#and he went on his ‘you’re an adult and it’s your choice in the end but i wouldn’t recommend it’ spiel

[writingfics-passingtime]

hi, can you please write about the reader overthinking decorating a pumpkin and loki threatens to tickle them if they don't start it 🤗🤗

I can still post pumpkin content cause it's still November, right?

Here's a sassy, stoic reader, an absolute teasing menace Loki, and a tender, emotional ending (because I can't help myself).

word count: ~4300

pairing: Loki x female reader

content / warnings: sexual tension, suggestive banter, flirting and touching, tickling, swearing

minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a suggestive relationship between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

note: thank you anon ~ I wasn't going to respond yet because my prompts aren't open, but I've seen a few other writers receive and fulfil this ask, and I've liked seeing what other have done with it. My imagination went a little wild. Thanks for your message x

If anyone has an idea for a title, help a girl out

The room was alive with voices, clinking bottles, and the occasional scrape of a knife against pumpkin flesh. The compound’s main dining hall had been transformed into an unlikely tableau of domesticity. Avengers, gods, and spies bent over their assigned gourds with varying levels of skill and enthusiasm. Stark’s pumpkin already looked like a disaster of glitter and questionable wiring, while Natasha’s had been carved into a clean, menacing grin, a masterpiece of precision.

And then there was you.

Your pumpkin sat pristine and untouched in front of you, its smooth surface mocking your indecision. Brushes, carving tools, and paints were scattered around your space, all conspicuously unused. You held a small knife in your hand, twirling it absently as you stared at the blank canvas.

“Do mortals often find themselves defeated by vegetables, or is this particular weakness unique to you?”

Loki's voice slid over you like velvet, dark and rich, tinged with mockery.

You didn’t look up. “It’s a fruit, actually.”

“Ah,” he drawled, moving closer. “Semantics. How very like you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lean against the edge of the table, his long, lean frame clothed in casual, dark fabrics that clung just enough to remind you that he wasn’t of your world. His sharp blue eyes sparkled with amusement as he surveyed your untouched pumpkin.

“You’ve been staring at it for nearly an hour,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Surely even you can’t find this much to overthink.”

You exhaled sharply, finally meeting his gaze. “Maybe I’m waiting for inspiration.”

“Or perhaps you’re simply afraid to begin.” His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk, the kind that made your pulse stumble. “One wrong cut, one poorly chosen stroke, and the whole thing could be ruined. What a tragic metaphor for your careful, overthought life.”

“Thanks for the analysis, Freud,” you said dryly, turning your attention back to the pumpkin. “Now, if you’re done, I have work to do.”

“Work?” His laugh was quiet, mocking. He moved closer, the faint rustle of his clothing brushing against your senses like a whisper. “Sitting frozen with indecision isn’t work, darling. It’s fear.”

You bristled but kept your voice calm. “If you’re so invested in this pumpkin, why don’t you decorate it yourself?”

“Because I find your quandary far more entertaining.”

He stepped around behind you then, his tall frame casting a shadow over your seat. His presence loomed, a magnetic pull you both resented and couldn’t entirely resist.

“I’ll give you a choice,” he said softly, his voice close now, the faintest trace of his breath against your ear. “Either you begin decorating this ridiculous fruit, or I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

You turned slightly, meeting his eyes over your shoulder. They gleamed with dark amusement, his smirk widening as he caught the way your lips parted involuntarily. “Oh? And how exactly would you do that?”

Loki’s smirk deepened, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. “I could start with this.”

Before you could react, his fingers brushed against your sides, featherlight but enough to send a jolt through you. You stiffened, gripping the edge of the table as his touch lingered, just shy of maddening.

You twisted in your chair to glare at him. “That’s your plan? Tickle me into submission? How original.”

His chuckle was low, dark, a sound that sent a shiver up your spine. “Oh, I think it would be quite effective. And besides,” he murmured, leaning closer, “I suspect you’d secretly enjoy it.”

Your breath caught at the sheer audacity of him, the way his voice dipped into something so sultry, so intimate, that your stomach twisted. “Sounds like you're desperate for an excuse to touch me,” you shot back, your tone sharp despite the heat rising in your cheeks.

He tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more dangerous, more deliberate. “Desperate? No, darling. Just curious.”

His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, as if he could see straight through you to the rapid beat of your heart.

The air between you seemed to thicken, the tension coiling taut as his words hung there, daring you to respond.

Your grip on the table tightened as you forced yourself to meet his eyes, even as heat coiled low in your stomach.

It felt like gripping the steering wheel of a car spinning out, but you snapped the moment.

“You’re not as intimidating as you think you are."

Loki laughed, soft and wicked. “Of course not. And you're the picture of composure, as always."

His hand brushed against yours then, the faintest graze of his fingertips, and you swore the room tilted.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locked on yours. “Prove me wrong. Pick up the brush. Start decorating. Show me you're not afraid of a little fun.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it. The weight of his gaze, the dark amusement in his smirk, the sheer magnetic pull of him it was... intoxicating.

Finally, with a sharp exhale, you grabbed the brush. “Fine,” you said, your voice tight as you dipped it into the paint.

Loki straightened, his smirk triumphant but his eyes still glinting with wicked intent. “There’s a good girl,” he said softly, the words like a caress against your ear.

It left you burning long after he’d stepped away.

As you focused on the paint in front of you, doing your best to ignore the heat coursing through your veins, you felt the thrill of his words linger.

The brush hovered over the pumpkin, the orange, unsullied skin glaring up at you like a taunt. Loki had retreated to the far end of the room, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the edge of the table as he spoke with Thor. You knew it was only a matter of time before his attention flickered back to you, the heat of a flame too close for comfort.

You had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm under his gaze any longer.

Sliding the brush down as quietly as possible, you rose from your seat. The soft scrape of your chair legs across the floor was muffled beneath the ambient chatter of the room, and Loki didn’t so much as glance your way. Your pulse quickened as you edged toward the door, heart hammering with every step.

He didn’t follow.

Once you’d slipped into the quiet of the hall, the tension in your chest eased, and you let out a breath you were very aware you'd been holding.

You made your way toward the compound’s library, the solitude of it a welcome balm. The others would still be occupied for at least another hour - enough time for you to lose yourself in the pages of your book and avoid whatever game Loki had been playing that almost made you crack.

The library greeted you with its familiar quiet, the scent of leather sofas and paper a comforting presence. You found your usual spot tucked away in a far corner, a large bay window cushioned with soft pillows overlooking the courtyard. Settling in with a contented sigh, you pulled your book from where you'd wedged it between the seat cushion and the wooden frame.

The story drew you in almost immediately, the tension of moments ago dissolving into the words on the page. The sunlight filtering through the window began softening into twilight, painting the room in hues of amber and shadow.

The quiet here was sacred, untouched by the chaos of the compound. As you turned the last few pages, your chest loosened, the illusion of safety creeping in.

Surely, he hadn’t followed you. Surely, Loki had other things to occupy himself-

Surely not.

“I expected better from you.”

The voice slithered into your ears, so low and sudden that your breath caught in your throat. With all your years of training, you managed to stay frozen. Futile, though. You knew he could see right through it.

You looked up, and there he stood, shadowed and immaculate, his silhouette framed by the dim glow of a single, golden lamp. His icy blue eyes glinted with cruel amusement, his lips curling into a smirk that made your stomach twist.

“How... predictable,” he continued, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “You flee like a rabbit, thinking you can burrow away from the wolf.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs, but you forced yourself turn back your book. “I don’t recall fleeing,” you started, turning a page. “I walked out, actually. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the difference in your old age.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, like distant thunder rolling over jagged peaks. “Ah, there it is. That fire you wear like armour. Does it soothe you to pretend you’re unshakeable?”

You scoffed, even as your pulse betrayed you. “You’re awfully sure of yourself for someone whose only hobby seems to be tormenting me.”

“Torment?” he echoed, his voice silken as he closed more distance between you. “My dear, if I were tormenting you, you’d know it. Shall I demonstrate?”

You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead turning another page of your book. The words blurred before your eyes, but you kept your expression neutral. “If you think I’m going to feed your ego by reacting, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

"Why did you refuse to take part?" There was something unnervingly earnest in his voice that pulled at your heart. "Why did you leave?"

You looked up, wearing a mask of indifference and sarcasm. “I didn’t realise decorating pumpkins was a matter of state importance.”

The smirk tugging at his lips was slow and predatory, dark amusement glinting in his eyes. “Such sharp words, little rabbit. Always so quick with your tongue when your heart’s trying to claw its way out of your chest.”

Your pulse spiked, but you refused to let him see it. Instead, you tilted your head, letting a slow, sardonic smirk curve your lips. “You said you weren't desperate, Loki. But you seem to have taken to taunting me for sport."

The laugh that slipped from him was low and sinuous, curling like smoke through the still air. “Oh, I don’t need sport to occupy me. But you…” He leaned forward, the space between you vanishing in an instant. “You’re far too entertaining to resist. Especially when you’re trembling behind that mask of yours.”

“I’m not trembling.”

“No?” His voice was a purr now, his breath brushing your ear as he lowered himself just enough to meet you at eye level. “I suppose you weren’t squirming earlier, either. Like prey in my hands.”

Your cheeks flared with heat, but you kept your expression neutral. “You sound obsessed.”

“And you sound very ticklish.”

The way he said it - smooth, dark, laced with that damned smirk -sent a ripple of mortification through you. It was all the confirmation you needed of his intentions to follow through on his earlier threat.

It was inevitable.

So you leaned back, lifting your book as if to shield yourself from the weight of his gaze. If you were going down, you were going down swinging. Well, verbally, at least.

“You’re overplaying your hand.”

“Oh, am I?” He stood to his full height, towering over you now, his shadow eclipsing the faint light. “Because the ones who act so tough, so stoic, so unbothered... they’re always the most fun. It’s so very delicious to watch them fall apart.”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night?” You forced your tone into something light, dismissive, though your grip on the book tightened. “That you’ve got me figured out?”

His smirk deepened, his head tilting as he studied you like a puzzle he already knew how to solve. “I don’t need to tell myself anything. You do all the work for me.”

Your lips parted for a retort, but his eyes flickered down to the slight tremor in your fingers, the way your knees shifted restlessly against the cushions.

And you saw how his smile widened, satisfied and predatory, when he saw all the hallmarks of someone about to flee.

“Go ahead,” he murmured, voice dropping to a velvet whisper. “Run. It’ll be more fun for me.”

For a split second, you froze, torn between logic and instinct. Then you bolted, your book tumbling to the seat as you darted for the nearest gap.

But Loki was faster.

You didn't make it two full steps before he caught you with a preternatural ease, his ensnaring hands dragging you back against him in one smooth motion. His low chuckle brushed your ear as he manoeuvred you down onto the window seat, half-pinning you on your side with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist.

“Pitiful,” he drawled, his tone rich with mockery. “And here I thought you’d make it a challenge.”

You shoved at him, scowling. “Let me go, you overgrown-”

Whatever venom you’d prepared was shattered as his fingers pressed into your ribs, curling with precision against the fabric of your sweater. Laughter burst from you, loud and uncontrollable, and you immediately clamped your lips shut, mortified by the sound.

“Ah,” Loki purred, his grin widening. “There it is. That lovely sound you try so hard to keep from the world. Go on, darling. Let me hear it again.”

“Loki, wait- no!” you gasped, but his hands had already found the curve of your waist, his fingers pinching with precision that felt criminal.

“No?” he echoed, mockingly incredulous. “You were so calm a moment ago. What happened?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. His hands slipped beneath the hem of your sweater, squeezing tighter, his nails grazing the bare skin of your sides. You quaked at the contact, laughter spilling out uncontrollably as he found every sensitive spot with uncanny accuracy. Your hands clutched at his forearms, his chuckle hot and tempting against your neck as your head fell back in mirth.

“Tell me the truth,” he said, his voice low and commanding, the words a dark melody against your ear. “Why did you run?”

“I- I...” you wheezed, twisting in his hold, going nowhere. With a ferocious, defiant growl, you yelled, "I... walked!"

Loki paused, his lips curling in that knowing smirk, and then he tickled harder, digging in with precision. You crumpled back against him, laughing helplessly, unable to catch your breath. Every sound that left your mouth was a mix of laughter and helpless gasps, each one a surrender to him, to the unrelenting tickling.

“Let's try again,” Loki commanded, his voice low, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me why you fled.”

You struggled to pull yourself together, trying to come up with another witty retort, but before you could speak, Loki found an especially sensitive spot, just under your ribs, and his fingers locked in with a brutal efficiency. You shrieked, squirming beneath him, but he held you there with the effortless force of a god, his smile widening against the shell of your ear.

You thrashed harder, your laughter raw and breaking, tears welling in your eyes. “I’ll- kill you-”

“You’ll what?” He laughed, low and dark, his fingers picking up speed again, pressing and kneading with wicked precision. Every stroke of his hands felt like it was designed to unravel you, to push you past your limits and then some.

The realisation hit like a blow: he could read you. Every shudder, every hitch in your breath, every twitch of your body. And worse, he was enjoying it, adjusting his touch with the kind of skill that only centuries of mischief could hone. His hands didn’t just tickle; they teased, tormented, mastered you.

"You- oh my g-" you gasped, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "You absolute fucking-"

“Such language,” he chided, his tone a tease of disapproval. “And after I’ve been so gentle.”

His fingers danced lower, teasing the curve of your hips, and the laugh that escaped you was so deep, so raw, it left your chest aching. Loki stilled for half a heartbeat, his grin sharp as he took in the sound, before redoubling his efforts. He pressed his thumbs into the tender space just above your hipbones, his fingers curling to squeeze in a way that had you screaming, your body writhing in his iron grip.

“Okay! Okay!” you gasped, tears of mirth welling in your eyes.

“Speak, then,” he commanded in low and silken voice, his fingers unrelenting. “And don’t lie to me. You won’t like the consequences.”

“I—” You hesitated, your breath hitching, but he gave you no mercy. His nails dragged lightly over your ribs, and the sound that tore from you was half a laugh, half a desperate gasp.

“Speak."

“I didn’t want to embarrass myself!” you finally choked out, your body trembling beneath his. “I didn’t want to make something stupid and have everyone see how bad it is!”

Immediately, his hands stilled, and you gulped in a shuddering breath. He unwrapped his arms from around you and leaned back, his smirk softening into something almost... fond. You shoved at him weakly, as if not quite believing he was retreating.

“Well,” he said, standing and staring down at you, admiring his handiwork, “you’ve certainly made a spectacle of yourself now.”

You glared at him, flushed and breathless. “You... are insufferable.”

“And you,” he countered, his grin returning, “are utterly fascinating. Shall we?”

Before you could protest, he hooked his arms under your knees and around your back, sweeping you up effortlessly, carrying you toward the door. You squirmed in his grasp.

“What the hell are you doing now?”

“Delivering you back to the battlefield,” he said, his smirk a knife’s edge. “You’re not escaping that easily. You’ve still got a pumpkin to ruin, and I, for one, am thoroughly invested in the spectacle.”

You groaned, your head falling back in defeat. "I hate you."

The smirk in his voice was undeniable. "No, you don't."

The dining hall was no longer the lively scene it had been earlier.

Now, it was deserted, shadows stretching long and dark across the room, flickering with the faint light of a few dying candles. The scent of melted wax and pumpkin guts permeated in the air, and the silence was nearly oppressive.

Loki carried you inside, his grip firm but not unkind, and though you didn’t resist, you couldn’t help but feel a smouldering irritation at the way he seemed to enjoy this small victory. When he set you down, his hands lingered at your waist, steadying you, as though daring you to bolt again.

You stepped forward, stopping just shy of your untouched pumpkin. Its smooth, orange surface gleamed in the low light, mocking you. The tools remained where you’d left them, and the weight of your earlier frustration pressed at the edges of your mind.

“I... don’t know what to do with it,” you said finally, turning back to Loki. You hated how the admission sounded - small, almost defeated - but there was no taking it back now.

Loki’s sharp gaze softened imperceptibly. His lips twitched, but the smirk didn’t fully form. “Then I shall help you,” he said, his voice low and smooth, offering no room for argument.

Before you could respond, he sat in your chair with that infuriating ease, his presence commanding even in the simplest of movements. His eyes met yours, glittering with a mixture of challenge and amusement, and he reached out a hand, curling his fingers in a silent demand.

“What are you-” The words barely left your mouth before you realised he was beckoning you to sit on his lap. Heat flushed through you, unbidden, and you scoffed, trying to mask it. “You do realise chairs are meant for one person, don’t you?”

Yet, unwilling to have him see how he was sliding under your skin, you turned and settled yourself against him. His muscled chest brushed against your back, his legs firm and solid as your seat.

“And yet, here we are,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. His hand settled at your waist - an anchor, not a cage. “Now, let’s see if we can salvage your poor, neglected pumpkin.”

You scoffed, grabbing the carving tool. “Fine. Show me your masterful technique, Your Highness.”

The title came out sharper than intended, but Loki only chuckled, low and indulgent. He leaned closer, his shadow engulfing yours, and reached around your shoulder to guide your hand. His fingers slid over yours, his grip firm but not harsh. “Relax,” he murmured. His voice sent a delicious shiver down your spine. “You grip it like a weapon. This is art, not war.”

You bit back a retort and let him guide you. His body was close enough that his every movement brushed against yours, his breath warm against your cheek. Together, you began to carve into the pumpkin, slow and deliberate. His free hand flexed against your waist, your free hand steadying the canvas.

As the shapes emerged, you realised they weren’t ordinary designs. They were runes.

