#cause yeah on one hand the situation was messy

[seance]

struggling to know how to feel about the crew at the end of episode 7 ngl

[yzzart]

WHEN I WAS LED TO YOU... ── KENJI SATO

── summary: Kenji could get used to his routine, but, only with you by his side.

── word count: 982!

── warnings: F!reader, nothing intense, mention of Emi and Mina, Kenji being a little needy.

“Come on…” — A voice, entering the melody with softness and familiarity, passed through the player’s ears. — “…i know you’re awake.” — The statement was accompanied by a laugh.

Kenji could easily — in fact, completely — conclude that that voice belonged to an angel; even though he doesn't admit to being so religious, openly. — By having his eyes closed, in satisfied tiredness and drowsiness, he was more likely to believe in his conclusion.

Even in unpleasant, unstable situations and, insanely, worries about his life — like worrying about his stats in games, trying not to destroy the city while fighting some monster, and teaching Emi something practical and not blunt — and not wanting to hear or see nothing in front of him, Kenji had his refuge; a place to feel safe and at peace, at home.

“Ken…” — You voice pleaded, with more sweetness and, trying, to mix a little seriousness. In addition to moving between the thin, silky sheets of your body, wanting to get even closer to the boy.

In fact, he could melt into the bed, right there, just to hear your voice crying out to him like that.

Releasing a brief sigh, and pulling a breathing line, inhaling your scent, which was stuck to the pillow, Kenji tried to communicate with a mumble; which even he himself had no chance of understanding. — Perhaps, his consciousness still remained trapped in his sleep.

Because you found his action funny, your laugh, a little more hoarse, enveloped Ken's ears again; automatically forming a placid smile on his lips. — Moving his head, the young boy, with his eyes sensitive to the light, comes across your image resting on the pillow and covered, just enough, with the white sheet.

Sato was mentally grateful for the privilege of waking up every day with this vision.

"Good morning, my love." — You said, without holding back your wide smile; something that captivated and welcomed Ken's chest. — Your orbs moved, without haste or greed, across the boy's face, memorizing, for countless times, every little dot that existed in the region.

"Morning..." — He replied, followed by a yawn and another grumble; a sudden and unexpected movement was caused in the bed, obviously, it was the player's body snuggling against your. — Like he wants to fit in with you. — "What time is it please…?"

“Hm…” — Your eyes crossed the clock next to the bed. — “Soon, it will be 9:30.” — With his head buried in your neck, Sato let out a whimper, causing a tickle.

“It’s not possible…” — He complained, almost whimpering; as a sign of caress, your hand entered your lover's soft black hair, causing affection and tenderness.

The oldest settled down, and, briefly, relieving a growl, memorizing a purr; feeling on your skin, a satisfied smile adored by the attention. — A true paradise for young Sato and he had no problem admitting it.

“I think someone forgot about the interview they promised for today, right?” — He definitely forgets; by the way his head moved from where it was, and how wide his eyes were, Ken had nowhere to run. — “Yeah, you forgot.” — You raised one of your eyebrows.

“Wasn’t it due tomorrow?” — He questioned, still not believing and with some messy black locks standing out on her forehead. — “I’m sure i had it scheduled for tomorrow.” — He rushed into words. — “Actually, i’m not so sure.”

End of the season, therefore, decisive games for the team and more efforts towards a high level of dedication; it also meant several interviews and moments of questioning about the games, his teammates and his personal life. — Sato understood that it was important, of course, it was part of being a baseball star, however, when trying to balance his life as an Ultraman, a player and, recently, the father of a giant baby lizard, it wasn't such a simple thing.

He wasn't alone, not to mention Mina, and, thankfully, he had you by his side. — Trying, as much as possible, and persisting in helping him; even when, thinking about your care and certain risks, he warned you that he didn't need it. — Evidently, the guidelines were not followed, for a pleasant reason. — And now, seeing you taking care of Emi, as if she were your child, lit up Sato's eyes.

“It really is today, Ken.” — You confirmed it and, unsurprisingly, another wave of mumbles and incomprehensible words and rolled eyes. — “At least, it will be the last one before they enter the rest period.” — Your hand moved along Sato's long, strong, bare arm, reinforcing his attention.

“At least there is a bright side.” — He murmured, shaking his head, prolonging his thoughts, at the same time, reusing the contact of your hand against his skin. — “I need to take a break.” — He said, turning towards you. — “Urgently.” — Like a somewhat defenseless creature, he returned to his comfort, now, with his head under your chin.

"I know, honey." — Your fingers stroked Kenji's hair, for the second time, while his arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you, with the need to keep you close to him. — “And you will soon.” — Subtly, and delicately, your voice soothed him. — “Don’t worry about Emi, i’ll take care of her for today.” — Kenji thanked, once again and mentally. — “And maybe we’ll make a list of what we can do during these days off and she’ll go along with us.”

Your boyfriend's familiar, radiant laugh spread throughout the room, resounding in your chest. — For a short time, Kenji had understood his relationship with Emi and achieved a paternal image; visibly, it wasn't just him. — The small, and immense, baby witnessed you as a second mother.

“Yes, yes, of course.” — He pulled away, coming face to face with you, looking into your eyes, in pure ecstasy and passion. — “You’re the best, dear.” — Bringing his lips to your forehead, Kenji gave you a long, careful kiss.

