#but i'm not getting anywhere near those teeth

[anormalkidingotham]

sometimes living in gotham is scary and dangerous but then sometimes you see king shark crying in an empty alley because he got half a car door stuck between his teeth and can't get it out without help

[bunny-jpeg]

all access

simon "ghost" riley

tags: smut/pwp, semi-public sex, train station sex, unprotected sex, size difference/kink, breeding kink, possessive behavior, unhinged and filthy

a/n: inspired by true events

simon missed you. simon missed you more than anything, you were apart for only two weeks and he couldn't take it anymore! he knew he was being a hypocrite, he could leave for over a month for work and come home to a hot meal and a hotter cunt. sate his hunger while balls deep inside of you.

but it was different when you left for two weeks, visiting your mother up in the north and left simon all alone back in london. he needed you, and it was hard for you two to be apart when you didn't have to be. so maybe it was the most gentleman-like when he shuffled you from the train platform into a quiet, dark corridor and told you to get up on your toes so he could have access.

the underground hallway of the train station was near dead at this hour. all the commuters for the evening were already at their homes, nice and comfortable after dinner. but, simon was hungry for something else.

two weeks he had spent without you beautiful cunt. it was hard to go from your soft sex to his rough hand. no amount of photos and (eventually stained) panties could compete with you against him. the differences in size and strengths. he was near six foot-five and his bulk allowed for him to crowd in your space. while it was comforting, it was rather easy for him to pull you up against the concrete hall in the quiet hallway.

"i missed ya, baby." he said as his hand pushed up the skirt you wore, "wore this slutty lil thing because you knew i'd be on edge when you came home." he pressed you further up against the wall with your back arched a little to give him better access to your behind, "give me easy access to what belongs to me, huh? bet those little fingers of yours couldn't do anythin'. missed me, missed my cock." he got his cock out of his jeans, the belt still somewhat around his waist.

there was no time to lose, just because the station was quiet doesn't mean no late night traveler couldn't bound down those stairs and see a man of simon's size fuck a woman of your size out in public. he hiked your skirt up over your ass and got your panties down to your socks before he pressed up into your further. the tip of his cock slipped into your achy sex and you had to cover your mouth to keep quiet.

as much as simon would have loved to hear those moans echo in the hallway, he'd rather not have a citation put against either of you for the act of public sex. it was risky, but it only fueled the fire in simon's belly as he rocked against you. one hand on the wall over your head, the other on your hip. his grip was nice and tight on you, his cock battered against the deepest parts of you.

it was sexual filth, it was hot as he watched you hold back your moans as he fucked you up against the wall. the angle was a little hard given your size differences, but he knew you were into that. if simon was a pervert then so were you. you loved the rough, filthy sex you two had. made your little cunt squeeze around him as he fucked you quickly. no time for tenderness, not when simon was a man on a mission.

he said lowly in your ear, his tone quiet yet dangerous. he fucked up into you and you felt the swim of pleasure in your core as he spoke, "never leavin' me again, right, doll? not goin' anywhere unless i'm with ya." his tone made your head spin and you felt your core get soaked by his words. there was a fury to his thrusts as you tried to stay on your tip toes so he could fuck you up against the wall.

"si." you whispered.

"missed ya too much, thinkin' about ya all the time. thinkin' about your pretty little tits and my teeth marks all over them. your pussy and my cum inside of you. paintin' those pretty insides white." he groaned as he continued to thrust up against you.

the pleasure was mounting, the want in your core made your heart race. everything felt so exposed and it made your head spin. you covered your mouth once more to keep the noises trapped. the hallway remained empty as simon continued to hit up against you in all the right ways.

"need ya, need ya, doll." he said softly, "can't have you runnin' off like that again. not without me, i know, i know. i'm bein' all possessive, but can't fuck my hand anymore. not when i got my baby's sweet cunt to bury in." he purred lowly, his voice echoed in your body.

he kissed were feverish and you tensed up as he continued to rut up against you with a heated passion. the moans got caught in your throat, and were muffled by your hands. the pace was unsteady, a forceful need to lay claim to what it is. his woman, his everything.

"next time." he said, tone still quiet, "bring me, let me meet your mother, show her i'll be a good husband to you. i know she's been askin' about grandkids." his large hand grazed your middle and your stomach did a flip. he gave your stomach a pat and said, "might as well start workin' on that. visit your mum in a year with my chunky little son at your hip. riley boys, little hell-raisers."

that sent you over the edge. you near hit the wall with your hands as you clenched around him. you grit your teeth as pleasure hit down on you. it left you dizzy and slumped against the wall as you started to feel the after lingers.

"beautiful, my beautiful girl." he purred as he continued to rut against you. he continued to fuck your pretty body to his liking. a few more quick ruts and he finished inside of you with a deep exhale as he tried not to be too loud. it felt amazing, your cunt clung to him perfectly. he rocked against you a little further until he stopped and gave your ass a pat, 'that's it. perfect." he said with a immense sense of love before he bent down to get your panties back over your plush behind.

you couldn't form your words and instead leaned against simon as he took your suitcase and led you back to his car to bring you home. he lifted your suitcase like a real gentleman as the cold air brought you back to your senses.

his cum stuck to your panties while he opened the car door for you and even buckled you in. you whispered "i love you" when he got into the other side. he kissed you and replied, "i love you too, doll. but next time, i should come with ya. be with my baby's mama." he gave you a cheeky wink before he patted your thigh before he pulled the car out of the lot. a promise of a proper homecoming once you got back to your flat <3

[cuteandhughesy]

Couldn’t Make It Any Harder | Leon Draisaitl

summary: you and leon draisaitl hate each other. point blank period. your best friend, lauren and her fiancé—as well as leon's teammate—connor are sick of it. they conjure up a plan that ends with you and leon sharing a rather passionate kiss. after that, you can't tell how much you and leon actually hate one another, but with lauren and connor’s wedding coming up, you both have no choice but to try and get along.

[word count] 18.9k

warnings: NSFW! enemies to lovers | bickering | angst with a happy ending | kissing | drinking | overall petty behaviour | reader deals with unwanted advances in a bar | leon punched a guy and there’s blood | smut | oral (f receiving) unprotected p in v intercourse | mature themes and dialogue | read at your own discretion

a/n: i’ve been saving this idea for the right player and as soon as my brain put leon with this plot….it was a done fucking deal. i’m so obsessed with this idea, and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as me ❤️‍🔥

🎵 couldn’t make it any harder by sabrina carpenter, you're so vain by carly simon, don't leave by snakeships, haunted by beyoncé, false god by taylor swift, + no i'm not in love by tate mcrae

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the crunch of the nut between your teeth echos through your skull, the slightly sweet taste accompanied by the perfect salty aftertaste wrapping around your tongue and attacking your tastebuds. you chew the beer nut slowly, like you're savouring each one you toss in your mouth like it's a game.

after all, it is a game. maybe not the actual eating part, but the part where you keep your eyes trained across the dimly lit bar, gaze never filtering from his as he too tosses individual beer nuts in his mouth.

you're waiting patiently for him to crack—pull a disgusted face, which inevitably he will do. because leon draisital hates beer nuts almost as much as he hates you. you know leon's distaste for the bar snack only because you heard him say the very first time you met 4 years ago, ironically in a bar.

your friend, lauren insisted that you had to meet her boyfriend's teammate—the infamous leon draisaitl. you let her drag you out to a local edmonton bar, one that was too dark and smelt like leather. you let her hype leon up like he was a trophy—like he was going to be your new best friend. but leon was not a trophy. he was pissed off, and when you smiled at him, he scowled in response. and when you tried to give him a handful of beer nuts as a piece offering, leon said; 'I fucking hate those things.'

you tried to chalk it up to a bad night, or maybe even a shitty week. but as months passed, leon never changed. he hated you. if he wasn't completely avoiding eye contact with you, he'd roll his eyes. if you were in the same room, he'd make sure he was across it and far away from you. if leon was anywhere near you, he'd make sure you knew he didn't want to be there. so in return, you decided you hate him more. and oh god, as the years have gone by has that hatred brewed and constricted into an endless loathing and bickering cycle.

slowly, you grab another beer but between your red painted finger nails—red because it's leon's least favourite colour—and bring it up to your lips. you let it rest there for a moment, testing him. is he going to do the same thing? is leon going to play the copy game? just as slow as you, leon reaches into his own jar of beer nuts on the other side of the bar, his much larger fingers bring a single nut up to his lips.

your lips part, and you toss the nut into your mouth. leon does the exact same. you chew as slow as you can once more, savouring the combined flavours because that means leon has to do the same, and you know it must be torture.

and that makes you smile.

just when you think you're going to have to repeat the whole process, there's the smallest pull of disgust across leon's face, and he takes a large gulp of his beer to wash down the nut.

your grin smugly, and without breaking eye contact, you raise the entire jar of beer nuts to your mouth and down the entire thing. you chew happily, and then look away with a satisfying feeling low in your belly.

you spin off the bar stool, fully intending to slink through the crowd until you find one of your friends and then force them to dance with you to take your mind of the german red flag across the bar. but as soon as you spin, you're meeting the eyes of lauren soon to be mcdavid—also known as your best friend.

you jump, a hushed curse passing through your lips as you clutch your thumping heart.

"what are you eating?" lauren asks like she didn't just send your stomach down to your ass. her blue eyes dart over your shoulder to briefly look at the empty jar before she curiously looks back at you.

you're still chewing the mouthful of beer nuts you just shoved in your mouth like a deranged chipmunk. "beer nuts." you say, although it sounds more like deer guts through your full mouth.

but lauren hears you perfectly fine. "beer nuts?" she asks, "seriously? are you and leon playing that stupid game again?" the words beer and nut combined together never fails to send a shiver through your best friends spine—mostly because she knows their tied to leon and your hatred for one another. and then when she remembers that her best friend and her fiances best friend hate each other, she gets another shiver and the whole thing repeats itself.

you swallow the remainder of food roughly, "it's not a game to me," you huff ludicrously, "he's the childish one that feels the need to copy every single move I make—"

"alright," lauren sighs, cutting off the ramble that was surely about to happen, "I get it. i've heard it enough times now, I think I could recite it for you—I'll save you the breath." her tone isn't serious, but you know your and leon's hatred upsets her.

you sigh softly, falling back against the backrest of the bar stool. lauren slips into the empty seat beside you, flagging down one of the bartenders and ordering herself another sex on the beach. once she's done, she turns to look at you. "are you guys going to be able to get along for the wedding?"

the wedding in question is her own—a wedding in which both you and leon where apart of. as much as you love your best friend, and you're looking forward to the royal wedding of the hockey community, you've also been dreading this summer for the exact same reason. and that reason being having to be apart of the same wedding party as leon fucking draisaitl.

your eyes dart back across the bar, and you find that leon is already looking in your direction. he's not alone now, connor and one of connor's childhood friends are sitting with him—chatting and laughing like they have no care in the world. once your eyes meet, leon looks away.

you roll your eyes before looking back at lauren. "if there's no beer nuts there, everything should be hunky dory."

the dig at leon doesn't go unnoticed by her, and lauren sighs again. "y/n, i'm being serious." her and connor's wedding is just under two weeks away, and she honestly didn't think she'd still be dealing with the bickering between you and leon—but here she is, stepping on eggshells around you both.

you frown and run a hand through your bouncy hair. guilt laces through you, "you're right, i'm sorry. I know it's important to you, and i'm trying my best but god, he just...frustrates me so much." you laugh like it's a joke, scratching at your arms as if you're trying to crawl out your body. "I feel like my body is on fire when he's around."

lauren nods emphatically, leaning against the side of your body like she's giving you a hug without arms. "I know it's hard but please, just try. for me."

lauren was one of those girls who has been planning her wedding since she came out the womb. when she was 10 she already had one of those scrapbooks that detailed everything she wanted included on her big day. she's been planning the entire wedding without a planner simply because she wants to. that combined with her clothing brand, you know lauren has enough stress on her plate without having to worry about you war with the german superstar.

that's also a reason you told her not to worry about your birthday that falls in a few days because you knew she had enough to worry about, and planning your party like she does every year needs to be the least of her worries. but you caught her ordering custom balloons two days ago, and you knew you shouldn't attempt to stop her. once lauren has her mind set on something, it's hard to change it.

reluctantly you nod, and a slow smile begins pulling at your lips. your wrap your arms around your small blonde friend, resting your cheek on the top of her head. "of course. i'll be good."

even though leon is the problem, your brain reminds you rudely. you ignore it though, because that's the last thing you should say to her right now.

you feel lauren relax in your arms, but not completely which makes you a bit anxious and feel even more guilty. "thank you." she pulls away, grabbing at your hands and pulling you both off the bar.

the tender slides her drink on the bar top, which connor had already paid for (praise that nhl money), and lauren downs the entire thing instantly. "let's go dance—this is my jam!"

"usher is your jam?" you laugh curiously, letting her bring you out into the heart of the dance floor.

she nods like it's obvious. "oh yeah," lauren's sarcasm is clear, "scream is actually going to be my first dance song."

you cackle your usual loud laugh, falling into lauren's arms as you both dance along to the upbeat bass. "you're such loser!"

"I know!" she smiles, spinning around so fast that her hair smacks your face. "but you love me!"

hours later, after connor has ordered you an uber and sent you home, him and lauren slide into their own. he can tell something is weighing on his fiancés mind by the silence lingering between them, gnawing on the skin of her thumb which she only does when she's anxious.

"hey," connor starts softly, "what's wrong, babe?"

his question is the final nail in the coffin, and immediately lauren is whining, falling against his shoulder dramatically. "what are we going to do?"

"what?" he questions, wildly confused. connor slips his fingers through lauren's straight hair, twisting the strands around his index finger to create little ringlets.

she huffs. "about leon and y/n."

connor's hand stills in her hair. "what about them?"

"connor, seriously?" lauren stresses, sitting back up straight as she turns to look at her fiancé like he just suggested they should call off the wedding. "they hate each other."

"they don't actually." connor laughs, pulling her back into his side. lauren goes easily, but her shoulders are still tense.

"they do." she whines again, "and i'm scared it's going to ruin our wedding. I know y/n, she'd never do anything to hurt me on purpose, but leon brings out this side of her and she just looses control." lauren's bottom lip wobbles as she finishes, and connor spots it immediately.

"hey, it's okay." he whispers, kissing her head. "why don't we like...stuff them in a room and make them sort out there differences. leave them for an hour or two and let them figure it out." connor laughs like it's funny, because for the most part his suggestion was a joke.

but lauren freezes, blinking at connor as she registers the idea. slowly, her lips turn up in a smirk. "actually, that's a great idea."

—

"hey!" lauren's cheery voice automatically makes you suspicious. this close to the wedding and a more than chipper tone is the recipe for disaster. she continues, her voice grainy through your phones speaker. "can you do me a huuuuggggee favour?"

there it is. you laugh gently, sitting up from your previously slouched position on your rather uncomfortable love seat, pushing the fraying knit blanket off your legs. "what's up?"

you can hear her smile through the phone.  "okay so i'm totally running late at my hair appointment, and I have the wedding chef coming over in 20 for some menu items for the rehearsal dinner, but i'm not going to be there."

your brow quirks curiously. "okay? what do you need from me?"

"I need you to just be there and make sure he gets settled," lauren says, "I'd ask connor but he's on the other side of town. i'll be there as fast as I can. If you could do this for me you'd be the best bridesmaid ever."

"alright," you chime easily, getting of the leather cushions underneath you. "i'll head over now."

"perfect," she says, sounding suspiciously smug. "you know the code! I can't thank you enough, this will be great."

your brows pull tightly and create a dimple in the middle of your forehead. before you can ask her why she's acting so weird, lauren rushes a goodbye and the line goes dead. you blink in surprise, chalking up her behaviour to pre-wedding jitters.

you toe one some flimsy sandals before grabbing your keys and sunglasses, making your way down to the lobby of your apartment building.

the air is warm, and smells like summer. you drive with the windows down for the entire ride to lauren and connor's condo, the air whipping through your hair and warming your skin.

once you arrive at her place, lenny greats you excitedly, tiny yips leaving his wiggling body as he licks your exposed skin—no doubt getting a salty taste of your fake tan. "hey buddy," you greet just as happily, baby voice in full affect, "I missed you my boy."

your phone pings with a text from lauren, 'I've got some menu samples in my beside table. can you grab them once you're there."

you respond quickly and then put your belongings on the crispy clean kitchen island—lenny at your feet as you move. he almost trips you twice, but he's so oblivious and happy with his tongue half way out his mouth, that you don't even care.

you quickly make your way down to her bedroom, pushing open the door and padding inside the carpeted room. you stifle through her beside table, but the only thing you find is a tangled pair of headphones, random hair ties and way too many sleeping masks.

you frown, but figured lauren just misspoke. you round the end of the bed and to connor's nightstand. like you expected, connor's nightstand is freakishly organized. everything has its own compartment—even the condoms for fucks sake.

behind you, lenny's ears perk up and just as quickly he springs out the room, leaving you alone and more than anything, confused. where are the damn menu samples? you scan the room quickly, hands on your hips as you try and think of where your best friend would stick them. the sound of socked feet approaching have you spinning to face the door. lenny bounds back in first, and then leon appears.

"what are you doing here?" he asks, face nothing but taken back.

you cross your arms, "what are you doing here?"

"I asked you first."

"you're so annoying, oh my god," you groan dramatically, and it makes lenny bark before he's running back out the room. soon enough, you think, you'll be following him. you continue, "i'm helping lauren. she needs me to get some menu samples and then wait for the chef."

leon chuckles like he's in on some joke you've been left out of, his hands tucked causally into the front pockets of his jeans. you grimace at the sight because it's way to hot out to have your legs fully covered. "well I'm here to do the exact same thing. except connor asked me."

you scoff. "lauren said he's on the other side of town and can't be here. that's why she sent me."

"funny," leon scoffs a laugh, "because connor said the same thing about lauren—hence why i'm here."

you drops your arms to your sides ludicrously, looking at leon with the upmost displeasure on your face. "okay, well clearly someone fucked up—you, most likely," you pause and leon rolls

his eyes. "but let's just find these menus so that we can both leave. I don't want to be in a confined space with you for any longer than necessary."

"awh, you're so sweet." leon says, voice dropping with venom and sarcasm. he walks further into the room, movements casual as he brushes straight past you, his bare bicep bumping your shoulder. "you can't find the menu's?"

"no," you stress, following him as he makes his way to connor's beside table. "and I already checked in there."

leon checks anyways and that has you rolling your eyes. "okay, well you're awful at looking for things, so double checking is necessary."

"double checking is necessary," you mock, voice all high pitched an annoying.

he sends you a look over his broad shoulder, "are you done?"

you don't answer, turning on your heels and walking over to the built in book cases that line the entire wall. the shelves they're packed, mostly with aesthetic looking pieces that are so shiny and white they make your head hurt. you begin poking through the collection of books, searching for the menu samples—huffing quietly to yourself anytime you remember that leon is also in the room.

he makes his way over to the book shelves as well, opting to look through the case on the opposite side of the open door. he is still too close for your liking, but you're not going to start that argument. you can't see him past the door, and you can only hear him mutter curse words to himself as his search is unsuccessful.

"why don't you just text lauren and ask her?"

you scoff, "why don't you just text connor?"

"my phones in the car."

"and mines in the kitchen."

"are you seriously that lazy that you can’t go down the hall and get your phone?" he asks incredulously, looking at you over the edge of the door, book shelf long forgotten.

you laugh. "of course not! I just don't feel the need when we can just look ourselves."

leon goes to take a step towards you, because he knows that you’re not looking properly through the books on that side, and he bumps the door, sending it to shut with a dull thud.

your breath hitches as the code system stares back at you. "you better know the code for that."

"why would I know the code?" his eyes find yours, looking at you like you've just suggested world war 3.

you try to open the door, but much to you dismay it's locked. you're locked in a room with leon draisaitl. "no," you whine, jiggling the handle more aggressively in hopes it decides to magically unlock. obviously, it doesn't.

"jesus," he huffs, "relax."

"oh, i'm sorry!" you look at him wildly, "i'm just a little bit upset about being trapped in a room with the spawn of satan—my apologies for trying to get out."

"spawn of satan?" he repeats, words laced with what you're pretty sure is amusement. it makes your blood boil. "don't call yourself that, y/n."

"you must have a death wish."

"oh, I must."

you squint pointedly, lips twitching in a frown. "whatever." you mumble dismissively, turning heel and making your way back to the perfectly made bed in the middle of the room.

leon watches as you sit down on the corner of the mattress, bringing your feet up and resting your arches on the frame of the bed. you're not wearing socks, and your toenails are painted navy blue. he notes that you must've worn some sort of flip flop.

you catch his eyes and scowl. "what?"

"should you really be sitting on their bed? rubbing your feet all over a frame that probably costs more than your monthly salary."

"would you prefer I do jumping jacks?" you question even though you're not wanting an answer. "hate to break it to you draisaitl, but this isn't the first time i've been in this room. or on this bed."

leon snickers, walking towards you. "right, yes I forgot that lauren is cursed with spending time with you."

you roll your eyes and don't say anything.

he continues. "they'll be here soon."

"not soon enough."

this time it's leon who doesn't respond to your condescending comment, but instead slumping down in the sherpa oversized chair in the corner of the room. he picks up one of the table books, some kind of chanel picture one, and begins flipping through the pages.

everytime he flips the page, much louder than necessary, you sigh in exasperation—which only eggs him on.

5 minutes later you hear two sets of feet padding down the hall, and your eyes widen, shooting off the bed so fast that you almost trip over your own feet.

"y/n?" the muffled voice of lauren calls curiously on the other side of the bedroom door. "leon?"

"we're in here." you say, jiggling the handle again for good measure.

"how'd this happen?" connor is the one asking, his voice laced with what can only be described as amusement.

leon joins you at the door. "the door shut obviously."

"no," you correct quickly, "leon's clumsy, big body knocked into it. trapping us." you stress wildly, eyeing the man in question with displeasure.

his brows raise in faux excitement. "you think i'm big?"

your eyes roll again—you won’t be surprised if they get stuck on the next round. you turn your attention back to the closed door, "guys, what's the code so we can get out."

neither lauren or connor answer. your brows pull, arms crossing roughly across your flowing summer top. you can hear their hushed whispers through the door, which only raises your and leon's suspicion.

finally, lauren says, "actually, I think you guys should stay in there."

leon blinks hard. "what?"

"yeah, sorry repeat that, I don't think I heard you right. because it sounded like you want us to be stuck in here together." you add, body feeling hot and itchy as the situation comes to light. or maybe it's just because leon's standing close enough that is cologne is all you can smell—practically choking you at this point.

connor's sighs, "you guys need to work it out."

your eyes flutter in disbelief, and you take a step closer to the door like it's going to change something. "okay, how about we do that somewhere else?"

leon hums in agreement which makes you scowl.

"no." lauren huffs, her voice determined. and you know, like usual, once she has her mind set, she's not going to change it. "in our room. with no escape."

after their conversation in the uber a few days ago, lauren and connor decided that yes, they were actually going to get you and leon together and force you to reconcile. it was actually connor who said they should separately tell you that they needed help with the chef and the menu samples, and then while you were distracted trying to find them—which were actually in the kitchen, not the bedroom—they would shut you in the apartment.

so when they showed up, ready to shut the front door that's unlock didn't work if it was locked from the outside, they were surprised to find neither of you in sight. thanks to their coded bedroom, you'd been already trapped.

to which they say, tomato tamoto.

"this is ridiculous." leon huffs in annoyance, reaching out to tug on the brass door handle. the action annoys you, even though you were close to doing the same.

lauren laughs like it's a joke. "no what's ridiculous is ruining a wedding because you two can't stop lunging for each others necks." her voice is firm, definitive as she continues, "so you have an hour and by then you better be friends. or friendly. whatever."

"you can't serious." leon's laughing is laced with disbelief, not even sparing you a glance as he stares down the wood paneling of the bedroom door.

"deadly." she says, "see you guys in an hour. we're gunna run some errands." her voice slowly begins to fade, walking away and leaving you.

"I thought that’s what you were just doing," you call out.

"we lied."

soon enough you and leon are enveloped in the silence, and once lenny's little nails click down the hall, you are left completely alone.

you exhale a scoff, turning away and practically stomp back to the bed. leon watches you move with an unreadable expression, but you’re too busy throwing yourself down onto the bed to notice.

the blankets puffs around you. its own of those feathered ones that poke you once it starts getting wear and tear, and that makes you more annoyed that it should. but you chalk that up to already being baffled by being trapped in your best friends bedroom.

leon's voice breaks through the quiet room, "well now what?"

you sigh, sliding up onto your elbows to send him an unimpressed look. "don't you know, leon? this is the part where we get out the tea set and play!" the faux smile on your face quickly drops as you finish, and that makes leon rolls his eyes with agitation.

"you're ridiculous."

you don't say anything and send him one more exaggerated grin. you flop back against the mattress. it's actually a heavenly bed besides the blanket, which thankfully hasn't poked you yet.

the first 30 minutes is nothing but silent. the only sounds coming from the air conditioning unit humming lowly through the vents and the blanket shuffling under your body as you squirm. you can't help it, the silence is eating you alive.

"can you stop moving so much?"

you make a show of moving even more as you sit up on the bed, shuffling down to the edge and letting your legs dangle over the end. "i'm a bit restless, you know being trapped in a room with nothing but you and your loud breathing."

leon's brows furrow. "I don't breathe loud."

"you do," you confirm, "it's fucking annoying."

"ah," he chimes, "like your sporadic limbs."

"that's a big word, leon. have you been studying the dictionary like the bore you are?"

he breathes a scoff, "you wish I was a bore, y/n. that way you wouldn't be so obsessed with me."

"obsessed with you," you repeat, laughing, "you are so full of yourself!"

leon stands up, and your face falls, watching him through hooded lids as his jaw ticks, eyes pointed in your direction. just when you think he's going to walk closer to you, he turns, looking through the bookshelves like he hasn't done that already.

you swallow roughly, staring the his back as he moves—slowly—reading the spines of designer books and hockey novels. his tight t-shirt is doing him all the favours, wrapping around his body in a perfect fit to display the muscles he's worked hard on. sometimes, you forget leon is an athlete rather than just your friends friend, and you’re always crudely reminded by his bulging biceps or his abs in the summertime as he lounges by the pool—seeing him like that is a rude awakening.

thinking about leon's abs, dripping with water while he lounges poolside has you feeling a bit funny, and you blink. hard. pulling yourself out of your own head. oddly enough, your mind trickles to lauren and the many times she's referred to abs as washboards.

you sigh gently. getting into a verbal ring with her finances best friend is the last thing she needs to be dealing with right now. a rush of guilt washes over you, and as not only her bridesmaid but her closest friend, you know you need to abide her wishes and figure your shit out.

"leon." you say his name firmly.

he looks at you over his shoulder, one of his eyebrows raised in question as he waits for you to continue.

"we have to stop fighting. for lauren."

leon turns his body completely, facing you. "you think I don't know that, y/n?"

you huff. "I never said that you didn't, leon. but this is my best friend's wedding."

"and mine."

"god, do you always have something snarky to say back?" you ask, exasperated. "this is exactly what we can't be doing. at least i'm trying, leon. ugh! you drive me insane.

his eyes widen slightly, taking a subconscious step closer to you. "and you think you're just some angel?"

you shake your head, shooting off the bed until you're standing—a subconscious attempt at trying to give yourself some leverage. "I think that you're stubborn and can't accept my ideas."

"and what 'Ideas' might those be?" he asks, mockingly.

"we need to pretend to get along," you pitch, voice still laced with venom and irritation. "if we can't get over this thing between us, then we have to fake it. you have to pretend like you can at least tolerate me—that you can stand to be in the same room as me without ripping me a new one."

his expression is unreadable, jaw tight and eyes unmoving as he looks down at you. then, slowly, his gaze changes. "you want me to act like you don't drive me insane?"

your face falls slightly at his tone—a tone that has a weird feeling bubbling low in your belly. you nod.

leon purses his lips, looking away from your face to take a deep, long inhale like he's trying to clam himself. it's making you feel woozy. he looks back at you, something like frustration clouding his expression. "you want me to just pretend that you don't make me want to argue every little thing you say? like everything little thing you do frustrates me in ways I cant explain?"

your lips part, searching for words that aren't there. the way leon is looking at you, with so much tension and frustration has you faltering. you've never been speechless in his presence, and leon knows that—he sees that—and takes the opportunity to continue.

"have I finally got you to shut your mouth? or do you want me to keep going?"

your breathe hitches, a wave of heat flushing over your summer tanned skin. the way his gaze is unwavering and so intense has your blood pumping so hard that the only thing you can hear is the heavy breathing between you.

"please," slips out of your mouth before you can stop it, the plea whiny and surprising to you—desperate.

leon exhales shakily, but the sound is just as desperate as the breath that gets caught in your throat. he lunges towards you, one hand sliding through your hair and tugging while the other finds the dip of your waist, dragging you against him as he kisses you.

his lips caress yours hungrily, sucking and licking along the plump flesh almost instantly. it's hurried and messy and intoxicating. both your your panting is combined, mixing with breathy groans and clashing of tongues and teeth. it's dirty and it's sure as hell needy.

and maybe it’s because you haven’t been with a man in years, or maybe it’s simply because you’re annoyed with the situation. but you want leon.

he grunts into your mouth, fisting your hair hard enough to illicit a whine from you. your hands, which were previously stationed over his torso, running over his shirt like a mad woman, slide into leon's hair, feeling his soft locks between your fingers—painted red nails scratching against his scalp.

his hands cascade down your body, wrapping around the backs of your thighs. before you can register what's happening, leon hauls you off the ground and drops you down against the feather filled duvet.

everything is hurried between you and leon, including the continuing kiss. his hands are running all over your body—up your thighs as he hovers over you, sliding under your summer top and feeling your soft, supple skin. and you're not any better, squeezing his arms and holding his face.

there's a burning tension between you, like there always is, expect now your irritation and frustration is channeled into a kiss—a hot, messy exchange that is leaving you so turned on.

leon's lips trail over your jaw, nipping and suckling along your skin like he can't get enough of your taste. you're withering against him, gasping as his lips travel down your neck, finding your pulse point and sucks.

the beeping sound echos through the room, barley audible over your panting and low moans, but you both hear it. the door is about to open. you pull away from one another at lightning speed, leon getting off the bed completely as he swallows thickly.

you run your hand through your messy hair just as the bedroom door opens, revealing a curious looking connor and a hesitant looking lauren. they're both eyeing you, but it's connor who speaks first. "so? can we count on you guys behaving?"

you blink before looking over at leon. but he's not looking at you, only at connor as he nods once—firmly. then leon walks out of the room, brushing past his teammate and fiancé without so much as a second glance at you.

you gulp, a million emotions clawing at your flushed chest.

lauren still looks unconvinced, raising one of her perfectly plucked brows in your direction—eyeing your slight pant and hazy eyes. "everything go okay."

"yeah," you nod, the smallest scoff leaving you. "and if it didn't, we can just pretend." the word feels like venom on your tongue. there's a part of you that thinks what just happened between you and leon was all pretend. a regretful moment that was nothing more than a source to channel pent up frustration and years of anger.

it meant nothing. leon still hates you. and you...don't know what the fuck just happened.

—

like you suspected, lauren throws you a birthday party. a surprise one at that, even though you knew exactly what was going on when connor texted you and asked you for help on picking out flowers for the rehearsal dinner.

bad distraction on his part, because lauren ordered the flowers for the rehearsal dinner two weeks ago while you were beside her. you went along anyways, and even acted surprised when everyone jumped out from different areas of the mcdavid/kyle condo.

lauren squeezes you tightly, "happy birthday!"

