#HE GOES ONTO PRAISE HER??? REPEATEDLY?????

[monards]

i am literally so for rhinedottir being evil and mean and the most insane villain in this game. but oh my god does half of this god forsaken fandom not comprehend that one of the biggest themes and motifs in genshin the concept of human as a title is convoluted and confusing and that EVERY person has insane amounts of nuance necessary to understand and no villain is gonna be WHOLLY evil without other, redemptive traits (whether previous or current) because that’s how people WORK. SHE CAN AND IS GONNA BE MORE THAN EVIL. AND MEAN. AND BIG BAD VILLAIN.

[pearlessance]

Three's A Crowd

Tommy Miller x f!reader x Joel Miller

Summary: Tommy's new girlfriend is awfully sweet. When Joel finds out she's got a big appetite that only he can fill, he decides to satisfy the craving. Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, threesome, praise, seduction, age gap(20yrs), size difference, oral sex galore, unprotected sex, photos taken during intercourse, mention of sending nudes, throat bulge, usual smut antics NOTE: i'm not sure if this is actually any good considering it was writen in just a matter of days because i was inspired by the new promo, gabriel luna the man that you are 😵‍💫😵‍💫 !! MASTERLIST [crossposted to AO3]

 Joel Miller knows his brother like the back of his hand. 

Which is why it’s not surprising when Tommy lets him in on the details about his secret new girlfriend. Secret—because you’re the daughter of their most consistent client. 

At first, Joel tells him how stupid it is to risk the company like that. It’s irresponsible to put on the line their biggest cash cow just to fuck around with the only daughter of the man that funds Miller Contracting through the winter. And then there’s the fact that you don't exactly fit Tommy’s type.

A rich girl with an even richer daddy compared to all those wild girls from Tommy’s previous female fixations? It doesn’t line up. It makes no sense in Joel’s head. 

Even as his brother tries to explain, “I didn’t go after her. Not at first. She came onto me.”

Joel’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the other propped on the open window of his truck as they drive home from a particularly exhausting day. He furrows his brows and asks, “Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious? You sure she actually likes you and isn’t just tryin’ to get her daddy’s attention?”

Tommy snorts. “Even if she was, I wouldn't care. You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?”

“Jesus Christ—”

“An’ I mean love, Joel. Not like. Love.” There are stars in his eyes and he knows it’s a serious matter but Joel can’t help the laugh that escapes him.

He thinks it must be high praise coming from his brother who goes home with a different girl every other weekend. “That good, huh?”

“Better than good.” 

And he knows Tommy’s got a one-track mind, so there’s really no use fighting it. So he just says, “Be careful. Don’t go gettin’ caught 'cause the business will pay the price.”

Tommy agrees and Joel lets it go. Doesn’t think about it again, even when Tommy cancels their plans to go out that weekend in favor of your company.

Well, not until he’s standing in your kitchen going over blueprints with your father, that is. 

Joel tries not to glance out of the floor-length windows in the kitchen to the backyard. He tries not to look at the movement in the pool that repeatedly catches his eye. And he tries, really fucking hard, not to allow his attention to linger on the way that white bikini rests so snugly against your chest, or the way your wet hair cascades down your back and sticks to your smooth skin, or the way his cock twitches in his jeans when the impressive swell your ass shakes as you pull yourself up and out of the pool.

He understands his brother a little better when he sees you, Joel thinks. Understands why he’s willing to risk such a high-profit opportunity for the chance to see you underneath him. 

Your father leaves the kitchen to find an old set of blueprints to compare to the new ones, and Joel begins to panic as he realizes this is the moment you decide you’re done swimming. 

When you open the door to the kitchen the hinges creak. Joel takes note of it. 

Water drips onto the white tile floor, the same quick rhythm as the thumping of his heart against his sternum. You cross the kitchen and open the fridge door without even looking at him. 

But Joel certainly looks at you. Can’t help but to, really. You’re like some decadent display as you break the seal of an icy bottle of water and begin to take long, slow drinks from it. Your lips are plush and swollen and Tommy’s words reverberate in the back of Joel’s head. 

You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?

“Thirsty?”

He nearly chokes. Joel knows you’re likely just being hospitable. Kind, even. But he feels like he shouldn’t be speaking to you, not when you’re close to naked and dripping wet. And if not because of your father upstairs, then certainly because of his brother’s affinity for you. So, despite the way his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth, he says, “No, thanks.”

Joel turns his eyes back to his blueprints, folding the corner once, twice, trying to focus on anything but the weight of your stare.

If you notice his unease you ignore it as you slide up to the counter beside him and peer down at the layout of your father’s newest home renovation. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your skin, can smell the chlorine in your hair. “Hm,” you say. “This is for the guest room?”

“Bedroom D,” he corrects.

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You turn away from the blueprints, spine resting against the marble countertop in favor of studying him instead. “You’re Joel, right? Tommy’s older brother?”

There’s no sense in lying, Joel thinks. Though he does consider it for a moment. “Uh…yeah,” he says. And then he clears his throat and nods, repeating a little more firmly, “Yeah.”

Your stare is so hot against his skin, eyes unabashedly roaming down the column of his neck. He shivers as your attention lingers on the small sliver of his chest that’s revealed thanks to his decision this morning to leave one of the buttons on his flannel unsecured. You’re standing so close to him now that a drop of chlorinated water falls from the ends of your hair and onto his arm.

Joel feels the cool liquid slide down his too warm-skin, melting as if it were ice, heating to the temperature of his blood that sings in his veins beneath your scrutinization.

He watches your tongue slide over your pretty bottom lip and his breath catches in his lungs. “Hm,” you say again, the sound a little fonder this time. “I see where he gets his good looks from.”

It’s been a long time since someone flirted with him so openly. Even longer since someone your age even took a second glance at him. And even though he knows, by the rule of his own morality, that you belong to his little brother…Joel can’t deny the giddy feeling it elicits in his chest. Can’t deny that he likes your attention, either.

“Found them,” your father suddenly says, bounding down the stairs with folded blueprints in his hand. 

Joel clears his throat and you take a small step away from him, but otherwise seem unphased by the intrusion. He tries to ignore the lingering buzzing beneath his skin, tries to shake off what remains of the electrified energy you’d created.

You greet your dad with a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’re going out tonight. Your father asks with who, and you glance past him, staring only at Joel as you say simply, “Just a friend.”

And he knows you’ll likely be at his little brother’s apartment within the hour. Thinks about preparing himself for yet another of Tommy’s cancellations of guy’s night but this time there’s no frustration on Joel’s part. 

Because he doesn’t blame his brother at all. If anything, he understands a little better now. Understands why getting drunk with Joel at a bar is a far less tempting activity than spreading those pretty thighs of yours. Understands why he’d rather stay home than go out, especially if you’re there in his bedroom on your knees for him. 

His assumption is confirmed later that night when he gets a text message.

Tommy: Have to cancel again. Sorry, something came up.

Joel knows exactly what ‘came up’ and decides to put on an old western movie to distract himself instead.

But when he lays in bed that night, the image of you in your bikini surfaces in his brain and makes a home there. He tries for an hour to get himself to relax enough to shut it out, to just go to sleep.

Eventually, though, he realizes there’s no fucking point in trying. And even though you’re in his brother’s bed and your father’s blueprints are sitting on the kitchen table downstairs, Joel Miller takes his cock in his hand and has the best orgasm of his life. He thinks about your smooth skin and supple curves, thinks about the way that single droplet of water felt against his skin, thinks about your pink tongue and the way you looked at him with such insatiable hunger.

It’s a secret Joel decides he’ll take to his grave.

He tries not to think of you after that. Tries to keep his distance from you, from your house in general. Joel’s not a man who enjoys technology but opts for emailing your father instead of meeting with him to avoid another post-pool incident.

Tommy finally makes it to guy’s night two weeks later but he’s glued to his fucking cell phone. Joel tries to make conversation, tells him about upcoming projects and opportunities for contracts, and mentions that this summer has been their most profitable yet. But Tommy only nods every so often. Giving Joel a stupid, uninterested, “Yeah, for sure,” or “That’s great, Joel,” or “I don’t know, maybe.”

There’s no salt to his words, no meaning other than oblivious agreement. And it starts to anger Joel because Tommy’s been distracted by girls before but never like this. Never so much so that he can’t sit and have half a conversation with his brother. Eventually, he lets out an annoyed sigh and says, “If you’ve got somewhere better to be you can just fuckin’ go, Tommy. Jesus Christ.”

The irritation seems to finally get his attention. Tommy locks his cell phone and says, “She’s sending me pictures, distractin’ me, I’m sorry,” but there’s a stupid ass grin on his face and Joel can feel the insincerity radiating off his brother.

Joel rolls his eyes and waves down the bartender for the check. 

“No, no, okay,” Tommy insists, setting his phone face down on the bar top. He shoos the bartender away and says, “Okay, seriously, you’re right. I’m sorry.” It’s a little more genuine this time, and so Joel decides to meet his brother halfway.

“You really like her? S’that what this is?”

That smile returns to Tommy’s face, eyes glossing over in a mystifying way. He must, because Joel’s never seen him like this before. “We’re not even together,” he says.

Joel’s brows furrow. “What are you talking about? You spend every weekend with her, you might as well be.”

“Believe me, Joel, I’ve tried, man. She’s…I don’t know how to explain it. She doesn’t want anything serious. Doesn’t wanna be exclusive or nothin’ but isn’t fuckin’ around with anyone but me. I just…” he shakes his head and his eyes widen and Joel can see the awe in them. 

“So she’s acting like you,” Joel supplies.

It makes Tommy laugh. But the more he explains, the more Joel starts to believe it. “She’s so sweet but that girl is insatiable. Just wants to fuck and have a good time and that’s it. Doesn’t care about much else.”

“I’m not sayin’ you shouldn’t have fun, Tommy, but don’t let her consume your whole life. Get some space every once in a while,” Joel says. But he understands the infatuation, understands exactly how enticing your company would be. 

He leans in close, one hand wrapped around his whiskey glass and the other tapping the back of his phone. “Those pictures…she’s taking pictures in the shower, Joel. For me. An’ you wanna know what she just told me the other day?”

Joel knows what’s coming next. Knows Tommy’s about to clue him in on something Joel has no business knowing, but he can’t fight off his curiosity. “What?”

“Said her biggest fantasy is a threesome with two guys. Told me, and I quote, that she wants to get fucked while she’s got my dick in her mouth.” He makes a sound of disbelief but there’s this grin on his face that lets Joel know Tommy’s biggest fantasy is to be with a filthy girl like you.

Joel just shakes his head.

But the image his brother paints lingers in his brain for days.

In fact, he’s still thinking about it during his next meeting with your father. Thinking about the fact that you’re up in your room, fantasizing about getting fucked by two guys at once when your dad suddenly says, “I’ll be out of town for a couple of weeks, I hope you don’t mind I gave my little girl your phone number. Just in case anything goes wrong. It won’t, but I hate being so far away while she’s here alone. I’m sure you understand, being a father and all.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to respond, unsure how to explain how terrible an idea that is, so he says nothing. Just nods stiffly and begins discussing the renovations for the ensuite of bedroom C. 

Less than a week later, Joel gets a phone call from an unknown number, and his gut sinks because he knows it’s you. He debates on ignoring the call but then begins to worry that something’s actually wrong and puts himself in your father’s position. Thinks he’d be furious, had it been Sarah, if she’d called someone for help and they’d ignored her. 

So, he presses his cell phone to his ear and says, “Hello?”

“Joel? Hi, sorry, I know it’s kinda late. Do you think you could come over really quick? I need your help.”

“Help? With what?” It doesn’t really matter, he thinks. Because he’s already lacing up his boots, phone held to his ear with his shoulder.

“I locked myself out,” you explain. “My dad’s out of town for work and I didn’t grab my key before he left. You have a spare, don’t you? For the renovations and stuff?”

Joel can’t help but wonder where you’ve been for the last few days. Someplace you wouldn’t have needed to come home, it seems. “Uh, yeah, I do,” he says. “I’ll be there in a minute. Hang tight.”

He finds you standing on your front porch with a backpack slung over your shoulder, your phone charger in your hand, and a look of relief on your face. “Thank you so much,” you immediately say. “I swear I never forget my key but I was distracted this time.”

Joel unlocks the front door for you and lets you inside. He lingers on the threshold, saying, “No, it’s fine. No worries at all.”

“Come inside,” you insist, and he can feel the bad decision from a fucking mile away.

“Really, it’s fine. I’ll just—”

“Please,” you interrupt. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Let me make you something to eat before you go. It’s the least I could do.”

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. But he does.

Joel nods, unable to resist you and how pretty the word please sounds in your mouth. He follows you into the kitchen, lingering at the island counter as you drop your bag onto the floor next to the stairs and immediately plug your cell phone into the extra outlet he’d placed into the backsplash per your father’s request during last winter’s renovation. You look over your shoulder at him as you open the refrigerator and ask, “You like grilled cheese?”

“Uh, yeah. I do.” He sits in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the way you move as you prepare the bread and heat up a cast iron pan. Eventually, he finds the courage to ask, “You…uh…were you at Tommy’s?”

He watches as your cheeks redden the smallest bit. But there’s no shame in your voice as you answer simply, “Yes, I was.”

“Figured you’d tire each other out eventually,” he teases.

You laugh softly, and the buttered bread sizzles as you place it into the pan. As you lay the slices of cheese on top of it you explain, “Wasn’t like that. I’m home for the weekend so Tommy can talk to you, actually.”

It surprises him to hear it, in truth. “Me? What for?”

You flush an even deeper crimson. “Uhm…I think it’s better that you hear it from him,” you say.

Joel’s mind wanders to a million places as you dig out a spatula and flip the grilled cheese. But then a terrifying thought strikes him and Joel suddenly asks, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“Ew, no,” you say with a laugh. “Believe me, Joel, I like creampies just as much as the next girl but I’m not irresponsible about it.”

This time, it’s his face that warms. Joel swallows hard and sits on the barstool at the island, trying not to think about your inadvertent admission, trying not to imagine it, to imagine how fucking good it would feel to—

“Here,” you say, placing a glass plate in front of him with a perfectly crispy grilled cheese cut diagonally. He’s thankful for the distraction, thankful to convince himself the watering of his mouth is from the food in front of him and not the thought of how you would taste on his tongue.

“Thanks,” he says simply, trying to massage some of the tension from his shoulders. It had been a long day on the job site and he’ll admit to himself only that a grilled cheese and the sight of a pretty girl certainly feels like a treat.

You seem to notice his discomfort and ask, “You okay?”

He nods and takes a bite of his sandwich. It’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had and he tries to hold back his moan to no avail. When he looks over at you, you’re wearing a satisfied grin that only widens when he says around another mouthful, “This is incredible.”

As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, you step up behind him and place your hands on his shoulders. Joel opens his mouth to stop you, to tell you this is wrong, inappropriate—but then you kneed your fingers into the tender muscle, and his eyes flutter closed. 

All argument leaves him as quickly as it appeared, and all he can manage to say is, “Jesus Christ.”

Your quiet giggle is the cutest thing he’s ever heard. And Joel knows he should be thinking of his brother right now, knows he should be thinking of your father, thinking about the fact that you’re just a young woman, twenty years separating the two of you…but all he can focus on is the way your hands feel on him.

They’re warm and soft but clinical in their pursuit, thumbs pressing hard into the muscle that brackets his spine. Your delicate fingers feel like heaven, bringing relief he never realized just how badly he needed.

You slowly massage down his back, pushing against the knots, working them free. When you get to his lower back, he groans when you slip your hands beneath his navy t-shirt. You’re touching him with no barrier and it steals the breath from his lungs.

Never in his life has he wanted to be touched by someone so badly. Never in his life has he enjoyed the feel of another person’s skin against his so much. Your thumbs dig into the sore muscles, working the tension out.

You lean in so close that he can feel the heat of your breath against the shell of his ear as you say, “Will you take your shirt off?”

He’s thankful you’re standing behind him, however. Because it means you can’t see the way his cock stiffens in his jeans.

The words are tempting and seductive and wrong, he knows. He looks back at you and the heat in your eyes takes him off guard. The angle has his mouth so close to yours you’re sharing the same breath.

It’s then he knows just how badly you want him. As much as he wants you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say. While you speak, your fingertips trace soft patterns into the skin of his lower back.

Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he does it anyway.

You step away from him only long enough for Joel to grip his t-shirt at the back of his collar and pull it over his head, laying it on the marble countertop.

And then you go back to your ministrations as if nothing changed; massaging the tension from his muscles, starting low and working your way back up to his shoulders this time. But it is different, Joel knows. Because he can feel the heat of your skin against his and his heart rate picks up, a different kind of tension filling him instead.

But it feels so fucking good that he doesn’t ever want you to stop.

So, he eats what remains of his grilled cheese. Lets you work the tightness from his bones, trying not to hiss in pain when you touch a particularly tender spot in the center of his back. You lighten the pressure there and begin building back up to it slowly, bringing him to heights of euphoria he’d never known existed.

When he wipes the crumbs from his hands and pushes his now empty plate away, Joel knows he should stop you. But he doesn’t, because he can no longer find a reason good enough to say the words. He lets you dote on him in a way he doesn’t deserve and soaks it up while it lasts.

And when you press a sweet, chaste kiss to the top of his spine, Joel feels the energy shift but doesn’t say anything then, either.

Because he likes the way your lips feel against his skin. Even more so than your soft hands.

You do it again, a little higher this time. You kiss the back of his neck and he shivers. He realizes you can see the goosebumps that break out across his skin, because he can feel the smile on your lips as you press another wet, open-mouthed kiss to the junction of his shoulder.

Joel’s cock has never been this hard, he thinks. He’s never wanted someone so badly, has never been so incapable of making the right decision as he is at this very moment.

His breath comes fast and labored as you press yourself to him. You’re not wearing a bra beneath your oversized t-shirt, and he can feel your pebbled nipples against his back. Your hands move forward, circling his abdomen, sliding up and over his chest. He knows he should stop you now, knows this is the beginning of something he can never come back from.

But the two of you are all alone in this big empty house, and how can he deny you? He doesn’t have the strength. Not then you slide pretty, delicate fingers over his soft stomach, through the dark curls that disappear into his jeans.

Your hand is slow in its pursuit but still adamant as you palm the bulge in his jeans. Even through the thick denim, the feel of your hands on him makes him shake. He cock throbs with each gentle stroke, each small movement. “You can tell me to stop,” you tell him. “Is this okay?”

He can’t bring himself to say anything, but the moan that escapes him is answer enough. He places his hands on the edge of the counter and straightens his spine, getting a full view as you undo the button of his jeans and lower the metal zipper at an agonizingly slow pace.

And then you’re slipping a hand inside his jeans, below the elastic band of his boxers, and all thoughts eddy out of his head. He can think of nothing, nothing as you begin to stroke him. Your hands are small, barely fitting around his cock, but you make do with what you have and it’s more than enough.

You pull him out of his jeans completely, and it’s a sight to behold, seeing his cock in your pretty hands. He tries to catch his breath as you pull one of your hands away for a single moment. And when it returns, your fingers are sticky with webs of spit.

This time, when you wrap your hand around his cock, you’re able to stoke him a little easier, the added lubrication allowing for freer movement. You move slowly at first, hands grazing from base to tip.

He watches with reverence as you familiarize yourself with him. When a bead of precum forms at the tip of his cock, you use your thumb to add it to the sticky wetness already in your hands. Joel can feel the smile on your face as you continue to press desperate kisses to his spine, and he knows he won’t last long like this.

Watching you stroke him with both of your small hands, watching you take care of him like this…it’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

So he closes his eyes. Lets himself sink into the moment with you instead, listens to your pretty whimpers as you press your tits against him. He wants to reach around and slide his hand between your thighs but knows better, knows that this is already bad enough.

You tighten your hands around his cock, squeezing a little harder, and he feels his end begin to build at the base of his spine. “Fuck.”

“Does it feel good?”

He tries to breathe slowly, tries to draw it out. But you pick up your pace, stroking him a little faster, and Joel can’t stop the groan that escapes him.

“You make me so wet, Joel,” you whisper against his skin. “I think about you and touch myself sometimes, thinking about how fucking big you are, how good it would feel to have you touch me…how good you’d feel inside of me.”

Your filthy words bring him to the brink. Joel fights it, doesn’t want to finish so fast he embarrasses himself. He wants to see the look on your face, wants to fuck you right here on this kitchen counter that he built.

Joel clenches his fists instead. Stays stone still because he knows if he moves an inch he’ll be giving into these desires. Knows a single shift in position would have him pulling your shorts down your thighs and licking your pussy until he makes you cry out for God. 

But it’s not his place.

It’s not his fucking place, and you’re not his fucking girl.

So he doesn’t move.

You do, though.

Joel tries to catch his breath as you pull away from him, the absence of your touch leaving him cold and wanting. But then you’re nudging your way in front of him, in the small space between his knees and the island, and then you’re lowering yourself to the marble floor.

You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?

Slowly, you run your hands over his jean-clad thighs. You look up at him through your lashes and he feels a little like he’s being worshipped.

And when you lean forward, pretty, soft tongue licking the underside of his cock, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself. His resolve withers, and he threads his fingers through your hair but is careful not to rush you.

He lets you take your time, lets you swirl your tongue over the head, lets you taste every inch of him to your heart’s content. And when you finally take him into your mouth, cheeks hallowed out, creating a tight seal around him, Joel’s head falls back in bliss.

You savor it, relish in it, swallowing him down inch by inch. He hits the back of your throat and still you keep going, choking on him, nose pressed against the hair below his navel. With each pass, you begin to bob your head, tongue smoothing over the sensitive tip. You set an insatiable rhythm, drool sliding down your chin.

It doesn’t take him long. His hands tighten in the hair at the nape of your neck and he breaths out, “Fuck, fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna-”

Your watery eyes meet his and the adoration in them sends him over the edge. Joel finishes at the back of your mouth, your fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of his thighs almost painfully, but you take everything he gives you and swallow it down.

It’s the sexiest thing he’s seen in all his life.

When he finishes, Joel strokes your hair affectionately and you smile up at him with his cock still in your mouth. It makes him laugh, and he realizes how soft and sweet this moment feels. How easy it is. How he never wants it to end.

Slowly, you sit back and begin to stand to your feet. Your lips are swollen and red and glossy, even when you wipe the spit off your chin with the back of your hand.

You cross the kitchen, grab your phone, and make your way to the staircase. “Thanks again, Joel. Can you lock up on your way out?”

He doesn’t understand how you can feel so casually about this. Doesn’t understand how you’re likely texting his brother as if Joel’s cock wasn’t just in your mouth, as if the taste of his release doesn’t linger on your tongue. 

The guilt doesn’t set in until he’s in bed that night. He can’t sleep, because he knows he has to say something to Tommy but knows, too, he’ll likely pay the price of a right hook in reparation. 

At three in the morning he sends a text to his brother; Come over in the morning. Need to talk. Important. 

Joel doesn’t sleep. He lays in bed and thinks of you, as he so often does these days. Thinks about how uncomfortable it’s going to be to tell his little brother that he indulged himself in the pretty little thing he’s been spending all of his time with. He decides he’s just going to say it outright, tell him the truth without beating around the bush, and immediately apologize for it afterward.

Because he is sorry, Joel thinks. Not sorry that he did it, but sorry that it’s hurt people in the process.

How can he come to regret the most gratifying sexual experience of his life? It’s a comfort, to hear some of Tommy’s words echo in his brain. 

We’re not even together.

She doesn’t want anything serious.

It’s like she just wants to fuck and have a good time and that’s it.

Joel hopes his brother feels a similar way. Tommy’s never once indicated he’s ever wanted to settle down with a woman, but…something sits in his gut and twists up his insides. Because as much as he wants to deny it, Joel knows this…knows you are different. What Tommy feels for you is different.

He’s drinking whiskey by ten in the morning for no reason other than to calm his nerves.

And Joel’s thankful for the liquid courage when Tommy finally pulls into the driveway at noon. He comes barrelling through Joel’s front door with a scowl on his face, and for a second Joel wonders if his brother already knows and is here thinking Joel had every intention of keeping this secret of yours.

But when he speaks, Tommy doesn’t seem angry. Just…concerned. “What’s up, man? Pretty ominous text to wake up to. Where’s Sarah? She alright?”

Joel shakes his head and raises a hand between them. “Sarah’s fine, she’s alright,” he says quickly. “Staying with a friend this weekend. Sorry, I guess I should have mentioned it wasn’t a life or death situation.” 

For Tommy, anyway.

With a slow nod, Tommy’s shoulders slump and he drops himself onto the couch. “Alright, then. That’s good. I was worried, came haulin’ ass over here.” It’s then he notices the tumbler in Joel’s hand, half filled with amber-colored liquid. “You good, Joel?”

He takes a seat next to his brother and tries to recite the speech in his head. But nothing comes out. Joel opens and closes his mouth once, twice, and then finishes off the whiskey in his glass.

Tommy’s patient, for what it’s worth. He lets Joel adjust in his seat three different times, saying nothing while he tries to find the courage he’s been building for the last twelve hours.

“I…I, uhm…I have to tell you something an’ I…” Joel shakes his head and squeezes his jaw. “Alright, look. I…did something.”

A quiet, curt sort of laugh leaves Tommy. “I know what happened last night, Joel. She already told me.”

It surprises him. Not that you told him, Joel can’t fault you for that considering he’s presently trying to do the same thing. What’s surprising is that Tommy seems relaxed about the whole situation. Relieved, even.

