#(with a nice voice and a nice face and nice muscles and as if that wasn't enough he makes a kickass apple pie)

[raspberriesss]

Thinking about Simon loving back scratches.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

˚ ༘ ꕥ ⋆｡˚

You could never simply just, go to sleep around Simon. No, of course, he wanted you to scratch his back. The first time this happened you thought it was almost amusing, hearing his faint groans as your fingernails scratched down his scarred skin. Soon it became routine, him rolling onto his stomach as you settled into bed, silently asking for you.

•·················•·················••·················•·················••···············•

It was just another regular night, you and Simon had been lounging on the couch watching TV. A yawn escapes your lips, giving a final squeeze to his hand before standing up from the couch. He knew what that meant, you were tired.

“M’gonna finish this episode, love,” he said softly to you as you walked out of the living room, an “ok,” leaving your lips in reply as you walked to your shared bedroom. You made your way to the bathroom, dragging a makeup wipe across your face to remove any lingering traces from your skin.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed your eyes, relishing the rare sensation since your lashes were usually coated in mascara. You dragged a damp washcloth across your face, the warm sensation soothing over your skin. Soft footsteps against the carpet could be heard as you rubbed moisturizer onto your face, hearing Simon plop down onto the bed.

Turning off the bathroom light, you headed back into the bedroom, rummaging through your dresser for some pajamas. Grabbing an oversized shirt, his shirt and a pair of shorts, you discarded your other set of clothes into the hamper.

��Nice view,” a gruff voice spoke from behind you as you slipped on the shorts. You huffed out a laugh at his words, slipping on the t-shirt before making your way over to sit down on the other side of the bed. “Y’look good in this,” he said quietly, his calloused hand gripping lightly on the edge of the t-shirt.

“Thanks, Si,” you replied, watching as he released the fabric and rolled over onto his stomach with a faint groan. Your eyes narrowed slightly at the sight, amused at his actions. “That's how you’re sleeping?” You questioned teasingly, seeing his head turn to the side to look at you. “Back’s itching, could you scratch it a bit?” He said, his voice slightly muffled from the sheets.

Amused by his words you huffed out a laugh; it was time. You moved over, sitting down on your knees as your hand began to scratch slowly along his shoulders. You could see how his muscles tensed under your touch, hearing him let out a faint groan.

“Seems like I do this every night now,” you said softly, nails continuing to scratch slowly along his skin. “Yeah? S’nothing wrong with that,” he murmured out quietly, eyes fluttering closed. “You can always just ask, y’know, doesn’t bother me,” you said quietly.

He hummed in response before murmuring out quietly, “Your hands feel good, so soft.” Your hand moved lower, scratching down his spine gently. You smiled softly at his words, your other hand going up to run through his short blond hair, fingers playing with the strands by the base of his neck. “Is-“ you were cut off by a loud snore erupting from his throat, seems like you put him to sleep.

•·················•·················••·················•·················••···············•

Please feel free to leave requests! : ̗̀➛ 💌

[cheollipop]

Ok hear me out - soft/pleasure dom!san 👀 like body worship, praise, the whole 9 yards. It just feels like he’d be so natural at it like if it’s his partners first time he’d be so sweet and checking in and all the things to make sure his love is comfortable and feeling good y’know?

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 0.72k

tags: smut, fluff, reader's first time

rating: mature

⁂ A/N: yes anon. god you're so right. 

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

“Bare with me,” San whispered at the uncomfortable shift of your hips beneath him, his voice taut as he finally settled within you, your walls enclosed around his throbbing length and squeezing until his eyes threatened to roll back. 

Suppressing a groan, he peered back at your grimacing features, his thumb delicately running over your cheekbone. “Is it too much?”

You looked up at him — a sheen of sweat coating his forehead and clutching a few strands of his hair, eyes seemingly struggling to remain open as he basked in your overwhelming warmth. You watched the worry clinging to San’s expression melting away upon seeing your head shake as a response.

“Just–” you cut yourself off to shift your hips once again, eyebrows furrowing while you attempted to get comfortable. “Don’t move just yet.”

San smiled, leaning down to peck your lips. “Tell me when.”

Warm, you thought, while running your palms over San’s shoulders and down his spine to rest around his waist. Warm, as his lips met yours in a tender kiss, like two dancers sashaying to an unuttered melody. His arms enveloped your body, fingers wrapping around your nape with the other hand at your waist, mouth parting to deepen the kiss and seek more of your taste. 

Squeezing around San’s cock, you felt the vibration of his groan on your lips, cursing as he pulled himself away from you. Feline eyes took you in from above, lust dripping off his gaze as rough palms ran over your body — lightly gripping your breasts and trapping your nipple between this pointer and middle fingers before dragging them down to your core, thumb pressing into your clit until your hips jumped into his touch. He moved the two fingers down to either side of his cock, locking them around the base to graze your pussy, stretched nice and wide around him.

“So good for me,” desperation flooded his tone, eyes locked at the dizzying sight of your cunt swallowing his cock whole. 

“San,” you almost purred, voice breaking when San’s hips bucked into you.

“Fuck— ‘m sorry, sorry, jagi. Shit, I– you feel so fucking good.” 

You watched as he stumbled over his words, clearly flustered from the mere utterance of his name. You almost felt bad for him, his cock throbbing uncontrollably within you, sitting thick and heavy between your walls when he so clearly wanted nothing more than to fuck you full of his cum. And yet he remained torturously still, gaze attentive to all minute changes in your expression, determined to provide yet another memorable ‘first’ for his most beloved. A woman who’d entrapped his yearning heart for so long, now finally within his arms, taking his cock so well; San almost pinched himself. He wanted you all to himself. So full of him you’d forget what it felt like to live without his touch. He wished nothing more than to claim all your ‘firsts’, to take you in any way you’d let him, until your body shivered beneath his touch yet continued to seek it out, until you were all out of orgasms, until you knew nothing but the recitation of his name.

He sensed your thighs tensing around him, dragging him out of his daydreams, and he slowly descended over you until your chests laid flush. He stared at you for a moment before speaking, “Did I hurt you?”

Guilt-riddled features studied yours, gentle fingers digging into the muscles at your hips. Except your face was lax, lips parted, chapped and coated in spit where you continuously nibbled on the skin, slightly shivering under his warm touch. You shook your head, wildfires igniting under your skin where his nipples rubbed against yours. San’s fingers halted their ministrations when your thighs tightened around his hips and pulled, a breathy moan drawn out of you at the heavenly drag of San’s cock, shoved deep inside your cunt.

“I’m ready, Sannie,” you panted, hands clasped tightly around his biceps and pleading eyes begging him to move.

“Baby, wait– are you sure? Let’s take it slow—”

“We’ll take it slow, just move. Please, San.” Cupping his jaw, you ran your thumb over San’s heated cheek, studying the fleet shift in his expression — eyes darkening, jaw locking tight beneath your palm, and the telltale throb between your legs — at the muttered words that followed, “make me yours.”

[star2fishmeg]

domestic things w luke 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 like preparing dinner together, doing skincares, movie nightsss 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 im crying i need it

18:30, dinner:

"Luke! Who's watching the stove?" you complain, cutting vegetables while he nuzzles into your neck, peppering the skin with kisses and sliding his hands underneath your shirt.

"It's fine, angel. It's under control," he mutters, lips moving against your column and placing a wet kiss before standing straight and taking out two plates from the cabinet above, "do you not like my attention?"

He places the plates next to the stove, checking the pasta for real just so he can say he did. Both of you are capable of making a better meal, but it's just the two of you and neither has the energy to go through the prep so pasta and vegetables were settled on, however, you think he only settled on it so you can watch a movie faster. Plus, Luke wasn't really helping, his idea of being your sous-chef involves neck kisses, wandering hands and FaceTiming his friends.

"No, not when the stove's on and I have a knife in my hand." You roll your eyes playfully, finishing the last broccoli and brushing the diced veg to the end of the cutting board. "But any other time, you can be okay."

"So mean to me." He pouts, lowering the temperature on the hob. He slides back over to you, hands settling on your hips and lips planting chaste kisses on your cheek and neck once again. "How long's that veg gonna take?"

"Five minutes," you simply say, pouring the veg into a saucepan, turning the heat up and letting it boil. You spin around, Luke's hands still on you and he smiles. "Hi."

"Hi, baby," he mutters, his thumbs soothing over your hips. He's too cute when he smiles at you like that, soft, wide eyes with loose curls, licking his lips slightly, "wanna do this with you forever. Can I kiss you now?"

His eyes glimmer, hands sliding to your waist as he pulls you to his chest. You slide your hands up his chest, soothing over the muscles and you nod, closing your eyes until his lips gently slot with yours. He hums, arms winding around your middle as lips move against one another.

Abruptly, he pulls back, moving you to one side in a hurry and turning the hob down. Panic rushes over you, heart racing only to find your dinner had just boiled over. With a grin, you giggle when he huffs out a relieved breath before giggling with you.

20:00, skincare:

You always think he looks adorable when he sits on the toilet seat so you can reach his face, looking up at you with glossy eyes with his hair pushed back by one of your headbands. He's never had much of a skincare routine, and he doesn't have the time for anything extensive but then again, you don't believe a multi-step, multi-product routine is needed for some people.

You stand between his legs, your own hair pushed back by a headband too, a cleansing wipe in your hand while holding his jaw in the other.

"When will you do this by yourself?" you ask, endeared, wiping his face with the wipe. You don't mind doing it for him, it's rather sweet that he lets you do it in the first place.

"Never," his hands creep under your shirt, caressing along your waist, skin feeling dewy and clean, "feels nice when you do it. Why does my skin always look better when you look after me? S'like you have a magic touch."

You toss the wipe away, his hands never leaving your waist as you squeeze moisturiser into your hands, "Because you're sweaty all the time and it clogs your pores, baby. You need to clean them, less breakouts."

"Is it unattractive when I break out? Like, does it gross you out?" You can tell he's genuinely worried about it by the way his voice is quieter and how his eyes track your every move.

"Absolutely not, Lu," you rub and tap the cream onto his cheeks along to his nose, forehead and chin, "I still love you either way. It's just a pimple or two, nothin' deep. S'normal. Does it gross you out when I break out?"

"No..." he mumbles, seeing your point and letting go of you. He watches you turn to the mirror and wipe your own face, entranced by your lack of concern about your appearance when with him, stripped down to the bare yet he still thinks you're beautiful and you're comfortable enough for him to see every blemish. He thinks for a moment about how well he's proven that he loves you enough for you to feel safe with him.

It's not like you haven't noticed him staring from the corner of your eye, in all honesty, you think it's sweet how he sits in a trance, watching, learning, admiring.

"You want a pore strip, Snoops?" your voice catches him by surprise and he blankly blinks, watching you apply a pore strip over your nose.

"Will it prevent me from making out with you?"

"Nope, that's a facemask, this just goes over your nose." You smile, waving an unopened one in front of his face.

"Then put it on me, baby." He closes his eyes and waits, smiling when you dab his nose with a damp sponge and apply the strip, pressing firmly and kissing his forehead.

21:00, movie night:

You can't ever truly concentrate on a film, not while cuddled with Luke and especially not while watching in his bed. You're tucked under his arm, head resting on his chest with one leg over his lap, his hand caressing along your thigh while the other slides under the waistband of your shorts. He's still wearing your headband from earlier, curls pushed back off his face with a couple too short to hold and falling over his forehead. He looks cute, even cuter holding you to his body like you're his teddy bear.

He finds it hard to concentrate as well. Your hand soothing over his chest sets goosebumps running down his spine, the way your skin is touching and transferring heat only enticing him into shifting his gaze from the TV to your lips.

But if there's one thing that drives you up the wall when watching movies with him, is that Luke will talk his ass off through one if he's excited about it. Secretariat's his favourite movie, and you'd think if he loved it so much, he'd want to watch it again, but instead, he's giving you a running commentary and you can't hear a thing, and he's refusing to put subtitles on.

"Oh, I love this part!" he mumbles in excitement, eyes lighting up.

"You said that ten minutes ago..."

"Baby, no. I mean it this time, look!"

He acts like your eyes haven't left the screen, lips pulling into a grin. His excitement is endearing, and your heart warms seeing him into something other than hockey. He's so excited that his hand slides up your waist, hoisting you further up his body so your faces are almost level. You almost think he's going to continue watching, but you're miserably mistaken as he keeps chatting, explaining the backstory and inspiration for the film at the same time you're trying to listen.

In an exhale, your hand cups his cheek and you turn his face to look at you. Your gaze burns into his but you're not mad, it's an endeared and adoring gaze that shimmers under the glow of the TV.

"Shut up, Lu." You press your lips to his, fingers sliding into the back of his curls as mouths slowly and sensually move with each other, his hand on your thigh kneading at your skin and the other flat, gliding up your back, thumb rubbing your skin. He melts into you, humming at the high he gets when kissing you, stomach flipping as his desperation becomes obvious. With every second you disconnect for air, he dives back in for another languid and wet kiss, completely forgetting about the movie in the first place. You're all he's concentrating on now.

Animated divider belongs to @/cafekitsune

[saturnscafe]

I’m desperate to know about “big bad wolfs” first rut plz ill beg 🙏🏾

I’m here to please lol.

͙˚ ༘✶Big Bad Wolfs First Rut

Smut Below

He was avoiding you, he wasn’t responding to texts or calls. He wasn’t showing up for classes either. You were starting to think he just dipped and dropped out or something.

You stood at his door knocking before you heard rummaging behind the door. When he opened it he looked almost worn out. His face was a bit red, hair sticking to his forehead. No shirt on just bare in his boxers. “What are you doing here?” He asked his voice thick.

“I was worried about you” you said meekly.

His face softened realizing how he must have made you feel. “I’m sorry beautiful, I’m-“ he said exhaling loudly. “I’m in a rut and I don’t wanna hurt you” he admitted.

You remember learning about heats and ruts before, you knew he had to have been hurting.

“Let me help you” the words blurting out.

He cocked his head to the side, studying your face. “Y/n- I don’t think that’s” he started to say before you cut him off.

“I trust you, plus” you said before moving closer to him “I think it’ll be kinda hot” you said that smirk making him groan.

When you were finally inside he cupped your face staring into your eyes. “If at anytime you need to stop. Tell me got it?” He said sternly. You nodded and with that he leaned in kissing you hungrily. His hands gripped at your thighs and ass as his tongue prodded at your mouth.

He started walking you backwards body hitting against the couch you could feel a grin creep across his face. He swiftly turned your body bending you over it. Before you knew it he had your pants and panties off. His head pressed between your legs. His arms hooked around your legs pulling your body down on him. He had your cunt pressed so nicely against his mouth. His tongue lapped at your folds, groaning loudly.

His cock was peeking from his boxers dripping pre cum. His hips moved on their own moving upwards trying to create some friction. He was eating you out like a man in death row and you were his last meal. His tongue found its way into your sopping cunt, moving erratically. Your hands gripped at the gripped at the couch trying to keep yourself ground but to no avail. He was driving you closer and closer to your first orgasm cumming hard around his tongue. He licked you clean nipping at your inner thighs. He wanted to keep going. Wanted to draw another or two from you but he needed inside of you.

He stood up licking his lips as he rid himself of his boxers. His body pressed against you before kissing your shoulder. “I love you” he said against your ear before pushing into your warm cunt. The moans that left both of your mouths was almost pornographic. His big muscles arm wrapped around your waist before he started moving. He wanted to go slower for your sake but he couldn’t help himself. His hips snapped back in and out of you as his leaking tip kissed your cervix.

“Fuck- ah- y/n I love you. You’re my beautiful mate- can’t get enough-“ he groaned into your neck.

“God- you feel somehow even bigger” you moaned out.

You were already seeing stars another orgasm growing close. “Gonna cum again already? Seems like you wanted this just as much as I did” he smirked.

“Fuck who wouldn’t want- want their hot mate to fuck them like this-“ you babbled but those words. You calling him your mate. It almost made him cum then and there. Sure you guys have been dating and you call him your boyfriend but you’ve never used the word mate. It ignited something primal in him.

He growled against your skin “say that again” he demanded. His thrusts becoming faster, harder- deeper. Your mind almost went blank before he nipped at your neck, his hand finding its way to your face. He turned it making you look directly at him “say it.”

“My mate” you choked out. You swear his eyes almost went black at the sound. His grip around your waist tightened, the couch slightly moving from how he was pounding into you. “Yeah I’m your mate. No one else can have you. Your mine. Mine.” He kept repeating like it was the only word he knew. His hand left your face bringing it down to your ass before smacking it hard. You moaned loudly at the slight sting. His nails gripped into your hips as he let out a long low groan.

“Who do you belong to? Huh.” He growled.

“You! Only you!” You almost screamed your orgasms ready to flow over.

“That’s right. Me. No one else’s. Me and only me.”

He pulled out before pushing into you with a powerful thrust. Your orgasm toppling over you, it was intense making your body shake. “Gonna take my knot- fuck gonna give me a litter yeah? You want that? To be stuffed full of all of me-“ he was babbling at this point but you didn’t care.

“Yes- fuck yes please- please want all my mates pups” you said incoherently.

He let out a loud growl before sinking his teeth deep into your shoulder. He pulled out one last time before pushing back in hard. You felt his knot push in with almost ease at this point stuffing you full. You could feel him twitching inside you as his hot cum painted your walls.

He was panting, you were panting. No one spoke for a few moments before he kissed your back softly. “I love you, you know that right?” He said sweetly.

“And I love you” you responded.

The rest of the night was filled- or you were. With him fucking you in every room of his apartment on any surface that he could. You gave him a run for his money though, being just as greedy for him as he was for you.

[crushpunky]

how joe and college!reader met

masterlist

i know joe’s college career is a little “unusual” with transfer portal, graduating early, etc, but for simplicity im just gonna say he spent two years at OSU and two at LSU before graduating. there’s some star wars talk/reference in here but nothing too deep lol

Y/n tapped the top of her pen against her chin, mindlessly stirring her coffee as she waited for the rest of her classmates to shuffle in. Junior year at LSU was off to a bold start with Statistics in Economics bright and early at 9 am.

“Um, is this seat taken?” A voice pulled y/n out of her thoughts. She looked up and was greeted by a rather tall young man with a head of blonde hair and a kind smile. She hadn’t remembered ever seeing him around campus, but something about him seemed strangely familiar.

“No, you’re good.” Y/n said, flashing him a quick smile as he took his seat. Y/n watched as he shuffled through his LSU branded backpack and began to pull out his laptop, freezing part of the way through.

“This is Statistics in Economics, right?” The boy turned to y/n, a worried expression on his face.

“Yes it is.” Y/n giggled as the boy let out an exaggerated sigh before putting his laptop down on the table in front of them..

“Sorry, I just… I’m a transfer and am still getting used to everything.” The boy chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. Y/n nodded, gnawing on her lip as she watched his leg bounce underneath the table.

“Where did you transfer from?” Y/n asked, hoping a bit of small talk would help to soothe her classmates' obvious nervousness.

“Ohio State,” the boy nodded. “It’s in… Ohio, obviously.”

“Yeah?” Y/n teased. “Why LSU?”

“Well… I play football.” The boy said, his voice low, as if the revelation was some sort of secret. Y/n nodded, her expression neutral. The boy was thankful, gathering within the short time he’d been at LSU that people tended to freak out about football… well most people.

“Hmm.” Y/n said simply, the familiarity she had felt earlier maybe starting to clear up. She had remembered something about a new quarterback transferring from OSU, what was his name? Jack? Jim? Honestly, she didn’t follow football close enough to remember.

“I’m Joe, by the way. Probably should introduce myself.” The boy laughed. Ah, Joe, that was it.

“Y/n.” Y/n responded, smiling simply. “It’s nice to meet you, Joe.”

“It’s nice to meet you, y/n.” Joe responded, returning her smile as his eyes flicked over her before landing on the laptop that sat closed in front of her. Immediately, he noticed the large Star Wars sticker that adorned the case.

“You a big Star Wars fan?” Joe cleared his throat, pointing to the R2-D2 on her laptop. She followed his gaze, looking down at it before looking back at him with a nervous chuckle.

“Uh, yeah. I was practically raised on the movies.” Y/n said as she took a sip of her coffee, her fingers tracing lightly along the edge of the sticker as she waited for the inevitable teasing that was about to come from the athlete.

“Same,” Joe scooted his chair further underneath the table, turning to face her as he propped his forearms onto the table. “I think I can quote the entirety of Empire Strikes Back.”

“Really?” Y/n quirked a brow. “I mean I’m more of a Return of the Jedi girl, but I understand.”

“So you like the Ewoks?” Joe teased, leaning in with an exaggerated scoff that caused a giggle to escape y/n’s lips.

