#Was it casual when I found out you were doing the same thing?

[sugarplum217]

Essence Of Loyalty (Pt.1)

Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black Plus Size Female Reader

Warnings: MDNI (18+) contains sexual explicit content, heavy smut, spit play, oral sex, A VERY HEAVY USE OF “daddy” and “mama”, unprotected sex, cursing, major dirty talk, creampie, mentions of murder, lots of heavy sexual flirtation, detailed sexual acts , fluff

AuthorsNote: Please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors. I hope you enjoy the story and remember to be kind and if you want to be tagged in the next part let me know.

Summary: Everyone and their mama has been trying to either set you up on a date with someone or continuously remind you that your clock is ticking away. That you weren’t getting any younger and your looks would eventually fade. What they didn’t know is that you already had your special someone. In fact you’ve had him a while. You know how that saying goes, “Good things come to those who wait” and for you in this instance. It was nothing but the waiting game for your special someone to finally walk into your life. The question is .. would it be acceptable for everyone else?

You never expected to fall in love with a man behind bars. It started as nothing more than a random click—some late-night curiosity fueled by boredom and an ad that popped up between Facebook posts. Find love where you least expect it. Meet single men looking for companionship. You damn near scrolled past it, but something made you stop. Maybe it was the way the words “love” and “companionship” stood out, teasing something you didn’t realize you were craving. Maybe it was just the boredom, the same mundane routine of work, home, sleep, repeat, stretching on like a treadmill you couldn’t step off. Either way, you clicked. Scrolling through the profiles felt like flipping through a catalog you had no business browsing. Men of all ages and backgrounds, some looking for friendship, others for love. But none of them caught your attention. That is—until you saw him. Inmate 07541, Terrance Richmond. Baby, that mugshot stopped you cold. Rich buttery light caramel skin, sharp jawline, and full lips that looked like they could whisper secrets straight into your soul. His nose was strong, his features chiseled, but it was those damn piercing uniquely colored eyes that did it. Deep-set, hooded, with a stare so intense you could feel it through the screen. Something about them made your heart stutter—like he was looking at you, past you, into you. There was no forced smile, no tough-guy posturing. Just that stare. You hesitated, hovering over the message button. What the hell were you doing? Messaging a man serving time? A man who, according to his bio, had been locked up since he was 18? Still, curiosity won. You typed out a casual introduction—something light, something safe—and hit send. Then you pushed it to the back of your mind, fully expecting no response, but he wrote back. And not just some half-assed, one-line reply. He wrote you back.

That first message turned into another. And another. Emails became long letters, paragraphs bleeding into pages, until you found yourself rushing home from work just to see his name in your inbox. You learned everything about him—the way he used to play football before his life changed, the music he listened to, the books he read to escape the four walls of his cell. He told you about his past, the pain, the betrayal, the night everything changed. And you told him about yours—how life felt like it was happening at you instead of for you. How you wanted more, but you didn’t know what more even looked like. Then came the sweet video calls. The first time you saw him move, saw that sharp jaw flex when he smiled, heard that deep, velvety voice rumble straight through the screen—you were done. Hooked. Gone. Two years later, here you were. In a relationship—a real one, even if nobody knew. And in a few days, he’d be free. And that? That scared you more than anything.

“You always got an excuse, girl. What is tea?”Sonya’s voice snapped you back to the present, and you blinked, realizing your fork had been hovering over your plate for way too long. It was lunchtime at Taste Of The South Cafe, your usual Friday spot with the girls. The table was cluttered with half-empty margarita glasses, plates of fried catfish and mac and cheese, and the scent of honey butter croissants floating in the air. Normally, this was your escape from the monotony of work. But today? You were ready to go.

“I just wanna relax,” You half way lied, pushing your food around. Sonya wasn’t buying it. Neither was Deja.

“Girl, please,” Deja scoffed. “Every time we plan a girls’ night, your ass come up with something. What’s up? You sneakin’ around with somebody?”

“Ain’t nobody sneakin’.” You forced a laugh, shaking your head. 

“Then why you always rushin’ home like you got a man waitin’ on you?” Sonya arched a brow, swirling her margarita.

“Because I do.” You thought to yourself. But you didn’t say that. Instead, you shrugged, hoping they’d let it go. They didn’t.

“You sure it ain’t that new dude in accounting?” Deja pressed. “The one with the Audi and the beard? Girl, he is fine.”

“Not my type,” You said quickly.

Sonya snorted. “And what is your type? Because last time I checked, you were single as hell.”

You just smiled, keeping your real thoughts locked up tight. Because your type wasn’t something you could explain to them. Your type wasn’t sitting in an office, making six figures, and posting gym selfies on Instagram. Your type was locked behind bars. A man who had spent more of his life inside than out. A man whose voice alone made your thighs clench, whose absence felt like a missing limb. But they wouldn’t get that. So you just laughed it off, switched the subject, and counted down the hours until you could talk to him. The day dragged. By the time you made it to your car, your feet were aching, your patience was shot, and you were tired. But none of that mattered. Because in just a few minutes, he’d be calling. The drive home was full of bumper-to-bumper traffic and the usual call from your mama.

“Hey ma” You greeted, honking the car in front of you to move their ass. 

“Hey my baby. You comin’ to dinner this weekend?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You make a face, thanking god she can’t see you.

“Good. Your sister’s bringing her fiancé.” She said, her tone laced with excitement. Of course, she was. Your older sister had the picture-perfect life—a man, a ring, a timeline that fit neatly into the family’s expectations.

“And he’s bringing his brother,” You mother added casually.

You sighed. “Ma—”

“Just be open-minded! You’re a beautiful girl, and you ain’t gettin’ any younger.” She reminded for the hundredth time. You gritted your teeth, gripping the steering wheel. If only she knew. But you decided to let it go. 

“I’ll see you Saturday.” You shook your head, hanging up.By the time you got home, it was 6:59pm. You barely had time to drop your purse before your phone lit up with that Incoming Call from your ‘Big Daddy’. You squealed, feeling your heart flip. 

You snatched it up, answering with a smile. “Hey, baby.”

“Damn, I needed to hear your voice.” A low chuckle rumbled through the speaker, deep enough to send heat pooling between your thighs. 

You melted instantly. “Long day?”

“Long as hell,” He sighed. “But I knew I’d be hearin’ from you, so I got through it.”

Your chest tightened. “I missed you.”

“Yeah? I missed you more baby” He smirked. You could hear it in his voice. “Tell me about your day, baby.”

So you did. You told him everything—lunch with your nosy-ass friends, your mama trying to set you up. And he listened quietly like always when it came to your day and what crazy ass story you had ready for him. That was one of the many things you loved about Terry, how he could just listen and never get tired of you talking. 

“Don’t sweat that shit, baby. You got a man.” He chuckled, low and smooth. That possessiveness made your toes curl.

“Yeah?” you teased. “I got a man?”

“Hell yeah,” He murmured. “And in a few days, you gon’ have me in every way possible.”

Your breath hitched and your body got hot. Because in just a few days, Terry Richmond would be free. And you would finally be his.  You adjusted the phone against your ear, stretching out on the couch, letting his voice roll over you like thick honey.

“You talkin’ real reckless, Mr. Terrance,” you teased, biting your lip. “What makes you think you gettin’ all this good good so easy?”

A deep, knowing chuckle rumbled through the receiver, sending shivers down your spine. “Baby,” He drawled, voice rich and slow like he was savoring every syllable. “Don’t play wit’ me. You and I both know the second I touch down, I’ma have you laid out for me, just how I like it.”

“Oh yeah?” Your thighs pressed together at the promise in his tone.

“Hell yeah. First thing I’m doin’ is spreadin’ them thighs, makin’ up for lost time. You know I been starvin’ for you. Ain’t had a taste of sweet pussy in years. I need my plate, ma.” He stated, making your breath hitch and heat coil in your lower belly. 

“Terry…” You breathed, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Say my name just like that when I’m between them legs,” He murmured. “Matter fact, scream it. I’ma put my mouth on every inch of you. Them thighs? Mine. Them hips? Mine. That spot you say makes you weak right under your belly button? I’m kissin’ it first. And you already know where I’m endin’ up.”

Your body responded to his words instantly, your nipples tightening against the fabric of your blouse. The ache between your thighs grew unbearable. You were so tempted to rub on your clit as he talked to you, but you knew big daddy’s rules. You weren’t allowed to touch yourself at all unless he gave the permission and could listen to you without any interruptions. 

“You talkin’ crazy,” You whispered, your voice thick with need.

“Nah, baby, I’m talkin’ facts. You gon’ see. Soon as I get out, you ain’t leavin’ that bed for at least three days.” He chuckled. 

“Oh, so I’m just gonna be held hostage?” You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers toying with the hem of your skirt.

“Damn right,” He said without hesitation. “Ain’t no way I been locked up this long just to finally get my hands on you and let you go. Shit, you gon’ be beggin’ me to let you breathe.”

Your stomach flipped. You wanted that. Needed that. But then, reality settled back in. The system didn’t make things easy.

“Speaking of that…What did your lawyer say about your release date? Will you be out on my birthday like we want?” You exhaled, shifting the phone closer to your ear. It was silence for a moment. The weight of it pressed heavy between you, thick and uncertain. You held your breath preparing for the worst case scenario possible. 

“They still pushin’ for my original release date, but you know how this shit go. Paperwork, red tape, all that. My lawyer confident, though. He say if everything lines up, I should be out right on time. Maybe even a couple days before.” Terry let out a slow breath.

“For real?” Your chest tightened with cautious hope. 

“For real, baby. But…” He hesitated. “You know they been tryin’ to trip me up in here. COs, some of these jealous-ass inmates. They know I’m close to freedom, and they hate that shit. I gotta keep my head low, stay out the way, but it’s hard sometimes. Real hard.”

“They still on that bullshit?” Your jaw clenched.

“Yeah,” He muttered. “They hate a nigga like me gettin’ a second chance. And these lame ass inmates tryna set me up don’t help either.”

“Terry, I swear to God if they—”You closed your eyes, frustration bubbling inside you.

“Relax, mama,” He said, voice dropping into that deep, soothing register that always made you weak. “Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me from comin’ home to you. I promise you that. I done made it through too much to let these motherfuckers take my freedom again.”

“Baby, please promise me you won’t do nothin’ to mess this up. I need you here. I need you home.” You frowned, Terry remained silent allowing you to vent because he knew this was becoming harder everyday for you to cope with. You swallowed hard, throat tight.

“I just…” You hesitated, then admitted softly, “I just need you here. I don’t want anything messin’ this up. My 28th birthday… Terry, all I want is you.”

“I know, ma. Trust me, I know.” His voice softened, turning serious. “You the only thing keepin’ me sane in here. The only thing keepin’ me goin’. I promise you, I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ get in the way of me comin’ home to you.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I trust you.” You inhaled deeply, letting his words settle over you. 

“You got me for life baby,” He said assuring you, voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you, baby. If I gotta fight every damn day until that judge signs my release, I’ma do it. ‘Cause you worth it. We worth it.”

“You better mean that,” You whispered. Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away.

“I do. And when I’m finally out, when I got you in my arms, I’ma make sure you never question that again.”

“I love you so much.” You exhaled shakily.

“I love you more, baby.” He bit his lip, feeling his heart speed up. 

“You swear you gonna come home to me, Terry?” You exhaled, stretching your legs out on the couch, your free hand absently trailing over your bare thigh. 

“Baby, listen to me.” His voice came through the receiver, deep and unwavering. “I need you to hear me when I say this. Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me from comin’ home to you. I done wasted enough years locked up, dreamin’ about what it feel like to be free, to wake up next to a woman who actually give a damn about me. I ain’t lettin’ no CO, no hating-ass inmate, no system take that from me.”

You closed your eyes, soaking in his words. A small tear escaped your eyes as you just let him talk and calm all of your fears. 

“And you really think I’m about to let you be out here spendin’ another birthday without me? Nah, ma. That ain’t happenin’.” He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Matter fact, you should start gettin’ ready now, ‘cause soon as I step through that door, I’m givin’ you somethin’ to celebrate.”

“Oh yeah? What you givin’ me, Terry?” A slow smile spread across your lips. 

“Ain’t it obvious? My last name, first of all.” He stated matter of factly. 

“Boy, stop playin’.” Your breath caught in your throat.

“Who playin’?” He challenged. “You really think I been doin’ all this talkin’, dreamin’ about you, makin’ plans, just to be out here on some casual shit? Nah, baby. You my woman. And when I get home, I’m puttin’ a ring on that pretty lil’ finger. You ain’t gon’ be nobody else’s but mine.”

Heat spread through your chest, settling deep in your belly. He always had a way of making you feel claimed, but this? This was different. This felt all too real and that he was promising you the moon and the stars and would actually reach up in the damn sky and get it for you. 

“Terry…” You purred slightly. 

“Say it again,” He murmured, voice dropping to that low, dangerous octave that always did something to you. “Say my name just like that.”

“Terry.” Your lips parted, slowing your words down for him. 

“Mmm,” He groaned. “That’s what I wanna hear every morning, every night. That’s what I wanna hear when I’m makin’ love to you, when I’m in it so deep you forget how to say anything else.”

“You tryna kill me, huh?” You sucked in a breath, your thighs pressing together instinctively. 

“Nah, ma. Just tryna remind you who you belong to.” He smirked, licking his lips. 

You chewed your lip, heart pounding against your ribs. The thought of him finally being here, of feeling him, touching him, owning him in the flesh—it was almost too much.

“Terry…” You started, voice soft, hesitant.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He adjusted the phone on his ear, eyebrows furrowing. You hesitated a moment afraid to tell him what’s really been on your mind. Afraid he wouldn’t understand but truth was Terry was more than understanding when it came to you. 

“I just… I keep thinking about what’s gonna happen once you’re really here. Like, when it’s not just phone calls and emails. When it’s real. When it’s us.” You honestly confessed, sighing. You heard a brief pause making your stomach tighten out of angst. You held your breath afraid he’d be upset but after a few seconds, he then spoke gently. 

”That’s what you scared of?” He asked, voice soft. 

You swallowed. “Not scared, just… it’s gonna be different. You been inside since you were 18, Terry. That’s—” You did the math in your head, stomach twisting. “Seventeen years. That’s a long time.”

“I know,” He said simply. “You think I don’t know that? Every damn day, I been countin’ down to this moment. I know it’s gon’ be an adjustment. I ain’t naive to that, baby. But what I do know is that I want this. You. I ain’t spent two years fallin’ in love with you for nothin’. And I damn sure ain’t finna let somethin’ as small as a transition period shake me.”

You exhaled, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I just want you to be happy, Terry.”

“I am happy, ma. You make me happy.” He professed from his heart, making your heart squeeze and stomach flutter. 

“Now,” He continued, voice laced with that familiar hunger. “Can we get back to what I was sayin’? ‘Cause I still got a whole list of things I plan to do to you soon as I get out.”

“Oh yeah? Go ‘head then, baby. I’m listenin’.” Your stomach flipped.

Terry exhaled through the receiver, the sound slow and deliberate. “Aight, so… First thing I’m doin’ soon as I step through that door? I’m droppin’ my bag, pullin’ you close, and kissin’ you like I been starvin’ for it.”

“Mmmm.” You bit your lip, already picturing the scene.

“Ain’t gon’ be no soft, sweet shit neither. Nah,” He rumbled. “I’m talkin’ about deep, wet, tongue all in your mouth, my hands locked around that waist, pullin’ you so tight you feel my dick pressin’ up against you.”

“Damn, Big Daddy. Can I at least take my heels off first?” You let out a breathy laugh.