A million different questions surface on the tip of his tongue, but only one comes out. “What?”

“It’s alright, man,” Tommy says, laying a comforting hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“You’re not…mad? I don’t understand. I let her—”

Tommy’s mouth stretches into one of the widest smiles Joel’s ever seen on his brother’s face. “It was good, huh?”

Joel doesn’t know if saying yes is a good idea. Doesn’t know if a simple three-letter word is sufficient enough for the things you made him feel with that pretty, pink tongue of yours. 

But it seems his thoughts are written plainly on his face. “Fuck yeah, it was,” Tommy says with a laugh. “She called me right after you left her house last night. Told me everything. She makes a mean grilled cheese too, doesn’t she?”

Try as he might, Joel can’t seem to wrap his head around what’s happening. Can’t seem to process his brother’s ease, his indifference. He tries to put himself in Tommy’s place but knows that if it was his bed you slept in for the last week, Joel would be furious to learn you’d wound up on your knees for someone else.

But if that someone was Tommy? His own brother?

Maybe that’s why it’s different. Because Joel would never do something to hurt his brother intentionally. And he knows, too, that Tommy would never do it to him, either.

He trusts his brother with everything in him. There’s not another soul on the planet who knows him like Tommy does. So, surely, he knows that what you and Joel did wasn’t born of malicious intent, right?

“She’s a sweet little thing,” Tommy says quietly, as if they’re sharing a secret. “But that mouth on her is somethin’ else. She’s a talker, through and through.” There’s pride on his face as he speaks. “Said she felt real bad, runnin’ out on you like that, but she’d gotten so wet from just goin’ down on you that I could hear it through the fuckin’ phone, Joel.”

Though he tries not to, Joel begins to wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed, if you hadn’t disappeared so fast to take care of the ache that had settled between your thighs.

It would have been only fair, right? You helped him. He would have helped you.

“She wanted me to talk to you about something, anyway,” Tommy says.

He’d nearly forgotten that you’d mentioned the same thing last night in all the chaos. It piques his interest, because what on Earth could you need Tommy to ask him?

But his answer comes quickly when his brother says carefully, “You remember a couple of weeks ago when I told you what her biggest fantasy is?”

A threesome.

Joel’s standing from the couch and shaking his head before his brother gets another word out. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind, Tommy?”

“Joel, just listen—”

“Listen to what, man? You got any idea what you’re askin’ me right now?”

There’s a smirk on his face as he stares at Joel from the couch, looking just as comfortable as if they were having a normal conversation about what they should eat for dinner. “I’m askin’ you to fuck my girlfriend,” he says.

Somehow, the word girlfriend surprises Joel more than the rest. It’s the very first time he’s ever called anyone his girlfriend. “I thought you weren’t together.”

Tommy shrugs. “Call it what you will. Does it really matter?”

“Yeah, Tommy, it does matter. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have feelings for this girl. Tell me this doesn’t mean anythin’ to you, that doing somethin’ like this wouldn’t fuck it all up in a minute.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t lie to you, brother. ‘Course she means somethin’ to me. That’s why I wanna give her everything she wants. And she wants you too, Joel. Is that so bad?”

Joel sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots.

For a second, a single second, he considers it. Thinks about how any price is worth it for a single night with you, to hear the sound of your moans, to feel your warm breath against his neck again. He’d bet you sound real pretty, all filled up with him.

“Don’t trust anyone else to take care of her the way I do,” Tommy says. “No one but you.”

It’s too much. It’s way too much to ask of him.

“You’re insane, Tommy,” he says, grabbing his whiskey glass from the coffee table and escaping to the kitchen to refill it. He wishes he had something a little stronger.

He’s not surprised when his brother follows him to the kitchen. Tommy leans against the archway and says, “You can say no.”

“Good, 'cause I’m sayin’ no.”

Tommy laughs, but Joel thinks there’s no joke to be found. “Just wanted you to know the offer’s there and she’d jump at the opportunity. Y’know, if you change your mind, that is. Ask her about it, if you wanna.”

“I won’t.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, not tryin’ to push it or anything. You know how to get ahold of me.”

And then his brother retreats, leaving Joel with nothing but his whiskey and his thoughts.

Thoughts that run rampant in his brain. Filthy images of you beneath him, back arched in pleasure, pretty mouth hung open just wide enough for Tommy to slip inside.

How terrible would it be, really? Tommy might have impulsive tendencies, but he seems so sure of this. And if there’s not an ounce of jealousy in his brother, so much so that he offers you to Joel like some sort of prize…maybe there won’t be the repercussions Joel’s afraid of.

Maybe it’ll be as Tommy says. Maybe it would just be a good, safe way to give you what you want, to indulge your wildest desires. 

And it would certainly be an indulgence for him. Just feeling your hands on him had brought Joel bliss like he’d never known. He can’t imagine how much higher he’d feel if he could taste you, if he could finish deep inside of you and not at the back of your throat.

It takes twenty minutes of pacing in his kitchen and another ten of shaking the nerves from his hands before he picks up the phone and calls you.

“Hey, Joel. I was just thinking about you.”

“S’that right?”

“Mmhm. Did…did Tommy talk to you yet? He told me he was going to this morning.” 

“Yeah, sweetheart. He did.”

A strange sort of silence stretches on. He can hear your hesitance and realizes you’re just as nervous as he is. “And? What did you…what did you say?”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell you he declined the offer. Not when it was a no mostly out of fear and unease. “You wanna tell me how this is gonna work?”

You snort and he can almost see the playful smirk on your face. “I think you know how it works, Joel.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he says, but can’t fight off the smile that climbs onto his face and makes a home there. “Brat.”

“Hm, I think I prefer the term princess.”

Joel laughs but thinks the name is real fitting. He can see why Tommy likes you so much—can understand why he wants to give you everything it is that you desire. Everything about you is so playful and carefree and innocent. You’re just so sweet. A tooth-rotting confectionary. 

“I don’t know how it’ll work,” you finally say. “I’ve never done something like this before, but I know it’s what I want.”

Your conviction is reassuring. Both you and Tommy seem certain that this is the path you want to take, no unease to be found within either of you. But it’s not the physical that worries him. It’s…everything else. “An’ what happens if it becomes something more? Sex is just sex until it isn’t.”

He can hear the smile in your words as you ask, “You worried about catching feelings for me, Joel Miller?”

“I’m bein’ serious,” he insists. “Tommy feels somethin’ for you. I know it and I think you probably do, too. I don’t want to do this and ruin what the two of you have been workin’ on.”

“You won’t ruin anything,” you insist. “And if…if things do get…complicated, then we’ll just take it day by day. No use in worrying about something that might not happen, right?”

It’s such a naive way of thinking. Joel wishes he wouldn’t have said no so quickly. Wishes, too, that you were a little different. Maybe if you weren’t so sweet, so tempting, he wouldn’t be so worried about ‘catching feelings,’ as you’d put it.

Your voice is quieter as you say, “For what it’s worth, Joel…I like you, too.”

By the end of the phone call, you manage to convince him to consider it. To genuinely give the idea a shot, to weigh all the pros and cons. You promise not to be disappointed with either decision and though he knows the whole thing has been your idea, Joel believes you.

Several days later, Joel stops by with the intent to fix the creaky hinges on the door to the pool. But the moment he steps into the kitchen, Joel forgets all about the task at hand because he can hear your moans echoing through the house.

He follows them like a moth to a flame.

The door to your father’s bedroom is wide open. And in the center of the king-sized bed, covered with gray satin sheets, is you and Tommy.

Tommy’s turned away from the door, but you’re looking right at it. Looking right at Joel, as you bounce in his brother’s lap. When your eyes connect with him, your pace only picks up, your moans only grow louder.

Joel watches, frozen in time, as you chase your release. Tommy swirls his tongue around your pebbled nipple, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake. You thread your fingers through his hair and moan his name but you stare right at Joel.

He can’t breathe. Has suddenly forgotten the process of inhalation. He’s seen you in your bikini but never like this, never completely bare. You’re beautiful, Joel thinks. Beautiful in a godly way; a woman the poets write for, a woman the sculptors display in cathedrals.

You reach a hand between your bodies, circling your clit and arching your back.

The thought doesn’t even cross Joel’s mind that he should leave, that he should give the two of you some privacy. It feels right that he’s here. 

You grind yourself on Tommy’s cock and give Joel the sweetest, most innocent smile as you say, “It’s so big, you’re so deep. God, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Tommy grabs at the soft swell of your ass, lifting you just to slam you back down onto his lap. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over this dick, princess?”

I prefer the term princess.

No need to wonder why, Joel thinks.

“Mmhm, yes, yes, right there.”

“Can feel her gettin’ all messy,” Tommy says. “If I knew you’d get this wet ridin’ me in your daddy’s bed I would’ve said yes weeks ago, pretty girl.”

Joel knows the reason you’re all worked up has nothing to do with the location and everything to do with his eyes on you, but he stays silent. Stays still.

Even as he watches you fall apart on his brother's cock and soak the satin sheets beneath him. Even as Tommy does the thing that Joel’s been dreaming about every night for days, filling you up with his release. 

He doesn’t linger. He doesn’t fix the creaky hinges, either.

Joel barely makes it back to his truck before he’s reaching into his jeans to stroke his cock, right there in the driveway in broad fucking daylight.

It only takes a few quick tugs before he covers his hand in sticky ropes of cum. He tries to catch his breath, wiping the mess you’ve made of him onto his jeans and driving home ten over the limit. Before he makes it inside to shower and change, Joel sends a text message to both you and Tommy that reads; Okay. I’m in. My place. Friday night at ten.

He tries not to think about it too much. Tries to go on about his work week like normal, going through the motions of making dinner each night and taking Sarah to school every morning with Tommy in the passenger seat.

They don’t talk about it, though Joel can sometimes feel his brother staring at him a little too long as if there’s something he wants to say. But he doesn’t. They don’t bring it up until after Joel drops Sarah off at her friend’s house for another weekend-long slumber party. 

Tommy says, “I’m gonna take her out for dinner. Do you want to come with us? Could help break the ice a little. Loosen you up.”

He agrees, and instead of going home, they pick you up from your house. You’re wearing a pleated blue skirt that’s a little too short, but Joel thinks you look like something divine. Tommy helps you up into the truck, and everything starts to feel real the moment you’re sitting between them. Joel behind the wheel, Tommy on the passenger side.

You look so small in the center of the cab, surrounded by two brothers who possess nothing but longing for you. Like pretty prey caught in the clutches of two predators.

Joel has to readjust himself in his seat when you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. Sweet. “Missed you,” you say. “You look good. You both do.”

He doesn’t comment on the fact that they’re both still in their work attire; dirty blue jeans, sun-faded t-shirts, and muddy boots. He’s surprised to hear your appreciation, considering how put together you always seem to be.

But maybe that’s the appeal for you. The blue-collar archetype. Your daddy probably expects you to marry the son of one of his friends, just another rich boy.

If he could see you now…

Tommy slides his hand to the inside of your thigh and squeezes. “You hungry, princess? Let’s get you somethin’ to eat.”

As much as he hates to admit when his brother’s right, dinner works wonders for Joel’s nerves. The three of you talk the entire time; you tell Joel about your friends and the subjects you’re studying in that fancy college you got into on a full ride. It’s not the one your father wanted you to attend, but it’s the one you wanted.

Even though he knows Tommy has heard it all before, he lets you and Joel have this moment. He sits beside you and smiles at you as you speak, eyes glued to the side of your face and full of adoration. Joel realizes then that he thinks his brother might be in love with you.

He gets it. Thinks it must have been a real easy fall.

Tommy slots himself in the conversation naturally. The two of you clue Joel in on some of your inside jokes and it doesn’t feel weird at all. He doesn’t feel left out like he’d worried he might be, and he doesn’t feel jealous when you steal bites from Tommy’s plate because you steal things from Joel’s, too.

It’s easy. Nothing feels forced, no conversation out of place.

Halfway through the meal, you switch sides of the booth and sit next to Joel instead. You lay your head on his shoulder and he holds your hand beneath the table and it feels right. Tommy smiles at the two of you and carries on with his story as if the dynamic you’ve created has existed for years and not just hours.

When it’s time to go home, Joel finds that his nerves have completely vanished.

Tommy offers to drive. And he’s thankful for it because it allows him to focus on just you.

You take Joel’s hand and lay it in your lap, palm open. He shivers as you trace the lines in his hand. You ask him, “How are you feeling?”

And the answer comes to him easily. “Good,” he says. “Better.”

“Told you,” Tommy says, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. “She’s a real good girl, Joel. Always does as she’s told.”

Even though the sun is setting below the horizon, he can see the crimson that stains your cheeks and it brings a smile to his face. “S’that right?” He takes your chin gently in his hand and forces you to look up at him. “You a real good listener, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, she is,” Tommy answers wistfully. “Why don’t you g’’head and give Joel some sugar, princess.”

You lean into Joel’s side, pressing a kiss to his jaw. It feels good just being close to you, holding you in his hands, but when you touch him, it’s something else entirely. An uncontrollable desire, an unfamiliar sort of decadence.

Joel cradles your face in his big hand, thumb stroking your cheekbone, and gently presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, a tender curiosity. He kisses you again, a little more heated this time, and when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip you grant him access as if it’s second nature. 

His tongue explores yours, tangling together, invading your sweet mouth. Joel thinks you taste a little like honey and a whole lot like fortuity. If you had asked him ten years ago if he’d ever imagined he’d be in this spot, tasting the inside of his brother’s girlfriend’s mouth, Joel would have said it was a delusional thought. 

Yet here he was, cock stiffening in his jeans from something as simple as a kiss. Like he’s some teenage boy, experiencing a woman for the first time.

But it is his first time experiencing you, and Joel knows that’s what makes all the difference. 

The kiss turns sloppy and desperate. And when your panting breaths turn to moans, Joel realizes Tommy’s hand on your thigh has disappeared beneath your skirt.

It surprises him, the magnitude of the moment. Joel would have thought he’d feel jealous somehow, envious that his brother’s touching you and he’s not. But there’s nothing but satisfaction to be found. Joel likes to see the dark look in your eye, likes to see your breath hitch in your throat.

He takes your legs and spreads them wide, draping your thigh over his, giving his brother more room to touch you.

“What do you think, brother? Think we should give her what she needs before we even get home?”

Your face is so close to his that your breath fans across his spit-covered lips as you say so beautifully, “Please, Joel.”

A smirk finds its way to his mouth. “You look so fuckin’ pretty when you beg, sweetheart,” he says. “S’that what you want? Hm?”

You nod frantically, eyes pleading.

“Hold your skirt up, baby,” Tommy instructs. And you do as he says without question, fabric bunching around your hips. 

Joel can’t deny the pleasure he finds in discovering you’re completely bare beneath. Even from his spot in the passenger seat, he can see how glossy your pussy is with arousal, desperate to be touched by both of them. “Oh…look at that, Tommy. She wants it bad, doesn’t she?”

“Always does, brother. Needy little thing. S’why she needs the two of us,” Tommy says. His fingers trail lazily over your slit, a teasing caress. He presses his index finger against your clit and makes a satisfied hum, a sound that comes from somewhere deep in his chest. “Can feel your heartbeat right here, princess. Tell Joel what you want.”

“I want him to touch me,” you say, a little bit breathless. “Want him to make me cum while you kiss me. You taste so good, Joel. You make me so wet.”

The words don’t sound filthy or obscene in your voice, despite how vulgar they are. Joel squeezes your jaw in his hand and delights in the way you grin when he says, “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Wanna see the look on your face when he fills you up with his fingers.”

You’re so pretty, Joel thinks. But it’s nothing compared to the way your pupils dilate as his brother stretches you open. Your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to crush his mouth to yours, to taste the sweetness you possess. 

He drinks up your moans as Tommy sets a steady pace between your thighs. Joel grabs the back of your knee with a rough hand and spreads your legs further apart. He can hear how wet you are, can feel the goosebumps as they form down the column of your throat.

Joel pulls away from your spellbinding kiss only to catch his breath. “How’s it feel, baby? That feel good, hm? Tommy takin’ good care of you?”

“Yes, yes—mmm—fuck. His hands are so big, feel so fucking good,” you whimper. One hand is clutching Joel’s shirt, holding on for dear life, and you move the other to rest on his cock. You gently knead it over his jeans, and he wonders if you can feel just how hard he is for you.

It doesn’t take long until his brother has you trembling. Your thighs shake and a crease forms between your brows as you chase after the relief you seek.

He kisses you again, tongue brushing against yours, and when you breathe Joel’s name into his mouth he knows what you need before you even ask. 

Slowly, experimentally, Joel’s hand on your knee travels upwards. Over the soft skin of your thigh, taking it all in, savoring you—and then his fingers are circling your clit while Tommy’s are shoved deep inside of you, curved to hit the perfect spot, and you come undone within seconds. 

“Oh, God, Tommy, I—”

“I know, baby, it’s okay. Go ahead,” he says, giving you full permission. 

The words are the last thing you need to reach the full height of euphoria. You’re reduced to a trembling mess in his hands and Joel thinks this is so much better than his dreams. Better than standing in the doorway, watching you, wishing he could hold you.

“That’s it,” Joel praises. “There you go. Bein’ so good for us, sweetheart.” Wetness coats his fingers as he continues to circle your clit until your breath stutters in your chest. He kisses you hard as Tommy’s rhythm begins to slow, eventually stilling completely. 

You wince as they both pull their hands away from you at the same time, a synchronized movement. 

Tommy pulls the truck into Joel’s driveway and chuckles as he looks at you, skirt still hiked up around your hips, limbs boneless. He strokes the side of your face and kisses your hair. “You’re alright, princess. We’re just gettin’ started.”

Joel climbs out of the truck and adjusts your skirt, holding you with an arm around your waist to ensure your balance until both feet are on the ground. Tommy comes to your side and slides his hand into yours, handing Joel the keys.

While he works to unlock the front door, Joel can’t help but smile at the sound of your sweet giggles. He looks over his shoulder to see his brother kissing your neck and grabbing your ass, and the two of you look so infatuated with one another that it’s intoxicating. A magnetism he can’t help but be drawn to, a warmth he wants to embrace.

The minute you walk in the door you’ve got your hands on Joel again. You slip them beneath his t-shirt and he’s thrilled to give you what you want. He pulls it off over his head, discarding it on the back of the couch, and lets out a pleased sigh as you begin peppering wet kisses over his chest, down his sternum, fingers grabbing needily at his skin. 

Tommy stands behind you as you lower yourself to your knees between them. He runs his hands through your hair lovingly and says, “Show him what you do best, baby.”

You smile up at him and it takes Joel’s breath away. He’s never seen someone so pleased to please him, never felt this wanted in all his life. The metal of his belt buckle clinks against the button of his jeans as you undo them, pulling down his zipper in a way that’s familiar to you now.

When you pull his cock out, you wrap one hand around it and guide the tip to your mouth. He’s so hard already that he aches, but the feel of your soft tongue on him grants him ease. You lick every inch of him, an indulgent sort of torture. And then you’re swallowing him down, creating a tight seal with your plush lips.

Your mouth feels like heaven, Joel thinks.

“Look at the way she’s got her legs pressed together,” Tommy murmurs, thumb caressing your temple gently. “Gets so turned on with a dick in her mouth she just doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

“We’re gonna take care of that for you,” Joel says, cupping your jaw in his hand. He shifts it a little lower and can feel the outline of his cock through your throat as you swallow him down, gasping for air you never once ask for. “Gonna take care of everythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

Pleasure coils around his spine, a vise-like grip that threatens to end this night well before he’s ready for it.

Tommy grabs a handful of your hair and draws your head back. Strands of spit still connect you to him and drool runs down your chin. It’s the most pornographic thing he’s ever seen. Tommy laughs and says, “I know, brother. S’almost too good.”

Joel knows it should be a strange thing to hear, but it feels innate. He helps you back to your feet and pulls your shirt over your head while Tommy unzips the back of your skirt and slides it down your legs.

You turn and wrap your arms around Tommy’s neck and he lifts you up in his arms like it’s second nature. Joel supposes it is—the two of you have had a whole lot more practice together than he has. Tommy starts towards the stairs, heading towards Joel’s bedroom, but you let out a whine and reach out for him.

He can’t deny how warm it makes him feel, seeing you all wrapped up in his brother but still reaching for his hand. The smile you give him the moment he touches you makes his heart constrict in his chest. It’s such a soft, intimate moment, and Joel can think of nothing but your conversation on the phone last week.

You worried about catching feelings for me, Joel Miller?

He wasn’t a week ago. But now…? Now, he’s not so sure.

Tommy lays you down in the center of Joel’s bed and the sight of it pushes away his anxiety. You’re so beautiful with your hair splayed out behind you, an angelic sort of halo. The thought crosses his mind that you might have always been meant to exist in his bed.

It feels like second nature to crawl over you, to let his hands roam over your chest, your ribs, your hips. Joel follows each caress with a kiss, mouth following the echo of his hands. He sucks a bruise into your hip, ensuring this moment is real with physical, tangible evidence.

When he gets to the crease of your thigh, Joel sits up and spreads your legs wide. “Look at that,” he whispers. Tommy’s pulling off his worn t-shirt and working on his jeans but pauses long enough to appreciate the sight of your pussy, glossy with arousal and what remains of your first release. “She’s so fuckin’ pretty, ain’t she?”

“Yeah, she is,” Tommy agrees. “Taste’s real pretty, too.” He leans over and presses his mouth to yours, a messy, needy sort of kiss. You whimper as Tommy asks, “What d’you think, princess? Think Joel should get a taste? Hm?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. “I want it so bad, Tommy, please.”

“Want it, huh?” Joel slots himself between your thighs, his mouth an inch from where that ache resides. “Maybe we should make her wait a little longer, Tommy. Make her wait ‘til she needs it.”

“No, no, please,” you cry. You buck your hips, trying to find reprieve, but Joel’s hands on your waist hold firm. “I do, I do, I need it, Joel, please, please.”

He looks to his brother to make the decision. Tommy’s got a wicked grin on his face as he watches you writhe on Joel’s sheets. “Think you’ve been real good today. But don’t go forgettin’ your manners, princess. When Joel licks that pretty pussy of yours, you better say thank you.”

The moment he slides his tongue through your slit, your spine bends, arching off the mattress. Your shoulders slump and your breath comes fast. “Oh my god,” you moan. “Thank you, Joel, fuck.”

He tries to give you the same tentative treatment you’ve given him; tracing every inch of you with the flat of his tongue, memorizing the sweet taste, sucking your clit into his mouth. He can feel it pulse with need, and Joel understands the fever.

Your thighs clamp down around his head but Joel doesn’t mind. He just presses his mouth against you harder and flicks his tongue a little faster.

“Tommy,” you whimper. Joel looks up to see your chest heave with each shaking breath. You reach out for his brother with trembling fingers.

“I’m comin', baby,” Tommy says softly. “Don’t you worry.” The mattress dips beneath his weight as he kneels beside you. He cradles your head in his hand, supporting your neck while he eases his cock into your mouth. 

It’s the hottest thing Joel Miller has ever seen in his fucking life.

You grind yourself against his face and he supplies the friction you seek. Arousal coats his facial hair, enveloping his senses in nothing but you. Your moans, your taste, your scent—you, you you. He thinks he’ll never want it any other way but this.

Tommy guides your mouth with a hand wrapped in the tangled strands of your hair. He fucks your face and you whimper around his cock like there’s nothing else in the world that could ever compare. He smiles down at you and says, “You’re gonna make her cum, Joel. Can you feel it? Get’s real sloppy when she’s right there, right on the edge.”

Joel groans against you and focuses his mouth on your clit, giving him just enough room to slip a finger inside you to massage that sweet spot.

You stretch your arms above you and fist your hands in the sheets. When you reach the summit, Joel can feel it on his tongue, can feel your pussy tighten around his finger, can feel your thighs shake around his head.

Tommy pulls your head back, giving you a moment to breathe as another orgasm surges through you. Your moans echo in Joel’s room, the prettiest-sounding symphony he’s ever heard. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Tommy praises, just as breathless as you. “Bein’ such a good girl for us, baby.”

Joel doesn’t relent, doesn’t stop licking your clit until you’re giggling and twisting in his hands at the overstimulation. You sound so satisfied, so happy. It pleases him to see the elation on your face. When he finally pulls away, Joel snakes his arms beneath you and pulls you up to your knees. “So good,” Joel agrees. “But she’s gonna give us another one, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

All you can do is nod and it makes both brothers laugh.

“She’s usually got so much to say,” Tommy teases. “Think we’ve got her fucked dumb, brother.”

“That’s alright,” Joel whispers. “We’ll do all the thinkin’ for her, hm? Take such good care of this sweet little pussy. Turn around, baby. On your hands and knees.”

You do as he says blissfully, ass arched beautifully on display for him. Tommy maneuvers himself in front of you and you take him in your mouth on instinct. Second nature, habitual.

Joel positions himself behind you and slides the head of his cock through your slit. “This what you want, sweet girl? This what you dream of?”

Leaning back, you stroke Tommy with your hand and look up at him as you answer Joel’s question. “Yes,” you say. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw you. Knew I needed you, Joel. Knew I needed you both.”

“Three’s a crowd, princess,” Tommy says. “But I think I like this one.”

Joel’s inclined to agree. He pushes into you slowly, sighing in contentment at the gratifying tightness. You’re so wet, so warm. “Goddamn, baby,” he groans, gripping the supple flesh of your ass to keep himself tethered to earth, to keep himself grounded. 