“Oh c’mon, they’re cute! Don’t be heartless.” Y/n shook her head, looking away from Joe’s intense gaze.

“I’m not heartless! I like ‘cute’ things, just not those bears.” Joe shrugged before slumping back in his chair, his legs spread wide in front of him as he crossed his arms across his chest. The hem of his shorts rode up his legs, revealing the tanned skin of his well toned thighs. His t-shirt shifted as he crossed his arms, the muscles of his arms on proud display. His teasing smile was— well, she sure wasn’t immune to the boy's charm, especially his Star Wars knowledge.

“What kind of ‘cute’ things do you like, hmm? I can’t imagine big bad football player Joe cuddling up with a stuffed Yoda.” Y/n said, turning her chair to face him.

“How’d you know I have a stuffed Yoda?” Joe furrowed his brows, his expression quickly turning serious before cracking into a smile that made y/n roll her eyes.

“In all seriousness,” Joe said, scooting closer to y/n as he spoke, her crossed legs now resting between his spread legs. “I like… cats, I’m a big cat guy.”

“Well, I guess those are pretty cute.” Y/n shrugged.

“What about you? What do you like?” Joe asked, propping his elbow up on the table and resting his head. Y/n bit her lip for a second, thinking about her response as her eyes trailed over to her drink sitting on her desk.

“I like watching movies, going on walks, coffee from cute little cafes.” Y/n said simply. As she spoke, it was almost like she’d known Joe for years, the conversation flowing smoothly as the two of them sat comfortably next to each other.

“Well, which cute little cafes do you recommend? Y’know, maybe for someone new to the area or something.” Joe teased, his eyes watching intently as y/n talked, his ears holding on every word she said.

“Well, I would probably recommend Java Joe’s.” Y/n grinned.

“Yeah, I might have to try that out,” Joe sighed, turning to rest his face in his hand “These 9 ams are gonna be the death of me I can feel it.”

“Agreed.” Y/n nodded, watching as Joe slowly began to peek through his fingers at her, causing her to laugh as her cheeks began to warm.

“Well, hopefully I’ll see you there and we can continue our Star Wars discussion, y/n.” Joe said, his attention remaining on her.

“Yeah, I’d like that, Joe.” Y/n smiled, her eyes only leaving him when the lights dimmed, signalling the start of class.

[kat-thelorekid]

I think I can make a chain out of this >:]

What do you think of fan works? (Such as fanfiction, fanart, etc.)

Haven’t read any murder drones fanfiction (yet) but the Cyn fanart Pinterest recommends to me is always so pretty!!!!

What do you think of your in-source family/friends? (A brother, a best friend, etc. that is close to who you were/are!)

I think N is a nice person and I’d like to say sorry to Tessa :(

What does fandom get right and/or wrong? (Such as gender or pronoun headcanons, or portrayals in fanfiction and fanart!)

About to try a Mango in a few days (time of writing this: 19th January 2025, 11:19 AM) and then I can comment on the “Cyn likes Mangoes” headcanon

Do you like the name you got in source, or do you go by a different one?

I go by Kat irl and online but my friends use Kat and Cyn interchangeably and it makes me happy

Do you own any merch from your source? If not, would you like to?

I saw someone make Solver figdet spinners on youtube, don’t think they’re purchaseable though :(

But if I acquire black beads then I could make a Kandi bracelet!! I’d love to have merch of myself :]

What do you remember from your past in-source, and does it align with canon media?

I don’t have any memories (besides those seem to be more common for fictionkins in systems which I’m not so I’m not counting on gaining any)

Do you dislike your source? Does anything in it bother you? (Such as the portrayal of a friend!)

Nope, nothing bothers me!! Cynessa captures my chaotic energy really well and if I was evil in this reality I’d probably be her even more

What does canon media get right and/or wrong about you? (Or, how different are you from canon?)

In my mental image of myself my face is completely a screen and I have extended metal fingers on my left hand, a circuit pattern on my right and I have a cursor attached to some wires on my back. My friend (the same one who helped me edit fullscreen-faced me on ibispaint) offered to craft my cursor with me!!!

But canon absolutely gets the speaking style and standing right. My parents in this reality had to teach me to stand correctly until I was like 7 so I wouldn’t damage my muscles in my feet permanently lol

What did you look like?

I described myself in the previous question :]

I’d like to mention, though, that (— googles and looks at my canon hair—) I wore it a little more openly.

How did you find out you were/are this/these character/s?

Thought I might be digitalkin, realized that speaking like cyn was comfortable and felt right, worried that I was subconsciously copying my screen face from murder drones in a way (and my cursor from the things the disassembly drones had on their back) and then when I asked my friend if it was okay for me to talk in a certain way they essentially said “so you’re talking like cyn now?” and we figured it out from there

Is there anything canon never showed that you remember happening?

Nope, no memories :(

Do you have any memories you visit a lot?

No memories (hoping-this-doesn’t-make-me-invalid-voice)

fictionkin & fictive ask game!!

/pt: fictionkin & fictive ask game!! end of pt/

i really want to explore my identities a bit more so i decided to make my own ask game! feel free to reblog, please send an ask to whoever you reblogged it from if you can, and enjoy!

this doesn’t follow an emoji/number system because i find those hard to keep track of. questions below!

What do you think of fan works? (Such as fanfiction, fanart, etc.)

What do you think of your in-source family/friends? (A brother, a best friend, etc. that is close to who you were/are!)

What does fandom get right and/or wrong? (Such as gender or pronoun headcanons, or portrayals in fanfiction and fanart!)

Do you like the name you got in source, or do you go by a different one?

Do you own any merch from your source? If not, would you like to?

What do you remember from your past in-source, and does it align with canon media?

Do you dislike your source? Does anything in it bother you? (Such as the portrayal of a friend!)

What does canon media get right and/or wrong about you? (Or, how different are you from canon?)

What did you look like?

How did you find out you were/are this/these character/s?

Is there anything canon never showed that you remember happening?

Do you have any memories you visit a lot?

[joemama-2]

wc: 1098

“Hey,” you hear from beside you. Your head swivels to your left, immediately spotting the bright grin the pink-haired man sports beside you. Head tilted slightly and leaning against the bar top by his forearm. You spare a brief glance at it, noticing the veins that run up along his flesh, the hint of muscles that peek out from beneath his white shirt. “You all by yourself?” He asks in a friendly tone, getting himself comfortable in the seat next to you.

On instinct, you want to decline. However, it’s a Saturday night, you’re at a bar, a little tipsy…so where’s the fun in that? “Maybe.”

He chuckles, his eyes fixated on your features. Almost too fixated, like he’s actively forcing himself not to look anywhere else. (The way your ass perks out from the way you’re sitting; that dress doing nothing to hide it) “Maybe. Does that mean I can stay?”

“Depends.” You swivel the remnants left of your drink in your glass.

“On?”

“If you make it worth my while.”

His eyebrows raise slightly, but his grin widens, revealing a dimple that only adds to the charm of his boyish features. His honey eyes exhibiting a tiny gleam from beneath the dimmed lighting. “Guess I better start working for it, then.” He straightens, gesturing to the bartender with a casual wave. “Another for me, and…” He pauses, tilting his head toward your glass. “Whatever the pretty woman here is drinking.”

The bartender nods, already turning to prepare your order, and Yuji swivels his body to face you fully, resting his elbow on the bar. “Alright,” he says, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the countertop. “What does ‘worth your while’ mean, exactly? Drinks, conversation, bad pick-up lines?”

You hum thoughtfully, pretending to mull it over. “Well, you’re off to a decent start. But I don’t think a drink’s going to cut it.”

“Oh, I see.” He leans in just slightly, enough that you catch the faint scent of his cologne—something clean and fresh, like citrus with a hint of spice. You feel a familiar warmth pool in your gut, having to hold your body back from instinctively leaning in. “You’re the type who needs to be impressed. Alright, fair enough. Let’s skip the small talk, then.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

He grins, a mischievous sparkle lighting up his eyes. “Well, I could tell you I saved a cat from a tree once, but that’d be too cliché, right? Or that I know how to make a killer pancake from scratch.”

Your lips twitch as you try to stifle a laugh. His humor feels enticing and intimate. “And you think pancakes are impressive?”

“Only when you’re craving them,” he says, his voice dropping just enough to suggest he’s enjoying this far too much. “And trust me, I make the best pancakes.”

The drink arrives in front of you, and you take a slow sip, letting his words linger. “Alright, pancake master,” you say finally, setting your glass down. “Consider me intrigued. But I’ll warn you now—flattery’s not going to work on me.”

“Oh, I’m not flattering you.” He smiles, leaning back with an easy confidence that feels entirely unforced. “I’m just stating facts. But if you’re intrigued…” He shrugs lightly, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of determination. “I must be doing something right.”

“Or I’m just being nice and humoring you,” you add on, lifting the glass to your pink lips. His gaze is laser focused on the action, watching you tilt your head back and shift your eyes closed. Seeing your throat bob up once and then back down as you consume the burning liquid. Darting his tongue out to run across his lower lip, clearing his throat subtly and shifting in his seat.

His awkwardness is cute, you think to yourself.

“That’s fine too. I don’t mind.” He ends up saying, resting his cheek against his palm and ignoring the heat that crawls up his neck.

For some reason now, you’re looking at him in a different light. His cologne is pulling you more in by the second, his casual, confident demeanor that’s not too cocky, his spiky hair that makes you want to run your fingers through it, and the way his hand is itching closer to yours. He’s wearing a thin, gold chain around his neck that coincidentally houses a small charm of your first initial.

Huh.

“What’s your name, pretty?” He asks, voice tilting in a curious manner.

You find yourself instantly obeying, telling him your name. The alcohol you’ve consumed is making your skin feel flushed, or maybe it’s the way his smile grows more genuine, his thick fingers gently running over your smaller ones. Weaving them together before feeling across your rigid knuckles. “You know, that happens to be my favorite word.”

“What is?” Your head tilts, turning your hand the other way so he could massage the lines of your palm.

“Your name.”

The laugh that falls from your lips is automatic. “Cheesy.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with cheesy?”

Pulling your hand away, you stand up from your barstool. Overestimating yourself because as soon as your feet hit the hard floor, you’re feeling your body sway backwards. The man works quickly, faster than you could react. Strong arm wrapping around your waist, keeping you tethered to his chest. He looks down at you, eyes flashing with concern.

You’re meeting his stare, the intoxicating scent of his feels more invading than before. But you’re welcoming it this time, head tilting up to nose at the side of his neck. All the while he’s silently bending his head down so you could get a better sniff, smiling to himself with the tip of your nose pokes at a sensitive spot.

After a couple seconds, your arms wrap around his neck. “God, I told you not to wear this. You know what it does to me.”

He laughs in your ear, pulling his other arm around your waist. “It’s not my fault, you know I love Sauvage.” You grumble as he leads you away from the bar, over to a booth. “So, you lost.”

“Shut up.”

He pulls you down to his lap, tapping lightly at your ass then squeezing, now taking the time to admire your assets shamelessly. “What? It’s true.”

“You almost lost. I saw it in your eyes.” You tell him, lips pulling down into a frown.

He leans forward slightly and places a quick kiss to them. “You know I can’t help it. Your ass is a siren’s call to me. Can I bite—”

“No.”

[omiishii]

megumi x f!reader — one bed trope

warming: smut , my grammar lol

words: 2,500+

were utterly exhausted. Every bone in your body screamed for a shower and a nice fluffy hotel bed with a million pillows. Unfortunately, the motel was dingy and old with its dated 90s Japanese decor. The sound of the overhead lights buzzing made the muscles in your face twitch. Everything was washed in a yellow faded light casting shadows warily down the walkway.

‘Ugh, my sock is soggy I think…’

Body sore, blood caking the side of your face as well as your knee (conveniently hidden by jujutsu glamor), and your hair in disarray– You shuffled your feet as you stood, glancing over at your far more put-together, attractive mission companion.

You were on a Grade 1 mission with Mr. Perfect himself, Megumi Fushiguro. At least that's what you thought of him. He was so enormously talented– in ways you’d never be. Ugh, it pissed you off.

“A room for two,” Megumi muttered to the front desk lady; A sweet older woman with thick Coke bottle glasses.

“Oh, what a lovely couple,” she muttered quietly. Her voice was reedy and clipped. She hummed as she slowly moved to the key wall mumbling about romance and sweet nothings.

“We aren't …”

A slight blush dusted your cheeks as you tuned him out. He continued sputtering to the motel attendee for many reasons and all you could think about was being back home, done with this mission.

One is your current state… and jujutsu status. Megumi was of the honorable Zen’in clan while you were a lowly outsider of bastard lineage. Though Megumi wasn't one for the clan's caste system he still had this air about him. His spotless appearance spoke volumes about the power gap between you both.

He was cool, calm and collected. Everything a jujutsu sorcerer should be, but you struggled to wake up early enough to train and forgot to take your medication regularly. A classic girl failure.

You sighed looking up at his cut jaw and dark silk-like tresses.

And two… you were wholly in love with him.

…

With the key in hand, the two of you walked down the sidewalk to room 3C. The clicking of your shoes echoes in the night. The two of you in simple silence. Till someone broke it and surprisingly it wasn't you. “I think you should take less risks on missions. It's not worth a small rank like this. You get too close and leave your left side wide open.”

His comment sounded guarded, cautious even as he unlocked the motel door

“Who asked?” You ground out, embarrassment lacing every inch of your body. God this was so stupid. The one time you go on a mission with Mr. Perfect, he reads you for filth.

Stomping inside you chunk your backpack against the wall.

“At least be a little respectful,” he muttered.

“Just shut it, Megumi.” you flipped him the bird as you rushed into the bathroom. “ I call dibs on the first shower.”

With that, you slammed the small bathroom door before letting out a massive groan.

“I'm such a bitch…”

…

The shower did in fact heal you just a little bit. You felt somewhat human afterward, a bit nicer too.

“Figure I should apologize" You mutter to yourself sheepishly with a towel in tow.

“Hey Megumi” You call observing the dingy feeling of the room. Its lights overhead feel distant and faded. There was a chair, a small box television, and one…one bed. “Wait…”

Wait, why was there…

“..Only one bed?!” Eyes bugging out of their sockets as blood rushes to your face, practically shouting it.

“Hey, quiet it down.”

Words fell from your mouth, “Don’t silence me, you slut!’

Your heart raced as you realized the implications of sharing a bed with Megumi. Thoughts of intimacy and vulnerability flooded your mind aka, being naked wrapped in pure ecstasy. It contradicts the frustration and resentment you had been feeling towards him just moments ago. Hot and cold create a whirlwind of feelings.

Suddenly images of you beside him attack your brain, as well as beneath… Instantly flustered you tossing the towel at his face.

He grunts feeling it smack his head, “It's not my fault. I told her we weren't married.” He tosses it back, “Besides I’m sleeping on the floor.”

It knocked the wind out of your sails and honestly, you didn't expect anything less “Oh…”

…..

The rest of the night you felt a bit awkward thanks to you and your big mouth. Just leave it to you to be reactive and look so totally and utterly uncool in front of your senior. You cringed at the thought of what kind of report he might write… or worse blab to Gojo– you’d never hear the end of it.

After a quick fast food run the two of you settle in for the night. Each kept to the corners of the room, not looking at the other for too long.

True to Megumi’s words, he grabbed a pillow and a scratchy blanket and started prepping his cot. Shame and guilt washed over you. The man had your back today when it counted and here you were making him sleep on the crusty floor. You just felt… awkward as you pulled back the covers and a bit ungrateful.

“Oh gross,” he whined quietly.

“What now?”

“Foreign stain…blood or shit… can't tell which.”

You look at the unfortunate stain with a grimace and with a heavy sigh you say, “Megumi…just share with me. I won't tell anyone if you don't.”

He gives you a solemn stare before he replies “Fine.” before tossing his pillow on the bed.

……

The two of you lay side by side coffin style– cumbersome and clinical on the small bed. You try your best not to touch him and give him plenty of space, suddenly aware of every inch you take up. Breathing becomes something you have to actively think about. Damn, of all the people to share a bed with…

The light turns out and all you hear is him shifting and turning on his side as you stare up at the ceiling. Heart pounding in your ears as your vision is enveloped in darkness. The mildew smell of the motel and the warmth of him that radiates through the thin sheet between you two make your head spin.

This just isn't fair. Would he laugh at you the next day? Would he think you’re weak?

Despite your best efforts, you can feel his skin almost ghost yours. Slowly you pull back rubbing your socks on the itchy sheets.

“Do you really hate me so much?” His voice suddenly booms in your ear despite his even tone.

“What?” head whipping sideways fast only to still see his back towards you— gray t-shirt straining over corded tense muscles.

“Do… you hate me?” he repeated, a bit slower. His body pivoting to face yours.

Side by side the two of you peer into each other's eyes– searching for something to hold on to. Two emotionally constipated people make for some uncomfortable, quiet tension.

You don't know what he's looking for in your gaze, but for you …you looked for anything real– a feeling, a micro expression. Would you be honest only for him to laugh at you or, would you forever be befuddled with tonight's mission and its aftermath. A stain just like the one on the floor. Blood or shit…

To your surprise, as you search his dark blue midnight-like irises you see nothing but a look you can't quite place.

“No.” You answer honestly, taking a leap of faith. Your blood is singing through your veins. “I always thought you'd hate me.”

It was his turn to search your gaze. His softens and you feel your heart tug. Each heartstring is being plucked gently.

“Never.” He said evenly— calculated but honest.

The way he looked at you made those heartstrings sing. His normally high-walled expression suddenly looked love-sick— all for you?

The blood in your head pounded. You couldn't believe this. What did he mean by this?

“Never?” You echoed back hoping he'd catch your drift.

All the years watching him train. All the years you saw him strive to be who he is today. Such adoration held in your heart you poured into your words. “You're just so perfect and I'm just so…”

His lips were on yours– soft and questioning. They hovered as he whispered. “Don't talk about yourself like that.”

You feel the damn break in that instant.

You don't know who kissed first this time but both of you were tangled in minutes. Arms and legs clinging to each other like you'd disappear in a blink of an eye. Both, kissing is so passionate, all tongue and teeth.

“Megumi.” You whimper feeling his hands pull you closer to his hard muscles – yours a stark contrast, all soft and supple.

‘Shit, he's built like a brick wall’ you sob with tears of joy mentally. Forever thankful for the old lady going on about the joys of marriage and one bed.

“Call me Fushiguro,” he says between each kiss.

“Fushiguro.” You mumble against his lips as you deepen a kiss.

His leg slid between your thighs causing your breath to hitch. His nimble fingers slide along the edge of your shirt. He drew little patterns near your hip bone, making you squirm with need. ‘Damn he's good.’ you weren't a virgin by any means but the way he touched you made you feel like a live wire sparked under your skin.

Copying his movements, you danced your hands under his shirt. They twirled and tip-toed up his spin, making him shutter. You wanted him so badly you could taste it.

But surely that wasn't the case for him… the idea of Megumi wanting you desperately seemed out of the realm of possibility.

When his clothes cock ground on your covered center, however, a groan tore through your lips. Blush adored your face.

‘ God if you are real, thank you.’ you thought feeling his abs under the pads of your fingers. His muscles twitched and spasmed under your touch.

Two touch-starved lovers caressed each other till they were a moaning mess in the dark.

You don't remember how your clothes ended off, and on the floor, but soon the two of you were naked. Wrapped in each other's arms, praying for more.

“I want you so bad.’ his voice rumbling in his chest. The deep richness of his voice makes you wet and weak. “Every day I have to see you. And every day I'd have to think about how I couldn't have you. He tweaks your nipple after that statement. The sensation of leaving goosebumps on your arms and neck. You suddenly felt parched for something more. Hunger took over you as you felt him cup your tits.

Grinding down on his pretty pink, hard member, slick dripped from your ripe cunt. Wanting and needing more he did the same.

“I can't keep waiting.” your breath came out of your pants. “I need your cock so bad."

His face turned red, and with a playful frown, he batted your thigh feeling a tad bit embarrassed. You couldn't help but laugh. The sound rang like a clear bell, music to Megumi’s ears. It was one of his favorite things about you, well…and your boobs.

“I don't have a condom.“ he said gruffly, disappointed with the realization.

Matter of factly you contested, “I don't mind. I got an IUD.”

He hung his head and a hiss left his lips. “Shit don't say shit like that. It's too tempting.” his cock twitches against your soft leg.

“Oh?” you bit your lip. You tried to feel bad. You really did, but as your hand slid down and grabbed his throbbing shaft a whimper escaped his lips and you wanted nothing more than to tease him. “I could give you a pussy job.”

“God damn it. “ he breathed. Though his face seemed to be neutral, he quickly sat up lining his weeping dick over your swollen pearl “Yes.”