“Hell nah,” He said smoothly. “Matter fact, leave ‘em on. I want you just like that. Fresh off work, tight lil’ skirt ridin’ up, them pretty ass legs wrapped ‘round my waist while I pin you up against the door.”

“Oh shit..” Your entire body heated at the image. You had to fan yourself, and cross your legs to avoid any wetness seeping out. 

“You know how long I been dreamin’ about that, baby?” His voice dropped an octave, turning into something dark, possessive. “Seventeen years. Seventeen years I been locked in this hellhole, surrounded by nothin’ but concrete and steel, knowin’ I ain’t got a real woman to touch, to taste, to claim. And then you came along…”

“B-Baby..” A soft gasp slipped from your lips. You squeezed your thighs shut tighter, already soaking your panties. 

“And now all I can think about is how you gon’ feel underneath me. How soft your skin is. How good you smell. How sweet you taste.” He growled lowly in your ear. 

“Shit.” You cursed, shifting on the couch, thighs pressing together.

“Mmm,” He hummed knowingly. “You wet for me, ain’t you?”

“Terry—” You swallowed.

“Nah, don’t try to play it off now,” He interrupted. “I know you, ma. I know you sittin’ there, grippin’ that phone tight, breathin’ all heavy, body heatin’ up just listenin’ to me talk. I don’t even need to be there to know how bad you want me.”

“You lucky you locked up.” You let out a shaky breath, tilting your head back against the couch. 

“Lucky? Nah, baby. Unlucky. ‘Cause if I was home right now, I’d have you laid out, ass up, back arched, moanin’ my name so loud the neighbors call the cops.”He chuckled, voice dripping with amusement.

“Boy, stop!” You laughed, shaking your head. “You talk all that shit, I hope you got the stamina to back it up.”

Terry clicked his tongue. “Oh, you doubtin’ me? That’s crazy. Lemme find out my baby think I ain’t gon’ put in work.”

“I mean, it has been a long time, Big Papa,” You teased.

“Aight,” He drawled, tone dangerous. “Keep playin’ with me. You gon’ be beggin’ me to let you breathe when I’m done with you.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, so smooth and confident like he had zero doubt in his ability to back up every single word. The next few hours passed in a blur, the two of you tangled in conversation like it was your own little world. Terry told you about the meals he was craving—real food, not that processed mess they served on metal trays. He wanted collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, fried chicken, all made by you. “I need a home-cooked meal, baby. Something made with love,” He said, his voice full of longing. You laughed and promised to have a whole spread waiting for him. Then the conversation shifted to the small things—how he couldn’t wait to sleep in a real bed, how he wanted to go outside at night just to feel the wind on his face without fences in the way, how he wanted to sit on the couch with you and watch a movie with your legs draped over his lap. “Shit like that, ma,” He murmured. “The simple stuff. That’s what I miss the most.”

And you listened, hanging onto his every word, feeling your heart swell with each confession. The world had taken so much from him, stripped him of so many years, but somehow, he still had softness in him. He still had love to give. You found yourself telling him about all the things you wanted to do together, too—how you wanted to take him out to eat at a real restaurant, go on a drive late at night just because, lay up with him on a Sunday morning while the smell of breakfast filled the apartment. The more you talked, the more the reality of him coming home settled deep inside you. “You really gon’ take care of me, huh?” he asked, his voice low and full of something tender. “You damn right,” you whispered. “Somebody gotta make up for all that time you lost.”

If someone had told you years ago that you’d fall in love with a man behind bars, you would’ve laughed in their face. You always wanted love, prayed for it even, but you never imagined it would come in the form of Terry Richmond—a man with a past heavier than most, a man who had seen the worst parts of life and still found a way to hold onto his soul. He was the most fascinating, most alluring man you’d ever known, and you had never been more open with anyone in your life. You craved him in ways that scared you sometimes. You wanted to be the one to feed him, to run him a hot bath and wash years of struggle off his skin. You wanted to rub his shoulders, his chest, his back, to remind him that he was human, that he was home. And the way he talked to you, the way he poured into you, made you feel like you were already his sanctuary.

After you finally got off the phone, you moved into your nighttime routine, taking your time washing your face, patting your skin dry, smoothing your serums in like a ritual. You stared at yourself in the mirror, thinking about how your life was about to change. In just a few days, he’d be here, in your space, in your bed, in your life outside of those prison walls. As you reached for your bonnet and wrapped it securely around your head, your phone buzzed on the counter. FaceTime. Mama. You sighed, knowing she’d scold you if you didn’t answer, so you slid your thumb across the screen and propped the phone up.

“Hey, Mama,” You greeted, already bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” She said, peering at you through the screen. “Just callin’ to say goodnight and check on you before you went to bed.”  

“I’m alright , Mama. Just gettin’ ready for bed. Doing my usual routine.” You smiled. 

“Mm-hmm,” She hummed, then her face lit up. “Oh! Guess who I ran into today? You remember Kiana Perkins from high school?”

You frowned, digging through your memory. “Kiana Perkins… oh yeah, the one who used to run track?”

“Yes, her! Baby, she married now, got two babies, livin’ all happy with her husband. She showed me pictures and everything. And I just… I don’t know, baby, it got me thinkin’.” She started in on you. 

“Mama—” You groaned internally.

She held up a hand. “I know what you ‘bout to say, but hear me out. You not gettin’ any younger, baby. I just want you to have somebody. You always been my dumplin’, my soft-hearted baby, and I just—” She sighed. “I just want you to be loved, baby. I want somebody to take care of you for once.”

You bit your lip, heart squeezing at her words, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know that you did have somebody. That you had Terry. That soon, you wouldn’t be coming home to an empty bed anymore. You leaned back against the bathroom counter, swallowing the lump in your throat as your mother continued, her voice full of concern. 

“You know, I just don’t want you to end up like me, raising a family all on your own. You’ve got so much to offer, baby, don’t let it go to waste.” She paused, waiting for you to respond, but you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions. You wanted to tell her the truth, but you couldn’t—not yet. Terry was still behind those walls, and the world wasn’t ready for your truth. Not yet.

“I hear you, Mama,” You said softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “But I’m good. I’m happy with how things are right now.”

She eyed you, her brow furrowing, but she didn’t push it. “Alright,” she finally said, her tone softening. “Just don’t wait too long, baby. Time don’t wait for nobody.”

“I won’t, Mama. Promise,” You replied, though you knew the promise wasn’t to her. It was to yourself. You weren’t going to waste any more time. The conversation moved on, and you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for not telling her about Terry. She didn’t know that every night, you fell asleep with thoughts of him, that his voice had become the lullaby you never knew you needed. You thought about his touch, his words, the way he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world. But for now, it was a secret. Your secret. You wrapped up the call with your mother, promising to be at Sunday dinner over the weekend, and hung up. The air felt thick now, like the weight of your own desires had settled in your chest. You finished getting ready for bed, your mind racing with thoughts of Terry, wondering if he was thinking about you too, wondering how much longer you’d have to wait before he was finally home. As you slipped under the

covers, your mind drifted to your happy place and that was Terry. Eventually after saying a quick silent prayer for him and his safety like you did every night, you finally went to sleep. 

The morning light seeped through the blinds, casting long golden streaks across your bedroom. You lay there for a moment, tangled in your silk sheets, staring at the ceiling with a heavy mind. The anticipation sat on your chest like a weight. Today could be the day you got answers—real answers—about Terry’s release. No more guesswork, no more waiting in limbo. Either he’d be home in time for your birthday, or he wouldn’t. And if it was up to you, there wouldn’t be a wouldn’t. Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, shaking you from your thoughts. The number was unfamiliar, but you knew who it had to be before you even swiped to answer.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy, thick with sleep, but there was an urgency beneath it.

“Good morning, this is Michael Walker, Terry Richmond’s attorney.” The voice on the other end was smooth, professional, but you caught that slight edge—like he was bracing himself for a conversation you might not want to have. “I wanted to give you an update on his case. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course. What’s the update?” You pushed yourself upright, resting your back against the headboard.

Michael exhaled. “So here’s where we are. We’re still waiting on the judge’s final decision regarding his release. As you know, we’ve been pushing hard for full release instead of parole, but the system moves at its own pace. Right now, it’s looking like one of two things will happen—either the judge will sign off on his release, and he’ll be free to come home, or he’ll be granted parole with conditions.”

Your stomach twisted at the word “conditions.” That could mean anything. A curfew. Mandatory check-ins. Restrictions on where he could go, what he could do. You wanted Terry free—not still tangled in the system’s web.

“Is there a chance he’ll be home by my birthday?” You asked, your voice smaller than you intended.

Michael hesitated. That damn hesitation. You hated it. “That’s what we’re aiming for,” He said finally. “But it’s all in the judge’s hands. We’re doing everything we can to make it happen, but we need to be realistic.”

Your fingers tightened around the phone. “I just… I need him home.” The words left you before you could stop them, more vulnerable than you wanted to sound.

“I get it,” Michael said, and for the first time, there was something softer in his tone. “But here’s the thing—you need to make sure Terry understands how important it is for him to stay in line right now. He’s close. So damn close. But if he gets into it with the COs, if he so much as breathes wrong in there, it could delay everything. Or worse.”

A lump formed in your throat. Terry had been through hell in that prison. You knew how hard it was for him to bite his tongue, to play the game when the guards disrespected him just for breathing. You also knew how much some of those inmates hated to see another Black man about to touch freedom. Envy was a dangerous thing.

“I’ll talk to him,” You said firmly. “I’ll make sure he knows.”

“Good,” Michael replied. “I’ll keep you posted on any updates. Until then, just keep him focused on what’s waiting for him on the outside.”

And that’s exactly what you planned to do. Because he was coming home. To you. To the life y’all had spent two years dreaming up. And you weren’t about to let anything or anyone take that away. The weight of everything that needed to be done before Terry came home sat on your shoulders like a mix of excitement and pressure. There was so much to prepare, so much to buy, so much to perfect before your man walked through that door and took his rightful place in your life. Clothes, toiletries, shoes, cologne—he was stepping into a world he hadn’t been a part of since he was barely legal, and you were determined to make sure he had everything he needed to start fresh. And then there was you. Your own upkeep was just as important. You wanted to look good good for him. A fresh Brazilian wax so your skin was baby smooth, eyebrows snatched, lashes full and fluttery, and your hair? Oh, that had to be flawless—not just for your birthday but because you already knew he was going to have it all over the place by the end of the night. You could already hear the headboard knocking, already feel his breath on your skin, already picture the way he’d grip you like he was making up for lost time. The thought alone made your stomach tighten with anticipation.

But beyond all the surface-level preparation, there was a deeper feeling swirling inside you. Letting a man you’d only seen through a screen and heard through a receiver move into your home was a huge step. Some would call it crazy. Hell, a part of you knew it was risky, but love had never been about playing it safe. And with Terry? It had never felt like a risk. It felt right. He was your soulmate—plain and simple. The man you wanted to

wake up to, fall asleep with, build a family with. You’d spent two years loving him from a distance, and now, you were stepping into a reality where he was yours in every way. You weren’t naive to the adjustments that would come with it, but you also weren’t afraid. He was worth it.

With a stretch and a soft sigh, you finally pulled yourself out of bed, the silk of your nightgown clinging to your curves as you padded across your bedroom. It barely covered your ass, the hem rising with each step, and you lazily reached for your robe, wrapping it around you before making your way into the kitchen. The house was still, quiet, but soon, it would be filled with his presence. Him walking around shirtless, his deep voice filling up every room, his scent lingering on the furniture. You couldn’t wait. As you reached for the fridge, your eyes landed on the Polaroid photo of him taped to the door—one of the few glimpses of him outside of a call or a video chat. He had sent it during one of the rare inmate photo days, his expression serious but his eyes still burning with something that made your stomach flip. Damn, you fine. You ran a finger over the image, smiling to yourself before pulling out the eggs and milk.

The one thing people probably wouldn’t understand was why you had never visited him in prison. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. God knew you had begged to. But Terry? Terry was territorial to his core. It had taken months of back-and-forth, of pleading and arguing, before you finally accepted that he wasn’t going to let you step foot in that visiting room. He didn’t want no prison guards or inmates looking at his woman—studying you, lusting after you, imagining things about you that only he was allowed to. You belonged to him, and the thought of other men—especially those locked up with him—laying their eyes on you sent him into a rage he didn’t even try to hide. It wasn’t just possessiveness; it was protection. He had seen too many things go left in that place, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be a part of any of it. So, you let it go, trusting that the day would come when you wouldn’t have to love him from a distance. That day was almost here.

You were in the middle of whisking the batter for your waffles when your phone vibrated on the counter. Without hesitation, you snatched it up, already knowing who it was.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Terry’s deep, raspy voice sent a warmth down your spine. His morning voice was dangerous.

“Mmm, good morning, baby,” You hummed, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you continued mixing. “How’d you sleep?”

“Would’ve slept better with you underneath me,” He murmured, the smirk in his tone evident. “What my baby got planned for today?”

You bit your lip, smiling. “Just a quick Target and BJ’s run to stock the house up for you, then I gotta get my nails done. Oh, and I gotta swing by the post office to pick up my bundles that came in.”

He chuckled, low and knowing. “Mmm, you tryna get fine for Big Daddy?”

“Mmhmm.” You giggled, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.

“Damn, girl…” His voice dropped a little lower, and you could almost see him licking his lips on the other end. “Ima eat that pussy like crazy, baby girl.”

Your breath hitched, a heat sparking between your thighs. “Terry!” You squealed, laughing. “Stop being nasty!”

“Nah, I’m deadass serious.” His tone was dark, full of hunger. “You don’t even know what you got coming.”

You took a steadying breath, trying to shake off the goosebumps crawling up your skin. “Listen, nasty man, we need to talk.” Your tone shifted, getting serious. “Your attorney called me this morning. We need to discuss what he told me.”

“What he say?” There was a pause before he answered with a serious tone. 

You exhaled. “Baby…” You gripped the phone tighter, staring at the batter as if it had the answers. “It’s about your release.”

Terry was silent for a moment, and you could feel the shift in his energy through the phone. That easy, teasing tone from before was gone, replaced by something heavier—something cautious.

“What about it?” His voice was lower now, tight with restraint.

You sighed, setting the whisk down and gripping the edge of the counter. “He said they’re still waiting on the judge to sign off, and it could go either way. Either parole or full release.” You paused, running your tongue over your lips. “I asked if you’d be home by my birthday, and he said that’s what they’re pushing for, but the judge has to approve it first and it appears the judge is taking their sweet ass time. Same shit you told me last night.” 

“Man… I been waiting years for this moment. If they try to stall this shit…” Terry sucked his teeth, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Baby, don’t even put that energy in the air,” You cut in quickly, gripping the phone. “It’s gonna happen. You just gotta hold tight.”

“I’m tryna hold tight, ma, but you don’t understand. I been locked down since I was eighteen. Half my life. I done played by they rules, kept my nose clean, did everything I was supposed to do. And now, when it’s finally my time to touch down, they wanna drag they feet?” His frustration was raw, and you didn’t blame him one bit.

“That’s why we gotta be smart about this,” You soothed, lowering your voice. “Your attorney said you need to walk a fine line, Terry. These COs and some of them inmates? They don’t want to see you win, baby. You getting out means they lose power over you. And if you let ‘em get under your skin, if you give them any reason to stall this—”

“I know, baby,” He gritted, cutting you off. “I ain’t stupid.”

“I never said you were,” You softened, biting your lip. “But you know they’ll do anything to keep a black man locked up. You know that. You can’t afford to slip.”