[fortunapre]

PAIRING: hamzah x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you and hamzah have been close friends forever, but during one of your routine movie nights, things get heated and confessions are made…

WARNINGS: 18+, no piv, dry-humping, fingers do things, making out, cussing, female reader, mentions y/n

this was supposed to be fluffy but fortunately for you i think im ovulating

[PT. 1] _fortunapre’s.iphone.series_ 2.2k words

“First of all, what game are you playing?” You asked, grabbing both bowls of ice cream that you prepared and heading to the couch where you and Hamzah were watching Star Wars.

“Uh, does it matter? This is a once in a lifetime chance I'm giving you to be in my video!��� Hamzah teased, making a face like he thought you were insane.

You playfully hit his shoulder and laughed. “Well considering some of your videos are… questionable to say the least, I’m gonna need more context.”

Hamzah just spooned ice cream in his mouth and shrugged his shoulders. While you laughed and looked back towards the TV, he kept his eyes on you, admiring. Tonight was one of your guys’ monthly ice cream nights that you started since you met about 6 years ago. Ever since you were teenagers, you both have been side-by-side. The best of friends.

Hamzah took notice of your pajama shorts, large t-shirt, and messy hair. He had no idea how your most disheveled look still made him stare.

You felt his gaze and looked at him, but before you caught him, Hamzah looked back at the tv.

Now it was your turn to admire. Hamzah had always looked effortlessly hot in your eyes, but movie nights especially. Something about his careless look made your heartbeat a little faster. Like this view of him, in pajamas, with strands of dark, curly hair flying everywhere, was only made for you. Especially when he wore his glasses.

This secret staring match lasted the whole movie.

Usually, when movie night ended and the icecream was finished, Hamzah would talk a bit and then head home. It always killed him to leave you.

However, this time, Hamzah planned on telling you something he’d been hiding from since he met you. He wouldn’t back out of it this time

To stall, and make the night continue, he started with a simple converstation. “Wait, so do you want to be in the video or not, ‘cause I completely understand if it’s too much. I know me and Martin can get, like, kinda weird but it's what the viewers like so…”

Hamzah was rambling and you knew that if you didn’t stop him now he’d go on forever. You leaned over, and quickly put your hand over his mouth, shutting him up. You were both already situated with your legs basically pressed together, so reaching him was no problem.

“You’re rambling, Hamzah.” you laughed and kept your hand over his mouth. “And yeah I guess I’ll be in a video.” You tried to seem bossy by pointing a finger into his chest “But it we better be playing Sims or Episode.”

Then you realised just how many places you were touching him…

Teasing in your guys’ relationship was the norm, but recently, it has started to feel more like flirting than friendly teasing. There’s been a lot more… tension.

He stopped talking when you covered his mouth and smiled underneath your hand.

Recently, everything you do has felt more like flirting, now that you think about it.

At first it was innocent, a few touches and remarks, because it felt comfortable. Now, though, something hotter brimmed underneath everything.

Maybe you took it too far sometimes, with very obvious innuendos and such, but you couldn’t help yourself when it came to him. However, in the back of your mind, there was that voice reminding you that Hamzah is probably just being friendly and you were overthinking it.

You didn't want to take that chance, so you never brought up the obvious shift between you two.

You kept your hand on his mouth a bit longer than was probably normal, but the look that Hamzah was giving was almost magnetic. There was something in his eyes that was brand new, and raw. He lightly grabbed your wrist and moved to hold your hand instead, his eyes still locked on yours.

It was silent until he opened his mouth, deciding to speak up.

Now, Hamzah decided. Now he would tell you. “Y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to-”

“You should really start wearing your glasses more.” You winced internally at the accidental compliment/confession that slipped out.

“What?” He had a physical reaction to your sudden outburst and started laughing. “What’re you talking about? My glasses? What, why?” He seemed super nervous , and you could tell by his familiar awkward smirk from when we he’s flustered. If only he knew what that slight upturn of his lips did to you.

His laugh, your proximity to each other, and his just overall look meant your insides were basically jelly. He was still holding your hand, and once you realized it, the rosy blush spreading up your neck was inevitable.

“Don’t tease, you obviously know why.” You answered, looking away to try and hide the blush.

“Yeah?” He asked, in the most sensual voice you’ve ever heard from him, while looking down at your intertwined hands.

You were extremely surprised by the sudden deepness of his voice but decided to hide your reaction. Instead, you rolled your eyes and sat up to take your bowls to the sink. You needed to get away before you let your impulsive thoughts get the best of you.

He let you walk away, contrary to what his mind was reeling with, slowly dropping your hand as you moved away.

He watched you as you walked, with his eyes on the way your shorts were slightly riding up, and how your legs were on full display.

You set the dishes in the sink and turned to head back but were surprised with Hamzah’s towering figure.He followed you into the kitchen and was standing right infront of you. He was situated with one hand on the back counter and the other on the island, blocking your way out.

Instead of arguing, you just put a hand on your hip, and looked at him. Nervousness consumed your mind as you fully realized just how close to you Hamzah was standing. Instead of moving away, however, you stayed close, catching his familiar, minty scent. You looked back into his eyes-His eyes that held the exact same searing gaze as earlier. He seemed to make nonverbal promises. Of what? You weren’t sure but how he was looking was almost dirty.

“Y/n, what I was saying earlier…” Hamzah began again but briefly stopped for a second and looked at you expectantly.

“What?” You asked confusedly why he stopped.

“Oh, just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to rudely interrupt me again.”

You scoffed and faked hurt, “rudely?! I complimented you!”

“Yeah, I guess.” His smirk was back and his eyes were on yours. If it was anyone else, eye contact would have made you look away. Except Hamzah isn’t just anyone, and his eyes were like pools you could drown in.

