#HOWEVER i’ve willed myself enough to finish a few!

[junicult]

………………….….would you guys accept a little harvey drabble…………………

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER TEN - READER

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 I shouldn’t be nervous. I’ve been on plenty of first dates before, so my dating life isn’t completely non-existent. It’s just been a while. But the men that I have gone out with haven’t been Toji Fushiguro. 

 Okay, so maybe I am a bit nervous. 

 Despite all the small interactions me and Toji had these past two weeks, I still find myself overthinking about our date. 

 I mean, everything should go fine, yes? What difference would it make if this wasn’t considered a date and just another spontaneous meeting? 

 It’s not, Y/N. 

 I know, but it feels different because we agreed to get to know each other. This man, that I barely know yet feels awfully familiar, manages to put butterflies in my stomach. He kisses me in a way that feels light, and holds me possessively to make me feel like I’m his. And I may be looking ahead of myself, but I wouldn’t mind if he considers me that. 

 Something about Toji feels right, like I’m almost positive everything will go well between us the more we open up. But Toji isn’t the only one who feels skeptical about this either. 

 The last time I felt this quickly about someone, I ended up getting my heart broken. That someone being, Nanami. 

 And knowing me, if I fall in love, I fall hard. . . I want that same sentiment. Nanami gave it to me, but it wasn’t consistent and it didn’t last. 

 Toji? Well, my heart might be taking a risk if I end up falling in love with a single dad who’s a widow. Let’s also not forget I’m his son’s high school reading teacher. 

 A lot of what ifs, maybes, and mishaps can happen between us. However, I’m willing to see what happens. 

 I can’t allow my hesitancy to prevent me from trying because there’s just something about Toji Fushiguro that I get enough of. 

 While I was finishing up getting ready, I heard a knock at my door. 

 “Seven-thirty. Oh, he’s early,” I mutter to myself, looking at the time. 

 Before I go to answer, I take a quick look in the mirror. 

 Toji didn’t tell me where we’re going or what we’re doing, but I took the hint of him saying I need energy to not wear anything too formal or heels. 

 So my outfit is simple. 

 I feel really pretty wearing a white ruffle crop top that sits off my shoulders and pairing it with a russet brown high slit skirt. 

 I kept my makeup natural, but went a little bolder with my lips by coating them with a brown gloss. And my hair? The wash-and-go I did a few days ago is still on my side, so I just fluffed out my curls with a pick. 

 I was too busy admiring myself in the mirror, I almost forgot Toji was waiting for me.

 Quickly I grabbed my purse and phone to answer the door and I couldn’t prevent my mouth from spreading into a smile upon seeing him. 

 Can this man get any finer? 

 I’ve never dated a man where we had a huge age difference, let alone twelve years, but it seems like I was missing out because who knew forty-two could look that good. 

 “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Fushiguro.” Immediately his masculine, amber and woody musk scent permeates my senses. Then, I take in his appearance. 

 How his physique fills out the white sweater and black jeans he’s wearing makes me wet beyond measure. Especially when I know what he looks like underneath. Well, at least not all underneath. 

 But it looks like I’m not alone with admiring how one looks. 

 Toji hasn’t said a word to me. He barely acknowledged that I spoke to him, however, the look in his eyes…how he’s staring at me, studying my body and what I’m wearing…

 If he keeps looking at me like that, I can guarantee you I’ll say fuck this date and pull him into my apartment. 

 I’m very tempted, too, since it’s been a while. 

 “I’m assuming I dressed up nice?” I asked suggestively. 

 “You’re beautiful.” Not you look, but you are. 

 His admission makes my cheeks hot. 

 “Thank you,” I replied while tucking a curl behind my ear. “You came early, I see.” 

 “Hope that’s okay? Just didn’t feel like waiting another thirty minutes.”

 It’s more than okay. 

 “You’re fine.” 

 He gives me a small smile. “Ready to go?”

 “Yeah, let me just grab my things-” If I said I wasn’t nervous, I would be lying because I already have my purse and phone in my hand. “Actually, never mind. I have everything I need.” He gives me a curt nod and waits for me to lock my door. 

 As we’re walking toward the elevator, Toji’s hand rests on the curve of my back like it’s second nature to him. And it could just be the natural thing to do, guiding me through the halls, despite this being my apartment building. 

 But it’s those small gestures that are most effective to me. 

 I show little to no reaction to what his hand on my bare skin does to me. How it transfers warmth to my body and spreads goosebumps across it. It feels good. 

 Territorial and protective. 

 I’m not sure where this night with Toji will take me, but I’m ready to see. 

 Never in a million years would I ever deem Toji Fushiguro to be the type to plan a picnic. Yet here we are. 

 For a man that claims he’s not looking for a relationship, he sure is making it hard for me to not fall in love with him, especially in this setting. How the sky is a perfect shade of midnight that’s accompanied by the stars and moon, makes it more intimate. 

 The night isn’t too cold. A soft breeze and lingering heat from earlier today. 

 Though, what’s making this scenery better is Toji’s pale complexion that contrasts perfectly with the time of day. To think his rich shade of green hues would be complimented the most in the sun, here I am at night being proved wrong. 

 “A picnic, Mr. Fushiguro? Seems pretty intimate. Don’t you think?” I opted to break the silence because if I stared at this ridiculously attractive man, he would’ve noticed if he hadn’t already. 

 A small smile curves on his face. “I don’t like being around people when I don’t have to.”

 “Oh. Is that your only reason?”

 “No, I wanted you alone to myself because I don’t need a fucking server in our faces every two seconds asking if we need refills or a dessert.” 

 Alone time with you is what I’m worried about. 

 In more ways than one, Toji has shown me how territorial he can be, and it does not work in my favor when I happen to be turned on by it. 

 I clear my throat. “Hm, I see.”

 “Besides, pretty sure my cooking tastes much better than whatever restaurant I would’ve taken you to.” I watch him unpack a few bento boxes and plastic cups to fill our drinks with. He opted for apple cider and I’m completely only with that, given the fact that Toji doesn’t drink. 

 He continues, “I hope you don’t mind Japanese food.”

 “Absolutely not. That’s the only thing I miss about my ex, and one of the many things I miss about living in Japan. The amount of cuisines I had access to,” I tell him. “It’s so fresh and savory.”

 While I ramble about my love for his culture’s food, I notice a tick in his jaw and his blank expression. Am I…

 “Sorry, am I talking too much?”

 “No,” he deadpans. 

 “Why the sudden change-”

 “Your ex. This is the second time you brought him up. On top of that, you said you miss him.”

 It completely slipped my mind that I have mentioned Nanami twice in my passing conversation with Toji. 

 Way to freaking blow it, Y/N. You haven’t had a relationship with anyone else in years and here you go bringing up your ex-fiancé while you’re on a date.

 Has dating always been this nerve wrecking?

 “I didn’t mean to-”

 “Make me jealous?” He interjects. Those were not the words I was going to say. 

 “No? Why would I try to? And why would you be?”

 “Why would I be jealous of another fucker experiencing you?” He asks sarcastically. “Miss L /N, I’m sure you can figure that out.”

 He’s… jealous? There’s no way this should be turning me on right now, but of course my thighs subtly rubbing together couldn’t make it more evident.

 “I’ll be more cautious.”

 The tension and dead silence between us is thick, but not in a bad way. What I’ve come to learn about Toji in all our interactions is that he's an open book. Whatever’s on his mind, whether it’s something sexual or about his personal life, he tells me. 

 Those hues that remind me of the rainforest, jade and earth like, tells me. They hold power, darkening while leisurely ogling my body, slowly trailing up and down my curves until they meet with my eyes once more. 

 Whenever Toji looks at me like that, my heart pounds against my chest and sensation builds between my legs. He has no shame from looking at me with such animalistic hunger. 

 It… entices me. 

 Does he not know what this does to me?

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask breathlessly. 

 “Like what?”

 “Like you want to devour me.”

 All Toji does is trace his bottom lip with his tongue and hums. 

 Gosh, I need this man so fucking badly. 

 “How was your day?” He chooses to ignore my question. A first from him, actually. 

 I tuck a curl behind my ear. “It was fine. Work was work.”

 He sighs. “Wish I could say the same.”

 “Something happened?”

 He takes the apple cider out of the chiller and pours a glass for me before pouring one of his own. Our fingertips graze and a touch as simple as that has chills running down my spine. 

 “The owner sold the club to a new fucker and it seems like the gods are fucking with me.” 

 “How so? The new owner is a douche?” I ask, causing him to let out an incredulous chuckle.

 “More than that. The-” He stops short of sentence, contemplating if he wants to tell me what’s on his mind. 

 “You don’t have to tell me, Toji. It’s okay,” I reassure him. 

 “No, it’s fine. It’s just—thinking about my life back in Japan puts me in a shitty mood.” 

 I place my hand on his thigh to give him a comforting squeeze. Again, we sat in silence for a bit until he decided to tell me about what happened at work. 

 My expression remains neutral while Toji tells me about someone from his family that disowned him is the one who purchased the club. Apparently a cousin he didn’t know even existed. 

 He doesn’t go too much into detail about his family history, but my stomach is filled with disgust hearing that his uncle is practically forcing the kids to get married and make babies. All for the sake of fucking keeping a generation alive. 

 Yet my heart breaks for Toji knowing that’s the type of environment he grew up in. 

 I can tell that definitely affected his fathering to Megumi. 

 “Oh… wow. That’s-”

 “Sad?” He attempts to finish for me. 

 “No. Well, I mean, yeah. But I was going to say how shitty your family is. You didn’t deserve that.”

 He chuckles, stuffing a rice ball in his mouth. “How do you know what I deserve?”

 “I don’t, but it’s definitely not trauma from people that’s supposed to love and protect you.”

 Toji stops chewing for a moment, like he’s trying to process what I said, but quickly gathered himself together. 

 “That’s how they treat the fuck up.”

 I grab his chin to hold and force him to look at me. “Hey, what did I tell you about being kind to yourself?”

 His eyes slightly widen while locking with mine as if he’s in disbelief from what I said. Or I don’t know, maybe because I grabbed his face. 

 It might’ve been bold for me to do that, especially knowing Toji is affected by my touch as well, but I refuse to hear him belittle himself like that. 

 I’ve had my fair share of pain over the years, but it isn’t nearly enough or comparable to what Toji had or has  to endure. 

 I just hate seeing the people I care about talk down on themselves. And despite us barely knowing each other,  Toji Fushiguro is definitely on my list. 

  His face softens. “You bossing me around now, Miss L /N?” The tenderness and earnestness in his voice makes my stomach flutter. 

 “If that’s what it takes to get through that big head of yours, then yeah,” I answer, playfully letting go of his chin to push his face away. I attempt to take a sip of my apple cider, but Toji latches onto my hand to hold against his lips. 

 “Okay,” is all he says. That simple response that spreads warmth beneath my cheeks and has me internally squealing like a little girl in a candy store. 

 Thirty minutes into our date and I already want to be lovey dovey with him by showering him with kisses. 

 I can only imagine how long I’ll have until I can no longer control myself. 

 The time goes by smoothly with Toji and I. After eating his delicious food and having comfort conversations, I’ve never felt more relaxed. 

 It’s been awhile since I felt this way, like the world doesn’t exist. That’s what happens when I’m around him. We just… talk. More so, me, and he does all the listening, occasionally putting his input or talking about himself. 

