#It's like I have stepped into uncharted waters-

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x fem!reader

contents: fluff and sweetness. pre-relationship. more than friends but less than lovers trope. many shared little moments with sylus that make it special 🤍

⭒ It becomes second nature for Sylus to carry your purse on his shoulder when you both have an outing and he follows you around like an obedient puppy as you shop from one clothing rack to another. Sometimes he gets distracted on his phone whilst glancing up at you every now and then that he doesn’t realize you both are in the men’s section. A rather adorable pondering expression on your face as you hold a shirt up to his chest. “I think this would suit you nicely.” No second opinion is needed and he collects the item from you for purchasing because if you say so then he believes it.

⭒ When Sylus somehow finds himself a passenger because maybe you wanted to test drive his car that easily has 1600hp—he’s thoroughly amused as you feel out the dynamics of the vehicle. More so when you accidentally step on the brakes a little too hard, as you are unfamiliar with the sensitivity of the pedals. In a show of panic, you throw your arm across his chest to brace for the sudden jolt which earns you a teasing remark followed by a playful quip back at him. However, there’s a subtle smile on his lips as you continue down the road because your first instinct is to save him.

⭒ You and Sylus have a casual routine with Friday nights being reserved for the both of you. When you’d normally grab takeout during the busy working week, you opt for a simple home-cooked meal to unwind and enjoy a leisurely evening. Before you can even register the force of habit, you’re pulling out two plates to set the table and like clockwork Sylus appears at your apartment door. A little bag of your favorite pastries to finish off the meal with something sweet because he learned you couldn’t go without it. Funny how he knows these things about you, and how you knew to grab his favorite cheese pancakes on the way home for appetizers.

⭒ The crow twins deliver you something on behalf of Sylus and he receives a little treat from you every other time this happens. You’d pack a small box of savory/sweet baked goods that you made earlier in the day to return his thoughtful gesture. However, at your words Luke and Kieran assumed a surprise wouldn’t be missed if their boss doesn’t know about it. Fast forward to those two apologetic boys surrounded by a swirling red and kneeling before their boss under his menacing stare because those cream puffs should've been handed to him directly. After hearing about this, you made certain to pack enough for the three of them next time.

⭒ Napping at someone else’s home other than your own feels like uncharted territory because sleeping anywhere but your warm and familiar bed places you in a vulnerable position. Even though Sylus has given you permission to make yourself comfortable at his estate several times, the safest place you feel is beside him with your head lulling against his shoulder when you’re running on a few hours of sleep. He’s the picture of comfort with a fleeting kiss to your head and draping his coat over you, and he may even find his cheek pressed against you to catch some shut-eye himself.

⭒ There’s something to be said about Sylus being led by you—he secretly loves surrendering himself to your every whim and that includes you tugging him by the hand and steering him toward the direction of cute ducklings paddle their way into the waters with a splash. Your elated reaction and innocent sparkle is all very endearing to him and he takes a moment to savor it before shifting his gaze to the small animals. “Now, aren’t you glad we decided to have this stroll after all?” You offer him your response and his heart warms when he realizes that you still haven’t let go of his hand.

[fgfirenation]

WHERE'S NORSE MYTHOLOGY-

[nxsturn]

or nah ( c.s )

warnings: smut (rough sex, praising, choking, lowkey talking you through it, a little bit of begging).

you were sitting on the edge of his bed, legs crossed, tracing the rim of your glass with your finger. the light from the window filtered in, soft and golden, casting a warm glow over the room. you were both quiet, but there was a tension in the air, thick and unspoken.

Chris had been unusually distant tonight. it wasn’t like him. he usually had that easygoing energy, the kind that made you feel at ease. but tonight, there was a certain weight in his gaze, as if he was trying to decide whether to say something or let it go.

finally, he broke the silence. "so.. where do you think this is going?" his voice was casual, but there was an edge to it, something uncertain.

you looked at him, your heart skipping a beat. you didn’t know how to answer right away. the question lingered, hanging in the air like an invitation to step into uncharted territory.

you both had been having fun together —laughing, kissing, exploring each other, but it had always been just that: fun. no commitments, no labels. just two people sharing moments. but now, it felt like he was testing the waters, like he wanted to know if you were on the same page.

"what do you mean?" you asked, even though you knew exactly what he was asking.

he ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to figure out how to phrase it. "i guess.. i’m wondering if you’re down for something more.. casual. no strings attached, you know? just us, doing this, having fun. nothing complicated,”

there it was. the question you’d been avoiding, the one that had been lingering in the back of your mind every time you saw him. a part of you had wondered if he was looking for something more serious, but another part of you had hoped it would stay light, easy, carefree.

you looked away for a moment, taking a breath. the truth was, you liked him, more than you wanted to admit. but you also liked the freedom of it all. you liked not having to answer to anyone, to just be in the moment without worrying about expectations.

"what are you saying?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant even though your pulse quickened.

"i guess i’m asking if you’re okay with keeping it like this," he said, voice soft but clear. "no drama,"

you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the little crack in his otherwise confident demeanor. it was almost like he was waiting for you to confirm what you both already knew: that this was all there was, and neither of you wanted to mess it up by making it something more.

you took a slow sip of your drink, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat, trying to steady yourself. you could say yes. you could agree to keep things casual, keep it light, keep it fun. it was tempting. easier. but deep down, you knew it wasn’t just about what was easy. it was about what you really wanted.

you met his gaze. "and what if one of us starts wanting more?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he looked at you, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. "then we talk about it," he said, his voice steady now. "but i’m not looking to complicate things. i just want to know if you’re cool with keeping it.. easy. no pressure,"

you could feel the weight of his words, the invitation in them. you could tell he wasn’t asking for anything more than what you were both already doing. but somehow, it felt like this moment, this question, was more significant than any kiss or laugh you’d shared before.

you sat there for a moment, considering. there was no right answer, no clear direction. everything about this felt uncertain, but maybe that was what made it so thrilling. you had no idea where it would go. but in that moment, you weren’t all that sure you really cared.

finally, you smiled, leaning back on your hands. "i think i’m down for that," you said, your voice steady now, a little playful. "just.. fun,”

Chris’ smile matched yours, and for the first time that night, the tension seemed to lift. he leaned forward, closing the space between you, his lips brushing against yours, soft and slow.

you both move closer, hands finding familiar places on each other's bodies. the air gets warmer, charged with anticipation. he runs his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer while you trace patterns on his chest. there's no rush, just exploration and familiarity.

his hands slide down to your hips, lifting you effortlessly to sit on the counter. he steps between your legs, pulling you to the edge, pressing you against his growing bulge. one hand stays on your hip, the other moves up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your lips.

his eyes locked with yours as he reaches behind your back, unhooking your bralette with one hand. he tosses it aside, his gaze never leaving yours. he reaches up to run his fingers through your hair, fanning it out over your shoulders.

you watch as he bites his lower lip slightly, a sign of his own growing desire. his other hand trails down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

his fingers hook into the waistband of your sweatpants, slowly pulling them down, along with your panties, while you lift your hips to help him. once they're gone, he catches your mouth in another intense kiss, his hands roaming your exposed skin. you can feel how much he wants you, pressing against his camo jeans.

he breaks the kiss to pull his shirt over his head before unbuttoning his jeans to pull them down — along with his boxers, letting them hit the floor with a soft thud. he steps back between your legs, his length pressing against your center. he looks at you intensely, asking for permission without words.

you part your legs wider, inviting him closer. he smiles mischievously, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

he reaches down, lining himself up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, you gasp softly at the sudden fullness, your hands gripping his biceps.

once he's fully inside you, he pauses, letting you adjust to him. he leans forward, his lips brushing against yours as he starts to move, pulling out slowly before pushing back in. he sets a steady, slow pace, savoring the feeling of being inside you.

you crane your neck to watch as he slides in and out of you, a soft moan escaping your lips. the sight of him disappearing inside you makes your breath catch. he notices you watching and picks up the pace slightly, one hand moving between your legs to circle your sensitive spot.

you can see the muscles in his arms tensing as he holds himself above you. you mewl, arching your back to take him deeper, your nails digging into his arms.

his hips roll forward, hitting a spot inside you that makes you whimper. he smirks, doing it again and again, his other hand coming up to cup your breast. "you like that?" he growls, his voice dropping even lower.

you lick your lower lip, nodding as he hits that spot over and over again. "please.." you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for. more? faster? harder?

"tell me what you want," he whispers against your neck, gently biting down before soothing the sting with his tongue. his pace quickens slightly but you can tell he wants to hear you say it.

you're breathless, trying to form the words. "harder.." you manage to get out between gasps. he groans against your neck, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor.

he wraps one hand around your throat, applying gentle pressure as he continues to thrust into you. his other hand grips your hip, pulling you onto him with each powerful movement. his eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing over your pulse point.

you whimper, feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible. your hands clutch at his chest, feeling the muscles rippling beneath your fingers. "you're so..." he trails off, his hand around your throat tightening slightly as he buries himself deep inside you.

"perfect," he finally finishes, his voice strained. he begins to move faster, his hips slamming against yours with each thrust. the hand around your throat tightens slightly, cutting off your air supply slightly as he chases his release.

you're seeing stars, your vision blurring at the edges as he fucks you with reckless abandon. his hand on your throat is the only thing keeping you grounded as he pistons in and out of you. you feel him throbbing inside you.

he hears your choked groan, feeling you tighten around him like a vice. he growls, his hand around your throat tightening even more as he buries his face between your neck and shoulder once more.

"fuck..." he pants heavily, slowing his pace but not stopping completely. his forehead presses against yours, eyes locked onto yours with intense desire. "you take me so perfectly," he whispers, admiration clear in his voice. the hand around your neck moves to cup your face tenderly.

as he speaks, he thrusts into you again, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. you feel yourself releasing around him, clenching around him like a vice as you let out a muffled whimper. "good girl,"

his movements become more deliberate, drawing out your pleasure as long as possible. "that's it, beautiful," he breathes against your ear, his body tensing, "cum all over me.."

©nxsturn

based off the song by ty dolla $ign.

[valkyrieromanoff]

Bad ideia right?: master!anakin x padawan!reader

synopsis: Sharing a room with your master didn’t seem like a bad idea, right? But when Anakin steps out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel hanging on his hips, things quickly spiral into uncharted territory. As the tension between you thickens and lines between duty and desire blur, you’re left questioning whether this might have been a very bad idea after all.

warning: master x padawan trope (sorry, power imbalance), inexperienced reader, dominant Anakin, handjob, practically only smut, almost no plot.

words: 1.8k

a/n: So... this idea came to my mind randomly with an edit of some character by Hayden Christensen, and, since I'm obsessed with Anakin, obviously, he was the chosen one. Anyway, I hope you like it, and thanks for the comments on James Kelly's oneshot, I'm working on a sequel. Kisses💖

𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏' 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂, 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕?

𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏' 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒕, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆

Sharing a room with your master hadn't seemed like a bad idea earlier in the night. After all, just hours ago, the two of you were shivering outside the small hotel, waiting for the Council to deliberate on whether it was even possible to send a rescue. The cold had bit through your robes, and with the Council's decision delayed, the promise of warmth had seemed worth the minor inconvenience.

Anakin, somehow, had managed to scrounge up a few credits, not enough for separate quarters but just enough to rent a single room. The thought of sharing didn’t raise any concerns, even though there was only one bed. It wasn’t all that different from the countless nights spent camping during missions, except that Master Kenobi or Rex usually are close by.

But now, sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped only in a loose shirt that barely skimmed your thighs, you were beginning to rethink that assumption. Your Jedi robes were draped neatly over a chair in the corner. You hadn’t packed any extra clothes, not imagining you'd need them, and as you sat there, nerves started to flutter in your chest.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts, and your heart stuttered in your chest. Anakin stepped out, a wave of warm, humid air spilling into the room with him. His sandy, wavy hair was damp, droplets of water trailing lazily down his bare chest, across the defined muscles of his abdomen. Your eyes followed one particular droplet as it slid down his abs before disappearing into the white towel wrapped low around his waist.

Suddenly, sharing a room didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away. Anakin, always so sure of himself, caught your stare and flashed you a confident grin —one that was all too knowing. There was a flicker of something playful in his eyes, a dangerous spark that sent your pulse racing. He shook his head lightly, sending more water droplets flying, and the gesture felt so casual, so effortless, yet it left you completely unraveled.

"You like what you see?" Anakin’s voice was low, teasing, as he raised a brow in amusement. His tone, laced with flirtation, made your skin heat despite the chill that lingered in the air.

Your mind screamed at you to look away, to remember the boundaries between master and padawan, but your body betrayed you, rooted in place by the tension that now filled the small room.

For a split second, you saw hesitation in his eyes —just a flicker, like maybe even he knew he was crossing a line. But then, as if driven by some reckless need to push further, to test the limits, the towel slipped. It fell silently to the floor, landing in a small patch of undried paint that clung to the fabric.

Your breath hitched. The tension in the air thickened, the room suddenly feeling far too small, too intimate. Anakin stood there, unabashed, watching your reaction with that same infuriatingly smug look. Yet beneath that confidence, you could sense something else simmering —an unspoken desire, a question hanging in the air between you.

This definitely wasn’t a good idea anymore.

Your eyes widened, a sharp jolt of surprise and confusion surging through you. Never—not in your wildest dreams—had you imagined being in a situation like this. Anakin, your master, standing before you so naked in his glory. It felt surreal, as if reality had warped around you in that instant.

Instinctively, your gaze dropped lower before you could stop yourself, a glimpse of his half-hard cock. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt, and the heat flooding your face was immediate. A fiery blush crept up your cheeks, burning hot with a mix of shock and embarrassment.

Your hands flew to your face, palms pressing over your eyes as if you could erase the image, your heart hammering in your chest. "Force, what is happening?" you thought, breath catching in your throat. Your mind was a mess, struggling to reconcile the absurdity of the moment with the unwavering discipline you'd spent years mastering.

Behind your hands, you heard Anakin chuckle softly, his amusement only making the situation feel even more unreal. And still, beneath the embarrassment, there was something else stirring —something dangerous, something you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

“It’s okay, padawan. You can look.” he whispered, his voice soft. He wanted you to know that you could trust him, that you didn't need to feel ashamed or shy, he was your master after all.

You didn’t move. This isn’t right. It’s not the Jedi way, you reminded yourself, mentally reciting the Jedi Code you’d been trained to memorize, the one you’d sworn never to break. The words echoed in your mind like a lifeline, an anchor to the discipline you’d spent years being taught. But as the silence stretched between you, another part of you —one far more rebellious, one undeniably influenced by your master— began to stir. It grew louder, more insistent, gnawing at the edges of your resolve.

Anakin was waiting. You didn’t need to see him to know it. He was smiling—delighting in your hesitation, in the battle waging inside you. You could feel it, the way he reveled in your inner conflict, the tension thickening the air like an invisible thread pulling you toward him.

Your breath caught in your throat as you slowly lowered your hands from your face, fingers trembling just slightly. Your cheeks were still flushed, the heat of embarrassment lingering, but something else was there now too. Something that made your heart race, not out of shame but out of curiosity —of temptation.

