#AND GETTING DISTRACTED BY EVERYTHING ELSE

[yeosatinyngz]

(rules anon) I was just wondering if you could do something similar to your forgot your bday ask u got? but they forgot your anniversary bc they were hanging out with the Mc? hurt and comfort or hurt and no comfort whatever you decide (but u totes don't have to do this tho if it makes you uncomfortable!)

I apologize for the delay, I was bombarded with school work and studying but I’m finally done with the semester and have the time to write your request, hope you like it! <3

THEY FORGET YOUR ANNIVERSARY

↳Fem! Non MC Reader | Angst w/ comfort | NOT PROOFREAD

Lies were the very thing you were feeding yourself with when you heard no response from your partner, cause surely there was no way he had forgotten the anniversary of when you both got together.

You sent out your usual good morning text to him but many hours have passed by to the point where the sun was currently setting. You had your message chat with him opened, staring at it hoping it will somehow lead to him miraculously messaging you back. But to no avail, your text remained unanswered.

You release a deep sigh and close your phone. You needed to distract your mind off of your current situation so you decided to go outside for a walk to clear your head. You were enjoying the breeze until you heard a familiar laugh, the laugh that belonged to your beloved. 

You turned around to see him walking alongside his colleague, mc. They looked so happy and perfect together, as if they were destined to be together. Oh, you thought to yourself while your heart shattered into a million pieces. You couldn’t bear to witness the scene before you anymore so you quickly left.

You made it back home and slammed the door shut. That’s when everything you held back in you just came falling apart. Your body trembled as your legs gave out on you, you landed on the floor with a thud as the tears started to roll down your eyes. You don’t even know how long you were crying until the door opened with the very man you were despairing over. 

“Honey I’m home-” That’s when he realized the current state you were in, he quickly rushed over to check up on you, “What’s wrong my love?” He asks so softly while his hand reaches out to attempt to wipe away your tears. You were quick to smack his hand away and turned your head away from him. 

Shakily letting out a breath of air, you turn back to look him straight into his eyes with fury, firmly declaring, “Let’s break up.” His eyes immediately widened as he frantically grabbed your hands. “Please don’t say that, at least tell me why.” He looked at you with those dangerous puppy dog eyes of his that were brimming with tears.

You scoffed and yanked your hands away from his, “Isn’t forgetting our anniversary and hanging out with another girl reason enough?” He goes quiet and you can’t help but let out a bitter laugh, “You got your reason, now leave.” 

You couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore and you were ready to get up but he pulled you down towards him, tightly wrapping you into his embrace. “Hey! What are you doing?! Let go of me!” You protest as you squirm in his arms. “Please,” He lets out weakly, “Just listen to me.” 

Seeing that you weren’t protesting anymore, Xavier continued on, “While I have no excuse for forgetting our anniversary, I was only with mc because we were assigned a mission together and were just catching up afterwards.” “You looked a little too happy, you were giggling with her and all”  you huffed. “She was teasing me about you and saying how cute we were together. You should know that I have eyes on no one else but you.”

“And yet you forgot our anniversary.” “...There’s no arguing that, I’m sorry.” He truly looked so sad and his signature puppy dog eyes were back and working its magic on you, “Please let me make it up to you.” You sigh, giving in to his pouty state, “Alright” He immediately brightened from this word alone “But you will have to do your best because you are still not forgiven.” “I promise!”

He kept his promise as he surprised you the very next day with a beautiful arrangement of flowers (that he harassed Jeremiah to help him with over night, poor dude does not get paid enough), spoiling you with all of your favorite food (he wanted to cook and bake everything himself but we all know why he decided to order delivery instead), gifting you a matching set of necklace (His had your initial while yours had an X), and of course caring to all your needs.

You decided to go visit Rafayel instead of just waiting around for a response that you won’t be getting anytime soon. However, once you got to his studio you came to realize that he wasn’t home either. Strange, you thought to yourself. Where could he be at this time? 

The only person that could possibly know your boyfriend’s whereabouts was Thomas so you went ahead and gave him a call. To your luck, he was quick to pick up, “Sorry to bother you Thomas but do you happen to know where Rafayel is?” “I’m not exactly sure where he is right now but I remember mc saying she was going to pick him up.” “Oh…thanks for letting me know.” “Yeah no problem.” He says while you quickly say bye to him and hang up the call.

It took everything in you to not lose your mind right now. The grip you had on your phone was so intense it probably wasn’t far from being broken into pieces. You tried calming yourself down and decided to settle on his couch for the meanwhile. You were going to wait until he came back.

It felt like an eternity waiting for Rafayel to come back, your mind kept spiraling the more the seconds passed by and you just needed him to hurry up so you could confront him and get it over with. 

As if your prayers were heard, the door to the studio door opened and in walked your beautiful boyfriend, well soon to be ex boyfriend accompanied with his bodyguard. His eyes were quick to find your figure sitting on your coach and he jumped back in surprise, “Oh you scared me, what are you doing here cutie?” 

That’s when he noticed the nasty glare you were giving him and your arms crossed over each other. He mentally panics, Uh oh, I fucked up. “Oh you should be scared, Rafayel.” He felt chills go down his spine from your cold words. That’s when mc awkwardly coughs and speaks up, “Uh I think I’ll excuse myself” before she quickly dashed out the door leaving you two in awkward silence. 

Rafayel was quick to rush to your side, dramatically dropping down to his knees and planting his face into your lap. He lifts his chin up and looks up at you while begging for forgiveness, “Please forgive me cutie, you can do whatever you want with me just please don’t be mad anymore.” 

His eyes were filled with despair as he waited anxiously for your response, his pout deepening the longer you delayed your response. “I’ll let you guess what you did wrong.” His brain freezes as he tries to come up with all the possibilities. You grabbed his chin to force him to look into your eyes, “You forgot our anniversary and chose to go out with that bodyguard of yours.” 

He mentally curses himself, “I’m sorry cutie, I’ve been working on this piece for the past week nonstop and got the dates mixed up, I swear it wasn’t on purpose. The reason I was out with Miss bodyguard is because I was getting some materials to finish up my piece.” 

Without even waiting for your response he got up and dragged you along with him to unveil the canvas that was hidden underneath a cloth. You could tell that it was unfinished but it was no doubt that what he painted was you. You unconsciously let out a gasp because you couldn’t believe what your eyes were witnessing.

Rafayel has painted you in a way where no one else in this world can ever come close to replicating, he drew your likeness in such an ethereal way that it left you speechless. “I- Is this how you see me?” He nods, “I’m ashamed to show you the unfinished product but this piece doesn’t even come close to showcasing your beauty, you continue to inspire me everyday cutie so I hope you can forgive me.” You threw yourself at him and crushed him into a hug. “You are more than forgiven, I love you so much Raf.” He plants a kiss on your temple, “I love you so much you don’t even know.”

Sighing, you went along with your last resort, calling Greyson. You dislike wasting their precious time when they’re on the clock but you’re sure Greyson can spare you maybe a minute or two compared to Zayne. Your heart drums even faster as the seconds prolonged from him picking up the phone.

Finally you hear Greyson’s voice fill your ear, “What’s up?” “Sorry to bother you Greyson but I just wanted to know how Zayne was doing.” “It’s no bother really, he actually left a while ago.” “Oh is that so?” “Yeah, his last patient today was mc and they left together about maybe forty five minutes ago.” You remained silent as your mind started coming up with different scenarios, you were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by Greyson calling out to you. “Sorry about that, thanks for telling me, have a good night.” “You too.”

Then the call ends, leaving you alone with all your doubtful thoughts. You sat at the couch waiting there for Zayne to come back but as the hours passed you were hopeless. 

You don’t even know what time it was or when you even fell asleep but you awoke to keys jingling and the front door opening. You slowly got up and walked up to him, “How come you’re home so late?” “Sorry about that, mc invited me over for dinner since grandma Josephine wanted to see me.” 

“Well you could’ve told me ahead of time, I wouldn’t have made dinner and waited on your return then” your words came out a little harsher than you wanted and Zayne took notice. You walked over to the dining table to clear out all the food and he followed after you to also help.

That’s when he freezes, in the middle of the table sat a cake with the words ‘Happy Anniversary’ in your handwriting. He looks up at you but you pay him no attention. “You made this cake?” You look back at him with cold eyes, “Yeah but it doesn’t matter anymore, you can toss it out since there’s nothing to celebrate.” You were done putting everything in the fridge and you walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll be heading to bed first, I’m taking the guest bedroom.” 

Before you could take another step Zayne reaches out and grabs your hand, you were too tired for this. You turned around and looked him in his eyes while you pried his hand off yours, “Can we not do this right now? I’m exhausted and don’t want to deal with this.” “Please”, his hazel eyes were swimming with regret as they pleaded with you to listen. You manage to grumble out a “You have five minutes.”

“It was not my intention to forget our special day, I’ve been overwhelmed recently with work and it all messed with my head. I'm truly so sorry and I know empty words won’t do anything for you at this moment but I will make it my duty to make it up to you just please don’t leave me, you’re the only person in this world I can’t bear to lose.” 

You reached up and cupped his face with both of your hands, “I’m not going to leave you, you dummy. I just want you to rely on me and communicate with me more when you’re tired. A relationship consists of two people, let us both carry the same amount of weight. But don’t think you’re off the hook about forgetting our anniversary though, you’re still on thin ice mister.” He lets out a small laugh, “Duly noted.”

You checked in with the twins about Sylus’s schedule in advance and they confirmed that he would be out during the afternoon today. You set out to the N109 Zone, specifically his place so that you could plan out surprising him for your anniversary.

It took you lots of time and effort with putting up all the decorations and manually blowing up the balloons. After everything was done you rested on the couch for a while.

You still have plenty of time till his return so you were currently helping his chef prepare his favorite dishes. You put extra care into making the food since it was a special occasion. You couldn’t wait to surprise Sylus.

It was about time Sylus should be returning so you closed all the lights, hiding behind the couch, itching for the right moment to jump out and surprise the love of your life.

Suddenly, you heard the door open. This was the moment, prepare yourself. The lights turn on and you hear footsteps coming closer to you. You jumped out yelling surprise ready to pop the confetti until you came face to face with Kieran, with Luke behind him.

“Huh, where’s Sylus?” Kieran speaks up, “Boss had another unexpected business meeting so he’ll be back a little later.” “Oh” You sigh dejectedly. They try to cheer you up but you just slumped back onto the couch.

An hour has passed and still no trace of Sylus. At this point you looked so sad that Luke offered to call Sylus to see where he was at. Luke puts his phone on speaker so that you could also hear.

Soon you heard the deep silky voice that belonged to your partner, “What is it?” “I was just wondering when you’ll be home.” “I still haven’t wrapped things up with Miss Hunter yet so it’ll still take a while.” “Oh ok, please try to get home as soon as you can.” “I’ll try.”

Luke nervously looks at you after he ends the call. You laughed and a chill ran down both the twin’s back. “Miss, are you ok?” Kieran asks. Catching your breath after you laughed you responded, “How can I be ok after finding out the man I love forgot our anniversary and is out with this girl he frequently has business meetings with.”

You abruptly got up and went to gather your things with you. “W- where are you going?” Luke shakily asks. “I’m going home and neither of you guys are stopping me.” “Please reconsider!” Kieran pleaded, you threw him a death glare and walked towards the door, proceeding to open it and slam it on your way out. You felt bad for getting angry at the twins but your emotions got the better of you.

Sylus just got back and as soon as he opened the door he was welcomed with the sight of the twins panicking and shouting at him. “Boss, why didn’t you pick up your phone? We were calling you for so long, this is an emergency!!” “My phone died.” “You’re in big trouble boss.” “Huh?” Obviously confused by the commotion the twins pushed him to the living room.

He took in the sight and noticed the ‘Happy Anniversary’ banner. That’s when his heart drops, oh he messed up real bad. He wanted to beat himself but there were more pressing matters. “Either one of you give me your phone.” Once a phone was handed to him he quickly went to find your contact and called you.

However, it’s been the tenth time he’s calling you and you still haven’t picked up. As he was giving up you finally picked up, “Ugh would you quit spam calling me Kieran?” “Sweetie, I'm so sorry.” “Oh it’s you, I’m hanging up.” you said coldly. “Wait-” You wasted no time in ending the call. You were also quick to block Sylus and the twin’s numbers.

You were tired after everything that happened today so you drifted off to sleep. You don’t know how long you were sleeping but you woke up to a loud crash, jolting you up in your bed. You looked around to check the source of the noise and noticed that your balcony door was broken, the glass pieces shattered around your floor.

Then you feel a gush of wind as a familiar black and dark red mist surrounds you tightening you into a hold. You looked up and found yourself staring into a pair of shining scarlet eyes. “Let me go you psycho!” “Not until you listen to me.” You roll your eyes, “Not like you gave me any other option.”

He chuckles while walking towards you. Stopping when he’s directly in front of you. “I’m here to beg you for forgiveness, I’m sorry for neglecting you on our special day. I’ll do anything for your forgiveness, hell I’ll even grovel.” The gleam in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. Needless to say, Sylus did his part and earned your forgiveness.

[siri-ike]

Stepping out of the plane was a breath of fresh air. Literally, Gothams air was discusting. His stay there hadn't exactly been the relaxing getaway it was meant to, but he was still refreshed by it.

The ride home was unusually peaceful, too. His parents just talked to each other the whole time. Kind of odd that they barely said a word to him after almost 3 months apart. But that just gave him more time to text Steph and Tim in one chat and Sam and Tucker in another. He must have looked too happy or something because right when they got home, his parents felt the need to ruin everything.

"A private school!?"

"It's a high-end academy. They have a very low exeptance rate."

"What, so, 3 months without me wasn't enough? You have to immediately send me away again!?"

"Sweetheart, this is a wonderful opportunity.  It could set you up for careers in almost anything."

"DO YOU JUST NOT LIKE HAVING ME AROUND? Is that it?!" Danny had to storm upstairs so no one would see the tears welling up in his eyes. Unfortunately, he left his bag downstairs, and there is no way he's going back for it. He'll just explain away the batarang if they snoop.

Danny throws himself dramatically onto his bed. It's a show for no one but himself. Amorpho would be proud.

*knock-knock*

"I DON'T wanna talk!" He yelled, mostly into his pillow.

"Heard the news then." Jazz's voice couldn't have been more welcome.

"They can't even let me be home for a full week before sending me away again." He wasn't crying. You're crying.

"It was Vlads idea."

"So I looked into it. On the surface, Hive looks legit."

"But?"

"Would a normal upstanding school call itself "Hive"? Or be recommended by Vlad? I couldn't find any information about the staff.  Since it was established 3 years ago, no one has graduated. They don't have a website. The only way to get in is through scholarship, and the scholarships are always by a random rich guy or some shady organization. And the students? Identities are kept completely seacret. The only one I was able to find was that Lex Luther supposedly sent his son there, who, by the way, has no prior record of existing." She had deffinetly been waiting to get that out.

Danny sat up in his bed, intrigued. "What about Vlads angle. What's he get out of this?"

"That's what bothers me. Does he just want you out of Amity? Or is it something else? Like some kind of... evil... brainwashing, uh, clone school," that last part got away from her. "What if you show up and it's just more Danny Phantom clones, all ready to learn how to be Danny Phantom?!"

"Jazz, he wasn't even able to make one stable clone." Danny mocked his enemy. "If I go and there are a bunch more of me, then they'd probably be robots or something. Rich people love robots." He 'reassured'.

The two went on, and their theories got wilder and less serious as the hours passed. Until they went to Nasty Burger to meet Sam and Tucker. Danny claimed to want a taste of home, but the others didn't particularly care for a burger so early in the morning. Of course, they had to throw their theories into the ring, haunted boarding school full of Pointdexter knockoffs. Zombies, alternate dimensions, walkers prison brought to the human realm, but soon they got lost in other topics.

Hours turned to days, and before they knew, it was time to say goodbye again.

Getting to the school was a blur. He literally could not remember how he got there, no matter how much he tried. It was a big purple building in the shape of an H. Anything that purple has to be evil. And what's the deal with putting it in the middle of the water? Trying to keep him in or something?

It was even worse inside. The walls, floors, ceilings, everything was yellow broken up into hexagons with thin black lines. Well, they're wrong if they think he'll be distracted by the beauty of nature's most perfect shape... anything this yellow has to be evil.

In the entrance hall stood a polite looking boy, maybe 17 or 18 years old. He wore a suit, no, not just a suit. Tails. The only time Danny had even seen a jacket like that was in cartoons.

"Good morning. Are you Danny?" Oh no, he was here for him.

"Good morning," Danny avoided eye contact. "Yes, I'm Danny."

"Great!" He's so cheerful. "I'm Blacksun, but you can call me Ethan."

"Ok, Ethan. Why are you dressed for the opera?" Danny snided.

Ethan looks down at his clothes. "It is a tailcoat. Appropriate for the most formal events. Such as important celebrations, and what's a greater celebration than starting a new semester of the finest educational institution?" He recited proudly. "Come now. The training hall awaits. This is your chance to show the panel your talents. We can drop off your luggage with Horace. He'll take it to your room. Is that what you wear in battle, or do you need to change?"

Oh-oh. Was he supposed to be prepared for something. Battle?! "I need to change." He panicked, rushing into the room Ethan pointed towards with nothing but the one duffel that he and his friends packed last minute like a bunch of morons.

He dumped the contents onto a large table in the middle of the locker room.

Cutesy of Jazz: two sets of extra clothes, a hazmat suit (each wrapped up for efficient use of storage), some fentonworks shower gels and cleaning chemicals, and a printed out article on how to make friends.

Tucker: a laptop (clearly assembled himself), somehow warm beef jerkey and ducktape.

From Sam: so many seed packets, a compact watering can, and a switchblade.

That's OK. He can work with this.

Danny walked out into a large, wide open room. Looking up, he could see a crowd of people watching him. Suffering spooks. That's what he is right now. Best case scenario, he gets expelled. Worst case, he gets exposed. And there's not exactly a lot of middle ground.

There was an announcer. A male voice saying something over the speakers. It was probably important. As soon as it stopped, the obvious trap door that Danny had been staring at opened up. Through it rose a robot on a platform, roughly twice Danny's height.

It swung at him, and Danny immediately hit the floor running as fast as he could. The good news is it was slower than him. He discreetly reached into his shoulder and retreated some seed packets. Opening them up and letting them fall on the ground wherever he stands. The audience laughs. By the time he's spilled his 5th packet, Danny has covered the distance back to the door where he entered. Now, all he has to do is somehow get to the other side of a giant hostile robot trying to kill him.

5. Danny stares it down. He had built precious seconds worth of distance. He got to a running position. 4. He grabbed Fenton weed killer out of his thigh. 3. He ran towards the bot. 2,1. The robot throws a punch, but Danny dodges, and it hists the ground instead. He climbs up its arm, onto its back, and jumps down. All in one fell swoop. He runs again, this time spraying the seed pods with the concoction. The smell is so nauseating that he has to cover his mouth and nose. The robot is able to run past the first patch before they sprout into their monstrous ghost forms, but the second slowes it down. Then, the third manages to break off an arm. It gets stuck in the fourth.

He had made it well past the fifth patch and would have kept running, were it not for the sound of cheering.

Maybe Danny Fenton can be a baddie, too.

guess which show I binged while sick…(can’t fucking watch anything without thinking up a dp au for it)

danny phantom teen titans crossover au idea

 Vlad tricks the Fentons into sending danny to Hive Academy (so he can learn to be his evil apprentice/son or some shit). maybe by saying that its a super prestigious school that anyone would kill to attend, or like, its a school that specializes in helping troubled youth and setting them up on the path to successes (yeah successful super villains), or some other vapid nonsense.  either way Jack and Maddie fall for it and decide to send Danny there.

Danny probably doesn’t know exactly what Hive Academy(H.A.) is about, but he knows enough to understand that he doesn’t want anything to do with the place. maybe cause Vlad said something to him, or he overheard Vlad talking to someone about him attending. but he doesn’t get a choose about going, cause Jack and Maddie think it’ll fix danny’s school problem.(it won’t, its just replacing 1 set of problems for another)

from there, there would be a lot of danny+sam+tucker freaking out about danny not being there to protect the town from ghosts(maybe Jazz and Valerie too) And them trying everything they can think of to get danny out of it. nothing works but they still try.

after that Im not really sure about the specific stuff. Danny would probably do really well at H.A. cause the whole point of the place is to teach super powered kids how to use those powers (even if the reason completely clashes with danny’s morals) And then maybe Danny meets another kid there that doesn’t want to be a villain so the 2 of them team up to… idk,  rat the school out to the heroes and shit happens from there.

[roanniom]

hi issa! i hope all is well and im so glad you’re back! you are literally one of the best writers ever (and literally my favorite person who writes for eddie) ! i hope you’re day is going good 💛

i would love to request cute; needy eddie phone call (you can make it spicy if you want), maybe the reader went on a girls trip and the reader calls him once at the hotel and he is just miserable 😩

Hi there anon! I'm doing okay, but writing is making everything better. Super happy to do this request.