 I’ve learned a lot about Toji within these past few hours. His guilty pleasure in gambling, which I don’t mind because betting on horse races is pretty normal. Being able to witness Toji yelling like an obsessed fan is a sight worth seeing. 

 However, I think my favorite part of our conversations is seeing how his face lights up and softens when talking about his son.

 Usually, he tells me what pains him when it comes to his relationship with Megumi, but this time, I’m gifted with the happy moments Toji remembers. 

 Like when he was born or even down to the first word he spoke in English. I wish Toji had my eyes so he could see how he looks whenever he talks about him. 

 Despite his current strained relationship with his son, I know Toji is trying his best to be a father to him. I can’t help but look at him with such affection. 

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” The smile on his face makes me believe he’s mocking me when I asked the same question earlier. 

 “It’s a crime for me to look at you?”

 “With those eyes? Yeah,” he answers, continuously massaging my thigh. 

 I giggle. “And what kind of eyes are mine?”

 “Brown. Beautiful. Soft. Pretty enough to make a fucker weak in the knees.” He tells me this with no hesitation and it catches me off guard.

 I’m lost for words.

 “I… just enjoy hearing you talk, especially about Megumi. It feels humbling.”

 He hums. “I think having a kid makes you feel that way. I truly was a fucking train wreck before I met his mother and had him. Enough motivation to be better. To do better.”

 “Can I know more about her?”

 By how his hand stops midway while rubbing my thigh, I know he knows who I mean by her.

 Instant regret hits me because I feel like I overstepped a boundary. Toji doesn’t look at me, but there’s a smile on his face. I quickly spew out an apology, however, he reassures me that I’m okay. 

 “It’s not you, just… not now. Maybe another time,” he says, resuming his massages. “C’mon, Y/N. I know better than to talk about my late wife while I’m on a date. Cut me some slack.”

 I place my palm against his cheek to rub his flesh with my thumb. “I know she meant a lot to you.”

 “Yeah, she did… But I think I have another person who’s starting to mean something to me, too.”

 “Yeah?” I question, smiling. “Who?”

 “My son’s reading teacher. She’s fucking hot and has a nice ass.” I playfully swat his chest, earning me a hearty chuckle from him. “Just being honest.”

 “Whatever.”

 “Yeah, whatever?” I don’t know where it started, but suddenly Toji leaned forward, leaving but a breath away from kissing.

 I look at him through lidded eyes, altering my attention between his irises and his lips. No drinking has been done, but I feel drunk off his energy. 

 How he looks at me. Talk to me. The way his hand goes up and down my thigh slowly, intimately, creeping closer to my center that I know is currently pooling wetness.

 Toji Fushiguro knows the effect he has on me. He freaking made me come from just drying humping. Every night I visualize him between my legs, licking and sucking until I’m writhing above him. To fuck me so passionately and aggressively with his cock until I’m begging for more.

 I want him to imprint my insides. I want to be desired and worshiped by this man. I can’t help but look deprived by fisting his sweater to pull him closer to mouth to kiss, only for him to rear back and taunt me. 

 He tsks. “Why are you so fucking needy? Hm?” His hand cuffs my face, digging his fingers into my cheeks to purse my lips. “Always whimpering. You know what that shit does to me?”

 “Because I want you.”

 “Where do you want me? Here?” I arch into him and whine from feeling his hand hike up my skirt to palm my pussy. 

 I nod with such eagerness.

 “You call this string, panties? I can easily rip these off and eat that sweet fat pussy right now.”

 “Can you?” I ask, sounding like I’m losing all senses. Toji answers me by pulling my thong to the side to thumb my clit. 

 It’s almost embarrassing how wet he finds me considering he hasn’t barely touched me. My grip on his sweater grows tighter, bound to leave wrinkles the more fervently he rubs circles around my clit.

 He flicks faster, my soft moans and wetness being played with fills the space between us, being only audible for him to hear. 

 Toji drags his nose along my neck, inhaling my scent and leaving open mouthed kisses. Along the way, my fingers slip through his dark locks to tug him closer. 

 And to think Toji would continue to tease me without inserting his fingers inside of me, his fingers sinking inside of my pussy says otherwise.

 “Ohh…” I breathed. 

 “Fuck. . . How long you been wet for me like this, princess?”

 I clench around his fingers at the pet name. 

 He begins pumping in and out of me while leaving love marks across my flesh. His fingers… they’re so thick and the perfect length to deliver pleasure. They stretch me, and I feel desperation pricking my skin at wanting to feel his cock inside of me, too.

 I latch onto Toji’s face to meet mine and force our lips together. I couldn’t take not kissing him because kissing him feels like everything has stopped around us. I know all I need is to taste him to know that I’ll be okay. 

 He chuckles into my mouth, which I’m guessing due to my neediness and boldness, but that soon turns into groans I happily devour. 

 “Toji,” I gasp, breaking our kiss for some air with nothing but a string of saliva connecting us. 

 “As much as I enjoy hearing you moan my name, stop talking.” It’s like déjà vu because I immediately think about the first night we kissed and I told him the same thing. 

 Toji is addictive. I can’t stop saying this. How he sucks on my tongue possessively and bites down on my bottom lip, damn near drawing blood, has me wanting to submit to him. 

 He’s the type of man that could tell me what to do not because I allow him, but for the reason he knows that he can. 

 I want him to have his way with me. I want him to keep thrusting his fingers in my pussy until I come and moan his name uncontrollably. 

 God, who knew fingering could feel this good. 

 “A little faster, Toji,” I muffle through our kiss. 

 “Trying to boss me around? How can I say no,”—his pace picks up and finger fuck me harder—“when you fucking sound like that?”

 I instinctively raised my hips and spread to have his digits pump deeper inside of me. His thumb finds my clit once more and I shudder beneath him. My hands claws into the flesh of his scalp, making it clear I’m close to my orgasm.

 We kiss for a bit longer before he starts showing attention to my face, peppering his lips softly across my cheeks. The gesture, it feels… unlike him. 

 Not that I expect Toji to only be rough with me, but for him to be this tender while finger fucking my pussy… I’m bound to fall in love with this man. 

 “You sound pretty. Moaning for me. Saying my name like that’s all you know in that little teacher brain of yours,” he whispers, kissing behind my ear. An airy chuckle escapes his mouth that furthers the libido that’s pumping through my veins. “This pussy is so fucking tight. You sure you could take me, baby girl?”

 “Toji, yes. Just fuck me… Please.”

 He shakes his head. “Not here, sweetheart. I want you spread out on the bed when I’m balls deep inside of you. I want to hear the bed creaking when you’re riding my cock, and see those pretty titties bouncing in my face.” The more he speaks to me in this timbre is only aiding my near release. “But don’t worry, Miss L/N. I’ll take care of you tonight with just my fingers. Got this fucking pussy soaking and squeezing the fuck out of me. Just keep sounding sexy like that for me. Okay?”

 Fuck... I feel myself coming. He slows down his thrust and applies more pressure to my throbbing clit. I match his movements by circling my hips around his fingers. 

 Toji’s voice alone is enough to make me orgasm, and it hits me hard. The nerves of fire I had coiled in the pit of my stomach finally unleashes and has me moaning louder than usual, with a few breaths being stuck in my throat.

 Coming this hard just from being fingered and talked to so passionately with such obscenity, I’m a crying mess. And in the midst of my release, I squirt. Something I’ve never done before.

 He chuckles, “Good girl. Good fucking girl. You always messy like this?”

 “Oh–Oh, God… Toji… I–I don’t know. Why does this feel so good?”

 “I said I was going to take care of you. Right?” T0ji removes his fingers from my pussy, taking his time to collect enough of my arousal in his hand to bring to his face. He raises his hand in the air and separates his fingers, groaning at the sight of my wetness gleaming under the moonlight.

 Toji brings his hand to his nose and deeply inhales my scent, pleasurably exhaling while sucking my juices off his fingers.

 “You taste fucking good, sweets.”

 Sweets. Hearing him call me that does even more to me than being called princess. 

 Now, I feel even more desperate for Toji, completely losing my senses and busying my hands trying to unbuckle his pants. I want him. I crave him. Am I needy? Yes, although I don’t remember ever being this way, but that’s what happens when you’re finger fucked by Toji Fushiguro.

 “Easy girl,” he rasps, latching onto my wrists to halt my erratic movements. “As much as I enjoy watching you being so desperate for me, I don’t want you to feel obligated-”

 I cut him off. “No, I just want your dick inside of me.”

 “Fuck, you’re making it hard for me, Y/N.”

 “You are. I’m making it easy for you,” I argue.

 He clasps onto my chin to place the sweetest kiss on my lips. My body relaxes and I feel content with tasting myself on him. “Not like this… Okay?”

 “Okay,” I answered, giving him a small smile.

 “So… you’re a squirter? We’ll have to push you like that again.”

 If it wasn’t for my dark brown complexion, I know my warmth would show. “Please don’t remind me.”

 He throws his head back and lets out a laugh that has me joining him. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweets. It’s sexy.”

 After being cleaned up by the travel size wipes I keep in my purse, Toji and I lay together and talk for hours under the midnight sky. 

 As I said before, Toji is a beautiful catalyst that I’m ready to get to know.

 The familiarity I feel around him is compelling. And I’m aware that we agreed on something casual for now, but after tonight, I don’t think that would be possible for me.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

discussion question #6 — nothing really pertaining to this chapter, but how are we feeling about the story so far? im honestly enjoying it. i do apologize for the long update. next chapter will be out in a few weeks and it'll be a timeskip, about a month or so. thank you for reading and i'll see you next time ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

[haydenslittlegirl]

guys send me requests!! I’m willing to write about anything.

Not proof read!!

Warnings:kissing, suggestive content

omg imagine that reader is having moodswings and she’s ignoring anakin and anakin knows exactly what she wants.

This is what you wanted?

You paced around the room patiently waiting for anakin to get home. You knew that Jedi business took ages to be finished but it’s been such a long time since you and him spent any quality time together. It felt like he was neglecting you and your needs. You decided that enough was enough the second he gets home you’re gonna take what you want.

A few minutes passed and the door swung open anakin was standing there with a smile on his face waiting for you to go and hug as you usually do. But you don’t. You don’t even look at him. He thought that maybe you just didn’t see or hear or you are just took occupied with the book you are reading.

He walked up to where you were sitting on the sofa and examined you. You purposely discarded of your robes and you were just left in you underwear and bra. He knew you wanted to tease him and he liked it.

“Hey baby I’ve missed you” he said as he bent down to where you were sitting attempting to give you a kiss.

But nope you weren’t having it you dodged his kiss and stood up from the couch and headed towards your shared bedroom.

As you stood up anakin could got a clear view of your round plump ass he immediately got hard and followed you into the bedroom.

“What’s wrong my love” he said barely as a whisper it was so hard to ignore him when he was so patient and loving but you were so tired and you had so much pent up frustration from not being fucked in days.

You continued reading your book on your shared bed hoping that he would the hint. He just sat beside you and massaged your shoulders while kissing them every once in awhile.

He moved his mouth to your neck which caused you drop your book and forget however you were feeling before.

“Tell me whats wrong baby” he murmured as he kissed lower towards your collarbone.

You said nothing which caused him to stop. He clearly saw that you were enjoying it so if you didn’t want to speak to him he wouldn’t give you what he knew you wanted.

“Speak or I’ll stop” he said as he played with the strap of your bra moving it up and down.

You sighed as you began speaking, you didn’t want to give in so easily but it was just the way his lips were kissing on your neck that had you feeling so wet.