Norse runes. Delicate, intricate, and entirely unreadable to you.

Loki worked with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his hand steady as he traced the lines with your hand.

“What does it say?” you asked eventually, breaking the silence.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck as he murmured, “You’ll see. Keep holding it steady."

The tension between you grew with every passing second. His touch lingered long, his presence close. Every shift of his body beneath yours was impossible to ignore, every brush of his breath against your skin a reminder of just how thin the line between teasing and something real had become.

When the carving was done, you slipped off his lap, feeling the need for a the brief moment of distance for your sanity, and retrieved a candle from the sideboard.

But the room felt colder without him holding you.

You lit the wick and placed the candle inside the pumpkin, watching as the light filled the carved runes, casting jagged shadows across the table.

You turned back to Loki. His expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on you as though he could see straight through to your very thoughts.

Carefully, you sat back down on his lap, unable to ignore the magnetic pull he seemed to have on you. This time, you sat side-on. His hands settled instinctively, one on your back, one on your knee, holding you steady. With his height, your faces were almost level, but you still had to look ever so slightly up.

“What does it say?” you asked again, your voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile thing had formed between you.

“The name of a great warrior,” he said, his tone mockingly reverent. “Renowned for wit, skill, and unmatched beauty.”

You arched a brow, your lips twitching. “Let me guess. Your name?”

His grin widened, and the silence was answer enough for you.

You rolled your eyes, but a genuine smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yet undeniably fascinating,” he countered, his voice a low purr. His gaze dropped to your lips, and his smirk faltered, replaced with something quieter, more tender. Relieved. "There it is." His words were almost a sigh.

You tilted your head, raising a brow in question.

“I was beginning to fear you didn’t know how to smile.”

The intimacy of his words rendered you speechless for several, long seconds. Your mind faltered, your fingers fidgeting in your lap.

“What? You don't remember what happened like... twenty minutes ago? I recall laughing to the point of tears, thanks to you.”

“That was different,” he said simply, his tone quieter, earnest.

The air between you thickened, heavy with unspoken things. His hand moved in slow, deliberate patterns against your back. “It must be exhausting,” he said after a moment, his voice gentle and laced with something that sounded dangerously close to sympathy. “Always bracing for the next crisis.”

His sudden sincerity caught you off-guard. You fidgeted with your hands, stained with pumpkin pulp, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It’s not like that,” you muttered, though the words felt hollow.

“Isn’t it?” His hand stilled on your back for a moment before continuing its slow, soothing movements. “You are allowed moments of meaningless joy. To partake in frivolity. It doesn’t make you weak.”

A bitter laugh escaped you, soft and humourless. “I take it you didn’t buy that I was embarrassed about the pumpkin?”

He tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Not for a second.”

You looked up, straight into him. "But you let me go."

His gaze fell to your lips, as if he were already missing your smile. Mourning it. Plotting a witty remark or flirtatious comment that might see its return.

He then looked back to your eyes, swallowing harder than usual, his voice now gentle. “I thought you were due for some mercy. You... seem to have very little for yourself.”

The words settled over you like a weight, heavy and undeniable.

And for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.

"It feels wrong," you admitted in little over a whisper. "To... do things like this when so many people-" The breath caught in your throat and you had to look back at your hands, sniffing to buy some time. "It's selfish. Carving pumpkins. Decorating. Laughing at stupid things. People are out there suffering, and I’m here playing holiday games. Safe.”

Loki was quiet for a long moment, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate movements along your back. It brought you far more comfort than you'd ever admit out loud. Not yet, at least.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, the usual sharp edges dulled. “You cannot bear the weight of your world every hour of every day. Even the strongest flame falters if it is not tended.”

The rawness of his words cut through your defences. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but your lips twitched as you tried to deflect. “You know,” you muttered, half-laughing as your head dipped, “getting tickled to death felt a lot less exposing than this conversation.”

His chest vibrated with a low chuckle, and when you glanced up, his smirk had returned, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I’m happy to oblige,” he drawled, his fingers curling against you as if preparing to pounce.

You shot him a warning look, though you couldn’t quite keep the corner of your mouth from twitching. “You wouldn't.”

“Oh, wouldn't I?” he teased, his hands still hovering ominously close.

"No," you shook your head, that twitch turning into a smirk. "I sat with you of my own free will. Trusting you. You won't jeopardise that."

The playful glint in his gaze softened slightly as he settled back, studying you with a quiet intensity. "The little rabbit may just be a fox after all," he mused, ceding his advantage.

He studied you for a good, long while, you both sitting in a comfortable silence as he traced idle patterns against your back, his thumb brushing your knee.

Finally, you swallowed your nerves, and broke the silence. "Thank you. For your help.”

You looked back to the table, eyes roaming over what he'd carved with your hand;

The name of a great warrior. He'd said. Renowned for wit, skill, and unmatched beauty.

"Runes are... actually quite beautiful."

He hummed softly in agreement.

You turned your head slightly, eyes still on the sharp lines. "What would my name look like?"

Then, you looked up at his face, and your breath caught.

His eyes were alight, faintly glittering from the flickering candle inside the artwork. Something between a smile and something far more satisfied curled onto his lips as he nodded at the runes.

"Exactly like that."

[mars-ipan]

i do love my family very dearly but the internalized ableism the men in here struggle with is. so much

[meowzfordayz]

revealing outfit prank — hashira men

Author’s Note: borderline 18+NSFW, but ~mostly just suggestive. 😉

revealing outfit prank — hashira men

Himejima Gyomei x Reader, Iguro Obanai x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader

Word Count: ~2,000

CW: explicit language, Fem!Reader, mild sexual content

Suggestion Fulfilled: You know those girlfriend pranks on YouTube where the girl wears a sexy/revealing outfit to out in? Can I have HCs of our Hashira with a S/O who tries to walk out in such an outfit? Of course, they respect her choice in wearing whatever she wants, but that outfit is too tempting...

~faqs~

“Hey babe, guess what I’m wearing!”

“Clothes…” 

—I mean, he’s not wrong 🙃

You huff, “Guess again.”

Gyomei pauses, wracking his brain for whatever else you could have on

“... not, clothes?” 🤨

“Well I’m not going out to dinner naked!”

“A cardboard box?” 😅

You can see his brow furrowing

He’s trying his best! 🥺

“So remember that slip dress I was describing for you a while ago?” 😏

His face warms as he recalls how you’d painted quite the picture of dainty ribbon details, an open back, and a satin hem that would barely brush past your thighs

He clears his throat, voice lower than before, “I remember that I encouraged you to buy it.”

He freezes, eyes widening, gaze focusing in the direction of your soft breaths, “You’re wearing it?!!!”

You giggle, he gulps

You can hear his inward groan 😩

“Isn’t it exciting?!” you squeal, stepping toward him, playful palms splaying across his chest as you grin up at his restrained expression, “I feel so pretty!” 😌

“You are so pretty,” he nearly growls, large hands settling promptly on your hips, “Maybe we shouldn’t go out after all.”

“Oh?” 👀

He chuckles as his fingers caress the silky, smooth fabric hugging your body, sensing the heat emanating from your bare, warm skin, eager to feel the curve and seduction of your spine, your shoulder blades, the tenderness of your nape

“I beg your pardon,” he rasps, an unfamiliar darkness in his tone as his fingers move upward to tug at your carefully tied spaghetti straps, tiny bows squished beneath the intensity of his touch, “I’m an adult, you know. I can have dessert for dinner.”

😳🥵🫠

—

“Gyomeeeiii!”

“My love?” ☺️

“I CAN’T POST THIS!” 😭😭😭

“And why not? Is my rizz too much for YouTube?”

“YES.” 😐

“You’re going out in that?” 🧐

You glare back, arms crossing over your chest

A not so subtle attempt to emphasize your tits 😌

Obanai not so subtly glances downward

“I repeat, in that?” 

“The hell is wrong with what I’m wearing?” you scowl haughtily, “I thought you’d like it!” 😞

Blinking in disbelief, Obanai rolls his eyes, amusement softening his judgmental expression 🙄

“I’m not a fucking idiot,” he grumbles, “Of course I love it,” glare returning as he points an accusing finger at you, “But the last time you went out in something like that you ended up stealing all of my layers because you got cold!”

“Well then wear more layers!” you quip cheekily

“That’s my line!” 😐

*sigh*

“Do you want me to change?” 😕

“Absolutely not!” he snaps, ears reddening even as he makes a disgruntled gesture, “But, please, grab a coat.”

“Are you fed up with me?” 🤗

You inch closer to him

His breath hitches

“No.”

“Are you suuure?”

You can hear his heartbeat now, can see the restraint in his hands as he keeps them firmly by his sides

“If we don’t leave soon, then I’ll show you how not fed up with you I am.” 🙃

You grin easily, lips grazing his earlobe as you murmur

“Obanai, I don’t think that was nearly as threatening as you hoped it was.”

He inhales sharply, stepping away from your sweet, sultry scent, feigning sullenness when he mutters

“Your tits are staring at me.” 😃

You laugh, bouncing on the balls of your feet just enough for them to jiggle slightly

“Or are you staring at my tits?” 😉

He audibly groans, head tilting backward as he averts his gaze

“I hate this.” 😒

—

Rest assured, you never make it to your reservation 🤫

The video never makes it to YouTube either

PornHub, however…

Jk, jk

And Obanai does not hate this 😏

“You are breathtaking!” Kyojuro declares, beaming with pride as you twirl for him

He’s doing his best to ignore the fact that he can see your lacey panties when you spin

“Thank you!” you smile, striking a pose for him, “I feel so amazing in this dress.”

“You are amazing in any dress!” 😁

He’s earnest with the perfect dash of seriousness — like he needs to know that you know you’re beautiful

A gentleman as always 🥺

You hesitate, feeling almost guilty as you ask slowly

“Am I only amazing?” 🤭

You hope you’re coming off coy and alluring 😅

For all of his awkwardness, Kyojuro is nothing if not straightforward

“You are also sexy! Most definitely sexy!” 😍

Your expression cracks, your giggling filling the hallway as endeared laughter accompanies you

“How sexy?” you wink, an exaggerated, playful flirtation

Fortunately, Kyojuro loves improv 😏

—Yes, and!

“The sexiest woman I have known, I know, and I will know.”

There he goes again

Earnest, serious, and almost unbearingly sweet 😭💘

“Kyo,” you persist, “I’m trying to seduce you.”

He grins at that, eyes narrowing so quickly you nearly miss the tantalizing glint that flashes through them

“Oh I am aware, sweetheart,” he purrs, gesturing with his index finger for you to twirl again

You do, oblivious to the way his jaw clenches, gaze thickens, your pretty, dainty panties on display for him once more

“Look at me,” he commands softly, relishing the dazed, dizzy, glowing color of your face, “Look at me, and tell me whether you have succeeded.”

You look

It’s impossible to miss his erection, straining against his pants, bulge teasing and beckoning you to come closer

—

You post the video, minus a sizeable chunk 😶

“So people are allowed to thirst over you, but not me?” ☹️

You snort as Kyojuro pouts, patting his arm consolingly, “You can’t really see anything when I’m spinning, but your dick is a little too obvious.”

He perks up at that, kissing your cheek with reassured confidence, “It is quite large.”

—Whatever makes him feel better, y’know 😆

—That being said, it is quite large 🫣

P.S. Kyojuro begs to differ; he can see plenty when you’re spinning 😃

Help this man 😵‍💫

He is TIRED 😮‍💨

—Don’t get me wrong!

Sanemi does his best to be a good sport 🥺

And he’s 1,000% watched your videos in “secret”, numerous times over; you are entertaining ☺️

On nights when you’re apart, he falls asleep to his Favorites list (which consists solely of you) on auto-play

But there’re just one (thousand) too many trends for him to keep up with, and he never knows when he’s going to be your ~victim again 🙃

“Is this another prank?” he sighs, only slightly exasperated as his eyes stray from your pretty mouth to your tits practically spilling from your top 🫣

“Oh, so now I can’t look nice without it being a prank?” you retort, scowling playfully, “Rude.” Raising his hands in mock defense, Sanemi smiles softly as you step closer to him

“You can touch me, y’know,” you murmur gently, “I’m not gonna break.”

Swallowing thickly, he lowers his arms, forearms hooking around your hips as he pulls you in

“Yeah,” he croaks, scanning the bedroom for wherever you might’ve hid your phone, desperation and desire bubbling in his throat, “But I’m not so sure about your outfit, it’s got so many strings and… and, holes.” 😃

You laugh cheerfully, squeezing his waist as you inform him, “They’re cutouts. They’re supposed to be sexy.” 😌

“They are,” he replies bluntly, stifling a long inhale as he willingly gives into his fate, “You are so fucking sexy.”

He’s already plucking at your shoulder straps, somehow boxing you in with his broad, chiseled body, even though it’s his back against the wall

“You’re not gonna ask me how I manage to avoid getting tangled?” you tease, your breasts pressed firm and warm into his chest as his heartbeat quickens

The question had occurred to him, but-

“Why the hell would I ask that when I could be untangling you instead?”

—

“Send me the video.” 😐

“Excuse me?”

You’re grinning

“Please.” 😞

He’s begging

You acquiesce, the thought of Sanemi jerking off to it later inspiring you to reach down again 😉

(Now imagine his faintly pained moan as you slowly caress him, valiantly hardening in your careful grip as he mentally prepares himself, this time intending to punish you; you can’t keep missing your reservations! 😤)

#the pranks are getting out of hand 😬

#but Sanemi can’t really find it in himself to be bothered 😶

#at least not when he’s already in something else 😏

“Why are you going out in that?” 🤨

“What are you implying?” you frown

“I asked first.”

You huff, “And your question offended me.” 😒

Grimacing, Giyuu glances downward, “I didn’t mean-”

“Do I look horrible?” ☹️

You almost feel badly, giggles brimming in your chest 🤭

“No.”

“Do I look too good?” 😌

You can practically see the gears turning in his head 

“Yes? No. Yes. Wait. I’m confused.” 🫠

“How does my outfit make you feel?” 😉

He pauses at that, swallowing nervously as you run teasing hands up your sides, accentuating your hips and bust

“I look good, right?” 🥺

“Of course.”

“Do I look too good?” 😏

*Giyuu Panic 2.0 activated*

“What does that mean?” 😭

He’s hushed, in awe of your luscious form, inhaling roughly when you step into his immediate proximity, the hem of your dress nearly brushing against his shins as you twirl for him

“Giyuu, am I turning you on?”

When in doubt, go for frankness

*Giyuu Panic 2.0 deactivated*

Ohhh 😳🙄😎 <— he gets it now

“Not at all,” he says smoothly, “You look quite comfortable.”

You pout, fingers curling into the collar of his shirt as you nudge his feet apart, slipping your leg between his thighs as you close the distance, your body pressing clumsy and hot against his

He sighs, a quiet, enraptured sound, delicately brushing the straps of your dress from your shoulders before he rasps, “I am turned on. Delightfully so.”

Your dress crumples sheer and light to the floor, Giyuu’s jaw ticking with desire as he realizes just how easily it slipped off

“And you,” he murmurs, delicious warning in his tone as he thumbs the undersides of your tits, “Are such a pretty slut.”

—

“Why is it that every time I try and prank you, you end up fucking me instead?” 🥲

“Hm,” Giyuu hums, voice thick with amusement, “Seems premeditated to me.” 🥴

“Giyuu-!” you sputter 🫣

“GiYuU!” he smirks 🙃

“Are you mocking me?” 😠

“And?” he grins 😎

“See if I ever prank you again!” 😤

“Oh you will,” he remarks, nonchalant and cool, “Judging by how many times we changed the sheets yesterday, I’m not even worried.” 😃

Ngl, Tengen’s a lil desensitized 😆

He’s got four wives

He knows you’re all hot af 😉

He knows he’s hot af 😎

There’s not much you can do to faze him

Except like, get injured or something, but that’s kinda the opposite of what you’re aiming for 🥴

“Does this mean we’re fucking after dinner?”

✨He has a way with words✨

“Tengen,” Hina scolds

“So vulgar!” Suma exclaims

“Don’t act so innocent when you’ve ambushed me looking like that,” Tengen mutters, pants already tightening as he takes in the silken fabric draped delicate and precarious over your breasts, “Who’s idea was this?”

“Whose do you think?” Makio snorts

“Tengen,” you say breezily, reaching out to grasp his hand, stroking a coy, tender thumb across his knuckles, “Let’s go, we’re going to be late.”

“Obviously,” he grunts, eyes shining with appreciation—a welcomed promise—as he raises your palm to his lips, kissing your fingertips one by one, “We’re not leaving.”

—

“Hold up, you made two reservations?” Tengen shrieks

Your eyes roll as if to say Duh, already rummaging for a new dress while Suma helps pat Makio’s back dry, steam from the attached bathroom wafting into the bedroom

“She’s always prepared,” Hina chirps proudly, kissing your jaw with a fond smile

“That, and Tengen’s always horny,” you smirk

You don’t really have a video suitable for YouTube 😅, but you do post Before/After photos of the ~prank on Instagram with a cheeky Unfortunately, the “During” photos are NSFW 😏🫢🍑🍆 caption

[highdefhoetry]

in the library.

cw: nsfw!! female reader, public sex in library (discreet), penetration (vaginal fingering), handjob, blowjob

summary: you’re desperate to stay quiet. he’s determined to make you scream.

There are only a handful of people in the library when you run into Zayne. You cross paths in the last aisle, where the “adult” novels could be found. You were trying to take a Nora Roberts book from the shelf when your hand brushed against something cold yet familiar. When you looked up, your eyes met those of your classmate. Well, former, back when you two were in the same gen ed course. He stood calmly on the other side of the shelf with a piercing gaze that sent chills down your back. 

