#I know I’m SO fuckin late to the party

[crystallizedday]

So uh

I dunno just HOW much this post inspired me

But I remember reading it a while back & being like

“Damn! Bro had so much potential…”

…

& now I have this whole fuckin AU written like 2 full seasons of the og show where I hit this lil shit with the ✨protagonist✨ ray

& bro’s been living in my brain rent free ever since

& I just wanna say

I know it’s probably been like 2 fuckin years or more since ya made this post

But thank you.

The world needed to hear the truth. WKWKSKSOSMSOXKOSMX

It's really a shame they didn't extend Demongo's role in the Samurai Jack series beyond the episode he debuted in. Final season aside, he had the potential to be a great recurring villain in the original series, alongside Aku, for the following reasons:

His powers. Demongo's tactic may be repetitive - expel souls from body, watch souls beat up enemy - but the way in which it is used doesn't have to be. Demongo stated that he had acquired thousands of warrior souls. They could be used as spies, hunters, or a full blown army. But then there's also the psychological aspect - who these souls are to Jack rather than what they physically do to him. What if one of the warrior souls Demongo sent out was Jack's father? Can you imagine how that would fuck Jack up? To know that his father no longer exists in the past he left behind, to fight the man he admired and adored? Demongo could dispense with physically beating him and work to crush his spirit. Demongo is known by the moniker 'Merchant of Doom'. His power physically and mentally breaks people down until they can no longer fight. He exploits a hopeless scenario of his own creation to gain power.

His personality. Demongo is interesting because unlike any other minion of Aku, even Scaramouche to my knowledge, Demongo had private ambitions that went beyond Aku. He rates himself higher than Aku, and states as much when he tells Jack that Jack is "too powerful for my master - but not for me!" He also has an ambition that, if fulfilled, would put him equal to or even above Aku, an ambition that drives him to hunt Jack beyond 'because he told me to'. His desire for Jack's soul is personal as much as it is business, because he believes that taking it will make him "the greatest warrior". This makes Demongo a much more dynamic and flexible character, as his ambitions could cause a direct conflict with his master, and even potentially allow for Jack to make an ally of him, if only to stop Aku, because Aku would be the only other thing standing in the way of Demongo's ultimate goal. He only serves Aku as long as it benefits himself and does not subjugate himself to Aku, at least as far as thoughts go. In his mind, he is the be-all-and-end-all. He's also got a goofy side, and a sense of humour - albeit a dark and twisted one.

His potential for depth/development. This sort of ties in with the second point, but Demongo's personality and quirks lend a lot to his potential future development. He is shown as a being that has become nigh unstoppable, even challenging Jack and putting him in serious peril, because of the souls he has claimed. He defines himself by his ability to take down any foe without even uncrossing his legs. He does not care that Jack takes issue with power gained from using others, he is proud of the method he uses and he uses it how he pleases. Demongo does, however, fear that he is nothing without it. He believes it. The nervous laugh when Jack brings it up, the anguish when all his souls are stripped away, show us a creature that believes using the strength of others is the only way he can live. As a tiny, frail creature, he is helpless and vulnerable to many forces. He may have chosen to follow Aku with the promise of strength. That survival instinct led him to become powerful, but he clearly became addicted to that power over time. It was no longer enough to be enough, he had to be the best. He had to be completely untouchable. Jack saw this clearly. Perhaps his Samurai Wisdom could benefit Demongo, show him that he is wrong to think that way about himself.

tl;dr: Demongo should have been a recurring villain/anti hero and should have been more than just a pointless nostalgia cameo (still salty)

[jolalibrary]

don't move, honey

joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel doesn't want you to move or touch until he comes back to bed.

wordcount: 1.9k warnings: smut. smut. smut. no outbreak. there's a vibrator and then joel's cock. established relationship. he's happy, and you're very happy. an: dedicated to the one, the only @thetriumphantpanda who i have spent all day with, and promise to always dedicate joel too.

He’s already been called for once.

A high-pitched squeal of Dad coming from behind his door, a reminder that you said you’d drop me off following. Yet, as you giggle at Sarah's stomp off, Joel’s face remains buried in your neck, covering your ear with his palm as he bellows that he’ll be a minute.

It’s a white lie. One you know well from the way he’s been sliding his hand across your hip that he hopes for more than a minute, or even five. A thing he’d have if he took her to her party that turns into a sleepover.

“You know, if you—”

“I know, I know.”

Gruffly painting it against your neck in heavy, annoyed exhales as you smile, as your hand comes around to play with the hair atop his head.

“She’ll burst through the door in a moment.”

Grunting, vibrating it across your skin, he drags his palm along your lower stomach. Thick finger, by thick finger falling from your skin till he pings the t-shirt you’ve chosen to sleep with back into place.

Another knock sounds, and you smile against his lips, saying “told you” at the same time as the voice on the other side calls “Dad?”

He snorts, the side of his body flush to yours as he takes one more kiss, fingers either side of your jaw as he presses another, and then another, before shouting “I’m comin’” to the door.

“Don’t move, honey. Please.”

He whispers it. It leaves the back of his throat all gravelly, almost desperately. His hips flush with yours as he leaves messy kisses along your lips, down your neck, and along your collarbone, before dragging himself up. It’s begrudging, the way he pulls on jeans over his thighs, pinning you with a stare.

“Jus’ stay right there—I’ll be thirty, forty minutes. Drop her off and then we can…”

Smirking, stretching in his sheets, your movements force the tee you’ve slept in to stretch out over your breasts, making his eyes drop to your hardened peaks. And you watch him shake his head, cursing under his breath—all Jesus fuckin’ Christ—before it’s punctured with the sound of his zip and then a button.

“Don’t touch either while I’m gone.”

Smiling, falling onto your side, knee bent as he throws on a somewhat clean t-shirt.

“I won’t. I’ll be good.”

He snorts at that, hand running through his hair to mess it up—hand wiping his chin as he takes another look at you. “Y’don’t know how to be good—it’s how I end up late.”

“Think that’s shit out of luck planning, Miller.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, hand wrapped around the door handle. “Don’t touch.”

But you want to.

It’s all you can think about when you hear the door slam behind the two of them and his truck roar to life.

The neediness rises, knowing there’s a patch already forming on your underwear, likely having already ruined the gusset of your panties as thirty stretches to forty to fifty.

And your resolve almost snaps. Pleasure threatens to ripple when you brush your thighs together, close to snaking your fingers under the cotton band, wishing to stroke circles against your clit and be cascaded in a wave of your own making.

You give him another minute, consider two.

Toying with the idea, tempted to see if you can place his pillow between your thighs. See if it’ll give you enough friction, enough of a release. Fingers flirting with the end of it when it echoes through the house—

The front door opening and then slamming.

You bite back a giggle, a laugh. Thrill blooming through you, excitement, all-electric, finding him wrestling with his top as he bursts back through his bedroom door.

He must know you’ve been good, that you’ve done as he’s asked because he kisses you so hungrily once he’s kneeling on either side of your frame. His mouth is desperate in its attempts to take your breath away as the scent of him smothers you, becoming all you can smell.

“Missed you.”

He hums as your fingers clutch at his cheeks, hips trying to roll against him as the presence of him only makes you wetter. A thing which worsens when you hear the sound of his bedside table drawer opening, it rolling on its rails as you whimper, letting it find purpose against his lips.

Fingers tugging on his curls, you swallow his groan as you snake your fingers into his hair and scrape your nails against his scalp. Feeling nothing but confident, cocky—all set to ask him when he’s gonna fill you up, but a gasp is forced from you instead.

It smothers his mouth. Leaves your throat and finds a home in his. Aware of him smirking as you arch into him in surprise—barely recognising it before it’s intensely pressing on you.

He’s begun on low, the vibration. But he’s pressed against your cloth-covered mound with skill. Vibrations ripple out, teasing, as his fingers roll the head of it over your swollen nerves and drenched folds—no aim in sight, just teasing, taunting.

“Was thinkin’ of you the entire ride,” he murmurs, and you can only moan, vision spotting already. “Imagined I’d come back and find you fuckin’ yourself with this.”

Shaking your head, your mouth hangs open. Chest heaving. Little shallow breaths escaping as he drags the head of the toy up and down—

“Thought you’d be writhing, soaking it—gushin’ around it. Making noises that fill the house. Fuckin’ love it when you’re messy. Y’know that?”

And somehow, with a thick tongue and a shaky mind, you tell him that you’ve been good—good for him, all for him. Tongue lazily licking the words into his mouth. Feeling him peeling your panties from your slick-covered pussy, before gliding the silicone through your pleasure, coating it—dragging it up and down.

It’s then there’s a click, the vibrations intensifying.

A depraved, knotty moan escaping from your throat, so low, so loud, it forces a laugh to rumble through his chest at the way you grasp for him—the way you draw-out his name. Arching, head falling back as your neck unveils to him, as he shifts closer to smother you, continuing his assault as he moves the toy between your spread thighs—

Pressing it, rolling it in circles against your swollen clit.

And you’re burning. A mere passenger. Nothing but heaving and desperately pleading, before feeling two of his thick fingers slide into you, curl, press against that spot that makes your thighs tremble. That makes heat turn into fire and lick through your insides as you rock. As you leverage both your feet for balance and thrust into his touch.

Close, close, close—

And it’s not a command or even an ask, Joel just asks if he can have it. You, your pleasure, this. So you give it to him, willingly. Crying out as the pressure builds, becoming overwhelming as you shake and dangle, before it cracks. Eyes clenching shut, sinful noises falling from your tongue as you come hard around his fingers, shaking, trembling.

Aware, distantly, of the vibration still pressing against you, of his voice cooing you back, before you the familiarity of his knee against yours, as he keeps you spread. Your eyes open in time to see him throw the toy down the bed and kneeling to undo his jeans—

“Y’so good for me, did so good.”

You’re aware you’re nodding. Dumbly, numbly. All tingly from head to fucking toe as you feel him slide your underwear down your legs. Lifting on shaky elbows to admire him with his hard, leaking cock in hand as he stares at the mess he’s made of you. The one between your legs before dragging his eyes up to your face before he smiles, smirks, gleams.

“Wanna make you say my name like that again.”

And it is sheepish, shy, lazy, the way you smile, sliding your legs over his upper thighs as he nears, as he shuffles closer until your lower body is elevated and you can feel the movements of his hand up and down his cock before he’s brushing the head through your folds.

Up, down; up, down—

“Joel—”

“I know, honey. I know.”

Swallowing, you place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, tapping, before snaking it to his shoulder. Knowing, digging your nails in as he inches himself in, bottoming out as you stretch, his name shuddering from your throat as he takes a sharp breath in.

“Fuck—”

Fluttering around him, sensitive and yet shameless in your want for him.

He who is all hard, thick, long—mouth sealing to yours as your open mouth turns into kiss, clutching him, all bare, warm and yours as he fucks into you, deep, palm and fingers gripping your side, your hip.

“—Feel so perfect ‘round me…”,

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

He repeats it like a mantra; like it’s a thing he wishes to remind you of as he builds to a brutal pace. Little hisses escaping through gritted teeth, the sound of his hips snapping to yours—and the wetness between your thighs messily coating the coarse hair at the base of him, making him sticky, messy—

And you’re so full. Already ready to crash again, broken sobs writing a poem in the air as it builds and builds. Because the head of his cock is hitting that spot all over again, making your thighs tremble. Only finding yourself able to whine, moan, tangling fingers in his sheets as you feel his palms under your back, lifting, bringing you closer before it latches to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

Somehow, from this angle, he’s deeper. His mouth trailing unspoken words to your skin as you stare down at the place the two of you meet; seeing how he glistens before he vanishes back into you. Tightening around him at the sight, clenching—

Fuck, fuck, Joel, fuck—

And your breath hitches before you’re convulsing—everything blurring.

White noise ringing out, vision blackened as you swear you leave your body. Hovering somewhere above it before you become aware of the air being tinged with the sounds of you both crying out—how it’s stained in sweat, in pleasure. How he hisses before he grunts, cock twitching inside of you as his hips lose their rhythm.

He pants, before he collapses on you, your legs nothing but limp as his forearms cage you in.

Three words burn on your tongue as you press your mouth to one bicep, writing it there, leaving it against his skin before your lips are dragged to his. Wet, hot kisses that you give and take willingly as he rocks gently, fucking his come deeper into you as you feel him slowly soften.

And then you smile, lazier than before. Your chest slows in its rise and fall as you feel his heartbeat hammer against yours, hearing him whisper perfect as you grin against his mouth.

an: it's getting hot in here, so....

[ellecdc]

Okay after many many thoughts I think I've got it!

Barty showing up to the gryffindor quidditch after party (cause James and Sirius are great players and know what they're doing) bloody and bruised cause he overheard some butthurt slytherins talking shit about James and their girl. And he wasn't gonna let that slide.

I'm not sure if it's clear, but this is in regards to the darksun x reader were talking about yesterday 😅

oooooooof ok.......*throws this at you all and runs* NEW SHIP ALERT: I'm new to this, be nice to me hahahahaha

poly!darksun x fem!reader at a bloody Gryffindor afterparty

CW: Barty shows up bloody and bruised but he's chuffed about it, reader won't stop slapping Peter [it's not that serious], Sirius is not that serious -> pairing = james potter x reader x barty crouch jr

It had been perhaps only 25 minutes since the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw game ended and the afterparty in Gryffindor tower was already in full swing.

And what Remus meant by full swing was that Sirius was literally swinging from the chandelier, Marlene and Lily were challenging one another to a game of ‘who could spin the most times without getting sick’ (which Remus felt was a game that everyone was going to lose), and you and Peter were halfway through a very intense muggle card game called slap which did indeed involve slapping and, apparently, swearing and trash talk. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Peter muttered as he rubbed the back of his hands dejectedly.

“Gonna have to be faster than that, Wormy.” You taunted as you collected his pile of cards.

“Oi, if she has so much as one welt on the back of her hand, Pete; there will be hell to pay.” James called as he came up behind you.

You turned to look at James then, and Remus was sure your smile was nearly blinding in your excitement and energy if James’ lovesick look was anything to go by.

“Yeah, yeah Prongs; she’s sodding winning by a landslide anyways, no need to get your knickers in a twist.” Peter muttered (rather petulantly for only having lost a round of a silly card game if you asked Remus).

“I don’t think it’s Prongs you have to worry about, my dear Wormy.” Sirius called from his new home in the chandelier, nodding towards the entrance as Barty stepped through the portrait hole. 

Remus watched as both you and James seemed to melt now that your third was here. He knew that it hadn’t been easy persuading Barty to participate in such “Gryffindorian displays of pompous pride” as he had called it, but you had somehow been able to convince him to celebrate the team’s wins if not only for James’ sake. 

And, as Sirius would pretend, maybe a little bit for his sake as well. Remus didn’t have the heart (nor the patience) to tell him that was a fat chance. 

“I’m not afraid of Junior.” Pete muttered darkly as he watched you reset the game in front of them. 

“Circe’s tits…perhaps you should be, Pete.” Sirius bit out through a grimace, causing the group to all turn their attention to the Slytherin boy.

Remus wasn’t exactly sure what the Slytherin practice was when getting ready for a celebratory quidditch afterparty, but based on Barty’s current state, it seemed that ritual consisted of at least one fist fight with a particularly angry hippogriff.

“What happened?” You nearly shrieked as you abandoned your card game and you and James made for your boyfriend. 

Barty let out a breath before he broke out into a smile. “Sorry I’m late! Had to take care of something on my way here.”

Remus was sure that the way Barty was grinning at the two of you had to be horribly painful for the busted lip he was currently sporting as his teeth quickly turned a pinky/red colour. 

“And what were you taking care of? A graphorn?” James asked incredulously as you guided Barty to a stool in order to fuss over him.

“Don’t be daft, James. There’s no graphorns in Hogwarts.” Barty waved him off, eyes moving to you as you assessed his face.

“Who did you run into, Barty?” You pressed; voice taking a no-nonsense tone that had Peter and Remus sharing a nervous look. 

“Just some Ravenclaws who were a little disappointed by the end of today’s match, is all.” He offered happily; pulling you closer towards him from where you were standing between his legs by the back of your thighs, watching you adoringly as you summoned a cloth to dab at his lip. 

“That’s all, is it?” You deadpanned, clearly not buying his story.

“I hardly think you were too fussed over some comment about quidditch scores, Barty.” James chided lovingly. 

“Of course I did! I love quidditch.” Barty spat defensively. 

“Yeah, but you hate the Gryffindor team.” Sirius called from his chandelier. 

“That’s not true! I’m shagging the captain for Salazar’s sake.”

“Okay, well…maybe don’t shout that?” You muttered as you looked around in embarrassment, earning a bark of laughter from James as he rubbed your shoulders consolingly. 

“I don’t know, bubs; I don’t see you risking showing up late and bloody over discourse on match scores.” James continued, clearly finding this more amusing than you were as you angrily cast a glacius on a cup and held it to Barty’s jaw which was quickly purpling in colour. 

“Okay, perhaps they said a few other things; it’s no big deal.” Barty offered dismissively, though Remus (and likely you and James) noticed the way that his grip seemed to strengthen on your thighs at his admission.

“Yeah? Like what?” You encouraged. 

Barty let out a defeated sigh as he finally turned his gaze to you. “You know I don’t like people talking about you; either of you.” He admitted quietly. 

You shook your head in disappointment but let out a sympathetic sigh.

“Wait, what’d they say about our girl?” James said then, craning his neck around you in order to look at Barty pointedly.

“It doesn’t matter Jamie! It appears he’s already taken care of it, yeah?” You hissed as you swatted at him with the cloth that you had been tending to Barty with. 

James quickly caught the end of the cloth and used it to pull you into him, planting a smacking kiss to your face. 

“I did take care of it!” Barty repeated excitedly. “Can I have a kiss?” He asked sweetly, smiling at you expectantly as you rubbed James’ kiss off of your cheek. 

“Absolutely not.” You grumbled as you ignored his disbelieving scoff.

“Why not!?” He cried out as you stepped out from between his legs.

“Barty, I am not rewarding you for bad behaviour.” You declared as you plopped yourself down in front of Peter again, ordering him to reset your card game. 

James quickly looked between the two of you before stepping between Barty’s legs to give him his own kiss.

“You are such a simp, James Potter.” Remus taunted under his breath as to not alert you to your boyfriend currently enabling your other boyfriend.

“Yeah, yeah; laugh it up now. But I get to watch you try to wrestle Pads out of the chandelier later, so I don’t think you have a leg to stand on, Moons.” 

“He can sleep up there tonight, for all I care.” Remus muttered petulantly as he crossed his arms.

Sirius wouldn’t sleep up there tonight; Remus knew it, James knew it, Sirius knew it, likely the whole bloody school knew it. But Remus would pretend he wasn’t as big a simp as James Potter, at least a little bit longer, in order to preserve what little superiority he held for the time being.

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS — OSAMU MIYA

content warnings: smut, mentions of voyeurism (suna is just there for the ride), possessive language and toxic behaviors, f!reader, situationships, oral (giving and receiving), mind numbing flirting & witty banter, creampie, he calls you a slut twice, you’re both kinda shitty. 🤷🏾

plot: as usual, atsumu has brought another “friends with benefits minus the friend” home. but unusually, osamu can’t stand the thought of you together, even suna agrees, right?

a/n: tv girl referenced! something evil took over me when writing this, I’m getting uninvited from so many miya birthday parties omg … T_T enjoy this 4.6k word vom.

Osamu never thought being roommates with his own twin could get any worse than when they were young boys sharing a bunk bed. Atsumu was never the type to return clothes he borrowed and certainly was the type to eat food sharpied with someone else’s name. What was Osamu’s, by extension, was Atsumu’s. He loved his brother and would yield to his selfishness because that’s just how things were.

Lately, however, Atsumu has been seeing someone, more and more frequently. Going as far as replacing his other quick fucks between practices for you. Osamu can understand why, you’re witty, unbelievably sexy, and far too sophisticated to be a fuck laid by Atsumu whenever he sends a quick “come over” text.

This matter has perplexed everyone in Atsumu Miya’s circle, questions raise on how he even managed to get your attention. “Yer all just mad it’s me she wants,” the cheeky bastard says with a toothy grin. To that, he’s not wrong.

That’s how Osamu and Suna have ended up here, with their ears to the door trying to understand what you possibly could be getting in fair exchange. “You fuckin’ love it don’t you baby,” Atsumu says to you in a tone dripping with confidence. It makes both their stomachs churn thinking of someone so beautiful with a guy like that…

“I just can’t believe this,” Suna dramatizes, he really wants to aid his friend but with each passing second of skin slapping against skin — he doesn’t know how much longer Osamu can take it. The Miyas are .. rather possessive, especially him.

“Mhm hm! Love it ‘Tsumu your dick is so good!” It’s downright pornographic how honey-sweet you sound, it just has to be fake.

“Rin, we both know Atsumu can’t fuck women that good. Tell me I still have a chance,” he’s delusional and he knows it, but the small sliver of hope keeps him desperately chasing after what’s not his.

“You’re crazy,” he snickers, almost pitying his friend for how hard he is beneath his pants. “One Miya is trouble enough, but two? She’ll be running for the hills.”

That’s all Osamu needed to set his plot into motion, he’ll just have to steal you away from him — his own brother.

It’s a quiet Sunday morning in the apartment, you roll out of Atsumu’s huge bed to make yourself coffee like you usually do when you stay over. Bless his heart but you and your newest fuck could not be any more different, he’s a late sleeper, overconfident, and to top it all off he’s not the greatest lay. You weren't sure how you ended up sleeping with a volleyball player.

But, he is undeniably handsome, which is how you found yourself in his bed. Shoving those thoughts aside, you slip into the hallway in nothing but one of his oversized shirts making your way to the kitchen. “Mornin’, coffee’s on the table.”

His voice startles you from your half-awakened stupor and you realize it’s just Atsumu. How sweet, he’s never done something like this for you before. You rub your sleepy eyes as you take a sip from the warm mug, hold on. You just left his bed, how could he be here?

Dark brown hair and cold grey eyes meet yours and instantly you know who this man is. “Oh- I’m so sorry Osamu, it didn’t register to me that you’d be here today.” You panic, trying to cover yourself up with something but he just laughs you off while drinking from his own cup.

Osamu Miya, the twin brother and (elusive) roommate of Atsumu. “You’re fine pretty, just enjoy the coffee. Let me know if you want any breakfast with it.” Once a month Osamu closes his shop in preparation for a big rice delivery from Kita, he’s just happened to catch you alone in his living room.

Involuntary heat rises to your face at his choice of words, you haven’t been formally introduced on account of the fact your relationship with his brother isn’t serious but you don’t mind his informal greeting. “So the rumors are true, you’re a chef?” you query, setting your mug down on a table closest to your seat.

God. The lilt in your voice makes him shudder and swallow hard, not to mention that the fat of your thighs peek out from under your shirt when you cross your legs. You aren’t aware of this, but that’s his shirt Atsumu has yet to return — but right now he’ll let that go — he gets to see you wear it.

“Mhm, it seems I can’t deny the allegations. Mostly onigiri though. Sorry to disappoint.” He can’t help himself but to flirt with you, his twisted infatuation morphing into a crush now that he’s immersed himself in the real thing. The soft glow of the morning light makes you appear like an angel on his couch.

“Well Mr. Chef, don’t hurt yourself trying to make bacon and eggs,” you muse. While he may be as handsome as Atsumu, he’s different; calmer, wittier, and more adept at ordinary life skills from the looks of it. This man, you reckon, is the sole reason why your sneaky link even has a proper roof over his head.

The conversation flows naturally between you as he prepares the needed ingredients. It ranges from work to his restaurant then back to you again, you find yourself laughing at his jokes and feeling much more comfortable in the apartment than before. There's a certain chemistry that seems to occur between you.

It continues like this for a while, Osamu finding reasons to be at the flat instead of his restaurant so that he may spend time with you, chatting you up over breakfast that he’s prepared. Flirtatious remarks beneath the guise of innocent conversation.

It feels wrong, coming over for one man hoping to see another the next morning, the worst of all being that they have the same face. Yet, they could not be any more contrasting. Where Atsumu forces your submission in his bedroom - Osamu rightfully earns it by tending to you. Sometimes when you look up between your lashes you wish it was dark hair you were seeing instead of platinum.