“you never have time for me anymore, I’m always left staying at home having to try and please myself because my busy boyfriend won’t” you said lowly.

“Baby I know, I’m sorry the only reason why I am still a Jedi is so I can provide for you and your expenses. You know you aren’t cheap” he said as he smiled.

“But I am here now and I’ll make it up to you, I promise” he said as attached his lips back to your neck.

“don’t ever use your fingers again love that’s what my cock is for” he muttered as he guided your hand to his raging bulge.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for days”

“Really?” You said as you giggled, you wanted him to prove himself.

He didn’t say a word as he threw you back on the bed signifying how serious he was about it.

Part 2??? With smut 😩?

[pokemenlovingmen]

ur writing has truly captivated my attention, i truly adore how you characterize everyone, and thats not yet reading your other writing requests AAAAA!!!! im just!! wow cat eyes wide holding these fics in my hands gently

if its alright, im a little embarrassed to ask so quickly, could i ask for more general loving teasing for adaman? just flustering him (by blatantly flirting with him if anything) sounds like a fun time tbh msbdndb

I’m sorry I didn’t respond to this sooner, I wanted to, but since it had a request attached I waited on the post. But thank you so much!! You guys are for real SO NICE, like for as many specifics and rules as I have for requesting and interactions I’ve pulled such a kind and supportive audience. I usually write full fics in my spare time, but it’s been hard to finish any project so these headcanon list type things are good to keep the creative juices flowing, and I’m so flattered that what I basically use as practice pieces are things you like so much!!! You guys are so kind!!! I’m glad you like my stuff so much!! We gays are in this together!

And Adaman requests are always speaking my language, I’ve never been as down biblically bad for a man in a Pokemon game as I have that guy <3

Teasing and Flirting w/ Adaman!

💎 — Adaman is pretty hard to shake up, not that he’s stoic, but more that he’s just so laid-back and being raised into this clan leadership position, it’s second nature for him to just be ready to react to anything.

💎 — And if someone he didn’t have feelings for tried teasing or flirting with him, he’d probably just smile, totally oblivious to their true intentions because he’s got a million things on his mind and any attraction for that person isn’t one of them. He just won’t think anything of it.

💎 — But coming from a person he is romantically inclined towards, however…

💎 — Well, he might laugh a lot more at your jokes. You might catch him running a hand through his hair with surprising regularity. Like he’s nervous or something…

💎 — He’ll usually do that classic narrow-eyed Adaman Look towards you when he realizes you’re trying to get a rise out of him. Well, ha! He’s the leader of the Diamond Clan, and he’s more strong-willed than that, thank you very much.

💎 — But okay, you’re really testing him. He’s good at keeping his voice steady, but if you’re around other people there’s no mistaking how his face tints just sliiiightly pink when you talk.

💎 — Walk up to him and twirl his hair while he’s just talking to someone or even just minding his own business, he’ll whip around and give you a MASSIVE glare.

💎 — Hugs from behind really fluster him. If you wrap your arms around his waist the first thing that kicks in is the “defend myself from wild Pokemon” instinct, and once he realizes it’s only you he’ll just scowl and try and ignore you.

💎 — The “scowl and try to ignore you” is a regular technique of his that usually doesn’t work. Of course, you know him well enough to tell the difference between when he’s flustered and actually mad. Adaman’s face doesn’t go all red when he’s angry.

💎 — He’ll take your first few flirtatious comments in stride but the thicker you lay it on, the less dignified his responses get.

“Do you know how pretty you are?”

“Why, yes, I did! Thank you for noticing, S/O.”

“You’re soooo cute when you smile.”

“Did you mean handsome? I don’t think a clan leader is meant to be ‘cute’.”

“You have the sweetest laugh ever, I want to hear it more.”

“Very sweet of you, but we’re in public!”

“If I kiss this spot behind your ear, you get all red and it’s the cutest thing ever, look…”

“Eh?! Can’t this wait for somewhere more private??”

💎 — Funny thing is, Adaman does a lot of teasing himself. He’s suave, confident, and charming, being teasy and flirtatious is just second nature. But if there’s one thing that’s also true about Adaman, is he CANNOT take what he dishes out. His flustered reactions to your teasing are pure and simple embarrassment. He’s nervous about looking too soft.

💎 — He’s never been in a relationship before, much less one with a man, and he has a lot on his shoulders as clan leader. Romantic interactions, all that playful couple stuff, it’s all so new to him and being on the receiving end of it just. Short circuits him. It’s why you find him so fun to fluster, and also why he forgives you so quickly—it’s just some harmless fun and your little way of nudging him to relax a bit in your relationship.

💎 — And he understands and appreciates that! He loves the flirting, deep down, he just has literally no idea how to react to it. Feelings?? Help?? Man calling me pretty make my heart go thump??

💎 — When you two are finally somewhere remotely private, he drags you off by the arm with a “what was that?!”

💎 — You just wink at him and tell him he’s so cute, it’s just hard to help yourself sometimes.

💎 — He’s also very weak to winking. That suaveness sweeps him off his feet.

💎 — When he does get you alone while you’re still in that flirty, teasey mood, he’ll probably scold you a bit and try as hard as he can to be mad at you—which he isn’t, because he’s a pushover and also this attention just tickles his heart in the best way.

💎 — But after he gets done sulking… he might scoot a little closer to you and shyly ask if you could talk like that with him again, or be playfully affectionate again, it really did feel good.

💎 — Just stop doing it while he’s trying to handle clan business!! You HARLOT. (affectionate)

💎 — But hey, you’ll get him to loosen up eventually. Until then, it’s pretty funny to watch him struggle to conjure up a proper reaction to you being this way.

(This all came out incredibly sexual-sounding which wasn’t the intent at all… my apologies. The harlot thing was a dramatic jab but nothing was intended as sexual here, Adaman getting flustered was just him getting flustered, nothing more. That ended up being really challenging to convey though, I’m sorry. ;;)

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hello! It’s the Kanao anon again. I know I’ll said I’ll wait for a bit, but my mind is super fixated on the wonderful way you wrote. This will probably my last request for a bit as I’ll be busy, but can you please do a continuation of Kanao x Jealous Male Reader, with maybe the Reader/Dokusha telling Kanao of their feelings and just how much she meant to them? Thank you, and please take your time!

Oooh! Okay, I can definitely try this and I know exactly how to end it! It’ll be perfect! Thank you for the Kanao ask, it was nice to write for solo Kanao

Tsuyuri Kanao- Feeling Flop

“Hey… Tsuyuri, can I tell you something?” You spoke softly, effectively breaking the slight uncomfortable silence built up as that single request had Kanao turning around and tilting her head in curiosity. Huh? What do you want to tell her? She isn’t the best when it comes to keeping secrets or talking about problems? Sure, she really does care for you and your health but if something is wrong, she doesn’t feel like she is good enough to be relied on

However, she could never reject you in any sense. You mean so much to her so she lets out a instinctive soft yet beautiful smile and averted her body from the side to facing you, to show you that she is paying all her focus onto you. You two were eating lunch together in a patient wait for the other three slayers, Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Inosuke to be finished with their vigorous training

Even if Tanjiro was a nice boy and you wouldn’t doubt that he has much likability, you couldn’t stand him and you were beyond jealous of him. He won your longterm crush, Kanao over like that with no issue whilst you had been trying to catch her attention from the very beginning. Weren’t you kind enough? What did Tanjiro have? Are you really not that good enough as a man or as a boyfriend?

“Yes, Dokusha?” Kanao smiled gently, shuffling the bento off her lap so she could better pay attention to you. Taking a deep breath to stabilise your rapidly beating heart, a half of you couldn’t believe you were about to actually admit how much you like him, how much she means to you and how long you have been hiding everything for. Kanao was rather nervous, what were you going to say to her?

Were you done with being her friend now… she seriously hoped that wasn’t the case as after a few more seconds, you finally begun to speak

“I… I really like you, Kanao”

… What?!

Kanao’s gorgeous pastel purples widened in shock at you as her hands clutched together to try suppress her amazement, she could tell exactly what you meant without you needing to describe it. Love, you love her?! Is she hearing things? This must be some weird joke or prank!

“Like… more than as a friend. I’ve liked you ever since we met… ever since we’ve been training together under Ms. Kocho. You may think you don’t have any personality but you do, you’re compassionate, you’re protective, you want all of us to be safe. You’re a wonderful person and… I can’t help myself. I love you, Tsuyuri Kanao, I want you to know that…”

Your cheeks were burning with flustered rosy red as you kept fiddling with your thumbs. Finally getting this piece of truth off your shoulders was like being able to kick off such a heavy weight from your chest. The light-hearted, light-headed feeling was like heaven. You knew you may have messed up your years of friendship with her but you were willing to adapt

Anything to be able to stay in her life as you gazed at her with hopeful, curious eyes. Your gaze made her feel even more prickly. Not a good prickly, she didn’t know what this feeling was but she didn’t want to feel it. Was it rejection? She did like you, you’re amazing but… she also likes Tanjiro… and a lot. She just kept looking at you with slightly parted lips, her brain skipping over repetitively to try come up with something

Shit… what does she say? She doesn’t know, she doesn’t know how to answer. Should she flip a coin to decide?

[zedif-y]

Have you ever written anything with both Skizz and Gem in it? (For the ask game, a friendship ship ask?)

I have! However, it's for a multichap i'm sadly not picking back up again :[ if anyone's interested in it, i may post more, but know that the chances of it being revived are slim to none . i wrote this with @casuallywritingandhyperfixating with the help of @wisepuma23 :]

so yeah! if enough people ask for it then i think i can post the chapters we've written (5... or 4 and a half) so it doesn't go to waste, just not on ao3. anyway, gem and skizz scene under the cut!

---

Once Skizz gets properly dressed and ready to socialize, he heads out and makes his way to Gem’s place. It’s a cute cottage, luckily not too far from them, with a small stable next to it. Tall, light-speckled trees hang over it, creeping vines going up the side of the house. Overgrown berry bushes frame the outside, just the right amount of wild— but Skizz is pretty sure all the greenery is a style choice. 

The berry bushes are smart, though, good at keeping mobs away. Brains and brawn, indeed.

Skizz steps up to the door, anxiety swirling in his stomach. Gem was going to indirectly make this decision for him, and he didn’t know if he hoped for a no or a yes. 

He knocks. Barking comes from inside in response, then footsteps. 

The door opens, and Skizz waves, “Hey, Gem!” Her eyes go wide, a giggle on her lips as he opens his arms for a hug, “How are ya?”

She accepts it easily, giving him a squeeze. “Hey, Skizz!” She chirps, “I’ve been doing good, how–” More barking cuts her off, and she looks over her shoulder into the house, “Hush, Winnie, it’s just Skizz!” 

The dog barks a couple more times, then stops. Gem turns back to Skizz, grinning sheepishly, “Sorry about that.” 

Skizz shakes his head, “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry to bother you on the weekend.” 

Gem steps back, waving a hand as she replies, “It’s alright! How can I help you?” She holds the door open, “Come in! We can talk inside.” 

Skizz follows her in, taking a seat on one of her couches. The living room is a cozy, warm space, beautifully decorated… Though maybe he could make do without some of the animal heads.

(Gem’s awesome, really. Gem is great. Just uh… What’s her deal with beheading things?)

Skizz tears his eyes away. Above the fireplace sits a large, heavy-looking iron sword. He doesn’t need magic to tell it’s enchanted– it shimmers as he looks at it, thrumming with power.

She sits on the other, looking at him expectantly. Ah, right.

