#(shoves into my bag before i scramble out the door)

[austinbutlerslovers]

New Neighbor

Label 18+

Summary Your new neighbor is a hot fit biker. The strong silent type, and all you can think about is how to make him yours, because you love a challenge, and you always get what you want.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut ❤️‍🔥 Handsome new neighbor •Female in heat • promiscuous girl • teasing • Benny playing hard to get • trying to dominate Benny • manhandled by Benny • rough sex • size kink• girl on top • P in V • doggy style • rendered senseless • orgasms • after care

New Neighbor

The first time you catch a glimpse of your new neighbor moving in, you nearly drop the tray of muffins in your hands.

God, was he hot.

Standing at least 6’ ft broad-shouldered with muscled arms exposed under a sleeveless tee, he looked like he’d been carved straight out of some sinful fantasy.

His sandy brown hair was just long enough to curl at the ends, and that goatee? Pure rugged perfection. Add in piercing blue eyes and the Harley parked outside, and you were officially a goner.

He didn’t seem like the chatty type—strong, silent, mysterious even. And if there was one thing you liked, it was a challenge.

You watch him from your kitchen window longer than you intended before deciding theres no way in hell were you going to let the other nosy neighbors get to him first.

You threw together a welcome basket, just an excuse to knock on his door, and maybe—just maybe—see if those biceps felt as good as they looked.

Before heading out, you made sure to tug your top down showing just enough cleavage to grab his attention, then with your heart racing and confidence high, you knocked on his door, basket in hand.

A moment later, the door swung open, and there he was, leaning lazily against the frame, his eyes sweeping over you with keen interest.

Up close, he was even hotter —unfairly good-looking, with a slow, knowing smile that knocked every damn word right out of your mouth.

“Hey,” he drawled, his voice deep and smooth. “What’s this?”

You blinked up at him, your brain scrambling to function.

“I, uh… welcome basket.” You shoved it toward him wide eyed and breathless.“Just a —little something to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

His gaze sweeps over you, lingering just enough to send a heat rushing through your veins. “Nice of you,” he says, taking it from your hands. “Name’s Benny.”

Your lips curve into a flirtatious smile seeing he’s interested. “If you need anything, Benny, don’t hesitate to ask.” you add, your eyes shamelessly wandering over his biceps. “Any little thing you can think of.”

Benny’s brows lift, and that damn handsome smirk widens even more. “I can think of something right now,” he says stepping aside and ushering you in.

You don’t hesitate, walking inside as he shuts the door behind you.

The place is neat, though distinctly his- a leather jacket draped over a chair, a duffel bag half-unpacked in the corner, and tools spread across the kitchen counter. His riding gloves sit beside an open beer, and a stack of mail is tossed haphazardly on the table.

“Nice place,” you say, sliding onto a stool as he hands you a beer.

“Didn’t think I’d be entertaining this soon,” he smirks, leaning against the counter.

“Am I entertaining?” you tease, taking a sip.

“Oh, you’re somethin’,” he drawls, his gaze lingering on you as you cross your legs, playing up the way your skirt rides up just a little higher than whats modest.

The conversation flows easily, filled with teasing remarks and stolen glances. Benny watches you with a knowing smirk as you lay it on thick, your hand occasionally brushing his arm, your smile lingering as you look at him through your lashes.

At one point, he chuckles, shaking his head. “You don’t hold back, do you?”

You tilt your head innocently. “Why should I?”

He exhales a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Woman after my own heart.”

You look away grinning. “And something more.”you admit finishing your beer.

His smirk deepens and there’s something different in the way he looks at you, something careful despite the obvious heat between you.

He’s holding back for such a hard man, with all his strength and rugged intensity— and you can tell.

When you finally leave, you’re half-disappointed he didn’t bend you over the counter and render you senseless like you wanted.

But it was fine—you liked a slow burn, and by the way his eyes lingered on you as you walked away, you had no doubt he was thinking about you, just as much as you were thinking about him.

The sound of Benny’s Harley rumbling to life jolts you awake. You scramble to the window in the morning, watching as he straddles his Harley, his muscles flexing under his tee. He looks like a goddamn dream, and you bite your lip, watching him drive off.

Today was the day. You were gonna look cute, you were gonna see him again, and this time, he wasn’t gonna be able to resist you.

You throw on the tiniest pair of shorts you own, tie a tee at the waist, and step outside—only to realize the sky has darkened and the air is heavy with moisture.

A drizzle starts, and as you glance toward Benny’s porch, you spot his laundry still hanging on the line.

Then, like the universe is testing you, the sky opens up.

“Shit,” you mutter, dashing toward his laundry, snatching towels and jeans off the line as the rain soaks through your own clothing in the process.

You’re hauling an armful of damp clothes toward his door when the rumble of his engine startles you.

Benny pulls up just as you reach the porch, dismounting smoothly. He takes one look at you, drenched and clutching his laundry, and smirks.

“That’s cute,” he says, striding over to help.

“I wasn’t gonna let your stuff get ruined,” you insist stepping inside as he holds the door open for you.

He follows, shaking off the rain as you both drop the clothes onto the counter. The air between you shifts—humid and thick with something unsaid.

You glance at him, both of you soaked, his shirt clinging to the hard lines of his chest as he watches you, the water dripping down your form, your shirt practically see-through, your breaths coming in short, uneven pants.

“Persistent little thing, aren’t you?” He says his voice low and filled with quiet longing.

You meet his gaze, pulse hammering as every nerve in your body ignites with anticipation. “I always get what I want Benny,” you whisper, stepping closer, your hands sliding over his firm biceps.

A smirk plays at his lips as he takes you in, his blue eyes dark with desire. “You’ve got me,” he says, his voice low and rough and before you know it, his hands are on your waist gripping you close as his mouth crashes against yours.

The force of him steals your breath, his body hard and unyielding as he walks you backward toward the bedroom.

Clothes come off piece by piece, your hands trailing down his toned chest until you lay back on his bed. He unbuttons his jeans, holding them at the waist as you slip your panties down.

You watch, breathless, as he digs through a drawer, retrieving a condom and when he finally pushes his jeans down, your eyes widen as they slide down his hips, your breath hitching at the size of his cock.

He grins at your expression. “Better than you imagined?”

You swallow hard, heat rushing to your cheeks. “M-much more,” you stutter, barely able to form words.

His smirk deepens as he rolls the condom on slow and patient as his gaze locks on yours. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, sweetheart.”

He climbs over you, his abs flexing with each movement, every curve of his body defined and powerful. The length of his cock brushes against your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth against your skin as he positions himself above you, his biceps flexing as he holds himself up.

But you’re not about to let him take control that easy.

You push against his chest, surprising him as you force him onto his back. He lets you, his grin widening as he settles against the mattress, his hands immediately finding your waist, holding you firm.

“You gonna take me?” he grins his eyes dark with amusement and something more dangerous.

“Mmhmm” you say defiantly biting your lip as you climb onto him, straddling his hips.

Your hands trail down his chest, feeling the firm ridges of muscle beneath your fingertips as you slowly lower yourself down on him. His cock is thick, stretching you wide, forcing a deep moan from your lips as your body adjusts to the sheer size of him.

“C’mon, sweetheart, take me,” he taunts, his voice thick with heat. As you struggle his hands cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples as he thrusts up into you, making you gasp the stretch so deep it makes your eyes squeeze shut.

He keeps goading, bucking his hips, filling you deep and you moan taking each hard thrust until you regain your senses, practically bunny bouncing on him.

“Fuck thats it ,” he rasps, watching your body take him. “Look at you.”

You do—you watch him, watch the way his jaw clenches, the way he pants, the way his hands grip your hips firm as you begin to ride him harder. He meets you thrust for thrust, his groans of satisfaction driving you faster.

“Taking me good,” he grunts, his eyes locked on yours, his praise making your body burn hotter as the room fills with the sounds of skin meeting skin, your breathless moans and Benny’s deep, husky praises.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his hands, squeezing your hips claiming you harder. “Doing real damn good.”

You shudder your head tipping back as you orgasm rocking your hips against him in sweet bliss.

Suddenly, the room spins as Benny flips you onto your back in one fluid motion, his strength sending a thrill through your dazed body. Your hands fly up, and he grips your wrists in one hand, pinning you as he kneels between your thighs, positioning himself once more.

“You didn't take me all the way” he rasps. “Now I gotta finish what you started” he breathes, his cock pressing insistently at your entrance.

“Please Benny,” you practically moan and your eyes roll back as he pushes into you all over again, stretching you to the brink, satisfying you so deep you can hardly breathe.

He grips your wrists firm, his muscles flexing hard as he slams against you, each thrust making the bed creak as you wail, your cries filling the air loud enough to wake the neighbors.

The pressure of his cock, the intensity of him, it’s almost too much—but you don’t want him to stop.

You come in seconds, your hips pushing up as your orgasm rolls through you, the pleasure so high it steals every bit of breath from your lungs.

The second your body slacks, he pulls out, only to flip you onto your stomach, making you gasp as he drags the thick head of his cock through your slick heat before pushing back in with one deep claiming stroke.

The bed shakes as he takes you from the back, his hands pulling you into every hard unrelenting thrust as he fucks you incoherent against the mattress.

“Benny,” you moan, your face flushed, your cheek pressed to the sheets as the bed rocks beneath you. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he fucks you harder, faster, rendering you senseless, each snap of his hips, pushing you deeper into mind-numbing bliss.

“This what you wanted?” he demands his voice loud and rough.

You whimper, desperate, breathless, your fingers clutching at the sheets. “Yes—Benny—y-es,” you cry, barely able to form words as he pounds into you over and over, his pace unrelenting pushing you past every limit.

His rough fingers find your clit and your eyes roll back as he goes harder, deeper, until all you can do is moan, your body shuddering as he finally groans, burying himself deep, his release pulsing from his cock as you come together.

For a moment, all that fills the room is ragged breathing.

Then Benny laughs breathlessly pulling out, your body aching from the loss, “Damn sweetheart,” he exhales laying onto his back. “Hope you didn’t have any plans after this.” He says pulling you to his chest.

You grin, looking up at his handsome face, your body weak and spent. “I think you just made ‘em for me, Benny,” you confess, and as he looks at you his blue eyes darken. He pulls you in for a long lingering kiss, pouring all his feelings into it, already hooked on you—Because you like a challenge and you always get what you want.

END 🏍️

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[fisheito]

@androideql

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[nezuscribe]

life as a hit man was dirty but simple, and gojo preferred keeping it that way. he didn’t know his clients names, they didn’t know his. he’d send over proof of his work, they’d wire in the money. dirty, yet simple.

so when he gets a message to kill the daughter of some oil tycoon, he doesn’t think much about it. sure he thinks it’s cheap to go for the kid, but what does he know. this is the most he’s ever been offered for a one shot job, so he’s not an idiot to turn this offer down.

and unfortunately, that meant his next confirmed target was you.

he gets your information, where you go to school, what apartment building you live in, where you like to eat. usually he prefers a straight shot to the head, but sometimes sneaking in something to your food lets him off easier.

gojo gets to know your routine. what you do at what time. what shows you watch, what your favorite sweater is. he watches from the high rises that faces yours, crouching down so none of your bodyguards could see the reflection of the magnifier of his rifle.

and gojo is used to taking out a wide range of people. men, women, grandpas, aunts. it’s just business to him. but there’s something about you that makes him hesitate to pull the trigger.

maybe it’s the fact that the weeks he’s spent trailing after you he’s noticed you’re pretty much a loner. you keep to yourself, never bothering anyone. you don’t seem to have my friends in your classes, or even out of them. gojo never questions to morals of his clients or who they ask him to kill, but judging you so far you seem to have done…nothing wrong.

you treat the old lady who works in the convenience story with such kindness that gojo wonders if you were born into this level of wealth, because most people of your status treat those beneath them like ants. you always hold the door open for your body guards despite them insisting they do it for you. you always buy some food for the stray cats in the alley you pass, and you never yell when you’re on the phone with your dad, even though gojo tracks those calls and feels the need to yell for you.

it all comes to a moment when you’re at your favorite coffee shop (he knows this because you come here so often), and you’ve managed to weasel away from your bodyguards. he knows they must be freaking out by now, but you just want some alone time.

he’s right there, right behind you, the little pouch of his condition of drugs that instantly kill in his pocket ready, and you turn around with your coffee cup and bump into him.

your eyes seen, letting out a shocked gasp as the iced drink stains his shirt and pants, the cup not empty on the floor.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter out, scrambling to find some napkins, “i’m so so sorry! i didn’t even see you there - gosh,” you shove some napkins into his hands, trying to dapple the coffee away but it does nothing to help, “i can’t believe…!” you trail off, the two of you moving out of line so you don’t hold the others up and your shaking your head in dismay, mad at your clumsiness.

“it’s alright,” he assures you, waving it off as his eyes take in your appearance. “don’t even worry about it, accidents happen.” it’s the first time he’s seen you this close, and he feels that pouch growing heavier in his pocket.

because you’re pretty. really pretty. and he likes the plush of your cheeks, the scrunch of your brows, the way you’re nearly gnawing your lip raw. you seem even prettier in person, and there’s a lump forming in his chest, something he’s never felt before.

“no, no,” you murmur, trying to find the tide pen in your bag, only to realize you left it at home, “and it’s stained too, fuck. i am so sorry about this, you probably have somewhere to be and…” your words trail off as you scramble for your wallet, pulling out some cash as you push it into his hands.

it’s more than he needs to replace the shirt and pants, probably enough to buy him a couple pairs from ralph lauren, but you still seem to think it’s not enough as you look for more.

“it’s no worries at all, i keep an extra of shirts in my car for emergencies like this,” gojo lies smoothly and you look up from your purse, eyes wide in shame. fuck he really likes your eyes too.

“no, please take it, it’ll be on my mind all day if you don’t,” you insist, but he’s shaking his head defiantly, a reassuring smile on his face as he hands the money back to you.

“and it’ll be on my conscience all day if i take it,” he promises you, and after you realize he’s not going to retract his hands you take the cash, shoving it back into your wallet as heat settles all over your body.

of course with your luck you spill coffee all over the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

you still look worried, finding another napkin as you take out a pen from your purse, messily writing something down.

“this is my contact information if you ever need me to replace your clothes,” you hand it over to the man with an apologetic smile, “please don’t hesitate to call me, i know stains and that’s gonna be really hard to get out,” you go to say something else but your eyes dart to the large windows behaubd him, catching sight of your body guards who seem to have seen you, and your face falls.

“i’m really sorry, again, but i have to go,” you mutter as you speed off, waving goodbyes to the stranger as you duck your head down and leave the coffee shop, not wanting to cause another scene as three buff men race in to find you.

gojo stands there almost in a haze, looking at his stained white shirt to the napkin with your number and name on it.

almost as if he didn’t already know it, almost as if you weren’t the girl he’s supposed to kill.

and in that moment he realizes how screwed he is, because he’d rather down that packet right there than shoot you down, and he’s never felt this dread before.

[cherubcameron]

A/N: Personally if I was Sofia. I would have just left his ass. “Wherever the wind takes me.” Ahh forgot to add I was inspired by two fics on here for this. I forgot one but the other is inspired by @rafeandonlyrafe !! Just the beginning bit of it though!

“Woah, where’d do you think you’re going?” Rafe asks you, as you hastily put your clothes in a suitcase. You ignore him, focused on putting your stuff away. Grabbing a handful of hangers before tossing them into your bag. The clatter of the hangers falling off straps of clothing as you attempt to shove them in. Tears are pricking your eyes. “Hey, I’m talking to you” he says softly. Attempts too anyway.

“I’m going home.” You say, continuing on putting things away. Rafe eyes you, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“But- but you live here—

“This isn’t home.” You say, suddenly, you feel him grab you by the shoulders to face him. You don’t realize how fast you are breathing until he has stalled you.

“What’s going on?” He asks, his eyes trying to make your eyes meet his. “Hey, you can talk to me.”

Tears are falling down your face, your heart is breaking. And you don’t want to hear his voice. The one he used to tell his friends you were just a hook up and how he’ll never live with someone like you.

A pogue.

“I heard you telling Ruthie, that I wasn’t your girlfriend. That I was just someone you hooked up with. Nothing more. That you wouldn’t live with a pogue because you have standards.” You say, shoving him off of you and continuing on packing.

“Hey, hey, listen I—

You can hear him scrambling, the cogs in his brain trying to come up with something to say. To fix things. But for you, this was it.

“Don’t. Just don’t, Rafe.” You say, you don’t even look at him. Still staring at the suitcase.

You felt a harsh pull at your suitcase, it falls onto the floor. All your clothes spilling out.

“No! No! You’re not leaving! You’re not leaving me!” You look up at him in shock, tears are springing from his eyes. Matching your own.

“You said—

“I know what I said! Okay, I didn’t fucking mean it. I just wanted her off of my back.” Rafe said. You shake your head at him, annoyed that’s what he came up with as an excuse.

“Liar.” You say, attempting to reach for the bag again. But he kicks it further away from your grasp.

“No. You’re not doing this to me. To us.” He says, his head shaking. The tears spilling down his face. “I- I said some stupid shit. That shouldn’t mean you should leave. We should just talk about it, okay.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to go home.” You say, angrily.

“This is home! Okay! This is your home!” He points around the room. “Here! With me!”

You’ve never seen this side of him before, you’re taken aback by it. Almost scared. The words won’t come, you’re shocked how different his words now contrast what he told to Ruthie and Topper.

“I’m not going to let you shove this under the rug. You can’t say one thing and then switch up. Own up to your shit, Rafe.” Your hands are shaking, you just want to go. Hug your mom. But he’s not letting you.

“I’m suggesting we talk. Because in no way in hell am I letting you walk out that door.” Your heart clenches. You don’t know what to make of this Rafe. Unsure on where he came from. If he was always there. Lurking, waiting for the moment to come out. Instead of convincing you to stay, he’s making you want to run even more.

“No, I won’t let you make me look stupid.” You pick up the kicked luggage. You’re on your knees, taking the clothes in your hands. You don’t even realize it when you let out a sob.

“Please, don’t.” He pauses, swallowing thickly. “Don’t leave. I didn’t mean what I said. I promise you, you’re what I want. You’re who I want to be with. Please.” He’s on his knees now too.

“Enough Rafe. I’m leaving and I won’t let you stop me.”

A guttural sob comes out of his lips, you’re peering at him, with shock once more. He’s shaking his head, his hands trying to reach for you. But you slap them away. You won’t let him make you look like a fool. And you won’t stay with someone who can’t respect you enough to call this for what it was.

