#because I feel like if I decide just to like settle in and start watching something or actually writing more for the new unholy chp then my

[quarterlifekitty]

The Gaz secret baby post was sooo delicious. He totally would go "oh fuck yeah a baby it’s baby time". You've infected my brain with this trope and the doctors are saying it's incurable 🤒 I keep thinking of Nikolai in this trope!

He's not made his attraction to you any secret – you dismiss any reciprocated feelings because it's just not realistic with both of your jobs. The task force finishes a gruelling but successful op with him, and everybody decides to let loose for a night. After a few many rounds of drinks… you inevitably fall into his bed.

Cut to 5 weeks later, you're staring at a positive test and wondering how long you can keep this a secret. You resolve to never let Nik know he's the dad. Someone who loves his job, disappearing for months… you decide it's best for your child to have at least one present parent and maybe you're scared of the rejection.

I’m so ashamed I haven’t done this trope for Nikolai!!! I love the idea of you trying actively to hide it— it’s not just a one night stand thing, you really know each other and you’re still trying to get away with it.

At first, when he sees the baby— he just assumes it can’t be his, because you would’ve told him, wouldn’t you? Surely you wouldn’t think he didn’t want anything to do with a perfect, chubby baby made from both you and him. So when he’s questioning, it’s about the timelines. He knows there wasn’t anything labeled between you— it was one night, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but the beast inside him still bares its teeth at the idea that you fucked someone right after he fucked you.

Price, for all that Nik is his best mate, promised to be your confidant as your captain, and he wouldn’t betray that. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t a messy bitch who will start making a whole load of implications. Some of them are pretty crude, too, because he’s trying to goad Nik into confronting you. Saying things like “You should dick ‘er down again soon, last time it settled her down like you wouldn’t believe.”

It makes Nik more and more sure that there wasn’t anyone else. You were never really the type. Which means the baby must be his, and for some reason, you don’t want him to know.

That makes his blood hot. The idea that you don’t want him to father his own baby. You’ve always been a bit bristly to him, and he’s never known exactly why— he was hoping to find out the morning after you fell into bed together, but you ran out first thing, and he was contracted in a job soon after.

So he hangs over you more than before, watching from a distance, the gears turning as he considers what the fuck to say to get you to fess up. He wants to hear you say it. He doesn’t want to just ask and have you confirm or deny.

It hurts that you don’t want to tell him. That you don’t feel it’s safe for him to know. That you’re trying to protect yourself and the cub from him knowing. And despite the support from your own squad— it can’t have been easy for you.

But he also doesn’t want to miss out on another second of fatherhood. There’s an impatient roiling in his gut about it. Seeing your fat little baby, his fat little baby, and not being able to wordlessly lift it from your arms and hold it close to his chest and kiss its head.

So he’s conflicted, to say the least.

[gracie-eilish]

Peachy🧡✨🍑

Billie was always that friend. You know the one—the touchy, flirty, effortlessly charming type who could hug someone out of nowhere or plant a cheeky kiss on someone’s forehead, leaving everyone in a daze while she just smirked and walked away. It wasn’t like she was trying to make people fall for her (not on purpose, anyway); it was just her way. She was warm, tactile, and confident in a way that made her magnetic to everyone she met.

But recently, Billie’s affectionate attention had shifted… to you.

It started subtle at first: a lingering hug when she arrived at hangouts, an arm slung casually around your shoulder during movie nights, or a playful nudge followed by that signature smirk of hers. Slowly but surely, it became more frequent. A kiss on the cheek when she said goodbye. Her legs draped over yours when you sat next to each other on the couch. Fingers tracing lightly over your arm as she teased you about something innocuous.

You tried not to read into it. After all, Billie was like this with everyone…. right? It was just her personality. But, it was becoming harder to ignore the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach every time she hugged you or the way your face flushed when she leaned close, her voice low and playful as she called you a sweet nickname.

Like tonight.

The group had decided on a cozy night in at your place, and Billie had shown up fashionably late, as usual. The second she walked in the door, she zeroed in on you, her eyes lighting up in that familiar way that made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey pretty girl,” she said, smirking as she opened her arms wide.

You tried to play it cool, but there was no stopping the flush that crept up your neck as you stood up to greet her. “Hi, Billie.”

She pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping tightly around you as if she hadn’t seen you in years instead of just a few days. Her cheek brushed against yours, and you could smell her cologne—a warm, woodsy scent that made your knees feel weak. It mixed with the sweet citrusy, floral perfume you had on, one Billie was starting to fall for.

“You smell so good, peach,” she murmured, her nose grazing your jaw, before pressing a quick kiss there.

You laughed nervously, hoping she couldn’t feel how fast your heart was pounding. “Uh, thanks. You, too.”

When she finally let go, she kept an arm around your shoulder, guiding you back to the couch where the rest of your friends were lounging. She plopped down beside you, her leg immediately brushing against yours, and you had to fight the urge to scoot away. Not because you didn’t like it—God, you loved it—but because you were terrified she’d notice how much her touch affected you.

The night went on, with the group laughing and chatting as Billie’s presence remained firmly anchored to your side. At one point, she stretched out on the couch, her head resting comfortably on your lap. She looked up at you with a lazy smile, her blue eyes glinting mischievously.

“Comfy?” you asked giggling, but trying to sound nonchalant.

“Very,” she said, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You make a great pillow, babe,” she added before sending you a wink.

Your cheeks burned, but you managed a soft laugh. “Glad I could help.”

She stayed there for the better part of an hour, her fingers occasionally grazing your knee or tracing absentminded patterns on your hand. You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but all you could think about was how close she was, how warm her body felt against yours, and how much you didn’t want her to move.

Eventually, the group decided to watch a movie. The lights were dimmed, and everyone else settled into their usual spots, with Billie predictably sticking to you like glue. This time, she sat up and pulled you over to sit in her lap with your back to her front, her arm draped over your waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Your breath hitched as she set her chin on your shoulder, nose brushing your cheek.

“You comfy, mama?” she murmured, her breath tickling your ear.

“Yeah,” you whispered back, hoping she couldn’t hear the slight tremor in your voice.

You could hear her smirk in her low hum, pressing a kiss to your hair, her arms tightening around your waist.

As the movie played on, you found yourself hyper-aware of every little movement she made—the way her chest rose and fell against your back, the way her hand occasionally squeezed your hip when something funny happened on screen, the way her laugh vibrated in you every time she giggled, whispering little cheeky add-ons into your ear. By the time the credits rolled, your head was spinning, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep pretending you were unaffected by her touch.

When the night finally wound down and your friends started trickling out the door, Billie lingered behind, helping you clean up. She didn’t say much at first, just quietly gathering empty cups and plates while you tried to steady your nerves.

“Thank you or staying to help Bills. You really don’t have to,” you said, breaking the silence.

She shrugged, flashing you a lopsided grin. “It’s no problem. Aything for you, angel.”

There it was again—that playful, flirtatious tone that always seemed to leave you breathless. You turned and busied yourself with stacking plates and setting dishes in the sink, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way your hands were shaking.

As she finished tying up the last garbage bag and set it down, she looked over at you with a curious look in her eyes.

“You’ve been quiet tonight. You’re usually so bubbly and giggly,” she said, stepping closer, leaning on the opposite side of the kitchen counter “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said a little too quickly, avoiding her gaze.

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure? You’re not mad at me or something, are you?”

“What? Oh my gosh no, of course I’m not mad at you,” you said, finally meeting her eyes.

Her expression softened and she let out a sigh of relief while she walked around to be closer to you. “Thank God. I’d hate to think I did something to upset you, baby,” she said, while reaching up to cup your flushed cheeks.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as her fingers lingered against your cheek. “You didn’t.”

She smiled, her thumb grazing your cheekbone. “You’re so cute when you blush, you know that?”

“Please, I am not blushing,” you scoffed playfully.

“Oh you so are,” she said, her grin widening. “And I think you know it, cutie,” she whispered directly into your ear.

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat as she leaned back a bit, her blue eyes locked on yours. For a moment, you thought she was going to kiss you, but instead, she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering just long enough to leave you breathless.

“Goodnight, peach,” she murmured, her voice low and warm.

And with that, she turned and walked out the door, but not without turning around again to send a wink your way before closing the door, leaving you standing there, your cheeks burning and your heart pounding as you wondered if she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

And as Billie walked down the hallway further away from your apartment, her smirk only grew.

She totally knew what she was doing.

🍑✨☁️🧡

[sluttyten]

😠.

[sttoru]

outlaw!toji who initially kidnapped you for money, to rob you from your valuable belongings, eventually forms a strange attachment to you. he can’t help but feel a faint twinge of guilt for robbing a pretty and delicate little thing like you.

so, he decides to let you return to your beloved family in town. though he does not let you go completely.

every now and then when toji is passing by the town you reside in - avoiding sheriffs and other people whom could possibly recognise him from the wanted posters plastered on every wall - he looks for you.

of course, you freak out the first time he sneaked up on you. however slowly yet surely, you let your guard down. the outlaw didn’t harm you in any way after all.