"thanks," you hug her back just as tightly, "I told you that you didn't need to do anything like this. I would've been happy with some wine and reruns of friends."

she rolls her eyes fondly, guiding you further into the crowded home. "I know you would've been, but I certainly wouldn't have." and that's the most lauren thing she could've said, and it makes your smile grow wide.

there's a lot of people here, you note. mostly mutual friends and connor's teammates and their significant others. it's decorated beautifully, with all your favourite picky foods laid out on the island and a makeshift bar along with it.

people greet you enthusiastically, wishing you a happy birthday as you make your rounds through the party, lauren at your side—who you're pretty sure is already halfway to hammered.

mikayla nurse gives you a bear hug, which she always does, and darnell follows suit. "happy birthday!" he says, pulling back and taking his original seat on one of the barstools against the stark white island. ryan nugent hopkins and his girl do the same, all of you flowing into easy conversation.

mikayla is in the middle of talking about something funny her oldest did before her and darnell left, when your body ignites. it's an odd feeling, but one you're used to at this point. subtly, your gaze shifts down the island and that's when you see him.

leon is leaning on the counter causally, fingers running along the neck of a beer bottle as zach hyman and him talk about whatever it is they're talking about—frankly, you don't care to know what their discussing.

you haven't seen or heard from leon since your kiss 3 days ago. you weren't expecting to feel so many emotions after getting kissed by your mortal enemy, but you are. you think it probably has to do with how he just up and left afterwards, like he couldn't give a fuck about you, which in hindsight he probably doesn't. he never has, your brain reminds you.

as if he can feel your state, his eyes flicker to yours. leon's expression changes, so subtle that it's almost unnoticeable. his fingers still on the beer bottle. you look away just as quick as you looked, turning your attention back to the group in front of you—nodding along like you know what they're in the middle of talking about.

you need a shot. or 6.

and shots you have. lauren is the one who starts it, like usual, insisting that the birthday girl needed a celebratory shot of tequila. then that turned into two, and then three and before you know it you can barley feel your limbs. you're loose, and happy and very much drunk.

it makes being in the same room as leon more tolerable for the mere fact that you keep forgetting he's there. it's only when he laughs too loudly, or someone says his name in your vicinity that you find yourself searching for him. not without immediately cursing yourself for it though.

it's nearing 2 in the morning when lauren grabs on to your arm, her expression hopeful and excited. "oh my god," she slurs, "we need to go swim."

you gasp with enthusiasm. "yes! oh my god, lauren I love you so much—what a good fucking Idea."

everyone has left by now. going home to their kids and going to sleep. the thought makes you feel a little down, because the only person you're going home to is damon fucking salvatore. ah, yes the old birthday depression moment. but thankfully lauren snaps you out of it, dragging you out of the apartment and down the hall to the rooftop.

the heavy metal door clicks open, revealing the blue light of the large pool. it smells so good—like summer—and you groan. "oh my god, yes!"

neither you or lauren bother stripping, and you jump into the pool fully clothed. the water splashes therapeutically as you are submerged under the warm water. it feels amazing, and you kick your legs until you're breaking through the surface.

lauren giggles, treading her hands over the waters surface. "it feels so good."

"I know," you agree quickly, eyes fluttering in bliss.

"lauren." connor's voice is stern, but there's a hint of amusement there that he only saves for his fiancé and her drunk shenanigans. "we're not supposed to be out here at night. let's go."

you didn't even notice he followed you guys out here and you blink in surprise—you also giggle, which has connor sending you a sharp look.

lauren makes a fart noise, but lets her fiancé help her out of the pool. water drips off her clothes like a waterfall, soaking the pavement under her feet. connor ushers her back to the door, saying something that you can't quite make out before leaving you alone.

the water is sobering you up a little, but you're still tipsy enough that everything feels like silk. you dip your head back, soaking your hair and covering the tips of your ears.

you're floating, listening to the muffled sounds of the city night life below. its peaceful, and you think you could stay out here forever. your eyes are only fluttering closed for a moment, and when you open them again you see leon.

he's watching you, hands on his hips from the side of the pool—looking anything but amused. you hadn't even noticed him come out, but you also didn't notice connor so that doesn't mean anything.

too drunk to be scared by his sudden appearance, you just laugh, swimming into an upright position and facing leon. your tank top is sticking to your skin uncomfortably, and if you were sober you'd probably be having a sensory overload.

"get out of the pool" his voice is demanding and unarguable.

you lazily shread water, blinking the pool sting out of your eyes. "why would I do what you ask me to?"

leon scoffs a half hearted laugh, looking away from you momentarily. when he meets your gaze again, you’re still grinning—a little up to no good smirk that has leon gulping. "don't be annoying," he says, "get out before something happens. like connor said, you're not supposed to be in here."

"oh wow is that a threat, mr. drasitail?" you laugh.

he tongues his cheek, "you're drunk."

you toe the rough side of the pool and gently kick off, sending yourself back floating through the water. "tipsy, but sure." leon's shoulder deflate in what's surely annoyance, and he runs a hand over his face. even drunk, you know you're being difficult, but you're not going to give up that easy. "you know, you can't annoy me today. it's my birthday."

leon licks his teeth slowly. he tries to keep his eyes off you and your completely see through tank top as you glide through the water, but he can't help himself, gaze flickering back to you. "I wouldn't have to annoy you if you'd just get out of the pool."

your shoulders drop. "you're such a buzz kill," you grumble, swimming to the edge of the pool once again, right in front of leon. your hands grip the edge, and you blink up at him with wet lashes. "can you at least help me out?"

he gulps, adam's apple bobbling under his stubbled skin. "legs broken or something?" he mumbles with something unknown lacing his tone—doubt, disbelief, want—as he looks into your wet eyes.

you ignore him, raising your palm in his direction and wiggling your fingers. for a moment the action sends you off balance, and you begin slipping backwards. leon’s eyes widen, twitching is if he's going to reach out and grab you, but you catch yourself before he can.

he huffs again, gaze darting between your hand and daring eyes. “don't leave me hanging on my birthday, leon,” you say.

"it's not your birthday anymore, y/n." leon deadpans after a moment.

you pout and he sighs, closing the distance between you and taking your slick palm in his. just before he pulls you out, you use the leverage to tug his arm down towards you, sending leon off balance and into the pool next to you with a loud splash.

he breaks the surface at record speed, looking at you with what can only be described as frustration. he splutters, wiping his face of chlorine scented water droplets. "seriously?"

you bite your tongue in an attempt to mask your growing smirk, "you looked hot."

"thanks," he mumbles playfully, shoulders dripping under the water as he treads.

"don't flatter yourself." you huff, momentarily stopping your own feet from treading water to nudge his leg under the surface.

a beat passes. the sounds of rippling water and heavy breathing the only things to be heard between you.

leon breaks the tension, voice gruff. "are you going to get out now?"

you shrug, and your chin dips under the surface. "are you not going to ask me how my birthday was?" ask comes out in a slur, and it makes leon's jaw tick.

"if I do will you get out of the pool?"

"yes." you grin softly, chin submerging once again.

"okay." he hums, looking very much unimpressed. "how was your birthday?"

your grin deepens, "it was good," you say, "got everything I could've ever asked for."

"mhmm," he hums, brow raised curiously, "and what did you ask for? one of those grow your own boyfriends?"

you laugh, the sound forced and very much sarcastic. "just a dart board with your face on it, actually."

he blows out some air, very amused, "ou good one." then like a child he shakes out his hair, water sliding off his strands and spraying you.

"hey!" you shout, turning your face away from the water attack.

"relax," he chimes, "you're not going to melt."

you look back at leon, a look of amused disbelief flashing over your features as your lip tugs upwards. "maybe I will. I am a witch after all."

leon hesitates, something he rarely does. he wants to look away, your wet lashes and pink lips too intense—too tempting—but he forces himself to to hold your unknowing gaze. "you're something."

your mouth parts, "you're something." you repeat, voice all high pitched and mocking as you splash some water in his direction, the small wave hitting his chin.

he licks onto his lower lip, watching your smile grow as you wait for his next move. just when you think you're not going to get a rise out of him, leon moves. he grabs your ankle under the water, so quick that it makes you squeal, and pulls you against his chest.

the laughter that had previously been bubbling up and past your lips comes to a sharp halt, and you’re left blinking in surprise as your body intertwines with leon's. you're both completely clothed, but it feels like your stark naked. the heat between you is implausible, chest heaving and breathes mingling.

his hand grips your knee firmly before he releases—but he’s not done. leon fingers skim up your thigh, so gentle that it's ticklish. you want to squirm, but you're too scared it will end the tension filled moment. his palm runs over your hip, feeling your soaked jean shorts under his palm.

your breath catches, the sound just gentle enough to reach leon's ears. his eyes dart to your wet, plump lips and he feels himself twitch. when his eyes meet yours again, you swallow, arms slowing down in the thread.

"are you going to kiss me and then leave again like nothing happened?" you don't have time to curse your drunk tongue, because leon answers almost instantly, voice surprisingly smooth and clear, but still deep enough to have your stomach swoop.

"you want me to do that?" he asks you, pushing some wet hair off your shoulder, further exposing your sun kissed, freckled skin.

you lick your bottom lip. "depends what part you're talking about."

his eyes dart back down to yours lips at the sight, watching as your tongue swipes along your lip. your faces are so close that the tips of your noses are almost brushing. you're practically panting, wrapped around leon like a koala as he threads water for the both of you.

you could be staring at each other for 20 minutes, or twenty seconds. you're unsure. time has gone completely still, slowing down like sticky molasses as you and leon exchange longing, needy stares.

your mouth opens, ready to beg him once again, but he unwraps you from his body, hands finding your hips and lifting you out of the pool. you blink, shock and confusion flashing on your face as leon sits you on the edge.

he doesn't look at you as he pulls himself out of the pool effortlessly, but you watch him. his biceps flex under his once light gray, soaked t-shirt, and if you weren't so overcome with frustration and confusion you'd be blushing.

he gets up on to his feet, "let's go, y/n." leon's tone leaves no room for argument, and he's already waking towards the heavy, metal door that leads back to the condo complex.

you scoff, getting up onto your own feet. "dick," you mumble to yourself, lips tugging down in a frown and gaze pointed as you watch leon's retreating figure.

you don't know if he hears your curse, but if he doesn't he doesn't turn around to dispute with you. you could be annoying, jump back in the pool and make him drown in his own frustration. but you don't. you're tired, shocked, angry and most of all, embarrassed.

—

"y/n!" lauren says your name happily, and tipsily, stumbling over to you through the party bus and practically falling into your lap. she smiles, thrusting a shot of some white liquor in your direction, "do this shot with me!"

you smile and that's when you notice she's got the same liquor in her shot glass—a gift from alannah hyman. it's milky white and says bride in script on the side in big, sparkly letters.

you take the shot from her, "are you trying to get me drunk before we even get there?"

she nudges it closer to your mouth, a giggle spilling past her painted lips. "well it is a wedding party! so yes."

fondly, your eyes roll which only makes lauren squawk. you send her a real smile before bringing the glass to your mouth and tipping it back, downing the shot of what you know know is vodka, in a huge gulp.

your grimace, body doing a funny little shiver as the liquor coats your throat and warms your skin. the air conditioning isn't a match for the humid july night, and you're practically dripping with sweat. actually, everyone on the bus is dripping with sweat, but most of them are already so tipsy that it doesn't matter.

when lauren told you in addition to separate bachelor and bachelorette parties she was going to throw a joint one, you were a little hesitant. I mean, you love your friend and will do anything to make her happy—so you bit your tongue—but the idea of having to spend even more time with leon has your blood curdling, especially after the whole pool indecent a few days ago.

once again, you haven't seen leon since the almost kiss in the pool, which has you feeling even more embarrassed than before. you're not sure what's been unlocked with leon, but since your actual kiss in lauren and connor's bedroom almost a week ago, there's been a funny feeling lingering in your head.

you're not sure what it is, or how it makes you feel. all you do know is that it makes you hot and nervous and angry all at once. so really, nothing has changed.

so today, you'd been feeling extremely anxious. you thought about reaching out to leon—having his number saved from many years of being in the same random group chats—but you decide against it. after all, he's clearly not interested in fixing the hostility between you, and you're not going to be some desperate, submissive girl who just backs down and lets him win. absolutely not.

when you were all piling onto the party bus, leon nowhere in sight, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement (and maybe a little disappointment, but you don't even admit that to yourself). when you casually asked connor about it in passing, he looked at pointedly, "he's got some shit he needs to figure out with his agent, so he's going to meet us there." 

you couldn't even hide your eye roll at that. you think the real reason he's not traveling on the party busy is because he probably just didn't want to get forced to dance on the stripper pole in the middle of the bus—he's so boring.

the bus comes to halt outside the bustling club, and everyone inside cheers. so loudly it makes your cringe a little, but you digress. lauren wraps her arm around yours, bringing you both off the bus and into the modern, sleek night club.

the music inside is instantly deafening, some kendrick lamar song that you've heard on the radio for three months straight. you're already feeling buzzed from the shot in the bus, and the one you did at connor and lauren's before your ride came.

"hey!" connor comes up behind you both, wrapping his arm around his fiancés waist as he speaks over the music. "we've got a table booked on the platform, so I'm gunna get up there."

lauren grins, placing a smacking kiss against the corner of his mouth. "okay," she shouts, "we're gunna dance."

he nods with one of those reserved-for-only-lauren grins before leaving you both, making his way through the crowd with the bachelor party.

lauren shakes your arm excitedly, "let's get a drink and then fucking dance, baby!"

you easily get lost in the feeling of the music and the warmth of the crowd. you and lauren dance together for what feels like hours, downing shots and sipping cocktails until way past the achy feeling starts in your feet. other girls from the bachelorette party join in, all of you screaming along to lyrics and dancing against one another like silly, drunk college kids.

leon walks into the club around 10, exhausted and wanting nothing more than to go home. for days he's been flustered and angry, brain scrambled with a mess of thoughts—working overtime and keeping him up at night. the meeting with his agent ended almost two hours ago, but he needed time to collect himself before joining the wedding party.

before seeing you.

connor's brother spots him first, calling his name in a sing song voice that instantly has leon peeking up, plastering on a smile as he climbs the stairs of the platform. the boys begin chatting his name like a group of seagulls, gathering the attention of many lingering bystanders in the night club—it makes leon shiver with discomfort. but thankfully, no one notices.

he's never been a fan of crowds, or attention, but being one of hockey's biggest stars quickly had him getting used to it. bars and clubs though, they will never be his thing.

someone thrusts a beer bottle in his hand, and he takes it greedily, popping off the cap before taking three large gulps. the foam coats his lips, dripping down his chin before he wipes it away.

the platform overlooks the face floor. it's secluded enough to feel private, but still open enough to not feel like you're missing out on the fun. leon finds himself looking through the crowd, beer bottle handing loosely in his grip as he searches.

it's not hard to find you, or any of the girls for that matter. you're all wearing variations of white and cream, which glows blue in the black lights scattered around the club. you're dancing against lauren, hands up in the air as you sway and sing along to some mainstream pop song leon has never heard.

you're covered in a sheer layer of sweat, making your tan skin glow. you look happy, and so tempting. as if you can feel his stare, your eyes find his. as they meet, your movements falter, and your face drops.

leon swallows roughly, pushing off the balcony and forcing himself to break eye contact. his blood feels like it's boiling, burning him from the inside out. he forces another mouthful of beer down, turning his attention back to some of connor's childhood buddies, easily sliding into their conversation.

your teeth clench as your eyes linger on the place leon was just stood, watching you with an unreadable expression. everything feels too constricting now, too warm. it feels like his eyes are still on you—even when you turn back to lauren and she starts doing a terrible rendition of the sprinkler. you can't shake him.

so when a large hand wraps around your waist, and an attractive man appears behind you, you don't stop him. he's not super tall, and his hair is so dark it's almost pure black. clean shaven, with soft hands and smelling like smoke and whiskey.

he's nothing like leon, and that makes you grin. you allow yourself to get wrapped up in the man, dancing with him like your life depends on it. his breathe is warm against your ear, "you're really sexy." his fingers dig into your arm, almost too roughly.

but you smile regardless, "you use that line on all the girls?"

"can't give away my secrets." he grins. his smile is nowhere as nice at leon's though. the man licks onto his bottom lip slowly, "wanna get out of here?"

you hum thoughtfully, looking around the crowded dance floor. when you meet mystery man's eyes, he's hopeful, and it makes you sigh regretfully. "sorry, i'm here with my friends."

"ah."

"yeah," you nod, "thanks for the dance but clearly we're not on the wavelength here. i'm gunna get back to them." you turn, but before you can disappear back into the heart of the dance floor, he grabs your arm.

leon is practically burning as he watches you dance with the short, finance looking bro from the platform. his teeth are aching from how hard he's clenching, and he's pretty sure the glass bottle is about to crack in his palm.

he's angry. he's in disbelief. he's fucking jealous. leon has never felt this level of jealousy before, and he's not even sure if that's what it actually is. it's a white hot fire stick, poking at his chest until he recoils.

you're laughing. and smiling. the guys hands low on your back and running over your hips. a few nights ago that was leon touching you there, and that only fuels his frustration. he watches the two of you talk, a hesitant look on your face that has his stomach dropping.

he stands up straighter, shoulders rigid. leon's scowling at the mystery guy, whispering in your ear as he says whatever shitty pickup line leon has no doubt the dudes used on multiple woman in this club.

then you start walking away, and relief begins to trickle in his bloodstream. unfortunately it doesn't last long, because when the guy reaches for you, grabbing you arm and tugging you back towards him, leon sees red.

you squeak at the feeling of the man's hand on your bicep, squeezing you hard enough that you can feel it in your bones.

"we can keep dancing," he tells you, firmly, "i'm not some dick who's going to act like getting rejected is a personal attack."

you tug your arm away, "i'm sorry, but i'm done dancing right now. it was nice meeting you."

the man's laugh makes you shiver unpleasantly. "you got a boyfriend or something? is that why you're acting like a-" his words are cut short as leon's fist flies, hitting him across the face in a quick, hard punch.

you gasp, a sickening crack echoing in your ears as his knuckles connects with the guys nose. he grabs it, blood seeping through his fingers and dripping onto his blue button up.

leon's not phased, flexing his fingers causally—like he didn't just punch a random guy in the face.

"oh my god," you shout, rushing forward to check on the guy and his obviously damaged face. the crowd stops all around you, whispering and pointing at the scene like it's a movie. your mouth opens, shocked, looking between the mystery guy and leon. "what the fuck!"

leon huffs, sending you a sharp glance before turning on his heels and pushing through the crowd. it feels like everyone is looking at him, judging him, and it has him feeling breathless. angrily, he shoves the doors of the nightclub open, stepping out onto the sidewalk and taking a deep breathe.

he rubs the back of his neck roughly, a curse leaving his lips. leon feels embarrassed about letting his emotions take control like that, but the anger seeing that guy grabbing you—pulling you—has his embarrassment fading away, replaced with fury.

the air feel nice, even though the july air is humid and thick, it's much better the the stuffy club. leon walks to the stone half wall that frames the greeny along the club, taking a seat on the lip with another rough sigh. he's only alone for about a minute before the club doors swing open, and you come storming out.

your eyes are wide—frantic even—searching the sidewalk until your eyes land on him. that's when your face falls, arms crossed defensively as you stare at him.

leon swallows, shrugging his shoulders. "is he hurt?" he asks, even though he already saw the answer.

"his nose is broken." you deadpan.

"good." he hums, checking his knuckles quickly. ones split, but he'll fix it later.

you laugh in disbelief, "good?"

"yeah," he confirms, eyes finding yours again. you've stepped closer in the time he was looking at his hand, and you look even angrier up close. "he shouldn't of touched you like that."

you shake your head. "I can handle myself."

leon snorts. "clearly not, y/n."

you make a scoffing noise, arms tightening further across the white dress wrapped tightly across your chest. "I was actually having a good time," you start, voice firm but tinged with something else, "but thanks to you, my night is ruined."

"I know you y/n," he deadpans, standing up from the wall, "your idea of a good time and his idea of a good time is vastly different. he was going to try something." leon walks closer to you, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides like he doesn't know what to do with them.

the tone of his voice, so frustrated, has you shocked. the audacity of leon to be upset with you after he punched a poor guy in the face is beyond you. your arms uncross, falling against your hips with a smack. "and so what?" you question, "what's it matter to you? why do you care?"

your voice has gotten louder, more venomous. it makes leon laugh roughly, looking down you with cynicism. "why do I care?" he practically shouts, reaching out and almost touching your exposed shoulder. "you're..." leon stops himself, a gentle curse leaving him. he huffs loudly, running a hand down his face in a slow but rough way.

a moment passes. cars passing and honking down the street, club music vibrating the concrete below your heels. your eyes don’t leave leon's figure, which is practically vibrating with emotion.

you swallow, voice much more quiet when you say, "I'm what?"

"ungrateful." he grunts.

your lips pull into a frown as the bridge of your nose begins to string. "screw you." with one more furious look in his direction, you turn heel, shoes clicking on the pavement as you make your way back to the nightclub's entrance.

you're so angry. it's fuelling your blood stream and stopping your feet. your arms cross again, eyes pinched as you turn back around. you're not done with him yet. "do you ever think about things before opening your mouth?"

leon looks shocked momentarily, but he recovers quickly. he shoves his hands into his jean pockets, nodding slowly. "yes."

"oh really?" you ask, "like when?"

"I thought about not answering your question just now."

"oh grow up!"

"i'm grown."

"really?" you ask wildly, "is that why you punched a guy in the face?"

"a guy who deserved it!"

"for dancing with me?"

"for touching what's not his."

that has you faltering, leon's words hitting you like a slap to the face. he knows that what he just said was possessive—uncalled for. he has no right to say that to you, you're certainly not his to claim. it's the jealously getting the best of him and wanting to make you feel how he's feeling.

and it worked. guilt tickles your skin and pales your face, looking back at leon with a straight face. you feel like you've done something wrong by dancing with that guy—like you've done him wrong. "oh, okay then," you start, voice timid and so gentle that it has leon faltering. "who's am I? please enlighten me."

he knows he can't keep going down this route with you. he'll regret it.  leon takes a slow, deep breath, shaking his head. "i'm not playing this game."

that's rich, you think, considering he's the one who starts all these stupid games you find yourself unable to untangle yourself from. you can't help but laugh with false humor, "oh but you love games!"

"y/n," leon sighs tiredly, "stop."

connor comes bustling out of the club, and much like your expression and wandering eyes from 5 minutes ago, he's looking for leon just like you had. once he spots you in a stand off, leon's jaw tight and your eyes misty, he all but stomps up to the both of, face painted and livid. "are you guys seriously fighting? on top of everything else that happened tonight. I thought you guys stopped this fucking shit " he looks at you, still frustrated, "lauren is going to be pissed, y/n."

leon steps towards his friend calmly, despite his firm tone, "it's not y/n’s fault." he says definitively, a flash of protectiveness flashing over his face.

connor blinks, confused, looking between the pair of you. his jaw is tense, tendon popping under his beard as he tries to clam himself down. seeing his best friend punch a guy in the face for seemingly no reason, which obviously made his fiancé upset, combined with walking out and catching the two of you arguing when you'd already told lauren everything was squashed between you and leon, has connor spinning.

leon continues, "we're fine."

"are we?" you question, pettily.

connor shakes his head, a breathless laugh leaving him. the tension between the two of you is undeniable, and it doesn't matter what you say—you're arguing and leon's fight has ruined the night. "leon," he starts, eyeing his friend firmly, "you need to go. both of you. drive y/n home and while you're at it, make sure this shit between you gets sorted. for good."

"okay." leon nods after a tense moment, fishing his keys from his pocket and walking down the sidewalk. he glances back at you, "let's go, y/n." he doesn't sound angry anymore, but he is still very definitive with his tone.

it has you moving, following behind him timidly, arms crossed tightly and tears fall freely down your cheeks. the damage has been done. your drunk and tired. that combined with your argument, and connor's scolding has you feeling very guilty and emotional.

leon unlocks his porsche, the beep echoing through the back parking lot of the night club. it's the car he's always had ever since you've known him, and you always mockingly call it his, 'big fancy sports call', everytime you see it. yes, it's a porsche but not a sports model—leon never corrects you though.

but you stay silent behind him, the only sound coming from you is your shoes on the ground. it has leon pausing. he attempts to glance at you quickly—sneakily—but as he catches the sight of your glistening tears under the moonlight, everything shifts.

the sight makes him swallow down the immediate rising guilt and regret that threatens to make its way out of him, halting his movements by the passenger door of his car. you sniff, eyes downcast.

it sends a pang through his heart, sighing softly as he faces you fully. "come on."

your chin trembles and you shake your head. he watches as you dig through top of your dress, pulling out your phone from where it rested beside your boob. you begin thumbing the screen, unaware of how your boob is now practically spilling out of your dress, sitting perfectly plump and bulged in a way that makes leon shift.

"i'm ordering an uber," you mumble, blinking through tears as you try to navigate the uber app.

"no," leon breathes, opening the passenger door with an echoing click. "you're not getting in an uber while you're drunk and alone."

you roll your wet eyes. "connor would let me."

"i'm not connor."

you pause, eyes flickering up to meet leon's. he gestures to the open car, a pleading look in his gaze. not in the mood to fight any more, you sniffle, turning off your cell before dragging yourself to the passenger seat.

leon's shoulders slump in relief, moving to the side so you're able to get into his car properly. once you're seated, leon shuts the door and rounds the front to the driver's side, where he lets himself in.

you keep your eyes forward as he starts the car, letting the engine roar to life as he clicks his seatbelt into place. he glances at you gingerly, "put your seatbelt on."

you sigh but do so. once he hears the dull click of the buckle, leon releases a tension filled sigh, shifting the car into drive before slowly pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

you really wish you could stop crying, but controlling your emotions have never been your strong suit—fighting with leon for years because he didn't smile at you one time is enough proof of that. your quiet hiccups are heard throughout the car, too tired to attempt to mask them. your arms are crossed again, like you're trying to hug yourself. your chest shakes with every breath, inhale or exhale, as your continue to cry, eyes trained out the windshield.

you won't look at him. you can't look at him. you're embarrassed and still a little angry, and you've given leon enough of your range of emotions in the past week that he's probably sick of then by now—more than he normally is.

the car slows at a red light, the rumbling of the engine coming to a quiet hum as the car completely halts. leon taps the steering wheel with two fingers, licking his teeth as he glances at you. "why are you crying, y/n?"

his words bring another round of tears to your eyes. you huff, sniffling away your running nose. "because."

"just because?" leon pushes gently, eyes flickering back to the traffic light to check its status. still red. he looks back at you, bathed in the red glow. "c'mon, help me out a little bit here."

the sincerity of his voice makes you frown. in that moment you're in desperate need of an outlet, someone or something to talk to in hopes that your tears will stop. and right now, you don't care if that person is leon, especially with the way he's looking at you—despite his deadpanned expression, there's still a softness underneath it all.

you nod, as if you're convincing yourself to confide in him. with another sob and trembling breath, you say, "lauren is going to hate me now."

the lights changes to green, and leon blinks, turning away from you and shifting the car into drive. a moment passes before he sighs softly, shaking his head, "she's not going to hate you." he says, glancing at you quickly.

"i've ruined the night." you counter, bringing your knees up to your chest to cradle yourself. your dress shifts, sliding dangerously high on your thigh, and the sight has leon internally cursing, he licks onto his bottom lip, forcing himself to look away from your soft skin.

"you didn't ruin anything," he reassures you, "I was the one who got all...angry and punched that guy. trust me, lauren will be okay. you'll be okay." leon pauses, eyes flickering away from the deserted road and over to your tear stained face. "besides, how could anyone ever hate you?"

your lips part and you shift your head to look at leon. his expression in unreadable, but he barley lets you analyze it because he's turning his attention back to the road. finally, you find your voice. "you hate me."

leon shifts gears, and he does it so smoothly that you don't even jolt in your seat. that also means you don't look away from his side profile, eyes pointed and curious as you await his response.

"I could never hate you, y/n." he swallows, adam's apple bobbing under his stubble. leon doesn't look at you yet. he can't.

"that's a lie," you mean to sound firm, but your words come out nothing short of a whisper. your brows pull tightly, confusion etched across your forehead. "because you do hate me."

that makes leon falter, glancing over to you after he shift into a different lane. "do I?"

you don't answer, mostly because you're unsure what kind of response leon is looking for. you tear your eyes away from him, looking back out through the windshield and keeping your gaze trained on the pavement as it disappears under the car.

leon sighs to himself, running a hand through his messy hair. he eyes you again, but you're still not looking at him. your face is tight, but you've stopped crying for the most part, only the occasional tear that slides over your salty tight skinned cheek. a flash of fear comes over him—what if you're too uncomfortable with what he said to cry?

leon curses. the last thing he wants to do right now is make you feel worse. his eyes trail over your body as he hits another red light. your legs are still pulled up, hands wrapped around your calves like you're cradling yourself. it makes his heart sink, but then he sees it. your nails.

the usual flame red you wear is replaced by a neutral colour, accompanied by white french. his mouth opens before his brain can catch up, "taking a break from the red?" leon's words have you blinking, looking back at him curiously. his eyes flick down to your hands, "your nails."

"oh," you hum. you hadn't even known that leon had noticed the little red nail detail you've been committed to for years. the colour you'd pick solely because leon didn't like it. thinking about it now makes you feel a bit silly, but something about leon mentioning it has you feeling fuzzy. "yeah," you clear your throat, sliding your hands between your thighs shyly, hiding them from his sight. "lauren wants us all to have french tips for the wedding."

"that's a shame," leon sighs, stepping on the gas as the light changes. "you look good in red."

"you hate the colour red." you say quietly— cautiously.

"doesn't mean I hate it on you."

a beat passes as you sit with that confession. your drunk brain has a difficult time pacing the pieces together, brows furrowed in confusion as you keep your eyes trained on leon. you breathe a laugh that sounds like a scoff. "why are you being so nice to me?" you question, "is it just because im upset?"

"not just because you're upset," he replies quickly, "i've been enough of a dick to you to last a lifetime. and I know how important lauren is to you, and how much you want to fix this thing between us before the wedding so she's happy." leon stops himself, swallowing roughly as he looks back at you. "i'm trying my best to start fixing it."

"what is this thing between us?"

his thumbs strokes the leather wrapping around the steering wheel, "whatever you want it to be."

you make a funny noise. "what kind of answer is that?"

leon can't help the way his top lip twitches, the smallest grin threatening to take over. "the right one for how drunk and upset you are."

"I don't like that answer either."

that does make him smile. "I know you don't."

silence fills the car after that. you let your legs fall back to the ground, feeling much more relaxed then when you first got in. and leon notices out of the corner of his eye, which makes his shoulders drop in relief. they ache slightly from how tense he'd been, but he can't even think of that right now.

not when you start to talk, voice curious and gentle. "how come you hit that guy?"

he sighs lowly, not taking his eyes off the road as he flicks on his signal, car turning into the parking garage of your apartment complex. you blink in surprise—leon hadn't even asked for directions once. he remembers where you live.

"when you're upset, it's makes me crazy," he starts shamelessly, hands tightening around the wheel as he recalls the scene at the nightclub less than an hour ago. "and tonight, when that asshole grabbed your arm and the tiniest flash of distress crossed your features, I didn't even think." leon looks at you quickly, meeting your intent gaze. it makes him look away just as fast. "not only was I jealous but I was so fucking angry that I just lashed out."

he pulls into an empty parking spot, which is thankfully a few steps away from the elevator. leon shifts the car into park before he looks at you again. when he sees the slow smile on your face, his stomach swoops.

before he has a chance to question why you look so...pleased, you begin to talk. "wait, you were jealous?" you ask him, eyebrow raised curiously.

leon's neck feels hot, and he forces himself to laugh, even though the sound comes across awkward. he rubs the back of his neck and looks away from you, which only makes you giggle. "okay, let's not dwell on it." he mutters.

"oh my god," you tease, "big tough leon draisaitl was jealous."

"y/n."

"this is amazing"

his eyes twinkle with amusement. "i'm trying to apologize," leon tells you, the smallest smile pulling at his lips.

"I know," you grin, "I never thought this day would come! should I get my phone out and take a video of this? post it on my story so everyone can see?"

leon rolls his eyes fondly as you laugh, head falling back against the head rest as you look at him. you obviously are just teasing him, and that has leon's heart strings tugging. "are you done?"

"with this?" you question, knowingly, "never."

the smile that follows that is different, one of those smiles that you only save for lauren and when you're talking on the phone to your family. leon almost wants to get his phone out now and snap a picture of you—because he's never seen anything more beautiful.

—

the muskoka air bnb is beautiful. so much so that it doesn't even feel real. it's decorated in white, with lots of neutral florals and greenery that line not only the main house, but the multiple guests house littering the property.

connor and lauren had flown the wedding party out yesterday, and you had been so exhausted from travel, as well as trying to not stare at leon for the duration of the flight that as soon as you arrived you passed out.

since leon drove you home from the night club a few days ago, there's been a major shift. you'd seen him a few days afterwards at a dinner hosted by lauren's parents for the wedding party and family, and obviously he attended. there was a part of you that thought he'd ignore you like he always did, but he actually smiled at you. a half grin from across the room as he held a champagne flute that made your stomach flip.

and then two days ago, the day before traveling to muskoka, leon texted you. you were in such a shock from seeing his name flash across your screen, that you almost forgot to answer him. after 30 minutes you finally responded to his message, asking if you wanted a ride to the airport tomorrow—to which your answer was thanks. that be great, leon :)

immediately you cringed at your own message. it made you feel like a school girl with a highschool crush who was trying to come across casual but was miserably failing—wait, are you a school girl with a highschool crush who was trying to come across casual but was miserably failing? just as immediate you pushed that thought away, storing it on the back burner to later dissect.

this weekend is not about you or the sudden butterflies in your stomach when you think about leon—who a week ago, you thought couldn't stand you. you're still not sure if he even likes you, despite everything. so yeah, back burner it goes.

when you woke up today, much closer to the afternoon than the morning, you'd be in for a surprise when you walked down the hallway of your designated guest house and saw leon standing in the kitchen, sipping coffee while scrolling through his phone. shirtless.