“I’m done. Over it.” You finish packing. “I’ll come back for my other stuff later” you start wheeling the luggage away. He’s on you like a predator trying to catch its prey.

“I said no! You’re not leaving!” He shoves himself in front of you, blocking you from the door. You glare up at him.

“Get out of my way!” You scream, he looks at you, his eyes red from crying. His lips pouted.

“I said no. This is just a stupid argument over some dumb shit I said. I didn’t mean it, okay.” He’s looking at you like a love sick puppy. You can’t help but feel your heart strings be pulled. But you shake your head.

“It’s not a dumb argument. I’m breaking up with you.”

You don’t know how you do it, you manage to shove him away so you can leave out the door. You hear him sobbing in the shared bedroom you have. The only other sound is the sound of the luggage wheels, wheeling you away from him. From your doomed relationship.

“Y/n!”

If you want reader to forgive rafe:

Part 2

[winwintea]

inyun

PAIRING ↬ next door neighbor!mark lee x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ fluff, romance, slight angst, potential soulmates, past lives au, friends to (?), shared dreams, the idea of inyun/inyeon or “fate”

SUMMARY ↬ when you move into a small apartment complex in seoul, your next-door neighbor, mark lee, seems like nothing more than an ordinary guy. but as the two of you get to know each other more, it suddenly feels like you’ve known him forever. then mark mentions his grandmother's belief in 인연. the idea that every encounter is woven by threads of fate. are these coincidences between you and mark really accidental or is there something deeper going on?

WORD COUNT ↬ 3.7k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ somebody (me) decided to rewatch past lives 🙈 this was supposed to be fluff and a gift for @https-lvesick but finals week started sinking in… thank you to my saviors @viasdreams and @polarisjisung for beta reading, love y'all <33

PLAYLIST ↬ jazz bar - dreamcatcher; mago - gfriend; you - nct dream; dejavu - nu’est w; wham bam shang-a-lang - silver

THERE IS A WORD IN KOREAN:

"인연"

it means providence or fate. 

but it's specifically about the relationships between people. 

it's an "인연" if two strangers even walk by each other in the street and their clothes accidentally brush. because it means there must have been something between them in their past lives.

Your apartment door was wide open, boxes half-unpacked and filling the hallway. You’d tried to keep things organized, but between the moving of your furniture and the delivery guy calling for directions, you slowly lost your organization.

You were crouched on the floor, handling a box of kitchenware, when you heard a muffled voice behind you.

“Uh, hi? Excuse me?”

Startled, you turned to see a guy standing at the end of the hallway, a paper bag balanced in one hand and a set of keys dangling from the other. He was dressed in a simple hoodie and sweatpants, glasses fixed upon his face, and his hair slightly tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Are… are you my new neighbor?” he asked in Korean, motioning toward the boxes that completely blocked his door.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” your voice squeaked as you responded in some broken korean, not mentally prepared to face a neighbor on the first day of moving him. You scrambled to move a tower of books out of his way. “I didn’t realize—let me just—”

“It’s fine, really,” he interrupted in English this time with a small laugh. “I’m Mark, by the way. Do you speak English?”

“Oh!” You paused mid-shove, shocked at his perfect accent. “Yes. Yes I do.” You were suddenly aware of how disheveled you looked. “Y/N,” you replied, brushing stray hair from your face. “Nice to meet you, and again, sorry for the mess. Your English is really good.”

“No worries. Happens to the best of us,” Mark said, crouching to help move the heavier boxes. “I’m from Canada, so English is kind of my thing.”

“Aah. I see.” You nodded, still mortified.

“This is your first day here?”

“Yeah. My friends were supposed to help, but they bailed at the last minute. So here I am, single-handedly creating a big explosive mess.”

Mark chuckled, lifting a box with ease. “I’d say you’re doing a pretty solid job for one person. Though... maybe try not to block your neighbors' doors next time.”

“Noted,” you said with an embarrassed laugh, standing to hold the door open as he slid the box inside.

When the hallway was clear, you expected him to leave, but he stayed, looking at the stacks of boxes still waiting to be unpacked. “Need an extra pair of hands?”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—”

“I insist,” Mark said with a grin. “I’m a pro at this. Moved like five times in the last three years.”

Before you could protest further, Mark rolled up his sleeves and got to work. He moved like he really had done this a hundred times, lifting heavy items with ease and made the process less awkward with his small jokes.

“This box says ‘Bathroom,’ but it’s definitely full of shoes,” he teased, pulling out a pair of sneakers.

“Okay, maybe I got a little lazy with the labels,” you admitted.

“Lazy? Nah, this is strategic. Keeps life exciting,” he quipped, tossing the sneakers back in.

You laughed, the tension from earlier fading away. Somehow, he’d turned what felt like a stressful task into something almost fun.

Once the last box was inside, Mark clapped his hands together. “Mission accomplished. And since I’m basically your hero now, I think I’ve earned a reward. Got any snacks?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, I have… instant ramen?”

Mark grinned. “Perfect. My favorite.”

After settling in for a few days, you don’t encounter Mark again. That is, until a series of random moments start pulling you back into his orbit.  

On one of those nights, just past 9 p.m., the apartment complex suddenly plunges into darkness. The familiar buzz of your refrigerator stops, and the streetlights outside shut off, leaving your apartment only dimly lit from the moon. 

Groaning, you fumble around for your phone, only to realize the battery is at 4%. Great. You grab a flashlight, slowly open your door, and step out into the hallway, hoping to find someone who knows what is going on. 

That’s when you spot him.

Mark is sitting on the floor just outside his door, a small stack of candles beside him.

“Hey,” he greets, a faint smile on his face as he waves a lighter. “Power’s out in the whole block, apparently. Wanna borrow a candle?”

You take in his setup and smirk. He’s surrounded by neatly arranged tea lights and thick pillar candles.“Uh, are you in a cult or something?”

“Eh, my grandma’s kinda superstitious. Always told me to keep candles around the house just in case,” he says, shrugging. “I thought she was overreacting, but turns out she’s kind of a genius.”

You sit down a few feet away, gratefully accepting a candle he lights for you. The flame brightens up the dark hallway, leaving warm shadows on Mark’s face.

“So,” you start, leaning against the wall, “What do you normally do during blackouts? Just... sit around and wait?”

“Basically. Or… get this,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “People actually talk to each other. Crazy, right? You could, I don’t know, tell me something about yourself. Like… how many candles do you keep at home?”

“None,” you admit holding up your flashlight. “This is all I’ve got. I guess I’m doomed in a blackout. Your grandma would be so disappointed in me.”

“She would,” he agrees with a laugh. “But I’ll let it slide. Only because you’re new here.”

The conversation flows easily after that. You both begin trading random facts: Your favorite childhood snacks, his love for playing guitar, the time you accidentally dyed your hair orange trying to bleach it yourself. He counters with a tale of a botched bleach job that left him looking like a walking science experiment for months. 

Minutes turn into an hour, the candles continuing to burn as the two of you share quiet laughter and stories. And for the first time that night, the darkness doesn’t feel so bad.

—

A few days later, you’re hauling overstuffed grocery bags up the stairs when Mark pokes his head out of his apartment. His hair is tousled, and he’s wearing an oversized hoodie that practically swallows him whole.

“Oh, hey!” he calls, his face lighting up when he spots you. “Need help?”

“I got it, thanks!” you manage to say, despite your arms straining and the bag handles digging into your fingers.  

Before you can argue, Mark is already down the hall, grabbing it from you, and effortlessly carrying it to your door. “Looks like this thing was holding on for dear life,” he teases, hoisting it easily as he follows you to your door.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I was gonna knock on your door anyway,” he interrupts with a grin. “I baked something earlier and thought you might want to try it.”

That makes you pause mid-door unlock. “You bake?”

“Why does everyone react like that?” he says with mock offense. “Yes, I bake. Don’t look so shocked.”

“You don’t look like the baking type. Or cooking.”

“Oh, I can’t cook.” He scowls as if thinking about a bad memory, “But baking is pretty easy. It’s just throwing everything into one bowl, mixing it up, and waiting. Piece of cake. Or, in this case, cookies.”

A few minutes later, you’re both sitting on your tiny kitchen floor, a plate of freshly baked cookies between you. The smell of warm chocolate and butter fills the air.

“These are amazing,” you say after taking a bite, your voice muffled by the cookie in your mouth.

Mark beams, leaning back against the counter. “Not bad, right? I got the recipe off some YouTube channel. Figured I’d test it out before offering it to my friends.”

You squint your eyes, pretending to look offended. “Wait, so I’m just the guinea pig?”

He admits, laughing. “Pretty much. But hey, honest opinion: too sweet? Not sweet enough?”

“Perfect,” you reply, reaching out for another. “But you should’ve added nuts. Makes it more sophisticated. Just make sure you aren’t allergic.”

He gasps, clutching his chest. “Sophisticated? Wow. Didn’t know I was baking for royalty.”

You chuckle, playfully tossing a crumpled napkin at him, and the conversation once again flows effortlessly from there. You laugh over Mark’s failed attempts at “fancy” macarons, and somehow turn into stories about childhood food disasters.

By the time the plate is empty and an hour has vanished. With Mark, even the simplest moments feel like they belong in a movie.

—

Then it’s yet another lazy Sunday when the doorbell rings. You open the door to find Mark holding a massive box labeled 50-pack instant ramen.

“I think this is yours,” he says, biting back a laugh.

You glance at the label and groan. “Oh my God. I ordered five. Five!”

“Well, congrats,” he says, handing you the box. “Looks like you’re set for the next year.”

You sigh, dragging the box inside. A few minutes later, there’s another knock. Mark’s returned to your door, grinning this time.

“You know,” he starts, leaning against the doorframe, “if you need help finishing all that ramen, I’m just next door. We could, like, host a ‘ramen buffet.’ Charge admission or something.”

You snort. “Sure. I’ll make you the first VIP guest. Free ramen for life.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve ever gotten,” he says, eyes sparkling. “But seriously, I’ll take a few packs off your hands if it’s too much. My midnight snack stash could use a refill.”

Later, you text him a picture of your pantry. 

YOU: Your VIP pass is ready 

MARK: I’ll bring the chopsticks! 😂

The first time the dream comes, it’s vivid enough to remember even after you wake up. In the dream you’re walking through a bustling marketplace, the air thick with the scents and noise of those around you. People push past you, but you don’t feel overwhelmed by them. Instead, there’s a strange pull, like a thread tugging at your body. You turn your head and catch a glimpse of someone—a young man with a warm smile, eyes glinting in the sunlight, and a soft laugh that echoes through the din. 

You can’t see his face clearly, but his hand brushes yours as he passes. And in that moment, it leaves a spark. A warmth that feels almost familiar.

When you wake up, the details are already fading, but the feeling of that touch, that spark, seems to linger, and you can’t seem to get it out of your head.

A few days later, you're sitting with Mark in the hallway outside your apartments, the floor scattered with takeout boxes and empty soda cans. The two of you have somehow fallen into the habit of these late-night talks, sharing parts of your day and random thoughts that cross your mind in the moment.

“Have you ever had weird dreams?” you ask, swirling the straw in your drink.

Mark leans back against the wall, his hair slightly messy from running his hand through it too many times. “Weird how?”

“Like…” You pause, trying to find the right words. “Like they’re not just dreams. More like memories. But not yours.”

Mark raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Okay, now you’ve got me curious. Spill.”

You chuckle, feeling a little silly but continuing anyway. “I’ve been dreaming about this place—a market or something. It’s super crowded, and I’m just walking around. But then…” Your voice trails off as the memory becomes clearer in your mind. “There’s this guy. I don’t know him, but when I see him, it’s like I do. And when our hands brush…”

Mark’s expression shifts, his playful smile fading into something more serious. He sits up straighter. “Wait. You said a market?”

“Yeah.”

“And… hands brushing?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

Your stomach flips. “Yeah. Why?”

He hesitates, running a hand through his hair again. “Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but… I’ve had the exact same dream.”

For a moment, the world feels like it’s spinning. You blink at him, looking for any hint that he’s maybe joking, but his face is earnest, his brows furrowed like he’s trying to solve a mystery.

“No way,” you say, laughing nervously. “You’re messing with me.”

“I’m not!” Mark protests, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I swear. There’s a market, right? And I’m just walking, but then I see someone—you, I guess? And when our hands touch, it’s like—”

“—like a spark,” you finish for him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mark stares at you, his eyes wide. “Exactly.”

The air between you grows silent, the laughter and casual banter from earlier replaced by something more ominous.

“Do you think it means something?” you ask after a long pause, your voice trying to stabilize itself.

Mark lets out a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “My grandma used to say that some people are connected through 인연—fate, you know? Like… maybe we knew each other before. In another life.”

You study his face, the soft curve of his jaw and the way his lips press together like he’s holding back more than he’s saying out loud. “Do you believe that?”

He turns to look at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t know. But if it’s true…” He pauses, his gaze dropping to his hands, which rest in his lap. “Maybe it’s why I feel like I’ve known you forever, even though we just met.”

Your breath catches, his words affecting something deep inside you. The dreams, the strange familiarity, the unexplainable pull towards him, the way you could spend hours with each other, you’ve felt since the day you moved in. It’s all beginning to make a strange kind of sense. 

You don’t say anything, but your hand brushes his as you reach for your drink, and in that moment, the spark from your dream seems to jolt back to life.

Mark glances down, his fingers twitching as if he’s tempted to close the gap. Instead, he looks at you.“Maybe we’re just imagining things,” he says softly, but the hope in his voice betrays his words.

“Maybe,” you reply, though you’re not sure you believe it either.

For the rest of the night, neither of you mention the dreams again. But when you go to bed, the image of two hands brushing in a crowded marketplace still lingers in your mind, clearer than ever.

It’s a Friday evening, and you’re sitting on Mark’s couch, a blanket thrown over both of your laps. The faint smell of popcorn fills the air as a half-watched movie plays on the screen. Mark’s head is tilted back, his eyes weary from the long day, his fingers idly drumming to a beat on the couch cushion between you.

You glance at him, noting how cozy it seems here. It’s moments like these that feel strange… and effortless. Like you’ve done this a thousand times before.

“Hey,” you say, nudging his arm lightly. “You’re zoning out. The movie isn't that bad.”

Mark snorts, turning his head toward you. “Oh, yeah? Name one character besides the main guy.”

“Uh... The dog?”

“Exactly.” He laughs, his eyes crinkling in that way that makes your stomach flip.

But before you can laugh along, his phone buzzes on the coffee table, breaking the moment. Mark’s smile fades as he leans forward to grab it. You watch his face shift—something serious.

“Who is it?” you ask, your voice careful.

“It’s... uh, an email. From SM,” he says, mentioning the entertainment company where he’s been interning. He hesitates, scrolling through the message. “They want me to come in for a meeting. Apparently, there’s a potential opening on one of their teams in Vancouver.”

You sit up straighter. “Vancouver? Like... Canada?”

He nods, his thumb still hovering over his phone screen. “Yeah. They’ve got this big international project coming up, and I guess they think I’d be a good fit.”

You’re silent for a moment, the weight of his words setting in. “That’s... amazing, Mark. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” His tone is quiet, almost hesitant, and it doesn’t match the words. He sets his phone back down and leans back again, trying to avoid your gaze.

“So,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant even as your chest tightens, “you’re thinking of going?”

Mark runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’ve noticed over the months. “I don’t know yet. It’s a huge opportunity, but... I’d have to leave. Like, soon.”

“Right,” you say, your voice a little too steady. “It makes sense. You’ve been working toward something like this for a long time.”

He finally looks at you, his dark eyes searching. “Yeah, but... leaving means leaving everything. Everyone.”

You know what he’s implying, but neither of you says it out loud.

—

It’s the day of Mark’s big decision. Whether to take the overseas job offer or stay in Seoul. You’ve been avoiding the topic, scared of what it might mean for you. But tonight, the two of you find yourselves on the rooftop of your apartment building. The breeze carries the faint scent of flowers that Mark planted the other day in the community garden.

You sit side by side on the edge, legs dangling over the low wall. Although dangerous, Mark always promised that he’d catch you if you fell. He also wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. He’s always thoughtful like that.

For a while, neither of you says anything, just watching the sun slowly start to descend down the bustling city. 

Finally, Mark breaks the silence. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about 인연.”

You turn to look at him. His face is painted in soft, golden light. “Yeah? What about it?”

He chuckles softly, almost nervously, running a hand through his hair. “At first, I thought it was just a cool idea. Like, ‘Oh, that’s neat. Fate and past lives and stuff.’ But… I don’t know. Every time I’m with you, it feels like there’s something bigger happening. Like I’ve known you forever, and I don’t even know why.”

Your breath catches. Hearing him say it out loud makes it feel so much more real than you imagined in your head. “I feel it too. Like… we’ve been here before. Not just on this rooftop, but in some other life, in some other time.”

Mark finally turns to you, his eyes searching yours. “But what if we’re just making this up? What if we’re using fate as an excuse to… I don’t know, hold onto something that isn’t real?”

The vulnerability in his voice shakes you. He’s scared, just like you are. Scared of the intensity of it all, scared of what it means to let go. Or to keep holding on.

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

“I don’t know if this is fate, Mark. I don’t know if some invisible thread tied us together, or if we’re just two people who got lucky enough to meet. But maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s not about why we found each other, but what we do with it now.”

Mark looks at you, his lips parting as if to speak, but he hesitates. You can tell he’s turning your words over in his mind, weighing them. “So… what do we do with it? What if I take the job? What if I leave? Does that mean we weren’t meant to be?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.” You reach for his hand, your fingers brushing before he laces them with yours. “You taking the job or staying doesn’t erase what we’ve shared. If this is fate, Mark, it’ll find a way to bring us back together. And if it’s not… then I’ll still be grateful for every moment we’ve had.”

“You make it sound so easy. Like letting go wouldn’t completely wreck me.” His grip tightens, and you see his throat bob as he swallows hard. 

You smile, but there’s a little sadness to your voice. “Who says letting go has to mean goodbye? Maybe it just means letting the story unfold the way it’s meant to.”

The silence that follows feels heavy but not uncomfortable. You can see the wheels turning in Mark’s mind. He’s thinking, unsure of what to say. 

Finally, he exhales a long, shaky breath. “I don’t know if I believe in fate, either. But I believe in you. And I believe in us.”

Your heart skips a beat, but he’s not done yet.

“So… if I stay, it won’t be because I’m afraid of losing whatever this is. It’ll be because I want to keep building it with you. And if I go… it’ll be because I know we’re strong enough to handle the distance.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you laugh softly, shaking your head. “You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?”