Your eyelids fluttered shyly, hesitant, before you finally dared to meet his gaze. The moment your eyes locked with his, the smirk on his face widened ever so slightly, his confidence unshaken, even amused. He knew. He could see the crack in your defenses, the sliver of doubt that had taken root in your mind.

And the worst part? A part of you didn’t want to stop it.

“This is for you,” Anakin said, holding his hardened cock with his flesh hand, his voice low and husky, each word dripping with unspoken desire. There was a tension in his tone, thick and electric, the kind that made the air between you feel charged. His gaze was locked on yours, darkened with the intensity of his emotions, and you could feel the weight of it —how deeply you affected him, how you turned him on.

He wanted you to know. To feel the way the mere sight of your flushed face stirred something primal within him, something dangerous and raw. It was as if a storm had begun to brew in his chest, the pull of his desire rising like a tide, ready to drown both of you. The restraint he usually held was crumbling, like a volcano on the verge of eruption, and the way his breath hitched, just slightly, told you that it was taking everything he had to hold it back.

And yet, he didn’t. His words, his gaze—they were a confession in themselves. This was all for you.

The intensity of Anakin's gaze left you breathless, your body trembling in anticipation. You could feel your own arousal building, the heat between your legs growing more insistent with each passing second.

He waited for your response, his eyes never leaving yours, as if daring you to take what he offered. Your hand trembled slightly as it reached out to meet him, your fingers brushing against his hardened length.

He let out a soft groan, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. The sound felt a shiver down your spine, the power you held over him a heady intoxication. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling the heat radiating from his cock, the veins that pulsed beneath your touch.

He watched you, your hands tentatively exploring him, your eyes wide and curious. He loved the way you looked, the way you felt. He wanted to teach you everything, to show you how to please him, how to make him feel good.

Anakin's fingers intertwined with yours, his hand covering yours as he showed you the rhythm he preferred. "Like this, Padawan," he whispered, his voice a soothing murmur against your ear. "Gentle, but firm."

You followed his lead, your hands moving in unison, your strokes slow and deliberate. Anakin's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as you began to find your rhythm.

"It's different," you admitted shyly, your fingers still slightly clumsy around his hardened cock. You bit your lower lip, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Am I doin’ right?" you asked nervously, your gaze meeting his.

Anakin's lips curved into a smile, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. "Yes, padawan, you're doing just fine," he reassured you, his voice thick with desire. "Just like that.

You continued to stroke him, your movements more confident now. Anakin's body began to tense, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “faster” he whispered, his voice urgent.

He could feel his orgasm building, could feel his body tensing. Anakin watched you, your eyes wide and trusting, your hands moving faster, your fingers slick with his pre-cum. He loved the way you looked, the way you felt. He loved the way you made him feel.

"Oh, Padawan," he moaned, his voice a low, guttural sound. "I'm going to come."

With a shuddering breath, he did,  his orgasm hitting him like a freight train.  He came in your hand, his seed spilling hot and thick over your fingers, his body shuddering as the waves of pleasure washed over him.

Anakin leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as his release ebbed away. “Good girl, padawan” he whispered, his breathing gradually returning to normal. “You did so good.” he said, his voice soft.

You stood there, bathed in the lingering warmth of the moment, your eyes flickering to your hands. Your fingers were coated in the thick, milky substance of his release. "It's sticky," you murmured, your voice tinged with innocent curiosity as you stared at your fingers. You shyly pulled them away, a thin line of cum stretching between two delicate fingers.

Anakin watched you, his eyes dark with desire and a hint of mischief. "Let me help you with that," he said, his voice low and husky. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "It's only fair that you clean it up, Padawan."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise. "Clean it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Anakin nodded, his thumb brushing against your fingers, smearing the cum slightly. "With your mouth," he suggested, his gauze locked onto yours. "It's only fitting, don't you think?"

You hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. But the thought of tasting him, of pleasing him in this intimate way, feels a shiver of anticipation down your spine. 

Slowly, you brought your fingers to your mouth, your tongue darting out to lick the sticky substance from your skin. Anakin's breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You did so good, padawan. I'm so proud of you.” he whispered, his voice soft. 

[rayhalloffame]

Reblogged a post about how there are not enough fics of Patrick crying over reader and I couldn’t agree more. Here’s a college!patrick au, considering making a part 2 but you all let me know!

…………

It takes a lot for Patrick to reach the point of tears but when they do prick his eyes you’re stunned. He’s stood across the room from you, looking as if his heart has just been ripped from his chest. Which is odd considering the shouting match you’d just finished.

He’d shown up to your college apartment unannounced following your commitment to ignoring his texts. When you see him through the peephole you’re considering pretending no one is home, but you know he would make a scene and your neighbors would complain in the morning. Once unlocked, he pushes through your front door in seconds, storming in and whipping around to face you just as the door shuts behind you.

“What the fuck is your problem,” he demands, getting in your face. You roll your eyes and side step him to walk toward your living room. You can hear him approaching before you feel his hand grasp your wrist and wheel you around to face him.

“Pat, I’m not doing this.” You remove your arm from his grip and take a few steps backwards. The atmosphere is icy but he’s clearly got fire running through him, you can see it in the way he clenches his fists at his side. You cross your arms firmly over your chest. “I told you what I wanted. It’s not what you want. So that’s that.” Despite your assured tone your heart races against your ribs.

“I can’t give you what you want,” he insists, sounding exasperated. His hand combs roughly through his hair then slides down his face. “I can’t. But I want you. We can still have this.”

Your “no” is immediate. You take a deep breath. “I don’t want to be one of your girls, Patrick. I want to be your girl. You can’t fuck me and hold me after, and then go make out with some sorority chick the same weekend. I don’t deserve that.” Your voice is rising octaves and you swallow hard in efforts to keep your temper at bay.

He cracks a smile for the first time. “But the sex is really good, isn’t it?”

You glare at him. “Fuck you. Seriously.” You brush past him to go open your front door with intentions on kicking him out.

Your hand is reaching to turn the knob when he shouts at your back, “What do you want from me, huh?” He’s angry again. You turn back to face him. “A white picket fence? Two dogs and three kids?” His head tilts to the side mockingly. You seethe from where you stand. “We’re so young! Why can’t you just have a good time?”

“Because I want more!” You gesticulate fiercely with your hands. “I’m not asking you to marry me, Patrick. I’m just tired of feeling like someone you couldn’t give two shits about!” You’re flushed. Your announcement makes the air go dead.

And that’s how you ended up here, with what was at first a tick of his jaw, an extra bat of his eyelashes, but quickly turned into his face crumpling devastatingly. You suddenly want to take it all back, tell him that he can have you however he wants. But you can’t.

You do take a few cautious steps towards him, sighing his name. He hangs his head, brings his hands up to shield his face from view. He doesn’t retaliate when you bring your hands up to grasp his wrists, smoothing down the length of his forearms.

And then he sobs. It comes deep from his chest and you furrow your brow in concern. You’ve never even seen his eyes water in the year you’ve known him, so this is uncharted territory. You call his name again, gently, give his arms a slight tug to reveal his face. His cheeks are wet and blotchy already.

You pull him to the couch with you, because despite everything, you hold a big space in your heart for Patrick. You sit sideways against the arm to face him, one leg tucked under you. He’s apologizing for anything and everything, pleading with you but you’re not sure what for.

You wipe his face with the palm of your hand. “It’s okay,” you insist. He’s barely looking at you, sniffling pathetically. You straighten your leg against the back of the couch to make space for him between your thighs, pulling at his shoulder so he falls to your chest. He clutches at your body, his own wracking with the force of his cries. Neither of you says a word for a long time. You scratch your fingers through his hair and down his neck, press kisses to the crown of his head until he’s ready.

“You’ll find someone better,” is what he says when he breaks the silence. You freeze. He continues. “You think you want me now, but you’ll find someone better. You deserve to.” He looks up at you with puffy eyes and a red nose. “But you’re my best girl. I can’t have you and lose you.”

Your heart breaks. He is so charming and so full of himself that the insecurity is easy to miss. This is your Patrick, who challenges you to be the best version of yourself, takes care of you when you’ve had too much to drink, wipes your tears after you force him to watch a romcom, fucks you better than anyone ever has.

“You’re so stupid,” you say. “You’re who I want. I don’t know why you can’t see how great you are.” You lean down to press a kiss between his eyes. You rub your thumb back and forth at the nape of his neck. His migration up your body happens quickly, and so does the kiss he presses to your mouth. It’s easy enough for him to get his tongue involved, his big hand holding you close by the back of your neck.

You break the contact before things get carried away, remind him that your feelings on the situation haven’t changed. If he doesn’t want to close things off then you can’t move forward. “Only you,” he agrees, head nodding. He repeats it over and over and over while he drags his lips across your jaw until he meets your mouth again in a sloppy kiss. You’re about the have the best makeup sex of your life, you can already tell.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Fumble on the Play

Prompt Day 12: Stargazing | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Stargazing, A Wooing Was Attempted, Baby Steps, Getting on the Same Page

"It's so cold," Eddie whines, and Steve throws the blanket towards him. It bounces off his chest and down into the snow.

"Oooh, fumble on the play," Steve crows, and Eddie looks less than thrilled. Steve rolls his eyes, "Just go along with it. Look around! Doesn't it feel like there are just more stars in the sky in the winter? Yes, it does. So, suck it up buttercup," Steve stresses, and Eddie begrudgingly picks up the fallen blanket.

And then he shakes it out, probably more violently than he really needs to.

Steve gives him the look, the one he's practiced on the kids, because he finds that it translates to Eddie pretty goddamn well more often than not.

"It's the cold air," Eddie mutters, being a grouchy ass.

"What?" Steve asks.

"It's the cold air. Makes the chance of haziness in the sky less likely, because there's less moisture in the air. So. Yes. It's the cold air that's letting you see all those stars."

"You're making that up," Steve says.

"Nope. It's science. Read it in Newsweek."

"You read Newsweek?" Steve questions, unsure if he should believe this. His default is no, no he should not. Eddie likes to make shit up for fun, just to see how Steve reacts.

This feels like that.

"Yes, Harrington. I can read," Eddie says, and he doesn't seem like he's pulling Steve's leg. He looks annoyed.

"Oh," Steve says, and shifts his weight to his other foot. "That's cool."

"Sure, cool. Just like the night air out here in the middle of nowhere," Eddie snaps, and Steve decides this was a mistake. A big one. Eddie's hating this. 

Hating being in the cold, hating being stuck with Steve.

Steve slumps his shoulders, defeated, "We can go."

"We're already out here, Harrington, might as well stay and freeze our balls off," Eddie grumbles.

"Not if you're hating it."

"I just don't get why you drug me out here. Isn't there some girl you could have conned into freezing her tits off instead?"

Steve turns, and tries to yank the blanket out of Eddie's hands, but Eddie has suddenly developed Kung Fu Grip, like he's a goddamn G.I. Joe. 

"What the hell, Harrington?" Eddie says, yanking back. 

"Let's just go, this was stupid!" Steve yells, and Eddie's eyebrows disappear, shooting up beneath his bangs.

"Steve," Eddie says, softer this time, using his first name, which makes this worse. He didn't even know he could be this fucking embarrassed. Robin says he has no shame. Clearly, he does. This was a big swing and a miss.

"I just want to go home. It's cold. I'm tired. You hate this. Just. Let go of the blanket," Steve says, tugging more gently this time, and Eddie does relent and lets it fall from his grasp. 

Steve throws the blanket into the trunk of his car, and slams it closed.

Eddie is standing there with his head tilted towards the sky. Steve watches him.

"It is pretty out here. Cold, but pretty," Eddie says, and Steve nods. It is. That's why he brought him here in the first goddamn place. Skull Rock is fucking tainted. If Eddie thinks this was a dumb idea, he'd have really been annoyed by that.

Remember when you had to run for your life and you hid here? Well, wanna makeout here now?

No way.

Steve shouldn't have brought him anywhere at all with ulterior motives. He absolutely misjudged Eddie's interest in doing this with him at all, "It's pretty. C'mon. Let's get back to town."

It's harder than it is with a girl. Uncharted waters. He really thought Eddie was sending signals, but apparently Steve's just an idiot and read into nothing. 

Eddie climbs in the passenger seat, and Steve slides across the now cold leather, putting the key in the ignition. He turns it over, and thinks this almost over, thank god.

It's not, apparently.

"Was this a date?" Eddie asks, voice going high and pointed.

"No!" Steve snaps, kneejerk, and mortified that he bungled this so bad that Eddie had to even fucking ask.

"Oh. Okay," Eddie answers, seemingly crestfallen instead of relieved. Steve sighs. It makes no fucking sense. 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut. He can't get a read on Eddie, never has been able to, not really.

"I wasn't implying anything," Eddie says, too quietly. "About you. Or me." 

Oh. 

Oh. 

"Of course," Steve says, "But if you were. That'd be okay."

Eddie laughs, "Not bloody likely." 

Steve wants to be offended. Wants to tell Eddie he's cool. That he loves Robin, and all that she is. But he can't. 

"It's stupid. I'm stupid, whatever this was, or wasn't."

"Steve." 

"It was," Steve admits. 

Eddie reaches over and squeezes Steve's knee, "You're not stupid. This wasn't stupid, either. I just didn't connect the dots until it was too late."

"Sorry," Steve says. 

"Don't be sorry," Eddie says, "Just. Tell me what you're thinking."

Steve thumps his head back against the headrest, "I'm thinking that I'm a fool."

"Harrington."

"I like you. But I don't really know how to do anything with that. Obviously."

Eddie slides his hand up to Steve's arm, "Same book now, same page, even."

And Steve looks over at him, wondering if maybe tonight isn't a total lost cause? Maybe he can field his own rebound and lay it up. Second time's the charm. A do-over.

"I'm thinking it's not too late," Steve says at the same time over Eddie asking:

"Wanna look at some stars?" 

Steve nods, expecting Eddie to get back out of the car, but instead he leans over the console, elbow landing on Steve's knee, motioning for Steve to look out the window and upwards.

Steve does.

The sky is full of stars.

He doesn't know where to put his hands, so he squeezes Eddie's shoulder through his coat, as they stargaze from the warmth of the car.

Steve looks at the stars, then at Eddie.

Both, equally beautiful.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🌟

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 3- Crossed A Few Lines | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.7k

Your heart raced at his reply. You were both mildly beating around the bush, but there was no denying the pull between you. A shiver ran down your spine, your skin tingling with anticipation. You smiled to yourself, your fingers already flying across the keyboard in response. You knew you were pushing boundaries, stepping into uncharted territory, but a part of you was thrilled by it. You had always wanted to see how far you could go with Trent, and now you were finding out.

The seconds that passed after you sent the message felt like hours. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, loud and fast, and your entire body was alight with anticipation. You didn’t know what would happen next, but you were ready to find out, whatever it might be. He was sitting downstairs in the cinema room with your brother and the boys, trying to keep it together. But after reading that text, there was no staying focused on the movie. He excused himself, saying he wanted a glass of water, but instead, he found himself sneaking upstairs, toward your room. His mind was racing, his pulse thumping in his ears. You heard a soft footstep outside your door and your breath caught in your throat. He knocked lightly but pushed the door open before you had a chance to respond.  The doorknob turned slowly and your body tensed with anticipation. Trent stepped into the room, a figure in the dim light, your eyes adjusting to you two alone in your bedroom, taking in his athletic frame and handsome face. This wasn't the first time he'd been in your room, but it was the first time he'd seen you like this-laid out on your bed, bralette barely holding you in. laying there ready for him. His breath caught in his throat. 