It’s another quiet Sunday morning in the Miya’s apartment. Your feet feel light as you make your way down the hallway to see him, Osamu. It’s inexplicable to you why there seems to be more cadence in your step with each strut forward, and on queue there he is. Alluring as he sits on the couch in his compression tee.

The same relaxed smile and soft tone, “Mornin’ sweetness, your coffee’s on the table.” You scoop the mug up as you plop down on the forgiving cushion next to him.

“This isn’t a sound business practice, aren’t owners supposed to open their restaurant?” You’re quick to start this morning, craving the stimulating conversation you can only find in him - like he’s some sort of haven amongst the rubble that is your situationship. The guilt does gnaw at you, making the coffee taste even more bitter than usual.

It’s what he’s been waiting for, the foundation begins to crumble and like your hero, he’ll swoop in. “Yes, but lately I’ve been hired as a private chef. The clientele is rather demanding of me if you can believe that,” he retorts while deadpanning in your direction. When he looks at you it feels like you’re bare for his eyes alone. Those cool tone grey eyes that know exactly what you are.

It leaves a lump in your throat that makes it difficult to talk. He continues between sips of his coffee, “she only requests bacon and eggs when I could give her so much more.” It makes your blood rush trying to see through his act, is it literal or innuendo? Nevertheless, you dance around each other avoiding the inevitable for a taste of limbo.

“What’s on the menu then?” You’re content to shove the ball back on his side of the court, intent on making him reveal his cards in a full flush.

The air in the room suffocates you, what seems like a quick conversation plays in slow motion. You’ve always been one to play coy, guarding your heart with quick jabs and humor. He indulges you, plays the game, the one of the cat and the mouse.

But the Miya’s are not coy, not by a long shot. “You.” It’s simple and effective, and he doesn’t miss the hitch in your breath when you realize he’s both literal and figurative.

During this long winded plot of his, Osamu has purposely avoided the topic of Atsumu all together. He doesn’t want to feed the green in his vision, doesn’t want to think of the consequences, he just wants you. Desperately.

It’s like your brain's shut down, the truth is right here in your face but it’s flustering. You’ve won, but why does it feel like you’ve lost? “I— Osamu,” you start, but you just can’t meet his gaze.

“Face it, when you’re with him you’re thinking of me.” The shame washes over you and becomes a pit of despair in your stomach. Your hands bunch the fabric of Atsumu’s shirt as you sit there and face the truth for yourself. The ugly, raring, and raw truth: that you want his hands to roam the canvas of your body, that it’s his lips you want seared into your flesh, that it’s his room you wish you were going into during the wee hours of the night. Not Atsumu’s.

He’s in front of you now, his broad shoulders casting a dubious shadow over you. “Tell me — right here n’ now — that you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone.” But still, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. To be met with that face.

“Osamu, please.” You beg, pawing at his shirt, with tears in your eyes. “Don’t leave,” you feel pathetic, shame eating at you for acting so desperate. You’ve never behaved this way before, not genuinely at least. He drives you crazy, and you’re not willing to let it go so easily.

He thinks he’ll cum in his pants from this little display alone, your honesty and vulnerability fueling his twisted desire. He looks more like his brother than ever before, trademark wicked smirk at the feeling of victory. It’s delightful.

“Shh, pretty thing I’m not gonna quit you,” he says taking your face in his big hand. It’s hot, searing to the touch. The pad of his thumb strokes your plush cheek, “feel what you do to me.”

Osamu takes your hand in his, covering it seamlessly while dragging it up his thigh. He’s hard, incredibly so. It’s almost painful just how bricked he is beneath his pants. “See,” he helps you palm from the base all the way to the tip and you swear you’re dripping onto his couch. He groans softly feeling your delicate hands basically grope him in his shared living room, but fuck does it feel good.

He has to stop himself from grinding into your hand, frantic to finally get some reprieve to this insatiable ache for you. “So, how long,” you ask, not stopping your ministrations.

The air around you has changed, you’ve regained your composure knowing you weren’t alone in your desperation. He hisses when you cup his balls looking for a response, “how long what?”

His face is flushed a wild shade of pink and it’s only heightened by the morning light pouring in through the windows. “Now you want to play coy with me, Osamu Miya? How long have you waited to fuck me behind Atsumu’s back? Was it when he first brought me home,” your hand slides along the fabric smoothly as you rest your head against his hip.

“Maybe it was all those times you made me coffee?” You continue palming him, essentially jacking him off through his pants. “Or maybe when you were listening outside the door?” You squeeze and he lets out a choked whimper.

“Like yer any better slut, jerkin’ me off while you’re under my brothers roof.” He can’t control his tone, country accent raring to go on account of feeling cornered. You make him feel so good he doesn’t want to stop, he’s never been this hard in his life.

You hum, pleased with his response. “Such a nasty mouth for a chef. Do you speak to your customers this way?” He’s pulling himself out of his pants before you get the chance, his tip angry and red, soaked with precious pre.

It makes your mouth water, you’re eye level with his cock and all you want is to make yourself gag on it. “Nah, just the pretty ones with a bratty mouth. So show me what you can do hot stuff.”

Spitting directly on his head you drag the bulb down to his base with your tongue, watching as he shudders from your seated position. You place your hands on either side of his hips as you take him fully in your mouth, lapping the salty taste up trying to replace it with your own. “Dirty lil thing, you do this for him?”

The possession in his voice is palpable but you give him a taste of his own medicine. “Nah, only for the handsome ones who are smartasses,” releasing him from your mouth makes a pop sound. You jerk him in one hand as you belittle him, smiling with spit dribbling down your chin.

He thinks he might be in love with you, isn’t that funny. A woman who can reduce him to mere putty that’s rightfully not his, how raunchy. It makes Osamu’s balls pulse uncomfortably.

You’re a vixen, sent to entice him with your every move and fluid jerk of your wrist. He has to stop now or he’ll cum too fast, he wants this moment to last forever. The way you worship him and his cock, the way your smart mouth makes his head swim, and how warm your hands are on his bare skin.

Osamu Miya has never felt so greedy in his entire life. He hasn’t felt the need to ask anything this demanding of his brother, but what’s Atsumu’s is Osamu’s. Right? What’s a quick fuck to one is a wife to another, and with the way you’re sucking him off he might just have to put a ring on it.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself from your hot mouth before he’s able to spill down your throat. He taps the tip of his cock against your lips insultingly with a grin, “Enough, so damn desperate yer gonna choke on it.”

He’s mean but it excites you, Atsumu has never spoken to you like this only really going through the motions. You can’t help how your pussy clenches involuntarily around nothing nor can you stop the heat from rising to your face as you draw your thighs together. You sit there, staring at each other with bated breaths as the reality of what you’re doing sets in.

But if you thought that was going to deter him, you are sorely mistaken. He practically falls to his knees to get a taste of your lips against his, resting his upper body between your legs on the couch. Osamu groans tasting himself on your tongue as he invades your mouth.

You’re slobbering all over each other in a heated attempt to engulf one another. He grabs the back of your thighs while you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s like months of desperate mutual yearning have come to fruition and neither of you will let up. Not even for air.

You’re not wearing any panties and you’re sure your cunts drooling all over the place as he sucks kisses down your neck and collarbones. “Osamu—” you whine quietly, only for him to hear. His tongue licks and prods at your sensitive skin giving you goosebumps. It’s so hot and heavy you can’t make any sense of yourself just from some simple kisses.

He’s reduced you to nothing with minimal effort, wildly different from other sexual encounters you’ve had. “I need more of you Osamu, please,” and it’s the sweetest words he’s ever heard uttered. You’re absolutely perfect, just for him.

“Of course love, whatever you need.” His hands begin to spread your legs apart as another gush of slick pours out of you from the pet name alone. “I bet he doesn’t even know what to do with this, doesn’t know how to make you feel good like I can.”

If that’s a promise, you need him to fulfill it. His words are heavy in your ears as you watch him take his shirt off, they weigh in your chest threatening to drag you down with him. He spreads your puffy folds apart with his thumb, getting a good look at you and letting out coos of praise. “Yer so fuckin wet I can see it,” he dips into your warmth only slightly, marveling at the slick that coats his fingers.

He eyes them and you try to stop him before he does what you think he’s gonna do. “Don’t do that, it’s nasty,” you say trying to grab his hand.

But he swats you away, appraising the translucent liquid by spreading his fingers apart before sticking them in his mouth. “Mhm, n’ you taste as good as you look.”

He loves this look on you, the horror written all over your face as he sucks them clean. A chef never wastes a proper meal, and he’s still fuckin hungry.

Osamu yanks you down the couch to be as close as possible, he can feel the heat radiating from your cunt with just his face above it. He can tell you’ve never had someone properly eat you out by the way you’re so scared to let him even play around with you, and that lights a fire under his ass.

He dives tongue first into your folds, purposely avoiding the spot you need him the most. The moan you let out is a stark comparison to anything he’s heard from you before, but he can’t have you spoiling the fun already.

So he’ll kiss you instead, forcing you to taste yourself and groan into his maw while his fingers work magic in your cunt. Your nails find purchase in the skin of his back as he holds your leg open with one hand and slides his middle finger inside you with another. He pulls back, gauging your reaction for any discomfort as he works it in and out of your sopping heat.

“So messy for me baby, god I love it,” but he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at where his finger slips inside you; making you watch as his knuckles disappear before sliding in another.

The second digit proving to be a stretch for you as you cry into his mouth about how good it feels, “so good ‘samu, just a little faster.”

That’s when he curls them upwards, toying the rougher patch of your g-spot with the pads of his middle and ring finger. The force at which you try to close your legs and dig your nails into his skin lets him know he’s in the right place. “Gotta stay quiet sweetheart, can ya do that for me?”

You don’t know how you could be, with the way he’s listening to your body he’s managed to play its perfect tune. But you nod, covering your mouth with your hand obediently as he descends between your legs again.

Finally, he pays mind to your puffy clit. Giving it kitten licks while his fingers are still making a sloppy mess of you down below. He groans sending vibrations through you in the act of suckling your bud between his lips.

It’s muffled, but he can hear you chanting his name as he throughly wrecks you with just his mouth and hands. It causes white hot pleasure to settle in the belly of you as you writhe and try and to run away from it. He won’t let you, forcing your legs apart even wider.

You’re cumming on his fingers before you even know it. Leaving red welts on his shoulder as you go limp on the couch. “Just keep cumming for me pretty. Let go,” his low calm voice centers you when you begin to twitch against your will.

You’ve rarely ever truly came when fucking Atsumu, but Osamu has you pleading for mercy as he thumbs your clit through the aftershocks.

He lets you catch your breath, helping you remove the oversized shirt from over your head. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he says while thumbing your chin, and kissing your tits tenderly. His eyes reassure you from between the valley of your breasts.

You’re appreciative of his masked concern, “then stop talking, and start doing.” The fight in you is exactly why he wanted you in the first place.

“To think this gorgeous pussys been wasted,” he tsks. “Don’tcha worry yer pretty head baby, I’ll fuck that attitude outta ya.” He stands up, removing the rest of his clothing and putting you on the couch how he wants you. Obviously, he was going to go for missionary, all so that you could see him in the act of claiming you as his own.

You know you’re in trouble with Osamu when he slips into his country accent, it’s involuntary but it’s his true nature. You’re placed onto your back by his big arms, most likely from carrying heavy bags of rice everyday at his job. You can’t help but ogle at the thin layer of sweat that coats him, and he smiles. So charming.

He begins by lining himself with your entrance, teasing the ring of muscle with the tip of his cock. It makes you whine, needy for more but he won’t just take you. No, he uses your pussy to lube himself up. “For fucks sake ‘Samu just put it in please,” you think using a nickname on him will work like it does with Atsumu.

But Osamu is in control of himself and his desires (for the most part), he’ll rut his hips into your sticky labias, running over your sensitive clit with the underside of himself. “So needy, jus’ watch” he tilts your chin downwards to make you gaze at where your bodies nearly meet.

He’s going to break you before anything else. The sight is turning you on beyond belief, his body tensing and releasing with every slow drawl of his lazy hips. “How bad d’ya want me? Tell me n’ I’ll fuck you slut.”

The way in which he carries himself warns you to not mess with him, submit. It’s all in his face, the restraint, the power, the control. You want to break down and beg him for everything so that he may see you for what you truly are in those grey eyes. “I think about you every time I come over here, every time you’ve poured me coffee or made my eggs I’ve wanted you. ‘Samu I need you s’bad please..”

You feel him physically twitch and groan lowly at your confession. He wasn’t expecting all that but it certainly does stroke his ego. Osamu pinches your nipple slightly as he grins. “Yeah baby, you wish it was me touchin’ you,” its rhetorical. He’ll reward you though, ‘fer bein so damn good’.

He feels heavenly entering you, it makes your toes curl when you hear him sigh into a slow pace. He takes his time with you, working you up to fully enjoy your experience with him. “You feel so good, fuck.. n’ your pussy’s so warm,” he says while tightening the grip on the back of your knees.

Everything is hitting you at once and it’s getting hotter by the second, your heavy breaths hitting his face as you accept him in full. It’s a snug fit and the curve of him feels just right in your walls, fuck you need him closer.

“I want you,” is all that comes out between soft whimpers. And he obliges, folding you in half and guiding your arms to hang around his shoulders. He feels so deep inside you that you can’t even see straight. His face is red with his brows drawn together in pleasure.

You try and keep quiet but the muffled sound of skin against skin keeps ringing in your ears along with the slosh of your cunt. “Lettin’ me pound you raw too, should just let me have ya. I know I’m fuckin’ you better than him.”

His words are like fire on your skin, burning you from the inside out. Your walls flutter and convulse around him as he snickers. It registers that you can feel all of him and you whine. The flood gates threaten to spill.

“I— Osamu s’good, oh my god!” He revels in the fact it almost sounds like you’re in pain from how much satisfaction you’re feeling, because of him. It’s his name you’re wailing, not Atsumu’s.

You dig your nails deeper, certain to draw blood as you're needy more of him. The band in you is threatening to snap. He’s close too, quickening the rate at which he barrels into you. Reaching deeper and deeper as he makes eye contact with you. It’s so intimate that you feel yourself succumbing.

“Where do you wan’ it baby,” his eyes are glossed over with lust and his voice thick with desire. There’s only one place you want him, inside.

It’s like music to his ears, he’s spilling his seed in hot thick ropes as he stills himself balls deep inside you. You unravel, biting your lip as you squeeze him tighter than a vice, he’s groaning and shallowly pumping into your shaking form.

You never knew missionary on a sofa could feel so fucking good, he looks at you with such care in his eyes that you melt.

Osamu helps you clean up, apologizing for the frothy ring of cum on his base and the mess that pours out of you. He’s "a sucker for a cream pie" is what he tells you.

Things between you couldn’t remain as they were, you both knew that know after you practically devoured each other right down the hall from Atsumu’s room.

He brings you to his space, letting you shower and wipe yourself down (not without groping your curves between steps). You talk about what you should say or how to even go about it over breakfast he made, but this time you're wearing his shirt.

It’s safe to say Atsumu was not pleased losing one of his favorite fucks, but in some weird way he’s not completely pissed. He’s never seen Osamu so fucking selfish n' greedy before, so he must be pretty serious about you. In time he’ll forgive him, even swing by the restaurant to see you two.

“How’s it feel havin’ my seconds,” he’ll taunt behind your back to Osamu when you’re not around. Jutting his elbow into his brothers side.

Osamu rolls his eyes, “still bitter it’s my cock she’s begging for every night I see. Get better soon.” He knows you’re happier with him, sending a hardened look at Atsumu.

They both smile as you approach the table with snacks, dropping whatever argument as you greet them. “Hello Miya and better Miya.”

Osamu snickers, kissing your left hand with his engagement ring on it. Atsumu just grumbles under his breath. “Hello Mrs. Miya,” they both say in unison.

[erwinsvow]

“rafe, i want a soda,” you tell your boyfriend from your comfortable seat, settled under your blanket waiting for the movie to start. rafe’s talking to kelce and topper about something quietly, adjusting his backwards cap and staring straight ahead—at people you recognize as the pogues he’s been terrorizing as of late. you rise from your position, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. kelce and topper stop talking, getting into their chairs when rafe turns to talk to you.

“yes, princess? what now?” 

you should be good—rafe always tell you to keep your nose out of his business stuff, especially when he’s making his rounds at a party trying to sell coke. you usually always comply anyways, not asking questions since the first time and not caring either, as long he swears he’s safe and not doing as much of the stuff as he used to—but this isn’t about his business. you can tell there’s something going on with those pogues and he’s planning something that you want to make him stop.

“movie’s starting. and i want a soda.” 

“kelce, give her your soda,” rafe says, turning back around to finish his conversation, when you interrupt. you shake your head at kelce, who holds the pepsi can in his hand, stopping right as he was about to toss it to you.

“it’s not diet, rafe,” you comment with a sweet smile, hoping you can distract him from whatever he’s trying to talk about with his boys.

“really kid? i think you’ll be fine-”

“please, rafe?” you interrupt again, pouting. he shouldn’t have given up so easily—but your pout is one of those things he can’t resist. 

“pain in my ass, kid, really.” you smile at rafe, thanking him while he grumbles. “you better sit tight and watch this stupid movie after this-”

“popcorn too! do you guys want anything?” you turn, asking kelce and topper.

“all good, thanks princess.” you crinkle your nose and turn back, not really liking it when anyone but rafe addresses you like that—it feels like a joke when they say it.

rafe comes back with your stuff, handing it to you with a roll of his eyes, but you notice he’s smiling when you thank him. you curl up next to him on the same chair, head on his chest trying to watch the movie. you notice he’ll turn to look at kelce and topper, and then the pogues sitting ahead of you. 

each time he starts looking, you try to distract him, bringing your straw or a piece of popcorn up to his mouth, and then he looks down at you instead, with a sweet smile and a kiss to the top of your head. 

you should have guessed it would only work for so long—the two pogue boys get up and the three boys with you rise instantly too. in a desperate attempt to keep him with you, you drop the soda onto the grass and call to your boyfriend before he gets too far.

“rafe, uhm, this spilled so i need a new one-”

“one minute, princess, i’ll be right back-”

“no, rafe, wait-” but he’s gone before you can say or do anything else.

you sit in the lawn chair, too distracted to focus on the movie, worried about what rafe is gonna do to them. it’s only a few minutes later that you hear screaming, and look up to see the entire projector screen aflame. you get up immediately, panicking at the horde of people trying to get away, when you take a step backwards and bump into something hard. you yelp, but familiar hands hold you hard and guide you out back to the parking lot, hands that can only belong to your boyfriend.

you don’t get a clear look at rafe until he parks at tannyhill—a pink and red lesion on his cheek that wasn’t there before. 

“rafe, your face-”

“kid, why d’you think i’m trying to take care of business with these pogues? huh?” you’re silent, not able to compose any kind of answer that would make sense. 

“i-i don’t-”

“exactly. you don’t know. these, these pogues? they’re fuckin’ crazy. they held a gun to top’s head. they set that fire, not carin’ who would get hurt.” he watches you stare at him with big eyes and parted lips, taking in everything he’s saying. he knows it’s a little manipulative, not giving you any context or telling you he caved in pope’s face with a nine-iron. you’re listening, and paying attention, finally. “let you get away with a lot of stuff, kid. don’t make me regret it.” 

like he doesn’t know why you make him go buy soda or try to distract him with a kiss at the beach or at the club. he brushes it aside because he likes to let you think you’re getting away with it.

“have you learned your lesson about interferin’?” you nod eagerly. “good girl. now c’mon.” he takes you upstairs to his bedroom and lets you apologize down on your knees.

“good fuckin’ girl-” is what comes out of rafe’s mouth when you settle infront of him, on your knees, hands unbuckling his belt. he repeats it, but it comes out as a grunt when you take him into your mouth, big, watery eyes staring up at him while you impale your throat with his thick cock. he wipes the tears away with his free hand, the other one gripping your hair while he slides your mouth up and down with his motions.

“that’s right, nothin’ to say now, huh? good girl, don’t worry, i’ll forgive you. you gonna meddle again? hm?” he pulls you off, your mouth letting go with a little pop sound. 

“no, no, never again-”

“good girl,” and he brings your mouth right back.

[blackelysian]

Situationship.

Duke Dennis x Black! Fem! Reader as Makena

Word Count: 1,449

Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff, toxic relationship

Summary: Tired of this situationship between you and Duke you decide its just better to end things. Duke wants to make it right.

Makena POV

A sigh escaped my lips as I aimlessly scroll through my phone. It was now 3 am and Duke still wasn’t here yet. I sent a text to his phone for the one hundredth time.

                                                                       It's late, don't even worry about coming anymore… Sent.

No reply. Once again.

I watched his story and saw that he posted something 30 minutes ago. He was out with his friends at some party or function with some bitch grabbing his face. At that point I was fed up, annoyed and kinda hurt. I throw my phone to the side and sit up. He’s been blowing me off all night after he told me he was coming over so we could spend some time together. One stop and I'm on my way, I Love you”  was the last response I got from him. Tears streamed down my face. Not only was I mad at him I was mad at myself for even allowing my feelings to get wrapped up in whatever you wanna call this. Duke and I have been messing around for almost a year now but he never officially asked me to be his girlfriend. He helps me with my bills, buys me whatever I want, fucks me good, but there was no actual commitment. He uses the excuse of he doesn’t want to hurt me, but this hurts way worse. My thoughts were interrupted by my phone dinging, indicating I had just got a text. I hover my face over my phone revealing the message from him. 

Im outside

I layed back down on the bed ignoring his text. Next thing I know I hear my front door unlocking.

I groaned annoyingly. I need to get my key back from this nigga. I can hear his feet making their way to my bedroom before he slides my door open, stumbling in. He casually makes his way over to me leaning down to peck me on the lips but he was met with the palm of my hand.

“So you just goin walk in here late as a motherfucka and act like nothing's wrong??” She raised her voice at him.

“Come on boo don’t start that, i'm here now right? That's all that should matter'' He asks nonchalantly, going back in for another attempted kiss. I quickly jumped up and moved around him.

“You know, I don’t think I wanna do this anymore Duke..”I say looking away from him.

“Do what Makena?”

“THIS” I raise my voice again, pointing between the two of us. “This is getting old and I'm tired of sitting around waiting on you to see how good of a woman I am..tired of waiting on you to respect me! I’m done.” I snapped. 

“What do you mean you're done?”

“I'm done, We are done! And you need to give me back my key!” He chuckles at me.

“You trippin’ im not going any fucking where” He simply says, slideing his shoes off.

“Why don’t you just let me go Duke?” I questioned. “Why continue to string me along huh? You don’t want to be with me at this point so what's the point of keeping this going?”

“Makena,You know I love you. I just don't want to hurt you” He states, pulling me in front of him.

“You don’t think this hurts already?” I hold my hand up. “You know what, I just want you to go, i'll give you a minute to get whatever stuff you have here and leave my fuckin key” I turn my back to him not even giving him a chance to respond, heading for the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. I needed to clear my mind and hopefully by the time I got out that asshole would be gone for good.

Omniscient POV

After about 20 minutes, Duke enters the bathroom. He sees Makena’s naked silhouette through the foggy glass shower. He looks over to see her music softly playing from her bluetooth speaker. He quickly strips out of his clothes and slides in the steaming hot shower. The breeze runs a chill down Makena’s spine as he slides the door back closed. 

She quickly turns around. “I thought I told you to go?” She asks, rolling her eyes.

“We not done talking yet” He wraps his arms around her, bringing her body close to his.

“Duke, please don’t do this to me right now. Just let me go and leave” she says, trying to unwrap his arms from around her. He holds her tight.

“What do you want? Whatever you want I’ll give it to you. Just don’t leave me baby” 

“He can’t be serious..” She thought. But with the look on his face she knew this was far from a joke. But she couldn’t give in. What would he think of her if she just took him back so easily? Why now did he want to do the right thing? 

“It's a little too late fo-”

“Be my girlfriend?” He cuts her off, looking in her eyes with adoration.

“Wow really?” She asks sarcastically. “ Now you want to ask me? It's only because I'm telling you I'm done with you that you want to act right now” She says disgustingly, rolling my eyes and pushing him away from her. 

“Baby I'm serious!” He exclaims, grabbing her again. “I can’t lose you, whatever you want me to do I'll do it. I want to make it right, I have to make it right. Give me just one more chance and I promise we won’t have to have this conversation no more”

“I don’t know what to say Duke…” She says lowly, looking down and away from him. He drops to his knees in the oversized walk in shower, grabbing onto her waist. He places gentle kisses along her stomach trailing down to her womanhood. 