Here goes nothing.

“I received a letter,” Skizz says cautiously, “And I might need to go somewhere. I haven’t decided yet, though. It’s a week or two just to get there, and I don’t know how long I’ll stay.” He pauses, gauging her reaction. “And if I do go, I need someone to take care of the village.” 

“And I’m the candidate to fill that role?” Gem guesses. 

Skizz nods. “You’re… the only other skilled healer, even if it’s only been a few months. I was wondering if you’d be willing to take my place for a bit, dude.” 

A few moments pass, each second making his anxiety ratchet up like crazy–

“Okay,” Gem says, making him blink. “Yeah, yeah, I think I could do that,” She adds. “I mean, I know how to do all the day-to-day stuff, and you’ve taught me well.” 

“Are you sure?” Skizz asks, honestly a little baffled. He’d thought it’d take a bit more than that— “It’ll be a lot more work, and if anyone calls on you for an emergency, you have to be prepared.” 

Gem is nodding before he finishes. “I know, Skizz,” She replies, smiling. Gods bless her, “I got this! I’ve… kinda been wanting a chance to really test myself, you know? Not that I want anything to happen, just… I’m here if you need me to step up.” 

Skizz chuckles. “Alright! Well, this is that chance, for sure. If you do come across anything you don’t understand, especially magic-wise, feel free to drop by and borrow some of my books. Joker will still be home, he can point you to the ones you need. You can use my office too!” He pauses, then, “Uh… don’t worry about the paperwork. I’ll get to that someday. Oh, and—” 

“Skizz!” Gem laughs, putting a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I can do this.” 

Skizz relaxes, laughing with her. “Thanks, Gem. This helps a lot.” 

“Of course! I’ll make sure everyone here is nice and healthy, don’t worry,” Gem assures him. 

Skizz smiles. She’ll make a perfect cleric. 

“Okay! Yeah, I think I’m good!” Gem tells him, “I’ll go over the supplies this afternoon, so you don’t need to worry about that, either.” Skizz nods and stands, stepping towards the door.

Gem follows, waving him goodbye as she says, “Be safe out there, Skizz. And enjoy your trip!” 

“Seriously dude, thanks,” Skizz says, giving her a smile as she closes the door. His heart clenches as he walks away. 

Enjoy your trip. 

He’d try, there was bound to be a lot of new scenery, with that long of a travel. But… Something tells him it’s not gonna be all butterflies and roses. 

Something twists and writhes in his chest, anxiety bubbling in his veins. Skizz steels himself, letting out a breath.

“Of course it’s not gonna be easy,” Skizz mutters to himself, rolling his shoulders, shaking his head. “But you know what? You know what?”

He furrows his brow, “I can take it. Whatever happens, I can take it.”

I mean, come on, Skizz thinks, eyes trained forward. It’s not like I’ve lived this long and learned nothin’!

And then, quieter, it would’ve haunted me anyway, if I didn’t go. The last thing I need is another regret.

The anxiety doesn’t fade, not by a long shot. But as Skizz trudges back home, he finds it isn’t enough to stop him, worries and what-ifs be damned. A small smile tugs at his lips.

He’s always been pretty stubborn, huh?

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It’s Winter! Have a great week! Throwing it back to the beginning-ish of their intimacy.

Protection

“Wait! Wait!” Brigitte warned as she slammed her legs together.

He couldn’t believe she was stopping now of all times. Her timing couldn’t be worse.

“What’s wrong?” Emmanuel asked, resting his head on her breasts. He hadn’t miscalculated things, had he? Brigitte had been just as ready & willing as he was. It wasn’t their first time either. So, why was she suddenly hesitant?

“Do you have protection?” She whispered ever so quietly, even though they were the only two people in his bedroom.

He sat up, horrified. “Protection? Like a condom?”

Brigitte nodded. “Yes, I need to protect myself.”

Emmanuel swiftly removed himself from on top of her, rushing to put his boxers back on. She was aware of his sexual history (it was a very short list). “What do you need protection for? You know where I’ve been! This isn’t our first time, honey.”

Brigitte ogled his erection through his shorts. That glorious piece of meat would have been inside her if she didn’t say anything. But safety came first.

“I know that, but I need to be careful. It’s not likely… but there’s always the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy.” Brigitte admitted. A baby at her age wasn’t impossible. In fact, she recently read an article about women giving birth in their 40s.

Emmanuel hissed. “Do you use protection with him?”

Brigitte’s silence told him everything he needed to know.

Finally, she spoke up, unable to look him directly in the eyes. “It’s different. He’s my husband.”

The mood had been killed, the romantic evening was ruined. Emmanuel paced back and forth in front of the bed.

She hadn’t found an opportunity to tell him that she and her husband (if she could even call him that anymore) stopped being intimate a while ago.

However …

Unbeknownst to her young boyfriend, she recently had a pregnancy scare that shook her to her core. About a month ago, Brigitte had panicked when she realized she was a week - 9 days to be exact - late. Eventually, her period arrived and everything went back to normal. But there was absolutely no denying that Emmanuel would have been the father. Things were already hard enough for him with his parents. She would never complicate his life with a baby. “Emmanuel, please. Can we just be more careful?” Brigitte pleaded. “I’m not saying we need to stop what we’re doing.”

“Fine…” He took a deep breath. “I have a box of condoms in my sock drawer.” He explained. They had stopped using protection a few months ago, but he always kept a box - just in case.

“Thank you.” She smiled gratefully.

Soon, she’d tell him everything. Emmanuel deserved to know he was the only man in her life now….And how close he came to becoming a father.

Hellooo Winter! ❤��

Protection is always a good idea but Brigitte, don’t let the guy suffer not knowing the reason... or even continue to think you still have something with your husband... girl!!!

In my head, they found a way to get back into the mood and finish what they started 🤭😏

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[sojournerdiraq]

Cold Circuit Scene: Negotiations

of course, every cycberpunk novel needs a turning point where the MC works for an entity way shadier than them: Cyberpunk 2077 has Dexter DeShawn and Neuromancer has Armitage.

Here's mine, Galatea, lead researcher of the Yggdrasil Project of Marren International:

Silverhands: @thatqueerweirdo @foyle-writes-things

Let me know if you wish to be added or removed!

The smell of lavender awakens me once more.

This time, it is accompanied by a steady beeping that rises in pitch.

“You’re awake,” Galatea’s voice notes, “your vitals seem steady. So do your enhancements. The data we have collected thus far has been corrupted, though. How unfortunate.”

“The hell happened back there?”

My voice is hoarse, and I find myself in desperate need of water.

“Unknown,” Galatea responds, “I am looking into it now.”

The woman taps a few more keys into her tablet, and it strikes me just how…polished it seems, as though the grip itself were designed for her fingers and her fingers alone.

“We will have to begin anew.” Galatea’s thin lips curl slightly downwards in a(n) (adjective) motion, an elegant mimicry of a scowl.

Again with her unsettling gracefulness. Galatea places a finger behind her ear once more and lapses into silence, before tilting her head slightly to the right. A moment passes, and her rounded cheekbones reappear once more, before retreating into her face 

“There is a request I’d like to ask of you, on behalf of Eleanor Marren herself.” Galatea announces

“And why do you think I’d lick the boot of a woman who would discard me as soon as I’ve finished jerking off her ego?” I mutter, allowing my disdain to spring forth

“We would reward you handsomely.”

“I don’t want no fucking reward. Rather stick my hand in a meat grinder.”

“There is no need to be vulgar, Sibyl.”

“Or else what? Worried about how your superiors’ll react?”

“There are some—”

“Don’t give half a shit. Listen, Gal, there are very few asses I’m willing to kiss, and Eleanor Marren isn’t one of ‘em.”

Galatea pauses, seemingly considering my words. 

“I see,” she answers, “you value your independence.”

“The fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“Might I interest you in an…arrangement?”

I sit up, ignoring the erratic pounding in my head.

“What do you suggest?” I ask. I remain skeptical, as Marren International isn’t really known for its honesty or integrity or all that.

However… there just might be something to gain if I dance to their stupid tune.

“Assist us in…cleaning up some messes before the media learns of it, and we will assist you in the recuperation of your memories. Are we clear?”

How did she know I’m…

“Three month contract,” I begin, “at the end of the three months, you let me go with my memories intact.”

“Would you not like financial compensation?”

“I…”

I can finally pay off my debts. I can help fix up La Mano de Plata. I can pay Mama Zoraya back for everything she’s done for me.

I can drive Marren International to the brink of destruction.

“Twenty thou, per gig.” I state.

“That seems a bit exorbitant.”

“Unless, of course, you’ve got an AI that’s set to replace and enhance the delicate science of neurocryptography.”

“Ten thousand.” Galatea begins. Her voice remains calm, level, even in the midst of negotiation.

How amusing

“Seventeen thou.”

“Fifteen thousand, final offer.”

Fuck it, man. Should be more than enough for me.

“Deal. where do I sign?”

[magnus-sm-writes]

Short Story Update: End of 2023

Believe it or not, when I’m not writing novels, I’m typically working on short fiction. I know I talk a lot about my poetry—and believe me, I do write quite a few poems—, but I’ve been trying to work on my short fiction since October of last year. 

What really got me going was the realization that it had been a full year since my last (and only, as of writing this) short story was published. “The Ghost You Left Behind” was published in Coffin Bell’s October 2022 issue. I got a little panicky about that (I think I cried). I’d put off both writing and attempting to submit short stories for quite some time due to the hectic events of my 2023. In short, I needed to do something. I was getting antsy.

I realized I needed to challenge myself more. Constraints equal creativity for me. It’s about testing myself, pushing to see if I can still write to a prompt or not.

This update showcases two short stories of mine: “The Boy & the Hag Stone” and “Plastic Fangs”. 

Out of both of them, you might think that “Plastic Fangs” was written first. But I actually began “The Boy & the Hag Stone” in October, and didn’t begin writing “Plastic Fangs” until December. What can I say? I’m a spooky boy year-round, except when it’s spooky season. Then I’m just a regular boy.

For both of these stories, I was inspired by visuals. Honestly, for any story, I am inspired by visuals. I don’t think in words; I think in pictures.

For “Hag Stone”, I was thinking a lot about the stone in Coraline. That cool little guy is actually rooted in beliefs that hag stones protected you from evil, and that looking through one could reveal hidden evils. Not exactly how it’s used in the movie, but I’m willing to give it a pass because I’m a sucker for a good Laika movie. I was also inspired by how much I personally hate wearing shoes. (I work in an office, and my coworkers know that I am most focused without my shoes on.)

“Plastic Fangs” was fun because it was my Halloween piece. (Just two months late on that, as always.) I had this idea of a scene where a vampire went as himself for Halloween. Not a very original idea, I know, but I was so inspired that I drafted the story in less than two days, and wrote a second draft in just as much time. 

(This is why I thought I could easily finish 2 short stories in the month of February. Which I did not do.)

These stories flowed from me with an ease that felt almost surreal. It was truly incredible. Perhaps that was because I had just gotten my full-time job and was finally able to stick to a schedule. Writing around an hourly work schedule was difficult for me because it was so unpredictable. However, with my work hours set (and by virtue of that, my writing hours set as well), I can easily finish more writing now than I could before, when I had objectively more time to finish things.

Both of these stories were fun additions to my growing collections of stories with fantastical elements. 

“The Boy & the Hag Stone” is about Rishi, a man who’s a little directionless in life, and the strange man he meets called Banshee. Banshee is the biggest manic pixie dream boy I’ve ever written. Quite frankly, I want to write more for him, even though he’s a very difficult person to write dialogue for. 