"What you doing sending me pictures like that?" Trent's voice was low, but you couldn't read whether he was mad or something else entirely. You shifted slightly, suddenly a bit nervous.

"You didn't have to come up," you said, trying to gauge his reaction. Was he angry? Your heart pounded in your chest, waiting for his next move.

"That's not what I said," he replied, stepping closer, eyes darkening. "I'm down there with your brother and our mates, trying not to think about your tits." His voice was rough, and his eyes were lit with something you hadn't seen before. You smirked, knowing you had him. 

"Do you like them?" you asked coyly, cupping them and pulling your bralette down a little lower to reveal just about everything you could without being completely exposed. You couldn’t risk that, what if he rejected you again. Trent chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You're fucking dangerous. Where did this confidence come from?" He asked you with a dangerously handsome smile. You sat up slightly, your smirk deepening. 

"I've always been like this." You cooed seductively but you couldn’t hold back a slight giggle. 

"Nah," he said, stepping even closer. "You've never moved like this before."

"I'd never kissed you before," you pointed out.

"That good, huh?" he teased, clearly loving this back-and-forth. You tilted your head, your eyes locked with his.

"I could ask you the same thing. You're here, aren't you?" Trent laughed softly, the tension between you now thick enough to cut with a knife. He knew the moment he walked into that room, there was no turning back. You were desperate to feel his touch. He padded across the room and climbed onto your bed, and it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. His movements were confident and purposeful. Trent was in your bed! You felt like you were about to black out.  

“C’mere.” He commanded you and you shifted, reaching your arm out towards him grabbing the back of his neck as he positioned himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel the hardness of his cock against your thigh. His lips found yours in a hungry kiss, and you moaned into his mouth, your hands gripping his hair as you pulled him closer. Trent's kiss was demanding, possessive, and you loved the way he took control. His tongue teased yours. It was like you could taste the sweetness of the moment you’d longed for. His hands roamed your body, caressing your boobs, your stomach, and thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your nipples pebbled against the thin fabric of your bralette, you arched your back, offering yourself to him. Breaking the kiss, Trent trailed his lips along your jaw and down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He nibbled on your ear, whispering how much he wanted you, and you moaned in response, your body throbbing with need. You felt his hand slip between your thighs, cupping your heat, and you spread your legs instinctively, granting him better access. His fingers teased your clit through your panties, and you bucked your hips, desperate for more.

“You like when I touch you, baby?' he murmured, his voice husky and deep. You’d dreamed of this moment for ages and it was proving to feel better than anything you could’ve imagined. 

'Y-yes,' you panted, your eyes screwed shut as you focused on the sensations flooding your body. Trent kissed his way back up to your mouth, silencing your moans with another passionate kiss. His hand moved to unclasp your bralette, the suddenness of the fabric falling off you causing you to gasp. Trent had seen you in bikinis, he’d see you wear tank tops with no bra but this… This was a dream come true. Your tits on full display just for him. He paused, his thumb brushing gently over your peaked nipple, and you whimpered, wanting him to take more. Then, with a swift movement, Trent took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hand squeezed and massaged the other. You cried out, slapping your hand over your mouth to quiet your pleasure, your head throwing back as pleasure spiked through you. You could feel his teeth slight nip the skin, sucking purposefully.  He left a hickey on your boob, marking you as his.

“That's the only type of bruise you should be getting from a man… from anyone,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “Got it?” You nodded, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. 

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your body tingling with a mixture of pleasure and a sense of protection and ownership. Then, without warning, Trent rolled off the bed. You opened your eyes, your body still buzzing, and watched as he straightened his clothes and ran a hand over his slightly messed up hair.

“I gotta get back downstairs, pretty girl”' he said, a cheeky grin spreading across his face as he looked at your half  naked, satisfied form. 

“Wait… where are you going?!” You yelped as your chest heaved and your pussy throbbed with need.  Just as the intensity was rising, Trent suddenly pulled back. You could see his breathing was just as heavy, his eyes dark with desire. The smug smile still there, one that made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip with frustration. "Trent, what—" you began, but he silenced you with a soft, almost teasing kiss on the forehead, but not without his thumb brushing over the blooming bruising forming from his lips.

"I really should have to go," he said, his voice low and rough, still tinged with the heat of the moment. "They’re going to wonder where I disappeared to." His grin widened, a playful glint in his eyes, as if he was well aware of the effect he was having on you. You blinked, completely taken aback. 

"You’re leaving? Now? I… what?" you asked, your voice incredulous. You could hardly believe what you were hearing. You could hardly believe what just happened. You had just been on the edge of something incredible, something you’d been craving for so long, and now he was pulling away? Trent nodded, clearly enjoying the power he held in this moment. He stood as if he’d just won some secret game, his eyes twinkling with mischief. You watched him, your body still tingling with the remnants of the heated encounter, a mixture of shock and frustration bubbling up inside you. "You’re really just going to leave?" you asked again, your voice laced with disbelief. Trent leaned down, his lips teasingly close to yours, hiis thumb moving to trace your cheek. 

"For now," he murmured, his lips ghosting yours, his tone promising more. "But trust me, Y/N, I’m not done with you. Not by a long shot." And with that, he turned and slipped out of your room, leaving you lying there, breathless and bewildered. Leaving you alone, nothing more than kisses and a love bite darkening to remember him by. Your hand reached up to touch the mark he'd left on your boob, a reminder of the intense passion that had just played out. A satisfied smile played on your lips as you snuggled into the bed, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. The door clicked shut softly behind him, and you could hear his footsteps receding down the hallway, back toward the laughter and chatter of his friends and your brother downstairs. You stared at the closed door for a moment, your mind racing. You couldn’t believe he’d just walked away, right when things had started to get good. A mix of frustration and longing coursed through you, making you roll over in bed with a groan. You buried your face in your pillow, feeling the heat still lingering on your skin where his hands had been.

"Ugh, Trent," you muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused into the now empty room. He had left you wanting more, and he knew it. You couldn’t decide whether to be angry or impressed by his restraint—or maybe his nerve. But one thing was certain: he’d lit a fire within you, and you knew he was right this was far from over. As you got ready for sleep, you wondered what the morning would bring and whether Trent would be back for more. The possibilities were endless, and the anticipation was already building for another encounter. You need to get yourself off after that because you weren’t sure you’d ever been so horny or wet in your life and he only kissed you. You guessed being left needy was better than being left without him at all. 

And so the floodgates had finally opened. Things were much better between you two than they were after the rejected kiss at the club which was great except now the uncertainty and the possibility of when and if he’d ever kiss you again loomed. The air was thick all the time. So what now?  After that stolen moment in your bedroom, you couldn’t stop thinking about Trent. Every glance, every word shared between you was now charged with a new electricity. So when the next movie night rolled around, you found yourself eagerly anticipating Trent's arrival. The minute he walked in, the air seemed to crackle with unspoken tension, a shared secret that only the two of you understood. As everyone settled in for the film, Trent offered to share his blanket with you, a casual smile on his lips. Without a second thought, you slipped under it, your body naturally leaning into his. The dark cinema room felt cozy and intimate, the movie playing softly in the background. You nestled closer to him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, his arm slipping around your shoulders, pulling you in tight.  It was so dark in the room no one could see just how close you’d gotten. You were tucked away in the back of the room, hiding from the other boys and hiding from how much you were excited by this.  The room buzzed with murmured conversations and laughter, the movie flickering on the big screen. But to you, it was all background noise. You and Trent were tangled up together under the blanket, caught in a kind of intimacy you hadn't allowed yourself to imagine, even with all the flirtation and stolen glances. You’d always sat together but this? This was new. As you drew your knee closer to him, his fingers dug slightly into your thigh, grounding you with a touch that sent your heart racing.

"Can you just-" he grumbled, gently grabbing your leg and pulling it over him fully, letting you feel the firmness of his thigh under yours. "Your knee was digging into me." He smirked, his voice hush. 

"Sorry," you laughed, but the apology didn't feel genuine. You wanted to be close, closer than you had been, closer than maybe you should’ve been. "Are you sure this is... okay?" you asked, glancing up at him, your voice softer than you meant it to be. His gaze held yours, intense but teasing. 

"Y/N, you're good," he murmured, his fingers squeezing your thigh as if to reassure you— and then pulling you even closer. "Just come here, yeah? And shh." That small smile, that bit of warmth in his eyes, it gave you all the permission you needed. You leaned into him fully, your body curling up next to his as he adjusted the blanket, his arm draped protectively over you, and his hand resting on your hip. His fingers grazed your skin just above the waistband of your shorts, making your pulse thrum louder than the movie. You couldn't hide your smile, feeling bold and bashful all at once. Then, without really meaning to, you moved your hand over his abs, tracing the outline of muscles under his shirt. It felt natural, like you'd done it a hundred times, though the thrill in your chest reminded you that you hadn't. Trent let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at you. Absentmindedly you let it drift a little too low for Trent to be able to manage.

"You’re not watching. I told you you’d like this one.” he smiled again, one brow arched with that familiar, teasing glint in his eye. He picked up your hand and moved it up a little bit. You sheepishly let your eyes shut, feeling awkward that your hand was unintentionally so close to somewhere you were dying to explore but knew that this was definitely not the place for.

"I’m tired," you shrugged lazily trying to move away from the tension,  giving a little smile, your voice soft as your hand remained on him just marginally less suggestive. It was almost like you were in two conversations. One spoken, one physical. 

“I'll fill you in, alright?" He pulled you even closer, his voice low as he murmured, There was something in his tone that made your heart skip—a promise in the words that went beyond explaining a plotline. His hand moved lower on your hip, fingers dipping under the waistband of your shorts just slightly, warm and firm against your skin. It felt like the start of something, an unspoken acknowledgment of what had been building between you.

"Thank you." Your voice dropped to a whisper, playful but shaky with the thrill of it all. His eyes met yours with a look that made your breath hitch. You weren’t really thanking him for the offer but rather what his hands were doing. Reassurance. He had just given you reassurance that your hands on him were okay.  He hummed, his tone rich and warm, a slight smile tugging at his lips. His hand traveled a little lower, grazing over your ass beneath the blanket, his fingers pressing into you in a way that made your whole body tense with anticipation.The energy between you was thick, charged in a way you couldn't ignore. His thumb brushed over your skin slowly, each stroke sending waves of heat through you as he molded his hand to your curves. You glanced up at him, not bothering to hide your reaction anymore. And then, without saying a word, he leaned back and guided your head to his chest, pulling you into him fully. His hand stayed possessive on your hip, his fingers lazily tracing circles, his touch both gentle and thrilling. You settled against him, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. You yawned quietly, the warmth and security of his embrace lulling you into a drowsy state as you rested against him. You felt your eyelids growing heavy, yet every brush of his hand on your skin kept you alert, the push and pull of relaxation and excitement making your head swim.

"Okay?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper as his fingers drifted up your side and back down, lingering at the edge of your waistband.

"I like your hands on me," you whispered, emboldened by the warmth of his embrace and the way he was holding you like you were his to protect. Trent chuckled softly, his breath warm on the top of your head. Your lips parted to say more, but no words came out. You wanted to say something, to let him know how you felt, but his arms around you spoke for themselves. So, instead, you closed your eyes, your body melting further into him as his hand slipped under the waistband of your shorts once more, more daring this time. His fingers brushed over the curve of your ass, his touch possessive yet tender, a promise that you were the only thing on his mind.

"Shhh," he whispered, his tone teasing but comforting. "Relax"  He cooed, telling you that you didn’t need to talk, not right now. And as you lay there, wrapped up in his arms, the line between you disappeared entirely. His hand traced lazy patterns on your skin, each touch soft and lingering, leaving you breathless yet more at peace than you'd felt in ages. You closed your eyes, letting yourself fall into the warmth of him, knowing that things between you had changed and would never be the same. The film ticked on as you were curled up against Trent, head resting on his chest, peacefully asleep. Noah went to grab something to drink and spotted your oh so cozy moment. He grinned, unable to help himself.

“Lads, I feel like I pulled the short straw in this friendship,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. “How does Trenty end up with Y/N on top of him for a movie night?” Noah cheekily spoke, not loud, but enough for all the boys to hear, but quiet enough for you to stay asleep. Trent tried to keep a straight face, shrugging it off as the rest of the boys chuckled. Jack, however, didn’t laugh. His eyebrows furrowed, and he turned around, finally noticing the cozy scene unfolding on the couch. You’d always sat next to Trent but this… This was a proper cuddle. 

“Hey—” Trent held up his hands defensively, moving them slightly away from you, though he’d definitely been resting his hand all over you a moment ago. “Innocent, alright?” he mumbled, hoping Jack wouldn’t press too hard.

“Isn’t she in those—” another friend piped up with a smirk, catching himself just in time as he met Jack’s warning glare. You were in tiny biker shorts, and the guys clearly noticed, but Trent’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to Jack before shooting his friend a look of caution.

“Mate,” Trent muttered under his breath, the unspoken warning clear. Jack shook his head, his expression softening just slightly but not enough to let you two off the hook. 

“Embarrassing. Y/N, get the fuck up,” he said, voice half-exasperated, half-amused as he swatted toward you, though he didn’t make any real effort to wake you. Trent looked down at you for a second, his arm slyly stayed around you as if he couldn't bare to part and selfishly he didn’t want to disturb you because he didn't want you to move.

“She’s not bothering me, mate,” he replied casually. “Honest.” Jack groaned, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the movie.

“Gross. Just keep your fucking hands to yourself, bro.” he muttered, though there was an undertone of resignation, like he was used to this now knowing there was a line that hadn’t been crossed. A satisfied smirk crept onto Trent’s face, and he shifted slightly under you, settling you more comfortably against him. He glanced at Noah, daring him to say anything more. Trent tried to be nonchalant but whatever unspoken thing existed between you had come bubbling up to the surface. Jack cared too much about you to embarrass you or to wake you right now. You were his little sister but that line often blurred when it came to things like your relationship with boys. Often, he acted as a best friend, he’d listen to you rant about how bad a guy was at flirting and he’d enjoy it and then other times you’d simply wear something he didn’t like and big brother Jack would storm back. Depended on his mood, depended on what he thought of the guy involved. Jack didn’t see Trent as a threat and so he let you stayed as is. As Noah walked out of the room he got closer to Trent and you. 

“How focused are you right now trying not to get hard?” He laughed in a lower voice joking with Trent. This humor wasn’t new. Sure, did Noah push boundaries a lot, yes, he knew the time and place for it though. But Jack always was a good sport, probably better than most would be because up til now no one dared try anything with you. He knew you were objectively pretty and boys liked you. He’d be naive to think otherwise and so he took his friends' jokes light heartedly and just as that… jokes. Trent’s face got a little flushed from Noah’s teasing. 