Another deep sigh. “I just wanna be with you, ma,” He admitted, his voice quieter now, the vulnerability cutting through all the frustration. “That’s all I been holding on to. You. Us. The life we ‘bout to have.”

“And you will be with me, Terry. Soon. I promise.” Your heart clenched, and you closed your eyes for a second.

“You the only thing keeping me sane right now, baby,” He muttered. “You really are.”

“And you the only man I want. Ain’t nothing gon’ change that.” You swallowed hard, that warmth creeping back into your chest.

He went quiet for a beat, then, “Damn, you really love me, huh?”

“Boy, you already know.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Say it,” He murmured.

“I love you, Terrance Richmond.” You bit your lip, smiling. 

A deep exhale came through the line, like those words alone were enough to ground him. “I love you too, ma. More than you even know.”

“You better love me with your fine self.” You giggled, continuing to whisk the batter. He chuckled lowly, the sound making your ears perk up at the nostalgic sound.

“You know I want a baby soon as possible, right? Just like we talked about.” Terry’s voice dipped even lower, that familiar edge of possession curling around his words. 

“I know, baby.” You bit your lip, warmth spreading through your belly at the certainty in his tone.

“Nah,” He pressed. “I mean, soon as I get home, I’m filling you up. I ain’t playing.”

A giggle bubbled out of you. “Well, that’s good to know,”  You teased, twisting a strand of hair between your fingers. “Because I already got off my birth control, and I’m ovulating real soon.”

Silence. Then a sharp inhale from Terry. “You serious?”

“Mmhmm.” A smirk played on your lips 

“Good,” He growled. “‘Cause I ain’t pulling out. I want you pregnant, mama. You carrying my son or my baby girl. I already see it.”

A deep shudder rolled through you at the sheer conviction in his voice. There was no hesitation, no doubt—he wanted this, just like you did. Now you knew having a baby before a ring wasn’t the most conventional thing. You were raised better than that, taught that marriage first was the way to go, that being someone’s “baby mama” wasn’t the move. But Terry? He wasn’t that type of man. This wasn’t some half-thought-out, heat-of-the-moment decision. You knew exactly what you were signing up for. From the moment you told him you wanted his baby, he made it crystal clear—both you and that child would have his last name. There would be no question, no hesitation. You weren’t about to be just someone’s BM. You were his woman, his future wife.

The plan was already in motion—soon as he got out, y’all were hitting the courthouse and making it official. No long engagement, no drawn-out wedding planning stress. He wanted to be your husband immediately. And once he was settled, once he was back on his feet, working and bringing in real money, then he’d give you that big wedding, the

one with the flowers, the dress, the family all gathered to watch you walk down the aisle. But for now? The paper, the commitment, you—that’s what mattered most to him.

It wasn’t like you weren’t set up already. You made damn good money, and your degree in business administration had you sitting pretty in a high-paying corporate consulting job, helping multi-million-dollar firms streamline their operations. Your salary was more than enough to hold things down while Terry got back on his feet, and you’d already mapped out a business plan to help him reintegrate. Finding a job after doing seventeen years inside wasn’t easy, but you had resources, connections, a plan. You weren’t just bringing him home—you were making sure he stayed home. You were building a life with this man, and every step of it felt right.

“You think your family gon’ like me?” Terry exhaled through the phone, his deep voice softening just a little. Your smile, bright and easy just seconds ago, slowly faded. It was a fair question. A real one. But it wasn’t an easy one to answer. You knew your mama. Sweet, nurturing, and warm when she wanted to be, but judgmental as hell. A devout Christian woman—saved, sanctified, and filled with the Holy Ghost. She wasn’t fond of anything remotely sinful, and Terry… well, Terry was the walking definition of sinful.

There was no denying he was a fine-ass man. That wasn’t the issue. Standing tall at 6’3”, with those piercing hazel eyes that seemed to shift between ocean-gray and a stormy blue-green depending on the light. Rich, light caramel skin that deepened into a golden bronze in the summer but softened into a fairer hue in the colder months. A strong, chiseled jawline that made him look both dangerous and regal. His lips? Plump, full, always looking like they were ready to be kissed—or used for something far nastier. His short-cropped curly fro was just long enough to grab, and those thick, corded muscles? Yeah. His time behind bars didn’t just sculpt his body—it turned him into a damn statue, cut from flesh instead of marble. His tattoos, inked along his thick arms, added to his edge. Especially that sleeve—his latest one, a masterpiece he got done while inside.

He was the kind of man that turned heads when he walked into a room. The kind that made women cross their legs and bite their lip. But he wasn’t the “good, God-fearing man” your mother had envisioned for you. Terry was the complete opposite. And yet, his heart was the purest thing about him. Despite his past, despite the anger and the hurt buried deep in his soul, he was a good man. A gentle soul trapped in an exterior so hard, so intimidating, most people never got to see the real him.

You inhaled sharply, trying to find the right words. “Baby, I gotta be honest with you.”

“Mmhmm?” His voice was calm. 

You sighed. “I don’t know. My mama… she can be a bit much. And the fact that I’ve been hiding this—hiding us—for the past two years? Oh, she gon’ have a fit. And my sister? Whew, she gon’ have a mouth full too. You’d probably have better luck with my aunties than my own mama.”

Terry chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your stomach flutter. “I get it, baby. I do.” His voice was soft, understanding. “But I ain’t going nowhere. She can side-eye me, throw oil on me, pray over me ‘til she blue in the face—I’m still gon’ be here. And I’ma do whatever I can to make her love me. To make her see I ain’t some monster. ‘Cause I want this, ma. I want us. I want your family to be my family, too.”

That made you smile. A big one. The kind that deepened your dimples and warmed you from the inside out. But there was something else weighing on you. Something heavy. Something you knew Terry wouldn’t want to talk about, but you had to ask.

You hesitated before carefully pushing forward. “Baby… you gon’ reach out to your mama once you’re free?”

“Nah, Y/N. I’m not.” He answered, his voice, tight and clipped. 

You swallowed. “Baby—”

“Ain’t like she gave a fuck about me in the first place,” he cut you off, his voice colder now. “I’m in here ‘cause of her. You know that.”

“I know. I do. But, baby… you gotta forgive. Not for her. For you. You need peace, Terry. You deserve that.” You exhaled slowly. His breathing was heavier now, like he was trying to keep himself from slipping into that dark place. You hated when he went there. When the bitterness and resentment started to eat away at him.

“I got peace, baby. I got you.” His voice softened just a little, but you could still hear the hurt beneath it. “That’s all I need.”

“I hear you baby.” You softly replied. You decided to respect his wishes and let the conversation about his mother rest. He had been through enough, and you weren’t about to push him into something he wasn’t ready for. Instead, you brightened up, shifting the energy as you let out a little squeal.

“Oh! Baby, my birthday dress came!” You announced excitedly, twirling a loose curl around your finger. “I can’t wait for you to see me in it.”

Terry’s smirk was damn near audible through the phone. “Oh yeah?” His voice dropped an octave, turning rich and smooth like warm honey. “That’s cool, baby… ‘cause I can’t wait to take that shit off you.”

“It is literally nine in the morning, and you already on go.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Because I got this pretty, brown-eyed woman waiting on me,” He murmured. “And I can’t stop staring at her picture, picturing our life together beyond these walls. I just need my woman bad.” He let out a breath, voice thick with longing. “I wanna turn your body inside out, have you laid up exhausted, and then make you breakfast in the morning while you recover, boo.”

“Leave the cooking to me, Richmond. Don’t need you burning our house up.” You smirked, scratching your head. You hadn’t even realized you said it like that—our house—until the words left your lips. But Terry caught it instantly. His heart swelled, warmth spreading through his chest like wildfire.

“Our,” He repeated, grinning through the phone. “I like the sound of that. And don’t worry, baby. I could never destroy anything of ours.” His words settled over you like a warm embrace, making your stomach flutter.

Terry cleared his throat after a beat. “So, your girls still takin’ you out for your birthday?”

“Mmhmm,” You confirmed, stretching lazily. “We’re hitting this grown and sexy lounge. Got a section, a table, should be real nice. I just wanted something low-key. Nothing too crazy.”

Terry hummed in approval. “That’s what’s up. You think your girls gon’ accept me?”

You snorted. “They’re gonna love you. Especially Deja. Sonya, though… she might take a minute. She’s Miss Fake Bougie, swearing she a real housewife of Atlanta. But deep down, she’s chill. Just real protective of me.”

Terry let out a low chuckle. “Aight, sounds like a plan, baby girl. Long as they ain’t plotting to run me off, we cool.”

“Never that.” You smiled, resting your chin in your hand, leaning on the countertop.

“Mm. Aight, tell me this, then—what’s the first meal I’m getting when I come home?” He inquired, with a devious smirk. 

“Well, I was thinking… me.” Your voice became real seductive, tilting your head. 

Terry’s laughter rumbled through the phone, low and sinful. “Ain’t no thinking, that’s a guarantee. But just to be safe, cook us something for after, ‘cause we gon’ need the strength.”

“Terry, you so damn silly.” You burst out laughing, shaking your head at him.

“You love it,” He teased, and he wasn’t wrong. Because behind all that reserved, stoic energy, Terry Richmond was a damn goofball at heart. And he was your goofball. The conversation between you and Terry continued, the two of you just vibing, killing time before you had to finally pull yourself away and get in the shower. He told you about a wild dream he had last night—some crazy mix of old memories and future fantasies of the two of you together.

“Man, I swear, I had the realest dream, baby,” He said, voice lazy and deep. “We was laid up in this big-ass house, had the baby in the crib next to us… you was wearin’ my T-shirt, lookin’ all sexy with your lil’ bonnet on, and I just kept pullin’ you closer, not even tryna let you sleep.”

“So you gon’ keep me up even in your dreams?” You laughed, rolling onto your side, twirling the bedsheets between your fingers. 

“Hell yeah,” He said without hesitation. “I been starvin’, baby. Soon as I touch down, I’m eatin’ you up, kissin’ on you, makin’ love to you every chance I get. You gon’ be sick of me.”

“Never that daddy,” You murmured, feeling warmth spread through your body at just the thought of how it would feel to finally have him home.

“Bet,” He chuckled, then let out a deep sigh. “I just be sittin’ in this cell picturing it, picturing us—you in the tub, all soaped up, candles lit, slow jams playin’… me right behind you, holdin’ you close, runnin’ my hands all over that soft ass skin, kissing up your neck… licking on your nipples..”

Your breath hitched, already envisioning the exact same thing. You had put together a playlist for his arrival—nothing but the smoothest 90s and early 2000s R&B, songs that made you wanna melt into somebody’s arms.

“You wanna know what I was thinking about?” You asked, biting your lip.

“What, baby?”  He feigned innocence.

“How you gon’ be sneakin’ into the shower while I’m tryna get ready for work,” you giggled. “Talkin’ about, ‘lemme wake you up the right way’—like I don’t have places to be!”

Terry laughed but then hummed in approval. “Shit, I am waking you up the right way. Gon’ have you walkin’ into work with a smile so big, they gon’ know somebody put it there.”

Your stomach flipped at the thought, heat rising to your cheeks. You were so gone for this man. “You just wait, Richmond,”You teased, sighing dramatically. “You about to be a full-time distraction.”

“That’s my plan, baby.” He grinned through the phone. 

After a few more minutes of sweet talk, you finally sighed. “Alright, I need to get in the shower before I lay here and talk to you all day.”

“I ain’t stoppin’ you,” Terry teased. “I just wanna hear the water runnin’. Let me close my eyes and imagine it.”

“Boy, bye!” You laughed, shaking your head before reluctantly hanging up.

—

The hot water cascaded over your skin as you leaned against the shower wall, letting the warmth soak into your muscles. Your mind was racing with all the intimate moments you’d been daydreaming about since Terry’s release date became a real possibility. Late nights soaking in the tub together, his strong arms wrapped around you, his lips trailing along your shoulder. Waking up to him pulling you into his body, whispering in your ear before making love to you first thing in the morning. The idea of sharing a home, a bed, a life with him made your stomach flip with anticipation. You had been living alone for so long, moving on your own schedule, answering to no one. But now, there would be him. His things mixed with yours, his scent lingering in your sheets, his presence filling the empty spaces. And you couldn’t wait.

Once you finished luxuriating, you stepped out, wrapping yourself in a plush towel. You took your time getting dressed—pulling on a pair of black leggings that hugged your curves and a Nike sports bra, slipping into your most comfortable sneakers. You tied your hair into a sleek bun, then grabbed a baseball cap to shield your eyes from the Georgia sun. After grabbing your Louis Vuitton Speedy 30, you were just about to head out the door when your phone rang and you saw it was Sonya.

You sighed before answering, already bracing yourself. “What’s up, girl?”

“Mm, what you got going on today?” She asked, her tone full of suspicion, like she knew you were up to something.

“Just about to make a quick Target and BJ’s run,” You said casually, hoping she’d just let it go.

“Oh, perfect! I need to hit Target anyway! I’ll meet you there.” She stated. You internally cringed. Sonya didn’t know about Terry yet. And you definitely didn’t need her up in your cart asking a hundred questions about all the men’s products you were grabbing.

“Girl, I’m moving quick today,” You abruptly said, trying to throw her off. “Gotta be in and out, no time for browsing.”

“Please, you never just ‘run in’ anywhere,” Sonya scoffed. “I’ll keep up.”

“Sonya…” You huffed, rubbing your temple. 

“What?” She laughed. “Why you sound so stressed? You tryna move funny or somethin’?”

“You know I move funny, that ain’t new.”You let out a dry laugh. 

“Mhm, and that’s exactly why I’m coming.” She snickered. 

You sighed dramatically, knowing there was no way out of this now. “Fine, I’ll see you there,” You relented, already planning how you were going to strategically avoid letting her see all the things you were picking up for Terry. You hurried up and grabbed your car keys and your Stanley cup from your kitchen counter before heading right out the door to your car. You hit the unlock button on your key fob and heard the chirp. Sliding into the plush leather seat of your Mercedes-Benz, you place your Stanley cup in the cupholder before pressing the push-to-start button. The engine purrs to life, and before you can even adjust the air, the CarPlay screen lights up, immediately blasting the smooth, honeyed vocals of Maxwell’s “Fortunate” through the speakers.

Your heart leaps in excitement. “SING IT, MAXWELL!” You squeal, gripping the steering wheel and swaying your shoulders as if you’re right there on stage with him. 

This is your song. Terry’s song. The one he always sings to you over the phone—completely off-key but with so much passion, like he’s pouring every piece of himself into it. You can still hear him now—“I never sang a song with all my might…”—his deep, rough voice twisting the lyrics into something that sounds nothing like Maxwell, but you never cared. It was him. It was you. It was love. You pull out of the driveway, easing onto the streets of Atlanta, the sun gleaming against the hood of your Benz. The beat of the song wraps around you, filling every inch of the car with warmth. With one hand on the wheel and the other tapping rhythmically against your thigh, you let the city move around you, the skyline stretching high above as you feel the music, feel the love behind every lyric. Terry is coming home. Soon. And as Maxwell’s voice croons through the speakers, you let yourself dream—of slow dances in the living room, of his arms pulling you close as you sway to this very song, of him pressing soft kisses along your shoulder while mumbling the lyrics into your ear.You exhale, your lips curling into a soft, knowing smile. It’s only a matter of time.

Pulling into the Target parking lot, you let out a long, heavy sigh, gripping the wheel as you mentally prepared yourself for Sonya. You loved your girl—no doubt about it. Sonya was one of those ride-or-die friends who would cut up with you on a Saturday night and pray with you on Sunday morning. But she was also the kind of woman who didn’t know the meaning of boundaries. She always had to be up in the mix, tasting the flavor, giving unsolicited advice even when it wasn’t needed. And it wasn’t that you didn’t want to share Terry with your girls—because you did. He was your man, and you were proud of him.

