#all ya'll need to know is that It Had To Be Done

[takes1]

ur blog is so pretty...

if you are okay with it, do you have any headcanons bout what type or p0rn the Karasuno boys would watch? 🌹

what type of p*rn would the karasuno team watch?

warnings. heavy nsfw under the cut. minors DNI

characters. suga. daichi. asahi. tsukki. kageyama. hinata. nishinoya. tanaka. yamaguchi. details. lots of kink discussion - just about anything you can think of

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. my imagines. requests open.

suga९᠀ - likes a good storyline video. loves a bad one. shitty acting gets him laughing, and he needs every chance he can get to feel as though he isn't sinning. won't say no to an amateur flick, but he likes the structure of 4k videos, and is a suuuucker for the 'oiled up' aesthetic.

asahi९᠀ - buddy has a rampant size kink that doesn't get much of an outlet. downside: most videos that cater to this are not what he wants, because of the unavoidable infantilization in most of them. so he opts for amateur vids with bigger guys turning out their smaller girlfriends, wives; extra props if there's some real, organic dirty talk, or if it happens to be super low-quality.

daichi९᠀ - has no shame about his oral fixation. face fucking. deepthroat. he's got any video with some lucky dude getting good head memorized by the title and the preview. his favorites are either: when the guy stays hands-off and silent, or when she takes a load down her throat. not much in between.

tsukishima ९᠀ - is a filthy animal with a porn addiction. will watch/has watched just about everything under the sun. he had a bukkake faze, a gangbang faze, but is now proudly serving his bdsm faze with specific interest in femdoms. shiny, black heels get him hard in an instant. has done the tried-and-true bdsm questionnaire in his spare time and does heaps of research on the community, usually as a pregame to jerking off.

kageyama ९᠀ - no particular preferences. but if he's got a crush on somebody, he will strictly watch lookalikes. it wasn't a conscious habit at first, but after the third time it happened, he couldn't articulate any other reason to look up seven descriptors in the search bar and get 0 results. how well/quickly he gets off is based on how well the actor or subject looks his crush. it's a long endeavor, too. he edges for as long as he can, and almost always does it twice.

hinata ९᠀ - can't watch porn long enough to build any strong preferences. has sensitivity/premature ejaculation issues, so he tends to just listen to whatever video he landed on. this has opened more of a pipeline to nsfw audios, instead. loves the sound of two bodies coming together, especially all the little pants and huffs in a video that aren't faked. has gotten insanely good at being able to tell if it's fake, too.

nishinoya ९᠀ - doesn't watch videos; similar problem to hinata. instead, yuu buys physical hentai novels. big fan of monster-fucking. tentacle stuff is a staple in his readable porn. he guards his collection with his life and would sooner lose a limb than have anybody go near the shelf that he keeps them hidden behind. once, asahi stood too close during a sleepover and -naturally- yuu bit him as a distraction, just to get him away from the area.

tanaka ९᠀ - wlw videos. solo-girl vids. he can't stand to watch something with a guy in it. it's huge turn-off, especially when the dude is too loud, or in the way, too soft, or straight-up ugly. learned to love the slow, women-catered stuff that's 40 minutes long and has plot to follow. also picked up a lot of tongue tricks from these vids, too. (congrats, kiyoko!)

yamaguchi ९᠀ - mmf threesomes. i think ya'll know what i'm getting at, here. either he 1: is poly and doesn't know it, 2: is gay and doesn't know it, 3: is genuinely very enticed by the idea of overstimulating a gorgeous girl, OR 4: can't see himself as enough for a potential partner, and this might be a subconscious way of evading that insecurity.

notes. i'm very sorry to any who were looking for ennoshita, kinoshita, or narita. i tried, but genuinely couldn't get anything going for any of them. they all seem like nice guys, but there's no material that i can properly make nasty.

taglist. @integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

links. my masterlist. requests open.

[lostinlovingrevery]

just think of Logan fucking u to sleep because you're tossing and turning and its pissing him off a little so he does his best to help you relax in the only way he knows how :)

Lullaby

Trilogy! Logan X F! Reader

Logan needs you to go to hell to sleep

A/N: I know technically this wasn't a request but this drove me WILD last night and I knew I had to do something about it. Also I know beast of burdens was supposed to be my next fic but I promise ya'll will be FED when i'm done with it...

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, Insomnia, unprotected PiV, fingering, kinda sleepy sex, creampie

He scowls at the ceiling

Staring up above, brows creased and lips set in an irritated frown. He felt you shuffle again at his side. The bed gently shook from your movements, your arm bumping his.

He shut his eyes hoping that would be the last of it. Not even a minute passed, and the bed shook from your stirring once more. His eyes shot open and he gritted his teeth.

A flash of light made him turn his head. Your back was turned to him, and he could see you scrolling on your phone.

"Get off your phone." He grumbles, looking back at the ceiling.

You looked over your shoulder, surprised to see him awake. Pressing the screen off, you set it aside and turning on your side to face him. "I didn't realize you were awake."

"Hard not to be...." He mutters, shutting his eyes.

"Sorry. I can't sleep." You say quietly.

"Damn phone isn't going to help. Tossing and turning nonstop isn't going to either."

Silence followed, he opened his eyes again and looked back at you. You looked exhausted, circles under your eyes, frustration painted across your face. He felt guilty for being snappy- it's not like you want to stay up all hours of the night.

"C'mere." He mumbles, stretching his arm out for you to join his side. You shuffled across the mattress, resting your hand across his chest and you tipped your chin up at him while resting your cheek on his shoulder. "What's the matter with ya?"

"I don't know. I'm just restless. I want to sleep but I can't relax." You mumble, pressing your cheek into his arm. Your fingers intertwining into his chest hair, as you began to carefully pluck at individual strands.

"Hm." He grumbles quietly, his hand brushing up and down your arm and he looked up at the ceiling. He wondered what he could do to help you. It's not easy to relax- he knew that better than anybody. If it wasn't the nightmares, it was the tension, the anxiety. Unable to sleep because he was terrified for what was going to happen the next day.

Didn't really learn how to relax till you came around. Felt safe in your arms- a little strange feeling but it was true. He tried to think about what helps him sleep- and what has helped you sleep in the past?

Nightly routines. Both of you finish up work- you're usually last to do so, the workaholic you are. Dinner- with the others, or sometimes you and him opt for something quieter. Usually shower together, he likes it that way, even if nothing sexual comes from it; he intimacy from the act- he's addicted. Once brushing teeth and hair are done, you'll both settle in. Sometimes watch a movie, or talk, or-

Bingo

Tonight had been one of the rare nights you didn't have sex. Not for any particular reason, the both of you worn from the days events so cuddling in bed was the option.

No wonder you were restless.

He felt a little cocky by this thought. A single round with him would knock you out- of course it's never just one round with him.

Within a flash, he had the sheets ripped off, and you rolled onto your back, (his) shirt lifted over your breasts, and his hand down your panties. His lips crashed onto yours, taking your breath away as your startled by his sudden actions.

"Mmlogan!" You mumbled into his lips, but you didn't push him away. No, his hand felt way too good for you to ask him to stop. Warm, comforting, you felt the ache of your restless muscles begin to relax at his touch. Maybe a heads up would be nice- but he was always more of a physical being anyway.

His calloused fingers circled your clit, varying his pacing- slowly, before speeding up. He did it the exact way he knows you like it. Your pleasure always a top priority to him- of course this time, your relaxation was the most important. Stroking his fingers through your folds and gathering your wetness over them. Your thighs spread open for him eagerly- wanting more.

He moved away from your lips, down to your neck, before capturing a tit in his mouth. He licked and sucked at your hardening bud- reveling in the moans that escaped you.

He pushed a single digit into your hole, clenching around him. Your hand climbed into his hair, another burying into the pillow your head was resting on. He worked in and out of you, stretching you open to add another finger, scissoring open inside of you, before curling to hit the spot he has memorized.

Your back arched off the bed, your hand digging into his scalp almost painfully- making him groan as he quickly worked you into a blissful- and tiring release.

Your walls clenched around him, even as he removed his fingers. A small chuckle escaping him as he watched your body relax into the mattress as he sits up.

"Mmm..." You hum contently, your hands coming up to grip your pillow lazily. "That was nice....and I'm tired now so it works...."

"Not done yet." He says, shuffling across the bed- he turned you on your side. He used one hand to support your leg up- exposing your soaked panties. His other hand pulled down his briefs, taking his hard cock in hand as he led himself to your entrance- removing the pesky panties to the side as he pushed his tip against your entrance.

You squirmed, eyes shut tight and holding onto your pillow- preparing for the inevitable fuck Logan was going to bestow onto you.

He pushed himself inside- his fingers hadn't been nearly enough to prepare you for the intrusion, your eyes rolled back anyway as you melted into the bed. The previous jitters your had immediately fading- as your muscles relaxed. As best as they could, anyway.

Once hilted deep inside you, both of his hands gripped your leg and he began thrusting at a pace that had your head lolling about, and you babbled, moaned, and whined.

Logan didn't pay you no mind- he was already tired himself but the tightness of your cunt- they way you squeezed around him, and how you took him so well; as you always do. He got lost in you, hugging your leg to his body, he pounded into you at a inhuman pace.

You hoped the bed frame pounding against the drywall didn't wake anyone up.

Your second orgasm was fast approaching. A winding feeling in your lower belly grew, tightening with each thrust of his cock inside you. You lazily opened your eyes to look up at him- Handsome man in all his glory, fucking you with a haze in his eyes and his mouth hanging open. Grunts and whines escaped him, but when he finally moaned your name is what sent you over the edge.

He plunged deep into you one last time, filling you with ropes of his cum. Turning his head to press kisses to your ankle while moans escaped him. One last rope shot out of him, his body twitching from the finality of his coitus, he pulled out- collapsing at your side with more exhaustion- and relief in his bones- yet half tempted to go at least one more round.

He turned to look at you to suggest the idea - but you were conked out. He smirked to himself, fixing shirt and undies and grabbing the blankets to pull over the both of you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Good night sweetheart."

[melodyofmbaku]

Touch of a Woman (Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie)

Preview: “Annie, laughing at another man’s touch... And just the thought alone made Smoke sick to his stomach."

Warning ⚠️: sorry in advance

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N Wheeewww. I haven't done something like this in a while. Hope you like it. I really appreciate your comments/reblogs, it's what keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think! 😘 My Masterlist __

The invitation came in a stiff white envelope with gold trim and Smoke’s full name printed on the front like he was somebody important.

Elijah Moore.

An old acquaintance from Chicago — one of those slick-talking men who still called him “Big E” — was throwing a formal dinner and ball just outside town.

Society folk. Wine glasses so thin they looked like they’d shatter from a hard look. Smoke hadn’t planned on going. But the man insisted. Said he wanted both of them there.

That’s when the fight started.

It wasn’t loud at first — just a look from Annie when the name was mentioned. A tightness in her mouth when she asked, “So… this friend of yours. He the same one you used to run with your Chicago crowd?”

Smoke didn’t answer right away. And that silence was all she needed.

“I ain’t never hear you mention this man before.”

“Annie, we was boys,” Smoke said, shrugging off his shirt. “Ain’t seen him in years.”

“But clearly ya’ll close enough for you to get an invitation. Funny.”

Smoke exhaled. “What’s funny?”

“That every time I turn around, there’s some part of your past I ain’t never heard about. And now I’m expected to smile pretty and shake hands with folk who think I don’t belong in the same room?”

He turned to her. “Ain’t nobody said that.”

“They don’t gotta say it. It’s in how they look at me.”

Smoke stepped forward, voice low. “You think I’d bring you somewhere you didn’t belong?”

“That’s not the point,” she snapped. “ I know I belong. It’s just exhausting havin’ to prove it.”

Smoke’s jaw worked. “Annie—”

“I seen the way you talk when you’re with them. Straighter posture. Less drawl. Like you gotta prove something.”

He swallowed. “That ain’t fair.”

“No, you a man who had a life before me. And that life’s gonna be there in that ballroom. That’s fine. I can handle it. But don’t expect me to smile while I’m bein’ measured.”

He didn’t have an answer. So he didn’t speak. He just watched her gather herself. The tension swelling in the room.

“We don’t have to go.”

“I’ll go,” she said finally, looking at her shoes. “I’ll play nice. I’ll wear the dress and I’ll eat the food and I’ll do the dance.”

Her voice dropped then — more vulnerable than she meant it to be.

“But don’t you dare act like I’m crazy for feelin’ what I feel.”

And Smoke didn’t respond. Just shut down.

They got dressed in silence. Shared a ride in silence. And now here they were — walking into the ballroom, with smiles that didn’t reach their eyes.

___

The room sparkled in soft golds and low voices, the kind of place where everything smelled like money. Annie looked like she belonged — radiant in a deep plum dress, hair pinned to perfection, chin lifted with that sharp, self-made grace.

But her stomach was tight. The heat hadn’t left her all evening, and the champagne did little to cool it.

The two had parted a bit earlier after doing their rounds. Annie with a few ladies she met near the restroom and Smoke to the man who called out to him obnoxiously across the room “I know that ain’t who I think that is!”

It had been some time and she was looking for her anchor. 

She turned her head — her eyes searching the room — and stopped cold.

There he was. Smoke. Near the far end of the room, framed by marble pillars and candlelight.

And across from him, smiling like memory never faded, stood Delilah.

Green satin. Long lashes. Too-close posture.

Annie couldn’t hear a word, but she didn’t need to. Delilah’s hand touched his coat sleeve, light and deliberate. Smoke didn’t move. Didn’t push her away. Just stood there.

Just fuckin’ stood there.

Annie’s throat went dry. Her grip tightened around the stem of her glass.

From across the room, it looked like something private. Something kept.

She didn’t watch long enough to see what came next. Didn’t give him the chance.

She turned.

Walked away.

And the rest of the night passed like the taste of something bitter — stuck in the back of her throat no matter how many times she swallowed.

__

As they entered the house, Annie set down her purse and slipped off her shoes.

“Well, she was real pretty. Real refined. Bet it brought back memories.”

“I didn’t know she’d be there.” Smoke said.

They’d reserved their argument for when they got home. Wanted to spare the cab driver's ears.

He had 40 minutes in the car to formulate an explanation as to why he was talking to his ex girlfriend at the party and that's what he came up with? He was cooked.

“We ain’t even made up from earlier. You barely said ten words to me. And then here she comes — all soft smiles and shared history. Ya’ll get a quickie in the broom closet too?”

Smoke shot her a look.

“Don’t start. You had an attitude before we even got there. This ain’t got nothing to do with Delilah and you know it.”

“Bet you were happy to see her. Your favourite city girl.” She scoffed. 

Smoke noticed it under all that anger, there was a thread of insecurity. 

He sighed deep. 

“Annie. I can’t help that I had a life — a woman —before you.”

“I’m sorry that people got to experience a different version of me, I can’t do nothing about that.” 

She spun on her heel quickly. Heat in her eyes. 

“I ain't talking about people. I’m talking about her.”

Smoke still stood his ground and refused to fight fire with fire. 

“Ain’t no her. I ain’t seen the woman in 7 years Annie and the fact that we talking about this in our home right now is insane.” 

He started towards her. Fingers flexing lightly. He wanted to hold her. Tell her she hadn’t a thing to worry about. 

She stopped him before he got close with a hand. “You stay right there.”

Smoke nodded to himself, once but kept his distance.  A shift passed over him — the soft gave way to something sharper. His mouth pressed into a line, and when he spoke again, the edge was back.

“No woman can hold a candle to you. You ain’t weak. You got nothing to be jealous about. I’m yours. I’m right here!” he beat his chest.

She looked at him almost shocked. 

“Wow.”She laughed bitterly. “That’s what you think this is? Cheap jealousy?”

She shook her head softly before responding. 

“Elijah I’m not mad because you ran into her, I’m mad because…”

She paused before she said the words that broke Smoke's heart into pieces. 

“You let her touch you like she still had a right to.” Her hands shook as she gripped the vanity behind her. 

“Like you ain’t belong to another. You ain’t see anything wrong with that?” She asked.

Now this? This — Smoke could understand. 

He reached out to her once more and she snatched her hand away from him.  

“She touched you.”

Her voice broke. 

“And you’re mine.”

The room went still.

He swallowed. The hurt in her voice hit him in his chest. It wasn’t just about Delilah — it was about him.

“I want you to put yourself in my shoes Elijah.” She started. 

“Another man, with his hands on me. You’d sleep well after that?” She pointed a finger at him. 

She was getting heated again. 

“That image won’t flash behind your eyes everytime you close them? It won’t sow a seed of uncertainty in you?”

Smoke didn’t answer right away.

But the truth crept in — heavy and hot. The picture she painted etched itself behind his eyes: Annie, laughing at another man’s touch, her hand on his chest, her eyes soft.

And just the thought alone made Smoke sick to his stomach.

She saw it land.

“So yeah, maybe it's me. Maybe I’m weak, but if being strong like you means I let people mess with what's mine and I gotta be cool with it? Then I don’t wanna be like you at all.”

He took a step closer, real slow.

“You think I belong to anybody but you?” he asked, voice rough, worn.

Annie didn’t answer. She just looked away.

He exhaled hard, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You ain’t gotta fight for me,” he said, softer now. “You already won." He sought out her eyes. "Baby, I'm right here."

“She touched you,” she said, voice cracking and eyes watering. “And you let her. You didn’t move. You didn’t even look uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t even notice,” he said honestly. “I swear to you, baby. I didn’t notice. I’m sorry.”

Annie swallowed, her voice low and cutting.

“Right. Just muscle memory then.”

Smoke stood there, fists clenched at his sides. He had been keeping himself at bay. Swallowing his anger. Trying. Apologizing. And she’d have none of it. 

Smoke exhaled sharply and stepped back.

Then, without a word, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped parcel. Set it gently on the table between them.

“Here,” he said. “This is what she gave me.”

Annie blinked, not moving. She looked up at him accusatory manner.

"Whats this?" she snarked.

“Open it.”

With shaky hands, she untied the twine and peeled back the cloth. Inside, nestled in paper, was a small muslin pouch — familiar, fragrant.

Sweet balm.

The note underneath read:

“For your lady. Knew she’d need it. You’re lucky, E. Don’t mess this up. —Langston”

Annie stared at it, blinking slowly. Her lips parted, the words not quite coming.

“That’s what she handed me,” Smoke said, voice flat. “That’s what you saw.”

She didn’t move.

Smoke spoke low. “Langston was supposed to bring it from Chicago. I asked him to get it. For you. He got shot last week. Couldn't travel. Sent it down with her.”

Her fingers hovered over the pouch.

“I didn’t even ask her directly,” he said. “She just handed it off. Told me to give you her best.”

Annie’s breath stuttered. The guilt landed heavy.

And that’s when Smoke’s voice changed — quieter, rawer.

She started towards him but it was his turn to keep her away. He shook his head no and took a step back. 

He nodded, more to himself than her.

Smoke stepped back once more and pointed at her.  “You think I’d let another woman put her hands on me — for no reason?”

Annie’s throat bobbed, her fingers twitching on the twine.

Her eyes stayed on the note even as something sharp — shame or sorrow — pulled at her ribs.

“You said you liked that balm from Miss Halloway’s shop. The one you used to buy before from upstate. You been rationin’ it. Thought it might make you feel good to have it again.”

Her arms fell to her sides.

And Smoke saw it—that flicker of realization. The regret. The dawning ache in her eyes as her gaze landed on the envelope with her name on it.

He waited, watching her crumble. But he didn’t soften.

“You wanna know what I find funny?” His voice stayed level, but there was heat beneath it. 

“You stay making all this noise about the person I used to be. About how filthy my lifestyle was to you. And I ain’t say nothing. I took it.”

“But the man I was in Chicago? That’s the same Smoke I am now. Maybe a little softer. But the same damn man. That life — that work, those people — it shaped me. It gave me the spine to stand up for you now.”

“And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you don’t want that version of me.”

He shook his head slowly. 

“I love this life we built. The domestic shit. I really do. I ain’t never been this happy.”

He looked down before looking her in the eyes. “But that don’t mean I don’t carry everything I used to be in my back pocket.”

“I ain’t never dragged up your past like this. I ain’t never ask you to explain that broken engagement. I ain’t never made you pick apart the pieces of who you used to be. I took you. Whole. Mine.” He beat his chest once more.

Annie’s stare didn’t break, but something in her posture shifted. She didn’t stand so straight anymore. Her arms slowly dropped to her sides. The righteous indignation went right with it.

He looked at her, eyes tired. “I know I gotta be strong. I’m a man. My back ain’t supposed to bend, or break. I get it...”

His voice dropped, thick now. “But this? What you doing right now?” He gestured between them.

“You tearing us apart.”

“I knew I’d have to protect myself from bullets, cuffs, and the mother fuckin’ KKK but I ain't never think I’d have to protect myself from you too.”

Annie’s lips parted — but nothing came out.

“And for what?” he asked, nearly whispering. “A trophy for who the most holy?”

His laugh came bitter, breathless “I don’t wanna play anymore. You got it.”

The room felt too small for the two of them. Too tight to hold all that pain.

Smoke nodded to himself, like he’d said what he came to say. He turned, ready to put distance between them.

“You stay here,” he said softly. Always softly with his Annie. “I got the couch.”

As he walked past, Annie reached out — just two fingers brushing his sleeve.

“Elijah…”

He pulled away gently. Didn’t look at her. Just kept going.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Annie stood alone, the silence pressing in.

She looked down at the sweet balm on the table. The note with her name on it. The care he’d shown — even when she’d doubted him.

Her chest rose, then fell.

The tears came slow. No sound, just heat.

She sat down, elbows on her knees, and stared at her trembling hands.

And in that quiet, she saw it clear:

Her grip on his past was standing in the way of their future.

Annie dropped her head into her hands.

And sobbed. __

A/N Ya’ll know me for the love stories but I’m actually an angst monster. ✨Surprise ✨ 😂 

With all this focus on the trio I thought I’d bring it back to give some attention to the OG lovers. 

I am still working on the fic with Annie soft-domming Smoke. Alot of ya’ll asked to be on the taglist for it. It’s there, I’ve got about 3 variations I’m working through. Will likely post it next weekend.

Your thoughts and encouragement keep me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think 🥰

____

Interested in my future works? Let me know if you'd like me to add you to my tag list. My other works can be found in My Masterlist. Thanks for reading!

___

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[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Here"

Ok yall I'm back with chapter 7!! Hopefully this posts bc it wasn't working yesterday. Sorry if it's confusing, I rewrote it like 5 times! I tried not to use {y/n} but i mightve slipped up! Hope ya'll enjoy!! The plot is finally moving!! Lmk if you have any questions. Likes, reblogs, and asks motivate me! I love when yall send me your ideas and comments and asks! Wish me luck, I'm posting this and then taking my math exam! If you don't like it, don't read, stop sending mean asks and submissions!

Breakfast the next morning was horrible.

The awkward silence lingered, thick with unspoken words and eyes that felt like they were scanning every inch of you. You could feel their weight on your back, like a thousand invisible hands pushing you deeper into your seat, forcing you to stay in this uncomfortable moment.

You could already feel the heat rising in your chest, but you bit your lip, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You weren’t going to lose your cool—not yet.

Damian’s gaze was fixed on you, like he was waiting for some kind of reaction, his lips pressed into a thin line. You knew what he was expecting: compliance. Submission. He expected you to shrink back under his scrutiny. And yet, there was something oddly satisfying about not giving him that satisfaction.

Instead, you focused on the plate in front of you, stabbing your fork into the pancakes with far too much force. You were still hungry, but the food felt like cardboard in your mouth, tasteless and dry, even though Alfred’s cooking was always the best.

Bruce was still watching you, his eyes heavy with a kind of expectant patience, like he was just waiting for you to crack. You could feel the tension in the room like a ticking clock, the seconds stretching longer than you’d ever thought possible.

"Why are you all staring at me?" you finally muttered, breaking the silence, your voice low but biting. You didn't look up from your plate, but you could feel the eyes on you. They all thought they could break you. They thought you were some fragile little thing, someone they could fix with their pity and their "family time." But you weren’t. You’d stopped being that person a long time ago.

Dick was the first to speak, his voice softer than usual, like he was trying to tread lightly around you. “We’re just trying to connect, I know it’s been a long time, and things got… complicated, but we don’t want to lose you again. Not after all this time.”

His words weren’t as comforting as he probably thought they were. In fact, they made your skin crawl. He was trying to be kind, but it felt forced, like he was reading from a script. You didn’t need this. Not from him, not from any of them. You wanted them to stop pretending like they could fix everything with a few hugs, a couple of "we missed you"s.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you said quietly, your voice almost a whisper, but it carried a weight. “I didn’t ask to be here. And I didn’t ask to be part of this family anymore.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened at your words, but he didn’t say anything at first. You could feel the flicker of something in his expression—guilt, maybe. Regret. He was looking at you, like he was trying to see the person you used to be. The person you had been before everything fell apart.

You weren’t that person anymore. And he needed to understand that.

“You don’t get to decide that,” Damian suddenly said, his voice a little too sharp. “You can’t just shut us out like this. You’re still a part of this family. Whether you like it or not.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his. " I can shut you all out, I can do whatever I want” you snapped, the frustration leaking through. “You’ve done it to me for years.”

Dick’s brow furrowed, his lips pulling into a frown. For a second, he looked genuinely taken aback by your words, “You don’t understand,” he said, his tone quieter but still laced with an edge. “We didn’t abandon you. Not on purpose. You think we didn’t care? You just never seemed to need help.”

You could feel the sting of his words, but you pushed it down, locking it away. You weren’t going to break. Not for him. Not for any of them. Of course you never needed help, you were too busy trying to be perfect.

“I was just a kid,” you replied, your voice a little rawer, louder than you intended. “And I was ignored by the people who were supposed to be there for me. So fuck you and fuck your family time too.”

There was a long pause, everyone looked around in shock, not expecting you to be so combatant and then Jason finally spoke up, his tone softer than usual, less teasing. “We’re trying, okay? I'm trying. We’re not perfect, and I’m not asking you to just forget everything. But we want to try. Let us try.”

You shot him a look, your eyes narrowing. “Trying isn’t good enough,” you muttered, your voice tight. “Not when it’s years too late. I don't want scraps of love anymore, not when i've had the real deal.”

Everyone seemed to quiet at the last part of your statement, suspicious of what it meant and from who you received "love" from. What convinced you that you didn't need them anymore?

“Then what do you want?” Tim interjected, his voice suddenly sharper, more direct than before. “What do you want from us? We’re here, and we’re trying to make it right. But you’ve got to meet us halfway.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell them that nothing would ever be good enough, that the damage was already done. But you didn’t. Instead, you just stared at Tim, meeting his eyes with a challenge of your own. You didn’t owe them answers. Not anymore.

“I don’t know,” you said finally, your voice quieter now, almost defeated. “I don’t know what I want.”

It was the truth. You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t know if there was anything they could do to fix things. But one thing was certain: you didn’t want to stay in this mansion, suffocated by their expectations. You didn’t want to play along with their idea of a happy family.

Before anyone could respond, you stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a loud scrape against the floor.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said, turning on your heel. “I’ll figure it out on my own. I always have.”

You heard Duke’s soft voice in the background, calling after you, but you didn’t stop. You just walked out of the dining room, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way toward the staircase.

As you climbed the stairs, you could feel their eyes on your back, the weight of their presence pressing down on you, but you didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if they watched. You didn’t care if they were disappointed. You just wanted to be alone.

That day, you stayed in bed. You ignored every knock on your door, every phone call, every beg and plead to come down and eat. You just wanted to be alone.

You woke up to the quiet hum of the manor, but it was far from peaceful. The silence was suffocating, a constant reminder that there was no escaping them—not now. You tried to pretend the night before hadn’t happened, that their constant attention wasn’t as overwhelming as it was, that you were going back to New York soon. Unfortunately, fantasies don't become realities, especially when reality is chasing them down.

Every one of them was here, waiting. Watching.

Bruce stood near the staircase, his presence larger than life. His eyes lingered on you as if he expected something. You weren’t sure what. Maybe gratitude, maybe obedience. He said nothing, just watched you with that expression of silent insistence.

“Good morning,” he said in that deep, calm voice of his, but there was something off about it. There was a layer of expectation beneath his words, like he was waiting for something from you.

You ignored him, brushing past him without a second glance. You didn’t want to engage, didn’t want to pretend like everything was okay. But it didn’t matter. They were all around you now, slowly closing in.

Tim was the next to corner you. You could feel his calculating eyes on you the moment you stepped into the kitchen. He had a cup of coffee in hand, but his focus was on you. Just you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, the question seemingly casual but the undertone too sharp, too analytical. It wasn’t just a question, it was a probe, a way for him to gauge how much control he had over you.

You rolled your eyes, reaching for the fridge to grab something that could distract you, something that could make the reality of this house feel a little less like a cage. But the moment your hand touched the door, he was there, standing far too close, watching you, almost breathing down your neck.

“You know,” Tim said, his voice low, “we can talk today. If you want. We need to keep your abilities in check, make sure you’re safe, protected. ” His tone lingered on that last word, like he was reminding you that you were under his watch now.

You hated how calmly he said it. It made your skin crawl.

Steph was next, adding onto what Tim said with her stupid signature smile, "He's right y'know. It's dangerous out there. For you especially."

You ignored them both. Payback for their years of negligence.

Tim just stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning your face. “Fine, be like that,” he muttered, before walking away, but you knew he wasn’t done. He never was.

And then there was Dick. His usual cheerful demeanor didn’t falter as he breezed into the room, but it was too cheerful, too bright. He was pushing something, forcing something, like he was trying to manufacture happiness out of thin air, trying to remind you of who you were, who you used to be.

“Hey! How about we do something today?” he said, his voice far too eager. “We could go out and grab coffee, breakfast, anything. I know you’re probably not feeling it, but you need to get out of this house for a bit.”

You wanted tear him apart for thinking you could just “forget” everything and fall back into some comfortable, happy routine. But you didn’t. Instead, you just nodded stiffly, walking past him without acknowledging his words.

“Come on,” he tried again, following you, “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“Just drop it, Dick,” you said, your voice like ice. “I’m not going anywhere. Ya'll made that pretty clear.”

His face faltered for just a moment before he plastered that damn grin back on. But you saw it, the frustration and determination behind his eyes. He wasn’t going to stop. None of them were.

Jason leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with a smirk you couldn’t quite decipher. “Ah, the princess finally comes out her tower,” he teased. “What? Got tired of throwing shit around in there?"

You narrowed your eyes, feeling the heat in your chest rise. Jason always had a way of pissing you off with his words, making everything seem like a joke, but you knew there was something darker underneath. He wanted to get a rise out of you, he craved it. He wanted you to go back to being his annoying little sister with anger issues.

“Shut up, Jason,” you muttered, turning away from him, not caring that you weren’t hiding your anger anymore. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today.”

Jason just laughed, but there was a hint of something softer there, something that felt almost... like concern, buried beneath the sarcasm.

“Stop,” you snapped, but before you could escape, Damian stepped in.

Damian was the most direct, the most unforgiving in his attempts to bond. He stepped into your path without hesitation, his posture rigid and eyes narrowed, as if daring you to push him away.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice low, yet intense. “You think you’re some rebellious teenager trying to escape, but you’re not. You don’t get a choice in this.” His words weren’t harsh, they were final, like he had already decided your fate. And you were staying here, whether you liked it or not.

“You’re wrong,” you spat, your voice venomous. "I don’t need you.”

Damian tilted his head slightly, an unsettling calm settling over him. “You’ll need us eventually. Whether you want to or not. And you'll be grateful we never let you go.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you didn’t let him see it. Not yet. His audacity was insane. To think that you'd be thankful for being trapped in Gotham. Never.

As you tried to walk past him, you collided with Cass, who was standing silently behind you, her eyes filled with that knowing, unspoken concern. She's so creepy. She didn’t say a word but you could feel her presence, like a weight pressing down on you.

Cass placed a hand gently on your arm, her touch barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to make you freeze.

Why are they acting like this? What changed these two weeks?

"You’re safe here," she said quietly, her words cutting through the tension in a way that made your skin crawl. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command.

You pulled away sharply, nearly punching her, your fists clenched at your sides. “I'm not happy.” you said, more to yourself than to her.

But she didn’t respond. Of course she didn’t. Her eyes just followed you, and that was worse than any words.