“Mate…” he murmured with a look that said don’t push it, but Noah’s grin only grew. Jack turned back from the screen, catching the exchange. He chuckled, 

“You better not be, Trentski,” though he laughed it off, turning back to the movie, clearly not sensing anything serious. Jack had long written off the way you and Trent interacted as harmless banter. He’d seen you two sit together during movie nights before, even team up during games, and he figured it was just easy camaraderie. Like another older brother figure in his innocence. Though lately, Trent was acting far from like a brother to you. The guys finally simmered down, letting the movie carry on in silence. You shifted in your sleep, snuggling deeper into Trent, and his arm instinctively curled around you. Jack glanced over to check if you’d woken up yet but found you even more comfortably nestled into Trent’s chest. But Trent still remained coy, the arm under the blanket stroking your skin, the one out of it showing innocence. Jack shook his head, unable to hide a grin.

“Such a baby,” he teased, looking at you. Then, with a chuckle, he nudged Trent’s foot with his own. “Seriously, man, wake her up. She’s heavy, bro.” He teased using something false about you as an excuse but Trent kept his gaze on the screen, giving a casual shrug. 

“Yeah, I will after the film. She’s fine,” he replied nonchalantly, though his hand shifted protectively around you. Jack started to object, a glimmer of confusion crossing his face, but the movie pulled his attention back just as a loud crash exploded on screen. As the film’s intensity increased, Trent’s attention stayed divided—partly on the screen but mostly on you, feeling your warm weight leaning into him. The tension was undeniable, yet somehow it felt natural, like an unspoken secret only the two of you shared, hidden in plain sight. You nestled in closer, murmuring his name with a sleepy whimper, oblivious to everything around you. Your quiet murmur of ‘T’ melted into the air. Your body shifted against him naturally, instinctively, pressing into his warmth like you belonged there. Trent froze, his entire body tensing at the way your breath brushed his neck, at the gentle graze of your lips along his collarbone. His hand hovered, uncertain, before he finally placed it back down on your waist steadying you. Trent's hand moved reflexively, slipping just beneath the edge of your shirt, his fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist.as But the warmth of your skin, the subtle weight of you against him, sent a shiver through him he couldn't hide. At first, he thought maybe he'd imagined it-that your soft, whispered ‘T’ was just some sleepy mumble, meaningless. But then you did it again, and the way you shifted, nestling even closer, made his pulse race. Your body had moved in a slow, subtle grind, your warmth pressed against his thigh, and Trent's hand tightened instinctively, his fingers digging slightly into your hip to keep you in place. He swallowed hard, glancing around. Noah and Jack and the other boys were all engrossed in the movie, thankfully oblivious to the tension simmering under the blanket between you and Trent. He let out a silent breath of relief, but his mind was racing. Every nerve screamed at him to move, to put a little distance between you and him before he lost control. He couldn’t though, he loved this.

You had conked out like a light, comforted by his embrace but exhausted from your week. You were a heavy sleeper and right now the only thing occupying your mind was the last thing you thought before you fell asleep. Trent. You remembered the way he felt in your bedroom and now he was underneath you. Your subconscious was in overdrive. And then you murmured again, a barely audible whine, and his grip on your hip tightened just slightly, holding you close. His thoughts spun as he tried to focus on the movie, on anything other than the way you felt against him, but it was impossible. His heart pounded with the overwhelming urge to pull you fully onto his lap, to guide you through the motions you were making so innocently in your sleep. The things he wanted to whisper in your ear... ‘Just like that,’ or ‘Good girl, keep going’ -things that made him clench his jaw as he struggled to stay in control. You shifted again, pressing your warmth more firmly against his thigh, and Trent's breath hitched. He knew he was in trouble, his body responding in ways that left no doubt about how he felt. He couldn't help it, couldn't help how much he wanted this, wanted you, and the fact that you were dreaming of him only fueled the fire simmering beneath the surface. He was so fucking hard he didn’t know what to do. But he couldn't do anything, not with everyone around, he couldn’t wake you up. So instead, he leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment to steady his breathing. He kept his hand on your hip, holding you protectively, as if to shield you both from the rest of the world. He could feel the weight of your trust, the warmth of your skin, and as his thumb brushed your hip absentmindedly, he felt himself sinking deeper into the feeling of having you so close. Just when he thought he might regain some control, you let out another soft sound, shitting closer. The sensation sent a jolt through him, and he found himself nearly holding his breath, praying no one would notice as he gently caressed your skin, savoring the warmth of you against him. The movie played on, but for him, everything else had faded. You were all he could focus on. Finally, he forced himself to ease back, though his hand lingered on your hip. With a deep, steadying breath, he whispered just barely above a murmur, "You have no idea, do you?"

When you finally stirred from your sleep, the movie’s credits rolling softly in the background, you were met with the gentle pressure of Trent’s lips brushing your forehead. The warmth of the kiss sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a rush of exhilaration, your heart fluttering wildly. It was instinct, it just happened. It was a tender moment, more intimate than anything you’d ever shared before. The simplicity of the gesture made you want to scream and call Layla immediately to share the excitement. You blinked awake, taking in the dimly lit room and the familiar sound of soft laughter and muted conversations. Although the boys had dispersed after the film ended—two had left the house, Noah had fallen asleep, another was starting a second movie, and Jack had already gone to bed. The room was quieter now, a calm settling over the space. You turned your gaze to Trent up, who was still holding you close. His arm was wrapped securely around you, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your back. You shyly smiled up at him, the playful glint in his eyes matched by your own.  You tried to act casual as you settled back into Trent, even though you were now acutely aware of every little shift, every breath, and the heat radiating between you. His hand hadn't moved from your waist, grounding you, sending a subtle but undeniable thrill through you with the gentle squeeze he'd given just before you tried to sit up.

"Comfortable?" he asked quietly, his voice laced with a kind of warmth that melted any lingering awkwardness between you. Trent chuckled, low and soft, his breath brushing over the top of your head. You bit your lip, nodding with a shy smile.

"Yeah... sorry for just falling asleep on you." You awkwardly told him feeling a bit guilty but not enough to move. 

"Don't be. I didn't mind," he murmured, his fingers trailing lightly along your back. "Couldn't bring myself to wake you up, honestly. You seemed like you had a good sleep." He chirped recalling just* how comfortable you had gotten. You were unaware of how much of your hand you’d shown. Nevertheless, you leaned into him again, the warmth of his chest so inviting that it made your eyelids grow heavy. Glancing around, you could see Noah fast asleep on the other side of the room, the glow of the screen casting soft shadows. 

"Maybe I should get to my room..." you whispered, knowing it was probably the right thing to do but reluctant to move still.

"Nah," Trent's voice was barely more than a murmur as he held you in place, his hand warm and steady on your hip, "Stay here with me." It was then you became keenly aware of the pressure against your thigh, the firm presence of him, his hard length, and a spark of curiosity and excitement flared in you. You stifled a soft gasp, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment, and as you nestled closer, his grip on your waist tightened, as if he didn't want you to go anywhere. "Not gonna watch?" he teased softly, his voice carrying that familiar note of playful challenge, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hip. Your gaze was set completely opposite of the screen. You shook your head with a shy smile, realizing your attention was entirely elsewhere. You could feel his eyes on you as you adjusted slightly, shifting so that your hand landed just over his lap, you palmed over his bulge but you didn’t do anything more. You were testing the waters. The slight intake of his breath didn't go unnoticed, nor did the way his gaze lingered, darker, more intent than you'd ever seen before.

"Okay," you whispered, cheeks flushing as you turned toward the screen, feigning interest while your hand subtly shifted, brushing over him going a bit further. His eyes flickered down, and for a moment, he looked like he was holding his breath, his gaze smoldering as he watched your every move. You felt bold, bolder than you ever had before, and the thrill of it only intensified as he let his hand slide lower, settling on the curve of your thigh. His fingers pressed gently, almost possessively, sending a shiver up your spine as you leaned back into him, the subtle tension between you deepening with each shared glance and unspoken touch. You stayed like that for a while. Hidden by the darkness of the room and the blanket. The movie played on, but for the two of you, it was as though everything else had fallen away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment. Trent's breath hitched as he felt you press against him, his face buried in the crook of your neck as if grounding himself. His fingers slid around your waist, holding you close, a quiet sigh escaping him as he struggled to keep his composure. He could feel you about to speak. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes warm and teasing. 

"Should I go... or...?" you asked softly, your voice barely a whisper. Trent's lips curled into a smirk as his gaze softened. You were asking a question with only one correct answer and you prayed he knew that.

"Stay with me. Seriously. In my room tonight," he murmured, his tone inviting but playful.  It wasn’t uncommon for the boys to use one of the guest rooms to crash if it was late, but tonight, the invitation felt charged with a different kind of energy. You hesitated for a moment, the tension between you palpable. It was clear that both of you were aware of the risks, the potential complications of crossing that line. But the pull between you was undeniable. The warmth, the closeness, and the flirtatious banter were too tempting to resist. You felt a thrill go through you, the weight of what he was asking settling in.

"Okay," you whispered, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, your cheeks flushed.

"Yeah?" he asked, brushing his nose against yours as his hand skimmed up your back under your shirt. "You wanna come sleep with me?" He asked through a whisper. You nodded, the warmth in his gaze making you feel bold and nervous all at once. He grinned, his voice dropping low. "Can't be this shy, though. Not in my bed."

"I won't be," you promised, your words barely audible but carrying a weight you both felt. You glanced around the room quickly to make sure everyone was still asleep, then leaned in, letting your lips find his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but then his hand found the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into him. You melted against him as he responded, his lips warm and inviting, and the room faded away, leaving just the two of you tangled in that quiet, breathless moment.

"C’mon" he whispered against your mouth, pulling back just enough to take your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The two of you got up off the couch, the boundary between friendship and something more blurring as you both stood up quietly, knowing full well that the night and your relationship was about to change. He led you down the hallway, both of you trying to settle your racing hearts and keep quiet. As you and Trent quietly snuck down the dim hallway, he was right behind you, his presence warm and magnetic. You felt his hands slip around your waist, pulling you closer. 

"If you don't want this, you need to tell me now. Because once we start, I'm not going to be able to stop myself." His breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in and whispered. The gravity of his words sent a rush through you, and you knew he meant every bit of it. Your heart hammered in your chest. This was really going to happen. Finally, you slipped into the guest room. Trent shut the door behind you softly, the sound barely registering as he turned and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you into him. It was obvious both of you were caught in the shared thrill of the forbidden. You looked around the room, taking in the stillness, and then back at Trent, who was watching you, eyes filled with lust, disbelief, and excitement all rolled into one. His gaze intense as he faced you, his hands reaching out to pull you close. His hands roamed over your sides, and you leaned into his touch with a soft, unbidden moan.

"Oh my god," you whimpered, feeling his fingers explore, his touch leaving trails of warmth. A quiet, smug chuckle slipped from his lips.

"Gotta be quiet for me," he murmured, brushing his thumb along your jawline, his voice low and teasing. You exhaled a shaky breath, 

"We can't go back after this, T." You cautioned him. There was a flicker of hesitation, a weight to the words, and you looked up, the heat and the excitement dancing in your gaze.

"I don't want to go back," he said, his hands pressing firmly against your back, drawing you closer until there was no space between you. "You want this? You want me?" His voice was rough and needy, the vulnerability almost hidden under his intensity. Without another word, you closed the distance between you, your mouth capturing his in a kiss that said everything you couldn't put into words. 

“So fucking bad," you murmured against his lips. The kiss deepened, growing more intense as his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you against him until you could feel every inch of him pressed to you. Every touch, every kiss felt like it had been building for years, and with each moment, the tension only heightened. Trent's hands roamed possessively, his touch a promise, while his lips moved with a hunger that left you breathless. In that room, with the door shut and the world outside, it was as if nothing else mattered but you and him, and the weight of everything you both had kept hidden. He pushed you up against the wall. You felt the hard plane of his chest against your soft tits, and your nipples immediately pebbled, betraying your desire. His hands were on your waist, and you could feel his breath on your neck as he nuzzled your scent. "T," you moaned, your eyes closing as you leaned back against the wall, offering yourself to him. He growled low in his throat, a sound that sent shivers down your spine, and then his mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting, marking you as his. You whimpered, your hands gripping his hair, encouraging him, wanting more.

"I've want you, baby," he murmured, his voice hoarse with need. "Want to know what you taste like, feel like, everywhere." His hands moved up your body, cupping your tits, thumbing your hard nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Take it off," you pleaded. "Please, Trent." You actually felt like you might have a heart attack, you just were so shocked his hands were actually on you. Finally, Your heart was beating so fast. His response was to pull your shirt over your head with an ease you didn’t know possible. He stepped back to admire the view, your full boobs spilling out of your lace bra, and then he sank in front of you, taking one hard peak and then the other into his hot mouth. You cried out, your hands fisting in his hair, holding him to you as he sucked and nipped, his hands squeezing and kneading your soft flesh. You could feel your pussy getting wet, could feel the juices running down your thigh, and you knew he could smell your arousal.

“Shhh, baby," he said, looking up at you with dark, heated eyes. "Gotta be quiet if you want me to keep going.” He cooed gently. He was so in control and you were so… not.  You nodded but then his mouth trailed down your stomach, licking and kissing a path down to the waistband of your shorts. Being quiet was starting to feel like and impossible task. He hooked his fingers into the fabric and tugged, slowly stripping you, his eyes never leaving yours. You stepped out of your biker shorts and kicked them away, now dressed only in your bra and panties. "So fucking gorgeous," he growled, his eyes roaming over your body. "Been wanting to see you like this for so fucking long, just for me to see." He stood then, and you could see the bulge in his pants, could see how much he wanted you. You reached for him, needing to feel his hard length in your hand. He moaned as you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slowly, gently.

"You like when I touch you?" you asked, your voice a whisper. It was teasing but it was also a genuine question. You two had never done this before. You felt like you were on another planet. It almost didn't make sense

"Fuck, yeah," he hissed, his hips bucking into your hand. "But I want to feel your mouth. I want you to be a good girl f’me tonight. Can you do that f’me?" He asked and you nodded. You didn't need to be told twice. You sank to your knees in front of him, your eyes never leaving his, and then you took him into your mouth, sucking and teasing, your tongue flicking over the sensitive head of his cock. He tasted his pre cum and it had you wanting more. You moaned as you took him deeper, your hands cupping his heavy balls. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you but not forcing you. "Good girl. Suck my cock. Just like that" A part of Trent was confused that those words flowed out of his mouth so easily to you… to Jack’s little sister but he couldn’t stop them, he couldn’t not twitch at the way your tongue felt on him.  This was everything he wanted. You hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke, your free hand wrapping around the base of his shaft, stroking and twisting as you sucked. You could feel his thighs trembling, knew he was close, and you wanted to taste him. After a while, Trent couldn’t manage any longer. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck baby, gonna make me cum," he warned, his voice tight with need. You sucked harder, faster, and with a muted roar, he came, flooding your mouth with his hot cum. You swallowed it all, moaning with pleasure as you milked him dry, your hands and mouth gentle as he rode out his orgasm. Slowly, he helped you to your feet, his eyes burning with desire, and then he kissed you, deep and hard, his tongue dueling with yours as he claimed your mouth. You could taste yourself on him, and it only made you hungrier for more. Breaking the kiss, he picked you up and carried you to the bed. He laid you on the mattress, crawling over you, his lips and tongue trailing down your body. He pushed your bra up, baring your tits, and took a nipple into his hot mouth, sucking and biting as his fingers pinched and pulled the other peak. You moaned and arched your back, your hands grabbing his hair, holding him to you as he lavished attention on your sensitive flesh. He suckled you like a man starving, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing and caressing, learning every inch of you.