“how ‘re ya doin’, princess?” toji would always greet you with that signature, cocky smirk of his, leaning against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chiseled chest or his hands on his worn gun belt.

sometimes you reply quickly, but on other occasions you indulge him and continue the conversation. it’s often at night that he visits you, so you have less of a chance to get caught together.

you don’t know when or how toji found out where your family’s house is. he simply started showing up at your balcony once in a while, just to catch up. after a couple times, you even let him in.

those nightly visits swiftly turned into something more intimate. it feels so wrong yet so right. a dangerous criminal who’s killed hundreds, who had even kidnapped you one day, being invited into your bed— how scandalous.

though you can’t help it. his callused yet warm hands that touch your skin, his burly body that presses you into the mattress just right, his slightly chapped lips that nip at your flesh and leave marks. . . you don’t regret a thing.

especially when you’re both catching your breath after an intense encounter. toji’s muscular body, filled with countless of scars, blankets yours easily. his arms cradle you to his bare chest afterwards and all you can do is relax against him.

“i think i really hit the jackpot with ya, aye? may not have robbed ya of yer stuff that day, but i got ma prize money one way or ‘nother,” the rugged outlaw grins as he lights up a cigar and holds it between his lips.

you can’t even tell him off for smoking in your room. toji’s fingers massage your scalp so good to the point you’re putty in his hands. the scent of tobacco is also comforting. it’s one you associate with him, because he always smells like it. it’s always a combination of tobacco, nature, horses and gunpowder.

toji knows that he has to leave before anyone comes checking in on you, but he can’t leave you when you look so adorable, clinging onto him like a lifeline.

every time he visits, it’s the same exciting story.

when toji is in a more sentimental mood, he takes you out on a ride. he settles you on the back of his horse, speeding off into the sunset, letting you enjoy the view outside of town.

the beautiful freedom that comes with the life of an outlaw. the freedom of seeing nature in all its glory. you get to experience it all.

at times, when you’re out and about, he takes his chance and teaches you how to handle a gun. toji knows you’ve been spoiled rotten by your parents growing up, so you probably haven’t touched a gun a day in your life. that’s where he comes in.

“oi, watch out. yer gonna blow my fuckin’ face off, girl,” toji grunts with a faint chuckle as he notices your clumsy hand gestures while holding his revolver. it’s endearing, truly. he doesn’t yet understand why it warms his heart to see you try and shoot at the targets he set up.

what the outlaw loves more than that, is when you’re both resting against a large oak tree, with his head on your lap. especially after he gets back from a long and successful heist in a far away town.

toji often lets his cowboy hat cover his face while he naps and uses your thighs as the perfect, plush pillow. the gentle breeze only adds to the perfect moment.

when you take his stetson and put it on your head instead in a innocent gesture, he lazily opens one eye and raises a brow in amusement.

“oh? that yer way of telling me y’ want a ride?” toji teases before pinching your cheek. he loves seeing that flustered expression on your face when you’re once again reminded of the cowboy hat rule he taught you the other day.

toji never misses the opportunity, however. he sits up and leans back against the tree trunk, patting his thick thighs which he spreads lightly.

“hop on f’ me then, pretty. show me how good of a cowgirl y’ are, yeah?”

well, briefly said, it’s never a dull moment with outlaw!toji.

[xochosoxo]

husband!gojo ✮| headcannons

gojoxfem!reader

MDNI -> warnings: afab reader (but anyone can read yk), sfw&nsfw, arranged marriage, slight angst, comfort, pet names, flufflufffluff!, cunnilingus, gojo is pussy whipped, fingering, creamycreamycreamiest creampies, reader calls gojo daddy!, tummypushing

a/n: i had a dream abt this with some random guy and when i woke up i was so disappointed :(( LOL angwah heres some quick gojo headcannons bc i truly miss him and im so lonely.

husband!gojo who you married per each family’s request, making your marriage an arranged one.

husband!gojo who hated the idea of being tied down.

husband!gojo who couldnt wait for the ceremony to end, however when he watched you walk down the aisle, looking so innocent, he felt a tug at his heartstrings.

husband!gojo who didnt know what to do when on your honeymoon. he didnt know whether or not to interact with you or to keep his distance like he promised himself. he decides for the latter.

husband!gojo who enjoys coming to work everyday after his honeymoon because his cute little wife always delivers his lunch to him despite not asking you to.

husband!gojo who starts to soften even more when he sees that you wait for him to come home from work. youre usually sleeping on the couch. he gently scoops you up in his arms and takes you to bed.

husband!gojo who sees that you start getting tired of the routine after a while. making his lunches, waiting for him to come home late. you stop delivering his lunches personally, opting to just give it to him before he leaves in the morning. he doesnt see you when he comes home either.

husband!gojo who makes sure to wash up before slipping into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you . he missed you.

husband!gojo who feels you wake the next morning, obviously confused to see his arms around you. he sighs before bringing you closer to his chest.

husband!gojo who whispers apologies and sweet nothings in your ear as you settle yourself into him with suspicion.

he strokes your head as he says. “im sorry. i know you didnt want this marriage either. im sorry that youve been doing all this alone. i promise ill be here for you. just tell me what you need and i will do everything to help you. youve changed me y/n.”

you look at him, with creased eyebrows, obviously still not trusting him fully.

“ill give you time.” husband!gojo sighs as he lets go of you to get ready for work. you still make him lunch that day.

husband!gojo who comes home and doesnt see you on the couch. he understands that he needs to wait for your response but there is a small part of him that is wondering whether or not you have left.

husband!gojo who sighs in relief when he opens the door to your shared bedroom, seeing you all dolled up in a pretty pj set, sitting comfy on the bed.

husband!gojo who smiles when he sees your face brighten in delight. you walk up to him.

husband!gojo who is surprised when you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with your soft lips. he groans into the kiss, regretting the fact the he never kissed you after the wedding.

husband!gojo who melts to your touch as your bring him to the bed. you remove his jacket and tie as your straddle him, kissing him more harshly.

husband!gojo who makes sure youre okay with with what’s going to happen next. he kisses you again when you say yes.

husband!gojo who takes his sweet time with you. stripping you from your garments,leaving you bare infront of him. he sinks his long fingers into your sopping cunt, your head lolling back in pleasure.

husband!gojo who’s eyes roll back when he finally tastes you. youre addcitive. he laps up your juices, swirling his tongue on your clit. you cum twice on your husband’s tongue, his hands holding your legs apart so they wont close. his fingers continues to scissor you until youre screaming.

husband!gojo who fucks you in missionary position, making sure to watch your face as your react to the pleasure hes giving you.

husband!gojo who cums inside of you only to turn that cum into a creamy mess around your pussy as he pounds into you some more. he can feel his creampie dripping out of you and down his balls.

husband!gojo who enjoys how loud youve become. moaning obscenities and calling him daddy. he wants to fuck you till your dumb!

“fuck princess, youre so fucking messy. fuc—nghh..” he tries to speak but your pussy is squeezing him too well he can barely get words out.

“please daddy!! i need—aghh.. i need you! dont stopp—ahh…” you groan as you have your fourth orgasm of night.

husband!gojo who watches hearts form in your eyes when he cums inside of you for the final time. you can feel his warmth trickling into your womb.

husband!gojo who pulls out and watches his loads flood out of you. he presses on your stomach, watching as more cum gushes out of you.

husband!gojo who brings a warm towel to wipe up the cream around your sex. you moan as he does so, still recovering from all of your orgasms.

husband!gojo who wraps you up into his arms once again, praising you for how well you did.

“you did so good love..” he says stroking your back.

husband!gojo who reminds you that he has fallen in love with you and will do anything and everything in his power to make sure that you are comfortable in this marriage with him.

husband!gojo who knows the two of you will be okay when you peck him on the lips and tell him that you love him.

[machveil]

I can't resist the siren call

Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N

subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts

Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie

Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later

Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks

Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”

CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent

he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds

he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic

when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—

he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐭 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

summary: lando begins to panic when you don't want to cuddle with him

author's note: it's really hot rn where I live so i just wanted to write a cute little blurb inspired by my own suffering. vote here for who i write my next fic about!

• f1 masterlist • youtubers masterlist •

Lando was confused. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, and you didn't seem to be upset with him until now, so he couldn't possibly understand why you were refusing to cuddle with him.

It started off as most of your evenings did. After dinner, he washed the dishes while you dried and put them away, then you both moved into the living room to watch some tv before bed. Only, when Lando tried to pull you closer, you pushed his arm off you, moving away and leaving your boyfriend staring at you like a kicked puppy.

You didn't seem to think anything of it, settling back down on the other side of the sofa and pressing play on your favourite show. However, Lando was still frozen, mind reeling from your rejection. He wondered if you were ignoring him because you were mad or if it was just a mistake and you genuinely couldn't feel his eyes on you.

At last, the uncertainty became to much to bear and he decided to speak up. "Um...baby?" He asked tentatively, watching your face closely to see your reaction.

"Yeah?" You answered, glancing away from the screen.

Huh. That's weird. You didn't seem mad at all, and you obviously weren't ignoring him, so what was this about? Maybe you weren't feeling well suddenly?

"You feeling okay, sweetheart?"

Turning your body to face him, your equally as confused expression only eased his worries slightly. "Yeah, I'm alright. Why?"

Deciding it was probably best to be direct, Lando spoke again. "You pushed me away!"