Gently, he slid it up and down. “Fuck.” you moaned, feeling the tip catch your needed clit. Moving your hips in slow circles you could feel all your wetness. Slick sounds and heaving panting could be heard through the motel room.

“You feel so good.” he breathed caging you– hands on either side of your head. His long body shields you from the world, just you and him.

His cock continued to slide through your pussy lips. Each pass-over makes you groan and moan. Something deep in your cunt felt like a sudden itch that couldn't be scratched. It was driving you insane. The idea of him pounding into you making the bed creak and groan taunted you. Oh, to have him fill you with his cum– to be dripping pathetically underneath him.

He must have had the same fantasy cause with each pass of his cocks reddened head over your greedy hole, he groaned louder and louder. Each thrust became more and more frantic before suddenly you felt the tip catch your entrance.

The two of you gasp for air. Hands cling tightly and the movement comes to a halt. His eyes look at your flushed face and tousled hair.

God, you couldn't do it anymore, “please…”

'What?’

“Please I need you so bad, it hurts.” you felt so pitiful as you begged laying in your wet mess.

Something in Fushiguro snapped, all caution thrown to the wind. “Fuck.”

Slowly he tilted his hips, the head of his cock easily piecing your core. His hard member rubbed through your slown cunt so slowly. His size wasn't too enormously big but the way he was curved hit that spot just right.

“Ah, Megumi, please,” you begged.

With that, he snapped his hips. The curve of his cock hits your g spot just right till you see stars. All you can do is cling to him as he rocks your body and world.

God, this felt so unreal. Every nerve in your body sang and all the chemicals dumped at once creating the feeling of pure love.

You peek up at him and see he's been watching you, his eyes filled with devotion. Cradling his face, your fingers trace his jaw, chin, and lips. The feeling of his cock bullying your core soon takes its toll. Your body feels like it's about to snap. All you can do is moan wildly. “Fugiguro…. I'm so close.”

“Good girl.” He grunts in your ear. That alone sends you flying off the edge. Stars explode, and it's like a cord snapping deliciously. You scream his name as his thrusts get more and more sloppy as your cunt milks him for all he's worth.

“Where?” he grunts.

“Inside, please…”

With that, he too is joining you in pure ecstasy. His member paints your insides with each finishing stroke. The last bit of your orgasm makes you sensitive and whiny.

“Thank you,” you mutter pathetically in his ear, as you hold him tight.

He smiles in the crook of your neck, “I should be thanking you.”

With a few more thrusts he pulls out his softening cock. It drips small its of cum over your thigh. You'd shower in the morning but for now, your fingers play with the edges of his dark tresses. “Fushiguro…”

Expectantly he looks at you, “Yeah?”

“I'm so glad there is only one bed.”

He chuckles but relief feels in his eyes. “Me too…”

[bowsnstrings]

Scorsese Baby Daddy!

Onyankopon x Black Coded Character ✌️🏾

Summary: Crashing out might be in the cards for tonight, but when things get hard, and hurtful words are said, how will Milana and Ony find a way to make things right?

Warning MDNI!: Fingering, Praise and dirty talk, Mentions of overstimulation, Mentions of food, Mentions of alcohol, Original character with original descriptions.

Masterlist:🍃

Word Count: 15.4k

Relationships were too complicated to even try at this point. Too secretive, too vulnerable, just too damn much. Especially with the way Ony had Milana so mad that she couldn’t even think, not after the argument the two of them got into first thing in the morning, while getting on campus of all places. A disaster already in the making, which only got worse as the day dragged on.

Things had actually started off so good, Milana’s alarm going off with its usual soft chime, breaking through the silence of her early morning. She groaned, reaching out from under her blanket to silence it. Her room was still dim, the early light creeping through the curtains, and she felt the pull of sleep that threatened to drag her back under. But she had a class to get to, and Ony would be picking her up soon.

With a heavy sigh, Milana pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes as she swung her legs off the bed and planted her feet on the cool floor. She stretched, feeling the remnants of sleep in her limbs, and glanced at the time on her phone: 8:15 AM. There was just enough time to get ready if she didn’t start lollygagging like she usually did, excited to see her man and enjoy his company before she had to actually work hard or study.

She shuffled over to the bathroom, brushing her teeth with an automatic rhythm, the minty freshness slowly waking her up. She splashed water on her face, using a warm washcloth to help her shake off the last bits of sleep, and then turned to face her reflection in the mirror. “Okay, Milana, let’s do this,” She muttered to herself, as if mentally preparing for battle. Knowing the situation going on under her bonnet, she definitely was about to go to war.

Nothing a nice hot shower couldn’t start to fix, shedding her sleep shirt and satin scarf to reveal her tangled curls that fell down her back. The warm steam swirling around as she jumped inside, closing the door behind her, letting out a small sigh as the heat enveloped her body. It felt good washing away the remnants of another night sleeping by herself, her phone calls with Ony being the only thing keeping her sane these days. Falling asleep in front of the screen while he was usually still up, counting money or bagging for customers while he soothed her with his voice.

She missed him, feeling like they’d been a little distant after being so close the first few weeks, nervous that their “honeymoon” stage might be fading away. The thought was only getting swept out of her mind under the cascading stream, feeling it relax her tense muscles. Milana closed her eyes for a moment, letting it all seep into her skin as she shampooed her hair, massaging herscalp with her fingertips, enjoying the way the lather slid through her thick hair. The scent of the shampoo, soft and filled with jasmine, lingered in the air as she rinsed it out.

After conditioning, she let the water flow through her hair, rinsing the curls into their natural pattern. Milana loved how her hair looked when it was wet—shiny and bouncy, but she knew that getting it just right was always a process. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a comfy towel, the coziness of it bringing solace to her skin. Her reflection in the mirror showed the early signs of a day well begun, a fresh glow from the shower and a peaceful, relaxed look in her eyes.

Milana set to work on her curls next, reaching for her wide-tooth comb, gently working through the damp strands. She’d learned long ago that combing it while wet, before it started to dry and frizz, was the key to avoiding knots. Reminding herself to go slow as she ran the comb through her hair, already she could tell it was going to be a good hair day. The curls felt soft and defined, just how she liked them. She applied a leave-in conditioner, massaging it through with care, and then followed up with a curl cream and gel, just enough to give some bounce without weighing her down.

Once she’d finished applying the products, she reached for a blow-dryer, using the diffuser attachment to slowly work her way through. Gently drying her hair while spending a few minutes in her own world until she was left with a halo of soft, bouncy curls, each one defined and full of life. That had Milana smiling at her reflection, loving how they looked today. Her hair had its own rhythm, and as much as she might complain about the time it took to style it, there was something satisfying about seeing the final result. It felt like a personal victory every time. With her hair, semi dry and perfectly styled, it was time to leave her vanity and start moving faster.

She knew Ony would be pulling up soon, clipping her hair up, and shedding her towel to lotion up. Smoothing a rich layer of body cream onto her arms, the soft, gourmand scent lingering in the air, mixing with the steam still present from her shower. Her hands glided over her skin, and she closed her eyes, letting the lotion soak in while her thoughts wandered off to her boyfriend again. Like that was anything new. But it had been a while since she’d truly stopped and reflected on how he made her feel.

In the quiet moments, when she was alone with her thoughts, she realized that he was a constant presence in her life. Not just physically, but in the way he made everything feel lighter. As she worked the cream into her thighs, she remembered the way he made even the smallest moments special. Ony had a way of being effortlessly kind, the type of person who always seemed to know exactly what you needed without you saying a word. He wasn’t loud or showy about it; instead, he was quietly, consistently present. Milana had always admired how he could make her feel safe, not just physically, but emotionally as well, showing it in both his words and actions.

She felt refreshed after putting some work in to look pretty, taking some time to actually smile at her reflection, brushing a hand over her arms to take in the smoothness. Admiring herself has never been easy, but after that shower session there was no way to bring her down. Opening her closet to scan the clothes hanging in front of her, excited as she jumped into a skirt and tied a knot into the back of her top to show off a little today. Brushing her lashes with her spoolie and swiping on her lip liner and gloss, just enough to feel awake and ready to face the day.

A glance at her phone told her it was already 10:40, meaning she was cutting it close, but that was nothing new. Milana nearly slipped on her hardwood floors as she sped to feed Oreo and grab her own breakfast. Shoving it down while standing in front of her microwave, happy that she at least remembered to pop her vitamins as well. With a familiar honk outside, she was scrambling to close the fridge and hop into her shoes as she snatched up her bag and textbooks, glasses nearly falling off in the process.

Ony picking her up for school was something new that she enjoyed him doing for her, smiling as he pulled up blasting her favorite songs in his “Batmobile” as she dubbed it. The nickname always made him laugh because of how dark his tints were and the expensive black car wrap that covered it. He hopped out and opened the door for her to get in, laying a sweet kiss to her cheek as she did, giggling softly, adjusting the books in her hands as she tried to stop cheesing so hard at his antics. He closed the door and got in himself to lay another kiss to her lips, grunting appreciatively when her hand cupped his cheek to hold him there.

He tried not to deepen it further, but Milana was just too intoxicating to him, his hands sneaking to wrap around her back. “Ah, Ony. We’ve got school to go to.” She reminded him as she pulled away, using her thumb to wipe her gloss off his lips.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, pulling her in for one more before he took off. As she buckled her seatbelt she observed him, noticing that his mood didn’t seem all the way there. His eyes fixed straight ahead as if he was lost in thought, a worse thought popping up in her head that maybe he was avoiding looking at her altogether.

“Hey,” Milana finally got him to glance at her as she tried to break the ice, her voice soft. “How are you?”

Ony gave a small humm, but it wasn’t a real answer. His movements stiff as he shrugged, the silence between them thick and uncomfortable. She frowned, trying to study him more, but he wasn’t giving her much to work with. “You okay?”

He nodded, but the gesture felt half-hearted. “Yeah,” he threw it out, replying flatly. His tone was so neutral that she was racking her brain trying to come up with any answers as to why today was so different. "Just tired."

She didn’t buy it, having known Ony long enough to tell when something was wrong, and this felt like something more than just a lack of sleep. She glanced at him, her heart sinking while her mood deflated a bit, but he truly hadn’t intended on being so cold today, wrapped up in his own emotions while trying to process how he felt.

Things with her were just moving much differently than he wanted, their relationship in a weird place for him in the aftermath of her argument with Sasha. He noticed how Milana had become more withdrawn, more reluctant to show affection in public, and now he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe it was because of him. It had started small, little things like her pulling away when he tried to hold her hand in front of their friends or her quickly changing the subject when their relationship came up. But today, it hit him all at once when he wasn’t even trying to think about it.

Them taking things slow wasn’t an issue for him, if it was better for her, then it was better for their relationship. His only concern was that he didn’t see an end to them being private, and now it just felt like they were borderline secretive. Not going out in public, no dates like they were doing when they first got together, or even acting like a couple when they were out. It was hard for him, having to be stuck inside to receive her affection, and all he wanted was to feel proud of what they had—not like they were sneaking around.

Still, he noticed that his silence wasn’t helping to make the ride any easier, tilting his head to turn towards her. It gave her an opportunity to appreciate how beautiful he looked, light filtering through the window, casting a warm glow on his dark skin, making him look even more striking. The way his jawline looked sharp from the side, making his taper appear pronounced, the subtle intensity in his eyes reminding her of his mood. Sometimes, she couldn’t help how she found him so attractive, even if it was at a bad time, it hit her in waves, like she was seeing him for the first time all over again.

The way she looked at him made him smile, finally cracking through to bring him into better spirits. “You ate? You want me to grab you something before class?” Ony asked, reaching a hand out for her to hold while he finished the drive. The redirect allowed her time to breathe, brushing off his earlier behavior by chalking it up to him being tired like he said.

“I ate at home today, Babe. Had some oatmeal and fruit.” Milana squeezed his hand reassuringly, giving him a sweet smile as she answered.

“Good, that’s good.” He nodded, and she caught herself staring at him for a moment longer than she meant to. Ony turned, catching her gaze. He raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, stopping at a red light and reaching a hand over to pick up one of her curls and inspect them with tenderness. “Did your professor hit you back?”

She rolled her eyes, thinking about how her teacher had sent back her essay saying that she incorrectly cited one of her quotes. They didn’t even double check it to see that she hadn’t, and then had the nerve to not respond to her email for days. “Not yet. I’m more worried about this other class though. The homework is only getting harder.” She smoothed out her hair, sighing at the annoying things she’d have to face today.

“Nah, you’ll make it,” Ony said confidently, shaking his head at how she acted like she couldn’t handle the homework, she was the only person he knew who’d look at a “B” and want to cry. “It’s just class, don’t stress so much, Mama.”

“Just class?” She echoed with a playful glare. “If I don’t pass that class I’ll be casting shame upon my whole family.” Milana dramatically threw herself to the side in a fit of mock despair, holding a hand to her forehead like she was liable to faint.

Ony tried to suppress his laughter, her antics getting the best of him, still making him smile through all the struggle he was facing inside. A reprieve from the tension giving them a second of normalcy again. “You’ll do great. Besides, I’ll be there to help you with everything. Y’know, in case you need tutoring later.” He turned to her with a wink, his mischievous smile telling her that studying isn’t what he really wanted to do.

Milana shot him a sideways glance, humming as if she wasn’t sure, as she replied. “Tutoring, huh? Well, how qualified are you?”

“Oh, I’m more than qualified,” Ony said, putting on his smoothest face, making her turn away before she’d burst into laughter. “In fact, I’m thinking of giving private lessons, just you and me. No distractions.” He reached a hand over, letting his fingertips skim up her bare leg to tickle her, she couldn’t help but to laugh now.

“I’ll pass on the tutoring, I already know someone for that. That way I can be free for some alone time.” Wiggling her eyebrows up and down in a way that had him rolling his eyes at her silliness, she finally felt at ease without the awkwardness filling the car.

“You for real got a tutor? Who?” His question was innocent enough, just genuinely wanting to make sure that she was covered in school. He knew how hard she worked in order to do good, and wouldn’t want her to feel like she was slipping up when her semester was almost over.

“Just a friend, my super smart one. We’re going to meet at a cafe or something so he can help me out.” Ony’s eyes narrowed just slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching with a mix of curiosity and something else, an unmistakable hint of jealousy.

It hadn’t meant to creep in the way it did, but the fact that she was so casual about going out with some random guy he'd never met instead of him made his feelings bubble back to the surface all over again. This time coming back tenfold. Maybe it was his mood, or his exasperation with their situation, but he just couldn’t bite the sarcastic jab that left his mouth.

“Damn, you going out with him like that? I don’t got to worry do I?” His voice laced with simmering aggravation that he just couldn’t seem to tame. He couldn’t help but be a bit fed up, tired of tiptoeing around the issue. He’d rather just bring it out and lay it all on the table, but he also didn’t really know the right words to say at the moment.

“What?” Milana responded immediately, brows scrunching in confusion at how he flipped so fast. The air thickened all at once, sucking up the joy that was once there and replaced it with unspoken frustration. “Okay, Ony. What’s up with you?” She finally asked, turning to him with a huff, arms crossing over her chest as she started to feel an attitude creep in. He couldn’t expect her to just be cool with how he’d been acting, especially when he was throwing random jabs.

“It’s nothing.” He tried to brush her off once again, but when he saw that she wasn’t going to let up about it he continued. “I just.. I don’t think this lowkey shit is gonna work for me.” Ony huffed, trying not to let his emotions take over, choosing his words carefully as he spoke. He knew this wasn’t about her friend, it was about them, and how much he wanted to change the way they were right now.

As cautious as he tried to be, it didn’t matter when his delivery still hurt, his tone much less understanding than it usually was. Besides, what did he mean by “lowkey shit”? What was he trying to say? Blindsided wasn’t the word, she felt like something was bothering him lately, but never expected Ony to be upset about that.

“Didn’t you agree when we said we’d keep it private? I thought that’s what you wanted too.” Milana pointed out as she spoke defensively. It wasn’t like she had anything to hide, she just felt like she had made the right choice. They were doing them, without anyone to criticize how they were doing it, what’s so wrong with that?

“I never said I wanted that, you did.” He tossed back, regretting the fact that he had even agreed to that in the first place. At this point, he was ready to forget it and just drop it. He felt misunderstood, simply wanting the respect of being treated like a partner in public.

“Ony, you’re literally getting all upset ‘cause I don’t want to put our business out there?”

His eyes turned, narrowing in on her intensely. The look made her falter slightly as Ony only heightened the situation. She’d never seen him so… upset, usually always calm and even-tempered like nothing could phase him. “That’s not what I said. I just don’t think it’s going to work for us. The fuck is wrong with that?”

Oh now he was doing way too much. “Wait,” Milana chuckled, laced with disbelief at his tone, his chest all puffed up as he tilted his head, smacking his lips at her. “Why are you cursing at me? You act like I’m committing a crime for not wanting to put myself out there on front street.” Now she was ready to show out, voice as sharp as her eyes that looked like they could cut him down.

Ony tried to take a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. His voice tightening as he held his composure. “All I’m saying is, I want to be able to be with you without having to worry about other people, and you should want that too.”

Milana’s scoff cut through the air like a blade, her frustration obvious as she rolled her eyes like he wasn’t making sense. He’d been trying to be patient up until this point, but hearing that dismissive sound sent a stabbing spike of irritation through him. It wasn’t just the words anymore; it was a culmination of everything, the way he felt like he wasn’t good enough to be proud of.

“Or are you trying to keep things on the low so you can still fuck around?”

Milana’s chest tightened uncomfortably, all of the air being sucked out of her at once. Her cheeks puffed up as she resisted the urge to ball up her fists unless she wanted to break a nail. The weight of his accusation hit her like a ton of bricks, and she couldn’t see anything past the red hot anger that was clouding her vision. “You know what, you can drop me off here.” Her voice shook as she tried not to spew out every obscenity she was thinking of, ready to just walk to school at this point.

Ony huffed through his nose, wanting to slam his head against the wheel after letting that out. That wasn’t supposed to happen, popping off at the mouth and saying reckless things unintentionally, a bad habit he was still trying to conquer. It definitely didn’t help that whenever he looked at her he had a strange mix of frustration and attraction going on in his head. He’d definitely have to tell her later that her angry face made him want to kiss her, and maybe do a little more than that.

“Are you seriously asking me to pull over and let you out?” Ony asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and a half-amused chuckle. “You’re funny if you think I’d do that.”

Milana’s face immediately darkened, glaring daggers at him. “Nothing about this is funny, so don’t even start with me.” All she wanted to do was scream, hands gripping the end of her skirt, bunching it in her hands frustratedly.

“Ain’t nobody starting with you, so chill.” He clicked his tongue, scratching at his jawline, trying to think of ways to apologize when they both calmed down. Her mouth opened again, ready to fire back at him when he cut in. “And I don’t give a fuck about your lil’ attitude. I’m still dropping you off and making sure you get there safe.” His tone had that finality to it, which meant no matter how she begged or pleaded, he was going to follow through. Her arms crossed over her chest, huffing in annoyance as she sat back and waited.

They each ignored each other on the ride there, Milana suddenly finding the window more interesting, looking at the side of his head each time she looked up, trying not to smack her lips in annoyance. Her body stiff, legs crossed so he couldn’t rest his hand on her thigh, bobbing her foot up and down in her cute wedges as she tried not to look at her anklet with his initial on it.

Did he really think she didn’t want to be with him without having to worry about what people would say? Of course, she wanted the same thing, but how could they have that when her own best friend wasn’t approving of them. She was so mad, even more so when she realized he wasn’t wrong, not exactly. He felt the way he felt, though said it in a bad way, but she also felt this deep, gnawing fear that she couldn’t and didn’t know how to explain to him. Afraid of opening up to the world, of being vulnerable. It wasn’t just about hiding their relationship; it was about protecting it. About protecting them from the harsh judgment that came with it.

Milana couldn’t dwell on it for too long, her campus coming into view as they pulled up, watching as Ony still came around to her side and opened her door, helping her step out once he parked in his usual spot down the street from the entrance. She practically leapt to her feet to get away from him, looking around to make sure no one saw them, the action not going unnoticed by him, only making his anger boil all over again. Milana was just about to storm off in a huff when Ony cleared his throat behind her, gesturing to her forgotten school bag in his hands. Oh great.

With her arms carrying her books, she made her way back to him, avoiding his eyes in a mix of embarrassment and irritation. She reached a hand out to take it back from him when he pulled it out of her reach, a teasing expression to him. “Nah, I think I’ll carry it for you.” Even better.

Ony leaned down, eyes boring into hers as he pressed a small kiss to the corner of her mouth, not able to stay mad for long, sliding the books out of her hands to walk them for her. Milana stepped back, not wanting to be so close to him right now, still feeling the residual emotions from their spat earlier. “Don’t be like that, Ma.”