He grins, that familiar smile that’s become so dear to you.

“Not really. I’m just winging it.”

You both laugh, the warmth from your voices cutting through the bittersweetness of the moment. The future feels uncertain, but for the first time, that uncertainty doesn’t feel so scary.

As the last rays of sunlight fade, you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Whether it’s fate, luck, or sheer coincidence, you’re here now. And for now, that’s enough.

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part six of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it.

↬ nsfw; mdni; wc: 6.1k (oh god what did i do); tags: oral fem receiving, soft dom! theo, p in v, unprotected sex, theo is a munch, praise, slight virginity/innocence kink

( masterlist )

You sat cross-legged on the king sized bed in the room of requirement, fingers picking at the threads of the soft duvet beneath you. Anticipation curled in your insides as you fixed your eyes on the door. The room had answered your subconscious wish and provided a clock, an old grandfather clock, that ticked softly. Apart from your breathing, it was the only sound breaking the silence. Until the door handle clicked.

The door creaked open, and you looked up sharply, your breath catching as Theo slipped inside. His hair was damp from the rain still falling outside, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes, his sharp features softening as his eyes landed on you. He hesitated for a moment, as if gauging the mood, before closing the door behind him with a quiet thud. There was a sort of tension in the room, or maybe you were imagining it because your nerves ran high. When Theo crooked his head, you realized what he was waiting for.

“Oh, Harry apologized,” you reassured him and Theo nodded, approaching the bed slowly. On his way, he shed his cloak and bag and sat down on the bed, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. “How did your friends take it?” you asked and scooted back to make space for him. Theo's eyes followed your retreating figure and he raised his brows, moving after you. “Are you running from me, tesoro?”

“Are you avoiding my question, Theo?” you countered and scooted back even more to tease him. Theo chuckled darkly and surged forward, trapping you beneath him by seizing your wrists and pushing them gently into the cushion. You couldn't help the high-pitched gasp that left your throat. One of Theo's large hands was enough to bind both your wrists, leaving you utterly helpless under his hungry eyes. The other drew a teasing line down your side.

“Wouldn't dream of it.” Theo dipped down to peck your nose, your cheeks, down to your chin. However, his kisses didn't stay that innocent. When a little sigh left your lips, you felt a sudden, sharp sensation at your neck and gasped. Theo chuckled and caressed the spot he had bitten down on with his lips, worshipping it. The hand that had been running up and down your side planted itself firmly on your hip as his hips moved almost instinctively and you felt something stiff rubbing against your core.

You stiffened, and Theo noticed in an instance. His lips and hands retreated immediately and he pushed himself up to bring some space between the two of you. With furrowed brows, he looked down on your panting figure. “Are you alright? Did I-”

“No!” you said quickly and scrambled to sit like him. “I'm fine, I’m- I was just surprised.” When you noticed the worried look in his cerulean eyes, you tried to explain. “You haven't- It’s just- I’m just-” But the words wouldn't make it past your lips. Instead, Theo got a hold of your gesticulating hands and brought them to his lips. “There is nothing to explain, cara mia,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I went too far.”

“You didn't, I-” you blushed furiously and averted your face, but you couldn't miss his raised eyebrow. “I liked it,” you whispered, staring stubbornly at the blankets of the four poster. Even out of your peripheral vision, you could see the change in his demeanor at your words. His frame visibly relaxed, but at the same time, his fingers locked with yours that had subconsciously been picking on the blanket. When you looked up at him, his gaze was steady but not intimidating. The soft, teasing grin he’d worn earlier had given way to something quieter- more patient.

It was strange. Minutes before, you had been flush against his body and been devoured by his lips, and yet this felt almost more intimate. You were hyper-aware of how close he was, the way his fingertips traced aimless patterns along the back of your hand. It was gentle, intimate, yet every nerve in your body was alive with tension. Your teeth nibbled on your bottom lip as you looked for the fitting words. Theo seemed to sense that you were holding something back, because he waited patiently. “You should know something,” you said.

“I-” you began, only to falter. The words caught in your throat, leaving a lump of unease behind. Theo's brows furrowed slightly, not in annoyance but intrigue. He didn't press, he just waited. In the silence, you could make out the steady rhythm of his breathing and it grounded you somewhat. You weren't about to confess a crime. Though, and you couldn't deny it, you were worried that Theo would be disappointed. You glanced down on your lap, where your hands lay intertwined. Finally, you forced yourself to meet his eyes, heart pounding so hard it almost drowned out your voice. “I've never… I’ve never done anything like this before.” You swallowed and avoided his piercing gaze. “I'm, like, a virgin.”

Theo's eyes widened as he suddenly understood what all your blushing and nervousness around the topic of intimacy meant. Though he had assumed you were less experienced than he was, for one because you didn't have that kind of reputation and secondly because he had to admit that you’d have to work pretty hard to beat him, he didn't think you would be a virgin. That someone as gorgeous and smart as you had never gotten busy with anyone.

You seemed pretty embarrassed, either of the topic or the confession, and your fingers seemed to tighten around his subconsciously. When you sent him a nervous glance, he got his features back under control.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, dolcezza,” Theo said softly but your shame skyrocketed at once and you bundled up, hiding your burning face in your hands and letting out a long groan. You heard him chuckle and then felt his soft touch pry at your wrist. “Would you look at me, amore mio dolce?” Cheeks a bright pink, hair a mess and lips kiss-bitten, Theo couldn't think of a more endearing sight than when you let him remove your hands from your face and looked up at him. “We don't have to do anything, let's just cuddle some more and-”

���No!” you interrupted him fervently. “I mean… I do want to.” You seemed to grapple with something, and finally, you looked back up at him, your doe eyes glistening in the light of the many fires. “Is it bad?” Bad? Shamefully, Theo had to admit it only made his problem down there worse. At the same time, he started to question himself, and his lack of an immediate answer had you bite your lip nervously.

“It's not … bad,” he said in a great effort to keep his voice steady and composed. But he couldn't help his fingers twitch, burning to hold you, grab you, push you into the covers and make you his. Merlin he needed therapy.

“Then why are you acting so weird?” you said, noting his strained voice, averted eyes and twitching fingers, as ditched wanted to escape from yours. “Why does it make a difference wether I'm a virgin or not?”

That was a really good question, actually. Theo had deflowered plenty of girls in his lifetime and it had never made a difference to him how experienced they were. But when it was you, it did something to him. A dark, greedy part of him stirred at the thought of being you first, ruining you for all other men, teaching you, guiding you, making you his.

Theo groaned in frustration and let his head slump into the crook of your neck, throwing all pretense into the wind. Merlin, how it turned him on that- “You would give your virginity to me?” he asked into your neck and you nodded rapidly. “Yes!” “Are you sure?” You were taken aback by the graveness and severity in his tone, but it couldn't deter you. “Yes, Theo. I trust you.”

“Dio, dannazione,” Theo hissed and lifted his face from your neck to look at you with an intensity that knocked the air right out of your lungs. His fingers slipped out of yours and located themselves on your hip instead, in a tight grip, an attempt to ground himself and drown the monster in him out. “Cazzo, tesoro, it's not bad, quite the contrary, actually.” A humorless chuckle left his lips and you frowned up at him with innocent confusion. “What do you mean?”

When he leaned in, you found yourself pulled to him as if by magnetic force. His cerulean eyes were so dark, like black holes that held an overpowering pull on everything around them. And right now, it was you who was pulled into the abysmal depths. Your breath hitched when your lips were mere inches apart and Theo's voice sounded oh so softly, like a melody whispered into your ears. “I think … I think it's so hot that you want to give your first time to me.” You breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank Merlin, I thought you were going to run away or something.”

“You're ridiculous,” Theo mused but you shrugged, awaiting the touch of his lips readily. “You're the one with the virginity kink.” Biting your lip, you looked up at him with a daring smile and brought your voice to a sensual whisper that seemed completely laughable to you. “Theo, I’d let you take me any time you aske-”

Before you could finish your sentence, his lips clashed with yours in an uncontrolled fervor you had never seen from Theo. Theo’s kisses were slow and sensual, controlled and determined, and though they could also be passionate, he had never kissed you like this. Wild, senseless, barely more than a clash of teeth as he slipped his tongue into your mouth and straight up moaned. It was a kiss that set your whole body alight, electrified it, so that the simplest touch of his hands left you whimpering into his mouth.

Theo swallowed up all sounds as his tongue roamed around your mouth, as if he wanted to explore every inch of you, claim you whole. His usually so careful touches turned into barely restrained grips as his hands cupped your face. You didn't even realize you had given into his relentless push until your back met the mattress and he pulled away, leaving you gasping for air.

A storm was brewing in his eyes when Theo looked down on you in the sheets, but after a few deep breaths, he seemed to get himself back under control. “I don't have an innocence kink,” he insisted and you giggled, but he only smiled and played with a strand of your hair. “I don't. It's just… you. The thought of being your first.” And your last, if he had his way. But he didn't want to overwhelm you. With another long exhale, he kissed your temple softly. “You’re a fucking angel, you know that? I want to do this the right way, make it perfect…”

His lips found yours once more, but it was in a gentle caress. A kiss that felt like an answer to an unspoken question. His nose nuzzled against yours as his large hands glided down your body, mapping and lingering at your waist before one got a hold of your thigh. As his thumb brushed over the skin under your uniform skirt, he parted your legs gingerly and his hips slotted perfectly into the open space.

You felt so impossibly close to him he might just have consumed you whole. It was impossible not to feel safe in his capable hands that seemed to expertly draw all the right reactions out of you. Your bodies melded together as he let his hips rock experimentally and you mewled. Theo’s lips curled into a smirk you could feel against your own as he reveled in the effect he had on you. Smug bastard. In retaliation, you moved your hips against his and his breath hitched. “Cazzo, bella, mi farai dimenticare me stesso.”

His hands travelled further down to lock your hips in place. But instead of continuing to rub his hardened, clothed dick against your crotch, Theo departed from your mouth to trail kisses down your neck. With a swift motion, he moved you further back on the mattress, his hands held your thighs as he was on eye-level with your clothed core. Realizing his intentions, you propped yourself up on your ellbows to look at him. The way he looked at you through his dark lashes had the heat explode in your chest- and your cheeks. When you spoke, your voice came out in a broken stammer. “Y- you don't have to do that.”

“Sorry?” Theo said courteously as he trailed kisses down your thigh. You had to suppress a whimper and attempted to close your thighs out of instinct, but Theo kept them parted with ease. “No need to be embarrassed,” he smiled and you felt like the amount of fireplaces had just doubled.

“I-” you said tentatively as he was still worshiping your thigh, “I've heard many boys see it as a chore.” What you hadn't expected was for Theo to roll his eyes. “Then many boys are sciocchi,” he said as his fingers latched onto your skirt, gently prying at it. “But-” “I want to, cazzo, I want to. Do you know how long I've been yearning to taste your cute little cunt?” Theo interrupted you and brought a hand to your chin to make you unable to avert your hazy gaze. “So fucking long. Please, let me have a taste of you, Tesoro.”

It was almost impossible to meet his fiery gaze, but once you did, you found yourself nodding helplessly. “Good girl,” Theo praised and peeled down your skirt, placing it orderly on the nightstand. His calm manner made you feel as if he was teasing you, and you were about to scold him when you felt his index finger hook around your panties as he placed the softest of kisses on your pubic bone.

For some reason, this was what made your breath hitch and he hummed amusedly against your skin. One of his fingers came down to draw the lightest of circles on your clothed cunt and you squirmed uncontrollably under him. Theo's eyes glinted with amusement as he tutted. “So responsive…”

“S- stop teasing,” you stuttered and felt him shift between your legs. “Your wish is my command,” Theo murmured against your skin and, in one fluid motion, he had rid you of your panties. They joined your skirt as Theo dove down and you chocked on your own spit.

Expertly, Theo's lips closed around your clit and you stifled a sudden moan by slapping your hand over your mouth. You were startled when Theo's hand released your thigh and got a hold of your wrist. His eyes glinted dangerously up at you. “None of that, principessa. I want to hear you.” His index finger flicked against your clit and you mewled. Theo growled against your cunt as he dipped out his tongue into your wetness and started devouring you like his last meal.

You had never felt anything like this. Theo's mouth on your cunt felt so wild and uncontrolled, yet his lips or mouth nudged against your clit in constant, overwhelming stimulation. Your attempts to control your noises were rendered in vain as Theo touched you in all the right places and a loud, high-pitched moan of his name escaped your throat. His ministrations on your pussy came to a sudden halt as Theo stared up at you with an expression that had your insides squeeze in actual fear. “Do that again.”

As he returned to your cunt, you threw your head back into the covers. His tongue dipped into your warmth, messily making out with your pussy and practically worshipping your clit. Your thighs trembled, just as your voice when you let out another pathetic mewl of his name and you felt Theo moan into your cunt, the vibrations having you writhing and squirming.

With a loud groan, one of Theo’s arms shot up to hold down your waist to allow himself the perfect angle to devour you. Your juices covered the better half of his face but Theo couldn't bring himself to care. When he felt his hips rut against the mattress subconsciously, he forced himself to stop. This was about you, this would be all about you, his pleasure would come second to yours. But your cute little moans went straight to his clock as he reveled in the taste of you.

You were like ambrosia, Theo was convinced to be in heaven, and when you buried your trembling fingers in his locks in an adorable attempt to take control, he could not hold back the shudder that rippled through his body.

Theo found his iron discipline wavering when your back arched off the mattress and your desperate whimpers filled his ears. Merlin, you were heavenly, as you began to tremble and squirm in his tight hold. “Theo, I- I’m-” He knew what lay on your tongue and he knew you were too embarrassed to say it out loud, but he wanted to hear you say it so bad. “You’re what?” he murmured teasingly and you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “I’m close, oh god, I'm close!”

You found yourself squealing when you felt one of Theo’s fingers that had been rubbing circles on your clit travel down and prod at your entrance. A gasp left your lips when he slipped it inside, lubricated by your juices, and curled it upward. Your grip on his locks tightened, whether to stop him or spur him on, you did not know, and he chuckled against your warmth. “Be gentle with me, cara mia.” God, the way he spoke Italian into your cunt had you wetter than you would like to admit. But of course, he noticed, and you knew from the slight smirk he gave you that he had made a mental note.

Theo added another finger and you felt your high approaching with accelerating speed, and somehow, the pleasure got even more intense. You had touched yourself before, but the weak orgasms you could draw out here and there were in no comparison to anything you felt right now. You knew Theo was watching you closely, you could feel his heavy gaze on you, but you couldn't stop your pathetic little “ah”s of pleasure. And when he curled up his fingers to meet a spot you didn't even know you had and his lips closed around your clit once more, you broke.

Releasing a strangled moan, your body spasmed as you were hit by the strongest orgasm you had ever felt, bucking off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut and fell apart on his tongue. For a moment, you thought you could see the pearly gates of heaven as you grew impossibly light-headed. Wave and wave of pleasure washed over you, with the only thing grounding you being Theo. His mouth and fingers worked you through your high as you slowly returned to him.

Watching your heaving chest and teary eyes, Theo felt tempted to work you into overstimulation, giving in to the mean temptation to have you crying and and trashing in his arms, but he resisted the urge. Today was exclusively about your pleasure. Instead, he released your thighs and departed from your pussy with a last peck to your clit that had you jolt in his hold. Then, he returned to hover over you and revel in your fucked-out expression.

Theo dipped his head down to kiss you and you shuddered, tasting yourself on his lips. In fact, half his face was covered in your juices, and when he pulled away from the short but sweet kiss, you attempted to wipe some of it away with an apologetic expression. “Sorry,” you said sheepishly, feeling hesitant to meet his intense gaze. “I made a bit of a mess, didn't I?”

But one of Theo’s hands came up to seize your wrist and stop your feeble attempts. “Tesoro, why would you deny me my dessert?”

“D- dessert?” you stuttered, blushing furiously, and he laughed. Your weak slap against his abdomen seemed to go unnoticed, but your blushing did not. “cosi carina,” Theo murmured as he pecked both your burning cheeks. His eyes met yours and you shivered at the unmasked adoration in them. “How do you feel? Do you want to continue? We don't have to,” he assured you, but you shook your head with a little more fervor as necessary.

“I want to continue, that was … wow. It never…,” you avoided his eyes but he lifted your chin to make you look at him. “It never what?” “... never felt that good when I… you know…” Your embarrassment, even when he was literally covered in your juices, was so cute that Theo couldn't help the grin growing on his face. “Go on.” With a frustrated groan, you punched his chest. “When I … you know… touched myself,” you forced past your lips and he cooed at your shyness.

His head nestled into the crook of your neck and you heard him mutter close to your ear: “What did you think about when you touched yourself, tesoro?” Your heart pounded so hard in your chest you could barely get your words past it. “You. And me. A- and-” your voice broke off and faded into a soft mewl when you felt his fingers at your entrance once more, drawing tantalizing patterns around your clit.

“Go on,” he murmured again and your breath hitched. “Go on or I'll stop,” Theo threatened and you scrambled to keep talking. “Your hands, ah! I thought about your hands.” His dark chuckle made you shiver and he cooed. “You thought about my hands?” You nodded in shame, fisting his shirt and pulling him closer. “What else?”

You realized he was looking for a specific answer that you were very reluctant to give. The effect he had on you when he spoke in his mother tongue. But you just couldn't say it, so you copped out with “your voice.”

There was a mean flick against your clit and you gasped as Theo growled against your ear. Two of his fingers entered your cunt and stretched it out so deliciously you could feel it in your dry throat. “What else?” Stubbornly, you shook your head and he tutted. “Cos'altro c'è?”

“You’re mean,” you complained, but you could practically feel yourself growing wetter- and he could, too. “Dillo e basta,” he purred against the shell of your ear as his fingers curled and expertly hit the spot that had you seeing stars. “Just say it, tesoro.”

It was too much: his Italian, his fingers, the burning in your cheeks. The confession broke out of you. “It's hot when you speak Italian, okay?” you whined defiantly and Theo rewarded you with another curl upwards that had you shudder in his arms. “Good girl, I knew you could do it.” You didn't know what you hated more: how smug his voice was or how it had you dripping into the sheets. In an attempt to regain your dignity, you mustered all your strength and locked your thighs around his waist, flipping the two of you around.