You couldn't help but giggle at the adorable pout on his face, suddenly feeling bad for not explaining your behaviour earlier. "Lan, my love, I'm so sorry! I promise I'm not mad at you or anything, it's just because of the weather."

"The weather?" His expression changed, a slight frown settling into his brow as he waited for you to continue speaking.

"It's too hot," you explained. "It's my first summer in Monaco, I wasn't expecting it to be this warm. I didn't want to cuddle because I knew I would overheat."

Lando mentally slapped himself for not thinking of that as a possibility. He had lived here for a few years so he was used to the unrelenting sunshine by now, but you had only moved in with him recently so of course you weren't. He couldn't help but laugh at how much he was stressing over something so small.

"You idiot, making me panic like that!" The brunette scolded you playfully. You stared up at him innocently, batting your eyelashes with a smile.

Lando suddenly grabbed hold of your waist, and you shrieked loudly. You wriggled helplessly in his grasp, as he tickled you sides, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"I'll stop if you say sorry."

"Never," you gasped, swatting at his hands. He merely shrugged, tickling you harder.

"You sure?"

"Okay, okay, I-I'm sorry!" You managed between breathless pants.

Lando grinned cheekily at you, allowing you a moment to catch your breath before he leaned in to kiss you softly. You threw your arms around his neck tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. When you finally had to pull away for air, he rested his forehead against yours.

"I thought you were too hot," he teased, causing you to groan again and smack his shoulder. Lando pressed another quick kiss to your lips before continuing, "and for the record, I am definitely buying you like 20 fans tomorrow."

[sarahroutldge]

i love you, i'm sorry.

a/n: requested based on a prompt list - the dialogue prompt is in bold! gif not mine, all credits to the creator (also the title has nothing to do with the song, it was just stuck in my head lol)

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: you and jj maybank drunkenly hooked up a few nights ago, and neither of you know how to deal with that. (routledge!reader)

word count: 3k

warnings: fluff/humor, angst w/ a happy ending, implied sexual content, drinking, semi-proofread, I think that's it

John Booker Routledge never thought he’d actually have to tell his best friend JJ Maybank that his little sister was off limits. Not once did it ever occur to him that JJ would ever think of you in a different way; he hardly liked to consider the idea that you dated anyone in the first place, let alone that you’d express any interest in the man he knew inside-and-out.

But things change and people get older. After you and the rest of the Pogues found El Dorado and began construction on Poguelandia, JJ started to see you differently. Sure, he always found you attractive, but JJ also found every woman he encountered attractive, so he never thought much of it. 

And you certainly didn’t ever think of JJ in that way either. At heart, you were a relationship girl; and while the fact that you were single was proof enough that no relationship of yours had worked out in the past, one of your greatest strengths was that you knew what you wanted. You didn’t seek out something casual because you knew you’d be left unfulfilled. You wanted something all-consuming and destined for marriage. Seeing your older brother grow and mature in his relationship with Sarah Cameron only clarified that further. In your mind, if the second-most relationship-allergic person you knew (after JJ of course) was able to dive headfirst into marriage with a girl so remarkably different from himself, then you decided you wouldn’t settle for any less.

Feelings, however, have a funny way of messing with plans and expectations. While JJ had essentially lived with you and your brother for years, building Poguelandia only pushed the two of you even further together. And watching someone so unpredictable and chaotic as JJ tame himself for the sake of his friends and his future stirred something in you that you hadn’t been expecting at all.

Over the months, your interactions with JJ changed, little by little, and for a while neither of you noticed. It just grew natural for JJ to fix something in the bait shop that you were fussing over, or for you to bring JJ a sandwich or a snack while he worked. You found little ways to make the other’s day brighter, even if subconsciously you never even considered why you were doing these little favors in the first place.

What actually brought the two of you together wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, however. One night, after a long day of work on the house, the Pogues found themselves hanging out above the bait shop, buzzed off of beers, seltzers, and a few joints made of flower grown right from Kiara’s secret spot in the garden. And while the rest of the Pogues eventually found their ways inside and to sleep, JJ and you probably drank a bit too much. One thing led to another, and that was the first night you hooked up. It was slow, passionate, and clumsy, and while the both of you would later blame it on the alcohol and the weed, deep inside you were both fully aware that it was simply the end result of months of pining.

And that’s how you found yourself waking up on the hammock above the bait shop in only one of JJ’s t-shirts and a pair of underwear. The combination of the blinding North Carolina sunrise along with John B.’s extremely loud footsteps on the floor below practically forced your eyes open. While you play the night before over in your head, trying to piece it all together, you’re scrambling to get the rest of your clothes on.

Running downstairs with your shoes untied, you let out a huge “oof” as you collide with your brother, almost sending the two of you to the ground. 

“Good morning to you, too, sis,” John B. says, his eyes expressing his confusion at the fact that you obviously slept upstairs last night.

“Oh, um, sorry, JB, I guess I just drank too much last night and crashed on the hammock,” you practically vomit out.

“Riiiiight,” John B. responds, clearly not convinced but nonetheless wholly uninterested in this situation in the first place. “Just, uh, go shower. You stink.”

Assuming John B.’s comment is a joke, you let out a laugh that immediately sounds forced. “Yeah, uh, that’s what I planned on.”

John B. shoots you a thumbs-up before making his way behind the counter, clearly prepping to open the bait shop for customers. Deciding to avoid any more awkwardness between the two of you, you begin to make your way back to the house. However, your brain can’t help but consider the possibility that only more awkwardness awaits you back in the house, which you’re really not ready to process. You spin around to face John B. at the entrance to the bait shop. “Hey, uh, is JJ up?”

John B. doesn’t even look up from whatever he’s doing at the counter, clearly focused on something else. “Yeah, he took his bike to the grocery store about ten minutes ago, I think.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, and then turn back around to make your way into the house. Occupied with trying to wrack your brain about what exactly happened last night, you again stumble into someone else as you walk through the kitchen.

“Ow,” Sarah squeaks. 

You immediately apologize, looking her in the eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just, uh, didn’t sleep well last night,” you explain, hoping she’ll move out of the way so you can make your way to your bedroom upstairs.

But Sarah, unfortunately, has the attention to detail that your brother lacks. Looking you in the eyes, her brows furrow. “Did you sleep outside last night?”

You scratch your head. “Uh, yeah. Just, uh, crashed after all those drinks, you know?”

One thing that Sarah does share with your brother, however, is her unwillingness to let things go. Clearly noticing that something is on your mind, her eyes stare into yours, as if she thinks that she can figure out everything about you based on your facial expressions alone. And evidently, she can, because she then proceeds to whisper-yell, “Y/N, is that a hickey?”

She lightly taps a new bruise on your neck that JJ must have left last night, and you can feel your cheeks heat up at the action. You bat her hand away, and she smirks when she realizes what you must be hiding. 

“I don’t have time for this,” you blurt out, before maneuvering yourself around Sarah and walking over to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Whatever you say,” she taunts behind you, and you can practically hear her giggle as you make your way up the steps. 

Once you get to your bedroom, you lock the door behind you. Sliding down the wall, you let out a sigh, grateful that you met no more obstacles on the way upstairs. But as soon as your butt hits the ground, reality comes crashing down, and you realize that you have a much harder obstacle to deal with than running into one of your friends in the hallway. Instead, you have to deal with the fact that you slept with JJ Maybank—the man you’ve known practically your entire life who not only happens to be one of your closest friends, but even more than that, is your brother’s best friend. Yeah, you’re screwed.

For the next few days, JJ avoided you at all costs. He didn’t want to face the consequences of what you’d done, and was worried more than anything that his friendship with you (and John B. for that matter) would be ruined. And while you had the same idea for a while, within only a few days you decided that talking about it was the only way to move forward. Knowing JJ’s extensive dating history, you were convinced that JJ would only tell you that it was a mistake and a regret. You prepared yourself for the negative, and found him alone at night in the employees-only area above the tackle and bait shop.

You carefully tiptoe up the stairs to prevent JJ from getting spooked and immediately bailing on the conversation. When he notices your presence, he shoots up from where he was laying on the hammock, just like you had anticipated. “JJ, we need to talk—”

“Y/N—”

“No, please, JJ, just let me speak,” you clarify, before walking closer to him. 

Realizing he doesn’t have any other choice, JJ sighs, gesturing for you to continue.

Working up the nerves, you wring your hands, preparing yourself for a moment that seemed more daunting than any of the actually threatening experiences you’d had with the Pogues over the last few years. “You know me, Jayj. You know that I don’t have one-night stands or casual relationships. And I can’t go on like this, pretending like what happened between us is normal or that I can just ignore it. I know that you’ve probably never had feelings for me, but if I don’t tell you this now, I’ll regret it. I… I like you, JJ.” Taking a breath, you step back, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of your chest. Only now, you have to brace yourself for the inevitable rejection.

Looking into JJ’s eyes, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, and that’s nothing short of terrifying. You’ve known JJ since he was a kid, and he’s not the best liar, so you can usually tell what he’s feeling from the moment you see him. But this time, you’re clueless, and the silence is deafening.

“JJ, please say something. If you’re going to tell me you don’t like me back, then just say it so we can move on and put this behind us.”