“Say yes” He says softly, placing a kiss right on top of her clit. Her breath hitches in her throat. 

“Say yes baby..” He throws her left leg over his shoulder and places a few more kisses on her wet center before completely devouring her. He made sure to take his time pleasing her. He wanted to show her that he meant what he said.

“Duke..no” She trails off, throwing her head back as he lapped her up like a thirsty dog. His thumb finds her clit drawing small circles on it. 

“Be my girlfriend baby” He says again, looking up to watch her love faces. She begins to feel her orgasm build in her stomach as she grinds down on his face. “Shit i'm almost there” She gasps. He stops immediately, getting up and turning off the shower before picking her up and walking her out the shower. 

“You don’t get to cum until you say yes.” He wraps a towel around her wet body, bending her over the sink, the two making eye contact in the mirror. She could see the lust and longing in his face. He rubs his member up and down her slick womanhood before roughly sliding into her in one swift motion. 

“Fuck” she groaned out as he starting to deliver rough,delicious strokes. 

“You goin be my girlfriend baby?” He asks yet again, brushing some of her curls out her face. Her mouth falls open but nothing comes out. He delivers a smack to her ass. “Answer me baby” He groans, going deeper bottoming out. 

“Oh shitt, Yess” She moans out blissfully.

“Say it” He says, pulling out and sitting on the side of the tub, pulling her back on him and sliding in again. He starts to work her up and down his member.

“Say it Makena” He states firmly.

“Ima be your girlfriend babyy” She blurts out.

“Yea?” He says with a smile, kissing you along the side of your face and neck as he still bounces you on him. Makena starts to throw it back on him, pulling out her best moves to show him that it doesn’t get any better than this. 

“Oh fuckk mama” He grunts, grabbing the back of her neck turning her to face him. 

“Gimme kiss” They lean into each other and give each other the sloppiest kiss ever. 

“Hmmm baby im cumming” She cries out, picking up her speed.

“Cum on your dick” His words were like a catalyst for her orgasm, which rips through her like a tornado. He finishes right behind her, pulling out and releasing on the rug. She turns to kiss him once again.

“Mm we not finished yet. I still have a lot of making up to do.” He says with a lustful grin on his face.

A/N: Makena definitely DID NOT stand on business 😭😭

[starkeysprincess]

I definitely see stepbro!rafe spoiling you with all the cute girly things you could ever want, of course including clothes, but he isn’t afraid to be absolutely heartless if he’s upset with you. Let me explain. I am a visionary so there’s details.😌

Ok so he calls you into his room, right? He’s got certain pieces from each outfit you’ve worn over the past week. He explains that since you enjoy his other punishments so much, he has to be more harsh, and these are all the things you’ve worn lately that he deems slutty. He picks up your loveshackfancy skirt you walked around showing the entire country club his ass in, rips it right in half. The for love and lemons milkmaid dress you wore to happy hour that had Topper and Kelce shifting in their seats, torn right down the front, buttons flying everywhere. and he keeps going as you’re standing there crying begging him to stop, until he gets to what might as well be the the Mona Lisa to you; your vintage pink Dior denim miniskirt that as far as you knew, was the last existing one in the world that you had went to the ends of to find.

It was also what you were wearing just last night during Rafe’s party when you were drunkenly dancing on top of the counter, flashing everybody within sight your bare cunt before Rafe hurled you over his shoulder and brought you upstairs to “put you to bed.” He was so beside himself, he told you you’d both deal with it the next day too, and now here you were, about to watch him destroy your most prized possession.

Within a split second you’re trying to run out the door and screaming for Ward, and he yanks you into him by your hair as he claps his hand over your mouth. “Will you shut the fuck up?” You obviously keep fighting and squirming until he turns you around “ALRIGHT ALRIGHT…look, kid, be quiet. I’m not gonna rip it. just don’t get me in trouble and I’ll buy you all new shit. Same stuff. Right now, yeah?” When you nod and sigh in relief he takes his hand off your mouth. You make him promise but he also makes you agree to take an extra punishment “otherwise I’ll rip the shit right in half and you can cry to my dad all you want” and you’re begging and pleading telling him you’ll do whatever he wants, just spare your precious skirt.

“Okay,” He’d say. “Well then you better pray to Dior himself that you can handle an hour of this tonight while everyone’s sleeping” smirking and pulling a magic wand out of his night table. “Fight with me and it’ll be til fuckin’ morning.” All you can do is stare in dread.

nonnie, thank you for being a visionary 🙏🏽

his mean ass would pull this shit and when you’re starting to cry because those are all of your favorite pieces, his dick is twitching in his pants but as soon as you’re trying to run out the room to yell for ward, he’s yanking you back into the room, his chest pressed against your back and covering your mouth, telling you to shut the fuck up

telling him you’ll do whatever he wants is practically fucking music to his ears because that’s exactly what he was hoping you’d say and you know you’re in for it when he pulls out the magic wand, goosebumps littering your skin from the last time he used it on you

[dreamskug]

[ SUBJECT INTERVIEW: ÍVARR ]

NICKNAME:

NOT "Gramps". Not for you, anyway. Just my name.

GENDER:

Male.

STAR SIGN:

Why, checking if we’d match? Hah. Was told I’m a Scorpio. 'That check out?

HEIGHT:

With platforms or without?

ORIENTATION:

If we vibe, nothing else matters. An incubus with neat taste in personalities, I guess.

NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY:

So, some Scandinavian blood in me - half, actually. Can speak the language, too - 'least something neat daddy gave me, not that the fucker's outdone himself in parenting. Mom’s an American, born in Badlands. Ever heard of her clan? Messed with witchcraft a lot, and summoning even more. Know what I’m getting at? A perfect fuckin' match, weren't they?

FAVE FRUIT:

- Yeah no. Don't even start with anything citrus. Especially don't peel this shit in front of me, alright? Nasty shit. [Interviewer]: - Just wondering, how do you feel about cardboard boxes? [Ívarr] : - Ain't purring for you, man. But nice one.

FAVE SEASON:

Fuck summer. You ever felt what's that like - the real winter nights? Pitch fuckin' dark - quiet so thick you hear the snow falling. First time I saw those snowflakes as a kid - can swear I thought they were bees.

FAVE FLOWER:

Cherry blossoms? The fuck I know, man. Ask my mainline, I grab whatever he likes.

FAVE SCENT:

Expecting me to be like - "Muahaha, the smell of fear"? Seriously, it's apparently a pheromone released in your sweat or some shit. C'mon I'm joking, it isn't my fav - keeps stinking up this damn city. Alright, a freshly baked cake is something I'd kill for.

COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE:

Yeah coffee I guess? Rich, strong, black, with a splash of something fun, make it whiskey.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:

Woke up just yesterday 'cause my mainline was pulling back my eyelid, imagine? Scared the fuck out of him, no seriously, can sleep through a fuckin' bomb and I'm not joking. Average hours - a shitton honestly? That's how I got my very first cat - Dad got enough of me breaking down every single morning, cause fuck mornings. And he'd be like - this is Snowy, she's gonna live with us and she already had her breakfast, so get the fuck up. How'd I argue with Snowy? You don't mess with Snowy.

DOG OR CAT PERSON:

See? Check it out - cat fur. Here too. I'm claimed, man - gave up cleaning it up a long time ago. Not to be dramatic, but if there's anything human in me left - it's for them. Fur kids, all mine, what can I say. Two of them adopted - and you bet each of them has a bigger personality than an average gonk.

DREAM TRIP:

Dream trip, jeez... Somewhere not fucking hot?

FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER:

Balrog has style, y'know? Gotta be honest, I feel for the dude. Imagine yourself sleeping deep within the mountains for thousands of years to get awoken by a bunch of motherfuckers? I'd go nuclear too. And this one too, ehh you know GoT? The Targaryen, her, yeah. Burn them all, girl. Boss move.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH:

Man, your questions. I dunno, a half? With my ass covered, or not at all. Bed king sized, lights out, make it pitch black with the window open and you got me passed out.

RANDOM FACT:

One doesn't have to actually summon a demon to get them to come play, d'you know? There's one watching you through my eyes right fuckin' now. Should I introduce him?

Late to the party, but I remember many of y'all have more than one OC or just created new pixel babies that haven't participated yet, so I'm tagging (with no pressure):

@therealnightcity @wraithsoutlaws @sammysilverdyne @theviridianbunny @th3irin

@a-pirate @chessalein @halkuonn @luvwich @shimmer-like-agirl

@kdval @cybersteal @cyberholic77 @chevvy-yates @morganlefaye79

@anxious--ace @mhbcaps @wormskul @silver-samurai @androgymess

@winkyblinkyandstew @astarionhistears @valsilverhand @drunkchasind @themermaidriot

@pinkyjulien @skelior @medtech-mara @lokiina @timaeusterrored

@tokyofuturnoir @aggravateddurian @sifofasgard @elfjpeg @aurorartz

@lucky38-2077 @dustymagpie @gloryride @stannussy and anyone else who wants to! Also pls DM me if you don't wanna get tagged🖤

[bkgml]

drunk katsuki!

katsuki hates drinking.

he hates not having a filter on his thoughts. he hates the thought of someone getting injured while he was too drunk to protect them.

though, the thing he hates most right now, is the fact that you’re not beside him. you had to work late tonight and told katsuki to go out with his friends. maybe you’d come later in the night but it’s plausible that you’d be much too tired.

katsuki never let’s himself get drunk.

he’s missing you though. let’s himself have more drinks than he should’ve so he could make up for the fact that you’re not there.

it takes two hours for kiri (tonight’s designated driver) to notice katsukis drunk.

at first glance he looks like his normal self, arms crossed in front of him, frown on his face.

if you take a closer look though, his crossed arms are actually hugging himself and his frown is more of a pout.

“bakubro! what’s up!” he says, making his way over to him.

katsuki lets out a little grumble? whine?? kiri isn’t sure.

“where’s my girl?” katsuki frowns, looking around the bar.

kirishima lets out a little laugh and bakugou glares at him.

“yn’s working tonight, remember? she should be back home by now, but she’s tired, long day.”

“stupid fuckin work. i want her with me.” katsuki pouts, his voice getting softer.

“you’ll see her tomorrow! just enjoy the party tonight!” kirishima attempts to cheer up his friend.

katsuki whips his head in kirishimas direction.

“tomorrow? i won’t see her tonight??” he sounds desperate.

“uh no, bro. first thing tomorrow, promise.”

“i need her now, kiri.” katsuki pleads.

kirishima pauses. when had he ever called him kiri? or begged??

“um i mean i could call her?” kirishima offers.

“yeah! yesyesyeysyes.” he slurs.

you are so tired. you want to go to sleep so bad right now. you were supposed to go to the bar with your friends but, god, you’re so tired.

*incoming call from: kiri*

you groan. that’s probably kiri trying to get you to the bar.

“hey, yn. im sorry if i woke you” he doesn’t sound like his normal cheery self.

“hey, normally you’d be yelling in my ear to get me to party. is everything alright? where’s katsuki?” you say, concerned.

“put it on speakerrrrr.” a distant voice calls to kirishima.

“alright, alright. yn we’re on speaker now.”

you can hear the sounds of the bar in the background, mina and kami squealing at each other, the clanging of beer bottles, the tv in the back with some sports game on it.

“ynnnnnn.” katsuki says, interrupting your train of thought.

“katsuki? are you drunk??” you say, stunned.

“that’s not importanttttt. why aren’t you hereeee, you’re so warm and soft, want you here.” you can practically hear his pout. katsukis never drunk.

“kirishima? why is he drunk?”

“i don’t know, this is new to me. would you pick him up? it doesn’t look like he wants to be here-“

“HEY DONT IGNORE ME!” katsuki shouts.

“hey kiri can you pass the phone to him?”

kirishima does as he’s told.

“babyyyyyy, *hiccup* why aren’t you here with me? want your pretty face beside me all the time.”

“i know, kats, i wanna be with you all the time too. i’m going to come get you okay? you should keep quiet until i get there cause kami’s going to record you if he sees you.” you say to avoid arguments between katsuki and kaminari the following day.

“mmmkay. i’ll always listen to you, pretty. you’re so smart.” katsuki says, dazed.

“okay, bye, katsuki, bye kiri!” you say, grabbing your keys.

when you arrive at the bar you text kirishima to bring katsuki to the car.

a couple minutes go by and kirishima comes out, holding katsuki close beside him.

you get out of the car to meet them.

“yn!!” katsuki cheers.

“hi, kats, did you have too many drinks?”

“nu uh.” he defends.

“here you go.” kirishima says as he gently pushes katsuki to you.

he leans on you, arms around your waist, and face in your neck.

you rub his back.

“hi.” katsuki says shyly, rubbing his nose into your neck.

“hi.” you whisper back.

“thanks a lot, kiri.” you say, grateful for your friend.

“anytime! see you guys!” kirishima waves and turns on his heel, heading back into the bar.

“where do you want to sit katsuki? beside me? or in the back so you can lay down?” you ask.

“wanna sit beside you.” he says, pecking your cheek.

you struggle to get him in his seat, with him not wanting to stop holding you.

“okay, there you go katsuki. i’m just going to go around to my seat, kay?” trying to get him to let go of your arm.

“mmmmmfh. fine.” he huffs, letting go of your arm to cross his own, and turning his head away from you.

you close his door, walking around to your side and getting in.

“hi!” katsuki uncrosses his arms and reaches out to grab you hand.

seems he forgot he was mad.

“hi.” you say, lovingly smoothing his hair.

as you drive home katsuki leans over the console to rest his head on your shoulder.

“we’re home, kats!” you say, excited to get in bed.

“home?” he questions.

“uh huh, come on let’s go inside.” you get out of the car, heading to his door and opening it for him.

he sighs in relief.

“i thought you were going in without me.” he pouts and you laugh.

“without you? never. i need my favourite boy inside with me.” you say and grab his hand, helping him step out of the car.

as you unlock the front door katsuki presses his cheek to your back and holds your waist.

“okay katsuki, can you walk to the bedroom alone? i just want to get you some water.” you say heading to the kitchen.

you grab a glass and pour some water into it. then, you head out past the front hall on your way to the bedroom but you still see katsuki standing in the front hall.

“what’s up, kats, why aren’t you in the bedroom?” you ask.

“don’t wanna go without you.” he pouts.

you laugh.

“okay.” you grab his hand.

“let’s go together then, yeah?” you say, walking to your room hand in hand.

“mmm bed.” katsuki says as you get into your bedroom, flopping onto the bed in his clothes,

“don’t fall asleep yet, katsuki.” you say.

“fine.” he says sitting up.

you give him his glass of water to drink.

then you make him stand up and undress him to his boxers.

“why’re you trying to see me naked?” he laughs to himself.

“you like what you see?”

“get in bed, katsuki.” you laugh.

“you come too?” he asks.

“uh huh, move over.” you say patting his thigh.

he moves so you can get in.

as you shuffle into the sheets and pull the covers over the two of you, katsuki sits up on his forearms so he can lay between your legs with his head on your chest.

“hi.” he says, eyes closing.

“hi.” you whisper back, threading your fingers through his hair.

[mustainegf]

hiii can you please write reader helping 1984 era james during a panic attack? thank you!!! ps, i really love your stuff 😊

This is so sad, I’m such a sap for sad James, I feel so bad for him and his past, and everything he’s gone through :(

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀, 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐆𝐎 ¹⁹⁸⁴

It's always the same in this house on Mother's Day. James in the shadow of the living room, his eyes far away, his movement slower than usual. I feel it, even before seeing him. The day presses upon his shoulders, even before he has risen from bed.

Lars already stands in the kitchen, his voice shouting through the thin walls. He's always got some story to tell, and today it's about his mom. Something about him being eighteen, sneaking out to some party, and coming home to her waiting with a smirk and a cup of tea. The laughter in his voice is a knife to the room, cutting through the silence James seems to be clutching to.

I glance over at him. He sits up on the couch, hunched, his hands clamped into the arms of the chair a little too tightly. His jaw is clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Mother's day had always been brutal, as far as James was concerned. His mom had died when he was 16, a slow, painful battle with cancer that he never really got to process, not fully. And his dad? He'd left when James was 13. The scar still bled sometimes.

Lars is oblivious, his laughter filling the house as he pours another bowl of cereal. I want to stop him, turn the conversation in another direction, but it's too late. James is getting smaller in his skin, shrinking away from the room.

Then it does. He's off in an instant, out of the room and wordless, fists clenched. Lars stops midsentence, looking puzzled. I know better. I flash a hasty smile at him as if to say, it's fine, and follow James out into the hallway.

He paces around our little bedroom. His hands shake, his breathing hoarse. The door stands open, but somehow it seems shut to me. He doesn't notice me at first, he's too far inside his head, tracing and retracing the same dark grooves he always follows on days like today.

"James?" I say softly, coming in. He straightens, rigid, his back to me, his shoulders shaking.

"Don't," he says, his voice tight. "Just… don't."

But I just can't leave him like this. Not today. I shut the door behind me and take another step forward, to reach out for him, and he pulls away, turning to face me. His eyes are bloodshot, his face streaked with tears, and there's anger there, burning anger.

"I hate it," he spits, voice shaking. "Every fucking year. It's just this wound that doesn't heal. I wake up and it's just...there. Like she just died all over again. And Lars-" He breaks off. "He's in there, laughing, telling stories like everything's fucking fine, like we all have these great memories. But I don't. I never had that. My dad left. My mom…" He trails off, shaking his head harshly.

I step closer, my heart aching for him. "I know, James. I know today is hard for you."

"Hard?" He laughs bitterly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's not just hard, it's hell. I didn't even get to say goodbye to her. I didn't know how. I was just a stupid fuckin' kid trying to act like everything was okay. And now… now I hardly remember her voice anymore. I don't remember what she smelled like, or how she used to hum while she was cooking. It's all.. fucking gone." He starts pacing again, this time faster as his breathing quickens. "And my dad… He wasn't even bothered to stick around. He just left and was never seen again. What does that tell you about me? What am I?"

I move toward him slow and careful, like he's some injured animal that will strike out. "It doesn't make you anything, James. It isn't your fault. None of this is your fault."

But he's spiraling now, his breathing getting faster and faster as his chest rises and falls like he can't get enough air. His eyes are wild, unfocused, and I can feel the panic setting in, wrapping itself around him.

"I can't breathe," he chokes out, clutching at his shirt. "I can't-"

"James, look at me," I continue firmly, stepping in front of him, both of his hands in mine. "You need to breathe, okay? Just breathe with me."

He's shaking so hard now, and I help him down to the floor, kneeling with him while he struggles to pull in air. I know if I don't get him to calm down, it's going to get worse.

"Listen to my voice, okay?" I whisper, taking his face between my hands and making him focus on me. "Breathe with me. In… and out. Nice and slow. You can do this. Just breathe."

He nods, but it's shaky, and his breath is still ragged. I keep my hands on his face, making sure not to get my body too close, and make him panic more.

"In," I whisper. "Out. You're all right. I'm here. You aren't alone."

His breathing starts to calm, just a little, but enough. I feel his hands unclenching. But he's still crying, silent tears shooting down his face as he fights against not falling apart. It truly is heartbreaking hearing his little hiccups and sniffles.

"I'm sorry," he whispers with a breaking voice. "I'm sorry I'm like this."

I shake my head, tugging him closer as I wrap my arms around him. "You don't need to apologize, James. For this. Never."

We sat there for at least an hour, the two of us on the floor, holding each other. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, the rise and fall of his breathing as it starts to even out. But I know the pain is still in his heart, and deep down, I know it always will be.

My heart shatters more with the though, the mere idea, that at the bare soul, he's just that same 16 year old boy, who needs his mama.

"I miss her," he finally whispers, hardly audible. "I miss her so much."

"I know," I reply softly, my fingers moving down through his wavy sandy hair. "I know you do."

As the minutes tick by, I can feel him start to come back to me, piece by piece. At last he tugs back, wiping at his face with shaking hand. "Thanks..." he whispers softly.

"Don't thank me, baby." I smile at him, brushing a tear from his cheek.

"All I want you to do, is remember her."

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

Hiiiii! Love love LOVE your writing!!! Babe, can I request a little something with drunk Joel 🙏 He gets all lovey dovey with you and you ride him while he praises tf out of you💕

hello!! i've written you this lil thing, i hope you like it! <3

says it feels like heaven to him

pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ mdni)

word count: 1.4k

summary:

joel comes home from poker night feeling frisky.

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no age reference, dub con - sex while one party is intoxicated, no use of y/n, oral sex (f receiving), face sitting, that brief universal fear of actually sitting on the person's face, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, multiple orgasms, girl on top, unprotected p in v. let me know if there are any that are missing!

Joel’s not quiet when he comes home late from poker night down at the Tipsy Bison. You hear the door open and slam shut, the sound of him cursing as he struggles with the laces on his boots, followed by the muffled thump of them dropping to the floor beside the small bench just inside the front door. 

He climbs the stairs, heavy footsteps echoing in the hall outside the bedroom. You watch the door open slightly, his head of messy dark curls streaked with gray poking through. When he sees you’re awake, a bright grin spreads over his features and he throws the door open wide.

“Hey, baby,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re awake.”

“Well, if I wasn’t, you would have woken me up,” you reply, voice teasing. He steps into the room, coming up to the side of the mattress that you’re lying on. 

He plucks the book from your hands, setting it on the nightstand before throwing back the covers from your body. You make a noise of annoyance that’s cut off by his lips descending on yours, warm and slightly chapped, his mouth carrying the taste of whiskey as your tongue moves against his. He crawls up onto the bed with you, situating himself between your legs and grinding his hips against yours, making you gasp.

He breaks the kiss, lifting himself slightly to look down at you as he drags a broad palm across your thigh and slips it beneath the hem of the t-shirt you wore to bed that night. You arch into the touch, his fingers finding a tight nipple and giving it a brief pinch.

“Your tits are so fuckin’ perfect,” he groans. He sits back on his heels, grabbing at the hem of your shirt and urging you to sit up so he tug it over your head and drop it onto the floor. He’s on you even before your back hits the mattress, lips encircling one of your nipples as he groans appreciatively. The sharp sting of teeth makes you yelp and you can feel the way he smiles against your chest.

“Joel,” you whine, “be nice.”

“I think I’m bein’ real nice, sweetheart,” he replies, switching to your other breast and giving it the same attention. He sucks and licks and bites at your chest to his heart’s desire, leaving you panting and sensitive. 

Finally, he backs off, kissing down your stomach and stopping at the elastic of your underwear. He sits back again, this time curling his fingers into the elastic and tugging your last article of clothing off your body. He looks down at you, dark eyes sparkling in the dim light as he moves over to the other side of the bed, where he typically sleeps, lying on his back and looking at you expectantly.

“Sit on my face,” he says, smiling like a kid on Christmas. 

“Joel—“

“Don’t Joel me, I know what I want and I want that pretty pussy right here.” He points to his face. “Come on, gorgeous girl.”

Your face feels hot as you shuffle awkwardly to your knees, throwing one leg across his chest. His hands grip the flesh of your ass, dragging you closer, manhandling you until your pussy hovers just above his face, knees on either side of his head.

“So fuckin’ wet already,” he says, running a knuckle through your folds and making you gasp, balance faltering until you reach out to grip the headboard for stability. “Hang on, sweetheart.”

He tugs you down harshly until you’re quite literally sitting on his face, his tongue lavishing your clit with attention that makes you cry out, hips rocking into the sensation. You try to subtly lift back up, to give him more breathing room, but his arms wrap around your thighs with an iron grip and hold you steadfastly against his mouth.

Joel licks over every inch of your pussy, tongue circling your clit and dipping inside of you, the wet sounds of his actions interrupted only by his appreciative groans. You lose yourself to the heat of his between your thighs, rocking slightly over him, the tip of his strong nose catching your clit as his tongue presses inside of you. 

“Joel,” you moan, releasing one hand from the headboard and burying it into his thick curls. “Joel, I’m gonna cum.”

He hums, the vibration of it making your thighs clench against his head. He focuses all his attention on your clit, licking and sucking and rolling it between his lips until you’re shaking with your release above him, crying out his name over and over. You shuffle down his body and he looks up at you with a rapturous expression, sparse beard glistening with your wetness.

“Fuck, that was so good,” he says. His hands fumble with his belt and the fly of his jeans while you straddle his chest, catching your breath. “Now I need you to cum all over my cock, okay? Just move yourself down a little bit for me.”