“And what am I supposed to be like, Onyankopon?” She snapped back, reeling it in when he shot her a look for being short with him, lips pressing together to keep from saying anything else.

They started walking afterwards, Ony carrying all her things while Milana was actively trying to ignore him still, seething silently. People were practically tripping over their own feet trying to get out of his way, seeing the deep scowl he had on his face from not being able to resolve anything and having to leave it there. Whispers going around all by her ears making her want to cry and scream all at once.

Fuck, this wasn’t how he wanted it to go at all. Now she was stomping her little feet all around campus, looking cute as ever, but too mad to let him do anything about it. Ony sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he tried to shake off the guilt he was feeling. He said all the wrong things, too upset to think straight the moment he spilled out what he’d been trying to avoid all this time.

The path to class was too brief for his liking, but not short enough for hers, wanting to escape and be done with this situation. She turned to face him once they reached her Roots of African American culture class, the professor and some students already gathered to begin. He silently handed over her books and bag, watching her sling it over her shoulder and try and turn away to leave.

“We gone settle this later.” Ony all but declared, stuffing his hands in his pocket, mindful not to put his hands on her to give her some space.

“I don’t think so.” His tongue ran over his teeth, biting down and reminding himself that she had a right to be upset. He knew he’d only rile things up even more if he didn’t reel it in, and he’d never embarrass her by trying to argue right in front of her classroom.

“You don’t get to avoid me forever, gotta talk to me at some point, Milana.” Ony eased out, trying to reason softly with her, but only making her stomach tighten with a mix of emotions.

“Yeah well, you don’t get to say hurtful things then act like you care.” Her voice wobbled at the end, quickly rushing into her classroom before she broke down in an embarrassing scene. She took deep breaths, digging in her bag for some headphones to get through the day, writing notes with hardly any effort or drawings to power through. Instead, her mind was focused on not thinking about her boyfriend.

In the end, Ony still made his presence known everywhere she turned. He had been trying to talk it out all day with endless calls and texts, asking her to at least respond. Having to deal with that was hard enough, especially when she had to practically escape off campus to avoid driving with him again. Leaving class thirty minutes early after sending a text to let him know she didn’t need a ride.

That’s when he started going off the deep end, sending Mikasa, a neutral party, over with chocolates from him, really going all out to get her to answer the phone. At some point his messages started turning from asking to telling her that he was coming over, demanding to speak. There was just no way he was going to let this argument continue on like this, but Milana wasn’t too ready to just give up after she felt like he disrespected her.

“It’s like he thinks he owns me. Like I’m supposed to move when he says to. Just disregards everything I’m saying, and to top it all off, accused me of being a cheater?” She ranted, pacing her bedroom back and forth as she replayed the argument from her perspective.

“Girl, this is why I don’t fuck with men.” Mikasa opened another candy wrapper, popping it into her mouth with a content hum until it was snatched out of her hands. “What-”

“Stop eating my chocolates!” Milana huffed out as she slammed the box closed, tossing it to the other side of the bed with an annoyed eye roll. “Focus! Help me think about what I’m supposed to do when he gets here.”

Mikasa groaned, sitting up and rubbing her temples for a second while in deep thought. She mumbled ideas to herself under her breath, then smiled with a troublesome look, something that made Milana a bit hesitant. “What?” She asked, Mikasa sitting up and leaning close to her ear, playing the little devil on her shoulder.

“You want to show him you can make decisions without him, right? Be your own boss, don’t take his shit.” Whispering to her in a soothing tone, her words twisting something in her stomach, feeling a scheme coming on. “Come with me to this bonfire.”

“A bonfire?” How was a party going to solve her issues with Ony? That only sounded like some payback, like toxic Mikasa was in full effect. She felt a twinge of apprehension until it started mixing in with anger, turning into a desire to get out of the house. A strong sense of pride that made her want to show him that he couldn’t talk to her in any type of way. Mikasa’s advice is starting to sound better and better, and besides, if this were Sasha she’d probably be telling her to just cut her losses with him. What was the harm in hearing out another idea?

“Show him you’re not waiting around for him to decide your life. You don’t have to ask permission to go anywhere, so no harm no foul. You’re just going to go and get your mind off of things.” One gift that girl had was to make anything sound persuasive, and right now, everything was making a lot of sense. “No one from campus will be there. Let loose a little.”

Let loose, huh? Maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what she needed. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed.” Milana smirked, a little eager to get out of the house for the first time in a while. She definitely should’ve said twenty though, since Mikasa was holding her to every second. Impatient as she threw on her makeup and scrambled all over the room. Shimmying into some white capris and pulling on a low cut butterfly cami before picking out her chunkiest bracelets and matching heels. She stood in front of the mirror, her hands shaking slightly as she applied the finishing touches, rubbing in some glittering body oil over her skin.

The argument with Ony replayed in her mind, the harsh words, the silence that followed, and the look in his eyes that made her doubt everything. How could he feel like she would betray him like that? When she’d been actively trying to open up just like he was, letting him in closer than anyone else had ever gotten. The thought of even entertaining someone else was laughable, knowing that she’d rather throw up then have to flirt with a man. Especially when she wouldn’t find anyone else like Ony.

Milana had missed him all day, reading through each text he sent while trying not to cry, so angry with him that she didn’t know what to do. Despite the ache in her heart, she knew this was the step she needed to take. A small act of courage to move forward, even if only for tonight. Who knows when she’d feel like socializing again, and maybe it’d give her the confidence she needed to talk things out. Wanting nothing more than to squash this issue and get an apology, but she couldn't bring herself to reach out first. Not yet, anyway. She took a deep breath, knowing deep down, staying in her room while spiraling wouldn’t help. Shaking out the tenseness she felt, she made her way outside with Mikasa, seeing her smile and admiring her look today.

“You look amazing,” Mikasa said as they walked out to the car. “Bonfire's going to be good for you.” The drive to the beach was filled with light conversation and the crackling sound of the radio. Most of it a blur until they actually arrived at the beach, hopping out to make their way to the pit. It was where everyone went for hangouts, parties getting thrown nearly every day of the week all the time.

The air outside was getting crisp, the scent of burning wood filling their lungs as they approached the group gathered around the fire. She didn’t know them personally, not like Mikasa, but they were familiar faces and always nice when they ran into her.

People laughing, talking, and enjoying the warmth of the flames, spread across the area on lawn chairs and beach towels. This should be the perfect distraction. Milana and Mikasa joined the others, finding a spot to stand near the pit. As the warmth enveloped her, Milana felt a slow exhale escape her lips. She could hear Mikasa already jumping into conversations with multiple people, but her mind wandered again to Ony. He stopped reaching out, going radio silent now, which made her feel more uneasy, checking her phone again and again, refreshing it just to see nothing. Now she felt like she had taken him for granted, that he figured it was a waste of time trying to fix it. Was he even sorry? She didn’t know.

Mikasa was her usual cheery self within the group surrounding them, but Milana could sense her friend’s attention, occasionally drifting back to check on her. It made her feel a little better, but not enough to shake the unease. Her hands stretched out in front of her, warming up by the fire, each one holding a heel that was cute but impractical for the beach. “Hey, you okay?” Mikasa’s voice was gentle, probably sensing that she was sensitive, nudging Milana playfully with her shoulder.

She gave a half-hearted smile, softly kicking at the sand while inspecting the jumping embers. Her lips rubbed together as she tried to appear more calm than she felt. “Yeah, just… not used to this.”

Mikasa chuckled lightly. “It’s just a bonfire, Milana. No one’s going to bite.” This time she reached out and draped an arm over her shoulders, making her feel even warmer. “You want me to introduce you to someone?”

Milana hesitated. The thought of engaging with more strangers made her feel even more self-conscious. She glanced around at the group, hearing snippets of laughter and conversation, but felt too shy to join in. It was easier to stay quiet, to stay in her shell. “I don’t know,” Her voice low, quietly dropping her gaze to the sand. “I’m fine here.”

Mikasa nodded understandingly. “Alright, but if you change your mind, I’m right here.” Milana gave a small nod, appreciating the support. She stayed there, watching the fire, feeling its warmth but still battling the uncertainty inside her. Now she was wondering how her friend got her to agree with this. She didn’t get the chance to find out, an entire hour in and she hadn’t done much but feel like an imposter amongst everyone else.

The night alive with the pulse of music, the scent of saltwater in the air, orange and yellow light illuminating the beach. Mikasa making her laugh, hearing it mingle with the sound of waves, but her thoughts were far from relaxed. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being there, but there was something gnawing at her. Something about being here without Ony, without him knowing, felt wrong. Her nerves creating a tight knot in her stomach.

Milana excused herself to get a drink, needing some time alone for a second to just process everything. Some of the faces around her became unfamiliar, their energy high and free, something she struggled to mirror as she walked carefully to the cooler. Rummaging through it, she found a spiked lemonade that hadn’t been taken, celebrating her win with a smile as she cracked it open. The taste was heaven, cooling her down and giving her a little buzz to get through the rest of the night.

Mikasa approached her, noticing her expression was a little more serious than usual as she glanced up, sensing something was going on in her friend's mind. “Hey, Lana,” She said, taking a deep breath before sitting down in an empty chair next to her. “I need to dip for a second, my ex is here.”

Milana’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait, what?” She immediately sat down too, shocked to know that her ex girlfriend had showed up. They did know the same people, but usually she was always trying to stay away from Mikasa, keeping her blocked for months now.

“Yeah.” Mikasa’s tone was careful, almost hesitant. “I know, I know. It’s a bit of a mess, but she’s here, and I think I need to clear the air, you know?” Her eyes softened as she glanced at her friend. “I’ll be back soon. I just need to do this for myself.”

Milana blinked, processing the sudden shift. She didn’t realize Mikasa still had unfinished business with her Ex. Her friend, usually so confident and composed, was showing a vulnerability she hadn’t expected. Mikasa wasn’t one to really talk about their relationship, maybe it was painful to bring up, but tonight it seemed like she was ready to lay it all on the table. “You’re sure?” She asked, trying to keep her voice low. “You want to do this now?”

Mikasa nodded, her lips curling into a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. When you love someone, you have to make it right.” That caught her attention, Milana’s head poking up at her friend's words, taking in the subtle advice. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but she wasn’t sure what words would be helpful. Instead, she just nodded.

“Okay. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Mikasa stood, giving her a quick, tight hug. “Thanks, Lana,” She whispered before walking off away from the group of people who had gathered near the bonfire. Milana watched her go, feeling a strange mix of emotions. There was a sense of loneliness creeping in, but also a strange respect for Mikasa’s courage.

Her mind drifted back to the way Ony had looked at her, distant and hurt, and the words that had spilled out between them like a tidal wave. Maybe it had hurt him, just as much as it had torn her apart. Was she brave enough to fix it though? To apologize? Milana’s gaze dropped to the sand, tossing her shoes down beside her, huffing as she tried to ignore the tears welling up, her anger dissipating slowly. The idea of approaching him, of letting her guard down enough to admit her mistakes, made her feel nauseous.

But, then she drifted away again, her heart fluttering uncomfortably as a few memories of happier times with Ony flickered through her mind. Images of them laughing together, sharing quiet moments, the way he’d always held onto her like a lifeline, keeping her grounded. They’d built something together, something that felt like it could last, and yet, here they were, on the edge of something fragile.

Maybe Mikasa was right, and it was time to face the hard conversations. But how? How could she find the courage to repair what had been broken? Her fingers gripped the edge of her seat tightly, a small but defiant gesture. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to go to Ony yet, but the thought of letting everything slip away without trying seemed even harder to bear.

The sight of someone nearby pulled her out of her reverie. Milana turned, and a guy she didn’t recognize was standing beside her, dropping down into Mikasa’s old seat. He stretched out, getting a little too close for comfort as he decided to speak. “You look like you could use some company,” The man said with a sly wink, the kind that made her uncomfortable. “I’m Nate. What’s your name?”

His grin was confident, his eyes wandering over her as if she were a prize to be claimed. Milana forced a smile, but she wasn’t really interested. Her mind was still rushing in different directions. “Lana.” She shrugged out, lips pulled into a tight lipped smile as she went back to sipping her drink.

Milana looked uneasy, shifting back a little, but the man didn’t seem to take the hint. Instead, he scooted in closer, eyes gleaming when his hand brushed a bit too close to hers. “Silent type, I like that. You’re far too beautiful to be sitting here all alone though. Want to go for a walk?” She felt her stomach turn, but before she could come up with a polite excuse, a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“The fuck is going on here?”

She whipped around to see Ony, his face stormy, jaw clenched tight like he could shatter his teeth right now. His eyes looked past her, locked on the man beside her, and for a split second, the world seemed to freeze. Milana’s heart dropped into her stomach. She hadn’t even seen him pull up, but there he was, furious with defensive fists clenched at his sides.

When he had stepped onto the beach, the sound of the party was already buzzing in his ears, his feet hurriedly stomping towards the prettiest girl there. He hadn't wanted to come, not in the mood to be there, or around anyone for that matter after the argument with Milana. Yet, somehow Mikasa had convinced him, practically begged him, persuading him with the promise of being able to finally see his girl. Her presence was so magnetic that it almost hurt to look at her, and even from a distance, she commanded him towards her.

There, in front of him was everything he couldn’t seem to get out of his head. Her skin, so deep and rich that he practically wanted to sink his teeth in, glowing softly in the firelight. He watched the way her curls framed her face, a halo of beauty, each strand alive and full of life. The way her lips parted slightly when she smiled, the apple of her cheeks full with life just like her eyes. They held a shade of brown that always seemed to catch the light just right, making everything else around him blur.

For a moment, the anger, the confusion, the words they’d exchanged earlier melted away. All that was left was the woman he loved, standing in front of him like an image of pure poise and beauty. Then in an instant, it all turned sour.

Nothing could prepare him to see her sitting next to some guy. Ony quickly telling himself that he was overreacting, it’s nothing. He had no right to feel jealous, no right to feel this sting. They were fine, not broken up. Convincing himself that they were just... in a rough patch. But something about the way the guy leaned in, way too close, made something twist painfully inside of him.

Milana could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, embarrassment mingling with all her other unresolved feelings. She hadn’t expected him to show up, and now she was stuck in the middle of something that felt like it was spiraling out of control. It seemed like the only one who hadn’t gotten the hint was Nate, smirking at Ony like this was funny to him. “Hey man, relax. We’re just talking.”

Ony was already tall, but when close by the fire, it made his shadow loom over the two sitting down. His posture made him seem even bigger, broad shoulders squared, obviously not playing around right now. He was moving with a controlled intensity, like a man who knew exactly how to command space, how to make himself noticed without uttering a word.

He glanced briefly at the guy again—still smiling, still leaning in too close, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing Ony had to say to him, turning his attention to who he came for. “Let’s go.” Was all he said, the sharpness in his tone made her flinch. Milana hadn’t expected him to react like this, he had never been possessive, or so angry. She opened her mouth to explain, but the words wouldn’t come out, realizing she hadn’t even considered how this might look to him.

There was nothing to say, instead that would have to come later. Milana pushed up from her chair to stand, solemnly bending down, ready to grab her shoes when a cold hand reached for her wrist. It took her brain a second to register that it wasn’t from her boyfriend, who was now looking like he could commit murder. No, that random dude was holding onto her, making her turned to him confused as he opened his mouth. “Hey, I don’t think so man.”

“Excuse me?” In an instant, Ony stepped forward, his hand reaching for Milana, pulling her firmly toward him. The movement was almost instinctual, like a predator ready to strike, body strumming as he tried not to blow this up for everyone to see. There was no way he’d let another man get away with putting their hands on his girl though.

“Look man, I don’t know who you are, but I’ve waited like forever to talk to her. Just go back to where you came from and let the girl live a little.” The guy just wouldn’t let go, too busy squaring off with her boyfriend to notice how she wasn’t even interested. In fact, she was wondering what part of their short, barely there conversation convinced him that this was okay.

Ony didn’t know what he felt first. Rage, possessiveness, maybe something even darker. He didn’t like the way the guy was looking at Milana, didn’t like how her body language had shifted from her usual demeanor to someone a lot more tense, still trying to politely escape the situation. He for sure didn’t like this creep’s fucking hands on her either, and if he didn’t let go soon then he’d probably have to learn how to use it again in the hospital.

Nate seemed to not get that little bit of information Ony was conveying, instead deciding to fill the tense atmosphere with his grating voice. “Aye, I don’t usually fight for chicks, but she’s so fine I might have to take her from you.” That might’ve been the biggest mistake of the night, sending everyone involved into a silence that stretched on uncomfortably.

Then, out of the blue, amused laughter left Ony’s lips, heavy and uncomfortable. It was scary sounding, so loud that it pierced everyone’s ears, his lips curled into a dark, humorless smile. Uneasy wasn’t even the word to describe how this felt, watching him descend into madness, shoulders shaking slightly with actual mirth. He tried, he really did try not to let the words sink in, but he could only laugh as the thoughts swirling around in his head took a turn for the worse.

“Alright then.”

Ony’s laugh died quickly, but the effect lingered, his voice falling into a chilling calm as he spoke, low and guttural. Milana jumped immediately, heart dropping to her feet, sensing that the dark edge to her boyfriend’s tone was a red flag in the making. His hand reached underneath his hoodie, dipping into the waistband of his jeans to pull out a gun.

“Ony!” Her surprised yelp caught the man up to speed, the guy’s smile faltered as he realized the shift in the atmosphere, finally making him react in the face of danger.

“Woah, man.” The guy obviously didn't know whether to run or stay there, and she didn't think it'd matter anyways. He let go of her hand immediately, allowing her more range to be able to get in front of Ony, trying to push him back from the situation that was quickly unfolding. Nate had been all cocky smiles and bravado when he made his initial comment, trying to make a show of his casual flirtation with Milana. Yet, now that the confrontation was real, and he was facing Ony, standing just a few feet away as he towered over him like a force of nature, it was clear that the guy’s confidence had begun to evaporate.

“Nah, fuck all that. What happened to taking my girl? What happened to all that shit you was talking?” He looked downright unhinged, his words so calm and cool, but his eyes were wild and so scary that she couldn't even recognize him anymore. Her heart seized in her chest at the realization, getting pulled out of the way in her lax state. Nate backed up as Ony stepped forward, her hands reaching out to clutch onto the back of his hoodie and keep him under control.

“Stop, Ony! He didn’t do anything!” That had him turning, looking at her like she was the crazy one, as if he wasn’t the one up in arms over another man simply interacting with her. It looked like he was gearing up to fire back at her, but it gave the guy an opportunity to take a step back, and then another. His body language shifted from brash to something else. Fear and uncertainty, a realization that he had overestimated himself. Without missing a beat, he ran off in the complete opposite direction of the party, the parking lot, and the city for some reason. His footsteps kicked up the sand as he bolted, weaving through the crowd, desperate to put as much distance between himself and the man who was threatening him. Honestly Milana sighed in relief for him, for a minute she thought that it was over for the poor guy.

“Fucking Dumbass.” Ony’s tone was bored as he shook his head, watching him go before looking side to side briefly as he tucked his gun back. The guy hadn't even gotten close enough to warrant a swing, yet here he was, running away, knowing he’d lose badly.

The crowd around them had gone silent. Some of them exchanged confused glances, others looked at Ony with a mix of surprise and wariness. But he didn’t care, he wasn’t there to prove anything. He wasn’t remorseful, had no guilt or even embarrassment at his actions, simply treating the situation like a simple inconvenience that he got out of character. The guy had made his choice, and now, with his back turned and his footsteps fading in the distance, the message had been delivered loud and clear.

“Ony, you’re acting like a psycho!” Milana whisper shouted to him. Her voice cracked with frustration, hands trembling slightly as she gestured at Ony, who stood there like a wall, his expression unreadable. The words felt harsh, but it was the only way she knew how to get through to him. The way he had stood there earlier, staring down that guy like he was ready to tear him apart scared her.

The tension between them was palpable, and everything that had been left unsaid was coming to the surface, thickening the air around them. He only tilted his head at her, not moving, not even flinching at her words. Observing her like he was trying to see why she would say that, and for a moment, she didn’t think he’d respond at all.

“Oh yeah? C’mere and let’s talk about why I’m acting like a psycho.” Her jaw dropped instantly, and Milana actually thought she’d flash from how angry she was, turning on her feet to snatch up her heels and start walking off, too outdone with him. The sand beneath her feet felt like it was shifting with every step, liable to take her down as the salty breeze whipped her hair across her face. The waves crashed violently against the shore, mirroring the turmoil she felt inside.

There was just no reasoning with him, too out of control, and she wasn’t about to deal with it right now. Milana felt so weighed down with emotion that she thought she’d fall over. The fight wasn’t just about the guy anymore; it was everything. The way he was reacting, the way he couldn’t control himself. This wasn’t the Ony she had fallen for, the one who was patient and understanding.