With a raised brow, Theo watched your panting figure ontop of him. You straddled his waist and, in an attempt to take back some level of control, experimentally rocked your hips over his clothes erection. Theo’s breath hitched slightly and you gave him a triumphant grin, rolling your hips once again, and again, holding back moans. You gasped when he shifted under you and sat up, his hands latching onto your waist. Now it was him who rocked you back and forth on his lap, and you who buried your hands in his shirt and mewled at the pleasure.

“Nice try,” he chuckled into your ear. The satisfaction in his tone brought out your last remnants of defiance as you bit down on his neck so hard it made him hiss. “Cazzo, bella!” While he was distracted, your hand travelled down and you found the outline of his cock through his trousers. When your fingers closed around it, eliciting a deep grunt from Theo, you gasped. Though you had never seen another man in comparison, you were pretty sure Theo was massive, and you began to doubt wether he could even fit.

But before you could do anything else, Theo’s lips clashed onto yours and you were momentarily distracted by the mind-shattering kiss he gave you. His tongue slipped into your mouth easily as if he wanted to devour you whole, body and soul, and you were beginning to think he already had. Between kisses, he whispered unknown phrases in Italian. His lips in combination with his words made you increasingly desperate.

When he pulled away and you gasped for air, Theo gently removed your hands from his clothed erection and placed pecks on your frowning eyebrows. “Not tonight, cara mia, this is about you, and you only.”

“But-,” you protested weakly as he brought your hands to his neck and looped them around it. “I wanted to make you feel good, too.”

“Well, aren't you an angel,” he chuckled softly and kissed the corner of your lips. “The best way to make me feel good right now, tesoro, is to take off that blouse of yours.”

You scrambled to unbutton your school shirt, but it was a bit of a challenge with how hard your hands were trembling. All the while, Theo leaned back against the headboard and watched your attempts with the slightest hint of smugness shimmering within those cerulean eyes. He might as well have lit a cigarette, with how utterly appeased he appeared. A smug smile tugged at his lips as he watched your confused attempts to open your blouse. His nonchalance was maddeningly magnetic, with the casual grace of someone who held all the cards.

When you had finally managed to open your blouse, you were suddenly hit with a new wave of shyness. Your hands trembled slightly when you pried it open and discarded it onto the floor, watching Theo’s reaction closely. His eyes widened slightly and the smile fell from his lips. It was replaced by slightly parted lips that he wet with his tongue as his eyes took you in fully, traveling over your collarbone, clothed breasts and down to your soft belly.

Feeling self-conscious, you crossed your arms over your chest, but Theo sat up in one swift motion and pried them off, eyes locked to your lace bra. “No, no, no, niente di tutto questo,” he told you and you wondered whether he was even aware you had no idea what he had said. Oh, well, you’d gotten the general gist.

When Theo managed to lift his gaze from your boobs,they met yours with a softness you hadn't expected. “You’re so beautiful, Merlin, let me die to this sight.”

“You-,” you whispered, as if you were telling him a secret, “you’re not lying?” God, that lifted eyebrow, those damn eyes. His index finger brushed over your lip gently and you found yourself shuddering at the simple touch. Leaning closer, your cunt brushed over his thigh and you gasped. With a light smirk on his lips, Theo bucked it upwards and watched you suppress a moan and bury your hands in his shirt to stabilize yourself. Your vicinity enabled him to reach around your waist and flip the two around in one fluid motion.

“I'm not,” he said softly, looking down on your bare body splayed out for him in the sheets. Your pretty glistening eyes looking up at him so sweetly, he found himself enraptured by merely looking at you.

A pout tugged at your kiss-bitten lips. “How come I'm naked and you’re not?”

He smiled. “Fair enough.” With one hand, he tugged his shirt over his head, the other loosened his belt. With a shudder, he got lost in the feeling of your soft hands traveling up his torso and locking around his neck to pull him into a kiss. He gave in to your pull and dove down, shedding his trousers and slotting his hips between your soft thighs.

You almost forgot how to breathe in between kisses. Everything was so warm. His hands on your body, your skin against the fire from outside and within. His mouth, caressing yours. One of his hands travelled down your tummy and over the curve of your bare ass, grabbing a hand full of your thigh and lifting it to rock his clothed erection against your bare warmth. A strangled moan left your lips as you threw your head back and his lips latched onto your neck.

Your bodies rocked against and with each other, synchronizing into one fluid motion. Theo's somewhat strained baritone whispered sweet nothings in Italian into your ear. But it wasn't enough. Your hand ran down his back until it reached his boxers and you tugged at their hem, making Theo pant into your mouth. Spurred on by his reaction, you slipped your hand inside them and closed around his cock. For some reason, you shuddered against him and when he moaned against your skin, you took it as a sign to move your hand.

As if on instinct, his hips rocked into your hand and he groaned into your neck. “ragazza sfacciata. Little minx.” But before you could revel in having the upper hand for at least a short while, a much bigger hand closed around both your wrists and pressed them into the mattress over your hand. With a cheeky smile, Theo tutted at you. “Quite eager, aren't we?”

“Well, if you take so damn long,” you retorted and his eyes glinted dangerously before they softened once more. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked seriously, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty.

You nodded. “Positi-” You were cut off by a squeak when Theo discarded his boxers and rutted his cock against your folds. He was massive, and excitement, as well as anxiety curled in your stomach. “Still sure?” he asked cockily and you nodded. Even though you knew it wasn't a smart move, you gave him challenging look. “What, are you scared to f-” Three fingers plunged into your wet cunt and you gasped at the new stretch, eyes burning. “That's what you got to look forward to,” Theo murmured hotly against your neck. “That and more.”

Even though nervousness bloomed in your stomach, you managed to catch his eye and give him a nod of reassurance. “Please, Theo, please, I want it, I-” “Merlin, you’re tempting,” Theo gritted out and gave your cunt a gentle slap that squelched embarrassingly loud. “Bene, spread your legs for me, principessa.”

You did and felt a blush bloom on your cheeks when the tip of his cock kissed your sensitive clit. Theo's hands drew reassuring circles on your belly as he hoisted himself up and pressed his tip into your entrance. He was big, and seemed even bigger now that he was actually in you. The stretch was so unlike his fingers that you forgot to breathe for a second. You felt Theo's worried eyes on you and smiled at him through the sting you felt. “Tell me if anything hurts,” he muttered before he moved in the next inch.

Theo could barely hold himself together as his tip slipped further into your tight warmth. Biting down hard on his lip, so hard he might have actually started bleeding, he summoned all his restraint. The urge to plunge into you and split you open was strong, but even stronger was his concern for you as he saw you well up and breathe steadily through your mouth. “Tesoro?” You nodded at him to keep going and squeezed your eyes shut as he sank in another inch. Theo couldn't hold back the moan that left his throat and your whimpers didn't make the situation any better.

“Are you all the way in yet?” you asked, unable to imagine that you could take much more, but Theo shook his head. “That's just half of it, Bella. Want me to stop?” You shook your head vigorously. “No, keep going.”

Finally, with a lot of patience and self restraint, Theo managed to sink into your tight cunt all the way. With a pant, he sank down onto his free elbow, hovering inches above you. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but you breathed steadily and let out the occasional whimper.

“Are you okay?” you heard Theo mutter and you opened your eyes to see cerulean blue. You took a deep breath and nodded. “‘M fine. Just-” you squirmed and Theo gasped, holding your hips down. “So full…”

Theo chuckled at your ramblings and pulled out before slowly moving back in. His steady movements slowly turned from stinging to pleasurable and small “ah”s escaped you as he established a steady rhythm. His breath was hot against your ear. “Fucking hell, bella.”

An embarrassingly loud moan escaped you when Theo hit that spot and you squirmed against his hand that still held your wrists in place. “T-theo!” Suddenly, you felt his hand slip under your back and unhook your bra, discarding it to somewhere unseen. His lips came down to wrap around your nipple and you arched your back off the mattress as his teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin, travelling up your tit before biting down gently and sucking, surely forming a bruise. Meanwhile, his cock still hit the spot that had you falling apart, chanting his name breathlessly.

The sensations were so overwhelming that tears slipped out of the corners of your eyes. You hiccuped, and Theo chuckled against the tender skin of your boobs. A coil tightened in your lower belly, if possible even more intense than the previous ones, and you squirmed pathetically against Theo’s hold. Finally, he released your wrists and they flew to his hair to bury themselves in it. As you felt your climax approaching, you whimpered something incoherent, but he understood.

His now free hand dove down to draw hurried circles around your clit and you jolted as the added pleasure brought you to the edges of consciousness. A scream of his name left your throat as you crashed into your high with full force, your back arched off the bed. His skillful fingers and gentle rhythm worked you through your high when his movements suddenly stuttered and the rhythm grew uneven. As you came down from your high, Theo rutted his cock into you heavily, three times before he pulled out and came onto the sheets.

Panting hard, Theo collapsed on the bed next to you and pulled your trembling figure into his arms. You buried your face in his chest as he caressed your body with soft touches, drawing patterns on the small of your back. When you looked up from his chest, your eyes met his and in your shared look, you tried to convey all your love, all your adoration and affection. You reached for his hand and locked his fingers, and Theo pressed a gentle kiss onto your temple.

"My friends were surprisingly supportive," Theo spoke into the silence and your eyes widened. Foreseeing your skepticism, Theo chuckled. "It might have been because I told them with a drawn wand. But I think Enzo's got a crush on you."

"You're crazy," you said, rolling your eyes. "I can't have two gorgeous men liking me." Even though you couldn't see it, you heard the frown in his voice. "You think Enzo is gorgeous?" You snorted. "I mean... objectively? But don't worry. I like them broody and Italian and stinking of cigarettes." A satisfied hum left Theo's lips as he pecked your temple.

“Ti amo, tesoro,” he whispered softly as he returned your smile. You leaned your head against his bicep and drowned in his cerulean eyes. “Anch'io ti amo, Theo.”

a/n: thank you so much for 300 followers and have a happy new year's eve! see you all in 2025!

[pupkashi]

a/n: inspired by this tweet because all i could think about is gojo since he’s a Real Lover it’s so silly maybe ooc idk idc i hope u guys enjoy :3

masterlist

the sound of jingling keys jolts you awake, eyesight blurry as you check your phone. the bright lock screen of satoru holding a bouquet of flowers blinds you slightly.

2:38 am

your senses slowly come to you as you wake up more and more, the sound of what could be an intruder shuffling around in your living room has your heart pounding against your ribs. satoru wasn’t supposed to be home for a couple more days, and no one else has keys to your home. your palms are getting sweatier by the second, satoru voice instructing you on what to do rang in your ears (he was very aware that you were his weakness).

as quietly as you could you scrambled out from under your blanket, grabbing the knife satoru had hidden for you in the closet. you could see the hallway light flicker on as the warm light seeped through the cracks of the door. your grip tightens on the knife, positioning yourself behind the door as you hear them start twisting the handle.

there’s not a second of hesitation as the door opens slowly and you plunge the knife into the intruder’s abdomen, letting out a small squeak when you’re met with familiar blue eyes.

“toru?” you yell, hand still on the handle of the knife, plunged into his side.

“hello sweetheart” he coughs out, a charmed smile on his face as his eyes meet your petrified ones, “could’ve just said you didn’t want me home” he pouts softly, unphased by the knife still in his body.

your mouth opens and closes, frozen in position and satoru can’t help but feel a little bad for scaring you. he doesn’t mind the stinging in his side, thrusting the blade a bit deeper just to place a kiss to your forehead.

“satoru the knife!” you gasp, pulling it out and causing satoru to wheeze a little, stumbling as he puts his hand over his wound, healing it over in a matter of moments.

“that’s one way to be welcomed home early by your lover” he smiles, finally setting his bag down and engulfing you in his much larger frame.

“I’m so sorry i can’t believe i fucking stabbed you” you cry out, face hot as you hold your lover closer, “you couldn’t have sent a text or something?” you mumble against his chest, squeezing him tightly and placing a gentle kiss against his jaw. satoru pouts down at you, huffing softly.

“wouldn’t have been a surprise then,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, holding him closer, “i missed you so much, dunno who i thought i was saying id be gone for so long” he shakes his head, finally unwrapping his arms from you.

there’s a beat of silence as he’s staring down at you, a cheeky smile on his face before he turns to turn the restroom light on.

“what?” you ask, already under your blanket as you watch him shake his head, his lips fighting back a smile.

“nothing, nothing” he grins, a soft chuckle escaping his lips before clearing his throat.

“you can’t give me that look and then say nothing! you have to tell me now” you demand, satoru just about melts at the small huff you let out, enamored by the way you practically teleported to his side to pry information from him.

“it’s just you had a really weak stab” he giggles, “like, pathetically weak” satoru can’t help but burst into laughter at your look of offense when the words land on your ears.

“well excuse me i don’t go around practicing my stabbing skills!” you scoff, shoving him softly and crossing your arms across your chest, “in my defense i had just woken up” you grumble, turning your back to him and heading back to bed.

satoru takes a moment, admiring you before pushing off the counter and pulling you into him by your waist, “maybe it wasn’t weak, I’m just too strong hm?” there’s a cocky smirk on his face that you hate to love, making your breath hitch in your throat as you agree with his statement.

“now go shower you stink” satoru grins, placing a messy kiss to your lips before speaking up.

“you gonna stab me again if i don’t?”

taglist: @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

[shotmrmiller]

Situationship into Relationship.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x AFAB! Reader

TW: disgustingly explicit, p in v, pregnancy talk. Strap in, its a doozy.

Since the first time Simon physically ruined you for other men forever, the both of you spent half of his leave in the bedroom, and the other being the best friends you were. Eventually, you noticed Simon practically moved in with you. Toothbrush next to yours in the bathroom, black balaclavas inside your knickers because Simon is a closet pervert, and thinking back on how he's treated you in the past before this situationship— unsurprising.

Then things went from situationship to a relationship. Simon, in a manner that's all him, didn't even ask. Simon and you had been resting on your couch, book in your lap and feet tucked under his thick thighs, when his cell started ringing. Simon picks up the television remote with one hand to pause the movie and answers his phone with the other.

"Soap."

You glance up from your book to look at him.

"No." a pause.

"No, I don't care that you flew out here to visit," followed by a suck of his teeth and then a deep resigned sigh.

"I'm with my girl. No, you cannot ask what her name is. Now piss off.", and as if nothing happened, Simon just unmutes the television and wraps your foot with his hand. With a secret bashful smile, you look back down at your book.

Now that leads you to now. Simon has to leave to a mission for a possibly yearlong mission— and you knew what you were signing yourself up for— doesn't mean it didn't hurt every time he left.

Raising to your toes you pull him to you in a hug. You feel his arms wrap around your waist tightly and he shoves his unmasked face into your neck.

"I'll miss you," you whisper with a sniffle. He kisses your neck in a comforting manner before he says,

"I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart. You just make sure you're eating well."

He pulls away reluctantly and puts on his balaclava, then looks down at you. A mischievous glint in your eyes has him squinting his eyes at you.

"Maybe the next time, you can leave me with some company."

His eyebrows furrow as he says, "I didn't know you wanted a pet. I could look into—"

"A baby, Simon."

His blue eyes widen, and you can see the outline of his gaping mouth behind his mask. Giggling, you step forward, pressing your side to his and putting your hand on his chest as you— almost painfully— tilt your head up to look at him . He shakes from his stupor and makes eye contact, tossing an arm around you.

"Simon. Did you hear about the accident back at base?"

"No. What happened?"

"If you want the answer, come back home to me."

Nodding he says, "My heart will hold you when my arms cannot."

Your lip trembles in a pout and your eyes mist. Slapping his chest, you say in a shaky tone, "You bastard," and in a much smaller, vulnerable voice, "I love you too."

Simon nods before pressing a kiss to your hairline. He then turns, grabs his bags and leaves.

---

It's been 8 months since Simon left.

8 long months since you hugged him last. You got scarce calls from him, letting you know he was alright before having to cut it short, and for that you were grateful. But you still missed him. Hopefully today you'd get another call from him, you thought as you went to bed.

As you're burrowing in the comforter, you hear the door unlock. Ripping yourself from the bed, you scramble to the living room.

With a breathy tone, you say his name.

Si is back home. Your Simon's back.

He locks the door, drops his bags, and opens his arms wide. Your reaction is immediate and visceral. Launching yourself into his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck— ripping his mask off, putting both hands on his cheeks and smothering him in kisses.

"If this is the welcome I get for being away for so long, maybe I should do it more often," he jokes.

"Don't you fucking dare. I was miserable without you."

Holding you up with his arms, he pulls his face away from you and asks, "Well? What accident happened at base?"

"Oh. A Humvee ran over a box of popcorn and killed 2 kernels."

He huffs from his nose.

"Good one, love."

Simon finally takes notice of what you're wearing — one of his black shirts and pink knickers underneath.

"I haven't forgotten about your little comment you blindsided me with. You want me to make you a mum? Beg me for it, pretty."

"Oh please, Si. We'd make such pretty little tots. It'd be half of me and half of you— I'd always have a part of you with me, even if you were across the world. I'm also ovulating this week and I'm," you dig your fingernails into his traps, "so irrationally aroused it's not even—"

He cuts you off with his mouth as he kicks off his boots, leaving them scattered by the front door and he's jogging to the bedroom. Throwing you on the bed, he grabs your hips, fingers curling into the waistband of your knickers, and pulls you to the edge of the bed— haphazardly pulling them off and tossing them over his shoulder as he kneels.

Your pussy is already slippery from arousal and the extra hormones in your body, and your face flushes. How embarrassing. Simon notices your expression because he says, "What a pretty little quim my girl's got. All this for me?" he leans in and inhales deeply, "You smell so sweet, love. I have to get a taste."

His long tongue immediately starts drawing languid small circles on your clit, and you're letting your head hang back with a moan before he stops and slaps your thighs with both hands— causing you to raise your head and look.

"You keep those eyes on me and watch what I'm doing to you, pretty."

With a fierce blush, you acquiesce, and he goes back in— eating pussy like it's his job— and you're approaching the end of the cliff at an alarming rate. He squeezes his fingers into the meat, forcing you to keep eye contact— your eyes staring into steel blue as his tongue flicks your swollen clit repeatedly before he lowers, stiffening his tongue and sticking it into your hole— and rubs his nose over your nub. Your thighs start to shake, digging the heels of your feet into his shoulders—and the intensity of his gaze holding your own sends you over the edge.

Toes curling and your feet hooking across the back of his head to pull his face further into your pulsating pussy to ride out your nerve-scraping orgasm. Getting down from your high, limbs loose and like molasses, you rub the only two brain cells you've got at this moment and wonder if you drowned him.