He brings his hands to his face, trying to piece the words together. “Just, uh, gimme a minute.” You nod at him, before moving to sit where he’d previously sat on the hammock. You swing your knees up to your chest, hugging them in comfort. 

You watch as he paces the floor around you. It’s not long before he speaks, but it feels like hours as you wait. 

“Y/N, I… We’ve been friends forever. You, me, and John B. It was the three of us for the longest time and then Pope came and then Kiara and… Uh, I’m getting off track.” He starts fidgeting with the ring on his thumb as he looks down at the ground, preparing for what he’s about to say next. “I won’t lie—you’ve always been hot. Like super fucking hot. And I’m not good at relationships or whatever, but I… I like you, too.” 

And your ears can’t believe what they’re hearing, so your head immediately jerks up to meet his eyes. “Wait… you do?” 

He nods, and you can feel a smile beginning to form on your face. “Well, then, why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. 

“Because it doesn’t matter,” JJ answers, and your heart immediately sinks in your chest, once again. “I can’t do this to John B., Y/N. I just can’t.”

“Who cares about him? He’ll get over it. John B. is not my problem.” 

“That’s the point, Y/N! He’ll be there for you no matter what. But the Pogues are basically all I have left. You and John B. are my family, and if I mess shit up with you, I’ll lose you both. And I can’t do that to myself.”

“You won’t mess it up, J,” you reassure, though part of you understands what he’s getting at.

“When have I not messed something up? I mess shit up all the time, and you mean too much to me for me to risk it. You need to go and find someone out there better than me, because as much as it’ll hurt me to see you with someone else, it’d be a lot worse if you were in pain and I was the reason. It’s because I’m in love with you that I wish we’d never done what we did,” he blurts out. 

And while you were trying your best to listen to him carefully, all you heard was him telling you that he’s in love with you. “You… You love me?” you whisper, and JJ’s eyes go back to the floor.

“Of course I fucking do! How could I not? You’re gorgeous and funny and weird and you know me better than anyone else, and I’ll never forgive myself if I ruin shit with you. So just let me go, because this is the hardest thing I’ve had to do.”

As you process what JJ says, he rushes down the stairs. The heavy pattern of his boots hitting the wooden floors grabs your attention again, and you sprint downstairs to meet him before he can run away completely. You grab his hand and pull him towards you. When his head moves, you can see tears in his eyes, even as the sky gets darker. “It’s not okay to just leave me here after telling me you love me back,” you choke out.

“We can’t—we’ll never be together,” he bites back, trying to sound angry. But you can read right through him, and he knows it. You drop his arm and reach up to grab his face with your hands. Your thumb wipes away a stray tear.

“JJ, you’re right: I do know you better than anyone else. And yes, you’re not the best at relationships. But don’t you think that with us it could be different? That maybe because we know each other so well we can figure it out together?”

He begins to shake his head, but before he can get any more words out, you continue. “JJ, I know everything about you. I know the worst things you’ve done and the best things. You’re always calling me a know-it-all, and yet right now you don’t seem to believe me when I tell you that I know we can do this. We can do it, and it’ll be hard, but it’ll be worth it because I can’t picture myself loving anyone else the way I love you.” And as the tears stream down your cheeks, JJ inches a bit closer to you.

“You… You love me?”

“Of course I do, you idiot. How could I not? You’re the sweetest, kindest, funniest, bravest person I know and my life would be so unbelievably boring if you weren’t in it.”

His eyes look all over your face, trying to see if he can detect a lie. But all he sees is someone so convinced in their feelings, so articulate, and he can’t believe that it’s possible but he might just love you more than he did five minutes ago. 

“Let me deal with John B., okay? I get why you’re scared and I would never want to come between the two of you, but you deserve to be loved, JJ. And I want to be the one who gets to love you.” 

As soon as you get the words out, he’s pressing his lips to yours, and you’re so glad he reached out to hold your waist because otherwise you’d be falling to your knees. It’s magical and romantic and you can taste the salty years you’ve both shed. His right hand moves to grab the side of your face and pull you even closer somehow, before moving back down to your waist and squeezing you in anticipation. The two of you break away, panting. He grips you again and gestures for you to jump, which you do, and you wrap your legs around his back. He carries you over to the counter of the bait shop, where he sets you down. Your legs squeeze his, and he grabs ahold of your face with his hands. “Before we um… do anything else… Are you sure?”

You nod immediately. “Babe, I need the words.”

Your heart clenches at the term of affection, and you pull his shirt to bring him even closer to you. “I am absolutely, positively sure that I love you, JJ Maybank.” He grins so wide you start giggling.

He smashes his mouth back to yours, and this time the kiss is hotter and needier. It’s just a mess of clashing teeth, lips, and hands, with little “I love yous” whispered in between. 

JJ tugs on the bottom of your shirt, and you break away so that he can lift it off, throwing it somewhere else in the shop. His shirt follows, but before he can unclasp your bra, you push him back. “JJ, I’m not fucking you in the bait shop.”

“It’s dark out and no one’s gonna see—”

You jump down from the counter. “It’s either in the house or in the Twinkie. Your choice,” you challenge, and he rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on, people do it all the time,” he justifies, and you look at him like he’s grown two heads.

“What on earth are you talking about?” you ask.

“Hooking up in the bait shop, duh. I caught Pope and Cleo on top of the freezer once, and I’m pretty sure I saw Kiara making out with her ex-girlfriend behind the counter.”

You roll your eyes. “You are literally proving my point,” you say, and he scratches his head. 

“Well, I know for a fact that John B. and Sarah hooked up in the bait shop once and I didn’t see anything!” he explains.

“That’s not any better! You’re talking about my brother!” you whine, and JJ starts to see that you’re not budging. 

He lifts you up bridal-style into his arms, and you squeal. “Fine, my lady, my room it is.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Have you cleaned it recently?” you ask, knowing how messy his room gets. 

“Uh… Like, maybe not super recently. But I can make it nice,” he offers.

You squint. “As nice as my room?”

“Yeah, let’s just go to yours,” he says, and you giggle at how easily he gives in. As he walks down the talk, carrying you in his arms, you can see a smirk grow on his face. “But after we’re done, it’ll be as dirty as mine.”

“JJ!”

so... what did y'all think? I might consider making a part two where john b. finds out. is that something y'all would be interested in??

also... feedback is very much appreciated - pls comment, reblog, send asks, etc.!

[rowarn]

everyone stop what you're doing i just had an idea of simon who likes to edge himself.....omg....

afab!reader, no prns, edging obvi, ruined orgasm, simon being selfish <3 not edited oof

when he's fucking you, hips pumping in a rhythm that basically melts your brain. he's got you pinned beneath him in a press, legs spread obscenely wide so your knees are against the bed. he's got you stuck there under his massive weight. you can't do anything but stare up at him with wide eyes as he fucks you.

he looks so good above you, muscles flexing with every movement and his dark eyes lidded with pleasure that he's getting from working his fat cock into your dripping little cunt.

"fuck, that's good," he groans, blunt nails biting into the tender skin under your thighs, "feels so fuckin' good 'round me, love."

you clench around him at the sound of his voice and the corner of his lips twitches up at the blatant, shameless reaction you have to him. he brings one hand up to his mouth, meeting your eyes in a heated stare as he licks the pad of his thumb, quickly bringing it down to press against your swollen clit -- twitchy and sensitive from neglect since he'd just settled for fucking you so far.

"you gettin' close?" he practically coos, making you whimper. the sound goes straight to his cock and god, he loves the sounds you make, "yeah, i know, pretty thing...i treat you real good, don't i?"

you're tightening up around him and he practically feels the breath punch out of his lungs. you're getting close; he's learned all your tells by now. the way your back arches and your mouth open as you whimper his name. you get wetter and wetter, gooey cunt making a nice little mess for him to fuck into. it makes lewd, squelching noises as he sinks balls deep with a slow roll of his hips.

"s-so close, simon!" you cry out, blindly reaching your hands down to press against his hips.

you always do that -- it's adorable. you actually think that'll stop him from sinking deep, deep inside. his cock knocks against your back well, the little pang of pain making your body twitch. usually, he bats your hands away just to be mean and watch you whine. you really think your trembling hands would be enough to stop the powerful movements of his hips.

he's close to his own end. his cock throbs the closer he gets with every deep thrust he gives you. both of you racing to your ends -- it would be so sweet to cum together, he thinks.

but he knows that's not going to happen.

it's his favorite thing to do. he just can't explain what it is he loves about it.

just when his orgasm starts to crest he pulls his cock free from the hot clutch of your cunt. he feels a little bad, he knows you had just fallen over the edge as he did -- leaving you nothing to cum around, little pussy clenching and cumming all empty and no pleasure from it. a sob tears free from your chest and the sound goes straight to his cock. you squirm under his weight as he watches his own cock twitch against your drooling cunt from his own denial, willing himself not to cum untouched at the sight of you cryin' for him. he closes his eyes and waits for his orgasm to wane before he looks at you again.

"simon..." you practically wail in despair, drawing his gaze up to your face. and fuck, you're so sweet for him.

your eyes are teary and he clicks his tongue, "sorry, love...that was mean of me, huh?"

you nod your head, pouting up at him. despite the ruined orgasm, you're still sensitive enough to twitch beneath him when he sinks his cock back into you with a swift grind of his hips.