He moved an inch closer, testing the waters. When he saw a slight pink to your cheeks at his closeness, he gained sudden confidence.

“Don’t let me leave tonight.” He suddenly spoke.

You were taken aback with his words, “What, like lock the doors? Are you going to transform at midnight or something?”

He let out a breathy laugh, but his tone never shifted.

“You know what I mean, Y/n.” A deep breath. “Let me stay. Let me show you what I…”

“Hamzah. Of course you can stay over. I’d never push you-”

“No, y/n that’s not…”

A beat of silence passed until you softly spoke up.

“What, Hamzah?”

“Let me show you what I think about everytime I’m near you.”

His words were ringing in your ears and your entire body almost had a physical reaction to what he was insinuating.

“Let me show you what I’ve been imagining for the past 5 damn years, Y/n.”

You were stunned, because 5 years? That’s almost for as long as you’ve known him.

“5 years…” You tested the words out loud and it was like an award winning melody to your ears.

“Yeah, 5 years. Actually scratch that. 6 years.” He stood closer, and spoke quieter. “Since I saw you for the first time I’ve been holding back from you. From admitting how I feel because I was afraid I might lose you.”

Like a dam, you broke. Anything along those lines were exactly what you’ve been wishing for, and here those words were, out in the open.

Finally,

You grabbed the front of his hoodie with surprising strength and pulled him down to your level.

Before you could follow through and kiss him, you just held his lips near yours instead.

You both shared one breath, staring at each others' lips. You stayed like this, too afraid to ruin the moment if you went too fast. Just the whisper of Hamzah’s lips against yours filled you with an insane amount of need.

However, Hamzah took the invite of your pouty lips and closed the distance for you.

Unable to contain the years of built up desire, you kiss his back. Hard.

He almost stumbles forward as you pull his hoodie closer to you. He smirks into the kiss at your eagerness and you swear that simple action could make you drop to your knees if he wasn’t holding your waist.

His fingers were digging into the fabric of your t-shirt, basically molding into your waist. It’s like you skipped the slow-getting-hotter part of the kiss and immediately skipped to fully making out.

Hamzah licked the inside of your mouth, making you release a quiet mewl from the back of your throat.

He parted from your lips, barely. Just enough distance to catch your breath before he dove back in. It was almost feral, the way he moved from your lips to your cheek to your jaw. He grabbed your upper thighs and lifted you up. Your immediate reaction was to wrap your legs around him and hold him as close as possible.

Right now, being chest-to-chest, literally holding one another wasn’t close enough.

He slowly carried you back to the couch while making small licks and bites along your throat.

He placed you on the couch and immediately followed, covering your body with his.

“Y/n…” He spoke your name with a deep rumble, into your shoulder before kissing your pulse under your jaw.

You unlatched your lips to take off his glasses and setting them beside you. You would have loved for him to keep them on but you could tell how annoyed he was getting with them when he tried to kiss you.

He watched your movement carefully, and let a mental picture of how hot you looked under him.

When you came back to him, he immediately put his lips back to the spot on your neck that he figured out was the sweet spot where you made the most noise.

“Hamzah..” you answered, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it up, signalling you want him to take it off.

“You sure?” He asked you, looking in your eyes for the first time since you started kissing. He took note of your red cheeks and matching swollen lips. He was so absolutely obsessed with you.

“Hamzah, If you couldn’t tell, I also have feelings for you and want you to go back to kissing me.” You teased him. “Without your shirt though” you smiled innocently and pulled his shirt up to reveal his chest.

“Such a smartass.” He smiled and pulled his shirt completely off and discarded it somewhere behind you. He was still smiling as he reconnected your lips, and the feel of his grin in your kiss made you smile as well.

The whole thing was unreal.

You felt so…happy in the moment, like nothing could compare. Like this is all you’d ever wanted and needed.

He slowly lifted the hem of your shirt as well, exposing your soft skin and thin bra. He could see the peaks of your nipples poking through the fabric and the image made him want to kiss every part of you he’s never seen.

To be truthful, any sight of you made him want to kiss you like that, but specifically right now, his pulse was very prominent in the lower part of his body from the current view.

You sunk your teeth lightly into his lower lip, and he replied by kissing you harder. He couldn’t hold back his desire at one point, when you started letting out breathy moans into his mouth- he jerked his hips against yours. You really felt just how much he needed you just then. The small pressure from his growing erection against you made you throw your head back and grind along lift your hips to meet his.

He started slowly grinding into you until you were full on dry-humping each other.

If Hamzah felt like this with clothes on, you only wondered what he felt like-

Your thoughts were interrupted by Hamzah grabbing your ass, then moving his hands along the back of your thighs. He lifted them up so you could wrap them around his back.

He rutted faster against you, and you swear you could feel his full length against you now. Your panties were soaked at this point and the wet spot growing on the front of his grey sweats showed that you had the same effect on him.

He sighed into your ear, both arms now propped on each side of your head. “Fuck, i’m gonna come in my pants from you, gorgeous.”

You let out a soft whine at the pet name and dragged your nails down his back, undoubtedly leaving scars. “Then just come like this, Hamzah. Show me what I mean to you. Like you prosmised.”

Erotic noises escaped your lips from the insane friction. You arched and dragged your hands back up his back and into his soft curls, tugging lightly.

“God, why haven’t we done this before” Hamzah sounded pained as he whispered, shutting his eyes tight from the upcoming sensation.