“(Y/N),” he greets you with a slight nod of his head. 

“Dr. Zayne,” you awkwardly return his greeting, but when you look back to the empty space on the shelf, you find he’s already gone. He appears at your side in a heartbeat, his hazel eyes focused on the book you’re holding. 

“I’m not a doctor yet,” he corrects you.

“Haven’t you skipped a bunch of courses, though? You’re pretty much set to be one by the end of the year.”

“Unlikely. I still have a ways to go.”

Suddenly you become hyper aware of how close he’s standing. His shoulder brushes against yours as he takes the book from your hand in one smooth motion. You watch as his elegant fingers sift through the worn down pages, gently tugging each one at the corners. 

“For Now, Forever,” he reads the title. “An excellent choice.”

“You’ve read Nora Roberts?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“Well, yeah. I thought you only read boring medical texts.”

“That’s mostly true. But even I need breaks from my studies.”

“Breaks to read smutty novels?”

Silence. It seems you’ve caught him off guard. He clears his throat, and you notice his ears reddening a little.

“I was only curious about this one because it involved characters in the medical field,” he gives you a weak excuse. “I’m not a connoisseur of erotica, unlike some people.”

“Hey! Don’t say it like that. You make me sound like some kind of pervert.”

He chuckles softly at your expense.

“If I’m not mistaken, this novel in particular has a number of… graphic scenes,” he comments, his eyes drifting to your face in the process.

“I mean, yeah… all of her books are like that,” you say, trying to sound casual despite your heated cheeks. It was embarrassing having him comment on things like this so candidly. And by the way he was smirking, you could tell he was doing it on purpose. 

“You must have enjoyed these lewd scenes, too. Or else you wouldn’t have read it.”

A sudden streak of mischief takes over. You take a small step forward, closing the gap between you. His lips part as if he’s about to say something, but he remains silent.

“Speaking of that…” you tease. “Do you remember the part where they’re in the library? I think it went a little something like this…”

You place your hands on his chest, running them over his iron-pressed shirt to feel the muscles underneath. The hem is tucked into the waistband of his pants; you tug on it ever so slightly until it comes undone, allowing you access to his bare skin. He doesn’t stop you when you sneak your hands under his shirt, nor does he protest when you run your palms on his stomach. You hear his breath hitch slightly when you wander a little too low; as soon your eyes drift down and fall on the tent poking through his fitted pants, he suddenly grabs your hand and holds it firmly.

You look up again, locking eyes with the doctor in training, whose stony expression still hasn’t cracked. Although, he is looking a bit more strained…

“Zayne…?”

He pauses for a moment. Then, you see the corners of his lips curl up in a tiny smirk.

“...I remember it going a little differently.”

His steely eyes meet yours once again. You sense something deep inside them, struggling to break free, yet his demeanor remains as cool and controlled as ever. How many times have you wanted to break through that cold facade of his and curl up with the warmth of his heart? He hid it so well, but even the strongest armor had cracks. 

While you’re lost in thought, something flutters against your thigh, snaking up the hem of your skirt. The feeling makes your skin quiver, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle a small cry. Meanwhile, his fingers reach the lace edges of your panties and tug them down until they’re right above your knees. The sudden rush of cool air makes you shiver.

“Zayne…” you whisper, trying to keep quiet so you don’t garner the attention of the other visitors, or worse, the librarians themselves. You look around anxiously to make sure no one is nearby while his hands grope your thighs and hips. He takes his time feeling you up before finally caressing his cold hand on your outer lips. It makes you jump, but soon you feel a warmth spread through your body, fueled by his gentle circling of your clit.

“Shhh,” he leans forward to whisper in your ear, right before sliding a finger inside you.

You let out a tiny gasp, forcing back a moan as he curls his finger upwards, seeking out the elusive spot he knows will make you cum hard. He finds it and begins to stroke the spongy walls, slowly at first, then with a bit more force. All while pumping those beautiful fingers of his in and out, in and out, in a steady rhythmic fashion. It’s taking everything in you not to scream and moan. He chuckles as he watches your face twist in pleasure and your strained efforts to silence yourself.

“Mmm… mmph!!”

“Calm down,” he croons. “You need to stay quiet in the library.”

It’s the same thing the male lead had said to the heroine of the story. You remember it vividly, for you had pictured yourself in this exact scenario, with this exact same man. Zayne’s hands are quick and skilled; his thumb continues massaging your clit, putting just enough pressure on it to warm you up without bringing you over the edge. It’s driving you mad, how gentle yet forceful he is. He stares down at you from his massive height, lips slightly curved upwards in an amused smile while you fight to remain silent as his hands and fingers roam your body. Your heart has begun to pound so intensely you wonder if he can actually hear it.

You’re close. He can sense it, too. He chuckles again when you grab onto his arms, as if bracing yourself for impact. You squeeze your eyes shut as wave after wave of electrifying pleasures surge through your body. It’s taking everything in you not to scream. You force back every moan, only letting little gasps and groans escape when he hits you in just the right place. And from the grin on his face, you can tell it amuses him to no end.

A few moments later, you finally cum. You bite your lip, feel your eyes roll in the back of your head, let out fluttered sighs as you squirt all over his hand. He caresses your waist and hips, relishes the way you twitch and shudder under his hands. The orgasm made you extra sensitive, so every touch feels like cold fire. You open your eyes to meet his, letting your lips part as you take in large gulps of air while trying to regain your composure. His soft gaze makes your heart dance. He doesn’t say anything, opting instead to admire the sight of your flushed skin and relieved expression.

But his own expression soon turns to one of restraint. His gaze falters when he feels your hand grope the tent in his pants. You rub the tip with an increasing amount of pressure and smile when you hear stifled grunts emerge from his throat. His brows furrow slightly in determination, as if he is focusing all his attention on retaining his composure. But you see the mask slip when you unzip his pants and let loose his stiff member.

Still covered by black boxers, you sneak your hands into the slit in the middle and take hold of his shaft. He grunts softly, almost losing it when you begin caressing the tip and teasing the length of his cock. You start off slow and take your time fondling him, noting what makes him sigh and gasp and when his breath becomes more erratic, more desperate. 

You pause briefly to look around, once again making sure that no one is looking, before falling to your knees.

Before he can protest, you take his cock in your mouth and run your tongue along his shaft, stopping only to kiss and lick his tip before going on. The muffled sounds he’s making are delightful. His grunts start off quiet, but the longer you suck him off, the louder they grow. He grabs fistfuls of your hair, firmly but gently so as not to hurt you, and pulls you close until his cock is hitting the back of your throat. You suppress the urge to gag; it won’t be much longer until he cums.

After a few deep thrusts and more teasing from your mouth and tongue, he erupts his load into you, gasping quietly while still holding onto your locks. You taste his cum and swallow it all, savoring the warmth he’s given you. You slowly guide his cock out of your mouth and stand back up, smiling at him while his heavy breathing subsides. He zips up his pants with a relieved sigh, as if he just released a lifetime’s worth of stress.

“Well?” you whisper. “How did it end, again…?”

Zayne looks down at you with eyes full of affection, taking your chin in hand and gently pulling your face up.

“I believe it went like this.”

He kisses you softly, and his icy exterior melts in your hands.

[saerins]

[ ೀ pucker up, buttercup | itoshi sae ]

ೀ content: female reader, fluff, sae and reader are adults, pet names (sae’s choice of words are stupid/idiot, calls reader ‘my girl’), alcohol, slightly suggestive at the end. | wc 1.5k | notes: okay did a very quick drabble for sae for christmas !! merry christmas to you guys <3

ೀ summary: being sae’s girlfriend is tough. there’s a lot of things he can’t make time for, and unfortunately this time, it’s you. but somehow, he always pulls through.

it’s christmas eve and you’re at your company function, looking at the fruits of your hard labour.

the event hall is decked with christmas decorations; stockings lining the walls and corresponding to different names for everyone’s secret santa to gift accordingly, christmas lights surrounding every table, everyone getting their fair share of the catering you’d arranged.

“this is amazing,” your boss gushes as she excitedly throws her arms around you. she’s only a few years older than you, so it’s not all too surprising that she’s always super friendly with you.

“relax on the alcohol, okay?” you joke with her, smelling the liquor already.

she pouts at you, batting her eyelashes. “oh c’mon, are you still upset that your boyfriend couldn’t make it for christmas?”

you sigh, though you keep a strong front, smiling through it. being the private girlfriend of an international soccer superstar is tough; he has to miss holidays and special occasions and more often than not you can’t even get your calls through because he’s just that busy. you’d been excited for this year’s christmas though, because he had said he’d be able to fly back home this time.

but as it turns out, his manager—who so happens to love overworking him—has other plans. so all of that excitement just went down the drain. still, what else can you say to him other than good luck with it? you knew being his girlfriend was going to be tough, but it’s starting to take a toll after feeling like you barely exist in his world.

still, you stare at the message he last sent you.

i love you.

and you go soft. soft, because you know he means it. soft, because despite everything, you believe in the man you fell in love with. the one who gave you your first kiss back in high school, the one who’s so awkward that even initiating to hold hands last time had his entire face beet red. the one who never fails to assure you that in spite of the distance, he’s always still thinking of you.

you fiddle with your necklace, the promise ring sae gave you when you were back in high school sitting around your neck like it always has.

in between all the long distance arguments and the time differences and the i miss you, wish you were here with me, you still find yourself hopelessly in love with itoshi sae. even when your friends say they can’t imagine being in your shoes, even when numerous tabloids love to put models or athletes as your competition, you know there’s still no one else you’d rather be with than him.

“i’m fine, really,” you assure your boss, prying her off of you and then adjusting her so her arm is around your shoulder as you lead her to her stocking. “here, why don’t you busy yourself and see what your secret santa got you?”

you really just want to distract your boss so she wouldn’t accidentally end up throwing you a pity party. all you want to do today is to make it through it, spend the first hour of christmas day rounding up the party and then get home and sleep your day away. it’ll distract you from the absence of your boyfriend anyway.

as you watch your boss happily open up whatever’s in her stocking, you wonder if your secret santa got you anything. (of course, some secret santas are dicks and end up not getting their person anything.) so count yourself lucky when you open up your stocking to find both a gift and a card.

amused, you rip the card out of its envelope, your heart skipping a beat when you see that inside of it, there’s a picture of you and sae as high school kids, beside each other, his face deadpan while you’re grinning from ear to ear, resting your head against his shoulder. the message reads: i love you so much it’s stupid.

you’re still in shock but you open up the little gift box, maroon with a green bow on it. when you see what’s inside, you can’t help but chuckle.

holding it above you, under the light, you can see the words hey, stupid engraved on the side of the fake mistletoe before feeling a warm pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, cold lips catching you off guard as they press themselves against yours.

it fills you up inside, takes all the weight off your shoulders. you’ll recognise him anywhere, without having to look or hear, the way his lips feel against yours, how he holds you gently against him, laughing softly against your lips as you pull him closer to you by the collar.

never in your wildest dreams did you expect to see your boyfriend in japan, let alone at your work party of all places, and now here you both are, kissing under the mistletoe.

“woah relax there,” he teases you, pulling away but still holding you close.

he’s here, he’s actually here. his hair’s in a mess, and there are circles under his eyes, but he’s smiling. he’s smiling at you and he’s here with you and you don’t even feel the tears forming in your eyes because you’re too busy relishing in the moment.

“itoshi sae,” you call out to him, your hands patting on his body, his black coat and his scarf are real and he’s here—he’s really here. “i thought you were too busy to come back…”

how long has it been now since you’d last seen him? a year? perhaps longer? he’s been so busy nowadays that you wondered at one point if he would even come back to you at all.

sae sighs, holding your cheeks in his hands as he presses his forehead against yours. “i’m sorry,” he says tensely, shaking his head slightly. “i was away for so long, and i just…” his teal eyes stare into yours, both your eyelashes dancing against one another. “i missed you, and i just wanted to see you.”

you’re laughing in disbelief, still holding him close because you’re just that afraid that this’ll all be an illusion that might soon slip away. “and they just let you off like that? that simple?”

he presses his lips into a firm line, averting his gaze. “let’s just say that they weren’t happy about it but i’m the important one, so…” he smiles, genuinely, putting an arm around. “they don’t have a choice but to let me come home to see my girl.”

turns out, he’d called in a favour to your boss, asked her about christmas plans because he knew from your texts that you were in charge of putting it all together. and then he asked her to put the gifts in your stocking. and you laugh hearing about it, because you’re thinking of how your life could’ve gone a totally different way. you could’ve gotten into a relationship with someone else who wouldn’t do this much for you, wouldn’t make time for you, wouldn’t travel across the world and put their own things down all in the name of meeting you.

“what’re you thinking about, stupid?”

you look into his eyes, shaking your head. “nothing, it’s nothing, i just- i love you, itoshi sae.” you smile, and sae smiles too because he loves how your smile reaches your eyes. and he loves being the reason you smile so he’s going to keep being that—and he makes a promise to himself to make you happy for life. but maybe that’s a gesture for next time. right now, he just wants to spend the rest of the holidays with you.

the clock strikes twelve, and he steals the mistletoe from you, holding it up between the two of you again, wincing from how cheesy it is after he does it, earning a chuckle from you.

“merry christmas, idiot.” and he kisses you again, long and slow and completely oblivious to everyone else that’s there who are staring and clapping—half of them still in awe that the itoshi sae is here and half of them in shock after putting two and two together that he’s your special guy.

“so, you’re gonna be here till new years’?” you ask in between kisses.

sae nods, “at least, why?”

you grin, pulling him by the belt as you lead him out of the event hall. “think it’s time we get home and just spend it between the two of us, yeah?”

sae laughs, letting you drag him along, wondering whether by this time next year, will he be lucky enough to call you his wife?

but when he sees that promise ring he gifted you still nestling snug around your neck, he has no doubt. you’re each other’s for life. and you’re worth every single risk he has to take.

[tonyboneysblog]

curiosity kills the cat: one shot!

parings: Touya x reader

word count: 1.3k

notes: this was originally gonna be a part in a fanfic I was cooking but i genuinely could not figure out how to write childhood friends with Dabi’s crisped ass.

warnings: none!

summary: Touya always sees kissing in movies, all dramatic and lovey dovey, is it really his fault that he wants to try it on you? just to see how it feels of course!

“this movie fucking sucks.”

“language Touya.”

currently, you were at the treacherous Todoroki household.

Why? You may be asking.

Because you wanted to watch a movie, 27 dresses specifically.

Unfortunately for Touya Todoroki, he’s your only friend to watch the movie with.

now the two of you have been friends since pre-school, kids bullied you- Touya saved you.

you stuck around him after that, much to his dismay.

“Why would you make me watch this garbage.” Touya says harshly.

You huff loudly, “to see if your cold, dark heart had anything in it.”

Touya giggles at your little comment, you liked his laugh.

you wanted to watch this movie for a week, practically begged Touya on your knees for him to even watch it with you.

Touya doesn’t enjoy cheesy rom-coms.

He’s made that quite clear throughout this whole movie.

when the two main characters tried on the dresses he complained.

when they went to the bar together, he complained.

when the characters sang at the bar, he complained then too.

yet when they kissed, Touya didn’t even open his mouth.

“yuck- want me to skip?” You say for Touya’s sake.

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking, “nah, it’s just a kiss.”

“What- you’re suddenly cool with lovey dovey stuff now?” your face is set perplexed.

Touya shrugs, “I see it in TV all the time, why should I care?”

You hum softly, “adults kiss too much.”

Touya hums in agreement, his foot starting to steadily tap.

the movie continues, you catch Touya scoff at one of the movies jokes, he seems to be…actually interested.

but that damn tapping won’t stop.

Doesn’t his leg get tired when he does that?

Finally, at the end of the movie the two main lead get married, and the main actress has her 27 bridesmaids.

cute movie.

“Did you like it Touy?” you ask with excitement bubbling inside your chest.

He responds bluntly, “No- terrible movie.”

“Liar- that was the most I’ve ever seen you pay attention to something!” You point an accusing finger towards him.

Touya swatted your finger away, “I was waiting for the guy to murder the girl.”

“What?!” You retract your finger quickly.

Touya shakes his head as if it were obvious, “He had serial killer vibes..”

You sit there on the couch utterly silent from the words that just came out of Touya’s mouth.

His brows furrow slightly, “What?”

“Nothing, weirdo..”

Touya melts into the couch, picking up the remote and scrolling through the streaming apps choices.

“Any thing else you’d like to watch?”

“Being a gentleman I see?” You hum.

Touya chuckles softly, never responding.

The room is on a comfortable silence for the moment, aside from Touya tapping his foot against the glass table his feet are propped on.

Touya’s foot staggers, “Why do you think adults kiss?”

“Because they like it.” You answer quickly.

Touya shakes his head softly, “yeah but why, why do they like it?”

“Why would I know the answer to that.”

Touya glares at your for a moment, “oh please- your parents basically make out all the time when I’m over.”

“So that means I should know why they like it?” You pick at the fur blanket that was thrown over you prior to starting the movie.

Touya hums a small, “yep” before his foot starts to tap again.

“Didn’t think you were so affected by the kissing scene…” you say under your breath, Touya heard anyway.

“I-I wasn’t affected, I’m just curious on what’s so good about it.” He says quickly, the tapping increasing.

You seriously doubt Touya’s even looking at the tittles on the screen by how fast he’s tapping the remote button.