"let me make it up to you, yeah?"

your sweet, trusting eyes makes his heart melt and he almost feels bad. almost.

because he knows for the rest of the night, he's going to be edging himself using your pretty little pussy until he finally decides he's ready to cum. and he's not going to care if you actually properly cum or not, because this is gonna be about him using you.

by the end of the night, his cocks so hard that it fucking hurts. he'd edged himself more times than he could count, the more he did the less time he got in between. he started simply dipping his length into you and pulling it right back out, eyes rolling at the sticky strings that connected the head to your clenching hole.

"please, simon...please, please, please..." you're breathlessly begging. he has no clue if you'd even properly cum the entire night, he had practically entered a trance and become a mindless beast thinking only with his cock. theres tears on your cheeks, dried and new and the sight is so lovely that he wants to take a picture and keep it on him at all times.

he finally takes mercy, however. your pretty little clit is so swollen and he just has to press his fingers against it. it's so sensitive that you almost immediately start cumming -- this time around his cock, he makes sure of it.

you pull him over the edge with you, letting him dump a nice, hot load into your pussy while you cum nice and hard around him.

when you sag into the bed and sniffle, cutely reaching out for a hug, he can't help but press a kiss against your forehead <3

[harrysfolklore]

grapes - hs

summary: harry won’t let his girlfriend break her new years tradition

folkie radio: i couldn’t let the year end without posting one last harry fic! i really hope 2025 brings us so much content (including hs4!!) happy new year 💘

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The party was in full swing at Jeff and Glenne's house, the air buzzing with anticipation as midnight drew closer. Music thumped through the speakers, and everywhere you looked, people were laughing, dancing, and celebrating the final moments of the year. You were nestled against Harry's side on one of the plush sofas, his arm draped casually around your shoulders.

"You okay, love?" Harry asked, noticing you checking your phone for the time again. "You seem a bit distracted."

You gave him a small smile, fiddling with the sequins on your dress. "Yeah, I just... it's silly, really."

"Tell me," he encouraged, turning to face you properly. His green eyes were soft and curious in the dim party lighting.

"Well, it's this tradition I have. Every New Year's at midnight, I eat twelve grapes - one for each chime of midnight. It's supposed to bring good luck for each month of the new year. My grandma started it when I was little, and I've done it every year since."

Understanding dawned on Harry's face. "And we haven't got any grapes here."

You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment. "Like I said, it's silly. It's just... it would be the first year I haven't done it.”

Harry glanced at his watch - 11:40 PM - then pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. "Give me fifteen minutes."

Before you could ask what he was planning, he was up and weaving through the crowd. You watched him stop to say something to Jeff, who nodded and pointed toward the kitchen.

Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. People were starting to gather around the TV for the countdown, champagne flutes in hand. You tried not to feel too disappointed, telling yourself it was just a tradition, just some grapes.

At 11:57, you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. Harry was slightly out of breath, his curls messier than before, but he was grinning triumphantly. In his hand was a small bowl filled with exactly twelve grapes.

"Harry," you gasped, "how did you-"

"Let's just say I now owe Jeff's neighbor a very expensive bottle of wine," he chuckled, settling back beside you. "Apparently, she's the only person in Beverly Hills who keeps fresh fruit in the house on New Year's Eve."

You felt tears pricking at your eyes as you took the bowl from him. "You went door-to-door looking for grapes?"

"Course I did," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Couldn't let you break your tradition, could I?"

The countdown started, people shouting in unison. "TEN! NINE!"

You quickly counted the grapes - exactly twelve.

"EIGHT! SEVEN!"

Harry pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"SIX! FIVE! FOUR!"

You readied your first grape, heart full of love for the man beside you.

"THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

As cheers erupted around you, you started eating the grapes, one by one, just as you had every year since childhood. Harry watched you with amused affection, waiting patiently for you to finish before pulling you in for your New Year's kiss.

"Happy New Year, love," he murmured against your lips.

"Happy New Year," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you for this. For understanding how much it meant to me."

He smiled, that soft, private smile that was reserved just for you. "Your traditions are important to me because they're important to you. Even if it means running around the neighborhood at midnight looking for grapes."

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. "I think this might be my favorite New Year's tradition yet."

"What, the grapes or the kiss?"

"Both," you decided. "Definitely both."

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji coming home late from a job, exhausted and knowing he messed up with you, again. All he wants is to be comforted by your warm body and to hear you talk his ear off before going to bed together, but instead he finds you fast asleep on the couch. He watches your curled up frame for a minute or two, feeling the achey heaviness of guilt in his chest. He promised you a movie, but things at work didn't go as smoothly as they normally do, and because of it, he's home later than he thought he would be. He doesn't blame you at all for losing your patience and succumbing to your tiredness, rather than fighting it, for his sake.

He smiles softly, admiring the bliss in your features, before quietly heading off to the bedroom to grab some clothes so he can tidy up before he even thinks about touching you.

Toji sees your shower products next to his, and though he doesn't plan on putting them on, like he has before in a state of longing for you, he does pick them up to take a whiff. The smells are as sweet and comforting as you. They help him wind down a little more after the day he's had. Your shampoo and body wash managed to distract him a bit. He stood there frozen, thinking of you as water cascaded down his body, until he remembered that you're in the house, sleeping on the couch, still waiting to see him. He expedites his shower, quickly gets dressed, and hurries up with his hygiene routine so he can get back to you.

When Toji returns, you're in a new position with your limbs all sprawled out. He watches you for another minute or so— you are the image of pure comfort on that old couch. Just being next to you could pass on the effect to him, but you're so enticing, and he really wants to be in that bubble of serenity with you. Before his proper judgement convinces him to carry you to bed, he's crawling between your legs, his eyes on yours the entire time, to make sure he doesn't wake you before he even starts adding his weight onto you.

Your sleep ridden eyes feel heavy as you peer them open and look at the man nuzzling himself into you. You hear the smallest little groans, almost like purring, as Toji continues to try and mold his body into yours. He knows he doesn't fit with you on this tiny couch, but you're so warm, and you smell like the body wash he inhaled in the shower. He's going to make it work.

"Hey, Toji," you mumble, dazedly, still half asleep. He almost melts at the feeling of your fingers running through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp with every passing. Your other arm comes up to rest on his back. He then realizes he's not close enough. Being right on top of you, with his head on your chest... Not close enough.

"What?" You laugh when Toji starts shifting again, those soft hums returning as he presses himself into you even more. He wants to be greedy and take all the comfort you can possibly give him. "Did you..." you giggle when he settles, his face buried in your neck. "Did you miss me?"

"Miss" is an understatement. Toji was ready to come home and cozy up in bed with you. He was ready to distract you from whatever movie you decided on, with kisses. He was ready for things to evolve into something more. He thought about this all day, and he's home now, and it's not at all what he thought it would be. The sad part is, you're not even mentioning these ruined plans. You're not upset with him for being home so late, you're not giving him the cold shoulder. You're the same loving girl he discussed these plans with in the morning and it makes him feel like a total asshole.

"Mhm. Are you comfortable sleeping like this? I can't move."

"Yes, Toji," you respond, immediately, though you know he's exaggerating. The question lures a soft laugh out of you. "You're acting like this is the first time you've ever plopped yourself down on me."

"Just making sure, doll, 'cause I don't wanna move," he says, with total honesty this time.

"You don't have to. You're the warmest blanket in this house. I scored by getting crushed."

"Yeah? I'm flattered." You can hear the smirk in his voice so clearly.

"And i'm flattened."

Silence. Crickets in the background. Everything is so still, you could hear a pin drop, and to make matters worse, you laughed at your own joke.

"I should go back to sleep," you say, knowing that when your nonsensical thoughts start spilling out, it's time to get some rest.

Toji's grin has yet to straighten out. He can tell you're still tired. He laughs, a sharp breath through his nose, at your ridiculousness. "Silly girl. Are you cold?"

"Impossible. I have a bear on top of me."

"Want me to go get the blanket? Wanna go to the room?"

"Stooooop, i'm fine." You kiss to the top of his head. "Goodnight, Toji."

"Can you do that thing you always do?"

Without a word, your hand goes to the back of his head, and your fingers begin coursing through his hair, again, your nails dragging gently along his scalp, like before.

Toji sighs, contented and entirely at ease. "'night, doll."

[ashlynlovestlou]

ellie fucking you in the middle of the night <3

cw: smut , nsfw , men dni , strap usage , reader sits on ellie's face , dom! ellie , sub! reader , kinda vanilla , reader and ellie's relationship is a secret , y/n used (im sorry) , sitting on ellie's face

masterlist

daily click

☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

the problem is, you dont want to keep things casual. you said it because it felt like a thing you should say when you start fucking your best friend. now, you're lying in bed wearing ellie's shirt, wishing shed sneak down the stairs and crawl in with you.

you try to talk yourself out of it so many times. you'd already almost got caught once. but your body doesn't care and neither does your heart. you want her hands in your hair, her warm skin against your own.

which is why you creep through a dark house and up the stairs, keeping to the edges to avoid any creaking that might wake up joel. one peek into his room at the top of the stairs and you see him sprawled like a starfish. your lips curve up at the sight and then you very, very gently shut his bedroom door before padding down to the secondary bedroom as the opposite end of the hallway.

the door is closed and no light shines from beneath. you twist the handle and walk right in. her curtains are open and ambient light from outside filters in through the massive windows. the door clicks shut behind you and you walk across to the king-sized bed. much like joel, she is all long, muscular limbs stretched out in the middle.

unlike joel, you don't turn away.

you press one knee onto the mattress and crawl in her direction. ellie's breaths are deep, and the entire bed has a faint sandalwood smell. you think you'd settle for just lying here beside her, breathing her in.

instead, you kneel at her side. soaking her in, so relaxed. she looks younger—more carefree—like this.

with one hand, you trail the tip of your fingers over her lips—just like you did every time joel had his back on the two of you. a simple gesture, just to remind her you were there, even if it was for a moment.

ellie's big strong hand flies up, steely fingers wrapping around your wrist, "y/n."

it's not a question. she knows it's you.