“I have no fucking idea. We were both too much of pussies to admit anything.” You replied in between short breaths.

He chuckled, but basically choked on his laugh when you reached into his pants to properly feel him.

“Yeah,” He agreed, and kissed you roughly, smashing his lips into yours and making your teeth clash at times.

“Fuck I’m..” You started to warn him, but he already knew.

“Me, too.”

He shifted the smallest bit but for some reason his new position made the friction ten times stronger. Hamzah’s hard bulge was hitting the perfect spot that made your panties rub against your clit in a way that made you gasp.

“Holy shit Hamzah” you gasped and arched your back to meet his chest. He laid more of his weight on yours, feeling your nipples through your bra.

“wait before we…” He looked you in your eyes and silently asked to take your bra off by slowly pulling down a strap from your shoulder.

“take it off of me, Hamzah.”

He wasted no time and took off your bra, exposing the peaks of your nipples. He immediately moved a hand to play with your breasts, giving each of them attention. “God, you're beautiful. even better than I imagined.”

His words made you want more so you arched you back again, making him shut his eyes tight at the friction.

“Fuck, baby,” he said softly.

He kept one hand next to your head, where he held himself up and moved the other from your breast to rub you through your shorts. “Hamzah please..please touch me”

He slipped a teasing finger past the waistband of your shorts. But you were done with foreplay and just needed him. His hand went past your underwear, finally reaching where you needed him.

He tested it by swiping two fingers along your folds.

“so wet f’me, yeah?”

“yeah…please Hamzah.”

“don’t worry baby.” At the same time he spoke he sunk two of his fingers into you, curling them at the perfect speed, while using his thumb to rub your clit.

how he was so good at this, you had no idea.

You wanted to please him as well, but when you looked at his tent, a wet spot was already extremely prominent.

“hey,” he turned your focus to him.

“Just let go baby. I'll come with you. seeing you like this….having you like this is already getting me off so bad.” his strokes became faster and your breathing got harder.

Before you could release, he took his fingers away and replaced them with rough grinding of his hips again.

Seconds later a feeling so strong washed over your body, draining you and your mind. Hamzah came right after you. The connected spot between you was soaking and warm with both of your come leaking through your pants.

“Jesus, Y/n if thats what its like with clothes on I can't wait until-”

“Yeah.” You laughed short with your eyes closed at the familiar words- he practically said out loud what you’d been thinking the whole time. “Trust me, I'm suddenly very impatient to find that out.” You admitted with a smile and opened you eyes, looking at him through your lashes.

Fucked out and sweaty Hamzah was breathtaking. And now he was yours to admire, without any secret staring.

Hamzah kissed you softly, still with passion but not as feverish. He slowly moved you both into a sitting position before he stood up with you in his hands.

“What are you doing?”

“What I said I would,” Is all he said. You were a bit confused until he spoke again.

“I'm gonna show you…” He kissed you long then finished his sentence. “I’m gonna show you i’ve imagined every fucking day.”

Your body grew immediately hot again.

“Alright. Show me.” You said quietly into his ear, nibbling it once as he carried you upstairs and into your bedroom. “But you might need to tell Martin your gonna film the video another day…”

He smiled big with his perfect teeth and shook his head with laughter.

He must be hallucinating because there’s no way he’s about to fuck the girl of his dreams.

a/n:

PT 2? Series mention list?

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you leave megumi with your husband so you can make them breakfast. you quickly realise that that might have backfired.

wc. around 1.3k

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama’ by both toji & megumi. half beta read.

“ow, careful there, brat.”

your husband’s deep voice echoes from within the bathroom. you’ve left megumi in his care this morning so you’d be able to make breakfast in peace. toji was all grumpy about it, since he had to wake up early when he had no work, but eventually agreed to your proposal.

you hum your favorite song while frying eggs. the sizzling in the pan did help avert your attention from toji’s grunts of annoyance somewhere in the distance, though only for a couple seconds. your hear your child’s laughter slip between the noises of aggravation. it piques your interest.

“one more time and i’m putting y’r ass in time out,” toji’s deep voice sounds muffled. he sounds rather serious about whatever is bothering him.

you turn the stove off and walk towards the hallway, standing at the doorframe as you look in the direction of the bathroom. you tilt your head and try your best to pick up on snippets of the conversation between your husband and son.

the sound of bottles dropping on the floor is the first thing that allows you to guess that megumi’s acting up. you know how mischievous your little toddler can get, especially at his age. toji isn’t one to gentle parent his kid—he tries to, of course, but sometimes he can’t help but be a bit rough.

“megumi fushiguro.”

you raise your eyebrows as toji uses your child’s full name. he rarely does, only when he’s really upset or about to lose his marbles. you decide to see what was going on for yourself. you walk towards the bathroom, cleaning your hands against the material of your apron. you knock once before pushing the door open.

you stick your head through the little gap, ready to identify the cause of the commotion. the first thing you notice is the chaos on the floor; bottles, tubes, toothbrushes, and all other kinds of products lay cluttered on the bathroom tiles.

your eyes then land on your husband’s broad and scarred back, “hey, honey. did something hap—”

your voice trails off once toji turns around, revealing the jaw dropping scene. nearly his entire face is covered in loads of shaving cream and even his black hair hasn’t escaped the soft foam.

the bathroom counter is completely wet, and the water runs down the edges in small drops. the culprit of this entire scene is sitting right on that same counter, clapping his dirty hands together that were smeared with toji’s shaving cream.