You glance down between your legs and Simon is there with an irritatingly smug grin as his nose shines with your come and drips from his chin.

"Be good for me now, pet. I ain't fuckin' you until you give me one more."

Before you even get to protest, he pacifies you with a, "I know you're painfully sensitive. I promise I'll be gentle."

And he does. He spits on your pussy, and you whimper at the contact before he oh-so softly starts tapping your clit directly with the bottom part of the tip of his tongue in a sharp, but feather-light, staccato rhythm while using the pad of his thumb to rub small delicate circles where your lips split open and you're coming in seconds.

You're drained. Empty of all thought and energy, your vision is hazy when you feel Simon take your foot that was pressing into his shoulder by the ankle and puts it into his mouth — tongue swirling around your toes— and lets out a filthy moan. The sensation of his tongue in between them sends a shiver from the bottom of your spine up to your scalp, body hair standing on end.

Dropping your foot, he gets up with a grunt, yanks off his shirt and undoes his trousers to free himself.

"How do you want me?"

He chuckles darkly and says, "Don't worry your pretty little head, pet. I'll take care of everything— you just lie there and let me take what's mine."

Maneuvering you on your back in the middle of the bed, he brings your legs together before shifting them to your right side, his left, knees bent at a 90° angle—and your upper body is still facing him—when he pushes your legs with one massive hand into the mattress and uses the other to hold himself up, palm digging into the bed by your head.

Simon pushes in, long hefty cock stretching you open in one solid stroke. There's a sting as he forces you open on him, and he's bottoming out with an obscene squelch bit but it's these first few minutes that are you love the most. The first firm strokes that feel so intense, you're pushed to your limits. The lack of time to adjust to him lights your nerve endings on fire, you love it.

In this position, he covers your body completely, like a shield. He's all you see. All you need to see.

Every time his balls are pressed up against your pussy, you feel a burn, deep inside as the tip of his cock presses firmly against your cervix and it forces a groan out of you with every thrust.

Now he's grabbing your arm—hand engulfing your elbow—as he lies down on his back, pulling you to straddle him. He takes his cock in his hand so you can lower yourself on it and you wince at how sensitive you feel, and his tip is barely in.

Simon takes notice, of course, he's always attentive to you and your needs— and he coos at you.

"Deep breath, sweetheart. You're doing perfect," he grunts as half of him disappears into you, " The only one that can take all of me so well." And like a stone dropping into a pond, surface tension giving into the weight, you drop and take the rest of him in your body.

It's too much, you think, but can't help and grind down on him. The pinch in your lower belly is too much but you twist that pain into pleasure— otherwise, Simon will notice and stop. You really don't want him to stop.

Peering up at you through his lashes, Simon takes pleasure in your expression. Lightly tapping your cheek with the pads of his fingers strong enough to jolt your head to the side a bit, but never to hurt you, and says, "Look at that cock-drunk look on your face. Fuckin' hell, I could stare at you all day."

Simon is so large, your knees barely skim the comforter— can't even bounce on his cock properly— that he just takes over. He tells you to flatten your feet on the bed, like you're sitting on your haunches and puts a palm on your chest to lean you back at an intense angle— pulling a loud mewl from your throat.

He raises his legs, knees bending and planting his own feet flat on the bed and shoves his forearms underneath your thighs to grip your ass and lifts you as if you weighed nothing. He lifts you, at the same time lowering his hips to bed, to leave just the tip at your entrance before he yanks you down— his own hips slamming straight up to meet you halfway to fuck you.

He's feeling you squeeze his cock in a tight vice, your moans getting high and whiny— all of your tell tales signs that you're close.

"This," he says with a particularly hard thrust, "is my favorite part." and focuses on making you come on his cock. The sheer strength behind his thrusts sends you careening straight into a blinding orgasm.

You're keening so loud you know the neighbors are going to put in a noise complaint, but you couldn't care less. You've probably had one of the most intense orgasms in a long time, and Simon just fucked you through it without a single stutter in his pace— the only sign you see that he was straining was the sweat dripping down his temple towards his jaw and the rapid intake of breaths coming out of his mouth.

He looks down at where you two are connected and you leaked cream on his happy trail, making it stick together, and he groans at the sight.

Now that you'd come, it was his turn to get his pleasure. And he was gonna take it. He's tossing you up and down like his own personal pocket pussy, and you swear you can feel him trying to open the plug of your womb with the flared head of his cock. His grunts are deep and get louder the closer he gets. It takes him 8 more brutal strokes and he's choking out, "Fuck, I'm gonna come. Fuck, fuck, fuck," and he bites his bottom lip and lets out a whimpered, pathetic wail— something you've never heard before—as he stiffens and grinds into you. You think you can feel his coming moving from the base of his length to the tip where it spurts into you in such a large quantity, it's spilling from in you and dripping down onto him.

Your hands are on his chest, putting all of your weight onto them, as your legs lower back down. Simon, underneath you, removes his arms from under you and straightens them out to where your legs are— grabbing onto your calves.

As he comes down from his high, his gaze clears and intensifies on yours— causing you to blush under the scrutiny of it— and with emphasis says, "I love you. Marry me."

You give a deep sigh. You should've known Simon would be as unorthodox as possible. It's almost like he only lets intrusive thoughts out when around you. Giving your walls a clench, making him hiss, you tell him, "Fine. But you're going to the Mexican restaurant down the street. I've worked up an appetite and they don't do delivery."

Chuckling quietly, he slaps both of your thighs saying, "A'right, love. Let me get dressed."

He gets changed at an alarming pace before leaving. You lie back on the bed, head on the pillow, and close your eyes for a minute before the door opens again. Simon comes back in and heads straight for the bathroom in long strides. After a second, he turns to head back out and you catch a glimpse of something— another obnoxious scrunchy, this time in a lime green, on his wrist. Again. You don't even wear those anymore because you cut your hair off into an asymmetrical pixie. Snorting, you figure that's as close to a wedding band that he's ever gonna wear.

A/N: ill be in the VIP section in hell, popping bottles.

@thychuvaluswife @corvusmorte

[crushpunky]

rafe and kook!reader get into a fight

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

warning: minor injury w/ mention of blood

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Y/n shouted as Rafe rolled his eyes, flopping back onto y/n’s bed, an unlit joint dangling between his lips as y/n closed the door behind her.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna smoke it in here.” Rafe scoffed, tucking the joint behind his ear as y/n shot daggers at him.

“You’re lucky I even let you in here after that shit you pulled.” Y/n said sharply, turning to her vanity that sat in front of the bed. They had just gotten back from a party, their departure rushed after Rafe had gotten into a fight with some guy over a stupid comment the guy had said. Topper and Kelce had tried to intervene, but once Rafe’s mind was set, it was set. The fight had finally ended when y/n ran in, grabbing at Rafe’s arms until he decided he had had enough and climbed off the guy.

“‘That shit I pulled’?” Rafe asked with a smirk, propping himself up to rest on his elbow. Y/n turned around in her chair, her mouth agape.

“Rafe… I’m not messing around. I’m this close.” Y/n seethed, pinching her fingers with a harsh exhale.

“Oh c’mon. That random asshole’s fine.” Rafe scoffed, shaking his head as he shuffled over to sit next to y/n’s nightstand. He dug into his pocket, procuring a small bag of coke. Y/n glanced up at the mirror at the sound of the bag crinkling before whipping around out of her chair. With a step, she had crossed the room and ripped the bag from his hands.

“Hey, what the hell—” Rafe grabbed at her, missing as she pulled further away from him. 

“Absolutely fucking not.” Y/n seethed, moving towards her bathroom, but Rafe was able to catch her by the waist. He pulled her into his chest, trying to pry the baggie from her grip.

“Just fucking give it to me, y/n.” Rafe hissed, the two of them grappling as y/n tucked the baggie even closer to her body and fought against Rafe’s grasp. Rafe’s fingers scratched at her hands, causing y/n to elbow him sharply in the ribs, his grasp on her loosening enough for her to get loose.

“Y/n, don’t you fucking—” Rafe shouted, following closely behind y/n as she made it into the bathroom. Without a second of hesitation, y/n tossed the baggie towards the toilet, but missed, causing it to fall onto the ground. She quickly scrambled to pick it up, before she could, Rafe caught her by the wrist.

“Let go of me!” Y/n seethed, attempting to wrangle free from Rafe’s grasp.

“That’s my shit, y/n! You can’t just fucking do that!” Rafe shouted, his voice laced with a rage that made y/n’s stomach churn. Y/n pulled against him harshly, his drunken body crashing into hers, sending the two of them into the wall. With a gasp, y/n’s head hit with a loud thud and Rafe’s hold on her dropped.

“Ow, shit!” Y/n groaned, slinking down the wall. She lifted a hand to where her head throbbed, her fingers coming back covered in blood. Immediately, her eyes began to well with tears as she sat up.

“Y/n I’m sorry I—” Rafe scrambled, his shaking hands reaching out towards her, his face sobering up with fear.

“No!” Y/n sobbed, recoiling as his fingers brushed her skin. 

Rafe’s face fell, looking quickly over at the baggie that sat on the ground near where y/n sat crying… because of him. Because of him and his stupid, stupid addiction and anger and violence and—

“Get out, Rafe! Just take your shit and leave! I don’t fucking care anymore!” Y/n screamed, grabbing the baggie and shoving it into his hands. He took it numbly, his mouth agape as y/n sat in front of him, the blood from her forehead mixing with the tears that poured down her cheeks. Rafe felt his mouth dry, his brain begging him to open the baggie and escape from reality for a moment, but his heart clenching at y/n’s trembling form. She had become the one thing he never wanted her to be: scared of him.

“Y/n, please—” Rafe whispered, swallowing harshly.

“Stop, Rafe!” Y/n sobbed. “You– you’re just going to say you’re sorry and then you’re not gonna change and I… I can’t fucking do it anymore, Rafe.”

Rafe sat there for a second, the silence between them only dampened by y/n’s occasional sniffles. She was right. Time after time, he would fuck up, apologize, and then go right back to it, the cycle continuing the next time he did something stupid. Y/n was strong, god he knew that, but he also knew that it was killing her seeing him like this. The boy she had known all her life, fading away into an angry, violent man she couldn’t even recognize.

Without even realizing it, Rafe had begun to cry. Slow tears fell down his cheeks as he looked down at the bag of white powder in his hand; the very thing that had caused all this pain and hurt in his own life, hurting those around him even more. With a trembling hand, Rafe dropped the baggie into the toilet, flushing it away before slinking back to rest against the wall. His shoulder brushed against y/n’s lightly, causing her to flinch before relaxing against him.

“I’m… I’m gonna get help, y/n.” Rafe whispered, his gaze locked on y/n. Y/n’s eyes remained focused on the ground in front of her, her sobs subsided enough to stop the shaking in her shoulders. Rafe could feel his stomach churn, fearing that this time he had really fucked up and she couldn’t forgive him. Fearing he had gone too far. He had hurt her. He had lost her… and he couldn’t fucking lose her.

“First thing in the morning, we’re gonna call that place I told you about.” Y/n whispered, looking up at him, her eyes stern. Rafe nodded, his bottom lip trembling as he looked down at his best friend.

“I’m serious, Rafe. I… I can’t do this anymore. I won’t.” Y/n said. With a sigh, she rested her head on Rafe’s shoulders. Rafe let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding, resting his head on top of y/n’s.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I love you.” Rafe whispered.

“I love you too.” Y/n said.

[joszns]

caught red handed ✭

perv!ellie x fem!reader

warnings: ellie’s a lil perv, panty sniffing, mild degradation, masturbation, fingering, 18+, men and minors DNI. I think that’s all!

“oh fuck, fuck, right there!” you whimpered, ellie’s strap pounding into you. she grunted, a bead of sweat dropping onto your arched back.

she grabbed your hips as a way to steady herself, obsessed with the way your ass bounced with every deep thrust.

“im gonna cum, ellie, m-gonna!!” incoherent babbles and sobs left your throat as you neared your peak.

“ellie…ellie…ellie…ELLIE!”

she groaned, rolling onto her side.

you leaned against her doorframe, sweatpants resting low on your hips, crop top cut high. how she wished she could actually touch you underneath those clothes, but all she could do was just be a fucking peeping tom.

“what do you want?” ellie replied lazily, clenching her thighs together. she felt her arousal, silently cursing you for interrupting her dream.

and for just waking her up in general. she values sleep very much.

“im about to go grocery shopping. do you want me to get you anything??” you asked.

“just like…some popcorn…can I text you this later?” ellie asked, rolling back over and snuggling into the covers. she heard you sigh, peeking out from behind them to make sure you had gone. when she heard the door slam, she was safe.

she quickly got up and went into your room, sifting through your laundry until she found a pair of panties. ellie held the slightly damp fabric to her nose, whimpering at the scent of you. she felt more heat pool between her legs, her clit throbbing against her boxers.

ellie returned to her room, shutting the door behind her and shoving her hand into her boxers. she whined, her sopping cunt finally getting the attention it deserved. she inhaled deeply, breathing in and memorizing how you smelled.

“fuck…”

her fingers circled her clit, knees buckling as she slid down the door. she opened her mouth, allowing your panties to fall on her tongue. ellie moaned, fully soaking through the panties with her saliva. her mind began to wander, picturing you twitching and trembling on her tongue as she would eat you out.

how she wished she could.

she was so jealous of every girl you brought home, wishing she was the one making you moan and cry out in pleasure.

ellie scrambled up and went towards her bed, covering herself before continuing to assault her clit.

“ellie, you never texted me what you wanted so you get your own shit or use what I got!” you shouted, placing the grocery bags on the counter.

oh fuck.

“ellie! where are you?” you called out, walking down the hallway and stopping at her door.

she whined, desperately trying to make herself finish before you came in.

“what are you doing…” you opened her door to see ellie quickly hiding something, her hair messy and face flushed.

“sorry i was…working out.” she lied.

“in your bed, under the covers?”

“yeah. not weird at all.”

you looked at her quizzically, stepping further into the room,

“i see some boxers on the floor, are you lying to me, williams?” you asked, approaching her bed.

ellie’s heart raced.

“um..” she stammered.

“were you jacking off?” you pressed on, running a nail down her exposed collarbones.

“i-maybe…” ellie practically whimpered, her clit throbbing beneath the covers.

“yeah? i hope you know, ellie, i can see my panties back there.”

she flushed red, your observation making her even more aroused.

god, she was fucking nasty.

“did i interrupt you before you finished? poor thing…” you whispered into her ear, ghosting your fingers over her tank top covered breasts. her bare nipples ticled your palm as you traced circles into the fabric.

ellie breathed heavily in response.

“such a pervert…” you teased, now massaging her breasts with your whole hand.

“‘s true..” she whimpered, clenching her thighs together. “im fuckin’ nasty, baby.”

you leaned closer to her face, noses brushing against eachother.

“ive noticed how you watch me undress sometimes,” you continued, sliding your hand under the covers and lightly tracing your finger over her sopping cunt. “why do you think i always start groping myself huh? why i put on a show whenever my girls come over?”

she felt like she was gonna explode. her eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes, struggling to focus as your slowly teased her.

“please…” ellie moaned softly, pushing her hips into your palm.

“please what? want me to give in to your fantasies, ellie?” you said, leaning even closer.

she pushed her hips into your palm again, moaning at the contact. you closed the space between you two, firmly pressing your lips onto hers. you applied pressure to her clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive bud. ellie moaned into the kiss, gripping the covers until her knuckles still white as she tried to process what was happening.

you pushed your other hand up her shirt, groping ellies tits. she grabbed your waist, aggressively feeling you up like her life depended on it. she was going absolutely insane. you pulled away from her, watching your fingers work into ellies cunt while she moaned and trembled.

“why don’t you shut up and put my panties back in your mouth huh?” you said as ellie cried out.

goddamn.

this might just be the best night of her life.

[tinylilacbun]

Could you do a JJ’s little sister fanfic where she gets hit by Luke and JJ comforts her and takes her to the chateau to get her away from it? She could be like 13 maybe

Daddy Issues

Pairing: brother!jj maybank x sister!reader

Warnings: angst, child abuse, Luke, bruises, swearing

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You squint your eyes shut as you try to close the front door quietly, praying to god that your father is dead asleep or passed out from drinking.

Peeking inside the living room you sigh in relief when he is nowhere to be seen only to squeak when you bump into a chest, looking up to face your father.

"You're late." He states, the smell of beer reaches your nose and you refrain from the urge to scrunch your face up in disgust.

"M-My phone died and I lost track of time." You stammer, cursing at yourself mentally for giving him the satisfaction of knowing that he's scaring you.

"Uh-huh..." He trails off before his fist suddenly connects with your face, sending you on the ground from the inpact. "Care to explain why your goddamn school called me today 'cause you keep ditchin'?"

You cradle the side of your face, tears stinging in your eyes as you try to come up with an explanation only to flinch when he raises his hand again.

"If I get one more call I swear I'll give you a beating that you'll never forget." He seethes and when you don't give any acknowledgement he leans down to grab your face with one hand, his fingers digging uncomfortably into your skin. "Got it?"

"Y-Yes dad..." You answer, your voice shaking.

He let's go of you harshly, walking past you to get himself another beer and you quickly scramble off the floor to rush for your room, locking the door you press your forehead against it and let the tears finally flow.

Fun fact, the only times you don't go to school are the days you got another bruise from Luke, not wanting to keep explaining to your teachers where they're from and risking that CPS gives you a visit, knowing they would instantly take you and JJ into foster care and the chances that you both stay together is low.

You wouldn't know what to do without him. He's your big brother, the only person you can tell everything and see more as a father figure than Luke.

20 minutes later you're curled up on your bed, sobbing quietly into your pillow when a tapping on your window startles you, lifting your head to see JJ.

You force yourself to get up and walk over to the window, opening it for him to stumble through.

"Thanks...didn't wanna get caught by dad." He says, standing back straight he smoothes out his clothes, adjusting the cap on his head.

He doesn't notice what state you're in until you move back to your bed, getting a glimpse of your face from the lamp on your nightstand illuminating it.

His eyes widen as he approaches you. "Whoa, what happened." He asks, lifting his hand to grab your chin but when you flinch away he stops mid air, his jaw clenching the moment he realizes.

Luke. He's gonna kill him. He's gonna fucking-

JJ's thoughts are interrupted by you starting to sob, pulling you into a hug with a hand cradling the back of your head against his chest. "Shh, I'm here now...I got you."

He just stands there with you for a while, not making any move to pull away, waiting for you to make the first move and when you do he pushes you gently to sit down on your bed.