You shuffle down his body until you’re spread out over his hips and he’s running the thick head of his cock through the mess he’s made, catching at your entrance for the briefest moment, not enough to satisfy you. You whine and Joel laughs, a deep rumble of self-satisfaction.

“Somethin’ you want, darlin’?” He asks, doing it again, pressing deep enough that his tip is inside of you. “Use your words, baby.”

“Want your cock,” you murmur, shifting your hips to take more of him inside of you. He moans, hips flexing and pushing himself deeper still. 

“Take it then, baby, s’all yours,” he says. You slide down his length until he’s buried deep, cock stretching you perfectly like it always does. His eyes are half lidded as he looks up at you and as you lift yourself up and drop back down, they shut tightly as a moan spills from his lips.

“Yes, yes, fuck, that’s so fuckin’ good,” he says, fingers digging into your thighs. “So tight and wet, fuck, can’t believe you’re all mine, sweetheart.”

His praise has you moving your hips faster, rocking over him desperately as each drag of his cock from your body hits a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. You sit up straight and lean back, hands on his denim covered thighs as you roll your hips, and filthy words spill from Joel’s lips as you work yourself over his cock.

“So perfect, Christ, so fuckin’ perfect…”

“Amazing, baby, keep goin’, just like that…”

“Take my cock like you were made for it, sweetheart…”

“Need more,” you whine. “Please, Joel, I’m so close.”

His thumb circles your clit with sloppy motions and you cry out, going still as your orgasm crashes over you and your cunt pulses around Joel. He waits until your muscles relax, shoulders dropping and legs no longer pressed tightly to his hips before urging you down to the mattress, lying on your side. He shoves his jeans off, kicking them gracelessly from the bed before lying down, facing you. 

He scooches close, grabbing your top leg and settling it over his hip so that he can slide himself back inside of you with a groan. He thrusts inside of your sensitive pussy, holding your ass with a tight grip and using the leverage to drag your body over his cock as well.

“Did so well for me, baby,” he says, his sharp motions making you gasp. “Feels like I died and went to heaven when you’re cummin’ on my cock like that.”

You lean your face closer to capture his lips in a kiss, his tongue still carrying the taste of you as it tangles with yours. His hips grow more frantic, losing their purposeful rhythm as he chases his release. When he’s close, he pulls out, rubbing himself over your belly until his cock pulses, warm cum splashing against your skin as he moans into your mouth.

As Joel comes down from his own high, his eyes flutter open to look at you, clearer than when he’d come into the house. He sits up, taking his shirt off and using it to clean the mess from your belly. When he’s done, he tosses it to the floor and manhandles you under the covers, pulling you close as you giggle. 

“You have a good time at poker night?” You ask.

“Mm, had a better time after,” he says, burying his face against your neck. You run your fingers through his hair and he sighs. 

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Me, too.”

Check out my Joel Miller masterlist

[jsluvtzu]

strawberry kisses (pt. 1)

park jihyo x fem!reader

summary: sweet reminders of who you belong to

cw: smut!!! men dni, cheating-ish?, jihyo’s realll jealous and realllll possessive, choking, marking

wc: 2.9k

a/n: i got this idea while listening to mina’s bridge in first time 😭 everybody say thank you jihyo for putting that pen to work!

the lively restaurant was filled with laughter and half-sober words all around you.

your girlfriend brought you along with her to a dinner with her biker friends: nayeon, momo, and sana.

jihyo had always been a motorcycle enthusiast — she and her friends would constantly go on late night rides together at times that no normal person would be awake.

but recently, things at work had been so hectic that her bike was instead left to collect dust in your garage.

hectic enough to the point where you two hadn’t fucked in three weeks.

any time you wanted to initiate anything intimate with her it was always “i’m too tired”, or, “maybe tomorrow”.

obviously, this meant you were beyond horny.

you were desperate for any form of relief — even just a simple thigh ride while jihyo typed away on her laptop would have sufficed.

but, meeting after meeting, file after file, the work was never ending for jihyo.

your girlfriend’s career had officially stolen her away from you.

until you decided to drag her up from the deep ocean of stress she was drowning in that night.

—

“come onnn, y/n! stop being so lame, ‘js take the damn shot,” nayeon slurred, hoping to encourage you to be on the same level of drunk as her.

“one more shot won’t hurt you, y/n..” sana’s sweet voice joined nayeon’s drunken one in peer pressuring you.

you sighed out dramatically and scoffed at the way you were so easily influenced around them, “alrightt, alright. i’ll do it.”

cheers erupted from the both of them who excitedly poured peach soju in your empty shot glass, spilling a quarter of the bottle in the process.

as you downed your now fourth shot of alcohol, you glanced to your right to see jihyo and momo engaged in some business talk.

momo was like jihyo’s advisor, always giving her pointers and tips about how to manage her substandard employees.

even at a dinner party she can’t seem to get her mind off of work, you thought — slightly disappointed, but also worried.

you shook your head and brought yourself back to your distractions for the night, tipsily conversing with jihyo’s drunk friends about what it would feel like to wake up as a man one day.

while nayeon and sana were debating with each other, the screeching of a scooted back chair caught your attention, your girlfriend suddenly getting up and leaving out the door.

slightly confused, your eyes followed her out into the window in front of the restaurant, only to see her on a phone call with her hand pressed to her forehead.

another fucking work call. you were somewhat angry at this point, and — who keeps rubbing on your thigh?

“you’re soooo fuckin’ pretty, y/n.. ‘wouldn’t even know what to do with all this.” nayeon snuck her way unnecessarily closer to you while you were focused on fighting your girlfriend in your head.

her hand trailed up your exposed thigh from the short black skirt you wore, rubbing at your soft flesh as she mumbled intoxicated things in your ear.

you turned your head down a bit to see nayeon resting her head on your shoulder, nibbling at your bare skin.

“nayeon.. what are you-”

“ ‘s okay, pretty, ‘s ‘js me.” nayeon interrupted as she kissed her way up to your neck.

you shifted yourself away from her touch, uncomfortable at her advances.

momo and sana scolded nayeon from across the table, “stop it before jihyo sees. and you know what she would do to you.” momo was currently the soberest one at the table, attempting to knock some sense into her friend.

“mmm don’t be ridiculous, she’s too busy with her dumb company to pay attention to us..”

nayeon inhaled the sweet vanilla perfume that jihyo loved on you, “god you smell good. ‘could eat you up right here..” she whispered the last part lowly, almost seductively.

it was hard for you to control yourself as the shots you took earlier were getting to you, and it wasn’t exactly a lie that you’d always found nayeon attractive.

but nayeon was right. jihyo was too busy to pay attention, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to make her pay attention for once.

sana and momo were eventually too occupied flirting with each other to see the smile forming on your face when you had your plan in mind.

from the angle the table was at, your seat was in perfect view for jihyo to see nayeon all over you.

whoever jihyo was arguing with over the phone, they had her pacing the sidewalk and getting visibly frustrated, gesturing her hands in the air to emphasize her words with venom laced behind them.

she faced you through the glass pane at the perfect moment when nayeon tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned in for a kiss.

you made direct eye contact with jihyo as you felt nayeon kiss you on the corner of your mouth, letting her messily peck at your lip gloss coated lips.

the way your girlfriend’s furrowed brows relaxed and her soft eyes turned dark only encouraged you to infuriate her even more.

and from the way it sounded, jihyo swung the door open with enough force to break it clean off the hinges.

her footsteps were heavy and intentional.

you slightly winced when jihyo grabbed your arm and forcefully yanked you out of nayeon’s grip.

“mm- the ‘fuck? heyyy.. jiii..hyo..?.. shit.” nayeon said, squinting through her drowsy eyes to make out your girlfriend’s hovering figure. she almost fell completely forward when you were pulled away as she was reliant on your body there to hold her up.

“y/n has to use the bathroom.”

“no i don-“

before you could even finish your sentence, you were already halfway on your way to the ladies’ room.

you were sure that jihyo’s grip on your bicep was strong enough to leave bruises later. not that you were complaining anyways.

she picked the furthest stall at the end of the room to cram the two of you in, pushing you in first and slamming the lock shut behind her.

immediately, you felt how cold her hands were from being outside as she wrapped her fingers around your throat in a tight enough squeeze to give you a rush.

your backside made contact with the flimsy wall, making a loud bang as she pinned you between it and her.

her leg was slotted perfectly between yours and you couldn’t resist the urge to lightly grind your clothed core against her denim covered thigh.

“thought you could get away with your little act huh? ‘tryna make me fuckin’ jealous or somethin’?” the increasingly tight grasp on your neck made your vision go blurry, “greedy slut just needs to be put in her place doesn’t she?”

you attempted to answer her, but you could only give her a lousy groan in response.

jihyo was eyeing you up and down with nothing but pure lust in her eyes.

weeks of not being able to taste you, touch you, feel you — jihyo was just as sexually frustrated as you were.

there was a moment of tension when her hands loosened and she carefully watched as you caught your breath, lips parted and eyelids half-open.

you broke the moment soon enough as you crashed your lips onto hers, moaning into the now sloppily paced make out session.

whines escaped your lips when jihyo pressed her thigh closer to your aching core, making your jaw drop even wider.

she took that opportunity to force her tongue into your mouth, claiming her territory and exploring you fully.

you stabilized yourself with your hands at her shoulders, her muscles insanely defined even through the thick leather jacket she had on.

your girlfriend broke the kiss with your bottom lip between her teeth, pulling away with a pop sound.

it wasn’t long until her lips found their way back to your skin, attacking your jaw and neck.

when you felt her sucking at your soft flesh in a pulsing rhythm, you remembered that you were still very much in public.

“w-wait- jihyo.. we still mmph- have to go out there-”

she laughed against your skin, biting at a new spot on your throat and soothing it with her tongue — the chemical taste of your expensive perfume teasing her tastebuds.

“am i supposed to care? you had no problem eating nayeon’s face in front of everybody,” her hand trailing up to unbutton your cropped cardigan, “more specifically, in front of me.” your collarbones now exposed and tempting her, “it’s only fair baby.”

jihyo left deep red hickeys on damn near every empty patch of skin on your neck — half of your chest and collarbones littered with bite marks and bruises.

she kissed over her last mark on you for now and leaned back to admire her work.

to her, it was better than any other project she had ever worked on.

“that’s good enough, love. let’s go, i’m not done with you.”

jihyo opened the stall door and walked out, running her fingers through her curled hair and leaving you to fix yourself on your own.

seeing yourself in the mirror was definitely a sight.

your hair was disheveled, clothes were out of place, lips were swollen, and the marks. god, the fucking marks she left on you should not have made you feel the way you did.

you were just relieved that nobody came in for the past 10 minutes as you hooked the last button of your baby blue sweater through its hole.

walking back out into the dining hall felt incredibly embarrassing knowing what you currently looked like — you tried sweeping your hair over your neck to cover up as best as you could.

jihyo was already getting your things together to leave when you got back to the table, ignoring the fact that nayeon’s eyes couldn’t leave your flushed face.

sana laughed in disbelief, “you guys are fucking nasty.”

you avoided prolonged eye contact with all three of them while saying your goodbyes and followed behind your still angry girlfriend.

her bike was parked alongside the curb next to the rest of theirs, but a special pink heart that she let you paint on the small windshield distinguished it from anyone else’s.

the wind kept blowing your hair from its designated spot and revealed your pretty marks to the people that passed by.

jihyo saw you hugging yourself as she set her bike up, taking off her leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

mumbling out a low thank you, you slid your arms through the sleeves and threw your leg over the seat, sitting directly and comfortably behind your girlfriend.

“helmet.” jihyo passed you a matching helmet that you two got for your anniversary last year over her shoulder.

you slid your head into its snug shell and adjusted it as jihyo revved her bike a couple times to warm it up.

wrapping your arms around her waist, you placed your feet up on the footrests and turned your head to the side, leaning down to rest it against her back.

the ride home felt like minutes thanks to jihyo’s aggressive speeding and weaving through crowded lanes.

you clung onto her for dear life when she would make sharp turns around a tight corner and gas it, a clear sign that you were in for a long night.

when you finally made it home, jihyo flipped the kickstand out with her foot and pulled her helmet off, her dark hair flowing out all at once.

you did the same, placing your helmet on the left handlebar and following her through your garage door.

jihyo headed upstairs without even looking back at you — she knew you wouldn’t be far behind.

when you reached the open door of your shared bedroom, you saw your girlfriend already shuffling through her nightstand, pulling out a pink silk tie that she only used when she intended on fucking you absolutely stupid.

“clothes off. you know what to do.” her tone sending chills down your spine as you stood frozen in place.

“no.” you said firmly — your heart beating out of your ribcage.

a deep sigh filled the room as she snapped her head in your direction, “no?”

jihyo walked towards you slowly, like a predator stalking her prey — her muscles flexing on full display with the black tank top she had on.

your breathing was sharp and uncontrolled, your fists clenched to keep yourself together.

you flinched when she raised her hand, landing it gently on your cheek and caressing your smooth skin with her thumb.

“sweet thing..” she mumbled, “but you don’t get to be a brat tonight.”

her hand suddenly left your cheek and found itself grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing a yelp out of you as she dragged you over to your shared bed.

jihyo slammed you face first into the soft comforter, holding your head down with her hand tangled in between your messy locks.

“you’ve been pretty bold lately.” you squirmed under her and tried to get up, but your efforts proved pointless when jihyo forced you back down as she straddled your lower back.

she practically ripped her jacket off of you as she grabbed your hands together and began wrapping the silk tie around your wrists.

“first you kiss some other bitch in front of me..” your squeals unaffecting her, “now you wanna talk back?” her skilled knot tying skills leaving your wrists locked with no escape, “seems like my sweet girl forgot who she really is.”

your skirt rode up your ass during your pathetic attempt at fighting back, accidentally revealing a prominent damp spot left in your panties.

“oh, you fucking like this.” jihyo scoffed, groping your thighs and slapping your ass a couple times.

small moans left you unwillingly, your horniness completely blinding you from what your original plan was.

“please..” you whined, slightly lifting your ass up for her in hopes that she would understand your signal.

“hm? now you’re begging for me?” she laughed darkly, “you’re nothin’ but a pretty fuckin’ slut.”

jihyo hooked her fingers through your panties and slid them down your legs, throwing them off to the side.

your legs were hanging off the bed in such a perfect position for jihyo to just take you right there.

she bent down and kissed your ass roughly, practically inhaling your flesh into her mouth.

you felt her sink her teeth into your lower thigh, making you wince at the sharp pain.

the same marks she left on your upper half were now tattooed across your lower — purple bruises appearing evenly on each one of your cheeks.

“fuck, just fuck me please. ‘need you so bad-”

you had no idea when she strapped the harness across her hips — too lost in the pleasure of her mouth on your skin, but when you looked over your shoulder, she stood there — pants off, strap on.

without any warning, she slid the full length of her silicone cock inside your poor pussy, not even allowing you any time to adjust.

she held your wrists together with one hand as she mercilessly pounded your tight hole.

the way you clenched around her strap left your pussy aching as you cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain.

“ngh- wait! ji- stop.. ‘hurts too much..” you stuttered, desperately grabbing at her forearm, digging your nails into her skin.

the squelching sounds that echoed against the walls drowned out the chorus of moans that you and jihyo made.

your wrists were going numb from how tight the silk was wrapped around them, her hold on you preventing you from moving out of her grip.

“yeah? you wanna act like a slut? i’ll fuckin’ treat you like one.” jihyo groaned out in between heavy breaths, “ ‘js take it like the bitch you are.” she was using this opportunity to take out her built up stress on you.

she flipped your skirt up against your back, letting the flowy fabric wave erratically every time she thrusted into you.

in your fit of mewls and fucked out moans, you felt yourself getting close — your walls clenching around her strap, making it difficult for her to fuck you at the same speed.

“my bitch. tell me who you fucking belong to.” she growled.

your brain was beyond the point of functioning, coherent words impossible to form.

“y-you- mmph only you, fuck- ‘m all yours.”

the sound of your skin clapping against each other threw both of you over the edge, your struggled screams partially muffled as you pressed your head further into the sheets.

“only i can fuckin’ have you like this.”

jihyo fucked you through your orgasm as your back arched acrobatically, coming around her strap and soaking her lap with your juices.

you shakily cried out frantic begs and pleads as your legs went limp against the bed.

your girlfriend bucked her hips slowly a few more times to let you catch your breath, her ringtone suddenly blaring on the nightstand.

jihyo tsked at being bothered at such an inconvenient time, pulling out of you and reaching for her phone.

you whined at the emptiness, simultaneously slipping into a slightly drunken coma.

“you g’na answer that?” you asked breathlessly, expecting her to put her job first per usual as she you watched her stare at her screen, contemplating.

she shook her head and threw her phone back onto the wooden nightstand, “no. i have better things you to do.”

[gretavanmoon]

The Proposition (S17)

Spinning Now: "Birthday Sex" by Jeremih (2009)

Pairing: Danny x female reader

Word Count: 14.3k

Description: Danny's always been that friend and roommate who you never thought of as anything more, until a birthday proposition presents itself in a way that neither of you can deny.

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Heavy Flirting, Praise, Dirty Talk, Touching, Wax Play

Smut: Kissing, Oral M!Receiving, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex (use protection!!)

+ This little diddly of an idea has been swimming around in my head for months now, and I've been so excited to get it going. And thanks to the reader who suggested it be a roomies trope ;) Hope ya like xoxo

Girl you know i i i...

HER POV

White or red?

There is no special occasion, simply just the bi-weekly dinner gathering of your friend group that has turned into an every-Thursday-night habit. Not that an occasion constitutes your wine choice, but still yet, the thought quickly crosses your mind. You are all meeting at your and Danny’s house tonight, along with the conjoined group of friends that has been steadily keeping each other fed for the past two and a half years, now. 

You’d been living with Danny for as long as you could remember, taking claim of his spare room sometime after everyone collectively moved out of your parents’ homes. The arrangement worked perfectly, the two of you already knowing how the other ticked after being friends for many years. Your jobs kept both of you busy, giving the other enough room that you didn’t feel like you were invading space in the small house. 

You pull your phone from your pocket as you peruse the wine selections, texting the group chat to check on tonight’s menu. 

You: What are we making tonight again? I already forgot

Jake: Salmon and quinoa and some other stuff

Jake: God your memory sucks

You: Emma, come get your man he’s being mean to me again

Emma: Quit picking on her babe 

You: Ok so I should get white wine, right? Pairs with fish?

Sam: Just get three fuckin bottles of wine, who cares

You: Ok I’m not coming if you guys are gonna continue to harass me

Sam: Too bad it’s your house and you have to be there anyway

You: I’ll lock myself in my room I don’t care

Danny: No Y/N, if they’re gonna be assholes they don’t have to come over. They can stay home and we can order pizza :)

Jake: Shut the fuck up Sam, I’m making the damned salmon and quinoa

Josh: What the fuck is quinoa

You shove your phone back in your pocket as you roll your eyes, the buzzing still consistent as you imagine they are still arguing with one another. 

It's funny how much Danny has been defending you lately. He’s still his normal self, your very good friend who sometimes lets his sweet side get the better of him, but in the past couple of months, something has switched. The more the brothers pick on you, the more he stands up for you. It used to be the opposite, with him joining in on your playful dog-piling any chance he could get. But ever since a couple of months ago… ever since his last birthday…

Almost three years ago now, you and Danny had found yourselves wrapped up in each other’s arms in his bed after a drunken night that started out like any other, dinner, socializing, cards, and way too much to drink. It was his birthday party, and after everyone else had cleared out, you stayed up to clean up the multitude of plastic cups and empty bottles that were scattered around the house. You were both fairly drunk, and you knew if you got the majority of the party cleaned up that night, you wouldn’t have to bother with it all while being inevitably hungover the next morning. 

“I’ll get out of your hair soon, Danny. I’m about to call an Uber to go stay with Emma.” You’d said as you dried the last of the dishes. He was sprawled out over on the loveseat, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and his mess of curls pulled up on top of his head. You’d always found him attractive, but you’d always been positive he was way out of your league. He’d never even given you a passing glance in that way. Except, that night, he looked exceptionally delicious… and your hazy, drunken mind undoubtedly had started to drift.

“What? Whyyyyy…? Don’t get an Uber, it’s too late,” he’d slurred as you walked over to sit on the ottoman his feet were rested on. 

“Becauseeee… it’s your birthday and I don’t want to interrupt your time with whatever guest you might have coming over.” You remember the words felt heavy in your mouth, like it was strange that you had never talked about Danny’s personal life out loud before. Or yours, for that matter. Even after all the years of being friends and roommates, the two of you had always taken things as they’d come… watching as strangers made their way in and out of your bedrooms without a second question.

“Guest?” His face contorted. “I ‘ont have a guest coming over, Y/N…”

You’d let your mouth gape open and your hand clutch your chest in a display of over-dramatics. “Really? No one to give you a happy ending on your birthday?! You must be falling off the wagon, Wagner.” 

What you do remember, though, was how hard he laughed at your half-assed attempt at a shitty joke. 

“I swear! Just me, tonight.” It was at that very second that you remember becoming enamored with the way he licked his lips, how he clicked his tongue just a little, and how his eyes had fluttered closed under his lashes. He’d reached his hand out for you to grab, so you did. 

“You gonna let me be lonely on my birthday, Y/N?” His warm fingers slowly worked their way to interlace with yours. This flirtatious tone wasn’t something you’d ever seen from him before, but for some reason, you found yourself tumbling for it. The deep rasp in his voice signaled something else, something so unexpected from him that you almost laughed it off as him kidding with you.

Your eyes had glanced around the room in confusion, and when you didn’t answer, you felt his foot kick into your leg, bringing your eyes back to look at him. His eyebrow was cocked in the air, as if he was waiting for an answer. 

“You’re drunk, Danny… you don’t…” you’d anxiously answered, nodding your head side to side in disbelief. 

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t want me to… stay…” for some reason, he was making you nervous, and you were having trouble answering him. There was no way he wanted you to stay, of all people. No way in hell.

He’d laughed, sitting up on the couch and leaning over to take you in his arms in a giant bear hug. His face was buried into your shoulder, pulling you close in the warmest embrace you’d had in a while. It was strange feeling him this closely, and you shivered a little at his touch. You’d hugged him back, and then felt his lips drift close to your ear. 

“I actually do… want you to stay here with me. In my room, in my bed, until tomorrow morning…” his voice crackled in your ear, the faint scent of spicy tequila still on his breath. It’d sent chills all over your body, and you had to admit, it was a strangely welcome feeling. Danny had never been this close to you, like this, ever before. His words had shocked your system, though, temporarily deeming you unable to respond. 

So when he finally pulled back from the hug and confidently met your eyes again, you let yourself go with it. You were still fairly intoxicated, but this drop dead gorgeous friend of yours who had hardly ever given you the time of day was now throwing himself into your lap. Why turn him down? It was his birthday, after all. 

“I never knew you were into me, Danny,” you’d cooed, watching as his fingers drifted across the back of your hand. 

He sat back and dropped his head against the cushion again, cracking his fingers above his head. “I‘ve always been into you, Y/N. You’re gorgeous and fun, make me laugh… always been so good to me.”

You’d never admitted it, but of course you had pictured yourself with him a time or two. How could you not? Talented, handsome, kind and genuine…always looking for fun and always including you in his outlandish plans. But this…him laying it out on the line like this? It had your body beginning to physically yearn for him, completely out of nowhere. 

“Stop playing, no you haven’t…” you’d argued, still in disbelief. 

He held his hands up in surrender, cocking a sideways smile. “I swear. I just… never had the guts to say anything…”

You contemplated it all for a second, giving him a questioning look that begged for his reassurance. 

“Why not, ya know? Not like we’re strangers…” you’d muttered through a sharp inhale.

You stood from the ottoman and slowly began stepping one foot in front of the other toward him, standing just between his legs. Your heart rate spiked as you answered him, your face flushing with the reality of what you were about to do.  “Just a birthday hookup, huh? Just this one time?”

You let your hand brush against his thigh, your fingers lightly tickling until they reached his hip. It felt as though your hands were disconnected from your body, making their own decision to reach out and touch him as he sat reclined in front of you. Gently, his hands pulled around your waist, his thumbs digging into the flesh, strong and inviting. 

“Just this one time…and that’s it.”