you blink and walk towards the two. you can’t possibly be mad at the sight, finding toji’s situation more funny than worrisome. You try to act serious and clear your throat, “uh, yeah. so what’s happened here?”

your husband rolls his eyes and nods his head at the little boy in front of him, who’s giggling and kicking his legs. toji tries to wipe the shaving cream from his nose, attempting to get it out of his hair as well, “i tried to be a good dad and include him in my morning routine, that’s what.”

the man clicks his tongue as he now realises how dumb of a mistake that was, “gave him the opportunity to put some shaving foam on my jaw ‘n the brat totally blew it. started attackin’ me with the stuff.”

toji grumbles. he wipes away the foam that got on the mirror afterwards. it’s nearly gotten everywhere. he lightly nudges megumi’s forehead with a scoff, “never again, y’hear? the little shit can’t sit still for even one second.”

that explains the stuff on the floor. you know that megumi could grow bored easily if he isn’t the centre of attention. he’d start doing anything to be the focus of his parents. toji probably didn’t pay him much mind, wanting to get his morning routine over with.

“language, honey.” you sigh and look down at megumi who’s still reaching his messy hands up to his dad.

toji huffs and leans back, not giving the little boy a chance to put more shaving cream on his face. he’s learnt his lesson; kids do not understand it when you tell them to ‘only put a little bit’.

megumi whines and threatens to throw a tantrum. you notice that immediately and try to keep his mind off things by picking him up. you turn on the faucet and try to wash his little hands, “c’mon. give mama your hands.”

the little boy shakes his head furiously, squirming in your embrace in attempt to get away. you sigh and grab his little wrists gently. you lower him to the sink, trying your best to wash away the shaving cream as the first step of solving this grande mess.

“no, mama!” megumi is stubborn as he voices his complains. toji watches from a distance whilst he struggles to clean the overload of shaving cream from his face.

you make the mistake of letting go of your child’s wrists to grab a washcloth. megumi takes his chance and pats his messy hands against your face, leaving you no space to process what he’s doing.

your mind takes a second before you realise what’s happening, “hey! quit it, ‘gumi.”

you try to grab ahold of megumi’s tiny hands again, but they move too fast for you. plus, he’s pretty skilled at avoiding yours. you can feel the foam slowly cover your entire face; from your jaw and cheeks, to your nose and forehead.

it was inevitable at this point.

“toji, do something,” you grunt and struggle to contain the energetic toddler in your arms. you take a peek at your husband and find him grinning at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

toji simply shrugs and enjoys the fact that you’re experiencing exactly what he had experienced just moments ago. seeing you struggle to contain your disobedient child only proves that his parenting skills are not the problem in this situation, your toddler is.

“ye did that to y’rself, mama.” toji hums in amusement. he leans against the wall, the blue towel now loosely hanging off head after he’s given up on getting the foam out of his hair, “now y’know what i’m talkin’ about. he’s a lil’ monster.”

megumi squeals in victory after he’s gotten both his parents covered in shaving cream. you want to say something to your child, but you’re at a loss for words. even now, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at him. he’s just a kid who’s having fun with his parents.

“i made mama pretty! hehe.” megumi grins and encourages you to look in the mirror. he points at your reflection and awaits the words of confirmation. his blue eyes look up at you, nearly sparkling with joy, admiring how pretty he’s made you look with that white foam all over your face.

toji joins in on the fun. he comes to stand behind you, looking at you through the mirror. he snickers, already forgotten about his irritations that occurred in the first place. he nods in approval at megumi’s words, “gotta agree, son. y’r mama looks much prettier like this.”

your husband’s teasing comment adds fuel to the fire. though again, you cannot bring yourself to be upset at the situation.

you look at the reflection in the dirty mirror. you all may appear disheveled due to the foamy mess on your bodies—and yet even at that moment—the only thing you actually manage to see is a happy family of three.

[dixons-sunshine]

Improvement | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: After starting a playful argument with your partner about not knowing whether or not he had improved since you two first slept together all those years ago—which you knew he had, you were just messing with him—Daryl decided to take matters into his own hands.

Era: Alexandria, can be any time post Saviour war.

Genre: Smut.

Warnings: Porn without plot, basically, soft sex (I think), unprotected p in v, swearing, dirty talk, praise, others I am probably missing.

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: So...hi lol. I haven’t written anything in over three weeks, so this was long overdue. This was mainly written for practice because I am not that confident in my smut writing skills, but I hope you all like this! And thank you so much to @dixonsdarkelf for being a second set of eyes 💜

The sound of soft gasps and groans filled the air in the bedroom. The sun had begun its descent into the horizon, illuminating the room in a way that gave the atmosphere a more romantic feel. The room was warm, the summer heat clinging to every atom it could. However, the heat in the room did not compare to the warmth of the archer on top of you.

Daryl’s warm, solid body pressed against yours, his bare chest nearly flush against yours, your breasts moving with each thrust of his hips. His face was buried in your neck, his breathing heavy and erratic, his eyes closed as he relished the feeling of pure, utter bliss that washed over his body. Your moans and gasps of pleasure reached his ears with each snap of his hips against yours, and that sound was like music.

“Oh, Daryl,” you drawled your partner’s name, your voice several octaves higher than usual. Daryl’s dick dragged against your walls deliciously, hitting that one spot inside of you that he knew well. “Oh god, just like that.”

“Yeah?” Daryl whispered into your ear, breathless and panting. He snapped his hips against yours, his cock hitting that spot once more, and it tore a breathless ‘Daryl’ from your chest. Soft, almost asking, begging, pleading for him to get you over that edge in the way that only he could. “Y’like that, Sweetheart?”