“Milana, the fuck are you walking away for?” Ony’s voice followed her, urgent, his footsteps heavy as he tried to catch up. But she didn’t stop, feeling a storm brewing from how fired up she felt. All she wanted was to escape the pressure building inside her chest.

“I need a break, Ony!” She snapped, quickening her pace, her frustration cutting through her voice. “I really can’t do this right now!” He was right on her tail though, ready to just pull her off the beach kicking and screaming if he had to. Done with playing these games where she’d leave and he’d have to wait for her to talk.

“You’re not even listening to me when I’m the one trying to make this right?” That had her laughing in disbelief, eyebrows scrunched as her whole face twisted into anger, turning around to poke a nail into the center of his chest, keeping him arms length away.

“Make this right? By following me here and popping up like you own me? Or better yet, by threatening to shoot someone like a lunatic?” Her voice went lower and more aggressive as she tried to get away, choosing a path with no one in front of her, trying to find her friend through the sea of onlookers.

“I wouldn’t have to follow you here and show his bitchass what’s up if you actually acted like you give a fuck. You keep pushing me away like you wanna be single or some shit.” Ony snapped, his words coming out sharper than he meant, venom coating each syllable. He could feel the heat of the argument burning in his veins, and the tighter his grip on his temper became, the more reckless his mouth got. The argument had escalated faster than she expected, each word cutting deeper, and now it felt like the space between them was too wide to bridge.

Milana froze at his words, her heart sinking in her chest. The way he said it sounded like a threat, like he was going to up and leave her. She slowly turned to face him, her face a mixture of disbelief and hurt. His stomach clenched, and for a split second, Ony thought he saw tears in her eyes. Something that made him freeze for just a heartbeat. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Ony. I wasn’t even talking to him. How could you say that?” Her voice was rising now, a mixture of hurt and frustration. “You’re just a self-centered jerk who only cares about his own feelings.”

He couldn’t even be mad at that, her outburst filled with pain that he had inadvertently caused by throwing out accusations he didn’t mean. Ony managed to get in front of her path, going around to stop her from moving again, reaching out to soothe her from his own words when she stepped back. “You don’t think I feel bad?” He genuinely asked, wanting nothing more than to take away everything he said.

“You didn’t feel bad when you disrespected me in your car, Ony!” Milana could feel the shame flooding in, the walls she had carefully built around herself starting to crumble, everything inside her spiraling out of control. The love she had felt, the trust they had built all felt like it was slipping through her fingers, and she couldn’t stop it.

“What are you talking about? I felt like a fucking dickhead, why do you think I sent you all them fucking messages and shit!” Frustrated, he rubbed a hand down his face, holding himself back after that unexpected flash of anger. He saw the way people were trying to get closer to hear their argument, his blood boiling too much to deal with them too.

“Whatever, they don’t mean anything when you don’t even apologize.” She tried to step around him, his feet following hers like he knew every move she was about to make, mirroring her pace to stay close.

“You think I just wanted to talk for shits and giggles?” His arm catching hers before she could turn and walk away after realizing that he was trailing her like a shadow. Her head pounding uncomfortably trying to keep herself from acting crazy in public. “I’m not trying to yell at you right now, but I want you to talk to me.” There was no way he’d let her just go, not right when they were finally talking about what was going on, even if they were attracting a bit of attention.

“I want to go home.” Exasperated, Milana stomped her foot at him, trying to see around his stupidly tall body to find Mikasa. Her lip became wobbly as all her emotions hit her at once, and for the first time in a long while, Milana felt panic and was scared that everyone was seeing her fall apart. Seeing them fall apart. The weight of everything between them finally overwhelmed her. The floodgates she had been holding back all night were threatening to burst, and the anger and hurt mixed into a choking sob in her throat.

Ony felt a sharp pang in his chest at the sound of her voice, the pain in it hitting him harder than any physical punch ever could. “I’ll-I’ll take you. Right now, Baby. Whatever you want.” Ony felt desperate, alarmed seeing her almost cry, hating himself as he feared he took it too far. His hands came to rub up and down her arms, trying to bring her back down, sensing that she was too overwhelmed to think in the moment. “Let’s go, swear I’ll just take you home.”

“No.” She immediately rejected, the sting hurting worse than anything else she could’ve said. “I need..I should be by myself.” The words hit him like a blow, especially when he could see how much this was hurting her, the vulnerability that was hidden behind her anger, and he knew that this wasn’t just about the fight. It was about something deeper, something they hadn’t yet figured out. She wasn’t just trying to walk away from him; she was retreating into herself, and it terrified him more than he cared to admit.

“I can’t leave you here, Milana,” Ony said, stepping closer, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m taking you home.” His eyes softened, trying not to sound like he wanted to control her. He wasn’t trying to make her feel small, the hurt in her voice just stirred something inside him—a need to protect, to comfort, even if he wasn’t her favorite person right now.

Without another word, he closed the gap between them. He didn’t wait for her to protest or argue again. Only gently, but firmly lifting her into his hold, his strong arms encircling her waist and under her knees, pulling her close against his chest. Milana gasped, her body stiffening in surprise, but before she could protest or struggle, he was already walking toward the parking lot, his steps steady, almost calming in their rhythm. The warmth of his body against hers, the security of his hold, made her stomach twist in an unfamiliar way.

“Ony, stop!” She protested weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You shouldn’t-” He didn’t stop. He kept walking, his focus on getting her into the car, away from the harsh winds of the beach, away from the tension they’d created.

“I’m not putting you down,” He said quietly, his voice steady and strong despite feeling anything but right now. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me get you in the car, alright?” Milana went silent, her heart racing as she rested her head against his shoulder, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. The anger from the argument was still there, simmering beneath her skin, but the feeling of being held in his arms, of being cared for in this quiet way, was beginning to break her down.

They reached his car, and he carefully opened the passenger door with one hand, setting her gently inside. As he buckled her in, his fingers brushing against hers, and he looked at her with regret in his eyes. Milana felt a knot loosen in her chest, but there was still that part of her that wanted to pull away, that wanted to hide from him, to protect herself from the hurt that always seemed to come with conflict. But Ony wasn’t giving up on her. He wasn’t giving up on them.

He closed the door gently and walked around to the driver’s side, his movements slow, deliberate. As he started the car and pulled away from the beach, the quiet that settled between them felt different from before. It wasn’t filled with anger anymore. It was filled with the weight of things unsaid, but also with some flickering hope that they could repair what had been broken.

Milana stared out the window, the city lights shining brightly as they drove, her thoughts tangled in confusion. The warmth from his earlier embrace was still with her, but so was the ache from their words. Ony had carried her physically to the car, but emotionally, she wasn’t sure where they stood. The road ahead felt uncertain, but for the first time in what felt like a long while, she didn’t feel completely alone, they were hurting together.

He kept his focus on the road, his eyes steady, but every so often, he would glance at her, his gaze full of quiet concern. He didn’t know exactly what she needed right now, but he knew she needed him whether she admitted it or not. She could tell that he cared, that he was more than just a man filled with rage. Yet, somehow they’d both lost sight of that, getting wrapped up in hurt feelings and they didn’t know how to fix it. What happens if they couldn’t? If the way they felt for each other wasn’t enough, if she wasn’t enough to fix it.

Milana’s face was soft in the dim light of the car's interior, but there was an unmistakable distance in her eyes, an emotional gap that made him fearful for the first time in forever. Ony kept his hands on the steering wheel, his grip a little too tight, his knuckles constricting as he tried to find the right words.

He just blew up on the beach, too angry to be anything but stupid, careless— reacting without thinking, and she had only been quick to call him out to protect herself. He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling slowly as he tried to relax. He hated this, all of the fighting with Milana. Not just because it hurt, but because it made him realize just how much he valued her, how deeply he cared for her. Thoughts running to the sound of her gentle laugh, the way her eyes would light up when she talked about something she loved, and how she always made him feel like he was enough, even on his worst days.

He thought of the way she cared for him too, how she always seemed to know when he needed her, someone to lean on with kind words and even kinder touches. She had been a steady force in his chaotic world, and he wanted to be that for her too. It was the little things that made him realize how deeply he loved her, how much he wanted to make her feel seen and heard even if he wasn’t always good at that.

But right now, he had failed her. He hadn’t been the understanding, patient boyfriend she deserved, letting his own frustration spill out at the wrong moment in all the wrong ways, and now Ony didn’t know what to think. He couldn’t just let the day end like this, with a wall between them. He wasn’t perfect, and he never claimed to be, but what he did know was that he loved Milana. He loved the way she made him laugh, the way she pushed him to be better, and the way she accepted him, flaws and all. He wasn’t going to let one argument overshadow everything they’d started building.

When they reached her apartment, Ony pulled into his parking spot and turned off the engine, the car’s soft hum fading into the night. The air felt heavy, thick with the weight of their unresolved emotions, his body turning towards her, trying to be as open as he could. “Milana...” He started, his voice quieter now, more calm than earlier, making her ears perk at the change. “Look- I know we might need time, but... can we talk? I don’t want to leave with this hanging over us.”

Ony’s earlier words still echoed in her head, each one a painful reminder of how much he had hurt her. The guilt in his voice now, the way he had insisted on taking her home, only made it worse. It felt like he was trying to fix things, but she wasn’t sure how to let him anymore. Her heart twisted, the pressure building up behind her eyes.

She wanted to scream, wanted to shout that it was too late for talking, that the words had already done enough damage. Instead, she felt a lump form in her throat, too big to swallow, too thick to push down. The tears were coming, she could feel them in her chest, in the tightness of her throat, and she knew she couldn’t let him see. Not now. Not like this.

Milana’s hand trembled as she reached for the door handle, the sound of it clicking echoing in the quiet night. “I’m sorry,” She whispered, not looking at him, her voice breaking. “I just… I can’t. I can’t talk right now.” Before he could say anything, before he could even try to understand, she swung the door open and nearly stumbled out of the car.

Her body was moving on instinct, driven by the need to get away from him, away from the suffocating weight of the argument. Away from the pain that had settled in her chest. Ony’s voice followed her, soft but panicked. “Milana, wait-” But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Closing the door made her heart race, like she was shutting down bit by bit. Her pace quickened, almost frantic, her footsteps loud against the pavement, each one echoing in the quiet street.

Milana reached the door to her apartment, fumbling with her keys before pushing it open with trembling hands, and practically running inside. As soon as she was through the door, the floodgates opened. The tears came, hot and fast, as if they had been waiting for her to finally break. She pressed her palms to her face, trying to muffle the sobs that shook her whole body, but the sound of her own pain only made it worse.

Milana didn’t even care if anyone heard her, if the neighbors could hear her breaking. She just needed to feel something besides the emptiness that had taken over her. She didn’t want to talk to Ony right now, didn’t want to face him, because deep down, she wasn’t sure she could forgive him yet. The wounds were too fresh, and the words still felt like scars on her heart.

Oreo approached her with comforting meows, and she scooped him up into her arms, holding him close as though his small, wiggly body could absorb some of her pain. She made her way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her as if it could block out the world, and held him tightly to her chest. Sinking to the floor, her body folded in on itself as if the weight of the world had crashed down on her. And for a moment, it felt like she was drowning in it all, burying her face in the soft fur of her cat, trying to find some comfort in the familiar warmth.

Meanwhile, Ony sat in his car, his hands gripping the steering wheel, staring blankly at the dashboard. His mind raced with all the things he should have said and done, but it felt like every time he tried to work through it, every word he thought of just made everything worse. He had crossed a line tonight, and the damage was already done. This was probably the hardest thing he’d ever done, going in blind with no experience in making up like this. Usually, a gift was good enough, send some flowers, candy, maybe a new bag depending on how bad he messed up. To make things better with his words seemed like an impossible task.

Cursing to himself, he cut the engine, not able to shake the fear that if he tried to apologize now, he’d just make it worse. That somehow, his words would fail her again. But… she needed him. No matter how many times he told himself he was the last person who should be near her right now, the fear that this was it drove him forward. It gave him the kick he needed to muster up the courage to get out of the car and approach her apartment. Her front door unlocked still, probably in her rush to get inside, locking it for her and stepping in further.

Ony noted that it was dark except for the light pouring in underneath the bathroom door, his feet planted outside of it, making sure that when he spoke now it’d only be to comfort her. He sucked in a breath as he knocked softly, getting no response. He knocked again, this time more urgently, calling her name. “Baby? Let me see you, Ma.” His heart raced, and a feeling of helplessness swirled inside him. What if she wasn’t ready? What if she just wanted space? He couldn’t leave without telling her, at the very least, that he was sorry. That he cared. That he was here. If there was even a chance he could make it right, he had to try. She deserved better than what he had given her tonight. She deserved honesty, and respect, and a love that didn’t cause pain.

Inside, Milana heard his voice, but it didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, it made her cry even more. She didn’t know what to say to him. She didn’t know how to put all the emotions she was feeling into words that wouldn’t come out wrong. Instead, she buried her face deeper into Oreo’s fur, as if hoping the cat could protect her from the hurt that still stung. The soft, rhythmic purring of the black-and-white cat was the only thing grounding her, a nice presence in the midst of her emotional storm. Her fingers absently stroked his back, trying to find some sense of calm that seemed just out of reach.

The knocks on the door continued, and finally, Milana stood, wiping her face as best as she could. Her makeup had tear streaks down the sides of her cheeks, and her nose was a bit runny as she tried to clean herself up in her mirror. Ony’s words filtered through as he continued talking to her, hearing the water running for a few seconds and her bracelets jingling as she moved around, giving him a bit of comfort.

After a few minutes to collect herself, she opened the bathroom door, not quite ready to face him but knowing she had to. Oreo slinked his way out through the other side as Ony stood patiently, his expression full of concern, guilt, and something else she couldn’t quite place. He sighed, deep and heavy with emotion, one that made her want to cry all over again. “Baby,” His voice hoarse with raw emotion, hands clenching again, but this time to keep himself controlled.

He knew that there were going to be more hard times, moments when things won’t go perfectly, but he was still willing to fight for her. He’d always fight for her, he’d acknowledge his mistakes and decide to do the work to make things right, because at the end of the day, she was worth it.

“I’m sorry,” Ony said quietly, a bit shaky, unused to having to apologize. “I should’ve never said those things. I should’ve never let it get out of control. I—I should’ve never said that mean shit to you. I just got frustrated, and I didn’t know how to fix it in front of everyone.”

Milana’s palms came up to press over her eyes, taking a trembling breath in and out. Her breathing hitched as she finally let her arms fall to her sides, the tension in her body slowly easing, though the rawness of everything still clung to the air around them. She didn’t look away from him, but her lips quivered as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “That was h-horrible, Ony. What we said to each-each other-”

Her words cut off, trying to stay in the moment with him, forcing herself to stand in the uncomfortable feeling to get it out. “I f-felt like I was losing you, like… like nothing I did mattered.” He had apologized, had bared the weight of his regret, but what were they going to do moving forward?

He swallowed, nodding, her words settling in. “I know. I messed up, I said things I shouldn’t have. I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted. I need you to know how sorry I am.” The words were rough, but honest. Ony wasn’t trying to dress it up, wasn’t trying to make excuses. He just needed her to hear him, needed her to understand that he was afraid of losing her.

Milana stood there for a moment, her face unreadable, and Ony thought she might just close the door and walk away. But then, she stepped aside, just enough for him to come in. He didn’t move immediately. He stood frozen for a moment, his heart thudding in his chest, at what it meant. However, seeing her standing there, the hurt still clear on her face, he couldn’t hesitate anymore. He stepped inside, slowly and cautiously, giving her a bit of space even though his body was a little crowded in the small entrance.

Ony took one step closer, willing his hands to not tremble as he reached for hers. “Please… don’t shut me out. Let me try to fix this, I don’t want to lose you. Not over something stupid.” She didn’t answer right away, but she didn’t pull her hands back either. For the first time that night, there was a softness in her gaze, just the faintest glimmer of hope that maybe, she wasn’t ready to give up on them.

“I’m so sorry too,” She paused, taking a breath, trying to find the words that could make him understand how apologetic she truly was. “I never wanted to hurt you, just wanted to protect us from everyone. I’m just scared.” He listened intently, brushing her curls away from her face, his fingers lingering on her skin, grounding himself in the softness of her.

“Y’don’t have to be scared, Mama. I’m here.” Milana took a shaky breath, then another, before finally taking a step closer to him. Her hand, trembling slightly, resting it on his chest, over his heart. She met his eyes and nodded, as if she were finally beginning to believe him. Her shoulders softened as if allowing herself to be held by his presence.

Ony’s heart surged in his chest as he reached for her, pulling her into his arms, his hands gentle but firm around her waist. She didn’t resist, didn’t pull away, and as he held her close, her arms wound around his neck, her body finally relaxing into his embrace. In that space, they were closer than they had been in hours. Their breaths, shaky and soft, seemed to synchronize, the silence between them holding more meaning than any words could.

Milana pulled back slightly, her forehead resting gently against Ony’s, her breath warm against his skin. The space between them felt like the whole world had contracted into something small, intimate, and undeniable. Everything else felt inconsequential. The hurt, the words, the distance they’d felt earlier seemed to vanish in the quiet of the moment. It was just the two of them now, and for the first time that night, it felt like things were right again.

His fingers gently cupped her face, thumb tracing the soft curve of her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed, the tenderness of it overwhelming her. The tension that had been coiled so tightly inside her, that heaviness that had weighed on her chest since their argument, slowly began to release. She felt safe here, in his arms, even though they were still picking up the pieces of their love.

As if they both couldn’t stand the distance any longer, Ony leaned in. It was slow at first, like they were both testing the waters, unsure if the kiss could bridge the gap that had formed between them.

Then his lips brushed against hers in a way that made Milana’s heart skip, reassuring her that everything would be okay. It wasn’t a grand, sweeping gesture, but it was everything they needed. It was forgiveness, and love, and the promise that they would always find their way back to each other, no matter how lost they might get.

But soon, the kiss deepened, moving faster at a steady pace, the kind of kiss that said more than words ever could. The kind that had him gripping her tighter, pushing her backwards until her back touched the bathroom counter, holding her still there. Needy pecks starting to smack together feverishly, kissing harder than they ever had. Their hands getting tangled in each other, pulling intently to bring the other closer.

“Wait-” Ony pulled back, wanting to step away, but her hands wouldn’t let him. Her eyes getting misty again as she tried to keep them there, needing him to touch her more desperately than she realized. “We’re going too far, I should...” Milana couldn’t stop pressing kisses all over his jaw, distracting him so much that he was having a hard time stringing together his words.

“Please?” She asked, his eyes widening at the implication. He hadn’t done anything since their first date, keeping his hands as respectful as possible, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. But, now she was giving him the green light he needed to satisfy her in all the ways he wanted to. “T-Touch me, please? I need it-”

He spun her quickly, facing her away from him and towards the mirror instead, his head dropping down into her neck to hide how heated her words made him. Gently, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, his hips trying to stay away from pushing into her unless she wanted to feel how hard he was getting. “Need me that bad, Mama?”

Milana gasped softly at the sudden touch but relaxed almost immediately, leaning back into him. Ony rested his chin on her shoulder, pulling her a little closer. The warmth of her body, the softness of her hair, the rhythm of her breathing—all of it felt so right, so natural.

His hands circled around her hips, dropping down to where her carpis covered her belly, his fingers skimming over the jewelry underneath. Ony was eager to get his hands on her again, having to bite his lip to keep from revealing the smile he was sporting, happy to help her feel everything he’s been wanting to give her. “Want me to touch you here?” He made sure to ask again, massaging her reassuringly in case she needed a break.

“Mhm.” She mumbled out, rushed as she wiggled, grinding slightly against him. Their eyes locking through the mirror in a flash, his boring intently into hers, holding her a bit tighter.

“Say it, Mama.” Ony urged, watching amusedly as she huffed impatiently, Her gaze bouncing every which way now, cutely pursing her lips in thought over his request.

“Need you to-to touch me, please?” Milana could barely look at him while trying to string that sentence together, but it came out truthfully nonetheless. He smiled at how shy she was acting, pressing a nice kiss to neck right under her ear, letting her take a few deep breaths before he did anything.

Slowly, a hand slipped down her pants, easily finding its way into her panties to touch her skin, making her jump. She lifted off of her soles, resting on her toes as she braced her hands against the countertop in front of her, shuddering as he went lower. His other hand left from around her middle, lifting higher to wrap around the top of her chest, just under her neck. Pulling her back into his him as he kept his lips to her ear.