Barbara was close by, but she didn’t need to be loud. She never did. She had this way of talking in soft tones that made everything sound so reasonable. So loving.

“You don’t have to keep shutting us out,” she said gently. “You can talk to us. We just want to make sure you’re okay. All of us. We care about you.”

You felt the weight of her words crash down on you, suffocating you with their sweetness, with their hidden demands. Care. It was just another word for control, for keeping you locked in their world, locked in their gaze. If they cared, they would let you be happy in New York.

“Just stop,” you whispered, more to yourself than to her. “Just... stop.”

You sat in your room for hours again, ignoring everyone.

Bruce had spent the last few days carefully watching you, keeping his distance just enough to make you think you had some semblance of freedom, but now he was ready to step in, to claim his role as your father.

He had promised himself when you left for France, he would make it right. That he would make up for everything he had missed, for every moment he had abandoned you for the greater good of Gotham. But now, as the silence stretched between you two, he was determined to close that distance.

You had just returned to your room after another breakfast you didn’t want to be part of when you heard the knock.

It was Bruce.

“You’re not busy, are you?” he asked, his voice almost too warm, too hopeful.

You shot him a glance, wondering if he truly thought this would work. After everything that had happened, after all the times he had failed you, he still thought a few “father-daughter” moments could make things better.

"I guess not," you replied flatly, stepping aside to let him in, your mind already racing with how to get through whatever this was going to be.

The moment he entered, Bruce seemed to settle, as though he had a plan in mind, one he was eager to execute.

“Good,” he said, looking around the room, his eyes scanning for something, maybe an opportunity. Then, he turned back to you, hands clasped behind his back. “I thought today, we could spend some time together. Just us. It’s been a while since we’ve done something like this, hasn’t it? School starts soon and you'll get busy, you won't have time for me anymore.”

He was trying to joke around.

School. More like prison. The more he mentioned school, the angrier you got. You'd never done something like this. He did it with all his other kids though, with Tiffany. As you thought of her, all ideas of being nice to Bruce, of trying to bond with your father, flew out the window.

The words felt like a slap, and you couldn’t keep the bite from your tone. “Is that what you think this is? Quality time? You really think we’re just gonna pick up where we left off? Think you can change the past with brunch?”

Bruce’s eyes softened for a moment, his expression cracking, but only slightly. The guilt was there, unmistakable, but it didn’t erase the unspoken expectation behind his words. His voice became more gentle, more insistent.

“I know it’s not easy,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something else—something almost pleading, though he would never admit it. “But I want to make this right. You deserve this. You deserve... me. We can go out, maybe catch a movie, grab lunch, talk, whatever you want. I just want to be with you. Like you always talked about.”

You didn’t respond immediately. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen, as the weight of his words crashed over you. It was nice watching him beg for once. You had always wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted him to be a father, to care for you like he did the others. But that was before you tasted freedom, before you tried love.

Now, the idea of spending time with him felt like a betrayal to everything you had tried to protect: your own independence, your own space, your freedom. You didn’t want to be a part of his perfect little family anymore.

“No.” you muttered, unable to stop the anger from flooding your chest. “You really think that’s going to fix things? You think I just forgot what you did? Because i'm nice sometimes?”

Bruce didn’t flinch at your words, didn’t even show any sign of anger. Instead, he just stepped closer, his presence filling up the room, looming over you like an impenetrable wall. His tone remained patient, almost too controlled, like he was walking on eggshells.

“I know I can’t undo the past,” he said quietly, a trace of regret slipping through. “But I can be here for you now. I won’t make the same mistakes. I promise.”

A cold laugh escaped your lips. “You already have.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, the anger bubbling up inside you, but you pushed it back. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

Bruce’s eyes softened even further, the guilt twisting in his expression, and for a moment, you saw something else there—desperation. As if he was begging you to let him in, to give him just one chance to prove he wasn’t the same person who had abandoned you for years.

“We could just sit and talk,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “No expectations. No agenda. Just us. I’m not trying to fix you or make everything perfect. I just want to spend time with my daughter.”

Something in you snapped at the mention of daughter. The word that had haunted you for years. The word that had felt like a lie every time he used it. You clenched your fists, struggling to keep your composure.

“No,” you said, your voice flat, cutting through the tension like a knife. “You don’t get it. I don’t want this anymore. I don't want you anymore.”

Bruce’s face faltered, just for a moment, before he recovered. But the hurt was there, tucked in the corners of his eyes. “I'm sorry. I hope you know that.”

You shook your head, not wanting to hear it anymore. The damage was done. He couldn’t erase it. No amount of “father-daughter time” was going to make you forget what it had been like when he wasn’t there for you.

“Stop,” you snapped, taking a step back. “Just stop. You don’t get to do this, Bruce. You don’t get to waltz in here and act like everything is fine. Like everything’s fixed. You’ve ruined it. All of it.”

Bruce opened his mouth, but no words came. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle to understand where it had gone wrong.

“I’m just trying to make up for it,” he said quietly, but the sound of it made your stomach churn. The way his voice cracked slightly at the end of the sentence only made it worse.

And you hated yourself for feeling even a little guilty for saying no.

But no. You wouldn’t let him do this. Not again.

“I don’t want your apologies,” you spat, your tone sharp, venomous. “And I don’t want your ‘time.’ You don’t get to play the father now.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked toward the door. You needed to escape. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You were leaving your own room to get away from him.

Bruce’s voice stopped you, and you felt the pull of his desperate plea in the back of your mind. His words clung to you, too heavy, too much. “I'll go, don't leave. This is your room. I just want you to know I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You watched your father walk away, and only after he left did you fall to your bed and cry.

The next days before school were a blur. You spent them locked in your room, alternating between crying on the phone with Ariel, avoiding the family when you went down to sneak food to your room, trying to butter up Bruce and convince him to let you go back to boarding school, and online shopping.

Yet somehow Monday morning you were up at 5:30 getting into the shower.

The thought of returning to Gotham Prep made your stomach churn. How could you go back to a place where you had no true friends? A school where you’d been bullied by half your grade. Where Tim pretended you didn’t exist, Damian and Tiffany ridiculed you in front of everyone, and Duke ignored you like you were invisible. Where you ate lunch in the bathroom, alone and cried in the janitor's closet like a loser.

But you weren't the same girl who walked through those halls last year. No, this year was going to be different. You were different.

Last night, as you scrolled through Tik Tok, a new idea formed in your mind. You’d had enough of being invisible. It was time for a change.

You had a plan.

You found the bleach blonde hair dye in your bathroom, hidden away in the back of a drawer. You didn’t need permission, and you certainly didn’t need anyone to hold your hand.

By the time the dye had set and you’d rinsed it out, you felt like a new person. It was the kind of hair that would make people stop and stare.

You woke at 5:30 and hopped in the shower, you wanted to take your time getting ready. You plugged in your pink dyson and curled your new blonde hair, it would fall into a blow out later in the day, complaining about your family to Ariel and Claire. You spent the next two hours getting ready, perfecting your makeup. You’d learned to contour, learned to do your eyeliner just right, and became a bronzer girl over the summer. You grabbed your favorite Chanel palette and messily applied dark eyeshadow in smoky charcoal, blending seamlessly into the crease of your eyes and eyeliner. You smudged on a bold dark burgundy lipshine that drew attention. You weren’t trying to be anyone but yourself, your new self.

Then came the clothes.

You'd already shortened your Gotham Prep skirt by more than a few inches. It was below your knees and now it showed off the thighs you spent all summer tanning. You wanted to make a statement, and if they didn’t like it, that was their problem. The white blouse, originally oversized, was now form-fitting, you wanted it to give that one Bella Hadid picture. You left the top buttons undone, the tie hanging loosely around your neck in a deliberate, I-don’t-care gesture. You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, reminding you of how much control you were regaining. You looked like the kind of girls you used to call whores last year.

You looked through your drawers for your signature jewelry you collected over the summer and during school. Big gold hoops on your ears, studs in all your other ear piercings, a tiffany heart necklace that rested on your exposed collar bone, and multiple bracelets stacked on each arm, jingling as you moved.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you smiled. You looked good.

Lastly you grabbed your Isabel Marant sneakers, chic and effortless, and slipped them on. They were expensive, but it wasn’t about the price—it was about the look. The vibe. Then, more than few spritzes of perfume. Something sharp, and not too sweet. You wanted to make a lasting impression, to turn heads as you walked.

By the time you were done, you felt invincible. The girl staring back at you was someone who didn’t care what anyone thought. You weren’t going to be bullied anymore. You were going to be the one who dictated the terms.

You walked out of your room, head held high, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Downstairs, the Batfamily was gathered at the breakfast table, doing their usual routine. They all stopped talking the second they saw you.

You’d barely stepped into the room when the heavy silence fell over the table. Bruce looked up, his expression instantly darkening. His lips pressed together in a thin line, his gaze flicking over your appearance.

“Is this what you're wearing?” His voice was tight, a hint of disapproval slipping into the words.

You gave him a look that said everything. “Is something wrong? I thought it was cute.” Your tone was soft, teasing, but with a bite underneath. You weren’t asking for his permission. You were daring him to say something.

Tim, who had been looking at his phone, blinked up at you with wide eyes. He’d been so engrossed in whatever he was reading that he didn’t even seem to know how to respond. His fingers hovered over his screen, unsure whether or not to comment.

“Are you seriously going to school looking like that?” His voice was tight, an edge of surprise and confusion beneath it.

You crossed your arms, leaning back in the doorway. “What? You don’t like it? Your friends might.” You knew how to unsettle him. That much you were sure of. You wanted to push his buttons, make him paranoid.

Dick was the next to react. He put down his coffee, glancing over at Bruce before looking back at you. “I get that you’re, you know, trying something new,” he began carefully, but the unease in his voice was clear. He was trying to be supportive, trying to understand, but it didn’t take much to see how disapproving he felt. “But—”

“But what, Dick?” you interrupted with a sudden change of attitude. “You don’t like it? That’s a shame. It's so crazy I literally never asked.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He simply shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

Jason snorted, clearly not impressed. “You trying to turn heads or get yourself in trouble? Skirt's too short, change that shit.” His voice was low, but it had a sharpness to it now. His gaze scanned you from head to toe, his mouth curving into an almost imperceptible frown.

You weren’t fazed by his dismissive and angry attitude. If anything, it made you want to lean into it more. “I'm not changing, you want alonger skirt? You go put one on and come talk.” You shrugged nonchalantly, your tone saccharine sweet. "And I don't want trouble, but i don't mind it."

“Yeah, I can tell,” Jason drawled, eyeing the large hoops dangling from your ears. “Nice hoops. Real classy.” His lips twitched, mocking the exaggerated size of them. "I didn’t realize big was your thing now."

You smirked, reaching up to tug at one of the hoops, the gesture playful, but intending to piss him off. “Big boys like big things, Jason,” you replied smoothly, without missing a beat. “And you know what they say, the bigger the hoop, the bigger the....” You were quickly cut off before you could finish talking and ruining everyone's apittite.

Damian, ever the hater, set down his cereal with a dramatic flare, slamming it down and glared at you. “You look like you belong in a cheap nightclub, not Gotham Prep. Should we drop you off on the nearest corner?” His words were sharp, cutting—typical Damian, though you could hear the pure anger in his voice.

You chuckled softly, not phased in the slightest. You'd rather be at a cheap nightclub honestly. “I’m just bringing a little fun to Gotham, Damian. You should try it sometime, maybe then you wouldn't be so hateful all the time." Your tone was uninterested, like his insults weren't even worth your time.

Steph and Cass exchanged a look, both clearly unsure of how to react. Cass, as always, seemed more interested in watching you than engaging, while Steph’s gaze flickered between you and the rest of the family. Barbra was just staring at you in disbelief.

“Is it really that bad?” Steph finally asked, though her voice wasn’t quite as gentle as it could have been. There was a nervous edge to it. “I mean, you’re, uh, pulling it off…” She trailed off, clearly unsure how to proceed.

You ignored her, who cares what she thinks? Her and the rest of them are irrelevant. If you like it then so what. Her comment did make your lips twitch into a smile subconsciously though.

Alfred, who’d been quietly observing the exchange, cleared his throat before standing. “Miss, I must say, it’s a rather bold change. But perhaps not one that will be received well by the staff and teachers.” His words were polite, but you could hear the disapproval in the undertones.

You gave him a bright smile, not at all sorry. “I’ll take my chances, Alfred. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I've played this game before.”

Bruce, who had been seething quietly, finally stood up from the table. His usual calm demeanor was replaced with a tense frustration. “Go change. Now.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “Make me.”

There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, then something else, something more. He clenched his fists for a moment, clearly fighting to maintain control. But you weren’t backing down. Not this time.

“I’m not going to let you walk out of here like that,” Bruce snapped.

You didn’t miss a beat. “You won't let me do anything. I go to school like this or I don't go at all. And since when do you care?” You crossed your arms and stuck your foot out, pouting like a child, staring him down waiting for him to surrender.

Bruce hesitated for a moment, his expression softening ever slightly. “Fine. But you’re pushing it. You're not going like this tomorrow.”

Bruce 0, You 1.

Jason, who had been watching the exchange with interest, chuckled. “You really know how to work him, don’t you?”

You flashed a smile at him, leaning back in your chair as you stood up and grabbed your bag, ready to leave the room. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We're already late. Jason, you driving?” Jason was the most fun, and he wasn't as nosy as Dick or Barbra.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m driving us all today. Come on, let’s go before Dad starts pulling rank.”

With a dramatic sigh, Bruce reluctantly agreed, shooting a last, disapproving look at your outfit before turning toward the door.

The engine of Jason’s car hummed steadily, but the air inside was anything but calm. You had decided to make this ride your moment. If you were uncomfy, you'd make them all feel the same. The others in the car—Damian, Tim, and Duke—were bracing themselves for your usual attitude, though this time you could tell there was a noticeable edge to the tension.

Jason, who was driving, was trying his best to keep his eyes on the road, but you knew he was glaring at you through the rearview mirror. Damian was next to you in the backseat, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, like he was ready to throw down at any second. Tim sat on the other side, buried in his homework, something to do with Gotham Prep’s ever-pressing academic requirements. Nerd.

And Duke? Duke was the least bothered, but you were sure he was mentally rolling his eyes at you the moment you stepped into the car.

You were far too busy with your phone, flipping through TikTok videos and checking your DMs, but every so often, you’d glance at the boys just to see their reactions.

“So…” You leaned forward a little, propping your elbow on the middle console. Your voice was light, casual, but you could feel the energy shift around you. You knew this would get under Jason’s skin. “You think any of the boys at Gotham Prep will notice my glow up? ”

You heard a long, heavy sigh from the driver’s seat before Jason muttered, “She's in that phase huh,"

But you weren’t listening. You were too busy smirking at Tim, who barely looked up from his book. You could feel his eyes narrow, probably out of sheer annoyance. “I mean, it’s inevitable, right?” you continued. “I'm 16 now, I'm better looking. Is there any fresh meat since I left? Anyone interesting, new friends maybe??"

Jason was silent for a moment, but you could see the grip on the steering wheel tightening in his peripheral. He wasn’t going to let you get away with this.

"Listen," Jason said, his voice calm but with that sharp edge he always used when he was trying not to lose his temper. "I don’t want to hear about boys, okay? Not today, not ever."

You blinked dramatically, as if you were the one being attacked. “Oh, come on, Jason, don’t be such a buzzkill. I’m not doing anything. I just wanna know if anyone’s looking.” You reached forward and pressed the button to connect your phone to the car’s Bluetooth, your nails clicking loudly across the screen as you searched for the perfect song to add to the atmosphere.

You knew you were getting to him. Jason was always so serious when it came to boys, always so guarded, especially when it came to you. It was fun getting under his skin. He glanced over his shoulder at you, but you were already half-distracted by your phone.

“Relax, Jase,” you shot back, ignoring his glare. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just curious. It’s just—boys.”

You needed something to stop the ache that came with your new powers.

“Don’t make me pull this car over,” Jason threatened, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror again.

You laughed softly, loving how easily you could provoke him. You leaned back in your seat, stretching out your legs, and noticed Damian watching you like he was deciding whether to strangle you with his own scarf.

“Damian, you’re so serious,” you sigh, you'd been ignoring him lately but you forgot how easy he is to provoke. “You know, you should loosen up. Boys are fun to look at, and to—” You cut yourself off before you could finish the sentence, letting the tension simmer.

Damian’s face twisted in that way he did when he was trying to pretend you didn’t bother him. “I don’t care what you do with boys,” he muttered. “But if you think I’m going to sit in this car while you talk about them like you’re some kind of—”

“Oh, no,” you interrupted with a teasing smile, “Not some kind of what? Some kind of what?” You stretched your legs a little further, drawing more attention to the hem of your skirt as you adjusted yourself in your seat. Making it even shorter now that Bruce wasn't here. You felt the eyes of your brothers boring into you, especially Jason's. “Honestly, Damian, lighten up. If you stopped being such a little grumpy loser all the time, you’d get more attention from girls. You have my looks y'know. ”

Tim, who had been pretending to focus on his homework this whole time, finally looked up from his papers with an exasperated sigh. “Can you not?” he asked, voice strained. “We’ve got school in twenty minutes. We don’t need a whole lecture about boys in the car.”

“Hey, no need to be so dramatic, Tim,” you said, turning your attention to your phone. You found your favorite song, the one that was guaranteed to annoy everyone in the car. “I’m just having fun. It’s not like I’m gonna do anything crazy. I just wanna know who’s gonna be there today."

You were making them all uncomfortable, and you loved it. You could already see Damian’s jaw tightening in the rearview mirror and Jason’s knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. Tim was staring at you like you were a whole new level of annoying. Even Duke rolled his eyes.

But that wasn’t enough. You needed them to be seething.

“I’m telling you right now,” Jason warned, his voice dead serious, “no boys today. No messing around. You’re going to class, and you’re staying focused. I'll check your phone if I have to. Got it?”

You put on your best innocent face, looking up from your phone as if you hadn’t just been causing a small riot in the car. “Okay, okay, Jason. No boys. I'm more into men anyway.”

Damian scoffed again, muttering something about how “pathetic” it was. You just grinned and rolled your eyes.

“Hey, you’re just jealous because girls don’t look at you,” you said, winking at him. “Maybe if you weren’t such a pain in the ass, you’d get noticed more.”

Duke, who had been quietly observing the entire conversation, finally spoke up from the backseat, his tone easygoing but with a hint of amusement. “You got any tips for me? Am I chopped liver”

You rolled your eyes at him, still not over his betrayal. “Glad you’re entertained, Duke. I don't think even I could help you.”

As you said that, you grabbed the aux cord and plugged it into your phone without asking.

Jason let out a sharp sigh, but you just grinned. “I’ve got it from here,” you said as you clicked on Drake’s Hotline Bling. The song blasted as you maxed out the volume. Damian looked like he was about to combust.

“You really are a pain in the ass, aren’t you?” Tim muttered under his breath, trying to focus on his schoolwork again.

You grinned. “I like to think of myself as entertaining.”

Duke nodded his head to the beat, tapping on his phone and Jason’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror, but you could see the playfulness in his face. He was trying not to smile, despite himself.

“I’m just saying, no boys today, no skipping, no trouble” Jason reiterated, trying to keep a semblance of control. “And if I hear anything about you messing around, we’re going back home, got it?”

You leaned back in your seat and stretched again. “Sure, sure, no boys. But just so you know, if i get into "trouble" it’s not my fault.”

Jason didn’t respond.

When you finally arrived at Gotham Prep you sighed, grabbed your bag, straightened out your skirt one last time, and nearly ran away from them so you didn't have to walk in with Duke, Damian, and Tim. “See you later, losers,” you said with a grin, pulling your sunglasses on as you walked away from the car.

Gotham Prep didn't know what's coming.

Taglist:

@strwberryglass @lilithquillete @delias-stuff @bellatrixmld @damainwayneisthebestrobin @kittzu @lilyalone @yokesmam @sanjisluvbot @facelessisnthere @dollwhite @superstarbucks

@angelunatic @littledollete @cutelittlesugarfairy @darbystrange @sxftiebee @zealous0mouse @trashlanternfish360 @galaxygirlsblog @euphoria-looney @1simpchunkygirl @a-lurking-fae @analuixxy @naturallyspontaneous @horror-lover-69 @pastel-mouse @ladyrosemone @frankie-moon3 @catley1011 @justannie18 @yandereaficionado @ithoughtthinks @asdfghjklgayblog @shadowyknightbeargoth @peche4et3chocolat @boredselkie @rogueofbullshit @iamabeaner @rosesunderthegarde

[silveeja]

ミ☆ Astro Notes!

some basic astrology notes based on personal experience and opinions

i'm not a professional astrologer, this is just for fun~

let me know if you guys think differently/have different experiences, or if you relate to any of these, i'm curious to know what everyone else thinks! :3

random natal observations;

✩ scorpio risings do have an intense, penetrating gaze, but i noticed it's not just risings but ANY scorpio placement has it. i know someone who's chart is mainly air, but their venus is in scorpio and whewww those intense EYES!! (also the amount of scorpio placements i've seen say they're too shy for eye contact??? ya'll don't know the power that you hold! use it! hehe)

✩ speaking of scorpio placements, i would never want to fight with a scorpio mercury, those people will break you with their words if pushed far enough. their words will cut you deep, they know exactly what to say to hurt someone.

✩ pls stop saying aquarians (especially moons) are emotionless and don't care about anything. they can be like this if they choose to, that's their superpower, they can detach themselves from people and situations and emotions at will, but it doesn't mean they're emotionless or like robots, if anything their emotions run too deep sometimes and it all gets overwhelming, to the point where they need to take a step back. once you're close to an aquarian though, they'll open up, trust.

✩ also once an aquarius is done, they're done. they give many chances and are generous, but once they decide to leave, a switch happens and the warm, friendly person is gone. it's true that they are masters at ghosting and detaching, but if they do so, it's always for a reason.

✩ something i've noticed with leo moons (especially if they have scorpio sun or other scorpio placements) is they tend to be a bit selfish, idk if its subconscious or not. they care a lot about their own feelings, but dismiss other people's feelings and have a 'it's not that deep' attitude when they do something that hurts others. I've noticed this with 3 different scorpio sun/leo moon people.

✩ if astrology isn't real then why do sagittarius placements speak before they think??? lol it's kinda funny seeing their faces when they realise they just said something outrageous.

✩ people with venus in their 5th, please stop flirting with everything that has a pulse are ya'll not tired??? (teach me your rizz ways).

✩ i'm calling ya'll out, but cancer moons, please stop playing the victim in situations you created! just take responsibility and move on, no need to play the blaming, crying game. i believe in you! :)

✩ i've noticed pisces mercury people have sweet, soft voices but they tend to mess up when they talk a lot? like stuttering, forgetting what word they wanted to say, mispronouncing words. i guess it's the neptunian energy messing with mercury? anyone else notice it or just me?

✩ my mom is a scorpio mars and she refused to enter a shop where a lady she had beef with 30 years ago works saying "i don't fuck with her" LMFAO the scorpio placements (especially mars) and the grudge holding stereotype is realllll

✩ someone having juno/venus in their 11th house really likes the idea of friends to lovers type of romance! the types to want their lover also be their best friend. ♡

✩ to those who have mars square pluto, it gets better, i promise. you will heal, and the darkness won't last forever. remember that you hold a lot of power within you!

✩ harsh aspects to the MC, especially with sun/moon/mars, can definitely indicate a delay when it comes to finding a career, holding down a job, deciding what you want to do in life. remember that life isn't a race or a competition, even if it seems this way in this society, do it all at your own pace. it's your life, after all!

random synastry observations;

✩ not really an observation but i find it hilarious how some people are obsessed with the 8th house especially synastry, when it's the house that rules obsession lol the irony.

✩ personally, i've had 8th house synastry quite a lot, and i noticed that i prefer being the planet person, when i'm house i feel the 8th house energy way more to the point where it can become too overwhelming, when i'm the planet i feel it but not as intensely. so in my experience, the house person is the one who's more obsessed/attached/repulsed.

✩ someone's ascendant falling into another's 8th house will make the 8th house person feel intimidated/scared of the ascendant even if there's no reason to be.

✩ a family member's chiron falling in someone's 4th house can indicate deep wounds when it comes to family/childhood, the chiron person either created the wounds or triggers them for the house person. :/

✩ on a lighter note, someone's venus in another's 1st house! how sweet! i noticed it doesn't even have to be conjunct to the ascendant (although it definitely helps if it is), the attraction/appreciation is still definitely there! the venus person loves the 1st house and how they look and present themselves, if romantic, i picture the gif of a cartoon character with heart eyes popping out when they look at the 1st house person!

✩ 12th house synastry really does feel foggy, more so for the planet person, you never actually know what the house truly thinks of you, when you're together it can feel awesome and like such a close bond, but when apart suddenly doubts start to come in, like "do they really like me?" or "are we actually close or am i being delusional and imagining it?" and "what if it's one sided and only i'm feeling this way, and the house doesn't even care?" it can be a real mindfuck fr.

✩ someone's mars falling in another's 3rd house and/or conjunct their mercury can show the two people love talking to each other and have the most engaging and diverse conversations, the types to just stay up all night and talk about 100s of different topics! if badly aspected though it can lead to heated debates and arguments, especially the mars person being more argumentative and aggressive in their approach.

✩ venus conjunct someone's chiron is super nice to have, the venus person soothes the chiron person and helps them heal whatever wounds they are carrying! very supportive and sweet bond.

✩ in friendships/family, moon conjunct mars can feel abrasive for the moon person, the mars person being too aggressive/harsh for the moon even if they don't mean it and it's subconscious, the moon tends to take mars' words and actions to heart.

✩ in romantic relationships though, i personally found it works really well, the bond they have is amazing and the mars person tends to be very protective and loyal when it comes to the moon, it's a fiery aspect so when they fight they fight hard, but when they love, it burns in the best way possible!

✩ 6th house synastry really doesn't get enough attention and a lot of people tend to gloss over it, but it's so cute! it's definitely an acts of service and quality time type of vibe between two people, they just love hanging out with each other even if they're not doing anything in particular, or they love helping each other out with different things. it gives cooking/baking together, having movie marathons with a bunch of snacks and blankets, napping together, going for late night walks/drives just bc, one person is reading and the other is watching tiktoks while enjoying the comfortable silence.

these are some of my basic observations, feel free to agree/disagree with me! i hope ya'll have a nice day! ♡

[valalice]

ꪆৎ restless.

cw. fluff. smut nsfw. fem!reader. established relationship (ya'll are so in love). canon divergence. porn with a little bit of plot. sub!ellie. fingering & tit play/sucking (e!receiving). slight body worship. ellie is called pretty girl :3

ellie’s body twists and turns. she’s been at it since the moment the two of you decided to settle for the night, migrating from the couch downstairs to the bed upstairs. on any other night upon resting her head on the plushness of her pillow, ellie would’ve been knocked out; that was the magic of your guys’ bed worked, but evidently its magic had run out this night.

with a flop onto her side, a sigh huffs from ellie’s parted lips, her tongue darting out to swipe along her chapped lips as the alarm clock settled on her nightstand reads 3:44 a.m.

it’s as if your conscious could sense her frustration when your warm body flushes against her back, settling against ellie you lift a leg over her hip. “can’t sleep?”

guilt immediately pings within ellie’s chest at the hoarseness of your voice; she had woken you up with her restless stirring, she knows she has because she’s done it countless times before. and regardless of each time it happens, whether the nights are eerily repetitive because she’s had the same nightmare again or she’s scrambling in the bed, jerking to pull open the drawer to her nightstand to pull out the tattered sketchbook and pen, scratching whatever image had just flashed through her adventurous mind; you're always there to sooth her, and she feels guilt.

“it’s nothin’.” she blatantly lies, she knows you can tell because she's never been the best liar, her voice wavers towards the end of her sentences when she does. a dead giveaway that even she doesn't believe her words.

your arm comes to rest in the divit of ellie’s hip, taking the hem of her shirt in between your fingers, feeling the soft fabric before you plunge your hand beneath the material to lay flat against her stomach. enacting a shiver that subsides as you use gentle force to pull her further into you, wishing to morph into one.

“i thought we got past lying?” your voice laced with teasing a manner you hope she catches. nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the soft linen and the remnants of her woodsy soap lingering on her skin, it's a smell you know as home.

a shiver travels down her spine once more as you exhale. “we did.” she knows she's not giving you much to work with. and she knows that response was a bit snappy, but she's working on it. she's been working on it, old ways die hard, is what she's learned.

“so, talk to me, els. i’m no mind reader.”

she puffs air, returning back to her stirring ways, but this time to twist in your grasp to face you, your limbs becoming further entangled. “i’m jus’ frustrated is all.”

in any other moment you would've flicked your girlfriend’s forehead. you could tell something had her worked up without needing to see her face, but now that you have, her freckled face remains solemn and her eyes sunken from the lack of sleep. “with?” you egg her on, itching closer to decoding the puzzle that is ellie’s inability to outwardly express herself in moments like these.

ellie's eyes shift to anywhere but your face. focusing on the twinkle of moonlight that cascaded in while the night winds whistle a sing into the bedroom from the cracked window. this should calm the beating in her ears from the thumping of her heart, but as long as your touch persist on her, she knows she'll never fully be calm; it'll just ignite the low flames in the pit of her stomach to full blazing hot fire. "ellie." the sound of your voice grounds her, but her gaze still fights yours.

you hand springs from beneath her shirt, raising it to rest against her cheek, your palm warm from the heat radiating off her body. "look at me, baby." coercing her head so that she's finally looking you in the eyes, your gaze soft, and voice even softer, she hangs onto that word—baby. she cracks.

"i need you." it's nearly inaudible, her words breathy and quick, but you're lucky you caught it. unknowingly your eyebrows had been furrowed, they're released to raise instead, and you can't help the smile that's broken onto your face; it all makes sense now.

"that's all you needed to say." unlike ellie's, your voice was loud, and now honeyed from the hoarseness, but still had an air of lightness, to remind her that it's okay—okay to speak what you want, what you need. pulling her closer to place a sweet peck on her lips, pulling away before ellie gets too ambitious. retracting all limbs from her you pull yourself up to rest against the headboard, getting comfortable for the ride. it's a sight to behold when you turn back to ellie, still laid under the covers, propped up on an elbow as she watches you, chest heaving shallow breaths as she awaits with wide eyes for the next words to fall from your lips. outstretching a hand, "c'mon." kicking off the covers hastily, your hands stretch to rest on ellie's waist as you guide her body to be slotted between your legs, hovering her on your thigh.

her hands reach to cup at your jaw, and you pull her in by the grasp on her waist into a heated kiss, deciding now that you'd settle her down on her thigh, causing ellie to moan into the kiss.

you don't mind giving her what she wants right now, it's the least you could do, really. you'd somehow figure out how to become an engineer to build a spaceship for her, then you'd both become astronauts and explore space like how'd she'd always dreamed—it was a distant dream, but you'd make it reality, and when she's filled with content from the space exploration you'd also create some sick invention to take the moon and shrink it, so that back on earth, in her study she'd have the real (not a replica) of the moon she could examine at anytime of the day. and maybe that would destroy earth in the process, but you'd be too distracted from ellie experiencing happiness to really care.

maybe you're just lovesick as you sallow up ellie's moans, getting high off of pleasure, and that she seeks her pleasure in you; either way you wouldn't have it any other way.

snaking a hand around her front, you fingers leaving light strokes at her clothed clit. ellie pulls away with a gasp, letting her forehead rest against yours, peerkng down between your bodies to watch you, her mouth still agaped.

she still humps at your thigh desperately, the skin below the fabric becoming damp from her arousal seeping through her loose boxers. "'s wet f'me. wanna cum like this? or wanna cum on my fingers?"

your question fogs her brain further. when she flickers her eyes up to yours, you spot that you can barely see the forest-y green of her eyes from how blown out her pupils are, her gaze hazy beneath yours. she just moans when your press your fingers feathery light touch becomes harder. "moanin' isn't an answer." you tease, chuckling when ellie's eyes roll back and her head rolls off from your forehead to fall to rest on your shoulder.