Tommy holds your face in his hands, smoothing his cock over your lips. “Oh, she likes it, Joel,” he says. “Should see her face. Can I take a picture, baby? So Joel can see how happy you look with his dick all up in your guts? Hm?”

The words are crude but Joel can feel you tighten around him as Tommy speaks. “Mmhm,” is all you can say, sticking your tongue out to lick the underside of Tommy’s cock.

He reaches over to the nightstand where his cell phone sits. Tommy angles his phone just right, and the shutter echoes in the room as he takes his photos.

Joel pushes into you real slow. And when he’s buried to the hilt you let out a gasp and hold onto Tommy’s thigh for support, balance wavering. “It feels so fucking good,” you say.

Tommy takes a couple more photos, tries a couple of different angles. But Joel thinks no image will ever beat the one in front of him.

He watches your pussy stretch to make room for him, watches you soak his cock, desperate for it. Tilting his hips forward, Joel sets a steady pace, easily finding a rhythm that has you moaning out his name. 

Satisfied with his work, Tommy sets his phone back on the nightstand in favor of the filthy exhibit before him. He guides his cock back to your mouth, groaning at the feel of your tongue. 

Joel thrusts into you and feels that coil begin to form around the base of his spine again.

You’re moaning around Tommy’s cock and he’s smiling like there’s no place else he’d rather be. Joel understands that, too—because he thinks you’re the most perfect girl that could have ever stumbled into their lives. “S’this what you needed, princess? Needed us both, hm? Dirty little girl.”

“Our girl,” Joel muses, captivated by the way you squeeze him as he says it. He fits so perfectly inside you, like you were made for him, made for this. “Stretchin’ her out so easy, brother. Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for it.”

Tommy’s head falls back and his hips stutter. “Just like that, princess,” he praises gently. “Yeah, shit—gonna swallow it all like a good little girl, ain’t you?” 

You make a sound of approval at the back of your throat. Joel can see you look up at his brother, cock-drunk and starry-eyed, and he feels his chest pull tight with a strange sense of pride.

Joel slows his pace just a little, long enough for Tommy to take what he needs from you, for you to focus on just him. And then he’s breathing hard as he holds your head still, nose pressed against his navel. His shoulders draw tight and then gradually relax as he spills his release at the back of your throat. 

When Tommy pulls out of you, his cock is covered in spit and cum but you do as he says, dutifully swallowing it all up like the perfect girl you are. And you even clean any remaining mess with your tongue, licking it up with sweet reverence.

He’s close—so close it aches, but he wants you to give him another before this is other. Wants to make it worth your while, wants to know how it feels to make you cum while he’s buried deep inside you. 

You arch your back and press your cheek against the mattress, looking back at Joel from over your shoulder.

Tommy moves to your side, smoothing your hair out of your face with one hand, and then he slips the other beneath you and circles your clit with skilled, deft fingers.

The response is instantaneous. Joel can feel your pussy pulse around him, sees the strain on your face as you fight the pleasure. You say his brother's name like a prayer shrouded in ecstasy.

But Tommy just shakes his head. “Nah, princess. Ain’t up to me this time. You gotta ask Joel permission.”

He doesn’t understand at first, this almost silent communication between the two of you. But then you say, “Joel, please. Please please, I need to cum so bad, it feels too good.”

You sound so fucking pretty, begging for him like that. “Been so good…I think you’ve earned it,” he says gently. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”

Tommy continues to circle your clit as you clench around Joel’s cock, uttering quiet praises in your ear. 

You tighten around him and Joel’s right there, right there—and then you say, “Cum with me, Joel, please. Cum with me, I wanna feel it.”

And it sends him over the edge. His name in your mouth, begging him to fill you up. He buries himself so deep inside you that there’s no telling where he ends and you begin, and it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. 

You shudder beneath him and Joel leans forward, pressing his forehead to your spine. He thrusts into you until the last drop, giving you all of it, giving you everything he has to offer.

As you come down, Tommy pulls his hand from beneath you and combs his fingers through your hair. He’s got that stupid grin on his face, but Joel’s not sure he’s ever seen his brother this happy before. 

The three of you just lay there for a moment, saying nothing, unmoving, basking in the afterglow. Joel’s not quite sure how he’s meant to navigate this, not sure what he’s supposed to say or how he’s supposed to feel about the fact that the best sex he’s ever had was with his brother’s little girlfriend. 

But he does know how to take care of a woman. So, he does. Joel eases himself out of you and disappears for only long enough to find a washcloth, wet it with cool water from the bathroom sink, and grab an icy bottle of water from the fridge. 

When he returns to his bedroom, Tommy holds you in his arms while you speak to him in a hushed tone. It worries him a little, truthfully.

So when Joel sits on the side of his bed to clean the light sheen of sweat off your forehead and the mess between your legs, he asks, “Everythin’ okay?”

“Everything’s good. So, so good,” you answer easily, giving him one of those honeyed smiles.

Tommy takes the bottle of water from Joel’s hand and breaks the seal. “Drink,” he says, passing it to you. And you do, listening so obediently.

But the moment your hands are free again you say, “Joel? Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he says. And he means it. Whatever it is you need, whatever it is you want, Joel wants to give to you. He’s come to understand his brother in this, too.

“Do you think you’d want to…I don’t know. Maybe we could do it again?”

He laughs. Genuinely, truly laughs, because Tommy’s been right this whole time. You’re insatiable.

But you quickly amend your words. Saying, “I mean, not…not now. But maybe…maybe I could stay? For the weekend?”

Joel finds the thought of you leaving at the end of the night an unbearable one. And he knows he’ll likely feel the same once Sunday evening rolls around, and he’s not quite sure what that means for him or you or Tommy…but maybe it’s not something he has to worry about today. 

He kisses your forehead and says, “‘Course you can, sweetheart.”

And then you’re reaching for him again, urging him beneath the sheets. You lay your head on Joel’s chest and drape your leg over Tommy’s hip, and you look so at ease, so peaceful that his heart constricts at the sight. You’re so good, so sweet, and Joel thinks he’d do anything to keep you happy.

Later, as your soft snores and shallow breaths fill the silence, Tommy playfully kicks Joel in the shin and says, “Ain’t no use tryin’ to talk yourself off the ledge, brother. Easier to just enjoy the freefall. Take it day by day.”

Joel thinks his brother might be right. Thinks that this might get complicated and messy and dangerous…but for now, for today…he’ll savor the sugary sweetness while it lasts.

[semicolonsspace]

Warnings: p n v, Dacyphillia, multiple orgasms, overestimation, teasing, praising, Threesome, switch!Newt(?), Dom!Thomas, sub!reader, creampie, anal, choking, talk of being caught, Degradation.

|18+| Minors DNI

Imagine it's late at night, the graders should be asleep. But you, Newt, and Thomas are out in the trees away from the others.

You're cuddling into Newt, your hands fisted into his shirt while he slowly fucks into you. Thomas is next to Newt talking about what he did today in the maze. Newt angles his hip back slightly causing you to squeal at the new angle.

"Don't be rude, love; Tommy is telling us how his day went," You whimper and nod, biting his shoulder and staring at Thomas. Thomas continues talking, going into full description to tease you and to make the story longer.

You reach for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards you. He choked on his words and then kissed your tear-covered face.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"S'too much."

Thomas smiles at you, pulling your hair back from your wet face. "Y'can take it, baby," Thomas affirms. You whimper and your eyes roll back from the overwhelming pleasure.

Newt's thrust was slow, his hands gripping your hips to meet him halfway. Thomas kisses you, his warm soft lips pressing against your quivering ones. Thomas' hand rubs your back, comforting you to take what Newt was giving you. You had already had multiple orgasms during the long talk of how the boy's days went. Your body was spent, running on adrenaline from the amount of pleasure it was receiving.

"You're perfect," Thomas growls kissing your wet nose. Your eyes flutter, the pressure already forming.

"She's gripping me, Tommy," Newt whines. Your mouth falls open, the grip on Newt's shirt becoming tighter.

Newt's thrust becomes quicker and sloppy, becoming unpredictable. Thomas' hands hold Newt's guiding his movement and her body to fuck onto his cock harder. Your head falls back, your arms pushing you back making your naked torso arch. Thomas' face was above yours now, he stared into your half-closed eyes, his eyes filled with a predatory gaze. Your pussy clenches around Newt, his cock twitching inside you. He cums quickly, his body becoming stiff. His cum oozes out of you, a white sticky circle around your hole.

In a swift movement, you were pulled off of Newt, now on top of Thomas. His thrusts were brutal, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Tommy, please," you beg.

Thomas doesn't give you mercy and continues thrusting hard into you. His tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, the pressure from it making your mind numb.

"Come on, honey. I've been running all day, help me out will ya?" he slurs out.

Newt comes from behind you and guides your head to look up at him. His hand wraps around your throat and gently squeezes the sides. He leans down kissing your lips before littering kisses on your face.

"Love, you gotta help him, he's tired."

You nod quickly, too deep in a mindset to argue. Your hips start bouncing on Thomas, making his cock hitting your cervix like Newt's was earlier. Thomas' cock was slightly shorter, making up for its girth and stretching you out. Newt fingers the entrance of your ass, your eyes going wide.

"You think you can take both of us?" Newt whispers softly.

You nod eagerly, "Please, just want you both."

Thomas chuckles at your neediness; His arms wrap around your torso and stop thrusting into you. Newt's tip goes in, the beginning being uncomfortable. He waits for you to get used to the feeling. Thomas becomes impatient and starts thrusting into you, while Newt goes slowly so you can become used to it.

"Just fuck her," Thomas growls to Newt. He obeys and starts fucking your behind. He grips your ass, spreading it and massaging the plush flesh.

You feel them both, their dicks only being separated by a thin wall. They feel each other as well, the hardness making them turned on when more. You clench around them and they both groan if approval.

"Again," Newt commands. You obey and clench around them longer this time, trying your best to keep doing so.

Thomas reaches down with a hand and starts toying with your clit. Newt's hold on your throat tightens slightly at the sight of the movement. You cum at that, beginning to scream as Newt's hand that was on your ass and covers your mouth.

"Don't wanna get caught, do ya love?" You shake your head, your eyes wide and your eyes furrowed with pleasure from the overstimulation. The pressure returns and Thomas groans.

"You like that, you filthy slut? You wanna get caught?" his thrust gets harder, Newt's thrust being gentle and makes your mind hazy from being gentle and hard at the same time. "You want Alby or Gally to see you like this? Being used like a little whore?" His fingers on your clit, his filthy words, and the pleasure from both men push you over again. You've lost count of how many had, not even caring to count for being consumed by the filthy pleasure.

They both cum simultaneously. Their thrust sloppy and cum dripping from your abused holes. Their breaths are heavy, and Thomas fucks himself through his pleasure while Newt gets pleasure from the feeling of Thomas rubbing against his cock through the thin wall.

[justmeinadaze]

Aftercare: Safeword (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Daddy Steve/Sir Eddie & Sub reader, SMUT, As the title suggests the safe word is used here, the smut they are engaging in isn't too rough she just feels uncomfortable mostly with how they are grabbing her and seem "not all there", choking, mentions of overstimulation without praise, brief dp, later on more romantic softer smut, dirty talk, etc, FLUFF, they love each other <3, aftercare after use of the safe word, ANGST, mentions of past toxic relationships, both boys talk about things that are stressing them out.

More than anything this is them teaching her more about aftercare and how there is nothing wrong with needing to use a safe word. That no matter what they still love her. That goes for you beautiful souls to! Its ok to use your word if you have one and if your partner gets mad at you for it, like Eleven says, dump their ass!

Word Count: 3779

Something was off. They both seemed out of sorts when they got home from work but you didn’t think anything of it at the time. You just did what you could to make them feel better. Eddie came home first and bypassed you entirely to fall onto his bed. You crawled in beside him and laid your head on his chest as he remained still, not even playing with your hair like he normally did. 

Steve soon followed, finding you both and curling up behind you as he threw his arm around your waist; his breathing ragged almost like he was angry. After a while, without saying a word, they tugged off your clothes, and began to use you. That was the best way to describe their desperate touches and rough kisses. 

Their vacant eyes rarely met yours as they made you cum repeatedly. You cried at the overstimulation and where they would usually coo and comfort you, this time they were silent.

They were both inside of you thrusting aggressively. You were already extremely sore and knew you would be for the next few days to come. 

You thought you could make it to the end and allow them to finish but they made you promise if ever you felt uncomfortable to use the safe word. Eddie’s fingers were gripping your bicep a bit too tightly and Steve’s hand around your throat was starting to cut off your air supply. 

You tried to say “red” but it wasn’t coming out loud enough to be heard. Going to plan B, you squeezed your eyes shut as you lifted your palm above you and smacked Eddie’s headboard three times as hard as you could. 

They stopped moving, freezing in place, and you tapped at the hand around your neck signaling the concern. 

“Shit. Fucking…Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He released his grip and gradually pulled out of you before running out of the room to the kitchen. 

Eddie pulled out as well, brushing your hair out of your face as you coughed trying to collect air.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Everything’s ok.”

Steve quickly came back, sinking to his knees by the mattress as he handed you a glass of water. 

“Here, honey, drink this. Good girl. What else do you need, baby?”

It was then that you started to bawl and their hearts broke as you hugged your arms around your body. Eddie kept whispering that you were safe as he gently petted your head while Steve covered you with a throw blanket and rubbed your back. 

“I’m sorry.”, you whimper as you wipe your eyes with your fist. “I tried. I really did but you both were hurting me.”

“Hey, hey, hey. No reason to be sorry. We’re so proud of you for using the safe word and getting our attention. I know you said it used to be hard for you before, pretty girl.” Steve grinned at you comfortingly as he continued to try and calm you down. 

“I-I-I ruined everything.”

“No, princess. You didn’t ruin anything. You feeling safe and comfortable is more important to us than anything else.”

You softly smile at them as you slide to the edge and try to get up but your legs betray you as you fall back down. 

“Baby, we got you. Where are you trying to go?”

“Bath. Hurts.”

“Ok, I’m going to carry you. Is that alright?”

You nod as Steve lifts you into his arms and Eddie runs ahead to get your bath started in your bathroom since your tub is bigger (and cleaner) than his. The boy continues to hold you in his arms until everything is in place before gently lowering you into the water. 

Your eyes shift towards them before quickly looking away as your bottom lip quivers. 

“Talk to us, princess. What do you need?”

“Sit with me… hold me…hurting.”

They climb in without hesitation and promptly collect you in their arms. It was always slightly amusing for them to see how you behaved in this headspace. Eddie had only ever really dealt with brats who threw tantrums. You were far from a brat and due to your history with your exes, you seemed to close into yourself and close off. That was hard for them because they needed��you to be vocal and tell them what you needed so they could help make you feel better.

They never wanted to push you this far and they knew they fucked up. 

Eddie pressed your head to his chest while Steve laid his own on your shoulder. You sat with them until the water got cold and even then they didn’t move till you said you were ready. They carefully dried you off before putting some baggy clothes on you and carrying you to the living room. 

“Are you hungry, baby? We have some frozen pizza in there I think.” The metalhead sighs when you don’t respond. “How about we make it and then if you’re hungry later at least it will be ready.”

Steve immediately headed for the kitchen and your eyes turn to watch him, noticing his hands shake as he carefully reads the box he’s holding. Eddie pushes some of your hair behind your ear before telling you he’ll be right back and heading towards his friend. They whisper to each other but you just barely make out what they are saying. 

“Harrington, you have to calm down. She’s not upset with us but herself. She thinks she did something wrong by using her safe word.”

“Eddie, she couldn’t even say the word because of me. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know and she knows that to but in her headspace right now she doesn’t understand that. She sees you panicking and she thinks it’s because you didn’t get to cum.”, he sighs. “Blame those fucking idiots she dated. I imagine if she didn’t know what aftercare was, if she had used the safe word with any of them they would have just left her there.”

Steve’s fist clenched at the thought but when his gaze shifted to you he noticed you watching them and flashed you a big Harrington smile with a wink. To his relief, you softly smiled in return. 

Eddie came back to sit beside you, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv.

“I don’t know what would be on right now but—” Your hand reached out to stop him and his smile grew when you curled up into his side. “’Unsolved Mysteries’. Let’s see who got kidnapped by aliens tonight.”

“Aliens aren’t real, Ed.”, Steve scolded as he came around the corner and flopped down on the couch. 

“Pfft. Non-believer.” The longhaired boy rolls his eyes as you grin but he doesn’t miss the slight wince when his fingers run down your arm. 

***

By the time the show ended, you had returned to your old self as you giggled at their banter and ate the food they offered.

“Steve, I agree with Eddie there totally is aliens out there but I’m going to need you to make sure if I disappear you search through the human world first! Don’t let him get distracted!”

“Honey, if you went missing I would move heaven and earth to find you.”

That made you genuinely smile as Eddie continued to play with your hair. The other man bounced back beside you, holding an icepack and gestured for your arm. 

“Oh, it’s ok. I’m ok.”

“Sweetheart, you’re right. It is ok. Let Stevie see your arm.”

“I don’t want you guys to be sad. You do so much for me…I can…I can take care of it myself.”

“My love, do you remember what we told you after we play rough?”

“But, but—”

“What did we say, Y/N?”

“Aftercare is important afterwards. Not just for me but you guys to. But, Steve, you guys made me cum so many times and neither of you got finish.”

“Princess, that is literally the last thing on our minds right now. All we care about is that you feel safe and that you aren’t in pain. You didn’t do anything wrong by giving us the signal and getting our attention. Can you say that for me?”

“I did nothing wrong by signaling for us to stop.”

“Good girl.”, Eddie kisses your temple. “You still deserve to be taken care of after no matter what, babe. It’s just a little bit different because Steve and I need to see you and hear from you to fully understand so this doesn’t happen again.”

You nodded in understanding as you lifted up your sleeve. “Eddie was holding me to tightly and it hurt.”

The metalhead shifted his body to sit across from you on the coffee table so he could get a better look before Steve covered it with ice. Purple fingerprints were starting to form around your bicep and he could see the little indents from his fingernails digging into your skin. 

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize.”

You turned a bit and pulled down your collar exposing your throat a bit more. They could both see the imprint of where Steve’s hand had been. 

“I couldn’t breathe.”

“I didn’t realize either. Shit…I was so lost in my own head, honey—”

“That bothered me the most. You two were so quiet and your eyes seemed so vacant. Eddie usually you give me a kiss when you come home but you went straight to your bedroom. When we lay together, you play with my hair or touch my skin but neither of you did that. When you kept making me cum and I started to cry, you both soothe me or praise me but you didn’t this this time. It felt…weird like…I was with two different men.”

They both exhaled heavily as they absorbed what you were saying. 

“I almost got fired today.” You and Steve sat at attention at his comment. “Someone broke into the record store and stole a bunch of shit but instead of leaving it there they spray painted ‘Freak’ on the wall as well as some satanist symbols, I don’t even know.”, Eddie rolled his eyes. “My boss said this isn’t the kind of attention he wants and he may have to let me go. I had to beg literally almost on my knees for him to keep me on.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry.”, you comforted. 

“I hate this fucking town. They’re never going to see me as anything else than fucking trailer trash. I felt so helpless and I took that out on you, sweetheart. I am so fucking sorry.”

“My dad showed up at the video store today and embarrassed me in front of Robin. He said that if I couldn’t get into college then I should come intern with him and learn the trade. Like that asshole would ever hand over his company to me. I’m never going to be good enough for him.”

“You’re good enough for us, Stevie. You’re more than enough.”, you coo as you reach for his hand. 

“I took that out on you to, honey. I’m sorry. I needed to feel more in control and… God this fucking kills me.”, he sighs as his fingers trace the skin along your neck. “This is never going to happen again, Y/N. I promise.”

“Me to.”, Eddie follows. “And we are really proud of you for using your safe word and following those steps we put in place.”

“I love you.”

The metalhead climbs back on to the sofa as both boys wrap their arms obnoxiously around you making you giggle.

#################

The next couple of days they continued to look after you making sure you were alright and constantly trying to make up for hurting you. Steve came home one day with flowers while Eddie bought you a cute little silver bracelet he knew you’d love. 

That Friday evening when you got off of work, you walked into your apartment met with dimmed lights and candles lit on the table. 

“Um, what is happening?”, you smile as you walk towards the counter that has a note with your name on it. 

“Baby Girl,

In your room is present #1 of the evening. Go put it on, beautiful.

We love you. 

-Eddie X Steve”

You blush as you run excitedly towards your bedroom to find a flat box with a bow on top. Gasping when you pull it open, you hold up the gorgeous red dress with matching flats and spin around giddily as you quickly put it on. 

While you’re a adjusting your make up in the bathroom, a clearing throat grabs your attention. 

“Oh wow.”, you grin as your eyes fall upon Eddie in a suit. “You look handsome.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m not as good looking as you though.” The metalhead extends his elbow and you gladly loop your arm through his as he leads you back out into the living room where an equally well-dressed Steve was waiting. 

“Oh, baby, you look amazing.”, you coo as he grins in your direction. 

“Me? That dress looked gorgeous in the store but it looks even better on you.”

He comes around to kiss your cheek before guiding you to your table that was fancied up with a white tablecloth. Beaming over at them, you watched as they moved about the kitchen, whispering to each other, and finally coming back to you with a plate of delicious looking food.

“Did you guys make this?”

“Princess, the apartment is still standing and isn’t on fire so no.”, Eddie chuckled. “We ordered it from your favorite place but instead of eating out of Styrofoam we upped the ante by putting it on plates.”

You giggled when he winked at you and patiently waited for them to take a seat so you could eat together. 

“Not that I don’t appreciate this but may I ask why?”

“We just…we love you and we wanted to show you how much we appreciate you.”, Steve smiles as he reaches for your hand.

“We also wanted to show you how proud we are of you. We know you’ve been through a lot, Y/N but you’ve come so far in being more open with us and you’ve even shown us some things as well. Like Harrington said, we love you…so much.”

“I love you to.”

The three of you continued to talk as you ate your meal. Eddie said he was able to smooth things over with his boss and stayed behind a few extra hours to help get his store back in order. Steve told his dad to politely fuck off and asked Robin to help him search for some career options that would work best for him. You were always so proud of them, never caring what they did for a living but just wanted them to be happy. 

“Thank you so much for dinner. It was really good.”, you beam at them as they clear the table and start cleaning up the area. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, honey. We were thinking once we get everything put away here, maybe, we could watch a movie or something.”

“Baby, we got all dressed up, you went all out on dinner, and now you just want to sit down and watch a movie?”

“Oh, um, I mean did you want to go somewhere, sweetheart?”

Leaning over the counter, you look up at them with big doe eyes.

“My bedroom…or the couch…Hell, even the counter here. I don’t care.”, you giggle.

“How are you feeling?”, Steve asks as his eyes shift towards your neck. The bruises had long since faded but you could tell he could still see them almost as if that image would never go away.

“Horny it seems.”, Eddie laughs making you smile.

Coming around to their side, the metalhead lifts you onto the island and you reach for the other boy, clasping your arms around his neck.

“I’m feeling much better, Daddy. I promise. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself for what happened. You both took such good care of me. Please, let me take care of you.”

As you bring his lips to yours, his palms slide down to the small of your back and pull you towards the edge closer to his waist. A whimper escapes your throat as the growing bulge in his pants steadily grinds against your uncovered core; the fabric of his slacks rubbing just enough on your clit to have you opening your legs wider to allow him more access.

“Does that feel good, baby girl? Fuck. I can feel you soaking through my pants.”

“Y-You should take them off then.”, you breathily laugh as he rests his forehead on yours, smiling at your neediness. “Please, Daddy. I want you so bad.”

A low growl emits from Steve’s throat as he quickly fumbles with his belt buckle and frees his leaking cock from its confinement. Your mouth falls open as you both watch him guide his length into you entrance and your hands cup his face as your legs wrap around his waist. 

“Yes, baby. You feel so good.”, you moan as your fingers unbutton the top half of his shirt so your hands can roam his chest, making him mewl as his head falls into your neck and he thrusts into you at a bit faster.

Eddie’s own fingers come from the side and delicately move your hair behind your ear.

“You’re so beautiful, princess. I like watching your face when we’re fucking you. I love that you’re ours.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you hugged Steve tighter to your body. 

“Don’t—mmm—don’t worry about me tonight. I want you both to cum.”

Freezing completely, the man in your arms tilted back so his gaze could meet yours. 

“Honey, what do you think helps get us there? We like making you fall apart.”

“That’s an understatement.”, Eddie adds making Steve chuckle. 

“It fucking drives me crazy feeling your soft hands and nails drag along my skin.”, he whispers, gradually pumping into you again as his palms cling to your hips. “Those tiny whimpers you make when I hit that spot inside of you right there.”

Between his last couple of words, he thrust into you roughly making your toes curl against him. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Cum for me. Cum for Daddy.” 

Going back his original rhythm, you nuzzled your face into his shoulder, muffling your moans as you did what he asked. 

“Fuck, Y/N. The way your pussy grips me when you cum.” Placing his hand on the back of your head and his other arm wrapped around your back, he presses you to him while chasing his high. Steve’s heavy pants warm your ear and both of you groan as he fills you up. 

Releasing you from his hold, he leans back to tenderly kiss your lips before backing away so Eddie could take his place. After light heartedly giggling through his teeth, he grabs a napkin off the counter and dabs at your forehead. 

“So sweaty.”

“Aren’t you about to make me sweatier?”, you tease.