“Fuck,” Ony groaned, smooth and heady, making her whine as he stopped for a second, just resting against her. She was warm, and the further he went the more fiery hot he felt. He settled his nerves, wanting to make this moment special for her, the weight on his shoulders resting on the fact that this was her first time doing this. “You’re doing so good, Baby.” His voice easing her as he whispered, his eyes locked on her face through their reflection. “So, so good.”

“Ony~” Milana moaned out as his middle finger dipped, sliding down her slick clit, her legs shaking as he went up then back again, making her cry out at the ticklish feeling creating pulses of pleasure deep within her belly.

“I’m right here,” She was quickly getting wetter right between her legs the more he explored, his finger dropping to massage at her entrance then rubbing the wetness against her swollen bud. He pet at her nicely, rubbing smooth circles into her to get her to relax. Ony’s slender middle finger was long and thick, the pad touch at and prodded at her open hole, beginning to push in all at once to rip it off like a bandaid. “You’re alright, you’ve got it, Ma.”

“Ahh!” He was careful as Milana squealed, squirming in slight pain from the discomfort. Her hands coming up to grip his forearm where it rested around her, closing her eyes tight as he moved around slightly, filling her up until it touched a part of her no one had ever been before. With how wet she was, it was easy to move. His finger curling, moving left, then right, turning to the middle when Ony heard a different moan pour out of her glossy lips, one that had his dick springing to life.

He delved deep, moving at a methodical, leisurely pace, the tip rubbing into her warm, spongey walls, favouring her g-spot especially when it made her gasp and squeak. He pressed against it and he knows he’s found it when Milana’s arching her back, trying to push her hips away to escape the jolts of pleasure. She had nowhere to go though, not with his body pressing right behind her, keeping her planted right where she stood.

“Take a breath, Baby.” Ony’s words commanding enough to break through the haze clouding her mind. Her head dropped down, clenching her teeth together as she tried to breathe like he said, exhaling a long whine as he pushed up harder.

Milana’s legs could barely hold her, his other hand retreating to slide under her arms to hold her up himself. “So gorgeous,” He said as tears formed at the corner of her eyes, involuntary whines filling up the cramped bathroom. The pace fastens, his finger curling with every stroke, her orgasm coming embarrassingly early while he hits her g-spot over and over again. Her pussy gushing as she clenched and unclenched erratically, walls convulsing around him. “So perfect, all for me.”

“Mhm,” She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth as he hit deep strokes and massaged his fingertip into her gummy walls. Her sticky juices all over his hand, his palm coming into contact with her sensitive nub, introducing the added stimulation just as she began falling apart. The touch had Milana gasping, fingers clenching around the sleeve of Ony’s hoodie, one hand gripping his wrist for leverage. “C-Cumming!” Milana gasped out, body trembling from the sensitivity she endured, his eyes watching as he waited for it, wanting to see the look on her face when she came.

“Eyes on me,” He grunts, reaching up and grabbing her face, chubby cheeks squished in between his fingers. Drool dribbles down her chin as she’s moaning louder, forced to stare at him through the mirror. “I’m right here, Baby. Just keep looking at me.” With Ony’s praises and kisses along her face, he throws Milana over the edge, making her cry his name, trying to keep the contact he asked for but finding it near impossible.

Her body felt electric, every muscle tightening at once, clenching down on him to tight that he wondered how he’d even fit at all, snugly nestled deep to keep petting at her soft spot inside. Her hips couldn't stop moving, full out grinding back against the bulge in his jeans, making him groan as he watched the pleasure take over her. Pretty pink nails digging into his arm as she rode it out in waves, wobbling back and forth into his hand, which he took as a silent plea for more.

Ony smirks, finally having Milana at his mercy, his ring finger dropping down to feel around her entrance as well. Adding another finger felt like an impossible task, yet somehow as she released all over his waiting hand, she was able to lube him up enough to glide the tip in next to his longer one. She nearly screamed at the feeling, legs going haywire as he forced her head back, standing at his full height to get leverage over her.

“It’s alright, Mama. Just gotta make sure you feel me.” He growled down at her, their eyes locked together as he pushed the rest of the way in, settling both fingers next to each other. His hand curled itself so deep that it was lifting her off her feet entirely, starting off with a slow stroke to get her acclimated. The sigh from her throat made her breathless, like she could pass out from the sensations overwhelming her body.

“‘S too much,” Milana panted, wiggling her hips away, but to no avail since he doesn’t let her. The rush of mind numbing pleasure made her hands scramble to hold onto him, his low chuckle causing more slick to escape. Tears rolling down again, this time it wasn’t because of their argument, but he was still causing it nonetheless.

“You’ve got it.” Ony’s words of encouragement were the only option she could take at this point. The whole room filling with the squelching sound of his fingers working her inside out. His arm arches, and his muscles flex under his top as he goes at it with more intensity, her mouth not able to shut up as he drove her closer and closer all over again.

“Wa-Wait!” She rushed out, whining in a strained voice as she clenched her teeth, bracing herself through the slight pain of overstimulation. Her belly winding so tight, so fast again that she could tell this one was going to wreck her. Milana tried to pull his upper arm away from her face, shaking her head as her other hand tried to pry his wrist from her pants.

“That’s a good girl. Let go for me, Baby. Shhh, that’s it, just cum. Want you to soak my whole fucking hand.” Ony felt how her pussy contracted and squeezed like crazy around his middle and ring fingers, wetting him so badly that it was showing through the cotton of her capris. He felt like he could bust in his boxers right where he stood, watching in awe as her knees tried to close around his hand to stop the inevitable, speeding up just to see how much more she could take.

“ONY!” The scream Milana let out was perfect, eyes rolling back so far that all he could see were the whites, mouth open as she locked into a deep arch, his fingers stopping their pumping to instead stroke her inside, churning her body into nothing but mush. He’s pushing his fingers up deeper, feeling around in slow motions, savoring her tight grip and the warm home she provided for them. She shuddered in his arms, sighing out in relief that she came, whole body spasming as her toes curled.

“Still with me, Mama?” Ony asked gently, pressing another kiss to her face, her chest heaving as she tried to calm down. Her heart felt like it could beat out of her chest, and her breathing was all over the place trying to regain all of her hearing back through the high pitch ringing in her ears.

“Mhm…” Milana mumbled, noticing the grip on her face was much looser, helping her head to stay up now. She looked up at him, feeling lovey-dovey because of his sweet tone, and how good she felt. He smiled down at her, withdrawing his fingers with a sloppy squelching little pop noise, and her hole missed him immediately, the feeling his fingers left behind still affecting her.

They quickly went up to Ony’s lips, watching in astonishment as he opened to push them into his mouth, groaning in delight at the taste. His eyes mischievous, catching the way her legs clenched together before shaking again, all her weight slumped into him as he held her up. If he wasn’t the one keeping her stable right now, she would’ve covered her face, scolding him in embarrassment.

“Gotta clean you up, Mama. Get you ready for school tomorrow.” He reminded her soothingly, pulling his fingers from his mouth, looking down at her as he leaned down to kiss her lips. She moaned again, trying to get closer but fumbling slightly, still trying to get her bearings. Their lips moving together so passionately that Ony thought about giving her one more just to really drive it home for her. But, they have a lot to do to prepare her for tomorrow, and that included cleaning up the mess he left behind.

Together, they took a second to bask in the moment they shared, turning his head slightly to let his cheek brush the top of Milana’s hair. His fingers gently let go of her cheeks to wrap around her again, tracing the curve down her torso to her hip, feeling the warmth of her skin, the delicate rise and fall of her breathing. He didn't rush it. There was no need to fill the space with noise, because in it, everything that had been said and unsaid already existed.

Without breaking the silence, Ony reached up and gently tucked her curls behind her ear. Milana’s smile was small but full of warmth. She didn’t need to say it. He already knew. And in that knowing, in the silent understanding they shared, everything felt right. It was a love unspoken but felt in every glance, every touch, every quiet moment. It was a love that could weather the hardest storms, not because it was flawless, but because it was real. And tonight, it was enough.

15.4k words???😵‍💫 Chat, what’s going on rn??? This was supposed to be like 7-8k words at most! Wtf? Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to top it next chapter. 😏 Hope everyone enjoys this craziness and I can’t wait for you to read the next one! xoxo - Bow 🎀

Taglist:

@kxllanxtdoor

@rintcrous

@blackgirlmagicforever

@hidd3nbimbo

@jungkooksleftballsack

@neighbourscat

@chosokamos

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

I need to write. I'm too pissed off rn.

What if Tommy showed up after Patricia died?

Moving her mother's stuff almost felt like betrayal. Abby knew her mom was gone, a part of her felt relieved, another upset, another angry.

It was just too overwhelming to feel or think. She just had to power through it but she was getting more drained and exhausted. Despite her brother, Carla, and Buck being there to help her pack and move stuff out.

Buck was trying his best. She knew that. But she felt a little annoyed and suffocated by him right now. Despite knowing deep down he didn't do anything wrong.

"Okay, clothes are boxed up and ready." Buck let her know, holding said boxes in his arm. She didn't appreciate the smile from Carla and the mirth behind her eyes regarding Buck inadvertently showing off his muscles. "Where do you want this?"

There was a pause before her brother noticed her expression and quickly told Buck, "Over there by the door is fine." He gave Abby a questionable glance, she could see her brother making his way towards her when the doorbell rang.

"That's probably Josh or Sue." Abby sighed, wiping her hands down the side of her pants anxiously. "Buck? Would you mind?" She jutted her chin towards the door.

"Uh- yeah, sure." Buck opened the door quickly and wide, she couldn't see his expression whilst opening it but Abby figured it was similar to her's.

She momentarily frowned, stepping closer when she realized it wasn't Josh or Sue. It was a man carrying a large bouquet of white flowers that was obscuring his face- but Abby knew from the lower half of the man's body that it wasn't Josh...but she was getting deja vu.

The flowers shifted, exposing the man's face.

"Tommy!" Abby exhaled happily and in shock. Pushing past Buck to let the other man in and accept a side hug.

"There's my Abby." It felt all too familiar to be hugged by her ex. Tommy and her weren't together for that long before he came out to her. She was understanding, surprised, but understanding.

He had sworn up and down to her that he cared about her genuinely and that he wasn't using her- to some extent. But the more he spent time with her the more he knew he was just lying to himself.

She should have been upset but Tommy was always kind to her when they were dating and understanding about the fact that her mom came first.

Truth be told, they dated but they didn't spend a lot of time together and Tommy never pushed her about it.

Which made sense in the long run.

"I'm so sorry about Patricia." Tommy told her, his voice sincere, "i wanted to come to the funeral but couldn't find someone to cover my shift." He presented her with the flowers, "Thought to come here to show my respects while dropping these off."

Her brother stepped up first to grab the flowers, shifting it to one side as he stuck out his hand to shake Tommy's. "Hi, I'm Matthew." He lifted the flowers, "These are lovely, I'm sure our mother would have loved them."

Abby felt her eyes sting a bit but she pushed on, "Oh and this is Carla."

Carla gave her a sly look but said nothing as she shook Tommy's hand. "It's nice to meet you. I heard a lot about you."

Tommy paused, looking reproachful momentarily. "Ah, good things, I hope?"

Carla smiled brightly, waving her hand playfully as she told him "Of course!"

Carla didn't move just watching with a curious expression as Abby started to ask how Tommy how he was doing. Before Tommy could get into the weeds about his life, Carla cleared her throat getting the attention of Abby and Tommy.

"Isn't there someone else you might want to introduce Tommy to?" She asked Abby with raised brows and a head tilt.

Abby frowned, looking genuinely confused about who else was left till she noticed where Carla was tilting her head to.

She saw Buck standing by the door still, looking not upset or jealous as Carla might have expected.

But in awe?

Probably in awe at how he could be forgotten like that by Abby.

"Oh, Buck!" Abby gave out a self-deprecating laugh as she ushered Buck over.

Carla was not a betting woman.

But working with people for as long as she has made Carla confident in her ability to read people.

Granted, she didn't know much about Tommy except he was younger than Abby (older than Buck, clearly) and that their break up was amicable.

She thought he was a good looking guy, brown hair and blue eyes. Abby clearly had a type since Tommy was as tall as Buck, buffer slightly (what did he do for work?) And they both styled their hair similarly. Not to mention, Tommy's eyes were blue too, darker in color and sadder somehow.

She would have figured Tommy and or Buck would be a bit possessive or jealous about Abby.

But she oddly wasn't getting that vibe.

"Tommy, this is Evan Buckley, but you can call him Buck." Abby said cheerfully.

It was like watching....something unfold.

She could see Tommy’s eyes light up, a hint of a smile pulling up at the corners of his lips as he shook Buck's hand. "It's nice to meet you Evan."

Buck looked oddly...star struck?

She quirked her head to the side as she noticed Buck dry swallow, "Y-You can call me Evan."

Tommy's chuckle had Buck turning pink all over, making his birthmark seem even redder as Tommy told him. "I just did."

Matthew sided up to her, watching their introduction seemed as perplexing to him as it was to her.

"Right." Buck laughed as he took his hand back, "Right." Carla didn't miss how Buck wiped his palm on the side of his pants, the flush only deepening when Tommy asked, "I take it you're part of the family?"

Abby laughed this time, "No,no, Buck's not related. We're-" she took a deep breath as she grabbed the hand that Buck had used to shake Tommy's hand. "Dating."

"Oh."

Carla felt Mathew bump his shoulder into hers. There was no way Abby didn't see the look of disappointment on Tommy's face there.

"Is that okay?" Abby asked, unsure but knowing in a way that made Carla a little concerned.

"Of course." Tommy seemed quick to fix his face, standing up straighter as his eyes lingered on Buck in a too quick moment that Carla barely caught. "Of course." He said firmly, this time with a smile and patting Abby's arm supportively. "I'm glad you have so many people to support you. It's nice when you have family that has your back."

There definitely was a story there.

Carla didn't miss those sad eyes getting sadder.

And neither did Buck.

"I'm sure Abby is glad to have your support too. I don't know of a lot of exes that would send their ex flowers." Buck gave Tommy a smile that lit up his face, almost as though he was impressed by the guy. "You really go all in, huh." He laughed in good humor, causing Tommy to look down with a small smile of his own.

He almost looked like he was blushing himself.

"I'm not a great ex or anything, I just wanted to check in on Abby."

Buck shrugged, still looking at Tommy in awe. "Still better than any of my exes."

"Tommy is a special ex." Abby declared, running her hand up and down Tommy's arm.

(Yeah, Carla didn't miss Tommy wincing there and looking at Buck)

"You are a sweetheart, you know that right?" Abby asked, not giving Tommy time enough to react or answer before going, "Hey! You know, this is perfect timing because Buck here is a firefighter too."

Buck and Tommy were taken back by that. "You're a firefighter too?" Buck asked excitedly.

Tommy shrugged, seemingly playing coy as he replied "Firefighter pilot really."

Buck's eyes lit up with even more excitement, "No way! That's so cool! You're like a superhero or something."

That had Tommy rubbing the back of his neck in clear discomfort, "Or something." He muttered, but that didn't Buck from asking a bunch of questions about being a firefighter pilot.

Carla thought it was sweet that Tommy and Buck were getting along, clearly Buck had taken a liking to Tommy quickly.

Quick enough that Abby was looking annoyed now.

"Buck." Abby cleared her throat, throwing an apologetic look towards Tommy. "I'm sure Tommy has better things to do on his off day than talk about work."

Before Buck has the chance to become disappointed at that Tommy shook his head, all smiles as he told Buck. "Actually I really don't have anything better to do." He finally looked around the room, noticing the boxes and stacks of Patricia's belongings. "But I can see you guys do." He gave Abby a sheepish smile, "I didn't mean to over step."

"No, no." Abby waved him off, "You didn't, it was nice. It really means a lot that you showed up...it's just-"

"I know. I should get out of your hair." Tommy and Abby shared a small smile and laugh, clearly it was a inside joke. He nodded towards Carla and Matthew, "It was nice meeting you two." He turned to Buck, his smile a hit different. Carla could see something there. Even the way Tommy held himself was different when he spoke to Buck. "It was really nice meeting you too, Evan." He stuck out his hand for Buck to shake.

"Yeah- yeah. Y-you too." Buck fumbled, earning a playful smile from Tommy.

Before the latter opened the door, Buck suddenly went, "I should get your number."

Carla needed popcorn for this now.

Tommy looked at him questioningly, a confused but ghost of a smile there as he looked towards Buck for clarification.

Buck could feel all eyes on him now, he looked at Abby and then at Carla and Matthew before turning to look at Tommy again. "Y’know...for firefighting... stuff." He stammered, he shook his head and held his chin higher, a bit proud of himself as he told Tommy "I'm a probie so it would be great to talk to you. Maybe get some pointers?"

Tommy shook his head as he laughed, head tilted up and eyes finally bright as he told Buck. "Of course." And pulled out his cellphone as Buck did the same.

"I'll call you? Maybe we can set up a time for your to tour the harbor?"

Buck sighed in relief, his smile matching Tommy's as he told him "I would love that."

Tommy nodded , patting Buck's arm as the other man held his wrist momentarily. "We'll talk soon then Evan. Bye."

"Bye Tommy."

Once Tommy was out and the door was closed, Buck was right back at Abbys side. "Tommy seems so cool!"

"Yeah, he is." Abby confirmed, not looking bothered at all that her current boyfriend and ex were chummy now. "I'm glad you two seem to like each other."

"What's not to like? Tommy seems really interesting." Buck looked back at the door, his eyes falling back to the boxes. "Was there anything else in your room that belonged to your mom that you wanted me to move?"

While Abby gave Buck a list of things to grab, Matthew could only ask Carla "Is he always like that with people?" Referring to Buck

Carla shook her head "No." Granted, she didn't know Buck for too long but Buck always struck her as the jealous and insecure type when it came to Abby.

But he seemed opened and even excited about Tommy.

Even before knowing that Tommy was a firefighter too.

(Abby really had a type.)

"Guess Tommy is just so cool." Carla joked, realizing the joke fell flat as Matthew still looked at Buck with a studious expression. "What? What do you think it is?" She asked.

Matthew became all smiles and coy himself, "I don't know yet."

[sugarcream-sims]

<Back | Magical Boy Sugar Cream 🍰 Ep 2 Part 6 | Next> Last time, Galation had his head wound treated by his surprisingly nice nosy, invasive roommates. Terrified that his alter ego might be discovered, Gally drifted off to sleep. Elsewhere, an engine revs...

🍰 Content Continues Below the Cut

<Back | Magical Boy Sugar Cream 🍰 Ep 2 Part 6 | Next>

🍰🍰🍰

it's the chromarangers...! considering how much they've been brought up, they were bound to appear. also the second appearance of Mick, who featured earlier as a disembodied podcast voice

CHROMA. RED: uses they/them pronouns. the team nerd. a hardlight weapon engineer that names their drones. recently promoted to leader, after the former team leader was KIA. isn't super jazzed to be in charge CHROMA. BLUE: he/him. the team muscle. sword master. speaks bluntly, sometimes comes across as insensitive, but is actually pretty empathetic. wanted to be the team leader, but he got over it CHROMA. PEARL: she/her. the team gunner. refused to be called "pink." two-faced, with a sweet public persona, but is poisonous in private. wants to retire young, and is using her position to build fame.

Red's scan detected light magic for the first time. Unsurprisingly, tech built only to deal with dark magic doesn't know what to make of it. we'll see more of the rangers in the future, as they hunt Gally down like a dog! this is the last part of ep. 2... the next update will be an interlude featuring everyone's favorite Obscura, Tenta <3

[tgmsunmontue]

Tracing poetry with your lips - 3/? - Hangster

One juvenile kissing game and two juvenile idiots both convinced they can win the game. (Will be Explicit). Idea from @iprefervillains

ONE TWO

PART THREE

                Just like he knew it would, it has Bradshaw licking into his mouth with a thrilling level of ferocity. Jake very carefully kisses back, his fingers curling in on themselves in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out; nails digging in to remind him of the end goal so he doesn’t lean in the way he wants to. He’s never told Bradshaw what he does to Jake, but he’s pretty sure he could right now, whisper sweet filthy nothings against Bradshaw’s skin and have him grabbing Jake in desperation.

                His lips are feeling hot and swollen from the rough kissing, but Jake likes it, they become extra sensitive and as he pulls back a little he’s revels in the fact that Bradshaw follows, leans into him. He drags his bottom lip up Bradshaw’s jaw to his earlobe, flicks out a tongue and then sucks gently, lets his own stubble scrape against the skin of Bradshaw’s neck. He feels the full body shiver start from Bradshaw’s neck and Jake can feel the flex of muscles under his mouth.