"oh!" you practically squeal, jumping around and covering your eyes with a hand. you knew that you'd be sharing the guest house with some of the wedding party, you just didn't think it would be with him.

he laughs, clicking off his phone and setting it on the island. "i'm not naked, you don't have to hide."

you peek through your fingers first and see him looking at you, palms flat against the counter as he leans into it, mug sat in the space between his hands. when you catch sight of the sweat pants—although hung dangerously low on his toned hips—you drop your hand. "you just caught me off guard." you swallow.

he grins, all syrupy and slow before pushing off the counter. leon stalks over to you, and the closer he gets the more nervous you feel. just when you think he may stop, he walks right past you, hand brushing your wrist. "lauren and connor need us ready for 1:30 for something. connor's brother and jenni are already outside." he calls back at you, stalking down the hallways.

you had to wash your face in freezing water to calm yourself down from that interaction—mostly caused by leon’s shirtless torso, but that's neither here or there. you slipped on one of your white cocktail dresses, because even though leon didn't say what was happening, you knew it was the welcome party in the garden.

leon wasn't in the kitchen or the living area when you emerged from your room, thankfully, so you had another few minutes to calm down while you made your way across the property. guests have already started to arrive by the time you sneak up beside lauren, greeting her warmly while she beams at the sight of your face.

you help her make her rounds and tidy up whatever she feels needs it while people mingle, snacking on hors d'oeuvres and sipping alcohol under the july sun. when you get a free moment, you nudge her side to get her attention, "why didn't you tell me leon was in my house?"

she frowns slightly, "he is? thought he was in the other one but I guess not." before you can get her to elaborate on that, one of the waitstaff comes over, whisking her away to deal with whatever snack debacle was occurring.

you spend a few hours mingling with everyone, sharing laughter and drinks happily. you've never been to muskoka, and you can't help but appreciate how beautiful and scenic it is. lauren and connor couldn't of picked a better spot to get married.

on instinct you hear lauren’s laugh echo through the garden, and you spot her almost instantly. your best friend has never looked more beautiful or happy since you've known her. connor stands beside her, the two of them in their own little world. he's whispering in her ear which is the reason for her laughter. you love them so much.

your eyes begin to prick with tears, and you quickly look away before they can fall. you grab a napkin hurriedly, bringing it up to your lower lash line so it soaks up your salty tears. thank god you're alone right now, because it's so embarrassing.

"oh no," leon's says from a few feet away, eyeing you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "you're crying."

his voice cutting through the silence makes you jump slightly—when did you get so jumpy around him?—and you turn to look at him, a small bubble of laughter leaving you. you sniffle, balling up the napkin in your palm, "I know. i'm a mess."

he shakes his head, a half smirk, half frown on his face. you don't even know where to begin trying to understand what that means. leon walks closer, taking the napkin right out of you palm and throwing it in the small garbage underneath the long buffet style hors d'oeuvres table. "what's got you emotional?"

on cue lauren laughs again, and you sigh dreamily, glancing the happy couples way. "they're just so in love. this place is beautiful, lauren and connor are beautiful and i'm just...so happy for them."

leon watches you for a long moment, brows furrowed slightly as he listens to your confession. when you look back at him, there's new tears in your eyes, happy ones but laced with a longing you hadn't realized you possessed. leon's gut pangs with something all too familiar as you look up at him. he can't help but wonder if for years you'd been too worried about trying to get him to like you in some capacity that you'd been too busy to look for what you need. what you want. what you've always desired: to feel loved.

the way you're looking at him now, no trace of anger or resentment in your eyes, makes him feel comfortable—complete. it's then that he knows that yes, you'd been too focused on leon's stubbornness when it comes to you, to notice that he never hated you. not at all.

he gives you a closed mouth grin, reaching to wipe away the tear that's pooling under your lashes. "you'll get it too, y/n. love."

your lip twitches, and his eyes on you feel so intense you have to look to the ground. "think so?"

he guides your face back up. "I know so." leon swallows gently, eyes darting down to your lips just like they had in the pool many days ago. your lips part, nothing but a hitched breath coming out. he licks along his lower lip, "i'm sorry, y/n. for everything."

and you know he means it.

dinner time comes quickly, sneaking up on you. leon weighs heavy on your mind as you shove garden salad in your mouth—the conversation today, his shirtless torso, the way he notices your nails, the way he touched you in the pool, the way he kissed you. even the way he eats damn beer nuts.

you try and distract yourself with the conversation flowing all around you, stretching down the long dining table under the warm fairy lights dripping from the trees. but your mind always drift back to him. leon. leon. leon. the man who hasn't left your mind since you met him years ago, is still the man who you think about today.

it doesn't help that he's sitting diagonally from you, your eyes catching every few minutes like there’s nothing else to but to look at one another.

you need a cold shower and a long nights rest. and leon, you brain taunts you.

after desert and another hour of mindless chatting, everyone starts heading home and packing in for the night. tomorrow would be a long day of rehearsals and last minute prepping for the wedding on the following day.

you practically run back to the guest house, stealing one of two showers before any of the other house guests have a chance too. the water is relaxing, and helps ease the tornado of thoughts and unwanted questions in your mind.

whatever you want it to be.

you're glad you have a room to yourself because you don't want to put pyjamas on. you crawl under the covers completely naked, sighing as your head hits the pillow.

leon. leon. leon.

hours pass, the guest house bathed in the sound of water lapping against the stoney shore. sleep doesn't take you, leaving you tossing and turning like a child. you huff, reading the small alarm clock on the wooden beside table: 2:17 a.m.

you slip out from under the sheets and grab one of your oversized shirts, pulling it over your frame before making your way to the door. you're hoping some water and a change of atmosphere will help you feel a little sleepy. you toe down the dark hallway until you round into the kitchen.

the image of shirtless leon, leaning over the island this morning flashes through your mind. you shake your head, sighing again before going to the cupboard and grabbing a mug.

you fill it with the brita in the fridge, and then you drink it slowly, doing your best to calm your restless limbs and even more restless mind. after a few minutes you put the mug in the sink and make your way back down the hallway.

one of the bedroom doors creaks open, and you falter. even in the dim light, you'd recognize him. leon looks at you, curious, one brow raised the highest fraction taller than the other. he's shirtless again, which makes you swallow.

"hi." you mumble dumbly.

"hey."

you walk further down the hall, right by your bedroom door which before this moment, unbeknownst to you, is diagonally across from his.

you watch leon's eyes dart down to your legs, trailing up your soft skin and reaching the hem on your not so long t-shirt. his eyes linger there, and you flush. "sorry, I," you stutter, "wasn't expecting to see you. or anyone really, at this hour."

he finds your face. "don't apologize."

you nod, clearing your throat again. you've never been at a loss for words in leon's presence, besides the moment right before your kiss over a week ago, but right now you're rendered speechless.

"you okay?" he questions tenderly, assessing you.

"yeah," you say, thumbing down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. "couldn't sleep, so just had some water."

he nods once, "ah."

"are you okay?" you ask him.

leon blinks, nodding again. "yeah. just had to use the bathroom."

"ah." you repeat his earlier words, and his mouth twitches.

"yeah." he mumbles.

you breathe, "well, I should probably try and sleep. it'll be a long day tomorrow."

"yeah, me too." he say, but it doesn't sound convincing. leon eyes your legs again.

you squeeze your thighs together, a small gasp leaving your lips. the sound has leon's eyes snapping up to your face. you reach behind yourself blindly, finding the handle of the door knob. "goodnight leon."

"night." he says, turning the knob of his own door and pushing it open.

whatever you want it to be. the words taunt you as you look at leon's back, muscles pronounced and tempting. your mind is still racing with the unknown—your body on fire—and this interaction didn't help at all.

you're desperate for answers.

so before his door closes, you step forward. "leon?"

he pauses, pulling the bedroom door back open. not fully, but just enough so he can lean on the trim. "yea?"

you shutter as you inhale, fingers itching as you try and keep your hands to yourself. leon's skin is glistening. pecks and chest covered in a neat spread of hair that trails down his abs and disappears below those stupid low rise sweatpants. focus. you force yourself to look back up to his face.

whatever you want it to be.

"what would you of said the other night in the car if I was sober?" you ask him, "when I asked you what are we, you said whatever I want us to be."

leon remembers the conversation all too well. it plays on a constant loop in his head and it has since he dropped you home that night. "yeah, I did." he confirms lowly.

"so what's the real answer?" you swallow gently, "what would you of said? if I asked you right now, what would you say?"

a moment passes.

leon huffs, eyes finding the worn wood of the house as he rubs the back of neck roughly. he meets your eyes again—your curious, hopeful gaze. "I don't know." he says.

"you don't know?" you repeat slowly—hesitantly. like your testing out the sound of it on your tongue. a flash of sadness washes over your face, and leon feels awful.

he steps back into the hallway, "I don't mean it like that, I just..." he trails off, breathing deeply.

you don't give him the opportunity to finish that thought. your arms cross over your chest, a defensive stance that makes leon frown. "how come when we first met you didn't smile at me?"

the question catches him off guard. not because he didn't know the answer, but because he hadn't realized it had been in your mind. leon didn't realize that you noticed that when first time you met, he didn't smile back at you. heat flushes his chest and neck, "y/n..."

the look on his face has you stopping. he looks almost distraught, and that's not at all what you were expecting. there was a part of you that thought leon didn't even remember that first meeting. the solem look on his face suggests otherwise.

"please," you breathe, arms falling as you step closer to him. "I need to know what I did that made you so upset that you couldn't even smile. it's been years of racking my brain, desperately trying to understand what I did-"

"I couldn't smile because I was scared." leon cuts you off firmly, gaze pointed.

"scared?" you repeat curiously. "scared of what?"

"y/n." he says your name again. almost pleading with you.

you reach out, letting your nails trail over the side of his bicep. you blink up at him, "leon, please."

a beat passes.

"you had the prettiest smile i'd ever seen," leon mumbles, so quiet that you almost don't hear him. "that's what scared me. because I knew I would do anything to see it again, and from that moment I knew I had no control when it came to you." he shakes his head, a breathy laugh breaking the tense moment. leon meets your gaze, “I still don't have control around you and it scares me to this day."

your core flutters, and your heart thumps wildly. you lick your lower lip. "yeah?" you question softly.

"yeah."

leon watches as you take another step towards him, your chest pressing against his. you push up onto your painted toes, hands curling around his torso to balance yourself. he's practically panting as he watches you, nose bumping yours as he starts leaning down into your space.

"loose control, leon." you whisper sensually, nails digging into his flesh. "I want you to loose control with me."

leon kisses you hard, hands flying to your waist to keep you pressed against him. your mouths part, tongues swiping over one another as the kiss turns deeper—hotter. it's even better than the one almost two weeks ago. more intimate and more passionate.

you sigh into his mouth, hands sliding up the front of his chest and wrapping around his neck, pulling him into you even more. his fingers squeeze the fleshy part of your hips before travelling farther down, cupping the round of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. then he drags you even further up his chest, and you can feel him hardening against your core.

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for you," he mumbles into your mouth, grip sliding down your thighs painfully slow.

you whine as leon kisses you again, lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs over his hips. the new position has your bare core resting just above his member, and just knowing that has your hips jerking.

leon's hands trail under your shirt, which is now almost completely exposing you, smoothing over your ass. he makes a growling noise, and in that moment you know he's discovered you're without panties. "you're gunna kill me." he mumbles, nipping your bottom lip and then soothing the sting with his tongue.

your hands run up through the back of his head, messing his hair. "leon," you pant, nipples pebbled and hard where they rest against him. "I need to feel you."

he doesn't answer you—not with words. his hands squeeze the meat of your ass again and spin you both around, slowly to not startle you, and walk you into his room. it's completely dark in there besides the single stream of moonlight through the window, leaving a barley there streak of light across the pillows.

leon blindly finds the bed, and once he feels the mess of blankets against his knees he lowers you to the mattress. he hovers over you, eyes flickering over your flushed face so intently—so tenderly. you sigh, a small smile blossoming on your kissed out lips.

it makes him follow suit, the two of just smiling at one another for what feels like the first time. slowly, one of leon's hands finds the side of your face, cupping your jaw while his thumb runs along the hallow part of your cheek soothingly. "you okay?"

your heart clenches, and you lean into the warmth of his palm. your eyes flutter as you nod, "yes. are you?"

"better than okay," he whispers, leaning in and reconnecting your lips. this kiss isn't hurried like the others. this one feels like molasses, slow and sweet and you can't get enough.

leon’s hand trails down your face, over the pulse point of your neck and down your t-shirt covered torso. he pays extra attention to your boobs, tugging and palming your nipples until you're arching into him.

when he reaches your hip bones—the edge of your shirt—he curses, pressing an open mouthed kiss to each side of your hips, and then another one right below your navel. your breath catches, watching as leon’s eyes flicker up yours—so close to where you want him.

leon smirks, kissing the inside of your thigh delicately. "what do you want from me, baby?"

the nickname makes your hips jerk, a breathless moan leaving you involuntary. leon's smirk deepens, hands sliding up your thighs and pushing them further apart, displaying your glistening bare pussy.

"I want you to touch me," you mumble desperately, hands fisting the bedding under you like your life depends on it.

"speak up baby." leon taunts, blowing air on your warmth.

you jaw goes slack as you squirm and wiggle against the mattress. "I want you," you swallow roughly, "to touch me."

he licks his bottom lip like he's in front of a five course meal, "good girl." leon mumbles before licking a firm strip up your pussy, tasting and spreading your sticky arousal. you gasp loudly, too loudly for sharing a house with other people, when he sucks on your clit.

leon hums at the sound, and it vibrates through your folds in a way that makes you shiver. his hands massage the meat of your thighs as he devours your pussy, keeping you spread open for him.

your panting, back arching off the bed as your core flutters pathetically. "i'm close." you whine, fingers threading through leon's hair and tugging his roots.

leon slurps your arousal, sucking your clit deliciously. just when you're about to teeter off the edge, he pulls away from you. his chin and lips are drenched in your juices, and when he smirks you just about melt.

"I wanna see your face when you cum," he admits shamelessly, already beginning to remove his sweatpants. his hard cock springs free, thick and red as it brushes against his stomach. as if leon couldn't get any more sexy, he's got the perfect cock as the cherry on top.

you bring your bottom lip between you teeth, watching him shamelessly. he catches your gaze, "take your shirt off."

and you do, quickly, like you can't take it off fast enough. you throw it to the floor and leon climbs back over your body, pressing tickling kisses against your neck that have you giggling and squirming.

"you're beautiful." leon hums, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and that makes you moan. he pulls away, forehead resting against yours, "I don't have a condom."

you shake your head, "i'm clean. I haven't been with anybody since—" since I met you.

you don't need to say it. leon knows. "me either." he kisses you again, chaste. "and i’m clean, if you’re sure?"

"yes," you tell him, "i've never been more sure of anything."

he smiles, lining his aching tip up with your sticky entrance. slowly, leon eases into your warmth. you both sigh shakily, mouth agape as leon's cock slides further and further into your pussy.

"holy fuck," he moans, "you feel so good."

you whine, wrapping your legs around his lower back, keeping him as close as possible. the feeling is electric and like nothing you've experienced before. it's years of tension, frustration, unspoken words and secret longing combined, and it feels like heaven.

leon begins rolling his hips into you, a slow pace that has your toes clenching and pussy oozing. your back arches off the bed, hands sliding up his back, nails digging into his shoulder blades as he rocks into your heat.

he curses lowly, the band in his stomach tightening as his impending orgasm nears. "your pussy feels so fucking good wrapped around my cock."

"oh my god, leon—mhpm." you mewl, walls fluttering and squeezing as he continues his now feverish pace. the bed begins to creak from the movement, a sound that surely gives away exactly what you and leon are up to. but neither of you care.

"fuck," he grunts, grabbing your leg and hiking it further up, almost holding it flush to your chest. the new angle is exactly what you needed, leon's tip kissing that spongy spot inside you repeatedly.

"i'm gunna cum." you whine, hands sliding around to his front, cascading up his chest to wrap around his neck. "don't stop." you beg desperately, jaw going slack at a particularly rough thrust.

"you like that?" leon asks, eyeing your pinched eyes and flushed face. he pushes on the back of your thigh, stretching you open even more and more. you shout, mumbling yes over and over again. "yeah?" he teases.

he thrusts into you three more times and you cum. you exhale breathily, falling back against the bed as your limbs go weak. your skin feels like it's on fire in the best possible way. leon's jaw goes slack, hips jutting into yours as he reaches his climax.

the feeling of him filling you up with his cum, pumping into into you softly with lazy thrusts has you cumming again, much softer than your first orgasm, but still powerful enough to have you whining.

your eyes flutter closed, exhaustion creeping into your bones. leon breathlessly kisses the line of your jaw, and then your cheek, then your nose and finally your lips. you smile into it, holding his face to yours tenderly.

"you okay?" he whispers, pushing some hair off your sweaty forehead.

you hum, kissing him one more time quickly. "yeah." you say, "i'm definitely tired now."

he grins fondly, dick twitching where it's still sheathed inside you. slowly, leon guides himself from your warmth, watching as his cum spills out your hole and drips onto the bedding. it’s truly a sight.

he curses, already half hard again. you giggle, and leon swears he's never heard a more precious sound. he cleans up your shared mess gently, pressing kissing against your skin every few seconds. it's so comforting and soft it has you falling asleep.

when leon finally climbs back up the bed, he pulls you against his chest, tucking your head under his chin. he pulls the blanket over your naked bodies, and kisses your forehead, so softly that you barley feel it. "go to sleep, y/n."

and you do.

—

you take a deep breath, letting the muskoka air fill your lungs completely before you let yourself exhale. the night sky is full of stars and constellations, adding to the already perfect night.

you can hear the chatter of the last half of rehearsal dinner from up the house, lauren's laughter finding your ears like it usual does. you're both cacklers, and connor often dubs you two as the cackle twins.

the dinner has been beautiful, as expected. speeches made you tear up and laugh at the same time, and the food was so delicious is made you moan.

you woke up this morning before leon, the sunshine streaming through the open curtains and caring him in golden light. seeing him so soft and tender was everything, but the unknown of everything between you still lingers in your chest.

yes, you had sex. yes, you kissed again. but what does that mean?

you left before he woke up.

the day had been so busy with you helping lauren and getting ready for rehearsals, that you didn't see leon again until the dinner. seeing him made your heart race, and skin heat. leon looked so handsome in his suit, hair styled and casual smile on his face—chatting with connor from across the table.

you thought you could handle your feelings and emotions through the duration of dinner, but that changed as connor made his toast—a stupidly perfect toast about love that made you think of leon.

you caught his eyes through it, and he sent you a sad smile. it breaks you. you're scared of the unknown, and you want him so badly. but not knowing what leon wants is torture, and frankly it’s holding you back.

so once all the toasts are done and dinner conversation is in full swing, you slip out of the house and make your way down to the waters edge. hoping to collect yourself. the sound of the water and the crickets are soothing as you look out on to the lake. you wrap your arms around yourself, taking another deep and much needed breath.

the sound of someone walking on the rocks behind you makes you spin around, white silk dress swaying around your thighs at your sudden movement.

"hey," leon says gently, hands shoved in his pant pockets. he's no longer wearing his jacket, he must've ditched it before coming out to find you.

"hey." you parrot.

he comes up next you, arm brushing yours. "you okay?"

you hum lightly, nodding once. "just taking a breather." your emotions betray your body as your lip quivers, a wave of fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

leon spots them instantly, rounding to your front to look at you properly. "hey," he starts tenderly, brushing some loose hairs away from your face, "why are you upset?"

"i'm just...emotional." you mutter pathetically, shrugging your shoulder.

leon frowns. "about the speeches?"

"yes," you say, "no. I don't know."

he clicks his tongue, tucking your hair. his touch makes you shiver. "what about it is making you upset?" leon asks, words patient and curious.

you shake your head, wiping at your tears with the back of your hand. "it's stupid," you laugh half-heartedly, "and I really should get back inside and be present! this is about lauren and connor, not me-"

"hey," leon stops you, "no. lauren and connor are fine. it's just me and you right now, okay? what's going on that head."

that's a good question. what is going on inside your head. for years you believed that leon hated you. you were certain of it. you two would always bicker and fight, couldn't be in the same room without it getting hostile. but the past few weeks something has undeniably changed.

you sigh, voice wobbly as you begin to speak. "for years, you only looked my way if you wanted to argue."

leon frowns, reaching out to cup your jaw. "that's not true." he says with determination, brows pulled so tightly that you'd be surprised if the indent between them isn't permanent.

"it is," you huff, "and sometimes I think that's still the case." a new wave of tears and doubt well in your eyes, heart thumping against your ribs wildly. "you hate me, leon."

a moment passes, leon looking down at you with an unreadable, almost sad expression. your words couldn't be farther from the truth. leon didn’t lie when he said he never hated you. it always been the opposite for him. "okay, sure," leon starts, "I hate you."

you gulp, eyes never leaving his.

leon continues, "I hate that I know your favourite necklace was gift from your grandma when you turned 18. I hate that I know you fiddle with your rings when you're nervous, and that you'll do anything for lauren and your friends, even if that means putting up with my terrible fucking attitude. I hate that I know your favourite lipgloss is bubblegum flavoured, and that your dream pet is a snake but there's also something about them that scares you. I hate that I made you hate me, because I sure as hell have never hated you."

you sniffle, shifting on your feet as his words warm your skin. you've never told leon about yourself, but yet he knew you well enough to know them. he knows you. you knows where you live, and your nail colour. he knows you cross your arms when you get defensive and that you love beer nuts.

"then why?" you ask gingerly "why did you act like you did?"

leon doesn't say anything. his jaw ticks, teeth clenched so hard that it hurts. leon's other hand comes up to your face, caressing your tear stained skin in his calloused palms. his lips part, tongue sliding along his bottom lip. "because I love you."

you blink. "what?"

"I love you like crazy," leon repeats, a breathy laugh following. "I loved you since you walked into that bar with lauren, all smiles and wearing that pretty yellow dress. sure, you scared me but you also intrigued me. when you started fighting with me, which was warranted, there was a part of me that hated it, but another part of me loved it because it was the only time you'd give me the time of day."

his thumbs smooth over your rosy cheeks as he continues, "so i'd argue with you and fight with you because I knew that would make you look at me and talk to me. and i'm so sorry. i'm sorry that I hurt you and embarrassed you and gave you all these mixed signals the past two weeks. i'm sorry that I was falling in love you more and more each day and didn't say anything until now."

"you love me?"

leon must think you're feeling skeptical about his confession, because his thumbs still on your cheeks and his face falters. "i'm not fucking with you."

"you love me." you state.

"yes," he breathes, "i've never not loved you."

"leon."

"I know. i'm sorry."

"leon...stop."

"you can hit me or smack me or drown me in this lake if that helps. i've been awful to you and then sending you mixed signals when it's the last thing I wanted to do. I got greedy with the sex and kissing but-"

"kiss me." you interrupt firmly, sliding your hands up his stomach and resting your palms flat against his pecks

"what?" leon breathes, blinking hard as your words register in his head.

"you heard me, leon," you smile, "kiss me. now."

and he does. leon kisses you with nothing besides tenderness and pure love, lips caressing and sliding along yours in a way that makes your knees feel weak. your hands slide around to his back, squeezing his muscles firmly as he continues the kiss. his tongue slides along yours, sending butterflies down your body. you pull away, both of you breathless and so in love.

"I love you too, leon." you smile, pressing another chaste kiss to his plump lips. "and I forgive you, if you can forgive me too."

he shakes his head, "there's nothing for me to forgive."

leon kisses you again, picking up right where you left off. his hands slide down your body, down to your lower back as his thumb glide over your tail bone in a soothing, gentle motion. the kiss doesn’t last nearly long enough, and you whine when he pulls away.

he grins, squeezing the flesh of your ass. "we should probably go back inside. lauren might bite my head off if I steal her best friend away any longer."

"are you sure we can't just go have a quickie first?" you ask playfully, fiddling with the hairs at the base of his neck.

he shakes his head in disbelief, a fond smile pulling at his face. "you're a freak."

"at least i'm not a freak who hates beer nuts," you tease, poking his stomach, "but forces himself to eat them."

leon wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as the two of you make your way back up to the house. "ah, but you see, I did it for the greater good."

you snort. "and what greater good was that?"

"getting the girl."

—

follow up part here

[vapekingg]

accidental i love you’s during sex is sooo steve harrington it’s unbelievable…..

Oh fuck yeah. I'm stoned as shit right now so I got you.

MDNI Steve HarringtonxFem!Reader FWB/Friends to Lovers CW: recreational drug use, choking, unprotected sex, p in v sex, creampie

Banner by @inklore

It started as a drunken mistake — hooking up with your best friend.

You and Steve had one too many beers in the parking lot of Family Video after work and ended up in the back seat of his car, windows fogged up and messy handprints leaving evidence of your tryst.

It wasn't a mistake the second time though, or the third.

You and Steve are one too many joints deep after your closing shift together now, the race back to your house was a near bloodbath as you tore at each other’s clothes and gnashed at each other’s flesh. He’s pressed against your back, moving fluidly against you. His breath hot on your ear but chilling your spine, his hips snapping forward to bury you deeper into the mattress.

Steve gets pissed off at work. He needs an outlet, and you’re happy to be just that.

With another rut of his hips, his palm ricochets off of your ass.

“Fuck!” He curses.

His other hand is hooked around your front, fingers lodged deep in your throat. You’ve been drooling around his digits, mouth wide open so that you don’t accidentally scrape him with your teeth.

“Oh my g-fuck…” Steve grinds into you, pushing the swollen head of his cock against the back of your needy cunt.

It’s hours of this. This give and take. This violent brutality pushing you to the edge and then his soothing ministrations tugging you back.

“I fucking love this,” he accentuates his words with a kiss to your shoulder, another stroke of his cock against your walls. “Fucking love it-mmf..”

He tugs his hips backwards just to slam into you again.

“Love this pussy,” he continues, hand creeping over your hip to stroke between your thighs.

“I love this fucking voice,” Steve’s fingers slip out of your mouth and a gush of saliva follows, then you’re gasping for air.

His hand travels down your throat and squeezes the columns gently. You can tell by the twitch of his hips that he’s edging on delirium.

“Love fucking you. Oh my god," His knee shifts, and suddenly his weight is pressing into you. Burying you against sweat-soaked sheets. His teeth scrape against your shoulder and dig into anywhere they can fit: your bicep, your shoulder blade, your neck. He's sinking into you as if you'll never see each other again, as if the world is ending just outside.

"I love you.”

You hear the words, but grenades are detonating in your ears. Steve's precise fingers work frantically between your thighs, toying with your overstimulated clit as you squirm and writhe beneath him.

His hips jerk, he's swelling inside of you, and then you hear it again.

"Fuck, I love you..."

You hear it in the far off corner of your mind as your release hits, and those words carry something with them. Something warm and safe that hadn't been included in this arrangement before. It cradles you during your comedown, provides that cushion between Steve's heavy body and yours and his breath begins to quicken in your ear.

A moment later, it's over. Steve stills inside of you, his length beginning to soften and then slip out, followed by the gush of his release. He's getting heavier, it's getting harder to breathe, and there's a laugh stored in your chest that you can't hold for much longer.

Steve presses a tender kiss to the shell of your right ear and you smile.

"Should we talk about—" You begin.

A breath finally enters your lungs as Steve rolls off of you.

"Nope!" He answers while falling onto his back.

Sweat clings to his chest hair and shimmers in the yellow light provided by the lamp that illuminates the room from the corner. He doesn't ask for permission, this is all routine by now. Steve closes his eyes and throws out his arm, waiting for you to join him at the rib for a post-coital cuddle.

"Well, yes. Tomorrow." He continues.

Finally, that laugh escapes you.

[transformers-spike]

we know that a good handful of decepticons ans autobots can eat pussy but get they suck pick? I have my most money on Ratchet for Autobots and I'm not exactly sure why but I think blitzwing would be one of the Decepticons. I honestly would be shaking if tfp megatron got anywhere near me with those teeth. But hey just means extra points lol

Lmao don't worry they can all suck dick as well. They can handle it just fine both in normal and mass-displaced form. Unless you're packing a freak of nature, it's an extremely easy task for them. TFP Knock out obviously does a good job at it - but if you're really looking for a nice warm glossa, go for Breakdown. He knows how to use it better than anyone else (also it's nice and cushy for something made of metal) Optimus, Ultra Magnus and obviously Wheeljack are very good at it - pull on Ultra Magnus's crest and fuck his throat. You'll get punished, yeah, but that's the fun of the game (try not to choke on his spike) But Ratchet is obv up there because he's experienced a wide variety of spikes in his life - but have fun getting him away from his work first, lol Megatron is great at blowjobs, it's just that the bitch keeps lightly grazing his denta all over your dick. He knows exactly what he's doing - he just gets a kick out of your fear. Scariest head of your life - but you'll also finish in record time Starscream is good at any kind of oral - but if you try to mouthfuck him/grab him by his crest, he's going to fucking kill you. Out of everyone Airachnid is the more likely to bite your dick TFA Yeah Blitzwing is rlly fucking up there. Icy and Hothead are both questionable because Icy will keep ruining your orgasm, while Hothead will keep on overstimulating you until you black out (also, watch out for his denta). Random is a special kind of freak - he's going to use his glossa to give you a handjob, because that thing is far too dexterous Megatron, Black Arachnia, Ultra Magnus, Prowl and Jazz are great as well (but won't suck you in a particular and weird way like Blitzwing) TFOne Sentinel is good at it, but he only sucks you off if he fancies (or if you act like such a cute little human he can't help himself) Optimus is also good at it, even if he has trouble at first - while Megatron is trying his best even if he can be uh... a bit too intense Skybound I'm telling you Thundercracker may not know what he's doing but by god - if you're his human he will give you head. You're just so cute to him. I think this goes for all Thundercrackers but shhh

[artaxlivs]

Were they kidding with this bullshit? Like, seriously? So many gates opening up to different dimensions now that there were too many for Supergirl to close and this? This is what they got? Fuck this. Seriously.

"Are you a virgin?" Mike asked like the total little dickhead he is.

"So what if I am? Aren't you? And the rest of your little friends?" Eddie sniped back at the rude little bastard but then, he blanched, "actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Why did this have to be happening when Eddie was on a perimeter check?

Mike rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe how ridiculous Eddie was being, "Dumbass, we're children. Unicorns never go to innocent children in fairy tales. Because we're all innocent. They go to innocent adults. Virgins." He put far too much emphasis on the word because he is, as mentioned, a little dickhead.

"Listen, fuck you and the unicorn you rode in on. I'm not fucking innocent. I've done...things. Things I'm not gonna tell you about!" Eddie sputtered, crossing his arms and almost losing his precarious balance on the tree branch.

He needed to be careful because there was a unicorn circling underneath him. And not the beautiful, ethereal kind. It was beautiful, sure, but it had blood all over his muzzle and splattered across it's chest and on it's front hooves. Probably from the last virgin it had tracked down in god knows what dimension and trampled slash eaten to death. It's eyes were blazing red fire and it had fangs. Fangs. Fuck. That.

Eddie heard Steve sighing and then he flailed an arm from Eddie's tree branch to Robin and said, "It can't be trying to get you because you're a virgin, it's not going anywhere near Robin!"

The girl in question squeaked. Her ears and cheeks went bright red. All three of them turned to look at her.

"Wait, what? Was it you know who? From the...? You didn't tell me? When did you...?" Steve asked cryptically, shedding absolutely no light on who Buckley was knocking boots with.

"Yes after we met at the...place." Robin supplied lamely and then bared her teeth and said through them, "After. But before we went back in to fight Henry slash Vecna slash One." She shrugged and let out a hysterical sounding giggle. "It was...End of the World Sex. Just in case, you know?"

"Ohhhh I'm so proud of you!" And oddly, Steve really did sound proud. Which was weird. Eddie was pretty sure Robin was gay which meant the caginess was in reference to a girl but the fact that Steve was so supportive was a little suprising.

Without actively thinking about the repercussions, Eddie's mouth decided to test that theory, "Well damn, wish I'd have thought of that. Steve - want to deflower me so this unicorn leaves me alone?" The hysterical giggle Eddie let out rivaled Robin's.

Slowly Steve turned back to him but before he could reply, Mike scoffed, "You are his type. Skinny, big bushy hair, big eyes, you and Nancy both talk like everyone is just waiting to listen to you to speak." He rolled his eyes, "Annoying."

"Rude!" Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, "You know what though? I'm fine with it. Nancy Wheeler is a badass and I want to be her when I grow up. Or when I get down from this tree." Eddie cringed, staring down as the unicorn stopped and looked up, one of it's flaming eyes bore into him. It neighed, shaking it's gorgeous mane but also splattering little droplets of blood everywhere.

Gross. So gross.

"Huh. Now that you mention it..." Robin stared up at Eddie thoughtfully, "I totally see it."