"Please," you whimpered, your need building. "Trent, I need—" He cut you off by tugging your panties down your legs and settling between your thighs.

"I know what you need." He hooked your legs over his shoulders and blew a hot breath over your wet center, making you shiver in anticipation. "God, you're so fucking wet f'me," he groaned, his tongue dipping into your slit and tasting your essence. His mouth was magic, his tongue probing and flicking your clit, licking and sucking your juices, delving into your hole and fucking you with his tongue. You moaned and writhed beneath him, your hands gripping the bed sheets as he ate you like he'd never be allowed to taste you again.

"T please," you begged, your body tightening, coiling like a spring. "I'm close, so close." You whined. He hummed against your clit, sending vibrations through your sensitive flesh, and that was all it took. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as you came, your pussy clenching and releasing around his probing tongue.

"Good girl." He murmured against you. Slowly, he let you down, kissing and licking his way back up your body, and then he was beside you, pulling you into his arms, your heads pillowed on his broad chest. You could feel his heart thundering in his chest, could feel his heavy cock pressed against your thigh. "Oh my fucking god" you whispered, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. You felt dizzy form the best orgasm of your life and the fact that you were naked in front of Jack’s best friend.

"You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, baby." He told you and you hummed, unable to get anything more concrete out. “Not done with you.” He growled, his hands skimming down your back to cup your bare ass. "I want to feel that tight pussy around my cock." You shivered at his words, a bolt of need shooting straight to your core.

"Please, T," you begged, your voice thick with need. "I want you inside me." You begged. He rolled you onto your back and positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your slippery slit. You whimpered, spreading your legs wider, cradling his balls with your thighs, urging him on.

"Condom," you whispered, your eyes searching his.  With a nod, he rolled onto his back, giving you access to check the nightstand drawer, praying something would be in there. You scrambled out of bed and retrieved a condom, your naked body on full display. You’d think about why there were some in the room to begin with later because right now you weren’t complaining. He growled at the sight of you, his eyes roaming over your curves appreciatively. Back in bed, you sheathed him in latex, your hands stroking and petting, enjoying the weight and length of him in your hand.

"Come here... right now," he commanded you, his voice rough with need. Crawling onto the bed, you straddled his hips, positioning yourself over him. Slowly, you sank down, taking him inch by inch, filling yourself with his thick cock. "Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his eyes rolling back as you took him all the way to the hilt. “Good girl.” You moaned, biting your lip as you adjusted to his size, your inner muscles clenching around him. Slowly, you started to move, rising up and sinking back down, riding him with slow, deep strokes. Your tits bounced with each movement, your hard nipples rubbing against his chest. Trent's hands came up to cup your tits, massaging and squeezing as your hips worked, your bodies slapping together in a lewd, wet rhythm. "Always wanted to fuck you, baby," he confessed, his eyes burning into yours. "Been wanting this for so long."

"Shit, shit -Me too - shit - so fucking long," you admitted, your head falling back as the pleasure built. You didn’t know it was possibly for sex to feel so good. Something so wrong but so right about this. "Oh, T… Fuck this feels so good. Fuck, this is so good." You quickened your pace, riding him faster, harder, your juices flowing freely as your body worked towards another climax. Trent's hands moved down your body, one squeezing your breast, the other rubbing your swollen clit in time with your hips. This was so forbidden and it was making it all the hotter. 

"Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice thick with his own need. "Cum on my cock. Gonna fill this tight pussy with my cum.” His words sent you over the edge, and you cried out, your body shaking as you came around him, your pussy milking his cock. You’d never heard Trent talk like this and it had your brain short circuiting and evidently your pussy clenching tighter. With a groan, Trent joined you, filling the condom with his release, his hips bucking up to meet your downward strokes. Spent, you collapsed on top of him, your breath ragged, your heart racing. He held you tightly, kissing your sweaty forehead, stroking your hair, your bodies still joined. Hi hands stroking over your sore muscles.

"That was—" you started, but he cut you off with a kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth, tasting of you.

"Not nearly enough, baby," he whispered, his eyes dark and full of promise. "Not nearly." He rolled you over and you giggled as you made out with him, your arm awkwardly reaching to the bedside table again tapping around until your hand found another condom. “You don't fucking understand how long I’ve wanted you. I need more of you.” Trent told you kissing your neck as your arched into him, helping him put on another condom. 

“I've needed this forever, I need more, T. I need you." You answered him with a whine. He hummed in agreement but bit down onto your sensitive skin. You moaned loving every second of this, the fear and risk of it all faded and covered up by the passion and pleasure.  You needed more of him and so Trent gave you more. He fucked you again and again till you ran down to the last spare condom. You had orgasm you didn't know were possible; earth shattering, squirting, convulsing, life changing.

“I’m the only one that gets to make you cum like this.” He whispered against your skin slick and shiny after what you would consider a workout. Your pussy sore and throbbing from orgasm after orgasm. 

“You’re the only one who ever has.” You breathily giggled. The night’s darkness wrapped around you as you laid tangled with Trent, still basking in the warmth of each other's presence. You shifted slightly, and he caught your gaze, smirking with that signature confidence. "T… this was…I’ve never cum like that before in my life," you admitted, half laughing, half in disbelief at yourself for even saying it. The smirk that grew on Trent’s face was so obnoxious and so handsome you couldn’t believe it. "Oh god, l've fed the beast, haven’t I?" you sighed, trying to downplay the flattery you'd just given him.

"Nah, nah, just tell me it was the best sex of your life, it’s fine," he laughed, clearly amused.

"Stop!" you swatted playfully at his bare chest, cheeks warm from both laughter and lingering shyness. He pulled you in closer, his arms wrapping around you with ease.

"C'mere," he murmured, voice softer now. "I'm kidding. Just want to make you to feel good, baby. I’m glad I was able to." He kissed the top of your head and then said, "I'll tell you something, how about that...”

"Hm?" You looked up, curious.

"Never came that hard in my life. That head? The first time I came inside? Fucking hell, baby. Fighting for me life,” he confessed with a low chuckle, eyes softening as he looked down at you.

"Really?" you asked, the innocence in your tone betraying just how surprised you were.

"Y/N, you've been flirting with me for 10 years," he laughed, shaking his head as if the entire situation was surreal even to him. "I was dying." You giggled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. 

"I thought you lasted a long time… longer than I thought you might.” You giggled. 

"Oh, well I'm glad you think that." He grinned, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. You gave him a playful smile, nudging his shoulder. 

"A very valiant effort." You smiled. He raised an eyebrow, leaning in close. 

"Mm, so best sex of your life?" He teased. But the thing was… it probably was true. 

"Shut up!" You laughed, burying your face into the pillow. But then, after a beat, you nodded. "But yeah was top." You laid draped over him, feeling his warmth seep into you as your heart started to slow. 

“Yeah, Top.” He concurred quietly. You shifted a little, clearing your throat.  

"I guess I should..." you began, feeling a slight wave of shyness creep back in.

"Nah, Y/N…" Trent's voice was soft but firm, a small smile tugging at his lips as he pulled you closer. "Stay here with me for a bit. I don’t want… just stay. Gotta make sure you're good after all that.” A smile spread across your face as you nuzzled into him, settling comfortably against his chest. You knew it’d be a bad idea to sleep in the room, making the risk of getting caught much larger but leaving so soon felt weird. Trent could sense that tension. It was… awkward in the logistics but not in the feelings blooming. 

"Okay," you murmured, letting yourself sink into the moment. You felt so comfortable with him but it was also simultaneously terrifying. Both emotions coexisting and fighting for the top spot.

"Such a good girl f'me," he muttered, his fingers tracing light circles on your back. The comment made your heart skip a beat, though you tried to brush it off. In any other situation you wouldn’t have batted an eye but now in post nut clarity you were almost shocked hearing that come out of his mouth again. 

"You can't call me that anymore," you said with a giggle, feeling a little flustered, though it was hard to deny how much you liked it.

"What?" he laughed, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Baby, we're in bed. I think we've crossed a few lines here."

"Yeah, but it's..." you trailed off, trying to come up with a reason, but the words slipped away as he looked at you.

"C'mon. You were so good f'me, taking my cock," he teased, the smirk on his lips both infuriating and irresistibly charming. The memory of the way his hands had explored you, how he knew exactly how to make you fall apart, sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed, feeling your muscles tense as you tried to come up with a retort, but before you could say anything, he brought a finger to your lips. "Shhh," he murmured, "you like being a good girl for me. It's okay. Just lay here.” And so you took his finger in your mouth teasingly. He had you and he had you acting like a complete mess for the dick he just gave you. The way he looked at you, his eyes half-lidded and full of a quiet, possessive affection, made your pulse quicken. And as you lay there, the weight of what had just happened settled around you. It was a dangerous game you were playing, but at that moment, wrapped in Trent's arms, it felt like the only place you wanted to be. You fell asleep like that tangled with him. It was the best sleep of your life. Your body sore but you’d never felt more alive. 

“Shit…” you mumbled as the soft morning light filtered through the guest room curtains, casting a faint glow over you and Trent as you woke, wrapped in each other’s arms. You were still half-asleep, but the weight of the situation hit you all at once—the fact that you were cuddling with Trent in your house while your brother, Jack, was likely just upstairs, god, you prayed not downstairs yet. Panic fluttered in your chest as you glanced at the clock on your phone. “I have to go,” you whispered, trying to sound casual, but the urgency in your voice betrayed you.

“Nah.” Trent’s response was a lazy, contented hum as he buried his face into your neck, pressing a kiss against your skin. It was so bad how good that felt. 

“I have to go soon,” you corrected yourself, trying to wriggle free, but Trent’s arms only tightened around you.

“Definitely not soon,” he murmured, his lips trailing against your collarbone. You laughed softly, even though your heart was racing.

 “What? Do you have some sort of death wish? Jack would kill us both if he found out.” Trent grinned, his hands gently caressing your back under the covers. 

“At least we’d die together.” He cooed. You tilted your head to look at him, surprised by how calm he was. 

“You’d really risk it? For a cuddle?” His brow furrowed slightly, a look of confusion crossing his face. 

“Mmm.” He hummed with a sleepy raspiness. 

“You never struck me as a cuddle person.” You smiled letting your hands run over his arm skin. 

“What are you on about? I’ve cuddled with you before.” He smirked knowing very well this was a radically different type of cuddle. You were naked. 

“Yeah, but that was… innocent, right?” You asked, suddenly unsure. Everything felt different now—charged with the weight of what had happened between you.

“Was it really though?” Trent smirked, raising an eyebrow.  Your eyes widened as your stomach did a little flip. 

“I don’t know!” you yelped, your voice half a laugh, half a nervous squeak. He shifted slightly, turning to face you more fully. He said your name slowly, and your pulse quickened as he locked eyes with you. The conversation shifted from what you were doing now to talking about what you had been doing before.

“Come on. I always cuddle with you because it felt right. I feel like we have a good time, I like spending time with you, and…” He hesitated for a second before continuing, his voice dropping lower. “I didn’t exactly mind if it led somewhere.” Your breath caught in your throat at the openness of his words. His hands continued to trace soft patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You could feel your cheeks warming, and you looked away shyly.

“I don’t mind any of those reasons,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Good,” Trent whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, pulling you even closer. Giving in to the temptation, you let your fingers continue their slow, teasing dance across Trent's chest, savoring the feeling of his skin under your fingertips. His breath hitched as you traced over every ridge of muscle, and you could feel his body heat rising with each delicate stroke. "Alright. Stopppp," Trent groaned, his voice low and husky, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer instead of pushing you away. His head fell back against the pillow, a helpless laugh escaping his lips. "You always do this. You’re turning me on. Stop!" He whined complaining in typical Trent fashion. 

"Do what?" you teased, feigning innocence but unable to hide the smirk playing on your lips. He shook his head, glancing down at you with a mix of frustration and affection in his eyes.

"This. The nails, the way you touch me, like you don't know exactly what it does to me. You drag your nails over me in specific spots you know will get me thinking. You do this everytime we just chill or like even if we’re taking photos! You’re such a tease!” He accused you, his voice trailing off, his hands slipping beneath the blankets to rest on your hips, fingers tightening just slightly. "You're always teasing me.” He smirked. Your manicure pulling across his skin. Your smile widened teasingly, dragging your nails across his chest again, but slower this time, more deliberate. Trent's groan was deep, the kind that sent shivers down your spine.  “Ohhh so you know you’re doing this? Wow I see. Innocent cuddles such bullshit from you as well.” He laughed, shaking his head. His hand on you slipped higher, skimming your waist. His touch was possessive, warm, and the way his fingers brushed your skin set your pulse racing. He let out a breath, as if trying to compose himself, but you could see the effect you had on him.  "You're not as innocent as you pretend to be," he said, tilting his head to look at you more seriously, his lips twitching with amusement. "You know exactly what you're doing." You giggled, leaning into his chest, feeling your cheeks warm as you tried to keep your composure. 

"Okay, maybe I do a little," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"A little?" He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. 

“Don’t make it out like I’ve had some long game plan,” you giggled, though your heart was racing at how close you were, how his hands were pulling you closer, his warmth seeping into your skin. Trent's gaze softened, his hand still resting on your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. His voice dropped, more serious now. 

“No? “He inquired with a raised brow and a smirk You swallowed, heart pounding. 

"No, maybe just hope.” You shyly told him, glancing up at him. His smirk faded into something softer as he shifted slightly, turning more toward you. 

"Yeah?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with a kind of gentle curiosity, his hand sliding higher up your side, his touch now more comforting than teasing. "I'm glad you did.” The weight of his words hung between you, unspoken but understood, and suddenly, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you in that moment-his warmth, his touch, his eyes locked on yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You both just lay there, wrapped up in each other, the blanket pulled tight around you as if creating your own little bubble of warmth and secrecy. Trent's fingers brushed over your skin again, a slow, deliberate touch that made your breath catch. You shifted slightly, letting your fingers continue their teasing exploration of his chest.

"You know," you whispered, leaning in closer until your lips brushed the curve of his ear, "I didn't mean to drive you crazy." Trent chuckled softly, his breath hot against your neck as he tilted his head toward you.

"You did a pretty good job of it anyway," he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. "And you're still doing it." You hummed in response, your lips curving into a smile as you let your nails rake over him again, watching his eyes flutter shut. 

"Is it really all that bad?" you whispered, your voice playful but with a hint of challenge. His eyes flicked open, locking onto yours, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you again. 

"It's bad because I can't think about anything else," he said, his voice rough with desire. "You've been driving me mad for a long time." The tension between you was thick, but instead of pulling away, Trent's hands slid back to your hips, gripping you just a little tighter. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, but not quite closing the distance.

"Is that so?" you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest as you tilted your head, letting your lips hover just over his. You wanted him to close the gap, to take what he'd been holding back, but you also wanted to savor the moment, to stretch it out just a little longer.