You nodded frantically, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he picked up his pace, going a little faster, a little harder, a little deeper. “Yes,” you whined, your fingers tangling in his brown locks. “Jesus Christ, please don’t stop.”

“Not even if the world was endin’,” Daryl promised you. He pulled his head up from your neck, only to then lower it back down to capture your lips with his for a messy but absolutely perfect kiss.

If it were any other situation, you would make a joke about what he said. Probably say something along the lines of “well the world already ended.” But not now. Not while he was making you feel so good. Not while you were steadily approaching that edge, getting ready to dive headfirst off of it, right into the pool of immense pleasure.

Without breaking the kiss, and without letting his pace falter, Daryl snuck one of his hands down your body, gliding lower and lower, softly kneading at your flesh along the way, until it reached its destination. Daryl smirked slightly against your lips when he gently pressed his thumb against your clit, loving the way your body responded to his touch.

Not missing a beat, he began rubbing slow, tight circles against the little bundle of nerves, his kisses trailing from your mouth to your cheek, your jaw, down your neck to your collarbone. The urge to mark you was strong, but he resisted. You were going on a run that following day, with people in the group who would be relentless in their teasing if they saw hickeys on you. Because of that, his teeth only lightly nipped at your flesh, enough to cause pressure but not enough to leave a mark.

“Oh my—oh my god.” The sounds that escaped your mouth were downright pornographic. Your mind was clouded, that coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. You weren’t going to last much longer, that you knew for certain.

Daryl groaned when you lightly tugged his hair, his breath hitching at the feeling of you clenching on his cock, squeezing him, a sign that you were at your peak. You just needed that little push to fully let go.

“Come on, Sweetheart,” Daryl whispered into your ear, pressing a tender kiss to the skin there. “Let go f’me. Wanna feel you.”

Almost as if his words were the key to unlock the metaphorical gate, the coil in your stomach snapped. Waves upon waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure washed over you. You arched your back and let your hands fall to Daryl’s shoulders, gripping them to try and ground yourself as your orgasm continued to take over your body. Soft whimpers spewed from your lips, muffled only by the archer kissing you once more. You could taste the faint linger of the cigarette he had earlier on his tongue, mixed with the flavour of the whiskey he had drunk before this. There was something else as well, something you could not quite make out, but that wasn’t important.

When the fog in your mind cleared just enough for you to be lucid, you detached your lips from his and focused on Daryl. His brow was furrowed, quiet grunts slipping past his lips as his thrusts grew sloppier, but his pace sped up. He was close. You knew it. You could practically feel it.

“You close, Baby?” you asked breathlessly, leaning up slightly to press your lips to his jaw. “You gonna let go for me this time?” Your lips moved lower, lightly nipping at the flesh beneath his jaw and smirking slightly when Daryl muttered a quiet fuck. “Come on, Dar.”

With one, two, three more thrusts, Daryl came undone. He snapped his hips forward, locking himself there as he spilled deep inside of you, small, quiet curses spilled past his lips. The archer dropped his head to rest against your shoulder, his body shaking and his mind clouding up in the best way possible.

You were breathless, still coming down from your own euphoric high as you held Daryl, your fingers gliding through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp as they went. The huntsman was panting, his eyes screwed shut and holding his body weight up with his shaking arms, trying his hardest not just to collapse on top of you.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, just basking in each other’s presence and slowly coming back to reality. It was peaceful, quiet, except for the sound of your erratic breathing that was beginning to even out.

You were the first to break the silence. “Wow.”

That made Daryl chuckle. He lifted his head and gazed down at you, his beautiful ocean-like eyes scanning over your face. Even after all these years together, after many times of being in this exact position, Daryl could never get over how absolutely gorgeous you looked post orgasm, how you seemed to positively glow. “Yeah. Wow.”

You raised your hand and gently cupped Daryl’s cheek, a lazy, contented smile on your face. “I love you.”

A small, genuine smile graced the archer’s features. He turned his head and pressed a tender kiss to your wrist. “Love ya too.”

Slowly and carefully, he gently eased his cock out of you, and you instantly missed the feeling of him. However, your heart swelled with love when you saw Daryl reached for his discarded shirt on the floor, using it as a makeshift rag and gently cleaning you up. When he was done, he flopped down on the bed next to you, opening his arms so that you could snuggle into his chest, which you did.

With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes. However, Daryl’s voice cut through the air before you could begin to drift off.

“Y’think I’ve improved?”

Laughing lightly, thoughts of your earlier playful argument surfaced to the forefront of your mind, the very reason you both were here at that moment. “Yeah,” you mused. “You have definitely improved since our first time.”

Daryl hummed, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “Told ya so.”

“Oh I know you’ve improved. I was just joking around earlier,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his chest. “And I was hoping that it would rile you up so that this could happen.”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed again. “You could’a jus’ asked.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” you joked. “Seeing you all riled up…it’s hot as fuck.”

Daryl scoffed, but that small smile didn’t falter. “If ya say so.”

[oldsoul007]

dirty cash

rich!joel miller x younger reader

summary: After a reckless hookup leaves you buying a pregnancy test in a pharmacy, the last person you expect to run into is your father’s wealthy but quietly tortured friend, Joel Miller—sparking a forbidden, dangerously irresistible affair where passion, power, and vulnerability collide.

a/n: reader and joel smoke, kissing, suggestive scenes, wholesome, 20 year age gap, i’ve been deep in writers block so I’d love some request!!

joel miller masterlist

It’s probably nothing.