It is a little over 5000 words, though it needs some serious revisions. Somewhere in the middle, the style completely changes. I was going for a vaguely fairytale-esque vibe, in honor of the professor who encouraged me to write fantasy once again. It didn’t exactly work the first time around. Hopefully, a second pass will allow me to salvage the idea, because I think it fits the tone quite well. Banshee is mysterious enough to be a small-town folk legend. Funnily enough, that is my ultimate goal in life. 

My quote for “Hag Stone” is from Coraline, of course: “I think most things are pretty magical, and that it’s less a matter of belief than it is one of just stopping to notice.” I think that describes Banshee’s outlook on life perfectly. It’s not only that he himself is magical: he believes the world is full of magic, and that he’s just more attuned to it than the average person. 

What I love most about “Hag Stone” is that Rishi is just as willing to go along with Banshee’s weirdness as I would be. He’s having a far more interesting early-twenties crisis than I did. Mine ended (I think) when I became an administrative assistant; Rishi’s ended when he met a man who could see the future. We are not the same. 

EXCERPTS

His mother had swallowed a hag stone when she was pregnant, they say. He blew through town for a wedding. Though his name was Ian, they called him Banshee. 

Banshee came into people’s lives just as they needed him and left like a ghost. He was wild and unkempt, save for the polished stone around his neck, and had blank, colorless eyes like asphodels. I was a fool to let him sieve through my fingers, but I know I’ll see him again.

For some reason, I thought he would taste earthy. Like a mouthful of dirt, or of sand. Rotting leaves. Or like a mouthful of sugar. Pure and sweet. Like home, turmeric and sweat and heat, or home, wood polish and vanilla perfume and fresh laundry, or home, dust and stale noodles and horse. Banshee tasted like none of that, but somehow made me think of all of it. He tasted like a new home I could slip into. 

Songs I listened to while writing “Hag Stone”:

Haunted House - Florence + the Machine

Nobody - Mitski

Almost (Sweet Music) - Hozier

I Will Wait - Mumford & Sons

The second short story, “Plastic Fangs”, is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Marcellus is a vampire on the hunt for a lover and a good meal all in one. He finds that in Abel. But all is not as it seems.

It’s a rather wordy short story at 5800 words. The ending is the shakiest part. That much is typical of how I write short stories. (That is: with no ending in mind, only what feels natural.) 

“Plastic Fangs” was one of those works I finished in two days at most. I actually began writing the second draft before I finished the first. Marcellus experienced such dramatic character development in the middle of the story that I just had to change the beginning because it didn’t fit anymore. Originally, he was just a run-of-the-mill, angst-filled vampire. Now he’s just a strange person that reads people’s diaries to learn their deepest secrets. For a dead guy, he’s full of life.

Abel is a good contrast for Marcellus. He’s a little angsty, pretty lost. Marcellus has had a lot of time to figure himself out; Abel hasn’t. That’s what makes their dynamic so interesting to me, I think. They have different life experiences. 

I’m certain that “Plastic Fangs” will take far less time to edit than “Hag Stone”. For one, it’s already had one round of edits. I also didn’t take any risks with the prose. It’s a pretty typical example of my style. I could see “Plastic Fangs” and “The Ghost You Left Behind” taking place in the same world. They have the same sort of vibe to them. 

The quote for this short story is from Rachelle Lefevre: “The thing I love about vampires that I find so fascinating is that, unlike other sci-fi creations, they aren't monsters from the get-go, they're human beings first... and so what kind of human you are would dictate what kind of vampire you would be.”

EXCERPTS

In October, Marcellus’ penchant for the dramatic—that which made him what he is today—gets to come center stage as he attends various costume parties, parades, festivals. He buys a set of flimsy plastic fangs that sit strangely in his mouth. Tacky in a charming way. An amateur stage adaptation of Dracula. 

Marcellus loved performing Doctor Faustus in the troupe. We understand Faustus better than nearly anyone, Julius said, because we’ve already sold our souls for profane power. He understands making selfish decisions; Faustus was only his favorite because Julius got to be affectionate as Mephistophilis. 

Abel has a small, blown-out tattoo that might have once been a smiley face right above his hip.

Songs I listened to while writing “Plastic Fangs”:

Howl - Florence + the Machine

Waltz of the Bone King - Peter Gundry

Ravenous - Autumn Orange

Haunted House - Florence + the Machine

These two stories really helped drag me out of a writing slump. Moving into my parents’ house did a number on me mentally and creatively, and I only managed to get out of that when I began working full-time and forcing myself to go out more instead of succumbing to my depression as I was. I think you can tell that I was still pretty depressed when I wrote “Hag Stone”, even if it is a story about hope. 

My husband actually suggested I try turning “Plastic Fangs” into a book. I think there’s potential with that. These characters interest me so much that I want to do way more with them than I can within the parameters of a short story. I have a few scenes written for a larger project with them, but I’m not quite sure where that will take me. 

Please ask to be added to the taglist! I'm tagging @bardicbeetle, because Larkspur is and always will be my inspiration for writing weird shit about vampires. <3

[chroniclesofabooknerd]

January 16.2024

So, I've started on an extremely new project for the last few days now. And, while I'm not anywhere close to being done. I've come to a spot where I'm comfortable enough to drip feed my research and what will be coming within the next several days possibly within month or two it will be completely finished.

Have a read if you like!

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Is a SOW legally binding?



Benefits of using a statement of work

They are legally binding and pre-approved by the client, meaning the project is fully supported by all parties. They provide transparency into methods and processes for the project stakeholders. They reduce any confusion that may arise during a project.

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I've been doing some research on this to have a better understanding of the services that I want to provide to the Authors/Clients. I don't want any confusion on either end so I'm trying to be as transparent as possible. 

I myself love to read and blog about all things pertaining to books. Whether it be new releases, reviews in general, some publicity like cover reveals or excerpts. However, I don't want to get caught up with some type of legal situation because there was some type of misleading information along the way. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

I’ve consulted websites: Rocket Lawyer and Legal Zoom to make sure that I was following the right path. I have also taken out the time to research the do’s and the don’ts of being a Freelancer. I WILL NOT HARASS YOU. I HAVE THE RIGHT TO REFUSE/ DENY SERVICE & SO DO YOU. 

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So, having that said, I am in the process of creating a SOW for the services that I want to provide to Authors that would be interested. I'm very new at running my own thing and I want to share this food for thought.

It will be ME and only ME running everything (freelance) 

I can not accept things at the last minute -I'm giving each project the time length of a month. - Some may be finished before a month some may take longer than a month to do (that will be discussed in the SOW contract) 

I can't promise that my work will be the most impressive there is out there but I can promise that : I will give my undivided attention to your book. I will do my best to converse with you, the author, to let you know if I'm unable to finish the book or if I don't think the book would be a good fit for my blog. 

_________________________________________________________________________

Now, I'm going to talk a little bit about what I will and will not share on my blog. And, I will inform you that I do operate several different blogs that are in different stages right now. My main blog is: rusticbooktravels.home.blog  and on there you can click on my Review Policy so you can see what I read and what I don't read. At one point I was trying just about every genre to see how it went, so that is why my list is so long. PLEASE read through that before sending me any type of inquiry for services. Upfront however I will say and this is as respectful as Im going to be about it.   DO NOT ON ANY CIRCUMSTANCES REQUEST THAT I READ BDSM, SMUT, or ROMANCE ( I only accept Romantic Suspense) DO NOT ON ANY CIRCUMSTANCES BULLY OR HARASS me into working on your book. I WILL NOT REPLY. IF at any point you become overbearing I will end services. 

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I don't want to sound mean and hateful. I don't want to give off any sort of bad vibes or bad juju. I just want to be straightforward with everything. And, as I said, this is all new to me. And, well, we all have to start somewhere don't we? If you're willing to join me on this journey I'd be more than happy to work with you. Even if you're just rooting for me from the sidelines. Any and all support is very much appreciated. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this. I'm sure there will be more updates to come!

Also, I don't know how many followers I have on here. I don't know if there are any authors on here or not but I would love to hear from like minded people.

If you want. You can hop over to > rusticbooktravels.home.blog

That's my main blog and you'll be able to click on the page titled - Literary Adventures to find out more. And again, please note this is a brand new project for me so I'm just now getting everything situated

[local-redhead-bookworm]

Okay, so I finally finished Rings of Power, and I have to concede, I was too harsh on it initially. It’s actually a really solid show, and it does a pretty good job of filling the gaps. A lot of the complaints I had either resolved themselves later on, or I realized were because they didn’t have rights to the Silmarillion and resigned myself to those discrepancies.

I really liked all the characters they added, but especially Disa, Bronwyn, and Arondir.

Adar and the Uruks are hands-down my favorite addition, because I’ve always been intrigued by the Orcs and thought, surely that isn’t all there is, surely they aren’t just pure evil. I like the direction they took Uruk culture.

I like the Harfoots and the Stranger too, kind of getting an origin story for Gandalf. Also seeing the start of Hobbit society.

I think they foreshadowed the Sauron reveal really well, I had Halbrand pinned as Sauron from episode two and “appearances can be deceiving.” The shots of him watching the forge, the way he took on four men at once, the ease with which he snapped a man’s arm, “call it…a gift,” it was all there. I knew enough lore that I was able to pick up the clues

All the actors are doing a fantastic job, and I really like the dynamics that all these characters have with each other.

The landscapes and cinematography are all beautiful, and Bear McCreary knocked it out of the park with the music.

I do have a few critiques:

The pacing drags a bit in some places. However, I am willing to let that slide because Tolkien’s own work is very slow-paced sometimes, and I like that it allowed us time to get acquainted with the characters.

The costuming could be better. I think that especially when it comes to the Elves, their clothes are too simple. Galadriel, Gil-Galad, and Celebrimbor are Noldor, and Elrond was raised by the Noldor. The Noldor are the really fancy-schmancy upper class Elves, so I think they should be in more ornate clothing, more jewelry. I also still haven’t forgiven the costume department for Miriel’s printed knit scale-mail pattern shirt.

I still strongly dislike the short hair on all the Elves. It works for Elrond, but everyone else…Finrod’s short hair did him such a disservice, Celebrimbor is…Celebrimbor. But they really missed an opportunity by not giving Arondir long hair. Ismael Cruz-Cordova would have simply been too powerful with long braids, I guess.

I do think Charles Edwards is too old to play Celebrimbor. Don’t get me wrong, he plays the role very well, but given how young Morfydd Clark looks as Galadriel, Celebrimbor looks far too old.

I think there are times that the dialogue tries to be grand and just comes out awkward. “There is a tempest in me” and “Whenever I speak, his ears close up.” “So speak louder.” were the two most obvious instances. It’s not terrible all around, but I think the dialogue just falls flat in some places.

Also I still wanna know, what happened to Celeborn? If he went missing in action, then is he just gonna turn up some time later in the show with a whole lot of trauma, like Celebrian?? Where is Celeborn???

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

i’ve no control over myself and went and saw batman once again 🥲 y’all the iron grip he got on my fucking throat ain’t no damn joke… and that fucking car GoTDdAYyUM! 🥴 so here we fucking go 👹 long as shit battinson thirst on the fucking menu

—

Bruce often came home locked up tight and incredibly tense from a hard night out as Gotham’s caped crusader. But it was more often would he take out the tension in his body through you, in any way he needs. Quite a lucky find you were if he were to ever be honest about how much he actually cared about you. Willing and ready for anything and everything he may need or want, even more often would you find yourself bound, gagged and blindfolded on the soft, silken sheets of his large bed. Ass high in the air just for him —at the expense of his desperate need for control over anything and everything in his life… you included— back arched, and shoulders on the sheets.