“Well I wouldn’t know…”

Touya stays quiet for a moment, thinking.

probably about something stupid.

“We could know.”

yep, something stupid.

“What you implying Touya?” You elbow his ribs, making him yelp.

“Ow- I’m saying that…nevermind.” Touya rubs his ribs softly, dropping the remote next to you.

“I mean…you’re just curious right?”

Touya looks up at you, the tapping gets faster.

“Yeah- Why…?”

You pick up the remote, looking it over to act like your doing anything else other that what your about to do.

“We could- do it..” you say quiet and soft.

Touya doesn’t respond, the tapping stopped at least.

suddenly, Touya grabs the remote from your hand- setting it aside.

“We could.”

Great, now you’re forced to look at your best friend.

“Yeah?” You say barely loud enough for Touya to pick up.

Touya nods, his foot starting to steadily tap again.

You cup Touya’s face with your hands- oh gosh are you really doing this?

Touya places his hands on your lap, truthfully he has no clue where to put them.

the taps get faster.

You and Touya look at each-other for a moment, just to make sure you don’t absolutely ruin your friendship.

More like a “you really wanna do this?” stare.

but hey, you were curious.

so was Touya.

1 + 1 = 2.

Two kissing more specifically.

“Jus’ do it already..” Touya says quietly, his face growing red.

You press your lips to Touya’s, it was..nice? soft? kinda gross.

Touya’s lips were quite soft actually, he’d wear chap stick like he’d wear clothes though- he hated dry lips.

Touya’s hand steadily went to your cheeks as well, only difference was his were a lot warmer.

At some point, Touya’s tapping stopped.

you a Touya didn’t though, it’s normal for friends to experience things together- how is a kiss any different?

Your cheeks felt so warm.

wait no- that’s Touya’s quirk.

You starting patting Touya’s thigh as a signal to chill out.

And he got the memo, only after a minute.

You and Touya were only slightly out of breath- you might have 1st degree burns on your cheeks though.

“M’sorry…?” Touya says with his dumb cracky voice.

“you burned my cheeks.” You say curtly.

Touya groans, “I didn’t know I activated my quirk!”

“I’m never kissing you again.” Your tone gets slightly aggressive.

Touy burned your precious face though- so he deserves it.

“I said I didn’t-“

A sudden laughter breaks through Touya’s speak, one that didn’t belong to him.

You whip your head to the door way only to see Touya’s siblings, Natsuo and Fuyumi.

Natsuo is holding onto his stomach, dying with laughter while Fuyumi looks mildly disappointed- more like embarrassed.

“Touya-nii…” Fuyumi says softly.

Touya’s face goes completely red, even reaching his ears.

“You didn’t see a thing.” Touya says sternly.

Natsuo laughs more as he grabs Fuyumi, “dude we saw everything!”

Fuyumi covers her face and Natsuo starts to re-create the scene.

“Oh-la-la! Y/N please kiss me I’m so desperate!” Natsuo says through his giggles.

You can see steam coming from Touya as he jumps over the couch to get to Natsuo.

Natsuo sees this and starts to book it.

So now you have a wild Touya and a trouble making Natsuo in the house.

Fuyumi looks at you, then runs to her room- poor girl doesn’t even wanna face you.

how are family dinners your invited to supposed to go now?

curiosity kills the cat you suppose.

and you are the cat in this situation.

EP:

“Mrs. Rei, this is absolutely delicious!” You say while crunching down on whatever Touya’s mother made for the night.

Touya hums in agreement, basically halfway through his second plate.

Natsuo chuckles before speaking, “maybe you should ask her for some cooking lessons Y/N- mom’s experienced.”

Rei smiles softly, “thank you, Natsuo.”

Natsuo immediately gains the most devious smile you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Maybe some kissing lessons as well, since you and Touya like that too.”

Immediately silence hits the table.

Touya immediately slams his blow onto the table.

Natsuo runs for his life down the hallway as Touya almost jumps over the table to catch him.

As soon as the boys leave the room your met with a stone faced Rei.

you clear your throat.

“Fuyumi can vouch for me, me and Touya would never do something so sinful!”

Rei chuckles softly, “Fuyumi told me when I came home…”

You whip your head to Fuyumi as she takes her leave, doesn’t wanna face your wrath.

you look towards rei again, sweating bullets as you hear Natsuo screaming bloody murder from two rooms over.

“w-we we’re just curious!”

AN: yall need smth after whatever the hell that episode was😭

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;

word count: 7.9k...

part i; part ii; part iv

Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin.

With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.

You learned early on to rely only on yourself.

While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages.

You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into that situation.

You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible.

It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group.

Kie, Pope, John B…weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a weird balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.

At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence.

You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in your life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the fucking chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.

Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst.

It was a burden you bore proudly, protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity.

While others your age worried about stupid matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without. 

You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending beating in his eyes.

You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream.

You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it. 

He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going.”

You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”

Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, you knew that. His expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.

"It's for your own good," his tone was condescending, like you were a child, “You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”

Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.

"It’s my life on the line too. And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”

His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains in your room, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”

"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”

“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.

“This isn’t a game,” he said, clearly growing frustrated with your stubbornness, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair. 

“They chew up people like you.”

 “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

He knew that.

And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty. 

“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”

You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”

He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”

You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait."

You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.

"What now?"

His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”

"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.

"Change of plans."

Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing in the small space. 

"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, “Let me out! You can't do this!"

His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”

"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no clipped answer from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing.

He was gone, the stupid bastard.

You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.

In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different.

Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning. 

You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, the frame sturdy.

That’s it! 

You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.

And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.

It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances.

Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was strong enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building. 

You gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building.

Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel. 

You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations or politeness.

"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, “It’s important.”

He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and thrusted it into your hand.

"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”

So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him.

Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before running out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time. 

You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.

The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline pumping in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?

"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”

With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a moment.

You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”

He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.

You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra. 

"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.

"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"

“So? Give me yours!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?

“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”

His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”

You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”

“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp,“You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”

“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”

Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”

Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm.

“Show me.”

“Uh?”

He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

The sudden changes in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.

“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”

“What?!”

“I said point it at me,” he repeated, “C’mon.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at his chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.

“Good,” Rafe nodded in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”

“What the hell?! Rafe?!”

“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?

But Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. He was being dead serious.

Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, but now?

“I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”

With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened.

Oh. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.

Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”

You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him.

You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you. 

“Try again.”

This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.

“Atta girl.”

“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”

“I know,” Rafe conceded as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck.  “I panicked, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go. 

“Okay.”

"Let's go.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”

Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into, again. The events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.

"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."

Rafe nodded solemnly, "Yeah.”

"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."

“We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to believe him.

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”

He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere.

There were more important things to worry about. 

You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives. 

God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.

The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream.

You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.

What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you. 

And then there was Rafe.

The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.

“You good, Maybank?”

You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully. 

"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt.

“I don’t know.”

He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.

It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“They’re about you.”

"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you. 

Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."

Your brows pulled together, “What is?”

He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?" 

He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”

Oh. 

You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you

It was a lot to process, and you handy had the time to figure everything out yet.

His fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you. 

“You should’ve told me before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin. 

You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."

His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it. 

You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up.

It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears. 

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you had been feeling deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead.

All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“We shouldn’t…”

Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating. 

You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead.

Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.” 

You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security. 

“Night, pretty Maybank.”

You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making. 

You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”

“I can’t sleep.”

His hold tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”

It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again.

“Turn around.”

You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him. Was he telling you to spoon him?

“What?”

Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”

With a soft sigh, you did as he asked, turning onto your side to face away from him.

He moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like some kind of shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin. 

“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

These were dangerous waters.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right. 

An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you moved again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.

Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.

His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.

His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his hoarse, “’M right here.”

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head.

Rafe's reaction was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.

“Tell me to stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.

You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”

You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"

You swallowed hard. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted.

You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."

You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire you needed to reach.

One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.

You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”

You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts turning to mush as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”

Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.

The rhythm he set was maddening.

His breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.

He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Ra—You’re gonna make me come,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.

At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”

His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised,“Want to feel you dripping around my fingers.”

His words sent you spiraling, the buzz inside you building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your pussy.

Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.

Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.

The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.

“Shit shit”, you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”

“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”

He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length. 

Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven.

Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he tried to control himself.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, “So perfect.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.

“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.

He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in.

His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.

“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so so close.

“I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.

“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”

Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him. 

Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You tryn’ to kill me, pretty Maybank?”

You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”

Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix.

Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn grew into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.

“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.

You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.

You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.

A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole.

The taste of him filled your mouth, cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours.

The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.

You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.

“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”

You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.

“Oh god, Rafe, I’m s-so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“Come for me, pretty. Wanna to feel you drippin’ all over my cock.”

That was all it took.

With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe, jaw slack open as his hands never left your body.

As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips tender. He murmured soothing words and you swore you were on cloud nine.

You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth. 

But as the pleasure subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.

"Rafe," you called, “Need to feel you come inside me."

His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass,

"Watch your fucking mouth.”

The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.

Rafe's eyes snapped open,"You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."

You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.

You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.

"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel your cum."

The pet name did it.

With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.

The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his ass as he drove into you in a mean mating press. His pace was relentless, like he’d die if he stopped.

The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, only amplified the passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.

"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."

You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Come for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."

"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising.

And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. Your own body still buzzed with the aftermath of your pleasure.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that left you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as his lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss so different to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but you broke, and a sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you weren’t feeling so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else.

He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up anxiety.

"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering, "I know, Maybank," he whispered,"I’m scared too.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?"

He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."

“But it’s wrong.”

“I know, pretty.”

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.

“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you a little strength.

After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.

Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.

“Promise.”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℋ𝒾𝒹ℯ 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈ℯℯ𝓀

req: for dad!cowboy!jj, I can imagine a day where he plays hide and seek with his daughter but can't find her. at first he refuses to call reader but ends up having no choice. while they are having an argument, they realize that their daughter just fell asleep in the corner (I don't know, I find it so cute 😭😭)

Req by @nemesyaaa ❤️

After a long day of rounding up horses, cleaning, grooming, and feeding them, Jj wanted nothing more than to just lay down and relax.

Of course, his daughter had other plans.

He sat down on the patio with a cigarette in his hands, when she came outside.

“Daddy, pleaseeeeeeeeee!” She whined, gripping onto his large fingers with her tiny hands. Just when he began to relax she came outside, wanting to play.

He sighed, finally caving and standing up, muttering a “fine.” And opening the door for her, both of them going inside.

“Okay, you seek, and I hide.” She pointed to him, he just gave her a small nod and put his hands over his eyes, starting to count out loud as she squealed and ran around the house.

You were sleeping while they played, finally getting a much needed break.

As JJ finished up counting, he glanced around the living room, but he saw no traces of her there. He pulled back curtains, opened and closed doors, looked underneath tables.

He had been practically tearing the house apart trying to find her, he silently panicked right next to your sleeping form, pulling at the roots of his hair and running a hand down his face.

He looked for 30 minutes, thinking he doesn’t need you, and she’s probably somewhere crazy. Hopefully. He thought, he didn’t need your help. This is a child. He’s an adult.

His worry grew even more as time passed, and he had no choice but to ask you for help, he soon realized, even if it shattered his ego a little.’

“Jesus- y/n, y/n.” He repeated, gently shaking your shoulder. You moaned, turning to him and grumbling out a “what?”

“Don’t get mad. I was playing hide and seek wit’ her, and I swear, I looked everywhere, I can’t find her. It’s been 30 minutes.”

You were wide awake now, looking at him with wide eyes and standing up quickly.

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know where she is? Did you lose our daughter?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t lose her. She’s just… really good at this damn game!” He defended with a huff.

“How the hell do you even lose her?!” You asked, already going outside the room and tearing apart the place.

“I didn’t lose her!”

“Yeah, you did!”

“How the hell was I supposed to know she’s a hide and seek God?”

“Or maybe her father just sucks at hide and seek.” You shrugged, continuing to tear apart the place until you saw something in the corner of your eyes by the kitchen.

You sighed in relief, stopping your movements, he followed your gaze and also sighed in relief, mumbling a thank god.

“What? I swear I looked there.” He said when you gave him a pointed look, you rolled your eyes and both went over to where she laid down.

He picked her up in one scoop, carrying her back to her room and tucking her in, pressing a little kiss on her forehead.

“Guess she must’ve gotten tired after a little.” He shrugged, shutting the door to her room quietly.

You shake your head at him. “You’re cleaning this place up.” You told him with a smile, pointing to the living room.

“Oh, come on!” He whisper yelled. “I’ll do anything, pleaseeee don’t make m- and she shut the door.” He sighed, looking at the messy living room.

“Maybe I really am pussy whipped.” He muttered under his breath as he started to clean the living room.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

if vendetta!leon actually got his vacation

pairing: vendetta!leon x reader

cw: masturbation, p in v, oral

wc: 880

Vendetta!Leon is gross. A complete perv. To make matters worse, he’s too drunk to care most of the time. Let’s say he finally does get his vacation, he treats himself to a trip to a fancy island resort. He’s sitting by the pool, drinking some ‘girly’ cocktail like a pina colada when he sees you walking by. All the way on the other side of the pool, but he’s not that old, he’s still got his eyesight, still gets to drool over some girl in a skimpy bikini. Young, but not too young, maybe 21 or 25. He knows you told him the night you met at the bar where he spent most of his week lurking.

You were there with a group of friends for your special birthday trip, which meant that your bikini was barely concealed by a sash with ‘birthday girl’ written on it in tacky glitter, which matched the tinsel in your hair and the sparkles on your cheeks. You looked like a walking disco ball, not that Leon minded, since he was more focused on what was under the two tiny triangles of fabric that clung to your chest, damp and chlorine-scented. The bikini bottoms are akin to a g-string, so there’s really nothing left to the imagination there. Leon’s surprised the bartender didn’t tell you to come back with pants on, but maybe he was enjoying the view too.

Leon’s really glad you didn’t change your outfit. He did, though, not just because he can’t stand the wet bathing suit feeling, but because after he’d seen you at the pool earlier that day, once he’d cataloged that image of you in his mind, he went up to his room and jerked off to the thought of you. No particular fantasy, he didn’t really get that far - the moment he locked the door, he fell back onto the king sized bed, whipped out his already hard dick, and got about three pumps into the regular routine before cumming on his swimsuit, as well as the fresh sheets underneath him.

At the bar, he convinces you to do karaoke, and everyone is cheering you on no matter how badly you do, and maybe it’s because you look better than anyone else in the room even when you fuck up or because everyone is wasted, including you and Leon (duh). Somehow, he manages to have you begging him to dance, and his hands are on your hips, which are firmly pressed against his and he knows that you can tell he’s rock hard at this point. Either you’ve decided to continue to humor him because he’s cute in a pathetic sort of way or you’re into gross old men, either way it’s his lucky day.

Before they shut the place down, he’s deciding where he’ll fuck you because he’s pretty sure it’s going to happen at this point. Leon used to be hot, he knows how these things go. You take him back to your room, which is probably the best choice since the stain on his sheets would be a turn off, but it’s also a bit inconvenient because you’re staying across the hotel, on a high up floor. So, you end up making out in the least visible corner of the lobby and he’s already got his fingers inside you by the time you’re in the elevator. If anyone catches you, the wetness dripping down your thighs is just pool water. It’s an adults-only resort anyway, so who cares? At least, Leon hopes it is, but his memory is a little foggy at this point in the night.

Leon’s lucky that he’s old and drunk - and that he’s already gotten off earlier in the day - because it means he’s able to last longer than five minutes. To you, it’s probably a nice surprise, especially when boys in their early 20s always cum too quickly. With your ex, you were lucky if he so much as got the tip in before blowing his load. Leon can actually fuck you. It’s sloppy, sure, but he has a nice dick and he knows what he’s doing. He has enough experience to rely on muscle memory and increased stamina from the adrenaline rush he gets from this level of arousal.

He’s also enthusiastic about eating pussy, which is a real novelty. When he does, it’s even sloppier, the sound of him tonguing you down is borderline disgusting, but that’s what makes it better. You’ve shaved or waxed since you don’t want hair showing through your bikini bottoms, which only makes things easier for Leon, can’t get any hair in his mouth. You can feel his facial hair against your skin, and will probably end up with stache-rash on both sets of lips, but his stubble grazes your inner thighs and it only enhances the pleasure. That, coupled with the tip of his nose that rubs against your clit perfectly, give him a leg up in terms of pussy-eating. Say what you will, but that nasty old man still knows what he’s doing when it comes to the bedroom. 

[lavendermin]

jing yuan praying everyday for a good few months that yanqing will randomly tell him that you got divorced while in class meanwhile you’re wondering why jing yuan started looking so miserable every time he comes to pick yanqing up😭

godddd this poor man someone have mercy on his heart. For like a whole two months straight he’s constantly asking Yanqing about how class went only hoping he’ll get some crumb of information on you and your love life and your very-much-nonexistent baby. That poor 5 year old is an informant without knowing it.

But I mean, theres only so much information he’ll get from a 5 year old.

“How was school?” Jing yuan asks, again. As is routine now. But Yanqing doesn’t really notice the eager way his father listens.

He shrugs, swinging his feet in his little dinner table chair. “I drew an apple house and learned to write some words.”

“How about your teacher? Still sick from her baby?”

Yanqing shrugs.