That’s what I keep telling myself as I stand under the aggressive fluorescent lights of the pharmacy, staring down an entire wall of pregnancy tests like one of them might have the courtesy to jump into my hand and handle the situation for me.

“Which one do you want?” Ani’s voice is dry as she squats down to examine the shelves like she’s choosing a bottle of champagne. “The one that’s ‘99% accurate’ or the one that costs five dollars less?”

“I don’t know.” My arms are crossed, jaw tight. “Is there one that says ‘this is just a late period and not the worst mistake of my life’?”

Ani snorts and stands, grabbing two boxes. “This one says it’s easy to read, so maybe you won’t have to Google it when you’re sobbing on the bathroom floor.”

“Touching,” I deadpan, snatching the box from her hand.

Ani grins, brushing her dark hair over her shoulder. “I’m just saying—you always get like this when you’re stressed. Remember when we thought I were pregnant that one time in college and it turned out I’d just been living off coffee and vodka cranberries for three weeks?”

“This isn’t college.” I turn the box over in my hands, stomach twisting. My nails dig into the cardboard.

Ani drops her voice, leaning in close. “Okay, but even if you are…” She shrugs. “You’d handle it. You’re not seventeen. You’ve got your own place, a job, your shit’s together.”

“Do I?” I ask, biting back a nervous laugh. “I don’t even remember his name.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s fair.” Ani smirks. “But in your defense, he was hot.”

“Not helpful.”

“You’re right. My bad.”

I exhale sharply, shifting the test from one hand to the other. Ani’s already moving toward the register when I hear it—

“Y/n?”

Fuck.

My heart drops into my stomach. Because I know that voice. Low, slow, rough around the edges—like honey poured over gravel.

I turn, already knowing what I’m about to see.

And there he is.

Joel Miller. Standing in the middle of the pharmacy aisle, looking devastatingly expensive in a black cashmere sweater and tailored jeans that sit obscenely well on his hips. His dark hair is messy but intentional, streaked with silver. His watch—Rolex, of course—catches the light. But it’s his eyes that undo me: dark, sharp, locked on the bright pink box in my hand.

He wasn’t like the men I usually met in Manhattan—the ones who talked too much about stocks and barely knew how to hail their own cab. No, Joel was different. He had built his wealth rather than inherited it, and he carried himself with the kind of quiet confidence that made men respect him and women—well, women wanted him.

My throat dries out.

“Joel,” I say, too bright, too casual. “Hey.”

His gaze flicks from the box to my face. His jaw tightens. “Hey.”

I tuck the box behind my back like that’s going to erase the last five seconds. “Just… picking up a few things.”

Joel’s mouth opens—then closes. His eyes drag down my body, slow and deliberate. That heat—the one that’s always been there—creeps into my chest.

Joel’s jaw ticks. “You okay?”

I force a laugh. “Yeah! Just—y’know.” I gesture vaguely toward the shelves. “Girl stuff.”

Joel’s eyes darken. “Girl stuff.”

Ani coughs to cover a laugh.

My face burns. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Joel’s voice drops, low and dangerous. “’Cause if you’re not—”

“Joel.” My voice comes out sharper than I intend.

His mouth presses into a thin line.

It’s too much. Him standing there, in his cashmere and leather, watching me, piecing it together. I feel naked under the weight of his gaze, exposed in a way that makes my heart pound for all the wrong reasons.

Or maybe the right ones.

Ani steps in. “Well, we should go!” She grabs my arm, steering me toward the register like she’s dragging me out of a bar at last call.

“Y/n,” Joel says quietly.

I freeze.

His eyes drop to the test again, then back to my face. His jaw tightens, something dangerous flickering in his expression. His shoulders square like he’s already figuring out whose name he’s going to have to track down if that test comes back positive.

“If you need anything,” he says, voice low and steady, “you know where to find me.”

I swallow hard.

“See you around,” I manage, and then Ani’s tugging me away.

I don’t look back. But I feel his eyes on me the whole way out.

—

“False alarm,” I mutter.

Ani’s brows lift. “Started?”

“Yep.” I close my eyes, letting my head fall back. “I hate being a woman.”

Ani grins. “Oh, thank God. You’re off the hook.”

I shoot her a look. “Gee, thanks.”

Ani shrugs, sitting up and tucking her legs beneath her. “Look at the bright side. No baby. No weird hookup drama. Just your regularly scheduled period-induced misery.”

“Comforting,” I say flatly.

Ani gives me a sly smile. “Although…”

I groan. “What?”

“You could just avoid all this stress in the future by hooking up with someone a little more… reliable.”

My eyes narrow. “Ani.”

She leans toward me, eyes glinting. “Someone… older.”

“Ani.”

“Someone who clearly already cares about you.”

“Ani.”

She grins. “Joel.”

I nearly choke. I sit up so fast my stomach cramps harder. “Are you insane?”

Ani shrugs. “I’m just saying. He’s hot.”

“He’s my dad’s friend,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, and?” Ani leans back on the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. “Didn’t stop him from looking at you like that at the pharmacy.”

She leans forward, eyes narrowing with that mischievous glint she gets when she’s about to push me into something uncomfortable. “Okay, but—let’s think about this. You’re not a kid anymore. You can make your own choices. And yeah, he’s older, but I swear, that man is just your type. You two have this thing. You’ve always had it.”

“Stop.” I throw my hands up in a half-joking, half-serious gesture. “No. Just no. He’s a friend of the family. That’s not even on the table.”