Steve just dragged his hand down his face and glared at the angry unicorn, "Okay, we need a real plan because Eddie isn't coordinated enough to have sex in a tree." He put his hands on his hips like a baseball mom wondering if she brought enough orange slices and Shastas for the whole team. "Do we know any other adult virgins to lure this one away?"

Mike snorted, "Those are probably more rare than the unicorn.'

Eddie flipped him off, "You're rolling at disadvantage on all charisma and persuasion checks for the rest of time."

"We'll have to find a new DM when the unicorn gores you anyway," Mike shrugged. "Whatever."

Then he wandered off. Just walked away, like Eddie wasn't two feet away from being mauled by a feral beast who's name was probably Glitter Sparkle or some shit. What a dickhead.

Looking away from the unicorn, Eddie watched Robin wave Steve over and whisper to him. They had a hushed conversation for several minutes while Eddie yelled things like, "Wanna share with the class?" and "Good friends don't make shitty plans in secret!" But they ignored him. Bastards.

Until Steve turned to the tree and asked, "By 'things' what do you mean?"

What?

"Harrington, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You said you've done 'things' but not had sex. What things?" Steve brushed a hand through his miraculously still perfect hair, and sighed, obviously frustrated, "We're trying to figure out what the unicorn considers virginity. Robin's never..." He petered off and glanced back at her and then over at Mike who was half way down the block with his radio out, sitting on a bench with his back to them, probably telling everyone that Eddie still had his V card. Traitor.

He was too far away for them to hear his conversation so he was probably too far for theirs.

Robin cleared her throat. "I've never had, you know, penetrative sex. Just...um...uh...third base!" She squeaked again and then covered her face with her hands.

"You're being extremely weird about sex talk while a blood covered unicorn is stalking me like a jungle cat!" Eddie informed her. "Oral. Just say oral sex, you weirdo!"

"Ok fine!" She shouted, "I've given and reciprocated oral sex! Jesus." Then she crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath, tapping one foot on the grass.

Eddie couldn't help it. He laughed with glee. "Was she cute?"

Robin sputtered, mouth dropping in shock.

What? Did she think she was a subtle lesbian? Because she wasn't. Not at all. Her high tops had boobs drawn on them like some twelve year old boy just hitting puberty. He rolled his eyes.

Steve looked up at Eddie then. His eyebrows were arched in that way they get when he's thinking up a plan. They're not always good plans but he carries them out and everyone usually lives so, Eddie could do worse. "Well - Big Boy?" Steve's lips twitched in a smile at using Eddie's nickname for him. "I'm guessing when you said you've done 'things,' you were lying?"

"Yeah, duh." Eddie retorted, snapping in his irritation and mounting fear. Mounting, ha. Like a horse and like sex. Mounting. He bit his lip to contain the very poorly timed giggle.

Robin rolled her eyes, grabbed Steve's arm and gave him a severe 'be careful' look and then hustled over to where Mike was sitting. When Steve tucked his bat into his backpack and started to creep around the tree, he realized she was giving them privacy. Holy shit.

The unicorn didn't even acknowledge Steve's presence as he skirted around it and climbed the tree, grunting and complaining under his breath how nobody better call him the Virginsitter because he swears to God. Then the rest of his grumbling got lost, buried under the sound of Eddie's heart pounding in his ears.

Holy shit.

And that's how Eddie lost his mythically constructed virginity in a tree to Steve Harrington who was apparently bisexual and very, very good at blowjobs.

Neither of them even noticed which way the unicorn went.

[vampiriito]

Here comes the sun. (JJ Maybank x reader)

"JJ knew it wasn't right. He knew it from the start. But nothing felt wrong about being with you when you looked at him with those eyes—eyes that seemed to pull him into a world where everything else faded away. Even for a moment. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He wasn't supposed to let himself get caught up in fleeting moments, quiet confessions and a love that was bound to eat away at everything he had. Even if he didn't have much."

He gritted his teeth, trying to stop him self from yelling. He knew arguing didn't get either of you anywhere, but right now he was fed up, he was annoyed, he wanted answers, something anything."I'm tired of you always giving me these vague ass answers. I'm tired of you just expecting me to accept whatever you give me because you know I'll take it anyway."

–„IN WHICH you and JJ blur the line between friendship and something more on a whim, and with the intent to keep things casual. But somewhere along the way things get messy in a way that JJ isn't so sure he is fond of anymore. Especially when he finds himself as the other man.

warnings; cheating, unprotected sex and uh a lil bit of overstimulation if you squint (p in v), overall a toxic ass relationship (inspired entirely by the whole trilogy album by the weeknd)

If JJ was the king of anything, he was the undisputed monarch of plunging headlong into messy, adrenaline-fueled escapades. Ask anyone even remotely acquainted with the sun-bleached blonde, and they'd tell you exactly that. JJ Maybank lived and breathed for the thrill—the intoxicating rush of adrenaline and the exhilaration of defying every rule laid before him. Boundaries were mere suggestions in his world, lines drawn in the sand only to be crossed without a second thought.

His fingers were a little too quick, a little too light—sticky fingers, they called it. He had a knack for making things disappear, a sleight of hand that was both impressive and infamous. Sneaking off to get high in the dim corners of the school's bathroom became a regular thrill, the weed smoke a temporary escape from the constraints of small-town expectations.

Cliff-jumping from perilous heights, feeling the icy embrace of the water swallow him whole. Surfing during raging hurricanes, the colossal waves towering above like ancient, uncontrollable beasts. Sneaking onto the opulent properties on Figure Eight under the cloak of darkness, stripping down to skinny dip in pools that shimmered like liquid silver under the moonlight. Each act was a defiant laugh in the face of authority, a challenge he was all too eager to accept.

These were more than just reckless antics; they were declarations of freedom. And inevitably, each daring decision earned JJ more than just disapproving glances. The scornful looks from townsfolk, the exasperated sighs of teachers, even the familiar discomfort of the police station's hard benches—all became routine parts of his life. Yet, he reveled in it. The consequences were just another thrill, another story to tell.

Risk was the air he breathed, chaos the rhythm to which his heart beat. His mission was simple: to have a good time—all the time. Consequences be damned. After all, wasn't that what being seventeen was all about? Pushing limits, tasting the forbidden, and dancing on the edge of oblivion before the weight of the world could press down on his shoulders. For JJ, the world wasn't just a playground—it was an endless expanse of possibilities, each more exciting and perilous than the last. And he was determined to seize every moment, no matter the cost. And of course, he wasn't too keen on practicing self-preservation.

Hence, you.

Saying JJ was drunk would be an understatement. It was nearing the end of a kegger thrown down at the Boneyard—a stretch of beach where the locals and tourists alike loved to party under the stars. The bonfire had dwindled to glowing embers, and JJ was definitely more than a few drinks deep, his thoughts muddled and his inhibitions long gone. Stumbling slightly, he pulled out his phone, too intoxicated to suppress the impulse as he dialed your number—a number he hadn't dared to call in weeks. Uncertainty gnawed at him; JJ wasn't quite sure what the two of you were anymore.

Before everything went downhill and your relationship morphed into one of toxic fuck buddies, you had been best friends—childhood companions who knew each other's secrets and dreams. But luck was never on JJ's side, not now nor at any point in his life. And you weren't making it any easier for him, especially since you had a boyfriend—a guy you didn't mind being seen with in public, unlike JJ. Yet behind closed doors, you were still drawn to each other, hooking up secretly whenever you got drunk or had a spat with your so-called boyfriend.

JJ leaned against a weathered piece of driftwood, the salty breeze ruffling his hair as he listened to the ringing on the other end. His heart pounded in syncopated beats, each one echoing the turmoil inside him. The moon cast a silvery glow over the restless ocean, mirroring the confusion in his eyes. The memories of your shared laughter, stolen glances, and whispered confessions flooded his mind. He knew it was reckless, reaching out to you like this, but the alcohol had blurred the lines between right and wrong.

He couldn't help but wonder if you ever thought about him the way he thought about you. To the world, you presented a picture-perfect relationship with your boyfriend, smiling and holding hands where everyone could see. Meanwhile, JJ was the shadow you retreated to when things got tough—a secret solace in moments of weakness. It stung more than he cared to admit, but he couldn't let go. Not yet.

As the phone continued to ring, JJ closed his eyes, a mix of hope and resignation washing over him. Part of him craved your voice, needing to bridge the distance that had grown between you. Another part feared what this call might lead to—a continuation of a cycle that left him feeling emptier each time.

The sounds of the diminishing party faded into the background—the distant laughter, the crackling fire—all overshadowed by the anticipation hanging in the air. JJ took a deep breath, the taste of salt and alcohol lingering on his lips, and waited to see if you'd pick up.

After the voicemail ended, he just sat on the tailgate of his truck, staring down at his phone. He didn't know what to do when he was sober, so getting drunk sure wasn't helping. He couldn't stop thinking about you - what you were doing, if you'd even listen to that stupid voicemail, and if you ever even thought about him anymore.

He groans, tossing his phone onto the dirty tailgate and burying his face in his hands. "God damn it," he mutters to himself.

The insistent ring of your phone shattered the remnants of your sleep. Groaning, you sat up on your elbows, your eyes half-lidded with the fog of early morning as you brought the phone to your face. The harsh brightness of the screen was a rude awakening—three missed calls from JJ glared back at you.

This is great, you thought, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He was probably drunk again. You recalled all too well how your impulsive midnight calls usually ended: getting fucked into the mattress by him, only for you to vanish before the morning light could truly make you real again. It was like a routine that both of you didn't speak about, through the day. As if the sun's warmth could temper the wildness of the night and kept you both sane enough to blissfully ignore the shit show that you both got yourselves into.

Now, with the missed calls and his lingering voicemail echoing in your thoughts, you hesitated before reaching for the phone once more. Yet, drawn by a mix of longing and inevitability, you found yourself dialing him back, even if your fingers trembled with uncertainty.

He’s honestly surprised you called back - he’s not really sure what he expected to happen, but it definitely wasn’t an answered call. He grabs the phone as soon as it starts ringing, answering without even a ‘hello’. He takes a second to get over his initial surprise before he responds.

“I didn’t really think you’d call me back” He says, his speech still a little slurred from being drunk.

"Why are you calling me?" you replied, your tone harsher than you intended. The sound of his voice, and the fact that he sounded like he was plastered made your heart clench a little; but you pushed the feeling down.

He sighs, a small part of him hoping for a more emotional response from you - of course you’d never give him that though. It only ever made it hurt all the more.

“I just-“

He’s not even sure why he called you. It’s a habit at this point to call you during the wee hours of the night, when he’s not thinking straight and he can blame the alcohol for any of the stupid things he says. He doesn’t even really know what to say now, feeling too vulnerable to act like the carefree idiot he normally is.

“I just… missed you, I guess”

And now JJ feels like an idiot. His head is starting to hurt a little, not only from the alcohol but also from trying to express his feelings for once - not that you cared. You never really cared all that much for him anyway.

"That's nice... but you're drunk." you stated, sighing. You didn't mean to come off so rude, but you were half asleep; and with the way your relationship with him was going you were never... emotional with each other. You used to be, but shit happens when you grow up into dumb 17 year olds.

It was bittersweet to think about, that 6 months ago roughly, you were still best friends and that only, no fucking or arguing involved. Every time you'd be with JJ the thought of your boyfriend would haunt you, and you'd end up leaving before sunrise, ending in the same cycle. Having him drunk call you at 3 am or the other way around.

JJ rolled his eyes, though you couldn’t obviously see it. Your words stung a little more than he’d like to admit, though that was normal at this point. There was always just a part of him that hoped you’d sound excited or at least happy to hear from him - and now that you didn’t sound like it, it was almost a cold reminder of what your relationship really was. A dirty, tangled mess.

“So it’s okay when you’re drunk and can’t keep your hands off me, but it’s wrong when I’m the drunk one?” He muttered bitterly,

"Did you call me to make snarky comments?" you bit back, the reminder of your own actions feeling like a bucket of cold water, his words almost waking you up fully.

He chuckled humorlessly, almost scoffing at your words. He knew you weren’t gonna take any of this seriously - hell, he wasn’t even really expecting anything out of this call in the first place.

“No,” He paused, and for a moment he thought about telling you how he really felt and just spilling everything, but it’s not like you’d ever believe him anyway. “I just wanted to talk to you… I’m tired of you just- disappearing all the time when you’re done with me for the night.”

"I'm sorry?" you asked in mock disbelief, although you heard him clearly. You felt guilty if he put it that way, especially since you also had a boyfriend. "And what could we possibly talk about?"

He took a deep breath before sighing again, running a hand through his hair in frustration, tugging at the strands. He knew damn well you weren’t going to talk about anything serious, but he was a little too drunk at this point to think rationally.

“I dunno, our lives? The fact that you’re basically cheating on your boyfriend every time you come over and you won’t even look me in the eye the next day?”

"I don't hear you complaining when i come over. In fact you seem pretty enthusiastic to me." you spat back bitterly. That was one hell of a reality check.

He felt a pang of annoyance go through him. You always seemed to twist things around and avoid the fact that you were doing something wrong.

“Of course I’m enthusiastic-“ He said, scoffing again. “And who’s fault is that? I’m not the one with a boyfriend.”

"As if you'd do it any differently if you had a girlfriend." you scoffed, shaking your head. You knew what you were doing was morally wrong. Hell, sometimes you wanted to walk around with a sticker on your forehead that said 'cheating slut.' But he had no right to point it out when he was just as guilty as you were, given he knew about your boyfriend. "...-and you know i have a boyfriend, but that doesn't seem to stop you from sticking your dick inside me."

He felt another stab to the chest at your crude words, and he hated the fact that you had a point. “Damnit,”

He ran his hand through his hair again, trying to keep his cool. The last thing he wanted right now was some pointless argument, but of course, that’s what ended up happening anyway.

“That’s not the point, okay?” He said, almost sounding desperate to convince you to understand. Of course, you never did.

He sighed, frustrated and tired of going around in circles all the time. How many more times would you do this - how many more times was he going to let you come back just to forget everything the next day and go back to being with your boyfriend as if nothing happened in the first place?

“So are you just gonna ignore that what we’re doing is messed up, or what?” He asked, his tone harsher than before.

"I'm not ignoring anything okay? it's just-.. i can't just remove you from my life. Go ahead and do it; if you're feeling like doing the morally good thing.." you mumbled, your cold façade cracking just a little.

JJ’s heart clenched at your words. He knew you meant it, too - even if your feelings for him didn’t run too deep, there was just something in you that couldn’t just cut him off, either.

“Don’t give me that,” He said, although his voice softened a little at your tone. There was a part of him that just wanted to reach through the phone and pull you into his arms, but he held back - he knew that would only make things more complicated.

"Look, I'm just saying. You don't have to do this.. and yet here we both are.." you mumbled in something that sounded like resignation.

JJ couldn’t do much but sigh again at your words. You knew him too well, it almost frustrated him how you could see through him. The truth was, he didn’t have to do this, but for some reason he always did.

He chuckled darkly, running his hand through his hair yet again. There was a part of him that knew how toxic this relationship was, and yet he never wanted to stop either.

“Yeah, here we are..”

A silence fell between the 2 of you for a moment. It wasn’t an entirely comfortable silence, but it was a little less tense than the conversation before.

After a moment though, JJ decided to speak a question that he always wondered, but never had the courage to ask. “So… how’s your boyfriend?”

"He's.." you started, "-well, not on the island. I dunno.. he's on vacation with his parents right now.." you mumbled almost dismissively, rubbing your hand over your face to ease up the sick feeling and the slight irritation tugging at you.

JJ didn’t respond for a moment, letting the information sink in. Honestly, he was almost surprised your boyfriend was not around for once. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it made him feel a little hopeful.

He took a deep breath, gathering up his courage before speaking. “You’re uh, alone then.. huh?”

"Yeah." you answered simply, falling silent almost as soon as the words left your mouth.

JJ felt relief at your confirmation, though he could tell that there was something off in your tone. You seemed almost tired and maybe even sad. He didn’t want to ask why though - it wasn’t like you’d be telling the truth anyway, and it didn’t matter why you were alone in the first place. All that really mattered to him was the fact that you were alone right now.

He took a deep breath before speaking again, his tone a little tentative, almost as if he was feeling you out. “You… want me to come over?”

"Do you wanna come over?" you asked, narrowing your eyes even though he couldn't see it given you were on the phone.

He chuckled slightly at your response. Even when all hell broke loose between the 2 of you, you always somehow found a way to be stubborn about things. It was almost endearing, if not maddening.

“Oh, you’re asking for my opinion now, huh?” He said, his tone lighthearted - for now at least.

“Well, the answer’s yes, I want to come over. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

You hummed knowingly, "I'll leave the window open in case you follow through with that." you spoke after a small moment of silence.

JJ smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly at your words. How did you always manage to keep things so casual between the 2 of you?

“You know I will.” He said softly, already getting up from where he was sitting. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

True to his word, JJ arrived at your place shortly after your call. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the quiet, wealthy neighborhood. He couldn't help but notice that the house was shrouded in darkness, each window unlit—a clear signal that everyone else in your household was fast asleep. A sly grin tugged at the corners of his lips. Good, that worked for him. The stillness of the night amplified the distant hum of cicadas and the gentle rustling of leaves stirred by a balmy breeze.

Navigating with practiced ease, he made his way around to the back of your house. The familiar path was etched into his memory, each step bringing back a rush of shared whispers and hidden laughter from a long time ago. A time that he tried not to think about. Your bedroom window stood slightly ajar, just as you'd promised—a silent invitation.

He hoisted himself up effortlessly, the muscles in his arms flexing as he gripped the windowsill. Careful not to make any noise that might disturb the tranquil hush, he slipped through the opening with the grace of someone who'd done this many times before. The scent of your room enveloped him—a gentle mix of lavender and the unmistakable essence that was uniquely yours. He closed the window behind him.

The dim moonlight cast long shadows, but JJ moved confidently. He had long since memorized the layout of your bedroom—the way your desk was cluttered with scattered, expensive makeup and perfume, the cozy chair draped with a soft blanket, the shelf overflowing with well-worn books. His gaze lingered on the small details, each one a reflection of you.

You heard him come through the window, slipping out of bed and walking so you were standing in front of him, watching him fix the curtains after closing the window. You scanned him as well as you could in the dim light. He looked like he always looked, handsome. Sometimes you couldn't believe your small booger infested best friend grew up into a 17 year old who looked like America's next heartthrob.

Despite that, he still looked a little wrecked, like he was plastered and he had a rough night, your tone a little softer than how it was on the phone, "you look like a mess.."

JJ chuckled lightly at your words, giving you a small smirk. He knew he looked like a wreck - his hair was messier than usual, shirt wrinkled, and eyes half-lidded with exhaustion from the alcohol.

He took a step towards you, standing right in front of you and looking down at you in the dark. He always forgot how much shorter you were than him. "So I look like a mess and you still called me over, huh?"

"I couldn't possibly know what you looked like..." you mumbled, raising your brows as you gazed up at him.

He chuckled again, a low, hoarse sound. He knew you were bullshitting, but he couldn't really care at the moment. All he wanted was you.

He lifted one of his hands, brushing his thumb over your chin. “Yeah, of course you didn't..” He said, his tone sarcastic.

“Did you call me over just to criticize the way I look? Damn, talk about rude.”

"No-.. sorry.. i just, felt like i needed to point it out." you spoke nodding along with your own words.

He could tell that you were lying again - you always apologized when you didn't mean it, but tonight he wasn't going to call you out on it. He was too drunk for that.

He chuckled again, pulling you closer to him, his other arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you against him. He leaned down a bit, speaking in a low voice by your ear.

"So then, why did you call me over?"

"Technically you suggested to come over.." you deflected given you had no answer to that. Sex? that was always the main factor either of you saw each other alone.

He snorted, a small smirk on his face at your answer. At least you were being honest about that part. He leaned down further, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke in a soft, gravelly tone.

“Now we’re just gonna be petty about technicalities?”

He heard you hum in response, your arms coming up around his shoulders, fingers tracing over the back of his neck almost lazily and making him shiver slightly against your touch.

He felt the familiar pull of lust starting to stir up in him, and suddenly he couldn’t hold back. He suddenly wrapped his arm around your thighs, easily picking you up against him and carrying you over to the bed.

He sat down on the bed, setting you down in his lap, your knees on either side of him.

He let his hands wander down to your waist, gripping your hips as he pulled you close to him, his lips pressing against your neck, trailing kisses down your throat. God, he'd missed the way you felt in his hands..

Your hands found purchase on his shoulders almost without realizing. It felt like your body already knew what to do, having done it so many times already. Despite that you always managed to get turned on in a way that it didn't feel repetitive or routinely when sleeping with JJ.

He groaned against your throat, his hands already working at the waistband of the shorts you were wearing and trying to pull them off of you in the position the two of you were in.

He left a trail of kisses down your throat to your collarbone, his teeth gently sinking into your skin, trying to find that one sensitive spot that he knew always drove you crazy.

A moan escaped your lips as soon as his teeth found the specific spot under your jaw. It was like he knew what your body liked already and in some fucked up it was endearing. Even when you were technically cheating on your boyfriend. You ground your hips gently, your hands tangling in his already messy hair, messing it up even more.

He groaned softly against your skin when he felt your hips grinding down on him almost hesitantly, his arms wrapping around your waist a little tighter. Damn how he’d missed this, even when he was aware just how wrong it was to be doing what he was doing with you.

He suddenly pulled his head back, his lips finding yours as he kissed you deeply, desperately. He always had to remind himself that he couldn’t leave any marks on you

You cupped his jaw, your fingers splayed out on his cheeks returning the kiss messily, deepening it almost instantly, again, in a practiced way.

His hands quickly found the hem of your shirt, pushing it up and over your head and tossing it onto the floor. He wanted to feel your skin, your body, everything. It'd been too long since the last time he was allowed to do this.

He pulled back from the kiss, his hands pushing your hair back and he looked up at you, his eyes roaming over your body in the dim light of the room.

He let his eyes trail down to your neck and collarbone, a little mark on your collarbone from a previous time they were together still remaining. He suddenly leaned down again, pressing kisses to it before gently biting down on your skin again, his mouth trailing the same path as his eyes towards your breasts covered by your thin bralette. He pressed soft, almost reverent kisses on the skin, his hand kneading your other breast gently.

He looked up at you again when he was done, his breath a little ragged.

"You still taking the pill?"

"You didn't bring a condom?" you asked, furrowing your brows at his question in mild annoyance. Some people had dirty talk before they fucked, you two had this. Having to make sure nothing went wrong and asking the questions you had to ask in a casual manner.

He chuckled, shaking his head and rolling his eyes slightly. Honestly, he knew he should’ve expected the question, but it still amused him how quickly you both went from being all over each other to the serious questions.

He ran his hands up your thighs and gripped your hips, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin.

"Of course I didn't.."

His hands were still at your hips, his fingers pulling at the hem of your shorts as he looked up at you. His eyes seemed just slightly darker than usual.

"So I'll take that as a yes.." It was a statement, not a question - he already knew the answer. You'd never said no before after all.

"Of course it is a yes... you never bring condoms for some reason." you muttered shaking your head in disbelief, your hands reaching behind you to unclip your bralette.

He smirked when he saw you reach back, his eyes on your hands as they unclip the clasp and push the straps over your shoulders, discarding the item of clothing somewhere on the floor.

"I told you - I don’t like them." He said simply, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he looked you over again, growing more uninterested in the conversation at hand.

"Yeah but we can't afford to.. have any slip ups.." your voice was slightly hesitant as you gazed down at him; still straddling him, your expression a stark contrast from the fact that you were on his lap topless. You could tell he was still drunk, and you were kinda feeling the reality of the situation settle in for a split second. After a few weeks of not talking, or sleeping with each other for that matter, you guilt came back full force. But it was pushed down quickly, as it usually was. You felt like a horrible person but you just couldn't help it. Especially when it was JJ.

He raised a hand, gently cupping your cheek, running his thumb over your skin. His touch was a little bit gentler than usual, the alcohol in his system making him a bit more sentimental and open.

"Hey - it’s okay, we won't have any slip ups. I know you’re on birth control, I know you’re careful. We’ve don’t this enough times, everything is fine."

He was reassuring you as best as he could given his state and the fact that he was trying to ignore the guilt in the pit of his own stomach.

He let his hand fall from your face to your waist again as he continued to talk, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the skin there.

"I’ve never once forgotten to pull out. It’s gonna be okay."

He could tell you were worried - you always got like this whenever you thought about the slim possibility that there could be consequences for what the two of you were doing.

You were gonna say something but held back, you were already half naked and he was already in your room; you couldn't possibly deny yourselves of this, especially when you could feel how hard he was. Stopping this one time wasn't gonna make either of you better people or fix the mess you were so deeply buried in. So, you cupped his face, leaning down to kiss him sloppily once again, the kiss hot and hurried in a way.

He groaned against your lips, his hands going to your hips and digging his fingers in to hold you in place. The taste of your lips against his and your skin against his skin sent his heart racing in a way he hadn't felt in a long time with you.

He felt your tongue against his lips and he opened his mouth, his tongue pressing against yours as he kissed you hungrily, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip gently.

He suddenly grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, your bodies now flush against his. He groaned again, and he had to stop himself from asking any stupid questions - they'd both just be lies anyway since they'd never get any answers out of you.

He pushed his tongue against your teeth, the kiss more sloppy now as he tasted the inside of your mouth, his hands roaming over your back, your sides, your hips - trying to touch you everywhere he could, cover as much skin as he could.

Your tongues tangled as you let the kiss deepen, your hands cupping his jaw holding it tightly, your head tilting to the side gently, He tasted like beer and vodka with a hint of weed, and your thoughts swirled in your head, questions and some snarky comments even. Why was he here with you when he could've hooked up with a random girl at the party he was at? why was he putting up with this shit, if you were arguing on the phone before he came over? But you guessed that just like you, this was his way of taking the frustration out his system. After all, physical was better than emotional even though you both fucked with each other's emotions more than you fucked probably.

He moved his hands from your back to your hips again, and suddenly started to pull them down against his own, forcing your hips to rock against his. He groaned softly against your lips as he felt the friction against his lap, his already half-hard cock getting even harder now. It wasn't enough though, it never was, and he always wanted more than he probably deserved when it came down to this.

He groaned again against your lips, the sound guttural as he continued to guide your hips against his - pushing your clothed core against his own still-clothed hard on.

He pulled away from your lips to start trailing kisses down your neck and your collarbone, his tongue and teeth leaving light marks against your skin that would disappear in the morning. It wasn’t like he could do much more even he wanted to, but he would always have to make sure there was no actual damage to your skin, for the sake of your boyfriend.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he pushed your hips down, all your worries vanishing for the split second of pleasure, grinding down while your hands held onto his shoulders, your breathing growing more ragged as he continued to nibble at your throat gently. You felt slightly dizzy, your head spinning a little at the overwhelming feelings which your brain tried to register all at once. The feeling of his hands holding your hips, roaming over your sides, waist and ribs, his lips moving across the sensitive skin of your throat, all of it was almost sickening in a good way.

He smirked against your neck slightly, feeling your whole body shiver under his hands. He pushed his lips down to the top of your breast, his tongue and teeth leaving a small mark on the side. It would probably just look like a regular ol' bruise and wouldn’t be an immediate cause for suspicion from anyone else, so he felt okay leaving it there.

He pulled you down from straddling him, lifting his hips off your bed so that he could flip the two of you over so that his body was on top of yours, leaning over you as he pulled his shirt off.

The skin on his chest and his abdomen were warm against your body, his broad shoulders hovering over you as he leaned down against you, his forearms rested on either side of your head. He hovered there for a second, his eyes trailing over your face and chest before he leaned down to press his lips against yours again.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, returning his kiss instantly like you always did, the warmth of his body welcome against your skin. You grazed your nails gently across his shoulder blades as you kissed him back eagerly, tongues tangling in a familiar dance.

He groaned into your mouth, his body shivering when he felt your nails on his back. He deepened the kiss in response, his hands roaming and touching your body wherever he could. He wanted to touch every bare piece of your skin underneath him - to savor every taste and sound that he could get out of you from what time you had.

He broke the kiss again, his lips going back down to the skin of your neck, his tongue leaving a wet trail over your collarbone. His teeth scraped against your throat and he had to stop himself from biting too hard, knowing that there were some limits he couldn’t pass. He had to be extra careful, as if he even could be, with things like this. He pushed that thought out of his head and continued on your skin, his lips finding their way down to your chest.

In some way you could tell that by the way he was kissing your neck he was hesitant. Afraid to push some boundary that you both set at the beginning of this whole thing. Again it was endearing in a way, if you didn't think about the fact that he respected the boundary in the first place for the sake of your relationship. In moments like these you wondered why you were even dating your boyfriend in the first place; when you and JJ obviously had something, even if it was hid underneath arguments and screaming matches peppered with snarky comments. But then it was the whole paradox of you basically cheating on your boyfriend with him, which wouldn't technically work in the long term with JJ. After all the way you win them is the way you lose them, despite knowing that you and him had something genuine you wouldn't be forced to go look for it somewhere else.

You took the time to shrug off the shorts you were wearing along with your underwear, saving him the trouble of him doing it him self, your hands going back to tugging at his hair, or run your nails along the skin of hi shoulder blades mindlessly.

He pushed himself up for a second, sitting up on his knees to get his own pants off, pushing them down over his hips and tossing them on the floor. He looked down at you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. It never failed to take his breath away, to see you like this when it was just the two of you and nothing else.

He suddenly shifted, pulling your hips roughly towards his lap again and positioning himself between your legs.

He leaned back over you, his chest against yours as he let his weight fall into you. He reached one hand down between your legs, his fingers searching for the heat between them as he looked down at you again. He saw you bite your lip, holding back a slight gasp from the touch, and that was all he needed to continue, the slight hitch in your breath sending his imagination spiraling, as if he hadn't done this more times that he could possibly keep count of.

You let your eyes flutter closed for a second as soon as his fingers made contact with you, your lips parting ever so slightly at the feather light touch and the contrast between his weight on top of you.

He continued using his fingers, moving them in rhythmic, careful motions that he knew all too well how to do. He shifted himself just slightly, making it easier to reach his other hand down to your hip, grabbing it and holding you still as he continued to use his fingers.

His fingers kept their pace, the feeling of your wetness against them making it difficult for him to do so. He wanted to lose himself in the feeling, to get you to the point where you’d make that pretty little sound that only he knew how to bring out of you.

Your brows scrunched up ever so slightly, your breathing sputtery as his fingers moved in rhythmic circular motions over your clit. You let your lips part a little, small moans escaping them as soon as they did. It was insane how he instantly knew how to move his fingers, as soon as he touched you the familiar feeling of pleasure building, the focused look in his eyes intensifying the lust filling your senses.

He smirked slightly when he heard the moans escaping your mouth, seeing the effect he had on you. It was still an ego boost for him every time he got a reaction out of you. He loved knowing that he could give you a moment of pleasure away from the rest of the world. He wanted those moments for himself, to get that one little bit of you when he could get it because he knew he wouldn’t be able to give it to you again when the sun came up.

His fingers kept their pace, keeping up with your breathing that started to get more ragged and harsh. He wanted to bring you to that point, the one where you’d get lost in the feelings he was giving you and his body pinning yours onto the bed. He wanted you to feel pleasure and only think of him, to give him everything he needed because he knew that in the morning, you’d be gone again and he’d be forced to be alone once more in the same cold bed he’d been in for a while.

Your eyes fluttered open to lock with his, your face still scrunched up in pleasure, your legs parting slightly without realizing when he slipped them inside you. His fingers although moving at a relatively fast pace, they felt almost tender even. And you were glad for that subconsciously, given it's been a while. You wouldn't admit it to JJ obviously, but when it came to doing these things with your boyfriend they felt rehearsed, like he'd do everything robotically. JJ was different, despite being rougher, you felt like it was allowed between you with how familiar you both were with each other due the long friendship backing this shit show that was unraveling more and more between you 2 the more you slept together. Like a train wreck that just kept on wrecking.

He looked back at you, his eyes locked with yours. It was stupid of him to allow himself more than this - just a moment of pure bliss between you two - but somehow he was always a fool when it came to you.

He suddenly moved his hand away from between your legs, bringing it up instead to rest next to your head, his free hand still holding your hip in place as he leaned his body down against yours

He brought his lips down to your neck again, his teeth scraping against the soft skin as he moved them further down to your collarbone, leaving more marks. He didn’t care if your boyfriend would notice them - he hated whenever he saw them on your skin - because if there was one thing JJ was it was selfish. He was selfish and he was selfish when it came to you above all others.

When he pulled his fingers away and slipped them out from inside you you were left feeling a bit empty, physically that was. Emotionally you felt empty for a long time now when it came to him. It was ridiculous. Your hands reached up to run through his hair, your fingers carding through the messy strands, allowing yourself to relish into the pleasant feeling of his warm body against yours, the way he kissed your neck more feverishly now.