"hi."

"what are you doing?" she asks from behind closed eyes.

"touching you."

her lips curve up into a sinful smile, "i thought you wanted to keep things casual in front of joel."

"right." you whisper, "it's just that i thought about it and decided being casual is overrated. i want you to touch me too."

a raspy chuckle spills from her as her green eyes open and dive into your own. chills erupt from the back of your neck, racing down your spine and over your arms.

"so, what now?" she asks beneath a quirked brow.

"i don't know." you suddenly feel nervous. you snuck up there with no plan, only knowing you wanted to be close to her, "do you want me to leave?"

she stares at you extra hard now. it's borderline unnerving. the weight of her stare. the way your stomach flip-flops under her attention. you've never felt this way before.

"no, y/n. i want you up here." her voice is soft and deep as she reaches for you. broad hands circle your waist and you squeal as she hauls you on to her, so you're straddling her torso.

"gonna need you to be quiet, baby." she murmurs as her palms slide up over your quads, tips of her fingers dipping inside your underwear at your hips.

all you can do is nod, lick your lips, and watch how good her hands look roaming over your body.

"n-now what?" you practically stutter.

"now you're going to hold on tight to that headboard, sit on my face, and try to keep your mouth shut while i make you come."

before you can respond, she's moved you up, yanked the gusset of you panties to the side, and has her tongue in your pussy.

you gasp and fall forward, holding the headboard like she instructed, more out of needing something to hold on to than because you're good at following directions.

your head falls back when her teeth graze you clit. she palms your ass and holds you close, like she's eating her favorite fruit. her eagerness does nothing but drive you even more wild.

"hmmm," you hum, trying to cover for the string of expletives currently sitting on the tip of your tongue. your thighs shake with the strain of holding yourself over her and fingers dig in hard.

ellie pulls away, only to grumble at you in that deep tone. "baby, i said be quiet. and stop being polite. i told you to sit on my face." the hand gripping your underwear yanks you down hard so that you're fully seated.

she sucks your clit and your body bows into her. her hand slides up from your ass, over your hip, stomach, and up to your breast, where she gently caresses you. she holds you. touches you.

she gives your nipple a good, firm twist that has you gasping and grinding against her mouth. all the response you get is a satisfied growl against your core as she continues to lick, and suck, and tease.

you ride her shamelessly. she told you to stop being polite, and so you do. you lose yourself in the sensation, the feel of her skin on yours. the smell of her wrapped around you.

there's something empowering in asking for what you want. to be touched when you want. and you're drunk on that—drunk on her—when everything inside you clenches. when that pressure builds so quickly, so intensely, you can't hold back... you shatter.

you feel like you blew apart into a million little pieces. your skin is hot, your eyelids feel heavy. and as much as you try to stay quiet, you can't.

her hand shoots up over your mouth and you slump into it, using her arm to prop yourself up while you cling to the headboard.

"ellie," you whisper as she moves you down. her limbs are moving and there's fabric rustling around you, but you're too incoherent to keep up, "ellie."

"y/n, baby. i told you to stay quiet."

your brain is too addled to care. "more." you fold yourself over her, dropping your head into the crook of her neck and kissing her there. your teeth graze over the lobe of her ear, and you realize she's removed her boxers while you blacked out. and, she had put on her strap that she conveniently kept in her nightstand.

"more?"

you nod, feeling her throat move against your forehead as he swallows. "more."

her hands move firmly, all business, as she removes your underwear. then she sits up, leaning against the headboard and taking you with her.

you can feel her hard length propped against your ass as she positions the two of you.

her eyes stay on your face as she reaches down to grip the hem of her shirt. the one she gave you to sleep in when she walked you to the guest room door and told you it might help you miss her less. right before she smirked that annoying, i'm-right-and-you-know-it smirk of hers.

she wasn't, though. which is why you're here.

your body coils with anticipation again as ellie's gaze rakes over your bare skin.

her hands roam slowly yet purposefully. over your arms, your collarbones. reading you like braille. you think she's always been able to, and you just didn't know it.

"i'm not sure you can handle more, baby." she kisses your chest as your hands move in tandem, feeling her in a way you didn't get to earlier. "you're not very good at keeping quiet."

"i'll be good," you murmur, grinding your pussy back on her and feeling her steely silicon dick twitch against your ass.

suddenly her lips are on your nipples and your hands are raking through her hair. she reaches between the two of you, urging you up onto your knees, you move obediently, and in return, you're rewarded by the sensation of her faux cock sliding against your pussy.

back and forth. back and forth. your eyes flutter shuts she tortures you. one hand grips your shoulder while the other is fisted around her length. you swivel your hips, feeling her crown notch inside you.

"goddamn, honey. you're even better than i fucking dreamed," she mutters roughly. then she shoves herself in, and you bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. because no one and nothing has ever felt this good.

your eyes snap open as your body adjusts. the light sight of her taking you so roughly has the blood thrumming through your veins at a rapid pace. your heart pounding even harder than before.

you stare at each other. her cock is buried deep inside you his.

"move, y/n. show me how bad you want it."

your pelvis undulates because you do want it. you lift and you drop back down, feeling every thick inch of her as you do. reveling in the way her eyes widen before taking on a more hooded appearance.

what starts off slow and deliberate comes apart at the seams. hands that were searching are now gripping.

breathing that was even is now choppy. everything is hot and damp as you writhe together in silence.

you don't need words. they wouldn't do justice to something that feels like this anyway.

"you're gonna come on my cock now, aren't you, baby?" she growls roughly, breathlessly, against your ear. your body shudders in response. "i can tell. your eyes give it away, even in the dark. then every muscle on you goes all tight. you ride me so damn hard. so eager. so warm. so fucking tight."

you're so full of her. her words. her body. it's too much, and right when youre about to go barreling over that edge again, she kisses you soundly, swallowing the sound of you screaming her name as you come.

with a fist full of your hair, she pumps into you hard.

spilling herself, filling you up thoroughly right as your orgasm rocks you. flays you. leaves you slumped in her arms, desperately trying to catch your breath.

you don't know how long the two of you stay like that. you straddling her lap, her cock snugly inside you, clinging to each other and kissing. slow, languid, deliberate kisses that make your throat ache with their tenderness. eventually they slow and ellie tolls you off her carefully.

always carefully. even when she's rough with you, shes so damn intentional. you feel nothing short of pampered with her. and when she gets up to retrieve a warm washcloth, the point is only driven further home.

"what are you doing?" you breathe the words, trying to stay quiet as she comes to kneel between your splayed legs.

"taking care of you."

the warm cloth swipes over your swollen core and you let out a soft moan. "you don't need to do that."

she continues wiping you gently. "but i want to."

you're struck silent by such a simple sentence.

you lie in ellie's bed, letting her take care of you. and when she's finished, she lifts the covers, crawls in behind you, and holds your body against hers all night long.

[theosbaby]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ casually thinking about...

flashing mattheo during an argument

NSFW content ahead, +18

one second, he's shouting some unintelligible shit at you, and the next one, he's almost drooling at the sight of your pretty tits, naked just for him to see. he's falling silent in fucking milliseconds. but god, they're so bloody perfect... how could he not stare at them?

It's not fair, you know he loves them, and you use that knowledge against him. every. fucking. time.

he can't even remember what you were fighting about in the first place, not that he cares anymore, anyways. your full, round tits have him fucking mesmerised, the only thing in his mind at the moment being his feral need to bury his face in them and never come out again, not even for air.

"baby," he would growl, eyes not able to look away from your boobs.

you swear you can see a faint blush appear on his cheeks as you tell him, "i don't wanna fight anymore." you pout cutely at him while you're still tugging your top over your breasts, the piece of clothing it's so small that mattheo wonders how they were fitting inside it in the first place.

"me neither," he replies quietly, starting to walk towards you, not being able to stay away for a second more. "i'm sorry, a'ight?"

"it's okay... 'm sorry too," you also apologise, a little smile tugging at the corner of your plump lips as you watch him leaning forward to wrap his strong arms around you, lifting you up so your tits are right on his face.

and when he finally gets to bury his face in your glorious tits, he's not letting go. he's dragging you to his bed and dropping you in it without pulling an inch away. he lays on top of you, between your spread thighs, lips kissing your soft, pillowy flesh.