                “Jesus fuck Jake…”

                The words are so so quiet he doesn’t know if anyone else even hears them, though the use of his name startles him, makes his own body quiver a little. Huh. It’s a different level of intimacy he supposes, and he wonders if Bradshaw will be likewise affected when Jake calls him Bradley. He’ll try it soon enough. Right now though he slows and softens his kisses, forcing Bradshaw to chase after him a little and his lips twitch in amusement before Bradshaw is kissing him again and he groans into it, because it feels good, shivery anticipation all over his body that he wants to press against something. Preferably Bradshaw.

                But not until he’s got what he wants.

                “Do you know what you do to me Bradshaw…?” Jake says, his words soft as Bradshaw kisses over the skin of his neck and he knows the others are muttering about them being as bad as each other but he doesn’t care right now. “Your stupid fucking moustache just lights my skin up… makes me so hard… I want to get on my knees for you…”

                “Fucks sake Jake…” Bradshaw croaks into his ear and he sounds so fucking good, voice all raspy like when they’re finished fucking, or after he’s blown Jake. All the times have been related to sex, and Jake would like a little more than sex now. He takes control then, nipping at Bradshaw’s chin with his teeth before licking over it in what he hopes Bradshaw takes as an apology. He wonders at Bradshaw’s seemingly pliant acquiescence which isn’t his usual response, then again maybe he’s just that turned on. He always gets a lot more agreeable when he wants to come. Then again he’s likely the same.

                “You wanna put your fingers in my mouth? Let me suck them and get them nice and wet?” Jake asks, and his words are so quiet, whispers against the stubble of Bradshaw’s jaw as he presses his lip in between the words. Bradshaw lets out a high pitched whine and Jake grins; sucks a little at the pulse point in Bradshaw’s neck that he’d accidentally sucked too hard on the first time because it had driven Bradshaw wild. It had been the complete and utter bitch fit Bradshaw had thrown afterwards.

                “What do you want?” Bradshaw asks, and his breathing is coming in hard-fast pants and Jake knows he’s getting him more and more worked up.

                “I want a date Bradshaw,” Jake says evenly. In fact, he wants a hell of a lot more than that. Wants to call him Bradley, spend lazy mornings in bed with him. Learn what makes him laugh and cry. Learn how long they can make out like this before they’re properly desperate for each other.

                Bradshaw’s hands are on his face then, hands cupping his jaw and there’s a thigh being slid between his legs and holy shit. Bradshaw just completely threw the game out the window, is pulling back to look Jake in the eye.

                “You’ve got one.”

                “I’m greedy. I want more than one.”

                “You can have as many as you want.”

                Jake grins then, smug.

                “Good.”

                “Yeah. Good.”

[malestransforming]

That Time I Became a Firefighter

The screech of the sirens damn well nearly deafened Lucas. Two firetrucks careened passed him, pulling up to the smoking house just up the road he was walking along.

Ahead he saw a bright red engines stop in the middle of the road, and a dozen firefighters jump out and go to work. They were all dressed in light brown clothing, with orange and silver reflective stripes around their wrists, chest and angles. Amid the chaos, they ran around carrying ladders, hoses and other equipment. They seemed cool and calm under pressure: totally in control of themselves and without worry. Admittedly it was hard for Lucas to truly know how they seemed as many of the firefighters had their faces covered by a breathing mask, but still it was nice to imagine.

Lucas found himself paused now, standing on the sidewalk, and staring at the commotion with his jaw slightly agape.

“Pretty cool, right?” A voice called out from beside him. He turned and saw a row of firefighters standing together watching him.

“Yeah… It is,” Lucas stammered a reply. The whole scene really did feel alive with emotion, and while “cool” wasn’t exactly the best description of someone’s house burning down, being a firefighter certainly beat the excitement of Lucas’ job at the Apple store.

One of the guys stepped forward, away from the rest of them, towards Lucas. He approached with a sooted hand outside. Lucas saw he had a heavy looking metal cylinder strapped to his shoulders.

“I’m Dave,” he said.

“Lucas,” Lucas replied, shaking his hand.

Dave gestured to the people running around them. Lucas saw they were dousing the house with water. Several of them carried large, pointed poles. The damage was extensive, and the situation was dire, but all Lucas could focus on were the firefighters with their awesome equipment, incredible physiques, and amazing jobs.

“Wanna give it a go?” Dave asked.

Lucas simply nodded. It was all he had ever wanted. He wanted to be a firefighter more than anything.

The changes began instantly. Lucas’ muscles grew stronger and thicker. His jeans became tighter as his spine cracked and lengthened. Powerful biceps grew onto his arms, replacing the weak noodles he had before. All the better, considering how much weight he would need to be pulling around. The rest of his frame filled out, creating a wider, huskier and more muscled build. He was bulky and wide but he was still able to move quickly and with purpose.

In his mind, Lucas gained new knowledge about fighting fires and fire safety. Exercising and working out became the most important action in his life.

Dave stood in front, proud of the man Lucas had grown into. “You feel okay, brother?”

A dopey grin spread across Lucas' face. He absentmindedly flicked a tangle of hair out from his eyes. “Hell yeah, Cap!” Lucas responded, his voice lower and huskier now.

“Good. Go get your gear and help the guys air out the second floor.”

Lucas ran over to the truck where he knew his bunker gear was. He kicked off his shoes and shoved his feet into the black boots before pulling up the pants and hooking the suspenders over his shoulders. He tossed his bunker coat over his beefy arms and zipped it up. He grabbed his air pack and strapped it to his back, putting the shoulder straps down with a hard tug.

His SCBA air mask hung down by his legs. Lucas grabbed it and shoved it down over his head. He snapped his helmet on top and clipped his air supply into the front of the mask, breathing the oxygen with a sharp hiss from the tank on his back.

A voice came over the radio telling Lucas to join the rest of the crew at the front of the building and start pulling down debris with a pike pole. Lucas grinned, relishing the excitement of his career. He looked down at himself dressed in brown bunker gear, and ran his gloved hand up and down the rough fabric. He looked fucking amazing and he felt even better.

[jujuicykaisen]

Can you do a drabble or fic about a reader just resting against Nanami's big fat tits?

YES.

Characters: Kento Nanami

Contents: gn!reader, loving descriptions of Nanami's chesticles

Kento Nanami

The train swayed back and forth as it surged along the tracks, carrying you and hundreds of other commuters away from your offices and stores and factories back to your little boxes of peace and privacy. The day weighed on you. It hadn’t been a bad day, just a tiring one. One of those days that seem to last forever, and like the clock starts swinging backward whenever you look away from it.

Clinging to the handrail, standing at an awkward angle to avoid the flying elbow of the woman next to you as she lifted her water bottle to her mouth for the third time in the past minute, you gazed out of the window. The buildings smeared together in an abstract blur as your mind turned to one single, pure, crystallised image for comfort.

A muscular chest, straining the buttons of a crisp, teal blue shirt.

Kento…

That was what you needed. That was your goal. The shining beacon that would lead you home like a candle in the darkness. 

Nanami’s tits. 

You alighted from the train with a sense of renewed vigour, striding from the station and along the nice, suburban streets. Neighbours, who knew you as “that nice couple”, nodded at you as you passed. You jerked your chin up and down in the rote movement of social niceties, already fishing in your pocket for your house keys. 

Nanami would be home by now. He always texted you on the rare occasion he had overtime. The man was thoughtful like that. He was probably sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, his tie removed and the top button of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. 

Your key scraped against the lock before you managed to wedge it in, twisting it and pushing the door open at the same time. You shuffled into the genkan, dropping your bag, hanging up your coat, tossing your keys into the dish on the hallway table for that specific purpose. You shook your public armour off like a dog coming out of a muddy puddle, and padded up into the house.

“Honey?” His voice echoed toward you. You heard the clink of one of the cut crystal glasses against the table, and knew he was about to get up and come to greet you.

“Don’t move!” you said, barrelling through the living room door. “Stay right there.”

Nanami raised an eyebrow at you, his fingers still splayed around the rim of a whiskey tumbler. He looked exactly as you’d imagined him, right down to the colour of the shirt he’d ironed that morning. His book was still held in one hand, finger tucked between the pages to mark his place. 

“Is everything all right?” 

“Yes,” you said, stumbling toward the couch, your gaze laser-focused on his shirt, on the landscape of muscle beneath it. 

Crawling onto the couch, onto his lap, you buried your face against those heavy pads of pectoral muscle, made smooth by the layer of high quality cotton shirt buttoned over the top. The warmth of his flesh seeped through the cloth, soaking into you. Nuzzling into his collarbones, you let loose a gusty sigh. This was exactly what you needed. 

Nanami stared down at the top of your head, even as one of his arms moved to wrap around your waist, holding you securely. He waited a moment for further explanation. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” you reassured him, rubbing your cheek against his firm chest. “This is exactly what I needed.”

Nanami watched you rub your face against him like a kitten, still somewhat bemused. He lifted a hand, the blond hairs on his arm glinting in the light, and ran his fingers over your head, smoothing your hair. If you were going to act like a cat, he might as well treat you like one. You let out a low hum of contentment, listening to the steady thud of Nanami’s heartbeat through his shirt. 

“Mind if I carry on reading?”

“Nuh-uh. Carry on.”

“Mm, thanks.” He picked up the book, holding it open in one hand, returning to his reading. His other hand ran slowly up and down your back, the heel of his palm running against your spine. It paused briefly. “Don’t motorboat me this time.”

“...no promises.”

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: A fight against hunters leaves the group scattered. In the chaos, split-second decisions force a separation, and the future feels more uncertain than ever.

a/n: feeding you a nice long chapter today :)

When you open your eyes, it takes a moment to remember where you are. The room is unfamiliar, dim, and quiet except for the faint rustle of movement nearby. Green eyes hover above you, and Ellie’s hand shakes you gently awake.

“Hey,” she whispers. “Time to go.”

You sit up carefully, your muscles stiff and sore. A dull ache pulses through your leg, a reminder of yesterday’s chaos. When you glance down, you notice something different—your bandage is clean, the rough makeshift fabric replaced with crisp white gauze.

Your brows knit together as you run your fingers lightly over the dressing. It’s snug, expertly done—nothing like the hurried wraps you were doing yourself. Confusion furrows your brow, and your gaze drifts to Joel, standing by the window. He’s quiet, watching the street below, his posture as unreadable as ever.

Then you notice his arm. Wrapped in the same gauze, neat and secure.

“Had some extra,” Henry’s voice calls softly from the doorway.

Your head swivels toward him. He leans against the frame, his casual demeanor almost out of place in the tension-filled room. He catches your glance flicking between him and Joel, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Gave the man my roll to patch you up while you were asleep too,” Henry adds, his voice light but teasing.

Your stomach flips, and heat rises to your cheeks as the realization sinks in. Joel had touched you—your leg, your wound—while you were unconscious. It wasn’t anything inappropriate, you know that, but the idea of him tending to you sends a nervous flutter through your chest.

Your fingers hover over the bandage again, your face warming further. “Thanks,” you mumble, your voice almost a whisper.

Henry waves it off with a smirk. “Don’t mention it,” he says, his gaze darting to Joel briefly before he steps back into the hall. “We leave soon, so I’d get your things ready.”

As Henry’s footsteps fade to talk with Ellie and Sam who linger in the corner talking about some comic books, you look back at Joel. He hasn’t turned from the window, his broad shoulders rigid as he keeps watch.

“You didn’t have to,” you say, your words shy and hesitant.

Joel shifts slightly, his profile barely visible in the dim light. “Wasn’t about havin’ to,” he says gruffly, still not looking at you. “Bandage needed changin'. That’s all.”

His tone is clipped, and you can’t tell if he’s brushing off the act or trying to make it less than it was. You nod quickly, your face burning, and lower your hand from the bandage. The thought of him working so carefully while you slept is something you can’t quite make yourself process at the moment.

“Let’s get goin’,” Joel says, his voice breaking the quiet and pulling you from your thoughts.

“Right, yeah,” you reply quickly, a little too fast, your words fumbling over themselves. You move to stand, your body stiff from the restless sleep, but before you can push yourself up, you see movement in the corner of your eye.

Joel’s hand.

He’s holding it out toward you, steady and open, the roughness of his calloused palm catching the faint light.

You freeze, your eyes flickering between his hand and his face. His expression is as unreadable as ever, his gaze steady but impassive. There’s no impatience, no insistence—just the quiet expectation that you’ll take it.

For a moment, you hesitate, unsure what to do with the gesture. It feels strangely intimate, his hand just waiting there like that, but you can’t bring yourself to brush it off. Slowly, you lift your own hand, placing it in his.

His grip is firm but careful, his calloused fingers wrapping securely around yours as he pulls you to your feet with an ease that makes it seem like you weigh nothing at all. The warmth of his hand lingers even after he lets go, and you glance away quickly, hoping the flush on your face isn’t as obvious as it feels.

“Thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel doesn’t respond, already turning toward the window to check the street below. When Henry calls your name, you finally grab your bag and head to the door where the three of them are waiting, and Joel follows behind you without another word.

The stairwell creaks faintly under your boots as the group descends, the only sounds the quiet shuffle of feet and the occasional clink of gear. Joel is at the front, moving carefully but with purpose, Henry and Sam following behind. The dim light from a few broken windows casts long shadows on the cracked concrete walls.

When you reach a landing, Joel stops abruptly and turns, his eyes locking onto you. “Give us a sec,” he says to Henry, jerking his chin toward the stairs.

Henry hesitates for a moment, glancing between the two of you, but Joel’s tone leaves no room for argument. “C’mon, Sam, Ellie.” he mutters, leading them down the steps, “We’ll be at the bottom of the stairwell.”

You shift awkwardly under Joel’s gaze, unsure of what’s coming. His face is set, his dark eyes intense in a way that makes your stomach twist—not from fear, but something heavier, something that makes the air between you feel charged.

“I need you to promise me something,” Joel says, his voice low but firm.

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“If anything happens,” he begins, his tone deliberate, “if I get shot at—or worse, if I get killed—you will take Ellie. You’ll get her to the Fireflies.”

Your throat tightens as his words sink in. “Joel…”

“Promise me,” he says again, firmer this time. His eyes don’t leave yours, and there’s something beneath his usual scowl, something more, almost pleading that roots you in place.

His words send a wave of unease through you. Your mind races—what was so important about Ellie? Why was she worth risking everything? And what had Joel been promised in return for getting her to the Fireflies? What kind of payment was he counting on?

But Joel’s expression doesn’t waver. He’s waiting, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge your hesitation.

“I promise,” you say finally, your voice quiet but steady.

Joel doesn’t relax. If anything, his jaw tightens further. “And I mean it,” he repeats. “Because the stunt you pulled back at the apartment building—when I got grazed—you can’t do that shit again. We can’t afford to slow down. You gotta be smart out here. No damn heroics.”

The words sting more than you want to admit, but you nod. “I understand.”

Joel steps closer, his voice dropping even lower. “This ain’t about trustin’ you or not. It’s about makin’ sure Ellie gets where she needs to go. That’s all that matters. You got me?”

“I got it, Joel.” you say firmly, trying to mask the tightness in your chest.

He nods once, his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he turns back toward the stairs. “Good,” he mutters, already moving down the steps.

You follow silently, your thoughts churning. Whatever this was—whatever Ellie was—it was bigger than you had realized. She wasn’t just some big-wig’s daughter, wasn’t just some kid who needed smuggling across the country. There was something they weren’t telling you. And for Joel to ask you to take over if something happened to him… It made your resolve solidify.

You weren’t just going to prove yourself useful—you were going to prove to Joel that he could count on you.

Down the stairs and into an open space, the air feels colder, sharper. The room is hollowed out—windows shattered, debris scattered across the floor. Up ahead, a faint orange glow flickers, and your heart clenches as you see them.

A couple of men are huddled around a makeshift fire, their voices low but carrying in the silence. They’re armed, their weapons within reach, though they seem relaxed, focused on warming their hands against the flames.

Adrenaline courses through you at the sight, but unease creeps in just as fast. You can’t stop the questions from swirling in your mind. Who were these men? Did they have families waiting for them? People counting on them to survive another day?

But Henry’s words echo in your mind: They don’t keep kids around here. The thought tightens in your chest. What kind of people did that make them?

Joel stops, turning back toward you and Ellie. His eyes meet yours, and without a word, the message is clear: Stay.

You nod, gripping your rifle tighter as Joel and Henry crouch low, moving silently toward the group. Sam sticks close to you, his small frame barely shifting as he mirrors your stillness.

Joel and Henry reach the men, their movements swift and precise. In unison, they grab two of them from behind, locking them into tight chokeholds. The faint sound of their struggles carries in the room—sharp gasps, the scrape of boots against the ground—but it’s over before it can escalate. Both men slump to the floor, motionless.

“Listen,” you whisper, your voice low as you crouch beside Ellie and Sam. Your eyes meet Ellie’s first, then shift to Sam’s. “There are a lot of them out here, okay? I need to back them up.”

Ellie’s bright green eyes narrow slightly, and you can see her processing your words, her jaw tightening. Sam looks to Ellie, then back to you, his expression tense but determined.

“You two stick to me like glue,” you add firmly, your tone leaving no room for argument, “I don’t want to have to be more worried about you than I already am. So stay low and stay close.”

Ellie nods, her small hand already gripping her knife tightly. Sam gives a quick, shaky nod, his eyes darting toward the faint glow of the fire ahead.

You adjust the strap of your rifle, your heart pounding as you prepare to move. The fear is there, always just beneath the surface, but you push it down. Joel’s trust in you still lingers in your mind, a steadying weight that grounds you.

All five of you scoot outside, beneath the guard rails and behind cars. God, there was a lot of you. Easy to be seen by the spot light the hunters use up ahead at the gate. Luckily, they seem well distracted by the sound of infected coming from behind you. The sound brings a shiver to your skin, but when you turn, the clicker is already being shot down by them. As long as they stayed distracted enough, you might be able to sneak around. 

“Change of plans,” you whisper sharply to Ellie, your voice low.

Joel’s head snaps toward you, his eyes narrowing. Even in the dark, you can feel his glare boring into you.

You barely glance at him, instead nodding toward the generator next to the spotlight. “I’m going to sneak up and around to that generator. Get rid of their spotlight so they can’t see us. You stay back here, out of sight.”

Ellie hisses your name, her tone a mix of frustration and fear. “That’s a terrible idea!”

“Plans change, Ellie,” you cut her off, your voice firm.

“There’s no goddamn way you’re going—” Joel starts, his voice low and furious, but you’re already moving.

You hear him curse under his breath as you vault over the guardrail, ducking low behind a broken-down police vehicle a few paces ahead. The cool night air bites at your skin as you crouch, your breath coming quick and shallow.

You slip between the cars, staying crouched low as the spotlight sweeps back and forth across the open ground. Each step feels painstakingly slow, the sound of distant shouts and the hum of the generator masking your quiet movements. The closer you get, the louder the hum becomes, vibrating faintly in your chest as the cold metal of the cars presses against your palms.

You pause behind a rusted truck, glancing toward the generator just a few yards ahead. The spotlight looms overhead, its mechanical whirring almost as loud as the blood rushing in your ears. Timing your movement with the beam’s sweep, you dart out of cover, sprinting the last few steps to the generator.

It’s bigger up close, the machinery humming with life as you search for a way to kill it. Your hands fumble briefly before finding the right lever. With a deep breath, you pull it down hard. The generator sputters, the spotlight flickering once before plunging the area into darkness.

For half a second, there’s silence. Then chaos erupts.

Shouts fill the air as men leap from their guard tower, their boots slamming against the ground. You duck instinctively, the muzzle flash of their guns lighting up the night as they fire in every direction, trying to locate the threat.

“Over here!” one of them shouts, his voice closer than you expected.

You raise your rifle, your hands trembling as you aim toward the figures rushing toward you. The first shot cracks through the air, catching a man in the shoulder and sending him spinning to the ground. Another shot follows, but the men are faster now, their shapes blurring in the dark as they close in.

Before you can fire again, one of them barrels into you, slamming the rifle from your hands. It clatters to the ground as you stumble back, the man grabbing your arm and yanking you forward.

“Got her!” he shouts, but the words barely leave his mouth before a sharp crack splits the air.

The man jerks suddenly, his grip loosening as he collapses to the ground. Behind him, Ellie stands, her small frame steady as she lowers her pistol. Her face is pale, her expression hard, but her hands don’t waver.

“Ellie!” you gasp, scrambling to grab your rifle as another hunter charges toward her.

Before you can act, gunfire erupts from the shadows. Joel and Henry emerge, their movements quick and precise as they take down the remaining men. Joel’s expression is unreadable in the dark, but the sharp intensity of his gaze is unmistakable as he moves closer.

“Sam!” you shout, spotting the boy crouched behind a car. You sprint toward him, sliding into cover beside him and Ellie. “You okay?”

Sam nods quickly, his wide eyes darting around, but he stays low. Ellie leans against the car, her breathing ragged as she reloads her gun.