"fingers." she mutters. and you hum, you would've liked a please to follow suit, but you'll let it slide, this time. a throaty whine erupts from ellie when her fingers disconnect from her needy clit, using the once busy hand to push at her hip, wanting her to push herself up from off your shoulder. and when she does you fingers find their way back to the soft cotton of her sleeping shirt, eyeing it as you toy with the hem, biting your bottom lip. looking up through your lashes to eyes eager gaze. "i want this off, first. want to see you." upon your request, ellie is swiftly hooking her fingers under the hem of the shirt to yank it over her head.

the hasty action causes her hair to stick out, it's cute, and you catch yourself chuckling to yourself as you bring your hands up to smooth over her hair. allowing your hands to follow the natural rhythm of her body, hands grazing down her face, down her jaw and neck, nimble fingers ghosting over collarbones, and following the perk of her tits. index fingers smoothing over her pebbled nipples before your hands all together rest below her tits and gently grope at them. "'s pretty." you admire.

flicking your gaze up to the woman seated in your lap, your chest can't help but puff up with love for her. and twisted enough, with pride that you're the one to turn her into a flushed mess, and that it's all only for your eyes. "d'you know how pretty you are?"

"you tell me all the time." she huffs. narrowing your eyes when ellie rolls, so you pinch her nipple, not acknowledging the small jump from her. you don't know whether she rolled her eyes from the fact that you tell her the compliment frequently (guilty as charged) or that she doesn't doesn't fully believe your words when you say it.

"and i mean it." your tone hard. leaning down to press a kiss to her sternum, ghosting you lips over her tits. "so fuckin' pretty." you mumble, not to her, but to yourself. ellie's hands fling to brace herself on your shoulders when you wrap your mouth around her perky nipple. your unoccupied hand sliding down her torso, hooking a finger into the band of her boxers, and thoughts of snapping the band against her skin flashes through your mind, but you just plunge your hands inside her boxers. fingers finding her clit once more, giving it a few needing strokes before dipping your fingers past her dripping folds. you push her straight away when you sink two fingers into her pulsing sopping heat, but she takes it as low moans escape her mouth.

despite your hand being stuffed within her boxers the lewd squelching of her cunt isn't muffled. letting up off her tit with a pop, you rest your chin against her sternum, peering up at ellie's fucked out expression, her eyes scrunched shut, and sobs of pleasure working you up further. you want this for her, you want her to reach her glorious peak more than anything at this moment. "takin' my fingers s'well, baby." you praise. and you show some love to her neglected, achy clit when your thumb begins to work steady circles on the bud.

"please—" she cries, hips bucking up into your hand while you work her on your fingers.

"are you close?" you know the answer to your question. her cunt is clenching around your fingers, and her sweet arousal dribbles down your wrist. but you just want to hear the neediness, the desperation in her voice.

ellie sobs further, her body jerking slightly, the grip she has on your shoulders tightening, sinking her nails into the clothed muscles to stabilize herself. "needa cum," her voice waivers, eyes snapping open when she feels your warm tongue swirling around your nipple. "please."

you think you could cum just from the sight alone of ellie above you, eyes drooping, lips swollen from kisses and tugs, rosy hue to her freckled cheeks. "cum f'me, you deserve it. deserve it so bad, ellie."

her climax crashes over like ocean waves against the heights of a cliff. her body shuttering, slumping into your arms, her cheek falling against your shoulder once more as your work her through her orgasm, mustering up enough energy to place light kisses on your neck. "there you go. did so good, jus' needed to get fucked to get yourself tired enough?"

[asmolfolk]

Twisted wonderland with a Grandparent!Reader

ਈ��࣪﹑Just a quick heads-up! There will be ALL characters separated and all of them together (Ace and Deuce are the only ones who have separated and an 'Adeuce' one.)﹗ִ❀ ᘏ It's mostly comfort but there are some angst from their backgrounds... Also, I'm sorry if it's too short! :´(((﹗ִ❀

ᘏ Alsooo! Tyy so much for the likes and for the comments! I'm so happy that ya'll like it!! ❀

First things, just want to clear up some TWS.

Mentions of toxic relationships with parents [Riddle]

PTSD and Trauma [Riddle and Trey]

Jealousy over others and bad thoughts because of it [Riddle]

Insecurity [Riddle and Cater.]

Depression [Cater]

Prologue┆Savanaclaw┆Octavinelle┆Scarabia┆Pomefiore┆Ignihyde┆Diasomnia┆NRC STAFF┆Special Characters.

Heartslabyul 

The friendship between you and the Heartslabyul wasn’t just Ace and Deuce, it ran deeper. They – Adeuce - started seeing you alone most of the times as Epel had to follow Vil’s strict schedule and had tons of things to be done too.   The first thing that Adeuce thought to do? Invite the Grand-uh Prefect to the unbirthday party. They came all giggling while helping you and Grim out of the Ramshackle, talking about something they wanted to do with you – you were just happy to be around them. 

When they brought you to the unbirthday, it was mostly quiet. Trey was the first one to interact with you – impressively. He was quite surprised to see you but made no remarks, only asked if you had any allergy or something of the sorts to make sure there was things you could easily eat. 

Trey was such a sweetheart with you too, he was careful and made sure to link his arm with yours. 

“It’s like this, not... Whatever you two were doing.” He said with a sweet smile – at least in your vision it was. Deuce seemed a bit nervous while Ace was looking around as if nothing happened. 

“Now, if you let me, how about I show you some stuff beforehand?” He made sure to talk to you about the most important rules or, at least, the rules that were easy to break if you are in a unbirthday party. 

Right after him, the one who you spoke with was Cater. However, you two didn’t talk that much. He was mostly focused on making sure everything was okay and trying to subvert any bad situation – while taking pics of course. #Grandyforlife. 

The one and only who made things more... Strange for you were Riddle. You could see him staring you, every movement you made and every talk you had with others. 

“Come now, you can for sure eat a bit more, can’t you?” 

“Oh please, do not hold on the sweets!” 

“Come on, big mouth!” 

You were always helping the others, making them feel at ease to eat more. He was quiet, too quiet even when you indulged a bit too much on Adeuce eating a bit more. You were a sweet person, a literal parent that tries to make the other actually live and not survive... 

Something he never had. 

He could only look at you babying others. He didn’t let himself fall, not with you... Because he knew that if he let himself have a taste of what it’s like having a nice grandparent, then he would never be able to live again. 

It was only in his Overblot that everything spilled out. You could see how much everyone there, not only Riddle, had suffered in silence. Had been betrayed by life or by other adults... You feel responsible to help them. 

Riddle Rosehearts.

General.

You will know more about your relationship in a direct manner.

Nicknames for you: Grandparent or whatever preferred shorten version you want [Nanny, Danny, Granny, Grandy, Grandpa, Grandma] He doesn’t know how to properly give nicknames. 

Riddle isn’t the kind to simply let elders do handwork, he sees it as unproper. Know that you will NEVER lift a finger when he is around – when he and Epel work together, you simply don’t even breath without help. 

He is always worrying too much, sometimes you will need to make him know that you are not ‘fragile’. 

He has a REALLY bad temper but you know how to calm him down, you two are working together on his temper. 

He opens up to up for every single thing on his life. He always tries to not get too defensive when you speak about his family – he KNOW his parents were abusive, however, a part of him still clings to them. 

He, and lots of others, fault a lot his mother – when you brought that his father also does have fault, he was quiet for a long while. ‘Enabling bad behavior is as bad as doing it, didn’t you say that?’ You would quote him and the world – suddenly – has another light. 

He is your second adopted grandkid there... Well, at least that has a document to prove it.

Also, if you didn’t think he would go that far – he is currently trying to make you stay at heartslabyul. If you want that or not... It’s up to you. He will accept your take no matter what.

Lore.

You will know more about your relationship with the said character in a lore-like way. Knowing why they are so close to you, how did you change him.

At first, you two didn’t talk much. It wasn’t for any bad reason – not at all – Riddle was simply too ‘into his own world’, trying to keep the peace while uhm – escaping from Floyd. It’s not like he hates you on sight, he actually thinks you would be the best fit to take care of... Ace and Deuce’s acts.   However, things changed... And it changes A LOT once he overblots. 

It was like seeing for the first time. He just watched as you would indulge into letting the others eat freely, it made him sick. Not because he didn’t agree with that – but because he never had that. He never had anyone sneaking out food for him [well, just once but Trey got caught.] 

The thing about Riddle is that he isn’t actually mean. He is just... Hurt. He still is dealing with emotions and the sudden ‘freedom’, he knows that he isn’t the best for others – too strict – but he, now, is trying to be less strict in some way.   That’s when you came along. Riddle would actually enjoy your company, not only do you ease the tension of the past-overblot but you defend him; 

Riddle is a bit of an old man in young shoes so it makes sense that you are so... Twinning in this one. 

One thing about him, though. Is how he apologized to you, sending some letters and a tart only for you. He didn’t know either or not you wanted to see his face, he was a bit scared – so he never did ‘properly’ apologize [if you consider face-to-face apologies as the only proper way.] 

Once, you decided to approach Riddle after a while. He was reading something on the library, he was quicky to greet you. 

“Prefect... How greet seeing you...” The shocks of his overblot still hits him, not only did he try to fight... maybe kill students, he almost had hurt or killed you. That’s bad enough, he should NEVER had done that. “I hope that you had found my letters of apologies, right...? Deuce told me that you really liked the tart.” 

“Yes, young one. I have. Though, it’s a bit disappointing to see that you won’t talk with his old fellow right here.” You would say as you sat next to him. “You shouldn’t feel responsible for everything.” 

“...I- I had done so much wrong. It- It didn’t feel right talking to you like it never had happened.” He would say, avoiding to look directly at you. 

“But you wouldn’t. My dear, do you think that I hold any grunges against you? Oh, no. I do understand the point, where you came from... Everything. You were hurt, in more times than just one, it’s not ‘unusual’ for someone like you to... Overblot.” Hearing your reassurers only made him feel even more... sad. “It’s not your fault, Riddle. And it’s not too late for you to change your ways... You mother doesn’t define you.” 

It was only after this talk that he actually opens up and is more talkative with you. He didn’t know how much he needed to hear that – not from his friends, but from an elder person. It didn’t take too long before he started being closer to you. 

Always making sure to safe some sweets for you and being overly kind, even. For a while, you thought it was just him trying to properly apologize in his own way... But again? It didn’t take too long to see what was actually happening. 

It was easy to connect the dots: He was treating you as if you were his real grandparent. The overly sweet comments, always trying to make sure you are alright – never too cold, never too hot... He also seemed a bit pouty every time Epel came to steal you from the unbirthday parties. 

So, what does one do?... Welp. 

It was noon. He was drinking his 4 p.m tea when you suddenly appeared with a very proud and giggling Cater right behind you. He was astonished, looking everywhere on the room and trying to think what was happening... Maybe it was time to say goodbye? Did you already think he was a burden or- 

“Riddle.” You called; in the softest tone you could muster. “I’m here for more than just talking, but please – Do not overthink. It’s nothing bad, alright?” As you got closer to him, letting a paper on his desk. “Well, it’s not a legal document as I have no identity on this world... But I thought it would be nice to have one of those.” 

Papers of adoption. It was OBVIOUSLY made for funsies, it didn’t even have a proper signature of a legal place – it was just Cater’s... AND CROWLEY??? Well. Even with the legal implications, Riddle couldn’t help but just stare at it.   He felt... Seen. No, not just that... Loved. 

He had never been seen as a child, never was saw as someone other than a trophy and – for someone – to CHOOSE him as a child, made something inside him broke. He got his pen, managed to sign in too much proper and just smiled. “I- I’m... Thankful I-” He stumbled over his words, not even being able to keep eye contact. 

What you did next? Oh, what every grandparent does with their grandkids. A hug. You hugged him so close, making sure not to ruin his perfect attire – however your effort was lost as he simply nuzzled himself in, as if it was a Koala hugging a tree. This hug was... Something. He was almost squeezing you but you didn’t care, you could see how much he needed that. And you were happy. “My grandson, you shouldn’t worry about anything now.” 

Yes, he is your second - ‘legal’ - adopted Grandson. Congratulations!! The rest of the heartslabyul were so happy! You already brought so much light to his world; it was only understandable that you would make him even less strict – at least for one week... or one day, his happiness would make him ignore some stuff, right? 

No. 

 BUT fortunately for the students, you were around more often, so... At least they will get headpats? 

Out of everyone on Heartslabyul, Riddle is the one who most sticks out for me in this hc. Not only he - of course - NEEDS an adult to be around for him. I feel like he would need it even more. Everyone knows the problems that he has: Stress, Anger issues, PARENTS [not only his Mother!! His father IS an enabler, which can be considered equal bad :(], strictness, insecurities and friendship. I think that him and Cater are the ones who will mostly beneficiante of having YOU.

Trey Clover.

General

You will know more about your relationship in a direct manner.

Nicknames for you: Grandparent or whatever preferred shorten version you want [Nanny, Danny, Granny, Grandy, Grandpa, Grandma] 

Trey likes letting you bake and/or cook something from time to time, he often asks about recipes while trading his own with yours. He often loves to compare – in a playful way – about the pastries. He never gets offended and will stop if you feel offended by it in any way. 

 Most importantly, Trey doesn’t ‘baby’ you. Different from Riddle, he knows that you will need assistance here and there but it wouldn’t be every day and... Every single act that you do. He is mostly the one who makes sure that Riddle knows that – most of the time – you won’t need help and that when you do, you will tell. 

Trey is also one with the difficulty of opening up to orders. He is too mature, however, has a bigger problem that many close their eyes to: He bottles up everything. Every fear, every little thing that puts him in discomfort, he doesn’t speak up. 

Trey is your first successfully adopted grandkid. Yes, I am not lying, he is simply such a sweetheart that it didn’t take too long for your grandparent instincts to come. 

He says he doesn't mind you staying at Ramshackle. [He is plotting to make Crowley not being able to refuse to transfer you to Heartslabyul.]

Lore.

You will know more about your relationship with the said character in a lore-like way. Knowing why they are so close to you, how did you change him.

Trey was the one who always did help the two troublemakers to bake some goods for you. He knew since the beginning that you were around and he deeply did care, after all, he was teached to not only respect the elders but to help as much as he can. This made him being the second third years that interacted with you. [Other than Cater, of course.] 

Comparing him to others, you didn’t think he needed much help – he had all figured it all, didn’t he? Every plan, every moment, anything that was happening around him was thought through. It was only after a fight that you saw the problem lingering in. 

He was too... Parentified. He was sweet, yes, but his ‘perfect’ actions now take a different turn in your eyes. His fears turned more ‘noticeable’ to you... So, you stood there. 

One thing about him is that he would never ask for emotional help – he knows he has problems like everyone else, but that is it. For him, there’s no reason as to why people would care about those ‘little problems’. 

After all, Riddle has it bad. Ace and Deuce need your attention so they don’t do stupid things and, well, Cater is Cater [That man is a question mark] but he knows “they needed it better than him”... Right? 

He couldn’t breathe. It was there, lingering on his skin, brain, eyes, on everywhere... He could feel it. The same feeling as that exact day. That gutfeeling, that disgusting turning feeling on his stomach – the feeling of being screamed at, the feeling of being in the wrong... When he just wanted to help. 

He just wanted to help. 

Somehow, it wasn’t what Riddle wanted. His explosion was ‘justified’ but him screaming at Trey like that? It wasn’t... But he said nothing and just took in to avoid conflict. Always. 

Avoiding it even if it hurted him more. 

Avoiding it and trying to forget the words. 

Avoiding it and trying to just pass through one more day. 

And you found him in the kitchen. Not the usual well-kept Trey, no, this was a way more... Quieter, he wasn’t cooking, just seemed... Sad. He wasn’t crying, but it was clear that it didn’t mean anything.   Him, not crying just shows how things are more... Different with him. Should be played with way more care and cautious, I would say. 

And that’s what you do. You came in, softly tapping the door. 

“Are you busy, Trey?” You asked, not missing how he simply shakes his head. He already knew you were there. “Oh... Dear, what happened? You seem so down...” 

It took a while, Trey seemed to be fighting his own internal monsters. He looked to his hands and then just sighed. “I guess the pressure got to me. It’s nothing to care much, I promise, Prefect. I’ll be okay in no time.” 

“Well... Life is like that, right? However... As your friend, dearest, I can’t ignore your lone suffering. To me, it’s something to care for.” You said, reassuring him and softly tapping his shoulder. “Look... I know how things can be difficult, especially when you are in the spotlight. You got it all figured it out, don’t you? How to calm yourself, how to deal with your emotions... But is it all healthy when you don’t tell others how exactly do you feel?” 

“I already do it, prefect... It’s-” He sighed “It’s just I wanted to avoid it. Sometimes the fight gets worse and I couldn’t do it, not there or with Riddle... Look, I understand your worry. But, truthfully, you don’t need to worry that much about me... I can do it, I just need to breath and stay calm.” 

“If you keep everything that makes you like this under the covers, do you think they would change? I know people are different... That’s why, Riddle would listen. He may be... Well, a strict one, but he is your friend.” You smiled “Go talk to him afterwards... Or when you are ready for it, but please do talk. Those things are important to be said... Even if they cause more conflict.” 

He knew you had some points. But he hated it – he still had some ptsd from that day and it was difficult keeping it under the facade. He decided to, after a while, really talk to Riddle.   It helped. But he knows it wouldn’t help that time... But that’s ‘life’ isn’t it? 

He stayed closer to you after that day, not only because he – of course – knows how to care for you a bit better. He is simply trying to avoid anything bad happening in your way. 

You noticed what he was doing more times than he could say. So, you did what every grandparent would do. 

“Grandson, can you pass the salt?” He almost spilled his tea all over himself while looking at you with those wide eyes. And then, not even a second later, his eyes softened and he just passed it. “Thank you so much. Oh, dear, I love this little-” 

He heard your rants about your country’s foods. He made a small note to try to search for it in his own and make it for you, to ask you your favs and try to make it so it remembers you of your home. 

He – just like you – just accepted this new role. As grandparent-grandchild. He didn’t mind it, truly, even though he already has his family, his heart is big enough to fit an entire country. 

You two, of course, also noticed a very jealous looking Ace, a supportive Deuce and a very confused yet amused Cater. However, you do hear Ace saying something like ‘It should’ve been me...’ 

He is your first [not documented] grandson. Not only that, he simply matches you. He sneaks out some goodies for you, keep mental checks of your health and makes sure you are always well. He simply fits on the role that much. 

He is simply the perfect grandson, isn’t him? 

Every time that it’s almost night and you see him always sending you a message, you think that. Every time that it’s morning and he sends you a message, you think that. Every time that it’s close to the hour that you need to take any medicine and he sends you a message, you think that. 

Trey simply does his best, even when not present. He is always there, reminding you to take care of yourself, to let yourself heal and be loved. 

Trey is a someone that many doesn't gaze, of course there are some that look up or even like him in a deeper level... However, do they understand what he passes through? Just like others, most of his inner turmoil is left aside to deal with 'bigger problems' in his mind. Of course, he still is very upfront about his feelings - he is direct. That's why it's so easy to think about scenarios with him. He is always ready, always prepared, always taking care of everything... That must be exausting. You are his reminder that he is also valid.

Cater Diamonds.

General.

You will know more about your relationship in a direct manner.

Nicknames for you: Grandparent, 'Gray' or whatever preferred shorten version you want [Nanny, Danny, Granny, Grandy, Grandpa, Grandma]

Unfortunately, you weren't that close with him. He was a sweet person, wasn't him? Always there but never going too much on you. He always seemed a bit forced, but you thought that it was just part of the 'Influencer gig'.

He was always… There. Looking, lurking, you almost thought that you did something wrong, his eyes lingered too much on others and then on you. You failed to realize that he was actually longing for something, longing to be loved by you like the others did too.

Because of the long – and hurtful – distance, he always took the first steps between you two. However, as time went on, it became easier for you to understand him, to see the real him – even if, sometimes, he didn’t want anyone to notice the real him.

Lore.

You will know more about your relationship with the said character in a lore-like way. Knowing why they are so close to you, how did you change him.

Cater has troubles... Some big ones coming in. First of all, he can’t see a way to really bound with you over socials so he just tries to minimize his use of slangs to avoid explaining around you. 

He was surprised that you weren’t offput by his use of slangs or his love for social medias. He thought you would be a bit more like Trein than Lilia in that aspect, but you weren’t that upset or seemed to judge him that much. 

Going straight to the point. He saw how you dealt with everyone. How you always were there, taking care, making sure everyone is alright – even the first years, gods, even the staff. He couldn’t help but feel a bit left out... But, that’s alright! Cay-Cay is good and feelin’ alright! 

He wishes he was. 

Putting a mask is something many can do, easily or not. He saw Vil doing, Crowley – in every parent meeting – does it and, gods, every influencer does it... Why is it different when it’s him?! Why do you suddenly want to know about him?! 

Why now? 

Why now?! 

He wishes he hadn’t let the mask slip. It was just a fast comment, just a passing by thought but you caught it. 

“Are they really my friends?” 

He didn’t even though he said it out loud, you seemed to know what he thought or said though... So, did he? Why did JUST you notice it? Is he that forgettable to others too? 

He couldn’t let you inside the walls he created, couldn’t let you BE the one to hold his hand and say that everything is okay. He couldn’t. He couldn’t be a burden to someone, he couldn’t make someone’s life as miserable as his own... 

 But you were there. After following him, were just rubbing his back as you watched him crying. He was trying to understand what you were saying, but his head was turning. He knew you were trying to help him, that you were there for him... But your words didn’t reach his ears. He liked the sound of your voice, though, he just let your voice guide his thoughts and let himself drive off. 

It was only when he woke up and you were bringing him some food that he managed to let out a breath. “I’m sorry- I'm so so sorry, I- Did I make you sleep here? I’m-” 

“Cater... Please. You don’t need to apologize, never... You did nothing wrong, trust me... Oh, dear, to have you thinking that you need to apologize over something like this...” You regretted not noticing the obvious signs now. “I am the one who should apologize, I didn’t notice it... I’m sorry.” 

There was a silence while he ate. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offered, looking at him. “Because, I’m not going until we talk...”

 You stayed with him until he needed to go to classes. It was such a heartfelt conversation... He couldn’t help but take your words. He always saw himself as ‘a fleeting’, never as someone that would make a good remark on people. 

He, in every sense, hated the idea of being there. Exposed and vulnerable, he hated the fact that you knew him more now... But he loved it too. He needed it, someone that not only understood him but supported him more than just ‘Oh, you like that social media thingy, right?’ 

He wanted to be loved, more than just a passing romance, more than just a friendship that would last only a year... He needed something durable, something that wouldn’t be left behind. 

Your teaching, your words, not ANY of those would be. 

So, he did what was right. 

He just let the papers on your desk while you were reading something. You immediately stopped reading, let the bookmark on the page and took the papers. “Now, now... What is...” You weren’t believing what you just saw... Did he really print an adoption paper? “Oh...” 

“...I do hope I’m not too forward with that idea- I mean, I don’t even know if I’m fit to be adopted like that- I'm sorry-” 

You cutted him short with a big hug and so many pampering pets and words. “Oh, dear! I’ve been thinking about this for months! It makes my heart so warm that you reached out first... Oh, I’ll sign this right again, grandson! I’ll make sure that everyone knows... Let’s take a picture for that magicam!” 

He is your first legal grandson! He started printing more adoption papers to give to others, some refused and others were eager to sign. It was so fun, he felt even closer to you, being the one to help you find the others and everything. 

Being Cay-Cay was fun but being ‘Grandson’ was way cooler. 

Cater, out of everyone here, is the most difficult to tell. He doesn't do friendships that he thinks would last forever, he knows they wouldn't. He would have to move out, lose contact and if they ever meet again it wouldn't be the same. He is a person who experienced that cycle over and over. I personally don't think he would be very entusiastic about an elder Yuu at first. He probably only truly started to care after some weeks? Or he always did care, but more into the 'Oh, wait an old person' and less into 'let's help him bcuz we fwens!'

Deuce Spade and Ace Trapolla.

General.

You will know more about your relationship in a direct manner.

Nicknames for you: Grandparent, Cool granps or whatever preferred shorten version you want [Nanny, Danny, Granny, Grandy, Grandpa, Grandma]

The duo was ALWAYS making messes... And you were the one to actually try to keep them down. You slowly became responsible for them, being the one people would often call to talk about whatever had happened with them, you slowly became more than just ‘their friend’. 

People would often tell you about the things they did, if they were too distracted in class or whatever more. Most of the times, even Riddle would call you to try to get someone to talk senses into the boys. 

However, they did change a bit. Less reckless, less immature, they actually started to help you more – Deuce already did that however with Ace’s help it was easier. Ace was actually more into helping you as time went on. 

If Ace was already everywhere even before settling into the ‘Grandson’ role, he simply seemed to have a ‘6 sense’, always showing up when you needed him. 

As for Deuce, it was way more about trying to help you like he wished he had helped his mother. However, he sometimes needs to balance his own life up and ends up needing your help- But, he always makes up to you. 

Deuce was always the most responsible one out of them two, but, when paired with Ace – his working braincell seemed to take a break. Even then, he is a sweet one, always helping, always trying his best. Even if he ends up messing up a bit, you know that his heart is truth.  As for Ace, he was always an enigmatic one. Not because of any ‘unknown’ reason, it’s simply because he seemed to always forget that you are old. Like, he would pass through some comments like: ”You run like you are old- oh wait” or something of the sorts. He started to slowly notice what you could do and what you couldn’t, he is still a messy one, but he always tries to not make anything to actually get you angry... Or too angry with him. 

Lore.

You will know more about your relationship with the said characters in a lore-like way. Knowing why they are so close to you, how did you change them.

We both know they never let you out of sight for so long… Well, or out of your ears. You would constantly hear people complaining to you about something they had done, as if you were their actual grandparent.

Also, let me get this through: Ace was a bit of an asshole at first but Deuce was always sweet. You could hear them always arguing about something Deuce had done or Ace had done. As time went on and not only their friendship but your friendship with them had developed. Things changed A LOT.

Now, Epel needs to actually throw hands to be able to be the one sleeping on your room. Actually, all the First Years now have troubles trying to keep up. Because, in the end, doesn’t matter your age or whatever, you will always be their best friend.

Because of that, play a bit into your favorites and see their eyes shining. [But never let them know that EVERYONE is your favorite, let them have a bit of pride.]

“I TOLD YA, I’M THEIR FAVORITE!” Deuce was almost going in Delinquent mode as he grabbed Ace by the collar. “THE NIGHTGOWN YOU WEAR? GUESS WHO WASHED IT?!” 

“Aw naw dude, did you seriously wash those things? Ew...” 

“What- What do you mean ‘ew’?!” Deuce let Ace go “...Do you not wash those things? Ace, what the-” 

“Naw, I do. I was just messin’. I don’t need to say anythin’, I know I’m their favorite. After all, they always send heart emojis when talking to me... Oh, and good morning gifs.” He said proudly. 

“They send ME good evening gifs.” 

“WELL, they sent me a message ONE minute ago!” 

“They sent me one too!” 

The message read: “If you two don’t stop arguing, I’ll not give a piece of my pie.” 

To be honest, you don’t need to change or do much to actually see the difference your presence brings to them. They feel more motivated; they are actually really cute and sweet every time you are around.   Even in the basket games, Ace would always smile directly at you. While Deuce would always talk with Jack to do less heavy and longs runs whenever you are because he knows you like to participate with them. 

With everything said and done, Ace and Deuce were not happy that they weren’t the first ones you adopted. I would say they were offended. 

It was close to 8 pm when you heard a soft knock on your together with some strange sounds. When you opened the door, there both of them stand. They were looking at you as if you had jumpscared them. 

“Well, well, well... Look who is there! Goin’ to sleep and wouldn’t even tell us about the whole thing...” said Ace, crossing his arms – imitating how you used to stand every time you were scolding him. 

“Sorry for coming in such late hour” While Deuce apologized, Ace rolled his eyes. “But- We know that you like... Adopted Cater and Riddle.” 

“Oh... It’s not an actual adoption, it’s just a print paper... Haha... Did you guys got jealous?” You asked, not missing how Deuce just looked to the ground and Ace just shrugged. 

“And what if?” 

“Then, I guess you two should come in and sign the papers. I was going to make you all sign them after meeting Riddle, but I couldn’t find you.” 

You couldn't miss how their eyes shined and the fact that Ace had to turn his head around for a bit. You let them sign the pap

They never felt so dumb but you know, it was worth it. They started coming more and more around. You could see how incredible happy they would always get every time you talked to them. Their smiles were enough to make you feel like coming to this world was worth it. 

They were always telling the others First years how they are your first grandsons or something like that. 

You can only smile while seeing how they are absolutely loving their grandson role. 

Let's be honest, it doesn't matter who you are - the first years would always stick to you and absolutely be your friends. They would ALWAYS be there, helping and making sure you are okay... They are simply the cutest things, aren't them? Out of everyone, they are - absolutely - the ones you would miss the most.

Tags.

@minkyungseokie , @frootloopscos , @ravenswife , @evilscientistwithbadintentions , @hogwarts9.

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 14

....hey.... how ya'll doin...

Jokes aside, I had a hard time writing this part. I had it halfway done but every single time I went to pick it back up it was like my body rejected it. That being said, I scrapped a lot of it and started over and I got it done much quicker. That's probably some sort of life lesson or something. But I'm so happy to finally get this part out to you. It's a lot! I’d really appreciate feedback and what you want to see from them!

Check out our Patreon for early access to The Favor 15 now and 300+ exclusive writings and series

WC- 7.4k

Warnings- (please read) D/S dynamic, exhibitionism, oral, mention of anxiety, mention of past sexual accidents/injury, examples of rope play, Soft!Dom Harry, mention of subspace, safe wording, panic attack

He wanted to go to a play party. 

Y/N had been a bit shocked that he’d want to go to one of those considering he’d been vocal about not particularly wanting to share her, but he explained it to her in a way that made much more sense- just like he always did. Harry always had a plan and she really needed to give in and trust him. 

They didn’t have to touch anyone else, or have to be touched at all. They would be there simply to watch- or sit to the side and do things themselves. A private party for the club that one of the friends she’d met last time, booked out the bigger rooms and had a strict list of criteria. Only her most trusted people would be there, meaning Harry would feel more safe to let loose. 

There would be a similar bracelet system to what she was familiar with. Black to say you were off limits and/or with a partner, pink to say you were open to anyone,  green if you were okay with anyone approaching you to play, purple if you were a couple looking for someone else to play with, and a few others that didn’t really concern them. Black was the color they’d choose. 

Considering how much she’d liked the last time, watching that other woman, she was… Intrigued.

When he’d told her after that lunch, she had been slightly shocked, but considering how intently Harry had been watching her, getting to know her tastes and limits further… it made sense. Y/N wanted to try new things, experiment, be exposed to different things even if she didn’t fully understand it quite yet. Going to a sex party, for a lack of better words, would be one of those things she knew she got to see and experience. And if she didn’t like it? They wouldn’t have to go again. Her Dom, her boyfriend, would be more than happy to do it all on their own. 

“Y’sure you’re alright with going, baby?” Harry sat on the bed with her, trying to choose from the outfits she’d brought with her. “You seem a little nervous.” The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel obligated to do something she wasn’t okay with. Even with the trust they had built, he knew there was a fine line in what would build or break that trust further. 

Their relationship so far had been incredibly rewarding. Harry’s iron grip on it, trying to keep it protected and cultivating it to a way that they’d both enjoy, was something he knew he needed to somewhat relax with. Their dynamic was something that didn’t just go away. It ebbed and flowed depending on their moods, their needs. Y/N needed a guiding hand, she’d asked for it, and he trusted himself enough to know how to guide her when they were on their own- but the club, ironically enough, was more of a loose cannon. He didn’t have every little detail meticulously planned in the ability to do so. He could only control himself… and Y/N, because she was gracious enough to trust him to do so. 

Harry knew he was a good Dom, but he wanted to be the best for her. As much as he knew it was simply a part of figuring out what her likes and dislikes were, that protective part of him didn’t like the idea of her being exposed to things he already knew she wouldn’t be into- but he had to let her. That had been the basis of them meeting. Y/N wanted to see.

The woman he now called His, she had a thirst for knowledge he hadn’t seen in anyone before. Curiosity licked at her skin like flames, making her search anything, any question that came to her mind. 3 in the morning and she’d lightly rouse him awake to ask him about the differences in floggers that he had in his kit, or she’d pause a conversation to look up a word he’d used that she didn’t know the meaning of. It was incredibly endearing, but it also meant he had needed to practice a different sense of patience with her.