However, there were times few and far between when he’d barely be able to control himself long enough to get up to his bedroom from the underbelly of Wayne Manor. And you found yourself being dicked down raw either up against his car or lying across the seats. Which is how you found yourself now, frontside pressed harshly up against the cool metal of his car, arm behind your back with your wrists held tight in an iron grip of one hand. The other occupied keeping one leg up and pinned against the car just about as high as he could stretch it. And his thick cock tearing apart your insides with little remorse, thrusting savagely as he chased his high that seemed to continue to be just out of reach. Feral in his fucking he was whenever he had to take you down there instead of up in his bedroom.

He’d bite hard, and he’d grip even harder. Bruises from his deft fingers holding any of your skin tightly against him. And teeth leaving purple and red colored marks up and down your neck, and all across the planes of your shoulders. There was an occasional proclamation of possession that slipped off his slick tongue, as it slaved up and down your neck sensually. A murmured “mine” growling into the hot skin of your throat or jaw, just before his hard teeth were biting yet again. Abnormally sharper canines leaving especially deep marks, times few and far between would they actually puncture through the first layer of skin. A sharp crack of pain shooting down your back, followed quickly by a shudder of pleasure as he licked over the wound in aggressive apologies. Pleasure that shucked through your body like lava before finding home in your throbbing loins.

Sometimes he’d often fuck so hard you’d have passed out by the time he was finished, and while you slumbered exhausted he’d do well to take good care of you. Carry you up to his home, cleanse you delicately and gently lay you in his bed before cleaning up himself and joining you moments later.

Yes, he may not be open about his feelings or whatever horrors overtake his mind in those rare moments of vulnerability. But he was sure of one thing… and that was you, an outlet for sex and a way to get his frustrations out… but also a confidant, and a rock he count on, lean on and depend on. And as he held you tightly and possessively against him, lovingly kissing the marks he left behind he figured he’d do just about anything to keep you in his life.

For better or worse.

—

/🦎

*Literally dies*

[danielsdecanter]

beautifully unconventional - part five

pairing: daniel ricciardo x f!singer reader

warnings: smut (phone sex, masturbation, allusions to m!receiving oral sex and penetrative sex), language, pet names (baby, baby girl, sweetheart), sprinkle of praise kink????

word count: 2.4k

summary: daniel ricciardo is famously a music fan. you’re the lead singer of one of his favourite bands. match made in heaven - right?

author’s note: i’m baaaaack! this chapter was originally meant to be so much longer but i was stressing myself out with it’s prospective length so i’ve split it! i’ve got a lot of pure fluff planned for the next chapter before we start to get a bit tetchy, so enjoy! this is unbeta’d so please excuse any spelling/grammar errors and as always, any feedback is welcome!! 

for the second weekend in as many weeks, you’re back on your sofa watching daniel zip around interlagos. it’s only fp2, but you’re watching the times like a hawk, nodding encouragingly to no one but yourself as he finds himself comfortably within the top 5 - a good sign, you’ve come to learn.

what you can’t quite get your head around however, is just how… awake he seems to be. frequent travel and timezone jumping aren’t foreign concepts to you, but you still get hit for six after a long-haul flight, never mind two in the space of a few days. you let your mind drift to what you’d be doing if you were in brazil with him, and every eventuality led to you being back in your hotel room catching up on sleep. the way in which he bounced between interviewers after the session was over, was not the behaviour of a tired man - that was for sure. either way it made you smile to yourself, the knowledge that he was happy and having a good time more than enough for you. 

saturday comes around quickly, and soon you’re watching qualifying. if daniel’s times the day before were anything to go off, he was in with a good shout of making it to q3, and finishing well at that. however you still found yourself holding your breath as the clock ticked down at the end of each round, only exhaling when you knew he was safe. 

he gets p4 - p-fucking-4 - and you’re pretty sure your cheeks will be aching in the morning from the way you’re grinning like a cheshire cat, but you don’t care. the boy’s done good. 

you send him a well done text, but give him strict instructions not to call you. you want to make sure he gets plenty of rest before the race, and you refuse to play any part in keeping him awake or occupied. the frowning selfie you receive in response is almost enough to break your resolve, but you fire a quick video back of you blowing him a kiss goodnight and all is well again. 

before you know it, it’s sunday and you’re back on your sofa. the blanket from last race however is long gone, as you practically bounce up and down in excitement. he makes a diving manoeuvre down the inside on his former teammate, max verstappen, to overtake him into p3 with just a few laps to go. you’re thankful for the thick, brick, victorian walls of your house as you quite literally scream at the tv, willing him to keep his foot down and finish the race cleanly - and he does it. 

you’re elated, practically bursting with pride as you watch him cross the line, the mclaren team leaning over the barriers to bring him home. as they play his radio from the end of the race, it’s a surprise to feel your eyes almost becoming wet with happy tears. you cast your mind back to the conversation you had in austin just a few weeks ago, at how despondent he’d sounded at times as he dwelled on the lows of the season. to hear him now, so overjoyed and giddy, made your heart burst. 

it also made you want to reward him, no matter how far away he was. 

you sat and watched the rest of the coverage, wanting to see as much of him as you could before the programme finished, him no doubt heading off to debriefs and team celebrations. despite it now being late evening in london, you were wide awake, thriving on the excitement and thrill the race had brought you. heading upstairs, you knew what you both needed and wanted to do. 

grabbing your phone, you sent him a quick text. 

‘you’re a bloody superstar! you deserve a treat for doing so well 🧡’

you figured he was still in meetings, so didn’t expect a reply straight away, which gave you plenty of time to prepare said ‘treat’. after getting in from your farmer’s market run that morning, you’d spent most of the day in one of dan’s t-shirts from your every growing collection and a soft pair of pants, forgoing any real bottoms in the comfort of your own home. nipping into your bathroom, you added a quick coat of mascara to your lashes and a slick of lip gloss, before picking up your phone again and opening the camera app.

of course the treat was you. 

taking the hem of the t-shirt, you pulled it up across your stomach, holding it just under your breasts, positioning it in a way in which there’d be enough underboob to leave his mouth watering. cocking your hip to the side to accentuate your curves, you snapped a few pictures, sure to keep them tasteful enough that (should they ever leak) you wouldn’t have to be worried about being thrown to the dogs that was the sexist press. once you were happy with your selection, you wandered back through to your bedroom, flopping onto the bed to review your work, choosing your favourite to send onto daniel. 

it wasn’t hard to pick, and you were certain he’d love it. you had a coy smile on your face, but your eyes were crinkled, almost as if you were laughing. to you, it was the perfect mixture of alluring and personal. flicking back to your messages, you spotted a reply sitting there. 

‘you’ll make me blush, sweetheart. in engineering debrief right now, i’ll call you in a bit x’ 

patience was never your strong suit. 

hitting send on the picture, you grinned to yourself as you sank back into the pillows, fighting the temptation to check your phone to see if there was a reply. it wasn’t long until you heard the vibrations of your phone, and you snatched it up quickly to check.

‘you’re going to get me in trouble, you know that?’

time for another picture. you stayed in bed this time, slipping the t-shirt up higher than before to reveal your tits. draping your free arm over them, you let the smallest hint of a nipple peak through your fingers, as you snapped more pictures of yourself between the sheets. again, picking your favourite was a reasonably simple task, and the wait between your messages was even shorter, as you fired the message off with a simple:

‘who, me?’

you let your hands absently trail around your body as you wait for his reply, fingernails lightly brushing your thighs, your stomach, your breasts. you’re thinking of him the whole time, your eyes closed as your mind drifts back to that night in austin - a memory you’re incredibly familiar with by this point. you’re about to dip below the elastic of your underwear when your phone starts to buzz, a smug grin on your lips when you see it’s daniel calling. 

you answer in a heartbeat. 

“hello superstar” you breathe, before he can say a word. 

“you’re a little terror, you realise that?” 

“i told you you deserved a treat, didn’t i?”

he laughs. 

“babe, i just had to sit firmly under the desk during debrief when i saw those pictures, you’re a pest.”

“oh, but you love it” you don’t pay too much attention to the gravity of the words. 

“maybe so…” he clears his throat before continuing. “are you still in bed?” 

“ah huh…” you say, doing your best to keep your tone light, teasing. you hear a door close. was he back in his driver’s room? 

“take the t-shirt off for me?” his voice is low like he doesn’t want to be heard, which somehow makes it even more thrilling.

you hum a little affirmative noise and begin to squirm out of it, slipping the phone onto speakerphone as you do to free up your hands. 

“love it when you wear my clothes by the way…” he continues, and you grin, letting your hands restart their exploration of your skin. “makes me feel like you’re mine”

“i can be…” your voice cracks with a hint of a moan as you catch a nipple, pinching it slightly and then the other. you’re almost certain you can just hear the clink of a belt buckle and a zip unfastening. 

“good…” he groans. you grin to yourself. you’re sure he’s now touching himself too. 

“i wish i was there, dan…” finally you let your fingers dip into your underwear, which you quickly shimmy out of. as they brush your clit you let out a soft yelp, the bundle of nerves already sensitive after what had felt like an eternity of teasing. “i’d take such good care of you..”

there’s a sound that seems to come from deep within his throat, almost like he’s swallowing down a noise that would otherwise be much louder. “what would you do babe, tell me…”

your fingers continue to lazily swirl around your clit, dipping down to your entrance to collect some of the juices that were already there. 

“think - think it’d only be fair for me to get on my knees for you…” raspiness coats your voice. “i’ve been thinking about how you’d feel in my mouth, what you’d taste like… i’d want to make you feel so good, always want to make you feel good”

you knew you were bordering on rambling, a side-effect of the waves of pleasure that were building in your core, but you didn’t care. 

“that sounds perfect, baby girl…” he replies, and you can’t help but smile happily at the praise falling from his lips. “what else…?” 

you hiss as you ease a finger inside yourself, quickly adding a second after a few teasing strokes. 

“i’d sit in your lap, ease myself down onto you so carefully…” you paused, only to gasp out a moan as the pads of your fingers began hitting the most perfect spot. “start moving my hips - slowly at first, and i’d lean down and kiss you, let you taste yourself. don’t think i could tease you for too long though, not when you’ve done so well. i’d go as fast or as slow as you wanted me to, and i wouldn’t stop until-” another cry, louder this time as you felt your thighs begin to quiver. “wouldn’t stop until you’d filled me up. then i’d stay there - just me and you. i’d just want to feel you” 

as you’d spoken, spilling your desires to him, daniel had made increasingly guttural sounds of approval, and you were certain your respective orgasms weren’t far away. 

“fuck, i wish you were here, sweetheart…” he groaned. 

you screwed your eyes together as you fought to hold it together. “daniel i can’t hold on much longer, i’m gonna cum…” your breaths were heavy, your chest heaving. 

“me too, babe… let go for me”

you didn’t need telling twice. within seconds your walls were clenching around your fingers, as you let out a cry of pure ecstasy. at that, daniel followed suit. you could hear him trying to stifle his noises. 

you lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath - you could hear daniel doing the same. if your mind hadn’t been so wrapped up in its post-orgasm haze, you’d have probably smiled at the way that you could still fall into a comfortable silence with one another, despite the thousands of miles and technology separating the two of you.

it was daniel who spoke first. 