"fuck, i love these," he'd mumble against your chest, his hands squeezing your sides tightly. "so fucking perfect."

you chuckle softly at that, which makes your tits bounce slightly, and god, the sight makes him hard in seconds. he hums contently against the supple flesh of your boobs as he teasingly starts sucking and licking your tits everywhere but your nipples, alternating between the two as if he can't decide which one he wants to focus on.

his hands are roaming over your body, groping and caressing your curves as if he's re-learning them. he's squeezing your thighs, your ass, and occasionally, going up to your soft tummy, rough finger pads making goosebumps erupt in your skin.

you don't disturb him, letting him play with your boobs as he pleases while you run your slender fingers through his unruly curly hair. sometimes, you caress his face tenderly, watching with heavy lidded eyes while he worships your body. you find it cute, how much he loves your breasts. he's always wanting to touch them, lick them, kiss them... and it fucking turns you on so much, because you're so sensitive there.

you moan when finally settles on one nipple, sucking on it hard while his hand kneads the other breast. he'd push both boobs together, his mouth dropping the already hard peak he was sucking on to lick at the other. his hips are bucking against you the whole time, grinding his hard on against your drenched core.

he's definitely leaving marks, which you complain about, but he just looks up at you, pupils blown, and says, "they're mine, aren't they? i'll mark 'em if i want to."

after that, he slips his hand inside your shorts and panties, finding you completely soaked for him and that fact makes him groan as he returns to suck on your perky, reddened nipples. his fingers rub your swollen, little clit, making you whimper and squirm beneath him, but he uses his free hand to grab you and keep you still while he stuffs you full of his fingers, burying them knuckles deep. he's making you cum in minutes, orgasm so good that feels like fireworks exploding inside your tummy.

and then, once he's satisfied you, he rips both of your clothes off and makes you ride him. he'd be such a mess beneath you as he watches you jump on top of him, little whimpers escaping his lips against his will. the sight of your perfect tits bouncing right on his face while your tight little pussy squeezes his cock makes him cum so fucking fast that he's almost embarrassed... almost.

more.

[wolviensabes]

Logan and pregnancy.

RQ: 'Logan taking care of his pregnant girlfriend perchance 🤔' -@wheezyth3dem0n

Warnings: F!reader, pregnancy themes, written in HC style.

A/N: I just wrote pregnancy hcs on my main blog so let's keep the theme going. Ignore grammar mistakes, not edited.

Logan knows you're pregnant instantly when the scent of your hormones change.

He looks to you and he isn't sure how to feel just yet. He hadn't planned on getting you pregnant, it wasn't something that he ever thought about. But it was his reality now, and he wasn't too sure on how to feel.

He was just a little wary jumping into something so permeant, considering your lifestyles. The dangers that are involved, all he thought about was how the baby would be in constant danger. Especially knowing it would most likely be mutant.

You were a little hurt, knowing he was a bit standoffish since the discovery, but after some thinking he had come around and explained what he was thinking about, and how he was just worried about its upbringing. It was reassuring that he comforted you in this sense, even if it initially hurt when he backed off.

"M'sorry, this is all...new to me. I never thought I'd be a dad...of all people." Logan grumbled to you, rubbing your back to try to reassure you that he was happy, it was just...a lot for him to take in.

When you begin to show, Logan's presence starts to become more and more. His missions are spread out a bit more, and he spends more time around you. At first, your pregnancy is mostly independent, besides him being around in the evening. You figure it's because he's still processing that you are carrying his kin, but as he starts to come around more often, you're surprised but decide not to mention it.

Logan starts to observe you closer, his hands often find your belly and rub it. He can hear the heartbeat, and he leans closer so he can rest by your belly. Most nights are like this when he's not holding you. He pays close attention to your habits, as well as schedule, memorizing everything you do day to day. When you get a little bigger, he notices daily tasks are a bit more difficult for you.

"Let me help," Logan insisted gruffly, watching you try to pick up clothes for laundry. He worded it more like a demand than offer, he didn't like how you were bending over so often.

"I got it, Logan, really," your stubbornness insisted you could handle it, but he had his doubts. He could see your clear struggle, he could sense you were tired but you were so stubborn.

"Enough." he demanded and gently pulled you away from the laundry, his arms strong around you and easily maneuvering you around. He sat you down and pointed at you. "Stay." he ordered.

Logan brings you food, he doesn't cook a lot but he still tries. He gets help from Jean or Storm. But he's always the one to bring it to you. He displays a lot of instinctual habits by now, especially since you're showing more now. Something inside him just...triggers when he sees your swollen belly. When you walk around the mansion for some exercise, he is right there with you, his eyes scanning the halls and every single person around you.

He growls at people who come close, he is so insanely protective over you now. It shocks you the first time he about lunges at Scott when he asked you how far along you were. "Logan!" you watched your feral boyfriend literally snarling at Scott.

"Get your eye off her, slim." he hissed, his voice was venomous and mean. Scott was just as surprised, even for Logan he was acting much more aggressive. You pulled Logan along, muttering an apology to Scott along the way.

"Logan what the hell! He was just asking how far I was," you muttered, your bristled boyfriend still had an irritated expression. His nostrils flared as he looked down at you. "Easy...it's fine. He's gone, just relax..." you rubbed your hands over his chest, soothing him from his protective mode.

He piles you into the shared room you have, he gets you all settled on the bed and cozy, there are so many blankets and pillows there and they act as excellent support for your large belly. He makes sure you're as comfy as possible, he fusses a lot by grumbling and making sure you have enough blankets. "Keep the baby warm." he grunts at you, covering you with a blanket as if your baby will get cold.

Logan likes to lay close to your belly, he can hear the baby and smell the change you emit because of all the hormones. He hears the baby moving around too, he enjoys listening to his little one in there.

You end up bound to the bed for a while, your ankles were so swollen and you were weak as the pregnancy progressed. You relied on him and he was more than happy to comply. He rubs your swollen ankles and feet, leaning forward and letting his facial hair tickle your belly.

When you feel your hormones flare, you get emotional and worried about labor and birth, all the normal worries for a mother to be. Logan sits with you and lets you vent your worries, but he is also the voice of reason during your emotional episodes. He always reassured you, telling you it would be alright, he was here with you, and he'd never let anything happen to you.

When your little one does arrive, it will be the most protected baby on the planet, not only the baby, but you too. Like hell anyone will get the chance to harm you with Logan by your side.

Thanks for reading.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Yandere Ghost Smut

afab reader ; nsfw

“This house is totally perfect! You’ll love it,” is what your realtor told you when they finally found a house within your budget. You loved the aesthetics of historical homes, so when they discovered an older house that not only was in your price range, but had just minor damages, they called you immediately. 

You moved in within the month. It didn’t take long to settle into your new home. There was a room with shelves meant for books, and you spent most of your free time there, enjoying the books from your collection that could rival a library. Sometimes, you would feel a sudden chill in the air when reading, and grow pensive. It would feel like someone was watching you. But besides that, nothing was out of the ordinary. You just assumed you were too stressed out and growing paranoid as a result. Everything was fine.

Well, it was. Until you started waking up with strange markings on your body. You woke up one day in a cold sweat, waltzing into the bathroom to wash your face off, only to find what looked like hickeys on your neck and upper chest area. Weird. Did you have bugs in the bed? Was it an allergic reaction to the new detergent you bought for the sheets? You had no idea. 

You were never able to solve the issue because the markings disappeared within a few hours, and didn’t come back again. Once more, you shrugged it off and assumed nothing was amiss. 

Yet eventually, things got even stranger. Your panties started disappearing one-by-one, and you were sure you hadn’t misplaced them. Specifically, your already worn undergarments would disappear from the dirty laundry bin before you could wash them. What the fuck?

“I don’t know, Mary,” you call your best friend one afternoon, “I feel like this place is haunted. And what’s even weirder is I keep getting these wet dreams…like every night. I’m not even sexually frustrated so I don’t know why I wake up wet or with markings on myself.”

“Maybe you got a ghost fucking ya?” She jokes around and you both get a laugh out of that. But for some reason, the deepest part of your being can’t dismiss that thought. 

You begin to grow paranoid and start searching for any signs in your house that someone else is living with you. You decide to enter the dusty attic, and find rather antique furniture and a box containing a photo of a man and a woman. He was handsome, albeit a little creepy looking, but what struck you as odd was woman next to him. She looked eerily like you. You brought the photos downstairs to do some research on your computer, but alas, found no information on the man or the woman. The only thing you found out was that there was a fire that had damaged the property all too many years ago. You felt the creepy sensation of being watched again, and called it quits for the night, opting to get some much needed rest.

That night, you saw him.

————————————————————

It’s midnight when he appears in your room, watching your beautiful self slumber. You were so perfect, all those years ago when you left him, and even now. He loves the way the sheets drape your body, but slowly peels them off to reveal that you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. There is a slight sheen of sweat on your skin as your eyebrows furrow cutely in your sleep. 

His angel must be having a nightmare, but he can take care of that. Gently, he trails his cold fingers over your curves. He admires your beauty, so happy to see you once more. He can’t wait another minute.

While you’re still on your side, he unclasps your bra, relishing the way your tits fall free without the support. They look so beautiful and perfect, he can’t even begin to describe how enchanted you make him feel. 