“I mean, of course I’m nervous! But it isn’t.. bad. You know?” She tilted her head. “It’s like, I want to do it and see it. It seems so interesting to me. I liked what we saw last time and the idea of people just… doing stuff is something I want to see if I like. Just a little nervous I’m gonna stand out and look as anxious as I feel. It’s a nasty cycle.” Shrugging her shoulder, she held the babydoll up against her body with a calculating gaze in the mirror. It would be suitable. With her hair in soft curls down her shoulders, makeup dewy and soft, it seemed like it matches. The powder blue with lace up top and sparkly layered mesh at the bottom, she had a feeling it would be the best option. As much as she had thought she’d lean into a darker look, this was more true to her.

 “But I’m excited too. Because I want people to see how lucky I am.” Turning back towards him with a sly smile, she tossed the hanger on the bed and stepped between his spread legs. “No one else is going to be able to say that the most handsome man in the club is theirs. Their Dom or their man.” Biting her lip, she slipped her hands through his hair to tilt his head back. It was silky through her fingers, pushing the freshly washed waves out of his face as she felt the hot palms of his hands lock on to her hips. Just like she liked it. “I feel like a bit of a show off but, I don’t know. It sort of plays into what I like. I didn’t expect it but… I think I may be a bit of a possessive lover.” 

That was an understatement. She was by far the most jealous and possessive submissive he’d had, he’d said as much, but she couldn’t help it. People looked at him whenever they went anywhere. And like, sure, she could understand. Pretty man, Greek god looking, warm skin, sharp eyes, tall, broad shoulders, ultra polite, charming in a way that was missed in a lot of me, tattoos- god, the fucking tattoos-he had it all. But he was hers, and she would prove it to anyone at any moment if needed. 

  An exaggerated laugh came from the man, grabbing at her thighs and pulling her to straddle over his lap. “Well, I never woulda guessed.” He said sarcastically. “Sweet little Puppy’s got sharp teeth.” Squeezing her cheeks together with his fingers to make her lips pucker, he watched her hit him with an eyebrow raise. “M’just as bad and you know that. I just like to be a bit of a show off too. It’s a mixed bag. You’ve got t’feel it out.” His grip on her face pulled her in to kiss him briefly. “Makes me happy that people get to admire you, but I’m the only one that gets to touch, feel, taste… all of it. They can watch.” 

Harry didn’t have a problem with people getting to see her, but it only reassured him that his sentiment on not sharing her was going to remain the same. The few times he’d tried it before Y/N, it didn’t go the way he wanted and he had told her as much. However, their visit to the club when he made her cum all over his lap? That had most definitely been more his speed. The mix of exhibitionism and voyeurism had been precisely what they needed. 

“You just need t’be honest with not only me, but yourself. Yeah, M’your Dom, but I’m your boyfriend as well. If you don’t like the things you see, if you need to keep experimenting and finding things to do with just us or an even smaller crowd… I’m more than okay with that.” He’d been around the block a few times and he’d tasted a lot of flavors of the community. It wasn’t like he’d be missing out on himself. Even if he hadn’t, Y/N was exactly what he wanted. She didn’t know the depths of that fully as he couldn’t even properly verbalize how she made him feel, but one day he hoped to find the words. “The thing I want most is you, sweetheart. Want you to feel good. Feel happy and safe. It’s my job t’keep you feeling like that, and I take it seriously. I’m not going to be offended at anything you decide.” 

Y/N knew how lucky she was. She’s read the forums about the fake dominants, the ones who had tried to pass as experienced members of the community because they spanked someone or called them ‘babygirl’. The horror stories about people being sucked into truly abusive dynamics had not been lost on her when she thought about how safe she felt with Harry. How understood he had always made her feel. Since day one she had felt the thrumming under her skin to give into him and trust, but he had told her it was the same for him. That he’d wanted to take care of her, to make her smile. To give her what she wants. To spank her ass raw when she rolled her eyes at him. The truly romantic stuff. 

“I know. I feel completely safe with you.” She whispered lightly, pressing her lips to his own. It was a good thing she had always saved her lips for last because that lesson had been learned rather quickly. If Harry wanted a kiss, she was giving it to him- lip gloss be damned. “You’ve given me everything I’ve wanted. I'm excited to go with you and play.” Sitting herself fully on his lap, she leaned into him and rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “Want to make you proud.”

“You always make me proud.” And hard. Just the way her eyes had fluttered at him, it had gotten the telltale twitch in his trousers. “Always. You’re so good for me, all the time. M’proud of you for trying new things even when they’re intimidating. Proud of you for telling me how you feel.” Giving her chin a squeeze, his lips lingered over hers. “My best girl.” 

Y/N could feel that fuzzy feeling run over her body in a wave at the way he spoke. It was all subtle, the shift in his tone, but she felt him leaning slightly into his more dominant side. Just in the way he said the last few words, she sunk into him with a grin, nodding rapidly. “Yeah. That’s all I want to be, Sir.”

“Thatta’ girl.” Squeezing her cheeks, he placed a kiss to the exaggerated pout before giving her bum a pat with his other hand. “Finish getting ready. We need t’be out of the house in 30 minutes.”

———

Y/N hadn’t been as shocked as she had been the first time she had gone into the club. Feeling more prepared this time, she had hung onto Harry’s arm as he slipped his own masquerade mask over his eyes to lead them in. His was a simple dark blue, silky and soft with some sort of embossed pattern in it. Florals. She couldn’t place what type, but she’s google it later. She would have done it then, but their phones had been locked up in the front.

Her own was lace. White lace with blue ties, matching her little outfit perfectly. Harry had placed his seal of approval as she finished getting ready, leaving a mark right on her throat- next to the gift he had given her. 

It was new. Something that had her shaking slightly when he had put it on, because it was exactly what she wanted. A white gold choker with a simple heart pendant dangling at the center of her throat. Engraved in it were two letters. 

HS. 

Her hand had went to the cool metal before meetings his eyes in the mirror, his arms wrapped firmly around her body as he leaned into her. “S’not the leather one Y’want right now, but it’ll do for the outfit. Yeah?”

Yeah. It did. She felt owned, in the best possible way. He had given her the other necklace, but this one had felt more substantial. Thicker chain, bigger pendant, more akin to the collar she craved. She had a sneaking and hopeful suspicion that he was getting her a collar for play, but she would be patient. There weren't any doubts on who she belonged to.

Walking through the party, she had been distracted by it. In some ways, it felt like a different dimension of time. Seeing the girl strung from the ceiling in an abundance of ropes and knots, a man crawling after his dominant on a leash, the plethora of latex and leather, and yet it had felt… slightly more tame than she had expected. She wasn’t exactly sure what the true idea she had in her head was, but it wasn’t as casual as people made it out to be here. It was dimly lit, but enough that she had a clear view of everything going on. Seeing the dynamics was just as interesting as it was when she had gone to the club last, especially seeing a woman sitting on the laps of two men- on one thigh each- with their hands all over her. She’d need to ask Harry some questions later. 

“Hello! Welcome.” A chirping voice had her turning her head. A waitress in a barely there maid outfit stood in front of them with a tray of mocktails. She was beautiful, but Y/N was distracted by the woman hanging from the ceiling in the web of ropes. How did someone learn to do that? Did it hurt? “Would either of you like a drink?” 

Y/N didn’t have any desire to have anything of the sort. She wanted to get closer to the woman in the ropes, and wanted to see what she had done. How it had been done. Shaking her head, Harry took that as her answer. 

“I’ll take one, thank you.” He said coolly, taking one from the tray, giving her a nod before walking forward. The further they got, the slower he walked. The submissive was quiet by his side, her head on a swivel as she observed the place around them. He couldn’t fully read the look on her face with the mask on and that felt like a disadvantage especially with his incessant need to be in control all the time. He wanted to know why and how her mind was spinning. Pausing in step, gently he pulled her to the side and took hold of her face, angling it towards him with an expectant look on his face. “You haven’t been talkative. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I’m okay, Sir.” She said honestly. “I’m still nervous, but it’s not as… extreme as I expected.” To be fair, Y/N wasn’t sure what she had fully expected. Maybe to be whipped as soon as she walked in? Harry had laid out how things worked to her but she still hadn’t been sure what she would do when she walked inside. She wasn’t quite sure why her nerves were so bad when she’d been to the club before.

“It is the beginning of the party, but people do let loose.” He admitted, hand cuffing the back of her neck as he released her face but still kept hold on her. The black bracelet that shifted on his arm was nothing fancy, a simple black rubber band- similar to the ones that she remembered back in school being said to mean how ‘far’ you’d gone. It felt ironic, poetic really, to have it brought back in this sort of setting. Who knew that years later she would be here, with new meanings assigned to the different bracelets with a man leading her around with an easy, slightly stoic look on his face and his claim around her neck? 

She’d hoped, actually, but now it was reality.

“If you start to feel uncomfortable, we can leave at any time.” His voice was low and steady, calming the fluttering of her heart as he gave a reassuring squeeze to her neck. “I’m here for you and you alone, pet. S’just us.” Pulling her closer to him, he kissed between her brows before pulling back to look at her eyes. “You want to take a closer look at the rope work? Or do you want to take a seat?” Of course he had noticed where her eyes had been straying to the most. Being observant was one of his most blessed and cursed qualities.

“Wanna look at the rope work, please Sir.” She felt her eyes round out as she gave him a pleading look. Yes, she didn’t have to beg with her eyes, but it felt right. Seemingly, it was the correct thing to do based on the little smirk that lifted on the corners of his lips. 

“Your manners have been spectacular tonight. I’m proud of you.” Her cheeks burned as he stroked his large hand over her hair. Being praised so early on had her preening, the simper on her face the entire way as she was guided over to the stage set up. Something so simple, being complimented on her manners were enough to make her feel like the cat that got the cream. Maybe she should be a little embarrassed by it but she wasn’t. Not at all. 

The smile faded into a different expression as Harry set her in front of him, giving her an unobstructed view.

It was beautiful. 

Y/N had always been curious about it, but intimidated. Harry had restrained her before, he’d easily wrapped her wrists and bound her ankles, but there was an art to it in this light. In all honesty it was an artform, seeing the way the ropes were seemingly laid delicately across the woman’s skin, the slightly confusing knots (how did they look so neat?), the masterful way she was being weaved into a human made web of rope. All of it had her paying more attention than her usual mind could focus on. 

So much so that she jumped when she heard Harry’s voice right next to her ear. “S’that something you want to try one day, Pet?” 

The low timber of his voice so close to her ear had her shivering- or maybe it was the idea of her switching places with the woman on the platform. Did she want that? The answer was yes. Was she also a little bit nervous about doing it? Also yes. “I think so, Sir.” She answered, feeling his arms wind around her stomach and pull her back into his chest. It still amazed her how such simple touches could manage to calm her overactive brain down and bring her back down to earth. 

He still kept it quiet as he murmured near her ear. “I will admit that I don’t have the most experience with Shibari. I think… Perhaps we should take a class, the two of us. They offer ‘em.” Harry was always about safety over everything. It didn’t matter his personal wants, if he didn’t know how to do it safely? He wouldn’t. As much as he loved marks and bruises and reminders of their play, that was the furthest he would go. He only wanted reminders that would fade. Nothing that would be permanent, and nothing that would hurt for more than a little while. 

Using rope could be far more dangerous than some could realize, and the risk of burn was something he was very aware of. There had been a time he had been bound by the wrists with regular rope when he’d been subbing in his early days with an amatuer dominant who didn’t know any better and got the most painful rope burn he had ever experienced. He hadn’t realized it at the time with his endorphins high, but as soon as it had worn off his wrists had throbbed and had significant bleeding. Even worse, they’d gotten infected- in the middle of summer, mind you, and it wasn’t easy to explain why he wore long sleeves and why he was okay sweating through them. 

With Y/N especially, he felt the need to baby her just a tad. She was precious cargo. All submissives he’d dealt with had been respected and had their well beings always put at the forefront but in this situation? This was more than just a dynamic. If it was just a month long playmate he’d simply say no. The idea of venturing into something like the view they had in front of them made him nervous. But with Y/N, he wanted to make her dreams come true. This was his partner, his lover above anything else. If she wanted him to tie her up, he would make it happen. It made him slightly nervous but that could be rectified with learning properly. It didn’t mean they needed to get to this level this fast. Learning together would be something he would enjoy. 

“Really?” She breathed, turning to look at his face. “We can try it? It seems complicated, Sir.” Her eyes widened slightly as she realized she could have possibly offended him. “I mean, I know you’re capable of it. I know you are, Sir. But…” Trailing off she looked back towards the woman again. “Sorry. Yes, Sir. I would like to try that and do the classes with you.” 

Harry wanted to laugh at how he knew her brain had just been jumbled. To be fair, he knew she had been worked up about this night for a bit. It was intimidating to her and he knew it, but he had promised to help her expand her knowledge and give her experiences. With no worry about her ex any longer, he had felt a far more relaxed shift in her and that had made a world of a difference, but he knew she still had things she was nervous to ask about. Things like the club and this sort of party excited and terrified her. His goal in all of it was to make her understand she didn’t need to be afraid in any of it. 

In fact, she didn’t need to think at all if she didn’t want to. That was his job.

“C’mon.” He gently spun her back around and placed his hand on the small of her back. “You’re jittery. Let’s get you relaxed, hm?” 

—-

Y/N hadn’t been positive in what he had meant by getting her relaxed. She had admitted to herself that it was a little freaky in how well Harry could read her and sometimes it made her wonder if he had some sort of supernatural thing to him, but in most events it led to her gain. 

In this instance, she really could have predicted what he would do but her mind hadn’t gone there at first. 

They’d arrived at a group very similar to what she had met at her first club experience. A few familiar faces and some new, but Harry had instructed her to keep quiet and simply wave at them because he knew that she was already slightly on edge. She’d had no issue with that decision being made for her considering her social anxiety had flared up and the excuse to not talk to people in that moment had been a blessing. When he’d introduced her as his girlfriend it had caused an entire mess of butterflies in her stomach, especially because of how proud he had sounded to say it. ‘His girlfriend, Y/N, who needed to shut her mind off for a bit.’ It seemed as if they knew what that meant and continued their conversation while Harry sat himself down at the end of the booth, using one simple word to guide her to her own. 

“Knees.” 

The butterflies from being called his girlfriend moved from her stomach to lower, clumsily moving to her spot- yes, her spot now- between his legs and sat on her knees like instructed. She waited for a moment as he took a sip of his drink, placing it down before leaning his body down towards her. 

“You’re overthinking.” Her Dominant sighed, reaching to caress her. “Think that pretty little head is being a little too much for you tonight. Just want you t’enjoy yourself. So I want you to stop thinking about anything and anyone but me.” Sliding his hand through her hair, he caressed the back of her head before moving towards her jaw. “I know this is overwhelming, Puppy. It’s a lot of new stuff and you’ve only been exposed to it a little bit. But I know that you’ll like it a lot more if you stop using your brain for useless things like worrying when you know I’ve got every single thing covered.” His voice moved into a croon as he tipped her head up towards him, the other hand messing with the pendant that marked her as his own. “You’re my girl, hm? And I’ve got you. Everything else is my responsibility. I’ll tell you when to worry. I think you need to shut that head up a little bit, so…” Releasing the pendant, his hand went towards his belt, pulling at the tongue and starting the process for her. “M’gonna give you something else to focus on.” 

Y/N got a little fuzzy from there. If her Dominant was good at anything, it was knowing what she needed. Her mouth was full, the heavy weight of him on her tongue as she slowly bobbed her head over his lap. One grounding hand was lightly tangled in her hair at the nape of her neck with no intention of making her take any more, but a reminder that he was there.  

She was focused on it. The submissive knew how he liked it, had spent plenty of time in the past few months with his cock in her mouth, but it felt perfect right here. At first it had been a bit of a thrill, knowing people would walk by and see that she was doing something so lewd and inappropriate out in a semi open space, but the longer she went it felt like every thought sort of melted out of her ears and the only thing that was left were the good ones. He had been right about her emptying her head a little, giving her a task. Every so often she’d hear the vibration of his voice as he joined the conversation at the table, or see his eyes as he would look down to check on her, but he was giving her the choices here in a way. 

He had been correct. Harry controlled everything else, and Y/N was getting to focus on this one simple thing. 

While she hadn’t meant to, she was getting a little messy. It had panicked her slightly at first when she realized a bit of her saliva had dripped onto his trousers but when she had gone to wipe it off, he had held her hair tight to keep her in place and simply shook his head. “Hands behind your back. You’re alright.” 

It had been her final sign to let it all go, take what she could of his length into her mouth and suck on it in the way he liked. Despite him not saying it out loud she could tell he liked it. As much as he had been able to learn her tells, she had learned quite a few of his. The jaw clenches, the shift of his thighs, and more importantly the throbs against her tongue. The taste had been her reward as she chased more of the precum that had dribbled out, working for more of that. The desperation for more of him felt like the only thing that mattered, and feeling his hand pet over her head again had her reeling, It had felt like he had given her his stamp of approval and the fuzzier her brain went, the more that mattered to her. Pleasing him, making him feel good, making him proud. 

Letting out a soft whimper against his cock, she made herself take a little more- effectively gagging a little and making him pause his conversation and look down at her. Raising an eyebrow at her, he shook his head wordlessly as a sign to take it easy before he let her return to it. For some reason, the wordless reprimand had her feeling it all over. She would do better, she would make him happy.

Her own heartbeat could be felt between her thighs. Her poor clit was swollen and aching, and the craving for relief was so strong she would probably hump his leg like the pet she wanted to be for him if he asked. She was fully drenched. Effectively dripping down her own thighs, every bit of the cute little panties she had worn for him rendered useless. It wasn’t something she had sought out to do like this but she knew very well now that he had managed to make her a mess regardless of what she was doing. Pleasuring Harry was almost the equivalent of being pleasured herself and feeling his cock pulse slightly against her tongue, his hand tightening in her hair, knowing that she was the one able to make him crumble even just the littlest bit was something that nearly got her off. 

It had to have been thirty minutes. Maybe less, maybe more, but she knew she couldn’t recall much from before, her jaw was sore, her chin was a mess of saliva and her makeup had definitely run a little from eyes watering under her mask when she had felt him start to squirm. The reason it would all be worth it would be to get him to orgasm, make him feel the pleasure she had been hoping for. Doubling her efforts, she moved a little faster, sucked on him a little harder, letting her tongue brush the slide on the way up and caress the underside of his cock on the way down- and suddenly, she was pulled off. 

“What?” She gasped, blinking rapidly as she looked with longing towards his soaked cock and the string of saliva that connected her bottom lip to it. He had taken her back by the hair, his cheeks slightly flushed as his other hand moved down towards her chin with a napkin to wipe the mess off. “Sir? Why? Was- Was I bad?” The tears had welled in her eyes without her permission, brain not able to fully comprehend in the moment why she had been stopped. She’d been doing good, she was doing what he liked! 

“None of that, Pet. You’re the best girl.” He soothed, trying to spare what was left of her lipstick from the napkin before tossing it back on the table. “My amazing girl. Just didn’t want to cum down that pretty throat right now.” The reassurance relaxed her a little bit, though a few rogue sniffles remained. It always amazed him how much she liked to make him feel good but the truth was, he was just as guilty when it came down to her own. 

“Then why?” She paused for a second before leaning her head against his knee, pouting up at her Dominant. “Why did you stop me, Sir?” 

“Because I want you to come up on my lap.” 

He remembered how much she had liked it last time. Watching the performance, letting him finger her until she made a mess, completely and utterly useless as she laid on his lap and let him take care of her. He’d wanted her on his cock that time but had been biding his time. Tonight, he was fairly confident, it would be a good night to try. 

Y/N, like the good submissive she was, scrambled back up to her feet and let him guide her onto his lap. It had her feeling the heat under her skin, scorching her as she lightly placed her hands on his shoulders and allowed him to move her body how he liked it. The first little zip of nerves climbed back up her spine but she tried to ignore it, spreading her thighs further until she let out the little gasp from feeling his cock against her cunt. The fabric of her panties was essentially useless, thin and soaked through. It was almost as if nothing was there. 

“You did so good for me, sweet girl.” He placed one hand on her ass, letting the babydoll she wore rise up and expose her ass to anyone who could take a chanced glance over. “Y’know that? I just feel… So proud of you, all the time.” Lips ghosted her cheek, a rough squeeze to her ass making her squeak, squirming slightly on his lap. “Wanted to empty that head out so all you could focus on was making me feel good. Knew it would get you wet but… Fuck me, Pet. You’ve gone and soaked right through.” Guiding her slowly, he helped her drag her cunt across his cock and smiled at the shudder. 

“I-I like making you feel good, Sir.” She replied, trying to drown out the noise. Under the table it had been far easier, but being able to hear footsteps stop right where she was pretty sure they were, had her more aware of their presence than she wanted to be. That fuzzy feeling remained, but the warmth had been seeping away slowly. She wanted it back. “I wanted to make you cum.” 

“I know you did, Pet.” Harry sighed, dragging her wet excuse of panties to the side so there was nothing between them. “But you know where my favorite place t’cum is, don’t you?” 

“Yeah.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering shut at the feel of the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit. The sensation was one of her favorites, the two sensitive parts making each other pant. Her clit was swollen and achy, the mere touch of it had her feeling needy for it. She tried to focus on that little bit of relief.

“Is it your tits?” He watched her shake her head, eyes looking down towards where he was rubbing them. “No? Maybe on your ass? S’that where I like to cum?” 

“No, Sir.” She could see people out of the corner of her eyes as she tried to glue all her focus on him. It was an odd juxtaposition of feelings, having her cunt weep against his cock and yet feeling that anxiety in her stomach try to push back up her throat. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint him. 

“No, that’s right. My favorite place to cum is right in that snug little cunt.” He murmured, placing a few kisses to the corner of her mouth. “So do you think you can be good for me n’let me do that?” 

Y/N wanted to say yes. 

The Submissive wanted to say yes and give him everything he ever wanted because he was good, so good and lovely and wonderful and the one man she knew she wanted to spend forever with. She wanted to say yes and let him use her body to cum while ultimately giving her an orgasm because that's how it always worked and he refused to let her have anything but two when he was involved. She wanted to say yes because she had always imagined this moment, loved the idea of people watching her be fucked by this man, but the anxiety that had been trying to claw up her stomach had pushed past her esophagus and spilled out of her mouth as she began to shake. 

It felt all at once like she was too vulnerable. Something she had never felt before, her stomach turning cold as she could feel the eyes on her from behind and she couldn't focus on the safe touches Harry was giving, she couldn’t find the safety of his words and she felt like she had been shot into open air where everyone could see every bit of her. She heard a cough, far too close to be someone just passing by and no one at their table that felt even slightly familiar. That warm feeling she had been in under the table with him inside her mouth had fallen to the ground and broke into shards- and she felt like if she moved, she was going to be cut. 

She didn’t want to stop. Y/N felt like a failure as her eyes welled up and she watched as he noticed her tense, pulled back from her face with furrowed brows as her bottom lip trembled. “Hey, baby. Sweetheart, what’s the matter-”

“R-Red.” She squeaked, shaking hands grabbing at his shirt. “Please? Red, I think, I-I feel like I can’t breathe-” 

It didn’t take him any time. 

She was fixed in her outfit and he was tucked away in seconds. Her head was still spinning as he stood up, holding her in his arms as he tucked her face into his neck. She felt something being placed over her but she was trying to find her mental footing as she heard Harry bark something out, swiftly walking towards somewhere she had no clue of. Her body was shaking in a way she was somewhat familiar with but her head felt like it had taken a freefall from that place she had just been in moments ago. Her chest was moving and she knew it, but her temples felt tight, like she had a lack of oxygen as she felt him walk into a room that was cooler than where they’d been and the noise of the party was almost drowned out. As soon as he was sat, he removed the masks from both of their faces, concern etched further on his own.

“Sweetheart- Y/N, can you look at me please?” His voice was soft, gentle as he spoke to her. “I’m right here. It’s just us now, yeah?” His hand ran up and down her back, underneath some sort of layer of whatever had been tossed around her form. 

“I’m sorry.” Her voice choked out against his neck as the tears fell steadily. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to, I wanted to have you and-” Another sob wracked her body, holding so tightly to his shirt that she was sure her nails would poke holes into it. “I wanted to make you happy and all I d-did was embarrass you.” 

“Absolutely not.” He spoke calm, but firm. Like the thought of it devastated him, but he was keeping his cool. “You did no such thing. I’m not angry, upset at you, and I’m surely not embarrassed.” Finally he managed to get her tear slicked face out of his neck and felt his stomach drop. Seeing her feel so upset over something like this made his own heart hurt for her. But the last thing he would allow is for her to feel as if safe wording was some sort of failure.

“Do you know how utterly proud I am of you?” 

His words seemed to surprise her, making her hiccup as she tried to wipe at her eyes. “Why?” 

“Because.” His eyes narrowed slightly before he eased up, softening yet again. “I have told you time and time again, you use your colors when you need to. You safe when you need to. That’s why we have the system. If you are feeling like you can’t do something, like you can’t push any further, I want you to safe. I want you to trust me. Calling a safe word is not a failure. It’s a success.” Pulling her forehead towards him, he placed a kiss there to try and solidify that to her before taking her eyes. “Look at me. I am proud of you. So incredibly proud. I’m very upset that I didn’t see that you weren’t feeling it, but that’s my job. You did your job perfectly. I told you a few times before we went that I know this part is still new to you and I wanted you to be safe with me. That means feeling like you can tell me when you don’t. “ 

Yes, he was pissed at himself. Usually he was better at reading her. Y/N was easy to read for him, like he had written a book on her tells, and he should have known that she was uncomfortable. He’d mistaken a bit of the tenseness for her pleasure, but he should have been looking at her face when trying something so new. So public. This wasn’t on her at all. But he did want to know where it stemmed from. 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N apologized again, starting to calm a tad. “I didn’t- I don’t know what happened.” Y/N had had panic attacks a few times in the past and it felt nearly identical to it. What the mystery was, was why this triggered one when that was something she had always wanted. She’d had many fantasies about it all. She felt safe with Harry. So what went wrong was a question even she had. 

“You don’t have to apologize, my sweet girl. Never.” He gave her a small smile as he pulled her closer to him, wanting her that close for his own comfort as well. The word falling from her lips had scared him but as soon as he had realized she was physically safe, he had got it moving. Thank fuck that the people around them had taken the hint and dispersed, even if it had taken growing ‘fuck off’ to a straggler who got in his way. “Do you want to tell me what you think happened?” 

“I don’t know.” She said truthfully, finally letting her hands unclench from his shirt. Wincing as she undid her fist, she knew that the marks her fingernails had dug into her own palms were going to be sore tomorrow. “I.. I started to notice everyone, I think. I think being pulled away before you…finished, it took me out of a headspace too fast? I don’t know. It’s never happened before when we’ve had scenes.” That was the truth. It shouldn’t have been something to be too cautious over. 

“I think you fell a bit into that subspace again.” He theorized, sighing as he pushed the strands of hair away from her wet cheeks. “I didn’t fully realize it, I think. From the masks. I thought maybe you were going that direction, but you were further in than I could recognize.” And fuck, did that make him feel like a bit of a failure himself. 

“I didn’t even know.” She could see the frustration on his face as she snuggled up against him. The room he had taken them to was relatively cold but the shivering came from the panic, she was pretty sure. “I just remember suddenly feeling like… Everything was cold and sharp. And I felt so many eyes and, and I didn’t know why my throat felt like it was closing but I just wanted everyone to go away.” It felt childish to explain it that way but words were escaping her right now. “I didn’t want to say it. I wanted to keep going because I wanted to make you happy. I didn’t want to make you upset. But I couldn’t take all the people looking at me. I felt them behind me.”

“It’s alright.” He soothed. What he wanted to do was wrap her in the cocoon of their duvet, make her warm and relaxed with a shower to wash away this feeling and fill her stomach with whatever food she wanted. “It’s all okay. I have never and will never be upset because you don’t want to do something anymore. Your consent and your safety are the most important things to me. I don’t care how far we are into anything, if m’about to finish or we’ve barely started. If you don’t want to, we won’t.”

“I-I feel the same.” Her voice was small but she peered up at him through her wet lashes. “If you don’t want to, we won’t.” 

And God, if he didn’t melt right there. Harry let out a sad laugh, giving her lips a chaste peck. “Thank you, my sweet girl. I am so proud of you. I don’t care about where we are, you’re the most important person to me. I know it was hard to do it and you were scared, but you did it.” Being truthful with her was easy. He didn’t feel like he needed to hide things from her. “In all honesty, I would be very, very upset with you if you didn’t. Our trust needs to go both ways, and you showed me tonight that it does.” If he needed any further clarification that she was fit for this, it was tonight. 

“I thought I’d like it.” She whispered, playing with the buttons on his shirt. “I’ve always had… fantasies, you know?” The sniffles continued, but he had a feeling it was her body releasing that overwhelming stress. “I wanted to be watched. I liked it last time. I don’t know exactly where it went wrong.” 

“Well, it can be a few things. It could have been you being overwhelmed at the party already, or that there were too many people. You may not like having people behind you where you can’t see them, or people you don’t know at all. It could also be that maybe this isn’t exactly what you like. But the beauty of it is that we can test these things out later on down the line. It can be shelved for now. There is no rush. We’ll figure it out.” The Dominant would have to discuss some of it later to figure out what exactly it was that went wrong but for now? Harry just wanted to take care of her.

—---

At home, Y/N was feeling much better. Thankfully they’d been able to leave out of a back exit and she didn’t need to face anyone, Harry asking for someone to fetch their phones and coats for them at the front. There was still that embarrassment laying under her skin but Harry had done an excellent job at talking her down. He always had. 

He’d driven them home with his hand on her thigh, running his thumb up and down her soft skin as a comfort to the both of them. She’d been handed his phone and the honor of the aux, so she had put on some of her own music to try and break her out of the weird mood that had arised. When they got home, though, Harry had asked if she was okay to be alone for a few minutes when he let Buttons out- which she was. Y/N was okay, really. She was going to be a little shaky for the rest of the night and she knew that from past experiences, but she would survive. 

It had been quick and part of her felt bad for Buttons for a shortened outside break, but selfishly she was able to let out a breath when he had padded into the bedroom. It had been at his insistence that they shower together and Y/N wasn’t about to say no. He’d taken it upon himself to wash her hair for her, claiming aftercare wasn’t done just because there had been a drive back. So she let him. Y/N let him wash her and shampoo her hair, which he missed calling in being a hairstylist for the one reason his hands were magic, and she let him dry her too. When he had first said he had a towel warmer she had made fun of him for being bougie, but she got it now. 100%. 

This was the first time, however, that he had put her all over body lotion on her. She’d been lotioned on her ass from his spankings before, but this had been different. He’d chosen the mango one, claiming it smelled like summer, and gently worked it into her skin. Taking his time, he spoke in his soft tone while he methodically made sure there were no streaks of too much lotion left. His hands were careful, tender with her in a way she hadn’t experienced even in his past aftercare. He seemed to be going the extra mile when his usual was incredible as it was, but she wasn’t going to complain about the softness the man was awarding her with. Halfway through he had told her to grab his phone and make an order for whatever food she wanted and to read him the options. 

When she was younger, she hadn’t imagined being in bed with the man she was with as he rubbed lotion on her body, reading him the menu of ‘The Charm of Italy’, but she wouldn’t have imagined it any other way. 

At the end of the night when she was wrapped up snug in his arms, the light sound of his breathing as her lullaby, she knew then that no one was better for her than him. It had taken her a long time to find what she wanted, years of putting up with someone that merely tolerated her, but she had found him. A man she had been pushed into, but fully embraced- and fuck, she never felt so warm.

[demon-at-peace]

DC + DP theatre kids

So Sam is such a theatre kid, don't even try to lie to me, she's dramatic, sassy ect, but she wouldn't ever participate in it, because the popular kids would be there, and it would just be awkward, after highschool though she drags Danny and Tucker to a small theatre three hours away.

Located in Gotham of all places, the current play is Hamilton, (purely for myself) Sam is Hamilton, Tucker is Thomas Jefferson, and Danny decided to be Eliza, they are in love with it. They are singing Guns and Ships in car rides, just utterly in love with the tiny Gothic theatre and the play.

Sam is thriving, funding the theatre simply because she can't stand to see them go out of business. the theatre kid shenanigans are maxed out. They are gossiping in the wings (totally get told to shut up) Sam constantly complaining about itchy costumes.