He shivered against you when you ran your fingers through his hair, his breath hitching just slightly. He almost hated just how much he actually felt when you did that, to how easily you could distract him with just the simplest of touches.

He moved his attention to your chest once more, his lips and tongue marking the sensitive skin, his mouth leaving small, dark marks in their trail. He made sure to keep them mostly below your collarbone, where they’d be easy to cover up in the morning.

He kissed the skin on your chest again before pushing himself back onto his knees, still between your legs. He looked down at you, his eyes darkened and his breathing heavy. He loved seeing how wrecked you were when he got down like this with you, your skin covered in marks and small reminders of him for the days, and weeks, ahead. Reminders he knew you’d try to hide again from everyone else.

He grabbed your hips again, his grip firm as he held onto you and pulled you closer to him. He shifted, lining himself up with you as he looked down at you again, waiting for permission to continue. You found yourself nodding, granting him the permission he asked for almost mindlessly, your body taut with anticipation.

He swallowed a breath again, his eyes glancing down to what he was doing before he looked back at you, seeing your own eyes locked with his as he teased your clit with the tip of his cock. He could practically feel the anticipation from you, the same as him. He knew it was stupid, that this was the same cycle the two of you continued. You were together in the moment, and distant in the morning. But he was a fool and so were you, and that was something neither of you could help.

He pushed himself forward, sinking into you as he did. He let his eyes slip shut for a moment, a slight exhale leaving his lips as he did, the feeling of you enveloping him familiar but still overwhelming for him. It was always like the first time he got to do this with you, and it hurt him each time, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to give this up anytime soon. He wouldn’t be able to get the chance to get over you because you were always there in the middle of the night.

You drew in a breath, the physical emptiness melting as soon as he was inside you again. It was always overwhelming and mind-numbing despite being done multiple times already. Ironic. You arched up a little, despite still needing a few moments to adjust fully. The stinging wasn't unpleasant, at least not with JJ. It meant you could hold onto it and have it make your stomach constrict and your chest tighten.

He looked back down at you, seeing you arch your back against the bed, the feeling of you still wrapping around him making it hard for him to concentrate. He held onto your hips again, his fingers digging into the skin there to keep himself stable.

He had to hold himself back a little bit, from moving too quickly. He knew that even if you didn’t care, there was a risk of getting caught by your family, and he didn’t want to give them any real reason to hate him any more than they probably already did.

He let out another breath, his breathing getting quicker as he began to move in small thrusts, each one sending a ripple of pleasure through both of you. He held back a moan when he did, trying to keep quiet, and he knew that you were doing the same, the two of you having to stay quiet to avoid too much attention to the fact that he was here right now.

As he began to move you let out a small breath accompanied by a moan, which you knew you had to muffle in order not to accidentally wake up anyone, your palm moving to cover your mouth, prevent the sounds to spill out.

He let his eyes glance down, watching as your hand moved to your mouth as another small moan escaped you. It was hard for him not to pick up his pace at that sight, the fact that you felt the need to be quiet. He wanted you to be able to be loud (like obscenely loud), and to let his name fall from those pretty lips without a care in the world. But he knew that that wasn’t possible - not in this moment or ever - so he had to keep this all as a secret and a memory.

He continued doing the slow, almost rhythmic movements inside of you, the position allowing him to sink deep. His eyes stayed on your face, watching the way your eyes closed and the way your body reacted to all the feelings he was giving you. It was as if he were burning into memory every single expression you made in this moment, knowing that by the time the sun rose in the morning, this moment would be forgotten by you, but him alone. And he knew that he had to savor this, savor these moments, just to keep him going in the days and weeks to come.

"I wanna change.. behind.." you found yourself mumbling without realizing through the hesitant moans, your eyes fluttering open to lock with his.

He paused for a moment, still buried deep inside you, to take in your words. It took him a second to realize what you meant, but when he did, he couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared on his face.

He was all for trying out new things with you, but he didn’t expect you to come up with it yourself. He nodded quickly, pulling himself out of you and backing away a little to give you room to switch positions.

You shifted on your hands and knees, your forearms slipping under your pillow slightly, arching your back up a little, all the while steadying your breath.

He couldn’t help but let out a small, shaky breath upon seeing the position you were now in. Seeing you like that was always so arousing to him, especially when it was your choice to do so. It was like you were submitting to him, and it was hard to keep his own pace when you did.

He shifted closer behind you, one of his hands resting at your hip as he used the other to prop himself up, his eyes looking down at you. He swallowed a breath again, his mouth growing a little bit dry at the sight of you bent over in front of him, waiting for him to take you again. It was the best thing to him - this position. Because like this, he could pretend that you were his, and his alone, even though he knew that you would never be. And it was this moment, he felt in control of you, and it was one of the few moments where you allowed yourself to be JJ and [name] and no one else.

He took a shaky breath before sliding himself back into you, letting out another groan, louder than he meant to. Thankfully, you had buried your head in your pillow, to prevent that sweet moan you knew would let out once he was back inside you.

You arched a little more, tilting your head back allowing him to muffle your sounds more easily now that he stood up straight, his big hand almost covering the lower part of your face, the other hand holding your hip to guide him self in and out of you at a steady pace, hitting that sweet spot inside you.

He continued to thrust into you slowly, although he didn’t know how long he could keep this up, the feeling of you wrapped around him and your sounds beneath his hand beginning to get to him. He leaned closer to you, his chest against your back, and brought his mouth down to your shoulder to try and muffle his own sounds against your skin, his lips against the marks he left earlier, his own small reminders of the time he spent with you like this. The only reminders really.

He couldn’t help but feel just a little greedy, not wanting to slow down as he continued at a relentless pace now, even though he knew someone in this house could easily wake up and check on you. He wanted just a little more time, and a little more of you, even though he knew that it could mess everything up.

He pushed himself in a little rougher now, making sure not to press too hard against your shoulder to keep himself quiet. He knew he was being selfish and careless, but he just wanted these moments, to hold onto them so that he would have something to keep him from breaking in the morning. He wanted just a little more time in this bed, with you, so that he could pretend it was all okay. That he was just a dumb teenager sneaking into the room of his girlfriend and mess around, under the nose of her family. It was far from that.

He continued with the relentless pace which allowed him to kiss your cervix with every thrust, his hand on your hip gripping you tighter to keep you still against him, as his hips moved against yours, pulling more whimpers and moans out of you, even with his hand covering your mouth. It was harder to hear you now, but he was satisfied that he was able to muffle most of the sounds that came out of you. He also knew that he would be satisfied with these memories until the next time he could sneak in and this could happen again, over and over again, in a never-ending cycle.

You knees dug into the mattress for support, still resting on your forearms, back arched up perfectly so you could have him buried deep inside you, the action one akin to a cat arching its back. Your sounds muffled by his hand were growing more frequent now, although they sounded more like mewls instead of actual moans.

His own sounds got a little louder, but he was still able to keep it quiet. He let out a low moan, but it was quickly cut off by him biting into your shoulder again, trying to distract himself from the feeling by leaving more marks. He knew it was self-serving, and that you had to deal with the fallout of that in the morning, but he hoped that you wouldn't mind too much, especially since it meant he could keep a small reminder of you on him as well.

He continued to bite down onto your skin, leaving small marks there in different spots which varied from the back of your neck and your shoulder, marking and claiming you as his even if he didn't really have any right. But JJ was so used to being alone, and he just wanted something that was his, even for just this moment.

He continued to bite and suck into your skin, as his pace started to quicken, losing himself a little bit in trying to drown out the world and enjoy this moment as much as he could, in case it could be the last time it happened. He knew that he was being careless, that this could all end in an instant if someone barged in on them. But he wanted more, he wanted you all to himself, even though he knew you'd never allow it.

One of your hands reached up gently, as if trying to pry his hand from your mouth to speak. You wanted to change positions again, to maybe prolong it a little bit more, even if once it ended you didn't exactly know when you'd sleep together again.

He took a deep breath slowly removing his hand from your mouth to let you speak, curious about what you would say. He could still feel you shuddering against him, the pace of his movements not letting up, but slowing just a little bit, waiting for your next words.

"Let's switch again.." you almost whimpered out, turning your head to gaze at him over your shoulder.

He slowed down and pulled himself out, taking a moment to control his breathing before nodding. He wasn’t going to say no to you.

"How do you want it this time?"

"Missionary.." you mumbled, shifting once again, your limbs shaky and a bit uncoordinated as you moved to lay on your back.

He watched you as you moved, his eyes wandering over the marks he left on your body, some already starting to form into little bruises, like reminders of the fact that he was here, that he had been with you. His eyes glanced down at the way your body quivered and how your breath hitched as you laid down and waited for him, making his own breath hitch in response.

"Yeah, yeah… okay…" he mumbled, shifting to situate himself in front of you.

He slowly settled between your thighs, his hands on them already pushing them apart. He was a little impatient, but he tried to give himself some time to breathe and pull himself together, as he looked down at you, the sight in front of him still just as good as the first time he had you like this, just as breathtaking as it was the first time he had you underneath him.

He slowly lined himself up with your entrance, looking down at you as he did, silently asking for permission, waiting for any sign to tell him that this was what you really wanted, even though he already knew. He still wanted to be respectful, even if everything they did in these moments was the opposite of respectful, and it was hard for him to hold back the sounds that wanted to come out of his own throat when he saw you laying there, waiting for him, legs and lips parted and eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure.

You nodded eagerly, brows knitting up in desperation and plea, your tongue darting out to run over your lips.

He couldn’t help the sound of a sigh coming out of his mouth when he saw that, at your desperate nod and the way your tongue seemed to be begging without words. It made his stomach swoop and his chest tighten at the sight, the way you wanted him still surprising him every time. One might have thought that he would get used to it, but no, it just made his want for you grow.

He couldn’t hold back anymore, he pushed himself back into you once, letting out a low moan as he did, but quickly he covered his mouth at the sound that came out of him. He let out a shaky breath as he pulled his hand away, his eyes looking down at you as he pushed again, his pace starting out slow, but getting more and more rougher again.

You spread your legs a little, wrapping them around his waist loosely to fully bury him inside you, along with your arms around his neck, every time he slipped inside you felt like heaven. Your lower stomach was already beginning to grow taut again, the pleasure coiling and ready to snap. You tilted your head back into the pillow your mouth falling open slightly.

He couldn’t stop himself from watching you as he continued, the view of you laid back among the pillows, your head tilted back and your hair splayed out against the white fabric, the way you seemed to almost glow in the dim light, even through the darkness. His hand came down to your hip, holding you in place as he got more rougher with his thrusts, his breath sputtery and ragged.

He looked down at you again, his eyes taking in all of your reactions, feeling your hands and legs on him, and how you felt around him. The sounds that came out of his mouth were low, as he tried to not let his voice get too loud in case anyone in your house could hear him and what he was doing to you. But it was hard, the sight of you making him want to let out every sound he was holding back, everything he had been holding back from you and this for so long since he first had you. JJ wasn't one to be quiet during these things, he liked to talk and he wasn't afraid to moan or whimper, he was no bitch about that kind of thing. But he had to, at least when it came to you. He had to be quiet and treat this as it was- a thing that was done on a whim and that had to be kept at a low volume.

"Feels so good.. like that.." you mumbled, your eyes fluttering open, trying to suppress the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips when you spoke, your words quiet. You still clung to him, your nails digging into the soft sun-kissed skin of his shoulder blades.

He was almost surprised that you were able to speak in sentences, knowing that this must have felt just as good for you as it did for him. The sounds you made, the way you held onto him and the way you looked all served to make it hard for him to hold back.

"Yeah?" he panted, his voice coming out a little strangled even as he mumbled. "Does it feel that good?"

"Mhm..." you whimpered weakly in response, your legs wrapping around his waist to bring him even deeper, letting out a choked moan at the feeling. "Faster.. go faster J.."

He felt his stomach swoop and tighten at your response—at the small nickname, and when he felt you wrap your legs around him to bring him in deeper, he thought he saw stars for a second. He looked down at you with a desperate expression, his eyes searching your face for confirmation. When you told him to go faster, he took one breath before nodding and picking up the pace, his hips moving against you at a faster pace now.

"Fuck.. yeah.. that's good.. so good" You spoke in a hushed murmur, barely above the sound of your racing heart. Your head tilted back further into the pillow as if seeking refuge in the softness beneath, while your body instinctively arched upward into his chest. Without conscious thought, your nails dug gently into his back, and your fingers traced tender, desperate patterns, as if each scratch could etch the memory of this solace onto your skin. Every quiet touch was a silent plea for more—a wordless confession of longing and vulnerability in the darkness of the room.

He couldn’t help but let out a strangled moan when he heard you say that, the sound almost escaping from his throat before he could try to muffle it against the skin of your shoulder. The way your nails were digging into his back was sending sparks through his body, and he was sure that in the morning he would have little half-moon marks and scratches there as a reminder of this moment.

He continued to pick up the pace as you pushed closer to him, his thrusts getting a little rougher and faster than before. He could feel your back arching up into his chest, the feeling of your nails scratching against his back almost enough to send him over the edge. He bit into your shoulder to muffle another sound, and his arm wrapped around you, holding you closer to him almost tenderly.

His arm wrapped around your middle clutched at you, lifting your lower back from the bed ever so slightly, thrusting deeper and deeper causing your mouth to fall open a little, jaw slack from the white hot pleasure.

He felt the way you gasped, and he could feel the way your body trembled beneath him as he continued to hold you closer to him, his arm around you helping him with the angle. He continued to muffle his sounds against your skin, as if still trying to keep this moment a secret from the world, the sounds coming out of his own mouth just as obscene as the ones coming from your lips.

He was starting to forget about everything else in the world as the orgasm built, the world outside the window of your bedroom, the people in the house with you, even all the things around him in your room, just focusing on you and the way you felt against him, the way your body was wrapped around him and the way you sounded, your little mewls and whimpers that he loved hearing and wanted to hear even more of. He didn’t care if he was being greedy in the moment, he just wanted it to last.

You could feel yourself becoming almost mindless from the pleasure, your mouth still slightly open and writhing in his hold. The angle almost made you suffocate from the intense pleasure, still scratching and digging your nails into his shoulder blades, to the point that if he wasn't just as numb from pleasure, he'd probably hiss in pain. His pace and thrusts were messy, sloppy and uncoordinated just like his moans. You were hoping you were doing a good job at holding back your moans.

He almost tried to speak some words, tried to tell you to stop digging your nails into his flesh, but he couldn’t find the words, and he honestly kind of liked the pain. It was a token of everything that was happening here, and he could tell that he would have some little marks in the morning, and he would be able to look at them and think of you every time he saw them.

He was trying to be quiet, and he was struggling to keep his control, and this whole situation felt so wrong, and yet it felt so good that he couldn’t stop to care about it. The only thing on his mind in the moment was you and the pleasure that he was feeling, and the sound of your voice was music to his ears, even if you were trying to be quiet.

"You.. can.. finish inside.." you found yourself almost panting out, your hips moving to almost pull him even deeper than he was. Desperately.

He almost wanted to say that he shouldn’t, even though he wanted to, he didn’t want to make a mess, he wanted to be polite, and he couldn’t risk anything. But when you panted that he could, he couldn’t get himself to stop. It was like someone gave him the command, and he wanted nothing else but to comply.

He could feel himself getting there just from your words, your movements and the sounds that were coming out of your mouth. It was almost like the rest of the world had faded away and you were the only thing he could see, the only thing he wanted to see. He was desperate for you, and he knew he was a hopeless case, even if he didn’t like to admit it to himself sometimes.

He could feel the pressure building, the heat coiling in the bottom of his stomach, the way his movements were getting more sloppy, more desperate. He couldn’t hold on for much longer, he was starting to get closer now, his breath coming in quick pants, as his own sounds were starting to slip from his throat, his pace quick and messy, his mind completely focused on you.

The pleasure building in your lower stomach was getting more taut, your hands tugging at his hair or digging your nails into his back. His hand reached up, pressing his thumb between your already parted lips and pressing down on your tongue; your sounds becoming a little more obnoxious as his thrusts got more sloppy and fast, "JJ... 'm close.." you managed to mumble around his digit breathlessly, half opening your eyes to gaze at him despite his face being buried into the spot where your shoulder and neck met.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, too focused on how to keep himself under control, how not to let something that might end up being too loud escape from him, to form any coherent thought. But when he heard you say that, he looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours. He could tell you were getting close, and just the thought of that made him feel even hotter and more eager. He panted against your skin, his breath hot and shaky as he tried to form words.

"Yeah.. come on, sweetheart…"

He tried to speak again, his voice barely above a whisper, his mouth next to your ear, as his hips stuttered a little, his pace still quick and desperate. It was getting harder and harder for him to keep his eyes open, to keep his voice down and not let it escape his lips. He wanted to hear you say more, he wanted to hear you say his name, he wanted to hear you say how much you wanted him, how good he made you feel. He wanted to hear anything and everything as long as it was in that tone.

You found yourself nodding at his shaky sentence, your face scrunched up in pleasure. Your brain was too focused on the myriad of sensations, his arm wrapped around your waist holding your lower back off the bed a little, his teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder every now and then when he tried to muffle his sounds, the pleasure from the fast pace, the thumb pressing down on your tongue or caressing your bottom lip. Everything JJ had to offer you, even for a limited time. "JJ.." you mumbled, wanting to say something more than his name but your brain was too fogged up to let out other words.

He held you close to him, even though he was so worked up he couldn’t think straight, holding you tightly against him as he continued to move, his head moving so his face was right next to yours, so he could speak to you in a low, almost gruff voice, his southern drawl slipping out even more now. His nose brushed against your cheek, his mouth now next to your ear.

"Come on, sweetheart.. come on, I want you to-" He almost couldn’t control the sound of his own voice, his pants getting heavier, and he cut himself off before he could say more.

He couldn’t think straight, the feeling of your skin against his, the way you were clenching around him, the sounds coming out of your mouth, everything was overwhelming, and he could feel his mind going blank from all the pleasure and pressure he was feeling. He didn’t care about holding back anymore, he didn’t care about anything else, all that he could think about was you, and your voice, and how badly he wanted to hear you say his name in that special way you always did when you were losing your mind.

You wanted to prolong it, but you had been close so many times already, reason why you asked him to change positions two times but you couldn't hold back anymore. You found your self mumbling his name as quietly as you could, feeling the pleasure wash over you and the knot in your lower stomach snap, leaving you almost breathless. Your body shook gently for a couple of times, your jaw slack, legs wrapped around his waist in a tight lock.

He almost couldn’t breathe when he heard you say his name like that, heard the sounds that were coming out of your mouth. It was like a song to his ears, the best sound he’s ever heard, and just the way you were clenching around him, he felt like he was starting to reach the edge. But the way you were shaking, he was so overwhelmed, hearing you say his name again and again, like a prayer.

"Yeah.. keep saying that, sweetheart, just like that..."

He felt like he could get addicted to that sound, that way you spoke, all breathless and quiet, like you were barely holding on, like you couldn’t get enough of him. Every time you said his name it was like you were giving him a little piece of you, a little piece that nobody else but him was allowed to have, and he wanted more of it, he wanted more of you, he wanted to feel you all around him. Like when he'd plunge in the ocean water and he could feel it surround him.

You didn't even notice you finished because it happened really fast and he wasn't there yet. You clutched to him still, your thighs spasming a little with every of his thrusts, your voice coming into small mewls and his name like he asked. You were tugging his hair, the other hand splayed across his shoulder blade, clenching around him as if urging him to finish.

He couldn’t stop panting, he was holding you so tight against him, he could feel you clutching on to him, and he knew you were gone, but he was still chasing his own feeling of release, panting into your ear, he could feel yourself clenching around him and your fingers in his hair and he never wanted to forget this moment, he never wanted to stop feeling this feeling, and hearing how his name left your mouth, knowing he did that to you, it was so good he never wanted it to end.

He couldn’t tell if you were saying all his name because he told you to or because you were just so worked up, but he couldn’t tell if it mattered anyway, he couldn’t get his mind to wrap around anything that didn’t have to do with you and the feeling of you clenching around him and how wet and warm you were.

"Yeah.. come on, ‘m close, ‘m so close.." He could feel the knot in his stomach coiling, the heat and pressure in his lower growing hotter and hotter with each thrust.

"Come on JJ... i want you to finish.." You urged in a breathless murmur, the air in your lungs momentarily stolen as his hips shifted and the tip of his cock kissed your cervix so sweetly. Every subtle movement sent ripples of delightful overstimulation through your body—a sensation so intense yet perfectly pleasurable.

He couldn’t respond for a moment, his breath coming in ragged pants, it was getting harder and harder to form any sentences, even thoughts. But he could hear you speaking to him, and it was like his body was completely under your control, his arms tightening around you even more as he kept his face by yours.

"Yeah, yeah, sweetheart I swear, I’m- I’m almost there, I'm…" He cut himself off when a quiet moan almost escaped from his lips, almost too late, his head dropping to the crook of your neck instead.

He was so close, he was almost losing his mind, he was practically holding you against him like a lifeline, needing to feel you as close as he could get you. His movements were getting sloppy and jerky, his breath coming in quick pants, he was hanging on to you as if he couldn’t function otherwise, and the thought of that only made it better for some reason.

"Yeah.. ‘m close.. 'm.. I..” He couldn’t form words anymore, he was so overwhelmed, so desperate to finish and his arm wrapped around your middle like a vice.

He wasn’t sure if he actually finished, he wasn’t sure what happened, the whole world went a little fuzzy for a moment. All he could feel was you against him, all he could hear were the sounds you were making, and then the aftermath. His breathing was heavy, labored and shaky, and his body was completely pressed up against yours, his face still pressed against your neck. He didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to let go, he just wanted to stay like this forever if he could.

As soon as you heard the incoherent sounds from his lips followed by that one specific sound that would have you drenched and horny instantly, you knew he finished. You slumped your head on the pillow, lips parted as you panted, your thighs still spasming a little from overstimulation, your eyes closed as you tried to catch your breath. You were still wrapped around him inside and outside, your arms and legs hanging around him loosely now.

He couldn’t move, he just wanted to stay like this, keep you close to him. He was panting against your skin, trying to catch his breath, and he was completely spent. He could feel his breathing shudder as he tried to calm down, and he couldn’t stop himself from placing a small kiss against your neck, an almost instinct, as if needing to be close to you again, needing a small moment to ground himself again.

"God… damn it..” He mumbled against your skin, his voice hoarse.

He tried to lift his head up a little, looking at your face, your closed eyes and parted lips, he could see your expression, he could see how out of breath and overwhelmed you looked. It made his chest fill up with an almost primal satisfaction knowing he did that to you, that he was the reason you looked like that.

"You good..?” He asks after a moment, his voice still shaking a little, he just wanted to make sure you were alright.

"Yeah, 'm good.. just a little... out of it." you mumbled, taking a deep breath, your eyes fluttering open to gaze into his.

He nodded, taking a deep breath himself. "Yeah, same." He chuckled a little, running a hand over his face, and looking down at you.

"Damn.. we made a mess."

He let out a low chuckle as his eyes roamed over the sheets and between your bodies, the evidence of their activities staining the sheets and dripping down the inside of your thighs. He couldn’t help but smile a little, he liked making a mess of you, and his satisfied, almost cocky smirk was on display on his face as he looked back at you.

You glanced back down at your self and then back at him, raising your brows with a small smile, "yeah.. think i need to change the sheets tomorrow.."

JJ let out another small chuckle at that, resting his chin on your shoulder, still keeping his body close to yours, he didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to let go of you quite yet.

"Yeah, maybe you should. Wouldn’t want anyone to know what a dirty girl you can be, hm?" He teased lightly, a smirk on his face as raised his eyebrows at you

"I just think if anyone heard anything they'll know.. which is—scary." you sighed softly, bringing a shaky hand to rub over your face.

He hummed in agreement, resting his chin against your shoulder as his own hands started to rub small circles against the your back. "That’d be bad. What would everyone think if they knew you were letting a pogue like me in your bed in the middle of the night all the time?" He teased lightly, a small cheeky smile on his face.

"I don't think I'm supposed to let anyone in my bed, pogue or not..." you half teased back, the other half dripping with seriousness.

He was silent for a moment as you said that, his hand paused from where it was rubbing against your back, and the smile on his face faded as he thought about your words. He’d be lying if he said he never felt guilty about the whole situation.

"Right. Guess you’re a bad girl after all then, huh?" He said teasingly, his hand resuming the soothing circles on your back.

His mind was wandering, thinking about the whole situation and how screwed up it was. He knew you weren’t really supposed to be doing this, that you were off limits, he knew that you had a boyfriend who you were meant to be with instead of him. But despite all that, he couldn’t help himself whenever he was around you, he never could.

So, here he was again, in your bed, tangled up with you like that was where he was supposed to be. Like he actually belonged here.

But he didn’t, it was a shitty situation, and it was shitty of him to keep taking advantage of you like this when he knew you were supposed to be with someone else. The thought of you being with someone else while he was the one in your bed, it made him feel sick.

He wrapped his arms around you a little tighter and pulled you closer against him, as if trying to ignore the guilty thoughts in his head.

"Yeah given I'm bad at everything.." you chuckled bitterly after a few moments of silence, the reality of the situation setting in. But just like other times you pushed it down. You'd have time to wallow in your own self pity when you were with your boyfriend anyway.

He frowned at that, he hated hearing you talk about yourself like that, he hated how broken and bitter you sounded when you spoke about yourself.

"Hey, you’re not bad at everything..” He started, shifting his body so he was looking down at you. "I mean you’re really good at-” He cut himself off, his eyes trailing down your body for a moment before he cleared his throat.

"At having adulterous sex?" you smirked at him, finishing his sentence as he gazed down at you.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that, he did like when you were like this, witty and sarcastic. It reminded him of how you were when you were kids.

"Don’t say it like that, makes it sound less dirty” He grumbled, even as a part of him did like hearing you say those kinds of things.

He hummed as he thought of other things you were good at, moving to lay on his back next to you, pulling you over so you were laid out on top of him, as he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin against the top of your head.

"You’re good at being smart, you’re good at being funny, you’re good at.. I dunno, a lotta things. You’re not bad at everything” He shrugged, his hands running over the smoothness of your back

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm having adulterous sex with the guy i tell my boyfriend not to worry about.." you narrowed your eyes teasingly, the smirk still there. You rubbed your hand on your face again, brushing back the strands of hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks, the feeling irritating you a little bit now.

He was silent for a moment, his arms were still around you, still holding you against him, but his hands stopped moving over your skin.

"You tell him that?" He asked eventually, his tone a little more serious than before, but there was a hint of a smirk, like he knew the answer to that question already. He did. He knew your boyfriend didn’t know about the two of you. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

"Yeah... he seems to think we're prone to sleeping with each other since we're childhood best friends. What a ridiculous dumbass, right? as if that could happen.." you chuckled, shaking your head at your own sardonic words.

His chest panged a little at that, listening to you say that, like you were lying to yourself. He wanted to call you out on that, point out the fact that what your boyfriend thought was completely true, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, it would be just repeating the obvious.

"Yeah.. he is a bit of an idiot, isn’t he?” He quipped instead, playing along with your words.

He kept his arms wrapped around you, his hand still rubbing up and down your back unconsciously. He was quiet, silent as he thought. God, your boyfriend really was an idiot, he was so lucky you hadn’t told him and yet your boyfriend was still too stupid to even see what was right in front of him.

That thought made him tighten his arms around you, holding you a little closer against him. He didn’t want to let go of you, he wanted you staying on top of him like that, he wanted you in his arms and tangled up with him. He didn’t want to think about the fact that you weren’t his, that you were supposed to be with someone else, with a pogue hating, money chasing tool and not him.

He hated the situation you were both in, he wished things were different.

"You staying here or going home?" you asked after a few moments of silence, your hands carding through his hair to distract yourself.

He closed his eyes and hummed a little, melting into the feeling of your hands carding through his hair. He was quiet as he thought about your question. Truth is he didn’t want to go home, he wanted to stay with you and never leave. But that wasn’t possible.

“I don’t know” He mumbled after a moment, opening his eyes to look at you. “Why, you tryin’ to kick me out or somethin?”

He closed his eyes and hummed a little, melting into the feeling of your hands carding through his hair. He was quiet as he thought about your question. Truth is he didn’t want to go home, he wanted to stay with you and never leave. But that wasn’t possible.

“I don’t know” He mumbled after a moment, opening his eyes to look at you. “Why, you tryin’ to kick me out or somethin?”

"No. If you were to argue with me about something stupid like usual, maybe." you responded bluntly, furrowing your brows to yourself.

He chuckled at that, a small smirk on his face at your answer. He knew you were right, the two of you often did argue over stupid things. A part of him wanted to argue with you now, just for the sake of it, so he could stay.

“What about if I don’t argue.” He asked after a moment, his hands still running up and down your back. “What if I’m on my best behaviour?”

"Then i guess you could stay." you muttered, you wanted to add that he should leave in the morning, through the window still but you fought against it. That would be cruel, and it wasn't like he didn't know that.

He could tell you held yourself back from saying that part, he could tell that you wanted to be cruel to him, for him to leave. And hell, maybe he deserved that, he definitely didn’t deserve you.

But he didn’t comment on that, instead, he just hummed in response. “Fine, I’ll stay. As long as I’m allowed to be the big spoon” He teased lightly, giving you a smirk He shifted on the bed a little until he was in his desired position, with you pulled against him, your back press up against his torso, his arms wrapped around your waist, and his chin resting on your shoulder, his face buried in your hair, inhaling your familiar scent.

Usually, JJ would be the kind of person who’d fall asleep almost as soon as he lay down, but right now, he felt wide awake. He didn’t want to waste any time with you and sleeping. It was selfish of him, but it didn’t matter.

He nuzzled his face against your neck, his lips lightly brushing against your skin as he hummed a little, burying his face against the crook of your neck.

You shifted as soon as he spooned you, his chest pressing against your back. Which was kinda sweaty and sticky, but so was he. You let your eyes flutter closed, not sleeping yet but just having your eyes closed. You pulled your messy duvet over you, noting that you'd have to probably change the entire bedding, with how sweaty and sticky you both were. A small part of you said no, of course. It would be nice to have the sheets smell like JJ after he left in the morning.

He made himself comfortable against you, snuggling deeper into the crook of your neck and letting one of his hands move from your waist to splay out over your stomach as he held you.

He could smell a faint hint of your perfume through the usual sweat and sex, but he didn’t mind it, he actually kind of liked it, he liked smelling you, it felt familiar, like home in a way. If he had one. He let out a grumble as he pressed a light kiss against your shoulder, shifting a little behind you so he could pull you even closer.

His eyes closed as he breathed you in, a sort of content expression on his face as he relished the feeling of you against him. He hadn’t felt so relaxed or comfortable in a long time, he could almost pretend that things were different, that the two of you were something different, something more. But that was a dangerous thought to have, and he tried to push it from his head.

He couldn’t help but think of other times like this, when he used to sneak into your childhood bedroom late at night and stay over instead of sleeping at his own shitty house.

He hummed as he thought about that, his hand slowly tracing patterns against your stomach as he let himself think about the past for a moment. He remembered one time in particular, when there had been a big storm and he was too scared to go home drenched, with his dad still angry from the previous fight. So, he snuck over to your house, climbed through your window and spent the night. You’d both snuggled up against each other, him holding you, just like he was right now. It was a memory he often revisited, thinking about how much had changed since then.

He knew things were different now, he wasn’t staying over because he was scared of a storm or his dad, he wasn’t a kid anymore. And neither were you. So much had changed. And yet, at the same time, nothing had changed at all. He was still staying over at your house and crawling through your window. He was still snuggled up against you, the two of you still tangled up together.

He just wished things were different. He shouldn’t still be sneaking over to stay with you, he should be your boyfriend, it should be his bed you were sharing.

"Can't fall asleep..?" you asked gently, noticing he was shifting and writhing a little, instead of being knocked out cold, like he usually was when you both did this.

He looked a little startled by the sound of your voice, he hadn’t expected you to talk, he’d just assumed you were asleep. When he realized that you were asking a question though, he grunted a little in response, his chin resting on your shoulder as he cuddled you against him. “Nah, I’m a bit… wired” He admitted

"You were plastered when you got here like an hour ago.." you mumbled. You had thought he would be wasted and fall asleep instantly, especially also fucking for almost an entire hour. So his words were a bit shocking.

He felt his face grow a little red at the mention of that, he’d been so drunk then, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he fell asleep as soon as he got comfortable. But now he was surprisingly wide awake, he couldn’t explain it, he just felt a bit restless. His hands gripped your waist a little tighter as he grunted a little in response to what you said.

“I dunno why I’m still awake” He mumbled even though he knew why. Guilt kept most people awake.

His eyes fixed on his own fingers, the movement of his hands as he traced lazy circles against your bare stomach. Part of him itched for a joint, he felt restless somehow, he was craving a bit of a distraction, something to take the edge off. He usually didn’t get like this, but then again, usually it was a lot easier for him to fall asleep, especially when he was with you like this. But right now, he just felt a kind of tension running through him, and he wasn’t sure how to get rid of it.