On the Line

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation

"Eddie. I've been gone for half a day. I was literally with you this morning." You try to make your voice sound reproachful, but your smile cannot be hidden. You're in your hotel room getting ready to go down for dinner with your friends.

"I knowwww, don't remind me. It has been AGONY!"

You hear a muted thump which you imagine to be Eddie throwing himself on his couch near the landline.

"Well what are you doing to distract yourself from this agony?" you ask with amusement.

"I tried touching myself, but I'll be honest, it's more effective now that I can hear your voice, babe."

"EDDIE MUNSON!"

"Whaaaat? What else is there to do?"

"I don't know. Go outside? Maybe touch some grass, you fucking horn dog," you laugh, laying back on the hotel bed.

"I can't exactly go jerk off on the grass, Mrs. Jenkins said she'd call the cops if she ever caught me doing that again - ,"

"Eddie. I will smack you."

"Ugh, don't make promises you can't keep. What do you think I've been imagining?"

You slap an exasperated hand over your face and Eddie moans.

"What was that? Smacking your own ass to give me some auditory stimulation, princess? Do it again!"

"No, that was me covering my eyes from the shame of having such a perverted boyfriend."

"Don't pretend you aren't just as perverted, sweetheart. Even Mrs. Jenkins knows, with how loud you usually are - ,"

"Edward. Munson."

"Mmmm yeah. Say my name, baby."

You can't help but dissolve into laughter at the absurdity of it all.

"Are you actually touching yourself right now?"

"Think about that question for a second. Really let that simmer for me."

Suddenly you hear the most obscene, wet squelching coming from the phone. It's so sudden and so rapid that you pull the phone away from your ear for a second. Clearly Eddie had put the receiver down where he was...taking care of himself.

"Eddie..." you say, but this time it is less reproachful and more breathless.

"Princess." His voice is less humorous now. A little deeper. A little scratchy.

"I have to go in a few minutes..." you trail off wistfully. You've begun to tune into Eddie's more labored breathing.

"Sure about that?"

His voice is gruff. You want to laugh but suddenly find that you can't.

"You know I can still smell your perfume in this fucking trailer, right? Like a god damn temptress. Why would you do that to me, honey?"

The phone is clearly by his lips as you can hear him loud and clear. But similarly loud and clear is the sound of his hand on his cock. Now moving furiously.

But you're not the only one hearing new things.

"I can hear you breathing heavier, baby." Eddie says it conspiratorially. There is the distinct sound of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah well you're turning me on. I'm only fricken human, you know."

"No. I don't know that. Pretty sure you're a goddess." Eddie finishes his statement with a groan. "So what are you wearing...my goddess."

You clutch the phone to your ear and look down at your outfit.

"Well, we're all going out tonight so I'm wearing that sparkly top that you said was too sexy for The Hideout."

"Are you fucking with me right now, sweetheart?" Eddie chokes out. You imagine that he's gripping himself, trying not to cum at the mere image of you in the revealing garment. "You mean to tell me...we've been talking all this time and your tits have just been...out?"

"I'm not naked, Eddie. It's just low cut," you argue, but your body begins to heat up all the same.

"Low cut, huh?" he asks gruffly. "Why don't you reach into that low cut top and touch yourself for me then."

"Oh...kay." You don't even fight him. Your hand cups your breast under the fabric.

"Make sure to pinch and twist your nipples a little. For me."

As if pleasuring yourself will inherently bring him physical pleasure. Which you guess it does, because when you inhale sharply at the feeling, Eddie lets out a moan. You hesitate for a second.

"Is Wayne - ,"

"At work. Don't bring up that old man when I'm so close to cumming." Eddie barks with frustration. You release a breathy chuckle.

"You're already close?"

"Babe. I've been touching myself for hours. I've been on the edge this whole conversation."

"Yeah?" you ask, egging him on.

"Yeah, baby. I'm about to blow hearing your sweet voice."

"Well....you should know that I'm wet." You're being honest. The idea of having to go downstairs in a few minutes is becoming less appealing by the second.

"Oh fuck."

"Yeah. I really want to touch myself, baby."

"Do it." Eddie practically orders.

"I can't," you say, though one of your hands does begin to slide south, between your breasts, down the plane of your stomach, to cup yourself beneath your skirt. You keep the phone cradled between your ear and your shoulder so you can keep one hand on your breast, fingers tweaking your nipple.

"I need you, baby." It comes out more submissive than his previously demanding tone. You lower your voice to match.

"I know, Eddie. Can you cum for me?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? You'll cum for me?" You hear his breathing pick up. From the sound of his stroking, he's right there. You rub your palm over your clothed pussy, feeling your clit ache with need.

"Fuck. Yeah I'll...fuck."

"That's it baby, cum for me."

The gasping and sputtering on the other side of the phone overwhelms you and you find yourself grinding against your hand in vain. You won't be able to take care of yourself. Not yet at least. But you know that when you get back to your hotel room later tonight, one of those pillows are really in for it.

"Fuuuck, princess."

"That good, huh?" you ask, cheekily.

"Don't act all proud of yourself," Eddie admonishes playfully. "There's nobody here to clean me up."

Your heart (and pussy) pound at the reference to the way you usually lick up the evidence of his pleasure.

"I'll be back before you know it, handsome."

Eddie sighs.

"You have to go now, don't you." It isn't a question. You laugh.

"I had to go fifteen minutes ago. But I guess you had to cum first."

~*~

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Thanks for reading! Please let me know what your favorite part was!

[ruewritesoccasionally]

Welcome to the Neighbourhood | Terry Richmond

pairings: neighbour!terry richmond x neighbour!black reader

warnings: smut 18+, fluff, slow burn (if you squint), slightly rough/dom!terry - lmk if you think i missed anything else

summary: ready to put shelby springs behind him, terry ventures to start afresh - new job and new neighbourhood but the last thing he was expecting was to have an attractive neighbour waltz in and send his head spinning

word count: 5.4K

Shelby Springs had taken everything from him—his peace, his purpose, his faith in people. But Terrance Richmond wasn’t a man to let the past define him. He had to rebuild, brick by brick, until there was nothing left of the anger, pain, or memories that weighed him down. Once he’d made his peace, routine became his salvation. If there was one thing Terry wasn’t, it was idle.

Standing at 6’2, with muscles that didn’t come from sitting still, he carried himself with the discipline of a former Marine. He threw himself into rebuilding his life with the same focus, which is why the executive protection job posting felt like fate. It was an opportunity to start over. A new job, a new city—it wasn’t nature like he was used to, but he wasn’t about to say no to a clean slate.

The last of the moving boxes sat stacked on his driveway, waiting to be carried inside. As Terry hoisted one of the heavier ones, headlights flashed across his yard, catching his attention. His eyes followed the movements of a woman stepping out of a car, her keys in hand. If his hands hadn’t instinctively tightened around the box, the fine China inside would’ve been in pieces on the pavement.

Damn. She was... striking. The kind of striking that rooted a man to the spot and left his thoughts a tangled mess.

The pantsuit she wore clung to her figure in all the right ways, while soft curls framed her face like a work of art. Then she smiled, and he was done for.

She approached with a confident stride, her voice soft but laced with a teasing edge that only added to her allure. “Hey,” she said, flashing him an easy smile—the kind that could charm just about anyone. “Looks like they finally found someone to take the place. Congrats. I’m in a rush right now, but I get off work at 6. I’ll swing by to properly introduce myself—if that’s cool with you?”

Terry fumbled between a nod and a simple word of agreement, finally managing a quick, “Yeah, sounds good,” before she turned and climbed into her car.

She waved as she drove off, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

She knew she had a wicked flirt game, and today’s outfit choice was clearly the right one. As she headed to the office, an unusually good mood accompanied her. She couldn’t help but think about her new neighbour—broad shoulders, brooding eyes, and a quiet intensity that lingered even in their brief interaction.

Her curiosity burned through the day like a steady flame. Who was he? What was his story? And most importantly, would he be sticking around?

Terry tried to shake her out of his head as he tackled the last of the boxes. But it was no use. Her voice, her smile—they’d already sunk into his mind, leaving him restless and curious. 6 o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the neighbourhood, when YN pulled into her driveway, a sense of anticipation bubbling in her chest. Work had been exhausting, but the thought of properly meeting her new neighbour had been the highlight of her day. She stepped into her house, kicked off her heels, and immediately headed for the shower. The warm water was a welcome relief, washing away the day's tension and leaving her feeling refreshed.

Dressed in something comfortable yet flattering—because first impressions mattered, even if she wasn’t technically trying—YN made her way into the kitchen. Cooking was a distraction, a way to channel her nerves into something productive. She whipped up a quick but hearty meal, pairing it with some baked goods she’d had stashed away. It was a neighbourly gesture, sure, but she’d also seen him. And let’s just say that the mysterious, rugged man across the street had piqued her curiosity.

Balancing the food containers carefully in her hands, YN walked across to his house. The porch light was on, a warm glow illuminating the otherwise quiet street. She knocked twice, stepping back as she waited.

Inside, Terry had been pacing his living room for the past fifteen minutes, glancing at the clock and then the front door as if he could will someone to show up. He’d told himself it was silly, but the memory of their brief interaction that morning had stayed with him all day. She was charming, poised, and stunning, and the idea of seeing her again had stirred something in him he couldn’t quite name.

When the knock finally came, he opened the door to find her standing there, her smile lighting up the dimming evening. His expression softening into something she could only describe as relief. His eyes flicked down to the food in her hands, then back up to her face, his lips twitching as though he were fighting the urge to smile.

For a split second, neither of them spoke, just taking each other in. Then, at the same time, they both blurted out their names.

"Terrance Richmond." "YN."

The words collided, and they both paused before bursting into laughter.

"No, you go," she said, waving a hand for him to continue.

He shook his head with a small, amused smile. "No, you first. I insist."

She gave in, introducing herself again, this time with a little less fluster. “Sorry about the rush this morning. I was running late for work. I figured I’d make it up to you by bringing some dinner—just thought I’d save you the trouble of cooking or ordering in tonight.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but not ungrateful. “That’s... really kind of you. Thank you.” He stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in.

YN wasn’t sure what she’d expected—half-packed boxes or chaos, maybe—but his house was already well put together. Everything had its place, and the space looked cosy, even lived-in.

“You’ve been busy,” she remarked, glancing around.

Terry followed her gaze, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I couldn’t keep still. Needed to get everything done.”

The motion of his hand raised the hem of his shirt just enough to reveal a sliver of his abdomen, and her breath hitched involuntarily at the sight. He was... sculpted, to say the least. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but the deep heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her.

Terry noticed—of course, he noticed. His lips quirked into a subtle smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You okay over there?” he teased, his voice dipping lower.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Totally fine,” she stammered, mentally cursing herself. Way to keep it together, YN.

“Kitchen’s this way,” he said, leading her further inside.

In the kitchen, she set the food down on the counter while Terry rummaged through a cabinet for plates and cutlery.

“Wine or whiskey?” he asked, holding up a tumbler in one hand and a wine glass in the other.

She tilted her head, eyeing him playfully. “You strike me as the rough-around-the-edges whiskey type. But I could be wrong.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “And you strike me as the sophisticated wine type. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

She laughed softly, choosing the wine glass. “Maybe just a little bit of both,” she said, holding up her glass in a mock toast.

Dinner passed with ease, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them. She learned about his time in the Marines, his decision to move to the city, and his plans to settle into a new routine. In turn, he listened intently as she spoke about her work as a lawyer and the challenges that came with it.

“Why executive protection?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to his glass. “It seemed like the right move. I needed something to focus on, something to ground me after...I guess I wanted to keep helping people… just without all the…” He gestured vaguely, his voice trailing off.

She nodded, understanding the weight of what he wasn’t saying. “That makes sense. You’re a protector. It suits you.”

Instead, she smiled softly, changing the subject to something lighter. “Well, I think the neighbourhood gossip will be all over you in no time. New guy, good-looking, and clearly handy with a moving box? You’re prime material.”

Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “And here I thought I’d be flying under the radar.”

“Not a chance,” she teased, raising her glass.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation, the initial awkwardness fading into a comfortable rhythm. By the time the food was gone and the wine bottle nearly empty, she realised how late it had gotten.

“I should let you get some rest,” she said, standing and gathering her things.

Terry walked her to the door, his presence warm and steady beside her. “Thanks for coming over. And for dinner. You didn’t have to, but... it means a lot.”

She smiled, the sincerity in his voice catching her off guard. “It’s my turn to host next time,” she said, stepping out onto the porch.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

As she walked back to her house, she felt his eyes on her, and when she reached her front door, she turned to find him still standing there, waiting. She gave him a small wave before stepping inside, and only then did he close his door.

Back in her kitchen, she leaned against the counter, her thoughts lingering on Terrance Richmond—the man who’d somehow managed to make an ordinary evening feel anything but.

It had been two months of playful banter, stolen moments, and a rhythm they’d fallen into so effortlessly it felt like second nature. Their evenings were a mix of wholesome exploration and daring escapades—her showing him the city from her unique perspective. Quiet cafés tucked into alleys, her favourite jazz bar that always felt alive no matter the hour, daring rooftop views that made her heart race as much as his lingering glances. Terry soaked it all in, learning her through the places she loved.

And then there were the nights. Nights when she’d invite him into her world, sharing wine and laughter, their knees brushing under the table, their gazes holding just a beat too long. Nights when he’d introduce her to the simplicities he cherished: an old movie, a game of cards, or just sitting on his porch with whiskey and comfortable silence. The friendship that brewed between them was comforting, but the undercurrent of something more was undeniable.

He didn’t mind bending the rules, like ignoring speed limits to race home just to catch her as she pulled into her driveway. There was something magnetic about the sight of her at the end of a long day. The way she’d stride out of her car, hair loosened from its bun, buttons of her blouse slightly undone, her lips still stained with that red lipstick that drove him wild. It was like she carried the day’s fire with her, igniting something in him without even trying. He’d lean against his porch, offering her a nightcap with that low, smooth voice of his, and she’d grin, the tension of her day easing away.

She had never been more grateful that Terry’s job required him to wear a suit. Seeing him waiting for her in all his tall, broad-shouldered glory, tie loosened, dark stormy eyes carrying a story from the day, was a sight she never grew tired of. Her eyes would linger, tracing the outline of his strong frame and sharp jawline. Even the way he held himself—calm, composed—was intoxicating. Their usual routine of “Hey, stranger. Fancy seeing you here,” never got old, but there was something different about today.

She parked her car with noticeably less energy, the weight of her day evident in the slight slump of her shoulders. Terry caught it immediately. He leaned against his porch, the usual playful smirk tugging at his lips, but it faded when she approached.

“Hey, stranger,” he said softly, his voice warm but cautious.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she replied, but her tone lacked its usual spark. Her eyes flickered to his, and though her lips curved into a faint smile, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, taking a step closer.

She exhaled, shaking her head lightly. “Rough day. I don’t think I’m up for anything tonight.”

He nodded, though disappointment briefly flickered across his features. “I get it. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks, Terry,” she said, her voice soft as she turned toward her door.

He watched her retreat into her house, resisting the urge to follow. Respecting her space was the right thing to do, but it didn’t stop the lingering ache in his chest. Something felt off, and it wasn’t just her mood—it was the absence of her presence.

Back in his house, Terry tried to distract himself. He pushed through an intense workout in his home gym, the rhythm of his heart pounding in his ears as he lifted, punched, and ran his frustration away. But no amount of sweat could shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Showered and changed into a snug grey T-shirt and sweatpants, he found himself pacing his living room. The hours stretched, and the silence grew unbearable. It was stupid—he felt like barely knew her but they had spent so much time together that being apart for the one night felt wrong, and the thought of her being upset made him restless. Finally, he grabbed a bottle of wine and decided to check on her. If nothing else, she deserved someone to talk to.

Terry knocked twice, the bottle balanced in his hand. The sound of footsteps reached him, and when the door swung open, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

She stood there, framed by the warm glow of her house, wrapped in a silk negligee the colour of deep mauve. The fabric flowed from her shoulders, clinging to her curves in a way that made his breath hitch. It accentuated the fullness of her breasts, the gentle dip of her waist, and the teasing slit that revealed her smooth, toned thigh. Her dark skin shimmered against the luxurious fabric, and her loose hair framed her face like a crown.

He stared, momentarily dumbfounded. “I, uh...” His usual composure failed him.

Her lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through the tiredness in her eyes. “Terry,” she said softly, “are you okay?”

He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to meet hers. “I just... I wanted to check on you. You seemed off earlier.”

Her expression softened, her fingers brushing against the doorframe. “I’m okay. Just needed some time to breathe.”

He held up the bottle. “I figured you might still need that nightcap. But if this is a bad time—”

She stepped aside, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips. “It’s not.”

He walked in, acutely aware of how close their bodies brushed as he passed her. The faint scent of her perfume—warm, sensual, with a hint of spice—wrapped around him, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

As she closed the door, she turned to face him, her head tilted slightly. “Thanks for checking on me. Most people wouldn’t bother.”

He set the bottle on the counter, turning to face her with a small shrug. “I’m not most people.”

Her smile widened, the tension of her day beginning to unravel. “No, you’re not.”

And there it was again—that spark, that unspoken pull between them. The air felt heavier, charged with something they both knew they couldn’t ignore much longer.

The room was cloaked in a heady tension that neither of them could escape. She leaned against the counter, her fingers brushing absentmindedly against the cool marble surface as she watched him pour the wine. His tall, commanding frame moved with an easy grace that was almost hypnotic, the tight grey T-shirt clinging to his broad chest and shoulders, highlighting every muscle. His stormy blue-grey eyes caught the light for a fleeting second as he glanced up, and they seemed to darken when they met hers.

"Rough day, huh?" His voice was deep, smooth, and rich, yet there was an edge to it, like he was holding something back.

"Yeah," she murmured, her gaze lingering on the way his big hands gripped the bottle. Those hands. She tried to focus on what he was saying, but her mind betrayed her, wandering to how they might feel against her skin, firm yet gentle, exploring every inch of her.

"You don’t talk about work much," he said, leaning casually against the opposite counter, though there was nothing casual about the way his eyes roamed her figure. His gaze lingered on the curve of her waist, the silk of her negligee clinging to her full breasts and cascading down to her thick thighs. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but his focus never wavered.

"Work’s work," she replied, her voice quieter than she intended. The usual playfulness in her tone was replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but she wasn’t sure if it was from his smouldering gaze or the thoughts racing through her mind.

"That’s fair," he said, his lips curling into a faint smirk, though his voice had dropped an octave. He took a sip of his wine, his sharp jaw flexing slightly as he tilted his head back. She could barely breathe.

The air between them felt thick, electric. Every glance, every subtle movement was charged with an intensity that neither of them could ignore. She wanted to say something, anything, but her eyes kept drifting to his lips, full and smooth, and how easily they curved into that devastatingly charming smile. She wondered what they’d feel like against hers, how they’d taste.

"You seem... distracted," he teased, his voice low and husky.

She huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Says the man who hasn’t stopped staring."

"You’re hard not to stare at," he admitted, his tone serious now.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand. "You’re not so bad yourself," she said, her voice steady despite the wild thrum in her chest.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was suffocating in the best way. The kind of silence that demanded action, that begged for release.

And then it happened.

He set his glass down with a soft clink and took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. "You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough, raw with restraint. "Seeing you every morning, looking so damn fine, so put together... And then at night, when you come to mine, when you let your guard down and laugh like the world hasn’t put you through hell that day... I’m here, losing my mind over you, woman."

Her breath hitched, her wide eyes searching his stormy gaze. His words were like gasoline to the fire already burning inside her. "Terry..." she started, but the words caught in her throat.

"No," he cut her off gently, his big hands cupping her face, his thumbs brushing along her jaw. "Let me say this. From the first day I saw you, I knew you were gonna ruin me. And you have. I can’t think straight when you’re around, and when you’re not..." He trailed off, his gaze dropping to her lips.

She felt her chest tighten, her own thoughts spinning out of control. "I’ve liked you since day one," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

His lips quirked into a soft, almost disbelieving smile. "Yeah?"

She nodded, her cheeks warm. "Yeah."

That was all he needed to hear.

His lips crashed against hers, and everything else melted away. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer until her soft curves were pressed firmly against his muscular frame. She moaned softly into the kiss, her hands exploring the expanse of his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Terry," she gasped as his lips trailed to her neck, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

"You’re perfect," he murmured against her skin, his hands roaming over her thick thighs, her generous hips, memorising every part of her. "So damn perfect."

Her fingers tangled in his short, dark hair as he lifted her effortlessly onto the counter, his lips returning to hers with a fervour that left her breathless. The silk of her negligee rode up, baring more of her dark, supple skin to his touch.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he rasped, his stormy eyes locking with hers as his hand slid up her thigh.

"Show me," she whispered, her voice dripping with desire.