And obviously the theatre hasn't had enough funds to put on a production like this for years. So they are going full out, and are sold out. The bats are worried, rouges are theatric, there is a reason the theatre hadn't gotten funding, or actors. The rogues liked to make a mess of things. After all last time something like this was the Grayson's.

So on the opening night everyone is just waiting, for something to go horribly terribly wrong. The bats stationed around waiting for the joker, or scarecrow, just something to happen. Dick is so stressed out, he's fretting, yelling at everyone, practically breaking down. The bats are nervous too, this is practically begging something to go wrong.

Except Danny, Tucker and Sam refuse to let something go wrong. The first interference, an attempt at releasing fear toxin, is easily stopped by Danny. The next rouge to try something is Mr. Freeze (idk I just needed a rogue) the room starts to get cold, and Hamilton stops it, delivering right on beat of one of his dramatic lines.

Joker goons come at some point and Danny (in full costume) is just foiling them effortlessly before strutting on stage and delivering the best performance of his life. Tucker utterly saves the tech from going wrong, mad scientist hacker mode and then flounces on stage as Thomas Jefferson .

the bats are smitten. Steph doesn't know what to say, the lead is hot, and clearly a meta, and just effortlessly beat up a goon in the wings of the stage.

Tim doesn't know what to say about this Thomas Jefferson, other than he's a genius, and really fucking pretty.

Jason might be in love with the badass crossdressing guy that's Eliza. Because anyone who can beat someone up while wearing a corset is his type.

Jason is full also in nerd mode, and is utterly oblivious, he's singing to songs, and full on in love with all the actors voices. So what if he knows Hamilton, he doesn't predict the headlines, or realize his career as a badass crime lord is done.

Duke is also a theatre kid and knows all the lyrics, because he was forced into an after school activity as a kid and fell in love. so he knows the lyrics too.

Eventually the performance is done, with nothing happening, the rogues beat to hell, the bats exhausted, but they still ask out their perspective partners, because if they lose the chance they will regret it for eternity.

They say yes, obviously. And the first dates just make them fall in love even more. Mind you the next play is even more chaotic.

---

Hamilton is just awesome. I have no defence, I am simply a nerd.

Sorry I haven't been posting, schools are stressful and I've been a moron. also thank ya'll for being amazing, fr tho I'm shocked so many people like my silly ideas, but thanks!

Also am I spelling theatre right? cause google agrees with me but Tumblr doesn't.

Bye!

[trippinsorrows]

dreamland: happy father's day

authors note: wanted to do something for father's day with our favorite not so little family. went a little overboard, cause i intended for the writing portion of this to be around 1k. don't ask.

the included graphics (the typos are intentional for the sake of realism) involve a lot of reading, but i think ya'll will appreciate them. at least, that's the hope.

happy father's day to all the dads' out here who actually deserve it.

lastly, there's a lil' line in one of the letters (it'll make sense once you reach that part) that will tie into sbto.

words: 3.5k 

warnings: none.

It’s chaotic, but in true Reign’s family fashion, it’s just to be expected. Not the morning, per se. No, that’s pretty simple. Roman wakes up alone in bed, unsurprised yet partially annoyed to find his wife not pressed up against him but the space next to him vacant.

An unacceptable thing.

It doesn’t take him much time to head to the bathroom, empty his bladder, complete his hygiene routine and head out the room. Moving through the halls of his massive house, the smallest smile on his face as he nears closer and closer to the kitchen. The sound of his kids, trying—mostly failing—to keep their voices down. The delicious, mouth watering aroma of whatever is being prepared, his favorites, most likely. And finally, the actual sight of it all.

Aroha is the first to lay her eyes on him from where she’s being held by Tama as he sets the table. But, instantly, she’s wiggling and itching to get down. “Daddy!” The loudest, happiest greeting as she runs towards him, Roman easily scooping her up as she holds him by his neck and kisses his cheek. “Happy Father’s Day!”

Shared sentiments from the rest of the kids who make their presence known. Lina and Leya from the kitchen where they help Solana finish up breakfast. Aria, as she steps away from the big banner that expresses the same happy wishes. Tama, as he finishes setting the table, making a smart ass comment that’s easily rebutted by Koa and Kai who walk in from taking out Coco and Max.

And finally, his stunning, amazing, perfect ass wife. That beautiful, bashful smile as she walks over, leaning up to kiss him on his cheek.

It’s the best kind of greeting.

Breakfast is just as chaotic as lunch. And dinner. And any time all of his kids are gathered in one setting, except there’s less requests for things the kids want and more obvious difficulty with keeping the day’s agenda a secret.

He could get one of them to break, most likely Aroha. Or, Aria, and he tries, but one pinch on his arm from his wife is all he needs to know that’s not the best idea.

Doesn’t stop him from trying again later in the day.

A day that has to be one of the calmest he’s had in so long, he can’t even remember a time where he could refer to any weekend as calm. No arguing between the Littles. No Aria popping up asking him the most random of things or talking for almost five minutes straight with little to no pause.

He’ll never understand just where in the hell she got her talkative personality from.

Not even his shadows—Lina and Tama—hovering around, either asking for something or just wanting to pick his brain/chat/or try to convince him to do something for their TikTok account.

Hell, even the fifty million pets that his kids all somehow finessed him into getting—or keeping—keep their distance.

It’s….peaceful. So much so that he even takes a nap. Something he’s certain he hasn’t done since his thirties. Maybe twenties.

And, it’s all do to the woman he honestly doesn’t know what he would do without. Solana manages it all, makes sure the kids give him some maybe needed space and alone time. Forces him to take that annoying, nasty ass tea that has him out within half an hour of consumption, thus allowing him to take said nap.

She handles everything, granting him some hours of relaxation before the madness.

And, there is madness. Such is the case when it comes to their kids.

Especially when it’s for an outing that requires the whole family. From Lina and Leya, all the way down to Roro. It’s the full family for what Roman realizes is dinner arrangements Solana made for him for Father’s Day. At Imàgo, the nicest Italian restaurant in the city. One of his favorites. Since Solana, Roman doesn’t have a specific favorite restaurant, and that would only change if his wife decided to open one of her own.

Not that he hasn’t mentioned it to her at one point or another over the years, and for a brief while, it was a loose idea, but it never materialized into anything more, mostly because of her already insane schedule, working PRN shifts for nursing, the foundation, and just all of their kids. Still, if it’s something she wants at some point, he’ll support it. He’ll support her. He’ll always support her.

“You like em’?”

Roman looks over from where he stands in front of the dresser, open velvet, black box in hand that reveals two black diamond tennis chains. Complimentary to the 44mm AP Skeleton Tourbillon Ceramic watch on his wrist.

Also a gift from his wife.

His wife who suddenly has Roman wanting to cancel anything she has planned that won’t let him stay in their bedroom and spend the rest of the night ravishing her. Solana’s dress is short and royal blue, long sleeves with her shoulders and upper arms exposed, along with a deep slit by the neckline that reveals her perfect ass breast. Silver red bottoms, large diamond teardrop earrings, and her massive pink diamond wedding ring are her only accessories. Her hair is pulled into a nice updo, and her makeup, though unnecessary, is just as bold and glamorous as she looks.

Good.

She looks good.

“Damn,” he breathes.

Her smile widens as she walks over, reaching for the box. “I’ll take that as a yes, though my outfit isn’t exactly what I was referring to.”

Roman is listening. Trying, at least. “Baby….” Her being so close to him also allows him a whiff of her perfume, sweet and gourmand. She always smells so damn good. Solana takes the box from him, laying it on the dresser, the turn of her body allowing him a brief glimpse at her ass that sits nice and round in said dress. His jaw clenches. “You sure you don’t wanna just stay in tonight?”

She gives him that look. “And do what exactly?”

You.

All night long. Till he physically can’t. And even then, what’s a little pain?

Solana shakes her head, motioning for him to bend down so she can place the necklaces on him. Roman straightens to his full height when she does as such, Solana’s palms on his chest. “Nice.”

He watches her gaze travels over him. In true Roman fashion, his outfits consists of mainly black. Dark dress pants, black dress shoes, a simple black shirt with a dark gray suit jacket.

Simple.

Solana leans in closer, Roman moving to tug her into him, hands resting on her ass. She makes a sound, batting her lashes. “Maybe we should st—”

“Okay.”

His quick and easy agreement makes her giggle. “Nice try, mi amor.” Solana lifts her hand to stroke his beard. “But, the kids are excited about going out with you tonight. It took a lot for them to keep it all a secret.” Hence why they should have just told him in the first place, but he digresses. “However, if you’re up to it, when we get back…”

He makes a sound, dipping his head to kiss along her jawline. “Baby, you know I’m always up for that with you.” He doesn’t even need to be looking at her to see the smile on her face as she moves her arms around his neck. “How you think we got all these damn kids now?” He squeezes her ass, prompting her to squeal and shove him away.

“Behave,” she warns, eyes narrowed playfully, wagging her finger.

“I’m not promising nothing.”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course.”

The surprises continue for the Tribal Chief as he and his wife make their way out of room, some of the kids already downstairs, ready to go, a few others (Tama and Aria) the ones to keep everyone waiting. But, there’s something that comes over him when finally, the last two arrive down the steps, Aria saying something about “perfection taking time” and Tama popping the collar of his shirt.

That’s expected though. What’s unexpected is what Roman feels at seeing all of his children together, each wearing some shade of blue. His favorite color. Sure, Lina’s dress leaves little to the imagination. Leya’s does somewhat, too. But, seeing Aria and Aroha do “twirls” in their dresses. Koa and Kai, phones in hand, making snide comments about Tama still looking “washed.” It’s all so….wholesome.

And, it means a lot.

It really does.

The ride to the restaurant is, for the most part, fine. Lina drives Leya, Tama, and Aria, while the Littles ride with Roman and Solana. There’s a brief moment when they start arguing, but before he can even give them the, “when we get in this damn restaurant” speech, Solana is already on it.

Turned around in her seat, eyes narrowed just slightly, finger gesturing between the three, rapid words in Spanish leave her mouth, and though Roman has only learned a few words in Spanish since they’ve been together, he doesn’t have to be fluent to know she just instilled the fear of God in their three youngest. Especially when all she receives in response is quiet, synchronized “yes, ma’am.”

It puts a small smile on his face.

If only she would do that more often.

Imàgo is rented out. The only guests present the ones with the last name of Reigns and the security details assigned to said family. Three tables are used for the family of nine. The OG’s and Aria at one, the Littles at another, and Roman and Solana by themselves at the last. He’s a bit skeptical of that, primarily his youngest three being together in such close proximity, but it seems whatever the hell Solana said to them worked because they remain, for the most part, behaved.

All three tables are in their own worlds, sans Roman overhearing Lina make flirtatious comments to the waiter. A young punk probably in his early twenties.

Roman has him replaced with another waiter.

Aroha then confuses said new waitress with her requests for “chickey nuggies.”

“Chicken nuggets,” he clarifies, the young girl looking over at him with a mixture of clarity, confusion, and anxiety. “She likes chicken nuggets.”

“Umm, well, we don’t serve—”

“You do now.”

Aroha ends up with her nuggets, pleased and happier than ever.

Roman hasn’t a clue what Tama and the boys order, just knows there’s way too many plates, specifically in front of them. Same for Aria who always likes to order a damn near sampler of everything on the menu every time they go out.

“Daddy, I need options!” is her usual “explanation.”

“Damn kids acting like we been starving them,” Roman mutters as Solana steals a forkful of his Traditional scarpariello.

She chuckles, waiting until she’s done chewing before responding. “They like going out, baby.” She trades in her fork for a spoon to gather more of that nasty ass soup she ordered, taking a spoonful before adding, “besides, they’re paying for it anyway.”

Roman gives her a look. “What?”

She nods, using a napkin to blot her mouth. “They wanted to. Part of their gift to you.”

He reclines in his seat, partially taken back. “How can they even aff—” It’s the combination of Solana giving him that look along with him remembering who he’s talking about. “Never mind.”

Roro is too young, Aria spends money as soon as she gets it, Tama still probably owes his brothers, but the rest of them? Lina, especially Leya, Koa, and Kai? They most definitely have it.

Still, that doesn’t mean he wants his kids spending money on him. Roman makes a mental note to wire money back to their accounts tomorrow.

Solana is taking a sip of her champagne, gaze jumping from the other two tables back to her husband across from her when she sees him staring at her. She frowns. “What?” The frown deepens, Solana moving to pull her compact mirror out her Birkin. “I have something on my face, don’t—”

She’s stopped by the way he reaches over to take her hand in his, thumb brushing over her knuckles, before he lifts her hand to his mouth, placing the gentlest kiss. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Her smile is the equivalent of a million watts. “Thank you.” Roman notices the way her cheeks redden, an almost nervous shake of her head. “I almost didn’t wear this.”

His thick, bushy brows furrow. “Why?”

“I’m a mother, Roman. I’m in my forties now.” She shrugs, gesturing to said dress that has him thinking nothing even remotely appropriate considering the presence of all their kids. “It just feels a little weird to have my breast so exposed—”

“I don’t mind.” Not one bit. Not even a little.

She rolls her eyes. “Of course, you don’t.”

Curious, still holding her hand, thumb caressing her soft skin, he asks, “what made you wear it, then?”

Solana’s mouth curves into an amused smile. “The girls.” A quiet giggle, as she sighs. “Lina, specifically, said I should remind you just why there’s so many of them.”

Roman’s eyes rake over his wife’s curvaceous ass body, settling happily on her breast. “She wasn’t wrong.”

Not wrong at all.

It’s a nice, pleasant thing. Talking. Spending time together, even in the presence of his kids who occasionally require the attention of either parent. There is a brief issue though when arguing commences between The Littles. Over what, Roman doesn’t know nor does he really care to know.

It’s usually something stupid.

Aroha ends up sitting at the table with her parents, something that pleases her as she opts to sit in Roman’s lap versus the chair they’d pulled up for her.

It’s a bit inconsequential though as it occurs right before dessert arrives. A beautifully decorated sheet cake that reads Happy Father’s Day in blue icing, surrounded by the names of all his kids, and a customized cake topper. OTC in red and black.

Solana’s lips press against his bearded cheek, murmuring a quiet, heartfelt “happy father’s day, mi amor” as Tama cuts the cake, Aria pouting over how she wanted to do it, and Aroha standing on his lap, reaching for the first slice.

The cake was made by Solana and the kids, primarily Solana, Lina, Leya, Aria, and Roro. Roman is certain the extent his boys helped was using the piping bag to sign their names. It’s obvious with the distinct lettering of all the signatures.

However, surprises continue when the kids start sharing their gifts with him, starting with the drawing Aroha made of the family, Koa and Kai with big red X’s over their face. To the phenomenal sketch Leya drew, using one of his favorite photos of the two of them when she was Aroha’s age as the inspiration. Lina and Tama gift him with two pairs of custom Nike’s, the designs black and red, and blue and white. OTC stitched on the back. Koa and Kai give him a new iPad, again, OTC customized on the back, but even better, it’s already set up with the settings and everything the boys know their tech illiterate father knows and enjoys.

And lastly, Aria’s gift is a video montage she put together of home footage from Roman and the kids over the years. It’s similar to the one she curated for Roman and Solana’s anniversary that one year and appreciated just as much.

Loved just as much.

The night is finalized in the best sort of way.

Pictures.

Individual and group photos.

Roman takes photos with all of his kids individually and in group settings, whether it be him with the OG’s, him with the Littles, him with the girls, or him with his boys throwing up the one's. The final set are, naturally, with Solana. His favorite perhaps being the candid Leya captures of Solana holding onto him, head back, in mid laughter, a small, content smile on his face as he looks down at her.

And then, the entire family, those images captured by their young waitress.

Pictures that includes his youngest to his oldest and the woman that made it all happen for him.

Roman only feels strongly about a handful of things, most of those things revolving around his wife and family. And, tonight is no different. He’s not sure he’s ever felt as loved, or even as happy, as he does in that moment.

At that point.

Because it’s truly not until a few hours later, when they’re all home, the kids all in their rooms, either fast asleep or close to it, that Solana meets him in his office as she typically does the evening after Father’s Day or his birthdays. In hand, a variety of cards from herself and the kids, except this time, she doesn’t have card envelopes.

She has long rectangular envelopes.

Letters. She has letters.

Roman’s brows are furrowed as he accepts them, his wife leaning over to kiss his temple, as she quietly explains, “we did it a little different this year.”

"I see," he murmurs, shuffling through the envelopes, counting eight. One from each of the kids, including his wife.

Roman lays the letters down on the desk in front of him, pulling her into his lap. He lifts his hand to her face, palm on her cheek. "Thank you, Solana."

It's not unlike her to go above and beyond for things like his birthday and Father's Day. She's been like that since Lina and Leya were born. But, it's the fact that even after all this time, she still jumps through hoops, deals with the headaches that comes with arranging everything, managing all of their kids with their variety of personalities, to make it happen. To make these little days of celebration sprinkled throughout the year something memorable. Something special.

Solana tilts her head, leaning into his hand. "How many times do I have to tell you that you never have to thank me for loving you?" Solana shifts again, leaning forward, her forehead pressed against his, fingers against the thin cotton of his black undershirt. "That's one of my greatest gifts in life."

Second to only loving the kids. Of that, he's sure.

Despite it feeling virtually impossible, with every year that passes, Roman's love and appreciation for his wife continues to grow exponentially. Each selfless act of love and kindness fodder for an evergreen of emotions.

Of love.

It's what makes him even more appreciative that he ignored her wishes when she said she didn't feel like doing much for her birthday this year. Roman also knows his wife well enough to know that was simply a generic response and filter for the truth being that she didn't want to see him go out of his way to take time off work and find arrangements for the kids.

Too bad. He did all that already.

Solana will spend three days in Bora Bora for her birthday with her girlfriends. He'll fly and meet her there on the third night, from which he'll take her to the Maldives (she loved it the last time they went) where they'll spend the remaining four days together. Just the two of them.

It prevents their kids from being away from both parents for too long, something that hasn't ended up going very well the few times they've tried. Nothing terrible. Just a shit ton of phone calls, texts, and an endless amount of voice messages. Usually from the Littles. Roro claiming the boys are being mean to her, and the boys trying to convince their parents why she should be put up for adoption.

So, the usual.

Solana climbs up off his lap, stroking his beard. "Don't take too long." Her hands drop to her waist as she fiddles with the tie of her silk robe, tone suggestive, "mami still has to give papi his final gift." Fuck. "And, it's only a matter of time before one of the kids will be outside our door—"

"I hope they like the feel of the carpet outside it then, cause that's exactly where they'll be staying."

"Roman." She giggles, shaking her head. He wonders if she knows he's being serious. Solana leans over, a final kiss to the lips and a soft, “I love you,” before she walks out, heading back to their bedroom.

Roman can’t really remember when or how it started, but as far back as he can recall, this part of the day has always been reserved just for him. When he reads the cards from his family. He’s almost sure he never outright told Solana he prefers to read them alone. Just knows that she knows it’s his preference.

To have that space.

That space for vulnerability.

And there exists no greater word to define what Roman experiences reading each letter, starting with Aroha’s and ending with Solana’s, the combination of it all leaving the Tribal Chief quiet and full, eyes misty from the abundance of it all.

The love.

[takes1]

final part. one night stand aftermath with needy!tsukishima

sorry for the wait :0 this is a looong one. last installment! thanks for supporting ya'll. if you want more tsukki, just let me know

warnings. nsfw. minors DNI

details. fem!reader / rough sex / counter sex / porn with plot / flirting / one night stand aftermath / trust issues!reader / needy!tsukki / timeskip!tsukki / apartment setting / communication / a deal being made / 3.1k words

links. my masterlist. [part one, part two.] more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN.

Your breath grew shallow under the weight of his hand on your upper thigh.

It was funny, your confident, split-second choice not to wear anything under your skirt this evening suddenly all you could think about.

Tiny glances. To and from the glint of his glasses in the sunset, the dashes on the road zipping by as he took you back to his place, the tendons working on the top of his hand as he squeezed your supple flesh, hungry- though his eyes gave no indication.

His car was not impressive, but it was exceptionally clean and maintained well. It helped more than anything else, more than any of his mannerisms in particular, to put you at ease.

The first and last words you had exchanged was about the music about six minutes ago. It was kept at a low enough volume to talk over, but no such conversation got off the ground. So, it was quiet and you sat alert, tummy in knots (some good, some bad) with clammy palms and a racing heart.

This state of uncertainty didn't get much better as you made your way upstairs into his apartment.

Where was the kind-of-sweet guy working part-time at the museum? Every time you met him again, it was like his personality had done a complete 180 and you needed to relearn how to talk to him.

You both stood a moment in the doorway, slipping off your shoes. He grew about four inches taller and immeasurably more imposing. You caught a tiny smirk on his jaw.

"Why wear heels?" He asked, toneless.

You squinted across the entryway, careful to not be accusatory nor provide any reference of height to boost his ego, "Because they're cute."

When you decided he was attractive that Friday night, his height was secondary.

Tsukishima lingered for a moment, a faint smile on his mouth, all wrapped up in something you said or how you said it. He shook his head and walked towards the kitchen without inviting you.

Yeah, his height was trivial compared to the complexity behind his eyes.

Again, you were left wondering what to do- you followed, of course. But it was out of hesitant assumption and not because he made it easy.

His head turned away when you entered.

You didn't have time to guess if he was waiting or not before he asked, "Would you like anything?"

It was vague, but since this was the kitchen, you settled on water.

The way he sank and slid, slow and tedious from his spot to grab you a glass made you hold yourself in doubt. But, he was smiling.

"What's so funny?" You had to ask.

Worry was apparent on your brow. He couldn't see it turned around.

"You still don't trust me, do you?"

You couldn't clean up the shock on your face before he saw it. It was exactly what he was looking for, apparently. He still thought that was funny.

You struggled to craft a response that was both articulate and true, "I guess I don't. I don't know you."

It lingered in the air for a few seconds. In fact, those seconds felt so long that you began to question your choice to come here. You thought to exactly where you put your shoes.

He looked contemplative. He crossed his arms, but not to close himself off. "But we still fucked."

You laughed at him, at the absurdity.

"I know."

You repeated, shaking your head, "I- I know. What, are you trying to guilt trip me over leaving? I know I hurt your feelings, but I don't owe you anything."

The island separating you felt bigger.

He blew a breath, brow raised. You regretted saying it that way. He just made you nervous.

But he laughed again, "Jesus, uh..." He picked up your glass and closed the distance, arm up as a little surrender to your words, "I guess you're not wrong."

He settled next to you, side flush against you when he handed you the glass.

You stared at it, tapping, and considered your options. You opened your mouth and took a breath to apologize.

"Don't say sorry," He stated. He met your eyes for a moment, then shook his head with a little smile, "I like that."

Heat crawled up your neck and inspired you to down all the water in your hands. You set the empty glass aside and wiped your mouth with your forearm. He thought it was cute, but kept it to himself.

The facts were as out there as they were going to get for you; he didn't do one night stands, he was convinced he had met a 'nice girl' and took you home, got his feelings hurt when you left, he probably thought it was fate that you met at the museum, but... now, what did he want?

"I don't trust you either," He admitted, moving slow to pin you between his arms, against the counter.

His eyes gave you no indication of what he meant by that. He looked mean. Like he could really hurt you, or your feelings at a minimum.

A flash of apprehension spread across your face. You looked to the left and right, then back at him, who found your little panic charming.

His indescribable intensity was why, when he closed the distance to kiss you, you paused.

He sighed against you for a second, then slowly straightened out. It took you a second because you were dumbfounded by how out of place his sudden affection felt, but thought it preferable to his ominous and vague nature.

At least when he was kissing you, you didn't have to guess.

Before he could take your hesitation to heart, you stretched up, hands clasped on his shoulders, in his hair, to return it tenfold.

His tongue was familiar and his lips were comforting. He leaned into you, trapping you against the counter, but it steadied you both.

God, why didn't he start out with this?

A soft moan shared between your lips sent him spiralling- his hand clutched your waist, under your flimsy little shirt, and his thumb rubbed against your tummy, rendering you a little weak in the knees.

His body felt perfect against yours. No room for second guessing.

He parted for a moment, and you caught the strangest look in his eyes. An intensity that making out shouldn't have warranted- a pain that was beyond an overdue erection.

"I...ah, I can't-," You gasped between his extra kisses, "Figure you out-!" Your hand flew to support yourself when he lifted you off of your feet from your hips.

You locked your legs around his waist, and nearly missed when you grabbed for his shoulders. It didn't matter much, but it startled you. In your panicked searching, you couldn't even find the brown in his eyes.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth at the feeling of you through his pants. That little no-underwear detail didn't go ignored earlier.

"Mmnyou don't have to," He muttered dismissively.

There was no chance to question further before he took your lips hostage once more, his hand firm against the back of your head.

Though logically, his evasiveness was concerning, it did nothing short of send an addictive current straight down your spine. Thinking grew tough, quickly.

His tongue was easier to deal with than your doubts. After all, you were always just a hook-up, anyway.

A squeak caught in your throat at the way he pushed you into the cold counter, the way he loomed over and blocked out the overhead light except for the tips of his golden hair, the way he made sure you didn't bump your head on the way down.

It was difficult returning his rough kisses. For the most part, you focused on just taking them instead, but that became nearly impossible when he started to roll his hips into yours.

Perfect, warm waves crashed over you and kept your legs heavy and weak. It was all you could do to keep up with him.

"F-uck," A choked sigh against the shell of your ear made you twitch, "I'm not gonna last for shit."

You giggled at his soft, disappointed admission. He put his face in the curve of your neck and wrapped his other arm around you. It was tight. Secure, as you rolled your hips over the outline of his cock.

"We'll go a few rounds tonight, yeah?" Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to sound.

A long inhale, taken from in your hair you couldn't help but notice, and he gave an approving hum against your neck in a long, tingly kiss.

He freed an arm to hold your wrists above your head, the other tracing up your shirt to tease your chest.

That little pout you gave him earned you a quick, rough kiss into more possessive ones all along the side of your neck- it paired well with the cruel pinching under your shirt and his heavy burden between your legs.

Soon, you were panting, dizzy and sweaty with just one thought in your head.

"You're-- ah-h, optimistic," He was just short of asking.

His little moan made your hips automatically buck- you couldn't wait around to take him again. His grip, once you expressed the desire to free yourself, was laughably light.

The metallic sounds of his belt coming undone and his zipper lowering percussed your sultry, sarcastic tone well, "Stop trying to figure me out."

Shuddery breath caught in his throat as you pulled him out. It hadn't been too long since the last time, objectively speaking, but the feeling of his warm cock in your hands was one you desperately missed.

It slowly started to feel more right after that.

You didn't have a grasp on who he was, what he wanted, what he was thinking- but when he pulls back to at least press a slow, longing kiss to your soaked pussy under your skirt, it feels right.

It feels simple. Something you were more comfortable with, more used to. Certainly an easier feeling to navigate than this serpentine man, holding you with devoted fingers, but staring you down like you had wronged him.

He got carried away, mouth sticky and hot around your aching clit, big hands shoved up your shirt to scour every inch of you he hadn't remembered well enough the first time. Now he'd never forget it.

"Mm-! Ok-ay, okay, please--," Your whine, your squirming, was tended to immediately.

His hand slid and covered so much of your neck, jaw- the whole side of your face, in fact, that you felt your skin burning underneath it. He smothered you in a wet, sloppy kiss.

When he pushed into you, you couldn't help but think of the first time.

"Oh-h," You seethed at his size, only finding that it made him grip you harder, like he was holding you together, scared you might break apart.

Your squeak at the sensation was higher, your eyes wider, as you found his gaze low and almost plaintive.

It was different from that night. You were both a little drunk, but still. He was excited, confident, more twitchy. Faster, in a lot of ways. It came across as rushed to you and it helped justify leaving when you did. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy the passion, or the absurdness of being carried up the stairs like that, but you figured he was a one-trick pony. Like most guys.

Now you felt like you were the one rushing things. He held you still by the fat of your hips when you tried to get some friction.

His kisses were softer. Deliberate and savored. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

He was perfect, beating slow and smooth between your thighs, your bodies intertwined like you wanted, but it left something to be desired. You wanted his expression to be that of lust, not whatever this was.

"What's- ah-h--, what's'wrong?" You whispered against his lips.

He pulled away to look at you, glancing around your features with that same pitiful look. Where was the passion? His charming, kinda mean, -but impressive, nonetheless- one liners?

"Do you want me?" Was a whisper right back, the mix of warmth and minty coolness in his breath a tingly shock across your face.

He didn't look in your eyes for very long once he realized the answer was not quite ready for him.

Scanning your body instead, he found many worthy things to distract himself with. Chief among them was in the form of making you take even longer to give him a response.

A gentle, slippery prodding around your clit made you gasp.

"Mm-! God," You whined, eyes rolled back as you fought to understand what he meant by that, "I want- ah-!..."

He was biting the inside of his lip with a quiet chuckle, memorizing your pretty frame twisting, writhing underneath him as you struggled to take him and get played with at the same time. Like a tired old art critic, waiting to understand the meaning of a masterpiece.

"I want you-," You sighed, luring his attention to your face again, "I- I want you to- tell me-,"

He finally laid off for a second, his hands instead grabbing at your hips to bring you further down on his cock. Your neck looked a little too plain, now that he was thinking about it. If you left, he wanted you to leave with something of his. He started working deep marks on your throat.

Your low, approving moan encouraged him.

You sighed, honest and plain, letting your nails scratch through his fluffy hair, "Tell me- you won't hurt me."

"I couldn't hurt'you," He quickly muttered against your bruising skin.

You were almost, not quite but almost, as fast. "Make me a deal, then."

He liked the sound of that. It was more practical than a promise. More real, something you could both risk for a perceived reward each. You didn't know it yet, but you really knew how to appeal to him.

His long fingers stretched over your thighs, lifting them to tease you a little from a different angle. Part of him wished he had waited to take you upstairs. You couldn't do much on the counter.

"I- ah, won't leave," You seethed as he stretched you out like that, brow furrowed at the addictive intensity, "As long as you don't hurt me."

The way he held your words in his head before he responded was unexpectedly attractive. Contemplative, he traded one of your thighs for your needy clit again and grinned at how you tightened around him.

"Deal," He leaned up to kiss you, like a handshake, of sorts.

If he kept this up, you wouldn't be able to last very long. You loved how he took care of you himself, and didn't leave you to figure out your own pleasure.

He clearly wanted to tick every box, make sure you noticed it, too, so that you could be grateful to him.

You were both smiling more after your little agreement.

Before you could get too lost in it, there was some low thudding just above you.

Everything stopped for a scary moment.

You instantly looked at him when you didn't understand the sound right away, for some sort of reassurance it was just the apartment settling, or a cat upstairs. His brow was still furrowed, concerned as he looked up, his eyes tracking the sound in the ceiling.

"What the hell is that?" You whispered, a little harsh, but justified.

His face fell seconds after your question was left hanging, unanswered. He looked defeated.

"My-," He sighed, grimacing as you adjusted under him, "My roommate, I... forgot he was here."

It seemed so stupid for a guy you pegged as so intelligent. The raw reaction in his eyes made it clear that fucking you right here wasn't deliberate.

Your body relaxed again. You were wholeheartedly glad it wasn't a criminal or a ghost. It made way for confusion as he started to explain that his roommate doesn't usually come out of his room at this time, but that you should both probably head upstairs anyway.

Though it pissed you off on the surface, it doubled down and validated the realization that he didn't have everything so figured out. Taking you on the counter wasn't something he sketched out and made a reality- he just wanted you that badly.

He tried to pull out, but you locked your legs around him so he couldn't move. His jaw worked, his eyes searching yours, his brows upturned. God, he looked like he'd fall apart like that.

Your chest tightened with shock and the raw, tingly pride that came with feeling special.

Your fingers laced around his neck; he didn't offer up any resistance as you pulled him in close.

Warm breath spilled across the side of his face. He couldn't help but lean into it.

"Well, don'tstop now," Egged him on; echoed in smaller, more desperate pleas the closer he fucked you to completion. When he was just beginning to think he could get any more obsessed with you.

His lids lowered at your words, his eyes rolling back in the sockets as he put the weight of his head in the nook of your collarbone.

Though he seemed to soften in the face, his thrusts got stronger. It felt like he was filling you up more and more, leaving you gasping and clawing at his wide shoulders.

"Mm-n-Ah! Fuck-!" You whined, with no regard for his roommate, while he shoved you off the edge.