“come to abu dhabi next weekend? please?”

you froze, not sure of what to say. you wanted to see him again more than anything, but appearing in the paddock with him, even briefly, would be sure to send the formula 1 gossip blogs into meltdown. 

“you want me there?” you asked, hesitation lacing your voice. 

“of course i do - do you not want to come?” your heart skipped at just how disappointed he sounded at that prospect. 

“no, no it’s not that. i’d love to be there. it’s just -” you faltered briefly, suddenly feeling vulnerable and silly so soon after being so intimate. “won’t there be questions if i just turn up and i’m seen with you? it’s not that i don’t want to, more - i don’t know - are you ready for that?” 

he sighs softly - “you’re right, that’s not fair on either of us.” 

a pause.

“what if the band came with me? that wouldn’t look as out of place - i mean, everyone already knows you like us”

“baby, you’re a genius” the grin was back in his voice, which only made your own face light up, as you pulled up the covers around yourself.  “i’ll speak to the right people to get your passes arranged - do you need any help with flights?” 

you couldn’t help but find the sudden shift to logistics after just making the other cum amusing, but you were also so excited at the thought of seeing him again that you brushed past it. 

“i’m sure we can get something sorted, don’t worry. feel like the guys might need a hand with accommodation, that’s assuming i’m staying with you..?”

daniel giggled - one of your favourite sounds. “baby, you’re not staying anywhere else…” 

tiredness was creeping up on you by the second as you nestled yourself further into the sheets. “i assume you’re flying straight there…?”

“you’re learning how this works very quickly, i’m impressed” he teased. 

“well i don’t exactly plan on going anywhere, so i figure i better get used to it” 

“that’s music to my ears, sweetheart” 

before you could even attempt to stifle it, you let out a long yawn, it becoming increasingly harder to keep your eyes open. 

“get your rest beautiful, just text me your email and i’ll the get the team to send everything through to you” 

“thank you, daniel…” you replied, voice thick with sleep. “i really am proud of you for today, you know?”

“i know. sleep tight…”

as the call cut off, you forced yourself to stay awake long enough to send him a quick text with your email address, before placing your phone on your nightstand and nestling deep into the pillows. all you could think about was seeing him in just a few days, a ghost of a smile on your lips as you drifted off to sleep, content in the realisation that this was your first pre-planned rendez-vous since you’d met. 

nothing like diving in at the deep end.

---

yourinstagram the best flights are lastminute.com

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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[enchantestuff]

promises - red bull Sebastian vettel

as I promised just complete fluff and no smut. our poor seb isn't appreciated enough so here is the four times Sebastian jokingly proposed to you and the one time he actually did 

NOT MY GIF

warnings; none really, fluff (btw this made me realise how TERRIBLE I am at writing fluff sorry <3 )

2.1k words, she's long

Sebastian was nervous about getting a new engineer, he so badly wanted to win a championship with Redbull and Christian had confided in him, telling him that this engineer and their new competitive car, would help him live out his dream of being a Formula One champion.

It was nearing the start of the new season and Sebastian had still yet to meet the person that he would be talking to under his most stressful moments and who he had to have full faith in while driving his car. He had begun to think that maybe he never would meet his new engineer when he received a call from Christian, telling him that they both would take place in a race for the Redbull youtube channel, where Sebastain and his new engineer would race against Mark and his, the twist being that the engineers would be the ones driving, not the drivers themselves. Sebastian agreed knowing that it would be a great way to remove any awkwardness between the two of you.

Only a few days later Sebastian was standing on a random racetrack, talking to Mark when he noticed Mark's engineer walking towards them with a beautiful young lady by his side, who Sebastian assumed was his very own engineer. “Hi! It's so nice to meet you Sebastian! My name's Y/N,” you cheerfully greeted him as you shook his hand.

A smile immediately appeared on Sebastian's face at your warm nature and he knew you two would get along just fine. “Please, call me Seb, '' he grinned as he brought a kiss to your knuckles, “now, are you ready to beat these idiots” he joked as he cocked his head towards your opponents.

“Oh, we are going to make a great pair, Seb” you joked as you accepted a helmet off Christian and climbed into the car, getting comfortable inside of the driver's seat.

“Are you a good driver?” Sebastian asked as he secured himself in the passenger's side of the car.

“I don't think I can call myself a good driver with a future Formula One champion sitting right next to me” you smiled as you drove the car to the start line. Sebastian smiled before he braced himself as the flag spun, indicating the start of the race. His head knocked against the headrest as you sped through the track, blocking Mark's engineer as he tried to overtake you and weaving through deadly corners with minimal braking.

It was when the car drifted across the finish line that Seb turned towards you with a wide grin plastered on his face, his heart was thumping hard in his chest with adrenaline. “Please marry me” he joked and you laughed as you high fived him, pleased with your small victory.

* * *

The atmosphere around the paddock was tense, the drivers championship standings were close. Sebastian could almost taste the victory, but he still had a lot of work to do. He had what he would consider a terrible qualifying and had spent the whole night before the race brainstorming ideas on how to improve his time, however nothing seemed to be working.

Everyone was stressed in the Redbull motorhome the following day, which was never something you liked to see, but you understood it as you too had a sleepless night. You pulled Seb to the side the minute you saw him and told him of the new strategy you dreamt up late last night. He was hesitant since it hadn’t been approved by anyone, but he was willing to take the risk if it meant he would win.

“Are you sure?” he had asked you, looking intently into your eyes.

You shook your head. “No not really, but I know you and I know you're the only driver that could make it work” you confided. You both stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Seb pulled you in for a hug, he gently stroked your back as he squeezed you into him. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and hugged him back with just as much force.

“I trust you” he whispered into your ear and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Good luck” you spoke as you gave him a final squeeze and pulled away. You bit your nails out of anticipation and shot Seb an encouraging grin as he climbed into his car.

The race went much better than expected and although Christian was furious that you didn't run the plan through him first, he was satisfied that Seb was currently P1 with a final lap to go. Your nerves were at an all time high throughout the race and you could feel the grin creeping onto your face as the end got closer and closer.

It was when Sebastian crossed the checkered flag that you let out a relieved laugh. “P1 Seb! P1! '' you grinned as you spoke to him through his earpiece.

“Ahhhh thank you, Y/N! Will you and your strategy marry me please?” he laughed

“Congratulations,” you smiled “I’ll see you up on the podium”

You practically ran to the podium with the rest of the team, grinning up at Sebastian as he lifted the trophy into the air and you could almost swear he was grinning right back at you. You clapped and hollered at him and a blush crept up your cheeks when you saw him mouth a “Thank you” in your direction.

* * *

It was inevitable that you and Seb would become close, but you two had a very different relationship compared to the other drivers and their engineers. While the other pairs spent their time going over the car's performance and new strategies, you spent yours pressed up against the wall of your office while Sebastian kissed you with as much force as he could muster. Your most heated and intimate moments were just after a race when he was full of energy and you were full of pride.

Behind closed doors you and Sebastian could almost be compared to lovers, but out in the public eye you two kept things strictly professional, which is why you were full of shock the night that Sebastain had won his title.

The whole Redbull garage and the majority of the drivers went out to celebrate Sebastian as well as an amazing season. You had congratulated him at the start of the night, you shared a quick kiss when you were sure nobody was looking and he had bought you a drink. You hadn't seen him since, however and spent the last few hours talking to random drivers and team principals.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you felt two hands land firmly on your waist. You turned your head to see a tipsy Sebastian Vettel smiling at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “And there's the main man himself,” you giggled as you turned around to face him.

“I missed you,” he blurted out as his hands travelled dangerously low for a public event.

“Did you?” you asked “you're the one that disappeared for an hour” you continued as you tapped his chest.

“Kimi wanted to take shots,” he grinned as one hand moved to cup your bum.

“Sebastian!” you scolded as you swatted his hand away.

“What? It's not like i've never done that before”

“Well yeah, but-but not in public’ you whispered as you looked around, wondering if anyone had noticed the exchange between the two of you.

“I want you,” Sebastian declared, suddenly looking much more sober as he stared into your eyes.

“Let's take this conversation outside” replied as you took a step away from him. Sebastian sighed as he took your hand and led you out the doors, he didn’t care who saw as you both walked by, he didn’t care about anything anymore, he was sick of hiding his feelings for you from everyone. He wanted people to know you were his, he wanted to hold your hand in the paddocks and kiss you for good luck before a race.

Sebastain could feel his heart hammering in his chest as you paced back and forth in front of him, your hands rubbing your arms for warmth. He took a step towards you and grabbed your face with his hands. “Look at me. I want to make us official” you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off “No listen to me. I need to say this. i don't want to sneakily glance at you during meetings anymore. I want to marry you one day. God! I want to marry you, Y/N! Is that not obvious?”

“Ok” you spoke, a blush rose to your cheeks and you cheekily grinned at him.

‘What?” Sebastian stuttered

“Let's make it official”.

* * *

You and Sebastian had been publicly dating for a little over a year and you were beyond happy. It was currently his birthday and you woke up early to make him breakfast. You both had celebrated the night before and you had to admit you were still sore but you wanted his day to be as special as him.

Sebastian tossed and turned in his sleep, frowning as he felt the cold sheets next to him instead of your warm body. His eyes fluttered open as his eyebrows furrowed. A smile soon made its way onto his face as he smelt the heavenly scent of breakfast. He turned to stand up but immediately sat back down at the sound of your voice. “No! Dont get up!” you pleaded and he laughed at the sight of you struggling to hold the breakfast tray in your hands.

“You shouldn't have, liebe” he muttered as he helped you place the breakfast tray on the bed.

“Maybe” you shrugged as you sat down next to him, “but I wanted to, now go on! Try it!” you encouraged as you practically shoved the plate into his face.

“Okay, okay” he laughed as he defensively put his hands up. You watched him as he put a fork full of food into his mouth, his eyes involuntarily shut as a quiet moan left his mouth. “Mmm marry me” he said once he swallowed the food.

“Is it okay?” you asked nervously as you played with your hands, it was your first time cooking for him and although it was just breakfast, you still wanted to make a good impression.

Sebastians head flipped in your direction, a shocked look plastered on his face. “It's better than okay, darling. Thank you. I love it. I love you”

Your heart fluttered once you heard those three words come out of his mouth. You grinned so hard that your cheeks began to hurt. “Oh god, please say something” he pleaded and he began to think that he spoke those words too soon.

“I love you, Sebastian” you spoke as you wrapped your arms around him and straddled his hips, placing kisses all over his face before finally collecting your lips.

* * *

It was yours and Sebastains anniversary but you both had decided that you wouldn't do anything special, you were just going to get takeout and watch a movie.

You pulled into the house with the food in your hands. You unlocked the door and called out to your boyfriend, “Honey, I’m home!” you joked, locking the doors behind you kicking your shoes off. You placed the food on the table next to the door and turned around, the sight in front of you shocking you as you let out a loud gasp.

Sebastian was kneeling on the floor with a ring in his hand, rose petals littered around him. You couldn't focus on the gorgeous dinner he had laid out on the table or the sweet music playing on the radio, you could only look at his glossy eyes and nervous face.

“Y/N, darling, I love you. I think i've loved you since I first laid eyes on you on that racetrack.” he laughed and looked down at the floor before connecting his eyes with yours again,”You have been with me through my lowest lows and my highest highs and somehow still manage to look at me with a glimmer in your eyes. There's nothing I can’t do with you by my side. So i’m asking-no-i'm practically begging you to finally marry me, for real this time. Will you do me the honours and become my wife?”