"Yeah," he whispered back, his breath hot on your lips, his hands tugging you even closer under the blanket. "You're not going anywhere." He cooed. You grinned, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you tilted your head, lips barely grazing his.

 "Not yet," you whispered back, enjoying the game, the push and pull between you two. Trent's eyes darkened with desire, his grip tightening on you as he leaned in just enough for your lips to finally touch in a slow, searing kiss that made every nerve in your body ignite. His hand tangled in your hair as the kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melting into him, every playful tease forgotten as his lips claimed yours.  The worry of Jack finding you almost disintegrating entirely by Trent’s lips on yours.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 4 - Saturday Night xx

[nessa007]

reasons to love live action ariel/eric

they both love to collect things. ariel collects things from the above world and keeps them in her grotto. eric collects things from his travels on his ship/from the ocean and keeps them in his library. the scene between them in the library is truly everything 🥹🥰

ariel showing him there’s even more to the things he had collected, smashing the rock to reveal what’s inside it, blowing into the shell and eric is completely in awe of her knowing these things

eric is so drawn to the sea because he was washed up onto land from a shipwreck as a baby and taken in by the royal family. so the sea is basically where he came from, just like ariel. ariel rescuing him just makes him even more drawn to the sea/ariel.

they both feel somewhat trapped. eric in his castle feeling misplaced and like he has to be a perfect prince and ariel feels trapped in the ocean. they both just want to escape and believe there is so much more to life than where they currently are.

ariel finding the mermaid figurine in eric’s library and eric saying “my little mermaid” (i SCREAMED internally) 😭 which he then gave it to ariel to keep ❤️

ariel pointing at the aries constellation to show eric what her name is and eventually leading him to correctly say “ariel” to which he replies “that’s a beautiful name” this was the cutest thing and so clever and this moment just has me so giddy i can’t 🥹

ursula making ariel forget that she has to get eric to kiss/fall in love with her in order for her to remain human. so eric/ariel’s relationship is so much more genuine. like we saw eric was about to kiss ariel when they were lying on the boat during “kiss the girl” but ariel got nervous and sat up. ariel just wanted to see eric again when she became human and wanted to get to know him and find out more about him and his world and they ended up falling for each other because of who they are as people and how similar they are to each other

their HEIGHT DIFFERENCE 🙌🥰

when eric slightly touches ariel’s hand as she sings to him after she rescued him

eric getting his own amazing song, “wild uncharted waters” where he sings about not being able to forget about ariel and can’t get her and her voice out of his head (i’m obsessed the way they even feature ariel’s voice on the song… literal chills)

ariel saving eric’s life for the second time when she steers the ship into ursula. she remembers how to steer the ship from when she saw eric on his ship when she saw him for the first time the night she saved him from drowning

when they go off exploring on their day out and they have so much fun with the townspeople, dancing and just being free

then they come back to the castle after falling into the lake and they’re soaked and giggling while hiding from eric’s mother and grimsby

ariel wearing eric’s hat and then she so adorably puts it back on eric’s head as she walks off to her room and eric is so clearly smitten with her

the way eric’s feelings for ariel are so strong that even ursula couldn’t make them disappear despite him being under her spell. he still cared so much for ariel during this and asked where she was

“ariel. it was you all along. i should’ve known.” 😭

eric pleading for them to send out ships to go find ariel after ursula is killed

eric finding ariel’s blue dress in the ocean but then putting it back in the water because he feels she’s gone forever and there’s no way they can be together 💔

eric sitting alone on the steps of his castle thinking about ariel / ariel lying on the rock (when she’s back to being a mermaid) looking at eric’s castle

eric looking up and seeing ariel in her blue dress petting max and he hugs her like he can’t believe she’s real and ariel hugs him so tight and they finally KISSSSS 😭🥰

the two of them getting to go off exploring the world together at the end and are just free to be who they are and go where they want TOGETHER

i could write even more but this is all off the top of my head.

I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR!!!!

[babyflorencee]

Jealousy

Gilbert Blythe x fem!Reader

The sun dipped below the rolling hills of Avonlea, casting an amber glow across the landscape. Gilbert Blythe, with his characteristic disheveled hair and thoughtful gaze, strolled through the orchard, a place that had witnessed the blossoming of friendships and the unveiling of tangled emotions.

Avonlea was abuzz with preparations for the upcoming fair, a festivity Y/n L/n held dear in her heart. As Gilbert walked past the vibrant stalls and fluttering banners, he couldn't help but notice the vivacity in Y/n's step, her eyes sparkling with an enthusiasm that painted the world in hues of her imagination.

Yet, beneath Gilbert's calm exterior, a storm brewed. A quiet jealousy, like an unexpected visitor, had taken residence in his heart. It wasn't the kind born out of malice but rather a realization of the changing dynamics between them.

Yln, oblivious to the tempest within Gilbert, happily chatted with Cole and Diana, her laughter weaving into the summer breeze. As Gilbert observed from a distance, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing on the periphery of her universe.

His heart, usually steady as the Avonlea river, now raced with an unfamiliar cadence. Why did he feel this way? Gilbert grappled with the turmoil, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the fair's prize ribbon he held.

Later that day, under the canopy of stars, Gilbert found himself by the bridge, a place where moments unfolded like chapters in a story. The rhythmic sound of cicadas filled the air as Y/n approached, her gaze alighting upon Gilbert's contemplative silhouette.

"Hey, Gil. Are you alright?" Y/n inquired, a glimmer of concern in her eyes.

The words struggled to find their way out of Gilbert's mouth, but the truth, as elusive as it was, demanded expression. "Y/n, do you ever feel like things are changing, and you're not sure where you fit in anymore?"

Y/ns brow furrowed, a reflection of her confusion. "Change is a constant, Gilbert. But you'll always have a place in my heart. In my world." With the last sentence that left her mouth, her eyes softened, feeling sadness for the boy standing by her.

His heart, still entangled with vines of uncertainty, yearned for more. With a breath held in the quiet night, Gilbert spoke the words that fluttered within. "Y/n, it's not just about the changing world. It's about me, about us. It's about what we could possibly be. I can't stand on the sidelines anymore, y/n. I want to be more than a distant star in your sky."

It was a balm to Gilbert's restless heart, and yet, a lingering question remained unspoken. As they stood on the bridge, the moon casting its silver glow upon the water, the bond between them seemed to shimmer with an understanding beyond words.

Y/n's eyes widened, finally realizing the gravity of his confession. "Gilbert..."

Before she could say more, he took a step closer, his hand cupping her cheek. "I can't hold back any longer," he admitted, and in the soft glow of moonlight, he kissed her.

Their lips met, a silent promise of untold emotions and uncharted paths. The orchard witnessed the quiet culmination of a friendship blossoming into something more, as the stars overhead continued their timeless dance. In that stolen moment, Gilbert and Y/n discovered a new chapter in the story of Avonlea—a chapter written with ink that glistened with unspoken feelings.

[p0orbaby]

Hi, was wondering if you could write an Alessia Russo x fem reader where reader is a rugby player so Alessia for the first time is dating someone taller than her?

(A warning I did send this request to another page but that was six months ago so I’m assuming they are not gonna write it 😅. If it makes you uncomfortable let me know btw)

Different Perspectives

warnings: suggestive (who’d have guessed it)

a/n: rugby is not my bag but I hope you still like it!

word count: 780

-

Alessia is tall. That’s just a fact. Her presence on and off the football pitch isn’t just about skill; it’s accentuated by her stature. At five foot nine, she’s a force to be reckoned with, both in the competitive world of football and in the everyday challenges that come with being head and shoulders above the crowd.

Yet, amidst the cheers of the stadium and the victories on the pitch, she faces an unexpected challenge – a change in perspective that comes with falling in love. When she meets someone whose gaze meets hers without craning their neck, Alessia Russo, the formidable footballer, discovers the uncharted territory of being the small one in the relationship.

In the afterglow of another triumphant match, Alessia basks in the admiration of her teammates. As she catches her breath and revels in the crowd’s cheers, Katie leans against the stadium railing, grinning happily at their winning result. It doesn’t take her long to spot you, Katie nudges her playfully. “She’s tall,” Katie mentions, eyeing you from her spot. “Like, really tall”

Alessia glances at you, then smirks at Katie. “You’re the one stating the obvious, as always. Care to tell me why?”

Katie winks, “Just wondering what it’s like to have a partner who doesn’t need a step stool to reach the top shelf. Must be a nice change in direction for you”

Alessia laughs, rolling her eyes. “Oh, very funny. I’ll have you know that love isn’t measured in height”

Katie nudges her again, “I wonder if she’s brought binoculars. You know, just in case…”

Alessia sighs, shaking her head. “You’re enjoying this far too much for someone who’s about four inches shorter than me”

“That I am,” she admits. “What position does she play again?”

“Lock” Lessia answers readily.

“What are we talking about?” Another voice joins in on the conversation.

“Less’ talk drink of water over there” Katie informs, and Beth turns her head in the direction she’s pointing. “She's a lock, in case you were wondering”

“Ohh, tall and strong. You’re a very lucky girl Russo”

Alessia’s face inflames. Her cheeks turning red at her teammates teasing. “Thanks for that, you two. Really, just what I needed”

Katie smirks, “c’mon, don’t act like you’re not taking advantage of it! You were tall once, might as well cash in the credit you’ve banked over the years”

“Oh, yeah, because my life has obviously become one endless game of ‘can you reach that for me?’”

“Why not!” Beth exclaims. “I get Viv to do things for me all the time. ‘Hey babe, can you just grab this from the tippy top shelf? I can’t quite reach’”

“She gets validation, and you reap the rewards, if you get my gist” Katie winks.

“And that’s my cue to leave! I’m walking away now!” Alessia announces as she turns on her heels, heading towards you, more than ready to leave that conversation behind.

“There she is” you call when she’s close, “my talented girl”

She’s semi conscious of the way she has to tilt her neck upwards to kiss you. Imagining the girls teasing her behind her back. But when you grab the back of her neck to keep her right where you wanted her, all previous embarrassment fades away.

She loves the way you kiss the top of her head when you pull her in for a hug.

She melts at how your jacket swamps her shoulders when you wrap her up after games.

Hell, she’d even admit to how she secretly always wanted to be the little spoon.

There’s an ease to the way she fits into the curve of your embrace. A calm it brings to her that she didn’t realise she was missing out on.

“For the record, you wouldn’t be the only one benefiting from the rewards” you whisper into her mouth.

She pulls back, eyes wide as she looks up at you when you stand to your full height. “You heard that?”

You nod and hum, tucking some of her loose hairs behind her ear. “Your friends are painfully loud,” you laugh.

“I hate them,” she groans.

“No you don’t”. you say, the corners of your lips lifting in amusement. “Besides, you can’t tell me you haven’t at least thought about it”

She smirks, “Maybe a little, now they’ve mentioned it”

At her words you bend down and lift her up by the back of the legs. Her arms coming up to wrap around your neck. Whilst her legs sit on your waist.

“Me too,” you admit, letting the laughter settle into a comfortable silence as you hold her close, the gaggle of friends and fans fading into the background.

[missblissy]

Little Things! Astarion x Reader HCs

A/n: 😤😤 I’m just gonna say it, ya’ll don’t have enough casual domestic relationship headcanons in these tags. To much smut. Y’all need some water, come up for air or something good god I love y’all but drink some fucking water 😂 So have some HCs of Tav and Astarion in Act 1. GN! Tav with no class/race as always UwU Also thank you so much for all the likes and kind words on my last post! I plan on opening my requests soon so be sure to follow to stay updated on when that happens. 💖☺️ Enjoy!

Was it even possible for someone to be annoyed… and pleased at the same time? Could a contradiction even exist? Yes. It could. And it baffled Astarion. Sure you had a pretty face, a nice laugh, a way with words… A shimmer in your eyes… a crooked grin that barely broke a smirk… The faint and unmissable sound of your heart beat… A smell so signature he could pick it up in the subtle breeze.

Just with the shift of wind and now he was tossing and turning in his tent. Huffing and throwing his blanket over half his face. Thoughts racing with you now, all the way on the other side of camp and no where near him. Not even in his sight. And still you were in his mind.

How annoying. This was just a misguided, maybe even a malicious attempt at forging an alliance. So why did he feel so… bad? His red eyes couldn’t close so he just stared at the fabric wall of his tent. A blank but also bitter stare on his face.

Out of all the books he read, and he read a lot, none of them actually showed him what real was. What was real passion? Not the mask he wore. What was real conviction and adoration? All he knew was what he’s done for centuries. And this was nothing but uncharted and unfamiliar territory.

So why was it your delightful and diluted scent in the wind alone just enough to send him reeling? He couldn’t know, or didn’t dare to wonder.

These little things didn’t stop there. During the day you’d bounce up to him with a skip in your step… that equally would send a skip right into his ribs and tore up his lungs. With big bright eyes you’d show him something random, something you found, something you made… it didn’t matter.

Just the way you beamed with a radiant smile the sun could be jealous of, it was enough for a snide back handed comment that could be confused for a flirt, “Oh darling, for me? You shouldn’t have, you might just be one of my most devoted fans,” Normally a line like this worked. Either it would send the conversation towards the bedroom or someone left standing alone.

Neither happened. You just rolled your eyes, gave a little laugh and said, “A fan? In your dreams,” And go on chatting like before, unfazed by his little remarks. You were an enigma to him.

Especially during times after a battle. It was always such a gentle touch, when you’d place a hand on his shoulder and praise him for his good work and efforts in the battle.

If vampires had blood to blush he would. He didn’t understand why he wanted to hear more of it, “That was a good job you did out there today,” or maybe it was the way you said, “You did amazing,” He could listen to praises all day. He never knew how much he enjoyed them before.

Let’s not forget, he could hear your heartbeat. Not yours alone. Everyone had a different rhythm and rhyme. For instants Shadowheart, her heart was slow, sad, faint but still beating away with life. Astarion could hear it, just the same as Lae’zel who seemingly had no heart beat at all until the surprising thumb of it came every hour or so. He could hear yours too. Rattle away within your bones. And he paid close attention.

Normally these ‘skills’ of listening to hearts were used to hunt out a target for his master. But with no master and a band of fools, he still used these skills unbeknownst to himself.

He’d listen with eyes glued to a book. You’re heart pitter pattered like any other. But sometimes it’d start racing, picking up speed. Not to long ago a racing heart was the first step into picking a target, since the heart never lies and when a fool looked Astarion’s way if their heart sang that song he knew who would be his unfortunate soul.

But no, this time he just peered from over his book and watched you stare off into the distance, into the darkness of the woods. To his surprise there wasn’t a glance his way or even at anyone. Your heart only raced for fear it seemed. Even when you looked at him or shared a conversation, the same steady beat flowed.

It was something little like this, these little things only he knew as they festered in his mind. They ached within him. He hid it well but it wretched at his organs and plucked at his fibers every time. It was annoying. It was… wonderful…

It was terrifying. The way his breathe would catch when you’d ask him to join you. The way he actually felt anger, as petty as it was, when you asked him to stay back at camp.

Or maybe when he’d hear just the sound of your voice, distant on the other side of camp, muffled, not even loud enough to hear what you were saying but just enough to hear your voice. How strange that something so little as that was enough to ease him into sleep.