“Teacher stares at the door for a lot of seconds when you don’t pick me up. Like how you stare at the ceiling sometimes after dinner.” (Also known as Jing Yuan’s sulking hour as he thinks about you and Yearns™)

It’s never enough for him to gauge the situation—no hint of divorce in sight. (You’re not married of course but he doesn’t know that.) And maybe that makes him feel worse. Why is it that the image of you plagues his mind. If he wasn’t media trained for his company to hell and back he would hardly be able to face you when he picks up Yanqing sometimes. It’s becoming more rare, not by choice but by the uptick in the end of quarter work.

Jing Yuan is definitely more curt and polite, a little stiff, now when he picks up Yanqing. And if you notice it you don’t bring it up.

Poor kid hears Jing Yuan mutter something about divorce and the next day in class he flat out asks you what divorce means. The blood drains from your face and your heart sinks thinking maybe his parents are going through divorce right now.

Ah, that would explain his father’s sullen mood, you think. You have no clue he’s a single parent already. Misconstrued views all around and now poor Yanqing thinks these two adults just need to play house and communicate like he does with his classmates during recess.

Maybe you need a little parent-teacher conference soon…

[gigabyte-flare]

He Comes Alive (Part 1)

Summary: Dropping out of college and moving back in with your parents is embarrassing when you live in a small town, where news and rumors spread fast. You have a chance encounter with a man that just moved into town, not realizing your life is about to get a lot more exciting.

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, implied kidnapping, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A/N: It was only a matter of time before I did a vampire au. I wanted to do a twist on Las Plagas where it turns people into vampires, also I was very much inspired by @nexysworld's vampire!Leon bot (which is excellent huehuehue). This fic takes place in the late 1980s, so canon stuff is completely thrown out the window so if that's not your thing, kindly move along.

Oakvale is a fictional town nestled in the heart of New Hampshire's White Mountain region and based heavily on my own experience growing up in small town New England. Shout out to my fellow New Englanders! 🥰

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

Title inspired by Jason performed by The Midnight

Line break Divider by cafekitsune

You stand at the end of the walkway leading up to your childhood home in Oakvale, New Hampshire, holding your luggage in one hand. You take deep breaths, preparing yourself for a nasty welcome home. You can still hear your father’s rage filled voice from your phone call a few days prior. You had decided to drop out of college. You were failing your classes and you couldn’t cope with hectic college life. Your mom, on the other hand, while disappointed in your decision, understood that this was your choice and that you were an adult now.

You had gone to college at the University of Illinois majoring in accounting under your father’s strict guidance in hopes that you would graduate and then run the finances for his car repair business. He was only going to help pay for college if you majored in accounting, so you had agreed begrudgingly. You were terrible at math and hated working with numbers, it was no wonder you were struggling.

You collect your thoughts, exhale loudly and approach the front door, wheeling your luggage behind you. You stand before the front door, giving it a few light knocks. You hear movement inside the house and the sound of your mother yelling down that she is coming. The front door opens and you’re greeted with your mother’s smiling face; a very welcome sight, beating the alternative.

“Sweetheart!” your mom exclaims, wrapping her arms around you, “how was your flight?”

“It was alright, I was able to sleep most of the way,” you reply as your mom leads you into the house. 

You glance into the living room as you walk into the house, seeing your father watching the weather channel. He won’t even look at you or acknowledge you. Your mom sees the distress in your face. She stands in front of you, grasping your arms gently.

“Pay him no mind, sweetie, I’ve given him strict instructions to not talk about college with you. Give him time, he’ll get over it,” your mom lets go, continuing to lead you to your bedroom, “he needs to understand that you are an adult and can make your own decisions. He knew going into this that you hated math, it’s his own fault for pushing you so hard.”

You're comforted by your mother’s words as the two of you reach the precipice of your bedroom. She opens the door for you and you are met with your childhood bedroom, exactly how you left it before you went off to college three years ago: floral bedding, light pastel pink walls, matching white furniture and boy band posters and polaroids of you and your friends attached to the walls. You make a mental note to redecorate, but that can wait until later. 

Later that evening, you join your parents in the dining room for dinner. Your Mother made your favorite: pasta in tomato sauce with kielbasa, squash and zucchini. Despite the fact it was late September, the family garden was still providing fresh vegetables. At first, you all eat in silence; you don’t dare make eye contact with your father. He seems to be too absorbed in the newspaper anyway. After agonizing minutes of silence, your father finally speaks to you for the first time since you came home.

“I got you a job at the gas station, you start Monday.”

You stop mid-bite, looking at your father dumbfounded before glancing at your mother, who smiles at you. He’s referring to the one gas station in town, just on the edge of town leading to the highway.

“Th-Thank you, Dad… that’s very kind of you…” you say before continuing your meal.

All the while, you hear the TV that’s still on in the living room, playing the news, “Fish and Game is still searching for 25 year old Alicia Walker, who hasn’t been seen since Wednesday when she told her family she’d be hiking up Mt. Lafayette--”

“Oh dear… they still haven’t found that hiker, Mick?” your mom says, looking over at your father.

Your father shakes his head in dismay, “nope. Seems to be happening a lot lately, that’s the third hiker in about a month, too.”

“Hikers are going missing?” you chime in before chewing your food.

“Unfortunately. That’s what happens when you go hiking in the Notch unprepared. Promise me you’ll never hike alone,” your father says to you in a stern tone.

“Of course, Dad, I’m not stupid.”

“Good,” your father replies with a nod before he continues eating, “pasta’s delicious Sandi.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The weekend goes by in a flash and, before you know it, it’s Monday; your first day at your new job at the gas station. It’s an easy enough job, just working the cash register as people come in to buy things and get gasoline for their vehicles. What your father had failed to tell you, however, is that he got you the late shift: 6:00pm to midnight. The day shift person, an older woman named Peggy, who also trained you briefly, let you know that police officers often stop in at night to check on things, giving you some comfort. Oakvale wasn’t a bad town by any means, but this gas station was also close to the highway; anyone could come in.

That is made apparent when the chief of police himself stops in around 10:00pm, Chief Robert Dion, but most people in town just call him Chief Bob or just Chief. He was a burly man with a large mustache that he used wax to curl the ends; he almost looks like a cartoon character. His hair and beard are starting to show his old age. You recall he’s a nice man; you smile at him from behind the cash register as he walks through the door.

“Chief Bob! Long time no see!”

“Well, hey there little lady! Mick told me you were working at the gas station now! When did you get back into town?”

“Friday afternoon. I’m… not cut out for college, I guess…” you reply, your tone becoming morose.

“Hey! Don’t get down! Take some time to yourself and try again.” he says, leaning up against the counter on one arm. 

“Thanks Chief. What’s the latest gossip in town? I’m sure I’ve missed a ton in three years.”

“Mostly about those missing hikers. I’m sure you heard--”

The sudden roar of a motorcycle cuts him off as a Harley Davidson motorcycle pulls up to one of the pumps outside before cutting the power. You watch from your peripheral vision as the driver gets off the bike. You draw your attention back to Chief Bob.

“As I was saying… I’m sure you heard about the missing hikers.”

You nod, “yeah, it was on the news when we were having dinner on Friday.”

You hear the electronic chime on the door go off as someone walks in and that’s when your eyes settle on what is quite possibly the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life. Tall, with short blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a leather jacket with worn denim jeans and work boots. Chief Bob moves out of the way to let the man come to the register. Your heart can’t help but race in your chest as your eyes are locked on the man.

“Can I get $5 on pump uh…” the man leans to look out the window at the number of the pump he parked at outside, “four?”

“S-Sure, of course! $5 please,” you reply, kicking yourself internally for stuttering. 

The man pulls his wallet out from his back pocket, setting down a five dollar bill. Your eyes drift to his hands to check to see if he’s wearing a wedding band on his left ring finger; you don’t see one. Shifting your gaze back up, you see that his eyes are suddenly locked on yours; he gives you a playful smirk and winks before he turns to walk out.

“You’re out awfully late,” Chief Bob says to the man as he walks by.

“Had some errands to run. Take care Chief,” the man replies before walking back outside to fill his bike.

Your eyes are once again locked on the man before Chief Bob’s voice draws your attention back, “I think that’s the guy that bought ol’ Archie Mason’s place about a month ago.”

Archie Mason. Now that’s a name you haven’t heard in a while. You knew him as Mr. Mason, a curmudgeon of a man that lived on a dead end road in the woods by himself in town. As kids, you’d dare each other to go to his house, knock on his front door and see who could run the fastest before getting caught. Mr. Mason hated children.

“When did Mr. Mason die?” you ask as you get the $5 bill the handsome man gave you into the cash register. 

“I think… two years ago? The house finally went through probate and was sold. That guy moved in and has been fixing it up ever since. Usually see him at Rocky’s.”

Rocky’s is a hardware store in Oakvale, a popular spot for all the younger and middle aged men in town, right up there with Moe’s bar, which was conveniently right next door to the hardware store. You hear Chief Bob talking to you still, but you can’t focus. Instead, your attention is on the mystery man pumping gas into his motorcycle, your heart all aflutter.

You wake up around 9:30am Wednesday morning, shuffling over to your closet to put on some clothes. Afterwards, you go into the bathroom to fix your hair, brush your teeth and put your makeup on. All the while, you can hear your father hard at work in the garage on someone’s car through the various open windows in the house. You decide to pay him a visit after you get yourself put together.

You go outside, walking over to the adjacent auto repair shop, stopping to glance up at the sign hanging off the building: Mick’s Auto Repair. Every business in town had this unspoken rule that their business had to have their name in it; Mick’s Auto Repair, Rocky’s Hardware, Moe’s Bar and Grille, Sally’s Sew Shop, just to name a few. You continue walking, walking into the shop through the open garage door.

“Hey Dad!” you call out, looking around before seeing your father’s legs sticking out from under the car he’s working on. 

You watch as he rolls out from under the car, his face, clothing and hands covered in oil stains. He looks up at you, his eyes squinting from the sun leaking into the garage. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.

“You didn’t tell me Mr. Mason had died.”

“Oh… yeah… died in his sleep. The old fart was 92. Didn’t really come as a shock to anyone.” your dad replies, rolling himself back under the car.

“Do you know anything about the guy that bought the house?” you continue to pry, crossing your arms as you look down, addressing your father’s feet. 

“Yeah, his name’s Leon, I think. Moved in from D.C. if I heard right. What about him?”

“Oh… nothing… he came into the gas station the other night…” you reply, your voice trailing out as the butterflies stir up in your gut thinking about him.

Leon… that suits him, you think to yourself. 

“Now don’t you go getting any ideas, the last thing you need right now, young lady, is to be distracted by some boy. He’s too old for you anyway-- oh fuck!” your father curses as you hear something snap from under the car, rolling back out with a broken wrench in his hand.

“That’s not good,” you comment, watching as your father shoots you a glare. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh, “can you run over to Rocky’s real quick and get me another one? I’d go but I’m caked in oil. Don’t need Rock yelling at me for tracking oil into his store again. I’ll pay you back.”

“Sure, no problem! I’ll be right back!” you say, heading back into the house to grab your purse from your bedroom. 

You grab the broken wrench from your father so you make sure to get the right one and head out. The hardware store is about a 15 minute walk from your house, so you decide to just walk, enjoying the crisp hair and sun of early fall. Coming upon Rocky’s Hardware, you step inside, a bell hanging off the door ringing as you walk in. 

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t Mick’s little girl! How’s it going, sweetheart?” Rocky says from the cash register. 

Rocky is another older man, medium build with a head full of gray hair and a big, bushy gray mustache.

“Hey Rocky!” you reply as you pull your father’s broken wrench from your purse, “Dad broke another wrench, sent me to get another one for him.”

“Jesus… they don’t make them like they used to, do they? Aisle 6 dear, on the left.” Rocky says, gesturing into the store.

“Thanks Rock,” you say before proceeding to the aisle in question; however, when you turn to walk down the aisle, you stop dead in your tracks.

Leon, the man from the gas station the other night, is standing in the aisle looking at hardware, which is on the opposite side of the tools. You stand there, staring at him like an idiot, your heart pounding in your throat. As if sensing your presence, the man turns to you, giving you that same smirk from the other night.

“You’re that cute girl from the gas station,” he says; it wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

He remembered you. He also called you cute, making your stomach twist in anxiety. 

“Y-Yeah…” you manage to say before working up the courage to walk into the aisle to look at the tools.

Leon’s eyes stay on you as you approach, watching as you draw your attention to the tools.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a hardware store?” he asks playfully, you can hear him smirking as he moves to stand next to you.

“Oh… my Dad broke his wrench. He asked me to get him another one.” you reply, trying desperately not to let your nerves get the better of you as you show Leon the broken wrench. 

“Oh dear! Let’s see…” Leon starts as he looks up at all the different tools, reaching up to grab one of the wrenches hanging off the display, “this one looks like the same wrench, here you go.”

Leon hands you the new wrench, his fingers lightly caressing yours as he pulls his hand away, a gesture that is not missed by you. You feel your cheeks flush as you tuck the broken wrench back into your purse.

“Thank you mister…?”

“The name’s Leon Kennedy. But please, just call me Leon.” he replies, making eye contact with you, “what’s your name?”

You pause for a moment before you practically stutter your name out. You watch as Leon smiles at you, his eyes taking you in as he looks up and down at you.

“That is a lovely name,” he says, the compliment hitting you straight into your core; you feel your panties become slick.

“Th-Thank you… you have a nice name, too.”

Leon gives you a gentle pat on your shoulder, “I gotta go pay for my stuff. Hopefully we can see more of each other, yeah?”

You stare at him in awe for a moment before nodding, “Yes! I… I’d like that, too…”

He gives you a wink before he turns to walk out of the aisle and up to the cash register, where you hear him make small talk with Rocky. You are frozen in place in a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. You wait until you hear the bell on the door ring before you go up to the register to pay for the new wrench. 

You couldn’t get home fast enough, your entire being a bundle of nerves. Once you get home, you walk through the open garage door to give your father the wrench. You find he’s not in the garage, so you walk back into the house, only to find him standing in front of the TV in the living room, watching the news.

“Dad, I got the wrench--” you begin to say as you cut yourself off, seeing there’s a breaking news report playing on the TV, “what’s wrong?”

Your father turns to you, his look is forlorn, “another hiker went missing, they were last seen Monday.”

That night, after getting home from your shift at the gas station, you toss and turn in bed, unable to get comfortable. You can’t get Leon off your mind. Tossing your comforter off you, you lay on your back, propping your legs up and spread them as your right hand dips under the hem of your underwear, your fingers finding your clit to rub slow circles into it.

As you lose yourself to your own pleasure you moan Leon’s name softly, closing your eyes to picture the way his beautiful blue eyes looked up and down your body earlier today, the way his jeans hugged his slender hips. You could almost smell his leather jacket. Your fingers pick up the pace on your clit, causing your hips to buck into your fingers as you chase your high, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning loudly. 

You turn your head towards your windows, slowly opening your eyes, only for your breath to be caught in your throat as you spot a pair of glowing red eyes peering into your window. You watch as the eyes suddenly dart away from the window, thumping sounds quickly following. You quickly pull your hand out from your underwear and practically jump out of bed to your window, throwing it open to look out. You look around, seeing nothing in the darkness. Your bedroom is on the second floor, it couldn’t have been a person. People don’t have glowing red eyes.

You take deep breaths, realizing your thoughts are only psyching yourself out. It was just your imagination in the heat of you getting yourself off, you decide, before you shut your window, locking it. Just in case. You walk back over to your bed, collapsing into it, your arousal having been scared out of you, so you quickly drift off to sleep.

Part 2

[noodle-is-unstable]

Left Breathless

All of my writing is completely Gender Neutral Reader. There is no reference to gendered body parts (Imaging a Ken Doll if you will). Due to this I use more vague language, and nothing is as specific or specified. Please be advised this writing style isn't for everyone and it is okay to skip.

Ft ~ Toji Fushigiro x GN!Reader

Kink ~ Choking/Erotic Asphixiation

Synopsis ~ Toji thinks you talk too much. In reality you just love how you look with his hand as a collar.

Content Warning ~ 18+, Smut, choking, air restriction, fingering, penetration, raw sex, cumming on back. Idk Adult Content.

2.8K Words, I don't proof read

“We should sneak out of here” Toji whispered into your ear.

“You’re the one that agreed to this.” You chuckled but truthfully you were seething.  There you were, on a double date, sat across from Shiu and his latest fling.  It wouldn’t have been bad if it was a normal double date but Shiu and his date were basically making out across from you.

“I’ll never do it again, promise.” Toji kissed your cheek, trying to drag your attention away from the PDA.  That was a lie though because he said this every time but somehow you’d always end up on a double date again.

“Shiu uses a lot of tongue.” You commented, both disgusted and fascinated.  “Alright, let me go pay and we can head out.” You whisper back to him.

“Wait, Shiu said he’d pay.  Wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Tojis brows furrowed.

“I know.” You smirk, holding up a black card.  “Swiped his card earlier.  I think our handler owes us a nice bottle for the night after subjecting us to this.” Your smile was devilish.

“God I love you.” Toji’s scarred lips turned up before you winked and skipped off.  You went to the bar side of the restaurant.  It wasn’t your usual scene, after all there were no fights happening.  Soft music played, the bar had backlight shelves and bottles to the roof.  Boujee.  Not as nice as the places Shiu takes clients but he was definitely trying to show off.  Hesitantly you took a seat and waited for the bartender to notice you.

“What can I get for you?” He walked over, cleaning a glass.  This whole thing felt foreign.

“Bottle of scotch, anything $300-$500, aged at least 10 years.” You ramble off.  Truthfully you just wanted to run Shiu’s card up a little.  Cheap wine and spirits were fine by you.

“Any notes you prefer?” The bartenders seemed more cheery at your expensive order.