And he did. The tension that had been building for months finally erupted, their movements urgent yet unhurried, savouring every touch, every kiss, every moment. It was the turning page they’d both been waiting for, the start of something they both knew would change everything.

The moment between them burned hotter as they moved upstairs, their lips locked in a fiery kiss that only deepened with each step. Breathless moans filled the spaces where their mouths parted, the sound mingling with the faint creak of the stairs. Terry’s strong arms tightened around her, lifting her effortlessly. Her thighs instinctively clasped around his waist, holding on to him as if her life depended on it. Her fingers found their way under his t-shirt, her fingertips brushing against the hard ridges of his back muscles, revelling in the sheer strength he carried so easily.

His grip on her waist was firm, his large hands branding her as his own, sending a thrilling pulse through her body that promised to linger long after tonight. His touch roamed with purpose, tracing the swell of her thighs and the curve of her hips. When his palm landed on her ass with a sharp slap, followed by a teasing squeeze, she gasped into his mouth, her body arching into him. Terry let out a deep, gravelly chuckle, the sound dripping with satisfaction, as if her every reaction was fuel to the fire raging within him.

With his lips trailing down her jaw, then returning to claim her mouth, he blindly led them toward her bedroom. His back pressed against the door as he maneuvered it open, never breaking their heated connection. Once inside, Terry seated himself at the edge of her bed, pulling her closer onto his lap. She straddled him, her negligee riding higher, teasing them both. Her nails running over his short, dark hair, dragging them just enough to make him groan deeply, the sound vibrating between them. His large hands explored her curves freely now, roaming the softness of her body like a man starved.

As their lips crashed together again, Terry’s control snapped. With an effortless move, he flipped her onto her back, his strength leaving her breathless. The sudden shift made her gasp, her hair splaying out across the sheets as she looked up at him. His body hovered above hers, broad and muscular, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at her. The look on his face—raw, unfiltered desire—sent a thrill through her core. His eyes darkened with lust, his brows knit together in a mixture of longing and determination.

“Terry...” she whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of the moment, her body humming with anticipation.

He lowered himself, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her collarbone before moving to her ear. His voice, deep and husky, made her shiver. “You don’t know what you do to me, YN,” he repeated. “Not being able to touch you like this.”

Her breath hitched, his confession sending waves of heat coursing through her body. Her hands gripped his biceps, feeling the tension coiled in him, the restraint he had fought for so long finally slipping. "Terry," she whispered again, her voice soft yet laced with her own need.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he rasped, his gaze trailing over her. “Every damn curve... your thighs, your hips... these gorgeous lips I can’t stop thinking about. You’re driving me insane, YN.”

She grew needier, her dark skin glowing under the low light of the room. Her hands roamed across his back, her nails lightly grazing his skin as she pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word sent sparks flying between them, a tangible current neither could resist.

“Show what you’ve been wanting to do to me”, she breathlessly said.

That was all the permission Terry needed, he lowered his body down hers stopping at her thighs and slowly pusher lingerie up body signalling for her to raise arms so he could undress her. Eyes taking in every detail and she almost shied under his lustful gaze, but he quietened thoughts as he dipped his head down and his mouth parted to envelope the nipple that called for his attention. He bit, licked, sucked and swirled, teasing that bud and showing the other one the same love – “this is what you were hiding me, angel?” His voice, so many decibels lower she almost didn’t recognise it.

“Out of words already, baby? Don’t worry, I’ve got something that’ll bring that voice back”

YN watched as his hands travelled and worked down her body, lighting a trail of fire in their wake. They moved with such expertise, like he had time to study what made her wet – either that or she was just entirely ready for him. Her panties did nothing to disguise her puffy lips or the slickness that dampened the front, she would’ve been embarrassed if she wasn’t so turned on but this was a long time coming.

Terry's lips worked their way down her body, slow and purposeful, leaving a searing trail of anticipation in their wake. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he spread her legs wider, his firm grip sending shivers through her. His stormy eyes flicked up to meet hers, a silent yet urgent question. She responded by gripping the back of his head, guiding him exactly where she needed him most.

He hungrily obeyed, his tongue moving with an aggressive precision that mirrored her unspoken desire. Every stroke was deliberate, every flick of his tongue a testament to his singular focus on her pleasure. His large hands slid up her thighs, his grip firm and grounding as her body trembled beneath him.

Her nails grazed the smooth skin at the back of his head, her soft cries urging him on, and he fed on every sound she made like it was a reward. The way she arched into him, her breathless gasps and whispered curses, only drove him further. He was relentless, addicted to the way she tasted, the way her body writhed under his control.

“Terry…” she moaned, her voice breaking as he increased the pressure, his tongue and lips working in perfect rhythm. He felt her thighs quake against his shoulders, her body teetering on the edge.

“Come on, YN,” he murmured against her, the vibration of his voice sending her spiraling. “I want to feel it. Let go for me.”

With a cry that echoed through the room, she shattered, her release coursing through her like a wave. Terry didn’t stop, prolonging her pleasure, tasting every part of her as though he couldn’t get enough. And as he finally pulled back, his lips glistening, he looked up at her with a dark, satisfied smirk.

Terry’s gaze was locked on her, dark and burning with intensity. She was already bare before him, her body glowing in the low light, every curve and line drawing him in like a man possessed. He knelt on the bed, his knees framing hers, and his hand traced the side of her thigh, firm and deliberate.

“I don’t know how I kept control this whole time,” he muttered, his voice laced with restrained desire. Grabbing her wrist, he guided her hand to the thick length straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched as her fingers instinctively wrapped around him. His jaw clenched at the contact, a low groan slipping from his lips.

“I’m ready to put this where it belongs,” he growled, his voice rough, primal. He stood, his movements deliberate as he tugged off his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion. When he stood before her, completely bare, her mouth went dry, her pulse racing. His body was a perfect balance of strength and masculinity—toned, powerful, and overwhelming in every sense of the word.

She couldn’t stop the breathless moan of his name. “Terry…” she whimpered, her voice a mix of pleading and desperation.

She reached for him, her nails grazing over the hard ridges of his abs, earning a sharp hiss as he captured her wrist again. His other hand gripped her hip, pulling her toward him as he rolled his body against hers, letting her feel every inch of his arousal pressing into her. She gasped, the friction igniting something primal in her.

“Are you ready to take all of me?” his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Before she could respond, he flipped her onto her stomach with ease, his hands tugging her hips back toward him. A surprised gasp escaped her, quickly replaced by a low moan as his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, his teeth grazing her skin. One hand pressed into the small of her back, pinning her in place, while the other slid up her thigh, rough and demanding.

She lifted her head slightly, her eyes catching the mirror across the room. The sight of their bodies intertwining—the dominance in his stance, the way her body responded to his every touch—made her breath hitch. Her body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the heat and tension building between them.

But just as his fingers trailed higher, grazing her most sensitive spot, he stilled. His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and his tone softened, though the intensity remained.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “I need to hear it, YN.”

Her body writhed beneath him, every nerve alight with need. “I want this… and you. I need it, T. Please,” she pleaded, her voice desperate, her core weeping and throbbing for him.

That was all he needed. In one smooth, deliberate motion, he thrust into her, filling her completely. She cried out, her fingers clutching the sheets as her body adjusted to the overwhelming sensation. He didn’t give her a moment to recover, his movements relentless and precise, each thrust stealing the breath from her lungs.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “Taking me so perfectly. You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Her head lolled to the side, her cries and moans echoing in the room. She could barely form a coherent response, her mind clouded with nothing but him. Instead, she let her body speak for her, meeting his movements with equal fervour, the sound of their bodies colliding only heightening the intensity.

As her body tightened around him, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, he slowed. His hand slid around to cup her face, turning her head so he could kiss her. It wasn’t rough like before—it was slow, deep, and tender, a kiss that felt like a promise. Her body trembled, her moan muffled against his lips as her release overtook her, crashing over her in waves.

He followed soon after, a guttural groan escaping him as he buried himself deeper, his grip on her waist tightening. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of their laboured breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets.

Finally, he collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms. His lips pressed against her forehead, the tenderness in the gesture a stark contrast to the passion they’d just shared.

“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face.

She nodded, her cheek pressed against his chest as her breathing slowly steadied. “More than okay,” she murmured, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Good,” he said, his voice low but warm. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

The promise lingered in the air, and she couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree as she nestled closer to him, feeling completely and utterly content.

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

and take a shot for every time i mentioned 'stormy' or 'eyes' loooool

[peanutpinet]

OK HAI I HAD AN IDEA FOR INNOCENT READER X SYLUS (or normal reader), so. innocent reader and sylus just had a baby (like around crawling age) and mc is cooking and the baby just crawls off because she saw sylus for like 2 seconds and follows him into a meeting and sylus notices her (she starts babbling) and he laughs as his daughter is now apart of the meeting and when mc finds them shes knocked out on sylus’ chest while the twins coo over her (maybe covered in bloodddd)

Little Dragon - Father Sylus x Mother Innocent Fem Reader

A/N: Hi anon, thank you for requesting! Sorry it took so long and if the story doesn't match your request exactly but I hope you still enjoy the story

Question, do you guys think I should make this into a series? If so, would you guys like to send in more requests of Sylus x Innocent Fem Reader? Let me know!!

Also, imma need to know what you guys think of Caleb's return? Did not expect a blunt yandere/possessive theme for him like, can 22 January come any sooner?!

Warnings: fluff, slight aggressive tone (not sylus), implied "torture", overall wholesome story of Sylus x Innocent Fem Reader with their lil dragon

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest and credit goes to the image's respective owners.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry for not being able to help you for dinner. A sudden meeting came up but I’ll make sure to make it up to you” Sylus murmured as he wrapped his large arms around your small figure, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you were cooking dinner

Though it’s been years since you first dated and two years since you both got married and had a baby girl, you still get goosebumps whenever Sylus is close or does anything intimate

“Sy…it’s okay…but can you like umm, get off? You’re umm…you’re distracting me. I need to cook” you stuttered while you felt Sylus’ warm laughter right at your neck, sending a wave of goosebumps all over your body

“Oh sweetie” Sylus tightens his hold slightly around your waist, not so much that you couldn’t move but enough for you to know his slightly attachment towards you. “Even after all these years, you’re still easily flustered. I thought you would have gotten used to me being clingy”

Sylus pressed a soft lingering kiss on the side of your neck right between your neck and shoulder. “What would your business partners or enemies think off when they see you being clingy like this” you barely uttered, trying to keep composed while Sylus chuckled and gave you a lingering kiss on the side of your neck before reluctantly pulling away

“Who cares about what they think? As long as you and our lil dragon are always with me, I could care less about what everyone else thinks” Sylus mentioned, now standing beside you, rubbing your shoulders

You looked over at Sylus smiling and kissed his cheeks while you were on your tiptoe with Sylus’ hand around your waist to stabilize you. “We’ll always love you, sy. You’re both our first love, our protector, our home”

Hearing you say all this, Sylus couldn’t help but gently hold your chin and softly kissing your lips. To him, your lips were more addicting than anything he had ever tasted; including his collection of wine. “You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that. It makes me want to just forget about the meeting and spend more time with you and our lil dragon”

Hearing Sylus’ words, you turned off the stove and turned to face Sylus. “I know love. But you also need to handle your businesses. You have to make sure that everything is running smoothly. I’ll reward you with lots of kisses afterwards yeah?”

Hearing your bargain, Sylus smirked and pulled you closer. “That better me a promise, sweetie. You know what I do to liars” Sylus leaned down so his lips were right by your ear as he nibbled them a bit. “I’d punish them”

Feeling the heat rushed to your cheeks, you immediately shoved him backwards. “Okay okay, I get it. Don’t forget to kiss your lil dragon before you go to your meeting”

Sylus let out a rough sigh as he kissed your cheek once more before walking to the playmate where your daughter fell asleep after playing for a while. Seeing your daughter sprawled across the playmate with her crow and dragon plushie, Sylus kneeled down and lifted her, bringing her closer to him as he placed a gentle kiss on top of her head, nose, and cheeks.

“Sorry lil dragon. Daddy got some work to finish off but I promise I’ll finish up quickly to come back to you and mommy. Don’t trouble your mommy okay? Otherwise, daddy is going to get punished by mommy”

Sylus chuckled as he gently placed his daughter back on the playmate, making sure to not wake her up as he pulled her blankie on her then slowly got back up and headed to his meeting room; not knowing that his daughter was actually awake when he kissed her.

Neither you nor Sylus noticed but when your daughter felt Sylus’ lips on her face, she started to wake up but knowing your daughter, she was quite a calm baby that sometimes the both of you would often miss when she was awake unless one of you actually paid attention closely.

Without either of you knowing, your daughter crawled to follow Sylus into his meeting room which he didn’t close, allowing her to crawl into the room which didn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the room, including his business partner.

“W-what the? A baby?” Sylus’ business partner and men who were on guard, worried that Sylus brought in additional security all of a sudden

“D-dadda!!” the baby crawled over to Sylus, ignoring the presence of powerful men in the room because she only had one thing on her mind and that was getting to her dad

“What on earth is the meaning of this, Sylus?” his business partner scowled

Sylus didn’t even bother to reply to his business partner and kneeled on the ground, waiting for his daughter to crawl over to him before scooping her up and praising her for crawling. “That’s my baby girl. Such a strong and resilient little one just like her mom”

The baby giggled in Sylus’ arms as he sat back in his chair, letting his daughter cuddle with her father, ignoring the unpleasant stares in the room and played with Sylus’ necklace. “What? Never seen a baby before?”

“No. More so irritated that our conversation is interrupted. You’re not the only one that’s busy around here” his business partner scoffed and Sylus held back using his evol when his daughter is around

“Is that so?” Sylus tried not to sound irritated to not scare his daughter as he patted her back, bringing her to his chest where she snuggled closer

“One can never be so sure with you, Sylus. Who knows, that little menace of a child might actually be someone that’s shapeshifting. Or is this part of your plan, Sylus?” the business partner went on to the point that Sylus’ daughter cried as she was able to detect that she was being called out and insulted

The moment his daughter cried, that was Sylus’ breaking point. He cooed his daughter, telling her sweet things in her ear while patting her small back, making her cuddle him like a baby koala to its mother.

“The deal is over. See to it that these low lives are punished for talking about my daughter like that” as Sylus stood up, both Luke and Kieran along with his other men pointed their weapons at his business partner.

“Come lil dragon, how about we go play for a bit, yeah?” Sylus cooed his daughter who giggled and snuggled her cheeks against his while Sylus brought her to his special room in his office that he built when you were pregnant with his daughter

Sylus built the extension room to his office specifically so that you can take care of your daughter if you ever got bored waiting for him during a meeting or anything else. Sylus made sure the room had everything that you would need. A big enough bed, baby clothes and essentials, a small connected bathroom (when we say small, Sylus meant the size of a regular apartment bedroom) along with some books and toys. But the best thing about it all was that it was babyproof, soundproof, and safe from potential disaster.

By the time you finished cooking dinner, you went over to the playmate, about to wake your daughter up when you realised she was nowhere to be seen.

Immediately, you frantically rushed to Sylus’ meeting room where Luke and Kieran were cleaning up the place and pointed at the extended room. Without wasting anytime, you opened the door to see your daughter fell asleep on Sylus’ chest while he patted her small back, watching some cartoons for babies.

You smiled at the sight, walking closer and grabbing a blanket to wrap around yourself with your husband who welcomed you with an open arm and smile and your baby girl.

Sylus kissed the side of your head, apologising for not bringing your daughter back when he noticed her coming into the meeting room. “Sorry sweetie, I can’t help it when she crawled all the way to me and even extended her little hands at me. You know I’m weak for her and you”

Smiling, you shake your head and kissed his cheek. “As long as there’s no violence or cursing in front of her, right?” Sylus immediately shook his head. “Never. Not while I’m around”

“Then all is good” you laid your head on Sylus’ shoulder while he used his free hand to stroke your hair. “By the way, where’s your business partner? How did they react when they saw our babygirl in here?”

Sylus stopped stroking your hair for a moment before giving you a shrug. “That’s non of your concern sweetie. But I’ll tell you this much. Anyone who made our lil dragon cry will get the wrath of her dragon father”

Shaking your head, you decided to not further question him and enjoyed this moment with your little family while Luke and Kieran secretly cooed at the sight, taking lots of pictures to keep for all of you.

[ierr]

They call you pretty

lineup; s. nagi, m. reo, i. sae, i. rin, and s. baro(u)

a. n; hey guys! I don’t really have much to say, but I hope you guys enjoy the stories! but I also do have one question, if I made a discord server would ya’ll be down for that? 🤔 let me know!!

aged up!

seishiro nagi. ;

one thing that would distract him from playing that game of his was whenever you came over with your natural look wearing your glasses. he didn't know what It was about you that made him fold every time he would see you with this look, but GOD It took everything In him to not to become flustered In front of you. when you came over you seen seishiro was on his game as usual just smiling to your self sitting on his bed watching him play. you crawled to the end of his bed to where he was leaning on, throwing your legs over, placing your hands to comb through his hair. he flinched from the sudden sensation but relaxed noticing that familiar mole on your leg, he relaxed In your hands sighing. "hi baby." you mumbled, leaning over as he looked up with a lazy smile, "oh, hey." was all he said, “I missed you.” you said, leaning down to peck his lips hearing him sigh in relief feeling your lips on top of his. he missed you so much. this whole bluelock program really took a lot outta him..he had no time of sleeping in, barely anything to play video games and he couldn’t see you!! he almost died.

when he pulled away he got to see you, and boy his face went red for a second before quickly looking away. you were wearing your glasses today. you looked so pretty..when you seen how seishiro looked a little flustered you giggled scratching his scalp a little, "why you get flustered all of sudden?." you knew the answer but you wanted him to say It. seishiro shook his head, trying to focus on his game. "nothing." he mumbled but you didn't buy It, tugging against his hair a little. "shiro." you warned hearing his groan, "you look pretty.." he mumbled again with a tone that read flustered. he was embarrassed. you smiled, trailing your hands towards his chin to make him look up from his game. he had a small frown on his face with a blush covering his cheeks, "I look pretty?." looking anywhere but you, he nodded his head. "really..really pretty." he said slowly averting his eyes towards yours to stare at your e/c eyes that were covered by the frames of your glasses.

“so pretty..”

reo mikage ;

for the past hour, reo has been complaining not stop. It was driving you insane. not even a day since he got back, he’s already starting to get on nerves. though you missed this from being away from each other for awhile, you forgot how impatient he was..you guys are supposed to be going out for his first day off, but you were taking your sweet time doing your hair. "what's taking you so longgg!." he whined for the 15th time coming back to the bathroom to see you're still on the same part! Is what he thought. rolling your eyes, parting another strand of hair, "reo, I swear on my life I am going to hit you." you glared at him through the mirror who raised his hands In a defensive movement with a smirk, "It was just a little question?." he shrugged. ever since he came back from overseas with his team he’s been non stop visiting you. you assumed he was just bored, but he missed you, so much. it was cute! but he was getting on your nerves. you shook your head going back to doing your hair. he didn't walk away or say anything else, but instead leaned against the door watching you through the mirror, he took a moment to just watch you... you're as pretty as the day he met you. your e/c eyes, pretty chocolate skin, pretty lips— he felt like a lover boy all over again.

you caught noticed of this, making eye contact with him through the mirror with a raised brow. "why're you staring at me?." reo grinned once more keeping his eyes on you, "you're so pretty you know that?." he said, leaning from the wall to walk towards, sliding his hands around your waist keeping eye contact with you. "so damn pretty.." you shivered from his breath hitting your neck leaning more against him elbowing him In the chest, "shut up." he chuckled with a playful whine, "If I have to say it everyday babe, I'll remind you every. single. time." he mumbled in between pecking the side of your neck. you sighed finishing the last part of your hair, with a small smile on your face. when you were done with that final strand, you turned around to face him. "you're such a lover boy." reo shrugged taking a strand of your hair Into his hand, "I'm your lover boy though~" — "ew reo! you're so cheesy!." you shook your head playing with the back of his hairs as he chuckled, "yeah? well since you're done with your hair I can show you how cheesy I really am!." before you knew It, reo threw you over his shoulder, dangling being faced with his back wide eyed,

"chameleon boy! put me down!"

itoshi sae ;

It was currently half time. both teams going to their locker rooms to either rest for a bit or to go over a plan for the final half. while you were in the trainers room, cleaning up a bit you didn’t expect a certain pink haired to come in. when you heard foot steps and a door closing, you turned your head a little to spot sae who was holding his neck. like it was bothering him. when you asked what was wrong, he said there was a knot in his neck. so here you are, messaging the knot out. "how does that feel?." you questioned, pressing your finger on his neck hearing him groan. "good." you hummed, moving your thumb to message out the spot. you were currently in the trainers room with sae because apparently he had got a knot in his neck, and came to see you. he sat on the table as you were in between his legs, pressing your thumb into his neck, messaging it out. while you were focused on his neck, his eyes never left your face, his teal eyes boring into your e/c. you felt it. it was making you nervous feeling his eyes on you. you tried to ignore his obvious stare but your eyes couldn't help but jump to stare into his feeling his hand on your waist pulling you closer to him. "sae." you asked and he hummed still looking up at you. "something wrong?." he shook his head no, his grip slightly tightening, continuing to stare at you. you’re so pretty..the way your eyes light up with a spark, your soft smile..he felt his heart beat start to raise a little. he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

you gave him a weird stare, with a raised brow. “is there something on my face..?” beauty. he only shook his head, “you look pretty.” your eyes widen a little but felt your heart flutter. "I look pretty?." you asked, tilting your head to the side with confusion. you looked a mess!! from working with multiple players during the match because of either injury or cramps. It took a lot out of you, your hair was a bit messy, and you looked tired but that didn’t change his prospective of you. you’ve always been so pretty to him..it made his heart flutter every time he got to see you. such a beautiful women he was dating. sae nodded bringing you closer to him. this was out of nowhere. but you smiled, placing a hand on his chest. “you’re distracting me from work you know?” you squinted, and he grinned shrugging his shoulders. “like I care..” you rolled your eyes, “you better get back to your team..i’ll see you when the games over.” you leaned down a little to peck his lips who gladly accepted it.

you’re gonna be the death of him.