Grinning, he takes you in his arms and carries you into the living room where he playfully tosses you down on the sofa where he lifts off your dress. 

“Wait.”, you plead as he began unbuttoning his shirt. “Leave it on like he did. It’s…kind of hot…makes me feel…small. In a good way!”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

As he takes a seat on the couch, he pulls down his pants and boxers enough to free his cock before motioning for you to come sit on his lap. After positioning you with your back against his chest and placing your legs on either side of his own, Eddie takes hold of his length as you lift your hips slightly and slide down onto him. 

“Oh my god.”

“Atta girl, princess. Fuck. So fucking wet and warm.”, he murmurs in your ear as your head leans against his shoulder.

Ring lined fingers dig into your thighs as your roll your lower body slowly, enjoying the feeling of his cock stretching your walls and rubbing your g-spot just so. 

“Ride my dick, sweetheart. Make yourself cum.”

Tilting forward, you balance your hands on his knees as you bounce on his lap. 

“Yes. You feel so good, Sir.”

“You know, Y/N, I love watching you come undone to. The way your body moves and trembles. The way you moan my name or title. How your pussy trenches my cock. Shit, baby.”

Tugging your hair, he yanks you against him again as he brings his fingers around to massage your clit.

“FUCK! Please, Sir, please.”, you beg. 

As your orgasm washes over you, his digits move faster as he roughly thrusts up into you to elongate your high. Falling limply against him, Eddie holds you to him until his rhythm starts to falter and you feel his spend warm your insides. 

While he tries to catch his breath, your lips lazily trail along his jaw line till he turns to meet your mouth with his own.

Lost in your bliss, you allow them to carry you to your bathroom and take care of you. As you stood in the shower your arms remained around them as they cleaned you and placed soft kisses along your skin. 

“Thank you for always listening and taking care of me. Even before we got together you guys have always been good friends to me.”

After changing your clothes and placing you under the covers in your bed, they climb in on either side of you and take you in their arms. 

“You’re welcome. I don’t know about Stevie but I wish I had told you earlier how I felt about you…could have saved you from a lot of heartache.”, Eddie sighs. 

“I was afraid you wouldn’t like me the same way and I’d lose you. That’s why I never said anything but, yeah, I wish I had said something sooner. I remember once you told us you thought you didn’t deserve to be happy and that just killed me. I thought ‘we could make her happy.’”

“You do…both of you…you always have. I know we can’t go back in time but I have you now and that’s all I care about. For the past view months, I’ve actually felt the safest I’ve ever been. Not just physically but mentally and emotionally. I can be open with your guys about anything and I know you still love me. I hope you know you can do that same with me. I’m always here for you no matter what.”

##############

@goth-cowgirl-03

Series here

[inlovewithgreta]

Jealousy — Addison Montgomery x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Synopsis: You get jealous over McSteamy’s antics and decide to take it out on Addison in more ways than one.

Warnings: Semi-public sex, praise, overstimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, etc…

Word Count: 2.7k

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Working at a hospital, you could never walk into work knowing what your day was going to be like. Each day was different, but your favorite days were slow days. The days where nothing major happened and all you had to do was check on patients and fill out paperwork.

Specializing in the pediatric division of Seattle Grace was always interesting to say the least. You worked with a plethora of kids who each had their own personality, and you couldn't help but love each and every one of them.

At first, your emotions became a problem with your cases, as you got too attached, but the longer you were at the job, the easier it got to control. Although, every once in a while, you found yourself slipping, and Addison had to help remind you to keep your head on your shoulders.

Although she was your boss, Addison had taken a liking to you the moment she saw you. The moment your eyes met hers for the first time, she knew you were going to be hers.

As you were finishing your rounds, a familiar high-pitched laugh brought your attention over to the Nurses' Station just down the hallway. Addison was seen speaking with a smirking Mark. Knowing their past, Addison assured you that what they had was over, but it wasn't her you didn't trust, it was him.

Mark was a player and a jokester.

And he repeatedly got on your nerves.

Ever since you started your relationship with Addison, Mark had seemed to make it his job to purposely set you off. He knew how jealous you got when he even looked in Addison's direction, let alone stood mere inches from her making her laugh.

Even you knew he was purposely trying to make you jealous, but you couldn't help it. Just the mere thought of him even laying a finger on her made your blood boil. You had a love for Addison, and although you had yet to tell her, both Mark and Addison knew and made a bet with how long it would take you to admit it.

You couldn't help but stop in your tracks and gaze at the duo talking excitedly to each other. Mark saw you over Addison's shoulder faking to distract yourself even though your eyes were glued to her back.

Your cheeks had already flushed, and when Mark purposely laid a hand on her shoulder to pull her into a hug, a tight smirk spread across his lips when his eyes landed on you. He noticed the way you instantly tensed with the slight flair of your nostrils when you huffed. It was obvious you immediately grew jealous at their contact while Addison had no idea of your presence.

He had you right where he wanted you.

Usually, Addison would catch onto his ploys, but as your presence was unknown to her, she had failed to realize what the man was actually doing.

When Mark finally pulled away from the hug, you took that as your opportunity to stride up to the Nurses' Station just beside Addison and hand one of the women behind the desk your files.

The second Addison heard your voice as you thanked the nurse, her eyes immediately darted from you over to Mark who stood with his arms crossed and a cocky smirk spread across his face.

"Addie, do you mind helping me with something?" You immediately spoke out just as Mark opened his mouth the speak.

"Of course, darling, with what?"

"You see, I've got this annoying rash. . ." You glare over at Mark, "and it is being a pain in my ass, would you help me get rid of it?" You attempt to lie, but to the two of them, it was clear what you wanted.

"What a coincidence! I have one too, just under my shirt here, maybe I should take it off and have Addie here take a look at it." Mark toys, only adding fuel to the fire he saw in your eyes.

"Mark, that's enough—" Addison goes to stop the conversation but you are quick to cut her off.

"No, Mark, go ahead and take your shirt off. I've always wondered what old man physique you had hiding under there."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, sweetheart." His smirk only grew when he noticed your eye roll. He knew you hated when he called you that, which made him say it as often as he could.

"The only sweetheart here is Addie, isn't that right, darling?" You slide a hand possessively around her waist.

Mark attempted to cut Addison's next words off with another one of his annoying lines, but you had grown tired of his antics and walked both you and Addison away from the grey-haired man who eyed the two of you walking off with a curious brow.

"Aww c'mon, Y/N, let's just hug it out!" Mark called out, eliciting a heavy eye roll from you.

"If he so lays a finger on me, I'll break it."

"I don't doubt that one bit, love. Where are we going?" Addison asked curiously, when she noticed you had led her to the more emptier part of the patient area.

"I want to show you something."

Your eyes scan every room until you walk past one that is completely empty, and nearly push Addison inside and close the door behind the two of you.

Addison's back is instantly pressed against the cold mahogany door as your hands make home upon her hips, and your lips hungrily press against hers.

Addison was quick to reciprocate the kiss, a small hum eliciting from her throat as her hands made way to your cheeks, pulling you as close to her as possible.

"What did Mark say that was so funny?" You nonchalantly asked, sending small kisses along her slim jawline.

"Is that what this is about? Mark?" Addison softly laughed. She didn't think you were being serious, which caused you to gently nip at her neck, earning a small whimper from her.

"He still wants you." You say in between kisses as you make your way back up to her soft lips.

"I don't think so—"

"You don't think he does, but I know he does." Your eyes bore straight into hers, before purposely darting to her lips as if you were about to kiss her again. To her dismay, you hovered just mere centimeters from her face, a smirk toying at your lips when she attempts to close the distance, and you having to rest a gentle finger along her lips to stop her.

"But," You continue, starting to walk the two of you towards the empty bed, "that's too bad because you are mine. And I'm going to prove it to you. . . Right. Now." Your finger leaves her lips to slide down to her chest and gently pushing her down onto the bed.

Addison already knew what to do, as she didn't say a word and immediately unbuttoned her top, revealing her royal purple laced bra that tightly held her breasts. You crawled on top of her just after she kicked her shoes off, mouth instantly making contact with her tanned skin. You nibbled and sucked along her collarbone, leaving fresh love marks that only you got the pleasure of seeing. . .

At least that's what Addison thought, until she seen what you were doing next.

You had made a small mark on her neckline that was sure to be seen by anyone who paid enough attention, and you knew exactly who that person was going to be.

"Wait, everyone is going to see that one." She mumbled.

"That's the plan, Addie."

Addison let out a sigh, knowing she would have to explain that one later. You slowly kissed down her body, eyes fixated on her bright green ones that dilated as you inched your way down her stomach.

Heat rushed through Addison's cheeks as her gaze failed to leave your own as you tucked your fingers below her waistband to pull her pink scrubs down her slender legs, revealing her matching purple panties.

"Wet for me already, I see."

Her hips jolted towards your touch, "Does that surprise you?" She breathed out.

"Not at all." You smirked, knowing exactly how she reacts to you, and you alone.

You hook your teeth under her panties to glide them down her legs and off her body.

You waste no time in spreading her thick thighs, your hands laying on the inner flesh of her thighs to keep them in place. Once her panties were off, your bring your lips to kiss a small trail up her tanned legs.

Her hand flew to yours in attempts to get you to do something, "Come on..." You could tell she was getting impatient, but you needed her to feel some frustrations like you did.

You tsked, "That's not how to get what you want, and you know that." You responded with a bite to her thigh.

Your action pulled a whimper from the redhead, knowing that you were right.

"Please..." She corrected.

You looked at her with a small smirk, you couldn't restrain yourself anymore. You wanted her just as bad as she wanted you, so you caved.

Addison writhed slightly at the coolness of your flattened tongue along her folds. Small hums elicited from the redhead at the newfound pleasure between her legs.

Her head fell back along the plush pillow, hips begging for more as they bucked forward ever so slightly. Bringing two fingers to her center only increased the numerous noises coming from Addison's red lips.

"How does this feel, love?" Your curved fingers glide at a steady pace.

"So good. . ."

Addison's hips bucked as your tongue flicked against her sensitive clit. Her chest rose and fell with each pleasurable passing second. She was at your complete mercy. Body and mind both hyper-fixating on you and only you.

"You look so beautiful like this. How did I ever get so lucky?" Feather-like kisses were placed across her skin, trailing up her body back to her rounded breasts. Your mouth attached to her nipple trapped behind the thin layer of lace covering her chest.

You knew she would finish if you had her directly in her mouth, but wanted her to last longer, building up the pressure little by little.

"More. Please." Addison couldn't help her pleas as you teased her breasts. Her freshly manicured hand roamed your locks, fingers tightly gripping the hair at your scalp.

As much as you wanted to make her wait, the fiery look in her glazed over emerald eyes were too hard to ignore. Your ears were blessed with a low moan as you added a third finger, bringing your movements to a halt as you let her adjust.

The grinding of her hips allowed you to restart your pace, your mouth kissing along her lace covered breast before moving back up to her neck, adding more love marks to the opposite side you never touched earlier.

"So close—" Addison whimpered, the feeling of your palm pressing against her clit had her legs beginning to shake. "Fuck, I'm so close." She tugged at your hair, pulling your face up to hers so her lips could connect with yours in a needy kiss.

"Let go, my sweet Addie." You encouraged against her lips.

Luck was still on your side, as your beautiful Addie came with a scream of your name, a certain someone had walked by the patient room by chance. Mark had stopped briefly as he heard the unmistakable sounds of sex, he knew them well, but was caught off guard as a familiar voice screamed your name. Once the shock wore off, he scoffed with amusement before continuing on with what he was doing before his curiosity took ahold of him.

Addison quivered as she came. Thighs attempted to close around your hand, but your body pressing flushed against hers made it impossible for them to close.

Sweet moans echoed off the bare hospital walls, your movements never faltering from her orgasm. Addison's brows knitted while she watched a smirk slowly creep along your face that was now moving back between her legs.

Her legs trembled, a small whimper eliciting from her when you replaced your fingers with your tongue. You carelessly wiped your fingers clean of her orgasm along your pants, watching her every twitch and wiggle as you never eased up on the pleasure.

"Since you wanted this so bad, let's see if we can get another one out of you, hmm?"

Your tongue lapped up her release, sliding across her folds and up to her clit, lips wrapping around the bud and adding gentle suction.

"I can't!" Addison cried out, her free hand holding a death grip along the bedsheets. Tears welled at the corner of her eyes, pleasure and overstimulation clouding her senses.

"You can, my love. You're always so good for me. Just one more. You can do it." You encouraged her.

Her head nodded frantically, the uncomfortableness of the overstimulation slowly returning back to pleasure. Hips threatened to buck against your face, expletives forcing themselves from her mouth.

She loved when you got jealous. It showed in the way you pleasured her. Your usual one and done attitude always disappearing as you attempted to show her just how good she had it with you. You were the only one who ever made her feel this way, and you knew that, but still made it a point to prove it to her each and every time.

Her thighs wrapped tightly around your head as she came for the second time. Her orgasm hit her harder this time around, cries of pleasure sounding like music to your ears.

You hummed as you lapped her up after she came, hands pulling her thighs from your head, allowing air to enter your lungs after she had temporarily cut you off.

"Oh fuck..." She brought her arm up to her face to wipe away the sweat that formed on her features from your ministrations.

You just smirked as you peppered kisses all across her body until you came face to face to her once more.

"Maybe I need to make you jealous more often."

Your smirk lessened as your features darkened slightly, "If you do, I can promise that next time won't be so enjoyable for you." You accentuated your point by pressing your knee to her overstimulated core, causing a slightly pained whimper to come from her.

"But we both know you're my good girl, and you wouldn't do such a thing, right?" You give her a pointed look.

She nodded, "Right."

A sweet smile replaced your previous look, "Excellent! Now, I'm sure someone has probably notice the top two attendings' absence in this hospital. So, it's best we get back to work."

Addison sighed, knowing you'd both have to go back to your professionalism when you returned to work. You lifted from the bed, offering your copper-haired girlfriend a hand.

You smirked to yourself when she stood, the slight quivering of her legs still very prominent from her intense orgasms. It only took a minute for you to help her redress, and run your fingers through her bedhead to calm the frizz in attempts to remove the look of sex from her.

Addison attempted to calm her breathing, feet sliding back into her work shoes. You gave her a quick peck against her forehead, taking her stray hairs between your fingers and tucking it behind her pierced ears as you looked lovingly into her eyes.

"Ready?" You questioned.

"Mhm, you go first and I'll follow after a few seconds in case of any wandering eyes."

You agreed, unlocking the door and poking your head out to look both ways, and letting out a sigh of relief at the empty hallway, completely unaware that a certain grey-haired man was waiting back at the Nurse's Station with a quizzical brow.

You took quick strides from the room, Addison following suit just a few feet behind you, attempting to tame her shaking legs. When your eyes met with Mark's, Addison was quick to turn the other way, clearing her throat and fixing her hair as she walked past the two of you.

You knew the antics that would come from Mark but you wordlessly responded to them all with a smirk, Addison found it nearly impossible to clear her dirty thoughts that wandered through her mind as she attempted to return her focus back to work for the rest of her shift.

[syneilesis]

☕

She has her hair tied up today, Yves thinks.

The woman grins brightly at him, phone clutched in hand. Emma—Yves had come to remember after she ordered the bitterest coffee with the sweetest smile—has graduated into becoming a regular, and a loyal one at that. At least four times a week and usually in the afternoons. She'd come with a book under her arm and a charming smile that never fails to trap Yves's gaze for seconds longer than he'd like to admit. The second time she came by, she complimented the pastries, which filled Yves with warmth and pride and something he couldn't identify. The only hint of it was the heat that pooled in his cheeks and the way he brushed off her praise with a stuttering denial.

"Good afternoon, Yves!" Emma greets, cheerful and sprightly, that has the barista look at her funny.

"You're too happy today," he says, already preparing Emma's drink despite her not even making her order yet. Every time Emma comes to the cafe she'd order the same coffee but with different pastries. After tasting Yves's brew Emma apparently fell in love, as she had gushed to him when she returned, two days later. That time, Yves dropped the paper cup he'd been holding, which caused Nokto—his co-worker during that shift—to guffaw, much to his embarrassment.

"Of course! I'm going to do something brave today."

Yves does a double-take. "Are you finally trying skydiving?"

"What? Oh, no! Not that kind of brave." She shakes her head before bringing up her phone. With a blush she says, "I'm actually going to text this guy I really like. Ask him out. I came here because I want to be in a place that gives me comfort and courage."

Midway through writing Emma's name on the cup, Yves falters. A guy she likes? Is there even one? Is it the blond guy who hangs onto Emma like a hyper golden retriever? That can't be—Yves has seen her repeatedly rebuff the boy, friendzoning him like one can't believe. If it wasn't the blond kid, then who...?

There's a twinge in Yves's chest that he refuses to examine any further, lest he comes away disappointed and broken. He swallows his unease and musters his own courage. "I-I see ..."

Emma goes on, oblivious to Yves's internal dissolution: "Yeah! Do you—would you help me text him?"

"W-What?" It's an effort to mask the distress in his voice. "Help you?"

"Yes. Do you want to see his picture?"

And what can he say to that? First and foremost, Emma is a customer, and Yves has to accommodate her wishes as a service employee. As they say: the customer is always right—in this case, seemingly right.

"Sure," Yves says, for a lack of anything to answer. At the very least he didn't sound like he ate Clavis's cooking. Small victories.

If anything, Emma's grin widens. She raises her phone a little more and turns it around.

Yves stares back at him through the camera screen.

His brows furrow in confusion. "Huh? Your camera's open, all I'm seeing is myse—oh."

Oh.

It clicks, then.

A hot rush of hope and possibility takes over Yves's body, and he feels like floating on air.

"So ..." For the first time, Emma displays uncertainty, her smile straining and shrinking. "What do you think? Should I ask him out...?"

Words of denial and rejection clamor to escape his mouth, but Yves doesn't really think, doesn't really feel that. More than anything, he wants to say yes. Very, very much.

He tries: "I—"

"No flirting on duty."

The anticipation shatters, and Jin grins toothily at them, wagging his eyebrows in a way that summons a furious blush on both Yves's and Emma's cheeks.

"I—" Yves scrambles. "I'm going to get more coffee beans!"

He practically flies to the back door, leaving an amused Jin and a confused Emma. Yves wants the ground to open up and drop him all the way to the earth's core. He's giddy, he's terrified, he wants to burst into a song. He just hopes Emma's still there when he calms down and gets back.

[kariachi]

Oh look, some Gwvin break-up fic.

Kevin has people in his corner ready and happy to help him leave.

~~

Kevin waits until he knows Gwendolyn’s next class has started before he stands up. Stacks his plate and the chips she’d thrown at him on top of hers, slips a tip to match the bill underneath them. People avoid looking at him as he leaves, carefully despite full knowing she would refuse to let this impact her education in any way. That was why he’d chosen midterms in the first place, when she said they would discuss things after her next exam she had meant it.

He'd never agreed to any such thing, but that didn’t keep his gut from roiling even as the sunshine on the walk back to the library- quiet, alone, safe- lifts a weight he’d hardly noticed he was carrying after so long off his shoulders.

By the time he slips inside his apartment he’s ready for a small smile. Immediately Zed is at his side, whining and nuzzling him as he kneels down to pet and praise her. The place is nearly completely packed up, Cooper and Manny in the process of taking apart his largest machines to be loaded onto the trucks waiting off campus for Argit’s signal, Helen darting around for anything they might have missed since everyone had arrived that morning. Three minutes after the start of Gwendolyn’s first class, on the dot.

He does not deserve these people.

“Everything okay,” Argit calls over from where he and Alan are going down a checklist, drawing everyone’s rapt attention. Kevin smiles a little wider for them.

“I’m officially single.”

“Finally!” Helen tries to throw a sharp look at Manny as his cheer echoes, but her relieved grin ruins it. The tension is palpable leaving the room, with multiple sighs of relief and toothy grins. It’s almost surprising nobody is running  to break out some hidden sparkling cider or something. Especially Alan and Cooper, the only ones who had gotten a front row seat to her bullshit, smiling like it’s a holiday and heaving sighs like he’d just dodged a bullet.

Kevin feels like he dodged a bullet. Or took one, it was hard to tell. For all he just, hadn’t been able to take it anymore, hadn’t been able to trust himself not to respond to the next blow with one of his own, he does love her.

Dr Cohen has repeatedly assured him it will mostly pass with time.

“Do I want to know why G’s stuff is strewn across the floor though?” It’s hard not to notice when he looks around the room. Gwendolyn’s bookshelf is the only thing he had intended not to touch, except for leaving all her property on it. Clothes removed from his dresser, dvds from his shelves, toothbrush and shit from the bathroom, etc. But there it is, the only source of mess left in the apartment.

“Well, you know how clumsy Manny and I are,” Helen says, she and the rest all grinning wider. Snorting a laugh, Kevin shakes his head and looks again to the askew bookshelf and scattered property.

“And the scorched wood?”

“Alan sneezed,” Argit says, quickly followed by Manny’s

“That bullshit allergy’s not doing him any favors.” Alan goes dark around the edges but stands proud and beaming, nonetheless. Unsurprising, given pride is radiating off the rest of them.

“And here I thought it was just me and Manny that set that off,” Kevin laughs, unable to keep himself from being just as supportive and approving of the pair as the others.

“I should be so lucky.” Shaking his head in mock sorrow, Alan doesn’t even try to wipe the smile from his face. And he shouldn’t. Gwendolyn would call their actions immature; they all called it something like friendship. Beaming himself, even through the ache in his chest and twists in his gut, Kevin stands and stretches. Pats Zed again and goes to rejoin the moving efforts with thanks and affectionate teasing on his tongue.

He really doesn’t deserve these people, and he’s going to be the next year making sure they know it.

[rubyventing]

Exhibit A. Husband is finally emptying the cat litter, and it only took me breaking down and crying for him to finally get around to setting an alarm to remind himself. He emptied it tonight, and expected praise for it. I've been doing it for months, having asthma attacks, trying to remind him to do it… and all it took for him to finally put an effort in was me breaking down and sobbing. Amazing. /s.

Exhibit B. I spent two hours making supper tonight. Baked some treats for him to bring to work for his coworkers. And I ended up having to do all the cleanup, put the food away, load the dishwasher, wipe down all the counters, sweep the floor where crumbs got dropped, etc. Not an ounce of help from him.

Exhibit C. ( fair warning, this one's a little gross) I keep telling him not to let our two cats into the craft room. There's a lot of things in there that could hurt them if they ingested it, things they could hurt themselves on, etc. There's a reason we keep it all behind a closed door. Well, he let one of the cats in there with him and didn't pay any attention to him. So, our boy, Beanie, ate a piece of a rubber glove. He's okay, don't worry. He threw it right back up… along with a bunch of partially digested food, directly onto our door mat… So, at 11pm, when I should be settling into try to sleep, instead I'm hunched over the bathtub, furiously trying to scrub cat puke out of our rug while my husband just goes, "Oh, well, wasn't my fault. shrugs Thought I put them up high enough", and rolls over to go to sleep. And to think, he wants to talk about having kids… I can't even trust him to look after either of our cats, and he thinks I'd trust him with the well-being of a tiny human? Absolutely not. PS: Don't worry about him trying to baby trap me. I have no intention of having his children, and am on a form of birth control he can't tamper with.

Exhibit D. He leaves his clothes everywhere. Not 24 hours after me begging him to, please, clean up after himself, I have to pick up mildewing towels… He leaves his socks on the living room for me to pick up, his dirty underwear on the bathroom floor, etc. And not only that, but (also going to be a little gross), he'll "trust a fart" at work and then bring home his literally shit-stained pants for me to scrub the actual shit out of off… or will blow out the crotch of his pants and just toss them at me to sew back up for him.

This is not an exhaustive list.

The disrespect he continuously showed me during the time we had to share a home with his mom and, yes, it was just as terrible as you'd think. When he and his mom kept letting my older cat outside against my wishes (usually when I was asleep in the mornings) and called me dramatic when I protested and was anxious about her…. Which culminated in the neighborhood dog treeing her ( thank god, it wasn't anything worse) and my disabled ass having to go out, in 40f weather, at 6 am, to climb a ladder, drag her down, and get horribly scratched up by her all the way back home, because she was afraid.

The fact he once threw his phone across the room because it wouldn't charge. Or, when he couldn't find something he was looking for, started stomping around, throwing things and, when I just looked at him in fear, he snapped, "Don't look at me like that! It's just gonna piss me off more!" ( SA TW) The fact he uses the threat of sexual assault to get me to listen to him. I have a history of pretty awful sexual abuse… and he has repeatedly used that against me. "If you don't stay in bed and go to sleep, I'm going to get you worked up and leave you hanging". AKA, touch me sexually without my consent, then him rolling over and going to sleep.

I don't feel safe with him. I don't feel connected to him. Every time I look at him, I feel like I care less and less about what happens to our relationship. I still love him, I know I do, but there's so many issues. We've both talked about marriage counseling, but I don't know if these issues can be fixed, there's so many. And I don't know if I want it fixed, or if I just want it to end. I don't like when he touches me. He doesn't appreciate me. He talks down to me like a child, talks over me, criticizes me. He lets his mom shit talk me freely, and even took part in shit-talking me… god, the amount of times I would wake up in the morning, when we were all sharing a home, and hear them saying genuinely awful things about me in the other room. And then crying, cleaning myself up, and going about my day, pretending I didn't hear them.

I'm so tired. I'm so done. Marriage isn't supposed to be like this.