“Musical.” You chuckle to yourself.  “I don’t care, dealer's choice.” You shrug.  The bartender nodded and started examining the shelves.

“Buy you a drink?” A man sat down beside you.  He had on a full suit with a loosened tie, unremarkable at best.

“Not if you know what's good for you.” You remark, turning your attention anywhere but him.

“Come on, one drink can’t hurt.” The man urged.  Not taking no for an answer, another red flag.

“Oh but I promise it will.” You sigh.  This was no longer amusing and the bartender was taking too long.

“One drink, nothing more, nothing less.” The man began to lean in more.  

“How about much less.” Your eyes flicked to the man, dark and warning.  He didn’t take the hint as he flagged down the other bartender and began to order.  This is why you hated places like this.  How long does it take to grab a bottle?  But there he was examining each one like it mattered.

“Drink up.” The man slid a glass towards you.  Why was there orange peel in it?  Why would you pay for a drink to have scraps in it?  Why didn’t it come with the orange at least.

“Didn’t agree to the drink.” You went to slide it back when an arm snaked over your shoulders.  Bad move.  The glass in your hand collided with his face, breaking his nose and most likely causing lacerations.  Glass shattered everywhere as people began to scream and panic.

“You need to learn to keep your hands to yourself.” Your foot collided with the man's ribs, cracking underneath the impact.  “If someone doesn’t say yes, that means no.” You reached over the bar to pour literal salt into his wounds.  “And another-” You were suddenly over familiar, broad and muscular shoulders.

“Shouldn’t touch what isn't yours.” Toji barked at the screaming man before he started dragging you away.  As you were being dragged off your eyes met your handlers.  Disappointed but not shocked.  You threw his card back at him, hitting him in the forehead.  At least you had some fun and entertainment tonight.

“I ever tell you how hot you are when you’re crazy?” Toji asked, placing you in the passenger seat of the car.

“Sometimes, but you aren’t much for words.” You bit your lip, thinking for a moment.  “Why don't you show me instead?” You could see his eyes darken as he started the car.  The ride was quiet.  Toji’s hand on your thigh, squeezing every now and then as he tries to focus on getting home.  He wanted to speed, to rip through the backroads but he knew if he got pulled over things would only take longer.  Shiu was spamming you with messages about having to pay people off, and not being able to take you anywhere but you could only focus on the man beside you.  The only man you had eyes for.

The instant Toji put the car in park and you were unbuckled, you were being dragged over the middle control, through the driver's door.  He has to save precious seconds to savor you oh so sooner.  You couldn't help but giggle as he threw you over his shoulder, slapping your ass.  He moved at an inhuman pace to unlock the door and rush you to the bedroom.  He threw you on the bed, making you bounce slightly as he looked you over, hungry and needy.

“So tell me why you assaulted him.” Toji purred, crawling on top of you.  Toji was a possessive man, not a jealous one but a possessive one.  He didn’t need to be jealous, he knew you only had eyes from him, but he loved to claim you as his.

“He tried to buy me a drink and didn’t take no for an answer.” You bit your lip.  His eyes looked over your every feature like it was the first time again.

“And why did you say no?” Toji gently kissed your jawline, eyes never leaving yours as he patiently waited for the words he craved.

“Because I’m yours.” With those simple words Toji could have sworn he almost came.  Such a simple phrase but filled with so much love.  His weight pinned you down as he began to bite and suck at your neck.  Leaving marks, HIS mark.  You couldn’t help but moan as he sucked on the spot just below your ear.

“Just one more time babe, whose are you?” His voice came out almost desperate, holding your face to look at him with both hands.

“I am yours Toji.” You could see the hearts in his eyes as he looked at you.

“And I’m all yours.” Toji purred, his scared lips connecting with yours.  For as rough as he seemed, Toji was actually very soft and gentle, especially when it came to you.  He pressed himself into your leg, grinding and begging for friction as you kissed.  His lips became needier.  Moving faster, choosing this kiss over breathing.  Parting his lips his tongue flicked at your lips, begging to be let in.  You eagerly opened up, inviting him in.  Your tongues swirled together, fighting for dominance, a fight you always let Toji win.  He tasted peppery, but with a slight sweet note like strawberry.  It was your favorite flavor in this world.  It was only when both your lungs were burning you pulled away from the searing kiss.  A spit strand still connects you both as you panted, needy and desperate.

Toji grabbed the hem of your shirt and began to pull it off.  You happily sat up, allowing him to remove your shirt before doing the same to his.  It was a sight you’d never tire of.  Like he was crafted from marble, a Greek god made for you.  Toji was no better, licking his lips as his eyes examined your bare chest.  

“Gunna do something or just stare?” You breathed out, feeling a little too observed under his sharp gaze.

“You talk too much.” Tojis lips found yours again.  His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, sucking and pulling at it as he continued to rut into your thigh.  His cock was so hard it was bruising.  You couldn't help but to reach down and grab it through his pants.  The grunt that Toji let out was like music to your ears.  He was panting into your mouth and humping your hand all the while.  It was only when you gave him a squeeze he pulled back and moved your hand away.

“Toji.” Your brows furrowed with a pout.

“Not yet babe.” Toji groaned as he adjusted his member.  He began to leave sloppy kisses down your neck, shoulder, collar bone, until he was level with your chest.  Lolling out his tongue he began to lick all over until he hit your nipple.  With a soft gasp from you, he latched on.  Sucking, flicking his tongue and gently nibbling.  His hand moved to knead the flesh around your other one.  He loved the soft whimpers and gasps you let out, squirming under his touch but his heavy body kept you pinned.  

“Toji, please.” You whined, hands lacing through his raven locks.  A sharp bite came down before he released all together.

“I told you, you talk too much.” Tojis hand moved to your throat, squeezing it lightly.  You bit your lip in excitement.  This wasn't the first time Toji had choked you, in fact you often begged him to.  The almost high feeling you got from being choked was euphoric.  Your eyes immediately started to roll back as Toji applied pressure, but as soon as it came it went.

“Toji.” You pouted, desperately trying to push his hand back into you.

“Eyes on me.  If you can’t keep your eyes open and on me, you're not getting choked.” Toji’s voice was demanding.  This had two purposes, to ensure you were still coherent and conscious as well as the fact Toji loved eye contact.  You desperately nod, begging for the restrictive sensation to return.  A deep chuckle escaped Toji before he obliged, squeezing down on your throat.  You fought to keep your eyes open, on him.  The feeling was just too good.  Your head felt light, like you were floating, it was hard to swallow and only shallow breaths could escape you.  Even so, you desperately keeped your eye focused on your boyfriend.

Toji lifted his body off of yours, making sure not to remove his hand from your neck.  His other hand began to undo your pants.  You helped him, lifting your hips, as he slid both your pants and underwear off in one swift motion.  Once your pesky clothes were out of the way he returned to his place, hovering over your chest, body between your thighs.  Placing two of his digits in his mouth he coated them in a thick layer of spit.  His lips went to your untouched nipple, giving it the same treatment as your other one.  It was his other hand you were focused on through.  The way it slid between your thighs, straight to your entrance.  His fingers circled it, coating it in his spit to lube it.  Such small, teasing circles, barely hovering over it.

“P-pl.” Was all you could choke out.  A pitiful begging attempt under the grip Toji had on you.  He knew what you wanted though, and he was more than happy to oblige.  One thick finger slipped in, setting an agonizingly slow pace.  His mouth was still sucking and nipping at your chest, sure to leave his mark there too.  His finger curled up into you, causing you to gasp, barely any oxygen reaching your lungs.  Then his second finger slid in.  Toji’s fingers were thick, only two was enough to cause a stretching sensation.  It was the way he spread and curled them inside of you that had you moaning under bated breaths though.  Your eyes never left his, as breathy mewls spilled from your lips.  His tongue flicking on your nipple as he stared into you had you fighting to keep your eyes open.

“To-ji.” You choked out.  He knew what you wanted, what you were begging for.

“Cum for me then.” Toji growled, biting down on your chest as he hooked his fingers into you.  You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back as your orgasm washed over you.  Gasping for air as your body pulsated around Toji’s fingers.  His grip on your throat loosened, oxygen returning to your lungs as a headrush appeared.  Your body felt like it was floating on nothing.  

“Look at me.” Toji urged you softly, wanting to make sure you were still coherent.  As you gasped, your half lidded eyes went back to him.

“More.” Was all you could pant out.  His deep laughter filled the room.

“So needy.  Roll over.” Toji instructed you.  It was like instinct, his command making your body move.  You flipped to your stomach, face in the mattress and ass in the air.  You could feel movement and the sound of his pants hitting the floor.  His dripping tip tapping on your ass.

“Ready?” Toji asked, moving to tap his tip on your entrance.  Spit and precum mix together as he waits for your response.

“Please Toji, please fuck me.” You mumble, face half in the mattress.  Toji didn’t move though.  You moved your head more to look at him and when your eyes met his you realized what he wanted.  Eyes on him.  No words were needed as he began to push his tip in.  It was no surprise that Toji was huge, but even after all this time it was still astonishing.  Even with prep he’d stretch you out on him.  Slow, small thrusts.  Slowly inching his way into you until his hips were flush with your ass.  

“First things first.” Toji hisses through gritted teeth.  You were just too tight, too warm and too wet.  His small piece of paradise inside of you.  Toji leaned over top of you, his weight deepening the arch in your back before his arm hooked around your neck.  Your neck sat in the crook of his elbow, being squeezed between his bicep and forearm.  Everytime he flexed it limited your airflow more.  A dumb, fucked out smile sat on your lips as he angled your head to look at him.

“Blink twice if you're not ready, three times if you are.” Toji kissed your cheek.  Glossy, dazed, eyes that he couldn’t help but want looking at him.  Through wet lashes, you blinked three times.  A low rumble escaped him before he pulled out almost completely, hips snapping back into you all at once.  Rough, fast, and desperate.  Toji was setting a relentless pace, your ass rippling every time his hips reconnected with you.  His bicep flexed with every thrust, giving you small waves of oxygen.  Drool fell from your lips, swallowing was too hard.  Toji’s thick tip pounded into your sweet spot with every thrust, sure to bruise your insides.  Toji’s tongue licked at your falling spit as he continued at his animalistic pace.  High pitched whines squeaked out, tears began to well in your eyes.  It was too much, too good, so intoxicating and euphoric.  The thick knot forming deep in your core was almost painful.  You needed to release, you needed to cum.  All you could do was give Toji pleading, glossy eyes and begging whines.  Toji knew that look and could feel how you were consticting his cock.

“Fuck, C-cum for me babe, cum on my cock.” Toji grunted between thrusts, chasing his own release.  Your tongue fell out of your mouth as your eyes rolled back.  For only a moment you saw white and your ears rang as you came, and hard.  Toji’s hold on your neck was quickly dropped, hands moving to your ass to fuck you impossibly faster through your high.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Toji chanted with every thrust, fighting the urge to cum, wanting to feel you milk his cock for just a moment more.  He couldn’t hold out though.  Toji pulled out, fisting his cock until hot cum coated your back.  Thick and so much, he painted your back white with his mark.  Somehow Toji seemed more breathless than you were.

“Shit, you okay, can you look at me?” Toji asked, nothing but care in his voice.  His hand came down to move the hair out of your face and gently stroke your cheek.  Your body didn’t want to move, your eyes seemed to be the only thing that could.  You looked up to him, face half in the mattress still.  Fluttering blinks were all you could manage, fighting to keep your eyes open for him.

“Come on, I’ll clean you up.” Toji chuckled, hearts in his eyes as he looked down at you.  Gently, he scooped you up, kissing the top of your head.

About the Kink: Choking/Erotic Asphyxiation is the intentional restriction of oxygen for the sake of sexual arousal. This can be done through strangulation (chocking, ligature, or other), volatile substances and/or chest compressions

How to Practice the Kink Safely:

With any kink it's important to have a safe word, action and sound. The action is in case it's not possible to be verbal. The sound is incase it's not possible to make words or move. Pick something easy to remember and wouldn't come up naturally. Eg. Red, 3 fast taps, 3 repeating grunts

This is a dangerous kink and should not be practiced alone. 250-1,000 people pass per year in the USA alone from this kink. It is vital safety signals are put into place and the one doing the choking is constantly checking in to ensure the one being choked is conscious and coherent. If at any point the one being choked seems unresponsive or incoherent, the restriction of oxygen should immediately stop. When choking pressure should be applied to the side of the neck, the veins and arteries, rather than the trachea itself. Pressure can be added to the trachea to enhance this kink but it should be noted that damage such as bruising can occur. If using ligature (like a belt, collar, rope, etc.) make sure there is a knife or scissors nearby in care of emergency. It is also recommended that the one choking knows what to so incase consciousness is lost. CPR can be beneficial for this kink as well.

[xoxoamyas]

party of our own

rating : suggestive themes towards the end [ 16+ ], fluff leaning, petnames used on reader [ toots and sweetcheeks ], jealous schlatt

jschlatt x gn!reader

☆ in which you're at a party with schlatt and things don't go as planned. at least you get a kiss out of it? <3

note : i don't usually write for schlatt, so i hope that you enjoy !

request [ ☆ ]

masterlist [ ☆ ]

[ Prompts : 53. a breathy demand: “kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond + 62. sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss ]

⋆˙⟡

Parties weren't usually your forte.

Schlatt had been invited to one, getting a plus one in the process, and ultimately, you ended up tagging along. You weren't sure how the party would go, considering you didn't usually bother with them.

As you mostly stuck to Schlatt's side, you were fairly quiet compared to the music that blasted through speakers. Grown adults acting like teenagers as some either danced along, shouted drunkenly over the music, or nursed their -likely alcoholic- drinks. Or all three at once.

You were starting to get antsy from where you stood besides Schlatt, who had been talking to one of his friends. You hadn't paid much mind, focusing mostly on trying to tune out the stimulating music so effectively, your entire surroundings. That was done mostly by either looking around the area nonstop or at Schlatt like you're in a daze of awe.

He hadn't dressed up too nice, just in a casual outfit. But his hair was put up into that one bun that would usually make your heart skip a beat. Suddenly, you’re ready to be done with everything happening around you. You moved one of your hands, your finger looping around one of the belt loops to Schlatt’s jeans with a slight tug. A silent notion to get his attention and essentially say that you’re getting fairly bored and ready to go home, or at least leave the place.

Schlatt simply tries to wave the motion off, having moved one of his arms to wrap around you and rest a hand on the small of your back. It was clear he hadn’t gotten your message, but at least he gave you some form of physical attention.

It takes a while before you do anything else, having just leaned against his side a bit for support until the guy he's conversing with finally walks away. You hadn't been listening to whatever he said his excuse was, so you paid the guy no mind.

“What's wrong, toots?” Schlatt suddenly asks, voice low in your ear as he had leaned over just slightly to whisper to you. It made some shivers run down your spine, but you played it off by moving to hold your arms as you leaned against him.

“I'm ready to go, baby.” You spoke in a tone equal to his, as you moved your head to look at him more properly.

“If you want to head out, then go. I've got some other friends I need to catch up with.” He slightly grunted moving to remove himself from you so that you could easily move. The action only served to make you frown as you moved to hold onto his shirt with one of your hands.

“I thought we were going to hang out tonight, though.” You tilted your head just slightly, watching as Schlatt sighed and nodded. He glanced around for a moment before placing his hands along your waist.

“And we can still hang out, just later at home, m'kay sweetcheeks?” He raised a brow in question, though it was obvious it wasn't fully up to debate. You knew you had a choice to stay or wait for later, though. It just went unsaid.

“I can wait for you to be done.” You ultimately decide, which makes Schlatt frown for a moment but ultimately nods and agrees.

In an instant, you have to bite your tongue to hold back verbal disagreement as his hands are removed from your body. You just let him, mostly continuing to stick to his side as he moves on to talk with another friend.

Of course, you don't stay by his side for much longer. Straying off a bit to see if they had any water or soda that wasn't doused with alcohol in it. The kitchen has an island counter with a couple shamelessly making out on it, making your face twist up in discomfort.

Your look for soda proved successful, grabbing a solo cup that had been left untouched and poured yourself some soda from the bottle. Ignoring the sounds from the couple, you just move on with yourself, solo cup of soda in hand as you found a place to sit in that had been relatively clean. Which just happened to be a vacant loveseat that was actually more comfortable than it looked.

You sat there for the better half of an hour, slowly sipping your soda and letting time pass. Someone had joined you at some point on the loveseat, some girl who was definitely under the influence of something with how comfortable she was just talking and leaning against you.

At some point, Schlatt had finished talking with some of the guys at the party. He'd set out on a search for you, only to eventually find some girl practically trying to size you up. Of course, you were oblivious as ever to her futile attempts whatsoever.

“Hey, who's your new friend?” He asks as he steps along your side of the loveseat, his hand resting along the back of it in a near tense manner. He loves the way you look at him when you tilt your head back to see his own face properly.

The girl doesn't seem put off by his words or tone of voice, simply smiling in a doped out manner. She simply squeezed your arm with a wink before getting up and walking off to find somebody else to bug.

Seeing the action alone made something in Schlatt short circuit. Momentarily, he considers going after the girl before realizing how it would look if he tried to argue or fight with her. Instead, he just huffs air through his nose and proceeds to yank you up from the loveseat, uncaring of the small sound of surprise that came from you. He hadn't been listening to what you said, anyway.

“Kiss me,” He demanded in a low tone, suddenly uncaring of just how public they were. Schlatt needed the reassurance that something like that hadn't torn your feelings from him, even if it was a minor thing.