Itoshi rin ;

one thing about rin is, he HATES shopping. always hated it, since he was a kid, to a teen, and now in his 20’s he still hates it. he hates the time that’s being spent of walking to different kind of stores, just to either be in there to look or to take hours to decide what you want. but..when it came to you, how could he possibly say no? since it’s been awhile, since you two were together you wanted to have a date night! but the only problem was…you wanted a new dress. rin didn’t get why you wanted a new dress but he didn’t complain about it just following you into the preferred store you wanted it from. It’s been an hour. he never thought it would take a women this long to pick out what she wanted..as he sat in the same seat for the last hour he was growing more impatient. you showed a few dresses to him already, but those weren’t necessarily the ones you liked which is why it’s taking so long to decide. “okay..last dress. swear this time!” you said from the dressing room, he roller his eyes. “you said that the last time.” you can hear the sass in his tone, giggling. “well this time I swear. pinkie.” you were kind of nervous…what if he didn’t like it? you picked this dress out SPECIFICALLY for him. ugh get a grip! you bit your lip, you opened the curtain to reveal the dress you picked out.

as if everything went into slow motion, he felt his face go hot. even though the dress it self was a bit basic, you made it look good. it hugged all your curves in the right places, it made your face pop out, exposing how pretty you are.. “do you like it…?” you asked looking at him, those big e/c eyes staring at him made his heart jump. “you look pretty.” really pretty. “you think so?.” he knows so. rin nodded his head still looking at you, you’re so beautiful. when he stood up, you watched as he made his way towards to get a better look. It was perfect for you. “really beautiful..” he mumbled, making you smile placing a hand on his chest.

“I’m glad you like it.”



shoei baro(u) ;

you always loved having date night with shoei. one because, you barely see each other and second because you love to see the soft side of him. since you do watch every one of his matches, in person or on tv he acts completely different from how he acts when he’s with you. it’s like a light switch that turns on and off, with his team he’s this brutal king in the field that wants to destroy everyone vs how he’s with you. with you he’s such a gentleman and talks to you with a much softer tone than with his teammates which you found pretty funny.

“we have to leave in a few minutes!.” he shouted from the kitchen, “hold on, shoei! I can’t find my heel.” from the bedroom you can practically hear him groan, only shaking his head. searching and scrambling for your lost heel, 1 minute goes by and you finally found it, sliding it in your foot. “okay! i’m ready.” the sound of heels clicked against the floor, made him perk up. you were wearing a simple black dress with black heels with red on the bottom. his eyes softened at the sight of you. you look so beautiful. he was so distracted by how pretty you looked, he didn’t hear anything you had said, until he felt a hand on his chest. “are you paying attention?” you cocked an eyebrow at him, but when he didn’t answer you shook your head, “I said, we better get going before we’re late, sho. and why’re you staring at me like that?” you questioned tilting your head to the side, he hummed. “why else would I be looking at you.” you squinted your eyes towards him, “is there makeup smeared?” shoei rolled his eyes, “no idiot.” — “then what is it?” he gave a small smile,“you look beautiful.” your heart fluttered, giving a big smile, “am I?” he nodded his head with no shame. “you want me to say it again?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and you nodded, “I would love that..” your wish was his command.

“you look beautiful sweetheart.”

[cece693]

could you do a percy jackson x child of dionysus reader? either fem or gn?

The Vine and The Sea

pairing: percy jackson x gender neutral reader tags: child of dionysus, your the comedic relief in most situations, percy sees beyond that though, simple concept but really cute

The first time Percy Jackson noticed you, it wasn’t because you were causing chaos—though, as a child of Dionysus, that was often your specialty. It was because you were sitting on the steps of the Big House, twirling a grapevine lazily around your finger while everyone else was busy preparing for the next game of Capture the Flag.

Percy, never one to shy away from meeting new people, approached you with that signature crooked smile. “Not into bloodshed?” he teased, nodding toward the distant sounds of swords clashing in the training arena.

You looked up at him, your expression unreadable. “Oh, I’m all for a little drama,” you replied, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I just prefer mine with less bruising and more theatrics.”

Percy chuckled, plopping down beside you. “I’m Percy. You new here?”

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself. “Yeah, just got here. They weren’t too thrilled when I turned the strawberry fields into a wine vineyard, though.”

Percy blinked, unsure if you were joking. “Uh, yeah, Mr. D probably didn’t like that.”

You smirked. “Surprisingly, he didn’t mind. I think he respects the creativity. The strawberries are fine, by the way. I’m not a monster.”

Percy found himself laughing again, drawn to your sharp wit and the way you seemed to carry yourself like the world was one big stage. Over the next few days, he noticed you more and more. You had a knack for turning even the most mundane moments into something theatrical, your Dionysian flair manifesting in spontaneous bursts of laughter, color, and music.

But what really caught Percy’s attention was your ability to calm even the tensest situations. One afternoon, when Clarisse was on the verge of throttling a camper over a sparring match, you stepped in with a simple snap of your fingers. Suddenly, the air filled with the intoxicating scent of wine, and the vines creeping along the fence began to blossom. The tension dissolved into laughter as Clarisse and the camper found themselves wrapped in vines, unable to move without giggling.

“You’ve got a gift,” Percy told you later, as you both sat by the campfire.

“More like a curse,” you replied, your tone softening. “People expect me to be the life of the party, the one who fixes everything with a little magic. But it’s not always that easy.”

Percy frowned, his sea-green eyes meeting yours. “You don’t have to be what everyone expects. Trust me, I get it. Being the son of Poseidon isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, either.”

You smiled at him, a genuine warmth breaking through your usual mask of sarcasm. “Thanks, Percy. I guess we’re both trying to figure it out, huh?”

Over time, your bond with Percy deepened. He admired the way you could make him laugh, even on the darkest days, and you appreciated the way he saw through your Dionysian theatrics to the person underneath. You joined him on quests, your powers proving invaluable when diplomacy was needed more than brute force—or when monsters needed to be distracted by a particularly theatrical illusion of a Bacchanalia.

One night, as you sat together by the shoreline, the moonlight dancing on the waves, Percy turned to you, his expression unusually serious. “You know,” he said, “for someone who says they hate being the center of attention, you’ve definitely become the center of mine.”

You raised an eyebrow, your heart skipping a beat. “Is that your way of saying you like me, Seaweed Brain?”

He blushed, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

You leaned closer, the scent of salt and sea mixing with the faint aroma of grapes that always seemed to cling to you. “Good,” you whispered. “Because I like you too.”

The kiss you shared was soft and fleeting, but it was enough to cement what had been growing between you for weeks. Together, you were a force to be reckoned with—the sea and the vine, chaos and calm, perfectly intertwined.

[feinv]

konigs red flags? <3

könig’s red flags.

cw. gn!reader.

⚔︎ emotionally immature/lack of common sense/empathy

like. genuinely. you need to sit this man down and explain everything to him. and even that doesn’t guarantee that he will understand what you’re saying. being in the military, he is used to receiving commands with specific outcomes. you need to do this for that to happen. it makes sense to him only if it is logical. so when you tell him you would like him to do this or that because it would make you feel a certain way, he is staring at you like a lost sheep, because what do you even mean?

doesn’t know the difference between “will you be my girlfriend/boyfriend” vs “can i be your boyfriend.” doesn’t even know the second one exists because it is the same thing for him. 

i think when you two start getting closer, kiss each other, hang out often, and just overall get more physically touchy, he automatically assumes you are a couple and rolls with it. doesn’t even propose for you to be his partner because if you didn’t like him you wouldn’t do all that, right? right??

when his behavior leaves you with mixed signals, and you finally ask him if he even likes you, he is actually confused “what do you mean, schatz? we are together.” and when you tell him he didn’t ask you, he has the audacity to be flabbergasted with an “i had to ask??”

same thing happens when some people prefer their partner to ask them out on valentines day, and you happen to be one of them. actually has no clue why you are sad or mad with him. he had to ask? again?? if you are together, who else’s valentine would you be?? “i’m sorry, bitte. i didn’t know. why didn’t you tell me?” bright blue eyes, sheepishly staring back at you. it’s not like he is arrogant or doesn’t respect you. he is just a fuckin idiot.

⚔︎ clinginess

personal space doesn’t exist in his vocabulary, especially if you two live together. he wants to be around you 24/7 and do everything with you. you’re writing something in your journal? he scoots the chair to sit next to you and read. need to go to the bathroom? accompanies you on the way and STAYS THERE. even if you have to take a fuckin shit. nothing about you can gross him out. you are going out with your friends? okay, let him put on his cargo pants. wait, what do you mean he isn’t comi- 

⚔︎ communication issues/overly emotional and avoidant

the thing with könig is that he either doesn’t think or overthinks like there is no tomorrow. if you sit next to him on the couch and don’t cuddle him, he gaslights himself into believing you are avoiding him or don’t love him anymore. and instead of asking if you are mad at him or if he did something wrong for you to deny it and resolve the issue, he just bottles it in and distracts himself with something else — anything that will keep him busy and avoid you for the whole day before he can’t take it anymore, his need to cling to you getting ahead of him as he stumbles into the bedroom and holds onto you for his dear life.

when you two are having an argument, he might actually fucking bawl his eyes out and beg you not to leave him. of course, you weren’t going to. you are just explaining to him what he did wrong and what he can do to fix it. but he is already on his knees, gripping onto your hips so tightly with his face buried in your torso, bubbling apologies and pleas in german and how he would actually die if you leave him.

⚔︎ dry texter

especially tragic during the early stages of your relationship. you send him a selfie of you, looking as gorgeous as ever. his pupils dilating and getting replaced with literal hearts and his pants getting uncomfotably tighter. he is so lost for words that he doesn’t even know what to say because nothing can ever describe how much he loves you and how beautiful you are. so instead, he decides to do the next stupid thing — leaving you on seen or just reacting with a heart emoji.

safe to say he learns his lesson when he later sees your glossy eyes, trying his best to be more affectionate over texts, and you learn not to take his dry-ass reactions – or lack of them – too close to heart. 

he is stupid. please be patient with him.

# könig masterlist | main m.list | join the taglist

[luckykiwiii101]

i think the first thing that started EVERYTHING was the first ever (recent) distraction method success story not the one where it took the girl 1 year after trying but the one that who made her dad being a billionaire 😭 which then spiraled to everyone trying the method which ALSO then made chronically online people try so hard to discover liars. if everyone in the loa/void community would actually take the time to do research on shifting realities AND manifesting then there should be no rising suspicion that someone is lying because they magically became a fire breathing dragon.

i’ll mostly target that debunking person since i know her minion will most likely repost it so i’ll just come after both of them. the ruby thing was obviously a lie because if you were to move to china then she would obviously NOT be able to use tumblr because a LOT of social media is banned in china.

i don’t know much about the luv manifesting stuff and how people blew up into believe that shes that other girl but hey thats just the internet 😹 its actually so hilarious when people try so hard to prove someone is lying also when having no proof in return yk? like if someone were to manifest 300K in their bank rn and someone replies “proof?” and then when the other person replies “am i obligated to show you?” and then it explodes into now such and such is a liar LOL. nobody owes anyone else proof, anyone who harasses people are sick and disgusting people.

**goes out to all the people who involve themselves in post that don’t involve them**

you are a insufferable person and a pot stirrer when it comes to drama. if it hits you in the wrong way then i definitely hit a nerves and YOU are the primary source of this entire thing🤣🤣 get off the internet seeking for drama and go get a job. let alone a LIFE (which 99.9% of you LACK)

idc if they replied to the message or not. it quite literally proves my point.

anyways 💋.

I totally agree!!! There’s literally nothing they can say to redeem themselves in any way. They’re making drama because they don’t believe in themselves. Oh my godddd.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To Those Who Wait 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, virginity loss, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are tired of being the safe one so you decide to pay for some excitement.

Characters: escort!Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett

Note: yeah, I couldn’t resist.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Tony loves himself. Take care. 💖

When you’re alone, you’re not free. You are imprisoned in a cell of your own making. Inside your own body. You’re the one who threw that key away so why do you care now? 

You do. You hate that you do. You hate that your phone won’t stop vibrating. And that you know exactly why. 

You turn your legs over the side of the bed. Your eyes catch on the sparkle on your nightstand. A gold chain that isn’t yours.

The small medallion has an R on it. What was that name he used? Ransom? Doesn’t sound like a name, at least not one you’d give to anything but a rambunctious dog. 

You open the drawer and shovel the necklace inside. You slam it shut as you stand. You need to get your shit together. First thing, coffee. 

You’ve never been an optimist but you’re grateful Hugh left without you asking. That he didn’t stick around to rub your nose in the mess your made. Speaking of mess. You’ll have to throw your bedding in the wash. Maybe It’s better to burn it. 

Coffee on, a trash bag in hand, you set to overhauling your life. The sheets aren’t the only thing going. Your phone vibrates. The phone call flashes as you ignore it. 

You go back to the bedroom. A faint trace of his cologne lingers. You peel back the corners of the mattress sheet and bunch the rest of the bedding inside. You sheath it in the black plastic and tie it in a knot. 

You drag it out to the garbage chute and shove it until it drops down. You close the door heavily and return to your apartment. You drink the bitter coffee, sweet compared to your current state. You glance t your bedroom door and heave. 

You won’t even bother trying to sleep in there. Just the thought makes you uneasy. He’s ruined your safe place just like he ruined everything else. 

🛏️

The days are gruelling. Before, you didn’t mind being alone. You accepted that sentence, made what you could of it. You had hobbies. Now you don’t have the energy for them. You don’t see the point in them. Just distractions that can’t change your reality. 

Work is the only thing you can focus on. Not because it’s better, because you have to. It’s not the best job but you pay your own bills. You don’t have to rely on someone else to survive. You have yourself. It’s all you’ve ever really had.

How stupid you were to think you could ever have anything else? That someone could ever really want to have you. 

Hugh doesn’t want you. You’re not stupid. He wants to get off. It’s an ego thing or some sick fucking kink. How many guys did you hear say that ‘ugly girls are the fucking best in bed’ or ‘you can make an ugly girl do anything’. 

On your lunch, Vivica calls you. You answer if only to keep another notification from piling up. 

“Sup?” You ask dully as you break a cracker and let it crumble. 

“Oh, you know, wondering why I haven’t heard from you.” 

“Work. Busy,” you answer. You wait for a response. You cringe and make yourself speak. “What about you? What’s going on?” 

“Worried about you,” she insists. “You hate work.” 

“Sure do but it’s not really optional,” you shrug. “How was your night out?” 

“Which one? You haven’t been around.” 

You sigh, “are you mad at me?” 

“No, like I said. Worried.” She clicks her tongue, “look, that guy Curtis, he told me you’re not answering him either.” 

“And who gave you permission to give him my number?” You challenge as your scalp bristles. 

“Why didn’t you tell us about him?” 

You roll your eyes. “Well, obviously, it’s not working out so... that’s why. Same old.” 

“Seems like it could work out if you gave him a chance. He sounded pretty interested.” 

“It’s my choice,” you retort defensively. “It’s not the right fit.” 

“Cool,” she says sharply. “Sorry if I’m nosy but you haven’t told us anything about it. Or him. Or whatever is going on with you.” 

You close your eyes as they sting. You’re annoyed. You don’t want to talk about. You’re dying just to stop thinking about it. 

“Viv, you’re a good friend but you can give it up already. I’m a fucking loser and guys just aren’t that into me,” you sniff. 

“So why would he be asking about you?” 

“Please. Don’t act like you don’t know. I mean, that was a great birthday present. Probably preferable to the real thing. And I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not,” you scoff. “And no one has to pretend for me. It works perfectly.” 

“Oh, that was... everyone has toys. It wasn’t meant to be anything but fun.” 

“Sure, give the loser virgin some silicone so she can loosen up,” you spit. “You know what, I gotta get back to work.” 

She hesitates to answer, “fine. That sounds like a good idea. You're sooo busy so don’t waste your time on me. Bye.” 

“Yeah, bye.” 

You pull the phone from your cheek and tap the end button. You dab under your eyes then lean your face into your hands. Stop it. Don't be so stupid.

It wasn’t anything at all. You and Curtis. And obviously, Vivica only wanted to poke around. She probably can’t stand the idea of not having a disaster like you around to make her feel better. 

You’re just fine. You’re okay. You’re better off alone. Better for everyone that way. 

💔

Your apartment is overcrowded with the fog left behind by his intrusion. You can’t escape the stain he left on your existence. No matter how you try.

The showers don’t work. Even the bottle of wine you bought in desperation only took you back to the night at the hotel. Sleep isn’t an escape when you can’t close your eyes for more than five minutes. It’s all just meaningless. 

Everything you do is a farce. Pointless. Wake up, for what? Go to work, for what? Come home? Home?! Is that what you call this fetid place? 

A week. A week of ignoring the phone and that tick in the back of your head. A week of hearing a knock at the door that isn’t real. Of seeing shadows that aren’t there. 

Another day at your desk. Alone, despite the cubicles that pen you in, the buzz of voices on headsets, the clacking of keys, the clicking and scrolling. The trance of your denial stretches on. Your mind is not connected to the rest of you. Your fingers type without thought and your voice rises according to a script you recite by rote. 

“Hm, do you think the single king is better or the double queen?” The woman on the phone asks. You let out a sigh without censor. It’s the sixth time she’s gone back and forth. Each time you change the reservation type, you have to enter all the other details again. 

“It’s up to you, ma’am,” you utter. 

“I’m just thinking if maybe one of us wants to stay out a bit longer...” she hums. 

“I don’t care,” you blurt out and cringe. 

“Pardon?” She huffs. 

“Sorry, ma’am, nothing. Someone else was talking to me--” 

“No, no, that was extremely rude.” 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, okay?” 

“Really, because you don’t sound very sorry,” she snaps. 

You aren’t. You stay quiet. Shit. 

“I would like a manager.” She sneers. 

“Of course,” you tap hold and transfer her through. No point being upset, there’s worse things in the world. You would know. 

You take off your headset. It’s almost the end of the day anyway. You get up and refill your bottle at the fountain. There’s little expediency in your task. You’ll do one more call then clock out. 

As you return to your desk, Mallory approaches. You look up as she flips up her cat-eye glasses. You already know what she’s here about. 

“Would you like to come back and get your write-up or should I just email it over?” She asks sharply. 

You don’t care. You’ll take the flag. After five years of working there and not a blemish on your record, what’s one? You shrug. 

“Whatever works is fine with me.” 

She narrows her eyes, “problem?” 

“Nope,” you put your headset on. “Phone’s ringing.” 

You tap the answer button and swivel away from her. She puffs and stomps and walks away. You go through the usual, this time navigating the booking without issue. It’s a lot easier when people know what they want. 

You save the reservation and sign off. You just want to go to the apartment and shut your brain off. You can’t keep wondering when and if this ever stops.  

You pull on your jacket and hike up your bag. You skip the elevator and take the stairs, not wanting to bear the tedious elevator ride with people you only know by obligation. You stride out the doors ahead of a straggling group but your escape from the corporate purgatory doesn’t free you. 

You put your head down and turn along the street. You don’t get far before you hear your name. At first, you ignore it, certain that you misheard. When it comes again in that familiar voice, you groan and stop. You face Curtis reluctantly. 

“Oh, hi,” you utter dryly. 

“Yeah, hi,” he matches your tone. “You know, I’ve been texting. Calling.” 

“I’ve been busy. Work.” Your eyes stray without meaning to. 

“Is that it? Work? I’ve been worried. You couldn’t just send a courtesy text?” 

You shake your head and shrug. You can’t look at him. Then you have to face everything. 

“What did I do?” He steps closer and you back up. You roll your eyes as they burn and gesture apathetically. 