But you wanted to make sure this was real. That this was happening. That he was actually going to be home before you started bragging and boasting about him to your family and friends. You couldn’t count how many times you’d gotten excited about a brotha, only for him to turn out to be a disappointment. And every time, you had to do the walk of shame, explaining to everyone that it didn’t work out. You hated the look of disappointment on your mother’s face, the I told you so smirk on your sister’s lips, and God forbid Sonya’s infamous, “I knew that nigga wasn’t shit.” speeches. And then there was Deja, who always chimed in with, “Girl, want me to get my cousin to kill him?”

You loved your girls, but the last two years had been a sacred kind of peace. You had cultivated this private, intense, deeply intimate relationship with Terry while he was behind bars, and there was something pure about keeping it just between the two of you. You knew that sometimes, outside influence could ruin a good thing, and you weren’t ready to share your world just yet. But if things aligned perfectly—if the odds were in your favor, if the judge signed off, and if God was looking out for you—then they would meet him the night of your birthday outing. You just hoped everything would fall into place. You hopped out of the car, grabbing your Louis Vuitton Speedy 30 from the passenger seat and slinging it over your arm. Just as you shut the door, you spotted Sonya standing near the entrance, her arms crossed, her stance already radiating irritation. You took a deep inhale, bracing yourself, then walked over, greeting her with a quick hug.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” You asked, noticing her sour expression.

“Chile, my damn hairstylist just sent me that infamous ‘Hey boo’ text, and I just know it’s about to be some bullshit.” Sonya sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.

“That’s why I told you to stop going to her, Sonya. She’s unprofessional as hell and always canceling on you at the last minute.” You snorted and shook your head. 

“I know, I know,” She whined dramatically, throwing her hands up. “But girl, she know how to lay my damn wigs. She makes that lace look like scalp! I do not wanna go to nobody else!”

You laughed, grabbing a cart and rolling into the store with her. You weren’t even five steps inside before you gave her a knowing look and smirked. “I don’t even know why you waste your time getting them wigs laid, knowing Omar gon’ pull that shit right off your head and have your lace looking crazy by the end of the night.”

“You ain’t lying, girl. You really ain’t lying.” Sonya stuck her tongue out at you before giggling, clearly thinking about how wild her and her man got. 

You shook your head, laughing as you made your way toward the laundry aisle, grabbing detergent, fabric softener, and some cleaning products. You wanted the house to be

perfect for Terry’s homecoming—fresh sheets, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air, everything spotless for his arrival.

As you reached for a bottle of Febreze, Sonya nudged you. “So… you excited for your birthday?”

“Yeah… I really am.” You smiled, biting your lip as you nodded. Truth be told you were more excited for Terry’s arrival than your own birthday. For as long as you could remember you weren’t the most excited to celebrate your birthday. To you, it was just another day and another reminder that you were leaving your glorious twenties and getting closer to hitting your dirty thirties. That is until Terry came into your life and shifted your perspective on life itself. He taught you that every birthday should be celebrated and that life is too short to not celebrate the breath in your lungs and waking up everyday. Especially with his circumstances and how his life got snatched from him because he chose to do the right thing and defend his mother’s honor against her abuser, but in the end it wasn’t so honorable and his dreams and young life got cut short with the snap of a finger. So this year you chose to have a better outlook on your birthday, thanks to your baby Terry. 

 You continued to move swiftly through Target, pushing your cart with concentration, mentally checking off everything Terry will need once he’s home. You start with the Dove Men+Care bar soap, grabbing a few packs because you know the fresh, clean scent will suit him. Next is the Old Spice body wash—the deep, rich, masculine fragrance makes you weak in the knees, so you know it’ll be perfect for him. You toss it in the cart, followed by men’s deodorant, mouthwash, and toothpaste—because even though you’ve never stood close enough to breathe him in, you already decided that your man will smell fresh, clean, and irresistible.

You head down the haircare aisle, running your fingers over the different bottles before settling on a moisturizing shampoo and conditioner. You know prison air is dry as hell, and you’re not about to have your man coming home with his hair brittle and neglected. A large jar of Palmer’s whipped cocoa butter goes into the cart next—you love how smooth and rich it feels against your skin, and you can already picture yourself rubbing it into his arms, his shoulders, his hands… making sure he’s soft and well taken care of. Just as you’re reaching for a pack of Dude Wipes, Sonya turns from the next aisle, glancing over at your cart. She tilts her head, her perfectly arched brows raising as she takes in all the men’s products sitting inside.

“Uh-uh. Who’s all this for?” She asks, crossing her arms. Your heart skips a beat.

“Oh!” You force out a laugh, thinking quick. “My sister’s in town with her fiancé, and they’re staying at my mom’s house. She needed some stuff to keep there for him.”

Sonya narrows her eyes for a second, then shrugs. “Oh okay, that makes sense. I was about to say, girl, you got a whole grown man’s starter kit in there.”

You laugh nervously, nodding as you grip the handle of your cart, pushing forward. Just when you think you’re in the clear, your phone buzzes in your purse. You glance down and see the caller ID: Terry’s lawyer. Your stomach instantly tightens. He already called earlier—so why is he calling again?

“Hey, hold on,” You tell Sonya, trying to keep your voice light. “I gotta take this real quick.”

“Cool, I’ll meet you at checkout.” Sonya waves you off, already distracted by something on the next shelf. Stepping out of the aisle, you answer, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answer, voice low. 

“We’ve got a problem,” His lawyer says, his voice urgent.Your body stiffens.

“What? What happened?” You held your breath. 

“There’s been an incident in the prison yard. Terry was involved.” He deeply sighs. Your heart  plummets straight to your ass because you told this nigga—.

“WHAT?!” You shout, loud enough that people around you turn their heads. You clamp a hand over your mouth, forcing yourself to breathe, to stay calm.

“I’m still gathering details,” His lawyer continues, “ But from what I’m hearing, there was some kind of altercation. If the judge catches wind of this, his release could be revoked… or at the very least, stalled.”

The words ring in your ears, drowning out the noise of the store. Revoked?! Stalled?!Your hands start to tremble on the cart handle, your vision blurring with tears. Just when you thought you were so close to having him home—just when everything was falling into place—here comes some bullshit.

“Please… just tell me he’s okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. You swallow hard, gripping the phone tighter.

“I really don’t know. I’m working on it. I’ll call you back when I know more.” He sighed again, sounding defeated. Then the line goes dead, making you tear up. You stood frozen in the middle of Target, your world spinning, your stomach in knots. And just like that, everything you had been dreaming of, praying for, feels like it’s slipping right through your fingers.

This couldn't be happening right now, not right now....

@captainwithoutmakingitlove

@naughtynolly-blog

@theglamclosetsl

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes

@fakxmbj

@solunaseira

@noir-lullaby

@kirayuki22

@blyffe

@planetblaque

@blackchickinthedesert

@megamindsecretlair

@teeresaresa

@kaylaahisthebestest-

@hotebonynearby

@lavaniiii

@cardi-bre91

[joecoolburrow]

Something Funnier Than 24

Summary: Reader and Joe fall in love over a lunch date and Spongebob references

Pairings: boyfriend!Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Oneshot! Words: 1076

a/n: I don't have a masterlist because this is my first time writing for Joe! Please let me know if you enjoy it and want more. <3

It was going well. Your first two dates with Joe were romantic and you felt yourself falling. But, it was still so new you found yourself unable to relax around him, and you could tell Joe felt the same. So you felt like a bundle of nerves when Joe knocked on your door this afternoon.

It's just a casual matinee and lunch you told yourself to calm down.

"Hey." You greeted him with a shy smile.

Joe smiled brightly. Even in a t-shirt and jean he looked like a dream.

"Hey, you look great." He said as he admired you in your sundress. "Ready to go?"

"Hell yeah."

Joe laughed. Your eagerness was earnest but maybe not the most tactful. You felt a twinge of embarrassment, hoping Joe wasn't put off. He took your hand as you walked to the car.

Riding in a Porsche still felt foreign to you, but you tried not to let it show.

An awkward silence fell as the two of you drove off. Internally cursing your social skills (or lack-thereof), you hoped the movie and lunch would bring you closer together. You'd chosen some generic comedy that probably wouldn't be that good, but would likely give you a few laughs.

"Do you like Will Ferrell movies?" You asked.

"He's ok." Joe shrugged and didn't take his eyes off the rode. "My family watches Elf every Christmas."

"Mine too! It's a classic."

Joe smiled.

"I think comedy and action are my favorite movie genres. What about you?"

"Uh," Joe twisted his lips. "I like everything except horror movies."

"Really?" You said with surprise. "I love scary movies!"

"Not my thing."

Another awkward silence. Shit, you thought to yourself. Joe was such an amazing guy. You felt the spark. You dreamed of what loving him would be like. But moments like this made you worry you weren't compatible.

Joe reached for the radio and turned the volume up. "I love this song. Do you know it?"

You really wished you could say yes. But you had no idea what song was playing or who the artist was, so you shook your head.

The rest of the ride you and Joe made small talk. The movie was fine, nothing special, but you loved seeing Joe laugh. There were a few times you'd both burst out laughing and turn to look at each other. It felt like fireworks.

After the movie, you went to a local diner. It had an old school vibe. Joe helped you into the red booth in the back and picked up a menu.

"This is the perfect place for a cheeseburger." You said.

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "I started craving one when we were still in the parking lot."

"They have 30 different milkshakes to choose from." Joe said

"Mmm, I'm gonna have a hard time deciding." You said, even though you knew you'd probably go for strawberry like usual.

"Pick a good one, I'll split it with you."

Why did that suddenly feel like a lot of pressure? You carefully studied the list and weighed your options.

A waiter in a paper hat came up to your table and smiled, "What can I get the cute couple?"

Joe looked at you.

"Umm, could we please get the strawberry banana milkshake? Two straw please." You told the waiter. "And two cheeseburgers."

He winked. "A number 24, coming right up."

As the waiter walked away you smiled to yourself. 24. Joe looked at you curiously.

"24." You said, unsure if he would get it. "I thought of something funnier than 24...

"25!!!" Joe and you said at the same time. You erupted in laughter with him.

"I always think of that whenever I hear the numbers 24 or 25." You told him as you regained your composure. "I was hoping you would get that. A lot of people think I'm insane when I say it."

"I think of Spongebob quotes all the time." Joe said enthusiastically.

He moved his hands in a rainbow motion, "Imagination!"

You couldn't hold back your giggles.

You picked up one of the mayo packets on the table and quoted, "Is mayonnaise an instrument?"

Joe's whole face turned red from laughing. When he caught he breath, he said, "What about: The pioneers used to ride these babies for miles!"

"The Krusty Krab pizza is the pizza for you and me-he" You sang.

Your eyes met Joe's and something just clicked. There it was. The ease, the comfort, the friendship. You felt like you could be your true, quirky self with him and he would embrace it.

"I've never dated anyone who liked Spongebob as much as me." Joe admitted.

"Me either."

The milkshake came and you felt giddy as you and Joe both plopped your straws in. You leaned in for a sip, but Joe held up a finger signaling to wait. He suddenly grabbed his phone. You were a little confused, but a moment later, your phone dinged.

It was a text from Joe: "Is this the Krusty Krab?"

You tried to keep a straight face as you replied, "No, this is Patrick." but the laughter got the best of you.

You spent the rest of lunch talking about all your favorite Spongebob episodes, which lead to talking about your childhoods, which lead to talking about your favorite memories, which lead to more laughter. You felt like you knew Joe so much better than you had just a few hours ago.

On the ride home, you leaned your head onto his shoulder. You felt comfortable and at peace. When Joe pulled in to your driveway, he looked at you with a pout.

"This may be lame, but that was the most fun I've had on a date in....." Joe trailed off. "in forever."

"Me too."

He stroked your shoulder. You both leaned in for a kiss as if magnetized. His lips were so soft and sweet.

When you looked into each other's eyes again, you saw Joe's adoring eyes and wished the moment would last forever.

"Are you busy the rest of the day? Because I'd really like it if you wnated to come in." You asked, internally begging the gods of fate he would say yes, but unsure if he had other plans today.

"I can. But-" Joe smirked mischieviously. "Don't you have to be stupid somewhere else."

You kissed him again. He responded enthusiastically, but you broke it off to whisper in his ear.

"Not until four."

[melodyreads]

Our Little Secret

You and Hamzah are in a secret relationship. While you guys kept each other a secret to protect one another, was it really what you both wanted?

Contains: fem reader, angst, confused reader, lack of communication, arguing, happy ending <3

a/n: I appreciate all the love I've received for my most recent works. Hope you guys enjoy this one, it's definitely my best yet.

---

From an outside perspective, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this situation. Just two couples out on a double date. Me, Mandy, Martin, and Hamzah grabbing dinner at our usual pizza spot. Nothing suspicious. Nothing complicated. Just friends catching up.

Mandy waved kindly as she saw me approach their group. Martin stood next to her seemingly making a joke to Hamzah as he stood there with his hands in his pockets wearing a neutral expression on his face. That was, until he saw me arrive.

A familiar feeling of excitement filled my stomach at the look on Hamzah’s face. I wanted to run up to him and throw my arms around him while greeting him with a kiss. He would smile down at me as his left hand placed itself in my back jean pocket.

Except, of course, Martin and Mandy were the only couple actually together. 

I guess you could say me and Hamzah were together too. We basically lived at each other's apartments, always leaving clothes in each other's space. I would wake up to Hamzah’s messy curls aghast on the pillow next to mine. I would plant his face with kisses as he grabbed my waist and pulled me on top of him.  

We were together, but in a, “we don’t want to put a label on it” kind of way. No commitments, no pressure—just what we wanted.

I wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

For me, it was about not wanting anything serious right now. I wanted to protect my relationship with Hamzah, what we had was different than anything I had experienced with boyfriends in the past.

For Hamzah, it had more to do with his online image— he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with their fans' inevitable perceptions of you if you two were to date. I joked that he was just playing up the “I’m available” act for his followers. He would always roll his eyes but I’m sure this was part of it.

If people found out we were together, it’d ruin the whole thing. Which is why I had to be extra careful. Even around our best friends.

So imagine my horror when, halfway through dinner, Martin suddenly narrows his eyes at me.

“Hey… isn’t that Hamzah’s sweater?”

The table goes silent and my stomach drops.

I freeze with my pizza halfway to my mouth, my brain scrambling for a response. The oversized grey hoodie I’m wearing is definitely Hamzah’s— the words “nap queen” in black letters I envisioned on my chest made me want to laugh and bury my head in my hands at the same time. I didn’t even think about it when I threw it on before leaving.

It even smelled like him.

I set my pizza down trying to brush it off, “Am I not allowed to wear your guys merch anymore? Y’all should be grateful.” I say acting offended.

Mandy’s eyes flick between me and Hamzah, who—thank god—keeps his expression cool, shoveling food into his mouth as he nodded his head at my response..

Martin, however, is still staring. “I swear that one is yours though, isn’t it Hamzah? It has the exact same material as the one you wear. ”

I let out a short laugh, trying to play it off. “I’m not sure why because this one is mine.” My voice started to shake

Pull it together.

“It looks exactly like Hamzah’s,” Martin insists. He turns to Mandy. “Doesn’t it?”

Mandy shrugs, sipping her drink. “A lot of those hoodies look the same.”

Hamzah finally speaks, his voice casual but just a little too fast. “Yeah, man, it’s just a hoodie. All those hoodies look the same, part of the reason we sold so many.”