He shifted a little again, one of his legs tangling between yours. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like that he couldn’t get his mind to calm down. He thought about the joint again, that should help, it would make it easier for him to relax.

“I’m thinking, I’d like a joint right about now” He mused quietly, his voice a deep grumble against your skin as he spoke, his fingers still tracing circles against your stomach

"Yeah a joint would absolutely slap right now.." you nodded weakly at his words. A joint would help tame the guilt and the constricting feeling in your chest and stomach. That feeling faded when you had sex but now it was creeping back in. Out with the mind numbing orgasm and in with the self hatred. So weed it was, "think i have some weed hidden around here somewhere," you muttered once again.

“Damn, you got some good stuff hidden in here? You’ll have to show me where you store it” He chuckled, his fingers still tracing lazy shapes against your skin. He liked the idea of a joint, maybe it would mellow him out a bit, help him fall asleep, at least he hoped so.

He hadn’t been able to stop dwelling on the past and how much had changed and just how much he shouldn’t be here in your bed. The best way, of course, was to forget for a bit. Usual JJ coping mechanism.

He nuzzled his face against your shoulder again, his nose nuzzling against your exposed skin as he breathed in your scent. He knew it was stupid and risky being in here in your bed, he didn’t want to think about that. All he wanted to do right now was distract himself from the feelings and thoughts bouncing around his head.

He didn’t want to think about how things were different, how he should be your boyfriend, how he should be here with you and it not be a secret in the middle of the night.

"Dunno if it's good enough for you. Given you smoke weed like 4/20 is every day but—" you trailed off, your voice trailing into uncertainty as you slowly disentangled yourself from him. You moved with a hesitant grace, your body still humming with the residual heat of intimacy, and settled on the edge of the bed. With a careful hand, you gathered your t-shirt and underwear scattered on the floor. His shirt lay next to yours—a silent invitation you longed to accept, though you resisted the urge, not wanting to blur the lines of an already delicate boundary. It was already too intimate as it was.

You slipped into your own clothes—the familiar fabric grounding you—and, with a final reluctant glance at the space between you, you slid off the bed. Each step toward the dresser felt weighted with unspoken tension. Kneeling before it, you opened the bottom drawer and sifted through its contents until your fingers closed around a small tin box. Clutching it, you made your way back to the bed, sitting beside him.

He almost pouted in response to you untangling yourself from him, but he didn’t say anything, only watched you as you got off the bed, pulling a t-shirt and panties on, a small part of him wishing he could’ve seen you naked for longer.

He sat up in the bed, crossing his legs and resting his chin on one of his hands as he watched you kneel before the dresser, searching through it as you grabbed something from the bottom drawer. He couldn’t help but admire your ass a little as you knelt down. He had to.

He watched closely as you walked back to the bed, a small smile on his face as he looked at the tin box in your hands, guessing what was in it. He uncrossed his legs and patted the spot beside him, gesturing for you to sit by him and share what you found together

The small tin box was opened and JJ’s eyes immediately fell on the pre-rolled joint and half pack of Marlboro’s stashed away inside. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, he hadn’t fully expected you to have anything besides the joint, and he found himself impressed by your stash. It was also a bit of a surprise to see the pack of Marlboro’s in there, he knew you smoked regular cigarettes, but he didn’t think you’d have them stashed away with your weed.

He hummed and picked up the joint from inside the box, his fingers playing with the paper for a moment before speaking, his eyes fixed on the joint in his hand. “How come you’ve got cigs in here?” He asked, picking up the half empty pack of Marlboro’s and giving them a little wave, before looking up at you

"Marlboro's are good to smoke with a joint.." you smiled lightly as he shook the red pack of cigarettes. "My other pack is hidden in my purse.. can't have them out and about.." how ironic. Smoking was a secret as much as screwing around with JJ was.

He chuckled a little in response, putting the pack back into the tin box and picking up the joint as he laid himself back down, propping himself up with a few pillows behind him so he could sit up a little.

“You wouldn’t want a big shot like your boyfriend to find out you smoke, huh?” He teased, the joint held between his fingers as he looked up at you with a smirk on his face

"He says it's not feminine to smoke," you scoffed, your tone a blend of amusement and something akin to disgust. Your hand slipped into the familiar tin box, fingers closing around the lighter as if it were a an extension of you. Leaning in, you hovered over him just long enough to ignite the joint that rested between his lips—a delicate, intimate act that blurred the lines between challenge and tenderness. The flicker of the flame danced across his features, making his eyes sparkle and his features more sharper and breathtaking.

He chuckled around the joint as he took his first inhale, his lips closing around the tip of the joint as he inhaled the smoke, letting his tongue dart out to brush against the side of it as he finished taking a hit

“He sounds like a real prize” He teased as he took another quick inhale and let the smoke out, his eyes going to you as he passed the joint over to you with a smirk on his face.

You watched intently as he took the first drag, another amused scoff leaving your lips at his words, taking the joint from him eagerly. You brought it to your lips taking a long drag and holding the smoke in your lungs for a good moment before exhaling it. "Yeah you could say that.."

He watched you as you smoked, his eyelids lowered in a sort of lazy, half-lidded look. His eyes were fixed on the way your lips curved against the joint, how you took the hit, the way you exhaled. He knew it was wrong for him to even look at you like this. He knew how dangerous all of this was. And he hated it.

"Why do you even put up with him?" He asked, picking up the box and taking out a Marlboro for himself, his eyes still fixed on you

He lit the cigarette, putting the still burning joint on the ashtray you had handed him and placed between the 2 of you. He didn’t smoke cigarettes often, they weren’t really his preference. But it helped dull his frustration for the time being, so he wasn’t complaining.

"He isn’t the best guy in the world, so why do you bother staying with him?" He asked, looking straight at you this time, his eyes studying your face, searching for any sign of what you were truly thinking

"It's not a matter of if he's the best guy or not.." you grimaced almost imperceptibly, laying on your back next to him, a small distance between the 2 of you for the ash tray. You grabbed a cigarette before placing the tin box on your night stand, keeping the pack of cigarettes in your lap.

"Well, what is it then. Is it the money? I know his Daddy is swimming in it." He said, taking another drag of his cigarette. The bitterness was clear in his voice, though he tried to hide it. He was jealous of your boyfriend. He was jealous of the fact that he had everything that JJ didn’t, and more. He had money, a good, proper family, decent behavior. JJ had none of that.

"Technically yeah.." you turned to side glance at him as you took a drag of your own cigarette, already feeling a bit dizzy when the nicotine and weed mixed together.

He couldn’t help the scoff that came from him at your response. It stung, it stung to know that you were staying with a douchebag because he had money. That you stayed with someone you didn’t actually like because you preferred the money he threw at you. It stung. JJ didn’t understand why though, he wouldn’t admit it, but it hurt. “So you stay with that tool for the money. You don’t actually love him?”

"God no.. Riley's good company.. sometimes. But I'm not after his money or company..." you grimaced again, tapping the cigarette gently to ash it. Your words felt a bit horrible if you thought about them. Given you were dating your boyfriend for almost 2 years now.

JJ couldn’t help the twinge of anger he felt. You were with a guy for 2 years, spending time with him, going on dates, probably doing other stuff as well, but you didn’t even like him. You just liked the money he had. While here he was, stuck with nothing and nobody. The anger was starting to become bitter resentment.

"So… what’re you with him for then? If you don’t care about the money or him?

"Cause... you know my parents.. they're really old friends with his.. and i guess it gives them a reason to combine their richness.." your frown deepened too as you spoke, taking another drag of the cigarette.

He could see your frown forming as you spoke, the words spilling out of your mouth. He hated it. Hated your parents, hated your relationship with your rich boyfriend, how you were so content with the shitty situation.

"So, you’re basically a trophy. A toy for your parents to show off" His words sounded harsher than he’d originally intended

Although technically it was kind of true you didn't like the wording of that fact. With the way they were planning on marrying you off this dude was kind of like melting 2 trophies together to create a big pile of gold. You opened your mouth to speak closing it again glaring at him slightly, "it's not that simple.. you don't even know the whole situation."

He almost bristled at your answer, his jaw clenching in frustration. You were right, he didn’t know the whole situation. And that was exactly his problem. He didn’t know why you stayed with your boyfriend, why you didn’t want to tell your parents to go screw themselves. Why couldn’t you just break up and be with him instead. JJ let out an angry exhale, another bitter scoff leaving his mouth

"Then why don’t you tell me then, princess?"

"Cause it doesn't matter, okay?" you grimaced once again, looking forward as you took another long drag from your cigarette.

He was even more pissed now, his irritation building more and more with each vague answer you gave him. He really hated when you did this. When you answered a question with a vague ass answer that left more questions than it gave answers. He stubbed his cigarette into the ash tray with more force than was necessary. He wasn’t going to keep being left in the dark by you. That wasn’t going to happen

"Bullshit it doesn’t matter! Why won’t you tell me?"

"Cause i thought this was supposed to be casual... we would fuck and then, i dunno.." god, you sounded like an asshole. Of course it wasn't casual, neither of you believed it, especially with your friendship looming over the whole ordeal like a big green monster. It made things more tangled than they would've been if JJ was a mere stranger. You like to pretend you weren't yourself when these things would happen, because you felt like another person. And yet you couldn't understand why JJ was here, putting up with your bullshit and vague answers.

He was even more hurt now, hearing you talk about your ‘relationship’ like it was nothing. He bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything he knew he’d regret, he couldn’t get caught up in the shitty emotions he was feeling, he couldn’t get attached, he couldn’t do that to himself. He knew it wasn’t going anywhere, you’d made that clear. But that didn’t make it better. "So… this is nothing then." His voice was flat, the familiar bitter undertone of resentment in it.

"No... no, it's not nothing. But explaining isn't gonna help us okay? It never does.." you mumbled the last part, your anger turning into something akin to bitterness, mixed with the guilt of the whole situation, still holding the cigarette between your fingers.

He gritted his teeth, trying to stop himself from yelling. He knew arguing didn’t get either of you anywhere, but right now he was fed up, he was annoyed, he wanted answers, something, anything.

"I’m tired of you always giving me these vague ass answers. I’m tired of you just expecting me to accept whatever you give me because you know I’ll take it anyway."

"No, because if I explain the whole situation, you'll just try to find a way out of it—even when there isn't one. I know because I've tried, okay?" you spoke bitterly, your words laced with a simmering frustration that threatened to boil over. Irritation flared up once again, a familiar heat rising in your chest. With a sharp exhale, you stubbed out the cigarette into the ashtray, the smoldering ember crushed under your fingertips. The scent of smoke lingered in the air, a hazy veil that matched the tension thickening between you.

Sitting up a little straighter, you squared your shoulders, a silent declaration of your resolve even with your eyes glazed over by the remnants of the orgasm and the weed.

The silence that followed was palpable, broken only by the distant hum of cicadas outside and the ticking of your bedside clock that seemed to mock the passing time. You could feel his eyes on you, searching for cracks in your armor, but you refused to meet his gaze. The weight of unspoken words pressed down on you, each one a stone added to the burden you carried.

A knot tightened in your stomach as you wrestled with the myriad of emotions swirling within—frustration, hurt, a flicker of hope quickly extinguished by reality. The walls felt closer now, the room smaller, as if the very space conspired to force a confrontation you weren't ready to have. One that always ended up happening anyway.

He couldn’t keep the anger and bitterness from pouring into his voice now, he was too riled up for that.

"God, why do you always do this?! Just always assume that I’m gonna try something. What do you think I’m gonna do, hm? Find out the reason and then what? Try to find a way to get out of it? Try to win you over from your rich boy? Why do you think I’d do that?"

He stood now too, facing you head-on, frustrated and upset. He didn’t like how you just thought he was gonna try and sabotage your current relationship. He couldn’t help himself, he was too frustrated, and now his irritation was starting to manifest itself into anger.

"Do you honestly think I care that much about you dating some rich douche bag that I’d try and steal you away from him?"

"Then why do you wanna know the reasoning? what does it help you with?" you were hurt at his words. Of course, you were. It already wasn't easy for you and somehow JJ made it harder. He always did. You knew he was in the same place as you emotionally, but he just hid behind this stingy persona that some how hardened any soft emotion you had. So for the time being you'd bite back if that's what he wanted. You'd get to wallow about it later.

His expression softened momentarily in surprise at your response before hardening again almost immediately. He didn’t want to feel bad for you, and yet he did. He felt bad for you because he knew you were in that shitty, uncomfortable situation, because deep down he knew you didn’t actually want to be with your rich prick boyfriend.

"Because it��s infuriating to just be left in the dark all the time. Just to be forced into something I don’t know the context of"

"Hellooo..." you dragged out the word almost mockingly, "you knew the context of this situation. When we started this bullshit the context was pretty clear. 'We'd do it once' we said... and then we started making a habit out of it." you scoffed, crosing your legs under you as you sat straighter on the bed, "—and no one is forcing you.. it's not like I'm doing something you don't participate in.."

"God, you’re impossible. Do you honestly think I’d be here if I didn’t have some kind of feelings for you, huh? You think I’d keep coming back here every time, going along with this ‘arrangement’ as you so conveniently call it, if I didn’t?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to keep his voice level but it was becoming increasingly more difficult. The things you were saying were pissing him off. Greatly.

"That just makes it worse... feelings always complicate things. You think i don't care about any of this? shit, maybe if i was a heartless slut i wouldn't.." you mumbled chewing the inside of your cheek. It felt like your stomach constricted a little when he said he had feelings for you. It was relieving to hear you weren't the only one feeling something. But the hope stoked out because it was impossible and this wasn't a romance novel.

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat, almost scoffing at the fact that you thought feelings were what complicated things. Feelings were what made everything make sense to him. They explained why he kept letting himself into the shitty arrangement. Why he continued coming back when he knew it was breaking his heart.

"You think I care if things are complicated? If I didn’t feel anything, if I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t let you drag me deeper into this."

"You could at least be selfish. You usually are. So i don't understand why you don't think about yourself here? If i have to live this shitty life and feel like this, why do you have to too?" you stood up and walk over to him standing in front of him as he paced a little at the foot of your bed.

"I could say the same thing to you. Why do you let yourself live this shitty life? Why are you letting some rich douche control you, huh? If you don’t want to be in that shitty life, then why don’t you just change it?"

He was getting heated now, his voice rising as he spoke louder. And yet he didn’t care if this would wake up the rest of your family, he was too riled up to take that into consideration.

"Cause it's not that simple. None of this is. Out of the two of us you have the privilege to walk out and live your life like you wanna." you scoffed, shifting your irritated gaze to the side.

“Oh please. Don’t give me that bullshit. Out of the 2 of us, no matter what I still have it worse. So don’t even think about giving me that. I come from a shitty family with a shitstain of a father. I barely have enough money to keep myself afloat. At least you have the money to fall back on!”

He hated bringing up the money, but he was so sick of you acting like you had it worse than him. Like you were some sort of sad charity case when you had money and a family that actually gave a damn.

"That's not what i meant. I wasn't flaunting my money and family to you.. i know better than anyone the differences between us." you spoke, your voice softer this time. You felt bad suddenly, cause it was true—he did have it worse. Sometimes it made you wonder how something as beautiful as JJ got such a shitty deal in life. It was ridiculous how rotten and shitty you were, and you got such a pristine life while he was left with... whatever he could get.

He hated how soft your voice had gotten all of a sudden, making him immediately feel guilty for even bringing up the money. It wasn’t your fault his family was shittier than yours, and he felt like an ass for making you feel bad.

He stayed silent for a moment, looking down at the floor for a moment until he looked back up at you. Though his voice had lost the irritation from before and was replaced with something more bitter.

"You still didn’t answer my question. Why don’t you change your life then?"

"Cause it's not changeable okay? This shit runs deeper than any of this combined.." you gestured between the 2 of you, "sometimes i think cheating on my boyfriend is the best thing i can do for myself.." you mumbled bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest and gazing to your side again, at the ashtray with the barely touched joint on the bed.

When you mumbled that you thought cheating on your boyfriend was the best thing you could do for yourself, a scoff escaped his throat.

“That doesn’t make sense. How can cheating on him be the best thing when it’s something that’s tearing you up inside and making you hate yourself even more than I know you already do?”

"Cause at least it's something i wanna do. I wanna sleep with you. It's not like anyone is forcing me to be with you." you turned to him, furrowing your brows and letting a scoff of your own.

He didn’t know why, but something about the way you said that riled him up again. His body tensed and his face hardened into that expression he usually donned at the Boneyard when he saw something he didn’t like. That cold, emotionless facade that always had people pissing themselves when they saw it.

"Oh really, that’s why you cheat on your boyfriend, huh? Cuz you want to be with me. Because you want me this much. Right?”

You averted you gaze again, scowling to yourself. You weren't scared of him, hell you knew him since he was eating his boogers. You were just exhausted of arguing and falling into the same cycle. All of it because you couldn't stay friends when puberty hit. It was angering and sad.

"You never answer me when I ask that question. Whenever I ask if you actually want me, if you actually want what we have or if this is just a way to pass time. You always get silent or deflect. So, answer me for once. Do you want me? Do you want this?”

Maybe it was a bad idea to keep pushing, JJ already knew you wouldn’t answer but something inside him made him continue despite being a masochistic idiot.

"Do you think i'd be doing this if i didn't want you?. You think i use sex just to pass time?" you scoffed bitterly. You weren't surprised he thought that, after all you would act like a cruel bitch sometimes despite loving JJ more than you would ever admit to anyone, yourself included.

He couldn’t do anything other than scoff at your scoff as he ran his hand through his hair once more. Frustration coursing through his veins and his jaw clenched so tight he wouldn’t be surprised if his teeth cracked. He was tired of this. Having to ask you the same question and never getting an answer. Never knowing anything about what was going on in your head.

"You’re never direct with any of your answers, you always have to be vague or snarky. Can you blame me if I think that? You never actually tell me what you want from me.”

"I dunno okay? Sometimes i pray to God you just brush me off when i show up to your door drunk." you knitted your brows up in exhaustion. You knew, since your parents basically married you off to someone else, that you and JJ couldn't have anything. You convinced yourself that if he did casual hooking up with girls at parties, it would work in your case too. Spoiler alert: it was back firing more than you could handle.

Again, another vague response and once again, he felt his irritation spike. He clenched and unclenched his jaw as he felt the urge to scream from frustration, but instead, he just let out a scoff-like laugh.

"Of course, that’s your answer. ‘I dunno’, you never know.” He stepped towards you, narrowing his eyes at you. He didn’t care that his voice was borderline yelling and that it was a quiet summer night outside.

"You never know, no matter how many times I ask, you never know."

He got right in your face, closing whatever distance was between you two so that he was looking down directly into your eyes. He wanted you to look at him, to look him in the eyes and actually speak to him for once without any vague answers.

"What do you want me to do? You want me to just blow you off? Ignore you completely? Not answer your calls and not give you the time of day anymore? You want me to do that, huh?”

"Well if you don't like this.." you shrugged, raising your brows and fixing him with your gaze, although a small part of you hoped he would take the words back and maybe you'd go back to smoking the joint and cuddling until the morning when he had to leave.

He hated it when you did that, when you looked up at him with that expression, so emotionless and vague. But he wasn’t a complete moron, and he could see the hints of hope in your eyes, despite it being barely noticeable. He was tempted, he was so completely tempted to just drop this and go back to smoking and snuggling. He always was. “No, no, answer me. That’s all I’m asking for. Tell me what you want.”

"I want things to be different okay? that's all i wanted and I'll want until i die. Sounds dramatic but it sums up this whole situation." god, someone who finally asked what you wanted, the wrong person at that, because you had no reason. You wanted to keep him here with you, and have him do this, repeat the cycle. But if you were him you'd get fed up too. Hell. you'd probably not take the bullshit you gave him.

He let out a frustrated huff as he once again ran his hand through his hair, pulling a little at the ends. How in the hell was he supposed to respond to that? How was he supposed to react to the fact that you were unhappy and that it was something they both couldn’t change?

“You can’t say that and just leave it at that, we both know that there’s a million different outcomes for how things could be different.”

"You don't understand that it can't be. It just can't. It's not as easy as breaking up with my boyfriend and dating you. Although that's what i wanted from the start of this." you looked up at him, scrunching up your face in sort of desperate expression, whisper shouting at him.

JJ felt his insides twist and turn, his frustration only getting worse. You didn’t even have the faintest of ideas about how much he wished that were actually a viable option. How he wanted to be able to wake up in the same bed as you and not have to worry about sneaking out the window in the middle of the night so no one saw.

"Well, yeah. I do understand that, that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it? I get that it’s not easy to just break it off with him and start dating me."

He clenched his jaw as he looked away from you, a part of him still desperately wishing he could grab you and kiss you right here, right now, and pretend that everything was fine. But he couldn’t, especially now, and he knew it.

"It’s more than just ‘not easy’ it’s pretty much impossible. Or at least impossible to change right now, I mean we still got one more year before graduation, and we both know that your parents aren’t just gonna let you ditch college prep for a life with me.”

"It's not like I'm going to a college that i wanna go to..." you mumbled, scoffing bitterly.

"That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what you want, it’s what your parents want. And they don’t want some stupid pogue kid to ruin their perfect little college prep daughter’s future." he replied bitterly.

"Yeah it doesn't matter. It never does. It didn't matter when i told them i didn't want to date Riley and it won't when it comes to college or any other life plans. Because they have that all planned out. Hell, they probably planned my first kid already and I'm only 17." you turned your head back to him, scowling and raising your shoulders in a half shrug.

His heart ached at the expression on your face, you looked so damn miserable. So damn broken and defeated. But he knew that it was the truth. He had always known it, that your life would never be your own. That you’d be forced into the future your parents wanted for you, whether you liked it or not. And he knew there was nothing either of you could do about it.

"I know, princess. I know."

It was the pet name. That was his one big fatal flaw. Whenever he called you that he would instantly get this overwhelming need to protect you, hold you tight, and try and shield you from the rest of the damn world. And that was exactly what he did in that moment, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, holding you tight against him as if he could shield you from your shitty parent's influence.

You didn't hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck, despite the hostility and anger that was felt before the hug, your stomach doing a little flip at the softness in his eyes and the pet-name. A hug was probably some sort of mistake even if not directly, but you needed and he offered it and that's all you could get. So you'd gladly take it.

He held you close for several moments, letting himself savor the feeling of holding you again, relishing the feeling of running his hand through your hair and having you against his chest. Even if it was a mistake, he was happy to make it. Because all he wanted was to hold you, to hug and kiss and comfort you whenever he could. He just wished that things were different, that he didn’t have to be a little secret. But he was, and there was little he could do about that.

Eventually, he felt his will and self-control slowly but surely beginning to crumble. He shouldn’t be doing this, he knew that, but goddammit, he was only human. He was a pogue, it wasn’t as if he had endless supplies of self-discipline.

He gently pulled you back onto the bed and laid down with you, letting out a soft sigh as he continued to run his hands through your hair and hold you close, one hand trailing down your spine.

You let him guide you back to the bed, laying back down with him after placing the ashtray with the stubbed out cigarettes and the barely touched joint as he wrapped and slipped his hand under your shirt, tracing the outline of your spine, your face buried in his chest.

He couldn’t help the way his hand traced its way up and down your spine, gently trailing his fingers down the smooth skin and feeling the bumps of your vertebrae. It helped keep his mind occupied, it was a nice distraction from the feeling of wanting to give in to his emotions and kiss you and shower you in all the attention you deserved. But he was also finding it harder and harder to fight that feeling, especially as he felt the warmth of your body against his chest, the feeling of your breath fanning across his collarbone. It was making him want to pull you closer and just hold you forever.

He was losing the fight against himself, and he knew it. But it was too difficult, it was too difficult to go this long without feeling you or holding you close. He just missed you, he missed you so incredibly much. And he hadn’t noticed that he was slowly starting to pull you even closer, almost as if he was pulling you on top of him. And he wasn’t even aware of the fact that his lips were gently trailing across your forehead, as if he was subconsciously craving the feeling of having you so close.

It always surprised you how gentle JJ could be, not only after arguments or sex. Just generally, and you were probably the only person who could say that and mean it. He just was. And it broke your heart a little every time he held and touched you like you were some kind of porcelain doll he treasured and wanted to gaze at. You knew that he'd be such a great boyfriend if you both had it differently. He would. A small part of you, the one that wasn't as selfish as the bigger one, hoped he'd find someone and ditch this situation you both kept sinking further down in. You'd just have to marry some man you didn't love and before you'd realized it you had became an alcoholic living in a shitty suburban home with a husband who cheated as much as you did. Although you wouldn't see Riley doing that, and he probably hadn't done it in the time you had been "dating."

JJ's hand continued its gentle tracing up and down your back, his touch was always strangely sweet and gentle. As if you were the most precious thing in the world to him, as if he couldn’t bear to hurt you. As if he was trying to savor these little moments of being able to touch you, to have you close, as if these little moments would suddenly disappear and never come again. Which, technically speaking, could happen. Anything was possible.

"Why do you do this to yourself..?" you asked quietly, playing with the small shark tooth necklace around his neck, your brows furrowed as you studied it.

JJ was taken off guard by the question, not expecting it. Why did he do this to himself? Because he was a stupid, selfish addict is why. An addict for you, at the very least. Despite knowing that this was all just some terrible mistake, he craved you so badly, that he couldn’t stop himself from giving in time and time again. So in a way, he was doing this to himself, he was the one getting himself into these stupid situations.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled, not knowing what else he was supposed to say.

He leaned forward and rested his chin on top of your head, letting out a soft hum as his eyes fluttered shut. He was still holding you incredibly close, his arms wrapped tight around your waist, almost as if he was terrified that this would all slip through his fingers and you would be gone when he'd open his eyes.

“Why do you let me do this to myself?” He mumbled, trying to turn the question back on you.

"Because I'm selfish.. duh." you mumbled, wrapping one arm around his neck and resting it on his shoulder, a small bitter scoff leaving your mouth.

“Oh, I know that princess, I know that real damn well.” He hummed sarcastically, one hand slowly trailing up and down your bare back under your shirt.

“But why? You could easily find someone else, hell you could do a lot better than me.”

"You think i'd do this with someone else..? i take mindless sex in stride already." you chuckled dryly at his statement, of course he'd say that. He always did. In different words but essentially the same essence. And the truth was you were honest, if you did sleep with your boyfriend it would mindless and meaningless. You'd just rather get your self off instead of sleep with him. At least you'd come. "the same goes for you.. i think you could easily find someone less complicated and with less baggage."

He chuckled softly, his hand continuing to slowly move over your back, tracing up and down. “Yeah, of course I could. I’ve had people lining up and throwing themselves at me my whole life. I’ve just conveniently ignored every single one of them.”

He said bluntly, as if it was a ridiculous thing to think otherwise. Not that you didn’t already know him well enough to know that he wasn’t lying.

He let out a soft sigh as his hand stopped on your lower back, pressing you a little closer than you already were.

“I think… I think we’re both too screwed up to be with anyone else.” He mumbled, gently pressing his lips to your forehead.

"A masochist and a cruel bitch with an emotional baggage that could easily crush him into alcoholism.. picture perfect couple material." you mumbled letting out another bitter laugh. You were still mindlessly playing with his necklace, your eyes trained on the shiny shark-tooth, sparkling once in a while in the dim light of your room.

He couldn’t stop the half laugh half scoff that escaped his lips at that. You were right of course, the two of you combined were a recipe for disaster. He tried to picture you, as a couple going on dates and holding hands and being happy and all that. It made him want to throw up in his mouth a little, a sort of anxiety settled in his stomach at the thought.

The hand he was using to trace your back came up to gently grab your hand, stopping you from playing with the necklace “Don’t do that, you’re gonna get it tangled up.”

JJ didn’t like it when you played with the necklace, it made him uncomfortable, nervous, the thought of someone else’s hands touching it, messing with it, made him more than a little uncomfortable and he would do damn well to never admit it. “And it’s an ugly necklace anyway, why do you always play with it?” He said, trying to play it cool, hide the nervousness he felt.

"Lemme play with it." you mumbled, furrowing your brows stubbornly as you moved your head to gaze at him, "and it's not ugly.. where did you even get that?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking down at you with a slightly annoyed expression, you always were a stubborn girl, it drove him crazy sometimes.

“Don’t be so stubborn, I don’t want it to get messed up.”

He gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head back so that you were looking at him. To stop you from focusing on the necklace for a moment. “Someone gave it to me a long time ago, just don’t touch it."

"No-.. i meant where did you get the idea that it was ugly.." you sat up a little straighter to look at him curiously, "...but now you made me curious. Who's this person who gave it to you?"

He sighed. He really was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. The person who’d given it to him had to be a touchy subject, but he also knew you, and he knew that you wouldn’t let it rest until he told you who it was. As soon as he saw the look in your eyes, he knew you were going to keep bugging him until he told you, he just was too tired (and slightly drunk) to try and deny it anymore.

“Why do you want to know?”

"Just kinda curious is all.." you grimaced at how strange and secretive he was being, over a necklace which looked like it was bought from the souvenir shop on the highway reserved for tourons.

JJ huffed softly at your grimace, he knew his secrecy was going to seem suspicious. But at the same time, he also had a very good reason not to tell you who the necklace actually came from.

“..It was a friend. A long time ago.”

He mumbled, trying to keep his tone nonchalant, even and normal. But the way he was speaking, as if he was purposefully avoiding giving details was anything but normal and nonchalant.

JJ tensed up at the mention of her name, quickly becoming uncomfortable. He should’ve known you’d think it was Kiara, that the two of you were close, and it made sense.

“No. It wasn’t her.”

He mumbled, avoiding your eyes. His mind immediately going to the person who it really was, and the thought filled him with a feeling of anxiety. But it’s not like he could tell you the truth. "Why would think it was her?"

"—Cause Kiara looks at you like she's in love with you. And she is. And that's not a problem itself, if she wasn't hopping from John B to Pope and then realizing that the one she wants is you." you shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and his question was stupid. Because it was, you could tell by the way he stiffened under you slightly.

He didn’t really have a response to that. You were right, and he knew it. How was he supposed to say “yeah I know a girl is in love with me but I’m obsessed with a girl that’s in a relationship with someone else” without sounding like a scumbag?

He huffed again, turning his head and refusing to look at you. “..Why do you have to bring her up?”

"Cause it pisses me off how easily she got off the hook with it. She's my friend, yeah.. but it doesn't change the fact that she's a homie hopper and that in a way it made things awkward between all of us. Reason why i hang out with the group rarely now." your grimace turned into a scowl at your own words, your eyes directing it to your leg mindlessly.

JJ found himself grimacing again as you continued. You weren’t exactly wrong, in his eyes Kiara had pretty much gotten off the hook without a scratch. And he was too soft on her, not that she’d ever done anything to upset him personally, he understood why it annoyed you.

“..She’s just confused.. she doesn’t understand her own feelings.”

"Can you just.. not?" your scowl melted into a glare as you turned to glance at him, your voice low and uncomfortable.

He tensed again, his eyes narrowing at you as he met your glare. He felt slightly defensive suddenly, what the hell was your problem?

“How about you just not get pissy over every little thing you don’t like?”

"Oh, excuse me for getting pissy over your little Kie.." you scoffed incredulously at his words, voice dripping with sarcasm.

JJ clenched his jaw as you mocked Kiara’s nickname. Something about it struck a cord in him for some reason. He really shouldn’t care that you were making fun of a friend, but he did anyway and it was just pissing him off more. He rolled his eyes at you, his annoyance now fully directed towards you instead of just the topic of Kiara. “For god's sake why do you have to be so damn jealous all the time?”

"You call it jealousy, i call it being the only one in that group who's not head over heels in love with Kiara Carrera. For fuck's sake, you don't remember what she did to Pope, after also kissing John B? How was any of that normal? She slept with him knowing he was in love with her, and then decided to play the 'i wanna stay friends' card." the words came out before you could filter the resentment and bitterness out of them. It was stupid and it was more stupider JJ was being defensive of it. Showed you what kind of guy he was. Not that you were a better kind of girl inherently.

His expression darkened even more than before, his annoyance quickly turning to straight up anger. You were not gonna sit here and talk like that about Kiara, who was also one of his friends and had done nothing to you. Sure, she’d messed up, but everyone did sometimes. JJ knew that well enough. He didn’t bother trying to keep the venom out of his words as he spoke.

“You know what, you’re being a damn bitch. Yeah, Kiara made mistakes, but everyone does.”

You couldn't believe him, but then again you never could. So, it wasn't anything new that he was defending her to the heavens like that. You turned your head to the side, frowning and letting your eyes fall onto your window. You knew in a way, that if JJ was in love with her, that it would be better for him in a way. They had the perfect set-up for a friends-to-lovers thing. You and him were a shittier, much more toxic knockout version of the trope.