Without saying anything he grabs one of your bags and shoves some clothes into it and any necessities he thinks you might need, then crouches down to pick up the teddy bear you had since you were a baby and shoves it in there as well before he stands back up.

"Let's go." He grabs your hand and pulls you towards your window.

You don't protest and climb over the window seal, your feet touching the ground again you watch JJ come out after you and shut the window quietly.

He grabs your hand again and leads you to his dirt bike, helping you sling the bag onto your back, climbing onto his bike first he waits for you to get on as well.

After you do, you wrap your arms around him tightly, your face pressing against his back. JJ revs his bike before taking off towards the Chateau, knowing you'll feel safer there.

Arriving at your second home JJ stops the others from greeting you, telling them you need a moment and taking you inside, placing his hands on your shoulders he leans down to meet your gaze.

His heart aches at the sight of the blooming bruise on your right eye, your eyes puffy and red rimmed from the crying. "Go take a shower, I'm waiting with the others outside, yea?"

You nod, making your way to the bathroom JJ sighs, walking back outside he grabs a beer can and cracks it open, taking a big sip.

"What's up with tiny maybank?" John b asks, his concern growing when JJ starts pacing, pulling the cap off his head angrily.

"Fucking Luke..." The blonde mutters. "He hit her man! He hit my baby sister!"

Everyone's eyes widen, protectiveness and anger flaring up in all of them. You're the youngest of the group, so of course they see you as their own little sibling and would do anything for you, just like JJ does.

"Why? What happened? Is she okay?" Kie asks concerned and JJ scoffs.

"No, she's not fucking okay, kie. She has a damn black eye 'cause of this piece of shit!" He snaps at her, too worked up to see that his friends are just as worried and upset as he is.

"Man, calm down, okay? We're trying to help." Pope tries to ease the tension.

"Right, right. I'm sorry- I just...fuck. I should've been there I..." JJ trails off, feeling tears build up in his eyes but pushing them back.

He knows how you feel, the feeling of not understanding how someone who's supposed to love and take care of you can hurt you like that without batting an eye.

JJ feels even worse for not being there to protect you, to stop his father from laying a hand on you.

He sits down on the ground near the crinkling fire, his arms braced on his knees when he feels a hand on his shoulder, looking to his side to look at John b.

His best friend doesn't need to be a mind reader to know what he's thinking, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. "It's not your fault, jay. We're here for you both."

JJ just nods, giving him a small smile. "I know. Thank you. All of you."

Everyone's attention goes to the Chateau when they hear the screen door being shut, seeing you coming towards them, freshly showered and dressed in an oversized shirt.

JJ instantly gets on his feet again, approaching you to pull you into another hug and you wrap your arms around him, holding onto his shirt tightly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there I-"

"S'okay..." You whisper, already feeling a lot better being in the presence of your real family. "I love you, jay..."

"I love you too, kid." He whispers back, pulling back to press a kiss to your forehead. "More than anything.

You smile at him, the throbbing pain from your bruised eye slowly fading as you turn to look at the others. "Hey guys..."

"C'mon, sit with us, sweetie." Sarah pats the places next to her and you go to sit beside her, letting her wrap an arm around you.

The moment everyone gets settled again the usual banter and laughter kills the built up tension in the air, JJ keeping an eye on you the whole time to make sure you're alright.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[redflagshipwriter]

Snatching Snitches pt 3: Danny

Masterpost

Danny threw his bag on the sofa and kicked the front door shut without looking. His bag went too far and flipped over the side of the couch. It landed on the floor with a loud thump.

He groaned. “Come onnnnnn.” Danny trudged across the room to fix it and then yelped as a barrel appeared from the ceiling, humming with murderous power. It was aimed right at him. He hit the ground in a roll and dodged the laser blast. The scorched carpet immediately stank.

The next hit seared a hole through his sleeve, missing his arm by a hair’s breadth.

“Ah!” Danny screamed and flung himself behind the kitchen counter to find cover. There was no way a Fenton laser was getting through the marble countertop, right? He scrambled to pull the trashcan out to clear up a place to cower.

The basement door opened with a bang. 300lbs of screaming warrior flew up the stairs, bristling with guns and a grin. “Behold, the might of science!”

“Hi, Dad,” Danny said, contorting himself to fit in the nook where the trash bag was meant to be.

“Hey, Danno!” Dad rapidly changed positions, pointing his ghost guns in different directions to try to catch out the intruder he was looking for. “New sensor went off! Didja see something?” He was excited like a little kid.

Danny poked three fingers through the smoking hole in his shirt and wiggled them. “I saw the new laser,” he said dryly.

Dad’s face fell. “Oh, did you trigger it?” He sadly trudged over to disable the laser, which was furiously vibrating in place as it tried and failed to locate his ecto signature through the signal dampening over granite.

Danny felt his face twitch. “Yep.”

‘Thank gosh my parents can’t figure out how to get a good lock with anything but the boomerang. I would be toast if that thing got me.’

“Well, uh, thanks for testing that.”

Dad’s weapons somehow disappeared, which was great for Danny’s passive level of anxiety. He crawled back out into the kitchen itself and then shoved the trash can back into place. Footsteps thumped down the stairs and Jazz swung into view, already frowning.

“Dad, you didn’t install something new up here without telling us, did you?” She crossed her arms. “Don’t you think that’s hazardous?”

“Nonsense!” Jazz yelped and unsuccessfully dodged as Dad ruffled her hair. “It’s only harmful to spooks. Stay safe!” He trotted back down the stairs to the lab. The door slammed with finality.

Jazz looked at Danny. Danny looked at Jazz. He shrugged.

Her face fell. “I wish he wouldn’t do that,” she sighed. Then she pulled her hair band off with a grimace to begin untangling her hair. Strands stuck out and were wrapped around the accessory, so she only lifted it a few inches from her head before it jerked to a stop.

Danny huffed out a breath and then patted the kitchen counter. “Come here, where there’s cover,” he offered. “I’ll get that out for you.”

“Thanks.” Jazz came over and leaned down enough that he could disentangle her hair band. He did his best not to snap any of her hair strands. But he didn’t want to be too nice, so when he was done he yanked the hairband down to cover her eyes and then threw himself back with a giggle. Jazz shrieked and flung her arms out to smack him. She missed and flailed, fuming. “Ugh, Danny,” she complained. “You’re such a twerp!”

“Loserrrr,” Danny jeered.

Jazz pulled the hair band off and gave him the stink eye. “Turn on the TV. I wanna hang out.”

Wait, what? Danny squinted at her, caught off guard by the sudden change of direction. His sister gave him a smile that looked somewhere between sinister and mild. “No,” he said, not sure what was going on but sure that it wouldn’t be good for him.

Jazz huffed and put a hand on her hip. “If I’m right, you’re going to want to see it.” She sailed past him to grab a carton of juice from the fridge and then went upstairs.

He couldn’t help it. He followed her, caught in her gravity. Danny even knew he was springing her vile sister trap, but what else could he do?

It had been an error.

“Oh no,” Danny said, choked up. He put a hand over his mouth and watched in horror as iconic television host and book club archbishop Poprah leaned over her desk to shake the hand of a tiny little guy in a prim suit. He felt, not saw, Jazz curl her lips up like the Grinch.

“Thank you for having me,” Damian said. He used his hands to get onto the adult-sized chair and then folded them on his lap.

“It’s my pleasure,” Poprah beamed, her teeth very white. She looked as perfect and polished as Damian did. “It’s not every day that a Wayne goes on the record! I feel like I should treasure the opportunity, maybe ask some sneaky questions.”

Damian regarded her impassively. “Perhaps,” he said. “However, I cannot be led astray by your journalistic wiles, ma’am. I am here with a singular purpose.”

The crowd loved that. Poprah paused to let them react with laughs, blinking and smiling as she eagerly waited for the hubbub to die down. “Okay, okay,” she said, waving her hands around to gain the attention back. “No journalistic wiles. You’re too clever for that, I gotcha.”

Damian nodded briskly. “I appreciate your restraint.” That set the crowd off again.

‘I can’t tell if he knows what he’s doing.’

Danny stared bleakly at the tv, where his little boy was sitting with his feet dangling in the air. Surely that had to have been purposeful. The multimillionaire Poprah could have found a smaller chair if Damian had wanted to minimize….

‘Maybe he thinks that sitting in an adult sized chair makes him look more like an adult.’

Danny unsuccessfully hid his mouth further behind his hands, using both of them now. He couldn’t look away. It was a train wreck. He was grieving. He wanted to laugh.

“Well, Poprah,” Damian said in response to something the woman had said. “I am searching for my kitty cat. Might I use your projector?”

The crowd collectively said awwww. Damian must have been fuming, though he hid it well.

“I think I’ve heard something about this,” Poprah said gravely. “Go ahead.” She waved a hand and a ten foot projection of Danny as a scrungly cat appeared on the wall of the set.

The crowd did not say awww.

“Hey,” Danny muttered.

“Kinda cute,” Jazz said idly.

He perked up, and then realized that she had done this on purpose. He looked over and made eye contact. She knew. Jazz smiled again. He knew that she knew, and she knew that he knew she knew.

“How!” Danny leapt to his feet and flung an accusatory finger at his sister.

She regarded him calmly. This was her victory, he saw that now. “Danny, there is only one person in the world who would publicly tell Tucker that he had worms. I knew that you were with the Waynes, safe, and someone had taken you to get a checkup thorough enough to discover worms. It was the Nasty burger, wasn’t it?”

He stared at her, wounded by being perceived so clearly.

“You shouldn’t eat raw fish from anyplace with a black mark and DNI order from the food safety organization,” Jazz chided, not for the first time. “Anyway, no one takes teenage boys to get checked for worms unless they have a lot of self awareness.” She crossed her arms victoriously. “But they take a new cat to the vet!”

“What’s wrong with you,” Danny said, awed. “Your dark genius is terrible to behold.”

She brushed it off. “It was simple reasoning, Danny,” Jazz said, towering in her modesty. She was so scary. He leaned away. Then towards her, torn. “And of course it was obvious when poor little Damian Wayne started looking for his lost kitty cat.”

Oh. This was the knife. Danny leaned away, helpless to avoid the blow.

“It’s so sad,” Jazz said plainly. There was no need for dramatics. It was sad.

Danny considered the virtues of going ghostly enough to sink through the floor in abject shame. “…yeah.”

[lcriedlastnight]

Can you write something with Oscar based on this post

https://www.tumblr.com/girlonabreak/744982039484366848/may-i-offer-you-something-water-food-my

i’ll try my best anon! thank you very much for your request, i hope you like it!

tw: fem!reader, swears, lmk if you want anything added.

w/c: 2.3k

oscar was a little nervous to have you over. the relationship was fairly fresh and this would be the first time you would be at his place. he’d spent the week prior cleaning every single nook and cranny he could find, then going on tiktok and finding out how to clean the ones he didn’t even know existed. not that you would be inspecting the space behind his fridge for it’s cleanliness.

three days before, when he’d gone shopping, he texted you asking if you liked this specific brand of chocolate and if you would like some for when you stayed over at the weekend.

oscar had gotten more blankets, pillows and even got you a new teddy bear, scared that you would forget the one you couldn’t sleep without. he was determined that you were having a good nights sleep with him. you had slept together before, but not properly. those had only been you falling asleep during a film after a date or oscar coming over to yours the day after the race weekend and feeling so jet lagged he fell asleep on your couch two minutes after you started carding your fingers through his hair.

you had always made him feel so welcome at yours so he was desperate to make you feel the same. even though this was a bit different than those times he was at yours.

oscar pottered around fixing things that didn’t really need fixing at all. he triple checked the fridge incase all the food inside had gone missing. then he checked his bank account to make sure he still had his money and he hadn’t been hacked, just incase you wanted to order in or even go to the shops.

a soft knock at his door shoves oscar out of his thoughts, he runs to the door to answer. you were on the other side, weekend bag in hand. you had little to no makeup on and your hair was thrown up not too messily. oscar then thought about if you would want to shower and how he only had manly products. how could he forget to buy you shower stuff?

“osc?” you ask as you stand in the doorway. oscar blinks once, twice, then is scrambling to take your bag off you.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry. i don’t know where i was there. you look gorgeous. come in.” he says as he spins around and stands to the side to let you walk inside first.

you slowly walk inside and the first thing you notice is the amount of candles he has lit. it give the living room the most homely feel.

“your place is lovely, osc. it’s so cozy.” you tell him turning around from looking at the kitchen to face him. oscar grins at your words.

“thank you, pretty. you want me to put your bag in the room?” oscar asks, feeling a lot less high strung now that you were actually here in front of him. that usually did help calm him down.

you nod. oscar tries his best not to leave you standing all by yourself in the living room for too long. he basically sprints to his room and back. a blink and you didn’t even know he was gone, type of situation.

you’re not standing in the living room when he comes back thought. you’re sitting on the couch. you look like you belong there. it sends a wave of affection to oscar’s heart.

“you want to watch a film?” you ask him from the couch. you already had the remote in your hands.

“‘course, what kind are you feeling?” oscar asks, heading to the cupboard in the hallway to get the massive blanket he’d bought at the shops a few days earlier.

“dunno.” is your reply. oscar can tell you have a film in mind but you may be a little embarrassed to ask to watch it. as he comes to sit down beside you, he throws the blanket over the top of you and it almost suffocates you. instead of commenting on it you just get comfy. oscar rakes his brain for previous conversations about films to find the one you could watch everyday and not get tired of. as he remembers he snatches the remote off of you to bring it up. you don’t say anything but you watch on skeptically.

“this one seem okay? i’ve never seen it before but i heard you like it.” oscar says, a cocky smirk on his face as he sees the look on yours after you realise the film. you grin.

“yeah i supposed we could stick this one on and give it a go.” you pretend like you couldn’t quote the dialogue in your sleep. oscar pressed play on the film and instantly feels the need to be touching you. you had chosen to sit in the corner of oscar’s L shaped couch, an incredibly you thing to do, oscar thought. but because of where you decided to sit oscar was unsure how to go about touching you. he gives up trying to think of ways to get you in his lap.

“come sit in my lap.”

you turn your head from the tv, the opening credits rolling in the screen. “okay.” you reply, shuffling to follow his request.

it ended up that oscar was laying in the corner of the couch and faced the tv. you were sitting to his side with your legs slung over his, shoulders brushing against each other with every breathe. oscar holds one of your hands underneath the massive blanket, the other traces his name on your ankle - just above your socks.

a quarter of the way through, you shuffled around to get comfortable again, your head ended up resting on his bicep as you had moved down a little more. oscar had to hold back the coo that threatened to escape him as he felt your check squash up against his skin. oscar throws his focus back on the tv, as hard as it is he wants to know the film you love so much.

at the end of the first act, oscar moves his attention back to you, he wonders if you’re hungry but are just too scared to ask. or if you were waiting on him to offer you something. were you tired and just wanted to move to bed right now? it wasn’t that late surely. what if you actually did want to go for that shower right now? would he have enough time to go buy some flowery shampoo and body wash so you wouldn’t end up smelling like him?

“can i get you anything to eat?” oscar asks, thumb rubbing over your ankle bone. he wonders if this is the ankle you broke when you were five, or if it was the other one.

“are you hungry?” you ask oscar, head turning to look up at him. the aussie almost melts at your expression. “i am if you are.” you say to him.

this confuses oscar but he decides that eating wouldn’t hurt. he doesn’t care if you don’t eat it all.

“you want to order in or just make something here?” he asks again. it makes him feel bad making you choose but he wants to make sure you’re completely comfortable with him tonight. the time when he can just know what you want and do it for you was right around the corner and he couldn’t wait for it.

“order in.” you say after a few moments of silence. “don’t want to move from here until bed.” you explain. although oscar didn’t think you needed to explain, he thought it was cute. he thought the same thing anyway, not having felt this content in months.

“fine by me. i’ll order it and it should be here soon.”

your film finishes and you and oscar finish the food. you talk a little at the end of the film, asking him about how lando and zak were doing and how strong the car was. don’t get oscar wrong, as much as he loved his job and the fact that you took so much interest in what he did, he just wanted a day where he could sit with you and hypothesise whether or not spider-man was too young to be spidering across the city. instead of telling you this he changed the topic, comfortably so you don’t notice.

“it’s getting late. are you getting tired, pretty?” he asks. he can see the way your shoulders are a little more slumped as you sit in front of him, the film behind you having ended and instead playing a trailer for some unrelated tv series. you nod to answer his question. “a little, yeah.”

“c’mon then. bedtime for us.” oscar says picking you up by your waist and flinging you over his shoulder. he carries you to the bathroom where he sits you on the counter. you are laughing all the way there. oscar’s already thinking about which ring would suit you more. he goes in the cabinet underneath the sink and grabs a pack of two toothbrushes. one pink, one blue. it’s so domestic, oscar nearly burst when he seen them in the shops and thought of giving the pink one to you.

“i know you brought a bag full of stuff and you probably have a toothbrush with you but i thought you could keep this one here and i could maybe clear out a drawer for you in my bedroom for you to keep things here so you don’t have to go back and forth for clothes.” oscar rambles as he puts toothpaste on both brushes and hands yours to you. it’s like oscar keeps forgetting that this is the first time you’re sleeping over, mind already thinking about the next time, and the next and the next.

oscar shoves his brush in his mouth to stop his mouth. you laugh at him. “i would like that. thank you osc.” you say before copying him and brushing your teeth. oscar watches like you were doing something really interesting, his eyes darting over your face. tonight he learns another new thing about you, you’re a really messy brusher. toothpaste slipping down your chin as you brush. he has to hold back the laugh that longs to escape him, not wanting to cover you in more toothpaste than you already have all over you.

oscar spits into the sink then quickly rinses his mouth with mouthwash, then spitting that out too. you follow his actions, hopping down from the counter to spit into the sink, standing in front of oscar. before you can rinse your mouth out with mouthwash though, oscar turns your face to his with a gentle hand.

“you got a little something..” you smile at his words. oscar belonged in a romcom for sure. the boy’s thumb coming out to brush away the leftover toothpaste on your chin. you smile at him in thanks but your smile falls as he wipes it on the shoulder of your t-shirt.

“oscar! why would you do that! what’s wrong with you!?” you squeal. oscar laughs hard, his head thrown back in joy. you’re not really mad, the smile on your face hard to miss. it’s hard to be angry at the boy in front of you who literally looks like the human version of the sun.

once you’ve finished in the bathroom - oscar yapping away as you take your makeup off and done your skincare at the sink - he pulls you to his bed.