You nodded at him with tears in your eyes as you took small steps towards him. “I want to hear you say it, liebe”

“Yes, Sebastian! Of course I’ll marry you”

[wordsfromthesol]

The Set-Up

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: @zphilophobiaz @anousiemay @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: You are Dinah's younger sister. Word Count: 2,410 A/N: I know it’s been awhile so if anyone wants on/off a taglist just let me know!

"Alright, Roy, you got me here. What's so important?" You called out as you stumbled into what the Outlaws deemed a safehouse. Their standards were pretty low.

"We needed a fourth, okay! Go get Jason and I'll brief everyone." Roy hurried you out of the room that he and Kory were already set up in. You sauntered up to the closed door and knocked.

"Jason, you decent?" You shouted as your fist rapped against the wood.

"Well I'm not morally decent, but I'm wearing pants if that's what you're asking. Though I can be without pants if that's what you prefer --" Jason's voice trailed off as he swung open the door and was met with your face. Clearly, he figured the person on the other side would be Roy or Kory. His face slightly reddened as he reached back and grabbed a shirt.

"I mean…maybe not right now. Roy needs to go over the mission with us." You winked at his obvious embarrassment before trotting off in the direction you came from. Jason quickly caught up with you.

"I…uh…I didn't know Roy asked you for help."

"Yeah he didn't really tell me much. Just that you guys needed a fourth. Not sure why he thinks I'll make that much of a difference.

"Guess we should go find out." Jason raced past you, hoping to avoid further embarrassment, but stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the living room. Roy and Kory were both staring at him, trying to hold back fits of laughter. "What is this all-important mission Y/N was recruited on?" He asked in an attempt to redirect their attention. You walked in behind Jason just in time to get the answer.

"Not really all-important…" Roy's voice reeked of mischief, "just better to have four than three. Then we can do two teams."

"You do know that I have my own agenda. I'm not just sitting around waiting for your call."

"Oh Y/N/N! Don't think of it like that, I practically begged him to ask you. I seriously need some more girl time." Kory piped in to release some of the building tension.

"Uh-huh, sure. Roy, what are we doing?"

"Right. Human trafficking, finally got a hit on this group. Think it's their main smuggling port. There are two docks to check, so two teams. See, I do have a plan. Kinda…"

"Hm mm" you mumbled, still not fully believing him, but you let him continue anyways. You didn't fly out here for nothing.

**

Hours had passed and the four of you sat near the docks, waiting for the cover of nightfall. The smugglers, however, did not. You grabbed Jason's arm and began running towards the dock as soon as you saw a boat pulling into the harbor.

"What are you doing?" Jason mumbled as he ran to keep up with you.

"Are you blind? There's a container ship pulling into the docks. The dock that Roy told us to watch."

"The sun is still setting. There's no way they'd be that stupid." He tried to reason with you, but your pace didn't slow.

"Maybe they just paid the right people. Or killed them." You retorted though the timing was eerily suspicious. Both of you came to a halt when you only saw four guys. Sure, they had guns…but it definitely wasn't enough to warrant extra help. You glanced over at Jason in utter disbelief. "You want me to sit this one out or…"

"Let's just get it over with." Jason was clearly just as agitated as you were. The "battle" lasted only a few seconds and your trip back to the rendezvous spot was completed in utter silence.

"So…Roy. Why the fuck was I needed here?" Holding nothing back, you cried out as soon as you saw his red costume appear in the distance.

"Woah, hold up there. Must've gotten some bad intel. It happens. Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah well next time be sure. I do have my own cases and crime rings to dismantle." You walked off in a huff, determined to find your own way back. You didn't know what exactly Roy was up to, but you knew you wouldn't like it.

**

Months passed since the pointless mission with the Outlaws. You had gotten back to Miami, your home for the time being as you investigated a new drug trade route coming up from South America. Finally, you had made some progress, only said progress led to you being pinned down behind some wooden barrels.

"These aren't going to last long," you mumbled as you dialed Kory on your phone. No answer. "Fuck." Roy was next.

"Y/N, can this wait --" You hear the wind get pushed out of him just as the sentence finished.

"Hm not really. Kinda been pissing off the wrong people and now I'm pinned down."

"Fuck." Roy mumbled as he threw a punch towards the jaw of the unsuspecting thug.

"I tried Kory, but -- shit…" You watched as the barrels splintered around you.

"Off-world. I'm patching in Jas --" Roy stopped a syllable short, you assumed dodging his own bullets. You didn't wait for him to finish.

"Yeah look. I'm in Miami." You heard Jason mumble your name but continued on. You didn't know how much longer you would have. "Pretty sure they'll take me alive. Heard through the grapevine the boss wants the honors himself." You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt a bullet pierce through your shoulder. You took a few steadying breaths before continuing. "I have a tracer in my mask. I'll try to keep it on as long as I can. If you can't track it for some reason, call my sister." You didn't hang up the call before slowly raising your hands above the splintered barrels. "Take me to your leader," you exclaimed in your best alien impression, all while trying not to laugh.

"Do you think this is a game?!" One of the thugs screamed at you as they inched closer. You just shrugged, waiting to either be killed or taken. "Well grab her, idiots!" Two men hesitantly walked towards you, guns still drawn.

"Should I tie myself up? Would that be easier?" At this point, your sarcasm was the only thing keeping you sane. Finally, they got within striking distance and everything went black.

"Y/N? What's happening?!" Jason frantically began calling out your name as he was met with silence. Roy eventually spoke up.

"Jason. I hope you're on your way. I'll meet up with you as soon as I can, but I need to get ahold of Dinah first." Roy had no idea what he was going to say to her.

"Even in the jet, it's going to take 2 hours to get there…" The reality of the situation set it. "But I'm taking off now." Jason tried to push the horrific thoughts from his mind.

**

You woke up tied to a wooden chair. Not surprising.

"So, where's the boss?" You forced the words out, willing yourself into consciousness.

"Don't worry girlie, he's on his way…though I suppose there's nothing wrong with having a little fun first." The goon smirked as he flipped a knife in his hands.

"Well, you wouldn't want to damage the merchandise." You could tell he wasn't sold, so you continued. "I mean I'm dead either way, right? Wouldn't want you to risk your life as well…" He just stared blankly at you while the gears turned in his mind. Finally, he let out an exasperated huff and turned his back to you. At least you were able to buy yourself a little more time. Though you had a feeling it still wouldn't be enough. As your head began spinning, you looked down at your shoulder. The blood was still pouring out of the wound. "Of course…" you mumbled as the dizziness intensified. You were going to have to think of something quickly.

"So, how'd you get stuck with this job? Or are you just some disposable errand boy who got lucky?" You began antagonizing him as you attempted to saw through the ropes with the small blade that discharged out of your gloves.  

"Lucky?" He turned towards you with a villainous look plastered across his face. He sauntered towards you and placed his hands on either side of the chair. "I've been following you. I know your patterns. When you strike. That ambush was calculated and planned. Boss sent me 'cuz he knew I'd get the job done." Before he could push himself up from the chair, you launched forward, ramming your head into his. As he crashed to the floor, another burly man rushed into the room. You managed to free one of your legs just in time. As he stumbled backward you bent down in an attempt to free your other leg. The man lunged at you again. Pulling the other leg free, you circle around and hurled the chair at him. You let out a huge sigh of relief and slid to the floor as he landed atop the first assailant.

**

Jason watched as men patrolled around the building. Just as he was about to move Roy's voice came over the comm, "Have you found her? What's the situation? I'm still an hour out."

"I found her. They have four guards patrolling. Heavily armed. I found an opening."

"Four patrolling…you can't get any intel about who's inside? I think you should wait for me to get there." Roy already knew there was no hope of that.

"We may not have a chance if I wait. I'm going in."

Jason heard his best friend sigh, before eventually relenting. "Keep me updated. I'll be there when I can." Jason saw his opening coming up again. He moved quickly and quietly, sliding into the open door. He took in his surroundings, trying to not alert anyone of his presence unless absolutely necessary. He didn't want to give any of them a reason to shoot you…that is, if you were still alive. As he rounded the corner, he came face to face with a brutish man. Jason launched himself forward, knocking them both to the ground as he muffled the goon's mouth with his hand and encapsulated his neck. It only took a few seconds before the guard was out cold and Jason continued lurching down the hallway. He stopped short of a closed door. Jason took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever awaited him on the other side.

**

You were jolted awake a few moments later and looked around to find the two men still unconscious on the ground. Crawling over, you pulled at one of their jackets and cut off a long piece. It took the last bit of your energy to tie it around your still bleeding shoulder. As your eyes began to flutter closed once again, they shot open at the sound of the door opening. You forced your head upwards and let out a faint chuckle at the familiar Red Hood that looked down at you.

"Solis!" Jason's eyes went wide as he saw the amount of blood in the room. "Shit alright. I need you to stay awake, okay?" You nodded and forced your eyes open as Jason dove down beside you, properly retying the fabric around your shoulder. Jason stared at you for a few moments before pushing himself up and firing a single shot down the hallway. You watched intently as the goons came running in, Jason plowing through them in a matter of minutes. Jason scooped you up, not bothering to try and gather any further information from you.

**

You woke up in a bed in an unfamiliar room. Your brain began piecing together the events. Jason had come to get you, then put you in a car, brought you here, sewed up the wound…you wondered how long you'd been asleep. The door creaked open and you saw both Roy and Jason standing in its frame.

"You're awake! Thank fuck, D would've killed me!" Roy rushed over and embraced you.

"Yeah probably…" You were speaking to Roy, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jason. There was something there, unspoken, that you couldn't remember. What had happened? How long had you been asleep? As if reading your mind, Jason spoke up.

"It's only been 12 hours," he watched your eyes go wide. "Before you freak out, you lost a lot of blood and were barely hanging on to consciousness. 12 hours is not that many. You'll still be weak." Jason began to step towards you but hesitated. Roy immediately noticed the awkwardness his presence brought.

"Imma just…I'll go get us some food…or something." Roy pointed towards the door and rushed out.

"I feel like I'm missing something."

"No…I just. I was worried." You leered at him, knowing that was not what you were missing. You carefully sat up and swung your legs over the bed, determined to get to the bottom of whatever feeling this was. Once you attempted to stand, Jason was at your side in a fraction of a second. "I just said you would be weak…" he mumbled out.

"Well I have to go to the bathroom and you aren't giving me answers anyways." You tried to push him away. It unsurprisingly did not work.

"How long have I known you? For once, just stop being so damn stubborn!" He grabbed your shoulders, in an effort to steady both of you.

"I dunno like 8 years…" you grumbled out, unsure if the question was meant to be answered.

"Yeah well for 7 and a half of those I've loved you. And it just hit me that you could die…hell I could I die, and you wouldn't know." His hands traced down your arms and collapsed at his side. "I guess that just broke me, okay? Are you happy now?!" The anger in his voice rose.

"So how about those pants now?" You smirked, trailing your eyes over his body. Jason's eyes lit up as he began to laugh, recalling the situation from months prior.

"Maybe not right now…let's wait until you can stand on your own."

"JUST KISS HER ALREADY GOD DAMMIT!" Roy screamed from the doorway. Neither of you knew how long he'd been there, but that didn't deter Jason. His lips smashed into yours while his arms enveloped you.

"FUCKING FINALLY!" Roy screamed as he threw his hands up in the air.