That night, the two of you stayed up until the winter sun was striking through the windows onto Danny’s white down comforter, and only then did the two of you finally drift off to a short but sweet slumber, until the alarm on his phone woke you both in a panic. 

You’d fallen asleep upside-down on the bed, both of your heads at the foot of his king-size. His arm was draped across the small of your back, and his hair was still a messy bundle of curls at the back of his head. 

“Fuck,” he’d muttered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, it’s your alarm…”

Suddenly, now, in the light of day and the brightness of the room, the both of you became very conscious of your unclothed selves. You’d felt your cheeks blush at the sight of him, skin still dewy with the after-effects of sweat and sex. You didn’t miss his passing glance of you, too, still halfway wrapped up in his sheets as he maneuvered to the top of the bed to check the time.

“‘S only seven. Shit, I’ve got a headache…” he said, running a hand over his face. 

“Me too,” you mumbled as he laid back down beside you. You pulled the covers up a bit more over your body, feeling extremely exposed in the bright sunlight. He propped himself up on his elbows, giving you a sweet and questioning look. “So, what are we supposed to do now?” you’d asked. “Cuddle?”

His laugh bounced off the walls, the glitter in his eye sending a wave of nerves through your body. 

“We cuddled plenty last night, Y/N. We didn’t end up falling asleep until like, six,” he said, his voice groggy with sleep, or lack thereof. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. “I’m sorry for keeping you up all night, I know you have things to do all day–” he cut you off with a kiss, his neck craning down to meet your lips with the sweetest surprise touch. 

After a few fleeting seconds he pulled away, meeting your eyes as he spoke again. “Don’t you dare apologize to me, Y/N. I asked you to stay in here. Asked you to keep me company on my birthday.” His hand reached up to pull the hair away from your cheek, bringing instant flashbacks of his hands on your face and shoulders last night as he pinned you down, fucking you into his mattress. “I was just completely unaware that both of us would last for that many hours…” he laughed, rolling away to cover his face. 

“God, Danny, don’t embarrass me!” you laughed along with him. 

“What is there to be embarrassed about?! Shit, I think we were great together,” he went on, holding his hand out for you to low-five.

You pursed your lips together, letting your hand clap onto his. “We were, weren’t we? Never would have thought.”

“Shit, I thought about it all the time…” he admitted. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you played, smacking him across the chest. 

“I don’t know, you’re just a girl in my friend group, ya know? My roommate that helps me with rent…didn’t want to freak you out or something and make you hate me,” he explained.

You propped up on your elbow, shaking your head at him. “So we could have been doing this all along?”

“Oh, so you enjoyed yourself, then?” he countered, rolling you to lie on your back as he pulled himself over you again. 

As you gazed up at him above you, small curly strands falling around his face and onto yours, you felt your face get hot, the same need you felt in your stomach for him last night coming back full force. A need you never thought you would have for him. A need that came back to you over and over again the night before, and left you both too exhausted to even bother to see the morning.

“Danny, we fucked like five times, of course I enjoyed myself,” you tried to keep the confidence heavy in your voice. 

His nose scrunched up as he giggled, light and airy into the room. He laced his fingers with yours, lifting your hands together into the air and pulling them back down between you again. This time, you took the initiative and kissed him again, straining to keep things from moving as quickly as they had moved once you finally climbed into his lap on the couch last night.

When you finally separated, both of you refraining from letting it go any further, he disconnected your hands and clenched his jaw. “What do we do now?”

You didn’t want a relationship. And neither did he. That much was very known amongst your friend group, the both of you way too busy with your own lives to devote your time to another. You stood strong in that decision, and you knew for a fact that he would, too. So your mind began wandering, thinking of ways to end this entanglement you’d found yourselves in. 

“What if we just… did this sometimes?” you proposed. 

His brow furrowed. “I’m listening…”

“Our birthdays. Yours in December, and mine in June… it’s perfect. If the both of us are single on our birthday each year, we make a plan to not leave the other lonely…” The idea seemed preposterous, but at the same time, it didn't. A sure-fire way to make each of your birthdays interesting each year, and after the night you’d shared last night, you’re positive he wouldn’t turn the idea down.

His eyes dashed around the room as he considered it, taking a deep breath as he sat up in the bed. You caught a glance of his naked lower half, and your eyes rolled back on their own accord as you pictured his hips pounding into yours last night in the darkness of his bedroom. You sat up too, challenging his gaze. 

He held his hand out again, this time for you to shake. 

“Deal.”

—-

After deciding on the three bottles of wine, two white and a red, your mind begins wandering off by itself, causing you to hardly pay attention to the fact that you are singing the words to the song playing in your headphones out loud. You bite your lips, glancing around to see if anyone had seen you, or worse, heard your horribly flat singing voice. Luckily the aisle is clear, so you make a mad dash for the checkout line, ready to get out and head back home for dinner. 

The drive is short, and when you finally arrive in the driveway, you find that you’re the last one to get there. 

“Hello, hello,” you sing as you let yourself inside, kicking off your flip flops at the door. You set the bag of wine bottles on his island where Jake and Sam are busy preparing the meal. 

“Thank god, the booze is here!” you hear Josh sing through the house as he makes his way over to stand beside you, opening the drawer of the island to search for Danny’s wine opener. You set all three bottles in line on the countertop in a nice straight line. “Shiraz, Y/N? That’s surely a bold choice…” Josh says, rolling his eyes. 

“The label looked pretty, I don’t know!” you counter, shoving your shoulder into his. “It already smells really good, guys…” you say as you leave Josh to the wine, leaning over Jake’s shoulder as he stirs a pot at the stove. Suddenly Danny is leaning over his other side, sticking his finger in whatever sauce Jake is stirring.

“Aht, aht!” Jake swats his hand away just as Danny sticks his finger into the saucepan. “It’s not perfect yet…”

“Tastes good as hell to me,” Danny says, locking eyes with you as he pops his lips over his finger. You feel your insides churn.

“So Y/N, your birthday is next week, you guys planning your weird little bi-yearly birthday hookup still?” Josh nonchalantly asks as he yanks the cork from the bottle of red. Fortunately, it only took nearly two years for your friends to catch on to your and Danny’s little birthday agreement, when Jake inadvertently tried to surprise Danny with filling up his bathroom with balloons, only to find you bent over the bathroom sink. 

“Christ, Josh, you have to put it like that?” Danny intervened. “Geez…”

“What?! That’s what it is, right?” Josh says as he pulls glasses down from the cabinet. You feel your face blush, even though it’s an open topic, at this point. 

Danny pulls himself up to sit on the corner of his countertop. “No, we simply enjoy the other’s company on our birthdays because both of us suck at the dating playing field and always decide to indulge in one another’s availability, right Y/N?”

“That’s correct,” you confidently agree as you listen to the others groan.

Josh throws his head back and laughs loudly. 

“What?” Danny yelps.

“You don’t think it’s funny that neither of you have ever had a significant other on your birthdays for the past what, three years now?” Josh says, eliciting silent looks of agreement from his brothers.

“Mmm, no, I don’t think it’s funny. We both suck at dating, you heard him. This is just…our way of making sure we aren’t alone twice a year.” The attempt at explaining yourselves is transparent, at this point. You know you’re lying to yourselves. It's obvious. Each and every time you pull yourself from Danny’s bed, or he from yours, you feel your bones begging you to stay. You like him, you’ll admit it, but only to yourself. 

Twice a year isn’t enough, it was never enough. And you know for a fact that it will never be enough. On his birthday last year, you could have sworn you heard him say something close to the ‘L’ word as he came for the third time that night, his voice low and whining as you clenched around him, bringing him to his completely fucked-out state of mind. Each hookup had gotten hotter, heavier, and more serious. Each time was better than the last, and this last one was so intense, that you ended up staying in his room a second night, completely breaking your own rules. 

As you slipped out of his bedroom that second morning, his honey brown eyes were begging you to stay, his lips touching his fingertips and blowing it your way as you quietly shut his bedroom door behind you. 

That morning broke you. That morning your heart told you what it wanted. 

That morning was the last time you denied it to yourself– you were absolutely head over heels for him. The yearning you’d felt had begun overtaking your whole self. And it wasn’t just yearning, it was something else. Something more powerful, something you couldn’t grasp the notion of, because you’d never felt it before. It’s now become something that makes your days drag by with the thought of him, not only sexually but personally, too. You feel wrapped up in his life, intertwined with his decisions, and some days you barely even have the time to give each other more than a goodmorning and goodnight. Sure, you still meet up every week with your group for dinner, but the subtle touches and the intense glances that are being shared almost on the daily now have become too much. You want to tell him. You need to tell him.

“Hm. Okay, so… what’s the plan this year?” Josh asks, obviously wanting to pry into your business, just like always. 

“Josh, it’s none of your fucking business. Can you leave them alone for a second?” Sam says as he empties the box of rice into the insta-pot. 

“No, it’s fine. I have big plans…” Danny bites his cheeks in as he denies himself a cheeky smile, swinging his bare feet as he sits on the counter. His eyes are boring into yours, and you swear just a simple word from him would have you on your knees for him, anymore. 

“Big plans, huh?” you try to avoid his stare. 

“Mmmmhm…” he says, grinning to himself. “Might have you running away and never coming back, though.”

You nearly choke on the sip of wine swirling in your mouth. Throughout the years, you will admit, your hookups had gotten more and more mischievous as time went on, both of you pushing each other’s boundaries just a little more each time. Nothing had ever gotten too crazy, but after his birthday last year, it was an unwritten understanding that not much was off the table, at all. 

Sam plugs his ears with his fingers. “La la la I don’t wanna hear details!”

Jake pulls his wooden spoon from the sauce, turning to face all of you. “I do, I wanna hear it. Keep going. What’s the plan?”

“I’m not fuckin’ tellin’ you guys, it’ll ruin the surprise,” Danny argues as Josh hands him a glass of wine. 

“Okay well you can tell me after her birthday then, right?” Jake pushes. 

Emma steps in front of him, taking the now dripping spoon from his hand and running her tongue up the side to catch it from going into the floor. “Yeah Danny, maybe you should give him the rundown, maybe it’ll get his wheels turning,” she challenges, bouncing her eyebrows to Jake as she places the spoon back into the sauce. You laugh at her, feeling no embarrassment in the least. 

“Get my wheels turning?! What is that supposed to mean?!” Jake yells, grabbing her waist from behind and spinning her around the kitchen. 

You lock eyes with Danny again as he gives you a suspicious look of excitement, like he’s trying his hardest to keep his idea locked inside. 

—---

After a rambunctious and wine-drunk dinner, everyone begins to file out of the house, stumbling away to either walk down the street to their respective homes, or catching a ride out with other friends to the nearest bar. You’re left behind again, like always, helping Danny with dishes and pouring out the remaining bits of wine left behind in the glasses. 

“So, next week. The big 2-5. You still down for hanging out?” he asks as he dries the last dish, as if you would ever say no. 

“Actually, I think I’m going to spend this year alone, ya know? Keep it low key, order some take-out and curl up on the couch,” you say with a cheeky tone.

His jaw hangs slack as he nearly drops the towel in his hand. “Really?”

You scoff. “No, Danny. Are you serious? We shook on it, and I don’t break my promises,” you laugh. You slowly walk toward him, the line between friend and more than a friend getting blurrier as time goes on. You want to put your hands on his bare chest, press yourself against his warm body, crane your neck up to meet for a sweet kiss, but you don’t. Because you can’t. Because he isn’t yours. 

So instead you just simply stand before him, leaning a hand onto the countertop. 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief. “Shew, good. I was about to be pissed at you, Y/N,” he breathes as he playfully shoves your shoulder. “Standing me up on your birthday…”

You smile as you realize your feet are carrying you closer to him on their own. You try to stop them, try to tell them no, but you can’t. Now you’re standing in front of him, your chests almost touching as you let your finger trail up his arm to his neck. “I’d never stand you up, Danny. Not in a million years,” you murmur. 

You feel his body stiffen as you let your singular fingertip connect with his skin, your touch a featherlight drift. You glance down at his hand balanced on the cold marble countertop, his fingers tightening and loosening under the weight of his own want to touch you back. You hear him breathe in, fast and choppy as you begin to manipulate the line between friends and more, truly unable to keep it black and white no matter how much you try. Finally you let your eyes look into his, dark and brooding and looking a lot like they do after a few rounds of self-indulgence with you.

“Good,” he growls, “because I have a hell of a night planned for us.”

Us.

“Is that right?” you question, still trailing your fingertip across his arm and neck. You can see the chill bumps forming on his skin now, and you can tell he is physically restraining himself from succumbing to his mental constraints. You have to admit, you’re finding it very satisfying, watching his mind tell his body no. The muscles in his arms flex and tighten as you step closer, slowly tiptoeing to bring your faces close, your lips barely ghosting his. 

“That’s very right,” he whispers, opening his mouth slightly as if he’s going to kiss you, but instead pulling back a little. The proximity is enough to make you feel soaked already, your entire body buzzing with fire for him. 

“When do you want me ready?” you breathe, letting your lips graze across his, your finger now hooked behind his bicep. His hands are still gripping as he balances between the island and the countertop as he leans down to you, restraining himself still yet. 

He’s inhaling and blowing air quickly through his nose, and you know for a fact that he’s holding himself back with everything in him. His jaw clenches hard as his eyes stay trained on your lips. “Want you right now, if I’m being honest…” His words make the butterflies in your stomach explode their wings. 

You can taste the wine still heavy on his breath. “But it’s not my birthday, Danny…” you retort.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m getting to a point where I don’t care.”

You swallow it down. Maybe your thoughts are mutual… Your heart is absolutely racing, like it would do when you found out your elementary school crush liked you back. You don’t even know what to say, at this point, you want him so badly…your vision blurring with the mental snaps of the two of you wrapped up in one another again. 

“You should care, we have an agreement,” you admit through your teeth, as badly as it hurts to say it. “We set our rules.”

He scoffs hard. “I don’t remember signing my name on any dotted line, Y/N,” he spurts back, making you feel that drop in your stomach again. He wants to break the rules, too.

You bite your lips in, deciding to cut your losses. You step back from him, disconnecting your finger from behind his arm, and stepping away. The flushed look on his pink cheeks is enough to make you want to run back into his arms, and the look on his face makes it seem as though he just lost the one thing in his life he never planned on having, anyway. 

“I asked you a question, Danny. When do you want me ready?” you say strongly. 

He closes his eyes and recenters, swallowing down his thoughts. “Uh, uhm. F-Friday. Around 8.” He finally cleans up his expression and meets you with a smile again. “Be ready to celebrate.”

—--

DANNY POV

Friday rolls around more quickly than you thought it would. The group had decided to rain-check family dinner this week, planning on celebrating Y/N’s birthday the following weekend when everyone would be in town at the same time. 

Your palms had been sweaty all day just at the thought of what tonight would hold, and you realize that you hadn’t been this anxious for a night together with Y/N, yet. The nerves are positively eating you alive, but you shove them down, knowing that you shouldn’t be having them in the first place. She doesn’t feel for you the same way you feel for her, and she likely never will. 

It’s heartbreaking and wasteful, really, knowing that your sexual chemistry with her is only put to good use twice a fucking year when it should be being shared with her whenever you wanted to show her how much you really care, but. Here you find yourself. 

She’s taking up all the extra space in your mind these days. You feel like you’re floating on air each and every time the vision of her face pops into your mind, you feel like you can feel the blood in your veins rising to a hotter temperature than you’ve ever experienced, and you find yourself wanting to give her all the things she’s ever wanted, and more. Your friend, one of your best friends, you’d say, unknowingly spinning herself into your life in a way that you can’t even tell her about.

That last birthday you shared together, your twenty-fifth, wasn’t the same as the rest before it. Sure, fucking her was high on your list of excellent sexual experiences thus far, but that last time, shit. Had your head spinning for days after. Never had a woman gotten you more fucked up than she did after that night. Two nights, really. That was when you knew it was real. When you wanted to ask her to stay, don’t go… be with me here and don’t ever leave… But your pride got the best of you. So you let her walk out, taking every single last bit of hope you had to make her yours with her as she walked out your bedroom door. 

Could she not see it? Did she not notice how horribly you want her, all the time? Surely she doesn’t think you’re just being nice when you do little things for her… offer to change the oil in her car, take her lunch to work, send her every single funny meme and video you have ever come across simply because you know they’ll make her laugh…

Apparently not. But you don’t want to push too hard, too soon, either. If it’s meant to happen, it will. Hell, you hadn’t even told Sam about these feelings you’d been having. No one knows. This is a secret you’d kept bottled up for months now. 

You come back inside after a quick trip to the grocery store and gently place the items from your arms onto the island, making sure the champagne bottle doesn’t tip over and break. You stick the bottle into the fridge and remove everything else from the plastic bags before rushing into your bedroom to make sure it’s presentable. 

While she was at work, you’d spent the majority of the day cleaning up the general guy-ness of your bedroom, putting on a fresh set of sheets and giving the bathroom a good wipe-down. You’d never cared this much, for what she thinks of your surroundings…

…But you want tonight to be special. You want this birthday to be her favorite one, yet. And you’re determined to do so. You’d placed various candles around the surfaces of your bedroom, trying to make it romantic, but not so much that it will make her think you’re trying too hard.

When you decide that your room is as neat as it’s going to get, you go back into the kitchen and tear into the small cardboard box that’s been hiding away on top of your refrigerator for almost a month now. You’d seen an ad for it while scrolling instagram or something, and you knew right then that you had to get it. Your birthdays spent with her were becoming more and more experimental, and the idea for this year had fallen right into your lap. 

You rip the packing tape off the box, letting it fall to the wayside as you open the flaps, finding the perfectly wrapped 2 and 5 candles in all their glittering glory. Shiny, crimson red wax with metallic gold trimming, long wicks and a thickness that regular store-bought candles just don’t have. You smirk as you pull them from the packaging and lay them in front of her small cake- chocolate with white buttercream icing. Her favorite. A glance at the clock on the stove lets you know you have an hour until she gets home, so you scurry off to the shower to get a last-minute scrub before you inevitably hear her coming through the door. 

—--

Your stomach nearly falls to the floor when you hear the front door unlatch, and you find her a  tired and flustered mess after her long shift. You busy yourself on your laptop, trying your best to seem more involved with what you’re doing than watching her unload her things from her arms onto the table.

“Hey birthday girl,” you mutter without looking back at her. “How was your day?”

You feel her lean all her body weight across the back of the couch beside you. “Long,” she huffs, “but not bad.”

You find the confidence to turn your head to her, finding her resting her head into her palm as she eyes you. You have to reel it all back in as you feel her so closely in your presence again. 

“Good,” you reply, keeping it short. “Not too tired to skip our date?”

She hums a sweet laugh. “No. Most definitely not.”

“Are we…leaving the house? I’m trying to decide what to wear…” she asks shyly.

You have to remind yourself that she’s your friend, there’s nothing to be scared of, you do this all the time…

“No, actually. We’re staying home,” you reply.

Home. Your home, with her. 

“Eight o’clock?” she reiterates.

“Yep, on the dot,” you tease as she stands to make her way to her end of the house.

She sways down the hallway, tossing her jacket over her shoulder as she disappears into the shadows. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

—---

A few hours later, you’re leaned on the island swirling a lowball glass of tequila, waiting for her to emerge from her bedroom. You’d been standing patiently, fashionably early for your birthday date in the kitchen as you listened to the faint sounds of her music playing as she got ready. 

Your nerves are already shot, the tequila doing little to assist in qualming the nervous anxiety swirling through you. So when you finally hear her bedroom door open and her steps coming down the hall, you have to tilt the rest back in hopes that it will hit you a little more quickly. 

She’s dressed cute, but comfortable, and you can tell she did her hair that special way that you’d complimented a few weeks ago. She smells like sweet sugary flowers mixed with the woodsy smell of rain, and just her scent as she approached you was already driving you insane. 

You meet her in the middle of the kitchen, grabbing her hand to twirl her around into your embrace. “Happy birthday, gorgeous,” you mutter, your face falling into her hair for a second. 

Her arms lift around your neck, squeezing just a little as she places the sweetest kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, Danny.” You allow yourself to hold her for just a second, your right hand gripping the wrist of your left at the back of her waist. 

“You hungry?” You ask as you pull away from her. 

“Yeah, whatcha making?” she replies, taking a seat at the island. 

You grab the box of the frozen pizza you’d previously thrown in the oven, displaying it for her. 

“Oh my god, my favorite!” she squeals. “I’m so excited.”

You laugh as you fold the box up, cramming it into the trash can. “Knew you would be. It’s not a five-star birthday meal, but. Let’s be honest. I can’t cook for shit, and you love this pizza more than you love a lot of things…”

“No, you’re so right. I’ve actually been craving it for a while,” she giggles. 

“Wait, I also gotttttt….” You make your way to the fridge, pulling out the bottle of champagne. 

“Shit, pizza and champagne? You know exactly how to make a girl happy, Daniel.” She blushes a little, and you know you’re on the right track for the night. 

“You gotta open it, though. It’s bad luck if someone else opens the champagne bottle on your birthday,” you lie, scooting the bottle to her across the countertop. 

“You’re crazy. Give it,” she rolls her eyes as she takes the bottle, twisting the key seven times and removing the wire casing. She stands from her chair, gripping the bottle in both hands as she searches for somewhere to aim. 

“At the wall! Just not toward a window!” you warn, closing one eye as she begins to push on the cork. Finally it pops off, flying toward the wall as the bubbly pours from the neck of the bottle. “Get it, Y/N, get it!” 

She cups her lips over the overflowing bottle, slurping up as much as she can before it flows into the floor. The two of you laugh as you bring two glasses over, letting her pour them up. Just then the timer for the pizza goes off, and the sound of the beeps reminds you that time is ticking, making your nerves rush for the main event. 

——-

After stuffing yourselves with pizza and downing the bottle of champagne, the two of you are piled up on the couch sharing a six pack of some crazy peach flavored beer she’d bought last week. 

You’re seated on the couch as she reclines across it, her legs in your lap. You’d talked a lot tonight, like more than you maybe ever have before. Sure, you’d been friends for many years now, but majority of the time, you’re surrounded by the other guys always intervening on your conversations, or interrupting your discussions. 

But after three hours of deep exchange, you swear you could talk to her until the end of time, and never get tired of it. She looks natural with her bare, sunkissed legs draped across your lap, and your hand that’s mindlessly drifting over her thigh and knee looks like it belongs there. 

Her drunken laughter bounces off the walls and right into your chest, making your entire self beam with happiness and adoration for her. The way she takes up space in the home you share gives you an inexplicable feeling. Roommates doesn’t even begin to describe what you want to title your living situation with her.

Your faces are blotched red and tears are falling from your eyes as the two of you come down from a laughing fit, and a sweet recovery silence falls over the both of you. Her eyes are bloodshot from the alcohol, and her face is flushed from the belly laughs. 

“You’re really pretty, Danny,” she flits, making you whip your head her way. 

“What?” you ask, embarrassed. 

“You’re pretty. Well, you’re handsome, of course, but. You’re also pretty,” she explains, her words making you feel shy. 

“Oh, thank you, Y/N. Don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before…” you respond. Your hand grips into her thigh a little bit as your head falls back onto the couch cushion. You meet her eyes, the both of you staring at each other while everything else in the room disappears. You hold the gaze for a long while, each passing second making your breathing pick up. Fuck, she makes you nervous. 

Finally, she stands, pushing her hair back behind her ear as she reaches for you to take her hand. “Take me to bed, Danny…” she whispers. 

Okay. 

You slowly stand, keeping her hand in yours as she pulls you into the center of the room. Like magnets, your bodies are pulled into one another, your hands finding both of hers as you turn to walk her backwards down the hall to your room. You move in slow motion as the two of you glide across the wooden floors, taking your sweet, special time. 

You take her chin between your fingers, and push her hair back again before leaning down to press your lips to hers. It’s gentle and sweet and slow, her lips parting only just a little bit as you guide her down the long hallway. You allow yourself the indulgence of her lips, the feeling of her tongue gently swiping across yours, the flavor of everything that she is. It’s all perfect, she’s perfect. 

Her hands finally find your face and hair, entangling themselves like they always do, pulling you further into her. For this only being the sixth time you’ve done this, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to you. It doesn’t make any sense that you waste your time thinking about it, instead of giving her the loving that she deserves. 

But you plan on showing her tonight. You may not be able to tell her, but damned if you can’t try your best to show her. 