“Right now?” You ask in a surprised tone, completely caught off guard by the sudden switch he had. It was almost hard to understand, not initially realizing where this newfound disquiet mixed with agitation came from.

“Right now.” Schlatt slightly grumbled out, one of his hands moving to wrap around your waist in order to pull you closer. You don't let him kiss you, placing your hand over his mouth and effectively separating where your lips would have connected.

Your nerves crawled over you, making you glance around at the other party people. You knew your relationship wasn't a secret, but it wasn't entirely public, either, considering Schlatt liked to keep the relationship to one another.

Anybody could recognize him in some way.

You grasp one of his hands into yours and move to walk, guiding him away from the practical centre of the party. Finding a way to a staircase that led up, taking the flight with him easily following behind you. It was easy to tell the bedrooms of the house were off limits, or just in use, so you took a moment to spot the bathroom.

You hardly have enough time to get a word out when the door clicked shut, suddenly having been pinned. Schlatt’s arms were on either side of your body, effectively keeping you in place. You hadn't even heard the click of the lock as your eyes remained on his.

“Don’t make me say it again.” Schlatt had a slight grumble to his tone, clearly wanting that kiss without too much work from his end. He just wanted this for reaffirmation that you were still his.

Your hands found their ways to his face, cupping his cheeks, and you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. Practically holding your breath as you felt the hairs of his moustache against your own upper lip a fair amount. Your hands going over the mutton chops he had, having refused to get rid of them on multiple occasions, as you held more of his jaw than anything else for now.

The moment of what seemed to be intimacy remained, though Schlatt was quick to take charge without hesitation. He had moved you with ease, making it so you sat atop the sink counter as he kissed you without hesitation. He ends up catching you off guard with a pinch to your side, making you let out a slight sound of protest to which he uses as an entry way for his tongue into your mouth.

You two essentially stayed there and made-out, both now near uncaring of the party and the music downstairs. It was nice, you had to admit, the way he kissed you almost feverishly. It wasn't often that it happened, but when it did, it always made those butterflies soar high in your chest.

When the kiss finally seems like it's done, you're both catching your breaths, Schlatt’s forehead pressed against your own. Before you could wiggle out of his grasp to get down, he clicks his tongue with a tisk. The sound made you automatically pause yourself as you looked at him attentively.

“Did I say we were done, toots?” He uses a low tone that sends shivers down your spine. You slowly shake your head no, feeling yourself freeze when one of his hands finds it spot along your neck.

“Everybody at the party's gonna know who you belong to.”

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors with Benefits: Part 7 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge @hellishjoel

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Words: 3500

Triggers: Smut

You’re my girl. The word went off like an echo in your mind all day long. You’re my girl. You’re my girl. You’re my girl.

Did that make you Joel’s girlfriend? You weren’t sure; but it was good enough for now. More than good enough. You went from low to high in the matter of a few softly spoken words.

You sat at the kitchen table, typing away at your laptop as you filled out job applications that matched your career choice in the immediate area. As you submitted several over the course of an hour or so, your mind began to wander and you thought about how your adult life could unfold.

Get a job. Turn it into your career. Continue to see Joel. Things get more serious. Both of you are making decent money. You move into the house next to your parents with him - after your parents finally approve. You get married, have babies and your parents can see their grandchildren whenever they want because they’re one-hundred feet away. Everyone lives happily ever after. The end.

You tried not to get ahead of yourself, but that day you allowed yourself to indulge in the fantasy. Joel had eased your mind just enough when said those words to you; and you knew he meant them. From what you could honestly tell, Joel was just as wrapped up in everything as you were.

As you were about to hit the submit button for a job in the next town over, you suddenly paused upon reading one crucial detail that hadn’t been a part of previous applications: You will be staying overnight at the academy for a four month period.

Staying overnight, hmm. You thought about it for a moment and then closed out the browser. That just won’t work.

Mentally, you were all in. A short time ago you couldn’t wait to start your career, find an apartment and get on with adulting. Now, things had changed; but you knew that was part of life. You had two things in mind, and both of them could be achieved, you knew. Still, you acknowledged there were some obstacles to be cleared before the happily ever after could happen. One, Joel’s divorce needed to be finalized. Two, you had to eventually tell your parents you were seeing your older, still-married neighbor.

Those can wait. You smiled, not letting your inner monologue bring you down. I need to decide what I’m wearing to dinner.

Joel sipped on a glass of wine and stared across the way. You were dressed in a classy black dress and your best jewelry. "You’re too good for me," he said with a grin, making you laugh.

You shook your head. “I’m way out of my league with you.”

Joel shook his head again and grinned wider. “Maybe we’ve both met our match then.”

“Maybe.” You raised your eyebrows and smirked at him, tapping your glass against his and leaned closer to him as you rested your foot on top of his under the table.

"Here are your salads," a waiter whipped in, laying plates down in front of each of you and refilling the empty glasses of water beside your wine. "Your meals will be out shortly."

"Thank you.” You politely nodded and the man nodded back before wandering to another table.

"Thanks," Joel echoed, and then quickly regained your gaze.

You took a sip from your wine and gently smacked your lips. His eyebrows raised and he looked down at his plate with a smile when he felt your foot travel up the inside of his pant leg along his calf.

Joel chuckled to himself and then looked back up at you, promptly throwing his napkin down over his lap. “You're going to get us kicked out of here,” he teased.

You forked a small bite from your salad and stopped rubbing your foot against him. A smile formed on your face. “We wouldn't want that.”

"Don't tempt me.”

You laughed lightly and teased him back, whispering. "The things I want to do can wait until we get home."

Joel had to keep himself from laughing out loud as he sported a big grin. He leaned forward and spoke quietly. "You could always tell me about it."

“I thought we were supposed to have a serious talk,” you whispered, still grinning.

“Oh, is that why you keep rubbing your foot against my calf?”

You laughed a little louder and then looked around the immediate area, seeing that no one was paying attention. You then returned your attention to Joel.

"I could live with getting kicked out of here," Joel added with a wink as he rounded up another bite of lettuce. "Just sayin'..."

"You bring out my worst," you joked with a smile, never breaking eye contact.

"And you bring out my best, honey." He smiled back. "That's why I think this is going to work.”

You wanted to lean across the table and give him a kiss but rather you reached for his hand on top of the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I want to be with you.” There… you said it. You said the words out loud that you had been wanting to say; and to say you were pleased by Joel’s immediate response would be an understatement.

“I want this, too.” He nodded, never breaking eye contact, “I think about you just about every second I’m not with you; and I don’t know if that’s ever happened to me quite like this.”

“Me either.”

“You’re young-”

“So what.” You stared more directly at him. “I want this. I’ve never wanted a man the way I want you. Does my age bother you?”

“No.” Joel still smiled, keeping the mood light. He squeezed your hand back and you smiled wide at him.

“Good.”

He brought your knuckles to his lips. “Your parents,” Joel began, “They're-”

“Let me worry about that,” you cut him off again. “We don't have to sort everything out right this second.”

“Fair enough.” Joel kept your hand in his and you smiled simultaneously when you felt his foot run up the inside of your calf now. When you bit your lip he grinned more mischievously and lowered his voice, "Weren't you going to share details about what you wanted to do to me?”

Your eyes remained on his as his thumb began to trace circles over the back of your hand. "We should have ordered a booth so we could've sat together on the same side," you told him.

He tipped the corner of his mouth up in a half-smirk. "Well, normally I hate it when couples do that shit so you'd have to give me a good reason to consider it.”

"I'd give you plenty of reasons to consider."

"Tell me."

You knew by now that Joel could do some serious dirty talking to get you all hot and bothered but you weren't as confident in your own ability to do so. You had things running through your mind but you started giggling when you thought of yourself actually saying them out loud.

"More water?" The waiter returned with a pitcher.

"I'm fine, thank you,” you told him, leaning back to sip your wine instead. Joel put a hand up as he declined.

"Just another minute until your food comes out."

Joel didn't miss a beat, looking back to you as the waiter stepped away. "I'll take the lead on this one," he told you with a smile. "You see, if you were seated right next to me I'd slowly run my hand up the inside of your thigh..." Joel took another bite from his salad. "And I'd use these two fingers to slip your underwear to the side…”

"What if I'm not wearing any?"

He raised his eyebrows in the slightest bit of intrigued shock and then let his eyes drop toward your waist. His tongue reactively danced across his lips and then he grinned more devilishly than before. Joel looked over his shoulder, down at his lap and then back to you. "My God, woman.”

You were so enamored by Joel that you couldn't help but shamelessly let out what you were feeling; whether it be through the subtle intimate touches or quiet flirtation. It amped up your heart rate because the territory was so unfamiliar.

“I think it's best we didn't land ourselves a booth then." You grinned, "Because…”

Joel had both of his elbows on the table with his hands folded beneath his chin as he leaned almost halfway across the table now. "Because what?"

You motioned with your eyes to the waiter, who was holding a tray by his shoulder. "Guess the rest will have to wait."

He turned, wanting to slip a one hundred dollar bill into the guy's shirt and tell him to get lost, but he slowly leaned back in his chair with a painful smile on his face.

You felt pleased with yourself seeing him just a bit flustered. You never felt completely in control of him, and you hoped you could make it last.

"Steak dinner for you sir." The waiter placed Joel's food down, "And baked Tilapia for you ma'am." He looked back and forth between the two of you. "What else can I do for you?"

"Nothing," you said at the same time, and then you added. "Thank you so much."

The man nodded again and walked away.

"You know... you should dress up more often," you told him.

He chuckled to himself and began cutting the steak in front of him. "If it'll bring this side out of you-"

"No really." You smiled at him. "You look nice."

Joel shrugged and took a bite. You could see an uncomfortable shift in his posture because of the compliment. Despite you finding his fleeting moment of coyness to be adorable, you decided to get back to being flirty and a little silly to keep the vibe of the night going. "Why don't we get these meals to go and, uh..."

He glanced up to you and stopped chewing on the bite in his mouth, seeming to be eager to agree despite just getting the overly expensive meals. When he realized you were kidding he shook his head. "You're enjoying this huh?" he finally asked with a smile.

"Enjoying what?"

"You know what."

You laughed and decided to focus on your dinner. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to, uh…." Joel subtly motioned to his lap with his fork and then as if he was speaking to a dog he said, "Down boy," making you laugh a little louder.

Joel chuckled and looked around to a few other diners that looked in your direction. He then looked back at you with a laugh of his own and lowered his voice again. "We're doing dessert at home."

You continued to laugh with him as you forked a bite of fish into your mouth. “Deal.”

By the time dinner was done, you felt like you were in a notch deeper. Joel slipped an arm around your waist as you exited the restaurant and the two of you made your way up the quaint, little street toward where he'd parked his truck.

"You do look beautiful," he told you as you went.

“Thank you.”

He opened the passenger door and helped you up into the truck, careful not to let you slip in your heels. You thanked him again and watched as he crossed around the vehicle to enter through his side. Joel closed the door and walked around, joining you in the car before resting a hand on your left leg. "I'm curious to see if you were being serious about the no panties thing."

"Still thinking about that huh?" You teased and glanced down as the muscles in his fingers twitched against your thigh in anticipation. "Only one way to find out."

He leaned across the way and kissed you while sliding his hand further up your leg. You massaged his tongue with your own, pressing your eyes shut hard. When his lips parted from yours, Joel took a long, deep breath out his nose. He slid his hand away and leaned back in the driver’s seat."We've got a forty minute ride home.” He looked over at you, biting his bottom lip for just a second and said. "I think I’m going to draw this one out."

You shook your head at him, noting he was making it obvious that he was taking back control of the situation. "You're going to be wondering the whole ride," you told him.

"I may just have to surrender to you before then," he admitted, beginning to pull the truck out of the parking space as he headed down the road.

"So, is this our first real date?" you asked him.

Joel grinned and gave a nod, “I suppose it is.” He linked his fingers through yours and took the steering wheel in his left hand.

You turned to him with a smile and knew he could tell you were purposely staring when he grinned to himself.

"I love that you wrote your number on a post-it,” you said to him honestly, smiling so wide that it began to make your jaw ache.

Joel laughed out loud, “The perks you get of dating an older man.”

“One of the many.”

“You know I thought about you the entire night after we first met on your back step.”

“Really?” You knew you must’ve sounded like a giddy teenager.

“Mmm…” Joel swallowed hard but a closed-mouth smile remained on his face, “I couldn’t believe you showed up at the bar that night.”

“I couldn’t believe you were there. Holly asked if I knew you and when I looked, I almost didn’t know what to do.”

Joel glanced over at you, “I’m glad you picked there of all places.”

“Me, too.” You added, “I, uh… I’ve never just done something like that before. I never wanted to. I don’t do one-night stands, or even just hook up to hook up. Not that I care if people do.” You were rambling, “My friends do all the time, it’s just not me.” You took a breath, trying to reel in your thoughts and were relieved when Joel began to chuckle.

“I know,” Joel said to you, “And you don’t have to explain.”

“I haven’t had sex with anyone since October of last year.”

He glanced at you now.

“Before you,” you added.

Joel grinned and brought the back of your hand to his lips. “Whatever happened in your relationships before me is your business. All I care about is today… and tomorrow… and the day after that.”

You smiled and leaned across the way, glancing at the open road in front of you. You planted a single kiss on his lips, vowing to take on his mindset and to stop worrying about his soon-to-be ex wife. Joel was right. The past was the past. The future was yours for the taking.

He kissed you back, glancing at the road quickly before kissing you again. "I got an idea."

You grinned, willing to follow anything he said at that moment. "What?"

Joel smiled and then floored the pedal a little harder, weaving in and out of traffic before taking an exit halfway between the restaurant and his house. He pulled the truck down a series of backroads before coming to a clearing on top of a cliff that overlooked a large body of water that stretched on for miles.

"Where are we?" You asked him, staring outward at the darkened sky.

"Nice ain't it?"

You smirked. "Something tells me you've been here before."

"Can't we let the past be the past?" Joel laughed, reiterating his previous statements.

"How many women have you taken here before me?" You raised your eyebrows at him in a playful accusation.

"A couple," he admitted, "As a younger man." And then added, leaning across the way to kiss you again. "But I just couldn't wait the forty minute ride."

You kissed him back and closed your eyes. "As long as I'm the last woman you take here..." They were a bold choice of words, but you said them anyway.

"I can agree to that," Joel told you, feeling your tongue eagerly slide back in his mouth. Your hands reached for his belt and Joel moaned into your mouth when he felt it unlatch. He pulled back for a moment, reaching for the handle that launched his seat back away from the steering wheel and then pulled you onto his lap upon shoving his pants down past his knees.

Joel moved his hand between your legs and a smile formed on his face as he fingered your underwear to the side.

“I was just teasing about the panties,” you whispered against his lips, watching his eyes close. A smile twisted back onto his face

"Save that one for our tenth date,” he choked out, leaning his head back against the headrest when you lowered yourself down onto him. Joel let out a satisfied sigh when your bodies finally connected after the prolonged sexual banter at dinner that left him yearning to touch you.

You began to move on top of him, making every part of his body twitch with pleasure. You grabbed him by his tie and kissed him hard. Immediately, you could tell he enjoyed your moment of aggression because he let out an extended moan into your mouth.

You abruptly pulled your face away. "People don't come up here, do they?" you breathed against him, not stopping as you rode him.

Joel didn't seem to care as he helped to move you with his hands; his eyes were still closed and mouth partway opened.

"Joel." You smiled and he let his eyes flicker open with a groan and a lopsided grin.

"Why, are you imagining the paper headlines?" he asked. "Local construction worker arrested for lascivious acts in a public place with his hot, young girlfriend?" He pulled your face to his and kissed you again, urging you to continue.

Girlfriend. That was all you needed to hear. Everything he had just said ignited a fire inside you as he penetrated your lips with his tongue with force. Your hand wrapped around his tie again and Joel groaned.

You didn't stop this time, breathing heavily against his mouth as he thrusted up from beneath you. When you parted your lips from his to moan, Joel grabbed your face again, guiding your mouth back to his. You could tell he was having a hard time controlling himself as he tried stopping you several times from then on out, but you didn't let him.

"You're not going to get yours," he warned, almost unable to get the words out, while keeping his eyes closed tightly as his eyebrows pressed together. His hands gripped your hips hard and you grinded on him forcefully, moaning his name out into his ear.

The muscles in Joel’s abdomen tightened and he held you against him harder as his bare thighs tensed. “Fuuuuck…” he bucked his hips up, letting out a series of moans and curse words all the while pushing your hips down forcefully against his as he began to come. Joel’s eyes were pressed shut and through gritted teeth he hissed your name.

You loved the few times when you got him so worked up that he couldn't control himself. Watching his face in that moment of pure ecstasy made your entire body feel hot and satisfied.

Joel's head finally fell back against the top of the seat again and he breathed heavily in and out with his eyes closed. You remained on top of him and touched your lips gently to his, releasing his tie from your hand before climbing off of him to get back in the passenger seat.

He didn't move for a few seconds and then finally glanced over. "Okay..." Joel took a deep breath. "Now I'm ready to fuckin' go to sleep."

You snickered and readjusted yourself next to him.

"Told you you weren't going to-" he began, but you leaned back across the center console and kissed him again. It was a hot, passionate kiss despite the intimacy that had just come to a close in the cab of his truck. "We have a long ride home," You reminded him, "So, don't get too sleepy because you owe me one once we get there."

Joel smiled and looked down before pulling his pants back up. He looked at you with a lazy grin. "You got it, honey.”