He clenched his jaw, his anger slowly growing. He noticed you looking out the window, avoiding his eyes, but he didn’t care. This stupid argument was starting to bother him enough to want to look your in the eyes and make you look back, but he also wasn’t gonna risk it turning into something more.. physical. He ran a hand over his face again, frustrated. “You know, maybe she is perfect for me. We’d probably make a hell of a lot more sense as a couple than whatever the hell you and I were.”

He immediately wanted to take the words back. It was a low-blow, and he knew it. He knew better than anyone just how hard it was to admit you and him would never be “officially” together. But he also couldn’t help it, you being a jealous idiot over Kiara of all people was infuriating and he was drunk enough to be angrier over it than he normally would be.

You felt the sting of the words like that one time when your mom slapped you when you were 14 for something stupid. Just like the slap, the words were fleeting and said out of anger, but what was worse was that they were, in fact true. You were thinking the same thing and he was voicing it out. You shouldn't care, not when you were such an asshole and dragging JJ into in your own pile of shit willingly. It still hurt you.

You tried to hide the sad frown that came over your face as soon as he said that by still avoiding his gaze. You weren't going to let him see your face, because with how emotionally drained and exhausted you were you'd just.. cry.

He immediately regretted saying it as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but once the words were there, they were impossible to take back. JJ felt his heart clench as he saw you try to hide your face from him, trying to make yourself seem unbothered. No matter how many times he saw it, he could always tell though. A part of him wanted to apologize, just apologize and tell you he didn’t mean it. But he didn’t.

He let the silence settle over both of you for a few moments more, not knowing what to say.

He sat silently for a few more long, drawn out moments before he spoke again. He knew he shouldn’t say it, but something in him felt like he needed to.

“I mean it, y’know. Kiara would be more of a proper girlfriend than you could ever be.. I wouldn't have to worry about her sneaking off to cheat on me.” He tried to sound convinced, but the words sounded half-hearted to his own ears.

Once he spoke the words, the reality of what he had just said settled in. His heart squeezed painfully, but he pushed the feeling aside and continued trying to convince himself.

“Hell, she’s probably better for me anyway. Doesn’t put me on edge like you do.. wouldn’t just disappear at the mention of her parents or your boyfriend..” He stopped himself, the words coming out in a quiet, bitter scoff. It shouldn’t sting to say, not when you were basically nothing to each other.

Of course he would say that. You knew he believed it, and in moments like these you didn't know why he was putting up with you then. If he wanted he'd probably get sex from her too. It wasn't like it was hard. So then why did JJ hang around you? It was always your biggest question, given you had your answer to it.

Your frown deepened even more, your lip sticking out a little, now that you were actually suppressing the urge to actually cry. It wasn't like that was the cruelest thing he said to you, but it was cruel enough to slowly set you off the edge into a free fall basically. You just were so angry and frustrated at everything and sometimes your body thought crying was what was best for it. You still didn't cry but you were damn near it.

Seeing your expression twisted painfully in his stomach again, but it wasn’t like he didn’t mean it. He knew things between you weren’t going anywhere, and yet he kept going back on you like a fool. So why didn’t he just admit it to himself, that you were both just playing with fire with these meetings?

He was just drunk and angry enough to keep going, to keep feeding the fire.

“She’s probably not even gonna go off to some fancy college and leave me behind, like you are..”

A pang of guilt flashed through him again after saying the words, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was the truth, after all. He wasn’t stupid. You were going to eventually go off to college and ditch all his stupid-ass friends and leave the life you had here behind. You had bigger things ahead of you, and you were definitely smart enough to achieve it. He was just some burnout loser who was probably gonna end up arrested or in an early grave.

By now you would've turned to him and told him to get the fuck out of your room and wherever he would sleep at, when he wasn't here or at John B's house. Screamed at him until he left through the window and then smoke the entire joint alone to cry yourself to sleep. But your mouth already felt watery, like when you'd hold tears and your stomach felt absolutely sick. A small sob escaped you and then it was like a match to a drizzle of gasoline. Your head dropped on top of your knees, your arms wrapped around it as you sobbed quietly. You knew it was dumb, and that he'd probably just get up and leave, too weirded out and not wanting to deal with it. You didn't know if that was good or not.

At the sound of you crying, all the fight that built up within JJ was suddenly gone.

Now that he did feel guilty. The sight of you made his heart clench in a way that felt almost physically painful, and he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. The last time he had seen you cry like that was when your dog died, and he knew it was usually only something like that that would reduce you to this.

But he was the one causing it this time.

He scooted closer to you, hesitating for a second before bringing an arm around your shoulders. It felt weird to do, and he knew you probably didn’t want him to. It reminded him of all those times when the two of you were kids, and he used to hold and comfort you after a nightmare or when you got hurt. How you would clutch his shirt and hide your face against him, knowing he would keep anything from hurting you.

He knew things weren’t the same anymore, but he still pulled you towards him either way..

He sat silently for a few moments, the sound of your quiet sobbing filling the room in a way that somehow made everything feel so wrong. He didn’t say anything, not really sure what to say. Part of him wanted to try and comfort you, tell you it was just a joke and it wasn’t actually true. But he knew that wasn’t the issue, that it was the fact that he wasn’t wrong. And you knew that.

He clenched his jaw again, his own words replaying in his head again.

“M’ sorry.. I didn’t mean it..” He said the words quietly, his heart clenching once more at the sound of your sobbing. It hurt to be the cause of these tears, the one to make you crumble and fall apart in such a way. Not for the first time he wondered how he ended up here, how he could’ve managed to destroy the one thing he’d ever loved. Well, it wasn’t really destroyed, yet..

And you didn't care because it didn't change the fact that the words were as true as the sky was blue. That wasn't the main reason you were crying. You were angry. At yourself, at your parents at everything. At the fact that your friendship was ruined by lust and other factors and that you had lost your best friend to. The only one you had, if you were honest with yourself. And you didn't do that. Not when you knew you were madly in love with him, or when most of you resentment towards Kiara was because she was in fact, the better option and probably the only one.

You palms were covering your face, crying into them softly at everything that was gnawing away at you up until that moment, your body not even registering that he was now next to you, comforting you just like when you were both kids.

It was strange - the way being with you again, the way holding and comforting you in such an intimate way took him right back to your childhood days. Back to when he would hold and comfort you after a bad day or a nightmare, you clinging to him and him relishing the feel of your body against his.

Except now it was different. You didn’t hug onto him like you used to, you didn’t bury your face against him. You were no longer the little girl he used to look after, and he was no longer the boy who would fix all your problems.

He felt like he needed to say something, to say anything. But every time he went to say anything, the words got stuck in his throat. The sight of you like this, so torn apart and broken - it made his stomach twist in a way that felt almost painful, and his heart ached for you like it never had before.

He clenched his jaw again, hating himself, hating the situation. He suddenly understood how the saying “I’d rather watch you walk away than watch you hate or cry” came to be.

He felt like a fool for letting himself get into this mess. For letting himself fall for you the way he did, for letting himself get attached like an idiot. He knew better than that. People like him didn’t get the girl, they were never supposed to.

He thought about all the times as a child like this you had held onto him, the way he would do anything to make you happy again, and he wondered why he couldn’t do that now, why he was so unable to just do something to make it better..

It was still surprising to you that he was still there. He wasn't doing or saying much, but he could've left. Especially with the harsh words he said. It was weird, confusing and it always made your mind flood with questions that you knew you wouldn't get an answer to. Your sobs weren't loud or anything but you were still crying, your face hidden in your knees. The awkward side hug wasn't doing anything to soothe you, and in the back of your mind you were thinking how stupid you looked, breaking down over some words that were true, despite being said so harshly.

The sight of you crying against your knees, trying to hide yourself from him as if he had never seen you cry before, it made his chest ache once more. He had seen you cry hundreds of times before, in all kinds of situations and circumstances, but somehow, this one was hitting him especially hard. Seeing you broken and crying like this, and knowing it was all his fault, hurt more than any of his father’s drunken blows to his face or his ribs.

He clenched his jaw again, taking a breath to steady himself before he spoke.

“Stop cryin’ sweetheart, m’ sorry..”

He didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know what he could possibly say to make this better. Even the nickname slipped out before he could fully register it, reminding him of all those times he would use it to make you stop bawling as a child.

The sound of his voice made you actually raise your head to side glance at him, and by the look on his face you imagined how you looked. You furrowed your brows, as if questioning him about his words, your face going back to being buried in your knees, small hitched sobs escaping you from time to time as you cried.

The sight of you turning to look at him, your red puffy eyes meeting his own and making his chest clench, made him wonder if he had said something wrong. Should he repeat himself? Should he not say anything at all? He felt completely lost and stuck, like no matter what he did this situation could never be made better.

He hesitated for a moment before bringing up a hand to gently run through your hair, the same little thing he used to do all the time when you were little to soothe you.

He couldn’t help but recall those days when he used to sneak over in the later hours of the night, or the early hours of the morning. When you would cling to him like he was your lifeline, the only one keeping you from drowning, and sometimes he wondered if it was true. If he was the one keeping you afloat for so long.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, still running his hand through your hair. It was an attempt to give some sort of comfort to you as you cried..

The sobs died down after almost 10 more minutes of crying, raising your head to wipe the remnants of tears streaming down your face. Now that the tears had mellowed down, the sadness was replaced by a sense of shame at crying cause of some words that were said in an argument. That made you wonder how did you two let it get it so far and complicated. The sex, the arguments, the toxicity; it was all now defining your once beautiful childhood friendship. It felt like a joke, and a bad one at that. One that lacked a punchline or any humor.

You turned to look at him, still sniffling from time to time, "why are you still here?" you asked quietly, your voice a little broken and shaky still.

He took a breath, surprised at your question. He knew he probably should’ve left by now, it was clear you didn’t want him here anymore, and after what he had said he honestly wouldn’t blame you for it.

But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to leave you here on your own like this, not when you were still so upset and clearly broken up. He had never been able to leave you alone and crying, not even once.

“..I ain’t gonna leave you like this..”

He ran his hand through your hair again, his expression almost sad as he looked at you. It was as if he was studying you, taking in your appearance as if he thought he might never see you again.

His heart was aching again, hating how broken up you looked and knowing that he was the cause of it. He remembered all those times when you would smile, laugh, laugh at him or just be happy, and he couldn’t recall if he had seen you like that for him in months..

"Wow.. thanks." you mumbled sarcastically, taking a deep breath to calm down fully, the inhale still sounding shaky and broken up.

He tensed a bit at your sarcastic comment, sighing in slight irritation. After everything, you still had that attitude on you, the same one that got you into this whole damned mess.

“Really?”

His voice was almost snappy, clearly irritated at your sarcastic comment. He didn’t move his hand from your hair, as if trying to make up for his tone with the soothing action.

"Yeah.." you smiled slightly although it didn't reach your puffy eyes, as if you were pleased with how the comment had rubbed him.

Another scoff left his mouth at your tone, his irritation growing more. This was always how you were though, stubborn and quick to anger him. He hated it, even when he knew you most likely did it on purpose.

“God, when are you gonna learn to knock that attitude off?” His hand kept running through your hair, even as he spoke to you.

"I don't have an attitude.." you muttered, sighing in resignation when sensing he was getting irritated at you again. The thirst to argue had died down completely with the tears and you were left with a sense of sickness and sadness. Regret at all the things that led to this.

That sarcastic attitude of yours again. He gritted his teeth, knowing that you were just being stubborn again, but he was still determined to try and calm down himself as he spoke.

“Yes you do. Ever since middle school that damn attitude of yours had gotten worse and worse.” His voice had a bitter sort of tone, almost resenting you for it.

His hand stilled in your hair, trying to ignore the thoughts that came to mind. Memories of the two of you growing up together, the way you would follow him around when you were younger, always by his side no matter what. Now look at the two of you. Fighting constantly, and hating each other for the most part. Hell, he even hated himself for the things he said to you.

His hand moved from your hair to your chin, gently turning your face to the side so you’d be facing him. He studied your face, taking in every detail of it, committing every feature to memory for some reason he couldn’t quite grasp..

“How’d we even get here, huh? How’d it end up like this..?” His voice was quiet, with a sort of longing to it.

"I have no idea.." you shrugged, chewing the inside of your cheek as you mulled over his words. How exactly did you two get here? you'd never stop saying that it was almost ridiculous; having something so pretty reduced to something as stupid as lust and toxicity.

He shook his head slight in response to your shrug, feeling a sort of anger bubble up inside of him. It was always the same, the same damn situation, no matter what. But he couldn’t help himself, no matter how much he tried to stop it, he was always going to want you…

“..Don’t give me that. You know how we got here, you’re as much to blame as I am..”

"Didn't say i wasn't.. -think most of the blame goes to me if I'm being honest.." you spoke evenly, fidgeting with your rings mindlessly.

He watched as you fidgeted with your rings, the sight strangely familiar. It was something you always did when you were nervous. He had seen you fidget like this so many times, before exams, when you were worried about something, hell you even did it back when you had your first date.

He huffed in response to your statement, his eyes focused on your hands and their fiddling. “..Why you saying that?..”

"Dunno.. most of the bullshit in my life is from my stupid decisions.." you raised your eyes to lock them with his, brows raising at the same time.

His gaze snapped back to your face when you looked back at him, meeting your eyes, taking a moment to register what you said before answering.

“..I’ve made plenty stupid decisions myself, you know that. Don’t go putting all the blame on yourself now, you weren’t the only one involved here..”

He paused a moment, the realization settling in as he spoke again.

“..You’re being too hard on yourself..” His voice was almost gentle, that hint of irritation from before gone. He hated that you always had to take the blame for things, even when it wasn’t your fault. He knew that you were just worried all the time, that you had anxiety about everything, and that even when things weren’t entirely your fault, you’d still blame yourself.

The way the former comment sounded. 'Involved', like it was a past situation you weren't part of anymore, like this whole thing between you was ending. Or had ended already. And you remembered his words about Kiara being better for him and how'd they make a more healthier couple than whatever you had going on; and it kinda clicked in your head. Maybe this was the time where you'd finally stop being selfish and bring everyone in your situations, "So, what now?" you settled on asking, the question being the less loaded one out of your brain.

His eyes were still on yours as he studied you, sensing the shift in mood, seeing the realization come over your face.

His own gut squeezed, knowing exactly what you were alluding to. But he wouldn’t admit it, wouldn’t admit that it sounded a little too much like an “end”. He didn’t want to think about it like that, didn’t want to admit that he might be losing you for real..

He took a moment to answer your question, his voice still gentle. “..What do you mean..?”

He raised his hand to your face, softly brushing a piece of your hair out of your face and behind your ear. Part of him wanted to hold you tighter, pull you against his chest and never let go again. But the other part, the logical one, told him that this needed to end, that there was no point in keeping up a facade of some thing that was bound to fall apart regardless..

"You know what i mean.. you said some things that hinted at something and i wanna know what you're planning on doing from now on.." you sighed, looking at him with a mix of sadness and determination, your eyes raking over his face in the dim lighting of your room.

JJ looked away from you, his jaw tense. The sadness and determination in your eyes made his heart hurt, and he knew what you were hinting at. But he kept telling himself that it wasn’t like that, not really.

He was quiet for a second, trying to find the words, when suddenly he felt a wave of drunken honesty hit him.

“..It’s not like we can keep on doing this forever, you know...”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and for a moment he looked vulnerable, the cool nonchalance of before gone as he met your gaze again. His hand was still gently cupping your face, his thumb softly rubbing against your skin as a wave of emotions took over him.

“Eventually it’s gonna get too complicated, too messy. We’ll get caught, or you’re gonna stop looking for some stupid thrill to do when your boyfriend pisses you off and you remember you have a good ole boy toy waiting on the side..”

"This was never about the thrill of it.." you muttered, your face twisted into an almost offended look.

“Bullshit-“ He said it before he could stop himself, and he immediately regretted it as he watched your expression, but a part of him still couldn’t bite the words back.

“..C’mon, you tellin’ me that you’re sneaking out to be with me cause your in love with me and not cause you get some sort of thrill out of this?” He spoke in a sardonic tone.

He knew he was crossing a line, but the alcohol was still coursing through his veins and he couldn’t help himself.

“You’ve got a boyfriend that you already said you care for enough to consider marrying, hell you’ve got more than enough reasons to stop hooking up with me.”

He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself at this point, but the words just kept falling from his lips like earlier, like word vomit.

"I am not considering marrying him.. it's not up to me, and it doesn't matter who I'm in love with. Not to my parents anyway.." you shook your head in slight disbelief at his words.

It took a moment for your statement to sink in, the realization that your parents didn’t care who you actually cared for..

A pang of anger, or maybe jealousy, went through him at the thought, and he found himself pushing further.

“Exactly.. you don’t actually get to choose anyway, so why bother hooking up behind his back? Is it just some kind of stupid form of rebellion..”

"If i told you that i loved you and it wasn't some sort of rebellion what would you say?" you asked bluntly, too worked up now to stop saying the words you were trying to hold back for the sake of not making the situation more messier than it already was.

JJ’s eyes widened in surprise at your blunt question, part of him not expecting to actually get an admission from you. He was silent for a long moment, just looking at you, taking in the words you just said.

“..I’d say you’re lying to yourself,” he said quietly, his eyes holding a challenge in them as he refused to look away from you.

You shook your head chewing on the inside of your cheek, fixing him with your gaze silently. This was probably the only time in your life where you weren't lying to yourself. But it seemed like he didn't believe you. Or just didn't want to.

His jaw tensed slightly as he saw how genuine your expression was. He wanted to believe you, but for some reason part of him was still hesitant, still needed more.

“Say I actually believed you.. what would that change? You’ve still got a boyfriend, and your parents..” He stopped, his gaze hardening slightly.

"The way you think i look at this situation... i don't do it cause i get a kick out of it." you shrugged, a sense of desperation lingering in your voice.

JJ’s expression softened slightly, a pang of guilt going through him at the tone of your voice.

“..if it’s not because you’re getting off on it… then why do you do it, huh? Why do you keep going back to me if you don’t even love me?”

"That's what I'm trying to tell you... that's the reason why i keep coming back. But you obviously can't wrap your head around the fact that i actually care about you, as if we weren't friends for so long before this." your face contorted into the desperate expression even more, gesturing a little as you whispered at him.

JJ’s expression darkened at your statement, his body tensing up. He didn’t respond for a long, drawn out moment, still reeling from the words you had said.

“..bullshit. You don’t get to say that you care about me. We aren’t friends like we used to be, we’re.. something else entirely. And don’t even think for a second that I buy what you’re saying. Because you don’t actually care about me.”

"Okay then leave." you whispered softly, your expression hardening as he brushed off your admission and words, too exhausted to argue or scream at each other, especially since it was the early morning now. “Gladly.” He sneered, his expression dark as he pushed himself off the bed, moving towards the window after putting his clothes and shoes back on in a infuriated hurry. But before he left, he couldn’t stop himself from looking back at you one last time, his expression becoming almost soft and vulnerable again

“…You know that I care about you too.”

He said quietly, the confession slipping out before he climbed out the window. JJ made his way back to his house, the cold air biting his skin and sobering him up a little too much for his liking. But the night air couldn’t stop his mind from spinning, going over the words you had whispered to him, over and over like a broken record..

Bye lmao, i went thru like 3000 emotions while re-writing and editing this. Here's smut, i guess? this is the most angstiest smut ever written prolly. Let me know ur thoughts and if you want a part 2 to this one too. I promise summer was my first love is also getting another chapter.

Tag-list*:･ﾟ✧ @cali-888, @bee-43, @jjscoquette, @melsbels-zip, @stanseventeen

Divider credits:✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ @strangergraphics, @cafekitsune

[ferrstappen]

surprise! we are a family l dad!Lando Norris x reader

a/n:thank you so so much to the anon who requested this because... I'm never leaving this idea.

pairing: Lando Norris x female!reader

genre: fluff <3

summary: this wasn't planned. you are basically children yourselves and why isn't getting pregnant at 24 not considered teen pregnancy? Now Lando is waiting to meet his baby and hoping he doesn't mess up.

Lando never thought he'd find himself holding your hand in the middle of the night, fighting the nerves and anxiety of your baby coming too son, three weeks earlier than expected.

He wondered if this was his first taste of fatherhood... His leg bouncing up and down while checking the small screen monitoring the baby's heartbeat; he didn't understand a single thing, but it looked stable and it sounded healthy for his ears. Still, his stomach felt like an endless pit of worries while thinking the baby wasn't supposed to arrive now, it was supposed to be delivered via c-section in three more weeks, just like both you and him had planned.

He also couldn't stop thinking about the long road to this moment.

After finishing university, Lando asked you to travel with him for the remaining of the season which hadn't even reached the 9th date, but you agreed and traveled with your boyfriend with no worries, no homework, no lectures, just you and him, trying to be his emotional support after every race, the pair of familiar eyes during every press conference, the warm embrace after every interview.

You were always so focused on him and his well being that it took Lando more than a good couple of seconds to realize you were throwing up in the bathroom of your shared hotel room, door closed but not locked, so he waited until he heard the water running and the sound of you brushing your teeth.

He asked you what happened, you answered your stomach had been feeling funny for the last couple of days, but today you just couldn't take it. Lando insisted the cause was the seafood you had eaten yesterday at the restaurant.

He didn't even let you kiss him until you brushed your teeth, not wanting to go anywhere near the taste.

The other scenario never crossed his mind; you were always careful, rarely not using a condom even if you were on a contraceptive. You never had a pregnancy scare or anything, always secure on the fact you and Lando were safe.

Anyway, some call it a miracle, others a mistake, whatever you choose, but when your mother suggested you take a pregnancy test just in case since your stomach wasn't the same, your head was everywhere and felt a bit weak during the day, you couldn't rule it out.

It was Interlagos, rainy and humid São Paulo, Lando had left very early for training and you managed to get to a pharmacy and get a test.

You wanted to think it was impossible, but you were too aware of the friend of a friend getting pregnant while on the pill, a friend of you cousin getting pregnant with the implant, a classmate still didn't know how it happened, but now the baby was two years old.

About an hour later, Lando walked into the hotel room, ready to take a shower and sleep, preparing for a busy Friday, but instead he found you sitting with your legs crossed on the bed, not noticing his entrance.

Lando didn't even say hello when he noticed the white stick and a white plastic.

"Please don't tell me you got Covid," That was the only thing on his mind, already too familiar with that test, but this time you stared up at him, trying to find the words.

I am pregnant. What the fuck are we going to do, Lando?

He asked if you were sure, if you were feeling okay, how was it possible, what were you supposed to do now, would your families kill you, would your dad ever speak to him again, should you have the baby or would it be irresponsible.

All those moments were behind as he stared at your scrunched face, teary eyes and messy hair as a contraction hit, but he wasn't able to find the words to help you, he just held your hand and kissed your forehead when you allowed him.

It went on during the entire night. Contractions getting stronger, pain getting sharper, his desperation more palpable whenever someone came in to check you and said there was no progress, you should keep waiting, first babies do this all the time and shit.

He doesn't know when it happened, but the doctor said they'd be taking you to the delivery room or something like that, the baby's heartbeat was decreasing and no signals of dilation or something else Lando didn't understand, but he was worried.

The fact the baby wasn't even born and he was already worrying, about you and the strong pains, the contortion on your face even as you were wheeled inside the sterile room and forced him to separate; worrying about his baby, the one neither you nor him wanted to know the sex and allowing your friends to bet hefty sums on it, maybe the baby didn't want to be out, maybe they were feeling everything going on... was that even possible?

The most extreme scenarios were playing on Lando's head right now.

He wasn't familiar and didn't enjoy this feeling, this helplessness, this preoccupation. Lando drove at high speeds for a living and understood the risks, but this was different, it wasn't his usual terrain and didn't like it.

The only thing he could do was text his mum, informing the things they were doing to you, what they said about the baby, and she reassured him, told him his dad had already spoken to the hospital director so every single person knew he wasn't just a racer, this baby was an heir, very beloved and very awaited.

His thoughts didn't make sense by the time a nurse checked if he had put on the sterile equipment correctly before letting him inside the operation room, where you already were laying with your arms spread, swollen belly visible and surrounded by people, a sterile screen impeding your sight.

this was the last time he was going to see the belly, the one he spent nights talking to, putting his ear to try and hear something, placing his hand to feel every move.

He caressed your hair the entire time, it felt like ages but it was maybe twenty or thirty or forty minutes? when he heard the loudest cry he had ever heard, followed by cheers of the medical personnel and someone asking him to cut the umbilical cord.

What?

But he did everything they asked after making sure you were okay, kissing your lips and clearing the tears from your cheeks, praising your strength, how he loved you even more than he did a couple of hours ago, how he was in awe of you.

"It" turned out to be a "she", not very much hair on her head as they handed her already dressed in the pastel yellow newborn onesie that was a bit big on her.

He couldn't stop staring at her, but still somewhat afraid to hold her for any reason besides handing her to you for feeding. She looked so comfy on the crib, so warm and so safe, he didn't want to break that.

But now you were finally catching some sleep after the surgery, and she looked like she wanted out of the plastic as her tiny fists moved around.

Lando didn't think twice, he instantly knew his daughter wanted to be held. Held by him, her dad.

"Come on, my sweet baby girl," Lando muttered as he accommodated her head on his arm, carefully walking towards the big rocking chair in the room, prepared for this situation.

He let his eyes see her, really contemplate his daughter, a creation by him and the love of his life.

Her tongue poked out, eyelashes carefully caressed her skin, her heart beating along with his.

He silently laughed in disbelief, this was his daughter. The smile on his face was too big, his cheeks were hurting as he carefully stretched his arm to take a picture of her, followed by a selfie of him holding her against his hoodie covered chest, wanting to let everyone know his baby girl arrived, healthy and beautiful.

F1 GRID 2023 OFFICIAL WHATSAPP GROUP

Lando Norris: Get your wallets ready...

Lando Norris: This is Amalia, second name to be discussed, Norris. and now I'm a fucking dad so you'll have to respect me.

He didn't expect many responses, knowing there were time differences and events, but instead he received an overwhelming amount of responses.

Pierre Gasly: fuck no Kika told me to bet on girl!!! Congratulations man, she is the most beautiful baby and cannot wait to meet her.

Fernando Alonso: mis felicitaciones a la familia!

Alex Albon: although I'm disappointed it's not a boy, I'm impressed by your work, never thought you'd be able to create such a gorgeous baby

Charles Leclerc: Congratulations to you and y/n, baby Amalia is gorgeous and already helped her uncle Charles bank account!

Lewis Hamilton: Blessings, my man

George Russell: I always knew it was a girl. Carmen and I are delighted, we are sending our best wishes to the new family!

Yuki Tsunoda: i was so sure it was a boy... congrats!

Estaban Ocon: Pay up, everyone!!! What a blessing she's healthy and has the coolest parents!! can't wait to see her in the paddock

Oscar Piastri: the most beautiful member of the McLaren family. big hug and congratulations to y/n and hope she has a good recovery! I guess you deserve a pat in the back too, congrats mate.

Max Verstappen: Looks like she sided with her favorite uncle, I always knew it was going to be Baby Amalia! She is so lucky to have you as parents and I can't wait to meet her.

Max Verstappen: come on sainz, show your face and pay up!!! I'm favorite uncle.

Carlos Sainz Jr: I don't know if I'm disappointed it's not a boy or crying because she looks like her mother and not like you!!

[willows-writings]

‼️This post is part of a choose your own adventure series and is not meant to be read stand-alone. Click HERE to go to the masterlist and Chapter beginnings‼️

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Question the group?

Prologue

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"Wait what are we talking about?"

Everyone's attention suddenly snaps to you as you mumble out words, no one thought you were anywhere near sober enough to hear them.

Mike, ever the leader, speaks first "Nothing y/n go to bed."

"No don't brush me off I wanna know!" You huff and Sam has to adjust her grip on you.

Jess rolls her eyes and walks closer to you "Look y/n all you need to know is we're playing a little prank on Hannah, she's been trying to get with Mike and needs to be taught a lesson."

You frown "But that's mean, Hannah- Hannah invited us all up here, this is her place, we gotta be nice invitees." your eyes are starting to slip close and more and more weight is being leaned onto Sam.

Ashley steps forward now "Technically it was Josh who invited us, but anyways it's nothing bad, just a small little prank." She smiles at you in a way that reassures your drunken mind.

You giggle, "Okk then, I'll help her dye all your teeth blue later in revenge." You are humored by your own joke and start giggling and laughing more.

Sam lets out a sigh and starts to drag you away. "Bye guys, I hope you make the right decision."

You close your eyes and lean againist Sam trusting her to take you somewhere as the world spins beneath your eyelids. By the time you open then again you are in a room lit by a fire that you can see Beth standing by and a couch in front of it that holds your boyfriend.

"Joshhhh" you break off from Sam and stumble to the couch, nearly tripping over the edge of it before flopping down on top of the man already laying there.

"Y/n babyyy my gorgeous amazing other half." His words were also slurred and his arms clumsily come up to curl around you tightly as he buries his face in your hair. You giggle and turn your face towards the fire to find Beth looking at the two of you fondly.

"Hiii Elizabeth, Bethy, my lovely friend." You reach the hand closest out to her and she takes it and gives it a little squeeze.

"Hi y/n. Partied hard?" She's smiling in a way that says she's already taken pictures of the scene to use as blackmail later on.

"Ugh yes, and just give me like thirty minutes and I will be ready to party again." As you say this your eyes drift further closed and you feel yourself relaxing more and more into Josh.

"Mhm sure." She snorts and lets go of your hand which you wrap around Josh. "Sleep well y/n, we can party tomorrow night."

You hum contently and close your eyes. You nestle your face into the crook of Josh's neck and settle further into your comfy human pillow. Between the heat of your boyfriend and the fire, you find yourself drifting off to sleep to the quiet crackle of wood, and breathing of Josh in minutes.

ʚїɞ

The way you wake up isn't quiet.

Instead of soft fire glow it's harsh red and blue lights. Instead of soft breathing it's loud voices and the crackle of walkie-talkies.

Those sounds stay for weeks until suddenly it's quiet. Quiet as in feelings of regret and grief. Quiet as in sobbing over a closed case and two graves.

You think you prefer the sirens.

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End of Prologue

Chapter 1

OBaC Masterlist

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Prologue is finished! Sorry if this isn't accurate to how you personally would act drunk. Featuring a little fluffy moment with Josh and Beth before the bad stuff. :( Did all the talk of seeing Hannah and Beth later make you sad hehe. I felt evil putting that in.

Anyways I'm putting the text for the beginning of Chapter 1 above but I need to rewatch some of the game first so I can write everything accurately. It will be linked when it's done which will most likely be later this week or early next week!! As always likes, reblogs and comments are appriciated!

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Going under

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 6

Rated: E

Tags: Dubious consent; Monster Steve; Dark Steve; Monsterfucker Eddie; Tentacle Sex; Implied mind control; Murder Boyfriends; Blood and gore

Notes: Continued from here

Eddie shivers as he watches the boiling surface of the lake. The early August wind is cold, and Wayne's old rifle shakes in his grip. Maybe it's the early onset of fall in the air. Maybe it's because his hair and clothes are drenched in lake water, or because of the adrenaline slowly leaving his body.

Maybe it's because of the blood cooling on his skin.

The water stirs once more, large bubbles bursting on the surface. Then it goes calm.

The sun is gone, but the surface is red.

He should leave.

He should get rid of the gun and burn his clothes before anyone sees him. Get out of the county, or maybe the whole damn state, assume a new name and start over.

But he doesn't.

He knows there's no use in running. The Call would reach him anywhere. There's only one way out.

Something wraps around his ankle, cold and wet like the lake itself. He doesn’t need to look to know what it is. Instead, he watches how Steve emerges from the shallow water near the shore. His eyes are two shiny marbles in the gloomy half-light, tentacles writhing around him in a dark, twitching mass. A chill trickles down Eddie’s spine, settling in his bones, his soul. His fingers curl around the rifle.

“You're thinking of using that thing against me?” Steve's eyes are large and round, his voice hurt. He'd look boyish and innocent, if it wasn't for the blood staining his chin and chest. “Why on earth would you do that?”

Eddie can feel the Call slither inside of him, like the tentacle wrapping around his leg. He clenches his teeth against it, even as his feet start moving, lake water seeping into his shoes.

“You're a monster,” he whispers. “You ate-”

“I ate him, yes,” Steve says easily. His hands, too, are red as they reach out to beckon Eddie deeper into the water. He goes as if pulled on a string. “It's in my nature. You, on the other hand? You killed him, pet. What does that make you, hm?”

He smiles, soft and indulgent, with just a hint of fangs glinting behind those pretty lips of his. They're stained red.

Eddie shakes his head. He's in to his waist now, his shorts a heavy weight in the water. “I'm nothing like you, I don't- … I didn't enjoy it. He was a horrible person, he had to go.”

“Of course he had to,” Steve purrs, opening his arms to let Eddie in. His tongue, pointed and so much longer than a human one, darts out to lick the blood off his face in long, thorough drags. “He was in your way. Just like the others.”