[wjbs-aus]

And the answer is "The evil CEO in the reboot pilots a massive mech shaped like a cowboy"; instead of a standard boss-fight, the protagonist hijacks an AI-controlled tank and causes the CEO's company's stock to drop, then the player has to choose whether to fire him or shoot him in a cutscene.

Context for the others below.

Note: "the Boss", capitalised, refers to the protagonist. Sorry if this gets confusing.

In at least one timeline, the protagonist is canonically non-binary.

During one cutscene near the end of the 2022 reboot, one of the Boss's friends/lieutenants/roommates refers to them using neutral pronouns.

This is notable because both The Third and IV (and probably Gat Out Of Hell, before they patched out character-importing) do have a system that changes certain lines of dialogue depending on the Boss's sex (probably because those games had a much more limited body-shape customisation system than 2 and the reboot, with a binary male/female toggle rather than 2's slider and the reboot's multiple sliders).

Yes I know this doesn't mean it's strictly canon per se, but I'd argue it counts.

One of the third game's DLCs ends with a shitty director getting impaled.

Gangstas In Space, the second story DLC for Saints Row: The Third, focuses on one of the Third Street Saints' attempts at adapting the eponymous comic. The film's director, Andy, is a massive asshole, constantly heaping praise on the Boss (who is terrible at acting) while talking down to their co-star, Jenny, and endangering his actors. Over the course of the DLC, the Boss tries to get Jenny to stand up for herself, culminating in her ramming Andy with a (somehow functional) spaceship prop, impaling him on its sharp nosecone.

One of the bosses in 2 can use magic, and survives being shot and beheaded.

Mr. Sunshine, the main lieutenant of the Sons of Samedi, uses (a somewhat culturally-insensitive depiction of) Haitian Vodou during his boss-fight, giving him the power to ragdoll the Boss and keep coming back after being shot repeatedly during the post-battle cutscene. The Boss decapitates him and throws him onto the conveyor-belt of a meat-packing facility, but he returns in IV, where he hosts one of the radio stations (although this could be a Simulation construct like the other returning dead characters, and he's shown in Gat Out Of Hell to have been recruited into Blackbeard's crew).

The fan-favourite badass guy meets god, resets the universe and becomes a cop.

Speaking of Gat Out Of Hell, the game "standalone expansion"'s ending involves fan-favourite character (and, for this game only, protagonist) Johnny Gat meeting God, who grants him one wish. The player gets to pick what the wish is, but the "canon" one is to reset the universe so that the Saints never formed; in this new timeline, Johnny is a police officer. This was meant to lead into Volition's next game, Agents of MAYHEM (which is basically Overwatch as a singleplayer-only crime-sandbox, and with alternate-timeline versions of Saints Row characters thrown in, including a version of Johnny who is a member of the Seoul PD and goes by his birth-name, Ji-Hoon), that game's failure and the existence of the 2022 Saints Row reboot leaves it open to interpretation.

One cutscene in Gat Out Of Hell is a full-on disneyesque musical number.

Do I really need to explain this?

One of IV's DLCs has a built-in commentary-track… by the characters.

This one's gonna be a bit complicated; basically, Saints Row IV's first story DLC, Enter the Dominatrix, is essentially a look at what could have been in regards to a cancelled final DLC for Saints Row: The Third that eventually turned into IV. The pre-mission cutscenes and mid-level dialogue are presented as the characters talking about the DLC's production, in the style of a director's commentary. It includes things like a minor character from the first two games appearing as an expy of Neo from the Matrix only to be skipped over, the game's main antagonist complaining about his limited role in the DLC, and the game skipping over several boring missions.

Also all the cutscenes are (intentionally) unfinished, with most of them being animatics, and one being essentially a spiritual successor to Postal 2's infamous Pigeon Mission cutscene (albeit with a toy spaceship and model can-monster instead of Vince Desi).

A major questline in the reboot has the protagonist get REALLY into LARPing.

There's a whole questline in the 2022 Saints Row reboot where The Boss is convinced to get involved with a city-wide post-apocalyptic LARP session, and they not only get really into it, but actually win.

You get turned into a toilet while infiltrating a rival gang's computer system.

Saints Row: The Third has a mission where the Boss hacks into the computer system of the Cyberpunk-themed Deckers by using a chair to Tron themself into it. When they first enter, they take the form of a floating toilet, before turning into an animated blowup doll, and finally a wireframe humanoid.

Krampus is an alien AI designed to turn Santa evil. He speaks entirely in rhyme.

The main antagonist of the Saints Row IV DLC, How The Saints Saved Christmas, is an alien AI called Santa Clawz, who resembles a messed-up evil version of normal Santa; near the end of the DLC, he turns into a giant monster with antlers, resembling most depictions of Krampus, and is defeated by the Boss performing various festive acts.

It is worth noting that I technically got this wrong though, as Krampus apparently is a separate entity in the Saints Row universe, who Santa is on relatively good terms with.

Reblog if you vote, I guess.

Note: options are based on Saints Row 2, The Third, IV, Gat Out Of Hell and 2022; I haven't played the first game. I did not include anything about Agents of MAYHEM, which is technically not a Saints Row despite sharing some characters and being connected.

Also I'm not including an option for people who know the answer. Sorry!

[nikkisheep]

Subby Billy x dom F!reader

Reader wants to try pegging with Billy (after some short convincing Billy fully trust his girlfriend been dating ever since 6th grade) agrees to try something new when they get started (after some little fingering, and she finds his prostate quickly but doesn’t let him come tho 😊) she repeatedly hits Billy’s prostate VERY hard (every second that passes she goes faster and faster and Billy is just screaming at this point not able to make any sentences what so ever put for her to slow down *they have a safe word but unless Billy actually says the word she it’s slowing down any time soon besides Billy likes rough s*x with his love*.) To the point that he can’t stop coming and right when he is on the verge to coming he managed to say this “MOMMYYYYYY AHAHAHA can’t stop coming mommy pls make it stop *eyes crossed, tongue sticking out* (panting like a dog) you try to talk him back into reality because he was so deep into subspace to not know what’s going on around him.

Nipple play (Billy has sensitive nipples), Mommy kink, rough play, choking kink, praise kink, prostate message, dumbification (Billy getting fu*ked senseless to the point he doesn’t know his own name anymore), fingering, edging, safeword (made but not used), subspace, fluff, aftercare, and overstimulation

Sub!Billy Hargrove x Dom!reader

Warnings: They are listed in the request but just in case, Nipple play (Billy has sensitive nipples), Mommy kink, rough play, choking kink, praise kink, prostate message, dumbification (Billy getting fu*ked senseless to the point he doesn’t know his own name anymore), fingering, edging, safeword (made but not used), subspace, fluff, aftercare, and overstimulation

Summary: Billy just wants someone to take care of him for a bit and you are the perfect person for that.

Normally, Billy would never let this happen. Him being spread eagle style, nakes and you with your finger in his ass. Normally, he have never let this happen.

Today, Billy came home in a sad but grumpy mood. You have been living together for a while now and you were hoping that he was in a good mood because you wanted to tell him about the intership you got for the paper. But when you saw those eyes, you knew that he had had a rough day. You wanted to take care of your baby.

So here you were now, slowly massaging Billy's prostate and he was a whimpering mess. Before all of this, you created a safe word (Coconut) and you hoped he wouldn't have to say it. So, you took a nipple in your warm mouth and he whined at the soft sucking. He tossed his head back and moaned out a soft mommy.

"Mommy's little boy doing so good for her," You say against his skin.

He moaned. He was so far gone into his subspace.

Billy and you started dating back in sixth grade. These years have been the best of your life. You would never do anything that could damage your relationship with him. So you set boundaries. You wanted both of you to be comfortable with everything.

"Such a good boy, mommy's good boy." You flick your tongue on his left nipple.

"Mommy-"

"What baby?"

"Going to come!"

"No," You pull your mouth and finger away.

"Noooo," He whined.

Billy looked at you with wide eyes and tears started coming to his water line. He looked so pretty like this. You move to flip his onto his stomach and insert two fingers into his hole. You claim his lips with your own and swallow his moans. You tweak his nipple and his hips jut up.

His prostate started to become very sensitive, causing him to whimper from overstimulation. Everytime that he got close to coming, you stopped. You wanted for when he did climax, it would be intense and feel good for him.

"Mommy, I need to come so bad!" He whined.

"Such a good boy for me," You praised.

"Mommy," He moaned, begging for you to make him come.

You pull away to look at him, he was so far gone. Drunk from pleasure coursing through his veins. You kissed him and he whined for you. Begging for you. Whimpering for you.

You rub his prostate again and he starts to climax. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, mouth opening, sweating and panting. His back arched from his position and moans out loudly.

"You are doing so good," You tell him. Cum paints the bedsheet, and it continues. It's never ending.

"Mommy, can't stop it. Please stop it," He cries, pleasure coursing through every inch of his body, making him tremble.

"It's okay baby," You say while removing your fingers from his ass.

You turn him over to his back, kissing his forehead. You change the sheets and clean Billy up. Once he was changed into some clean boxes, you cuddle in bed. You let Billy lay on your chest, running your hand through his hair. You told him how much you loved him, how much of a good boy he was, how beautiful he is.

"I love you," You whisper as Billy doozes off.

"Thank you for this," He sighs.

"You're welcome."

[killerbananas]

c-could i please get some reiner x afab!reader x porco hcs?

Reiner x Reader x Porco HCs

🔞 mdni | prompt | masterlist | Reiner x afab!reader x Porco

Warnings: smut; dp/anal/vaginal penetration, come swallowing, come as lube, degradation/humiliation, gape, anal creampie, vaginal creampie, double vaginal, Dom/sub dynamics, analingus, anal fingering, praise, overstimulation, MM interactions, mating press, ??lmk

AN: please these are two of my favorites to play off of hell yeah say less babe

🔶 Porco makes Reiner use his big muscles to fuck you standing, legs over Reiner's hips while he focuses on your ass. "Hold her, doofus." Goes to town eating your ass, playing with your hole, stretching you. Calls Reiner some humiliating choice phrases and teases him that he better not come yet because he doesn't wanna be licking that up right now… but actually does it because it makes Reiner burst. Porco secretly-not-so-secretly wants it, pulls the escaping come back like "huh whatever if I gotta"... But will even gather it in his mouth to spit on your ass for extra lube. "What? It's efficient?" Sure, pokko, sure. So is the first gulp you selfishly swallowed too, huh? I guess so if you're a cumslut like Porco.

🔶 Porco loves watching you lay on your tummy while he shoves your head down on Reiner's cock, making you bounce up and down while he crouches over you to get you fucking back onto his dick with either hole. He can choose to do so much at this opportunistic positioning, like pull you back by your hair, slap your ass or Reiner's tender inner thighs to see the chain reaction. Really enjoys how you tighten up when he does it. When he gets close to coming, he's torn between going to town fucking your ass and blowing deep or making Reiner spread your cheeks and busting all over your wrecked gape.

🔶 Reiner is the sweet to Porco's salty. Lavishing you in praise just the right flavors, complimenting your work ethic at taking them both, how sweet you are letting him stuff his load in your cunt. Likes making Porco do all the work in double vaginal so he can overstim and just keep coming and coming while that pop-can pokko cock slides over his tool and stretches your cunt repeatedly. Especially in holding your back to his chest, legs up while Porco ruts you like a cuntdrunk bunny in a mating press.

Taglist: @alex--nya @animediplomat @antoxsmith @armoredpotato @bakidose @bakunny @beffjurky @blondboyfiend @casuallyck @chaotic-nick @dearbaji @dilferwinsmith @erwinsbaby @eyesucket @fairypiku @fandomficsobsession @i1k @icecreamranwich @interfectio-mortales @kireirengoku-main @koulakoukoula2003 @lavenderdaisyhoney @lailamedea @mybadluckshouldmakemefamous @nathalunalune @peachysunrize @pockcock @sweetforlevi @sasha-geyo @seychellse @shigarakiapologist @sinnerofthewalls @sparklekitteh @stigandr-the-cat @syrma-sensei @reiners-milkbiddies @tiffanyy-21 @theinariakuma @tohailalegacy @tonaken @torapologist @we-are-so-close @witchycamisado

[yoichichi]

Their Favorite Place to Kiss You

warning(s): none

a/n: I just feel like they needed something sweet damnit :( i love them that’s all - my inbox is always open :)

characters: mikasa, armin, levi, hange, eren, connie, sasha, jean, zeke, & reiner

Mikasa

Your eyelids

Mikasa has always been on the more soft spoken side when it comes to intimacy, sometimes she finds it’s even hard to reach out and hold your hand. She often opts for brushing her knuckles against yours and just hopes you get the gist. But when you’re asleep it’s different. She gets to reach out and run her fingertips delicately across your face and it gives her the perfect opportunity to lean in and press feather light kisses to your closed eyes, and she always hopes her love is strong enough that her affection communicates into your dreams. Please give this shy angel all the love :,(((

Armin

Your cheek

It’s just the purest way for him to show you he’s listening and cares really :(! You’ll be on a date and he’s holding your hand and he’ll just lean on over and place a little smooch there while he’s got this little smile going on, before he tells you to continue with your story, “I’m listening sweetie.” It was also the way he hyped himself up to be more physical with you as the relationship progressed. Baby boy was a little nervous for your first kiss so he worked himself up to it by acting all sly and leaving the gentlest of gentlest kisses on your soft skin. He also loves kissing any birth marks or freckles you may have on your face, they just draw his attention so much and he finds them so cute he has to leave some sort of appreciation for them. And now, kissing your cheek/face has just become his favorite place to leave hellos and goodbyes. It’s even better when he can feel your cheeks get plump from the way you smile when he leaves a kiss.

Levi

Your hands

He has a nasty habit of overworking himself and pushing his body to the limits physically. Staying up late and depriving himself of sleep, hunching over a desk and straining his eyes from all the reading and work, getting frequent headaches from how strong his focus has been - usually meaning he’s forgotten to drink enough water that day. It all takes toll in his tired eyes and the sore muscles in his body, the ones most tense in his upper back. The only good that comes from this is how easy it makes it to strip him away from work if need be. Just running your hands up his back to knead at the muscle between his shoulders and neck has him sighing and closing his eyes, reaching a hand up to grab onto one of yours and place thankful kisses along your knuckles. Now you’ve successfully convinced him to lay in bed while you softly run your hands over his face and body, only stopping when he grabs them to place more kisses. He hopes it’s good enough at showing you how grateful he is for you in his life <3

Hange

Your forehead

They call you their little stroke of genius always and this just kind of seals the deal for them teehee. Whenever they get any kind of idea - good, bad, small, big, dangerous, you name it - they’re placing a kiss on your forehead and hollering before they run off to execute said idea. You have an idea and they’re praising you on how smart you are while they kiss you repeatedly there, kind of like they’re your older, invasive relative or something. It’s also their favorite way to greet you whether it’s them coming home or waking you up first thing in the morning. It’s just always the perfect blank space for them to lay their love on you and get your attention. And if you have a big forehead they’ll mention how it gives them more space to love up on hehehehehe <3

Eren

Your neck

Cuddly boy, cuddly boy! He loves bothering you and trying to get your attention, and he finds it’s the easiest when he has his face buried in your neck and leaving wet kisses there. He also finds it’s such a versatile place for affection. If he’s feeling clingy, he can come up from behind and wrap his arms around you while he whines into the crook of your neck demanding you pay attention to him by kissing or blowing raspberries there until you’re giggling and giving in. When he’s sleepy and cuddling he can stretch his face up to whisper into your neck about heading to bed and finalizing his wish with a soft peck - barely even a kiss. If he’s in a mood it’s certainly an easy place to convince you to join him. And if he’s just feeling soft - which is almost always - he has no problem in smiling into that spot between your neck and shoulder and giving little love bites or any form of attention there. He’s just a clingy boy and it’s the easiest way to get what he wants - and hide how red his face can get from you.

Connie

The top of your head

It’s a funny thing he’s started doing in passing moments that’s just made his days so much brighter. You two will be bustling about in the kitchen cooking dinner and when you pass by him he just has to grab the sides of your face and reach over to kiss the top of your head with an obnoxious mwah to top it off. Or if he’s dropping you off he obviously has to reach over the middle console to pull your head aggressively towards him to leave another silly kiss - he likes it even more when you act “annoyed” with him over it. But it isn’t always silly, he finds it a really good way to let you know he hasn’t forgotten about how sweet you are to him. You’ll be laying in his chest while you two watch a movie and he’ll lean down to leave a long and quiet kiss into your hair, reminding you of his fondness.

Sasha

Your lips

It’s such a simple but sweet place to kiss! Nothing makes her happier than leaning in and giving a quick peck before she’s off to her busy day, her nose usually bumping into yours cause she’s being a little too quick about it, but it never fails to make you all giddy when you feel her smile against your lips. It’s also her favorite time to kiss you after you’ve had something sweet. First she just wiped the corner of your mouth with her thumb to collect the sticky syrup that collected there from your breakfast a few minutes prior, sucking the sweetness from the finger and humming to herself. Next it was replaced with a simple kiss to the corner of your mouth or wherever you had yet to clean up a crumb - sometimes her tongue would innocently dart out to get a better taste. Finally it became just a regular sweet kiss, even happier than before, when she could still taste the honey in your mouth from the biscuits you’d made for lunch.

Jean

Your shoulders

He adores running his hands up and down your arms and it just goes so well with leaving a few light kisses at the top of your shoulders. He also feels like it’s such an intimate part of the body in that for him to place a kiss there means he’s physically close to you in a way he treasures immensely. Like when he embraces you in a long, warm hug for whatever reason, getting to bend down and leave a long sensual kiss placed there feels so serious to him, even if you’re ticklish and it has you giggling. There’s just something so serene for him when he’s able to feel that calm and close with you that he always finds himself compelled to lean over and even crane his neck to remind you how special you are to him with a shoulder kiss. What can I say, he just loves em!

Zeke

Your thighs

It seems like he’s ALWAYS passed out with his head in your lap. He says it’s not his fault but yours because you’re the one who always lets him rest his head there when he’s home from work, running your fingers through his hair. How is he supposed to stay awake when you’re doing that? And don’t get him started on how you run your thumb over his brow bone and down the bridge of his nose before going back up and starting again. It’s like you want him to take a nap on your thighs! Which you kinda do cause it’s the only time you get to see this mf relaxed and quiet in your presence if he’s not reading or doing some other nerd shit. He always makes sure to press sweet kisses to the tops of them when he wakes up, along with chuckling and tickling you with his scruff. He also likes to give you massages when you’re laying in bed which always somehow leads to him rubbing your calf’s while he closes his eyes and gently kisses the soft skin on your inner thighs. He’s just a sucker for em and you can’t tell me otherwise!

Reiner

Your back

Oh this guy :( He’s a chronic big spoon, no matter your size. It’s just always so soothing for you to be in his arms with his hands resting at your tummy, sometimes absentmindedly kneading the soft skin there as he falls asleep. But he never stays that way, he ends up naturally scooting down throughout the night so when he wakes up his face is nuzzled into the middle of your back with his arms wrapped even tighter around your midsection. You can always tell when he wakes up by the soft flutter of his eyelashes against your skin and the tightening squeeze on your torso, followed by soft open mouth kisses up your spine and all over your shoulder blades. Of course the way he whispers, “hi”, into your ear once he’s reached the top let’s you know, too.

this made me so unbelievably soft omfg. I just felt like we needed some soft content and I’ve been missing them :((( if you guys like this and would want it I can make a pt.2 with some characters I didnt include in this one :)! Jus lemme know if it’s something you guys would want! Anyways I hope you enjoy, I love talking to you in my inbox, and if you’d like to be on a taglist jus lemme know and I’ll happily oblige :)

requests are open

-🐇out

taglist: @plutowrites @armins-futon @peachysimp @sofi-yeager

[unfoundhoney]

mother, father, and everything else ↠

↠ platonic!c!tommyinnit x older sister!reader ; fluff , angst

↠ masterlist

↠ a companion piece to a sister’s sacrifice inspired by this tiktok

“Tommy, come on,” you call.

You pull your youngest brother’s attention away from the strings of the apron he got distracted by. He toddles over to you as quickly as he can, reaching up and asking to be picked up silently. He started walking early and go the hang of it quite quickly. However, in talking he’s a bit of a late bloomer, nearing fifteen months but yet to say his first words.

You lift Tommy up into your arms, carrying him out the back door and into the backyard. You set him down to play in the grass where you can keep an eye on him then walk over to the array of clotheslines strung up across the yard, beginning to hang up laundry.

Wilbur is off playing with Niki as usual. He’ll likely return covered in dirt and grass stains, maybe with a captured insect or stories of a new, made up kingdom he’d been ruler of that day. Phil is still out with Techno; they’ve been gone for a while now, but that’s nothing new.

You’ve hung up a pair of Wilbur’s pants and two of Tommy’s shirts when you notice Tommy crouched beside the basket full of wet clothes. He reaches inside and pulls out a sock, squeezing it curiously.

“Do you want to help, Tommy?”

Tommy looks up at you, blue eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He nods his head once.

You giggle and ruffle his hair, “Alright, c’mere.”

You lift Tommy up again, resting him on your hip as you grab a clothespin with your free hand. You slip it over the clothesline.

“Put the top of the sock in the pin,” you tell him.

He struggles a bit, little hands still uncoordinated at his young age. He does eventually position the sock where you can close the pin on it and leave it to hang.

“Wow, good job, buddy!” you say.

You wrap him in a hug and spin around, shrieking laughter falling from his mouth at both your actions and your praise. You set him down and kneel down to be at eye level with him.

“You’re my official laundry assistant,” you say seriously. “Can you hand me clothes to hang up?”

Tommy nods eagerly and toddles over to the basket of wet clothes, grabbing a shirt from the top of the pile. He holds it above his head as he runs back over to you, holding it out.

“Good job, Tommy! We’re quite the team, you and I.”

Together, you and Tommy slowly hang the rest of the clothes up. Tommy eventually gets bored and goes off to pick dandelions and pull off their petals, leaving you to finish the chore, not that you mind. When you’re finished, you call Tommy over to get in the basket, carrying him and the leftover clothespin back inside.

“Y/N!”

The call of your name pulls you to a stop, turning to see who yelled for you. Tommy grabs onto your pant leg for balance, stopping as well. You find Puffy waving at you, hurrying over to you with her little boy Dream at her side.

“Hi, Puffy,” you say. “Hi, Dream.”

“Hi,” Dream says in a small voice.

“Tommy, can you say hi?” you ask the young boy clinging to your hand.

He’s chewing on his thumbnail, looking up at Puffy warily before hiding his face in your leg.

“Guess not,” you laugh.

“How are you, Y/N? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Puffy says.

“I’m good,” you answer. “Just getting some dinner for tonight.”

“Still the household cook, I see.”

“And just about everything else.”

You laugh and Puffy joins you, but you can tell that wasn’t a joke that went over her head. It’s no joke that you are mother and father to your younger siblings, as well as everything else. Your dad is gone too often; Wilbur doesn’t even call your father “dad,” he calls him Phil.

“Where’s your dad?” Puffy asks.

You shrug, “Around.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

You hesitate for too long, distracted as you attempt to remember the last time Phil came home.

“That hardly matters,” you brush off, “He’s busy doing important stuff and I can look after Wilbur and Tommy myself anyway.”

The look of concern on Puffy’s face is not missed by you. You do, however, elect to ignore it.

Dream tugs on Puffy’s sleeve, “Mom.”

“Yeah, buddy?” Puffy asks, leaning down.

Dream points into the market, where you see Sapnap with his father and his friend George.

“Go say hi, but don’t wander too far,” Puffy tells Dream.

When she turns back to you, keeping one eye on her son, you say, “I’ve gotta head home. Need to make dinner and all that.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puffy says. “I’m here if you ever need help. Or someone to talk to. Or... anything really.”

“Thanks, Puffy.”

You don’t notice at your side, Tommy trying to form the word that Dream used that so quickly got his mother’s attention.

“Look after yourself, Y/N.”

“I am.” You always have.

With a wave, you turn and head back home, Tommy walking slowly beside you. The walk from the market to your house takes about fifteen minutes and you end up carrying Tommy for most of it to speed things up.

When you arrive home, you find Wilbur and Niki sat in the front yard playing a hand clapping game. They stop when they spot you, jumping up and running to come meet you as you walk up the front path.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Wilbur shouts your names repeatedly.

“Will! Will! Will!” you mimic.

“Can I spend the night at Niki’s?” Wilbur asks.

You like Niki. She’s sweet and a good influence for Wilbur.

“Uhm, as long as her parents are alright with it,” you say, doing your best to sound like a grown up despite only being sixteen.

“We’ve already talked to them,” Niki tells you.

“Alright, then,” you concede. “Behave while you’re there.”

“I will, Y/N!” Wilbur says, running off with Niki.

You watch them go for a few moments until you’re reminded of the toddler sitting on your hip. Tommy squirms around, wanting down. You set him on the ground and walk with him inside.

You set him up with some paper and crayons at the kitchen table. You sit across from him, watching as he carefully looks over his color options before choosing the red crayon.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, bud,” you muse.

You pet Tommy’s hair before you stand, moving to start on dinner. You season meat and chop potatoes, humming to yourself and keeping an eye on Tommy. Thankfully, your youngest brother isn’t a picky eater, which makes meals a lot easier than they could be, especially since he’s been in the solid foods stage for a while now.