CLICK HERE FOR PART 8

@pedropascal111 @axshadows @mybritishstyle @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @goodvibesonly421 @cosmic006533-blog @ashleyfilm @maybetomorrowgirl

[mynameismckenziemae]

A Little Bit Stronger

Part 4

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x OFC

Summary: You get more bad news but it turns out to be a blessing in disguise

Just like everything else I write/post: this story is for 18+ only. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. It will contain smut, adult themes, situations and language. Please also note this story may be triggering due to the topic of domestic abuse (physical, emotional, sexual) violence-feel free to message me with any questions before reading.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, mutual masturbation, a little voyeurism.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

The front door closing quietly wakes you the next morning, well, more like Hank jumping off the bed to see the person who opened it.

“Alright,” you yawn, stretching before you get up, feeling again well-rested. “Let’s go.”

He races down the stairs ahead of you, excited to see Bradley.

“Did I wake you?” He asks as you enter the kitchen, continuing when you shake your head. “Sorry, I get up early. Went for a run this morning.”

“You’re fine,” you smile, “Hank was just excited to see you. I usually get up early too, must’ve just been tired from yesterday. Is that why you’re called Rooster? You’re an early riser too?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, turning pink as he rises from petting Hank to look in the fridge.

Now you’re totally convinced that there’s more to the story by his avoidance.

“I don’t have much besides eggs and toast,” he sighs, looking at the loaf of bread on the counter, “I’ve gotta get to the grocery store. I should warn you too, I can’t cook for shit.”

“That’s okay,” you reply as you open the door to let Hank outside, “I used to love cooking.”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t need to ask why you stopped loving it, assuming (correctly) it was because of Chad. “My mom was a great cook. I’d do anything to have one of her home-cooked meals again…that I complained about at the time, wanting McDonald’s or pizza instead.”

You laugh as you fill Hank’s food bowl, “I did the same thing, I think most kids do.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, grabbing the eggs and pulling out a pan. “The best was her meatloaf and homemade Mac and cheese. She left me a whole book of her recipes but it never ends well when I attempt them.”

“I could try making it,” you reply as you let Hank back inside, “if you want.”

“Really?” He lights up as he cracks an egg, “that’d be great.”

“Yeah,” you smile, “it’s been a while so I might be a little rusty, but I’d love to try. It’s the least I can do since you won’t let me pay you for staying here.”

“That’s not a big deal,” he murmurs. “Her recipe book is in there if you wanna take a look,” he nods to one of the drawers. “Do you like your eggs scrambled? Cause that’s all I can do.”

You laugh again, “Scrambled is perfect.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Wanna invite Reese, Jake, and Drew over?” Bradley asks as he packs the groceries into the back of the Bronco, “I know the recipe makes a lot, we always had a ton of leftovers.”

“Sure,” you reply, buckling your seatbelt as he gets in the driver's seat. “Do you mind stopping at the post office? I should check my PO Box.”

“Not at all,” he replies, heading that way.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Everything okay?” He asks when you frown, reading the letter from the court.

“The divorce hearing is scheduled for next Friday,” you reply.

“Isn’t that good?”

You nod, “It is, but I have to work. Thankfully it’s being conducted over the phone, but I don’t want to ask for time off when I’ve only been there a few weeks.”

“Reese will gladly take off,” Bradley assures you.

You sigh, “I hate asking her to, but I don’t think I have a choice. I don’t want to delay this any longer.”

“Do you have a lawyer?” He asks.

“Yes, but I’m not asking for anything from him; no alimony, nothing from the house…I don’t want or need any of that. I just need him to sign the papers and leave me alone.”

“Do you think he will?” He asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, “I hope so.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Bradley plays outside with Hank while you start the food; both recipes are easy enough to follow.

“It smells amazing,” he comes in just as you’re closing the oven. “Jake and Reese will be here any minute.”

“Good. Hopefully it tastes amazing too,” you smile, looking at him over your shoulder.

“I’m sure it will,” he replies, stepping close to dry his hands on the towel hanging on the oven door. “It’s looking better already,” he murmurs, his deep brown eyes on the fading bruise on your cheek before meeting your own.

Your eyes flick to his lips, fingers twitching as you fight the urge to bring him down to yours for a kiss.

You both jump when the doorbell rings.

“They’re here,” he says, before clearing the huskiness from his throat. “I’ll let them in.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “okay.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Bradley brings a round of beers outside while the food cooks inside, Drew’s giggling at Hank’s antics, and Reese is telling you and Jake about the trouble she and Bradley got up to with Andy back in the day when your phone rings.

The relaxed smile falls from your face when you recognize the number as your new landlord.

“Excuse me,” you say, stepping inside to answer it and check the food.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

The oven timer goes off just as you hang up the phone.

Somehow you manage not to get any of your tears on the food as you take out the dishes.

“Wow, everything looks great-hey what’s wrong?” Bradley asks when he sees your tears.

“That was my landlord,” you tell him, wiping your tears with the back of your hand, “he terminated my lease…that hadn’t even started.”

“What?” He asks, handing you a paper towel, “Why? How can he do that?”

“Said he overlooked something when I applied,” you sniff, “it’s just a bullshit excuse. This has Chad written all over it. God only knows how he figured out that’s where I was moving,” you inhale shakily, “I’m guessing he either bribed or threatened the landlord.”

He hesitates for a moment before gently wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

“Shit, that was stupid. I’m sor-“ He starts to let go when you stiffen instinctively but you shake your head once before allowing yourself to melt into his embrace. All of your anger, sadness, resentment, grief, and fear hitting you at once. Your shoulders begin shake from your suppressed sobs as you bury your face into his solid chest.

Neither of you hear the back door open again.

“Actually Drew, can you take Hank out one more time?”Jake says when he spots you, “I think he might have to go potty.”

“Sure! Come on,” he says, and the door closes a moment later.

“What’s wrong?” Reese asks, stroking your hair.

“I l-l-lost my apart-“ you take a deep breath before reluctantly pulling away, “I lost my apartment.”

Reese tears up and there’s a tick in Jake’s jaw as you explain everything.

“Oddly enough, I was thinking of taking next Friday off anyway,” Reese says when you tell her about the divorce hearing.

“Liar,” you laugh wetly, “but thank you.”

She just smiles.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“This is exactly like she made it,” Bradley murmurs, mostly to himself. You pretend not to notice the tears in his eyes.

“Roo, is Shae your girlfriend?” Drew asks a few minutes later.

Reese snorts as Bradley chokes on the food in his mouth, “No, she’s just my friend. Why?”

“Because she slept over last night,” he shrugs.

“Well, are you my boyfriend? You sleep over sometimes too,” Bradley asks, raising a brow.

“No!” Drew giggles, “I was just wondering. I thought when adults sleep over it means they’re dating. Jake sleeps over all the time in Mom’s room. He leaves really early in the morning though. I don’t know why he doesn’t just move in.”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing at the shocked look Jake and Reese share.

“Busted!” Bradley bursts out laughing, “not as sneaky as you thought, huh?”

“Oh fuck off,” Reese says, her and Jake laughing now too, “Drew, don’t repeat that.”

“I won’t,” he giggles.

“Shae is just a friend and she’s going to stay here for a while,” Bradley explains before clarifying, “in the guest room.”

Your lip quirks at that.

“But why?” Drew asks.

“Drew-“ Reese starts but you interrupt.

“I just moved here and it’s hard to find an apartment that allows big dogs,” you explain, not lying…just leaving out some details.

“That’s dumb,” Drew scoffs, “he’s such a good dog.”

“I think so too,” you smile.

“Do you like baseball?” He asks, changing the subject, “I love baseball…”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You begin the apartment search again the next morning, requesting tours and submitting applications to anything that looks promising.

But by Thursday evening, you’ve gotten zero responses.

While discouraged, you weren’t exactly disappointed. It’s been a week since you’ve been staying with Bradley and you two already have fallen into a routine together; he quietly opens your door every morning to let Hank out so he doesn’t whine and wake you. Already gone by the time you got downstairs but had coffee, toast, and eggs waiting in the microwave. He’d gone home to let Hank out without you asking one day when you didn’t have time to take lunch. His delighted reactions to your cooking makes you remember why you loved it.

“Still nothing?” Bradley asks as he sits across from you while scrolling for a movie to turn on.

“Nothing,” you confirm with a sigh, “I promise I’ll be out of here soon though.”

“You don’t have to be,” he turns to you, but his eyes won’t meet yours, “I mean, there’s no rush.”

He hesitates so you wait for him to continue.

“It’s been really nice having someone else here,” he admits, “It gets…quiet living alone.”

His admission tugs at your heartstrings; you got lonely too.

“I understand. I do like having someone around. For little things like talking over dinner, watching movies together…and I can finally sleep. I don’t keep myself awake overthinking every little sound.”

“Good,” he murmurs, “you can stay for a while if you want. Until you find an apartment you like, or until things get better with your ex and you feel safe again.”

“Okay,” you agree, “but only if you let me pay you.”

“Sure,” he says as he returns to scrolling, “we’ll figure something out.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Bradley’s Bronco is already in the driveway when you pull in the following afternoon.

It was a long, exhausting day, but it’s over. You’re free.

It was conducted over the phone, so while you didn’t have to see Chad, you still had to hear his voice. He behaved though; his daddy must’ve been present.

“Bradley?” You call when you open the door, feeling better already as you step inside.

He doesn’t answer but Hank is relaxing at the top of the stairs. His tail thumps heavily as you make your way up.

“Hey pup,” you murmur, kissing the top of his head before passing him.

You realize where Bradley is when you enter your room and hear the shower running.

Having every intention of taking a nap, you flop down on the bed with a sigh and close your eyes.

Just to open them a minute later when you keep hearing something; a wet, rhythmic slapping.

Is he…? No. It’s none of your business if he’s jerking off.

Then he moans softly.

You ignore your body’s reaction.

It’s wrong…right?

There’s a thump above your head and you can’t help but picture him bracing his arm against the wall as he strokes himself.

“Oh,” he groans, then, “Shae.”

There’s no ignoring the arousal that rushes through your body before settling between your thighs.

You slide your hand down the front of your pants, gasping when you touch your clit, swollen and pulsing.

Your eyes fall shut as you circle your clit, listening to the sounds he makes and picture him while he’s apparently picturing you.

It’s been so long since you’ve had an orgasm that you’re on the brink in no time at all.

His gasped “fuck” above your ear is all it takes.

Your mouth falls open as you shudder through wave after wave of pent-up pleasure. Tears stream from your eyes at the long-overdue emotional release.

The shower turns off as you come back into your body and by the time you muster enough strength and coordination to get up to close the door, he’s already walking past.

“Shit!” He jumps when he glances into your room, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d be home until later.”

But you hardly hear him; your eyes follow a droplet of water as it runs down his bare chest, wanting to follow it with your tongue. It’s absorbed the towel wrapped loosely on his hips.

A light tug would make it fall.

“Hey,” he notices your disheveled appearance and drying tears, “you okay? How did it go?”

That snaps you out of it.

“It’s-yeah,” you shake your head to clear it, “I just got here a minute ago. I’m…it was a long day.”

“I bet,” he nods, “I’ll listen if you want to talk about it or there’s beer in the fridge if you want to drink about it?”

“Drink about it,” you smile.

“Alright,” the way he grins makes your heart (and other parts) flutter.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: posting 2 chapters in 2 days-who even am I? I think I wrote over 5,000 words today 👀

Anyway…Shae is a single woman and things are s l o w l y heating up! What did y’all think?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

Please let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) my taglist…and if I forgot to add you-it wasn’t intentional.

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[harlowtales]

Jack is jealous when Y/N goes crazy for another rapper 😡

18 PLUS ONLY - ADULT CONTENT

(Unedited)

“You ready baby? Happy Birthday to my girl. Are you excited?” Jack said holding you from behind and kissing your neck as you checked yourself out in the full length mirror.

“Baby you’re wrinkling me!” You said smoothing out where he had bunched up your dress wrapping his arms around you. “But thank you baby I can’t wait!”

“If I was a bad bitch I’d wanna fuck me too!” You said jumping up and down as if you were already at NLE’s show in the front row. Jack surprised you with tickets and because he knew NLE you were going to meet him. Jack just looked at you and walked away. He was a bit jealous if he was being honest. This was all you talked about since you found out like you weren’t dating an even more famous rapper.

“Hey, calm down and don’t you think you should wear something that covers you more baby? What about this jeans and hoodie? It’s just a concert.” Jack tried to reason to make himself feel better. You looked gorgeous and that was the problem. NLE was as funny and charming as Jack was.

“Um no thanks I like this dress but maybe next time.” You said unknowingly kissing him on the cheek. “Let’s go!!!”

“Can we listen to NLE on the way there?” You begged as Jack didn’t like noise when he was driving.

“We’re going to the show isn’t that over kill?” He said starting to get annoyed.

“We’ll listen to older stuff he might not play tonight. PLLLLLEASE” you said pouting.

“Ok fine.” He relented kissing your forehead. You were adorable when you begged.

“Going down a narrow ro oh oh oad, going down a narrow road oh oh oad!!!” You sang NLE’s earlier hit Narrow Road at the top of your lungs with the roof open. Jack was already regretting buying you these tickets. He had to make you go to Gazebo Fest and you complained the entire time of being too hot, hungry, and tired.

Jack wasn’t much for concerts and when he went he usually sat higher up in box seats but because he knew you wanted front row you got front row. Baby gets what baby wants. This was a smaller venue anyway so Jack didn’t have much of a choice. You let out a squeal when you grabbed the barricade and Jack rolled his eyes taking his guarded boyfriend stance firmly behind you where he planned to be the entire time. He looked around and he felt old. NLE’s crowd was about 16-25 so he grumpily put up with pushing and shoving as the crowd built up.

“Yo!!! Oh shit Jack Harlow is here!” He was hearing around him as cell phones quickly came out of pockets and flashed before he could say anything. He wanted a date night feeling with no security and was beginning to regret it. You on the other hand were chatting away with someone beside you about how funny NLE was and his latest shenanigans on IG.

“Girl that red see through top and red leather pants at Fashion Week??? OMG!! He looked SO GOOD!” She gushed to which you nodded and Jack pretended not to hear. That’s when the lights went down a few opening acts you didn’t care much about came on. Jack was concerned you were bored.

“You ok baby? You’re barely dancing” he observed sweetly as he held you tighter. He was bracing himself for your reaction to the main event.

“Just waiting for my man is all.” You said “Saving my energy.” You didn’t yet know you were going to meet NLE afterwards.

After a brief intermission and endless people coming up to Jack the lights dimmed and you started screaming. “He ain’t even on yet.” Jack said dryly and slightly embarrassed.

Then it got pitch black and smoke filled the stage. Through the mist NLE emerged with his signature look shirtless, tatted from head to toe, low riding black jeans. He directed a megawatt, diamond grilled smile to you and winked. “Jack Harlow done brought his girl to see me y’all!!!” NLE said playfully as he darted to the other end of the stage. Jack smiled back but the joke irked him. You on the other hand were mesmerized.

Then NLE did the Slut Me Out trilogy it was a wrap. By this time Jack was hiding how mad he was. NLE had you. He jumped down from the stage drenched in sweat and as he went by the front row he kissed your hand like a perfect gentleman. You sang along just as loud as in the car then it happened. NLE pulled you up on stage and walked around you like his prey as he rapped “Is we fucking or what?” and made his famous humping gestures in the air. You were escorted back to Jack who just stood there in disbelief.

“Having a good time now?” Jack said angrily

“Baby I…Baby it’s all just fun.” You apologized thinking because Jack and NLE knew each other and both always joked around it was all fine. You tried to kiss him but he dogged it.

“I have a surprise for you that unfortunately we can’t back out of now or I’ll look like a punk.” Jack explained as the crowd thinned out after the show and he led you to the backstage area following security that came to get you.

“Wait what’s happening???” You asked incredulously as you were now standing in the hallway in front of NLE’s dressing room door. Jack just stood there not saying a word.

“Baby I am so sorry if I acted way over the top and made you feel bad.” You said as you titled your head up to kiss him. Jack couldn’t resist and felt your butt as his tongue met yours.

“You owe me after this” Jack said giving your butt a light but stinging tap that served as a warning.

“You’re a lucky man legend” you heard a voice say in a thick Memphis drawl. You turned around and there he was. NLE standing there freshly showered with grey sweatpants on and a towel on his head.

You tried not to appear remotely interested in looking down at the package NLE was toting. Jack’s eyes were on you.

“You must be y/n so honoured to meet the princess of Kentucky” he said holding your hand too long for Jack’s liking.

You shyly replied “Um that’s me” fixing hair behind your ear. All mannerisms that Jack didn’t like.

“Oh fuck now she getting all SHY??” He said seething in his mind.

“Sup.” He said to NLE and dapped him up not showing how agitated his was as he felt NLE poured it on thick during his show.

“I hope you don’t mind me bringing this gorgeous prize on stage. I just wanted to make her birthday unforgettable.” NLE said eyeing you

“Preciate you man.” Jack replied stiffly in complete bro mode.

“Oh boy Jack is acting all hard he is PISSED.” You said to yourself. Him and Jack talked shop for a bit off to the side recounting the XXL freshman class they were both in. Jack seemed to loosen up and was smiling and laughing to which you breathed a sigh of relief.

On the way home he was silent in the car and you didn’t ask to play any music especially NLE’s. You reached over and felt his bulge and he responded immediately shifting in his seat as he stared at the road. “That’s right, you know how to make everything up to me birthday girl.”

“Pull over.” You ordered “Imma take care of you like it’s YOUR birthday.”

@itsyagirljaz @jackharlow502