“Nothing.” 

He sighs, “I thought we were going good. I thought—I don’t get it. I don’t get you.” 

“Ha, alright,” you scoff. “Why on earth would you want to be with me?” 

“Huh?” 

“Oh, come on. Clearly, I’m a fucking loser. So, what was it? You wanted to fuck the virgin and go back and brag to all your buddies?” You sneer and stare past his shoulder. 

“No, that never mattered to me. Guess you think I’m the loser,” he retorts. 

You shrug again. 

“What is your problem? What the hell?” He gets even closer. “Something... something happened.” 

“Nothing happened,” you try to look at him and wince. You’re going to be sick if you do. “I’m not even a virgin so... big loss.” 

“That’s not--” he sputters. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

“No--” 

“Don’t say nothing--” 

“Nothing,” you snarl and step back. “You don’t want to be with me and I’m not going to pretend.” 

You spin and go to march forward. You stop short before you can race away. Curtis rams into your back as he goes to follow. He grabs your arms lightly as he steps back. You stare dumbly at the figure strutting toward you. 

Hugh smirks as he waves and you pull away from Curtis. You turn toward the street and stumble back as a car honks, coming close to the curb as you do. You’re yanked back again, this time harder. 

“Christ, you’re going to get hurt--” Curtis says, his voice overridden by another. 

Hugh whistles and calls your name again, “hey, baby.” 

You close your eyes as you try to hide from reality. Your feet won’t move, or your arms. You stand there, shaking as his footsteps echo over the sidewalk. Curtis lets you go. 

“Oh,” he utters. 

“Hey, where ya going?” You’re grabbed from the other side and you wrench away from Hugh, spinning to face both of them as your eyes snap open. 

“Right,” Curtis says grimly. You finally look at him as his eyes scale the other man. 

“Who’s this?” Hugh asks as he reaches for you again. 

“No, go away. Both of you.” 

“Ah, come on, baby, haven’t seen you since the weekend. That was lots of fun,” he winks. “Late night.” 

Curtis shifts and tilts his head. He glares at Hugh as his hands furl and unfurl. Your legs quake dangerously. 

“I said go,” you hiss. 

“I think you owe us an explanation,” Curtis says evenly. His cadence is worse than anger, it’s hurt. 

“I can explain but not with him here.” 

“You’ll talk now that you’ve been caught, huh?” He looks at you and you recoil. 

“Never mind,” you say. “Whatever you think it is, that’s what it is.” 

He stares at you, his chest rising and falling. 

“Oh, yeah, we’re fuck buddies,” Hugh interjects. “She gets bored and well, I can’t say no. She's feral. She begs me--” 

“Shut up!” You bark at him. 

“I mean, I’m not complaining. It’s an open sorta deal but seems like maybe there’s a few things she didn’t mention to you, pal,” he continues. 

“He’s not--” you turn back to Curtis, “he’s not that. He isn’t. He’s a mistake.” 

“Oh, a mistake? Was I a mistake when you were cumming all over me--” 

You spin and shove him as hard as you can. “Fuck off!”  

He grabs your arms and you wrestle with him. You stagger around under his strength before you’re nearly bowled over completely. Curtis jabs him in the chest and inserts himself between the two of you. You rub your forearm as you stare at his back. 

“She said go.” 

“To you,” Hugh scoffs. 

“No, you. Get out of here,” he squares his shoulders. 

“I’m not afraid of you. I mean, it’s pretty fucking pathetic to defend that slut after she--” 

Curtis doesn’t hesitate. His arm cocks and swings so quickly, you don’t realise what happened until the crack and the other man’s grunt. Hugh retreats as you look around Curtis. He cradles his jaw as you stay hidden behind the other. 

“Don’t fucking call her that.” He growls. 

“Fucking simp,” Hugh spits blood onto the sidewalk. “You really gonna be cucked like that? When I had her on my dick like a glove--” 

You notice the crowd gathering near the front of the building. You recognise a few of your coworkers. As Curtis steps forward, you catch his arm. 

“Please, he’s not worth it.” 

“You are,” Curtis insists. 

“Curtis,” you squeeze his sleeve. You don’t want him to get hurt by you. Not more than he already is. “I’ll tell you everything. Please.” 

He takes a breath and lets it out slow. Hugh straightens and pinches his nose, “I’d kick your fucking ass if I wasn’t wearing prada,” he keeps his head back and turns away, “prick.” He stops and glances back, “don’t worry, baby. You’ll see me around... you’ll feel me.” 

Curtis sways as if he might go after him but thinks better of it. You let him go and wring the strap of your bag as you watch him. You're hollow. You don’t think you can tell him everything. 

“Tell me then,” he throws an arm out and turns to you. 

“I...” you look around. “Not here.” 

His jaw grits and he exhales heavily, “fine, where?” 

“Uh... we could... there’s a juice place nearby. It’s never busy.” 

“Sure,” he pushes his shoulders up. 

You look down and turn away. You’re melting in horror. He hates you. You feel it roiling off of him. Your only hope is that he hasn’t walked away. Not yet. He could’ve made this easier and just not have shown up at all. 

You enter the juice bar. “I’ll get something so they don’t kick us out.” 

He sniffs and sidles past you. He goes to the table in the corner. You go up to the counter. The employees are chattering in the lull. You pay for a bottled kombucha then retreat to the table. 

You climb up on the seat. He stares past you at the window. His fingers tap on the table. Your lips part and his gaze darts over to you. 

“Well?” He growls. 

You shudder. How do you say it? Don’t explain, just say it. Once he knows, it won’t matter what excuses you have. He’ll go and you’ll be left with a bottle of fermented juice you don’t even like. Maybe this is how it gets better. Just end it. 

“He’s a prostitute.” 

He twitches and narrows his eyes, “what?” 

“Hugh, that guy. I hired him to fuck me.” You say it a bit too plainly and grimace. “Look, I was... the first time was before me and you... but I...” your eyes burn and you flick them to the ceiling. “I don’t know why I’m even trying to save anything. I was desperate. For anything. I went online, I found an escort, and I paid half my savings for the worst night of my life.” 

“First time?” He plucks out the words. There’s the twist of the dagger. 

“He showed up again. I... I’m not going to relive it just so you can ditch me so, please, that’s all you need to know. I’m a sad little woman who paid to get rid of her virginity. At thirty years old. Yeah, yeah, that’s why I know you don’t want to be with me.” 

You look at the table, hoping you might become a part of it. That you’ll fade into the air and be nothing. Feel nothing. He’s quiet. The low murmur of music grows to a cacophony as you await the inevitable. 

“You didn’t want to?” He asks at last. 

You rub your cheek, eyes glued to the table. “I did it, that’s what matters.” 

“You didn’t tell me.” 

“What-- what was I supposed to say?” 

“Anything. Something. You could’ve just answered me,” he reaches across the table, past the bottle of unwanted kombucha. Like you, dejected and disgusting. “Hey...” 

“I have the texts. And I can show you the deposit, if you really don’t think I’m that stupid,” you plunge your hand into your bag as you talk. You take it out and tap around. 

“Look at me,” he pleads. 

“Really, it’s right here--” you flick your thumbs and open WhatsApp, “the messages—wait? No. My account...” you thumb around and drag down the menu from the top. You search your notifications. ‘Account Deleted due to misuse report’. No... 

“It’s gone,” you drop your phone on the table. “I have no proof--” 

“I said look at me,” he repeats, grittier than before. 

You quiver and make yourself obey. You look at him as he leans to reach further across, “I believe you.” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t you? Look at me. I have to pay for it--” 

“Stop,” he commands. “I want you to stop that. Now.” 

“It’s true--” 

“I don’t care about him. About a stupid mistake. Shit happens. I’ve made mistakes too,” he wiggles his hand. “If I didn’t like you, do you think I’d be here?” 

You peek down at his hand. His knuckles are bruised. You frown and daintily touch his fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“He deserved it,” he turns his hand and clasps onto yours. “Want me to kill him?” 

You look at him again and furrow your brow, “stop, I don’t feel like laughing.” 

His expression is grey. Serious. For a moment, you really think he means it. Then he squeezes your hand and his face eases. 

“I had to try,” he mutters. 

You don’t know what to do. You’re entirely unprepared for this. You didn’t expect to see him again, let alone for him to just forgive you for ignoring him, lying to him, or for just being you. 

“You wanna come over?” He asks. 

“Oh, um... I don’t know.” 

“I hope you don’t think I’m like him. I’m not asking for that. I think you maybe you shouldn’t go home,” he explains. “Not after—he seems like the type to hold a grudge, doesn’t he?” 

“Uh, oh, yeah.” 

He's right. Hugh came back after he got his money. Why wouldn't he show up again?

“And we don’t have to watch scary movies. Maybe something less... anxiety-inducing for now,” he offers. 

“Yeah, maybe,” you breathe as the weight slightly lifts from your chest. Is this how it goes? Do people just work things out? 

“But I wouldn’t mind a little bit of cuddling...” he looks around evasively, “if you can keep it secret.” 

You smile. For the first time since you last saw him. “Oh, I’m great at secrets, aren’t I?” 

“As long as that’s the only one you keep,” he replies, his tone hanging ominously over you. You can’t quite tell if it’s a joke or a threat. 

🩶

Curtis takes you back to your apartment. He waits at the door, his paranoia feeding your own. Does he really think Hugh would come back that soon? Yet, what has he done to make you think otherwise? The fact he came back at all is scary on its own. 

You grab only a few things. Something to sleep in and an outfit for the next day, along with your phone charger and a few necessities to keep yourself human. You don’t look back as you leave. You’re happy to be away, if only for a while. 

At his place, you’re restless. You don’t want to be. You’re exhausted. The days filled with anticipation of the world shattering around has turned to the fatigue of fallout.  

“You good?” He asks as he drags his palm over his stubbly hair. 

“Good,” you lie. 

“He can’t get you here.” 

You nod and hum. 

“But that’s not what you’re worried about,” he says. 

“Why... not to sound ungrateful but why... why?” 

“You know, a lot of guys might get tired of having to repeat themselves but if I gotta tell ya every day how much I like you, so be it. As long as you’re there to hear it.” 

You nudge him without thinking and he tilts his head. 

“Sorry, it’s just... you don’t look like the cheesy type.” 

“Not cheesy. Honest.” 

That word stings. It could be nothing but it almost feels like a lash. You weren’t. You lied. You ran away. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” you turn away. 

“You don’t gotta. I’m just... checking. You hungry? I could get us some pizza.” 

“Oh,” you think about it but not very long as your stomach growls. You can’t remember if you had anything but coffee. 

“Is that a yes? What do you like? Anchovies girl, I know it.” 

You scrunch up your face and he snorts, “I don’t know what’s sexier,” he drawls. “Your smile or the way you look when you’re annoyed.” 

You roll your eyes, “stop.” 

“Stop what?” 

“I’m not... sexy,” you look away. 

“You are,” he insists. 

“No... I...” 

“Let’s see; eyes, gorgeous. Lips, delicious, and the way your booty kinda...” he traces with his fingers and your cheeks set alight. 

“Curtis,” you gasp. 

“A guy can’t help but notice. I also love a thrill and you scare me. Just a little,” he smirks. “So, toppings? Not anchovies.” 

“Hot peppers and whatever you like.” 

“Spicy. I knew it,” he proclaims. 

“Ugh, stop being so lame,” you chirp. 

“You first,” he throws back. “Go, get cozy. I’ll order.” 

You nod and give a sheepish smile, or an attempt at one. You take your bag into the front room and take out your pajamas. You go into the bathroom and lock yourself in. You sit on the edge of the tub and try to set yourself straight. 

There’s a glimmer of disbelief in you. It’s too good to be true. Did you really find a good one? 

You change as his voice drones from the other side of the door then quiets. You can’t shake that uneasiness that keeps you precarious. You still can’t trust that it won’t all break. 

You come out with your clothes under your arm, sure not to make too much noise. You tiptoe down and peek into the front room. Curtis stands with his back to you, by the chair where you left your bag. You creep up behind him and lean to see what he’s doing. 

At first you assume it’s his phone but the charm on the phone case assures you otherwise. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

He doesn’t startle. He merely faces you and clutches the phone tight. His knuckles strain and you look between his eyes and the cell. 

“Curtis?” 

“He’s texting you again.” 

“How? He deleted the conversation,” you try to see the phone and he holds it away from you. “Hey, give me the phone--” 

“Burner, I bet,” he backs away and puts his attention back to the screen. “Oldest trick in the book.” 

“Just block the number,” you say as you follow but he stays beyond your grasp. “Turn the phone off. It’s not--” 

“You have to promise,” he rears on you and you stagger. 

“Promise?” 

“To tell me. If, when he messages or calls or anything. I have to know.” 

“You don’t think—I don’t want him around.” 

“I know you don’t. I want to keep him away.” He insists. 

“Right, but--” 

“And you did lie to me. If I didn’t find out today, what’s to say he didn’t hurt you? If you really don’t want him around, it sounds like maybe you’re scared of him. Like he did more than you’re telling me--” 

“Curtis, I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” you swallow. 

“Neither do I. Do you think I like it? Thinking about you with someone else?” 

You whimper, “I thought... I thought... it was okay.” 

“I’m not...” he scratches his jaw, the friction coarse and loud. “I’m trying to help. I’m trying to move forward and if we’re going to do that, he can’t be around. Ever. And you can’t lie. That includes not telling me things.” 

“I know, I’m sorry, I...” you avert your eyes guiltily. “I’ll never forgive myself.” 

He exhales and lowers the phone. He comes closer and holds it out to you. You take it without looking at him. 

“No, I’m sorry. I just... I got worked up when I saw what he sent.” He opens his arms, “come here.” 

He pulls you against him, your head on his shoulder. He holds you like that. You shiver against him. 

“What did he send?” You croak. 

“I’m sure you can guess the kind of nasty things he said,” he pets your head. “I got rid of it. And if he shows his face, I’ll get rid of him too.” 

You wrap your arms around him but find little comfort in his embrace. Something about his tone unsettles you. Get rid of him... He sounds like he means it. Like more than just blocking his number. How well do you really know him? 

[fanficgirlysmhh]

Title: At what Cost

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Warnings: fighting, swearing, emotional distress

Word count: ~3200

Summary: love isnt always easy

The silence between you and Jude is unbearable. The house in Madrid feels too big, too quiet, and far too empty, even with him in it. It’s been five years since you moved here, leaving behind everything you loved in London. Five years of loving him fiercely, but also five years of missing yourself.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, your laptop closed, untouched for the day. You’d tried to distract yourself with work, studying, or anything else, but nothing could shake the storm brewing inside you.

Jude walks in, his bag slung over his shoulder, fresh from training. His presence fills the room, but the emptiness in your chest remains.

“Hey,” he says, offering you a small smile as he sets his bag down. “Long day. You okay?”

You look up at him, your emotions barely held together. “Do you ever think about what I gave up to be here?”

The question hangs in the air. Jude freezes, caught off guard. “What?”

“I left my job, my friends, my family… my life. For you,” you say, your voice trembling. “And now I’m here, in Madrid, in this huge house, feeling like I don’t belong. Feeling like I’ve lost myself.”

Jude steps closer, his expression tightening. “What are you talking about? You’ve always known this is my career, my dream.”

“I know!” you cry, your voice cracking. “And I’ve supported you every step of the way, haven’t I? But what about me, Jude? What about my dreams? My life? I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Jude’s face hardens, his frustration evident. “You act like I’m the villain here. You knew what you were signing up for when you moved here. You knew football was my life.”

“And you’re mine!” you yell, tears spilling over now. “But it feels like I’m not even a part of yours anymore. Do you know how lonely I’ve been? How overwhelming it is to watch you live this big, glamorous life while I’m here, drowning?”

Jude runs a hand through his hair, his voice rising to match yours. “I’m doing this for us! Everything I do, it’s to build a life for us! And you don’t even try to make this work. You could get a job, make friends, do something other than sit here waiting for me!”

The words cut deep. You stare at him, hurt and disbelief swirling in your chest. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Just sitting around, waiting for you?”

“Well, isn’t it?” he snaps, but there’s regret in his eyes the moment the words leave his mouth.

You take a shaky breath, the tears now falling freely. “I don’t go out because I hate the spotlight. I hate the cameras, the questions, the way people look at me like I’m just your arm candy. And then there are the photos—photos of you with other women, Jude. Always other women.”

“They mean nothing,” he says firmly, his voice softening. “They’re just photos, and you know that.”

“But they mean something to me!” you shout, the pain in your voice raw. “Because I’m the one here, fighting to keep this together, while you’re out there living a life that feels like it doesn’t include me anymore. I moved my entire life for you, Jude, and I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Fuck”

—-

The fight leaves both of you drained. You stand there in the kitchen, the tension so thick you can barely breathe. Jude stares at you, his chest rising and falling as he processes everything you’ve just said.

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shake your head, brushing past him. “I don’t want to hear anything right now.”

You leave the room and retreat upstairs, the weight of the argument pressing down on you. You cry yourself to sleep that night, unsure of what the morning will bring.

—-

When you wake up, your eyes are swollen from crying, your chest still heavy with emotion. You grab your phone, intending to scroll mindlessly in an attempt to numb the pain. But the first thing you see stops you in your tracks.

It’s an Instagram post. Jude’s Instagram post.

There’s a carousel of photos—one of you and him in London when you first started dating, one of you laughing on the couch in your Madrid home, one of you kissing his cheek after a match. The caption reads:

“Five years ago, I met the love of my life. She moved across countries for me, gave up everything to be by my side, and never stopped believing in me, even when I didn’t make it easy.

She hates the spotlight, so you won’t see her at every event. But she’s the reason I get up every morning and give everything I have. Because without her, none of this would mean anything.

I love you. More than football, more than anything. I don’t say it enough, but I couldn’t bear a life without you. Thank you for staying, even when it’s hard. I promise I’ll do better.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you scroll through the comments—fans and teammates alike praising the post, sending love and support. For the first time, it feels like the world knows who you really are, not just Jude Billingham’s girlfriend, but his partner, his anchor.

You set the phone down and head downstairs, your heart pounding.

Jude is sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in his hands. He looks up when he hears you, his expression uncertain.

“I saw your post,” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion.

He stands, setting the coffee aside. “I meant every word.”

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. He holds you tightly, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “And I’m so sorry. For everything. I want to fix this—I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your hands resting on his chest. “I don’t want you to give up your dream, Jude. I just need to feel like I have a life too. Like I’m not losing myself for us.”

“Then let’s figure it out,” he says, his hands cupping your face. “You can split your time between London and Madrid. Take your old job back if you want. And when football’s done, we’ll move back to London for good. That’s always been the plan, hasn’t it?”

You nod, tears spilling over again. “I can wait for that. As long as we’re in this together.”

You stay there in his arms, the weight of the past few days slowly lifting. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.

For now, it’s enough.

[mxtxfanatic]

I don’t have access to my laptop that has all my posts on it, so bear with me. I agree with you that a lot of this discourse comes from people substituting themselves into what they feel like is the jc-wwx relationship, so they expect wwx to divulge all his trauma to jc because “well they’re brothers and I’d want my sibling to tell me things because I love my siblings, therefore jc must love wwx and want the same.” However, I don’t agree with anything else, because I think that this is a misreading of wwx’s character and the scenes listed. For one: jc and wwx are not brothers, no, not even adopted. Wwx was not adopted. They do not see each other as brothers and are never shown in the novel to view each other that way. Jc and wwx have a friendship that devolved almost completely into a superior/subordinate relationship that then ended the moment wwx defected from the Jiang.

I say this in a later response in this very post thread, but everything post-fall of lotus pier isn’t about whether wwx wants to share his hurts but whether he can. We see pre-fall wwx complain about hurts and injuries all the time, with friends and strangers alike. So to that, jyl not wanting to answer a personal question about love has nothing to do with whether or not wwx would share his pains with her, because her aversion to the romance question is about her avoiding her own hurts surrounding jzx, not wanting to brush wwx off. Wwx wasn’t asking about romance for himself but about her feelings about it, because he wanted to understand why and how she could continue to like jzx despite his mistreatment of her. Jyl is allowed to brush that off, and wwx is fine with her having done so. On the other hand, wwx can’t share his post-fall traumas with jyl (or anyone else) outside of being upset about the Jiang Clan massacre because anything else would invite her to ask questions that could lead to revealing the golden core exchange. He can’t allow that to happen.

Moving on, wwx isn’t “annoyed” with mianmian for crying. Mianmian isn’t crying over having almost been injured; she’s crying because wwx got injured by taking a hit meant for her. He’s trying to tease her out of her hysteria by purposely misattributing what’s actually upset her, which is that she feels responsible for his injury—an injury that is not her fault and he does not want her to self-blame for.