“Wait, I almost forgot,” you pause as you approach your bedroom door. “I’ll be right back. Stay here,” you command, squeezing her shoulders. “No peeking,” you whisper as you watch her eyelids close.  

You’d already strategically placed her cake on the table in your room, with two forks and no plates. But the last finishing touch is the sporadically placed candles. You grab your lighter from your nightstand and light them one by one, watching as the flickering flames cast a warm glow across your walls. Perfect. Lastly, you place the 2 and 5 candles in the center of the cake, but wait to light them. 

You slip back out into the hall, finding her still standing with her eyes closed. You grab her hands and pull her to walk toward you. “Keep them closed.”

Her smile lights up your entire world. “What are we doing, Danny? I’m scared…” 

“Don’t be scared, babe. S’just me…”

You pull her inside, instructing her to sit down on the bed as you grab the cake and lighter. You balance it in one hand and flick the lighter with the other, lighting the wicks of both the number candles. 

“Open your eyes.”

Her eyes flick open, finding the room completely illuminated with orange glow. “Ah, Danny…” she gasps, glancing around the room, and finally to the cake in your hands in front of her. 

“Hm hm hmm hm hmmm hmm…” you hum the Happy Birthday song, your voice a bit shaky and jittery with nerves. “Don’t forget to make a wish,” you say, watching as her eyes flick to yours, then back to the cake in your hands. She closes her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, and blowing out the flames of her 25.

“You wanna know what I wished for?” she asks. 

You shake your head. “No. But I hope it comes true.”

You set the cake down on your nightstand and you sit back down beside her on your bed. You bring her in close again, letting your forehead balance on hers before you make contact. You swear to it, you could get lost in kissing her more easily than you could get lost in a foreign country. You’d kissed her a hundred times before, but lately…now…

Things move slowly, things move sweetly…normally the two of you waste no time in ripping one another’s clothes off, biting and scratching and devouring each other like you’re starved, but tonight feels like it deserves more attention than that. It deserves to be appreciated. 

Your hands drift to the bottom hem of her cream-colored eyelet lace dress, your hand drifting up her thigh. You pull the dress as you go, revealing her thong hugging her hip. Your hand slips below the waistband, and you run your fingers along it and down the front pantyline, the backs of your knuckles skimming across her heat. She whines a little at the contact, and you feel your vision growing blurry. 

You continue kissing her while slowly letting your hands explore her in a way you’ve never let them before, taking special care to pay attention to your every move. The kiss becomes more longing when you let a digit slip into her folds, feeling her wetness coating your finger for the first time in six months. Her hands grip onto your shoulders, pulling your upper body into her. You push her back to lay on the bed, never once disconnecting your mouths. 

Her left knee is bent into the air while the other one lies flat, so you push it to the side a little as your hand still hides in her panties. Her hand is yanking at the back of your hair as your featherlight touch drifts up and down, finally landing on her sweet spot. She cries quietly into your mouth when you land on it just right, using your middle finger to swirl her wetness across it. 

She sits up a little, reaching to your back to pull your cotton t-shirt over your head. You disconnect for just a second to help her, and toss it to the floor. “Mmm there you are,” she mumbles, her hands rushing across the skin of your chest and arms while you go back to work. 

You feel her legs spread, giving you the ok to move further. You let your two middle fingers dip inside of her to the hilt, her muscles already tight and twisting around you. “Fuck baby, you’re tight…” you pull away long enough to say. With your words she tightens around you on purpose, clenching herself as you begin pumping your hand in and out of her. You start to wonder if you’re the only one she’s slept with since December. Not that it’s any of your business, but, lately you’d decided that your feelings for her had gathered so heavily in your chest that that six month gap would be worth it, if it meant she could be all yours.

You watch her face in awe, suddenly feeling no ounce of shyness in the least in watching her come undone around your hand. Her bottom lip bites into her mouth as her eyelids flutter open and shut, and the sounds that escape from her lips make you realize how beyond ready for her you are. 

You continue pumping your fingers in and out of her, feeling her drip down onto the bed sheets below you. “You wanna let go like this for me, baby?” you ask, having trouble keeping your breaths even. 

“No. Yes, but no…” she concedes. “Wanna… want you…”

You smirk. “Go ahead, Y/N, we’ve got all night. You know how we are...” You take the opportunity to twist your fingers inside of her, turning your arm so that your palm is now pressed against her heat instead of perpendicular with it. You lean down and lick a stripe up the side of her neck as you leave your fingers buried deep, stopping the pumping altogether and instead wiggling the tips of your fingers against the spot deep inside her. 

“Fuck Danny,” she breathes. “Keep it there keep it there…” Her eyes squeeze shut as you watch her chase her high, her hand squeezing at your pec and gripping onto it with everything she has. 

It’s impressive really, how much you’d learned her body after just being with her a handful of times over the course of three years, learning her ins and outs and what drives her crazy for you, and stowing them away at the back of your mind until the next birthday. 

You make quick and heady work of brushing your fingers across that spot, pressing your palm against her clit and adding just the right amount of circular pressure in both places. Her legs fall open even further and her head tilts back, all of her muscles tightening as she cries out, giving you her first orgasm of the night. And you had barely even removed any clothing yet. 

When she’s done, you gather up her wetness and pull it onto her stomach under her dress, letting your middle finger massage it onto her skin. “Fuck…” she breathes out, wiping the hair from her face. “That didn’t take me long,” she laughs.

“No, it didn’t,” you agree, sitting up on the bed. “Must be excited to see me.” 

She sits up and stands from the bed, pulling her flowy cream dress up over her hips and hiking one knee after the other across either side of you. You lean back away from her straddle, resting your arms back on the bed as you get a good look at her, already glowy. She reaches up and clasps her hands behind your neck. “Very excited to see you,” she admits shyly. 

“Hm, really? You see me every day,” you poke, trying to feel out her level. 

“Yeah but we can’t do this on random Tuesday afternoons, or in front of our friends, now, can we?” she presses, letting her hips fall onto your lap. You reach one finger to her chest and trail it up to under her chin, pulling her into you. Your heart begins pounding as you fall into a ravenous kiss again, this time bringing more heat than you even began to touch on a few minutes ago. Your hands fall to her waist, pulling her down onto you as she moves her knees to sit closer, pressing your chests together. Your hands travel across her thighs and to her waist, then finally around to grip her ass. 

Though your tongue is burying itself deeply into her mouth, you’re metaphorically biting it. You want to tell her that yes, you do want to move things in another direction with her, you do want to hold her hand in front of your friends, you do want them to know how crazy you actually are for her. So in an act of boldness, you try. 

“Maybe not in this regard, but they probably wouldn’t mind a little PDA…” 

She giggles as she wraps her hands in your hair. “PDA? Like flirting with each other? In front of them?”

“Yeah, just like that. They already know we sleep together sometimes, they have to know we, ya know… are allowed to let it flow into days that aren’t our birthdays…” you swallow the words down, feeling so anxious that she may take them the wrong way, or hate them altogether. 

“You think they’d make fun of us?” she asks, her mouth kissing behind your ear.

“Oh yeah, they would. But, I’d be there to slap the fuck out of them if they embarrass you,” you respond, squeezing your hands into her hips. 

Her tongue is tickling the sensitive skin around your ear as she lays tiny pecks near your hairline. “I think I’d be okay with a little flirting… sometimes it almost happens naturally, anyway,” she says, making your heart rate soar again. 

“Really?”

She nods, coming up to face you now, her cheeks tinted the palest pink. “Mmhm, sometimes I have to stop myself from touching you in front of them. You know, just innocently.”

You swallow hard, knowing the exact feeling all too well. When you’re surrounded by your friends making dinner or whatever it may be, you’ve found yourself having to stop your hand from grazing across her lower back as you walk by, from leaning down to kiss her cheek, anything, all the time. She’s right, it does feel natural to want to do that. 

“I do, too, actually,” you admit. “You… It feels normal to me. Just a reflex.” You buck your hips up into her as you speak, your body begging you for some contact. 

The whimper that leaves her chest ignites that deep carnal instinct inside you, wanting, needing to connect yourself with her again. You gather the soft fabric of her dress in your hands, signaling to her that you want to pull it off. She lifts her arms above her head, allowing you easy access to tear it all the way off of her. As her hair cascades back down over her shoulders you realize that her dress didn’t require a bra. So, you’re left staring at her left only in her thong, her breasts sitting more perfectly than you remember them. “You’re so gorgeous, Y/N, I swear…” you grit, raking over her body with your eyes. 

She hops off of your lap, motioning with one finger for you to stand. When you follow her order, she falls to her knees, working her fingers to unbutton your jeans. “Fuck, wait,” you say. Her eyes glance up at you through her eyelashes. “Pull your hair back.”

She does as you say, pulling her hair into a ponytail at her neck while you undo your jeans with one swift movement. She gets done with her hair quickly, swatting your hand away and pulling your zipper down. “Take them all the way off, Danny,” she demands, and the backs of your knees hit the mattress as you lean over, kicking them and your underwear off one leg at a time. You kick them to the side as she walks on her knees closer to you, taking your already over-hard dick in her right hand, licking her lips just a little before she swirls her tongue around the tip. Everything had just happened really fast, her urgency making your blood pump. Her tongue flattened out against you, and she pressed you all the way to the back of her throat, almost making your knees buckle under you. 

She grabs your hand, pulling it toward the back of her head. You take the signal and wrap your hand around her hair just as her lips meet your base, and you hold her there, feeling the saliva already beginning to pool in her mouth. “God damnit, baby, fuck you’re so good at this. Don’t even need my help…” You loosen your grip and allow her to drag her lips across your shaft, adding hard suction as she slowly ascends off. 

“Want your help, though. Do it…” she motions, so you do. You use her ponytail to guide her up and down you, forcefully pushing and pulling on her head just like she likes it. The first time you did this, you were a bit thrown off, as you’ve always just let whoever was pleasing you do whatever they felt. But she likes it when you tell her when and where you want her to be. 

The candles are physically heating up the air in the room, providing a heat that feels like a heavy blanket on your skin. Your mind flashes with remembering the special candles, and you feel a spark of excited electricity shoot through your body. The baby hairs around her face are beginning to stick to her forehead as her eyes glance up to look at you, doelike and pleading. 

She hums onto your dick as you squeeze her cheeks together, taking a hard hold on her jawline as your opposite hand guides her motions. Your head falls back as you feel the knot tightening in your stomach, but you can’t let go just yet. Her tongue swirls around your tip and the sounds that her mouth is making sound downright ruthless, spurring on your albeit degraded current situation. 

She moans onto you as her lips pull on and off, all by the force of your hand. You pull her hair particularly roughly, watching as the string of saliva connects her mouth to you, still. You take the second to sit down on the bed, physically unable to stand for another second without losing all will to hold yourself up. She moves in closer and digs her nails into the soft skin between your legs, sending a shake through your body. “Mother fucker baby, keep going with that…” you say, biting your bottom lip as you watch her. She scratches at your skin a few more times before you finally decide you can’t take it anymore, pulling and pushing on her head at a quicker pace. 

“Mhmm…” she moans as she nods her head ‘yes’, and you feel the deep rumble in your stomach, telling you that you’re not far. She kisses her lips down tightly on you this time, flicking her tongue in all the right places as you feel her throat tightening around you. 

“So fuckin’ deep baby, shit…” you say as your hips jut forward a few times, your dick hitting the back of her throat. Suddenly you feel your world falling apart as you let go into her, the dim orange light of the room turning into flashes of black and white as you send your streams down her throat. You wrap her hair around your hand as you hold her just where you want her, pulling her closely into you as you hiss through your release. 

When you finally take a breath and your vision unblurs, you watch as she wipes her chin with the back of her hand, standing to her feet again and joining you on the bed, a completely smug and satisfied look on her face.

“The fuck are you grinning about, huh?” you ask, pulling her in toward you again. 

“Nothin’, I just really love being the one to make you make noises like that,” she says, biting back another smile. 

“Well, you’ve got me figured out, seriously,” you compliment her, and it was the absolute truth. 

She shrugs you off. “Eh, I’m out of practice, really.” 

Oh?

“No way, you’re like… well seasoned,” you kid. 

“You dick!” she yells, stifling a laugh. “I haven’t even done that in six months.” You can tell she regretted saying it as soon as she did, suddenly avoiding your eyes and pulling one of your pillows up to cover her chest. 

“...You’re kidding,” you breathe, truly in disbelief. 

She shakes her head. “Lame, huh?”

“N-no, not lame. I–You haven’t, since…?” you stammer.

“Nope. Since your birthday. Go ahead, laugh at me all you want,” she says, motioning with her hand. 

Her words hit you right in the gut. She hadn’t been with anyone since you…

“I’m not gonna laugh at you, Y/N. I… I actually haven’t been with anyone else, either.”

Her eyes meet yours in disbelief. “Really?”

You nod. “Not this time around.”

She sits for just a second, hugging the pillow to her. “Why not?”

You shrug, the nerves bubbling in your stomach. “I dunno, no one’s really…struck my interest. Not enough to bring back home, anyway.”

She pulls one shoulder up toward her ear. “Yeah, mine neither. I’ve…tried, ya know, but.” She swallows. “My birthday is my favorite holiday for a reason.”

You can’t stop the joy that rises in your chest, your extremities tingling and your heart beating in your ears as she basically admits she doesn’t enjoy anyone but you. She hasn’t made it work with anyone else in six months. 

“Six months is a long time to wait, Y/N,” you mutter quietly. 

She pulls the pillow down, moving closer to you on the bed. “Not when what you’re waiting for is all you can ever think about.”

Fuck… it feels like your head is going to float right off of your shoulders out of a pure high at her admission. Your chest gets warm and your mouth goes dry, and you swear if you were looking in the mirror, there would be stars in your eyes. 

She feels the same. 

After a few seconds of disbelief, you find the nerve to answer her, a hardly audible whisper as you bring your face close to hers. “I think I’d wait for you for fifty years, if you wanted me to…”

Her hand cups your jawline as she grits her teeth, pulling you into her again. Your mouth wants to devour her all over again, but instead you take note of the tender moment, laying a sweet kiss to her lips that has a promise behind it. 

Her eyebrows furrow together when you pull away, a look you’re familiar with but also one that told you she’s confused. She opens her mouth to speak, probably to ask you if what you’d just said is true. But nothing comes out. She just stares at you in disbelief. 

Your hand finds her hip as you yank her body in with a little force, almost nose to nose now.

“Yeah, you heard me right. I’d wait for you, I will wait for you, if that’s what you want me to do…” you say, feeling so anxious for the outcome of this conversation you could almost be sick. It’s either going to end really really well, or so badly that you’d end up alone in bed tonight. But the risk outweighs the outcome, and you are ready and prepared to take it, whatever it might be.

She swallows hard as you watch her eyes become glazed. Her hands are balancing around your neck and across your shoulders, and you can feel the heat rising in her palms as her digits nervously fidget. It feels like a hundred years pass in the time you wait for her to respond, and you contemplate taking it all back. Making up an excuse, saying just kidding, we’re just friends… But the panic stops as soon as she finds her words. 

She shakes her head. “Wait for me… you’d, you wanna actually…?”

“Be with you more than just twice a year? Yeah, Y/N, I really would. You– you kinda have held a really special place for a long, long time now.” You swallow again, letting the words you’ve kept pent up for so long finally flow, but still feeling a little embarrassed by the admission. “I just never said anything, ya know, because of our arrangement. It worked so well for us but. I… I don’t know. It feels like more to me, lately.” 

She nods hard again, a tiny smile crossing her lips as her eyes stay trained on yours. But she stays quiet. 

“Can you say something, Y/N?” you ask through a huffed laugh. 

“It is more, Danny. It’s been more to me for a long time, too. You take up more space in my mind than I’d like to admit,” she says, now avoiding eye contact. 

Wow… finally. Finally, there it is.

“Why do we both deny it?” you whisper.

She shrugs, massaging the back of your neck. “I don’t know. But I don’t really want to anymore.”

You wrap your arm around her torso, pulling her weight from underneath her as you lay her flat on her back. 

“Then we don’t,” you say as you tower over her, the candle light flickering in her eyes and off of her skin. Her body is beautiful, there’s no denying that, but what has always gotten you is how she carries herself…how her body language is always reflective of exactly what she’s feeling in the moment. And right now, as her midsection arches up into you begging you to touch her again, you have no other thoughts than to appease her. 

Your mouth travels down her chest and across her belly, leaving long, lingering kisses across her body. As you get closer and closer to her heat, you move to kneel on the floor just as she had for you earlier, slipping your hands underneath her to pull her to the edge. Even in all your wild, drunken sexual adventures with her, for some reason, you’d never concentrated on this. You’d never gone down on her. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, as it was one of your favorite activities, but the immediate pull to one another on these nights always ended up with getting straight to the good part. Neither of you really ever left time for the embellishments. 

She perks up onto her elbows as she gazes at your face between her legs. “Danny…”

“Let me show you what I mean, baby,” you more ask than say, running your tongue down the inside of her thigh. Her body stiffens as she still gives you that look of hesitation. Your tongue drifts over her opening as you tease her, barely ghosting overtop of everywhere but her sweet spot. She shudders again. “Unless you don’t want me to…”

“No! No I want you to. Please. You’ve just…” she finally relaxes her head back down. 

“I know I haven’t. And that’s on me. But I wanna show you that I’ve been thinking about this, doing just this since the last time I had you…” you explain, finally delving your tongue deeply into her. Her reaction is immediate, her back arching up again as her hands find your hair. The sounds she makes make you strain to keep it together, and the taste of her finally on your tongue is enough to make you want to stop altogether, and get to the good part, but you savor this instead, realizing you’ve wanted her like this for so long. 

You squeeze your lips over her, inching your tongue languidly inside of her and moving it back up to circle her clit. When you finally find it, she squeals, exhaling as her hands rip into your scalp. You glance to the head of the bed, pulling down a pillow and positioning it underneath her back to get a better angle. Your hands snake under her again, squeezing her ass as you pull her in. 

“Fuck Danny, why did you hold back on this for so long?” she asks through a pant, her legs opening and closing over your ears. “Shit…” You realize that you don’t really have an answer.

She’s writhing and fighting herself, and you can tell she’s nearing the peak, until she backs off again, likely wanting to make this last. She hums and purrs as you work over her clit, using your tongue and lips to kiss every single drenched inch of her. You feel like you can’t get enough, until you remember. Her birthday gift. 

You slow things down, pulling away a bit until you see the disgruntled look on her face at the disconnect. “No, don’t stop… don’t go..” she begs. Her expression is desperate, and you want nothing more than to feel her lose herself at the mercy of your mouth. So you dive back in, this time with a purpose.

“‘M not goin’ anywhere, baby,” you manage through kneads of your tongue against her. You bring your arm up between the two of you, using your elbow and hand to press her legs apart while your free hand’s two middle digits enter her again. Your tongue never lets up, circling and swirling furiously as her muscles tense. You take that as your cue to work harder, feeling her clenching around your hand already. You pump in and out of her again, making sure your tongue is pointed exactly where she needs it.

“Fuck, Danny baby… yes…” she breathes, and the pet name sends a shockwave straight to your dick, hearing her utter your name followed by a word so personal. You cup your lips over her clit, using a quick and harsh suction motion as you flick your tongue across it.

When she finally lets go, her cries and slurs of curses echo through your room, the most beautiful sound you’re sure you’ve ever heard. Her hands stay tangled in your locks, forcing your face into her as close as you can get. You savor it all, the sight, the sound, the taste… you wonder why you ever denied yourselves this piece of the puzzle after all this time, but then again, maybe saving something this intimate for right now is exactly what was supposed to happen. 

Her body jolts and shakes as she lets the pleasure wrack through her, and you devour every last bit. You crawl up her once she opens her eyes again, her hand freeing from your hair and back down to your face, pulling across your cheeks and mouth as she wipes her wetness from you. Her voice is strained as she finally speaks. “Fuck that was…”

“Fucking delicious,” you finish, pressing your lips to hers again, making her nod into you.

“Yeah, fucking delicious,” she agrees, wrapping her legs around you and using the leverage to pull you onto her. If you weren’t rock hard before, you surely are now after witnessing her falling apart for you like that. You can tell she’s already ready to get things going again, but you stop her, pulling away like you had done before. You stand from the bed, watching that same look of disappointment come across her features. 

“Don’t look at me like that, just wanna give you your birthday gift,” you say, walking around the bed to your nightstand. You grab the cake and place it carefully into your lap, grabbing the lighter again as she comes and sits beside you. 

“I already blew out my candles, Danny,” she says, balancing her chin on your shoulder.

“You did, but I didn’t tell you that these are special candles. Not meant to be blown out,” you explain, flicking the lighter to life and igniting them both.

“Not meant to be blown out? Why–”

“Because they’re really an oil,” you say, putting the lighter down and grabbing the plastic tray under the cake again, holding it up between you. “These are candles specially made for us to let melt and drip onto each other. Not like regular wax, these don’t burn as hot. Once they start to melt a little, they turn into a body oil.”

“Like a massage oil?” she asks, and you nod. 

“Mmhm, see, you can already smell the lavender and bergamot. They had birthday cake scented, but. I thought that might be overkill,” you smirk. Her eyes drift down to the candles with intrigue, and she bites her bottom lip in. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But, I’ve heard good things…”

She picks up one of the candles from the cake, carefully licking the icing off the bottom. She holds her opposite hand out palm down, and lets the melty wax oil drip down onto the back of her hand, a few droplets of dark red liquid dripping down between her fingers. 

“Doesn’t burn at all,” she says, reaching to grab the cake from you to set on the table again. She then takes your hand, letting the wax drip down onto your hand, too. 

The sensation is more of an extremely warm electrical pulse than the burn you’d expect, and it quickly dulls as the oil cools. It doesn’t harden like normal wax, instead it just turns into a thick oil. You take your other finger and rub it across your skin, feeling the softness of the lotion-like liquid sink into your skin. “Wow, no, it feels good,” you agree. 

“Lay back,” you suggest, and she does, handing the candle off to you. 

You question the situation, not knowing exactly where to drip the oil to make her feel the best. You assume maybe her chest and stomach, maybe even down her legs, if she feels up to it. You hold the candle directly above her sternum, raising your eyebrows in final question before you let it drip. 

“Yeah, go ahead,” she says, her hand landing on your knee. 

The red liquid finally falls through the air, a singular drop that lands and splatters across her chest. Her mouth opens just a little, but then her surprise quickly turns into a devious smirk. “Feel good?” you ask. 

“Aha, yeah, actually. It burns pretty bad for a split second but it goes away…shit, do more,” she pleads. 

You go along with her request, drizzling tiny drops between her breasts and down her stomach, nearly completely coating her in the oily liquid. 

“You sure you like it?” you ask as you watch her face repeatedly turn from a surprised grimace into a devilish look of satisfaction. Thankfully, that second look, you’re more than familiar with. 

“Yessss…” she hisses as another drop falls onto her skin. “I feel so…” her mouth lies open as you continue letting the oil drip and pool, the floral scent filling your nostrils.

“So what?” you ask.

Her eyes bore into yours as she bites her lips between her teeth, her hand still gripping hard into your leg muscle. “I like the pain. It’s like… I don’t know how to explain it…” she breathes. “Like a sensation I don’t want to ever end.”

You take your free hand and gently massage it in, taking time to work over her nipples and stomach. “God, that feels so good…” she whispers, her hand now digging into the muscle of your thigh. You place the candle back on the cake, turning to pay special attention to rubbing your hands over her muscles. 

The heady scent of the oils mixed with the residual alcohol still flowing through your system brings a whole new dizziness to the atmosphere, and you feel as though the whole situation is only becoming heavier. You reach over to your phone sitting on the night stand, and flip your music to some psychedelic playlist. The distorted guitar and scratchy bass sounds bring you both to a new plane, and you take the moment to recognize the woman you have your hands on, and how she feels underneath them. 

Her eyes flutter open and closed as your hands drift, massaging the soft oils across the mountains and valleys of her body. “You want me to do you?” she asks, eyes flicking back to the candle. 

You shake your head. “No, shh. It’s your birthday, just relax.”

She smiles a little as she gets comfortable again, moving her body a little closer to yours on the bed. Your hands travel up her shoulders and neck, slowly kneading the tense muscles. Then you move on to her hips and waist, squeezing at the thickness of her. You feel yourself getting turned on all over again just by touching her this way. You watch as her hands drift across the tops of her legs, gripping at her own thighs. The visual is almost too much, watching as her fingertips pull at her skin. You reach to grab the still-lit candle, adjusting your body to sit beside her legs. 