“you want to change in here or do you want me to go to the bathroom?” oscar asks, throwing you the t-shirt he’s just washed (and maybe sprayed with his cologne before you came over). you catch it before hesitating with your answer. oscar answers for you.

“why don’t you get changed in the bathroom and i can get a big reveal, seeing you with my t-shirt on?” oscar asks, giddy at his own idea. you nod, if only just to please him, although you do like his idea, thinking it’s cute he wants that.

you’re quick to get changed, your hair taken out of the ponytail to hand down, it will probably get in your face tonight. you hurry out the bathroom to find oscar sitting on top of the bed in his own pyjamas. oscar’s eyes light up at the sight of you.

“jesus christ, pretty girl. you’re going to kill me.” he says standing up, arms outstretched like he would die if he didn’t touch you in the next ten seconds. you happily fall into his embrace. face against his chest. oscar’s nose in your hair.

“you smell like you and me.” oscar smiles as he pull away from the hug and pulls you into bed instead. you laugh at his discovery. “as long as i smell good.” you tell him.

after a quick okay fight over who was getting what side of the bed, you are both cuddled up to each other. it most definitely won’t stay like this all night because what oscar doesn’t know yet is you move a lot in your sleep. he’ll find that out in the morning, but for now he’s happy to have you right where he wants you. oscar is big spoon as his arms are wrapped around you, big hands under your top and on your warm, soft skin. leg over your hip, keeping you trapped under him, not that you would ever complain about that.

the teddy bear oscar had gotten you incase you forgot yours was laying at the bottom of the bed, while you clutch yours to your chest. one of your hands ghosting over oscar’s on your stomach.

the tv is on, playing some sitcom you’d asked for. oscar never usually sleeps with the tv on but for you? he would sleep on a bed of nails if it made you comfortable.

“g’night, pretty baby.” oscar mumbles into your hair, not bothering that it was in his face. you mumble something of the sort back, he knew you were basically asleep. ‘this is my future.’ oscar thought to himself before he fell asleep.

[prettypinkpuddles]

P ⭐️ R N S T A R Y / N

alright, since there is an influx of girl characters, i’m going to be adding to the of Cam Girl Y/N, which you can read by clicking just above! ⇡⇡⇡

characters include Furina, Xilonen, Charlotte, Chiori, Arlechinno, Xianyun

modern AUs for some characters (indicated with☕️), voyerism/exhibition, spanking, zhongli cameo(with Xianyun), blowjob, cuninnlingus, duh, dom and sub dynamics, filming and pictures, toy usage, audio recording, stripping

please enjoy ⭐️

🎭𝔏𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔲𝔡𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢

having lots of eyes on Furina was something she was used to. when she was clothed and prepared for everything because she rehearsed for it. not when she was stripping and drinking with you as a full house of patrons watched in their seats. she squirmed as you unhooked her black bra and a giggle pulled itself from your lips.

“the first to drop 25,000 mora will get to keep her bra for the rest of the performance.” you teased, sending a great deal of people scrambling from their seats to show you pouches of mora. you strutted to the end of the stage taking each bag and weighing them in your hands before you decided one was hefty enough, exchanging it for the bra to a tall woman with navy blue and green accents on her jeweled masquerade mask.

she smiled wickedly as the fabric touched her, unable to read her expression as excitement or mischief due to the anonymity rule, but Furina still whimpered as you walked back to her

“i… i thought we were going to be quick with my performance…!” she said nervously with a giggle as her fingers came over her own facial covering. you nodded and pushed her down on the chair, announcing that Madam Bleu was going to leave in 3 minutes. those two minutes were spent completely ruining her.

you tweaked her nipples, smothered her tits with kisses, bruised her neck in a beautiful mosiac of purples and reds. then her cunt, swirling over her clit, prodding her hole with the tip of your tongue, spreading her folds and kissing the entire thing. it drove her crazy, she bucked and twitched, singing out a melody for the leering crowd, begging to be allowed to make a grand exit.

you pulled away, “i thought you wanted to keep things simple, just light teasing.” a twisted grin tugged your lips up and she nearly growled, the tears bubbled at the corners of her big eyes spilling out. you laughed and turned, “what do you think? should Madam Bleu give you all a departure you’ll never forget?”

nobody could really answer, they were far to busy stroking their dumb dick or petting their pussies. you turned back and Furina took her hair, shoved her cunt into your mouth and just abused you. she rode you like a cowgirl, gasping and fluttering as her face contorted with the sudden flicks of your tongue.

“gods…” she shivered, hunching her back as her breathing grew more ragged with each chant to Celestia. then she arched back and nearly screamed, her legs shook erratically, her lungs stopped taking in air, her eyes twitched and her mouth was locked in an O.

“my, my…” you mused when her grip loosened. “that was wonderful, Madam.”

📸 𝙻𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜, 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊, 𝙲𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶 ☕️

charlotte was watching you through her lens with deep sexual energy building in her. you were completely nude on a casting couch, a sweet smile on your face and your hair done nicely. you were filming a stupid porno as suggested by your subscribers, who had pleaded recommended that you work with Wriothesley, but he wasn’t here. you looked a bit past the camera, “would you like to fill in?”

charlotte blurred out a noise of shock and looked at you, “pardon?”

“you would like to indulge me in sex?” you teased.

“i… i couldn’t.” she excused, “the camera, and your co-star-!”

you rolled your neck at the door he was supposed to come through, “who isn’t here. and i’m so tired of waiting to be fucked roughly for a bunch of limp dicks.” she wanted to laugh at that.

you were referring to the 40k people who watched your content, no matter how to raked the prices, they were always going to pay to see your tits. “come on, set the camera over there. and let me make you stop thinking.”

she looked over to the dresser behind her, taking a few cautious steps to it, “i’m sure your fans wouldn’t want to see me.”

she was a stark contrast to you, a plucky, pink haired girl with excitement at everything. and you, a beautiful, snarky-worded lady who was more than willing to show her feet for 300 bucks. it was perfect porn plot.

Charlotte took a few steps to you and settled on the green cushion, nervously squishing at her thighs. “can i kiss you?”

you nodded

“like, everywhere?”

another nod, this time a giggling grin crept over your face

“like… this?” her lips found your nervously, a sneaky peck before you initiated a deeper kiss, pulling her over your lap as she feverishly sighed, “can i-?”

you slide your thumb down her lips, shushing her sweetly, “don’t ask, love. just do it.” you tugged at her burgundy jacket on her shoulders, unbuttoning the tauple curling lining her top and completely exposed her skin to the cool air and the camera, “see how i doing? just like this~” you said before popping one of her little boobs in your mouth, suckling and licking her nipple like it was going to give you a reward. she mewled and cracked a broken smile as she shakily breathed. your touch was the scorching fire to her sizzling ice, her fingers roamed over your body aimlessly as you continued to kiss her chest, finding a spot that made you gasp and slightly pause

this time she was grinning, crawling below to sit in front of the couch and peel open your legs, gasping at the near nothing you were wearing

it was a simple pink lace, supposed to be ripped by your late ass co-star but now Charlotte was pulling them back and giving your lips a hesitant lick. you let out a high pitched moan at the new action, and it seemed to spur her on to start licking it in broad strokes. more moans pulled out of you as her fingers wormed inside of you, her free hand inching up to roughly palm and pinch your boobs.

“just like that, darling~” you encouraged and let your eyes fall shut, stewing in the immense deep pleasure she was feeding you. her fingers twisted and her mouth attached over your clit and her throat began to pull the nub toward it. she was like a vacuum, suckling and grunting obnoxiously but you couldn’t care less, fuck she felt good, her hand messily playing with your chest and her fingers expertly rubbing your gummy insides made you melt in her mouth.

👥𝒫ℯ𝓇𝒻ℴ𝓇𝓂𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ ℐ𝓂𝓂ℴ𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓈

this is heavily inspired by some art from Kinkymation, please check her out, she doesn’t amazing art of all hoyo games and more

It was torture, why did you agree to this? being used by Zhongli and Xianyun…. you don’t never know why or how you got into this predicament but you weren’t complaining. especially when Xianqyun plucked you right off of the lord’s cock and laid you down on the edge of the bed, your head just over it.

“relax, Y/N; one shall provide proper pleasures to your sensitive body.” she looked at Zhongli’s stirring dick as she said that and leaned forward. her tits squished on top of yours and you nearly died. her tongue plugged you up immediately, swirling and sliding around your canal as though she was trying to imitate his fucking. but it was different, her tongue was more slender and pointed, maybe like a bird’s, and it keep scrapping against your sensitive spot.

you choked on your spit as her knees caged your head in, “oh gods, stars above, please!” words oozed out of your mouth as you tried to not say Rex Lapis, privy on the fact that he was in the room, you didn’t want to upset the woman who was lavishing over your body and the man who was now watching gracefully as he desperately fucked his fist.

“does one wish to have a release?” she teased and you nodded, heaving out yeses that made her chuckle and kiss your pussy loudly, “very well. one shall allow herself to be covered in your essence. for it pleases me so to-”

you rocked your knees and whined as though you were in pain, “please, Madam Xianyun, please make me cum! i can’t take it any longer!”

Zhongli chuckled deeply and you felt your cunt pulse from the low octave, “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’ve got her rather… frustrated.”

“you clearly don’t!” Xianyun declared, “speaking when one did not speak to you first!” she pulled her arms around your thighs and flipped, putting you on top and her on the bottom. her patter your cheeks and you inched forward, then lowered onto her face for her to latch onto your lips.

you cried out in pleasure, becoming lost in the way she swirled and flicked over your clit, slurped and tongued your hole, drinking your juices as though you were life itself. “oh, thank you! thank you so much, Miss Xianyun!”

a growl bubbled from Zhongli and he was suddenly in front of you, “Bend Down.” he commanded and you slowly followed, your face now right in front of his balls.

“suck.”

you opened your mouth and pressed your tongue to his tip. Zhongli hissed and slammed up into you, digging his fingers in your hair. he began to facefuck you, completely ruin your makeup and throat, not caring that you were choking, gagging and welling up with tears. his thrust slowed to the sound of the elongated moans you soon let out, praising your skill and ability to hold his cock in as Xianyun abused your swollen cunt

🎶 𝙵𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝 ☕️

if you want to follow the beat too, please listen to

yknow those sex toys you can hook up to your phone? yeah, Xilonen bought that, and it was one that followed the beat of the music she was playing.

“hey guys,” she spoke into the microphone, then explained to her audience that she was going to be using a toy on you and recording the sounds you made for your 1 million follower special. using the two on you, not with. but here you were both rubbing against the toy, Xilonen panting above your shaking body.

a new song began to play, the low beat causing the vibrator to pulsate against the opening of your pussy deliciously, “fuck, i love this song.” Xilonen purred and you chuckled as your hands came up to cup her tits. “just as much as i’m loving this.” she pulled her hips back as the woman began to sing and began to swing them back and forth slowly

“you’ve said that for the past three songs.” you groaned and pulled your hips up to hers, the toy settling nicely between you two.

Xilonen chuckled and brought her head back, “that’s because the songs are so good.” a second woman began to sing and your girlfriends hand wrapped around your throat and pulled you up, “i mean, look just beneath us; a complete fucking mess.”

a chuckle of agreement came from you as your hands slid down her back, wrapping her to your body. your fingers pinched her nipples as her hand found a place in your hair; the toy began to change, following the higher knocks of the song, vibing in hard motions as the song swelled, the two women singing in tandem as you and Xilo began to play with each other, grinding over one another.

“well is it?” she whispered into your ear with a sneak in her tone.

you shivered and let out a moan before responding, “is what, silly?”

the vibrator stated shaking spontaneously, following the electric notes of the melody before wafting into a slower rhythm. a sudden orgasm washed over you, compounded by Xilonen grabbing the handle of the toy and pushing it up and down between you two. that broke you; her hands let you go and you crashed into the bed and an overstimulating frenzy, gasping frantically as little groans made their way out from your throat.

“oh, that’s it~!” she cheered darkly, “squirt for me, Y/N-sweetie!” she roughly dug the vibration into your clit and kissed your skin to soothe you through the straining action of nerves breaking pleasure.

🪩 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒾𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒮ℯ𝒶𝓂𝓈𝓉𝓇ℯ𝓈𝓈 ☕️

it was perhaps the strangest bit of irony you had come across; working in this strip club was full of surprises. you had seen Lyney stroll in and fall apart in the plushness of one girl, Navia was constantly wrapped with Clorinde, but this. oh this was the cherry on top of the gossip cake.

Chiori of Chioriya Boutique was paying you top dollar to see you strip from her custom made lingerie.

her crimson eyes pierced you and it was like a spotlight was on you to perform. you slowly pulled the underwear down your thighs, plucking them from one foot then the other with a carefull stretch to them before you brought your hands up to your breasts.

the bra was beautiful no doubt, a perfect mulberry that blended perfectly into the lights. you squished your chest and tugged the first strap to your arm.

“stop.”

you froze, hearing Chiori stand up and walk to you, her hand grabbed your chin, for softer than expected but she still forced you to look at her.

“i asked for a strip tease, not a cosmetic commerical.” she corrected and you swallowed as you glued your eyes to the floor

“i’m sorry, Miss Chi,” you excused, “i just thought this was pure business.”

“it is,” she said, stepping back to the leather chair she was on previously. “but business for you. so do your job and make me feel something.”

you instinctively followed her, finally seeing her as another client of the club and slowly straddled her. you plopped your center of gravity right on Chiori’s lap, grinding over her as your lips kissed her neck.

“yes,” she shuddered into your touches, feeling up and down your body. “just like that, girl.”

you worked your way down her body, kissing and licking, suckling and even biting her skin. all the way down until you wear on your knees in front of her legs. “what do you want me to do?”

her head tilted and you reformed the question, “do you want to use my head like a decorative pillow, or make me dig it out of you?”

she let out a little groan at that, probable at the idea of them. she lowered herself, settling deeper into the seat and her knees came up and nestled over your shoulders, “both. please?”

you looked down at her, seeing her twitch reflexively. your mouth open and cupped her mood, starting to kick and worm through her lips and tease her folds. she gasped and held a moan back as you let out a moan through your nose, burying yourself deeper between her thighs.

“good girl.” she praised as she put her hand in your hair, gripping it gently. you pulled your head up and licked a long strip up to her pubis.

“are you going to start?” you asked.

her eyes met yours as she let out a few heavy breaths, “start what?”

“fucking my face like a vibrator?”

🔴 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊𝙾𝚗

maybe Alrechinno just liked her face buried in a woman’s legs. or maybe the Knave liked you, the noises you made and how sweetly you were singing for her.

“keeping tweeting, birdie.” she instructed, using her tongue to conduct a symphony from you, “i’m sure our viewer will love the way you sound.”

moans pulled out of you like an endless string from one of Lyney’s magic tricks, some shaky gasps, a few screaming cries but they were all please for her to keep her mouth on your pussy. she lavished over you, licking your clit like it was ice cream, then delving deep inside of your cunt, rubbing against your spongy walls until you fluttered around her like a vice.

a deep groan came out of her and she brought her hand up and across your ass. you squeaked and look down at her.

“get up, birdie.” she ordered and you immediately moved away from her face.

the camera was observed from her head and your eyes were hidden with a blindfold, concealing your identity from the people who were going to pay millions for this video and letting your mind wander to all of the things she could be getting. you squirmed as your hand crawled down your stomach to between your thighs, tickling your clit as you thought of what dildo she was going to use on you.

the idea of the green one with the fat base came to mind, how it’d plug you so full when she’d bottom out. or the deep blue one with the upwards curve, it even had a cum feature that’s bloat your tummy in the best way. the magenta and pink one with the stubby ribs over it, the textured black one, the slender. yellow one; all the different option made your head spin.

you suddenly cried out, feeling something bulbous shove into you. you gasped and realized you had bent yourself down and was ready for Arlechinno to take you doggy, which she now was. her hand found your throat and ripped you to her, feeling her manicured nails poke your skin as her lips tickled your ear, “such a slut you couldn’t wait?” she dropped and you let let out a groan, “i’ll show you what an impatient slut gets.”

she slapped her ass maybe three, four times before she benga to thrust in roughly, “what does an impatient slut get, bird?”

she yanked your hips down on her, not bothering to listen to your pathetic cries for her to slow down or stop spanking you.

“tell me, Y/N.” she ordered. “what do they get?” she grabbed you hair and brought you to sit up, arching your back she she pounded into you.

moans and weak attempts at speech chirped out of you, “p…. p-pu… oh fuck, they… they get…” your hand mindlessly came down circle your clit, making her spank you hard this time. “punished…”

“good Y/N.” she purred and slammed into you, “punished. now make a mess.” her nails pierced your hip as she ruined you, ripping a shuddering orgasm out of your body. your nerves screamed and punched your skin, sending you falling over the bed with a weak cry. she pulled the dildo out and you sighed, feeling a dull emptiness for a few minutes before it was stuffed with a new feeling.

it was curved slightly with a fuller underside at the base. then it shook.

“fuck…! wait, wait! oh god!” you begged and it pulled out and slammed back into with a little clap, “please, please- fu… f..” the Knave smacked your ass, gripping to the cheek and you whimpered out, “Daddy!” the toy was make your see Celestia, completely unraveling the quiet persona you were supposed to be playing for the camera, but Alrechinno didn’t mind, and something was telling you that the viewers weren’t going to either.

that became your little mantra, prayer, chant, whatever the fuck. pleading for Daddy to slow down, give you a little break but she want going to give it to you, using you relentless, forcing you to keep playing with yourself, even fuck yourself on the vibrating dildo.

i hope you enjoyed this, i might make bigger or continuations to certain girls depending on if my brain can pump out a full idea

if you want to read more of my content, click here!

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: you and idia prepare for a fun day at the beach!

COMMENTS: this is my entry for my own event, sweet shroud summer 2024!! be sure to check it out here!! (shameless self promotion)

IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT I READ THROUGH THIS ONCE AND I DONT FEEL LIKE DOING IT AGAIN

If you asked Idia, today would have been a perfect day to stay inside. The air was warm, the sun was out, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. That was the perfect weather to sit in with the air conditioning and a tub of ice cream, munching on some instant ramen noodles and binge watching one of his favorite anime or absolutely wiping the floor with some idiots in his new favorite game.

If you asked Idia’s partner of two years now, they would disagree.

They came knocking on his door late in the morning, calling his name through the door. Idia, still in his pajamas, scrambles to put a hoodie over his head to at least look somewhat presentable. He briefly checks his appearance in his computer monitor, and once deciding that you’ve definitely seen him looking worse, he cracks open the door.