The rest of the night is fairly quiet. You and Tommy eat dinner then you do the dishes while he waddles around the living room and plays with some of his toys. You can hear him experimenting with running, his footfalls surprisingly loud for such a small human. You hear him fall, as well, but without any crying then the return of his heavy footsteps, you don’t go to check on him.

You start composing your next shopping list and check the calendar for any upcoming events. There’s a festival next week that you’re meant to chaperone Wilbur and his friends at. Maybe you can team up with Puffy so Tommy can play with Tubbo, and Dream can join Wilbur. You’ll ask her tomorrow.

You hear Tommy enter the kitchen. He waddles over to where you sit at the table and crawls into your lap. He grabs your free hand and starts playing with your fingers as you continue writing down what you’ll need for your bigger grocery run in a few days.

“Mom.”

You freeze.

What?

“Mom.”

You look down at Tommy.

He looks up at you, “Mom.”

“N-No...,” you say weakly.

“Mom.”

“No, I’m not your mom.”

“Mom.”

“No...”

“Mom!” Tommy says happily. “Mom mom mom!”

“Okay, okay,” you say shakily, putting a hand gently over your little brother’s mouth to get him to stop. “Okay, good job.”

Your vision’s blurry. You want to cry. Your chest hurts. But right now, Tommy’s said his first word.

“Good job,” you repeat.

You pull Tommy into a hug and wipe at your eyes behind his back.

Tommy rests his little cheek on your shoulder, already tired but quickly drifting off to sleep in your warm embrace, “Mom...”

“Shhh,” you say, voice weak.

Tommy goes limp, asleep in your arms. As your tears begin to fall, you make sure not to let your sobs move you. How has this happened? Mom. No. You’re not a mother. Except you are. In every way that matters, you are Tommy’s mother. You’ve raised him ever since Phil brought him home that day.

You wish your family was normal. As normal as a family of four adopted children, a single father, and a non-biological uncle could be. You wish your dad was home more. You wish you didn’t have to be the only parental figure Tommy has ever known. It’s to the point he calls you mom. How could Phil let it get to this? How could he care so little?

You just want to have a normal family with parents who are adults and kids who are allowed to be children. You did not get to be a child, but Wilbur and Tommy will. You will always be there for them. You promise. You will give them what you had taken from you. Hatred for your father burns in your chest but it’s quickly snuffed out, doused by nostalgia that longs for a childhood you never had.

[xiaoderys]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 (𝐥.𝐣𝐧)

pairing: Football Captain!Jeno x Mean Girl/Cheer Captain!Reader

warnings: smut, going into subspace, creampie, overstimulation, praise kink, cum swallowing, overuse of the word ‘baby’

word count: 2.8K

requested: yes

Everybody knows who you are— student body president, homecoming queen, cheerleading captain; you were the school’s it girl and you had everybody wrapped around your tiny little fingers with just a single look in your eye, but while you had everyone falling on their knees for you, Lee Jeno was not having any of your bullshit. Instead, he went out of his way to avoid you and since Jeno was the school’s hotshot, it came as a surprise to everyone that the infamous Mr. Golden Boy and the school’s most precious darling sweetheart hated each other’s guts.

But what people didn’t know was that behind all this facade you and Jeno both put up for the whole school, you were just a sucker for each other’s touch.

You swore to yourself that you would never even dare lay eyes on anyone from the football team, after everything you’ve experienced from Jeno, you just grew an overbearing hatred towards football players in general and much to your cheer squad’s dismay, your rule applied to them as well. Call it being too harsh but you’re the captain and what you say goes so you would always tell your girls: “Guys on the football team are off-limits. You think it’s cute for cheerleaders and football players to date? Then you’d be glad to know that you’re not the first girl they’ve fucked in the locker rooms.. and definitely not the last. If I find any one of you getting too close with one of those assholes, don’t even fucking dare show your face here ever again.” 

But you’re a hypocrite.

After one too many shots of some cheap alcohol and two horny teenagers at the homecoming games after party, you could only imagine what happened next.

Hands around your waist, body on top of his, tongues fighting for dominance; he tasted like beer and regret. You could’ve stopped it, you could’ve ran away, you could’ve told him no before he was shoving his tongue down your throat and fucking you senselessly on his roommates bed.. you could’ve done so many things to stop all of this before it even started but you didn’t. Because Lee Jeno is a drug and unfortunately for you, you just found your new addiction.

After that night, it became a habit, a ritual for the both of you. After every game or practice, you would meet up in the East building locker room and he would rail you until you were too sore to go to cheer practices the next day. Not your proudest moments but it’s just as if there wasn’t enough air in the room to fill your lungs whenever you were with him.

Now, it’s 4pm and you’re kneeled on the floor in between Jeno’s thighs as he guided your head up and down his thick length. You swirled your tongue around the slit, licking all the way from the base to the tip which resulted in unholy words and gutteral moans to leave his mouth. All the praises and lewd sounds escaping his lips were going straight to your core and you were so painfully aroused by now. You wanted to reach one hand down to relieve yourself while getting Jeno off but you know that’s just gonna cost you a mind blowing orgasm from him so you chose not to.

“Fuck, baby, just like that- shit!” head thrown back, fingers laced in your hair, sweat coating his well-defined abs; seeing him like this really makes you forget about all your built up frustrations towards him “Please keep going” his breathy whines sounded so angelic yet sinful at the same time.

He pulls your head up by your hair forcing you to make eye contact with him, lips still wrapped around his swollen cock “God you’re so pretty like this” he smiles “It’s almost as if you were made just for it” his features softened, admiring the sight before him, his adorable baby on her knees, teary-eyed, mascara running down her flushed cheeks, and mouth full of cock, Jeno swore the view alone could make him come right then and there but he had more plans for you.

“That feels so good, baby, keep doing that, fuck!” he groans, encouraging you to take his whole length until it hit the back of your throat. Jeno met each bob of your head with a thrust which had you gagging around him and that only added to his pleasure.

The sight of your swollen red lips wrapped around his thick cock so perfectly was enough to make him go feral so it wasn’t long before Jeno was bucking his hips up into you “Shit, I’m gonna come” he tightened his grip on your hair forcing you to go down on him faster and after a few more pumps, he was climaxing and you being the good girl that you are, swallowed everything he could give you, feeling the thick, hot liquid running down your throat. You licked up and down his length to collect all the cum that you didn’t catch, not letting a single drop go to waste then you stuck your tongue out to show him that you’ve swallowed it all. “Fuck that’s so hot” he growled.

You continued to suck his tip, trying to get as much out of him as possible but he removed you from his cock, pulling you up to straddle his lap “Come here, baby” he smashed your lips together and he could taste himself on you. He thought he actually tasted kinda nice

“You want my dick inside you, pretty girl?” he mumbles against you breathlessly and you try to nod, replying with a tiny ‘yes, please’ and he hovers you above his throbbing dick, spitting on his fingers and bringing them to your pussy so he can prep you because he knows your little cunt needs all the prepping it can get to take his fat cock. “You’re this wet just from sucking dick?”

“Just. Want. You. Inside. Please!” he chuckles at your neediness, fascinated by how he could have the school’s infamous snobby it girl drooling over his cock and all he had to do was whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

“You’re on the pill, right?” you nod at him and he bunched your skirt up to your waist, aligning himself with your heat as he slowly sunk you down on his length. 

No matter how wet you were or how many times Jeno fucked you, you still couldn’t seem to get used to his size, squirming as soon as he entered you. Small whimpers were falling from his lips due to oversensitivity and you could’ve sworn they were the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard in your life.

“S-so big! Feels so good!” Jeno’s a simple guy, feed his ego, tell him how big he is and how good he makes you feel and he’ll give you a good fuck.

He knew your body so well and found your sweet spot right away which had you almost screaming at the top of your lungs, thank god this area was secluded or else, anyone walking by outside would definitely know what the both of you were up to “Right there! ahghh please!” you squealed and he held your waist, thrusting up to meet your heat “Right here?” he asks, giving a particularly hard thrust, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Yes! oh my god!” you threw your head back in daze, leaving Jeno more room to mark his baby’s pretty neck. He sucked purple marks on your skin that would definitely be a pain in the ass to cover up tomorrow but that was the least of your problems right now.

“Please go faster!” you needily whine and to be honest, who was he to decline your request? He tightened his grip on your waist and guided you faster up and down his length.

“Fuck! Come here” he pulled your face closer to him and once again put your lips together. He could tell you were close by the way you were clenching around him and as usual, he was right “G-gonna come, Jen, can I please come?!” you plead against him and you could feel his lips form a smirk “Of course, you can, baby. Come for me” that’s all it took for you to moan uncontrollably and release all your juices around Jeno’s cock.

But you noticed that his movements weren’t getting any slower, in fact, they were getting faster and faster and faster.

You laced your fingers in his hair, gripping them tightly “W-what are you doing?” you whimper “I’m fucking you, baby, what does it look like I’m doing?” he growls “B-but I already came!” you squealed and he pushed your body to lay you down on the bench, hooking your legs around his waist as he hovers above you, face inches away from yours “You don’t mind doing it a few more times for me, right baby?” he stills for a second, waiting for assurance. His features softened and holy fuck, you swore you couldn’t breathe. You shook your head with wide eyes leaving him with a grin “That’s a good pup” he kissed the tip of your nose before he continued to relentlessly pound into you.

His tip repeatedly brushed against your sweet spot, leaving you gasping for air and clinging onto his body like your life depended on it “Jeno..“ you sob, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge again.

“Fuck! How are you this pretty?” He brought one of his hands to your face, removing all the strands of hair covering it. Seeing you like this, drove him insane and all he could do was chuckle at your wrecked state “Look at you, all desperate and whiny under me. I wonder how your little cheer squad would react if they find out that their snobby little captain who talks big game about hating football players is just a little whore for me?” you couldn’t even reply to tell him otherwise because you both knew he was right, he was always fucking right and you hated it.

You could feel your next orgasm approaching, you try to warn him yet nothing but incoherent words and cries of his name fell from your mouth “J-jeno plea-hmnngg!” He watched you intently, brows furrowed, mouth agape and tears falling on the sides of your face “What is it, baby? Use your words and tell me what you want” he taunts “I’m so close!” you gripped the back of his head and pulled him closer “Don’t hold back, doll. Show me how good I make you feel.” You felt your walls tighten around him once again and you were cumming for the second time.

You thought he would stop there but it still wasn’t enough for Jeno. He loved seeing your flustered face; your whines and pants were like music to his ears, it would be a shame if he stopped now.

The sweat forming on his forehead was dripping down onto you, his thrusts weren’t letting up and you couldn’t think straight. Your mind was all fuzzy and all you could think about was Jeno.

He had you writhing underneath him, cock still deep inside your sensitive pussy, pounding into you mercilessly even after having come two times already.

Your whole body was shaking, you could only take so much. You let out cries and whines yet it only seemed to inflate Jeno’s ego and drive him to go faster and harder. “J-Jeno! I can’t take it anymore!” you thrashed under him but his big, strong arms held you in place “Yes you can, baby, just one more” He knew your body better than anyone else, he knows when you’ve had enough and he knows you can take more-- he knows you want more. “Just one more, okay?”

He continued to plunge his cock deeper and deeper until you were nothing but a whiny, sobbing mess. The overwhelming pleasure filled your senses. You held onto him tighter as soon as you felt another high approaching. Your mind was all over the place and you felt like you were gonna black out. You dug your nails into his biceps and they were sure to leave marks. “Too much, too much, too much!” you chant like a mantra “Just a little more, baby” he tries to reassure you but you were feeling dizzy at this point and his words almost stopped making sense.

You could feel every vein on his cock grazing your walls so deliciously. Every praise and groans that fell from his lips were the only things you could comprehend. “You’re doing so well, baby.. almost there” Your eyes were now rolling to the back of your head, your body stopped shaking and you were in a state of pure bliss, you felt dizzy and your vision was slowly fading to black “J-jeno…” you mumble “Yes, baby, you’re doing so so good, stay with me, just a little more” All you could think about was Jeno and the overwhelming pleasure from his cock rubbing against your tight walls and right at that exact moment, it felt like nothing in the world mattered but the both of you.

You felt spurts of cum being released inside you and you so almost passed out “Fuck, baby. you feel so good” he was panting and kept thrusting sloppily into you “That felt so damn good, baby” as he was coming down from his high, he noticed that you weren’t responding so he cupped your cheeks “Good job, baby, you took me so well” you were still deep into subspace and Jeno tried to be gentle with you as much as he could “You’re okay, baby. I’m here. Just breathe, okay?” He tucked the messy strands of hair covering your face and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

He pulls out ever so slowly, trying his best not to hurt you. He watched his cum drip out of your cunt and he swore he almost came for the third time “God look at that, my cum’s dripping from your tiny pussy. One of these days, I’m gonna have to buy you a plug so you can keep everything I give you inside” he slowly collected both of your juices mixed together on his fingers and hovered it in front of your lips “Open up, baby” you still couldn’t understand anything and it took you a while to register what was happening but as soon as you did, you opened up your mouth and started sucking on his fingers “Does it taste good?” you nod frantically and kept mumbling incoherent words which made Jeno coo at you.

He took his fingers away from your mouth and you whined “m-more please! more!” Jeno chuckled at how needy you were but he didn’t want to push you way beyond your limits ”You’ve already done enough, baby. You can calm down now, okay? just breathe” a few minutes pass by of Jeno trying to bring you back into reality and you finally calmed down.

He pampered you with kisses and praises, making sure you were okay after coming down from your state of pure ecstasy. “You did so well, baby, I’m so proud of you” he smiles sweetly as he wipes your mascara stained cheeks with his thumb “Thank you, Jen” you murmur, trying not to look him in the eye. “What’s wrong?” he asks, turning your head to face him “Nothing” Jeno could tell something was bothering you but he just shrugs it off because he knows your relationship was strictly physical and you would never open up to him anyway.

“Okay, well, I need to get going now,” he gets off of you “I still need to help Jaemin prepare for the party tonight” you tried to stand up but your legs felt like jelly so you stumbled a little but thankfully, Jeno was there to catch you “Woah, careful there. Do you need help getting home?” Yes, you do, but you weren’t gonna tell him that “No, I’ll be fine” you shook your head with a small smile.

“You’re still coming later, right?” you fixed your clothes and tried to collect your thoughts and you shot him a confused look “Hmm?” he chuckled, clearly your mind was still in shambles from earlier “the party tonight” your body still felt sore but you just couldn’t say no “Oh yeah, of course, how could I miss it?” He smiled at you, throwing his shirt back on “Good, you know where my room is, I’ll see you again at 7?”

You watched as he tried to tidy himself up and collect his belongings, thoughts running around your head, wanting to tell him so badly to stay and just talk for a while, to sort things out between the two of you because god knows you could only contain your emotions for so long, but instead, you just nod at him and smile “I’ll see you at 7” he returns your smile and walks out, leaving you there to mentally curse yourself for not having the courage to tell him how you feel but this is what you signed up for. You made your bed and now you have to lay on it.

[etherrreal]

“when you pass out at practice”

Pairing: tsukishima x reader ; kyotani x reader ; aone x reader Genre: comfort-fluff ; drabbles & headcanons Summary: the reader hasn’t been taking care of herself which leads to her passing out at practice  Word Count: 2295 Warnings: fainting, or passing out, from sleep deprivation/not eating/heat exhaustion, some explicit language because i’m an adult A/N: thanks for the fun request! i took a little bit of artistic liberties with the scenario to keep it from being so repetitive so I hope you don’t mind! -Luna

it was rare that you had a beautiful sunny day on a weekend with no chores to attend to or work to complete

so when your boyfriend Tsukishima texted you and asked you to come join him for casual volleyball practice outside, you decided to take him up on that opportunity

however, not even a cap and some cold water could stave off heat exhaustion

Despite it being 95°F and so humid that the air feels thick when you breathe, it is a beautiful day outside. The sky is completely clear of clouds; the sun is shining directly on you as you, your boyfriend, and Yamaguchi head out to practice at the open field nearby Karasuno. The change of scenery was refreshing and even with it feeling just as hot as it usually does inside the school gym, the occasional breeze and lack of sweaty stench was a huge welcomed change. 

There’s very little shade provided by the trees, but you lay out a small blanket under the nearest one anyway. You become the bag and bottle keeper when Tsukishima and Yamaguchi hand you their items, your boyfriend dropping it haphazardly onto the blanket while Yamaguchi delicately places it down with a ‘thank you.’ 

You usually don’t get to see Tsukishima practice, seeing as his normal practices run until the dead of night, so it was fun watching them set and serve the ball back and forth. When the occasional ball lands by your feet, you get the chance to enjoy setting it back to them, even if it often falls short or misses the target completely. 

“Thank god you’re not on our team,” Tsukishima teases, as he watches the ball you set fall 6 feet away from him.

“Yeah, because I’d kick your ass. I know I’m a threat, and you should fear me,” you retort sarcastically. Before he turns away to retrieve the ball, you see him crack a small smile at your tomfoolery. 

However, after a few hours of getting up and down repeatedly to send the balls back under the beating sun, your head starts to pound. Your body is radiating so much heat it makes you want to remove your skin. You know it’s just a matter of time before you start feeling physically ill, as well. You loosen your cap and drink some cold water in hopes that it will relieve some of the tension, but you just feel the same.

You decide to lay down on the blanket, cap laid over your face to block out the sun. You don’t know if you passed out or if you simply tuned out everything around you for a bit, but you jump when you suddenly feel something wet and cold touching your neck.

You reach up to swat it away, thinking it was a bug when you hear Tsukishima’s voice. “Stop that. I’m trying to help you, dummy.” 

Relief washed over you to know that it wasn’t a beetle crawling up your neck but instead your stoic boyfriend pressing his plastic water bottle there to cool you down.

“Yamaguchi thought you died,” he brought up suddenly. “He actually ran to the store to get some more water after I told him to stop overreacting.”

You chuckle, picturing Yamaguchi already mourning over your body just because you were lying down with a cap over your face. “It’s sweet that he cares though, in his own weird way.”

Suddenly, the sky and Tsukishima’s crouching figure are in full view as he flicks the hat off of your face, feeling annoyed that you praised his friend and not him. “What do you think I’m doing, huh?” 

“Aww, do you want me to tell you how you’re the bestest, sweetest, most handsome boyfriend I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, and that I’m so grateful that you’ve graced me with your help?” you whine in a sarcastic tone, making grabby hands at the tall blond hovering over you.

He slaps your hands away, knowing that if you get your hands on him, you’d squeeze his cheeks and ruffle his hair like you always do. “Well, that’s the last time I ever take care of you.” 

You know he doesn’t mean it and that, if you were ever in some form of peril, he would casually stroll rush to your rescue to make sure you’re okay. You hope that when you look up at him he can see how much you appreciate his efforts.

“Thank you, Kei,” you say sincerely.

“Yeah, whatever.” He sounds dismissive, but you can tell by the scrunched eyebrows and soft look in his eyes as he gazes down at you how much he worries about your well-being, and you’re genuinely grateful to have him be your unofficial nurse. 

you heard from some classmates that your math teacher was seen printing out math quizzes

*cue studious panic*

 you decided to completely skip lunch and use that time in the library to hit the books hard

your stomach was rumbling, your head was hurting, and your vision would become spotty if you stood up too quickly

you completed your quiz at the end of the day, but by then, you were starving and ready to get something to eat

in your panic, you forgot that you were supposed to meet kyotani after school so you could force him to go to practice that day (or else Iwaizumi would have your ass)

he heard your stomach make monstrous noises and when you let him know you hadn’t eaten, he looked more upset than usual to see you not taking care of yourself

“Let’s skip practice and get some food,” he suggests.

“What? So you can skip out on one of the few practices you go to? Absolutely not!” you reprimand.

“But you need to eat.”

“Look at you being a sweet boyfriend who cares,” you tease, watching him roll his eyes like he’s annoyed, but the pink hue dusting his cheeks says otherwise. “I’ll be fine. I should have an extra granola bar in my bag somewhere.” 

"Whatever, if you say so." He turns his body diagonally, a gesture you know means 'walk with me.' Kyotani has never been keen on PDA, but one thing you have noticed is that he prefers for you to walk directly by his side at all times. To others, it may look like he’s uninterested in you, but you can tell by how often his arm brushes yours that it’s his way of showing affection. 

You stroll across campus together, enjoying a quiet conversation with Kyotani about your day thus far. It doesn’t take long for you to reach the gym entrance, already hearing the balls slamming against the ground inside. You both switch out your shoes before walking in, him going to join his teammates and you finding a seat on the sidelines, seeing Iwaizumi give you a thumbs up for your job well done. 

You take a moment to search through your bag for that granola bar you mentioned earlier. After sifting through books, loose notes, and forgotten pencils and pens, you realize you have no snack to tide you over until the end of practice. 

The market is just down the road. I could probably go pick something up and be back quickly.

You wave Iwaizumi over, figuring you’ll tell him your plans while Kyotani is distracted so he won’t follow you out. You see his back turned to you as Oikawa speaks to the rest of the team, gesturing wildly with a volleyball in hand. 

As Iwaizumi gets closer, you stand up and immediately begin to sway. Your vision grows spotted, and your head feels like it’s floating. 

You hear Kyotani yell out your name before everything goes black.

When you wake up, the lights are beaming overhead as you lay in some sort of bed. Once you’re coherent enough, you sit up, looking around to see that you’re in the school nurse’s office. You pick up your hand to hold your still aching head when you notice a very angry Kyotani attached to it, already glaring at you.

Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, not quite knowing what to say after you just passed out in the middle of practice.

"I told you that we should've gotten something to eat," he starts, growling out each word.

You shrink into yourself, feeling embarrassed that you've upset him and couldn’t even take care of yourself properly. "I'm sorry, Kentaro.”

He notices you plucking the lint off your shirt to avoid direct eye contact with him. His eyes close as he collects himself, realizing that now’s not the time to lecture you for something you couldn’t have predicted.

He sighs, standing up slightly to lean over your slumped figure, laying a kiss on your temple. He mumbles a quiet apology against your skin, feeling bad for snapping at you when he should’ve been more kind. He’s working on that, slowly but surely.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” he says, holding your hand while you stand slowly from the bed. You wobble slightly, Kyotani quickly wrapping his arm around your waist to stabilize you. You give him a nod when you’re firmly on your two feet.

“From now on, if you’re hungry, tell me.”

You agreed reluctantly, not exactly wanting him to worry so much but knowing he wouldn’t let you leave without your compliance. 

From then on, he always makes sure to check on you to check if you've eaten or if you need one of the many granola bars he now carries, and while sometimes it's annoying to have him acting like a mother hen, it's also very heartwarming to know that he cares about you that much. Not to mention, he’s saved your ass many times when you have to study overtime for another intense math quiz. 

the end of the semester was coming to a close and you were scrambling to get everything done on time

there weren't enough hours in the day to study for finals, finish projects, complete homework, and also take care of your human needs, like eating and sleeping

so, you just didn't sleep one night, opting to stay up with some caffeine to power through all of your work

at the beginning of the next day, you felt energetic and peppy, but as it went on, the sluggish feeling started to settle in

by the end, you were feeling absolutely exhausted and ready to drop at any moment

however, you still wanted to accompany Aone to practice that day, as it was your favorite part of your week

aone initially insisted that you head home without him, but he realized it might be safer to go with him after practice, just in case you fell asleep on the train

It feels like it takes ages, but eventually, practice begins to wind down, soreness seeping into each and every team member’s muscles after hours on their feet. A few of them are still practicing quick attacks with each other, but Aone is one more move away from passing out from exhaustion.

He walks over to you sitting on the sidelines, watching you take longer and longer between each blink. Yet, when he gets close enough, you still manage to give him a small smile that kicks his heart into overdrive, his face, no doubt, resembling a tomato because of the gesture.

He sits on the creaky folding chair beside you, taking gulps of his water to try to cool himself down. He almost chokes when he feels your head press up against his shoulder, hand resting on his forearm gently. Sitting still as a rock, he tries to take his mind off his cute partner cuddling up next to him.

"We should stop somewhere and pick up some food on the way to the train,” he suggests, doing his best to ignore the warmth filling his cheeks. “Do you want anything specific?"

You're silent beside him. At first, he thinks you're contemplating what to eat, seeing as you're very particular with your cravings. But when two minutes pass, and there's not even a peep from you, he looks down carefully to find you knocked out against his shoulder, face squished uncomfortably and mouth parting with each deep breath you take.

Aone never pictured this happening to him –mostly because he didn't think he'd ever have a partner who'd feel comfortable enough around him– so he didn't quite know where to go from here. He could wake you up to at least bring you home, but if this is the first time you've slept in over 24 hours, he didn't want to deprive you of more necessary sleep.

The only way Aone can think of bringing you home is to carry you all the way to the train station and... Well, that's as far as he manages to get, but future Aone will figure the rest out.

He asks Futakuchi to gather his things for him because he doesn't want to risk waking you. After some light teasing, he hands Aone his packed duffle and helps put on his jacket with minimal stirring from you.

Aone thanks his friend with a nod before turning to you and slipping his arms under you, one beneath your knees and the other behind your back. He freezes when you begin shifting around, but relaxes once you settle into him.

Aone waves at his team on the way out, with what movement he is allowed, and begins his trek to the train station nearby. 

His arms are aching after hours of practice, but it doesn’t matter, because you nuzzling into his neck with an adorable sigh gives him enough strength to carry you halfway across the country if he needs to. 