And finally, to your point about wwx not accepting jc’s apology: a running theme in the novel is debts owed and repaid through verbal and non-verbal acknowledgements. Lwj takes issue with wwx thanking him because he takes it as wwx acknowledging owing him a debt. Wen Qing and Wen Ning have that same idea around thanking and apologizing. The part that’s missing from your guanyin temple scene analysis is right after wwx refuses jc’s apology, the narration says that there has been so many bad events between them that one can’t know who is truly at fault, i.e. who really owes who. Wwx isn’t brushing off jc because he doesn’t care about things that jc did or doesn’t want to revisit his traumas, but because to accept jc’s apology would mean that wwx is accepting a debt from jc, continuing their debtor-debtee relationship when all wwx wants is to finally be free of any and all entanglements with the other man. It would also be shameless behavior completely ooc for wwx.

What’s not ooc for wwx to do is express his hurts and seek comfort. We literally see him do this all the time with lwj and with jyl in some early flashbacks. The few times he holds in his pains are when the situation makes it inappropriate for him to seek attention over them—such as when he brushes off his brand in the cave because he feels like lwj’s broken and chewed on leg is more urgent, the situation with mianmian, or when lwj gets upset at him for taking on jin ling’s curse mark. Of these three examples, in 2 of them, wwx didn’t even remember his injury because he’s been distracted by a more pressing matter. Outside of that, he looks for validation and comfort from those he cares about, and there’s nothing about him being “socialized as a man to not dwell on his emotions” that prevents this. Remembering the good and not dwelling on what others owe you ≠ not dwelling on your emotions wholesale.

Why does fandom act like wei wuxian kept it a secret that he was thrown into the burial mounds? He’s said it twice so far, and both times it’s been to jiang cheng (and once to lan wangji). Is this another frankencanon thing where people just can’t remember what’s been said in which adaptation vs. the novel?

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRIS STURNIOLO

A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend’s Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo—your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there’s no escaping Chris—or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?

story warning: filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!

word count: 9k

CHAPTER FOUR:

The next morning, sunlight streamed through your blinds, and you groaned, pulling the blanket over your head. Your body ached from the chaos of the night before, and your head felt foggy from the alcohol. You had no idea what time it was, but the silence in the apartment told you one thing—everyone else was already gone.

Your door creaked open, and you heard Ava’s voice, light and teasing. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

You peeked out from under the blanket, squinting at her. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. “Matt, Nick, and Chris left a couple of hours ago. They had some stuff to do today.”

Your stomach twisted slightly at the mention of Chris, but you shoved the thought aside. “And you didn’t wake me up?” you grumbled, sitting up and running a hand through your messy hair.

Ava rolled her eyes. “You looked dead to the world. Plus, I ordered breakfast for us, so you can’t be mad.”

At the mention of food, your stomach growled, and you sighed. “Fine. You’re forgiven.”

She smirked and turned on her heel. “Come on. It should be here any minute.”

You dragged yourself out of bed, pulling on a hoodie and sweats before heading downstairs. The smell of coffee hit you first, followed by the sight of Ava unpacking a delivery bag on the kitchen counter. She’d ordered pancakes, eggs, and bacon, along with a large iced coffee that she handed to you as soon as you walked in.

“Here,” she said, sliding the coffee across the counter. “Figured you’d need this.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking a sip and sighing in relief. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Ava grinned, sitting down with her plate. “Well, there’s another party tonight at the campus. Same crowd as last time, but it’s supposed to be bigger. Figured we could go and, you know, network.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Network?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow as you sat across from her. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

She laughed, taking a bite of her pancake. “I mean, it’s technically true. We wanna go to that school, right? Think of it as research.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Right. Research.”

“Seriously, though,” Ava said, her tone shifting slightly. “It’s a good chance to check out the vibe, meet people, and maybe get your mind off certain… distractions.”

You didn’t need her to elaborate. The events of the night before—Chris’s hands on your waist, his lips leaving trails of heat along your skin—flashed through your mind, and you quickly shoved the thought away.

“Yeah, maybe,” you said, focusing on your plate. “We’ll see.”

Ava narrowed her eyes at you, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she took another sip of her coffee and started scrolling through her phone. “Party starts around nine. We’ll leave around nine, sound good?”

You nodded, trying to act casual even as your mind raced. The idea of running into Chris again—after everything—left you both nervous and excited, though you’d never admit it out loud. Whatever had happened between you last night felt like the beginning of something… dangerous. But as much as you wanted to avoid it, a part of you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.

“Alright,” Ava said, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Finish your coffee, and let’s figure out what the hell we’re wearing tonight.”

You groaned, already dreading the hours of outfit planning ahead. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the anticipation building in your chest. Tonight could either be a fresh start—or the beginning of something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

As you sat across from Ava, finishing your breakfast, she glanced up from her phone, a sly grin tugging at her lips. “Oh, by the way,” she said, her tone casual in a way that immediately made you suspicious, “Matt wants to come to the party tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow, already piecing together where this was going. “Okay, and?”

“And,” she continued, drawing the word out as she took another sip of her coffee, “I already asked Chris if he wanted to come, too.”

You nearly choked on your iced coffee, setting it down with a loud clink. “What the fuck, Ava? Why would you do that?”

She shrugged, entirely unbothered. “Because I know the way your mind works.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped, though your cheeks were already burning.

Ava leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand as she fixed you with a knowing look. “It means I can tell he wants you bad, Y/N.”

Your stomach twisted, and you glared at her. “No, he doesn’t. Not like that.” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “I fucked him over. He’s still pissed at me. He literally said it.”

Ava rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “Please. He might be pissed, but trust me—he’ll get over it. You saw the way he was looking at you last night. He was insane when you kissed Matt and had crazy jealous eyes all night!”

You crossed your arms, your irritation growing. “That doesn’t mean anything. Chris looks at everyone like that. He’s become a whore! Was that not already obvious?”

“Sure,” Ava said, her smirk widening. “But he doesn’t pull everyone into his lap and suck on their tits for five minutes straight.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Oh my God, Ava.”

She laughed, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. “What? I’m just stating the obvious. You two have some serious tension, and this party is the perfect opportunity to, I don’t know, work it out.”

You peeked at her through your fingers, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, because a college party is definitely the place to resolve years of awkwardness and bad decisions.”

“Better than nothing,” Ava said with a shrug. “Look, all I’m saying is, he wouldn’t have let things get as far as they did last night if he didn’t want you. And judging by the way you’re acting, I’m guessing you want him, too.”

Your face burned as you stood, grabbing your empty plate and coffee cup. “I’m done having this conversation.”

“Suit yourself,” Ava said, still grinning as you walked to the sink. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when he shows up tonight and makes it very obvious how he feels.”

You didn’t reply, your thoughts too jumbled to form a coherent response. 

An hour later, the familiar sound of a car horn echoed outside your apartment. You and Ava were lounging on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through your phones when she suddenly jumped up. “That’s Matt!” she said, grabbing her purse.

“Why is he honking like we’re in a middle school carpool?” you muttered, but you stood up anyway, slipping into your sneakers and grabbing your jacket.

“Because he’s Matt,” Ava said with a shrug, as if that explained everything.

When you stepped outside, Matt was leaning halfway out of the driver’s seat window, grinning like a maniac. “Come on, ladies! We’ve got groceries to buy, and I’m not spending all day waiting for your asses!”

“Matt. Shut the fuck up.” you called, rolling your eyes as you slid into the backseat.

“Yeah fuck you. What are you, someone’s dad?” Ava teased as she got into the passenger seat.

Matt smirked, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “No, but I am someone’s boyfriend. And I’ve got a say in what goes into your fridge if I’m spending half my life here.”

“Oh, you’ve got a say now?” Ava asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Damn right I do,” Matt shot back, turning the car out of your driveway. “Last time I opened your fridge, the only thing in there was a bag of shredded cheese and half a bottle of ketchup. That’s a crime.” He faked gagging at the ketchup.

“That’s survival,” Ava corrected, crossing her arms.

“Survival for a raccoon,” you chimed in from the backseat, laughing when Ava flipped you off over her shoulder.

“See? Y/N agrees with me,” Matt said smugly.

The bickering continued all the way to Market Basket, with Ava teasing Matt about his questionable eating habits and Matt firing back about how she always stole his leftovers. By the time you all parked and made your way into the store, the three of you were already laughing like idiots.

Inside the store, the chaos continued. Ava grabbed a cart, but Matt insisted on pushing it, claiming it was “a man’s job.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Ava said, smirking as Matt dramatically flexed his arms.

“Gotta make myself useful,” he said with a wink, steering the cart toward the produce section. “Alright, what’s first on the list?”

“We need veggies,” you said, pulling out your phone to check the list Ava had scribbled down earlier.

“Boring,” Matt said, wrinkling his nose. “Let’s skip that and go straight to frozen pizza.”

“No way,” Ava said, grabbing a head of lettuce and tossing it into the cart. “You eat like a toddler, Matt. We’re getting real food.”

“You say that like frozen pizza isn’t real food,” he argued, but Ava ignored him, reaching for a bag of carrots.

You grabbed a cucumber and held it up, grinning. “Matt, does this count as real food?”

“Depends,” Matt said, smirking. “Are you eating it or using it to fuck yourself?”

“Both,” you replied, making Ava laugh so hard she nearly dropped the carrots.

The three of you weaved through the aisles, picking out snacks, debating over cereal brands, and occasionally tossing random items into the cart just to annoy each other. At one point, Matt grabbed a jumbo box of Pop-Tarts and held it up like it was a trophy.

“Ava,” he said seriously, “this is essential.”

Ava stared at him, deadpan. “Put it back.”

“But it’s essential,” he whined, clutching the box dramatically.

“No,” she said firmly, trying not to smile.

You snatched the box from him and put it in the cart. “She’s no fun, Matt. I got you.”

“You’re my favorite,” he said, grinning as Ava rolled her eyes.

When you got to the candy aisle, Ava and Matt’s playful dynamic was on full display. Ava grabbed a bag of Sour Patch Kids, and Matt immediately grabbed it out of her hand, holding it high above her head.

“Matt!” she shrieked, jumping to grab it.

“Say please,” he said smugly, holding it just out of reach.

“Matt, I swear to God—”

“Say it!”

“Fine!” Ava huffed, crossing her arms and looking up at him with her big eyes that she knew got him every time. “Please.”

Matt handed her the bag with a smirk, and she smacked him on the arm. “You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah but you’re still gonna let me tap that later,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head.

You watched the two of them with a mix of amusement and affection. Their dynamic was chaotic but sweet, and it was impossible not to smile at the way they teased each other.

By the time you reached the checkout line, the cart was overflowing with a mix of essentials, junk food, and impulse buys. Matt grabbed a pack of gum from the rack and tossed it into the cart, smirking when Ava glared at him.

“You don’t even chew gum,” she said.

“Maybe I’m starting a new habit,” he replied, grinning and as the final products crossed the checkout he didn’t hesitate to swipe his card, paying for it all despite Ava’s protest.

As you helped unload the cart, Matt turned to you with a playful grin. “You know, Y/N, you’re like my honorary sister in law at this point.”

“Oh, great,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Another sibling to annoy me.”

“Exactly,” he said, ruffling your hair like you were a kid. 

Ava laughed, handing you a bag of groceries. “Does that mean you’re gonna put a ring on it soon?”

“If I told you it would ruin the surprise, sweetheart,”  Matt said, wrapping an arm around her waist as the three of you headed back to the car.

The drive back to the apartment was just as chaotic as the rest of the trip, with Matt singing off-key to the radio and Ava threatening to throw him out of the car. By the time you got home and started unloading the groceries, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed so much.

Back at the apartment, the three of you stumbled through the door, arms loaded with grocery bags. Ava dropped hers onto the counter with a dramatic groan. “Why do we always buy so much stuff? My arms are going to fall off.”

“Maybe because someone insisted on five kinds of cereal,” Matt quipped, setting his bags down with ease. “And let’s not forget your ‘essential’ lettuce.”

You smirked, grabbing a bag of chips from one of the bags. “And the Pop-Tarts Matt definitely didn’t need.”

“Hey, those are fuel,” Matt said, pointing at you with mock seriousness. “Athlete’s food.”

“For what sport?” Ava teased, unpacking a carton of eggs. “Competitive snacking?”

Matt tossed a bag of apples at her, which she caught with a laugh. “Keep talking, Ava. I’ll remember this when you’re asking me to touch you later.

“What’s the plan? Who’s driving?” you chimed in, setting a loaf of bread on the counter.

“Not me,” Ava said immediately, grabbing a tub of ice cream and sticking it in the freezer. “I want to drink.”

“Same,” you added, popping open a bag of chips. “So… Matt?”

Matt groaned. “Why do I have to do it? I want to drink too.”

“Because you’re responsible,” Ava said, fluttering her lashes dramatically.

Matt rolled his eyes. “Nah, no way.”

“You’re already unloading,” you pointed out, grinning. “Might as well keep the streak alive.”

“Y/N’s got a point,” Ava added with a smirk. “You’re doing great, babe.”

Matt muttered something under his breath about “ungrateful freeloaders,” but he kept unpacking. When he pulled out his phone and glanced at it, Ava tilted her head. “What’re you doing?”

“Calling Chris,” Matt said, holding the phone to his ear. “I always drive. I wanna have drunk sex tonight so Chris can pick up this one for once.”

You and Ava exchanged a look as Matt walked toward the living room, the phone pressed to his ear. After a moment, you heard him start talking.

“Hey, Chris. If you’re coming to the party tonight, you’re driving.”

You heard the faint sound of Chris groaning through the phone.

“You owe me for the last time you accidentally—- Yeah that’s what I thought.” Matt said. 

There was a pause, then a muffled, sarcastic response from Chris.

“Perfect,” Matt said, ignoring the tone. “See you soon. And don’t even think about bailing—Y/N and Ava are counting on you.”

He hung up and turned back to the kitchen, a triumphant smirk on his face. “He’s on his way. Under protest, but he’s coming.”

“Shocking,” you muttered, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

As you finished putting the groceries away, Ava turned to Matt with a grin. “Okay, new plan. Skincare.”

Matt frowned. “What? Why?”

“Because,” Ava said. “Your skin needs help, and you’re not going to this party looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Come on, Matt,” you added, smirking. “Don’t you want to look glowy and fresh?”

He groaned. “You two are ridiculous.”

But ten minutes later, Matt was sitting on a stool in the bathroom, a headband pushing his hair back as Ava slathered a cleanser onto his face. You sat on the counter, watching the scene unfold with barely contained laughter.

“You look so cute, Matt,” Ava teased and you took out your phone, snapping a picture with.

“Delete that,” he grumbled, though he didn’t move.

“No way. This is gold.”

Ava finished the cleanser and grabbed a serum, patting it onto Matt’s cheeks with exaggerated care. “You’re going to be the it girl tonight,” she teased.

“Yeah, because nothing screams ‘party animal’ like dewy skin,” he muttered, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.

You grabbed a face mask from the counter and held it up. “Ooh, should we do this next?”

Ava grinned. “Yes. Matt, you’re getting the full treatment.”

As Frank Ocean’s American Wedding started playing from Ava’s phone, you and Ava worked together to apply the mask, laughing at Matt’s exaggerated groans of protest. By the time you moved on to moisturizer, the three of you were laughing so hard your sides hurt.

“This is stupid,” Matt said, though he was grinning now.

“Shut up,” Ava said, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she wiped the excess product off her hands.

You leaned over, pretending to inspect Matt’s face. “Wow. A new man. Chris is going to be jealous.”

Matt groaned, pushing your hand away. “If he gives me any shit, I’m blaming you two.”

“Deal,” Ava said, laughing as she started cleaning up.

As Matt sat in the bathroom mirror after finishing his skincare routine, you and Ava stood nearby, wiping your hands with a towel and grinning at his reflection. His skin was glowing, and he looked genuinely refreshed, even if he pretended otherwise.

“You feel good, don’t you?” Ava teased, crossing her arms as she leaned against the sink.

Matt rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “I mean… yeah, I guess it feels kinda nice,” he admitted.

“Knew it,” you said, laughing. “You’re one serum away from becoming a skincare influencer.”

Matt groaned, standing up and shaking his head. “Alright, that’s enough. I’m going to get dressed before you two come up with more ideas to torture me.”

He headed toward Ava’s closet, where he pulled out a few pieces from his designated section. You watched him grab a black fitted t-shirt and a pair of baggy wide legged jeans.

“Your own section in Ava’s closet?” you teased, following him out of the bathroom.

“Don’t judge,” he said, pulling the shirt over his head. “I spend so much time here, she made me clear a drawer. Then it turned into a whole section.”

Ava laughed as she rummaged through her closet for her own outfit. “You’re here more than your own house. It was either this or let you wear your flannels to parties.”

“Hey, my flannels get you wet, don't lie,” Matt muttered, grabbing a pair of sneakers from the bottom of the closet.

“He’s got a point,” you chimed in, dodging a pillow Ava tossed in your direction.

Once Matt was dressed and heading to the kitchen for a drink, you and Ava turned your attention to your own outfits. Ava pulled out a black lace shirt and paired it with a sleek leather mini-skirt and boots. She looked effortlessly cool, as always, her dark makeup and gold jewelry adding the perfect touch.

You opted for a mini cheetah-print skirt and red boots, pairing it with a cropped fitted black tank top that hugged your curves. Your makeup was bold, with a red lip to match your boots, and you styled your hair into loose waves that framed your face perfectly.

“Okay, we look hot,” Ava declared, spinning in front of the mirror and fluffing her hair.

“We really do,” you agreed, checking your reflection one last time as you finished curling the ends of your hair.

Just as Ava was spritzing perfume, the doorbell rang, followed by the sound of the door opening. “I’m here,” Chris’s voice called out, his tone already laced with annoyance.

Ava groaned. “Could he ever just walk in normally?”

You rolled your eyes as you turned back to the mirror to touch up your lipstick. But when Chris walked into the room, his expression shifted immediately. His eyes landed on you, narrowing as he took in your outfit.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he snapped, his tone sharp and angry.

You turned to him, startled by the hostility in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Chris’s jaw clenched as he gestured toward your outfit. “That. You’re dressed like a—” He stopped himself, his face twisting with frustration before continuing. “You look like a goddamn hooker, Y/N.”

Your stomach dropped as the words hit you, and Ava immediately stepped forward, her face a mix of shock and anger. “Chris, what the fuck?” she snapped.

“You’re asking for it,” Chris continued, ignoring her. “Walking around in that, at some party full of drunk assholes? Do you want something to happen to you?”

Your shock turned to rage as you stepped toward him, your hands balled into fists. “Excuse me?” you said, your voice shaking with fury. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Chris didn’t back down, his eyes blazing. “You heard me. You’re dressed like a slut, Y/N. Don’t act surprised when people treat you like one.”

Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Chris stumbled back slightly, his hand going to his cheek as he glared at you, his jaw tightening.

“Fuck you, Chris,” you spat, your voice trembling with anger. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

Before he could say anything else, Matt stormed into the room, his expression dark. “Chris, that’s enough,” he said firmly, stepping between you.

“Matt, stay out of this,” Chris snapped, but Matt grabbed his arm, dragging him toward the door.

“No,” Matt said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re done. Go cool off, and don’t come back in here until you’re ready to shut the fuck up.”

Chris hesitated, his gaze flicking between you and Matt. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh, wrenching his arm out of Matt’s grip and storming out of the room.

Matt turned to you, his face softening. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your chest was still tight with anger. “Yeah,” you said quietly.

Ava came up beside you, placing a hand on your arm. “Don’t listen to him,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “You look amazing.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm in your chest. “Thanks,” you muttered, glancing toward the door where Chris had disappeared.

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll go check on him in a minute,” he said. “But seriously, don’t let him ruin your night. You’re killing it, Y/N.”

After the tense moment with Chris, you and Ava worked to shake it off, determined not to let his mood ruin the night. You both finished your makeup and touched up your hair, the energy between you lightening as Ava turned the music louder.

“Alright,” Ava said, twirling in front of the mirror. “We look hot as hell. Time for photos before we go.”

You grinned, grabbing your digital camera from your dresser. Ava struck a pose in the mirror, her black lace shirt and leather mini-skirt looking flawless under the warm lighting.

“Okay, okay, one of you now!” Ava grabbed the camera and pointed it at you.

You stood against the wall, popping one hip and adjusting your cheetah-print skirt. With a quick flash, Ava snapped a few shots.

“Alright,” she said, handing the camera back. “These are going on the fridge. Let’s go.”

When you walked outside, Matt was already leaning against his car, scrolling on his phone. He looked up as Ava approached, immediately straightening and jogging around the car to open her door.

“Your chariot awaits, my lady,” he said with a mock bow, making Ava laugh as she climbed in.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as Chris leaned against the passenger door, clearly waiting for you to get in.

“You just gonna stand there?” he muttered, his tone sharp.

You smirked, refusing to move. “Well, Matt got Ava’s door. Where’s my gentlemanly treatment?”

Chris rolled his eyes but pushed off the car and yanked the door open for you. “Get in,” he growled, stepping back.