Your orgasm was well-deserved- the delay, the conversation, made it that much more intense. You felt like you could actually start to trust this guy, so you let him have the best of you.

When he came, warm and sticky all over your tummy, you didn't even think about how your shirt and skirt were still half-on, meaning he had effectively ruined all the clothes you brought with you. Normally you'd be pissed off.

But you just wanted to watch him cum, too.

His little whiny noises he thought he had covered up were loud, his gasps and little curses flattering, leaving your head buzzing.

His body became heavier for a minute, now that he was tired, before he stood back up and pulled you with him.

Everything was quiet again, as you both looked to the ceiling, then at each other, and waited. No sound.

"Sorry," He mumbled, clumsy, reaching for his glasses so he could see how bad he ruined your outfit.

Now you took the time to notice the difference in how his glasses made him look; a little nerdier, a little cuter.

You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and put your forehead to his chin.

"I'll just steal some of your clothes, if that's okay with you."

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request more nsfw or sfw haikyuu or mha here: request box

[transboyswitchytales]

🥛Milk Block & Cut Strawberries 🍓

Request 🦊 : 1. reader/us refuses to nurse, and agatha gets a little irritated, but she lets it go for now. (i even made a few dialouge) "sweetheart, it's time for your milk" - ags - "but mommy i don't want to" - reader and rio is just watching this happening. i was thinking that reader/us is a little shit sometimes and because we doesn't want to nurse, agatha's mood switches and she basically snaps at everyone. let's say that we haven't nursed in like two to three days, and finally we just give in. hehe i will send in more requests, and ughhh i think you just gave me a nursing kink 💔💔 but i love you anyway. 🦊

WARNING : Nursing / Breastfeeding Kink / Mommy Kink / Daddy Kink / Daddy Rio / Mommy Aggie / BDSM 24/7 / Found Family / Coven Loves R / LGBT and Pride Talk / Jen insert in queer history / Queer Coven of Witches / Cordelia/Misty Mentioned / BDSM Contracts / Reader is a Sag/ Reader is afraid / Anxiety meds and fear of letting people in / Witch Holiday is an actual Holiday/ Upset R and Aggie / Happy Pride Month Ya'll🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

I don't know why I can't make a story one shot right now. Everything is a fucking series and I need to be locked up.

🦊 I hope you don’t hate me. I finally finished your list my friend. I hope you forgive me for taking forever. I love you, and your kinky brain. This fucking took me an eternity to think of how I wanted to do it. But I hope you like part 1.🦊 kink is safe with me friend.

You're deliberately kind

You make efforts to share your time

You're not afraid of your feelings

And you're not afraid of mine

I never knew love could be soft

I never knew love could be light

You had so much on your plate for the past three days. You were getting the last of it done, and you were convinced Agatha was about to kill Rio because of you.

You were in charge of the coven to get June 11: Full Strawberry Moon celebration ready. It meant Sagittarius, your sign, and focus on ambition, discipline, and achieving long-term goals. This was really important to you, you are a Sagittarius. Therefore it was your job. And Agatha was losing her mind. 

Let’s take it back three days before. 

Monday:

Lilia poured you tea and you bounced back and forth on your feet. Rio was reading ‘The Amityville Horror.’ She’d decided to read all of your favorite books this year, and so far she’d ready twenty six off of your list. And something about it was insanely intimate. 

Agatha was sitting in Rio’s lap half listening, but not really. She was reading over Rio’s shoulder, she’d secretly been stealing from your book stack. Though she didn’t want to admit to Rio’s good idea yet. 

Turns out dating a witch and Death was truly the most any partner had ever tried to woo you. They were both extremely dedicated in different ways to romancing you. They actually put in effort, learning you, and figuring out what brand of love worked for you. How you liked to be touched, how you like your eggs in the morning, and what things to never say in an argument. 

Rio and Agatha had been together for centuries, so when they asked you on a date you were confused. You’d been polyamorous before, as you’d shared with them, but you didn’t think they had been. 

Turns out, they hadn’t ever before you. Which was also mind-altering information. 

You were a baby witch, technically in the coven. 

You were in your late twenties, out of college, and had accidentally moved to this shitty town after the hex. You were older than Billy, you’d turned into a big sister to him in fact. But you were nowhere near as old as Agatha and you never got a straight answer on how old Rio was. 

So it had been a shock.

Their mutual attraction to you.  

You’d met the coven after their stint on The Road. You’d been recruited by Alice in a bookstore actually. You’d come for the magic, not the friendship, not the found family. None of that was something you thought possible. 

Falling in love with Agatha and Rio was not on your radar. And when they asked you out, you were sure you were being punked. 

But here you are, two years into dating them, and about two years and four months into the coven. And Jen and Lilia had decided you’d be the one to get all of the Strawberry Moon prep. 

When Lilia poured your tea and Jen told you you were practically giddy. 

“Oh maiden’s tit, please don’t jump for joy,” Jen said but she was smiling at you. 

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” You shouted, and Lilia put one hand over her bad ear, the one next to said vampire bite. 

Billy wrapped his arms around you! And you both jumped up and down, much to the coven's delight. Lilia always said having youthful witches around made the craft all the better. Seeing it through your eyes for the first time made her feel like a girl again. 

You all were in Lilia’s tiny apartment, which she was moving out of next month, thank fuck. But you agreed to meet here the last time, before you all moved her shit for her into a new place. Jen and Lilia with standing in the kitchen with you as Alice made another dinner. 

Agatha and Rio were on the uncomfortable armchair, Agatha’s legs fell over the side as she sat in Death’s lap like a cat taking an afternoon nap. 

“Wait what day is it?” Billy asked, suddenly upset. 

“June eleventh.” Alice said, and she reached into Lilia’s tiny oven and pulled out dinner she’d made.

“NO!” You and Billy both shouted, and Jen and Lilia flinched at the volume again .

“Hey! Can we use our inside voices, little witches?” Alice says in her ex cop voice and you and Billy both look sorry. 

“What do you two have going on, that none of us are doing?” Jennifer asked and you heard the jealousy in her tone. 

“Pride is the twelfth! We were going to go for two days!” Billy shouted again and Alice arched an auntie eyebrow and he shushed himself by covering his mouth. 

“What is pride?” Lilia asks turning to Jen and Alice for help but they both open their mouth and Billy responds. 

“It’s not here in town. We were going to drive to the city and get fucked up-”

Rio dropped her book against her chest but Agatha was already getting up to come talk now, suddenly very interested in the conversation. 

You hadn’t told either of your girlfriends what you were going to do yet. 

“Billy, what part of I need to talk to my girlfriends first before you bring it up at coven tonight did you not get from my text?” You state the text verbatim and glare at the young gay boy. 

“Probably the part where I open my mouth and out us, sorry.” Billy makes his signature oops face and you sigh and feel Agatha’s hand on your lower back and you turn. 

“Hi.” You whisper, and she arches an eyebrow like ‘you can do better than that, talk fast.’

“Can someone tell me what is a Pride?” Lilia tried again and Jen looked to Alice for permission to explain, but Billy once again spoke. 

“It’s a celebration of queer people, it’s a whole month thing but..like there’s parades across the world. It’s to celebrate everyone, but there’s like a huge party. There’s gonna be drag queens performing, tons of gay men dancing, lesbians probably wearin leather and strap ons on floats! Planned Parenthood will have a booth for sure! The transgender floats are always so cool. I asked Eddie, but he can’t go this year, he’s got family stuff.”

“We have a pride in New Jersey?” Alice asked now squinting at you, as if it was your job to tell her and you failed. 

 “I suppose humanity is learning some form of kindness then.” Lilia muses but sips her tea, she has the knowledge that queer people have always been, and always will be. Where Billy is just experiencing this for the first time. 

“Kinda fucked though, right?” Jen says, and you feel Agatha pulling the back of  your leather belt, ready to talk privately. 

“Aren’t you bisexual?” Billy says he doesn't get her point, and Jen looks offended at him. 

“I’m not saying that there shouldn’t be a pride teen. I’m saying that celebrating queer history is good and all, but if you have watched the news lately, we still have a fucking long way to go. And I don’t know if a bunch of floats is really appropriate. You are a teenager, you weren’t even alive for the 80’s, I was there. I went to the protests, I lost my friends.” Jen says, and she’s got a look in her eyes now, one you know well. Alice takes the oven mitt off to rub the back of Jennifer's arm and it seems to help her a little. 

“That’s why it’s so important to gather, important for Billy to experience, right?” Alice tilts her head to look at Jen now. “To celebrate who he is, you fought and paved the way, so they could be safe and celebrate together. That is a pretty good reason to have a party, yeah?”

“Jen…Do you maybe wanna go?” Billy asks and you hold your breath and Jen pretends to play coy, looking to the side. 

“We should all go.” Alice states and Lilia looks excited at the idea of half dressed people on floats. 

“A word.” Agatha says, but you don’t break away right away to her and Rio, who’s tapping her foot on the floor like an angry Dad. 

“I was at Stonewall, you know,” Jen says, and Billy’s eyes grow ten sizes. 

“NO WAY!”

“I was living in New York at the time, I had friends…we didn’t know it was going to be a riot.” Jen shrugs like she isn’t a part of history. Billy throws his arms around her, and she doesn’t hug back immediately. 

“Thanks.” Billy whispers and you swear you see Jen shed a tear but she wraps her arms around the queer teenager. 

“Of course.” She responds, and you feel Agatha tug you harder, and you are quickly swept out the door by Rio and Aggie. 

“Damn ow! What?” You say and Agatha is glaring at your tone and you bite your lip now. 

You three had engaged pretty quickly into a kink BDSM dynamic. 

And what had been a small secret quickly became your 24/7 life, and it was insanely intimate and sexy. All of it you’d talked about in length, and a contract sat at your three’s home, Rio took a knife and stabbed it into your bedroom wall. Which was insanely hot, and Agatha couldn’t even find it in her to complain about it. 

More on that later. 

“Sorry for my tone Mommy.” You whisper, and Agatha softens only an inch, but you and Rio both know it’s a huge amount.

Cars pass outside of Lilia’s store front/apartment. 

“When were you going to bring this up?” Agatha asks, and Rio folds her arms over her chest. They are a perfect picture of upset Domme’s telling their submissive ‘no.’

You try not to smile or focus on how their disciplinary stance makes you aroused.  

“Um, I needed to see if I could even take off work.”

This was another point of tension; you worked at a book store two towns over. This really upset Agatha. Who tried to tell you that you needed to quit. At first she’d told you that she and Rio had access to a huge amount of funds. You never asked how or why they did, but you knew it was true.

You’d pushed them off about this, after a month of dating you noticed Agatha’s car in your work parking lot. Then you noticed Rio sitting on a bench the next day. 

Then they started to come into the large book store. You rolled your eyes when your coworker and friend told you; ‘Those two MILFS must think that you are cute, because they won’t stop staring at you.’ 

Your co-workers quickly learned that they were your girlfriends and you’d just used the excuse of ‘they’re overly protective.’ 

You had to fence a lot of questions for their stalking attitude. But in truth, you realized Agatha and Rio didn’t like you unprotected two towns over. 

But you continued to go to work, and they continued to follow you. Eventually, you just asked if they wanted to use the same car, ya know, carpool to work. 

Eventually, Rio got bored and started to read. You’d told her she picked up a bad book, hence the book recommendations. Agatha started bringing your favorite coworker coffee when she brought you your afternoon cup. 

The owners even started to like them there. People didn’t steal as much with Rio’s angry glances. 

But Agatha never settled on you working and Rio’s eyes would lift off the book to stare at the emergency exits. You knew they were waiting for trouble. 

“You didn’t think to talk to us?” Rio says, and it sounds more hurt than you were expecting. 

“We’ve never really, I mean..Since we started dating, I haven’t really spent a lot of time away…and I thought I should bring it up only if I could even get the time off.” You shrug, and both of them look upset. 

“Leather and Strap On’s,” Agatha repeated the key terms she took away from Billy’s excitement of Pride. You threw your hands up, ok yeah. But that wasn’t really Pride. He was a teenager so that was what he saw. 

“So yes, there are those things, but that’s not all it is.”

“Getting fucked up.” Rio repeated the part that upset her too. 

“Have either of you ever been?” You tried not, and Agatha ground her jaw and Rio nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m old baby. I’ve been, I’ve been to a lot of parties. And I know this is important. But I also don’t like the idea of you getting fucked up hours away from us. It’s not the Pride part that I’m worried about.” Rio says, and Agatha turns to glare at her partner. And you haven’t seen this a lot before. Rio and Agatha banter and bicker, but when it came to rules for you, they were usually pretty similar. 

“You're not?” Agatha seethes. 

“No, I’m worried about what happens at parties. I’ll go with you, Aggie you can stay if you want.” Rio steps in relationship shit in that moment. 

“Hell no, what makes you think I’ll stay while you two go?” Agatha grinds out in irritation and Rio’s eyebrows go so far up her forehead she knows she’s fucked up now. 

“Can we do this at home, after the coven meeting, please?” You ask, and they both look at you like they want to disagree, but Agatha opens the door for you and you walk back inside. 

Jen is on Lilia’s old ass ipad ordering an outfit for pride and Lilia and Billy are talking about queer history. Alice looks happy you’ve re-joined the group. 

“Dinner is getting cold, Strawberry girl!” Alice nicknames you, and you are not happy to say that the name sticks for the next two centuries after today. 

When you get home, Rio unlocks the door, Agatha kicks off her boots and you start up the stairs to the bedroom. 

It takes about twenty-five minutes of you all going about your nightly routine for Rio to break the silence. 

You take off your jeans in the bathroom, and Rio’s got a mouth full of toothpaste she makes from herbs. Somehow she stays minty for so fucking long, so you started to steal her toothpaste, Death pretends not to notice. 

She points her toothbrush at you now after she spits into the sink. 

“You don’t keep stuff from us. That’s why Aggie and I are most upset. It’s another thing you do, that pushing us away thing.” Rio said and she goes to brush the back of her teeth.

You are taking out your earrings, which were Agatha’s earrings, and you were putting them back into her jewlery box. 

“It wasn’t malicious.” You state, and Rio shakes her head. 

“Doesn’t matter, we don’t do that.” Rio reminds you of one of the rules and you know it well. 

Agatha walks into the bathroom with her hair up on her head to wash her face. She’s already in her floral robe, as she sleeps naked, and you love this fact. Agatha demanded that when you moved in for you to sleep naked next to her, and it turned out Rio and Agatha liked access to you all the time. 

“You didn’t tell the truth.” Agatha picks up the conversation, and you know she’s got crazy good hearing. You know, because Rio had gotten you in trouble two months into your kink relationship. You’d been sitting watching the animated Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. And Rio had asked you if you found Doc Ock sexy. You didn’t know Rio had been setting you up for a punishment. So you smiled and said she was super sexy, her voice did things to your pussy. 

Agatha’s super sonic hearing meant she heard you, and Aggie was a very jealous dom. So she spent the next four hours making you plead, beg, and whimper sorry to her. As she repeated back ‘Does your animated girlfriend do this to your pussy?’ While she fucked you with abandon, and Rio smirked and watched. 

Agatha knew when you were sad because she could hear the lyrics in your AirPods. 

So, yeah, Agatha could hear everything, this didn’t freak you out anymore. 

“I didn’t not tell the truth!” You tried as Agatha bent over and splashed water on her face. Rio just wiped the toothpaste off her bottom lip with a washcloth and scoffed. You heard how petulant it sounded now. “I was going to tell you.”

“Close only counts in hand grenades and horseshoes baby girl.” Rio tells you and walks out naked and you stare at her ass as it sways away from you. 

“God that is such a fucking Dad thing to say.” You mumble and walk to your sink. Yes magic was wonderful, you had three sinks. Taking out your night time anti anxiety meds. Agatha always looked a little nervous when you took them but she wasn’t watching you as she scrubbed her face now. 

“It’s Daddy to you!” Rio corrected. 

Fuck the two of them heard everything. 

When you three were done you crawled into bed as Agatha lifted the blanket for you to take your spot in the middle of the bed. You tried to ignore your need to be a brat. 

When Agatha laid down and opened her arms for you to come over and nurse. You hesitated and she looked ready to say something. 

Backstory was important for this.

See this; was something you two had stumbled on. 

You’d made the first move, two weeks into date nights. You asked when Agatha and Rio wanted to fuck. Rio choked on her dinner, and Agatha’s face seemed to need a minute to catch up, like a loading screen. 

Rio was the first to move, she put her hand up for the waiter and she mouthed ‘check?’ You three got home at lightning speed and fucked for about two hours, two hours of incredible orgasms, when the words slipped out. 

“Fuck me Mommy.” You whimpered just as Agatha thrust her magic strap on inside you, and she stopped. You bit your lip, and Rio stopped biting your chest and raised her face to see you. 

Everything stopped.

You panicked. 

“I mean..I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry! I ruined it.” You said and you scrambled off the bed. Their minds short-circuited a second time. 

But your panic didn’t do the same, you grabbed your clothes and fucking RAN out of their house. 

You didn’t go home though; you went to Alice’s. 

You pounded on her apartment door and you must have looked like a mess because when she opened the door, you were sobbing and your dress wasn’t even all the way zipped. 

“Oh honey!” Alice exclaimed, and she grabbed you by the shoulders as you cried and fell onto her bed. Alice made you hot cocoa, and you both sat cross-legged on her bed. 

“You know, you can tell me anything right?” 

“Not this.” You mumbled and blew on the mug. Alice had offered you clothes and a hug, but you told her nothing could touch you right now. You were humiliated and overstimulated. So she didn’t touch, she just wanted you to talk. 

“Did Agatha and Rio do this? Did they hurt you, because I swear on the divine mother if they-” Alice went into protective sister action so fast, and you loved her for it. But you shook your head and cried. 

“No, they…they didn’t do anything wrong.” You say dejectedly. 

“You know, I can’t be a good protection witch, if you don’t let me protect.” Alice teased hoping you’d open up. 

“You can’t protect me from myself.” You say offhandedly. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you obviously don’t understand what a protection witch is.” She smiles and your heart melts and she reaches over to the bedside table to hand you a box of tissues and you take it. 

“We were…having sex…” You said not looking at Alice. 

“I’m not a prude, and your stories at coven meetings and our lunch dates tell me you aren’t either. So come on, don’t be shy.” Alice nudges your knee and you put your cocoa down onto her side table. 

“I called Agatha something dirty. And it’s a nickname I don’t..I didn’t mean to call her. And it was our first time having sex..and I didn’t ask…and…I don’t want her to think I’m gross for thinking it and saying it. And I’m sure the name might have some trauma for her…..” You trail off, and Alice doesn’t need you to say it, she gets it now. 

“There’s nothing wrong with consenting adults doing and saying things, you know?” Alice tries to detangle your shame. 

“I didn’t want them to know.” You look to her quilt like it has answers. 

“Right, but you like them and they fucking love you already. So what if it isn’t wrong or bad? What did they say?” 

Your fingers are wet with clammy sweat. 

“Nothing.”

“Babe, please tell me you didn’t duck tail and fucking run out of their house.”

You cringe and Alice looks genuinely worried now. 

“I couldn’t listen to them reject me!”

“Oh you are such a Sagittarius, always running, always ugh! Okay listen to me, if this was a fucking mortal sexy kink scene. And a mortal friend told you that they ran out in the middle of sex, without talking to their sex partners, the fucking… I’m guessing.. first time they had sex together? What would you say?”

Your face turned colors and Alice nodded seeing your brain click. 

“Oh shit.” You gulp. 

“Now, if all of that isn't enough. It wasn’t mortals. You ran away from Agatha Harkness and Death herself. And neither of them have been fucking open with anyone in I don’t know how many centuries. And they opened up to you, and were fucking asking Jennifer what kind of flowers you liked for dates…..And you ran tonight, as soon as the clothes came off. You didn’t even let them tell you if they liked the name or not!” Alice exclaims and you are standing up and looking around for your keys. 

“Oh yeah, and also they’re murderous and unhinged cosmic beings who are probably setting fire to a town right now. I should check the news actually. There may not be a town!” Alice turns to find her phone but you are already opening the door to Jen in her pajamas. 

“FOUND HER!” Jen yells and Rio’s big bicker boots make pounding noises as she takes the stairs three at a time to find you. 

She doesn’t wait, doesn’t ask questions she just throws her arms around you. Like she was terrified you weren’t ok. 

“Hi.” You whisper into her neck and she squeezes you tight. 

You blink and you are portaled by Death back to the bedroom. Agatha is in her signature floral robe and she’s pacing. 

When Rio let’s go of you you feel super dizzy. She catches you around the hips. 

“Easy little witch, first time portal is always a little much. Stare at the lamp.” Rio pulls your hair back and you try not to throw up. 

“You just left! You didn’t even, you didn’t even give us a chance! You just left!” Agatha shouts and you wince. 

“My love, let’s give her a minute.” Rio says seeing you turn her signature color of green. 

“You can’t just run like that! I mean, you didn’t even give me a minute! What if you had gotten hurt? We didn’t even know where you went! You just ran!”

“Aggie, sweetheart I’m going to move her to the bathroom. I think she’s gonna throw up.” Rio lifts you quickly and brings you to the bathroom and holds your hair back as you throw up. “Fuck, my littlesunflower, I’m sorry. I should have made Jen drive us back. Aggie was ready to kill the whole neighborhood. I just figured the faster I got you home the better.” Rio tells you as she rubs your back and you loose the expensive dinner they’d bought you earlier this evening. 

“Baby, breathe through your nose,” Agatha says snapping out of her upset as soon as she saw you in distress over the toilet bowl. She sat to your left on the floor, and Rio had you in her lap. The two held your hair and rubbed your back. 

Later, they made you tea and force fed you saltines as you wouldn’t look either of them in the eye. 

“I think I should go.” You whisper, realizing Alice might be right, you have a tendency to run. 

“No.” Both Rio and Agatha say at the same time. 

Rio looks at Aggie and then runs down the stairs, coming back with a paper and pen. 

“You’ve done this before?” You asked looking at the paper, knowing she wants a contract. 

“No, Agatha and I have never...we’ve never done this with anyone,” Rio says and Agatha looks down at the paper like it’s a dragon but she takes it and the pen Rio has tucked in clenched fist. 

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea then?” You tell them, and Agatha’s face turns to disbelief. 

“How could you say that?” 

“You two have worked for a long time, why me? I’m nobody.” You say and set the tea cup down and Rio and Agatha stared at you like you had three heads now. The paper had nothing on you. 

“You are so wrong, how terrible that you actually believe that,” Rio says first, and Agatha opens and closes her mouth before choosing her words. 

“You are everything.” 

You blink up at her, confused, no one had ever said those words to you. And your not sure what to do about it. 

You three made the contract that night, and Rio kissed you both and then stabbed the paper into the wall. 

And a few days later you were having an intimate, sleepy moment with Agatha after morning sex. She noticed how you loved to suck on her nipples, half asleep, half awake. It felt intensely intimate, so she tried a little magic. 

And you yelped when you tasted her milk the first time. 

“Oh my fuck! What did I do!” You tried to leap off of Agatha, but she grabbed you around the shoulders. 

“Easy! Damn you hop off me faster than Senior Scratchy, we should call you Bunny. Relax, baby, I was just curious if you would like it.” Agatha said, though her voice waivered, and you realized….Agatha was nervous. 

“You…you did it for me?” You tried but Agatha grabbed both of your hands and pulled you back to lay naked against her chest. 

“Let’s just try it, ok?” Agatha said, and you were suspicious to say the least, but you moved your mouth to her nipple slowly, waiting for Agatha to yell and push you away. Tell you you were disgusting and this was wrong. 

But Agatha sighed at the contact, and you saw her relax more than you’d ever seen before into the mattress. Her fingers played with your hair and she watched you with a dreamy look. 

It became a staple in your house. 

Rio fucking loved it. 

You ached for it. 

And Agatha couldn’t get enough. 

She was constantly taking you into private spaces to have you nurse just for twenty minutes. It didn’t matter if you were at Alice’s, a coven meeting, at work, or watching a movie. Agatha found it therapeutic, and she told you why eventually.

“I can do it for you, it relaxes me, it relaxes you. You….you need me in that moment.” Agatha didn’t meet your eyes, but you kissed her hard to tell her you did. 

You felt more connected than ever before. Rio whispered to Agatha one night as you nursed, and Death held your naked body from behind. 

“It’s like we were always missing her, this piece….it’s like she brings light and peace….and…I can’t let her go Aggie.” Rio admitted, and your eyes were closed and you were just about to drift off. 

“We won’t, not ever,” Agatha promised. 

So here we were, on Monday. 

Agatha opened her arms to you and you scrunched your nose. Which took her for a spin. 

“Not tonight, I’m sleepy.” Now that was a lie, and both Rio and Agatha’s ears pricked up at that. But you rolled onto your tummy and hid in the pillow. 

Agatha didn’t move for two whole minutes. And you felt horrible. 

But Rio pushed your body into Agatha’s. Rio didn’t like this one bit, she knew you were being a brat. But she also knew this was your and Aggie’s thing. 

So as you fell against Agatha’s naked body, you felt the two of them curl around you, and you knew they were communicating with their minds. But you just tried to sleep. 

Tuesday:

You snuck out of the house; you didn’t need to work until 2pm. So you left a note for Agatha, and grabbed your keys walking out. 

Rio was in the front yard planting something new and you reached out and grabbed her ass and she turned, never one to be snuck up on. Taking out one of her airpods, the ones she stole from you. 

“What are you listening to?”

“Death Metal.” She fibbed and you glared at her, you learned from Agatha what it looked like when Death lied. It was an endlessly interesting thing to notice. Rio didn’t lie big; she liked to lie to you to see if you could catch it. But she always fessed up. Like a long game of Poker your lady. 

“NPR?” you guessed, and Rio’s mouth twitched in entertainment. You reached into her butt pocked for your old ipod to see what she was listening to. 

“Holy shit! Lady Death! Are you listening to Disco? ABBA!” You laugh and Rio grabs your ipod back and puts it in her back pocket. 

“You keep Daddy’s secret or I’ll spank you raw.”

“Ha! Who am I gonna tell Aggie? She already knows your secrets.” You say, and Rio looks towards the house and then at you, and you think she’s about to drop some deep thing, as she tends to do. 

“You done being a brat?” She says, instead and you reach in your pocket for your keys. 

“I gotta go! I’ll pick up burritos if I get back in time!” You start walking backwards towards your car and Rio’s face morphs into a million things. 

“You don’t have to work until later, where are you going?” Rio looks like she’s ready to drop her stuff to come with you. 

“I’m going to Lilia’s to start planning the coven meeting.”

“Strawberry girl, you know you can’t hide forever!” Rio shouts, and you run back to her and she looks less anxious. You lean up to kiss her on her gorgeous lips and she hums into the kiss, liking where this is going. Her dirty hands grab your ass to pull you closer but you break the kiss and run. 

“BYE!”

“HEY! DADDY’S NOT LIKING THIS BEHAVIOR! Wh- and she’s gone.” Rio says, just as you shut your car door and blast your phone Bluetooth to the speakers. You turn the music up obnoxiously loud as she rounds the car to watch you pull out. 

You waive, and she does the sam,e though the look on her face isn’t pleased. 

You leave to go to Lilias. 

The two of you get a lot of the stuff planned, and Lilia is happy to help you. She even has lemon cake ready for you and you munch on it as she shuffles the Tarot deck. 

You’d been there for an hour, and you two had meal planned, and circle planned and now she was ready for you to ask. 

“I don’t have a question.”

“Don’t lie to Mama Calderu now, Strawberry girl.”

“Why is everyone calling me that now?” You say annoyed. 

“Because, you are a Sagittarius and the moon is a Strawberry Moon. Besides, you are so sweet it fits. You fell in love with the deity that makes things grow. You are juicy, you laugh loudly, and are always barefoot and running through the grass. You are the embodiment of joy.” Lilia beams at you, and you feel like an impostor. Like she see’s something in you, a lie. 

“I’m not that.” You say pushing the lemon cake away now. 

Lilia reaches across the table and grabs your hand in hers. 

“You are that and so much more.”

“I’m….broken.” You say, and she gives you a reassuring but sad smile. 

“No, but your way of thinking about yourself is. If you let those two love you… the way they want to. If you let this coven in, and you stop running from us. You’d find a whole new sense of belonging, kiddo.”

She tells you, and you don’t mean to cry.

“Old habits.” You try as an apology.

“We all know, but you are the future of this coven. You already saved Agatha Harkness.”

You shake your head ‘no’ but Lilia nods her head and her curls bounce with her head. 

“You are going to argue with the divination witch about the future? That’s rich, you been hanging out with Agatha too much!” She cackles, and you laugh too. Knowing Lilia adores Agatha now, and that they even enjoy each others company. 

“I don’t know if..I don’t know how to let them in.” You admit, and Lilia tilts her head towards the cards.

“You got Death and Agatha Harkness to bend to your every whim. They love you more than anything. If you can do that, you can do anything. Now, are you ready to ask?”

You nod and Lilia releases your hands and picks up the deck.

You leave and go to the nearest metaphysical shop. 

You scratch the back of your neck as you stare at the candle section. 

An older witch walks over to you, you read her quickly and know she’s a tough witch. Her blonde hair and meek stance means jack-shit. 

“Can I help you find something?”

“Um…” you say a little skittish and you look over your shoulder.

“Relax, I know who you belong to.” The blonde smiles and you wonder if she means coven or….girlfriends? 

“Oh?” Now you wonder if you are in grave danger.

“My wife and I mean you no harm. You are welcome here anytime. The witch community is talking a lot about you.”

“I think you have me confused.” You put back a candle and the witch doesn’t stop you but she doesn’t drop it either.

“I don’t, you are Harkness’s Strawberry.” She smiles affectionately and you pale.

“Is that what I am?” You feel the need to run. 

“Are you getting ready for the full moon? Alice called me and let me know you’d be coming by.” 

Your shoulders relax when she says Alice and she smiles more now at your obvious ease.

“You scared me.” You grab your stomach and look around to see if anyone else saw you.

“I’m sorry Strawberry girl. I didn’t mean to. I’m Cordelia, my wife Misty over there is dying to meet you.” Cordelia points to the corner where a woman who looks like Stevie Nicks is staring at you and almost vibrating with excitement. 

“Me?”

“You are something of a legend now.”

“Really? What do they say?”

“Mostly that you are Harkness's Wife. But also that you are the bringer of sunshine. I guess you have a sort of warmth an aura that makes witches happy. I see it now.” Cordelia shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

“Sorry can you back up, did you say wife?”

“Some who know of her, say you tame and stop Death herself. That you have her eating out of the palm of your hand.” Cordelia leans forward, and you lean back in horror. 

“Don’t worry! You are safe here, no judgment at all. Alice was right, you are a skiddish thing. I have your order in the back. But Misty can help if you are looking for something else. Let me go grab it, don’t run, ok?” Cordelia says and you are in shock.

You’d later tell Alice she was an asshole for waiting to introduce you to Misty and Cordelia. You’d later ask them to be there at your wedding, but not today. Today Misty’s energy and Cordelia’s knowing looks freaked you out.

After the longest five hour shift you’d ever had your boss looked glad that you were going home. You usually brought an ease to the book store, but today you were anxious and snapping at others. 

So when you clocked out you didn’t linger and bring home a new novel. You got the fuck out of there. 

You got home and slammed the car door. You used your key to get in, and as you walked in, you were greeted by Agatha shouting at Jen and Billy.

Jen was standing in front of the teenager who was looking embarrassed; you didn’t need to ask to figure it out. 

“THAT IS NOT RIGHT!” Agatha pointed to a frog on your coffee table and Jen had her hands out. Ready to defend the poor teenager.  

But they stopped to look at you.

“Tell your girlfriend she owes me big time!” You yell at Jen, and her mouth drops.

“You have a girlfriend?” Billy’s attention span is that of a small rodent, and he forgets Agatha yelling at him.

“Why are you yelling at me now? Your fucking wife is yelling at me and now you!” Jen snaps back louder than before. 

“Why is everyone saying that!” You yell at Jen and don’t look at Agatha’s face. But you throw Billy the keys to your car. “Shit is in the trunk!” You stomp up the steps.

But Jen calls out to you.

“WE ARENT EVEN DATING! Whatever-One Harkness screaming is enough!” 

But you slam the bedroom door and go into the bathroom to shower. You crank the radio up super loud and try to calm down. 