[x-uno]

Hey! Do you think you could make a OPLA!Zoro x reader but like fluff to angst something like that?? You can do whatever you want be creative :) thank you! XOXO

Silent Longing.

Pairing: OPLA!zoro x reader

| 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

In the quiet corners of our hearts, there often exists a hidden treasure, a secret admiration that we dare not speak aloud. It's a tale told in hushed tones, a whisper to the universe, a confession to no one but ourselves.

"You have to stop being stupid and risking your life, Y/N," Zoro grumbled, his gruff voice cutting through the stillness of the night. "You're lucky I saved your ass in time."

His words, though laced with irritation, were a stark reminder of the genuine worry he held for your well-being. 

You couldn't help but smile, a mix of gratitude and longing in your eyes as you met his gaze. "I guess I owe you one, Zoro."

He shifted uncomfortably, the weight of your words sinking in. "Just don't make a habit out of it. We need every hand on deck."

A wry smile tugged at your lips as you leaned against the railing of the Going Merry, gazing at the starry sky that stretched endlessly before you. "Heh, worried about me?"

Zoro, who had been standing nearby, turned his head away, his face hidden in the shadows. "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not worried about you."

"Whatever you say, mosshead," you retorted, using the nickname you knew he secretly tolerated.

As the stars continued their silent dance overhead, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Zoro. His profile was bathed in moonlight, revealing the scars that adorned his rugged face. There was a magnetic allure to him, an irresistible enigma that had drawn you in from the moment you joined the crew.

In these moments of secret admiration, we become silent observers, watching from afar, admiring the beauty or brilliance that has captured our attention. We find ourselves drawn to qualities that resonate with our own desires and aspirations.

"You know, Zoro," you began, your voice soft, "sometimes I wonder if the Grand Line has as many mysteries as you do."

Zoro's eyes, ever watchful, shifted in your direction. "What's that supposed to mean?"

You shrugged, your gaze returning to the stars. "Just that you're a man of many layers, and I feel like there's so much about you I don't know."

A hint of a smirk played at the corner of Zoro's lips, though he still avoided making direct eye contact. "You think you can figure me out, Y/N?"

You chuckled, your heart feeling oddly light in this moment of vulnerability. "I don't know, Zoro. But I'd sure like to try."

In the days that followed, your interactions with Zoro remained a delicate dance of unspoken sentiments. The crew sailed through uncharted waters, facing perilous challenges and ferocious adversaries, yet the magnetic pull between you and the swordsman remained a constant presence.

There were moments when Zoro would surprise you, whether it was offering a hand to steady you on a rocky path or sharing a rare smile when no one else was looking. Those moments became the source of both your greatest hope and deepest despair.

"Y/N, watch your step," Zoro's voice broke through the tension in the air as you navigate the treacherous, narrow ledge on a seemingly endless mountain path. His strong hand reached out, fingers grazing your arm gently to ensure your balance.

You couldn't help but glance at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Thank you, Zoro."

His gaze met yours for a fraction of a second before he turned away, his expression unreadable. "Don't mention it."

The ambiguity of his actions gnawed at your soul like a relentless storm. Did he see you as nothing more than a comrade? Or was there a chance, however slim, that he felt something deeper?

In the quiet of your own thoughts, you replayed those instances, dissecting each one for hidden meaning. But in the end, you couldn't escape the truth that hung over your heart like a storm cloud: Zoro's actions, no matter how seemingly significant, remained shrouded. 

-

"Zoro, do you ever wonder what keeps us going? What's the point of it all?"

"We have our goals. We chase them. That's all."

"But what about... other dreams? What if there's something or someone you care about more?"

He didn't answer right away, and you could feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. When he finally spoke, his voice was like a blade, cutting through the silence.

"Dreams like that are for fools, Y/N. They lead to nothing but pain."

''Oh.''

But, of course, it was an inevitable truth that in the depths of our souls, unrequited love resided, an agonizing ache we concealed beneath stoic masks.. It's a silent longing that beats like a quiet drum, an unspoken declaration that remains locked within.

A  bittersweet melody that plays in the chambers of our hearts. We yearn for the love we give to be mirrored back, but fate has different plans. It's an unspoken story, a love unfulfilled, a heart that beats out of sync with the world.

 "But isn't pain a part of life, Zoro? It's what makes us feel alive, isn't it?"

Zoro clenched his jaw, frustration evident in his tense posture. "Feeling alive, huh? That's overrated. Life's about survival, not getting caught up in pointless emotions."

"But what if it's not pointless? What if it's what gives life meaning?"

Zoro's gaze bore into yours, and for a moment, it seemed as though he was about to reveal something hidden deep within himself. "Y/N, I've seen what happens when people get too attached to their dreams, to others. They lose focus. They get distracted. And then, they fall."

You felt a pang in your chest, a mixture of frustration and a growing sense of desperation. "But Zoro, isn't there something you care about? Someone you'd do anything for?"

Zoro's expression hardened, and he turned his gaze away from you. "I have my crew. They're my dream, my goal. Nothing else matters."

The silence hung heavy between you, a palpable tension that refused to dissipate. Your heart ached with the desire to break through Zoro's stoic exterior, to understand what lay beneath his tough facade.

"Zoro," You whispered, their voice barely audible, "sometimes, dreams change. Sometimes, they evolve into something more beautiful than we could have ever imagined. And sometimes, letting someone in doesn't make you weak; it makes you stronger."

Zoro's eyes flickered, a hint of vulnerability briefly surfacing before he buried it deep within. "I don't have time for distractions, Y/N. I won't let anything or anyone get in the way of my goal."

A tragedy it was, a love so profound it felt like both a blessing and a curse. To love someone with a depth that threatened to consume every fiber of your being, yet knowing that you could never truly be his was a torment that tore at the soul.

It was a love that coursed through your veins like a bittersweet poison, intoxicating your senses and clouding your judgment. Every stolen glance, every stolen moment, was a reminder of the forbidden nature of your desires. And yet, you could not help but yearn for more, to risk everything for the chance to be near them, to feel their presence like a lifeline in a world that seemed determined to keep you apart.

The very thought of  him was a constant ache, a haunting melody that played in the recesses of your mind. 

And yet, you knew that to pursue this love would be to court disaster, to dance on the precipice of ruin. The world had conspired to place insurmountable barriers between you, and the consequences of crossing those lines were too dire to contemplate.

So, you loved him in silence.

taglist: reply to be added !

© 2023 x-uno ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. 

[moongreenlight]

Nanny!Reader x John Price hnnnnngh

Tw/Cw: Cheating, mentions of drug use and abuse.

@ceilidho put the words ‘marriage kink’ and ‘ambiguous gray blob wife’ into my head and it has been eating away at my psyche for DAYS.

The Maddie from Euphoria of it all, honestly.

Getting the job through a Craigslist ad because it pays better than some of the office jobs you’d been perusing and it comes with free housing and a car to use? It’s a no brainer.

The kids are alright. Spoiled, but not entirely obnoxious. They’re school-age, so you really only deal with them for breakfast and a few hours after school. Their mother is absent. Some sort of philanthropist who travels for work and prefers to jet-set instead of sitting home. Their father is lovely. Truly picture perfect.

He only brought you on because he couldn’t step away from work, and he wouldn’t hear of sending his children to some daycare. Too impersonal. He prefers to get to know the person raising his cubs. He’s sweet like that.

John doesn’t expect much of you. Decently tidy house. Well-tended kin. A pot of coffee in the morning before he’s off to work, and a hot supper if he’s home late.

Leaves you to your own devices while the kids are at school. What’s his is yours. At first, you mainly stuck to your quarters and the living room, but after so long, you got a little lax.

Started wandering the house. Awfully fucking big for a philanthropist and a military man with three kids, but you’re not one to speculate. You try out the hot tub. The jacuzzi bath in the primary en-suite bathroom. The home gym in the basement.

Even that gets boring after some time. Too routine. So you get adventurous. Get your paws on the mother's medicine cabinet. Take a cocktail of her nearly expired prescriptions and take a few hours to yourself in the bath.

You must have fallen asleep, because the snap of a door closing makes you jerk your head up off the cold rim of the tub.

"Hello?" You're trying to figure out who exactly would be home. Scrambling to yank the plug out of the drain with one hand and track down your phone with the other. Suddenly very worried you slept through school pickup.

But when your pruny fingers finally swatted at the screen hard enough, you were grateful to see you'd only really dozed off for twenty minutes or so. Still no response even though you were fairly certain you heard the door come from somewhere upstairs with you.

"Someone home?"

The drain was loud. A dead giveaway of your neglecting your job. Gargling as it sucked away the evidence of your lavender-scented bath. What's worse? You'd forgotten a towel. Mind fogged by some desperate housewives-adjacent combination of stimulants and muscle relaxers.

You nudged the bathroom door open with a dripping wet toe, poked your head out to see what was going on. Seeing nobody, you decided that maybe you were just hearing things. Just the house settling.

So you inched forward, cringing at the trail of wet footprints you were leaving on the carpet of John's bedroom floor. You made a mental note to tidy those somehow before you went to get the kids. It wasn't until you were out on the walk over the living room that you heard someone clearing their throat in the kitchen.

It made you whirl your head around, scrambling to cover your modesty as best you could. Maybe it was a contractor? John had a bad habit of not reminding you that his buddies were coming over to do some project or another.

"That how you dress when you've got the place to yourself?"

You wouldn't be so lucky.

"J-John?"

A chuff from just beyond the wall downstairs. Strategically positioning himself where he could see, but wouldn't be seen.

"I-I didn't know you'd be home. God- I'm so sorry."

You weren't sure if it was better to run to your room or stay where you were. This was uncharted waters, after all.

A tsk, like he was sucking his teeth to keep the smile from creeping into his voice.

"In my room?"

Your mouth is painfully dry. You can't even manage to swallow.

"I'm so sorry, John. So sorry."

"Why don't you dry off and then we'll chat?"

[buttdumplin]

One week post hysterectomy and you're ready to pull out your hair and theirs. Ale and Rudy can help.

cw: poly!141 x transmasc latine!reader, established relationship, mexican slang, spanish-speaking reader word count: 1620

You don’t often have to remind yourself how much you love your partners, how you cherish them, because it comes so naturally. But with the hovering and the near constant check-ins and the way they won’t let you even walk on your own, you have to recite a mantra about it so you don’t pull out your own hair.

“Yall realize that 6-8 weeks of recovery does not mean 6-8 weeks of being bed bound, right?”

John is almost too quick to answer, “Hasn’t even been a full week yet. You need to take it slow.”

“None of you ever take it this slow when you’re injured.”

“None of us have to deal with that major of a surgery usually.”

There’s plenty of pillows around you, you can chuck one at his head without it affecting your posture. You spend a second looking for the right one to throw, but the pillows John bought you are slightly bigger than what you can currently lift. Motherfucker has the gall to grin at you, proud of himself.

Needing to at least exit the room, you wiggle around in the nest of pillows as much as you can without hurting yourself. A too hard lunge makes you gasp and Simon appears at your side, reaching in with strong arms to pull you free from the tender trap. You sit him down once you’re on your feet, motioning for him to stay there. You can make the walk to the bathroom. You should make the walk to the bathroom. You need to make the walk to the bathroom.

“Remember not to strain yourself,” he calls from the bed, edge in his voice making it clear that he’s only barely able to stay where you left him.

Any other time, any other one of them, you’d be turning and mocking them with an “okay mom.” In fact, you still want to with all the careful tiptoeing, but when you turn and find those big brown eyes full of soft concern, the anger dissipates. Simon is in uncharted waters, feeling helpless and clinging to what he can do for you. His hands clutch the bedding under him, knuckles turned white.

You answer him softly, “I will Moncho, thank you.”

As silent as he is, you know he’s standing outside the door the moment you close it, waiting for your call should you need him. It’s usually not a problem, but having to swear to no locked doors for the foreseeable future makes you move carefully in the bathroom. The last thing you need right now is to grunt a little too loudly and scare Simon. 

“You know you don’t all have to stay housebound, right?” you try to keep your tone friendly as you open the door. “Yall can take turns stepping out for groceries or snacks.”

“Everything delivers now, love,” Kyle sounds a little too smiley for your liking right now.

“I just don’t want yall to get bored, cooped up.”

Johnny’s laughter drifts in from the kitchen, “Please, we’d stay home every day if we could. Delighted we can now.”

There has to be fucking something. They’re sweet, they’re lovely. The surgery and recovery would be impossible without them. But there has the be some fucking way to not have all eyes on you every minute of every day. You ease back into the plush nest made for you, trying to drum something up. Thankfully, the sound of the doorbell saves you from spiraling deeper into your frustration.

“Damn, yall really did order everything for delivery.”

Johnny sprints for the door, excitement in his eyes, “This might be one of the things we ordered for you specifically.”

Swear to god, if they ordered more of those impossible compression socks, they’re never gonna hear the end of it. At least it’s been a good day. You’ve got clean sheets and bedding, you showered with little to no pain (Simon insisted on joining you to help), and the incision sites are healing well. The bladder pain you could do without, though. 

“Special delivery,” a new voice sings. Two?

“Ale! Fito!” you surge forward to stand, but too many men shouting in protest sits you back down. “What are yall doing here?”

They make their way through the pillows to greet you properly, facial hair rasping against your cheek. Thank fuck for that shower earlier. Can’t be too mad about this being orchestrated now. 

Ale smiles bright, plopping down next to you, “Un pajarito medio nalgón-”

“Cuatro,” Rudy interrupts, taking a seat much more gently, “Cuatro pajaritos bastante nalgones.” 

“Simón, Simón. Cuatro nos pidieron un favor.”

“We did say ‘special delivery’.”

They each place a white box in front of you. No labels or tape, just folded closed gently. The folded pieces bloom open in their hands, revealing a giant ziploc bag full of lots of little somethings in each. You can make out little star and flower shapes, all coated in a clumping white powder.

“Are these my tía’s cookies?” 

Ale sucks his teeth, wrapping an arm around you, “Clarín cornetas, mi niño.”

“Which of you did she flirt with?”

“Both,” Rudy chuckles, “We got that bordertown charm.”

It’s then that you remember your tía’s bordertown and their bordertown are on opposite sides of Texas. Not only did they have to deal with her shameless flirting for who knows how long, sweet fools must have gone so far out of their way to get these. And the sheer care they must have put into the transportation. These cookies are frail and yet so few of them are broken. They even accounted for the lard used in them, little ice packs peek out from underneath the large ziploc bags. Tears blur your vision, their voices going out of focus as they give you updates on your family.

“There is one condition though,” Rudy hands you a tissue. “One bag is for you, and the other is for them to share.”

Johnny comes running in from the kitchen again, “Wait, just one for all four of us?”

“That’s what Tití said.”

“Fuck, I really thought she liked us,” Johnny stands completely still for a minute, clearly reviewing the interactions they’ve had with your tía in his mind, cookies forgotten. 