Written by: Luna

[classyklancey]

PEE still, my PEEating heart

Pairing: Lance McClain x Keith Kogane

Genre: neighbors au, fluff, angst, smut

Warnings: peeping tom (Keith), joking mentions of psycho/sociopath and butchering/cutting, knives, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, (assumed) cheating, uh I think that’s it

Summary: Lance just needed to pee and now he's some douchebag's personal chef. But maybe, just maybe, said douchebag is kinda cute...

Word Count: 10,497 words (LMAO OFC THE LONGEST FIC IVE EVER WRITTEN SO FAR IS FOR THESE TWO DUMMIES)

Want to read it on AO3? Click here!

“I gotta go.” 

“Lance, no.”

“Lance, yes. Dude, I’m literally about to piss myself.” 

“Then fucking do it! At least you’re not turning your fucking insides to outsides right now!” Pidge interrupts the two from the bathroom, still glued to the toilet. 

Lance bites his lip and presses his hands on his crotch, doing his peepee dance while staring desperately at Hunk. You see, Lance had eaten one of his roommate’s leftovers a few days prior, and when he went to his parent’s house earlier in the day, his mom had been insistent that he took the flan she made him, telling him to make sure to share with his roommates and to not eat it all. Turns out she didn’t have to worry about him eating it all, since Pidge had eaten the entire thing while he was at work out of spite for eating her food. The problem now though? Pidge is lactose-intolerant, and the main ingredients to flan are sweetened condensed milk and evaporated milk. Safe to say she had been in the bathroom fighting for her life for the past hour after Lance had returned from work. 

“Well, how much longer are you gonna be in there cause I think I might explode if I don’t piss, like, right now.” Hunk sighs and rubs his eyes, most likely tired of his shenanigans for the night. 

“Dude, I already told you. Just go pee in a bottle.” Lance, just like he did earlier, makes a face. 

“No way! That’s gross!”

“It’s not any grosser than peeing in a toilet!” 

“Yes, it is!”

“How?” Hunk asks exasperated. 

“Because it’s undignified and demeaning! I am a gentleman, Hunk!”

“Then be a gentleman who uses a bottle!” 

“No!”

“Would you two stop squabbling and give me some space to shit in peace?” Pidge hollers, anger and annoyance clearly laced in her tone. The two men go quiet at that and quickly scurry away from the bathroom door, going into the living room. Lance never stops his potty dance the entire way. 

“That’s it. I’m going over to a neighbor’s and begging them for mercy!” Lance decides, already dancing to the door. 

“C’mon, Lance. Just pee in the sink! I’m pretty sure you did that when we were freshman once,” Hunk offers, following after Lance with a sigh. He almost runs into Lance though when the Cuban suddenly screeches to a halt and spins around to face Hunk. 

“How dare you? I did no such thing!” Lance cries, gaping at his supposed best friend. 

“You did! We were at that frat party that was hosted for all the newbies at uni and you got so drunk that you pissed right in the sink.” Lance squawks and removes his hands from his crotch to smack at Hunk’s arm repeatedly. 

“No, I didn’t! Stop putting lies on my good name!” 

“I’m not!” 

“You are!”

“Am not!” 

“Are too!”

“Lance, don’t go over to the neighbors. We don’t know them. What if they’re cannibals?” Hunk rushes out when Lance starts heading for the door again. 

“Then they’ll be the nicest cannibals I ever met!” Lance declares just before slamming the door shut behind him. Lance scurries down his driveway before turning left on the sidewalk, marching right up to his neighbor’s house and placing a succession of three knocks onto the oak. Lance goes back to his potty dance while he waits for them to answer. Lance leans back a bit to double-check the driveway, finding a motorcycle parked there. C’mon, someone has to be home. 

Just as he goes to knock again, the door swings open to reveal a god. Or, well, he might as well be. For one, the dude is smoking hot and for two, he’s about to let him use his bathroom. “Hallelujah,” Lance praises, grinning at his savior, “Hey, man. I-”

“No, I don’t want any boy scout cookies, nor do I want to hear about your lord and savior, nor do I need car insurance,” the man states bluntly before slamming the door in his face. Lance’s jaw drops, stunned for a moment in disbelief that this guy could be so rude. He huffs and raises his hand to pound on the door now. The door opens a few seconds later to reveal the (very) attractive, but rude, man. “Listen, I just said-”

“No, you listen! I was just trying to use your bathroom and you just so rudely-”

“Why are you trying to use my bathroom?” he interrupts, his black brows furrowed in confusion and, god, why is that so cute? 

“What?” is Lance’s immediate response from being so suddenly cut off. After a second or two of processing what was just said to him, Lance scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Uh, because I have to piss? Why the fuck else would I want to use your bathroom?” Lance sassily replies. 

The stranger scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest now, mirroring Lance, in which Lance definitely doesn’t stare at the dude’s chest through his tight, black shirt that has been chiseled by God himself. “Well why, the fuck, would I let you use my bathroom with that sort of attitude?” Keith replies, copying Lance’s use of foul language. Something tells Lance that he always talks like this though, unlike himself. Before he can reply though, he feels a sharp pain in his lower abdomen, reminding him of his crisis. 

“Ow-wow! Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Just, please, oh god man, please let me use your bathroom! I’ll do anything!” Lance cries, feeling close to actual tears. He’s never had to pee so bad before in his entire life. The handsome stranger hums and looks him up and down, completely emotionless other than the sly smirk that’s starting to creep on his face at the sight of Lance’s peepee dance. 

“Alright, fine. You owe me though,” he decides before stepping aside, letting the brunette inside his home. 

“Oh thank god. Thank you! I could kiss you right now!” Lance cheers, his mind not catching that loose-lipped moment of his since it’s too preoccupied setting off alarms in his head that he’s about to piss himself like a baby. His very sexy neighbor says nothing, but his smirk gets bigger as he shuts the door behind Lance. 

“Go down the hall. It’s the first door on the left,” Keith says as he points towards the hallway. Lance barely gets out a ‘thank you’ before he’s taking off in said direction. He whips the door shut with a little too much force before hurrying to the toilet. He lets out the loudest groan known to mankind as he drops his head back, relief filling his entire body. 

After finishing up and washing his hands, he exits the bathroom with a relaxed smile. He could take on the world right now if he wanted to, that’s how good he feels. Now that he isn’t about to wet himself, he actually lets his eyes take in his surroundings. 

There’s a well-used skateboard by the door he came in through, stickers of bands and shows he’s never heard of covering the underside of it. By the door is a small table that has keys and other miscellaneous things all over it, including an empty flower vase. Just as his eyes find a family photo in the hall he’s exiting, someone clears their throat. 

He turns his gaze to his savior, an embarrassed smile coming to his face as he rubs the back of his neck. “Hey, sorry about...well, all of that. Our house is one story and only has one bathroom. My roommate was, and probably still is, currently blowing it up, so I figured I’d come ask to use yours,” Lance explains sheepishly, avoiding the attractive man’s eyes. 

“Ah, that makes more sense, though you should’ve just gone outside, but whatever. I was just hoping you weren’t flushing drugs down my toilet.” Lance laughs at that, surprised by his neighbor’s odd train of thoughts. Then again, he’s not exactly sure how he’d react if some weirdo came knocking at his door and begging to use his bathroom. 

“I refuse to pee outside. But nah, don’t worry. All my cocaine is at home,” Lance jokes, finally turning to face him now. He’s surprised to find him with wide eyes and even taking a step back away from the Cuban. “Dude, I’m kidding! Jesus, do you have no sense of humor?” Lance laughs. He scoffs in response, his arms crossing back over his chest as they had done earlier. 

“I do have one. I can’t help it that you only tell shitty jokes,” he hisses, way too defensive for Lance not to laugh at him. 

“Listen, Mullet-”

“That’s not my name.”

“Okay, Emo Tea. What is it then?” Lance asks with a roll of his eyes, placing his hand onto his hip while waving his other hand forward to show Keith he’s waiting for him to fill in the blank. Keith seems to hesitate, eyeing Lance up and down just like he had done earlier for a moment before finally replying.��

“Emo what?”

“Just answer the question, Mullet Man.” Keith huffs at all the nicknames he’s coming up with for him.

“Keith,” he states plainly. 

“Keith,” Lance repeats back to him, trying the name out on his tongue. And though they had just met, Keith can’t help but like the way this odd stranger says his name with that accent of his. “The name’s Lance, though I go by many nicknames. Sharpshooter, The Tailor, and, of course, Lancey Lance,” Lance says confidently, offering a hand that Keith takes cautiously, rolling his eyes at the man in front of him.

“Dare I ask why they call you ‘Sharpshooter’ and ‘The Tailor’?” Keith asks with a sigh. 

“I’m glad you asked! I got the nickname Sharpshooter from my killer aim. Trust me, you want to be on my team if we go play laser tag or paintball. I’m also super good at those carnival games where you shoot water into the target to fill up the gauge or shooting bottles, cans, or whatever else. Basically, I’m a god at winning prizes,” he rambles. Keith doesn’t look even remotely impressed, doesn’t even let out a chuckle, which makes Lance deflate a little. He probably sounds like a cocky bastard. 

“Uh-huh. And ‘The Tailor’?” Lance smirks at this question, jumping right back in with his normal gusto. 

“They called me The Tailor because of how I thread the needle,” Lance replies with a wink, waiting for Keith to blush or to laugh. He gets neither. 

Instead, Keith tilts his head to the side—which makes his bangs sweep into his eyes, not that Lance noticed and wanted to tuck them away behind his ear or anything, what are you talking about—and looks at Lance like he’s grown a second head. He stays like this for a long moment before shaking his head and righting himself again. “Never mind, forget I asked,” he says with a sigh. Lance doesn’t know how to reply for a moment and then they’re standing there in silence that stretches on for a little too long. As he racks his brain for what to say, he suddenly remembers that Keith said that Lance owes him. Ah, right. 

“So, what do I owe ya? A nice massage? A friendly ear to listen to your problems? A blo-”

“Can you cook?” Keith interrupts, raising his brow at Lance. Lance is surprised by the sudden question, his face showing as much, before suddenly grinning at Keith. 

“Why, you’re looking at the best cook in Cuba!” he exaggerates, already sauntering over towards the kitchen. He hears Keith’s footsteps follow behind him, and Keith lets out a sound of doubt at Lance’s overzealous nature but doesn’t comment on it. 

“Well, I don’t have much to cook at the moment. I’ve been working a lot recently, so I haven’t really had time to go to the store,” Keith explains, sounding almost uncharacteristically sheepish all of sudden (well, in all the time that Lance has spoken to him). Lance pauses in front of the fridge to glance back over at Keith, flashing him a reassuring smile. 

“That’s okay. We can go get stuff if you want,” Lance offers, turning away from the fridge. 

“As nice as it sounds to be in your company even longer, I actually have to go to work,” Keith explains with a sigh, leaning against his counter. And, for some reason, Lance feels his face flush in embarrassment, though he definitely didn’t have any reason to be as embarrassed as he was. 

“Oh! Yeah, totally, of course! Sorry. Jeez, here I am inviting myself into your house and overstepping my welcome. Uh, I’ll just go ahead and leave now. Um, I’m the blue house to your right, by the way. I guess, uh, I’ll see you later?” Lance practically stammers out, barely getting the confirmation that he will indeed be seeing more of Keith later before he’s rushing out the door to make his exit and back to his house. 

What Lance thought was one meal has turned into several meals, sixteen meals to be exact. Keith asked if Lance could cook because his way of getting Lance to pay off his debt is by having the Cuban make dinner for him until he deems that Lance’s debt is paid off. Every time Lance comes over to cook, Keith is always by himself in the big house. He starts to wonder if maybe he just has a good enough job to where he can live like this without worry, or if maybe he has roommates that are never home. They could just be always locked up in their rooms and that’s why he’s never seen them? If that’s the case, then they’re probably just as rude and sour as Keith, and they get along splendidly. Lance had the thought that Keith might be one of those rich kids that get money from their parents, but the longer he’s gotten to know the dark-haired man, he finds that his personality instead screams ‘bad boy with mommy issues.’ 

So, after knowing each other for almost two months, the enemies are finally becoming lovers (“You’re not enemies, Lance.” “Shut up and let me dream, you gremlin.”). They haven’t really spent time together outside of making meals and hanging out a bit after, but Lance would say that he’s getting Keith to open up more about himself which is progress! Lance now also has his number, and Lance, if anything, is great at coming up with excuses to talk to Keith (‘So since you don’t like spicy food what food do you like??’ ‘Do you like sweets?? I could bake us a cake or smth’ ‘What kind of foods did you grow up eating??’).

Lance smiles to himself as he thinks about Keith while running his towel through his hair before wrapping it around his waist. He then walks out of the bathroom and to his bedroom, feeling the cool air of their house soothe his heated skin. Of course Lance’s train of thoughts ended up going to Keith while he was in the shower. He’s just thankful it didn’t go in that direction. 

Lance hums a song to himself as he walks around his room getting his clothes out for the day. Today was his one day off and he wasn’t swamped with homework, so he had quite the lazy day. He wanted to ask Keith to hang out since neither of his roommates were home, but Lance was worried that they weren’t quite there yet. 

Unbeknownst to Lance, he left his curtains open a bit, not enough for someone from the street or their yard to look in and see him, but just enough for Keith–whose window just so happened to be right across from Lance’s–to look in and see the half-naked man. Keith was sitting on his bed–which just so happened to face the window–and sharpening his knife when he glanced up to see what the movement was from the corner of his eye. This wasn’t the first time it had turned out to be Lance, but it was the first time that it had been a glistening, half-naked Lance. 

Keith was frozen in place. 

What is the proper etiquette for a situation like this? Obviously not what Keith is doing, seeing as how he’s just staring Lance down and shamelessly ogling him. Keith wasn’t close enough to see the details of Lance’s body, but he was close enough that he could see the water droplets glisten in the sunlight and see the scar stretching across the middle of Lance’s back. 

 For some reason, Keith didn’t expect Lance to casually glance in the direction of his window as he’s about to remove his towel just to find grey eyes meeting his. Keith can’t hear it, but he can tell by the way Lance’s mouth rounded and the way his chest jumps that he gasped dramatically. Lance also, of course, dramatically threw his arm out in Keith’s direction to point at him. 

Keith flushes red and quickly looks away, only now realizing just how creepy and wrong it was for him to have been watching Lance like that. The taller man practically jumps out of his skin when his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. He quickly takes it out when the vibrating affects his–uh, situation. 

He tenses up when he sees Lance’s familiar name (“Personal Chef”) take up his screen. He glances at the window to find Lance right in front of his own window, one hand holding his phone to his ear as he expectantly waits for Keith to answer his while his other hand is placed on his hip in a sassy manner. 

Keith sighs as he pushes the green button and places his phone to his ear. Before he can even mutter out a ‘hello,’ Lance is speaking. “So, have you always been a Peeping Tom or is that just a new hobby you picked up recently because of me?” Lance asks. Keith would’ve thought he was being serious if he hadn’t had seen the smirk staring right back at him. Keith scoffs as he stands up, walking towards his window to get closer. 

“I’m not a Peeping Tom,” he snaps defensively. Lance’s eyes flicker down and Keith is embarrassed to realize that he’s hard and he’s now showcasing that. To his surprise though, that wasn’t what Lance was looking at.  

“Is that a fucking knife?” Keith looks down to see that, yes, he still had his knife in his hand. God, Lance is going to think he’s such a weirdo. “You know what, you’re right. You’re not a Peeping Tom. You’re a psychopath.”

“I feel like I’d be more of a sociopath than a psychopath,” Keith corrects despite the fact that he’s neither. Lance’s jaw drops at him at his reply, making Keith laugh at his surprise. “Dude, I’m joking. Calm down.”

“That’s what all psyc–sociopaths would say!” Lance argues, pointing his finger at him again. Keith rolls his eyes as he chuckles, leaning against the windowsill as he goes back to shamelessly eyeing Lance’s torso. “Dude, you’re hard.” 

“What?” Keith asks, acting as if he didn’t hear him perfectly clear and wasn’t currently trying to adjust his pants to hide the fact. 

“Too late to hide it now, Mullet. You’ve been caught redhanded,” Lance teases, making Keith huff and glare. “So, do you always go around holding knives while staring at guys get dressed, or am I special?” Keith tries not to smile, but Lance is just so ridiculous that he finds himself smiling despite himself. 

“You’re special,” Keith humors him. Lance coos as he places his hand over his heart, acting like he’s touched. 

“Awe, that’s so romantic. Go on. Tell me about how you’ve fantasized about butchering me into pieces and gutting me like a fish while jerking off.”

“Dude,” Keith grunts, making a face of disgust at imagining such a thing. Lance laughs at his furrowed brows as he brings his arm up to rest on the wall beside his window, making the lean muscles beneath his skin roll. Keith’s breath might’ve hitched a bit, but who’s to say. 

“Not your thing? That’s cool. I can do whatever you want, baby,” Lance half-jokes, giving Keith a sultry look. And though he was only kidding when he said it, once the words were out there, he remembered that Keith was in fact hard right now. Or at least he was. 

Lance’s eyes flicker down to confirm and, yup, still there. Either Keith is one weird dude who actually has a thing for knives (spoiler alert: he does), or he’s just super into Lance (spoiler number two: it’s also that). “Whatever I want, huh?” Keith asks, smirking back at the Cuban man, and Lance swears that he can practically feel the butterflies starting to erupt in his belly. 

Oh yeah, Keith could tell him to wear a collar and sleep in a dog cage, and Lance would respond with ‘woof’ before being his little bitch. Lance bites his lip at the idea of being Keith’s bitch. Not necessarily in the way he just thought of, but just in general. “Yeah,” Lance breathes more than says. Keith hums as he eyes Lance’s form before slowly backing up and sitting down on his bed again. 

“Put on a show for me then,” Keith says casually as if they’re discussing the weather or what they had for breakfast. Lance can’t say he didn’t see that one coming, but he chokes up a little anyway. 

“What? Right here? With my window open?” Lance whispers despite the fact that he’s home alone and the only person who can see or hear him is Keith. He can’t lie, he likes the idea of someone watching him, especially if that someone is Keith. Keith’s smirk grows as he leans his free hand back onto the bed. 

“Yup,” he replies, making the word pop. Lance gulps and shifts his eyes all around outside before meeting Keith’s gaze again. He takes a deep breath as he trails his free hand down his neck and chest before stopping at the top of his towel that’s hanging on for its life right now. 

He grips the blue towel but stops himself from removing it, suddenly getting an idea. “Take off your shirt first,” he bargains, biting his lip as he waits for the older man to do so. Keith lets out a short laugh through his nose before dropping his phone onto his bed, along with his knife, before tugging the material over his head. After it’s off and on the floor, he picks his phone back up and then places his knife somewhere safe. 

“Alright, your turn,” Keith says lowly into his phone’s receiver. Lance almost whimpers at how deep his voice is getting but manages to swallow it down. Lance shakily undoes the little knot sitting at the front of his waist, taking a deep breath before letting the blue cloth drop to his wooden floorboards. Well, Lance’s cards are all on the table; this is what he has to offer. Lance knows he isn’t super big or anything, but he has some length and girth to him, okay? So, if Keith’s going to back out, he better do it now. 

To Lance’s surprise, and joy, Keith actually groans and then brings his hand to the tent in his sweatpants. Lance bites his lip as he watches Keith touch himself. Fuck, he’s only half-hard right now but if Keith keeps that shit up, he’ll be fully hard in no time. “Touch yourself for me, baby,” Lance hears Keith’s voice coo in his ear, making chills run down Lance’s spine. Mm yeah, Lance could get used to hearing his voice like that, especially if it’s saying stuff like that. 

“Take your pants off,” Lance whines, wrapping his long, slender fingers around himself but not doing anything with them yet. Keith hums in acknowledgment before standing up to do just that, kicking the black sweats off and leaving him naked. Ah, so he was going commando. Keith’s dick was something else entirely. He didn’t have too much length to him either, but his girth was a little insane. Lance can’t help but to imagine Keith inside of him, moaning right behind him in his ear instead of through the phone like he is now. 

With both of them naked now, they both start pumping their bare cocks. Keith tilts his head forward and spits on his shaft, letting his saliva stretch down from his mouth and break off when it’s halfway to its destination. Lance watches entranced for a moment, and he doesn’t know why, but the little show that Keith displays for him causes his dick to twitch in his hand. He quickly follows his lead and spits onto the head despite the fact that he has lube ten feet away from him. This is a lot raunchier though, and Lance is finding that he likes how risque they’re being. In short, it’s hot as fuck. 

“God, look at you. I wish I was over there with you right now,” Keith starts talking, his voice even lower than before and now breathier since he’s panting. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself though,” Keith mumbles, tilting his head back and showing off his pale neck to Lance. It should be illegal that Lance isn’t currently covering the delicate skin of his neck–or everywhere, really–with purple and red right now, maybe even some teeth marks. 

“Yeah? Just what would you do to me, baby?” Lance asks in a breathy tone, doing his best to sound sultry. Apparently it works, if Keith’s hiss and quickening hand is anything to go by. 

“Oh ho, if I was in that room with you, I’d have you bent over by now. You’d be begging for me to touch you, to hurry, to fill you up with my fat cock,” Keith pants out, slowing his hand down to make him last longer. Lance whimpers and moans throughout his entire spiel and even as he adds on more. “I’d take my sweet time stretching that tight hole of yours too. I just know you’d be an impatient brat about it too. I’d bring tears to those pretty eyes and make you beg nice and loud for it before finally giving it to you.” Lance moans loudly when he says ‘nice and loud,’ unashamed about the noises he’s making at Keith’s dirty talk. 

“I think I’d overstimulate you, get you back for all those times you paraded around in short-shorts, came over to ask for sugar knowing good and well you just went grocery shopping, every time you’d leave your window open when you were having a one night stand-”

“You heard those?” Lance gasps, bringing his hand to a stop. He’s already flushed but now his face is burning from embarrassment. 

“Oh yeah, I was here every time you brought a girl over. You’d always make them moan and scream your name, and yet, I never heard you moan like you are for me right now.” Lance whimpers and immediately lets his hand continue pumping himself. He’s mortified that Keith has witnessed such moments in his life, but he’s also thriving. He’d have to ask him about that later when they weren’t in the middle of trying to cum. 

“No one’s made me feel as good as you do, Keith. Always wished it was you making me cum,” Lance admits through a choked moan, tilting his head back and using his shoulder to hold his phone to his ear so that his now free hand can tweak his nipple. 

“Don’t worry, baby. This is only just the beginning. I’ll make you cum harder than you ever have before. All you gotta do is give me a chance,” Keith promises, his hand sliding along his cock faster and faster. God, he was so close. He just needed one more thing to push him over the edge. 

“I’ll give you as many chances as you want,” Lance promises right back. Keith groans and closes his eyes, imagining his hands running down that tanned, lithe body and using it as he pleases. Keith curses as his orgasm rips through him, his hand and floor getting covered in his seed. He opens his eyes again when Lance lets out these cute gasps, his body jerking as he cums shortly after. 

They both pant as they enjoy their high, staring at each other through the glass and listening to their breathing slowly even out over the phone. “Great. Now I’ll have to take another shower,” Lance groans, pretending to be annoyed but the smile he’s wearing gives him away. 

Lance isn’t surprised when his phone vibrates, and sure enough, when he checks it, it’s a message from Keith. A small smile forms on his face as he sets his pencil down to reply to Keith. They hadn’t really talked since the whole I caught you staring at me through my window and then we masturbated together over the phone thing.

“Lance, no,” Pidge suddenly chimes. 

“Lance, yes,” Lance replies, his grin getting bigger as he hastily starts putting his studying equipment away. 

“Lance, c’mon! You’ve already canceled during three study sessions to go hang out with loverboy!” Hunk whines, watching Lance haphazardly shove papers into his bag, which he knows will become wrinkled. 

“Sorry, guys! A possible dick appointment always comes first!” Pidge huffs and sets down her pen, leaning back in her chair to look up at Lance with a bored look. 

“As if Keith would give his dick to you of all people.” Lance scoffs at what she’s implying. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Lance asks incredulously as he tosses his bag to the corner of the room, placing his hands on his waist. Pidge sighs and uses her thumb and pointer finger to rub at her eyes. 

“It means that you two are polar opposites. From what you’ve told me, all you two do is butt heads and eat.” Lance huffs and moves to the door to slide his shoes on as he speaks. Yeah, he hasn’t told either of them about the whole window thing. He wants to, but it’s kind of embarrassing. Not that he’s ever really cared about embarrassing himself in front of his friends, he does it all the time. He really just doesn’t want to tell them about it because he’s afraid they’ll judge Keith for watching him. It was a very consensual thing and Lance definitely would’ve done the same thing if he were in his shoes, but he doesn’t think they’ll understand. 

“Pidge, haven’t you ever heard of enemies to lovers? Or, better yet, have you never heard of hate sex?” Lance asks with an impish grin. Hunk looks between the two helplessly as they continue to go back and forth. 

“Lance, do not start with your fanfiction crap. This is real life.” 

“You know, I bet if I piss him off enough, he’ll finally dick me down,” Lance says exaggeratedly, trying to gross out his short friend as he chooses to ignore her words. He shoots the scientific duo a wink with a slap to his ass before marching out the door. 

Pidge sighs and picks up her pen to get back to work, lightly shaking her head. “In those short shorts, he might just get his wish.”

Lance struts right on over to Keith’s house with his usual confidence. When he reaches his door though, he pulls out his phone to check his hair. After finding that it looks good, he pockets his phone and lays his usual three knocks on the door. Lance hears Keith’s feet rush to the door, a smirk coming to his face. He raises a brow though when the door doesn’t open. Is he checking the peephole or something? 