The water is up to his chest. The ground under his feet is gone, but Steve's tentacles are around his waist, around his legs, trapping him in place and keeping him afloat. The tip of one wiggles its way down the front of his shorts, nimble like a human hand.

“That's not what-” he starts to say, but then the tentacle wraps around his cock, and the words give way to a breathy moan. Even with the awful chill filling every cell of his being, he's half hard already. Maybe the realization should fill him with terror or alarm, but he can't for the life of him remember why. Not when Steve is so ethereally pretty, with his tousled caramel hair, bronze skin dotted in moles and little specks of crimson.

“Just like all of them, right?” Steve says. His touch is slow and teasing, gentle almost, but the fangs scraping at Eddie’s rabitting pulse are sharp. “Just like everyone else in this godforsaken town. Looking down at you, calling you a freak and a monster and an abomination.”

“I'm not,” Eddie gasps. They're out in the middle of the lake now, red tendrils still floating all around them. There's more tentacles pulling down his pants, leaving him naked in the cold water. Desire coils at the base of his spine, clouds his head like mud in clear water. “I'm not … a monster.”

“Aw,” Steve coos, bloodied hands coming up to cradle Eddie’s head. It's the only thing left above the surface now. “But you are. Why else would you be so good at this? Why else would you keep feeding me so well? Why else would you respond to my Call so beautifully? Why else would you enjoy this?”

His lips taste like blood as he licks into Eddie’s mouth. The pressure and burn of his tentacles slipping inside, cold and thick and nimble, is the most beautiful pain Eddie’s ever felt.

Maybe Steve is right, he thinks, obediently opening his mouth for that tongue. There's blood on his face, blood in his mouth. Steve's hands in his hair, too-sharp nails cutting into his scalp. Steve's tentacles moving inside of him, a second and third joining the first, while another keeps toying with his aching cock. Maybe they are more alike than he thought. Maybe he should just accept that.

The rifle is gone from his hand, slipped under the water to join the remains of their victims on the lake bed.

There's no way out.

More holiday drabbles

He's going down, and the chill is taking over his entire being.

Tag list: @noodle-shenaniganery

[dominimoonbeam]

I almost missed your post and I didn't understand why everyone were asking for fics 🥺

I would love to have number 27 with Sam / Darlin sharing a coat / blanket on a cold night, all sleepy and cuddly...

I wish you the very best and thank you so much for sharing your beautiful work 💞

- ❄️

I'm glad you found it, Anon!! Thank you for the ask and the super nice words! <3 <3

darlin/sam

early relationship, sharing a blanket

The wolf ran through the deep snow, from the woods to the cottage, shaking off as much of the ice as they could on the porch before shifting human and opening the door. The storm pushed them in and they swore when they used their weight to close the door.

"We're definitely snowed in and it looks like the power is out down through the valley," the said, shaking snow out of their hair and shivering. "Fuck, it's cold!"

Sam nodded, stacking another log onto the fire.

Darlin took a step closer to the living room, folding their arms against the cold. The heating had gone out this morning when the storm kicked in and the power went out.

They laughed at the state of the living room. Sam had been intent on getting a stack of wood inside and the fire raging. Now it looked like he'd dragged every blanket and pillow in the shack onto the stretch of floor in front of it, piled between the little couch and the coffee table he'd pushed off to the side. "What's going on here?" they asked, teeth already starting to chatter.

He shot them a look, frowning seriously. "Take off your boots and put those socks on."

Darlin laughed. "What?"

He had that cute crease in his brow that he got when he was worried. "It's cold."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"It's going to get colder."

Darlin grinned. "Are you saying we should...get warm, Sammy?"

He sputtered but closed the distance between them rather than circling floor away from them like he usually would when Darlin made some sort of innuendo. "It's going to get really cold, Darlin. You need to keep all the warmth you can. So, ditch the boots, put on the socks, and get in the blankets."

Darlin didn't move, liking just how close he was standing and the very serious face the cowboy was making. They'd been friends for months now, circling something more, but they respected that he wanted to go slow. Sometimes they thought he was going slow because of them, because he wasn't sure about them, or wasn't that interested, but maybe that was even more reason to keep things slow. Maybe they would never get anywhere beyond friends and if that was the case, that was okay too.

Sam raised an eyebrow at their stillness. "I will take your boots off for you if you--"

Darlin groaned and immediately toed off their boots, hating the idea of anyone helping them do anything. Rolling their eyes at him, they grabbed the thick socks he's laid out on the arm of a chair and marched across the nest he'd made on the floor. It was impossible not to smile again when they got to the other side, near the fire. "This is too fucking cute, Sammy. Are you worried I'm going to die?"

He joined them, moving the covers around and sitting next to them, pulling the stack of blankets up and around them both. Darlin was sitting cross-legged, pulling the extra socks on over their own. It was, admittedly, really damn cold.

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Darlin looked over their shoulder at him. He was sitting really close. They smiled. "Always."

He scooted in, one arm curling around them to tug them back until they were sitting between his spread legs, their back to his chest. Darlin held their breath for a second, surprising by the intimate situation, by the nearness, and the ease Sam seemed to feel about it all. Or, at least, he was so completely focused on getting the blankets around them, cocooning them against the cold, that he hadn't thought about it.

When he was done, Darlin was reclined against his chest, his arms around their waist, his thighs pressed along the outside of theirs, and the fire casting light and warmth on their face. "You know, I wasn't going to die, right?" they said, but softly because they definitely weren't going to complain about this either.

He sighed, his breath against their cheek. "You don't worry enough about yourself."

"I've survived a lot, Sammy. I'm not fragile."

His arms tightened a little around them under all those covers. "You're strong," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean you're invincible." His voice was low, close to their ear. The storm howled outside and the fire crackled. "I'm not gonna stand here, watch'n you shiver, and assume you'll survive the night."

Darlin sighed, warmer already. "You sure you weren't just trying to find a reason to get me in your lap?" They smirked, waiting for his usual huff of uncomfortable laughter or sputter of pretend shock.

Instead, they felt him smile against their cheek. "I mean...It ain't a downside."

Darlin definitely felt warmer.

[selkiechild4998]

✧°˖────———- ・・・・・ . ☽ ‧₊˚ ···╮

Ghoul in Love

╰┈ ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ ・・・・———-────°˖✧

This Swiss/Perpetua ship has bewitched me body and soul. I am the captain of this ship and I will go down with it XD

Day Five of Mushy May: Love at first sight!

TW- None

Genre- Fluff

Wordcount- 810 Words

AO3 Link- Here!

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　⛧⃝　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

"So, we're getting a new Papa?"

"Seems like it."

"But why? I don't want a new Papa."

"Come on, Dear, give him a chance."

The Ghoul Den was abuzz with the news given to them. They knew this day would come eventually. Reactions were mixed. The ghoulettes were curious, Phantom was in denial, and Dew was angry. Swiss was with the ghoulettes in their curiosity. Unlike Dew and Mountain, this was their first time being passed to a new Papa. Would he be as kind as their Copia? Would he try to mimic their noises, or learn their pack's dynamic? Or will he be indifferent, not caring for their interactions or remembering their names?

They had hopes for the former when Copia introduced them to the new ghoulette. She was a quintessence-fire multi-ghoulette, an opposite to Swiss's fire-quintessence mix. While his mixing of elements led to his classification as a Radiation Ghoul, the ghoulette was a Celestial Ghoul. It made the name the new Papa had given her fit so well, Solaris.

Solaris spoke highly of the new Papa, but that was expected. She's his service ghoul, helping him with his anxiety, like how Phantom helped Copia. It made Swiss all the more curious.

That curiosity came to a head when it was time for the first photoshoot. At last, they will be allowed to meet their new Papa.

"You're excited," Dew mumbled as he adjusted the tailcoat of his new uniform.

"Really? What gave it away?" Swiss teased, his tail constantly wagging back and forth, the bell tied to the end of the limb jingling nonstop.

"Call it a hunch," Dew huffed, glaring at the ringing bells.

Swiss snickered, his sharp teeth glinting under his silver mask. His attention was soon drawn away when one of the siblings of sin peeked through the door, letting the ghouls know they had five minutes before the shoot.

"I'll see you all on set. I'm gonna get a look at this V guy," Swiss trilled, sauntering out the room, getting Dew to roll his eyes at him.

The photoset was busy, siblings setting up the smoke machine, adjusting lights, and ensuring the backdrop was stable. There was so much going on, it took Swiss a moment to find any familiar faces.

He first spotted Solaris, the ghoulette dressed in her dark uniform, her thin, milky white fur hidden under the fabric of her bodysuit, tailcoat, and veil. The only skin visible on her was her tail, which was relaxed behind her, the long tufts of fiery red hair at the end of the tail pooling on the ground. The person standing next to her with their back to Swiss must be the new Papa.

The deep, royal purple Papal Robes reminded the multi-ghoul of the robes the former Papa Terzo would wear, but far more grand, accented with shimmering silver fabric. He was currently speaking with Copia, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Curiously, Swiss approached, the bells on his tail alerting the new Papa of his advances. When he turned to look at the multi-ghoul, he was, for once, left speechless. He looked like Copia, but at the same time, he didn't. Curly dark brown hair poked out from under the mitre he wore. His eyes matched Copia's as well, green and white irises boring into the ghoul as he studied him from under the silver skeletal mask he wore.

"Hello, Swiss," Copia greeted before looking at the new Papa, "V, this is Swiss, my multi-ghoul."

"Hello," V smiled, and Swiss felt the air was knocked out of him, his pupils dilating to near pitch black voids.

Those teeth. Those unnaturally sharp, shining white teeth. Swiss couldn't take his eyes off them. That smile looked so unnerving, so supernaturally large, and so utterly captivating.

Swiss didn't even realize he was purring until V's voice snapped him from his thought, "What's that sound?"

"Purring," Copia answered, "Swiss's element causes his purrs to a bit sound off."

"Hmm... I like it," V mused, tilting his head at Swiss in interest. It just took that little complement to get Swiss's purrs to skyrocket in intensity, sounding like a giger counter next to a chunk of uranium.  

"Go on and head to your mark, Swiss," Copia instructed, "You too, Solaris. Don't want to fall behind schedule, no?"

"Yes, Frater," Solaris nodded, turning to head to her mark, but giggled when Swiss stumbled over both his feet and words.

"Yes, Copi- Pa- Frater! Yes, Frater! On it!"

Swiss had to force his legs to listen to him, his form practically vibrating as he followed Solaris onto the set, meeting the other ghouls already on their marks. He felt knees wobble, hearing the soft laugh that came from V, as well as the innocent comment shared with his twin.

"I like that one."

[senseichaos]

Howdy howdy! I ADORED "You Can't Run. Hell. You Can't Even Hide" The balance between absolute fear, dizzy hypnotic confusion, and wide eyed admiration that the reader character holds for Vox is immaculate! Also them calling him Mister Vox is just Chef's kiss (it is WAY too hard to find xReader fics or even just fics in general where the honorific is Mister (C/N) and I love every one I find). The clothing change moment was probably my favorite, I'll always be a sucker for the representation of being broken and rebuilt in someone's image combined with the gift of pretty clothes. I keep going back to reread the whole story.

I know it's a oneshot, but since your requests are open, I figured I'd shoot my shot and ask if you would make a part two where Mister Vox just wrecks us, preferably sexually. We did leave off on him finding us trying to run away, do we not deserve to be punished for such an offense after all he's done for us? I also would love to see if/how much Vox has to push us to slowly become happy to be his, if that's something he wants (I could imagine having a rowdy unwilling runaway as his possession would get frustrating after awhile and be terrible for his image). There's honestly so much potential for what could happen next, and even though I could stew in my imagination, I would very much love to be at the mercy of your interpretation of the funky TV man a little longer.

That said, take your time, I know you've gotten a huge influx of Hazbin requests, hell I wouldn't be surprised if someone else already requested something similar to what I requested. I also understand if you can't/don't want to fulfill this request for any reason, that's what makes it a request. No matter what, you're an amazing writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!

💙✨

AAAAAAH!! I love you sm! When I saw this request I knew I had to do it at some point! I'm giving you the name 💙 anon from now on so if you request again I know it's you!

_______

Forever and always

(part 2 to: You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either)

Summary: After that day you attempted to escape from Vox, you had become somewhat accustomed to this new life you are forced to be living. Or you were until Vox gives you your first day off, causing you to find something out that would change how you live forever.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Horror (?)

Warnings: Non-Con, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Masochism, Electric shocks, Mind control, Drugging, Love potion, Vox is an asshole, Hurtful language, forced, gilded cage, soul contracts, unprotected sex (DONT), Vox owns reader, dacryphilia, let me know if I missed any!!

(not proof read)

--------

That day you attempted to escape from your gilded cage you wished to escape again, though vox had managed to continue his control. Even when he tugged you back by your electric leash you felt that horrid sinking feeling. This was it. For the rest of eternity as you know it Vox has you. He owns you, your soul, your body, your life; or well, lack thereof. You couldn't run from him no matter what you did, he practically controls the pride ring, keeping you tethered there like a puppy on a leash is simple to him. He has eyes everywhere. You cannot hide anywhere.

Recently Mister Vox has become a lot more... Touchy. Those fleeting touches of his fingers against your back, poking against your chin, pressing into your neck, swiping against your bottom, touching against your bosom. There is an odd burning feeling to it, you don't want to enjoy Mister Vox touching you in such ways, you don't want to enjoy it when he sucks his teeth at you or licks his tongue against his gums. But you do. You can't quench that desire. Especially when he'd moved you into his room from your apartment building. He hadn't made you share a bed with him, thank Lucifer, but he had made you sleep near enough to him that you can tell when he's.. pleasuring himself. Almost as if he wants you to hear him.

You and Mister Vox have never been better, besides from such hurdles. You stay obedient no matter how badly you wish to escape his arms. To cut all of his tight bounds on your body and run away. You'd figure out how, one day, you would.

"Good morning my dear! Did you have a gratifying sleep?" This is how most mornings go, Mister Vox will wake you with a poke if your side and a coffee in hand, already fully dressed and done up. You've always considered yourself a light sleeper, so you never know how he manages to make you a coffee every morning without so much as stirring you awake. You smile, nodding softly as you pry your eyes from his two dimensional face.

"Thank you Mister Vox, uhm.. did you have a good sleep as well?" You ask, taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee. Vox smiles, nodding as he takes a seat on the side of your bed.

"Of course, my dear. So, I know you have been working very hard recently... So I've decided to give you the day off!" Mister Vox declares, outstretching his hands as he gives you a manic smile. A day off? Why? This has to be a test. he's just going to leave you.. alone? For a whole day? This has to be fake, a joke, a flook.

"Oh my dear don't look so surprised! You've been a very good girl recently so I thought you deserved a day off," Mister Vox pauses, looking up at the roof for a second before peering back at you. "Now don't think this means we don't have rules, you are to stay in here for the day. If you want to go shopping I have to accompany you, alright? But I do have an appointment in an hour so it won't be for long,"

"Remember, I have eyes everywhere.."

You laugh awkwardly, shrinking into your own figure.

"I know Mister Vox.. I wouldn't forget," You can't stop that sorrow from entering your voice, but quickly you put on that mask of a smile once again. Mister Vox clasps his hands together, that red dripping from his maw again. "Great! Now I'll see you soon, be a good girl for me, hm?" He says, ruffling your hair atop your head with a condescending gaze.

"Yes Mister Vox," you reply simply, watching as he disappears in Into a blue line of electricity, shooting into the camera.

Fuck. Now what?

You can't remember the last time you were given this type of freedom, even if it wasn't a lot of freedom. Often you were tethered to Vox's side. Everyone in the building knows that you belong to Vox. Everyone outside of the building probably knows this, too.

There's this odd feeling in your stomach, this odd feeling as if you were floating. It happened every time you drank your morning coffee, but you'd always assumed it was just that feeling of awakening from slumber. But today, oh today it is stronger than ever before. It's as if you can feel every nerve in your body be rewired, every single hair on your body stand on end. Every sensation is doubled.

What the fuck was in this coffee? What is this euphoria? What is this yearning.. this yearning for Vox? You suddenly wish he was here, with you, holding you, calling you his good girl.. m

Shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you stand from your bed, fixing the large blue shirt you wear (that vox often asks you to wear when you sleep) as you walk to the kitchen.

The kitchen in Mister Vox's room is a large area just off to the side of his desk space, lined with many kitchen appliances and red cabinets. You are determined to figure out what he's putting in your coffee, what's making you feel so emotional. Needy. Awful. You scan the room, finding the coffee machine in the corner of the room with a couple bags next to it. Coffee, sugar, creamer... Nothing suspicious yet, it seems. Crouching down, you look open the cabinets beneath the coffee machine. Looking through the half full area.

Then you saw it, a small vial hidden behind a spare bag of creamer labeled 'Valentino and Velvette: Love potion'.

Terror shoots through you, causing you to drop the vial to the floor. It shatters everywhere, leaving the pink liquid to seep into the tiles below. He's drugging you. All this time, you feeling this want for him, burning at his touch, listening to him as he jerks himself off late at night. You wanting him to do things to you. It's all part of his plan to make you his, completely. To make you want to be his.

Burning tears fall down your cheeks, humoring you as you stand on shaky legs from the tile. What do you do? Now more than ever you want an out, a loophole, a way to take your soul back from his greedy claws. Anxiety, terror, hurt, worry, pain.

You want to prevent yourself from doing anything drastic, you really do. But all you can feel is this pain, this pain as you run on your feet to the balcony door. Trying your hardest to pry open the doors as they rattle loudly, shaking them, pulling them, pushing them. This evil man can't keep you here for any longer. You'd do anything to leave, ruin yourself for him, do something awful, make yourself less attractive to him.

Nausea. Headache. Your knees buckle as an electric blue overtakes your vision. What is this? You can't breathe, Vox. Vox. Help. Your head clouds, words fill your brain and you feel yourself being wrapped up by sharp claws. You can't scream. Help me. Please.

"You really think it's that easy?" Mister Vox.

"I can't believe I trusted you alone, even for a minute. After all I've done for you, as well. After I gave you a life some would dream for. Stupid girl." He sounds mad, horridly mad. Regretful. Throbbing takes over your body as sound waves film your ears. You can feel him lift you into his arms, placing you down onto a soft surface harshly.

"How am I supposed to make you understand this? You're mine,"

Your vision slowly comes back, until all you can see is him as he stares at you from above. His eyes are dark, domineering, needing. He's ready to take. What is he doing? All you can feel is his claw as it travels up your middle, between the valley of your breasts, stopping at the middle of your neck.

"Now, my dear? Are you going to let me teach you a lesson? For being such a brat?" You gasp, feeling his hand as it circles around your neck, effectively taking some air from your lungs. You shake your head, attempting to move your heavy legs from him with wet teary eyes.

"Nonono! Get off, please, get off!" You cry, writhing in his grasp. He sighs, rolling his eyes as he clicks his fingers. Suddenly a pulse of electricity goes through you, causing a shock to blur your eyes and pull a scream from you.

"Every time you try anything I'm shocking you, Dove. Don't try to escape from me, it's not going to work," he grins, laughing at your frightened teary eyes. "I can do whatever I want to you, my dear! I fucking own you!!" He growls, using his hand that isn't around your neck to push your thighs to your chest, revealing your bare pussy from beneath your oversized shirt.

"No please.. I'll do anything..?"

"Oh I'm sorry dear, but this is what I want more than anything right now.. maybe you should have thought of this before making such a racket and alerting everyone in the building, hm?" He says, dragging his clawed finger through your building wetness. He finally takes his hand from your neck, instead using it to keep your thighs in place as he pinches your clit between his sharp claws.

"Ah! Mister Vox.. hurts..!" You wail, wiping your tears from your eyes as he continues to abuse your sensitive bud between his fingers. He chuckles looking up at you as you gasp in pain.

"Hah! Wail all you want, dear, no one can save you." Vox guffaws, finally taking his claws from your clit. Only to plunge them into your aching hole without warning. You moan out, feeling the sharpness of them inside of you as he curls his fingers into your g-spot.

Mister Vox revels in your wails of pain and pleasure, fucking you with his clawed fingers harsh and fast. His claws are surely are scratching you from the Inside, he can tell by the way your hands tremble and clasp over your lips.

You can't help but feel good. This masochism of yours that forces it's way into you. Every scratch of his fingers inside of you just makes you want to cum. You can't give him that satisfaction, you can't let him know that you are enjoying every second of his claws thrusting inside of you. This is awful. You hate it. You hate that you love it.

"Is my little dove enjoying this? Awe.. to scared to admit you fucking love this?" Vox laughs sadistically, giving you an extremely harsh thrust of his fingers into your g-spot. You squeal, vision going white for a moment as his fingers go at this manic speed. You feel your orgasm build, wishing to break through the walls and release. But you can't let it, you won't let him have that. You'll never let him have that feeling knowing he's won.

"If you don't cum I'll fucking ruin you, dove."

You gasp and choke on saliva, clawing on the bedsheets below as he forces you to orgasm. There's no getting out. He knows that you are trying not to cum. And he won't let it happen.

"Yes.. Mister Vox.." you say softly, hole clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Vox makes sure to drag it out, giving you slow rhythmic thrusts of his fingers to watch your body contract and writhe with pleasure.

"Good dove, listening to commands for me," He says softly, stroking the side of your cheek as he kneels between your legs. You want to pull away, but once again that burning and yearning feeling fills you. That stupid potion had an effect, and you can tell. From the way you feel a dizzy want when he looks at you to the wetness that continues to build between your thighs.

"Now, I'm going to fuck you so hard.." He laughs so himself, smiling crazily as he presses his hand to his face. "I'm gonna fuck you SO FUCKING hard, you won't even remember who I am anymore! How does that sound, my little slut?" Your lower lip wobbles as more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

"Awful.." you whisper.

Another strong electric shock goes through you, causing you to scream out Mister Vox's name in pain as your body is left shaking and aching.

From the corner of your eye, you see Vox unzipping his fly.

"Wrong answer! Haha! Wrong fucking answer stupid slut," He growls, pressing the tip of his cock to your hole without a care. There something wrong with him, he's acting more crazy than ever before. He's getting off on your fear, getting off on your pain, getting off on knowing you can't do anything but be his.

With a loud slap, Vox sinks his entire length into you. You scream, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life as he looms over you. He doesn't even give you a moment to let you rest, immediately setting a ruthless pace with his hips into yours. Every thrust causes your vision to go spotty with the pure force he drives his hips with, groaning with every thrust as he stares completely into your face as it scrunches in a pleasurable pain.

"S'too much! M-Mister vox It hurts!" You cry, reaching out to press your hands against his shoulders, clawing into his coat. You don't even care anymore, you want at least a small bit of comfort from these strong unforgiving thrusts. Vox chuckles at this, leaning down closer so he can capture your lips in a (forced) yet passionate kiss.

His long electric blue tongue immediately finds its way into your gob, passionately fornicating it against your own as his thrusts send you into a sort of floaty state. Vox maps the entirety of your mouth, tasting every crevice of you from your lips to the back of your throat. He thrusts almost ravenously like a dog, tip of his cock sometimes painfully pressing against your cervix.

Pulling away, Mister Vox looks Into your eyes, revelling in the way you claw at his back. You whimper and moan loudly, eyes fluttering closed as a tear falls down your cheek. He kisses it away, looking up at your closed eyes with a grin.

"Open your eyes, dove. Look at me while I fuck you." You cry out, opening your eyes for him so you can see him look at you with pleasure.

"Y-yes Mister- Ah! Vox.."

He chuckles, thrusting into you extremely hard. You can see the bulge of his cock in your stomach, poking against your skin in such a way you almost want to touch it.

"I'd fucking breed you if I could, fill your filthy cunt with all my little babies so then you can't even dream of leaving.. but I can imagine," Vox rambles, taking your cheek into his hand so he can look at you longingly- and almost affectionately. If it weren't for the position you're in you'd almost be enjoying this moment.

"Mister Vox!" You cry, back arching as your orgasm begins to prod at your stomach.

"Hm?" He asks, grunting as he thrusts into you.

"Can I cum? Please! Please please please.." You beg, legs quivering wildly. Vox chuckles, giving you an adoring look as you bite your lower lip.

"Awe look at you! Asking Mister Vox to cum and everything.." Vox begins, biting his lip as you sputter on a moan. "Of course you can, dove. Let go so I can fuck my cum into you.."

You scream his name when you cum, digging your nails so hard into his back you're sure his coat has tears in it.

You'd given up. Well and truly. You wouldn't admit it. But you've finally accepted it. You belong to Mister Vox. Forever and always.

Forever and Always.

Vox gives you one last thrust, emptying his cum into you with a moan from his own lips. Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, Vox drags out his orgasm by serving you a few more small quick thrusts, making sure every last drop is inside of you.

But when he has, he doesn't pull out.

"Mister Vox.. pull out.." you whimper, wiggling your hips against him.

"Haha! As if. I said i'd fuck my cum into you, didn't I? I haven't done that yet.. okay?" He asks, stroking a hand through your hair.

"Yes Mister Vox."

[a-twistedheartslonging]

also, but what would be their opinion on this kind of thing, you know, if they would like this way of showing affection or find it strange (most likely they would be greedy about it and the poor reader would have to remind them that they need to breathe)

I'm too lazy to do all the boys but...

I would think many would like how...gentle your way of affection feels. Your lips are warm and soft, they feel so nice against his own and when you gently brush them against the skin of his face.

For many of them, it turns into-

but with much bigger creatures.

So, for face kisses...

Malleus is needy and isn't ashamed of it nor will he try to hide. You once joked that the scales on his forehead were to let you know where to smooch and he takes it very seriously and even moves his bangs out of his face when around you, expecting those soft human kisses.

As for mouth kisses, he has a similar issue that the eel twins do...accidentally choking you with his long-forked tongue. He really doesn't mean to, but it doesn't help that your mouth is smaller than his and it's so easy to gag you.

Leona is also needy and clingy, won't admit it, has his own way of demanding them, and loves to have you on his lap, claws lightly digging into your hips and you pepper his face with them. His kisses get sloppy and a bit wet, especially since he'll switch from making out to just licking your face suddenly. Jack has a similar habit.

Riddle is funnily more flustered about the kisses than he is about giving your face little grooming/affection licks and little bites. It just feels more intimate to put your mouths together like that.

Idia was kind of surprised that you wanted to be anywhere near his mouth giving the sharp teeth and mandibles. He knows people find bug features... unpleasant. Unlike the beasts that will lick and try grooming you with their mouths, he uses his mandibles to help you groom. Gently brushing them against your face and using them to mess with your hair. He sort of does it uncourteously when you're cuddling and close to his face and without thinking they help hold your face in place when kissing. Kisses are already intimate but if you place little kisses on his mandibles too. Oh, he's done for.

Jack well actually whines and gets huffy if you try keeping your lips sealed when he tries giving you one of his "kisses". Hey, he's trying to show you his love and respect here! And check on your health...and make sure you ate....and...

Wolves have a few reasons for doing it, really. Can't say he's not a fan of those human kisses though. He does everything to keep his face neutral, but his tail always gives him away when he leans down to your height to receive those sweet kisses.

Now that I think about it, you probably shouldn't wear flavored chapstick unless you're cool with one of them actually trying to lick it off. Especially the ones like Floyd...and no for the record neither he nor Jade would be sorry about gagging you with their tongues and there are admittedly times when they'll do it on purpose.

They think it's funny/amusing how your little mouth and throat can't handle them, and it admittedly gives them...more thoughts. You can try biting them during but with how they are it would probably be viewed as "playing" and not hurt them like you think it would.

[nqueso-lies]

maybe that person was bamboozled by the journalists more than anything because… Tommy has been back. they have hooked up since the breakup. He’s being brought back for the big rescue. There’s speculation he’s in a scene at madney’s house… Without those interviews no one would have been anywhere near as upset. saur.

the anger seems misplaced if this person is being truthful and isn’t just a bestie lying through their teeth.

Which is why I haven't blocked them yet. I'm trying to keep a conversation going somewhat but at the end of the day I can't change things and I'm not going to apologize for something if I didn't do anything wrong.

Something else I don't understand is this "stop getting people's hopes up"

About what?

Bucktommy is canon. End of. I'm not sure how much more final you can get here.

[thehollowwriter]

Listen ya'll I know I'm literally the one who decides to make Finn and Silas cookie cutter sharks, but I'm ngl, at the time it was just cause I Iike cookie cutter sharks. I didn't realise it was accidentally thematically significant until later *wheeze*

Just a warning for discussions of cannabilism, fantasy racism, bullying, and some shark skull pictures under the cut. Also pretty pretty please read this for cookie cutter shark stuff, it's not very long XD

A big part of both Finn and Silas' lives (plus Morrigan's) was being percieved as more monstrous, animalistic, and dangerous, and even parasitic, partially due to Silas being from the Abyss, and partially because they don't look as human as other mers.

I have a hc (mostly because of Azul's backstory tbh) that throughout the many centuries of coexistence, human cultures and standards began influencing those of the merfolk.

Over time, more human looking mers (ones that look like your typical human idea of a mermaid e.g Ariel) came to be viewed as more civilised and desirable, while your more "animalistic mers" (such as Jade, Floyd, and Azul, tho even they still look quite human) that are a harder pill to swallow for humans came to be viewed as animalistic, stupid, and dangerous.

Essentially, the former were pretty fantasy creatures, and the latter were horror movie monsters.

Silas especially suffers from this due to being from the Abyss, and though his reputation is somewhat better than when he first came to Atlantica or during the time Morrigan died, he's still viewed as:

1. A creepy, violent cannibal just waiting for a chance to grab the next good hardworking citizen to devour, despite the fact that he hasn't eaten another merfolk in almost thirty years

2. A parisite (leeching off Morrigan, taking other people's money) despite the fact that he's self supporting (Can't be entitled to your dead husband's money or belongings when you aren't legally married bc you don't legally exist 🤷‍♂️ so it all goes to your shitty in-laws who hate you)

However I would be lying if I said that parisite imagery didn't work for Silas. Hell, his UM is parasitic in nature to reflect the life he jad to live in the Abyss, and even my idea for his OB phantom is the plush shark gorging on the ink bottle (and maybe the "cap" of the bottle puncturing the phantom's head and sticking out the other side like it ate too much)

His quiet nature, job as a butcher, and few ventures into public lets rumours run wild, which doesn't work out well for either him or Finn. And that's not even touching on the fact that when he does talk to others, if they're not acting like he's gonna suddenly lunge at them, they talk to him like he's stupid ("This is a phone, see!" Type behaviour yk) and only seem to take him serious when he copies Morrigan's more upper-class way of talking.

Finn, although certainly not treated anywhere near as badly as Silas, isn't free from coming under fire either. He may be treated with a very odd form of pity due to being raised by "someone like him (Silas)", but that's drowned out by being seen as a creepy problem child that upsets and scares his classmates. He's always been indirectly told he doesn't act "normal" and that something is "wrong", which is often blamed on either Silas or Finn's "nature."

Finn is largely avoided by other merfolk, whether it be fear of him attacking (mixed with a fear of the feeling the ghosts get others) or being lured by him to Silas, as some rumours went. Some children are banned from interacting with Finn or Silas entirely. For those who are more daring, they're quickly put off by Finn's unusual silence and "weird" or gross interests.

There are few who try and tease or bully Finn, and fewer who do it continuously, but those who do mostly target Finn's appearance (fat, "ugly" teeth, "ugly" shade of green, claws, too small, etc) and behaviour ("creep", dumb, too sensitive, weirdo, "doesn't talk/doesn't talk right", etc) or take advantage of his size to try knock him around (this ends poorly)

Cookie cutter sharks themselves are technically parasites, but not in the way people think. They are not true parasites, instead they are facultative ectoparasites. Although they do engage in parasitism, they don't depend on it to survive and do in fact hunt other sea creatures such as squid, like other sharks do. However, most people only know them as parasites that only feed off bigger creatures, similarly to how Silas (and by extention, Finn) is viewed.

Not only that, but cookie cutter sharks used to be called "demon whale biters" before they got their current name. It fits pretty well with Finn and Silas being seen as monstrous/demonic despite being extremely unlikely to attack anyone unprovoked and just want to be left alone.

Cookie cutter sharks are largely acknowledged to not be very pretty either. One of their nicknames is the "cigar shark" due to apparently looking like a rolled up cigar, and an article even described them as "ugly pencils" at one point. Their teeth aren't considered pretty either. I've actually got good pictures of cookie cutter shark skulls here:

Funnily enough, people do like more well-known sharks and even find them more pretty or even cute. Even their sharp and dangerous teeth are more palatable in a way since they appear more "neat" and appealingly organised.

This again fits with Finn, as Ariel-like shark mers are regarded pretty highly and found to be cool, strong and attractive (though this would probably be due to more acceptance of those kinds of mers in the recent past) while Finn's seen almost like a little freakshow of sorts.

So yeah that's my lil symbolism(?) ramble of the day lol

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