When you dress and emerge back downstairs, Alice has come and she’s setting up the backyard.

“Do we need to talk?” Alice asks, and you are fuming.

“No, go talk to your shop friends about my stupid strawberry girl rumors. Leave me alone.” You seethe and Alice has never experienced you mad at her before. And she’s not sure what to do.

Rio walks in with a popsicle.

“Give her a minute.” She instructs, and Alice walks away with her head hung low.

“You two are really on a roll.” Rio muses and you open the fridge and start pulling out ingredients for prepping tomorrows meals.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“I’m not that easy to get rid of.” Rio challenges and you slam the fridge door and start to cook.

Rio sits on the far edge of the kitchen counter, she’s out of your way, but she’s near.

As people walk into the house to talk to you, she tells them you are busy. And you try to be calm, but you are losing it.

It sounds like Agatha is as well, as she and Jen continue to snap. Agatha has a very short fuse, and she’s not listening to anyone.

“Full moon agitation?” Jen whispers in question to Lilia who doesn’t help, but plays dumb. 

You make all the yeast dough, prepping it for tomorrow. You create the citrus sweet tea, you bake the cute muffins, and then you get to tonight’s dinner. 

You haven’t spoken in three hours.

Rio eventually hops of the kitchen counter and she helps you make the big dinner, knowing you won’t attack her now. 

You two cook in silence, and when you finish, you go outside to the coven who has started the fire pit.

Agatha is not here. 

Alice walks to you first with a bottle of tequila in hand.

“I come in peace, I bring booze. I love you more than words, please don’t shut me out. Don’t run from me. I swear the whole state knows about you, I don’t spill your secrets. Don’t be mad?” She begs, and you eye her and take the bottle and chug and Jen and Lilia clap in happiness. 

You smile mournfully at Alice and she doesn’t need more form you. She takes the jug back and you sit next to Billy in the grass by the fire.

Dinner is a tense affair though.

Agatha is fuming and not speaking. She’s not drinking, she’s not really eating or speaking, she’s just angry. Rio looks between you two like she’s unsure of how to handle this. 

You finish dinner and the talk of a movie rings out.

“No.” Agatha says and it cuts the chatter.

“My love?” Rio asks, though something is clear she knows this won’t go well.

“You don’t wanna watch a queer movie or that movie?” Alice corrected as they walk into the living room to sit.

“No, tomorrow is circle. Tonight, get out.” Agatha says and you can’t believe she said that. But you also really can?

“What?” Jennifer is confused but Lilia grabs her keys.

“Let’s go! Come on a good night sleep will help us all for the parties tomorrow!” Lilia pushes the coven out the door and nods to Rio in condolences. 

Agatha is staring at you like she’s about to take a bite out of her strawberry girl.

🍓

But I know that it's worth it because

When I tasted strawberry Mentos, I knew you were the one

I knew you were the one

Poor Rio...She too must wait for part 2.....

Happy 🍓Strawberry Moon 🌕 , Everyone!

AO3

MasterList

[melodyofmbaku]

Signed in Crayon, Sealed in Cash (Smoke Moore x Annie x Stack Moore)

Preview: "Ain’t nothing to stress about mama. We done did this before.” he said while zipping up the back of her dress. 

Warning ⚠️: They're a Trio Word Count: 1.6k A/N Something less heavy but hopefully no less enjoyable. I really appreciate your comments/reblogs, it's what keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think! 😘 My Masterlist ___

The Moore’s had a problem. She was about 3 ft. tall and 5 years old. And a perfect combination of their unit. 

They really didn’t know what they were expecting. With their personalities it was no surprise that Ari turned out the way that she did. 

Smart, fearless, and most of all spoiled. 

That’s how the three found themselves in their bedroom discussing just how they got here.  

“You be telling her stuff Annie. Playing both sides against each other when it suits you.” Stack accused. He was looking at her through the mirror as he did up his shirt. 

Annie shrugged and admitted while lotioning her legs as she sat on the stool of her vanity.

“Just evening the playing field. It’s been ya’ll vs. me for so long. Lord saw it fit I get some backup. Ain’t a crime.” She huffed. 

“It’d be easier if your brother didn’t train her to be a master negotiator.” She looked at Smoke pointedly. 

The man sat on the bed and struggled to do up his cufflinks. He liked when Ari was able to make a good case. Prepositions and negotiations. He was setting her up for her future. 

Ari believed everything could be discussed. That made things particularly difficult when her parents wanted her to do simple things like eat her breakfast or take a bath. 

He shrugged. “That ain’t a bad thing. She’s our firstborn, she gon’ have responsibilities one day.” 

Still fiddling with the link he continued.

“It’s Stack’s “Whatever Ari wants Ari gets” mindset that’s the issue.” he said. 

“Oh I’m wrong?” The younger twin responded. 

“You want our baby to be out there — wanting? When she got not 1 but 2 able bodied daddies and a mama to boot? The hell she will.”

“Ari gets what Ari wants. And that’s law.” The man huffed before stalking over to do up his brother’s cufflinks. 

“Well that law is why we gotta put on this big ol’ party. Mind you— it’s for the dang dog.” Annie deadpanned. 

“You love that dog.” Stack replied over his shoulder... “It’s your dog!” 

“Not the point.” She replied singsongingly. 

But it was true — Ari had them getting all dressed up to throw a birthday party for their rottweiler — Peony — named after Annie's favourite flower.  She had had them invite the neighbors and everything. 

It was a sight to see Smoke standing uncomfortably at their neighbours door inviting them over for a party over the weekend. He thought about bailing but when he looked down at the small hand that held his on those doorsteps — how could he not do everything she wanted? 

At first the trio thought she'd forget about it. Let things die down, she was a kid. How hard would it be? But not their Ari, she was steady counting down the days. 

Smoke recalled knocking on her bedroom door earlier in the week to get her up and downstairs for breakfast. Annie had sent him up and little did he know he’d come down with a tot and a task.

He had barely got her into the kitchen before the girl started her campaign.

“It’s bout’ 4 days for Peony’s party, daddy. I’m gon’ need a new dress.” She said while scooting into her chair at the table.

Smoke grimaced. Earlier that week Annie had whispered sweet things into his ear and looked at him with them eyes and he found himself signing a cheque to add a plethora of new crystals to her collection — it was witchcraft if you asked him.  

Ari wasn’t big on things like that but she was big on looking pretty. If he’d have to blame anyone for that it’d be Stack - she def got that from him.

Annie—still tugging her robe belt into a hurried knot—arched a brow. Ten seconds earlier she’d been pinned between Stack and the corner cabinets, with hands greedily exploring her body and lips full of flour-dusted promises. The moment little footsteps hit the stairs, Stack sprang back, palms in the air like a boy caught in the pantry.

Now he leaned against the counter, trying for nonchalance.

“Thought Peony was happy just turnin’ six with extra gravy,” Annie said, smoothing her collar.

“Peony’s a lady, Mama. Mr. Whitlock’s taking a picture, and I gotta look fancy standing next to her.”

Stack stifled a grin and leaned on the counter. “Girl’s got priorities. Told Whitlock I’d give ’im fifty cents to set up the backdrop.”

Smoke crouched to put slippers on her feet, hiding the faint tremor in his wrist. “Pictures cost money. I best hear a counter-offer, Miss Moore.”

Ari pulled a folded paper from her dress pocket —crayoned swirls titled Daddy & Me. She slid it into his hands like a lawyer presenting evidence.

Stack gave a low whistle. Annie’s mouth twitched.

Smoke shot them a look.

He felt his chest thud a slow, traitorous beat. She knew how to pull on his heart strings. He smoothed the paper. “Fine draftsmanship,” he murmured. “But a good proposition needs terms.”

She lifted 3 little fingers.

“I’ll take my bath every night ’til the party— with no sassin’.”

“Well praise be.” Annie muttered. 

“I’ll eat all my breakfast, even when there ain’t peaches.” She looked at Stack pointedly. 

The girl was obsessed with peaches. She’d have em’ on the side of every breakfast if she could. On days she couldn't, she rarely cleared her plate.

Stack scoffed. He had a tendency to fuss when she didn’t eat enough, it looked like she knew exactly what it’d do to him. 

“Mama gets a dress too, ’cause she works hardest.” Her third and final term. 

Annie grinned. ““That’s my girl.”

Peony’s tail thumped beneath the table as if seconding the motion.

The man looked from Ari’s earnest face to Annie’s surprised smile, then back. He blew out a breath. How could he say no to his girls?

“Reckon that’s a respectable bargain,” he said, tapping the paper once. “But keep every promise, else that dress stays at the shop. Your mama will take you on Friday.”

Ari grinned wide before rewarding him with a smooch on his cheek. “Yes, sir!” She grabbed her piece of toast and scurried back up to her bedroom. No doubt to scheme and celebrate some more.

Stack muttered, “Dog’s birthday gonna bankrupt us,” but the pride in his voice gave him away.

Peony barked once—deal sealed and Mr. Whitlock’s fifty cents practically spent.

The girl had won. Again.

Smoke glanced at Annie— lips kiss bruised, robe belt in a crooked knot—and at Stack, who tried to look serious while hiding a proud grin. For half a second Smoke thought we’re raising a tiny Stack in ribbons and lace. The idea was terrifying.

Smoke shook his head before he tucked the drawing into his pocket, half-amused, half-resigned. Four days, he’d thought. Girl’s gonna hold us to every word.

Four dawns later, the house hummed with party nerves as they continued to get dressed.

Back in the master bedroom Smoke buttoned a starched collar, Stack tugged suspenders into place, and Annie—in a half-fastened dress—did up the clasp of her bracelet while side-eyeing the men.

Stack continued on.  “Never seen a dog rack up so many charges.”

Annie scoffed. “Dog didn’t do it—your daughter did.” She smoothed her bodice, thinking how Ari had spent the last three evenings taking her baths without sass and gulping every crumb of breakfast down without peaches.

“I’ll fry up the catfish around 6. That time everyone would had come round’ — Sun would be lower. ” she said to herself, almost a reminder. 

Stack looked up from his brothers cufflinks before crossing over to his wife. He took her hand and pulled her up from her vanity to assess her, brushing some lint off her dress.

He wasn't ignorant to the fact that Annie wanted the party to be perfect for her baby, regardless of the occasion.

“Ain’t nothing to stress about mama. We done did this before.” he said while zipping up the back of her dress. 

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “You a good mother. She loves you so much. We talk bout’ spoiling her, but we’d have it no other way. Just a couple hours now.”

She took a breath, and looked up at her man before responding, softer. “After the party, she’ll be asleep in five minutes.”

Smoke confirmed from across the room. “Whole house will.”

Stack stopped them. “Nah, then it’s grown-folk time.” Smiling wickedly. 

Smoke’s mouth curved— “Let’s get through the day before we talk grown-folk plans.”

Stack snagged the tin of pomade, Smoke pocketed the bow for Ari's hair, and Annie gathered her skirt. Together—three parents in harmony—they headed down to the yard, ready to celebrate the most elaborate Rottweiler birthday rural Mississippi had ever seen.

It wasn’t long before the party was in full swing. The backyard bloomed with bustle: neighbors laughing over lemonade jars, kids darting after bubbles, and Mr. Whitlock adjusting his big box camera beside the barn wall.

Peony—ribbon tied, coat brushed—sat on a low crate like a queen in waiting. Ari, face bright with excitement, raced over the grass toward her parents.

“Picture time!” she squealed, tugging Annie’s hand first, then Smoke’s sleeve, then Stack’s trouser leg for good measure.

Annie knelt, smoothing Ari’s dress. “Where you want us, Sugar?”

Ari pointed—one finger left, one right—no words needed. Smoke took his place to Peony’s left; Stack claimed the right. Annie settled between the dog and her daughter, fitting just so.

Whitlock ducked under the dark cloth, shouted, “Hold still… three… two—”

Click.

For a second, everything held: Ari’s proud grin, Peony’s patient pant, Annie’s soft exhale, the boys steady hands resting atop Annie’s back.

The moment printed itself on more than just film.

The party rolled on—getting funner as the night progressed, children chasing chickens, Peony gnawing a birthday bone bigger than her head. The trio moved through it together—not flawless, but whole—while Mr. Whitlock’s camera cooled in the shade, holding proof that love, once negotiated, can still develop clear.

__

A/N Thought I'd give ya'll some sugar after what I put you though in Touch of a Woman 🤭 For those curious about how we got here... you'd enjoy Late, but Loved.

I am still working on the fic with Annie soft-domming Smoke. This has been one of the most challenging works I've written. I've got to get the dynamic just right. But it will come!

Always eager to hear your thoughts and encouragement it keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think 🥰

____

My other works can be found in My Masterlist. Thanks for reading!

___

All Fic Taglist - Interested in my future works? Let me know if you'd like me to add you to my tag list. @chaneajoyyy @pyraomen @browngirldominion @sarcastic-sunshines @rolemodelshit @bbymuthaaa @boonoonoonus @joysofmyworld @twistedsistas-stuff @blackctrl

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[sunday-bug]

May I request Steve Kemp and vampire reader, please? Thank you in advance!

So Take a Bite

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Vampire!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Content: BLOOD, feeding from live humans, p in v sex, mentions of cannibalism & murder, Steve being manipulative & charming to get his way (ya'll have seen Fresh, he's a bad, delicious guy)

Synopsis: Steve supplies exactly what you crave... but what if he's offering you more?

A/N: I’ve never written anything like this so don't judge too harshly lol although I’d love constructive feedback - also thank you for this prompt because it made me write outside of my comfort zone and I had a TON of fun with it - thank you for your patience anon - I know this has been in my inbox for months ❤️ also thank you to @navybrat817 for reminding me that Steve can steal blood from the hospital because he’s a doctor (I have no common sense sometimes) also I listened to The Offering by Sleep Token A LOT while writing this lmao ok I’m done yapping

“I’m almost out, Kemp. I’m serious. Don’t fuck around with me. I can expose your sick ass in a second.”

Steve scoffs, “My sick ass? You’re the one that can’t survive without what I provide you. You need me. Just admit it, sweetheart.”

Steve hears you grumble over the phone and smiles, pleased with himself. There’s a market for everything - human meat & blood are his niche. And he’s damn good at both of them. Some people are just impatient and ungrateful. He waits for you to say something - he isn’t going to break first.

“Fine. Meet me tonight. I’ll pay you an expedience fee,” you say firmly.

“Double. You’ll pay me double. I’ll make sure it’s fresh, and you can have it tonight.”

He hears your breath intake on the other line before you answer, “Deal.” You hang up before he can.

-

Steve takes his scrub cap off and throws it in the laundry bin of the surgeon's locker room. Another day of routine procedures - a couple breast implants, a skin graft, a rhinoplasty, and a face lift to end the day. He walks to his locker and changes from his scrubs into his street clothes. 

“You done for the day, Kemp?” A familiar voice asks.

Steve looks up to see Dr. Lowndes striding towards him.

“Yeah, all done,” he says politely, grabbing his bag and walking toward the door. “Just going up to see my Nana. She was admitted last night for chest pain.”

“Oh, is she in the ICU? They look swamped today.”

“Uh, yeah, ICU. But she’s going to be fine,” Steve lies. Lies about the whole thing. His Nana has been dead for a decade.

“I hope so. Have a good afternoon,” Lowndes says.

“Sure thing. You too,” Steve waves and darts out of the locker room like a man on a mission. He takes the stairs to the fourth floor and surveys who the nurses on duty are - Mandi, Alexis, Torriana, ah… there she is, Brynn.

“Hi ladies,” Steve says with a smile as he sidles up to the nurses station. He catches Brynn’s eye slyly and smirks. “Heard you guys are busy today.”

“Yes, very,” Alexis says, not looking up from the medical chart on her computer. She’s always a bit prickly with him.

“I, uh, think my Nana was admitted last night… Brynn. Can you help me out with that?”

“Of course, Dr. Kemp,” she says professionally.

“Walk with me,” Steve instructs, maneuvering her away from the desk. So ductile, so meek, such a good listener. She follows him with fervor.

“How many units do you need?” She asks quietly as they round the corner, getting straight to business.

“How many do you have?” Steve asks, entering an empty patient room and shutting the door behind them both.

“Dr. Kemp, I-,” she starts.

“I need 12-15. Tonight. Now, actually.” 

“Okay, I don’t know if I can get them now,” she sighs, biting her bottom lip nervously.

“You know, you look really pretty today. Are these new?” Steve reaches up gently to look at her earrings. She closes her eyes and leans her cheek into his palm. “Are they from your fiancé?” He growls, tugging on one gently. Her eyes snap open and she pulls her face away from his hand.

“Yes, they are.” She looks at him with desperate eyes. “Pull your car around to the trauma bay. I’ll bring them out in a styrofoam cooler. And Steve?”

“Yeah?” He asks, hand on the door knob.

“I’d leave him for you if you asked,” she whispers, tugging on the earring he’d just touched.

“I know you would, sweetheart. We’ll talk about it later, okay?” He gives her a gentle smile before turning around and heading down to his car. The secret is to keep her hopes up - give her just enough to make her bend to his will. She’s a pretty girl, but too young and naive. He’d love to take her home and sell her for parts, but that damn fiancé fucks up that plan. Besides, he has her right where he wants her. And if she quits, he’ll charm another to do his bidding.

He pulls his sleek car around and sees her standing there waiting, cooler full of liquid cash. He pops the trunk and watches her set it inside. She walks around to the driver’s side and he cracks his window.

“Text me?” She asks sweetly, eyes full of hope.

“Sure thing,” he replies with a wink before taking off, knowing he doesn't even have her number saved.

-

Steve pulls out his phone as he parks in his driveway and sends you a text: It’s fresh. My place. 7pm.

You respond with a thumbs up emoji and count your cash out on your bed again, making sure you have enough to cover his exorbitant fee. You huff in frustration and thirst, but damn it’s worth it. Steve is the only one that provides exactly what you need - fresh human blood. 

You’re going to be late on your rent payment again now because of this beautiful asshole, but what else can you do? Starve to death? Not an option. You put your money in your bra and get in your car to drive to his place. Motherfucker just has to live 20 miles outside of town. That’s gas money now too.

You pull up to his house into his weird fancy driveway that looks like Swiss cheese and park your beater next to his stupid sports car. Fucking Kemp. Such an asshole. You shoot him a quick text that you’re here and wait for him to come outside. Your phone buzzes and you look down to see that he’s texted you back: Come in. Door’s unlocked. You swallow, never having been inside Steve’s place. This whole exchange usually took less than five minutes before you were satiated and on your way. You knock on his front door and hear rustling on the other side before he opens and invites you in. 

“What’s with the change of protocol?” You ask warily, looking around the entryway.

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. “I thought we could have dinner. We always rush the interchange. I figure it’d be nice to have a meal together.”

You shudder at the thought. “If you think I’m going to eat anything you’ve cooked, you’re out of your damn mind, Kemp.”

He utters your name, “It’s vegetable risotto. Now come in.”

You walk into Steve’s home and let him shut the front door behind you. It’s nice - retro, but the kind of retro where everything looks incredibly curated and expensive. 

“Wine?” He asks, plating your food.

“Sure, thank you,” you reply, walking around his dining area and checking out all of his artwork. “Actually, can I just have some of my supply? I shouldn’t drink alcohol when my tank is nearly empty.”

Steve laughs lightly at your word choice and nods. “Sure, pay me now. I’ll even load the cooler in your car because I’m such a nice guy.”

You roll your eyes and sigh, taking the cash out of your bra and handing it over to him. 

“Classy,” he notes sarcastically, taking the money from your hands. “Sit.” You watch him retrieve the cooler from the refrigerator and take a unit out. “You, uh, just straight from the bag or would you like a glass?” He asks.

You can’t help but laugh. “A glass would be nice.” He takes one from the cupboard and gestures for you to do the rest. You prepare your “drink”.

“Gimme your keys. I’ll run this out to your car,” he says nonchalantly. You toss him your car keys and he walks out the front door to stash your goods in your trunk. You lift the lid of the pan on the stove and inspect it closely. It looks and smells normal, but you’re still rightfully skeptical. Steve saunters back in at that moment, and you drop the lid loudly onto the pan.

“Vegetable. Risotto. I promise,” he reminds you sternly. “I don’t surprise anyone with my acquired tastes. Truthfully, I don’t have many dinner guests. But I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, but this is helping immensely,” you assure him, holding up your half empty glass. His eyes flit from the glass to yours and you shrug. “You think it’s weird," you say.

“I’m not one to judge,” he sighs, pulling a dining chair out for you. “Sit.”

You sit in the plush chair and watch him bring a plate to you. The food is still steaming. He puts his plate down and sits at the head of the table next to you. He takes a bite and smiles. “I’m a great cook. I’ll brag about that.” 

You smile and take a bite. Damn. He is a great cook. You both sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying the first bites of your meal. You finish your drink, feeling the vitality course through your cold veins once more. Steve watches you finish off your glass and take a bite of the risotto.

“Feeling better?” He muses, looking at your eyes closely. “You look… revitalized.”

“I feel it.” You say with a grin. “There’s nothing like the feeling right after… drinking.”

“I think I know what you mean,” he says. “Like you’re high on life?” 

“Yes, exactly,” you agree, leaning in closer over your plate.

Steve smiles and looks down. “You know, we have more in common than you think we do, sweetheart. You say I’m sick for how I choose to live, but how are you any different, really?” 

You consider his question carefully. “I don’t hurt people. That’s the difference, Steve. Isn’t that obvious?”

He nods before smiling darkly at you. “You’ve never had it from the tap? Never tasted it hot from the source?”

You swallow against your better judgement, your body betraying your mind. “N-no… and I never will.” 

“Who are you trying to convince? Yourself or me?” He stands up and grabs your barely finished plate from you before setting it on the kitchen island. “Come with me.” 

You reluctantly follow him and he offers his hand. You hesitate, not sure what his plan is. “I want to show you something.” Charismatic fucker. You take his hand - warm, big, inviting - and he leads you to a large wooden door. 

“Steve, I actually think I should go,” you say quickly, wishing it had come out more composed. You don't want him to know that you are slightly panicked.

“You’re free to leave at any time,” he assures you softly before bringing a hand up to push your hair behind your ear. “I just wanted to enjoy dinner with a beautiful woman. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no, you didn’t,” you assure him, shocked by his words. He thought you were beautiful? Steve Kemp thought you were beautiful? “Lead the way," you offer unsteadily now.

He smiles and rubs his thumb against the back of your hand as he unlocks the oversized door. You walk down a curved stone staircase into a cool, dimly lit, and extremely clean basement with a hallway of doors. “This is my favorite part of the house,” he whispers, peering down the hall. 

“Why’s that?” You ask sweetly, still reeling from his earlier admission.

“It’s where I can be myself,” he answers matter-of-factly. His eyes meet yours and they crinkle at the corners as he smiles darkly. “I want to share it with you because you understand the lengths we go to to satiate ourselves. To satisfy our hunger. To indulge our tastes. To meet our needs. You know what’s necessary. Plus, I know you think about me, sweetheart,” he says the last part into your hair and a shiver runs down your spine. “Just like I think about you.” 

Your knees nearly buckle at his confession. “I do… think about you,” you admit.

“I know you do,” he whispers. “I want to take care of you. Let me show you something special I’ve been saving for you.”

“For me?” You ask incredulously, following him down the hall. He unlocks a door and slides it open slowly, blocking the view inside with his body.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t freak out,” he warns you calmly. 

“Uh, okay,” you agree hesitantly. Steve steps aside to reveal a small room with a floor bed, toilet, large mural of the beach, and… wait… a woman stands up slowly, eyes wide with fear. Her mouth is muzzled like a dog. She cowers into the corner. 

“This is Noa,” Steve informs you emotionlessly. “She’s been a bit… disobedient lately.” He walks over to her and reaches into his jeans, revealing a pocket knife. The blade gleams in the light. “Come here,” he instructs you calmly. 

“Noa, stay still,” he says gruffly, looking at her with an irritated expression. “This is my friend,” he says your name and introduces you to her. He slyly takes a syringe from his other pocket and injects it into Noa’s neck as she’s looking at you pleadingly. Her eyes flutter closed and her body slumps into Steve’s arms. “Good girl,” he whispers, lowering her onto the floor. “I’m eliminating her next week to fill an order and thought you’d like to taste the elixir of life from the source.” He says everything so calmly, like this whole evening is routine and not completely fucked.

He assesses your gaze, rubbing your arm gently in an attempt to calm you. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in. But it’s just business, just like how I supply what you need. People pay for this. I supply it to them. I just knocked her out for a bit. She’ll wake up in a few hours. Aren’t you curious? Just a taste.”

You lick your lips involuntarily at just the thought of sinking your teeth into her soft exposed neck. Your gums ache, even though you’d just had a drink upstairs. “Steve… I-I don’t know if I can. She’s a human being. You’re taking her life from her. This is kind of crazy. I mean, you’re a murderer.”

“It’s only crazy if you say so, just like anything else in this world. Look at me,” he says gently, cupping your chin in his hand and aligning your gazes. “Let me take care of you. I can provide you exactly what you need. Fresh. From the source. Whenever you want it. I just… I want you. We would make a delicious team.” Your eyes close at his offer and your dark instincts take over. Energy thrums through your body from your chest to the aching sweet spot between your legs. You open your eyes to see Steve smiling at you, knife raised to Noa’s neck. He makes a small slit and blood seeps through the gash. Your nostrils flare as your senses are filled with her scent - dark, heady, fucking exquisite. You don’t think before your mouth is on her neck and you’re drinking right from her. Your entire body feels like it’s floating. Nothing has ever tasted so perfect. 

“There you go,” you hear Steve say next to you. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever had before, isn’t it?” His eyes are lit from within watching you feed on Noa. “You look so perfect like this. You’re fucked up just like me, pretty girl.” 

You pull back and lick your lips, the hot, sticky liquid stubbornly dripping down your chin, and look at Steve. His eyelids are heavy with lust, pupils blown wide. He inches toward you, his eyes moving from yours to your blood-covered lips. His mouth parts slowly, and that’s all the invitation you need. You crash your mouth into his and he hisses, smiling into the kiss. You’re both on your knees, hands everywhere on each other, grasping at fabric, skin, and hair. You break apart from him suddenly and search his face, his mouth now covered in Noa’s blood.

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask suddenly, the heat between your legs growing hotter and more violent by the second.

“I could ask you the same question,” he breathes out, reaching for you. “This is getting you wet - all of this. The blood, the basement, fuck, you’re worse than me.”

You crack a smile, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “How’d you know?”

“Demented recognizes demented, darling,” he sighs, clutching you to his chest.

“Take me to bed, Steve,” you demand, leaning down slowly to nip at his neck. He lets out the smallest gasp and picks you up, wraps his arms around you, and carries you out of Noa’s room and upstairs to his. He lays you down on the bed and unbuttons his shirt, revealing a sculpted chest. You shudder at the sight of him. You’ve always thought he’s beautiful, but now you know for certain that he is. He climbs onto the bed and lies next to you, maneuvering your body so you’re straddling him. You lean down to kiss him and lick the leftover blood from his mouth. His eyes darken even more.

“Bite me,” he requests.

"I want to," you whine.

"So take a bite," he says again.

You shift in his lap excitedly before leaning down to kiss his neck, teasing him a bit. You feel your canines extend in pleasure and run your teeth over his flesh gently, getting him used to the feeling. Goosebumps prick up all over his body in response and you hum. His hands find your hips and press you into him so you can feel his growing arousal. You moan at the thought of him being turned on by you.

“Ride me while you feed on me,” he demands, running his hands up your back against your bare skin. Your resolve snaps again, and you remove your clothes quickly, tossing them around the room. He bucks his hips to remove his pants. You’re both naked and writhing with pain for the other. You slide onto him and indulge in the sensation of being filled to the hilt. Your hips start rocking on him as he pulls you down to his face and kisses you softly. “Feed,” he begs. 

You smile at him, flashing your pointed canines and watching his eyes gleam with a mixture of arousal and fear, like he’s met his match. You find the hollow of his neck and sink your teeth in. His blood is a masterpiece - full of punch, energy, youth, and vitality. You thought Noa tasted incredible, but she has nothing on Steve. He moans beneath you,  and you know you’re on the edge of losing it. 

“My frenzied baby,” he whimpers, holding your head in his hands as you break free from your feed. “So precious.” His gentle praise makes you come as you toss your head back, riding it out on him. 

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart,” he encourages, gripping your hips with certainty as he loses himself in you, moaning your name in satisfaction. You lie down beside him, tracing the two small puncture wounds in his neck and smiling. Finally, someone that wanted you for you - all of you.

“Stay the night,” he offers, pulling you close to him. “I’ll even let you take your pick for breakfast in the morning.”

You grin at the thought of drinking from the source again. “Sounds like Heaven.”

“Even though we’re going to Hell,” he whispers, nuzzling into you. 

Taglist: @ruexj283 @buckybarnes82 @buckybarnesslutshop

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Mafia!Nanami that spoil's the absolute shit out of you, you need to be careful what you mention to the man since it will turn up at the house within a few hours / the next day.

"Nanami! You didn't have to get me this car!" You titled your head to the side, eyes glued to the baby pink Rolls Royce.

The man nearly scoffed as he placed his hand on your hip. His thumb gently messaging you, his eyes were so full of love when he looked down at you. "Non sense...whatever my Princess want's, my princess get."

Bitting your lip you then smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I want you."

Chuckling, Nanami easily lifted you. Your legs wrapping around his hips. "As you wish."

Mafia!Nanami, would rent out an entire theater just to see you smile. You're priceless to him, he has your laugh, everything about you burned into his memory.

Mafia!Nanami, never brings work home. He will never mention his jobs, what his has done or who he has killed to you. He know's you're fine with what he does, he knows that he only targets scum. He still hates the fact that he comes home to you after what he had done.

Mafia!Nanami, that travels all over the world for you. Tropical area's are his favorite to go, nothing beats laying in the sun with his beautiful wife. It's why he has his own private island. But if you so choose to pick a place with a colder climate then he would go for you, besides he can always warm you up in the best way possible.

Mafia!Nanami, will not hesitate to fuck you in front of one of his clients if he finds out said client won't leave you alone. He need's to show them that you are his and his alone. If they keep it up then they'll cease to exist.

Mafia!Nanami, love's it when you cock warm him.He'll let you do it anytime you please.

If he is in a meeting? Of course, nothing feel's better then being buried deep within your pussy while his men explain to him whats going on in his neck of the woods.

On the phone with a friend? Say no more! Dealing with Gojo's teasing is worth seeing the expressions on your cute little face.

While he is alone in his office working? Even better, he loves the company, loves it more when you fall asleep because he fucked you so much.

Mafia!Nanami hates leaving you alone, he hates being separated from you. So often times you are with him but if it's too dangerous he keeps you home. He needs to make sure you are alway's safe, he's very protective of you.

Mafia!Nanami that teaches you self defense and how to use weapons. Will buy you some guard dogs to go the extra mile just to keep you safe.

A/n: If ya'll want more, let me know.

[baby-yongbok]

Call me, baby

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre - Smut, slow(ish) and then boom porn - Strangers to lovers (non-idol)

♡ Word Count: 7.6k

♡ Summary: Welcome to Rockstar tattoo and piercing, where giving a beautiful stranger and eyebrow piercing can lead to the best fuck of your life.

♡ A/N: I started this as soon as photo's of Hyunjin with that damned eyebrow piercing came out. I am EXHAUSTED the horny took over, I'm ruined and now maybe you are too. 😭 I wanted to have this be a bit of a slow burn type of thing just so there could be some build up and longing ya know? I don't usually draw things out this long but I wanted to give it a shot. 💕Please enjoy it, I worked hard and I'd love to hear feedback. I also only lightly edited it for right now, I'll look over it again later! Gosh I'm exhausted. + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

♡ Warnings: Pain slut Hyunjin, Descriptive piercing process, Biting, Hair pulling, Appearances by Lee Know, unprotected sex (safe sex is good. be safe ya'll) Oral (f&m receiving), nipple play (kinda? & not for too long + reader has nipple piercings)

✧ Masterlist ✧

“Hey, man. Welcome to Rockstar tattoo and piercing whatcha lookin for tonight?” Minho, your ex and fellow co-owner of the shop asks as that familiar jingle rings through the empty shop. You’re too busy cleaning up your space to listen in on what the new customer wants. You’re sure that it’s something simple since it’s close to midnight and all that gets done this late are simple piercings and tattoos that people will regret in the morning.   