Martin still looks unconvinced, but he lets it go, turning his attention back to his food. My entire body is tense, and across the table, I can feel Hamzah suppressing a smirk.

Under the table, his finger interlocks with mine, a slow, deliberate touch that sends a jolt up my spine. I flick my eyes toward him, and there’s something smug in his gaze—something knowing.

I roll my eyes at him, trying to ignore the way my face feels hot.

That was too close.

But the truth is, I kind of love the risk. I love the way we sneak glances at each other when no one’s looking, the way my body reacts when he’s just close enough to touch but doesn’t. I love the late nights, the whispered conversations, the fact that we’re both holding onto something we’re pretending we don’t want to name.

God I wanted him bad.

---

The party was loud—too loud. Music pulsed through the walls, and the mix of voices, laughter, and the occasional clatter of a drink being set down filled the air. Mandy and Martin were off in their own little world, and I had lost track of most people in the crowd.

Hamzah settled next to me "How're you doing?" he asked, leaning down to meet my ears while looking out into the sea of people.

I sighed in response, "Alright, I guess..." I snapped my head to meet Hamzah's dark eyes, "...Can we go home soon?" I asked sticking out my bottom lip. He chuckled before leaning down once more.

"Come with me," he murmured, his voice just low enough for only me to hear.

I barely had time to react before his fingers brushed against my wrist—just a ghost of a touch, but enough to send a jolt through me. Before I knew it, I was being pulled down the hall, away from the noise, away from prying eyes.

He didn’t stop until we were inside an empty room, the door clicking shut behind us. The sudden quiet made my pulse hammer in my ears.

"Wait, what if someone sees?" I whispered, even though I was far too gone to start moving away from him.

Hamzah exhaled, leaning back against the door with a sly look covering his face. His eyes were dark, and the dim lighting cast sharp shadows on his face. "I don't care," he said.

That was a lie. He did care. We both did. That was the whole reason we were keeping this secret.

And yet… here we were.

The tension thickened in the air between us, something unspoken crackling like a wire about to snap. Hamzah's jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his sides before he finally gave in, stepping closer.

I barely had time to breathe before his hands cupped my face, his touch gentle despite the desperation in his eyes. This was the last look I could register before his lips were on mine.

A slow, deep kiss started, stealing the air from my lungs, and making my heart stutter.

I wanted this. God, I wanted this.

But before I could get too carried away, I thought of where we could have been. Kissing in the middle of a crowd, unwavering concerns about what others around us thought. His hand in mine not hidden beneath a table, but revealed proudly.

The weight of it—the secret, the hiding, the way we only allowed ourselves these moments in the dark—it was all too much.

A sharp pang in my chest pulled me back to reality. Before I could stop myself, I tore away, my breath ragged.

“Hamzah, I—” My voice broke, my hands shaking as I stepped back. “I can’t keep doing this.”

His brows furrowed, his hands hovering in the empty space between us like he wanted to pull me back but knew he shouldn’t. “What do you mean... what's wrong?”

I forced a swallow, blinking hard. “Being with you in secret... it just hurts too much.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but the way Hamzah flinched made it clear he heard every word.

His lips parted, like he was about to say something, but I couldn’t stand there and let him try to fix it with more whispered reassurances, more stolen touches that would only leave me aching for something real.

Before he could even get a word out, I was already out the door.

I pushed past the crowd, the music and chatter barely registering. My chest was tight, my pulse racing. I needed air.

I needed to get out of here.

The cold night air hit me as I stepped outside, but it didn't stop me. As I started to come to terms with what just happened, tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill. I sucked in a sharp breath, hugging my arms around myself, trying to shake the feeling of Hamzah’s hands still lingering on my skin.

Then, I heard determined footsteps tracking behind me.

“Wait.”

Hamzah’s voice.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to turn around. But then his hand caught mine, stopping me in my tracks.

I exhaled shakily as he moved in front of me, his brows furrowed, his expression torn between frustration and desperation. Whatever it was caused your whole body to shudder.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” he said, his voice rough, his grip tightening just slightly, “Not if it means losing you.”

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering. “What about your whole ‘single guy’ thing? What about—”

“Screw all that,” he cut me off, shaking his head. “None of it matters if it means I can’t be with you. I don’t care who knows.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest, knocking the air out of me.

I searched his face, looking for hesitation, for doubt. But there was none. Just him—bare, vulnerable, real.

A shaky laugh left my lips, part disbelief, part relief. “Are you sure about this?”

Hamzah let out a soft chuckle, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from my face before resting gently against my cheek. “Yeah, I mean it.” His thumb traced my skin, slow and reverent. “I want you. For real.”

I didn’t need any more convincing.

This time, when I reached out and kissed him, I wasn’t thinking about the consequences. About who was watching or who would care. What came next and what the future held.

From now on, we came first.

---

a/n: Hope you'll enjoyed this!!!!! It's so hard to end stories, but I think I'm getting better at it lol. Lmk if you guys want a part two????????

[merlucide]

THE MIYA SIBLINGS…

Oh your absolutely insufferable, stupid, annoying brothers (..that you guess.. you kinda love..) drive you freakin’ bonkers! Life as a first-year with two obnoxious third-year brothers isn’t easy, and yet, somehow, every day is its own brand of chaos. So, what does an average day in the Miya household look like? Well… here’s a glimpse.

pairings: Miya twins x youngersister!reader (NOT SHIP)

type: Headcannons/blurbs + SMAU (texts, twt)

genre: crack, fluff, comfort

key: y/n = your name n/n = nickname

warnings: cursing, the twins embarrassing reader, reader has no friends lmao, shit/piss mentions, the twins being pervs (yk that tho)

—————————————————————————

Everyone at Inarizaki knew the Miya twins. And then they found out about the Miya siblings.

When you first came to Inarizaki, walking around with their man (aka Atsumu and Osamu), the Miya fangirls immediately took notice. At first, they thought you were a girlfriend—until they learned the shocking truth: the Miya twins have a younger sister?!

That’s when the befriending attempts began. They’d wait outside your classroom, invite you to lunch, and you honestly thought they ?? just really wanted?? To be friends you?? It felt really nice!

But the moment they opened their mouths, it was all, “Eeeeeek! Your brothers are soooo hot!!!”

And you were just like, ‘oh’ ‘🧍‍♀️😑’

 Yeah those ‘friendships’ did not last very long… 

—-And obviously you were popular with amongst the boys. The Miya curse I fear. Samu did nawt approve of your new popularity lol. Tsumu was jealous that people were talking about YOU and not HIM lmao— tho tsumu LOVES bragging about you/showing you off. He’s like ‘oh yeah my baby sister can do this!—‘ ‘welll MYYY sister can do that better than YOURRR sister’

Anywho the twins love having you at the same school!!! Atsumu always stops by your class during breaks either to talk to you or just piss you off lmao. Osamu ends up being your unofficial walking schedule lol (not that surprising tbh) ‘Ain’t ya supposed to be in the library?’ ‘Didn’t ya say ya had a quiz today?’ ‘Why are ya here? Don’t ya got PE?’ He flicks your forehead (affectionate) and is like ‘get to class’ 🙄+😐

(You got him his bowl)

When it comes to typical overprotective older sibling behavior, Osamu takes the crown. He’ll literally insert himself into any conversation you have with a guy—every. single. time. It’s actually the worst. He will embarrass you and terrify the guy. One time a guy came over, all confident trying to talk to you. Before you could even react, Osamu literally stepped in front of you, staring the guy down like he was an inconvenience to his entire existence.

Then with the most uninterested, deadpan expression ever, he just like ‘no’

He won’t let anything start 😒 you def ignore him after he pulls shit like that. He dgaf tho lmao

Atsumu, on the other hand, is like your wingman, sorta.. He hypes up your crushes, encourages the flirting… but the second things actually start progressing (ex:lovey-dovey texts, potential boyfriend territory, lingering touches), he’s suddenly all up in your business—and the poor guy’s too. He’ll casually throw an arm around both you and the guy, all smiles, and go, ‘So, how’s it goin’?😁’

you’re glaring daggers at him your eyes screaming ‘Tsumu, istg I’m gonna kill you’ and the guy’s practically slithering away while you whisper-scream at Atsumu while he acts all innocent. Oooooor he’ll just shriek and yank you away saying how ‘yer too little for boys’, while glaring at said guy.

But if you ever wanna hang out with anyone he’ll try to set smth up for ya!! (As long as he approves of who)

Osamu is nawt good at trying to show his love 🧍‍♀️ his love languages are quality time, acts of service, and physical touch (sorta, he’s not rlly good at it but wants to be close yk?). Like he won’t initiate (most the time) but if you hug him he’ll hug you back. He just like asks if you want him to take you somewhere or smth. He shows his care for ya n tsumu by making food all the time, it’s what he’s good at and loves, and loves that you both love it. He also always wants to be there for ya. Samu is great emotional support, he doesn’t say a lot but says EXACTLY what you need to hear. Will just sit with you and let you get what you need off your chest. He’ll put his arm around you and rub up and down. 

Atsumu is very unique at showing his love 🧍‍♀️ his love languages are physical touch, words of affirmation, and quality time. When you were little Atsumu and Osamu would both hold your hand when you would walk around, and when you got older and wouldn’t hold his hand anymore he was so sad 😭🙏 he’s a hugger, but he’s still your older brother, so he’ll like mess your hair up then hug you lmao. Always asks if you wanna practice with him, he always feels cool teaching you something new :)

Atsumu is also your number one hype man like if you ever feel like you can’t do smth tsumu has a whole list of just exactly why/how you can. He’s not even trying to make you feel better it’s what he genuinely believes :)

Oh and they are both way too invested in any drama you’re involved in/even just aware of. The second you run into the room and announce, “I’ve got tea,”they’re already locked in, heads propped on their hands, eyes wide like you’re about to deliver the most important news of their lives.

‘Spill NOW’

—————————————————————————

tags: @sharkissm @someprettyname @fishii28 @shrii-kk

well this is all I have for Miya siblings rn 😔😔 tumblr will only let me upload 30 images, I had more 🧍‍♀️🙏

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I do!! I love Miya siblings so much ughhhh I wish they were my older brothers sooo bad it HURTs

lemme know what you think!!!! I LOVE FEEDBACK!!

—————————————————————————

made February 11th 2025

[fandomfablesunleashed]

Kitten's Valentine

Sylus x reader (can be MC, but doesn't have to be, but is a Hunter)

Summary: Somehow, you were set to spend Valentine’s Day with Sylus.

Words: 1k

Notes: For the Valentine’s Week event. This is my first time posting for LADS, but I recently started playing and quickly got hooked.

English is not my first language

Masterlist

You couldn't believe it. Somehow, you were supposed to spend Valentine’s Day with Sylus.

It had started with a simple text:

“Any plans on Friday, sweetie?”

“I have work in the morning.”

“And in the evening?”

“Nothing, why?”

“Great. I'll see you then, kitten”

That should have been your first warning.

When you returned to your apartment on that day, the sight that greeted you was… absurd. The door barely closed behind you when your eyes fell on the mountain of packages stacked neatly in your living room. They were everywhere—colorful, extravagant, and so over the top. There were flowers, too, blooming in full force as if they were made to fit some grand, romantic scene straight out of a movie.

You walked closer, your heart sinking as you began to open the boxes. Inside, you found clothes that were beyond your wildest dreams—silk, velvet, and lace, all in shades that would flatter you perfectly. Jewelry that sparkled just a bit too brightly, shoes that you could only dream about.

Nestled among them was a single card:

“Pick whatever you like the most, kitten.”

You scoffed. The whole thing was over the top, but what grated at you the most wasn’t the lavish gifts, but the fact that Sylus had chosen things you actually liked. Not only did they reflect your taste, but they seemed… personal.

You sifted through the mountain of luxurious clothing and selected an outfit that, for all its extravagance, did seem to suit you best. With a huff, you slipped it on, the fabric smooth and unfamiliar against your skin. You didn’t want to admit it, but you looked damn good.

Just as you were about to leave, your watch went off—Wanderers. You couldn’t ignore it. A flare up, something out of the ordinary. You'd have to investigate.

You grabbed your jacket and bolted toward the door, but before you could even step into the hallway, your phone buzzed. You paused, irritated, and glanced at the message. It was from Sylus.

“Don’t get blood on your outfit, we have reservations at seven.”

You froze. How did he know?

Your heart skipped a beat, part of you irritated, the other part—unreasonably—flattered. He always seemed to be one step ahead of you. Frustrated, you pushed the thought away. No time for distractions. There was work to do.

You rounded the corner, ready to face the threat head-on, but instead, you came face to face with a sight you didn’t expect.

Sylus.

Leaning casually against the alley wall, his arms crossed, his signature smirk dancing at the edges of his lips.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Making sure you're not late for our date, kitten.” he replied, that infuriatingly smooth tone of his laced with a hint of amusement.

Annoying. Infuriating. Predictable.

Still, there was no time to argue. You both knew what came next. The fight was swift and efficient. You barely needed to exchange words, your movements synchronized, like two people who’d done this far too many times together. The Wanderer didn’t stand a chance.

When the creature finally crumpled to the ground, defeated, Sylus turned to you with that same smirk, as if nothing unusual had happened.

“Excellent. Now we can focus on ourselves. Shall we, sweetie?”

You tried to hold back a sigh, but it escaped anyway. He was impossible.

The ride was fast, the city lights flashing by in a blur, a streak of neon and streetlamps blending together like some surreal dream. You barely had time to collect your thoughts before the car came to a halt. When you stepped out and saw the restaurant, you stopped dead in your tracks.

It was empty. Entirely. Not a single soul in sight, save for the staff standing by, waiting for your arrival.

“Did you rent the entire place?” you asked, one eyebrow arching in disbelief.

Sylus smiled that signature, knowing smile, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

You felt your annoyance flare just slightly, though the sight of the empty restaurant was… well, it was impressive, if not a little intimidating. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Maybe so,” he said, leaning in just a bit closer, his tone turning playful. “But I could. Is that a problem, kitten?”

You sighed, the sharpness in your breath betraying the fact that you were undeniably touched by the gesture, despite your best efforts to stay aloof. “No,” you muttered, conceding.

“Then relax,” he said, his voice softening just enough to disarm you.

And eventually, you did.

Dinner was… nice. Unnervingly nice. It was hard not to, with the soft glow of candles on the table, the intimate, quiet atmosphere. His usual teasing remarks were still there, of course—his words light, but there was an undeniable tenderness behind them that kept you on edge. 

The meal came to a natural end, and Sylus escorted you back to your apartment with the same effortless charm he always had.

“Well, kitten, thank you for a lovely night.”

For a brief moment, you just stood there, unsure of how to respond. But then—something reckless, something you hadn’t expected, took over. Without thinking, you leaned in.

The soft brush of your lips against his was all it took for Sylus to freeze, the familiar confidence slipping for just a second. For once, Sylus seemed caught off guard, his breath hitching before he kissed you back—slow, deliberate, as if he couldn’t believe this moment was real.

When you pulled away, your pulse racing, he looked at you with pure admiration. 

“Does that mean you enjoyed yourself, sweetie?”

You rolled your eyes.

“As if you don’t know the answer.”

[sturniololuvz]

Could you do one where there sister was always clingy since she was little and still is now that she’s 15 and always needs to be near them or can’t sleep alone cause she’s scared they’d die in there sleep lmao hope that makes sense

yess! that’s so cute , 🩷

“Always With You”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings : none

Ever since she was little, Y/N had always been attached to her brothers. She followed them everywhere—whether it was playing outside, watching movies, or even just sitting in the same room while they scrolled through their phones. She never liked being alone.