You gave him a sugary sweet smile, climbing in slowly. He slammed the door shut a little harder than necessary, stalking around to the driver’s seat and muttering something under his breath. When he got in, the car roared to life, and he pulled out of the driveway faster than usual, his jaw tight with frustration.

As the car sped toward the party, you and Ava were already giggling, snapping pictures with your digital camera. Ava struck a few playful poses before grabbing your hands and pulling them over her chest.

“Here, cup my boobs for this one,” she said with a laugh.

“Wait, wait,” you said, adjusting your hands. “Let me make them look good.”

Ava threw her head back in laughter as you snapped a picture, both of you dissolving into fits of giggles.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, handing her the camera as she grabbed your hands again and adjusted them over her chest.

“Do me now,” she said, snapping a few provocative shots of you with your hands on your own chest, pouting at the camera dramatically.

Chris’s sharp voice cut through the laughter. “Can you two stop?”

You looked up, catching his glare through the rearview mirror. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his jaw tight.

“What’s the matter, Chris?” Ava teased, smirking. “Jealous?”

“Not even close,” he snapped, but his eyes flicked to you for a split second before returning to the road.

You leaned back, smirking to yourself. His irritation only made you push further, holding the camera up to snap another photo of Ava adjusting her top.

Matt groaned, glancing back at the two of you. “You guys are insane,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.

By the time you arrived, the tension in the car had reached its peak. Chris parked sharply, and before he could say anything, you and Ava were already out, linking arms as you headed toward the party.

The music was thumping, the bass reverberating through the house as you stepped inside. The place was packed, bodies swaying and people laughing as the party was already in full swing.

“Drinks first,” Ava said, dragging you toward the makeshift bar in the corner.

You grabbed cups of whatever punch was available, clinking them together before downing half in one go. It was sweet and strong, and you felt the warmth hit your chest immediately.

“Let’s dance!” Ava said, pulling you toward the crowded living room where people were already moving to the beat of the music.

The two of you joined the crowd, letting the music take over as you swayed and laughed together. The punch had loosened you up, and it wasn’t long before you were lost in the rhythm, the stress of the day melting away.

A while later, Matt appeared, weaving through the crowd until he reached you and Ava. “Found you!” he said, smiling as he grabbed Ava’s hand and spun her into him.

Ava laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as they danced. You couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly they moved together, their connection undeniable.

When Ava eventually left to grab another drink, Matt turned to you, holding out his hand. “C’mon, let’s keep dancing.”

You laughed, taking his hand. “Matt, you’re such a softie.”

“Shut up,” he said, grinning as he spun you playfully.

The two of you danced in a goofy, carefree way, your movements more about having fun than keeping rhythm. It felt easy, like dancing with an older brother, and you couldn’t help but laugh when Matt twirled you again, nearly sending you spinning into the crowd.

When Ava returned, she wasted no time stealing Matt back. You stepped aside, watching as they moved together, their bodies pressed close as they kissed and laughed, completely lost in each other.

The sight made you smile, but it also reminded you of the tension lingering between you and Chris. The thought made your chest tighten, and you decided to slip away, weaving through the crowd toward the quieter side of the party.

The party was buzzing, the energy intoxicating as you wandered through the house. With Ava and Matt lost in their own little world on the dance floor, you decided to entertain yourself, leaning into the freedom the night provided. It wasn’t long before the attention started coming your way—guys approaching you left and right, their flirtation dripping with confidence and curiosity.

The first was a tall, broad-shouldered guy who introduced himself as Landon. He had a dimpled smile and a cocky demeanor, leaning against the wall as he asked where you were from. You bantered back easily, his smirk widening with every clever reply you threw his way. But before the conversation could deepen, someone else swooped in—Jordan, a shaggy-haired skater who offered you a drink and made you laugh with his over-the-top party stories.

The attention felt good, and you basked in it, letting the night carry you from one flirtatious exchange to the next. There was Ryan, who complimented your boots and offered to teach you a dance move, and then Alex, who was a little too drunk but charming in his clumsy attempts to keep your attention.

But then, Cam approached.

He was tall with dark eyes and a sharp jawline, his confidence radiating as he leaned against the doorframe and locked eyes with you from across the room. His smile was slow, deliberate, and devastatingly attractive.

“Hey,” he said smoothly, stepping closer. “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been lighting up this whole room tonight.”

You laughed, a little taken aback by his boldness but not entirely opposed to it. “Oh yeah? Is that your go-to line?”

“Nope,” he replied, grinning. “You’re the first person I’ve used it on. So, what’s your name?”

You told him, and the two of you fell into easy conversation. Cam was funny, quick-witted, and knew exactly how to keep your attention. His flirtation was bold but not overbearing, and you found yourself matching his energy effortlessly.

At one point, his hand brushed against your arm, and you didn’t pull away. His touch was light, almost teasing, as he leaned in closer. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low.

“You have no idea,” you shot back, your lips curving into a sly smile.

Before you knew it, Cam’s hand was on your waist, pulling you closer as his lips found yours. The kiss was hot and electric, his hands roaming as he pressed you against the wall. You didn’t care who was watching or what anyone thought—you were lost in the moment, letting the buzz of the party and the heat of his touch take over.

But just as his hand slid down to grip your ass, he was yanked backward, nearly stumbling as someone shoved him hard.

“What the fuck?” Cam snapped, glaring at whoever had interrupted.

Chris.

His eyes were blazing, his jaw tight as he stepped between you and Cam, his body practically vibrating with anger. “Back off,” Chris growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Who the hell are you?” Cam asked, straightening up and stepping closer to Chris, his tone challenging.

Chris didn’t flinch, his gaze unwavering. “Doesn’t matter. You’re done here.”

Cam scoffed, looking between you and Chris like he couldn’t believe what was happening. “Dude, she’s into it. Why don’t you mind your own business?”

Chris didn’t say anything. Instead, he shoved Cam again, harder this time, sending him stumbling back into the crowd. The music seemed to fade as people started to notice the commotion, a circle forming around the two of them.

“Chris, stop!” you yelled, grabbing his arm, but he shook you off without even glancing your way.

“You need to leave,” Chris said to Cam, his voice cold and firm.

Cam raised his hands in mock surrender, his expression twisted with frustration and amusement. “Alright, man. Fuck you. She’s not worth the trouble.” He shot you a glare before disappearing into the crowd.

The tension hung in the air as Chris turned to you, his expression unreadable. “What the fuck was that?” you demanded, your voice shaking with anger and embarrassment.

Chris didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed your arm, his grip firm but not painful, and started dragging you toward the front door.

“Chris, let me go!” you yelled, trying to pull free. “What the hell are you doing?”

He didn’t respond, his jaw set as he continued pulling you through the house. Once outside, you tried again to wrench your arm from his grip, but he was too strong.

“Let me go!” you shouted, your voice rising. “You can’t just—”

Before you could finish, Chris bent down and slung you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You gasped, your fists pounding against his back as he carried you toward the car.

“Chris, put me down! This is insane!”

But he didn’t listen. His hand pressed firmly over your ass, covering you protectively as he moved through the crowd of lingering partygoers. When he reached the car, he opened the back door and practically threw you inside, his movements controlled but rough enough to make a point.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” you yelled, scrambling upright as he slammed the door shut behind you.

Chris didn’t respond. He climbed into the driver’s seat, locked the doors, and started the engine, his face stony and unreadable.

“Chris, where are you taking me?” you demanded, your voice rising in frustration.

Still, he said nothing. The car sped off into the night, leaving the party behind as you sat in the backseat, fuming and confused. You didn’t know what his problem was, but the intensity in his eyes and the set of his jaw made it clear he wasn’t about to explain himself anytime soon.

The silence in the car was suffocating as Chris drove, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. You glared at the back of his head, the anger boiling inside you making it impossible to stay quiet.

“Chris, what the fuck is your problem?” you demanded, leaning forward in your seat. “You can’t just manhandle me like that and drag me out of a party!”

He didn’t respond. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked on the road ahead like he was trying to block out your voice.

“Seriously?” you snapped, leaning even closer. “You’re just not going to say anything? After all of that?”

Nothing.

Your frustration hit a breaking point. Without thinking, you climbed up onto your knees and leaned into the front seat, reaching for his arm. “Chris—”

“Sit down,” he growled, his voice low and commanding.

When you didn’t listen, he shot his arm out and pushed you back into your seat, his grip firm but not rough. “I said sit down.”

You stared at him, stunned for a moment, before letting out an exasperated huff. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, crossing your arms and slumping back into your seat.

The rest of the drive passed in tense silence, your mind racing as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. When Chris finally pulled up to your apartment, he got out without a word, walking around to your side of the car.

As he opened your door, you jumped out before he could touch you. “Don’t,” you snapped, holding up a hand. “I can walk myself.”

He said nothing, just stepped back and waited as you stormed toward the stairs. You could feel his presence behind you as you climbed, his silence heavy and imposing. When you reached your apartment, you fumbled with your keys, the anger and adrenaline making your hands shake.

As soon as you stepped inside, Chris followed, closing the door behind him.

“What the hell is your problem?” you yelled, spinning around to face him.

Chris leaned against the door, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. “My problem?” he said finally, his voice sharp. “What the fuck were you doing with that guy?”

“Oh, here we go,” you snapped, throwing your hands in the air. “I was having fun, Chris. You know, something you clearly wouldn’t understand.”

“Having fun?” he repeated, stepping closer. “Letting some random asshole put his hands all over you is your idea of fun?”

“What the fuck does it matter to you?” you shot back, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You don’t get to police what I do or who I do it with.”

Chris’s eyes darkened as he stepped closer, towering over you. “It matters because you’re too fucking stupid to see when someone’s taking advantage of you.”

“Stupid?” you hissed, shoving him hard against his chest. “You’re the one who started a fucking fight like a goddamn caveman.”

Chris didn’t budge, his body solid as you shoved him again. “You’re out of control,” you said, your voice trembling with rage. “You don’t get to act like you care all of a sudden. Not after everything.”

“I don’t care,” he snapped, though his voice wavered slightly. “I just don’t want to watch you throw yourself at someone who doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“Like you care about me?” you countered, shoving him harder this time, your hands slamming against his chest. “Fuck you, Chris.”

“Enough,” he growled, grabbing your wrists before you could push him again. His grip was strong, his hands practically burning against your skin as he forced you back against the wall.

You gasped, your back hitting the cold surface as Chris loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His breath was heavy, his eyes blazing with something between anger and… something else.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “You never fucking get it.”

The words hung in the air, the tension between you crackling like electricity. For a moment, neither of you moved, the only sound in the room, your ragged breathing.

Then, as if something inside you snapped, you surged forward, your lips crashing against his. Chris didn’t hesitate, his hands releasing your wrists to grab your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss was frantic, messy, and fueled by all the anger and frustration that had been simmering between you.

Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as his lips moved against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he pressed you harder against the wall.

Chris’s teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you gasped, giving him the opening he needed to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid against yours, the heat between you growing impossibly hotter as the tension that had been building for so long finally exploded.

It was intense, and overwhelming—and you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to. All the anger, the hurt, the unresolved feelings—it was all spilling out in this moment, in the way his hands gripped your body like he couldn’t get enough, in the way your lips collided like they were meant to.

Chris’s lips moved against yours with an intensity that made your head spin. His hands were everywhere—on your waist, your back, sliding up your sides like he couldn’t decide where to touch you first. The aggression in his movements only added to the heat building between you, and you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you upright.

He pressed you harder against the wall, his body flush against yours. One hand gripped your hip tightly, while the other slid up to tangle in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp into his mouth. The sound seemed to spur him on, his kisses growing rougher, deeper, as if he was trying to devour every inch of you.

“Chris,” you murmured against his lips, though it came out more like a plea than anything else.

“What?” he growled, his voice low and rough as he broke the kiss just enough to look at you. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you pulled him back down to you, your lips crashing against his with renewed fervor. His hand slid down from your hip to your thigh, gripping it firmly as he hitched your leg up around his waist. The movement pressed him closer, and you couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped you when you felt just how hard he was against you.

Chris smirked against your lips, his voice a low rasp. “You like that, huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, but the way your nails raked down his back gave you away.

His lips moved to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your throat. He bit down gently at a particularly sensitive spot, and you arched against him, your hands threading into his hair as a soft whimper escaped you. His name slipped from your lips like a prayer, and it only seemed to fuel him further.

His hand slid up your thigh, squeezing as his lips continued their assault on your neck. When his hand skimmed under the hem of your skirt, you shivered, the roughness of his touch sending sparks through your entire body.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he muttered against your skin, his voice rough and breathless.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, though your voice wavered as his hand inched higher.

Chris pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with something primal. His lips were red and swollen, and the sight of him looking so wrecked only made you want him more.

His lips moved against yours, bruising and demanding, leaving you breathless and desperate. His fingers trailed higher under your skirt, gripping your thigh like he owned you, and your body arched into him, craving more.

But then, suddenly, he stopped.

His hands left your body entirely, and the cold air against your skin made you shiver. You let out an involuntary whine, reaching for him instinctively, but he stepped back, his jaw tight and his eyes blazing with fury.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice sharp and laced with venom. “Not getting enough attention now?”

You blinked up at him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “Chris, don’t stop,” you murmured, the words tumbling out before you could think.

He let out a dark, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, now you want me to keep going?” He stepped closer, his presence suffocating as he stared you down. “Should’ve thought about that before you started acting like a slut at the party.”

His words hit you like a slap, and your cheeks burned with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted, his voice cold and cutting. He leaned down, his face inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You were all over him, weren’t you? Letting him put his hands on you like it was nothing.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Wasn’t it?” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “Because it sure as hell looked like it.”

You reached for him again, desperate to close the distance, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the wall beside your head. His grip was firm, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you squirm.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get how fucking infuriating you are.”

Your breath hitched. “Chris, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Please what?” he growled, his grip on your wrists tightening. “What do you want from me, Y/N? You think I’m just going to forget everything you’ve done? Forget the way you’ve been acting all night?”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “I just—”

“Stop,” he snapped, cutting you off. He released your wrists abruptly, stepping back as if the distance would somehow extinguish the fire burning between you. His chest was heaving, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might snap.

You stayed pressed against the wall, your hands still hovering where he’d pinned them, your body aching from the absence of his touch.

Chris stepped back more, breaking the heated tension in the air. His sharp eyes bore into yours, his expression unreadable yet burning with intensity. The absence of his touch left your body humming with frustration, and you clenched your fists to keep yourself grounded.

He reached out, his fingers brushing under your chin before patting your cheek twice, condescendingly light. The motion made your cheeks flush with a mixture of humiliation and anger, but the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

Chris’s gaze raked over you slowly, his eyes traveling from your disheveled hair to your bare legs, still trembling slightly. “Go upstairs,” he said, his voice calm but commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Fix yourself.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. His tone was infuriating, like he was dismissing you as nothing more than a problem to be solved.

When you didn’t move immediately, his smirk deepened, and he raised an eyebrow. “Now,” he added, his voice dropping lower.

The weight of his stare pushed you into action, and you turned, storming toward the stairs. You could feel his eyes on your back, that same patronizing smirk practically burning into your skin as you climbed, your frustration boiling over.

Upstairs, your body still buzzed with the aftermath of everything that had just happened. The tension, the way he’d touched you, the way he’d looked at you—it was maddening. You couldn’t stop replaying it in your head, every detail etched into your mind like a taunt.

Frustrated and desperate, you found yourself slipping under the covers, your hands wandering as your mind stayed locked on him. The anger you felt toward him was tangled with something else, something you didn’t want to admit. The way he commanded you, the way he took control—it left you aching, needing relief he hadn’t given you.

You spent the next hour trying to satisfy yourself, your mind unable to think of anything but his touch, his voice, the way he’d looked at you like he owned you. But no matter what you did, it wasn’t enough. The tension refused to leave your body, settling into your chest like a heavy weight.

Eventually, you gave up and took off your makeup, changed your clothes, and made your way downstairs, your body still buzzing with frustration. You found Chris sitting on the couch, his posture relaxed as if nothing had happened. He looked up when he heard your footsteps, his eyes softening slightly as they met yours.

“You look better,” he said, his voice unexpectedly kind. It threw you off, the sharp contrast to his earlier aggression making you hesitate.

You crossed your arms, wary of his tone. “What are you still doing here?”

Chris stood, moving toward you slowly. His hand found your waist, his touch light but deliberate. He looked down at you, his gaze softer now, almost tender, though something darker still lingered beneath the surface.

“You don’t need all that makeup,” he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re beautiful without it. And it’s better you’re here—safe. Not out there with people who don’t care about you.”

His words felt like a trap, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. You stepped back slightly, your eyes narrowing. “Chris, stop. You can’t keep acting like this.”

“Like what?” he asked, his voice calm, though his grip on your waist tightened slightly.

“Like you get to decide where I go or who I’m with,” you said firmly. “It’s not your job to control me.”

His jaw tightened, the softness in his eyes replaced by something harder. “I’m not controlling you,” he said, though his tone carried an edge. “I’m keeping you from making stupid decisions.”

You pulled away from his touch, your frustration bubbling to the surface again. “I’m not a child, Chris. If I want to go back and get Ava and Matt, I will.”

His expression darkened at your words, and he stepped closer, towering over you. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said firmly, his voice low and dangerous.

“Chris—”

“Stay here,” he snapped, his tone brooking no argument.

You glared up at him, your hands trembling at your sides. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

His eyes locked onto yours, his jaw tightening as he leaned down, his voice dropping even lower. “You’re not leaving, Y/N. End of discussion.”.

Your frustration boiled over as you squared up to Chris, shoving against his chest as hard as you could. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger. “I’m going to get them whether you like it or not.”

Chris didn’t budge, his body solid and unmoving, his jaw tightening as he glared down at you. “No, you’re not,” he said, his voice dangerously low.

“Yes, I am!” you yelled, shoving him again.

In a split second, Chris grabbed your wrists, pulling you close until his face was mere inches from yours. His eyes blazed with something fierce and unrelenting, his voice steady but laced with a threatening edge. “No,” he growled. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to turn your beautiful ass around, sit your stubborn self back on that couch, and stay there. Do you understand me?”

The words hit you like a punch, the force behind them leaving you speechless. The way he looked at you—intense, commanding, and so sure of himself—made your knees weak despite your anger. He released your wrists, his hand brushing lightly against your cheek, and you hated how it made your chest tighten, how it made you want to obey him.

“And when I get back,” he added, his voice softening just enough to make it even more infuriating, “I better find you exactly where I left you. Don’t make me regret trusting you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the way his eyes bore into yours made the words catch in your throat. Your resolve crumbled as he stepped back, grabbing his keys off the counter. Without another word, he left, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the silence.

You stood there, your heart racing and your fists clenched at your sides. Against every instinct screaming at you to follow him, you turned back toward the couch, sinking into the cushions with a huff.

About twenty minutes later, the door swung open, and Chris stepped inside, his arm steadying Matt, who was grinning like an idiot. Ava stumbled in behind them, laughing loudly as she clung to Chris’s other arm.

“We’re back!” Matt declared, his voice loud and slurred. “And we are feeling amazing!”

“Clearly,” Chris muttered, his tone dry as he guided them into the apartment.

Ava giggled, her cheeks flushed as she looked up at Matt. “We should go upstairs,” she said. “You know, for… reasons.”

Matt grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Drunk sex! Best idea you’ve had all night.”

They started toward the stairs, stumbling slightly, but Ava paused and turned to you, her brow furrowing slightly despite her drunken state. “Wait, Y/N—what happened? You okay?”

Before you could respond, Chris stepped in, his hand lightly gripping Ava’s shoulder. “She’ll explain when you’re in a better space,” he said smoothly, his voice calm and reassuring. “Right now, you need to get to bed.”

Ava blinked up at him, clearly too drunk to argue. “Okay,” she mumbled, letting Matt pull her up the stairs. The two of them disappeared into her room, their muffled laughter followed by the sound of the door closing.

Chris turned back to you, his expression unreadable as he stepped closer. His presence filled the room, the tension from earlier creeping back in like an unwelcome guest.

“You stayed,” he said, his voice low and almost… pleased.

You glared at him, crossing your arms. “Because you told me to.”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving yours. The room felt too quiet, too charged, and you couldn’t tell if it was the aftermath of your earlier fight or the fact that Chris was still looking at you like he had all the control in the world.

And the worst part? You hated how much of it you were willing to give him.

tags: @mattsobvimyfav @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt

[women-in-ssports]

Flagrant Foul

AZZI

A lost look crept across Azzi's face, the same look she knew Paige hated when she wore it. This can’t be happening again, Azzi thought, her heart pounding as the entire arena fell silent. The only sound in the stadium was the sharp, pained groan of Paige, rolling on the floor, clutching her knee.

Azzi's body tensed, her eyes locked on Paige. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind—none of them good. What if it was serious? What if Paige couldn’t play again? The worst-case scenarios were stacking up in her head faster than she could shut them down.