The gunfire is deafening as you press yourself against the hood of the car, using it as a shield. Ellie and Sam crouch low behind you, their small forms huddled together as chaos unfolds around you. Your hands grip the rifle tightly, the metal cool against your sweaty palms.

Leaning forward just enough to aim, you fire over the hood, the kickback jarring your shoulder. The first shot goes wide, pinging harmlessly against the building behind the hunters. You grit your teeth, steadying yourself, and fire again.

This time, you hit one of the men in the leg. He stumbles, his shout drowned out by the roar of gunfire. Another hunter rushes forward, but before you can aim again, a bullet slams into the car’s hood, making you flinch and duck instinctively.

“Damn it,” you mutter under your breath, your heart hammering as you peek up again. You fire a few more rounds, missing one, grazing another, until a sudden click from your rifle makes your stomach drop.

Out of ammo.

Panic rises, but you shove it down, scanning the ground. One of the fallen hunters lies a few feet away, his weapon just within reach. You glance back at Ellie and Sam.

“Stay down!” you whisper, your voice sharp over the fight, before darting forward to grab the gun.

The rifle feels heavier in your hands, unfamiliar, but you load it quickly, your fingers trembling slightly as adrenaline courses through you. You swing back toward the fight, leaning over the car’s hood again to fire.

Joel and Henry are moving now, their shots precise as they take down the remaining men. The chaos begins to die down, the shouting fading until only the distant crackling fire and roaring in your ears remains.

You lower the rifle slowly, your breathing ragged as you scan the area. The hunters are down, their bodies scattered across the open ground. For a brief moment, silence settles, thick and uneasy.

Joel storms toward you, his expression thunderous. His boots crunch against the gravel as he closes the distance, his rifle slung over his shoulder.

“What the hell were you thinkin’?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

You blink, your pulse still racing. Before you can even respond, his voice thunders over the open space.

“You just had to go ahead, didn’t you?” he snaps, “What if they’d seen you before you got that damn generator? You'd be dead in a second, and for what? To show off?”

“Hey, man,” Henry cuts in, stepping forward, his hands raised in a gesture of calm. “She did us a favor—”

Joel doesn’t even glance at Henry, holding up a hand to silence him.

You square your shoulders, planting your feet firmly despite the knot twisting in your stomach. “We needed that generator off, Joel. It was the only thing keeping us from getting the upper hand.”

Joel’s jaw tightens, his dark eyes boring into yours. “And you thought runnin’ out there alone was the answer?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” you shoot back, your voice rising slightly. “We got the jump on them because of it. If I hadn’t turned it off, we’d still be stuck back there, hiding like sitting ducks.”

Joel steps closer, his presence looming. “You don’t get to make those calls. Not out here. Not when it risks everyone else.”

Your chin lifts defiantly, even as your heart pounds in your chest. “I made the call because someone had to. And it worked.”

The silence that follows is taut, his glare locked on yours. For a moment, you think he’s going to keep arguing, but then he exhales sharply, running a hand down his face.

“Let’s move,” he mutters, his tone tight as he turns away.

Henry gives you a small, knowing grin as Joel moves towards the gate. “Gotta say, I admire the guts,” he says under his breath, his voice light but genuine.

You shake your head, your heart still hammering from the fight. “Let’s go,” you reply quietly, glancing back at Ellie and Sam. They follow closely as you fall into step behind Joel, his tension palpable even as he moves with purpose. You know he’s still furious, but deep down, you hope he knows you were right. He has to.

The gate looms ahead, a hulking slab of metal barring your way to freedom. Joel doesn’t hesitate, grabbing the latch and wrenching it open with a grunt. The sharp screech of metal echoes in the night as he pulls the gate wide enough for all of you to slip through.

But before anyone can take a step, a deafening roar erupts behind you.

The turret.

You whip around, the sight of the monstrous truck barreling through the streets making your stomach drop. Its spotlight sweeps across the open area, catching all of you in its glaring beam.

“Go! Go! GO!” Joel yells, his voice booming as he shoves you through the gate.

You stumble forward, nearly tripping as you slam into Henry. Behind you, Joel heaves the gate shut, and Henry throws down a heavy metal lock. It clangs into place, but the sound feels futile against the thunderous approach of the turret.

“We have to move!” Henry shouts, already tugging at Sam’s arm as the group takes off running.

The five of you sprint into the open street, your boots pounding against the cracked asphalt. The only cover in sight is a massive 18-wheeler, its rusted body wedged in the opening where another checkpoint gate used to be.

“The truck!” Ellie yells, pointing toward it as all of you make a mad dash.

The sound of the turret firing a burst of rounds hits the air, splintering the ground just behind you. You don’t stop, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the five of you dive for the cover of the truck.

Joel motions sharply to Henry. “Get Sam up first!”

Henry grabs Sam, lifting him onto the hood of the truck. You’re next, clambering up awkwardly, the cold metal biting into your hands. Joel remains below, his rifle slung across his back as he boosts Henry up.

“Move!” Joel barks, glancing back as the turret crashes through the gate with a deafening roar.

The impact shakes the truck violently. You barely hold your footing as you climb onto the trailer’s roof, the jagged edges of the broken gate still rattling in your ears.

“Ellie! Come on!” you shout, panic lacing your voice as you see Joel helping her scramble onto the hood.

But before Joel can hoist himself up, the turret’s gun swings toward the truck, its barrel glowing ominously.

“Get down!” Henry shouts, pulling you toward the far side of the trailer.

“No!” you yell, wrenching against his grip. Your eyes lock on the other two. Ellie has fallen back to the side of the truck’s cab, Joel’s hands keeping her down and low.

“We don’t have time!” Henry snaps, his voice desperate. With one last sharp tug, he drags you over the edge. You slip, the ground rushing up to meet you as you tumble down the far side of the truck.

The landing knocks the wind out of you, and for a moment, all you hear is the distant roar of the turret and Henry’s hurried voice urging you forward.

“I’m sorry!” Henry shouts, his grip firm as he pulls you away from the truck, keeping you low and out of sight.

“Joel!” you scream, scrambling to get back up. But Henry yanks you down, his face pale and set with determination.

“They’ll be fine!” he insists, his voice shaky but resolute. “We need to go!”

Your chest tightens as you hear Joel’s voice shouting something over the chaos, but his words are swallowed by the roar of the turret. You glance back, your heart lurching at the sight of Joel and Ellie crouched behind the cab, pinned by the onslaught.

“Come on!” Henry pleads, dragging you further into the shadows.

Your legs feel like lead as you move reluctantly with him, your mind racing with fear and guilt. The thought of being separated from Joel and Ellie gnaws at you, but the noise and chaos leave no room for hesitation.

Henry pulls you around the corner of the truck, out of sight of the turret. “We’ll regroup,” he says, his voice firm but cracking slightly. “They’ll be okay.”

You bite back the panic clawing at your throat, forcing yourself to follow as Henry leads you into the darkness.

Henry leads the way down a narrow path that winds below the large bridge, the sound of crashing waves growing louder with each step. The air is damp and heavy with the scent of salt and decay, the shadows of the towering structure above swallowing everything in darkness.

You keep low, every muscle in your body tense as your eyes dart around, searching for movement. The distant shouts of hunters echo faintly from above, but the noise is far enough now that it doesn’t feel immediate. Still, the adrenaline hasn’t left your system, and your heart pounds with every step.

When the two of you finally reach the beach, Henry pulls you behind a cluster of jagged rocks, motioning for you to stay low.

“Safe for now,” he whispers, glancing over his shoulder.

You don’t reply, your chest heaving as you drop onto the cold sand. Your leg throbs in protest, the wound biting sharply with every movement.

“You okay?” Henry asks, his voice quiet but tinged with concern.

You snap your head toward him, your jaw tightening. “No,” you say flatly, your voice sharper than you intend.

Henry leans back slightly, raising his hands. “Hey, I get it. You’re mad.”

“Mad?” you hiss, keeping your voice low. “You dragged me from them! Joel and Ellie are still stuck back there, and we don’t even know if they’re alive!”

Henry’s expression shifts, guilt flashing across his face before he covers it with that same disarming grin. “Look, I did what I had to do. You were out in the open. That tank would’ve shot you down if I hadn’t pulled you out.”

You shake your head, running a hand through your hair as frustration churns in your chest. “You should’ve let me stay. I could’ve helped them.”

“And you could’ve gotten yourself killed,” Henry counters, his voice firm. “You think they would’ve thanked me for that?”

The mention of their names sends a pang through you, sharp and bitter. You look away, your gaze falling to the waves lapping at the shore. The moonlight barely catches on the water, and the faint sound of the sea feels like a cruel contrast to the chaos you left behind.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. Sam sits quietly by his brother, prodding a stick into the ground.

You close your eyes, your fingers curling into the sand as you let out a shaky breath. You’ve never prayed much, but in the suffocating quiet, you find yourself murmuring something—anything—to whoever might be listening. A plea for their safety. To just keep them alive.

“Hey,” Henry says softly, breaking the silence. You open your eyes to see him leaning closer, his tone lighter now. “I’ll admit it—you’re tough. That whole generator thing? Ballsy. I like that.”

You glare at him, your patience wearing thin. “Seriously?”

Henry holds up his hands, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What? I’m just saying—you’ve got guts. Most people would’ve frozen back there, but not you.” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to something softer, almost teasing. “It’s impressive. Kinda badass, really.”

You blink at him, caught off guard. “Uh… thanks?” you reply, your tone uncertain, the words coming out more like a question than gratitude.

He chuckles, leaning back against the rock with an easy confidence. “You’re not used to hearing that, huh?”

“What?” you ask, frowning slightly.

“Compliments,” he says, his grin widening. “I’m guessing Joel’s not exactly handing them out.”

You look away, your cheeks warming as you focus on the waves instead of his face. “I don’t… I mean, this isn’t the time for that.”

Henry shrugs, the movement casual. “What better time? Life’s short out here. Gotta say what you’re thinking when you can.”

You glance at him, confused by how relaxed he seems. “Shouldn’t we be worried about them?” you ask, your voice quieter now, tinged with frustration.

His grin falters slightly, but only for a moment. “I am,” he says, his tone still light but more subdued. “But worrying doesn’t change anything. Joel’s a tank, and Ellie’s got more fight in her than half the adults I’ve met. They’ll make it.”

His confidence in them feels almost dismissive, and it stings more than you expect. “You don’t know that,” you say, your voice tightening as you wrap your arms around your knees.

Henry watches you for a moment, his expression softening. “Hey,” he says, his tone quieter now. “They’re gonna be okay.”

You nod, your throat tightening.

“They’re lucky, you know,” he says, leaning closer. “Having someone like you watching their backs. Bet Joel doesn’t realize how much he depends on you until you’re not there.”

You blink, his words catching you off guard. Your cheeks heat, and you glance away quickly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble.

Henry chuckles, his voice warm and teasing. “You’re cute when you’re all flustered, you know that?”

“I’m not—” you start, but the words falter as you shake your head, unable to find a response.

The ache in your leg pulls you back to the present, grounding you in the reality of the situation. You shift slightly, wincing as the movement tugs at the wound.

“Here,” Henry says, his voice softer as he reaches into his bag. He pulls out a bottle of water and offers it to you. “Drink. You’ll feel better.”

You hesitate, but the look on his face is genuine enough that you take the bottle, muttering a quiet “thanks” as you twist the cap.

The silence stretches between you again, but this time, Henry doesn’t push. He leans back against the rock, watching the faint waves crash against the shore. You sip the water slowly, your thoughts still lingering on Joel and Ellie and the uncertainty of whether you’ll see them again.

[xoblondie]

Smoke Trails

TW: Brothers bsf! Theo, 18+, oral, p in v, good ole vanilla sexy time.

The swirl of smoke entrails flow through the air as the freshly lit cigarette pulls back from your lips. The corridor was empty, and the moon shone from the grand window at the other end, creating a soft glow. You knew you could be caught at any moment, as it was after curfew, but you needed to relax after a long day of studying. As you took another drag, the sound of footsteps behind you fills your ears.

As you turn, trying to hide from the possibility of Snape catching, you sigh in relief as Theodore Nott approached you. Him and your brother, Mattheo, have been best friends for years and as a kid you had a major crush on him. In his teenage years though, he became a playboy and ignored that you even existed but you knew he would snitch to Mattheo. With widened eyes you turn and begin to walk away from him, forgetting about the cigarette still between your fingers. But as you do so, your shoulders are held back and Theo moved to stand in front of you.

“The fuck is this y/n?” Theo grabs the cig from your hand and held it up like he was scolding you.

“What the hell, give it back.” You ignored his question. Theo was always bitchy towards you, and you always figured it was because you were his best mates annoying little sister.

“Did you steal these from Mattheo?” Theo spat. He reached towards your hoodie pocket with his other hand where the freshly open pack of cigarettes sat and put them in his pant pocket.

“No they’re mine. Now give them back Theo I’m not in the mood for this.” His gaze shifted as he threw the cigarette on the ground and squished it beneath his shoe.

“What the hell is your problem-“, your protest was interrupted by Theo pining your shoulders to the wall caging you in with his frame.

“My problem sweetheart is that I don’t want to be responsible when your brother kicks your ass, and mine for knowing about this.” You can’t help but to let out a sarcastic laugh at his scolding.

“You have no place to scold me for this when you and Mattheo are smoking every damn time I see you out of class!” You raise your voice slightly which causes him to grip your shoulders harder. You’ve never seen him like this before, and you could feel yourself slowly letting the smell of his cologne intoxicate your senses.

“That’s different,” he growls, “You’re too young for this.”

“Theo I’m not even a year younger than you and you certainly don’t get to tell me what to do.” You push against his chest trying to get him away from you. The push was weak and a blush began spreading across the apples of your cheeks as you felt the muscle beneath his sweater. You knew he saw the blush as his anger slowly turned to arrogance, like a switch was flipped within him.

“Yeah? Cause from the looks of it, I am.” He smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear, “And it’s looking like you’re enjoying it.” You look away and scoff.

“Fuck you, Nott.” You mumble out.

“You’d like that too much.” He let go of his grasp on your shoulders.

“I catch you with one of these again, I won’t be so nice. I’m sure Mattheo would really giddy to find out about this.” He adds, as he takes a step back, giving you the chance to walk away from him.

“You’re such an asshole.” You mumble under your breath a little too loudly as you slip away from him and head back to your room.

~

It was a few days later and Snape had been giving you a hard time in potions for not paying attention. The events of the other night had left you confused, as the past few days Theo acted like the whole thing never happened. Your childhood feelings for him were forcing their way back into your mind, as you mentally tried burying them again. However Theo’s dumb face kept plaguing you, making you more and more frustrated.

To clear your head you sneak out of your room and to the astronomy tower, careful not to get caught by teachers or prefects. It was late and the castle was empty as you crept through the corridors. When you made it to the tower, you sat against a beam, lighting a cigarette and feeling the relaxation as the smoke filled your senses. All the feelings Theo left you with coming back as you started to relax into your own thoughts. You let out a relaxed breath, exhaling the smoke before your wrist was grabbed and you were pulled from your seated position, causing your cigarette to fall.

“What the hell Y/n.” Theo sounded irritated and his Italian accent thicker from the late of the night.

“Are you stalking me?” You say as you struggle against his grip.

“It’s not fucking hard to follow you when you sneak out at 2 in the morning.” You had never checked if you had been followed as you left the slytherin common room. And Theo had clearly saw you sneaking out.

“I thought I told you I better not see you doing this again?”

“Why do you even care? I don’t belong to you Nott. And don’t say some bullshit about my brother because I know he doesn’t give a care in the world if I smoke.” Theo had a contemplative look in his eyes as he mumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch.

Before you have a chance to yell at him again his lips crash onto yours and his hands drop your wrists. You could feel your mental walls break down as you kiss him back, the kiss turning into a desperate make out session. His hand began wandering to your hips as he pushed you up against the wall for the second time, causing you to let out a small gasp. His mouth left yours and attached itself to your neck, nipping at it and leaving small bites behind.

“You drive me so fucking crazy.” He claims in between kisses and you can’t help but let out a soft moan.

“I just want to bend you over and fuck the attitude out of you.” His hands move down to your barely covered ass, your pyjama shorts giving no protection to his rough hands.

“Theo,” you gasp. Hearing his name he paused for a moment and he squeezed your ass a little tighter.

“I know you want me just as much as I want you darling.” He whispers, “I’ve seen how you look at me, you’re not as discrete as you think you are.”

His hands leave your ass, and his left hand trails to your jaw, softly making you look at him. Your cheeks a deep crimson, you had very little experience with guys and the way he was whispering in your ear left you shy as you looked into his burning eyes.

“We can’t, he’d kill you.” You manage to protest, trying to have some sense despite your mind telling you to shut up and let him continue.

“He’ll never know.” He kisses you again as he slides your shirt up and off you, revealing a lacey bra.

“Cara Mia… did you pick this thinking about me today.” The cold makes you shiver slightly, as your exposed skin is hit by the night air. His accent was thick from lust, and intoxicating your last bit of judgement.

“Theo.” You whine again, your panties damp from his actions.

“So impatient.” He kisses you again and you bring your hands to the hem of his shirt, your fingers grazing his skin. He broke the kiss again to take his shirt off. His hands wrapped around your waist as he pulled you towards a bench, illuminated by the moon and sits you down on it. In a swift motion he glides your thin cotton shorts down your thighs, leaving you in just your panties.

“You’re so pretty like this baby.” He voice is low as he whispers sweet nothings to you. He moves to kneel in front of you, running his hands up your thighs and playing with the thin fabric of your underwear.

His fingers move closer to the damp fabric of your underwear, rubbing it slightly in a teasing motion.

“You’re already soaked.” A smirk forms on his face as he pushes the fabric to the side, his mouth meeting your clit. A soft moan escaped your lips as his tongue played with your folds. Thighs squeezing the sides of his head as pleasure built within your stomach. As he tasted your core, curious fingers slowly slide inside you. You let out a moan as they start pumping, quickly approaching you limit.

“Theo I… too much I’m close.” His eyes light up and increases his speed, looking at you as you come undone by his actions. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your climax, your orgasm shattering through you as his tongue never leaves your bulb.

Slowly he pulls away and his fingers slide out of you, the absence making you more needy.

“You’re doing so good, Cara Mia. You taste so sweet for me.”

“Theo please…” you let out a whiny moan, missing the contact he was making with you.

“Please what?”

A wave of embarrassment flushes over you, as your hands move to cover your blushing cheeks. A soft chuckle echoes from Theo’s throat as he stands, toying with the band of his pyjama pants.

“Don’t be shy now, is this okay?” The clothing quickly slips down his waist, exposing his length to you. You nod your head, looking up to him.

“You gotta use your words baby.” His hand strokes his shaft in a jerking motion as he positions himself between your legs.

“Yes.” Stumbles from your mouth, in a shaky anticipated tone. A soft laugh erupts from his mouth and he leans down to kiss your mouth in a soft and reassuring way.

“Let me know when if it’s too much.” He whispers against your mouth as he slowly begins to fit himself within you. A loud gasp spirals out of your mouth as you clench him tighter. The feeling of pain hits you first, but you revel in the feeling as it quickly turns into a form of pleasure. You give Theo the nod of approval and he starts to move, creating a symphony of moans and skin connecting to skin. His movements were slow but deep as he moved your thighs in order to bury himself further and further into you. Around you the whole tower seemed to be frozen in time as you two melted into one another, learning each other’s bodies and matching movements.

“Theo I’m close.” You whine out, earning a low chuckle in response.

“Me too, Cara Mia.” His words spilled out in a rough growl. He leaned down to kiss you again, his movements becoming rougher with each hit. His change of pace had your body racing, seconds from finishing. And you let out a whine to let him know that.

“Go ahead baby, you deserve this.” He whispered, sending chills down your body as your hips rocked. The flow of your orgasm filling the rest of your senses from the pressure of the cool down. You had never experienced such an intense orgasm, as Theo fucked you through it. It wasn’t long before Theo met his own finish line, pulling out of you to paint your stomach with his release. Quickly grabbing his wand, he cleaned you up as he admired his work and the view below him.

“Fuck Theo.” You broke the silence.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response, not breaking eye contact with with you.

“That- that was amazing, but we can’t do this again.” You bite your lips anxiously as the realization of what you had just started became a pit of anxiety in your stomach.

“Cut the crap, Cara Mia.” He laughed, “Your brother will never find out. And you aren’t getting rid of me.”

He stated, as his hand softly grabbed your jaw.

“Plus, who said I was done with you tonight…”

A/N: smut is so hard to write I’ve been like struggle bus-ing this for so long. Anyways am I back? No clue yet! But can’t let my pretties down! I have a job interview in a couple days, and might have a date!!!