He knows why he’s been so self conscious around you lately, the "summer body" season in full swing. He doesn’t like thinking about it. Regardless of his appearance though, you beam as if seeing him is the best thing that could have happened to you today.

“Hi.” you breathe, pupils blown as you take him in.

Idia scratches his arm awkwardly, shuffling his feet from behind the door.

“Um, yeah. Hi.”

You giggle, placing a hand on the door.

“May I come in?”

He lets you in, hurrying to clean up extra wrappers and misplaced mangas as you step into his room, eyes following his every move. He’s so cute when he gets nervous around you, shoving things into the various corners of his room to make it look cleaner even though you know his room has always been messy. He’s still in his pajama shorts and his fiery hair is even more untamed than usual.

It makes your heart flutter.

There’s a sweet sense of domesticity that bubbles up in your heart as you take in a sight nobody else has ever seen, the bare skin of his legs and the rolled up sleeves of his hoodie as he throws what looks like five instant ramen cups into a trash can by his desk.

His face is bright pink, and so are the tips of his beautiful beautiful hair.

You part your lips as he turns towards you, bashful and unsure, ducking his head before his hair. You giggle again and his heart picks up in his chest, sharp teeth gnawing at his lower lips. They’re chapped because he has yet to moisturize, and his heart jolts for an entirely different reason when he realizes you might be looking.

Why is he such a mess!?

“Idia, stop getting in your head, okay? Here.” you  dig through your unusually large bag and pull out some chapstick.

Idia flushes pink as you cup your hand in front of him. He places his chin in your palm obediently, and averts his eyes as you apply chapstick to his lips. He rubs them together when you pull away and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Cmere.” you gesture him forward, closer to you again, and Idia feels himself get even warmer.

You lean in and give him a quick peck, murmuring “sharing is caring” against his lips. He snorts at the cheesiness and you can tell his nose is crinkling in half fake half very real disgust. It’s okay—he can take the cringeworthy couple things if it's with you.

“So...um, what do you want to do today?” Idia asks, eyeing the giant bag you have slung over your shoulder. He knows you have a plan, but he doesn’t know if he’d call it a good one.

Yet.

“I’m so glad you asked!” you beam, setting your bag on the ground and rummaging through it, “I was thinking we could take a trip to the beach! When we were watching that anime last night, you said you wanted to try out some of the things they were doing and I knew I had to take you!”

Idia freezes, the scratching of his arm ramping up in intensity as you riffle through the bag. He hadn’t been expecting you to be paying attention to anything he said during that marathon, much less plan anything like this for today. 

“So I got us matching swimsuits, plus swim socks so we don’t poke our feet on anything.” you look up from your bag at him, smiling so brightly, “I wouldn’t want my baby getting hurt.”

Idia flushes even brighter at the pet name and you laugh, handing him a pair of swim shorts and a shirt. He silently thanks you for the cover up, and you two turn away from each other to change into your swim suits. He knows you won’t look at him when he’s changing but he can’t deny the anxiety that comes with being in the same room as you while he’s vulnerable, and so he changes as fast as he possibly can and tells you he’s done.

You take a little bit longer to change, but it isn’t long before you tell him he can turn around too.

He turns, and sure enough, you’re matching. He thinks you look so nice in that shade of blue, and little does he know you think very much the same.

“Can I help apply your sunscreen?” you ask, dangling a neon yellow bottle between your thumb and index finger.

“Are...are you sure?” he winces, “You don’t have to touch me.”

“Idia...I want to if you’ll let me. I don’t want you to burn.” you say softly, eyebrows furrowed.

It's like talking about himself like that hurts you.

“If...you wouldn’t mind...I’d like that.” he slumps down to the floor and tucks his head in between his knees, the tips of his hair turning bright pink again.

“Okay. Can you relax for me?” you ask gently, kneeling by his side.

He takes a few breaths before sitting up, turning to look at you. You beam as his eyes lock onto yours, and you pop the cap open. He holds out his hand to get his legs, and you squirt some into your palm to do his arms.

His arm hair is soft under your fingers as you rub the sunscreen in, making sure to hit every spot that the sun could possibly touch. You can feel his skin warming under your palms, and it makes a soft smile bloom across your face. You run your thumb over the inside of his wrist, and the pad of your finger catches on the tough tissues of his tendons. His fingers twitch at the contact, and you briefly find yourself fascinated by just how boney his wrists are. You sigh softly, your breath hitting his skin. He shudders, and you giggle.

“You know Idia...” you murmur, resting your chin on his shoulder, “You’re very soft. And warm.”

He huffs in annoyance, but the sound is empty of animosity. His red face tells you everything.

When it’s time to move to his other arm, you scoot over to Idia’s other side and press a kiss to the top of his head as you pass. It flusters him to no end, but it's so important to you that he knows how much you love him. That you don’t think he’s filthy and full of sin, for one reason or another.

“Are you done with your legs?” you ask, rubbing the last bit of the cream into his upper arm.

He nods in affirmation, wrinkling his nose.

“I don’t like the way it feels on my skin at all.” he groans, rubbing his fingers together and wincing, “Especially my hands. Gross.”

“Then let’s get your hands washed, honey.” you set the sunscreen on the ground before getting up, offering him a hand when you’re steady on your feet.

He tries not to think about the pet name as he stumbles after you, letting you lead him down the hallway and into Ignihyde’s bathroom. There's another student in there washing their hands, and they gawk when they lay eyes on their Housewarden in a bathing suit.

“Hey there!” you greet cheerfully, dragging Idia past him, “Don’t mind us!”

Apparently seeing Idia like that and with another person was shocking enough that he just listened. Stumbling out of the bathroom like he’d seen a ghost, the door swinging shut behind him.

Silence. Then, you chuckle.

“Wow Idia, your dorm members do not grasp the concept of subtly at all.” you joke, bumping hips with him, “Now come on, let’s get the gross sunscreen feeling off our hands!”

You two wash your hands in silence, only broken by the occasional humming from you or him.

“Is that any better?” you ask once you two are done, and Idia nods slowly.

You take his hands again and lead him out of the bathroom, picking up the pace to make sure you make it to his room before he runs into anybody else. That one encounter was probably more enough for Idia today, especially when you’d insisted the two of you wear matching bathing suits.

“You look cute in it, by the way.” you mention, turning to look over at him, “I don’t think I said it before, but you look cute.”

He squeaks and hides behind his free hand, muttering the fastest “thankyou” you have ever had the pleasure of hearing.

Once you’re both settled back in his room, you sit with your legs criss crossed on his floor, and Idia sits beside you. Your knees are touching as you take out your phone, calling your transportation so you can Idia can arrive at the beach safely. He busies himself with picking up the sunscreen bottle from the floor and folding your clothes, placing them on his bed. The sheets are wrinkled and he tries to smooth them out, cheeks pink as he sets your clothes down next to his. You confirm the ride and put your phone away, standing up and catching his attention.

“While we’re waiting for the ride I figured we could go on a snack run. Would you mind going with me?” you ask, eyes searching his for any apprehension.

“Um...there’s going to be people there, right?” he murmurs, grasping at a chunk of his hair and running his fingers through the strands nervously, “I, um...I don’t want to go, if that’s okay.”

“Honey, of course it’s okay. I’ll be right back.” you reach out and take his hand, planting a kiss in the middle of his sweaty palm before pulling away.

“Ack—! Um, why did you do that? My hands are really sweaty and—”

“And I love you, that's why. Sweaty hands and all.” you interrupt, reaching for his other hand and peppering kisses all over it, “I’ll see you later, love.”

You smile and wave as you leave, shutting the door securely behind you. Idia stands awkwardly in the center of his room for a short while, unsure of what to do with himself now that you’re gone. He finds himself lowering himself to the floor once again, next to your bag. The top is open and next to the sunscreen he threw in there earlier is the scrunchie you always put in his hair. Next to that is a small journal, the blank cover giving it an air of mystery.

He shouldn’t look why would he look he should leave it alone—

He grabs the notebook and cracks open the first page.

The words date plan are scribbled out in your all too familiar handwriting at the top of a lined page. You used your favorite colors of ink, doodling hearts in the margins and using little blue flames as your bullet points.

Invite Idia to the beach to get him outside for once! Pamper him so he doesn’t feel too uncomfortable.

He expressed a lot of discomfort with unfamiliar sensations. Offer to apply sunscreen for him so he doesn’t have to get any of his hands. (Note: he does not like his legs being touched. If he holds out his hand to get his legs just give him some.)

Make sure to give him plenty of kisses and buy him ice cream. They have a limited edition Premo ice cream stand set up by the beach today.

His eyes fly over the page, heart fluttering in his chest. It’s so silly but it’s so you, putting so much effort into a guy like him. The absolute bottom of the barrel.

It’s like his favorite character’s SSR card just came home.

It’s like his favorite anime just got a beach episode.

It’s like you’re everything he’ll ever look forward to, all at once.

If Idia gets burned, make sure you take care of him later.

If Idia wants you to stay over afterwards, stay over with him and do whatever he wants for the night.

If Idia says ANYTHING bad about himself, make sure he knows that it's not true at all!

His face must be bright red right now, the tips of his hair hot pink. You have such a visible effect on him, no matter what you were doing but especially when you were praising him so sweetly. Making up cute dating plans like he's seen in anime, Giving him his own beach episode experience. Taking note of that new Premo ice cream that he knew was only at a few select beaches, and you picked a beach that had one just for him.

And Idia, if you find this and end up reading it, whether I showed it to you or you just got curious, I hope this shows how much I love you. I want you to know that no matter what, I’m always going to be in your corner, even if you shove me out I’ll come back, because I know you want me there. Maybe not forever, maybe not always, but so long as you let me come back to you and chip away at your walls, I’ll be there.

I love how pretty your hair is. It moves so gracefully, like an actual fire. I love how warm you are, and I love how careful your hands are. I love how small your wrists are and the curve of your elbows, I love your teeth and your lips and your eyes, I love how you shine when you talk about the things you love and I love how you look in black. I love how your face twists up when you’re annoyed and I love how you look when you get your favorite character in a gacha. I love how you’re always so dedicated to improving yourself and your craft, I love how sweet you are to me even though you think you’re being slick. I love how smug you get when you win and I love how you lean over and teach me how to play video games when I’m confused. I love how you let me learn on my own but still give me guidance when we have game nights. I love how you let me drag you places sometimes, I hope you know I’m so so thankful you let me. It will forever be special to me that you trust me to take you to my favorite places, and I hope soon we can go to a Premo concert together one of these days

 I’m sure I’ll love the way you swing your glow stick around, I’m sure I’ll love the way you’ll pass out on your bed after everything is over, I’m sure I’ll love the way you hold me as you sleep.

And if you let me,  I’ll love the way wrinkles form in your features, I’ll love your stretch marks, I’ll love the way your joints creak, I’ll love the way your hair turns gray. I’ll love the way you grow older and wiser but the way you’ll still be the same Idia.

If you let me, I’ll make silly little date plans every single outing we have. I’ll tell your mother all about them years from now and we’ll laugh, and I’ll debrief her on my next one. I’ll get your favorite colored pens and use them until I’m sure they’re dead, I’ll decorate my heart and my life with you because I don’t want anybody else.

If you let me, I’ll love you forever. My sweet boyfriend. You’re the smartest, most talented, kindest soul I have ever met. I want to treasure you for as long as I live, if you let me.

A gargled squeak escapes his lips as he sinks even deeper into the floor, falling over in the fetal position. His eyes are full of tears and his bottom lip is wobbling—argh, he has such an ugly crying face—and he knows he looks like a mess but after everything he just read his heart and mind are full of love, love, love.

You see a future with him. You actually do. You seriously, seriously do. Even after everything that happened at STYX. Even after everything he’s told you about himself and his family.

You’re just so impossible. How is he supposed to deal with so much affection at once!?

A knock on the door and a soft announcement of your presence is the only warning he gets before you enter his room, turning to shut the door behind you.

“So you’ll never guess what happened, Sam had a sale on ramune soda so I picked up a few—!” you finally turn around, freezing when you see your boyfriend on the ground, curled up around a familiar notebook.

“Um...I love you.” he chokes out, so quiet you barely hear it.

He turns over completely, eyes puffy and red and watery, and mouths it again, like no noise could come out of his throat even if he wanted it to.

Your eyes go wide at his quiet, tearful declaration. He must be overwhelmed.

You set down all the snacks before you take him into your arms, rubbing his back as he clings to you. It’s rare to see him like this, all vulnerable, but your expression goes soft when you think about that note you wrote for him.

You were vulnerable, and it hit him right in the heart.

He trusts you so much.

“I love you too. I love you so much.” you whisper against his forehead, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin you can find. His hair tickles your cheeks, brushing against your skin like individual caresses, like each and every part of his body loves and adores you.

Like every atom of him yearns for you.

“Let’s go get some Premo ice cream.” he sniffles, leaning into your touch as you wipe away his tears.

“Alright.” you smile affectionately, pulling the two of you up from your crumpled positions on the floor, “Our ride is probably going to arrive soon anyways.”

Idia helps you pack all of the snacks into your bag, but not before giving the journal one last hug when your back is turned.

He’s so lucky. It’s not just that letter that shows it either, he thinks. It’s the shiny ramune bottles and his favorite chips, it’s the candy you picked up and the fruit salad full of sweet, bright colored fruits. It’s the way you kissed his sweaty palms and applied sunscreen to his arms, it's the way you respected that he didn’t want his legs being touched, it’s the way you wrote down all of the things he knows you would have done anyway because you’re you and you’re wonderful.

He zips up the bag for you and slings it over his shoulder, shielding it with his body when you try to grab it. You roll your eyes playfully, getting the message. You go to open his bedroom door and Idia is right behind you, stomach twisting in anticipation. There’s a fair share of nerves, sure, but you’re right in front of him, shielding him like you always have, and when the hallway comes into view he lets you grab his hand and pull him outside.

The pair of you walk down the hallway and outside the building together, hand in hand. You only run into a few students, all of which are too occupied with their own things to gawk at Idia. It makes him feel less nervous and makes you feel better for him.

Sure enough, your ride arrives a little while after you reach the meetup spot, and before he knows it, he’s off on a beach episode adventure with you.

He hopes you won’t change your mind, and that it won’t be the last one you have.

But when he looks over at you and sees you already looking at him with a look that screams love, love, love, he knows for sure there will be more days like this one in his future.

[clairoscharm]

falling fast, falling hard

pairing : ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings : blurb? drabble? idek… highschool au, hallway crush! reader, uhmmmm nothing much lol

credits : to pinterest for all the pictures & @anitalenia

✉️ : fun fact, this was inspired by a story from my moots back then! i write this thinking of them. yk who you are, ditto!

DAILY CLICK

DON’T BUY TLOU

WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE

It was only Monday, and Ellie was already having one of those mornings that felt like a personal attack from the universe. She stormed through the school’s front doors, the rubber soles of her sneakers squeaking loudly on the polished floor, drawing a few amused glances from nearby students. Ignoring them, she focused on her target: her locker.

She wrenched it open with more force than necessary, muttering curses under her breath as she grabbed her chemistry books. They’d been sitting there since last week—a deliberate decision to avoid carrying extra weight in her already overloaded backpack. Brilliant plan, Ellie. Now she was out of time and scrambling.

Staying up until 2 a.m. playing the new Nintendo game Joel had bought her for her birthday had been pure bliss last night. The adrenaline, the triumph of leveling up—it had all felt worth it. Until now.

Now, every second felt like a reminder of her own terrible life choices. She shoved the books into her bag, slammed the locker shut, and bolted toward the staircase, determined to make it to class before the bell but the clock ticking down to a certain tardiness.

That was when disaster struck.

Ellie rounded the corner and charged up the stairs, her mind too preoccupied with excuses for her teacher to notice you coming down in the opposite direction.

The collision was immediate and catastrophic. Ellie barely registered the impact before her grip slipped, her books and files flying out of her arms in a chaotic explosion.

She barely had time to react before her own foot slipped on a stray sheet of paper. With a startled yelp, Ellie lost her balance and went down, her back hitting the stairs as she slid a few steps before coming to a stop.

Pain radiated through her shoulder and hip as she groaned, staring at the mess of papers littering the stairwell like confetti.

"Fuck..." she muttered, her face burning with embarrassment as she tried to sit up, rubbing her sore shoulder.

"Shit! I’m so, so sorry!" a panicked voice exclaimed. Ellie looked up and froze.

Can this day get any worse? She thought bitterly.

Of course, it had to be you—her hallway crush. Or, let’s be real, her crush in general. Denying it was pointless, but she’d try anyway.

Ellie blinked and there you were, crouching a few steps above her, your wide eyes filled with concern. Her breath hitched for a moment.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Ellie groaned, her frustration now aimed at the universe itself. “Seriously?”

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry, but—wait, don’t move! Are you hurt?" your voice was laced with guilt as you crouched beside her, reaching out like you wanted to help up or give her space.

Ellie glanced at you, about to brush you off, when she noticed your hand frozen midair, hesitating. Your expression was so genuinely concerned that it softened her irritation just a little. "I’ll live," she muttered, finally sitting upright.

"Here—let me—uhh, get your stuff," you said quickly, darting to collect her scattered papers and textbook.

Ellie watched you as she stood up carefully, her irritation softening just a fraction as she took in the way you moved—quick but careful, your hair falling slightly into your face as you worked. There was something undeniably endearing about it.

“Thanks,” Ellie said grudgingly when you handed her the slightly crumpled stack.

You gave her a sheepish smile, your hand brushing hers for the briefest moment. “Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” Ellie said, her tone sharp but not entirely serious, her lips twitching despite herself.

“Could’ve avoided all this.”

You let out a nervous laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Fair. But maybe you shouldn’t sprint up the stairs like it’s the Olympics.”

Ellie’s reluctant smile broke through. “Touché.”

She adjusted her bag, glancing down at the mess you’d managed to somewhat clean up. "Guess we’re both disasters," she said, her tone lighter now.

"Speak for yourself," you shot back with a grin, stepping back. “Try not to fall again, yeah?” you teased before walking away, leaving Ellie stunned.

Ellie blinked, caught off guard by the sudden surge of confidence in your voice. She opened her mouth to retort, but you were already turning to leave, your steps light and unbothered.

As Ellie stared after you, heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. "Try not to fall again," she muttered under her breath, a weak attempt to mimic your tone. "Yeah, right."

Falling on the ground? Sure, she’d work on that. But not falling for you? Too late for that.

That ship had sailed before she even hit the stairs.

© clairoscharm 2024