At first, the triplets thought it was just a little kid thing. She was their baby sister, always clinging to their sides, always holding onto Chris’s sleeve, Matt’s hoodie, or Nick’s arm. But even as she grew older, it never really went away.

Now, at 15, she still found herself needing to be close to them. It wasn’t just about feeling safe—it was about them being safe.

Because what if something happened? What if she went to bed and woke up, and one of them was gone?

It was an irrational fear, she knew that. But it didn’t stop the tight feeling in her chest at night, the way her heart pounded whenever she thought about sleeping alone. It wasn’t just discomfort—it was pure fear.

And the triplets noticed.

“Y/N,” Nick said one night as they were all in the living room, the TV playing some random movie none of them were really watching. “You’re tired. Just go to bed.”

She shook her head quickly, curling up tighter against the couch. “I’m good.”

Chris raised a brow. “You’re literally falling asleep sitting up.”

Matt nudged her with his foot. “Just go to your room, dumbass.”

But she couldn’t. Not if they weren’t coming with her.

“I don’t wanna sleep alone,” she admitted quietly, eyes fixed on the floor.

The boys exchanged a look. They had known for years that Y/N didn’t like being alone at night. It had started when she was little—sneaking into their rooms, crawling into one of their beds, clinging to whoever was closest. But at 15, she still struggled with it.

Chris sighed, but it wasn’t in annoyance—it was understanding. “Alright, c’mon.”

She looked up at him. “What?”

“We’ll crash in your room,” he said casually, standing up and stretching. “It’s not a big deal.”

Nick smirked. “Yeah, we already know you’re gonna sneak into one of our rooms anyway, might as well make it easier.”

Matt rolled his eyes but stood up too. “You’re lucky we love you.”

Y/N’s chest swelled with relief. She knew some people might think it was weird, that at 15 she should’ve grown out of this by now. But her brothers never made her feel bad about it.

As they all crowded into her room, blankets and pillows scattered everywhere, she finally felt at peace.

“Thanks,” she murmured as she curled up next to Chris, Matt already half-asleep on the floor and Nick scrolling through his phone.

Chris ruffled her hair. “Always, dummy.”

And with them beside her, she could finally sleep, knowing they were safe.

[deadhands69]

Cute When You Stutter

loser!Shigaraki x gn/afab Reader

suggestive ▷ smut ▷ fluff

part 1 ▷ next

[series masterlist]

Grocery shopping with your boss is always an adventure, today especially so. You swear half your job is trying to get him to live on more than instant ramen cups and energy drinks. 

“You need to eat a vegetable,” you plead for the fourth time today. He makes a scrunched up face in response. You’re about to offer sexual favors in exchange for him eating healthy but turns out there’s no need. He throws a bag of baby carrots in the cart before wandering off somewhere. You continue shopping, knowing he’ll pop up eventually.

Pausing at the Valentine’s aisle, you make a quick turn. Even after critiquing Shigaraki’s diet, you can’t help it. You find yourself mesmerized by the shiny colorful wrappers. Grabbing a few bags of chocolates and conversation hearts for everyone, you throw them in the cart with the rest of the groceries. You could wait a few days for day-after candy sales but by then all the good stuff will be picked through. 

Without warning, you hear a loud giggle followed by your asshole ex appearing at the other side of the aisle. An attractive girl clings to his arm, it nauseates you to think you used to do the same.

“Oh, hey y/n,” his fake smile flashes in front of you, “this is my girlfriend.” He emphasizes the word, as if it means that much to you. Turning to her, he tells her to toss whatever she wants in the cart. She does so, racking up quite the pile of pink and red. They’re both clearly dressed for a date while you’re in the baggiest sweatpants and hoodie you own. You don’t want to care, but it’s hard not to compare yourself to them. 

It’s fine though, you’re over it. You were over it the moment you found out he was cheating on you and realized the person you thought you were dating doesn’t exist. It sucked, absolutely, but it’s been a while now and you’re definitely over him.

Here’s the thing though… as much as you don’t care about him, his opinions of you, or how pretty the girl on his arm is (okay, you care a little about that in a worried-about-her-run-girl-run kind of way but whatever) there’s still an involuntary twinge in your gut watching him trying to flaunt his amazing life in your face. Worse, you can already picture the looks of pained sympathy from all of your mutual friends after he will inevitably spin this into some weird thing to make you look pathetic without him like he did when you broke up.

No, you can’t let that happen. Not again.

Shigaraki walks around the corner, arms full of ramen packets. At least some of them appear to have vegetables in them.

“Hey, these were on sale and I got as many as I could carry but-” you practically knock them out of his hands, grabbing him by the shoulders and leaning into his ear. 

“Play along,” you whisper. His eyes widen.

You keep it subtle. Not laying it on thick as much as your ex, you don’t want to make it look like he got to you in any way. Brushing your hand against the back of Shigaraki’s arm, leaning into him, normal “look this is my boyfriend” stuff. He tries to play along as much as he can, but stiffens at your touch. You run your fingers over his shoulder and notice his hands shaking. 

“It’s okay,” you mouth before reaching for his hand. You’re careful to only grab two of his fingers and his palm, avoiding all five. Pushing the cart down the aisle, you try to stroll past them as casually as possible, while his new girlfriend continues filling the cart with plushies and candy. You sneak a glance at Shigaraki who looks mortified but it would be hard to miss the way his pants tighten in the front. In spite of all of this, he still hasn’t pulled his hand from you. The two of you walk all the way to the checkstand like this. As you approach the self check aisle, he abruptly realizes he's still holding on and yanks away from you, looking rattled.

“Do you know how dangerous what you did was?” he asks as you walk out to the car.

“You didn’t hate it,” you shrug, knowing fully well what his other hand was adjusting in his pocket earlier.

“No, but…still,” you unlock the trunk and he quickly moves the bags in before slamming it shut and climbing into the passenger seat. 

“Why do people like guys like that anyways?” he asks as you start the car.

“I honestly don't know.”

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @kalulakunundrum

next - series masterlist - bnha masterlist

[skeletonh0e]

Hi! I have a fun request :3

How about Classic Sans x Reader (gender neutral) where their relationship started off as very close friends which escalated into a friends with benefits relationship before they started dating

Like headcanons on how they would even get into the fwb part of their relationship in the first place and then later Sans realizing he has feelings for them :3

Sorry this took a bit but comin' up! No explicit NSFW but some suggestive stuff here or there obvs given the subject material

Classic Sans x Reader; Friends (with benefits) to Lovers

It all just kind of happens tbh

You two have very natural chemistry, Sans could easily spend hours simply goofing off or chatting about nothing with you. Something just naturally clicks

You both want to spend more time together

And you do

And you keep getting closer as a result

It further helps that you vibe pretty well with a lot of his friends and more importantly Papyrus as well

You're not only a good friend but someone he genuinely trusts and you likewise are able to read him better than mosts are, even able to call him out when he's clearly lying or pulling 'sum bullshit.

The shift in your relationship happens one drunken night when both of you went out to Grillby's, throwing back some shots and having some laughs

The typical shit you to do

But he brings you home (he can still short cut while drunk thankfully) and you invite him to stay the night

He's always found you attractive mind you but he's never attempted to pull anything for various reasons, never the right time, assumed you weren't interested, etc.

And now his mind is fuzzy thanks to liquor, he's in a really good mood because he spent most of the evening hanging out with you, you're all flushed, looking cute and literally inviting him....

You can figure out the rest from there

The morning after is a bit...awkward

He stays! He even made (ordered) you some breakfast for the hangover you both have

A part of him, the part that doesn't want to deal with complicated emotions or situations like these, kind of hopes maybe you'd be drunk enough to forget

But you weren't <3

"Are we....a thing now?"

"we don't have to be we can still just be friends"

"Friends that just hook up?"

".....yeah"

And that kind of settles it, neither of you seem to be aware of any deeper romantic feelings yet or maybe simply in denial about the possibility. Maybe a mix of both who's to say

Tha awkward tension lessens some, you two kind of easing into this new dynamic

Sans isn't exactly a stranger to having friendly hookups, though it's newer ground on your end. The thing is the two of you don't expect to be just....getting intimate so frequently

The second time is in a spur of a moment thing where you two happen to have his house to ourselves

The third time you two get a bit....adventurous at his hot dog stand shall we say

The fourth time? Let's just say it involved a short cut

It's kind of like the same as when you two were just friends who didn't do this kind of stuff, except there is more casual touching than there wasn't before

It's subtle on his end, he's more prone to be closer to you, wrap an arm around you or even lean against you. Meanwhile you're noticeably more handsy

And it doesn't go completely unnoticed

Undyne : .....are you and Sans a thing now?

Y / N : Noo??? The fuck makes you say that?

Undyne : You two weren't this touchy before

You just roll your eyes and tell her to mind her own damn businesses (you know damn well how she looks at Alphys)

I definitely think you realize that your feelings are romantic first rather than platonic or purely lustful, when is a bit unclear probably post cotius when you two are happily snuggled up and just chatting

It's when it hits that you're happy, really happy and you kind of don't want to leave his embrace

....you're in love with this idiot

Sans is slower with it

He's not oblivious to it, he knows he likes you a lot and clearly you two get along well. The bonehead is just a bit hesitant to properly let anyone into his life like that and he doesn't throw words as strong as "love" all willy nilly

However one time while in the moment of passion, he kind of just realized he could get used to doing this with you forever, get used to having you around forever, wanted to have you around forever, needed to have you around forever

The emotions of it hit him like a truck when you're both still reeling from your respective highs, it spills out

"i'm in love with you..."

You blink, not sure if you heard him correctly, "Did you just...?"

And then he fucking teleports away.

You're more than thrown for a loop by it

To his credit he doesn't just avoid you after the fact, the man was just overwhelmed and further overwhelmed himself by saying it before he himself could process it

Still kinda sheepish about it when you two talk and you do bring it up

It was your turn to throw him for a loop by saying you loved him too.

"are we a thing now?"

"Yeah, yeah I'd like to be anyway."

That kind of settles it, you two don't make any big announcement, the most your relationship goes public is just people asking if you two are a thing now

And you both respond yes

Well, you tell them yes, Sans gets cheeky with it

"i'm a thing, they're a thing, guess that settles it."

[lemotmo]

I hope this question makes sense, but at what point do you think the show will want the audience to understand that Buddie is happening?

I mean because some casual viewers claim that it’s not ever happening, won’t ever, couldn’t ever, or some are just entirely oblivious to it happening. If Buck and Eddie were a man and a woman they’d be cheering for it but because it’s 2 men it can’t possibly be romantic seems to be some peoples’ thoughts.

So when will it be made very clear to the audience do you think? Before the first episode even airs, once the new season gets going, or not until the very moment that one of them says it out loud?

Well, first of all... a lot of these people are deliberately obtuse. They don't want to see 'it', because it doesn't fit their headcanon of two handsome firefighters wanting each other instead of some random female love interest.

Throughout the years that I spent in online fandoms I've seen the shift happen between it being 'shameful' to ship two men or two women together to it being accepted and even celebrated.

One of my first experiences with a male/male ship was Sam Seaborn/Josh Lyman from The West Wing. Two men together was called a slash ship back then. This was around the turn of the century.

I didn't actively ship it, because the show was heavily focused on Josh/Donna and I loved their dynamic. But Sam/Josh was definitely looked down upon by a lot of people in the Josh/Donna fandom. It was all kept hush hush and a lot of people found it 'gross' that anyone would want to ship Sam with Josh. I remember cautiously looking up some of the fanfic and being intrigued by the concept of these two guys falling in love. There was a lot of subtext being analysed and it was fascinating. I never told anyone about my interest in the ship, because I was young and I wanted to fit in with the bigger Josh/Donna fandom.

Of course, Josh/Donna ended up happening in season 7. But the thing is that no one ever really doubted that Josh and Donna would one day give in to their attraction for each other. Everyone had accepted from the get-go that they were in love and destined to be together. No one ever saw the same thing in Sam and Josh, who had some amazing interactions. The only people who 'saw' it were the fans who actively shipped it at the time. The people who were willing to see beyond what they showed us and who looked at the subtext.

Then I watched Without a Trace (2002) and I was immediately sold on Danny Taylor/Martin Fitzgerald. They were perfect together and there was so much subtext there. It didn't hurt that the actors had tons of natural chemistry between them. So I actively started shipping them. I made fanart and wrote fanfic and soon after met the best bunch of people I've ever had the privilege of being in a fandom with. We even met up three times in real life to geek out over Danny and Martin.😋

But no matter how much chemistry they had and how well they fit together, both men eventually ended up with women. I wasn't too disappointed, because I had no expectations in the first place. I knew it would never happen.

Now here we are, today in 2025. We have this pair of men. Beautiful co-dependent men who clearly love each other and have great respect for each other. It doesn't hurt that the actors have tons of chemistry together either.

Sure, we get some subtext here and there, but most of the clues and signs aren't subtext at all. They are clear for everyone to see. They are big, bold and deliberately put there for people to pick up on.

And still these people refuse to 'see' it, because it doesn't fit in with what they expect to see on a show like this. It doesn't fit their narrative. 🤷‍♀️

So yeah they've been 'showing' and 'telling' us since season 7 (in some ways it started even earlier during the FOX era) that Buddie is going to be endgame, but the casual viewers who are not as invested don't even think about the possibility and the deliberately obtuse viewers refuse to see it. People like that need a wake up call. They need an anvil to drop on their heads.

So yeah, I think that is exactly what will happen. We'll see some heavy hinting at big emotions concerning Eddie leaving in 8x09 and 8x10. Then Buck is going to realise he is in love with Eddie and he is going to voice it out loud so the audience can hear it and start accepting it. My money is on 8x11 for that scene. As for Eddie? I expect him to realise it a few episodes later, not sure when. And again it will be made clear to the audience (in no uncertain terms) that yes, Eddie has feelings for Buck.

That being said though, I think the Ryan interview might start planting some seeds for Eddie's coming out. I think they'll officially start releasing Eddie Diaz from the closet tomorrow during that Ryan interview. He won't say it, but I do think some things will be implied. But of course, this won't be enough for the nay-sayers. They will need that anvil to drop on their head in 8x11.

So be it.

[anartisticalniche]

Glass Barrier-Lockdown Protocol AU

This fic is based on this art right here: https://www.tumblr.com/anartisticalniche/775015960570675200/there-was-always-a-thin-glass-separating-us?source=share

Enjoy this sad thing lol

“Inmate G-5683, you have visitors.”

The bearded man barely moved his head from his side as he sighed and got up from his bed.

He was sick and tired of relying informations to SMG1 and 2.

It's time they got their shit together and caught his ex-boss.

He's got nothing else to say to them anyways.

He might have been an elite guard but that didn't mean he got to see him up close; not even his superior Wren did.

The guard bots used their laser chains to hold onto his cuffs and neck restraint, guiding him like a dog.

His eye bags were deep and visible, no light in his eyes aside from the luminescent one from the chain.

The swift sound from the door sounded off as his gaze remained on the floor.

He was led to his usual spot, seated in front of the protective glass dividing him from anything that basically was freedom on the outside.

He sighed, preparing for the questions.

“Three…?”

His red eyes took a second but eventually widened when he glanced up and saw the softest gaze on the most beautiful face he had ever seen in his life.

“Hey… how are you holding up?”

Tears threatened to escape from blue eyes across him.

The imprisoned man opened his mouth like a fish.

Eventually words left him: “What… what are you doing here?”

Four smiled as he tipped his head to the side: “Can’t I come visit you?”