When the door finally opens, Lance’s usual smile finds its way to his face. “Why hello there, handsome. Your personal chef has arri-”

“What are you wearing?” Lance pouts at being cut off but looks down at his attire despite his annoyance. 

“Uh, clothes?” Lance guesses, looking back up to Keith to find his eyes trained downwards. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Keith snarks back at him, sarcastically rolling his eyes and moving to the side to let Lance inside. Lance swipes his pout away to replace it with his usual scowl, which he’s found he really only uses around Keith. God, this guy has a way of grating on his nerves. He’s just lucky he’s pretty or else Lance wouldn’t come anywhere near the guy. 

“Funny, because I remember a certain someone saying they like my short shorts,” Lance sasses as he pushes past Keith to walk inside his home. 

“I never said I like th-”

“So, what am I making you tonight?” Lance asks, swiftly changing the subject as he heads for the kitchen. 

“You know I don’t care,” Keith replies as he shuts the door behind him, heading towards the kitchen after Lance and taking a seat at the kitchen island. Lance chuckles as he opens up the fridge to look and see what there is. 

“C’mon, Mullet. You and I both know that’s not true.”

“I told you to stop calling me that, and how is that not true?”

Lance smirks and shuts the fridge to look in the freezer, sending Keith a look as he does so. “Well, I remember someone making a delicious fricasé de pollo and someone thought it was too spicy,” Lance replies, now heading over towards the cupboard. 

“Because it was, Lance. It’s chicken stew. It didn’t call for that much spice.” Lance rolls his eyes as he bends over a bit to get a good look inside of the cabinets. What Lance doesn’t know (but seriously hopes) is that Keith doesn’t hesitate to check out Lance’s ass that is threatening to pop out of those shorts. 

“Jeez, a guy adds a dash of cayenne pepper and suddenly it’s the end of the world.” 

“It was way more than a dash, Lance!”

“It wasn’t! You’re just weak!” 

“I am not weak!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Fine. How about I make you some Camarones a la diabla?” Lance asks with a smirk, walking back over to the fridge. 

“Lance, I don’t even know what you just said, let alone-”

“Great! I’ll make that for you then!” Lance cheers, pulling out the shrimp that he saw in the fridge. He stops closing the fridge door though when he hears Keith suddenly speak up, sounding quite frantic. 

“No! We can’t eat those!” Lance turns fully to face him and raises a brow at him.

“Why not?” Keith bites his lip and starts to rub the back of his neck. 

“We just can’t, okay?” Lance huffs and sets all his weight onto one foot. 

“Did you buy these?” 

“Well, yes, bu-”

“Did you plan on eating them?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then I’m making them!”

“Lance!” Keith hisses, sighing when Lance tosses the shrimp onto a large skillet to start searing them. God, can he be any more infuriating? Keith sighs and runs his hands over his face before running them through his hair. 

“Relax, babe. Let me take care of you,” Lance purrs in a fake sultry voice. Keith shakes his head with a roll of his eyes, suddenly pushing himself to stand up and starts heading towards the staircase. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbles. Lance looks at him over his shoulder and bites his lip as he looks down at the pan in front of him. Maybe he went too far this time. What’s so special about this shrimp? Why didn’t he want him to make it? 

After hearing the water cut on, Lance sighs and pulls out his phone to play some music to fill the silence in. The rhythmic beat echoing in the almost empty kitchen helps to lift his mood and distract him from his thoughts. Lance hums along with each song that plays, his hands continuing to cook dinner. As he finishes up the recipe and tosses a few more ingredients onto the shrimp and rice, one of his favorite songs comes on the random shuffle from his playlist. 

“Tener tus ojos debe ser ilegal, y mas si cuando miras solo inspiras a pecar. Esa sonrisa peculiar de jugar a tentar letal,” Lance begins to sing along, his body swaying with the music. When the chorus comes, he starts to swing his hips from side to side, his hand going left and right with the beat to sprinkle more spices over the shrimp. He starts to turn in a circle once the spices have left his fingers, his body taking over as it moves to the music. 

It’s when he does another turn that his eyes suddenly meet grey ones and his entire body is seizing up, dropping the spoon in shock. A chill runs down his spine as he stares into the half-lidded eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. “Keith?” Lance finally squeaks out before quickly clearing his throat and trying again, coming back to his senses. “Keith! Hey, buddy! My man! Uh, when did you get down here?” Lance asks, feigning a cool and casual tone despite the fact that his cheeks feel a little too warm and his stomach is definitely doing flips right now. 

“Long enough to watch you dance through the chorus. Where’d you learn how to dance like that?” Keith replies, his usual monotone, indifferent voice suddenly being replaced with something a little more mischievous, sensual. Lance gulps when Keith promptly starts to walk towards him, but Lance doesn’t see it as walking. He feels like the man is prowling towards him, like he’s the predator and Lance is nothing but his next meal. 

“I didn’t learn it. I just…the music speaks to me,” Lance mumbles sheepishly, unsurely. He starts to move backward when Keith enters the kitchen, matching Keith step for step. A light gasp escapes him when his back bumps into the counter, his throat bobbing as he swallows. He sucks his lip into his mouth when Keith suddenly places his hands on either side of him on the counter, his body being caged in by the taller man (only by three inches, okay? He measured). 

Keith’s only response is letting out a low hum, the vibrations of it going through his chest and reaching Lance’s. Keith licks his lips and Lance’s eyes trace the action, his heart starting to beat louder and louder in his ears when Keith starts inching his way towards Lance’s face. Just as Keith’s lips brush against Lance’s, the front door is swinging open with a bang. 

“Keith? Can you help me carry this stuff in?” Keith jerks away from Lance like he’s been shocked, both of their eyes going wide at the sudden intrusion. 

“Yeah!” Keith calls, clearing his throat and backing away from Lance. Keith runs a hand through his pitch-black hair as he walks around the corner to help whoever it is at the door. Does Keith have a boyfriend? Oh my god, do they live together? Lance tenses up at the idea, his eyes shifting this way and that as he debates on which direction he should run. Should he run? Before he can make up his mind, two bodies are entering the kitchen now. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you had a…friend over,” the man with starkly white hair says, seeming to hesitate and struggle with the word ‘friend.’ Oh god, oh god. He’s onto me! I need to get outta here fast!

“Haha, oh yeah. I was just showing off my wicked cooking skills to my pal Keith here,” Lance replies, once again faking casualness, putting extra emphasis on the word ‘pal.’ “I actually just finished up though and I was just about to start heading ho-”

“Is that our shrimp?” the mystery man suddenly interrupts. Jeez, people sure love interrupting him. Lance tenses though when he realizes what he just asked. Oh my god, was that why Keith didn’t want him to make the shrimp? Because his boyfriend had plans to make him a romantic dinner or something? First Keith didn’t want him to make the shrimp and now his bigger, cooler, grizzled, older boyfriend is about to pummel his face in because of it. “Keith,” the man whines, turning to pout at the younger man. Lance isn’t sure if it’s because he’s terrified that he’s about to get his ass whooped or the fact that this man looks like he spent ten years in prison, but a pout and the puppy dog eyes don’t exactly work for him. 

“You promised you weren’t going to use it, you know I had special plans for the shrimp tonight. It was going to be a surprise,” the burly man mumbles, looking down at the floor. 

Keith knows he’s just yanking his chain, but Lance had no way of knowing that, hence why he says, “Oh man, I’m so sorry. Keith tried to warn me about it, but I didn’t listen. I thought he was just being a stingy grump.” Keith looks over at the tanned man with raised brows, surprised that Lance sounds so earnestly apologetic. Keith finds that he doesn’t like hearing the usually upbeat, bubbly tone being replaced with something so sad and guilty sounding. “Uh, I hope you enjoy it though. I’ll pay you back for the shrimp. Um, sorry again.” Lance gives them both an awkward smile before swiftly starting to speed walk towards the exit. God, he’s such an idiot. First, he goes after a taken man, and now he’s running out of said taken man’s house after ruining his boyfriend’s surprise for him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should’ve known better. A guy as good-looking as Keith couldn’t be single, he knows that. 

Oh my god, he masturbated with Keith, who is taken by a man who could destroy his entire bloodline with his pinky alone. He’s going to die, oh my god, his life is actually ending soon. 

“Great, look what you did. You scared him off. I told you you’re too scary for your own good,” Keith huffs, watching Lance’s retreating figure through the window. 

“I’m not scary. I just work out and happen to be 6’1”.”

“I don’t know how you even attracted Adam. He’s, like, half your size.”

“He’s 5’8”.”

“Exactly.” Shiro sighs and heads over the stove where the delicious smelling food is awaiting his growling stomach. 

“Who’s your friend?”

“His name is Lance. He’s our neighbor.” Shiro raises his brow at this information. 

“Really? Which house?”

“The blue one.”

“Oh. Well, we should thank him for the dinner. It was awfully kind of him. Though, I feel bad that we’re going to eat it without him. I’m sure this took a while to make,” Shiro says as he starts making himself a plate. Keith doesn’t bother to let his brother know that Lance has been doing this for him at least twice a week for about two months now. 

Keith remains silent as he makes his own plate, listening to Shiro moan in delight as he practically inhales his food. “Man, that kid is a genius in the kitchen. I’ll have to go over and thank him for this.”

“Don’t make it weird, Shiro.” 

Instead of replying to his words, Shiro grunts and points at the pan that Keith is currently scooping shrimp out of. “Hey, make sure to save some for him.” Keith stops his scooping to turn and raise a brow at his brother. 

“What? Why? It’s not like he’s going to be joining us,” Keith sasses, walking away from the partially filled pan anyway despite his words. 

“He put a lot of hard work into this, I can tell. He deserves to have some.” Keith sighs and takes a seat beside him, making sure his glass of milk and water are ready to go. He glances at Shiro to find him almost halfway done with his plate without even glancing at his glass of water. This just further convinces Keith that Shiro is actually an alien. 

“You can take it over to him then,” Keith grumbles, picking up his fork. He doesn’t have to be looking at Shiro to feel his brow arching up at him. 

“Why would I take food over to your friend?”

“Because you’re the one that’s oh so concerned about him.” 

“Look who’s making it weird now.”

They continue to go back and forth until they’re both done, in which Keith had to drain two full glasses of milk to get through. Shiro all but shoved him out the door with their leftovers—that technically aren’t leftovers since they saved it on purpose—neatly wrapped up in a bowl to carry over to Lance’s place. He mumbles curses to himself as he awkwardly shuffles over to Lance’s place.

He knocks on the door just like Lance does to his but gets interrupted by a child opening the door—er, not a child, just a very short person. He doesn’t even get to force out a ‘hello’ before she’s sighing. “You must be Keith.” His eyes widen with surprise, shocked that she knows who he is. 

“Uh, yeah. How’d you know?” he asks curiously, stepping into the house once she moves to the side. 

“The mullet gave you away.” One hand leaves the bowl he had been clutching to comb through his hair, his fingers meeting the long strands at his neck. He nibbles on his lip as he awkwardly stands by the door, unsure what to say. God, this was a terrible idea. He’s so bad at social interactions and meeting new people. Lance’s roommate smirks up at him as she closes the door, starting to head for the hallway. “Feel free to take a seat. I’ll go get him.” 

Keith slowly moves to the couch and moves even slower when he sits down. He sits tensely on his cushion, his brain running a hundred miles a second trying to plan what to say, what to do, how to act. He turns his head when there’s a loud thump that comes from the hallway, his eyes widening when Lance suddenly appears looking disheveled. “Keith! Oh my god, Keith!” Lance screeches, his eyes shifting all around his house. Keith didn’t realize this, but Lance was looking at the trash and all the other shit that was littered around the house. Oh my god. Keith is going to think we are slobs. 

“What are you doing here?” Lance all but screeches, pointedly ignoring Pidge’s snickers from her room. 

“I brought you some leftovers. I know you worked hard on it, so I figured you’d want to have some,” Keith says softly, stealing Shiro’s words right from his mouth. He then holds out the bowl towards him, feeling awkward under Lance’s gaze. Lance stares at him bug-eyed for a minute before snorting and taking the bowl from him. 

“You did not, you fat liar,” Lance laughs, swiveling around to walk towards his kitchen to warm up his food. Keith scoffs with indignation and follows after him, hot on his heel. 

“How am I a liar? You saying that you didn’t work hard on it?” Keith argues, watching Lance put his bowl into the microwave. 

“No, I know I did a fantastic job on this. I’m saying you’re a liar because I know you didn’t think that. You probably just couldn’t finish it or felt guilty,” Lance replies, leaning back against the counter with a smirk. Keith huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Oh yeah? And how do you know? You weren’t there since you booked it out of there so suddenly.” Lance already had his quip on the tip of his tongue, but it suddenly died when he actually processed Keith’s words. Right. He left because Keith’s boyfriend showed up. He’s surprised that his boyfriend even let him bring it over here.

Lance realizes he’s been quiet for a little too long now and his cheeks fill with warmth. “Well, thanks for bringing it by. I’ll be sure to return your bowl,” Lance says as he spins around to face the microwave that’s about to go off. When he gets no reply and doesn’t hear footsteps retreating, he looks over his shoulder to find Keith giving him a weird look. “What?” he asks, wondering why Keith didn’t take that as his cue to leave. 

They stand in another pregnant silence just staring at each other, Keith seems to try and find the right words. Before he could though, Lance snaps his fingers and lets out a shaky laugh. “Oh, right! You must be waiting for the payment I owe ya! Let me go get my wallet!” Lance rushes out, walking away from the microwave just as it starts beeping. 

“Lance, stop,” Keith commands as he takes ahold of Lance’s arm to stop him. To his surprise, Lance actually stops to look at him. 

“What? Don’t y-”

“Stop it. Why are you acting like this?” Keith demands, his face twisting up in anger. 

“Acting like what?” Lance snaps, jerking his arm out of his hold. 

“Like this! Like you aren’t my friend!” 

“Your friend? Sorry but we’re not friends. Friends don’t use one another as a personal chef and only talk to them when they’re hungry. Friends don’t lie and let their friends flirt with them while they’re taken, and friends especially don’t jack off together when they’re taken,” Lance snaps. Keith looks hurt at first, like he’s been slapped, but then his features morph into those of confusion. 

“Woah, wait. Flirting? You were flirting with me?” Keith asks, shocked. Lance feels as shocked as Keith looks. 

“Um, yeah. Why else would I let you treat me like a slave and wear short shorts every time I come over to your house?” Lance replies with disbelief. 

“I never treated you like a slave. You could’ve told me no. Besides, I let you eat half of what you made!” 

“I couldn’t have said no though! I owed you and I used it as an excuse to see you!” 

Instead of verbally replying to Lance, Keith smashes his lips against Lance’s. It’s messy, full of spit and teeth, but, god, if it didn’t spark something alive deep down inside of Lance. Lance instantly moans and wraps his arms around Keith’s neck, bringing their bodies closer together. When Keith bites on Lance’s lower lip, the pleasurable pain sends a shock to Lance’s brain. He gasps and shoves at Keith’s chest, putting some distance between their bodies. 

“Hey! Woah! You can’t kiss me!” Lance shrieks with a red-hot face, one hand pointing at Keith and the other hiding his mouth. 

“What? Why not?” Keith asks, already stepping closer to Lance with clouded eyes. 

“What do you mean ‘why?’ You’re taken! Your boyfriend is right next door and would so beat my ass if he found out, and I don’t know about you, but I like my ass!” Despite Lance’s horror and fear, Keith starts to laugh loudly. Lance is so shocked that he drops his arms and just gapes like a fish at the man. It’s official. Keith has finally lost his mind. 

“So do I,” Keith teases. Lance just crosses his arms back over his chest and glares at Keith, trying to show him he’s serious despite the blush radiating off of his face right now. Seeing this, Keith huffs and rolls his eyes a bit. “He’s not my boyfriend, Lance.” Lance scoffs at the lie. 

“Right. Sure he isn’t. And my middle name isn’t Alvaro.”

“Your middle name is Alvaro?” 

“Yes, but that’s beside the point, Keith!” Keith lets out a laugh through his nose and moves to wrap his arms around Lance’s waist only to be stopped. Keith groans and drops his head back to look up at the ceiling. 

“Good God, Lance! I already told you he’s not my boyfriend!”

“Then what is he? Why does he have a key to your house? Why does h-”

“He’s my brother, Lance! For crying out loud, Shiro is so not my type. Ugh, just thinking about him in that way gives me the heeby-jeebies.” Keith brings his head back up to look at Lance, finding the Cuban pouting at him. 

“How do I know you’re not lying?” 

Keith groans again as he runs a hand over his face. “Did you not look at the family pictures that cover our walls? He’s in every single one of him cause he’s known me since I was in diapers.” Lance falls silent at this, trying to remember the family photos that hang in the Kogane household. Lance zeroes in on one family photo, focusing on Keith before shifting his mental focus onto a guy standing next to him. He mentally stares at the boy, trying to put the pieces together. Then it clicks. That’s him! Well, kinda. He has black hair in that picture and is missing the scar running across the bridge of his nose, but it’s him! Oh, thank the heavens. 

Lance sighs in relief and slumps against Keith. “Oh, thank god,” he speaks aloud, letting Keith wraps his arms around his waist while his arms hang loosely by his side. 

“You’re such an idiot sometimes.” 

“Hey, don’t be mean to your boyfriend,” Lance whines, looping his arms around Keith’s neck. 

“Boyfriend?” Keith asks, his tone almost sounding teasing. Lance blushes furiously as he pulls away, staring up at Keith with wide eyes. 

“What? Pfft, no. I didn’t say that. I said…best friend,” Lance argues, pulling away to open the microwave. Keith chuckles and presses his front to Lance’s back, wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist again. 

“Oh, really? What a shame. I was hoping that I could call this cute guy I know my boyfriend. Too bad,” Keith says, faking nonchalance as he pulls away. Lance spins around and catches him by the collar before Keith can slip away. 

“You should ask him then. I bet he likes you.” 

“Yeah? You think so?” Keith asks, his face growing nearer to Lance’s. 

“I know so.”

“Mm, okay,” Keith whispers, his lips ghosting against Lance’s. He then pulls back and suddenly takes out his phone, making Lance whine and huff. 

“What are you doing?” Lance groans, tugging on the arm that holds his phone. 

“Texting the guy I like,” Keith replies calmly, a smirk growing on his lips. Lance’s heart stops at this, suddenly confused. Doesn’t Keith like him? Why would he text someone else? 

Lance goes to pull away dejectedly when his back pocket suddenly vibrates. He perks up like a flower in spring, a smile coming to his face as he slips his phone out. 

‘Be my boyfriend?’ reads the text from ‘Mullet Man.’

Lance looks up at Keith with a smile that puts the sun to shame, his slim fingers swiftly typing a message back to Keith. 

‘No <3’

Keith scoffs and looks up at Lance, finding him dipping his finger into his soup to test the temperature. “Why you little-” Keith grounds out, wrapping his arm around Lance’s neck to put him in a chokehold. 

“Keith! Stop!” Lance shrieks with laughter, trying to pry his arm away. “I knew you’d be a kinky guy, but I didn’t think you’d be into choking!” Lance jokes, Keith’s laughter ringing like bells in his ear. 

“Does everything have to be sexual with you?” Keith asks between chuckles as he pulls away from the shorter male, his arms moving to wound around Lance’s waist. 

“Yes, actually,” Lance sasses, giving Keith’s cheek a kiss as his arms find their way back around his neck. Keith hums and lightly massages his hips, his heart fluttering in his chest. After staring into each other’s eyes like lovesick fools and kissing each other breathless, Lance pulls away to reheat his food since it had cooled off while they were fooling around. 

“So, what is your type?” Lance asks as he pulls his rewarmed food out of the microwave, hopping up on the counter as he starts to eat. Keith is temporarily distracted from his weird question by the fact that his newfound boyfriend is sitting on the counter in front of him with his legs wide open, the limbs seeming to just be waiting to get bitten into. 

“What?” Keith replies very smartly, thank you. Lance snorts around his food and it should be gross that when he did that, a piece of rice flew out of his mouth, but Keith thinks it’s just insanely cute of his dork of a boyfriend. 

Boyfriend. God, he’ll never get tired of saying that. 

Ew, he really is whipped for him. 

“Earlier, you said that Shiro was so not your type,” Lance starts, attempting to mock Keith’s deep voice and failing miserably, “So what is your type then?” Keith hums thoughtfully as if he actually has to ponder the question, his feet idly taking him closer to the Cuban. 

“Well, I love…” Keith trails off, making a point to eat Lance alive with his gaze, “skin that has been kissed by the sun god himself. I love dark, curly hair that just begs me to touch it. I love eyes that are bluer than the ocean. I love thighs that I’d gladly let crush me any day of the week…” At that last part, Keith moves in between his boyfriend’s legs and places his hands onto the toned thighs that rest on the counter. He looks up from the meaty flesh when he hears a whimper, smirking when he finds Lance’s eyes clouded with newfound lust. 

“Shut up and kiss me already,” Lance begs, setting his food off to the side to wrap his arms around Keith’s neck. 

And who is Keith to deny the perfect man?

“What’s your favorite flower?” Keith looks up from the book that he’s reading at the question, raising his brow when he finds Lance staring back at him in anticipation. 

“What?” is Keith’s eloquent reply. 

“Your favorite flower. You have to have one,” Lance says as he places his head back onto Keith’s shoulder and looks around at the sunflower field they’re currently lounging in. 

“Oh, um…I’d say it’s…an Allium,” he replies after thinking for a moment. 

“What? Aluminum?” Lance jokingly repeats back to him. Keith laughs and turns his head to look down at Lance.

“No. Allium,” he repeats. Lance hums and then tries the word out on his tongue and Keith can’t deny that he likes the way Lance says it with his accent. 

“I’ve never heard of it. What color is it?” 

“It has more than one color, like most flowers. They can be blue, purple, white, or yellow.” 

“Oh. What’s your favorite then?” 

“Well, it used to be the purple one but now…” Keith trails off, suddenly gaining heat in his cheeks. His cut-off makes Lance pick his head up to look over at Keith. 

“But now what?” he asks curiously, leaning his face closer to his. 

“Nothing.” 

“C’mon, babe! You have to tell me!” 

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!” 

“Says who?” 

“Me!”

“That means nothing to me,” Keith replies with a snort. Lance scoffs and lightly smacks his arm. 

“I’m your boyfriend!”

“That’s precisely why I can’t tell you.”

“Don’t make me dump your ugly ass!” Lance shouts. 

“First of all, you’re too obsessed with me to ever dump me. Second of all, you and I both know that you don’t think I, or my ass, are ugly,” Keith replies with a smirk. Lance huffs before letting out a long groan as he leans against him dramatically. 

“Please,” Lance begs, carrying out the vowels. 

“No,” Keith bluntly replies. 

“Pretty please!” 

“No.” 

“I’ll give you a blowjob!” Lance offers. 

“You’d do that anyway.”

“Not anymore I won’t!”

“Lance-”

“Just tell me!” 

“The blue ones are my favorite now,” Keith replies with an eye roll. Lance pauses at this before huffing, flopping down into Keith’s lap and right over his book. 

“All of that fuss just for that?” 

“They’re my favorite now because of you, idiot.” 

“Oh,” Lance mumbles, stretching at the word out. 

“It’s an onion.”

Keith looks up from his computer when his boyfriend invites himself into his room without knocking. Luckily for Keith, he’s used to it. “What is?” he asks, closing his laptop since he knows that now his boyfriend is here, he won’t be getting any work done. 

“Your favorite flower!” Keith pauses and stares at Lance as if he’s grown a second head before realizing just what Lance is talking about. 

“Oh. Yeah, it is,” Keith says casually in response despite the fact that his boyfriend is gaping at him. Lance walks over to him and Keith swings his legs off the bed to rest his feet on the floor. Lance walks right up to him and Keith gently tugs him between his legs even though the Cuban looks hysterical. 

“Your favorite flower in an onion?” Lance asks again, wanting more clarification. 

“Yes,” Keith replies, not giving it to him. Lance sighs and rests his head on top of Keith’s, inhaling the scent of Keith’s shampoo (that Lance had gotten him since the heathen was using 2in1). 

“Just go look downstairs,” Lance sighs, giving up on trying to talk sense into Keith. He makes sure to make a note of this though and to constantly bully Keith about it despite the fact that he secretly thinks it’s cute. It doesn’t matter if it’s cute though, he’s never letting Keith live it down. 

Keith raises a brow and slowly stands up, gently taking Lance’s hand in his as he heads downstairs. The surprise is obvious since nothing is usually there. 

“You brought me some?” Keith asks softly, walking over to the door where the normally empty flower vase is currently filled with his favorite flower. 

“Yeah. I’m surprised they fit,” Lance grumbles but Keith is too busy being flustered over the fact that he brought him flowers to nag at him. 

“Thank you. No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” Keith says softly, leaning down to smell them. He smiles when he feels arms go around his waist, leaning back into his shorter boyfriend (Only by three inches, Keith. Oh my god.) with a hum. 

“Well, get used to it, baby. I’m gonna keep buying you flowers,” Lance promises in his ear before spinning him around to give him a kiss. Keith smiles into the kiss, feeling his heart dance in his chest. “Only after you pick a new favorite flower though because these were hard to find.” 

Keith smacks his chest for that one, but he laughs nonetheless and agrees for his whining boyfriend.

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