Kyle takes their bag, diving into it immediately and coating his chin in the powdered sugar falling from the cookie. It doesn’t take long for the other 3 to converge around the bag after that. They’ve only had these cookies once before, at your youngest cousin’s quince, which was full of too many “so exactly how are you related?” questions. Your tía says she saves them for special occasions, but you know that the labor that goes into making them is too much for the cookies to be in regular rotation. Either way, they’re a true gift. Your cousins must have helped her this time, the start and flower shapes are just off enough to not fit into your tía’s perfectionism. It won’t take a whole lot of convincing to get Simon to use his fancy calligraphy to write them a thank-you note.

“We were also promised grilled goods upon arrival?” Ale speaks loudly over the cookie commotion.

John perks up at that, faint surprise on his face.

Kyle makes an excited noise around a mouthful of cookie, speaking from the corner of his mouth, “Right, and we’ve got everything set for the chef.” He wrangles John towards the backyard. 

Simon looks worried as Johnny approaches him, clearly meaning to take him to the backyard as well. He’s been firmly by your side since they brought you home from the hospital. He looks over at you, tracing your figure slowly, double-checking every inch of you. Taking a deep breath, he stiffens.

“We’ll look after your boy,” Rudy says softly.

“Aquí te espero, amor.”

He nods, your words enough to ease him through the door. 

With all the prep before the surgery, a couple of really intense weeks where you all worked to prime the house for recovery, this is the first chance you’ve gotten to exist without them being in the same room. And it’s so fucking nice. You couldn’t ask for better partners, but it’s almost relieving to not have to worry about accidentally setting one of them off and launching them into motherhenning. Rudy and Ale have clearly been given the task of looking after you, but even just having new faces to talk to is refreshing.

“Which one of them set this up?” you ask them.

“It was less a request and more a suggestion from us,” Rudy says.

“Bien los conocemos,” Ale adds. “Te quejas, pero bien chiple que te tienen.”

You grin, not even trying to deny it.

It’s muted, but the sounds of the boys chatting drifts into the room. Some back and forth about marinating and time, some laughing about sneaking around. You can’t quite see them from your window, but it’s reassuring to know that this time is helping them relax as well. 

Ale and Rudy tell you more about their trip to visit your tía, passing along the greetings and well wishes your family sent you. It’s an easy rhythm: one talks, the other corrects, and you get to giggle as you listen. Then you swap: you talk, Ale listens, Rudy shushes him. It’s soothing in a way that reminds you so much of home, the ruckus everywhere and laughter echoing. When the tension in your shoulders has finally slipped away, Ale turns to you, curious and serious.

“So about this recovery period,” he says.

“And a grueling schedule before the surgery?” mischief lights Rudy’s eyes.

You groan, their cackling drowning out the sound of you swatting at their chests. 

[sugarsnappeases]

i need to know what u think about jily

hi....... the only way that jily interests me is A) when they try so so hard to make things work for years but ultimately decide they need to go their separate ways or B) when one or both of them dies, like in canon but also esp. when lily kills james and maybe harry too <33

in this essay, i will discuss option A but if you want there is MUCH to discuss for option B........

for me. jily is like. james who is in love with the idealised version of lily that he created when he was like eleven and decided that she was going to be the love of his life and they were going to have their happily ever after forever and ever amen. the lily he loves is one he made up over years of pining and one that ultimately does not exist. lily, similarly, isn't so much in love with james but with what he represents and what that means for her. he's what everyone expects, a good, well-off man who can provide and care for her and who has been loudly declaring his love for her for years. he's something solid and the inevitable next step in her life and their relationship is a kind of wartime whirlwind spurred on by the feeling that maybe they're running out of time (they are) and by the fact that as far as everyone is concerned, they're perfect for each other.

i think a lot about them during those long months in hiding, just them and baby harry and the realisation that maybe they don't actually know each other all that well or have anything to say to each other or all that much in common. they've never really spent a lot of time one-on-one before. i imagine those months as very quiet and very lonely and filled with a lot of revelations about their relationship that they tell themselves they'll deal w when the war is over. obvs in canon that never happens.

in a non-canon context, i think they're both incredibly stubborn, and convinced that they're right for each other and this is the life they want, and, without the isolation that arose from their specific war-time circumstances, it would take them a long time to realise that their marriage is built on the foundation of fundamentally failing to understand and see each other for who they are. and even when they do realise this, it takes a long time for either of them to do anything about it bc, like i said, stubborn, but also. terrified of what it means if the one thing that's always felt certain and inevitable, is falling to pieces around them. they're scared of those uncharted waters, and also a little embarrassed, and also entirely horrified at what's become of them. they're clinging to the broken pieces of the façade that was their relationship.

i think this is also a very internal thing, in terms of like each of them internally, but also mainly in terms of the breakdown of their marriage mostly taking place behind closed doors, in their house, where it's just the two of them (and baby harry) and there's no one to perform in front of. and they argue and they cry and they try to hold things together and eventually they both come to the realisation that they can't do it anymore, no matter how scary and unknown whatever comes next is, and quietly go through the process of a divorce. their relationship begins with bright swirling colours and loud glittering celebration and a kind of manufactured joy and ends with a messy kind of honesty, and closure even if i kinda think they'll never fully understand each other, and horror & guilt & anger & fear about the time wasted and the times to come...... so.........

[rabbits-sin-den]

Gojo x Reader

Summary: Gojo disappears after you say I love you. So you punish him.

Minors: DNI

"Today's the day." I said to myself in the mirror.

It was our two-year anniversary. I'd been anticipating this one because today was going to be the day I said I love you. Neither of us have said it before which meant I would be the one diving into uncharted waters first. I was nervous on principal but based on the fact he's said everything but (mentioned a future together, asked about rings, got terminally jealous anytime someone else looked at me) I felt pretty confident he felt the same way.

I went to dinner and everything went swimmingly. We reminisced. We joked, laughed, and paid for our dinner. When he tried to invite himself into my apartment. I stopped him.

"I have work tomorrow and you don't know the meaning of moderation."

"Just quit already.” he whined.

"It's one more week. I might as well finish it out."

He whined some more and I teased him a bit before I finally took the plunge.

"I love you." I said. "I um....I wanted to make sure I said that."

Silence.

The longer it went on, the more nervous I felt. When I looked up, Satoru was looking away. When I was about to ask what was wrong he took a step back and disappeared. I blinked, dumbfounded. My heart pounded in my chest. As the shock wore off it seeped into anger and sadness. I went inside my house and closed the door, sinking to the ground.

He doesn't love me back.

The next few days were a blur. I was heartbroken. I even looked up new apartments to move into. I couldn't exactly keep him out of my house but I could move. Was it dramatic? Yes. Was I going to give myself the opportunity to just forget what happened and let myself be strung along? No. For the past two days the endless cuddles, kisses and passionate nights plagued me. I was almost happy I could work this week. At the end of Wednesday, my boss walked up to me with an oddly apprehensive expression on his face.

"You don't have to finish out the week." He said.

"Huh?"

"You don't have to finish out the week. Letting you off the hook early since you have two days of PTO accrued."

"Did I...mess up?"

"No. But you look like you need a break." He said.

I mean I guess the "eyes swollen from crying every night" look wasn't awesome to look at every day but he also didn’t care about things like that. So what’s happening?

He cleared his throat, looked meaningfully at my desk before walking away. There wasn’t any arguing it. I didn't want to sit at home and think but I didn't have the energy to go out either. I packed up my stuff and took the train home. When I entered the apartment. There Satoru was, looking relieved to see me. I glared at him.

"Get out."

He blinked in surprise.

"What happened?" He asked.

What happened?? Fuck you dude.

"I'm not interested in this game you're playing." I said while putting down my bag and taking off my jacket.

"What game?"

"The game where you pretend you didn't brush me off when I said I loved you." I seethed. "The game where I pretend that you didn't fucking hurt me."

My voice cracked at the end and I could feel the tears coming.

"I love you too." He said.

Bullshit.

"Too late."

"I...."

I peeked at him and he looked sheepish which wasn't like him. Guess he knew how badly he fucked up.

"I left like that because if I didn't I wasn't going to be able to let you go to work." He said.

I ignored him and looked into the fridge for some leftover comfort food.

"You got off work early for the week right?"

I paused.

"How did you know that?"

"I threatened and bribed your boss."

"...What."

Satoru walked over toward me.

"When you said I love you I...." He walked toward me and trapped me against the counter. "Even now, just thinking about it, I want to..." He got closer and I felt something hard pressing against me. "I want to ruin you for anyone else."

I finally braved a look at his eyes and even though I was pissed there was no mistaking that look. His eyes were dark with hunger and barely restrained possessiveness. There were a couple of nights when I got to see a glimpse of this look. Usually, after someone was a little too flirty with me or a random day where he snapped after not getting enough affection.

"You really hurt me." I said.

"I'm sorry." He said, leaning down and kissing me.

I could tell where this was going so I broke it off.

"How sorry are you?"

"Incredibly."

"Then make it up to me.” I said. “And I decide how you’ll do it.”

If I leave it up to him I’ll wake up with a brand new car and an apartment full of flowers. 

I sent him away while thinking of what could possibly make me forgive him for the past few days of hell he put me through. At first, nothing came to mind because nothing was enough. He seriously broke my heart. But it was also his first serious offense besides the cat thing. The apartment was filled with memories and evidence of his affection. The custom couch for he exclusively bought to cuddle more comfortably. The stolen kisses in the kitchen. The random gifts he’s given over the years.

But I don’t want to get played.

After a lot of deliberation I decided I can forgive this. Not before a little revenge though. I wanted him to suffer but not in a way that hurt him. An idea popped in my head and I smiled and pulled up the computer.

Friday morning when I was in the bath, he knocked on the door. When gave him permission he opened it. Satoru stood there in a maid outfit awaiting my orders. He looked confused but didn't dare complain. I stared at him for a bit before smiling at him. I sat up and turned my back to him.

"Wash my back and massage my shoulders while you're at it."

He walked forward and I held a hand up.

"What do servants say to their masters after an order."

"...Yes Ma'am."

"Good."

He came over and did as he was ordered. He was surprisingly good at what he does. I let myself make satisfied noises, enjoying the way he tensed up after each one.

"Thank you. That's enough. Start cleaning the kitchen and living room."

"Yes, Ma'am."

He left the bathroom and I contemplated what outfit would make this hardest on him. Probably me standing out there naked but I didn't have the guts for that. Plus it would be cold. I got out of the bath, draining it. After several minutes of deliberation, I decided staying in a towel might be best. He glanced at me, stiffened then resumed cleaning while avoiding me. I sat on the living room couch and turned on the TV.

"When you're done, come over here and kneel on the floor."

I didn't leave much for him to clean so within the hour he was in front of me kneeling. I got up and inspected the kitchen. He even got inside the fridge. Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure Satoru knew how to clean given his upbringing. I returned to the couch, sat down, and examined him. His skirt was slightly lifted from his half-hard erection.

"You did a good job in the kitchen. So you do have a little common sense."

I pressed my foot onto his cock and he jolted. His body trembled as I slowly put pressure up and down his shaft.

"So what were you thinking on our anniversary?"

"I wasn't." He replied.

"Exactly. You were thinking with this..." I pressed harder and he grunted. "Instead of thinking how that would affect who you're with."

"I'm sorry." He said breathlessly.

His hips started moving and I removed my foot.

"You're not off the hook yet." I said then I held out a vibrator that can be strapped to his dick. "Put this on."

I handed it to him and he glanced at me. He lifted the skirt up, putting it in his mouth, and revealed his unfairly pretty cock. I kept my face impassive as he slid the little ring over his shaft. He looked at me and I clicked the remote. His eyes widened and in his shock, he dropped the skirt, his body tensing up.

"You're going to do my laundry," I said. " And that's staying on till you finish. If you cum that's it." I said.

He nodded and got up. I clicked my teeth and he looked at me, eyes swimming with desire.

"What do you say?"

I could see a wild look building in his eyes.

"Yes master."

I waved him off ignoring how the change in title made me feel. I supervised him while he washed the clothes. It was the most out of control I'd ever seen him. In the middle of movements, I'd increase the intensity, causing his body to jerk. I'd lower it to the lowest volume then rapidly increase it while he was watching the washer. His breathing got heavier as time went on and while the thick tented fabric covered it, I knew he was slick with precum. His hands gripped onto whatever it could like a lifeline. After two hours he was done.

He looked at me, eyes silently begging me for some kind of release.

I picked up one of my underwear from the clean pile and walked over to him. I lifted up his skirt and sure enough, his heavy cock dripped with need. I used the underwear the clean up the mess and then threw it in the washer.

"You've got one more load to do." I said before sitting back where I was.

When the machine got going he walked over to me. I glanced up at him and he bowed his head. I flinched when he dropped to his knees and held my hand.

"I'm sorry for hurting you..." He said softly. "And I want to make it up to you."

He spread my legs slightly.

"May I?"

I was at my limit anyway.

"Sure. At my pace."

I laid down and the second his tongue pressed to my center I gasped. He immediately got to work, running his tongue over my clit and working his fingers in and out. Loud moans rained out of my mouth and I couldn't catch my breath from the onslaught. When I caught a glimpse of his face, the calculated sharpness in his eyes, I realized...I got played.

He got up, towering over me while shoving the vibrating ring further down his cock. He pressed the vibrating piece against my clit causing both of us to curse. His breath was shaky as he rubbed his dick up and down my slit.

"I wanna serve my master." He said with a shaky voice. "Please let me serve you."

You just wanna get off you bastard.

But fuck I wanted to get off too.

I nodded and he immediately inserted himself inside in one swoop. I turned my head to the side as I tried to adjust to the sudden fullness. He moved and I cried out as his cock brushed a spot that made my head spin. He increased the pace, wanton moans filling the air as he got some relief. Every thrust was a shot of pleasure. Loud slaps mixed with our moans as the pleasure started to build. Satoru leaned in, hitting a deeper angle. My back arched as I whined, clenching around him. His tip slammed into that wonderful spot over and over and over.

"Ah-!" I gasped as he slammed down a little harder.

I closed my eyes for a bit and Satoru picked up my hips making me match his pace. My whole body tingled. I was over the moon. I glanced between us and all I could see was a filthy mess. I was in love.

"No one else..." He said with a shaky breath. "I'll make sure of it..."

"Sa-..I-I'm-!"

"Come on my cock, master." He commanded in a guttural tone.

The tension snapped and I threw my head back as I came. My body twitched as he kept fucking me through my orgasm. He never let up, not for a second. His hips stuttered as he came inside me, thrusting deep inside with a victorious look. When he calmed down, he poorly feigned innocence.

"Oh no. I came without your permission." He said, using my finger to press down on the remote.

He was still inside me so both of us jumped from the vibrations. His body shivered as a blissed out look went over his face. He looked down, a sinister smile was on full display as he slowly started thrusting again.

"Looks like you'll have to punish me."

I shuddered and twitched every time the vibrator at the end of his cock brushed my clit. Even though it was too much, I couldn’t bring myself to push him off. Through the intense sensitivity the pleasure started to build again.

“You should’ve been turned into a snake.” I stuttered out.

He caressed my cheek.

“I love you too. I meant that.” He said softly.

”I’m not saying it back until I forgive you.” I pouted.

”I’m willing to put in the work.” He smiled.

The laundry machine beeped, making both of us jump. “Start by hanging up the underwear.” I said finally.

He kissed me on the cheek, looking at me fondly before getting up.

“Yes ma’am.”