“You legally can't yeah-” he said he looked at him with wide eyes; “you have to stay a hundred miles away from me according to the court-”

He huffed and rolled his eyes: “I guess time doesn't matter much to you when you're in your cell. Three years have already passed. That thing they said doesn't apply anymore”.

The scientist said it so casually but to the prisoner it felt like another nail dipping into his skin. Just to let him know that he's staying there forever… to the point time doesn't matter anymore.

Four immediately realized his mistake when he saw his face: “Ah shoot wait I didn't mean it like that- I'm just- I said it because now I can come see you! Isn't that great?”

He was trying to lighten up the mood, but there was no way it could work.

“Yeah… great.”

The raven's eyes clouded with sadness, but he was still hopeful.

“I've missed you…”

Three glanced back up: god how the hell was he still allowed to make puppy eyes like that- it will always make his stomach flip and heart race…

“Yeah? You've missed the one person that was sent to kill you?”

He said it so bitterly and he didn't know why he even said it why the hell did open his mouth-

But the response he got was as calm as ever.

“Yeah… maybe I'm wrong to feel this way, but I've forgiven you Three. You know that.”

Four’s eyes were watering and god was it contagious to see him like that.

Three inhaled…

“I’ve… I’ve missed you too.”

They shared bittersweet smiles, until Four snapped out of it and said: “Okay, I wanna tell you what we've been up to! Me, Mario and Meggy found a job with the intergalactic police! We are helping 1 and 2 find that bitch that wanted us dead! Isn't that great?!”

Three’s brain short circuited.

He growled in anger.

“Why the fuck are you doing that?! You're gonna get yourself killed!”

Four smiled confidently: “Nuh-huh! I'm a smart guy, remember? My wits are what is keeping me alive eheh!”

He groaned at his dumbassery.

For a scientist, this man was anything but realistic-

But that was what made him fall in love with him, wasn't it.

His never ending need to dream, to be positive if not a little reckless.

He wanted to hold him.

To strangle him and hug him at the same time.

He was so FRUSTRATING-

“You PROMISE ME. Nothing is going to happen to you. Okay?”

“Aw you care about me…” he said, his eyes having that flirtatious glint he had back in the ship.

Goddamnit.

Three let his head fall on the tiny desk.

“Just promise you moron-”

“But of course! Me and the squad make the best trio ever in the police department! With my wits and the siblings' destructive methods, we are bound to catch him!”

Three found that super hard to believe.

It was a miracle Mario didn't blow up the ship back before Wren could.

“After all, gotta make it before you come out of here, no?”

He glanced back up to him, his sure gaze still staring at him.

He was still convinced he was gonna be let out.

Despite KNOWING his crimes.

Despite… despite being sent to kill him…

He was not naive. Sure he was dumb sometimes, but he knew… he knew how the system worked.

Yet he still chose to dream.

He could cry for real right now.

“Yeah… when I get out.”

The scientist smiled softly, his gloved hand coming up the glass.

“And when you do… I wanna feel your hand against mine, okay? Nothing separating us anymore, not even layers of fabric.”

Red eyes glistened.

The cuffed hand itching upwards too, spreading against his own on the other side.

“I can't wait…”

“Time’s up.”

The robotic voice shattered the atmosphere as harsh reality settled in.

Three got yanked back, both bots on each side of him dragging him upwards.

The scientist’s smile strained but he tried to keep it on his face as he called back to him.

“THREE! REMEMBER, I LOVE YOU! NEVER FORGET THAT!”

He saw a glimpse of his messy bearded face glancing back at him before the door closed up, leaving him alone in the room as another security bot gently handled him to be escorted outside of the meeting room.

The walk back to his small reconnaissance ship was a breeze, and automatically he seated in his pilot post and started it up, exiting the prison’s hangar.

Once a few miles away, in the dark cosmos, a drop of water followed by many others descended on his control column and jacket.

Four didn’t even know when he started crying, but he couldn't stop, and despite telling himself to take back control of his emotions so that he wouldn't risk crashing somewhere because he couldn't see, he couldn't stop the hiccuping and tears.

And so he kept letting himself go, not knowing that back in the prison, the one he came to see was doing the same thing, leaning crouched on his side against the wall near his bed, letting out wails of despair and ache without stopping.

[waddiwasu-sonic]

What can I say, I'm a sucker for domesticity, didya guess? Pfft, that's like... BASICALLY 99% OF MY ART Anyway reminder I'm way more active on my twitter! mwuah~

[loremonster]

I'd say the children of people who shouldn't have had kids.

Still, fully agreed.

we are the daughters of parents who should not have had kids

[pinkthick]

Humiliating, isn’t it?

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: “You could pay all your debts with this,” he said, his voice soft, almost enticing. His gaze shifted to you, sharp and calculating. “But it’s not free.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “What do you mean?”

A/N: This is probably wayyy out of his character, but I haven’t watched season 2 yet (I don’t have Netflix 😭) and just saw an edit with him on tiktok and suddenly my obsession with him came back from 2021. So there are no spoilers!!!

Warnings: blowjob (m receiving), cum swallowing

If you’re not 18 DNI BECAUSE I WILL HAUNT YOUR DREAMS🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

The metro station was cold, the flickering overhead lights casting dim shadows on the walls. Your steps echoed faintly as you trudged forward, your head bowed to avoid the stares of passersby. You could feel their judgment, their pity, their disgust. You didn’t blame them—you looked like hell. Blood crusted your upper lip, the remnants of a nosebleed from earlier when some thug decided to teach you a lesson about unpaid debts. Your cheek stung, swelling just beginning to bloom.

You winced as you adjusted the strap of your worn-out bag. Your ribs ached, a dull, persistent throb that reminded you how low you’d sunk. Debt was a beast that refused to loosen its grip. It clung to you, suffocated you, and drove you into situations you’d never imagined.

As you shuffled down the platform, you barely registered the man who bumped into you until you staggered back, your body colliding with the wall. “Sorry—I didn’t watch where I was going,” he said, his tone oddly pleasant.

You blinked up at him, taking in his immaculate gray suit and perfectly combed hair. His smile was disarming, polite but sharp, like the edge of a blade.

“It’s quite alright,” you muttered, instinctively brushing yourself off despite already looking like a wreck. The man didn’t move on, though. Instead, he studied you, his gaze lingering on the dried blood and the faint bruise forming beneath your eye.

“Rough day?” he asked, a trace of amusement in his voice.

You gave a humorless laugh. “Something like that.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, offering it to you. You hesitated before taking it, dabbing at your nose. The fabric was smooth, expensive, and it felt wrong to smear your blood on something so pristine.

“I have a game,” the man said suddenly, his voice lowering as if he were sharing a secret. “Would you like to play?”

The fuck?

You frowned. “A game?”

He nodded, his smile widening. “It’s simple. You could win money—enough to change your life.”

Your skepticism must have been obvious because he chuckled, a soft, almost paternal sound. “It’s harmless, I assure you. You look like someone who could use a bit of good fortune.”

You thought of your debts, the people breathing down your neck, the empty fridge in your apartment. Against your better judgment, you found yourself asking, “What’s the game?”

He gestured to a nearby bench, and you followed him, still wary. From his briefcase, he pulled out a folded board and a stack of rectangular tiles, explaining the rules of ddakji. It sounded simple enough: flip the opponent’s tile using your own. He placed a stack of cash on the bench beside him, its presence tantalizing.

You played your first round and lost. The second and third rounds went the same way. You were terrible at this game.

When you finally admitted you had no money to bet, his expression didn’t change. “Usually, I slap people when they lose,” he said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “But…” He gestured to your bruised face. “It seems someone’s already beaten me to it.”

The absurdity of the statement caught you off guard, and you let out a startled laugh. “That’s generous of you.”

He smirked. “I do have a heart.”

With no stakes involved, you continued playing. You lost repeatedly, the man’s skill far outstripping your own. He never seemed frustrated, though. If anything, he looked amused by your determination. Eventually, your bruises began to throb, and exhaustion seeped into your bones. You tossed the tile onto the bench, letting out a defeated sigh.

“I give up,” you said, slumping back. “I’m not winning this.”

He tilted his head, considering you. “Pity. You were just starting to improve.”

“Sure,” you muttered, wiping your hands on your jeans. “So, what now?”

He placed the briefcase on the bench between you, opening it to reveal neat stacks of bills. Your breath caught in your throat. It was more money than you’d ever seen in your life, more than enough to pay off your debts and start over.

“You could pay all your debts with this,” he said, his voice soft, almost enticing. His gaze shifted to you, sharp and calculating. “But it’s not free.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “What do you mean?”

He closed the briefcase with a decisive snap, leaning in slightly. “I’ll give this to you if you… do something for me.”

Your stomach churned at the way his eyes lingered on you, his meaning crystal clear. Heat flooded your face, a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “What kind of something?” you asked, though you already knew.

His smile didn’t waver. “Let’s not pretend we’re strangers to desperation. You’ve been beaten down by the world, haven’t you? Cast aside, forgotten. This,” he gestured to the briefcase, “could be your ticket out.”

Your fists clenched, your nails digging into your palms. “You think I’m going to sell myself for money?”

He shrugged, unbothered by your indignation. “You’ve already sold your time, your dignity, your safety—haven’t you? What’s the difference?”

The words stung because they weren’t entirely untrue. Still, you shook your head, your pride warring with your desperation. “I’m not doing that.”

He leaned back, crossing his legs with an air of nonchalance. “Your choice, of course. But think about it. How long before your debtors come back? Before the beatings get worse? How long can you keep scraping by?”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You stared at the briefcase, the money practically taunting you. Your mind raced, weighing the humiliation against the potential freedom.

“I… I can’t,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

He studied you for a long moment, his smile fading slightly. Then, to your surprise, he stood, gathering the game pieces and tucking them back into his briefcase. “Well,” he said, straightening his tie, “it was worth a shot.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how easily he let it go. “That’s it?”

He chuckled, the sound low and almost fond. “I’m not a monster. I made an offer; you declined. Simple as that.”

As he turned to leave, something in you stirred—a mix of relief and regret. “Wait,” you called out, your voice trembling.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Yes?”

You hesitated, the weight of your situation crushing down on you. “Why me?” you asked, desperate to understand why this stranger had singled you out.

His smile returned, enigmatic and unsettling. “Because you’re interesting. And because I see potential in you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small card and placing it on the bench. “If you ever change your mind, give me a call.”

Before you could respond, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the card. You stared at it, the black lettering stark against the white background.

For a long time, you sat there, the sound of the metro fading into the background. The man’s words echoed in your mind, intertwining with your fear, your pride, and your unrelenting desperation.

And the card remained in your pocket.

—

You stared at the card for what felt like hours that night. The weight of its potential pressed heavily on your chest. In a world where every door seemed to slam in your face, this was the first one to open—albeit under circumstances you couldn’t fully comprehend.

The next day, after another call from a creditor threatening you with more violence, you finally gave in. Your pride was already battered, and your options had all but evaporated. With shaking hands, you picked up your phone and dialed the number on the card.

A smooth, professional voice answered. “Hello?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “I… I got this card from someone at the metro. I’d like to… take them up on their offer.”

There was a pause, then the faint sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. “Ah, yes. We’ve been expecting your call. An address will be sent to your phone shortly. Be there within the hour.”

The line went dead before you could say anything else. Moments later, a text arrived, and you stared at the address. It wasn’t anywhere familiar to you, but the name of the street was in one of the wealthiest areas of the city. Hesitation gripped you again, but the bruises on your face and the weight of your debts pushed you forward.

The cab dropped you off at the gates of a sprawling villa. The sheer size of it was intimidating—tall wrought iron gates, a long driveway lined with meticulously trimmed hedges, and a house that looked more like a palace than a home. You adjusted your jacket, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place you looked.

Before you could press the buzzer, the gates swung open as if you were expected. You walked up the driveway, each step feeling heavier than the last. When you reached the front door, it opened before you could knock.

A tall man stood there, dressed in a sleek black suit. His expression was blank, professional but cold. “Welcome,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. The foyer was just as luxurious as the exterior—marble floors, chandeliers, and artwork that probably cost more than your entire life’s earnings.

“Next time, a car will pick you up,” the man said, his tone brisk.

“Next time?” you echoed, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Before he could respond, the familiar voice of the salesman cut through the air. “Sorry, he’s—doesn’t matter. Just come on in.” He appeared at the top of a sweeping staircase, his ever-present smile intact. He looked even more polished than before, his posture relaxed.

You hesitated but eventually followed the man into what appeared to be a sitting room. The furniture was sleek and modern, the walls lined with bookshelves and abstract paintings. He gestured for you to sit, but you remained standing, your nerves making it impossible to relax.

“Drink?” he offered, motioning to a decanter of amber liquid on a nearby table.

“No, thank you,” you said quickly, your voice tight.

He tilted his head, his smile softening. “Suit yourself. I see your bruise is healing nicely.”

You instinctively touched your cheek, still tender from the beating. “Can we just… get to the point? What do you want me to do?”

The salesman’s smile widened slightly, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Straight to business. I like that.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze uncomfortably intense. “What I want is very simple. And, let me assure you, the reward will far outweigh the discomfort.”

You shifted uneasily, his words setting off alarm bells in your mind.

His smile took on a sharper edge. “I want you to use that mouth of yours for something other than talking.”

The room seemed to tilt, your stomach dropping like a stone. You stared at him, your mind racing to comprehend what he’d just said. “You’re kidding,” you said, your voice trembling.

“I never kid about business,” he replied smoothly. “You’ve seen the briefcase. You know what’s at stake.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides. “You want me to—”

“To prove how much you want to change your life,” he interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “To show me that you’re willing to do whatever it takes.”

You took a step back, your legs bumping into the edge of a chair. “This… this is humiliating.”

“Is it?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve already been beaten and left with nothing. What’s one more compromise?”

His words were like needles, each one poking at the fragile walls of your pride. He stood, closing the distance between you. “I’m offering you freedom,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “All you have to do is take it.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as sandpaper. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to leave, to walk out of this villa and never look back. But the image of that briefcase, the promise of a life free from fear and debt, rooted you in place.

“I…” Your voice cracked, the weight of the moment crushing you.

The salesman tilted his head, his smile softening ever so slightly. “Think of it this way,” he said. “This is the last time you’ll ever have to beg, to endure, to scrape by. After this, the world opens up to you.”

He stepped back, giving you space but keeping his piercing gaze locked on you. “But it’s your choice,” he added. “It always has been.”

“I—okay,” you murmured, barely audible.

His smile widened, not in mockery but in something resembling satisfaction. “Atta girl.”

The words hung in the air, and you immediately dropped to your knees, ready to get this over with. But his hand shot out, stopping you mid-motion. His touch was firm but not forceful, his fingers curling gently around your forearm.

“Not so fast,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. “Let’s get you a bit comfortable first.”

You looked up at him, confusion etched across your face. “Comfortable?” you echoed.

He patted his lap, a small gesture that carried so much weight. “Don’t you want to loosen up a bit?”

“I—” The protest was on the tip of your tongue, but you stopped yourself. He tilted his head, his sharp gaze pinning you in place.

“Come on,” he coaxed, his voice soft but insistent.

After a long moment of hesitation, you stood and awkwardly settled onto his lap. The action felt unnatural, foreign. You perched on his thighs stiffly, your hands clenched in your lap, your body tense like a coiled spring.

He didn’t seem bothered by your discomfort. Instead, he rested his hands lightly on your waist, his touch careful and deliberate. His thumbs began to trace small, lazy patterns into the fabric of your shirt, the motion strangely soothing despite the situation.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. The words were meant to reassure, but they only made your pulse race faster.