“‘M gonna try your legs, that okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, go ahead…” she mumbles, her eyes still rolling around behind her eyelids. You move between her legs and let the wax drip onto her inner thighs, not really caring if any lands on your comforter. “Ffff…” she hisses, biting onto her bottom lip. Her face contorts from pain to pleasure as the oil cools, and you replace the candle, making your way back to massaging her. 

Your hands nearly cover the entirety of her upper thighs, your fingertips digging into the skin just as hers had done a second ago. You push the oil all around, paying special attention to start at her knees, and slowly work your way up. You have half a mind to lick into her again, seeing it now from this view, but you stop yourself. Your thumbs rub into the creases where her legs meet her heat, and she practically moans out at your touch. 

“You’re being such a fuckin’ tease, Daniel,” she says, her hands cupping her breasts.

“Mmm, I don’t think you understand how hard it is to stop myself right now…” you huff. 

She bites her lips again and shakes her head side to side, obviously feeling the same emotions as you. This doesn’t feel like it normally does, and you feel more anxiety than ever to satisfy her. You watch as she reaches her hands for you, signaling for you to get things going. 

“Don’t stop yourself then,” she stutters, her voice almost shuddering. Her hand grips into your hair again and pulls you up, your hands crawling up either side of her as her nails claw and pull at your back. 

Suddenly your mind finds itself again as you remember to grab protection. You balance your forehead on her sternum, both of you already panting and sweaty as you pull yourself away to reach for your bedside drawer. 

“No, just—it’s fine,” she says, grabbing onto your arm. 

You meet her with a puzzled look, not quite understanding that she’s changing her mind on a whim. This is one part of your agreement that you both have always stuck to. 

“What? I’m—“

“Just…it’s fine. Don’t get it,” she says, giving you a look that could kill. “It’s been six months…right…”

You think it over, rolling the thought over and over in your mind. “You sure?” 

She nods, “Yeah, yeah I’m sure. I’m…we’re good. I promise.”

You feel your heart growing in your chest, feeling a new wave of anxiousness and…something else bubbling up. It’s almost blinding you to even think about what’s about to take place, this already feels so different than before. 

The slick of the oil across your chests make your bodies slide against one another as you line yourself up, both hands on either side of her head. Her hands gently drift across your hips, a devilish smirk sneaking across her lips. 

“Gonna feel you for real for the first time…” she says gently, looking more excited than you’d seen her in ages. 

“Yeah, no pressure,” you answer, pressing yourself through her folds. The sensation alone is making you quake, feeling her against you without a barrier. 

“What, you nervous or something?” She asks, digging her nails into your scalp. 

You clench your jaw, feeling the tip enter her just a little bit. “Kinda.”

“Daniel…shut up. No you’re not.”

“I swear,” you reply, pressing in just a little more. “Different now, like this.” You feel your heart beating from your ribcage. 

Her hands grip behind you, pulling you in towards her, but you hold back. “S’okay, just me… please…” Her legs lift and her ankles cross at your lower back. 

You push forward, telling yourself it’s okay to fill her all the way to the hilt. It’s now or never, and you’ve waited so long for this, wanted her for real for so long. You make sure to watch her face as you bottom out, taking in every single detail that you can. 

HER POV

It’s almost dreamlike…

The dim and comforting glow of the room, the sweet scented oil that’s relaxed your muscles, the dying feeling of excitement from the gift Danny had gotten you…

But mostly, the feeling of his body towering over you and buried as deeply as he can get, finally without the use of protection. 

You’d been wanting Danny for real for longer than you’d like to admit, now, and now that it’s finally happening, it’s almost as if you couldn’t have dreamt it up any better. Of course he feels nervous…you do too. Something in the air has shifted, and it’s not just because you both had finally admitted to wanting more than your predisposed agreement. 

“Fuck, Danny…” you can’t help but yelp in a pitiful high-pitched squeal. Feels just like you always thought, but somehow better. 

Much, much better. 

He begins to pick up a pace after you lock your ankles against him harder, forcing his hips to find a rhythm. “You good?” he asks, almost shyly. 

“Yeah, better than good, shit…”

His left hand grips your jaw with a little force before he brings his lips to yours in a heated mess. His thrusts are working in perfect time, hitting you in just the right spot to tighten the knot deep inside you already. 

“You feel so perfect baby…god, never thought I’d have you like this…” his lips are hot against your skin as he speaks, his teeth nipping at your sensitive spots every few seconds. 

“Leave a mark, baby… gimmie a reminder…” you breathe into his ear, making the light nips on your chest switch into slightly painful lovebites that you’re positive you’ll be able to see turn into bright red marks tomorrow. He growls into your skin as his teeth sink in just enough to make you squirm beneath him.

Though the room is flickering with a tangerine glow, the multicolored vibrance of the light flashing behind your eyes brings a whole new depth to what you’re experiencing, an overwhelming feeling of unwarranted pleasure that is undoubtedly ripping you apart at the seams. He’s all you’ve ever wanted, better than anything you’ve ever felt, and he’s been living under the same roof as your best friend for way too long.

You can tell he’s getting closer by the tumbling of his thrusts, but you swear you never want it to end. The euphoria taking over your mind is making you dizzy. 

Suddenly he slows down a little bit, rolling himself to the bed but keeping himself inside as he plucks you to straddle his lap. Your hands find his pecs as you begin swirling your hips, feeling him at a completely different angle, now. His curls are laid out behind him on the white blankets, and his chest is gleaming from the oils. 

You begin bouncing on him, his hands gripping into the thick muscle of your thighs as you grind on him. His head leans back, his jaw moving between hanging open and clenching tightly. “Y/N, shit…I’m not gonna be…”

You can feel the twist in your stomach, the deep tightening letting you know that you are close, too. You lean down and press a slow and needing kiss to his lips, showing him all the emotion that’s currently coursing through your body in the act. “Me too baby, just do it. Want to feel you…” you stammer through the ravaging feeling of your impending orgasm. You squeeze him hard, sending you both over the edge, tumbling down together in a flustered mess of echoed praises for one another. 

He stays buried inside you for just a few seconds as you both come down, neither of you wanting to be the first to speak when you finally catch your breath. After a minute of silence, you let yourself come out of the cloudy bliss, sliding yourself up and off of him. 

As soon as your body hits the bed beside him, he’s craning over you again, gathering you up into his arms into the most loving embrace you’d felt from him yet. 

“Every six months isn’t gonna work for me anymore, Y/N…” he admits, fully submitting himself with an honest look in his eye. “I just…”

“Me neither, Danny. It’s not enough. Won’t ever be enough,” you admit, taking his face in your hands. And it was true, after experiencing him tonight in the way that you did, there was no way you’d ever be able to wait for him again. There’s too much emotion involved that you’ve both been hiding for too long. Too much still yet to explore. 

“Stay, please? And not just for tonight,” he whispers, his thumb gliding across your cheek. 

You nod. You know there’s nothing on this earth you want more than to wake up every day next to him…the friend who has always been just a little bit more. 

“Okay,” you concede, sliding your body into his. 

“Okay? Yeah?” He asks with an excited lilt. 

“Yes. I’m not going anywhere,” you respond. “Couldn’t leave you if I wanted to...”

The low chuckle that rumbles through his chest and onto your cheek pressed against it feels so longingly familiar that you wonder why you ever thought it wouldn’t work out to begin with. “What took you so long?” he asks, wrapping and squeezing you hard. 

“Could ask you the same…” you laugh into his chest. 

You fall asleep with him that night a different woman than the one you were when you walked into his room, and not just because you’re a year older, now. You’d finally gotten everything you’d ever wanted. 

Danny nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, sleep already lacing his voice. A soft feeling of comfort washes over you as you realize how safe and protected you feel in his arms, and how you aren’t too shy to admit that this feels more right than you could have ever anticipated.

Now you won’t have to wait six months to share your love with him again. You’ll be able to share it with him tomorrow, over coffee in the kitchen.

He presses a sweet kiss to your temple as you let the heaviness of sleep overtake you, already falling into a dazed place of complete contentment.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

.

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[thecapricunt1616]

NURSE!!! NURSE!!! SHE BROKE OUT OF HER CAGE TO POST MORE- Dad!Carmy brainrot for you all 😉🫶

— so I Imagine him getting a call in the middle of the night, you’re heavily pregnant with your third. His Apple Watch thankfully woke him (you’d be worried for him to get a call so late). He gets up without waking you going into the living room and answering to hear your teen daughters watery voice at the end of the line and she’s all “Daddy promise you won’t be mad at me” (more below)

He’s immediately grabbing his keys, putting on his shoes and brown plaid coat that he’s had longer than she’d been alive, or then he’d even been knowing you for that matter - his heart thumping in his chest and throat tightening. “Sweetheart why aren’t you home right now?! are you safe? Tell me wha’s wrong- what happened- I won’t be upset honey” he assured her, his stomach clenching at the thought of her hurt.

“P-paisley wanted me to go t’this party with her and - and the police came daddy and she left me there alone- and I got arrested. Come get me I don’t wanna die in hereeee” she sobbed dramatically. He sighed gratefully, starting the car.

“You aren’t going to die princess. Give me 20 minutes mm? And we can talk ‘bout y’punishment w’mommy t’morrow” he said and she huffs

“You’re gonna snitch on me T’mommy?! Daddy you’re being so unfair! “ she whined

He chuckled a bit, “I’m bein’ very fair. I love you babygirl I’ll s’ya soon” he said and hung up. He knew if he’d have woken you, you would have freaked out and panicked at the thought of your little girl drunk and scared and alone. Considering how far along you were currently the stress could most definitely cause early labor and he did not want to deal with that tonight.

He’d make it to the police station fast bc ofc when he was picking a home for his family it would be super close to one for safety reasons and when he walked in and saw his baby sitting in a holding cell with other adults being held on misdemeanor charges, his heart would break.

She would be curled into herself on the bench, knees flush to her chest hugging herself, cheeks tear stained, big blue doe-like eyes puffy and red with thick tears that were still falling. He wanted to pick her up like she was 2 again - even though the top of her head hit his shoulder now, and cradle her like the baby he couldn’t help but see any time he looked at her.

“Oh princess” he said softly and she looks up, quickly standing up and she couldn’t help but burst in to sobs as relief washed over her when she finally saw her dad, who had never let her down from the day she was born - he was always there for her, as were you, but Carmy was always softer on the kids then you were because his dad never showed any of his siblings softness, so he wanted to be sure the kids always trusted him in that way

“Daddy you came! I’m so scared please please I’ll never do it again please get me out of here dad I’m so sorry I’m so so sorry daddy” she broke down and he felt tears pushing at the back of his eyes he could only swallow back because they were in public.

“You- hey-“ he snaps his fingers and the cop standing outside the holding cell door finally acknowledges him “I’m her fuckin father- let ‘er out. Now.” He said annoyed with the man’s lack of attention for his own job.

“She’s unable to be released until her fine is paid” he said and shrugged “it’s the law”

Carmen dug the stupid reciept paper he’d shoved in his pocket that he’d paid the front clerk when he got here, pushing it to his chest “open the fucking door, jagoff. Shes 16 the fuck is wrong with you she’s a baby” he said angrier, voice getting louder.

“Sir I’m gonna need you to calm down.” He said and Carmen rolled his eyes, 2 words he hated hearing even more than anything when put together.

“Look at the fucking paper. And let my daughter go” he snapped, holding his baby’s hand through the bars gently and rubbing a soothing thumb over her knuckles, she was shaking like a leaf.

“Mmm” the man grumbled, opening up the door and she rushed into Carmen’s arms. He kisses the top of her head tenderly, wrapping her in a tight bear hug.

“Y’never allowed t’scare me like that again angel girl” he mumbled into her hair, breathing in her scent that he could pick out even in his sleep as his baby girl.

“I’m sorry daddy I’m so so sorry” she mumbled over and over, tears soaking his shirt. He hushed her how he did when she was just a baby and rubbed her back soothingly.

“S’okay babygirl I think y’learned y’lesson mm? Y’think you wanna go out drinkin again before y’21?” He teased lightly and she sniffled, shaking her head lightly. He didn’t care that she was getting snot all over him, or that she was staining one of his near $80 white shirts with her mascara and eyeliner she’d gotten with a Ulta gift card ‘Santa’ had gotten her, since Carmen couldn’t bare the fact his baby girl was growing up.

“No- no daddy I promise. I promise I’ll never do it ever again. Please don’t tell mommy” she pleads and looks up at him with big watery eyes. He carefully thumbed away the large rings of black under her eyes and cups her face tenderly.

“Sweetheart I am not in control of what mommy does. You know this, and I can’t lie to mommy. Are you asking me t’lie t’mommy? M’already riskin’ my spot in bed by not waking her up t’tell her ‘bout this” He asked sternly, she knew that lies were a big boundary in your family - they just hurt people unless they were ‘happy lies’ aka surprises like gifts or sweet things, but withholding information from each other in fear of making someone upset was a big no no in your house.

She huffed annoyed, lip quivering and she nuzzled back into his chest “unfair. Mommy is gonna ground me forever” she whined.

“Mm - maybe she should ground you. What the hell is this outfit? She’s not gonna be happy ‘bout this, y’gonna get sick” he tells her. She was in nothing but a tank top dress, flimsy nylons, and a half cardigan. He wraps his jacket around her shoulders as they walk out to the car, of course he couldn’t care less about freezing his ass off because his baby needed to be warm even if it was a short walk to his SUV.

“It’s cute dad and m’not gonna get sick! All the girls were wearing dresses like this!” She snapped sassily as she buckled in.

“Mm cute - sure pumpkin. What were you even doin’ - what party was worth the rage of y’mother? Especially when you know she’s been in a mood lately” he asked. A mood was what he called it, you were really just overly hormonal and sore and giving birth within the next 14 days, so everything was ticking you off

“Hally Hawkins party dad. Only the coolest senior at school!! If I was the only one who wasn’t there how was I supposed to ever find a date to the winter ball next month?!” She huffed, crossing her arms

“Date?!” His eyes widen “since when did we say you could date?!” He asked quickly “you aren’t dating you- you can’t date until you’re married!” He said seriously to which she just giggled

“How am I supposed to get married if I don’t date daddy! I’m 16 now! I’m getting my license soon! I should be able to hold hands with a boy I like-“

“Hold hands?!” He exclaims “who the hell is holdin’ y’hand? No- no. No! I’m the only man that holds y’hand and it’s to help you across the street” he grips the steering wheel tighter “y’too little” he said and she whines

“Daddy I’m not little! I’m 16! You promised to stop calling me little” she pushes his hand away at a stoplight when he goes to fix the strap of her dress out of habit “daaaad!!!” She whines and he huffs

“Quit all the whinin’! Y’little as long as y’live w’me and that means that y’not dating and y’not holding hands” he pulls into your driveway, turning the lights off before as to not wake you. “And quiet comin inside- if you wake y’sister mommy is gonna be upset she’s been havin’ a hard time sleepin’ “ he opened her door, taking her purse and helping her out of the car.

“Is this mommy’s?” He holds up the purse and she takes it from him, holding it to her chest defensively.

“She never wears it anymore what- are you gonna snitch?! If you do I’ll tell her about you eating all her ice cream” she teased and headed to the door

He gasped, “you wouldn’t dare- you’d sell out y’own father?! After he just went and picked y’ass up outta the slammer. Maybe I shoulda let you stay there eh’? A night in jail may teach you some manners missy” he jokes as he unlocks the door, not seeing the kitchen light on.

“Where were you!” You were stood at the end of the hallway, fluffy robe and slippers on, hand over your bump as you stood there while nervously pacing. Carmy and your Daughter give eachother the we’ve been caught look before Carmy looks at you, as you narrow your eyes at your daughters arm adorning a very familiar looking black bag.

“Is that- red lipstick…and my purse?!”

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 (𝐞𝐩𝐬. 𝟓-𝟖) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  dialogue  prompts  taken from episodes 5 - 8  of max's  the  penguin  (2024),  created  by  lauren  lefranc.  feel  free  to  edit  and  change  as  you  seem  fit.. )

❛ you came back. put your ass on the line for me. a hundred maseratis couldn’t replace that. ❜

❛ it’s you and me now, kid. till the end. ❜

❛ you messed with the wrong fuckin' family! my mother, my father, they won’t stand for this... ❜

❛ i want what’s mine. ❜

❛ the cops are looking for you. although i get the sense they’d rather find you dead than alive. ❜

❛ you’re not looking too good. ❜

❛ the fuck is wrong with you? you’re fucking sick. ❜

❛ what kind of person kills their own fuckin’ family? ❜

❛ you think i’m a fuckin’ idiot? the second i do what you want, you fucking kill me. so just fuckin’ do it already. ❜

❛ listen, sweetheart, i know you can’t see it right now, but all this shit goin’ down, it’s a good thing. ❜

❛ nothing’s gonna happen to you. i won’t let it. ❜

❛ all i’m asking is for you to hang tight just a little longer. that’s it. and then it’s you and me on top of the world, baby. ❜

❛ you are a desperate fucking liar. ❜

❛ i got no reason to lie anymore! ❜

❛ god, she was beautiful, your mom. she was so beautiful. she had that laugh. when you got her going, it’d knock you out. ❜

❛ i couldn’t help your mother. let me help you. ❜

❛ i’ll find a place that’s safe. and i’ll call you when i get there, alright? ❜

❛ i’d like to be a part of whatever’s next... if you’ll have me. ❜

❛ if you join me, you will have a new family. and i’ll pay you what you’re worth. more money than you’ve ever seen before. ❜

❛ we had a deal. we look out for each other. we don’t fuck each other over. ❜

❛ you know i’m yours. but right now, i’m just gonna hold you back. ❜

❛ freedom always comes at a cost, doesn’t it? ❜

❛ i’ve come here to end the war between our families. ❜

❛ i am offering you an alliance. we join our families as a show of strength. ❜

❛ bored with me already? ❜

❛ you know, fugitives really shouldn’t leave their rooms. ❜

❛ i wouldn’t have pegged you as a cook. ❜

❛ you want me on your side, right? ❜

❛ if my mind goes before my body’s ready, i need you to help me. you gotta help me die. ❜

❛ i want you to do your fucking job. that’s what i fucking want. ❜

❛ i ain’t talkin’ to you when you’re like this. ❜

❛ you don’t seem surprised to see me. ❜

❛ dressing like this... is this for you or your clients? ❜

❛ i used to lie to men like that. but you don’t have to anymore. you have the power now. ❜

❛ you are good at telling people what they wanna hear. ❜

❛ you were born into opportunity, so you can afford to think in black and white. ❜

❛ but you did come here to kill me, right? ❜

❛ you done the right thing. protected those you care about. ❜

❛ it gets easier. ❜

❛ late to my own party. it’s not a good look, i know. ❜

❛ how about we watch a movie, one of the old ones you like? ❜

❛ it’s a date then. ❜

❛ here, i made your favorite, whiskey and soda. ❜

❛ what i wouldn’t do to get out of here. live in one of them penthouses all the celebrities buy. ❜

❛ that’s just a little taste of what you got comin’. ❜

❛ so, did you bring me here to feed me toast or you gonna kill me? ❜

❛ you hear me? i beat you. i win. ❜

❛ there’s a storm coming. i’m gonna need your help. ❜

❛ is that what you think? that… i would do something… as horrible as that? ❜

❛ you getting any sleep? ❜

❛ it might do you some good to get out of the house. ❜

❛ get dressed. we’re goin’ out. ❜

❛ what do you want? tell me, and i’ll get it. ❜

❛ of course i’m gonna take care of you. i’d do anything for you. ❜

❛ i see you. in ways that other people don’t. ❜

❛ i see the way you smile when you want people to think you’re enjoying something you ain’t. ❜

❛ i see how you smoke more when you’re thinking, and you drink more when you’re sad. ❜

❛ i see how hard you work, how smart you are… and how you wish the people who matter would notice. ❜

❛ no one else believes in you like me. no one else is gonna give you what you deserve. ❜

❛ just don’t give up on me. ❜

❛ you gotta know your place, or you’re gonna catch a bullet. ❜

❛ you’re a disappointment. ❜

❛ you’re the devil. you’re the goddamn devil. ❜

❛ get your shit together and, uh… you know… be you. ❜

❛ all right, you stay put. don’t do anything that might call attention to yourself, all right? ❜

❛ if anybody sees me in here with you, i’m… ❜

❛ what do you say you and me go for a drive? ❜

❛ just like old times, huh? ❜

❛ you got no idea what it feels like, born into nothin’. ❜

❛ you don’t wanna put your gun to my back… make a big show of it? ❜

❛ you have always been a monster. ❜

❛ you’re never gonna find peace, you know that? ❜

❛ you’re going to hell… sweetheart. ❜

❛ i’ll save you a seat. ❜

❛ get some cups. snuck you in a little whiskey to celebrate. ❜

❛ you gotta tell me… just tell me you’re proud of me. ❜

❛ come on. just once. just tell me you’re proud of me. ❜

❛ tell me i did good! ❜

❛ i did it for you! i did it all for you, the whole thing! ❜

❛ you think she forgives me? ❜

❛ you know i couldn’t’ve done any of this shit without you, right? ❜

❛ thanks for taking a chance on me. ❜

❛ you’re family to me. ❜

❛ you and me… it’s all that’s left. ❜

❛ now, i don’t believe in kismet or nothing. but… it’s good that we met. ❜

❛ i can’t bring you with me this time. ❜

❛ that’s the thing about family. it’s your strength. it drives you. but fuck if it don’t make ya weak, too. and i can’t have that no more. ❜

❛ you got a good heart. ❜

❛ it wasn’t for nothin’. ❜

❛ dance with me, sweetheart. ❜

❛ tell me you love me. ❜

❛ tell me you’re proud of me. ❜

❛ i’m so proud of you. ❜

❛ nothing is standing in your way now. ❜

[justmeinatree]

02 - Together, We’re The Greatest

Summary : part 2 to Let Passion Get Too Much … niall x louis x reader threesome

previous part

TW : smut, double penetration, creampie, honestly it’s fkn filthy.

Word Count : 5.5k

“louis !” niall smiles, speaking a bit too loudly, even with the thumping of the music, obviously a good amount of alcohol flowing through his veins. he pats his friend on the shoulder, pulling him close. 

“niall !” louis chuckles, screaming too loudly, on purpose to imitate his drunk friend, not having drank quite as much, as he’d gotten to the party a bit late. 

“c’mere,” niall hums, nodding towards the back door, and leading him outside, effectively shutting out the booming bass and the rambunctious crowd that had taken over his living room. “haven’t seen ya much tonight, wanted to talk to you though.”

“yeah ?” he laughs, watching the buzz course through his friend, lighting a cigarette as they’re now outside, “what’s up nialler ?”

“think you might want to stay a bit later than everyone else ?” he asks, the fog in his brain making it seem obvious to himself as to what he was asking.

“now why am i getting roped into clean up duty ? know i’m the fuckin worst at it. why don’t you ask-���

“no, no,” niall’s quick to shake his head. “y/n’s been dropping hints for her birthday present, and, well, think she’d fuckin kill me if i didn’t at least ask,” he mumbles, locking eyes with louis, “would you, maybe, want to spend another night with us ?”

louis’ eyes grow wide, taking a good hearty puff from his smoke, gnawing on his lip for a moment, thinking it over, before blowing out.

obviously he was well aware that niall wasn’t asking for louis to spend the night just hanging out, eventually crashing somewhere cozy, or more often than not, not quite cozy, from pure exhaustion.

no, this time, he was clearly asking about sex, referring to the time, 7 months ago now, when he thought he’d forgotten his smokes and barged in on his friends’ late night activities. 

as he puffs away at his cigarette, his brain starts reeling with images of that trusty time. how fucking tight you were taking both of them, such a fuckin good girl for doing so. christ, he even remembers how good niall’s tongue made him feel.

niall plucks the smoke from louis’ fingers, taking a drag himself, louis’ brain flicking back to reality, and to the question at hand.

“can see you thinking over there,” niall hums around a puff of smoke. “dont have to if you dont want to. s’just a question, yeah ? i can always say i forgot to ask you, or i can come up-“

“fuckin hell you’re chatty when you’re drunk,” louis laughs, shaking his head. “was so good last time. plus, i can’t live with myself if i disappoint the birthday girl,” he adds, chuckling.

niall giggles, biting his lip, “it did feel good. think y/n and i both, didn’t shut up about it for weeks.”

louis feels a light blush work its way up his neck to the apples of his cheeks, eyes growing wide, “s’that so ?”