“Baby, you got a customer up front.” Minho calls as he makes his way over to his station. The name prompts a fake gag and an award winning eye roll as you move across your station

“Do not call me that, ew.” The echo of Minho’s chuckle makes him sound closer than he is as he rounds the corner of the wall dividing your spaces. You’re a two person crew so you get to spend every second that you’re in this shop with your ex which wouldn’t be so bad if he and his new girlfriend weren’t all over each other every chance that they got. You love the girl and they’re a much better match than the two of you ever were but it’s been so long since you’ve been with someone that you feel like they’re just teasing you at this point.

“You used to love that.” With folded arms he leans against your side of the wall and you turn to him with a hand on your hip while the other one is full of supplies.

“And I used to love you.” He hisses, holding a hand over his heart with faux pain in his eyes. 

“Ouch.” You throw an empty ink cap at him and you both laugh. “Well since you don’t love me I’ll be right back.” He walks over to the front desk, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and heading out to the front of the shop.

“Where the hell are you going?” You whine, running up behind him. He turns to face you with that mischievous glint in his eyes. Does he really need to go get his dick wet right now? 

“Seriously, Min!” He laughs at your incredulous scoff as he throws on his jacket. “If I’m not back in an hour, close up for me, yeah?” With a quick wink and a smirk he rushes out of the door before you even have a chance to protest. You know that he’ll be back, he always comes back but you still want to give him a piece of your mind. You flip him off as you watch him pass the large front window and he kisses back at you. You love that you two had a clean break but god does he get on your nerves. 

“Asshole.” You mumble under your breath as you look down at the form on the counter. “Hyunjin?” 

You hear shuffling in the very far corner of the waiting area as you flip through his paperwork. 

“That’s me.” You smile down at the clipboard once you hear his voice, at least he’s not some rude wasted guy. “You can come with me.” 

When you look up your jaw nearly hits the counter, is beautiful even the right word to describe this man? You don’t usually have a type but if you had to pick one it would be the man standing right in front of you. “ Uh, hey my name’s Y/n, I’ll be piercing you tonight and it uh-”

Gosh, his eye contact is intense, how does he do that? “It says here that you wanna get a horizontal eyebrow piercing?”

“Right.” He shakes his head as he rocks back and forth on his heels and you nod. 

“Awesome, it should be pretty quick, let’s do this.” You unlock the swing door and allow him back into your station. You decide to close the privacy curtain that separates your space from the rest of the shop since the chances of anyone else coming in is close to zero, you’re not as accessible as the shops close to town so this is the quiet hour for you.

Hyunjin watches as you start collecting the supplies that you’ll need. You move carefully, making sure that everything is just how you like it. “Have you been doing this for a long time?” You hadn’t even noticed the way that he seems to be nearly looking over your shoulder this entire time.

“Long enough.” He smiles at your shy laugh as you pick a marker from your cup. “We’ve owned this place for about three years.” 

“You and your boyfriend?” You scowl at his words, pulling a chuckle from his chest. “I guess he’s not your boyfriend.”

“He’s my ex, we already bought this place when we broke up so I couldn’t escape him.” A dramatic sigh follows your statement as you motion for him to sit down on the chair in front of you. “We're friends now, best friends, but I am a single girl.”

Hyunjin cocks his brow, causing you to accidently draw a line across his eyelid. “Sorry about that.” He chuckles and you smile at the soft sound. 

“It’s alright.” You clean him up and the feeling of his gaze burning into you makes you smirk. You’re more than used to clients staring at you, there are some that will try to make an ungraceful pass at you while they’re at it but for some reason having Hyunjin stare at you so intensely is welcomed? Maybe because he’s cute. That definitely helps. “Ready?”

“Ready.” You mark him perfectly this time and point him towards the mirror to check if he likes the placement. “Perfect.”

“Awesome let’s stick ya then.” You motion him towards your reclined chair and he gracefully fills the spot with his tall frame. “You’re not scared of needles are you?”

“Not at all.” The smirk on his face as he stares up at the ceiling catches you off guard. You’ve never seen anyone smile at the thought of getting stabbed before. You wipe your hands and snap on your gloves before moving in front of your rolling tray where all of your supplies are set up. “Did it hurt when you got yours?”

“Nope, but that’s probably because I did it myself.” You grab your scissor clamp and move next to Hyunjin. “Okay, so, the steps are to clamp the site, pierce it, feed the jewelry through and then you’re out of here.”

“Sounds easy enough, go ahead.” You nod leaning over him gently. This is the first time in all of your years as a piercing artist that you’ve felt self conscious about the deep V cut of your shirt. You usually couldn’t care less but right now you’re almost hyper aware of the way that you’re presenting yourself to the man in front of you. You’re also hyper aware of the way that he’s staring right at the lacey red of your bra that’s peeking out, or is it the studs of your nipple piercing pressing against your tight cotton shirt that’s caught his attention? Either way, the way that he’s staring is causing something that you haven’t felt in awhile to stir deep in your stomach.

“Gonna clamp you now, it shouldn’t hurt but just take a deep breath anyway.” You whisper as you turn his head a bit to get a better look at the piercing site. Now he’s really got a good view. He’s perfectly still as you clamp him and you praise him for every little thing that he does right, he seems to take a liking to that since every time something sweet comes out of your mouth he hums with contentment. 

“Ready for the stick?”

“Go ahead.” He licks his lips while his gaze is still trained on your chest and you can’t help but to push your thighs together. He seemed to have noticed since a ghost of a smile adorned his lips right after. 

“Breath in.” He follows your instruction and you position the needle right at the mark only pushing a bit to prepare him. “And out.” He was an easy stick, it went in perfectly. It was smooth and quick and he definitely hissed a moan when you did it. You stay in place, leaning over him with the plastic needle still in. 

“Everything good?” The sound of his moan rang through your ears as you avoided eye contact with him. He hums a confirmation, his eyes are shut now and his bottom lip is between his teeth. Good god. Did he not notice or does he just not care? Does he have a thing for pain? “I’m going to uh- feed the jewelry through.” 

You move his head a bit, trying to find the best position for the light to hit him. Why is the lighting so shitty all of the sudden? “Everything alright?” There’s a slight chuckle in his voice and you sigh.

“Yeah I just can’t get a good light right now. It’s like my damn shadow moved in the way.” You move a bit back and forth but nothing is comfortable enough. “Can I like… could you just move your hip over a bit?” He does as you ask immediately and you swiftly prop your knee up on the chair. 

“Thanks, that's so much better.” You grab the jewelry, and wedge it into the plastic needle for the feed through. “You’ll feel a bit of pressure, it might sting okay?”

“Mmhmm.” Just as you’re about to move the needle you feel the soft brush of his fingers on your inner thigh. That had to be an accident right? Do you want it to be an accident? Not really.

“One, two, go.” You slowly feed the jewelry through and this time a soft grunt leaves his lips but that’s not all. You freeze when you feel it, glancing down at Hyunjin while his eyes are still closed and his fingers grip the flesh of your inner thigh. “Good?”

“Great.” It’s a miracle that you didn’t moan at the feeling of him grabbing you but you decide to thank whatever higher power saved you instead of thinking about what if’s. One thing’s clear though; he definitely has a thing for pain.

“Let me just -” You reach over to your rolling tray and his grip on your thigh loosens but he doesn’t let go. “- Just gotta put the ball on the end.” You secure his jewelry, screwing on the end and wiping it down with bactine. 

“Done.” He sighs but he doesn’t move. You look down at him, expecting him to say something, but he stays silent. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the electricity that having his hand inches away from your heat is causing. “Wanna look at it?”

He nods, finally moving his hand, now maybe you can breathe normally. You both move at the same time but he sits up much slower than expected. “Feeling good?” Hyunjin hums as he adjusts his pants and makes his way over to the mirror, leaning in to get a good look at the new accessory. 

“So good.” Yup, he has a pain kink. It’s confirmed.

Once you’ve cleaned up all the immediate things and rid yourself of your gloves you move over towards him slowly. Usually you’d make small talk but you don’t feel too capable of doing that with the way that your core is pulsing with need at the moment. 

You watch as he studies the piercing. You should be looking at it too but you can’t focus on anything but the sharp beauty of his features and the way that his wine red hair falls against his temples and compliments the blush running up his neck. As much as you try to stop yourself you can’t help but indulge in taking him in further. You can’t help but to let your gaze run down the length of his strong arm and admire the way that his black sweats are hanging from his hips. Your eyes linger on the hem of his pants for a second too long and that’s when you notice it. Right below the perfect bow of his drawstrings is a delicious bulge that you desperately want to show attention to. Your tongue darts out, licking at the corner of your mouth a bit as you eye him. Snap out of it, come on.

“Think I should get a tattoo there?” Your eyes snap to his reflection but he’s already looking at you. Fuck, did he catch you staring? Of course he did, it was so obvious. “I’ve been thinking about it.” 

His smile makes you feel like you could explode at any second but you decide to try a bit harder to contain yourself. “I think that could be hot.” Fuck, no no no, why did you say that.

“Hot? You think so?” He cocks his eyebrow just like he did earlier but this time the gold stud adorning his thick brow makes a shiver run up your spine and sends a spark to your clit. He was already hot without the piercing but now it’s just unfair.

“Uh yeah, I do.” Before you can try to turn around and make your escape from further embarrassing yourself he turns to you. 

“Would you do it?” His eyes are focused on yours and for some reason you can’t find it in you to look away. 

“Do…your hip tattoo?” He nods and you shift your weight as you imagine the process. Could you even stand to be that close to his dick? You’re standing in front of him right now and you feel like you could combust from the eye contact. Surely you’ll melt if you end up having to stare at his hard dick for hours while he gets off on the pain of your needle for a second time. 

“I would.” Your answer leaves your lips in a half whisper before you can even think about it but the smile that pulls at his lips makes you forget your prior argument. “Just let me know when.”

“Do you have a card?” 

“Up front, I’ll give it to you with your care instructions.” You find yourself glancing down one more time before attempting to blink away all of your horny thoughts. As much as you want to fall to your knees and relieve him of his pain induced hard on you have to keep it professional, even if you were just caught staring at his dick print. “You paid when you came in, right?”

Quickly, you make your way around him to open your curtain and lead him to the counter. “Yeah I did.” You can feel him close behind you as you unlock the swing door to let him out.

“But you did such a great job.” The slam of the small door behind him makes you jump a bit but his following question is what really did it. “Do you take tips? Or could I give you more than that?”

You choke a bit on your inhale but at the same time there couldn’t possibly be a hint of oxygen left in your body with the way that he’s looking at you with his arms crossed and leaning on the counter. Your brain isn’t working anymore, it’s completely smooth as you stare back at Hyunjin’s cool smile. Hell, if he’s offering you’re going to take it.

Just as you’re about to calculate your own suggestive reply that familiar jingle echoes off the walls and your gaze lands on none-other than your godforsaken ex. He eyes you as you stand behind the counter with red cheeks and your palms spread and pressing into the desk. 

“All good?” He looks between you and Hyunjin with raised brows. You force a smile as you frantically scan the desk for the care instruction packet. 

“Yup, all good.” The sigh that follows your sentence is less than convincing but Minho lets it slide in the name of trusting you. You turn your attention back to Hyunjin who’s eyes were already on you. “So here are the care instructions. Don’t change it for about two months and uh, just make sure to keep it clean and um yeah everything that you need to know is in here.”

He takes the packet, brushing his fingers against yours in the process. Hopefully the way that you shivered wasn’t too obvious. Are you really that down bad? Usually you’re witty and flirty, you tend to have a pretty smart mouth with customers but as soon as you saw Hyunjin all of that went right out the window. 

“Your card.” He nods towards the display on the desk and you quickly grab one for him.

“It has the shop number and my instagram on there. If you want to contact me directly, Instagram is the best way to do it but I’m here almost everyday. If I’m not coming in, I'll post it on my story.” He flips the card between his fingers allowing you to get a good look at what you wish were still grabbing at the tender flesh of your thighs. Your focus breaks when he rubs the card between his fingers and a second one falls to the counter. “Oh, must’ve given you two by accident.”

“So I’ll message you.” Standing straight he slips the card into his pocket. “If I have any questions.” He takes a step back, taking you in one more time. 

“Yeah, I’ll answer as fast as I can.” 

“Baby, did you use the last of the caps?” Minho calls from the storage room and the scoff that follows makes Hyunjin laugh. 

“Stop calling me that for goodness sake.” With the flash of a quick smile and mumbled goodnight you leave Hyunjin at the front and head over to your annoying cock blocking ex. Once you get to him you see him leaning against the storage room door with his eyes on his phone screen. “I thought you were looking for caps.”

“Nah, figured that you needed me to save you. That guy should’ve been gone already.” Did he seriously just ruin any chance that you had at getting laid tonight? And by a man as hot as Hyunjin at that. 

“We were talking.”

“You don’t do small talk.” Minho’s pinched brows earns him an eye roll as you head over to your station. “So he wasn’t bothering you?”

“Far from it.” The way that you’re aggressively cleaning your tray gives Minho all the hints he needs but it would be out of character for him to just drop the topic.  

"Then what was he doing?" Minho asks in his teasing tone that you’ve grown to be more than familiar with. You pause and sigh as your mind lingers on the feel of Hyunjin’s fingers gripping you and the sounds he made with each hint of pain. 

"He was trying to make me interested." 

“Was it working?” The silence that followed his question spoke louder than any words could. “His number is on the form ya know.”

“Just lock up, Minho. I’m not breaking any privacy laws just so I can get fucked.” He throws his hands up in surrender, backing away and heading to the front. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to try and contain the many emotions running through you. You should’ve been on your game tonight but Hyunjin just threw you off. You haven’t been that attracted to anyone in so long that all of your skills went right out the window as soon as he looked at you. Maybe he’ll message you? Ask you a question or two and then ask you out. What if he doesn’t? What if Minho scared him off and you never hear from him again?

“Baby.” 

“Lee Minho, stop calling me -” You pause when you turn to him, looking down at the card he’s offering you between his fingers. “What?” He extends his arm to you further, earning his third eye roll of the day as you snatch the cardstock away from him.

“It’s my card.” You shrug at him.

“Turn it over.” Your pulse picks up a bit once you notice the red ink on the back of the card. Hyunjin’s name and number is written in pretty symbols right across the middle with a small note. ‘Call me, baby.’

“I’ll stop calling you that now.” 

Sleep didn't come easy last night but you sure did at the thought of Hyunjin. It doesn't help that you texted him immediately and he didn't waste a second before replying to you. Your night was spent getting to know him a bit as your mind danced on the idea of him fucking you into your mattress. The amount of time that you pretended that your fingers were his slender ones while you answered one of his questions is actually award winning. The taping of your cum covered fingers against your screen went on until you tired yourself out and fell asleep while waiting for his next text. 

“Going out.” Minho looked up from the sketch book in front of him just in time to watch as you grabbed your jacket from the chair next to his. 

“Did ‘baby’ call?” For the first time in a while you find yourself smiling and unbothered by his teasing. “She's smiling, did you finally catch a dick.”

“I'll let you know in a couple of hours.” The look on Minho’s face isn't one that you see often but it's your absolute favorite. “I'll be back, baby.”

You barely got to knock twice before the door to Hyunjin’s apartment swung open. He looks just as good if not better than he did last night and the fact that you’ve gotten to know him a bit better over text for the past couple of hours makes you feel like a college student sneaking into someone's dorm after curfew. It’s safe to say that you have a big fat crush now.

“Hey, nice piercing.” He pulls you into a quick hug before ushering you further into his place. Your eyes wander across his walls, taking in every detail. He really is the artsy type. 

“Thanks, some girl did it for me last night.” He watches you take in his space with hungry eyes, no matter how much he tells himself that he just met you and that he wants to take it slow he can’t seem to pace himself. The amount of times that he came into his fist last night just thinking of how pretty your nipple piercings must be and how your thighs would wrap perfectly around him is insane. Unfortunately, the orgasms didn’t put out the fire that burned for you deep in his stomach, it only made the flame bigger.

“Oh yeah?” You face him as you peel your jacket off slowly, letting it slide off of your shoulders and down your arms so gracefully that he couldn’t possibly ignore it. “Was she hot?”

His eyes fix on the fabric stretching tight against your chest, how dare you call that a shirt. It’s keeping little to nothing to the imagination but he can’t say that he’s mad at it. “So fucking hot, I couldn’t stop staring at her.”

Your jacket finds a home on the arm of his couch while you check out the paintings on his living room wall. The stretched canvas and sheets of beautifully stained paper are littered all over the ivory wall, serving as the only real means of decoration in this area of the room. “Do you think that she noticed?”

The energy around you turns electric as he steps up behind you, just close enough not to touch you. “I hope that she did.” 

“Why?” Your breathing is slow and shallow as your eyes run across the colors of the paintings on the wall. You’re not really taking in the beauty of the art anymore, you’re more concerned with the masterpiece standing behind you and what he’ll say next.

“So that she doesn’t feel surprised when I say -” He leans into you, fiddling with one of the paintings and pressing himself lightly into your back. A blistering heat washes over you at the feel of him against you. It’s so much more than you imagined it to be. “- That I think that she’s beautiful.”

He reaches for another painting, stepping forward just a bit to be closer to you. “And that as much as I want to take it slow and get to know her -” He slowly retracts his hand, stepping back and breaking all contact. You sigh, swallowing hard as you hang on each of his words. “I just can’t go another second without knowing what she feels like.”

You turn your head to the side, catching a glimpse of his burning gaze as he stares down at you. His dark eyes are undressing you before he even gets the chance to touch you. Something like you did to him yesterday. “I think that she’d feel the same way.” It’s a bit of a challenge but you manage to hold eye contact with him as you turn your body to face him.

“You think she’d let me touch her?” Eyes, lips, chest and repeat. That’s the pattern that his gaze follows while he waits for your answer. 

“I think she wants you to, so so badly.” His eyes meet yours and his hands are on you in an instant, grabbing at the plush of your waist and pushing you against the wall of art work behind you. 

“Thank god.” He whispers against your lips before attaching them in desperate hunger. The sound of paper and canvas falling to the floor is merely background noise in the heat of the moment.

He’s soft and sweet like honey, his touch is like satin against your skin and your head is fuzzy. Holy fuck. He swallows the moan that escapes you as you welcome his tongue into your mouth, offering his own sinful sounds as a counter. His hands are grabbing at the exposed skin of your stomach while he pushes your shirt up to expose more of you. Your hands fist the fabric of his shirt, you want him closer. You need him closer. He pulls away abruptly, staring down at you panting and flushed. He takes a step back and you take a step forward. 

“Think she’ll let me fuck her?” He continues to step back from you and you match each move that he makes. Your hands find the bottom hem of your shirt and you pull the fabric over your head, revealing your flimsy lace bra to him. A hiss falls from his lips as he falls back into his couch. Sitting with his legs spread and ready for you, the perfect seat. 

“You better fuck her.” Once you climb onto his lap his lips are back on yours in an instant. The kiss is hungry, desirous, passionate. It’s everything that you knew it would be and more. His palms rest on your breasts, kneading the flesh and flicking at the heart studs of your nipple piercings. A shiver runs over you at the feeling and Hyunjin smiles against you at the reaction.

“Sensitive?” He mumbles, following with a kiss and you nod with a deep moan. “Fuck.” He pushes your breast together, jiggling them in his palms while he watches with his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I wanted to see these so badly last night.” You knew he was staring. “Wanted to run my tongue over these pretty little studs.” 

“What’s stopping you now?” You grind your hips into him, milking a choked moan from his throat. He’s so hard underneath you, his sweat pants are doing little to restrain his pulsing cock from pressing into your needy core but even that bit of pressure is not enough to satiate your hunger. His fingers peel down the lace of your bra and you watch as his tongue dips out of his mouth and swirls the silver jewelry. “Hyunjin.” 

He hums, content with the way that his name sounds falling from your pretty lips, it’s then that you remember last night. Praise and pain, those are his things right? Let’s test it out.

The feeling of his tongue laving over your sensitive peak breaks you out of your thoughts and fogs your mind all over again. He shows both of your breasts equal attention, wetting your nipples with long drags of his tongue followed by a skillful swirl of the muscle around your shiny silver bars. “ So good, oh my god.” He hums, sucking a bit harder at the sound of your sweet words. 

Your fingers lace through the wine red strands of his hair, scratching and rubbing at his scalp for a bit until he grazes his teeth over the sensitive peak of your nipple. You’re pulling at his roots before you can even process it but the pornographic moan that escapes him as he falls into your touch makes you happy that you did it.

“A pain slut?” Matching smirks paint your faces but his is quickly swept away when you bring your other hand up through his roots and pull again. “I knew it.” You grind into him, the moans escaping him are making you hungry for friction all over again. 

His hands grasp your hips, gripping you so tightly that you’re sure there will be beautiful bruises there in the morning. “What gave me away?” His eyes stay on yours as you hold his head back by his hair. Yesterday his gaze was blinding but tonight you find it easier to handle the heat that it causes to rise on the surface of your skin. You’re okay with going blind if he’s the last thing that you see. 

“Hm.” His eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his pulse “Maybe it was the way you moaned when I stuck you.” Sloppy kisses and small nibbles of his milky flesh draws a moan similar to the one that’s been playing in your head all night to leave his blushed lips.

“Or the way that you grabbed my thigh.” Your teeth sink into the flesh of his neck and the sound that he makes in response is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot. “Or how hard you were when I was finished.”

“Do that again.” So biting is his favorite, huh? 

“Say please.” 

“Please, do that again. Bite me, harder. Please let me feel that again.” He’s begging? You’ve never been with a man who was willing to do that. A mumbled praise makes his cock twitch against you as one of his hands slips down to your ass, gripping the cheek firmly but not squeezing. Your teeth sink into his neck again, a deep guttural groan escapes him while his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass through your jeans. “Oh, baby.”

You pull away at the feeling of a warm spot beneath you. When you look down at your clothed cores the sticky wet spot presents itself to you. He came just from you biting him and he's still hard. No fucking way.

“You made a mess.” A familiar darkness falls upon his gaze and now it's your turn to moan from the grip he has on your hair. “Clean it up for me, angel.”

You crawl backwards off of his lap, lowering down onto your knees as his grip in your hair ensures that your eyes stay on his. He shimmies his pants down with his free hand, your eye contact falters for just a second so that you can steal a glance at his cock. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be, long and curved ever so slightly. The angry red tip is glistening with cum in the low light, you run your tongue along your lips at the thought of sucking him clean. 

“One day you’ll give me a pretty tattoo right here, won’t you?” He pulls your hair towards him, controlling your head so that you lean into his hip. You plant a sloppy kiss against his skin, nipping and licking like a desperate puppy. His cock twitches at the feel of your lips on the newly discovered patch of skin. “I’ll be hard as a rock with your pretty face so close to my cock.” He moves your head over just enough for you to lick up some of the cum from his flawless thigh. 

“You think you could do it? Think you could be that close to my cock and not put me in your mouth?” Little does he know that you’ve already thought about it and the answer is no. Hell no, absolutely not. “Maybe it would be me who loses control.”

He yanks back on your hair, lifting your head back up to meet his gaze. He brings his bent pointer finger to your chin and runs his thumb down your swollen lips. “I have a feeling that I’ll be addicted to this mouth.” His eyebrow piercing catches the light as he stares down at you and you can’t help but to feel turned on by the fact that you did that to him. You’re responsible for that pretty stud on this pretty man. 

“Let’s see if I’m right.” You open your mouth eagerly once he sits back and guides you over to his waiting cock. A hiss escapes him once you take him to the hilt, swallowing around him with watery eyes. He marvels at the way your pretty lips stretch around him, taking every single inch of him until his tip makes your throat bulge and your mouth water. You bob your head, licking and sucking him clean. The taste of his cum is so sweet, so perfect, maybe you’re just insanely horny or maybe he’s your new favorite candy. The only thing you’ll have a craving for from this point on. 

“That throat is taking me so well.” The vibration of your hum makes Hyunjin bite his lip as he watches you. You bring your hands up to his naked thighs and claw your nails lightly down the exposed skin. His cock twitches in your mouth and your pussy throbs at the feeling of it. You’re a big fan of foreplay, it’s super important and fun and everything but you would do anything to skip all of this and simply feel Hyunjin’s cock sink into your dripping pussy. “This is what you wanted yesterday isn’t it? This is what you wanted when you were staring at my dick?”

The deep rasp of his voice as he asks such filthy questions makes you press your thighs together, Hyunjin moves his foot in between your knees. Kicking your legs apart and taking away the relief you were chasing.

“Need me now?” Your desperate gaze up at him is all the answer that he needs. He lets go of your hair and you slowly come up off of his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip a bit and releasing him with a string of spit still connecting you. He offers you his hand to help you up off of your knees before dropping to his own right in front of you. 

With a burning gaze on your naked stomach he unbuttons your jeans and slowly drags them over the curve of your hips. His eyes scan every inch of newly exposed skin, leaving sweet soft kisses against the silky skin of your thighs. He takes a deep breath before pulling your panties down, his hands lingering against your bare skin as he admires your body. He leans in and places a soft kiss against your exposed center once you step out of your panties. What was supposed to be a simple kiss turned into a few kitten licks against your clit which then quickly evolved into long drags of his tongue through your folds while he palms your ass. 

“Hyun- Hyunjin holy fuck.” Your fingers thread into his dark strands again, lightly pulling at his roots and milking moans from him. “Please fuck me. Please just fuck me I want to feel you.”

“Gotta get you ready.” He spits onto your clit, watching it drip down your lips a bit before catching with his tongue and spreading it over your folds. “I need my girl dripping around my cock.”

His lips wrap around your clit and you throw your head back in a silent scream before looking down at him. His eyes are closed as he laps at your pussy, sucking and licking like his life depends on it. You admire the shimmer of his fresh piercing as you watch him, pathetic whimpers falling from you as he dangles your orgasm in front of your face. You’ve been thinking about him for hours and now you’ve finally got him. You get to cum on his tongue and watch him slurp up every drip of your essence.

“I’m gonna cum, oh my god.” Your grip on his hair tightens and he hisses against you. He swirls his skilled tongue around your swollen clit a couple of times and you can feel the blistering heat setting all over your body. You’re so close, it’s so good and then he pulls away.

“Hyun-” Your whine is cut off by the soft yet aggressive feeling of his lips on yours.

“I want you to cum on my cock.” The taste of your pussy on his tongue distracts you from the feeling of him guiding you to the couch. He pushes you down, watching you with a smirk as he pushes his damp hair out of his face. You watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, balling it up and using it to dap at the sweat on his forehead before throwing it to the side with the rest of your clothes. “Do me a favor.”

His fingers dig into your plush waist as he positions you. He props his knee on the soft cushion,  lining himself up with your entrance and teasing your sopping folds with his leaky tip. “Anything.” You fist the pillow right above you, placing it under your head to get a bit more comfortable. 

“Call me baby.” He slips into you before you can even reply to him, stretching you out so deliciously and filling up your gushing pussy until his tip kisses your cervix. The moan that echoes through his apartment is high pitched and airy, your lungs burn from the electricity charged air as you cry out for him, gripping at the couch cushions as you try to ground yourself.

“Baby.” The first time that his hips snap into you his jaw clenches and his eyes roll to the back of his head. His imagination barely did you justice last night, his fist is nothing compared to the way that your pussy is clenching around him. The ungodly squelches of his cock plunging into you sends shivers down his spine. 

“Fuck, you’re heaven.” He coos, the rasp in his voice makes your pussy clench around him as he presses your thighs back towards your chest. Hyunjin picks up the pace, snapping into you with unholy force. 

It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything but your own fingers and it’s been even longer since you’ve been fucked this good. Not even Minho can top this and he was the best fuck you ever had. The mascara stained tears running down your cheeks translates all of that to Hyunjin without you having to say a word, it’s not like you could say anything but his name even if you wanted to. Your orgasm creeps up on you again, dangling in front of you like bait for a fish.

“Hyun - Hyunjin please don’t stop. Gonna cum gonna -” You cry out as he slams into you, filling you to the hilt and staying as still as possible. “Please please, ‘s so close please.”

“Not yet, baby.” he beckons you with two fingers, motioning for you to sit up. He helps you up, shifting your position so that you’re on top of him. You clench around him at the movement and he hisses at the tight feel of you. He’s close too but he wants you to fall apart on top of him. He wants to see you fall apart up close so that he can fuck his fist to the memory of it for days after.

 “Ride me, come on.” A firm slap to your ass makes your hips buck into him as you start to move along his length. 

You’re fucked out, chasing your pleasure desperately on top of a pretty man with a pretty cock. He wraps his arms around you, hugging you against his chest when he suddenly starts fucking up into you. He’s impossibly deep and you find yourself gasping for air against his shoulder. Moans and grunts fill the hot air as you fuck each other. For each thrust into you, you grind down on his cock, keeping him deliciously deep in your cunt. Your teeth mindlessly graze over the slope of his shoulder before you bite down into him. Bite, lick, suck. That’s the pattern you follow, over and over again. Making him sing for you as his fingers caress your spine. 

“Come on, you can do it harder than that.” He gasps when you accept his challenge, biting into him with a bruising force. His thrusts become more erratic as he nears his climax but he’s determined to let you soak his cock before he pulls out. “Look at me, baby.”

He leans back into the sofa and his hand moves between your bodies once your eyes meet his. His middle and pointer finger rubs circles into your clit while he ruts up into you “Yes yes, yes ‘s so good.” 

“You like my cock, pretty girl?” The fog in your brain is so thick that you can’t help but to babble as your orgasm climbs up your spine for the third time tonight.

“Love it. Love cock, you -you’re cock. Hyunjin, ‘m gonna cum o-on your cock.” He thought that you were breathtaking before but watching you cock drunk and fucked out while you’re bouncing on his dick might be his favorite way to see you. 

“Go ahead, cum on my cock.” With a few more sloppy thrusts your body trembles against him as you come undone on top of him. He fucks you through it, keeping his fingers pressed against your clit as you squirm on top of him. Your vision goes white and there’s a ringing in your ears that blocks out every word of praise that falls from Hyunjin’s lips. The only thing that you can register is the pressure of his cock as he simultaneously abuses your cervix and clit. 

“Hyun- fuck fuckfuck. So much. Too much.” Once you find the strength to open your eyes you're met with Hyunjin smiling up at you with pinched brows. “You can take it.”

“Pull my hair, baby.” Your trembling hands find their way along the familiar path of his scalp seconds after his request. Pulling at his roots with a delicious force that makes Hyunjin’s eyes roll back as he licks his lips.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” Moans and whines fall from you nonstop as he fucks into your swollen and sensitive cunt, the wet sound of your arosual where Hyunjin’s cock disappears into you echoes off the walls until he stops, breath hitching in his throat. “Come here.”

His hand is in your hair before you can protest, lifting you off of him and onto your knees. Your cunt feels so empty without him inside of you. “Gonna let me cum on those pretty tits?”

“Yeah, yeah please. Wan' your cum, baby.” He throws his head back, pumping his slick cock in front of your face while you mindlessly slur praises for him. “You’re so fucking pretty, please let me have it. Please, I wan' Jinnie’s cum.” 

“Baby, baby, cumming. I’m fucking cumming.” You both watch as thick ropes of his cum paints your breasts. Dripping over your nipples and the shiny studs just how Hyunjin pictured it last night. “Shit.” 

Your panting fills the room as you both take a second to come down from your high. Hyunjin offers you his hand, helping you up from your knees and catching you when you stumble a bit with a chuckle. “Let me clean you up so you can lie down.” He sits you on the couch, grabbing his sweats and pulling them on before making his way to the bathroom for a wet cloth. 

You blink a couple of times, trying your best to adjust to the light around you. It’s dim but everything seemed darker in your fucked out haze. You settle against the armrest of the sofa, smiling like an idiot while the pulsing of your clit reminds you of everything that just happened. Who would’ve thought that an eyebrow piercing could lead you to having the best fuck of your life. Just as you allow your eyes to flutter shut you feel a heavy vibration under you. With a groan you lift yourself up and search for the source. It’s your jacket, it must be your phone. Oh my gosh, Minho! You sit up with all the strength that you can muster, unlocking your phone and checking your messages. 

“Everything alright?” Hyunjin questions as he kneels in front of you with a warm cloth in hand.

“Yup, just fine.” You grin down at your screen before pushing your phone to the side and allowing Hyunjin to wipe you clean.

From Minho: Knew you weren’t coming back.