You roll onto your back. He slides your underwear to the side, revealing your pretty cunt to his ghostly eyes. With a delicate touch, he rubs your clit in small circles, playing with you. 

You gasp at the touch and he smirks. Your shuffling does little to deter him from his objective.

He’s on the bed with you, intently staring at your lower half. He admires your folds and moves them open and closed with his fingers, revealing a leaking hole that was your wetness. With a gulp, he slides your underwear off you, wadding it into a ball, burying his face into it as he takes a whiff of your scent. He’d be tasting the real thing soon enough. Once satisfied, he pockets your undies for safe keeping. He tilts his head down to your lower body, shifting into a more comfortable position. With a breath of anticipation, he slithers his cold tongue over your vagina, moaning slightly at the sensation. 

He’s been doing this every night he could manifest, and it never got tiring.

This time, and he doesn’t know why, you wake up, staring down at the mysterious man in terror as he laps you up like a man thirsting in the desert. You mean to run but you can’t move. You feel something cold and wet tying your body to the bed. You try to close your legs from your violator, but his icu hands grip firmly on your thighs, keeping them wide open for him to shove his face between. 

Under the moonlight, the two of you make eye contact but he doesn’t stop, instead opting to send you a wicked smile. “Good morning, love,” he says gently from beneath you. “I missed you so, so much. You know that?”

You’re in a state of shock, words screaming in your head but not quite reaching your vocal chords. The only sound you can make is a whimper as he shoves his tongue further into you, his nose rubbing you causing further pleasurable friction. He sucks, licks, and rolls your clit with his tongue. 

Suddenly, he slides a cold finger into your hole and you gasp, arching your back only to be stuck back down again. “Don’t move, pretty thing,” he scolds you. 

“F-fuck,” you finally manage to whisper, heart racing, “Who are you?”

“Someone who’s been watching you for a very, very long time.” He’s stopped licking you, instead moving to pump another finger into your pretty cunt, thrusting in and out at a moderate pace. His eyes show so much love, desperation, and lust in them that you have no idea what to do or where to go. Then it clicks. The man from the photo. That’s who he was. How could that be possible? Was he an actual ghost?

“I’ve been so lonely without you, princess. When you left me to burn, do you know how heartbroken I was? But now you’re back, and we can finally be together again. I’m not letting you leave me another time.”

He now has three fingers inside of you, picking up the pace. The lewd sound of slick fingers sliding in and out of your cunt drives him wild. His face is back between your thighs again, lapping you up and suckling on you until you’re visibly shaking. 

“Aw, sweet girl. Gonna cum?”

You don’t want to, but you feel something hot and heavy coming.

“Shit. Cum in my mouth, sweetheart. Wanna taste everything you got.” He latches back onto you. 

Your stomach drops and you let go, mind very distressed but body obviously in heaven. Your pussy spazzes out on him and he moans as he licks up the mess you leave behind. With a wipe of his mouth he grins, eying you like a rare prize he had just one at the fair.

He grabs onto you, embracing you in a hug you can’t run away from. Seriously, why can’t you move? He notices your struggles and laughs, snuggling into your chest. 

“Ah ah ah, no running away, love. I’ve waited so long for you. You’re not going anywhere.”

He flips you to where you’re face down, ass up. Your vagina is dripping, juices sliding down your thigh. He licks his lips before biting his lower one, admiring the roundness of your ass and your now puffy and pink pussy. 

“Oh, love. You got no idea what you do to me…”

You feel something cold and hard tap the entrance of your walls, and you freeze. Oh god, was he going to fuck you? His hands are on the sides of your ass, but you feel another set of cold hands grabbing your arms, and even another pulling at your tits. You whimper at the overstimulation.

“Enjoy the hands. They’re all me.”

Before you can reply, he’s sliding his dick through your entrance. Your pussy quivers at the sensation and he laughs. “Did you just come from that, love?”

Once you take all of him, he leans forward to whisper in your ear. “I want to hear you moan, sweetheart. Go on, make some noise for me.”

As he’s taking you from behind, a hand shoves its fingers into your mouth, and you gag on it. The sets of hands on your breasts are now fondling them, pinching and squeezing. You’ve never felt so much at once before, and you eventually yield to the pleasure, moaning as he thrusts into you.

“That’s it, baby. Take it. Take it all. You’re fucking mine,” He snarls, and you whine at how hard he’s pounding into you, ferocity now evident in his demeanor. 

You slurp and suck on the fingers, only for it to pop out of your mouth and slide into your ass instead. You cry out at the sensation. A hand is sliding circles around your clit as he fucks you, sending waves of pleasure over your body you’ve never known before. 

“Too much!” You cry, sobbing with pleasure.

He gives you a kiss on the neck. “Almost done, love. Just keep taking it, okay? You’re doing so good for me. God, you’re fucking perfect.” His thrusts became sporadic, and you know he’s close. 

In the end, you come once more, and you feel he does too. When he pulls out, you collapse on the bed, blacking out. Morning eventually comes, and you feel someone is holding you from behind. A set of hands grope your body as you wake up. 

“Morning, love. Ready for round two?”

[alnilaem]

cw for kidnapping and emotional manipulation

-

Ghost spots a bird across the pub with her wings clipped. She trembles as she watches her friend disappear into the sea of gyrating bodies, holding onto a man she just met and is deciding to abandon her for.

“You don’t mind, right?” Her friend had asked.

She chirped ditheringly. “Um… sure, yeah. You go have fun.”

A fickle smile split her cheeks. A warm wash of liquid glossed her eyes.

Ghost watches her watching her friend. Sadness is written into her features. That type of sadness so deep-seated you feel it crushing your ribs, denting your heart. She sighs and hangs her head, staring down at her drink. Her ice cube has melted, the salt crusting her rim having hardened. Her shoulder start to shake.

Ghost decides it would be remiss of him to not check up on her. The bird with frilly feathers and bent wings, wounded, too feeble to fight back.

He throws back the rest of his drink. He doesn’t wince at the burn, but still, Ghost’s face puckers into something different. Something mean as he approaches her and lays his elbow on the bar’s sticky countertop, splitting his hand across the top of her spine.

“What’s a bird like you doin’ all alone?”

She girdles. It’s like she’s been folded in two and hung out to dry, the way she shrinks into herself and flexes her shoulders.

His words hang stagnant for a few seconds. Perhaps it will make him lose interest and slip away, but Ghost is a persistent one. The badges embroidered into his uniform are a testament to that.

He passes his thumb over her neck. She shivers.

“I… um. Well, my boyfriend’s in the bathroom.”

Ghost almost chuckles. The bird says it with such skittish conviction that surely, not even she believes it.

He grunts. “It’s rude to lie, y’know.”

She gulps. “My friend’s with me.”

“The one that just left you?” He asks. “A pretty shit friend, if you ask me. A bird like you deserves someone better.”

She purses her lips because they begin to quiver. She tries shouldering him away, tries blinking back the fat tears of brine that threaten to thaw and slip down her cheek. Her voice is distorted with discomfort and self-pity when she replies, “That’s stupid. I just want her to be happy.”

“And her?” Ghost prompts. He distracts her with his rough lilt as he slips his hand low, into the divot between her ass and waist. “How often does she fuck off with the men you fancy?“

She flinches. It’s the sudden recoil of her muscles, and her mind’s attempt at getting away from him.

“I-it’s not like that.”

“Yeah?” He asks. “It’s not like she leaves you alone every time you go out, lookin’ like a dolt when she finds someone more fun?”

She swallows thickly. Her lips warble around her next words. “… Sometimes, I guess.”

Ghost’s cock jumps. The fat mass pushes against his jeans, angled towards her.

“Yeah,” he croons. “I know how hard it can be. Why don’t you come over to my flat, huh? Give ‘er a taste of her own medicine.”

She inches away. Ghost only holds her tighter, gripping that broken little wing of hers and doting on it.

“I don’t… do that stuff. Sorry.”

Something primal in Ghost barks. That stuff. She’s never taken dick? Or never taken dick from a stranger? Either way, Ghost’s cock stirs and starts drooling on his thigh. She can probably see it. That blotchy stain on his jeans under the mellow lighting.

“I play nice, bird,” he mutters. “And wouldn’t it be nice to get back at them? Your mate? All those blokes who ignored you?”

She squeezes her thighs when Ghost settles his hand on her ass. She has trouble pulling them back apart, her thighs that is, as they’re adhered with slick.

“I asked you a question. Wouldn’t it be nice?”

“I guess so…” she whimpers. Keening into Ghost’s whispering touch, the heat of his cock.

He pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slams it onto the table. He stands up, looking something like a predator on its hind legs, and pulls her from the barstool.

“Let’s go, pretty bird,” he leashes his hand around the base of her neck, leading her outside and into his rust-spattered truck. “You deserve it.”

A stroke of heat licks up her innards. She’s already dazed by the time she’s in his truck, preening as he splits his hand across her leg and digs divots into her thigh, kneading her supple flesh. She’s bleary eyes and impaired on arousal as they drive past the city’s margins and into the outback, the roads turning pebbled.

She’s too excited, too sweet to heed Ghost pulling her out of his truck and hauling her into a neglected flat.

She only feels his hands on her, big and warm. And the cool carbon steel of handcuffs locking around her ankle.

She smiles.