“mhmm,” niall nods, obviously saying more than he probably would care to admit if he was sober. thankfully, louis is his most easy going friend, most relaxed of the bunch, not here to judge him, more curious about his friend’s thoughts. “i dont know what it was really, but seeing her take us both, how much more intense it is when there’s more bodies and more hands,” niall rambles on, “felt so fuckin good. dont remember the last time i’d felt so fucked out. s’usually a her thing. i dont know, guess you helped me let go a bit.”

“christ niall, didn’t think you’d felt so strongly about it” louis chuckles embarrassingly, a slight tease to his tone, knowing niall can take it and won’t misread into it. but it does make the blush deepen on his features, deciding to let niall in on his thoughts as well. “was good wasn’t it ? love that you dont over think it. you just go with it, fuckin dirty lad, you.”

they both laugh, niall’s turn to blush a deep crimson, louis’ arm swinging over his shoulders, pulling niall into him, giving his hair a ruffle, “m’not judging, fuckin loved it mate. c’mon, lets go back in.”

as they both trudge back into the house, the loud music hitting their ears again, you finally spot them, making your way over, wrapping your arms around louis’ neck, “you were late !” you pout playfully.

“m’sure i can find a way to make it up to you, love,” louis chuckles, arms winding their way around your waist, holding you tight. and for a moment, a drunken minded moment, you tuck your face into his neck, groaning softly as your senses are invaded with louis, louis, louis.

obviously you’d seen him tons since that trusty night half a year ago, but with your senses inebriated, you felt yourself tingle. felt yourself fall into him, your body already worked up, the prospect of tonight’s activities at the forefront of your imagination. as easy as it usually was to keep your want towards him at bay, 7 months was a long time, and you’re struggling to keep up your composure. especially with the coursing of the alcohol through your bloodstream.

his eyes shut upon hearing your groan, hands gripping into your waist, squeezing hard, niall piping up at the scene, “alright, alright. ya gotta hold it together for a while longer. can’t let everyone see this.”

“he’s right, love,” louis hums against your ear, his warm breath causing a shiver to run down your spine. as he slowly pulls away from you, smiling, “m’gonna get myself a drink, catch up with you a bit. feeling a bit too sober,” he laughs. 

you turn to niall as louis walks off, smiling wide, “you talked to him then,” you hum excitedly, your arms finding their familiar spot around his neck.

“yeah, i did,” he smiles wide, pressing his lips to yours, “think he wants this as bad as we do.”

“we ?” you ask, biting your lip with a knowing smirk. although niall couldn’t stop talking about it last time, he never straight up said that he liked it or that he’d do it again. but you’d known niall long enough to be fairly certain that both were true, no matter how hard he avoided the words per say.

you watch niall’s cheeks turn bright pink, eyes widening, as he stuffs his face against your shoulder, groaning loudly. maybe louis was right, he is chatty when he’s drunk. and he admits way more than he’d like to. it elicits a laugh from you, patting his head, “dont be ashamed. love that we can do this together. that all of us can enjoy it just as much.”

you can feel niall nodding against your neck, trailing kisses up to your jaw and cheeks, playfully leaving pecks all over your skin in a silent thank you for being the best he could have ever asked for.

the rest of the evening went by in a flash, except for the times that it didn’t. there were moments, the kind where you’d end up pressed between niall and louis on the makeshift dance floor in the living room, both of their hands shamelessly wandering over your body, both of their hips grinding against you. niall’s lips on your neck, louis’ eyes locked with yours, unable to make the move he so desperately wants to make. the tension growing in all your bellies. those are the moments where you wish the evening would end, and you could continue the scene without any wandering eyes.

and as soon as the last person was finally shuffled through the threshold, door shut and locked, you turn your body to face louis, your hands gripped into his shirt, by his collarbones, your entire being rolled into his own, as you press your mouths together. you’d been craving a taste of him all night, and although niall’s constant kisses satiated your needs, you were craving the one you couldn’t have. at least until now.

at first, louis lets out a little yelp in surprise, not expecting you to jump him so soon. his hands grip into your flesh, one onto your arm, the other slipped under your shirt to feel your hip, steadying you. he quickly looses himself into you, into the kiss, his tongue slipping out to stroke over the plushness of your bottom lip, before gently biting into it.

you whimper, your hips instinctively rolling into his, your centre already dripping, clit aching for some form of friction.

louis presses his stiffening prick against you, both hands slipping to your ass, holding you tightly against him, chasing some relief of his own, “forgot how feisty you are, christ.”

“been teasing me all night,” you whine softly, pouting up at louis, feeling niall’s hands gently land on your hips, thumbs stroking your skin. “both of you have.”

“irresistible, you,” niall coos quietly, sucking little kisses into your neck, pressing himself against your ass, louis’ hands pinned between your bodies.

“really are,” louis hums, nipping at your bottom lip playfully, his nails digging into your ass, knuckles pressed back, pushing against niall’s cock, smirking at him, “lucky lad aren’t you nialler ?”

“mhmm, the luckiest,” he agrees, his nails digging small crescent shapes into your soft skin, little twinges of pain shooting through you, as niall locks eyes with louis, giving him a playful look, both of them clearly letting the booze from earlier soothe any nerves, and sideline any reservations.

“can’t believe you’re sharing her with me,” louis chuckles, his clothed cock rolling against your body, pressing you back tighter to niall, a series of mixed moans and panting breaths echoing through the now empty living room.

“she takes us both so well,” niall groans, “love being able to do this with you. both of you,” he adds, finally acknowledging your presence.

you whimper loudly, wiggling your body, wanting to feel them so badly. hearing them talk about you, as if you weren’t there, pushing you to your breaking point. you really couldn’t wait any longer. your body was literally trembling for any sort of relief, “please, fuck, please.”

“hmm, my sweet girl. it depends, yeah ? are you still being good for me ?” niall coos, pushing himself against your ass again.

you quickly nod, leaning your head back against niall’s shoulder, looking up at him, “been good. been good all night.”

louis furrows his eyebrows, watching the exchange before him, “what m’i missing ?”

“show him, pet,” niall smirks, patting your hip, as he steps away, giving you the space to pull away from louis. niall makes his way over to the couch, taking a seat and beckoning you over, “c’mere.”

you smile wide at louis, a playful glint in your eye that doesn’t go unnoticed to him, sauntering over to niall, standing between his thighs, facing him.

niall works over the button and zip of your jeans, eyes flicked up at you as he goes, speaking over you to louis, “we were hoping you’d join us tonight. didn’t want to waste any time, so we got a little head start.”

and well that, that doesn’t really clear anything up for louis. that is until niall finally has your pants worked down, and until your knee rests on the couch next to niall’s thigh, and you’re leaning over to kiss him, hands braced on the back of the sofa. with your ass up towards louis, niall reaches over to pull your thong to the side, exposing a heart shaped gem, nestled between your cheeks, attached to what louis can only assume is a pretty pink plug sitting deep inside you. and based on the conversation he was just privy to, it has been for the entirety of the evening.

for a moment, louis’ head spins, fingers reaching out instinctively to touch the glistening gem, his eyes locked on your ass, cheeks spread just for him to see. he presses softly against the heart, hearing your muffled whimper as your lips are suctioned to niall’s.

“fuckin hell you guys,” louis groans, pressing harder on the plug. “s’this why you kept grinding on her earlier ?” he asks niall, before turning his attention to you, adding, “christ, did it feel good, love ? liked having niall press on your pretty plug ? everyone around, watching the birthday girl, and you’re getting off in the middle of the dance floor. bet your cunt is fuckin soaked because of it, innit ?”

you whine, heat shooting through your spine, landing right in your centre, fingertips digging into niall’s shoulders, as your jaw goes slack. you can feel yourself clenching, the plug getting nestled deeper inside you with every press of louis’ fingers, your pussy begging for attention, arousal dripping down onto niall’s clothed thigh.

“she’s fuckin dripping mate,” niall breathes, his eyes locked between the both of you, watching your body trembling, watching the desperation seeping out of you, watching the drip, drip, drip, of your cunt.

“gonna let me taste, darling ?” louis coos, looking up at niall, confirming that he’s okay with it as well, “missed out last time yeah ? bet your cunt tastes so fuckin sweet.”

“please, please, fuck,” you whimper, nodding quickly, turning yourself around, sitting back against niall’s lap, spreading your legs, in a desperate attempt to display yourself to louis.

his eyes zero in on your pussy, absolutely drenched, your thighs shaking, as his finger tentatively reaches out to swipe over your slit, before patting your inner thigh, “lets strip you properly first, hmm ?” he hums. “maybe we should let niall strip too ? can switch that plug out for something even better.”

“yeah,” you breathe, shuffling off of niall’s lap, louis’ hands falling on your hips, gliding up your body to remove your shirt. he had you almost in a trance, your arms instinctively rising, his fingertips tickling against your heated skin.

you can hear the shuffling behind you, niall’s clothes being stripped off before he stands, kissing over your neck, “strip him, too.”

“help me,” you breathe, so lost in the moment, in the feeling of them, your brain not working properly. 

niall’s gaze flicks up to louis’, silently checking in with him, because this felt oddly different ? but he’s met with a chuckling louis, shaking his head, “with everything that’s about to happen, i don’t think taking my clothes off should be anything to worry about.”

niall laughs, flipping him off, before reaching for louis’ pants, and pulling them down along with his boxers in one quick swoop, as you make quick work of removing his shirt.

“christ, you two don’t waste any time,” louis shakes his head, smirking, watching niall go to sit back down, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you back to sit on him. watches as niall grips your inner thighs, spreading your legs to hook them over his knees, sitting his feet up against the coffee table.

“give us a hand, mate,” niall hums, “can you take the plug out ?”

louis’ brain snaps into action, nodding, “‘course i can,” as he makes his way between niall’s legs, dropping to his knees, eyes level with your cunt. he can feel his mouth watering, desperate to take a lick, to taste you. but, for the moment, there’s a task at hand. 

you can feel the moment louis’s fingers reach out for the plug, a small, breathy whimper getting caught in your throat. it doesn’t go unnoticed to niall, his face practically next to yours, making him pepper soft kisses along your shoulder, fingertips ghosting over your stomach, hips, thighs, soothing you.

louis twists the plug around, watching your pussy flutter with every move, working a slow rhythm inside you, not wanting to pull it out too quickly. 

your arms reach up, one hand landing in niall’s hair, your thumb stroking his scalp, as your fingers grip and run through his hair. he can hear your breathy pants in response to louis’ teasing, “s’he playing with you, pretty girl ?”

you nod, humming an affirmation, biting on your lip as you feel louis pull the plug out halfway, feeling the catch of the largest part around your rim, before quickly pressing it back in. you stuff your face into niall’s neck, breathing him in, gripping his hair tightly for a moment.

niall groans in response, hips bucking up, his prick pressing up against the back of louis’ hand, eliciting a laugh, “alright, message received, no more teasing,” louis hums, working the plug out of you, watching a dribble of arousal leak down from your centre.

“barely need lube,” louis bites his lip, watching a second bubble drip down, your pussy clenching at his words, “she’s fuckin dripping on herself, mate.”

“such a good girl,” niall hums, lips quirking up into a smile, pressing his head against yours, fingertips gliding up to your breasts, spiralling around and around, until he reaches your nipples, thumb and index finger closing in on them, giving a gentle tug. 

your chest rises along with him, chasing his fingers, his touch, right as louis’ fingers run through your folds, collecting some of your wetness and spreading it over niall’s cock.

you moan out, biting your lip, niall moaning as well, just a moment after you. with louis’ fingers dipping through your folds to gather your arousal, before wrapping his fist around niall’s cock, stroking over it to deposit your juices.

he watches as more and more of your arousal pools by your entrance, overflowing down to your bum with every clench, desperate to feel more than what louis’ given you so far. 

“fuckin christ, louis,” niall groans, hips bucking up, the wetness from your heat giving his cock such a delicious glide through louis’ hand, fist wrapped tightly around his member.

“feeling good ?” louis smirks, “haven’t even started, mate. honestly think i could slip ya right inside her. wasn’t kidding about not needing lube.”

“do it,” you whimper, “fuck, please do it. can’t take it anymore, lou.” 

biting his lip, louis’ eyes flick up to you. hearing the desperation in your voice, he really couldn’t keep himself from giving you what you so obviously needed. so he guides niall’s cock to your puckering hole, niall feeling the moment his tip makes contact with your ring of muscle, taking over and pressing his prick, slowly, deep inside you.

you feel your body melting back against niall, your entire being, instantly relaxed, muscles gone limp, finally, fucking finally, getting some form of relief. one that you’d been so deeply craving.

“fuck,” niall breathes against your cheek, “always feel so fuckin good, pet,” he groans, hips starting to move slowly, getting you used to the much larger intrusion in comparison to the plug.

you whimper, turning your face, kissing niall hard, teeth biting into his bottom lip when you realize louis’ tongue had darted out to take a long lick up your slit, hand reaching down to grip into louis’ hair.

“knew you’d taste sweet,” louis mutters, face burying itself in your cunt, licking, nipping, tasting. it was messy, he was messy, somehow always right where you didn’t even know you needed him. lapping at your entrance, sucking on your clit, nipping against your folds. he’d even spit right where niall’s cock would meet your hole, adding a bit of lubrication at the perfect times.

niall’s mind was reeling, feeling the warmth and glide of louis’ added wetness, and yet, he knew, his mind was nowhere near as far gone as yours. he could feel your body trembling, could feel your chest rising and falling quicker, your pants breathier and whinier.

“louis’ making you feel good, pretty girl ? like the way he eats your cunt ? ” niall coos, holding onto your hips, keeping you in place, with no choice but to take whatever they give you. “fuck, think both of you are dripping.”

he wasn’t wrong. your heat was constantly clenching over nothing, more and more bubbles of arousal leaking down to niall’s cock. an incredible amount of louis’ spit mixed in. he really was messy. and you loved every second of it.

“fuck, fuck,” you whimper, voice getting louder. you couldn’t remember the last time your skin felt so hot. so prickly. it felt like your body was burning from the inside out. “need- fuck, i need-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence, cut off by a loud moan when louis’ mouth wrapped around your clit, suctioning it into his mouth, flicking over it with his tongue.

niall, having been around you long enough, thankfully can read you better than you can yourself, eyes glued to your face, “christ, she’s gonna fuckin squirt, lou.”

as soon as the message reaches louis’ brain, he groans loudly, eyes rolling back, tongue lapping at your pussy harder, with more purpose. he was so entranced by you, his nose working over your clit, licking up every spot he can reach, almost suffocated in your folds.

with one hard thrust from niall, your ears started ringing, fingers and toes going numb, as you felt an explosion of tingling heat burst from your stomach, louis’ tongue working over you to collect as much of your squirt in his mouth as he could. the rest soaking his neck and chest, giving niall’s cock even more slickness to glide inside you.

louis pulls away from you slowly, his hands resting on your sides as he stands, rubbing soothingly into your skin. his gaze immediately locks with niall’s, catching his attention. louis taps his index gently against niall’s lip, nodding at him to open his mouth.

he does, without question, his mind a bit fuzzy from the tight clench of your inner walls, just moments ago, holding back his body’s scream for release. and as soon as his mouth is open, louis leans over brushing his nose against niall’s, depositing your squirt into his awaiting mouth.

niall groans at the taste of you, his eyes closing momentarily, looking back up at a smirking louis, “figured you’d want a taste too.”

“always. love tasting,” niall hums after swallowing, too enthralled in the events, and slight buzz from earlier, to realize how much he’s admitting to louis tonight.

and that. well, that just makes you jealous if you’re honest. a needy whine echoing from your throat.

louis looks over at you, eyebrow raised, niall jumping in to fill in for you, “you want a taste too, dont ya, petal ?” making you nod quickly.

with a smile tugging at his lips, louis reaches out to gently stroke your cheek, “filthy girl,” he coos, leaning in to kiss you.

the moment his tongue slips into your mouth, you suckle on him, getting as much of a taste as you can, humming happily, in appreciation.

as louis pulls away from your mouth, a line of spit connecting your lips together, eventually snapping as he gets further away, he flicks his eyes between the both of you, slightly out of breath, “fuck, you both look so fucked out.”

itching to feel what you both are, he taps his cock against your cunt, making you flinch on contact, a breathy whine puffing out of your lips, warming niall’s neck. and without any more of a warning to either of you, louis feeds his prick into you.

your jaw instantly goes slack, eyes rolling back, breath getting caught in your throat. it was so much. so much louis. so much niall. so much. so fucking much. all you could focus on was their touches, their groany pants, their cocks.

“louis-“ niall moans out, his grip into your waist digging deeper into your skin, nails nipping deliciously painfully. “f-fuck mate. so fucking tight.”

louis’ head drops to your shoulder, hands rubbing all over you, all over niall, christ he wasn’t sure anymore, he was feeling someone’s skin. he was all of a sudden incredibly overwhelmed. the incredible tight squeeze your cunt has on his dick, and fuck, he never thought hearing his friend moan out his name would sound so good, sound so arousing. 

regardless of how louis’ mind was on overdrive, his body took over, chasing that amazingly tingly feeling. he works up a slow rhythm, pummelling his cock deep into you, rolling over your sweet spot with each thrust.

“don’t stop,” you breathe, gasping for air. the feel of niall’s teeth on your neck and shoulder, louis tonguing over your chest and breasts, both of their hands tickling at your skin from time to time. “just- don’t fuckin stop.”

“can’t,” louis groans, nipping at you, “fuck, can’t stop, s’so good.” and it’s true. he can’t stop even if he tried. his body had completely taken over, feeling of pure ecstasy coursing through his blood. he’s not sure he’s ever been addicted to anything, but this just may be it. 

niall’s hand cards itself through louis’ hair, feeling every ridge of his friend’s cock through your thin walls, the head catching on niall’s tip with every thrust, making him tighten his grip, “feels so fuckin good louis.”

“fuck,” louis curses loudly, unable to help himself, as he looks up, his mouth lunging for niall’s, lips mashing together in a fight for dominance, needing niall to just shut up. he needed to focus on not cumming. but every fucking word that comes out of niall’s mouth brings him closer to the edge. and for some god forsaken reason, the best he could come up with at the moment was kiss the ever living hell out of him.

your eyes flick over to the scene before you, whimpering loudly, as louis’ thrusts had gotten harder since kissing niall, a mess of moans coming from right next to your ear. gripping onto louis’ hips, your body gives in, all senses on overdrive of moans and touches and fuck you never thought it’d turn you on so much to watch your boyfriend kissing your best friend.

your body goes rigid, back arching as much as it could with louis’ weight on you, squirting once again, your mind going blank, cumming harder than you think you ever have. 

“fuck, fuck, fucking hell,” louis groans loudly, teeth biting hard into niall’s lip, joining you over the edge, filling you up even more than you already were.

louis’ cum was so warm, so filling, your body was shivering with every spurt of white painting your walls. 

niall’s quick to grip into louis’ ass, holding his hips flush with yours, “christ, can feel ya cumming, lou.” 

louis trembles, looking up at both of you, his hair mussed up, sweat drenching his forehead, eyes blinking, as they fight to stay open. niall smiles softly at him, remembering exactly how it felt for him last time, “her cunt feel good, mate ?”

“fuck,” louis breathes, nodding, fingertips gently petting your stomach, “amongst other things,” he admits, answering niall’s question, adding, “fuckin good girl you are.”

you sigh, contently, but still on overdrive, your face tucked into niall’s neck, shuddering around every breath. your legs were fighting with niall’s to try and shut, everything just feeling too much, too much, too much.

niall gently runs his fingernails over your inner thighs, in an attempt to calm you, murmuring against your ear, “gotta let me finish me, pet. hmm, be a good girl for me ?”

“have you seriously not cum yet ?” louis asks incredulously. “how are you holding out ?”

“he can’t cum when he drinks,” you fill in, your mind swimming, mouthing against niall’s neck, trying to relax your body.

“gonna pull out,” louis hums, his cock growing increasingly sensitive the longer he stays inside you. regardless of the fact that neither of them were moving, your pussy was still spasming from the orgasm moments ago, and louis just couldn’t take it anymore. 

slowly, incredibly slowly, so as not to overwork either of you, louis pulls out, eyes fixed on your centre. he bites his lip, watching you clench over nothing, some of his cum bubbling out of you.

without much of a second thought, louis curls two fingers completely, pressing them inside you as a makeshift plug, keeping his orgasm stuffed inside you.

niall’s jaw instantly goes slack, his hand darting out to grip into louis’ forearm, “fuck are you doing ?”

“what ?” louis asks confused, eyebrows furrowed.

“fuckin-“ niall groans, hips rolling into you hard, cock seethed deep inside you. “so much pressure, fuck,” he grits, trying and failing to push louis’ hand away from you.

and then it clicks for louis. niall can feel his knuckles. with every thrust, the underside of niall’s cock glides hard into his bones. 

louis smirks at him, “still think you can’t cum when you’re drunk ?”

niall’s eyes roll back, a whine working it’s way from the depths of his chest, his other hand, the one that isn’t currently crushing louis’ arm, wraps itself across your body, bruising your hip, holding you in place, as he starts to fuck into you at a blinding pace.

you moan loudly, reaching for louis, needing a way to anchor yourself, ground yourself, for a moment. pulling him into you, you attempt to kiss him, but with your lips trembling and jaw randomly falling, louis found himself more often than not, kissing over your lips, cheeks, chin.

“make him cum, louis,” you whimper shakily, “please make him cum.”

niall moans, hearing your request, his cock diving into you one, two, three more times before filling you up as well. he pants heavily, a small chesty groan with every spurt of his high.  and he’ll just definitely go on pretending that the thought of his best friend making him cum isn’t what ended up breaking his “no cumming while drunk” streak.

you turn your face into niall’s neck, whimpering through your harsh breathing, a shiver running through your body.

you feel niall’s arms wrap around your body, trying to keep you warm, murmuring softly, “lemme pull you, sweet girl.” and a moment later, you feel his cock falling out of you, making you whimper louder, feeling his cum dribbling out of you, clenching over nothing for the first time since the plug went into you, however many hours ago now.

louis’ got his eyes glued on your heat, fingers pulling out of you to catch the dripping of niall’s high. you shudder, completely overstimulated, body wiggling in a begging attempt to finally close your legs.

“don’t let her,” louis mutters, making niall look down at what could possibly have him so enthralled.

“what are you doing ?” niall asks, “can’t keep going lou, she needs a break.”

but louis’ quick to shake his head, scooping as much of niall’s cum as he can, pressing it into your gaping cunt, his fingers mixing up all of your orgasms and arousal together. “s’fine, m’done. said you loved to taste,” he explains as his index dips inside you, scooping some of the mixture and feeding it past niall’s lips.

niall groans, eyes fluttering shut, tongue wrapping around louis’ finger, sucking back the musky, salty, sweet mix of all three of you. but as louis tries to pull his finger away, niall sucks it back into his mouth, getting a taste at louis’ skin while he’s at it.

and louis decides he’s going to go on pretending that the image of his best friend’s mouth on his prick isn’t making him stiffen, as he pulls his finger away for real, hearing the pop of niall’s lips and watching the string of his spit break the further louis’ finger gets.

with two fingers this time, he dips back into you, scooping out some more, his other hand reaching up to cup your jaw, thumb tapping on your lip, “since i’ve learned that you’ll start whining if i don’t share,” he teases, giggling quietly. your lips part, sticking your tongue out, louis wiping his fingers on your awaiting tongue, pressing it back into your mouth, fingers along with it.

you suck back the sticky liquid, cleaning off his fingers completely, your tongue rolling around them, louis pulling his digits away with another pop.

“again,” niall asks, slight desperation in his tone, as louis keeps feeding you both, taking turns until there’s almost none left.

“can i have a taste now ?” he chuckles, “greedy little fuckers, you.” and from one moment, louis’ tutting at both you and niall, the next moment, he’s dipping down low, tongue delving into you to get the last taste. 

louis makes quick work, not wanting to cause you any pain, kissing your clit softly, before pulling away, hands rubbing over your tummy, “such a fuckin good girl.”

niall adding against your ear, “happy birthday, petal.”

Part 3

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Series Masterlist

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tags : @cc-horan