Then, through the chaos, Azzi caught the faint mumble of Paige’s voice. “Flagrant foul...” Paige was still Paige, still talking, but Azzi didn’t feel any relief.

She stayed rooted to her seat, trying to calm the frantic thoughts spinning in her mind. She watched Paige struggle to her feet, wobbling slightly, then hobbling toward the tunnel leading to the locker room. The trainer would check her out, but the uncertainty hanging in the air was suffocating.

Azzi couldn’t move. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something bigger than they could control.

PAIGE

Making her way into the locker room, Paige clung to her faith, refusing to let it waver. This can’t be the worst-case scenario, she told herself. She couldn't—no, wouldn't—believe that this could be serious. The trainer spoke in a calm, measured tone, but her words didn’t bring any comfort. “We won’t know anything for sure until the MRI, Paige. I don’t want to get your hopes up just yet.”

Paige nodded, her heart sinking a little more with each word. She didn’t want to hear the uncertainty. Not right now. All she could do was nod, trusting the trainer’s advice, and slowly made her way back to the bench. Ice for her knee and ankle would have to do for now, and as much as she didn’t want to sit out, she knew she couldn’t push it.

The cameras were going to be on her as soon as she stepped back onto the floor. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but one thing was certain: she wasn’t going to let anyone see how badly she was hurting, physically or emotionally.

Plopping down on the bench next to Caroline, Paige grabbed a towel and pressed it to her face. Her mind was a whirlpool of worry, her thoughts crashing together faster than she could process. She could hear Caroline talking to her, but the words felt miles away. It was like she was on the other side of the world, disconnected from everything.

She kept the towel pressed to her face, but only for a moment. She quickly pulled it away, not wanting to break down, not in front of the team, not in front of anyone. The last thing she wanted was to lose control.

She had to stay calm. She had to keep it together. If she let go, even for a second, she knew she wouldn’t be able to reel it back in. Not out here. Not with everyone watching. Not while her future felt so uncertain.

AZZI

Azzi sat just two seats away from Paige, but the distance between them felt wider than ever. Both of them seemed to avoid looking at each other, each lost in their own worlds. Paige had completely dissociated, her mind clearly miles away from the game, trying to find somewhere—anywhere—else to focus. Azzi, on the other hand, buried herself in the game, engaging with those sitting next to her, talking strategy, offering encouragement.

She welcomed the distraction, using the noise and energy of the game to shield herself from the heavy silence between her and Paige. Anything to keep her mind from drifting back to the pain in Paige’s eyes, the quiet way she held herself.

Azzi could feel it deep in her chest—the urge to reach out, to close the space between them, but she couldn’t. Not right now. Not when everything felt so fragile. She knew Paige needed space, even if she wasn’t asking for it. The last thing Azzi wanted was for Paige to see the look on her face—the worry, the helplessness that was threatening to spill out. If Paige saw that, if she felt that weight, it might break her, and Azzi couldn’t be the reason for that.

So she kept her eyes forward, pretending to focus on the court, letting the distraction of the game drown out the growing tension in her chest. She could give Paige this moment, the space she needed, because it was what was best for her. Even if it meant staying apart.

As the game progressed, Azzi couldn’t help but inch closer to Paige with every substitution. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make her feel like she was offering some kind of silent support, even if Paige wasn’t fully aware of it yet.

Finally, when the moment felt right, Azzi nudged Paige with a playful grin. “Flagrant foul, huh?” she teased, her voice light and teasing, trying to pull Paige out of her own head, even if just for a second.

Paige’s eyes flickered over to her, and for a moment, there was a hint of a smile in them—a small one, but it was enough to reassure Azzi that she hadn’t completely withdrawn. "I had to let everyone know," Paige said softly, her voice almost sheepish, but there was a hint of that old, defiant spark in her eyes.

Azzi couldn’t help but chuckle. "Oh, I know you, Paige." There was a twinkle in her eyes, an easy warmth between them that hadn’t really gone away, even with all the silence.

Paige shifted slightly, still playing it cool but leaning into the comfort of Azzi’s presence. “Az…” she began softly, her voice trailing off as if she was trying to say something she wasn’t quite ready to.

Azzi knew what she meant before the words even fully formed. "I know, P," she said, her tone gentle but teasing. "Noodles and Company later, and Frozen."

Paige’s lips quirked up at the mention of their usual post-game ritual. "Frozen is your favorite movie," she replied, almost in a whisper, like the thought was a secret between them.

Azzi smiled, her heart lightening. “Yes, I know,” she said, giving Paige a wink.

___

After the game, Paige refused to leave until she’d greeted the fans. Azzi stayed by her side, as always, even though she knew it meant staying later than most of the team. By the time they made it to the bus, everyone else was already settled in. The ride back to the airport was quiet, most of the team asleep, the exhaustion of the game finally catching up to them.

When they got to Connecticut, Azzi opened the door to her room and turned to find Paige sitting on the edge of the bed, her face pale, her eyes distant.

It wasn’t until Azzi closed the door and faced Paige that she saw the tears. Paige’s face crumpled, and before Azzi could even step forward, the first tear fell. Then another. And another. Paige wiped at her eyes quickly, but it didn’t stop the flood.

Azzi didn’t know what to say, so she just sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her best friend. Paige leaned into her, pressing her face into Azzi’s shoulder, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. It was just them, silently holding each other, letting the tears flow.

Azzi didn’t need to say anything. She just let Paige cry.

THE NEXT DAY

After the long trip home, the team had the day off. It was already 2 p.m. when Azzi woke up, groggy but content, and noticed that Paige was still fast asleep, her blonde hair spread out in tangled waves across the bed. Azzi smiled softly at the sight before quietly reaching for her phone and placing an order for Paige’s favorites on Uber Eats.

About 30 minutes later, Azzi heard the familiar ding of her phone, signaling that the food had arrived. She slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Paige, and went to collect it. When she walked back in, she found Paige halfway awake, her eyes still red from the emotional night before.

“I got food,” Azzi said, holding up the bag with a small grin.

“I got Frozen,” Paige replied sleepily, reaching for the remote on the nightstand.

Azzi climbed back into bed beside her, handing Paige her bowl of food. Without a word, Paige took it with one hand, then wrapped her other arm around Azzi, pulling her in close. She placed a small, lingering kiss on Azzi’s temple.

“I love you, Az.”

Azzi’s heart fluttered at the words, a quiet warmth filling her chest. “I love you, P.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both of them content in the simple comfort of each other’s presence. Then, of course, Azzi started singing along to Frozen, her voice a little off-key but full of energy

Paige couldn’t help but laugh, her smile finally reaching her eyes.

For now, they didn’t need to think about anything else. They’d just be them—together. Tomorrow, they’d face whatever came next, but for today, they were safe in their own little bubble.

[fidelixcorde]

"Everything suits me," Taylor said airily. "You should see me in green."

At least Draco understood where she was coming from, and his concession just made her smirk, before she softened a little at the discussion of returning sooner. Of course Draco wasn't as eager to return to Umbridge as she was, but at least no one had told Taylor to return to Defense or else. It seemed that the professors were doing what they could to keep her from facing any consequences from dropping the class just this one time.

"I can't wait to see you either," she agreed. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

(*)

And get lucky, they did. (Take your mind out of the gutter.)

That very night, Taylor had a sudden nightmare. She'd been expanding her magic, doing what she could to try and keep an eye on things without alerting the Death Eaters or Riddle, and when she opened her eyes in her dreams to stare up at an unfamiliar ceiling, before being suddenly strangled by Devil's Snare, she knew something was wrong as soon as she abruptly woke up, clutching her throat.

After some careful prodding, she got Sirius to let slip about Boderick Bode, the Unspeakable who was found jinxed and delirious in the Department of Mysteries just a few weeks earlier. It sent such a horrible shock down her spine that the magical outburst resulted in several pieces of china exploding.

"Are you alright?" Sirius asked, alarmed.

Taking her chance, Taylor stabbed a piece of a teapot into her palm, and the brief burst of pain was nothing compared to her hand rapidly turning purple. So the china was cursed as well, no doubt Walburga's doing, but Taylor just grimaced a little. "I might need a Healer."

"Ah yeah," Sirius said, examining her wound with a sympathetic look. "I can't remember what kind of curse dear old Mum put on her precious items, but you'll definitely need to go to St Mungo's. Let me get Tonks to take you."

Once the adults were distracted, Taylor slipped into the drawing room to send a slip of paper directly to Draco's fireplace by Floo.

Meet me at St Mungo's. I had a nightmare.

It was rather surreal to see Taylor’s face, to hear her voice, while he was here in his childhood room. Malfoy Manor had always been a cold place–he really was beginning to suspect it of carrying multiple ancestral curses–but before last year, Draco had considered that to be a matter of austerity.

After Riddle took residence, its harsh reality was far more clear. But Taylor seemed to be a natural force against the monster, her presence as warming just by magical communication as it was in person.

Her question of aesthetics made Draco scoff. “While yes, the attire style is very distinctly familial, no, I would never look right in bright colors. When it comes to red hues, I may manage your jewel and berry tones, but you Gryffindors….your crimson is quite something else. It suits your dark skin and hair, certainly.”

Everything suited her. Draco could not understand how anyone in the world considered it less attractive to be darker, because Taylor was the most breathtaking creature he had ever seen. Those curls.

He winced a little at the valid counter point, wincing and laughing a little. “…okay, perhaps Severus has been indulgent with me,” Draco allowed. “Maybe I can address that with him….I mean, it might be too obvious if things changed drastically, but at the very least he doesn’t need to be a twat.”

Taylor mentioning Sirius reminded him of his cousin’s plight, sobering Draco again. “Fair….I wonder.” Draco frowned, mind racing. “I wonder if there’s any feasible way of my visiting. Though I guess he’s not without family, you do have Tonks.” Draco smiled ruefully. “I saw your face just then, but if I’m honest, it’s more bearable having that toad bitch simpering thinking I’m on her side than it is tip-toeing around him. I guess it’s trading one type of cage for another. Merlin, I can’t wait to see you again.”

[reverieblondie]

Rolan x Bard Tav who is so good with their Vicious Mockery, especially when they team up, that the pair sometimes feels like they should check just to make sure they didn't somehow cause any fire damage with their burns.

A/N: So I took this ask and combined it with another ask that wanted Tav to catch him masturbating... I hope you don't mind!

18+ underneath the cut!

You did it again that damn mouth of yours did it again…landing you two in more trouble than it's worth…

Rolan sighs before turning to give you an unenthused look. Thanks to you and your vicious mouth, the two of you are currently having to hide from the rapid fire of spells being pelted your way. The only thing stopping them from landing was the table Rolan flipped for cover, and from the sounds of the wood splintering, it might not hold for much longer…

You, on the other hand, seem completely unfazed as you turn towards Rolan with a smug smile still displayed on your face. You're so proud of yourself, and it makes Rolan glare at you even more. 

"Must you keep greeting people like that? We could have been done with this by now." Rolan criticized as you just hummed and strummed away at your lute. 

"Oh, come on, Rolan, I thought you liked that one?" 

Rolan feels a warm shiver shoot through him as you look at him completely nonchalantly, and though it's true he does find your quips quite funny, he can't help but need to criticize, "You can't keep greeting people by calling them Elminsters ballbag!"

Of course, you don't pay any mind to his words as you reach over, boopping his nose and completely undermining the danger you are both in. Rolan wants to be livid to snark and remind you of what a disaster you have caused, but like he so hates to have to admit to himself… he does have a soft spot for you despite how much he's fought it. 

It was supposed to be simple; the inn owner had been desperately looking for anyone to help him, and of course, as soon as you heard wind of some sad sacks, you were offering your help. Chase off the wizard thugs who took over his family's inn, and he will reward you with a very rare tome of some kind, which was the deal. Of course, you had no interest in a magical tome, so it led to Rolan being roped into helping you. 

This seemed to be the trend lately, Rolan noticed. You would have a request made, and instead of dragging anyone else into the mess, you would somehow convince Rolan. He's unsure how you have become so persuasive… Though if Rolan was honest with himself, he would have liked to have your company and attention. That's the real reason for him falling into these fool's errands with you. He would join you on any foolish quest as long as you wanted him. 

The archmage and the hero of the city… he thought you two could make quite the duo if you felt so inclined, but no… you're fickle and teasing, and it drives him mad. 

Like right now, you two could easily get the advantage if you approached the fight right, but you must always make everything a mess. Smiling and singing your songs while everything around you is in uproar, completely unbothered. Rolan rolls his eyes, trying not to smile at your playful strumming and humming. "Just get ready to stun the pricks." 

You fake a gasp, "Rolan? Language!" - Bards… insufferable…

With a wink and a dramatic flourish, you abruptly stand strumming your lute, and you point to your next mark, a pitiful human who looks like he wouldn't know his ass from his head. "Behold! A most noisy cuck!" Rolan just shakes his head as he hears your victim groan. Your words are ridiculous, though burning. Maybe he should end their misery with an ice knife spell… that might be the only thing to help cut the burn from your vicious mockery. 

With one down and you singing as a distraction, Rolan can quickly cast a thunderwave before any of those pricks can defend from it. 

Of course, you two made quick work of those fools with how easy they were to take down and how flimsy their spellcasting was. Rolan can't even bring himself to call those casters wizards… morons were more accurate… Mouthie shites, as you had so elegantly put it right at the end before Rolan had finished them off with a magic missile. Now, here you two are in the mits of celebration in the shabby little inn. The owner had insisted when you two took the wizards out to stay the night in one of their rooms and to join in for a party, and though Rolan was ready to camp out in the silent dark, just the two of you… you, of course, always say yes to a party. 

Rolan is trying to be on best behavior for your sake; he wants to criticize the inn, the drinks, and the screaming patrons spilling beer all over themselves, but he holds his tongue. Looking past all the other party guests who have flooded the inn for the celebration to see the mighty sharp-tongued hero. You dance and sing with the musicians as everyone flocks around you to join in with your infectious merriment. Rolan tries hard not to be bitter, but as they are drawn closer to you, he feels the irritation build… though deep down, he can't fault them for it. You're infectious… every bit of you. 

A small smile starts to curl on Rolan's lips as he watches you dance, almost reminiscent of the night at your party's camp. Every drink, like tomorrow, may not come, and you are dancing and singing by the fire—always the life of the party. 

A brave soul dressed like a ranger comes up to you, and Rolan feels himself sneering; another one, the third of the night, probably comes up to offer you a drink or maybe a dance. Rolan wants to down his drink, march over, and sweep you off your feet in a possessive kiss. Instead, he slumps in his chair… he can't do that… you would probably be mortified, and it would ruin the friendship you two have taken so long to build… Rolan won't mess that up. Even if it means he has to sit in stomach-knotting heartache as guys flirt and dance with you. Rolan wants you in his life…. He intends to be the one you come to when you have a problem… when you have one of these random missions, he's the one you ask to join you…

The ranger holds his hand to you, and Rolan watches as you light up with a smile and laugh… Ugh, Rolan moves his gaze to his wine… damn his jealousy… damn his cowardice…

"See anything interesting?" 

Rolan looks up, surprised to see you standing by his table. To his delight, there is no dashing ranger nearby. 

"It's just cheap fizz they are trying to pass off as wine." That earns him a laugh from you. Gods, you have a great laugh… 

"Careful, Ro, the village might think you're an arsehole or, worst… a prude…" Rolan just looks at you; he should joke back, flirt, and lean in and whisper if you want to get out of here…

"What did the ranger want?" -Fuck… Rolan wants to cast silence on himself, but your surprised look only makes him feel worse. But of course… because you are you, his slip of jealousy, his crack is quickly glossed over. 

"Ah, him. He was trying to smooth me over with a drink to get our tome." Rolan's shoulders slack… our… "But don't worry! I am not so easily swayed! So, as promised here!" You pull out the tome and slam it on the table with a thud and a wide grin. You're so obnoxious… damn he wants to kiss you…

Rolan decides to roll his eyes as he gathers the tome, tucking it underneath his arm. "Finally the reason I came" - Not true

As soon as the words slip from his lips, Rolan thinks he sees your smile drop; zurgan, why is he being a jackass…

You stare at him for a long moment. He tries to ignore you as you assess him. From the grimace on your face, he can tell he's worrying you. He didn't mean to; he just… can't… you're untouchable to him. He wants to be honest, but this crowd is so loud that his jealousy makes him bitter! It's always the same! And it's frustrating! Why can't you just see how much he loves you?

"Rolan?" Your voice cuts through, making him look at your worried face, your hand carefully going on his. What's wrong? Aren't you enjoying the celebration? Parties are fun!" you try… but Rolan just feels his chest tighten. He wishes it was simpler, just you two. But no, from how he's acted, you think he wants the attention and praise from all these strangers! It's hopeless. 

Rolan rolls his eyes as he stands. "You don't get it. I don't need the praise or the party. All I wanted was…" his voice dies before he can finish snapping at you. "Forget it… I'm going to my room. Enjoy the party." 

"All I wanted was to be at your side…" Rolan scoffs to himself, dragging his hand over his face, "How can I tell her that? Why can't I tell her that…" 

Rolan strips off his robe in irritation, looks in the mirror, and sighs, "I only go on these jobs with you for the times when we are together; everything else is meaningless to me." He rehearses to himself before sighing again and plunging facedown on the bed. 

"Pointless, bloody pointless…" 

Rolan rolls onto his side, staring at his reward, the oh-so-rare tome… unless that tome has a way for Tav to see how he really feels, he's not sure it's all that rare or even worth it, but as the archmage, he might as well review it to see if it should be added to the collection. Rolan grabs the book and quickly flips through… boring… 

Another long sigh leaves his chest as he tosses the tome towards the bag; he lays on his back staring off; he should be thinking about the journey home; he should be thinking about the 100's of things he put on the back burner to be here… he thinks of your face and how you looked so confused at his arse behavior… 

How your brows knit in confusion and that slight pout in your lips. Rolan groans at the thought, that pout… that bloody fucking pout. It tortures him not to pitch it between his thumb and forefinger and lecture you on teasing him with your lips. From the look of them, he knows they are soft; how would they feel on his? 

Would they be cold compared to his burning skin? Would he be able to feel their softness while it's wrapped around his cock? 

Rolan's eyes widen as soon as that last thought leaves his mind. He sits up, placing his hand on his head… That image in his mind, you on your knees and your perfect lips wrapped around his length. 

He feels himself throb; an ache between his legs is begging for relief, and before he reaches down, he stops himself. He thinks about how you saved his family, how you have built a friendship, how you two trust each other… He wants more… but if he thinks of you this way, is that crossing a line… 

But before he can think about more reasons why he shouldn't… his hand is sliding under the hem of his trousers. As soon as he holds onto his cock he hisses in relief; he softly wraps his pebbling tip letting his precum be his lube. With eyes screwed shut, he thinks of you in every way, your hair falling over your shoulders, your hands sliding down his chest and teasing his nipples. Rolan uses one of his hands to toy with himself, making him whine as his hand moves faster. 

He knows you would smile at his noises; your taunting words would tease him as he comes undone beneath you. 

"Coming undo for me so soon? Cute…”    

The thought of you teasing him as you slowly bounce on his cock, clenching down everything time you push him all the way in, is driving him to move faster. His chest breathes faster, and sweat starts to sheen his skin as he keeps pumping his cock, feeling his ridges beginning to swell and throb. The thought of you bouncing and using him to get your pleasure has him slipping and staring to beg… starting to call your name… 

At first, it slips out as just a whisper… but as his imagination starts to run more rampant, it starts to feel more real… he lets go… 

Whines of your name married with short, soft gasps echo off the wall, along with the sound of his skin clapping together. 

Gods to have you on him, to kiss him, to bite him, to feel you clench down on his cock like a vice as he bullies into your soft insides. Just say the word, and it's yours… just say his name, and he will come… 

Rolan… 

Roaln….

Roaln!

"Rolan?" 

He freezes, his hand still wrapped on his straining length… Then he dares to look at his door, and that's when he sees you.  Your eyes are wide, and he sees you speechless for the first time ever. Rolan is quickly fumbling with the bedding and apologizing as you're not exactly sure what you're supposed to be doing. It's not until Rolan falls to the floor with a groan that you let out any noise. 

You rush to Rolan's side, but before you can touch him, he's quickly fumbling up, keeping a blanket over his front. Rolan holds his hand out towards you, his tail flicking erratically and his face blazing crimson. 

“Don’t come closer… please…I just was-”

"You're fine, Rolan, I'm sorry I should have knocked; I just… I was worried and wanted to check on you." 

Rolan wants to slam his head through the wall; what the hell's this, a nightmare… maybe you didn't notice…

"I guess goodnight again…" Rolan watches you begin to leave, but before he can leap to the door and lock it, he watches you pause, "Also, Rolan? If you decide you want the real thing, my room is across the hall…" 

Rolan's jaw drops as you give him a playful wink before walking out, leaving his door open only a sliver. Rolan stands there considering your words…, but before he can mess this up by overthinking anything, he drops his blanket and rushes to your room.