You nodded, unable to bring yourself to speak. The air between you was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle. You tried to focus on the patterns he was drawing, on the steady rhythm of his breathing, anything to distract yourself from the heat radiating off his body—or the unmistakable hardness pressing against you.

You froze, your entire body going rigid. He noticed, of course, but he didn’t comment. Instead, his hands stayed where they were, his thumbs continuing their soothing motions.

“You’re thinking too much,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. His breath ghosted over your temple, warm and inviting. “Just breathe.”

Easier said than done. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. He shifted slightly, and your hands instinctively reached out, grasping his shoulders for balance. The movement brought you closer to him, your faces mere inches apart.

His eyes searched yours, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you every opportunity to pull away. When you didn’t, his lips brushed against yours, tentative and soft.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he were testing the waters. His hands stayed on your waist, their grip light, giving you space to move away if you wanted to.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you sat there, motionless, letting him lead. When he realized you weren’t responding, he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Relax,” he murmured, his tone patient.

Tentatively, you leaned forward, your lips meeting his. The kiss was awkward at first, your movements hesitant and unsure. But he didn’t rush you. He let you take the lead, his hands remaining steady on your waist.

As you grew more comfortable, the kiss deepened, your initial hesitation fading away. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his suit jacket, grounding yourself as you tilted your head, pressing closer.

That’s when he took over.

His hands slid up your back, pulling you flush against him as he angled his head, deepening the kiss. The shift was subtle but deliberate, his lips moving against yours with a confidence that left you breathless. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, a gentle request rather than a demand, and you parted your lips without thinking.

The kiss turned hungry, his movements more assertive but never forceful. His hands roamed cautiously, never straying too far, their warmth seeping through your clothes. Your senses were overwhelmed—the taste of him, the scent of his cologne, the steady strength of his hands.

You didn’t know when it happened, but your tension melted away, replaced by a strange sense of surrender. It wasn’t defeat—it was something else, something you couldn’t quite name. Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers brushing against the collar of his shirt as you leaned into him.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly. His forehead rested against yours, his hands still on your waist, anchoring you in place.

“See?” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Not so bad.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded. The reality of what just happened began to sink in, but before panic could take hold, he shifted again, his hands steadying you as he leaned back slightly.

“Take your time,” he said, his tone soft. “We’re not in a rush.”

You weren’t sure if it was the weight of his gaze, the steady way he held you, or the way his fingers brushed against you as if he knew exactly where your boundaries were but was waiting for you to decide whether they mattered.

He reached up slowly, his movements deliberate, and his hand brushed against your face before moving to your hair. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he pulled the tie from your hair. Your hair tumbled loose over your shoulders, and he twirled the hair tie around his fingers, his smile never faltering.

“You’ve sucked dick before, right?” he asked, his voice smooth, casual.

Your heart stopped, then resumed at a faster pace. You blinked, your cheeks flushing hot. “I—of course I did!” you replied defensively, the words tumbling out before you could think them through.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Of course you did,” he murmured, his voice dropping as his gaze lingered on your face. “How could someone resist a pretty face like yours?”

The compliment sent an unexpected jolt through you, but you weren’t given time to process it. He gently took your hands in his, his touch light but firm, and began guiding them behind your back. You stiffened instinctively, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“Relax,” he said, his tone calm and soothing, as though he were coaxing you out of a tense state. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You hesitated but allowed him to move your arms behind you, his grip steady and unthreatening. The hair tie you hadn’t noticed still in his hand came into view as he looped it around your wrists. The act was careful, the tie snug enough to hold your hands together but not tight enough to hurt.

“There,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he adjusted the knot. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hair for you.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. He reached up, threading his fingers through your hair with the same slow, deliberate care he’d shown with your hands. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you hated how your body seemed to respond to him against your will.

“See?” he said, his voice low and steady. “No reason to be nervous.”

Nervous was an understatement. Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the situation. Everything about him was a contradiction—his words soft but commanding, his actions careful yet deliberate. It left you off balance, unsure of where you stood or what would happen next.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Down on your knees.”

You blinked, hesitating for a moment as the weight of his words sank in. Your body froze, torn between instinct and the promise of what you came here for. You must have looked as dumbfounded as you felt because his lips curved into that same infuriatingly knowing smile.

But then you remembered the briefcase—you couldn’t afford to hesitate, not now. Steeling yourself, you swallowed hard and did as he said, sinking onto the plush carpet beneath you.

He watched you with a calm, calculating expression, his fingers still lightly twirling the tie binding your wrists. When your knees touched the floor, he adjusted his posture, leaning forward slightly.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the words slipping from his lips in a tone that felt both patronizing and oddly reassuring. His hand left you entirely, moving to undo his belt. The sound of the buckle snapping open echoed faintly in the room, and you bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to remain still.

He slid the belt free and dropped it to the side, his gaze never leaving yours. His movements were slow as he unbuttoned his pants and let them pool around his ankles. Then came the boxers, and as he stepped out of them, his confidence radiated like a tangible force.

He looked down at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” he asked, his voice dripping with challenge.

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes despite the heat rising in your cheeks. “I’ve had bigger,” you shot back.

That earned a low chuckle from him, the sound rich and amused. He crouched slightly, bringing his face closer to yours as his hand reached out, cupping your jaw firmly but gently. His thumb brushed along your chin as he tilted your face upward. “Open up,” he said, his tone soft but leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, your thoughts warring with one another. But then your resolve hardened.

You obeyed, parting your lips just enough to feel vulnerable.

The corners of his mouth quirked upward again, and his hand slid to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair with practiced ease. “I’ll let you take the lead,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, “at least for now.”

His other hand rested lightly on your shoulder as he guided you closer, his movements careful.

With a deep breath, you adjusted, leaning in more and licking the tip. He groaned softly, the sound low and guttural. His other hand trailed from your shoulder to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse point in a way that sent a shiver through you. His cock was heavy on your tongue, and your mind blurred as he thrust himself further and further into your mouth—and you appreciated the slowness with which he did it—until he was fully inside. The rhythm was slow at first. Small bobbing of your head that was just enough to pull soft groans of from his lips.

You pulled back slightly and swirled your tongue around the tip, pleasantly surprising him enough to earn yourself a sharp tug at your hair and a guttural moan that sent a shiver down your spine and a sudden awareness of the need between your legs.

“My… it’s like you were made for this…” he tugged gently on your hair again, signaling for you to pause, you pulled back slightly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. His thumb brushed against your cheek, his touch light but grounding.

“Good girl,” he said again, his voice softer now, almost approving. He leaned down slightly, his hand cupping your face as he tilted your chin upward. “Messy, though…” he muttered, wiping a bit of drool escaping your open mouth. His hand moved from your chin to your hair again, smoothing the strands back as he studied your face with that same intense gaze.

“Let’s see how far you can go,” he murmured, his tone calm but laced with challenge.

And he fucking shoved you down on his cock.

You froze for a second, overwhelmed by the situation, but his voice cut through the haze.

“Don’t stop now,” he said, his tone still calm but laced with something sharper, something that made your heart race. “You want the money, don’t you?”

Your jaw tightened involuntarily, and he noticed. His smirk deepened as he adjusted his grip in your hair, guiding you with more force than before. It wasn’t painful, but it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission anymore. He was almost guiding your head at this point, fucking into your warm mouth with soft grunts as the hand with a grip on your hair directed you towards him in perfect timing. Your jaw was starting to ache and you could barely notice it with your thoughts suddenly one-track-minded. You were alternating torturously between sucking and lapping at his dick. He pulled out, and then fucked back in roughly, and oh, he knew this would be good—but not this good.

His hand in your hair tightened, and the calm, collected demeanor he had shown earlier began to crack ever so slightly. His breaths were heavier, his eyes darker, and the faint quirk of his lips had transformed into something far less controlled.

His need was pressing against the edges of his control. Your breath hitched as you tried to keep up, the pace leaving you off balance.

You pulled back instinctively, your body reacting to the overwhelming sensation, but his grip on your hair tightened, keeping you in place. “No,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. “Not yet. Breathe through your nose. Come on—work for it.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine, equal parts thrilling and intimidating. You tried to steady your breathing, inhaling deeply through your nose as he’d instructed. Your jaw relaxed as best as it could, though every muscle in your body felt tense.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice breaking slightly at the edges, the first real crack in his composure. His free hand braced against the back of the couch he was sitting on, his knuckles whitening as he gripped it tightly.

You glanced up at him through your lashes, trying to focus despite your racing pulse. His eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, the intensity in them made your breath catch. He was watching you so closely, as if every movement, every reaction, was feeding something deep within him.

“God,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, his head tilting back slightly as his grip in your hair eased momentarily. “You have no idea how good you look like this. Believe me—you could’ve gotten out of your debts a long time ago.” The sounds are indescribable, dirty and wet and so fucking hot as he continues to thrust into your mouth.

“Your throat,” he chokes out. He splays one hand over your throat and starts to fuck up into you at a different angle. “I can fucking see myself in you, fuck—“ There was a rawness to his movements now, a lack of the careful control that had defined him earlier. “Just a little more” he murmured, his voice roughened by something you couldn’t quite place. You could hear his breathing quicken, could feel the faint tremor in his grip as he pulled you closer still. His dominance over the situation was undeniable, but there was a vulnerability in the way his body reacted, a need that felt almost desperate.

When you hesitated again, instinctively pulling back just a fraction to catch your breath, his hand tightened slightly in your hair, holding you in place. “No,” he said sharply “stay fucking still.”

You wanted to punch his face. But you did your best to keep up—still thinking about the money—your breath hitching as he guided you, his need evident in the way he moved.

His groans grew louder, more frequent, and his grip in your hair tightened again as he edged closer to the brink. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed and his movements became more erratic. He was losing control, and the realization sent a strange thrill through you.

His orgasm washed over him and his body went still for a moment, his grip in your hair almost bruising as he held you in place. The sound he made was low and guttural, a noise that seemed to reverberate through the room. You froze as he held you there, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Your throat burned, your body tensing as you fought the instinct to pull away as his fucking cum filled your mouth. He didn’t let you, his hand in your hair keeping you firmly in place as he muttered something under his breath—words you couldn’t quite make out over the pounding in your ears.

When he finally released you, it was abrupt, his hand loosening in your hair as he leaned back, his chest heaving. You gasped for air, your breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts as you tried to steady yourself and then started to cough. Your body felt heavy, your limbs trembling as you sat back on your heels, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He met your gaze, his expression softening as he took in your disheveled appearance. “You did well,” he said, his voice low and rough. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness. “Better than I expected.” And then he took the hair tie off your hands.

You didn’t respond, still trying to catch your breath as you processed what had just happened. The room felt stifling, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you as you struggled to compose yourself. You just managed to smear his cum on your face.

His smirk returned, though it was softer now. “I knew you had it in you,” he said, his hand trailing down to cup your chin again. His thumb brushed against your jaw, and his smile widened slightly. “But you’ve got to learn to pace yourself.”

You glared at him faintly, though the effect was ruined by the flush in your cheeks and the way your body still trembled. “Maybe you should pace yourself,” you shot back, your voice hoarse.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Fair enough,” he said, his hand falling away from your face as he leaned back, his posture relaxing for the first time since you’d arrived. He looked down at you for a moment longer before reaching for his discarded boxers, slipping them back on with a casual grace.

“Go clean yourself up,” he said, gesturing toward a door off to the side. “The bathroom’s through there.”

You hesitated for a moment, your body still tense, before nodding and pushing yourself to your feet. Your legs felt unsteady beneath you, and you had to grip the edge of a nearby chair to keep your balance. He watched you with an amused expression, his smirk widening as you stumbled toward the bathroom.

When you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. Your reflection in the mirror caught your eye, and you winced at the sight of your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. You looked like a mess, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

As you splashed water on your face, trying to steady your nerves, you were almost on the verge of crying. It’s disgusting—it’s disgusting that you’re wiping his cum off your face and out of your mouth.

When you finally stepped back into the room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression unreadable as he watched you. The briefcase was sitting on the nightstand beside him, and he gestured toward it with a lazy wave of his hand.

“Your reward,” he said simply, his smirk returning. “You’ve earned it.”

You hesitated, your gaze flickering between him and the briefcase. “That’s it?” you asked, your voice still hoarse.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Unless you’re looking for another round,” he said, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward to grab the briefcase. The weight of it felt solid in your hands, a tangible reminder of why you’d agreed to this in the first place. “I’ll pass,” you muttered, turning toward the door.

As you reached for the handle, his voice stopped you. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

You glanced back at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you met his gaze. His smirk was still in place, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker. You didn’t respond, pulling the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

The air outside felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the room you’d just left. You took a deep breath, the weight of the briefcase grounding you as you made your way down the hall and out of the villa.

[seonghwaddict]

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral

hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members

➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive

summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr

summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks

summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk

summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse

summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates

summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story

➺ tempest - by @kooktrash

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga

summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.

➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia

summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess

➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover

summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.

[sturniololuvz]

https://www.tumblr.com/sturniololuvz/775043131391475712/little-sister-sees-chris-drinkingsmoking-underage

smoking ver? 🫣

okayyy!

“Caught in the Act”

Chris sturniolo x sister

Warnings : smoking

Y/N had been searching for Chris for the past fifteen minutes. She had just finished her homework and wanted to show him a funny video she found, but he was nowhere in the house. Matt and Nick were inside playing video games, so she figured Chris had to be outside.

Sure enough, when she stepped onto the back porch, she spotted him leaning against the side of the house, his hoodie pulled up, back turned to her. She was about to call out to him when she noticed something strange—his hand lifted to his lips, and when he exhaled, a thin cloud of smoke drifted into the air.

Her stomach dropped.

“Chris?” she called, her voice hesitant but firm.

Chris jumped, immediately fumbling to hide the cigarette in his hand. He spun around, eyes wide with panic when he saw his little sister standing there, arms crossed, looking both shocked and disappointed.

“Y/N—what are you doing out here?” he asked quickly, his voice unnaturally casual.

“I was looking for you,” she replied, stepping closer. Her nose scrunched at the smell lingering in the air. “Are you smoking?”

Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he was caught. There was no talking his way out of this. “Look, it’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?!” Y/N cut him off, her voice rising. “Chris, that’s disgusting! And it’s bad for you! Do you even know what that does to your lungs?”

Chris groaned. “Oh my God, you sound like Mom.”

“Well, maybe you need to listen to Mom,” she shot back, her 13-year-old attitude in full force. “Why are you even doing this? Since when do you smoke?”

Chris avoided her gaze, shuffling his feet. “I don’t do it all the time… just sometimes, when I’m stressed or whatever.”

Y/N’s expression softened slightly, but she was still upset. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. There are literally a million other ways to deal with stress that don’t involve ruining your lungs.”

Chris sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y/N, please don’t say anything to Nick and Matt, okay?”

Y/N frowned. She hated keeping secrets from her older brothers—especially one like this. But at the same time, she didn’t want to get Chris in trouble.

“I won’t if you stop,” she bargained, her tone serious. “Like, for real. No more of this. It’s not worth it, Chris.”

Chris looked at his little sister, seeing the genuine concern in her eyes. He knew she wasn’t just being dramatic—she actually cared.

After a long pause, he sighed. “Alright… I’ll stop.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Promise?”

Chris chuckled softly and held up his pinky. “Pinky promise.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment before linking her pinky with his. “Good. ‘Cause if I catch you again, I am telling Nick and Matt.”

Chris rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

As they walked back inside, Chris felt a little guilty—but maybe Y/N was right. Maybe this really wasn’t worth it.