Ani tilts her head, sizing me up. “Sure, sure. But it’s not like you’ve never wanted it. And let’s face it, y/n—when it comes to guys, you usually go for the one who’s unpredictable. Maybe Joel’s exactly the guy you need right now. I mean, come on, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

I roll my eyes, standing up to pace a little, trying to shake the idea out of my head. “I’m not dating him, Ani. It’s not happening.”

Ani’s voice is a little quieter now, but I can hear the knowing smile behind it. “I’m just saying—maybe you should think about it. You don’t have to rush into anything, but you’ve been dancing around this for so long. Why not just see where it goes?”

I stop pacing, my hands still on my hips as I take in her words. The idea is… tempting, but I can’t. “It’s complicated. You don’t get it. He’s not like everyone else, Ani. He’s Joel.”

She shrugs, unfazed. “Exactly. He’s Joel. And that’s what makes it interesting.”

I sit back down on the couch, rubbing my temples. “I’m not going there. End of story.”

Ani leans back, giving me a sly grin. “We’ll see. We’ll see.”

I try to dismiss it, but as much as I tell myself no, the idea lingers, just a little. Because deep down, I know Ani’s not entirely wrong.

—

The thing about New York is that no one ever expects to run into someone at the most inconvenient times.

It’s a Friday evening, and the streets of Manhattan are alive with people in their after-work hustle, lights flashing from the windows of bars and restaurants like neon beacons in the dark. I’m walking down the block, heading to my favorite sushi spot, when I spot him.

Of course.

Joel Miller, standing on the corner of the street, waiting for the light to change. He’s in a perfectly tailored black coat, dark slacks, the kind of man who belongs in a city where money talks and time doesn’t. I see him before he sees me, and for a second, I wonder if I should just turn around and make a run for it. But no, that would be too easy.

“Y/n?”

Shit.

I take a breath, turning around with an exaggeratedly calm smile. “Joel.”

His gaze immediately sharpens, the same intense look that makes my heart jump into my throat. I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he could hear the rapid beat of it from across the street.

“Hey,” he says, his voice a little rougher than usual. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Well, you know New York.” I joke, trying to sound like I’m not totally thrown off. “City’s small. You’re bound to bump into people.”

His eyes flicker down to my hand, like he’s still waiting for me to be clutching a pregnancy test like some kind of urban myth.

I clear my throat. “Just to clarify—I’m not pregnant.” I say it almost too fast.

Joel raises an eyebrow, lips curling slightly in amusement. “Well, that’s good to hear.” There’s a pause, a quiet beat that hangs between us, before he steps a little closer, lowering his voice. “I wasn’t really sure how to feel about that whole situation.”

I blink. “What do you mean?”

Joel shrugs, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. “You just looked… different that day. A little more than stressed.” He watches me closely, his eyes never leaving mine. “I didn’t want to step in and make it worse.”

I look away, trying to hide the flush creeping up my neck. “Well, you didn’t. I was just… overthinking everything. It’s a thing I’m really good at.”

“I’ve noticed.” His voice is lighter now, like he’s teasing me in that way he does when he’s not sure if he should be serious or not.

I bite my lip, a grin slipping onto my face before I can stop it. “I wasn’t exactly planning on running into you again, you know.”

“Right.” He chuckles, but it’s the kind of laugh that sounds like he’s holding something back.

“So…” I drag the word out, feeling the weight of the moment settle around us. “Are you just wandering the streets of New York on a Friday night or do you have somewhere important to be?”

He looks at me with that knowing smirk. “A little bit of both.” He glances down the block, then back at me. “I’m headed to a meeting. But honestly…” He hesitates, as if weighing something. “I could always use a distraction.”

My stomach flips at his words, but I try to play it cool. “A distraction, huh? How convenient. I happen to be a very good distraction.”

Joel steps closer, his voice dropping lower. “I’m sure you are.” His gaze holds mine for a second too long, making everything inside me feel like it’s melting, a tight knot loosening in my chest.

I clear my throat again. “Well, if you’re free after your meeting, maybe we could catch up over a drink. Talk about, you know, how I’m definitely not pregnant.”

Joel’s lips twitch in that infuriating way he has when he’s fighting a grin. “Sounds like a good time.”

“Good,” I reply, trying to sound nonchalant, though I can feel the electric buzz between us, like everything’s about to go off the rails. “Call me. I’ll be around.”

“I will.” His gaze softens just a little before he turns, and as he walks away, I can’t help but watch him go. The tension that’s been there between us—it’s still there, maybe stronger than before.

And I think, for the first time, I might actually be okay with it.

—

Later that night, after a few too many glasses of drinks and some laughter-filled catching up with Ani, I find myself at home, flipping through the pages of a magazine I’ve barely been able to focus on. My mind keeps drifting. Should I reach out to Joel? Should I wait for him to make the first move?

Before I can talk myself out of it, the phone rings, cutting through the silence of my apartment. I glance at it without thinking, and my heart skips.

Joel.

I answer quickly, trying to sound casual. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, his voice low and easy, just like it always is. “You free for that drink?”

A rush of excitement hits me, surprising myself with how quickly I want to say yes. “Absolutely.”

“Good. I’ll be there in a few.” I put the phone down, a grin pulling at the corners of my lips.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m stepping out of my building and into the sleek black car waiting at the curb. The door is already open for me, the driver standing by with a polite nod, but my attention is drawn straight to the man inside.

Joel sits in the backseat, legs spread comfortably, a whiskey-colored gaze flicking up from where he’s been nursing a drink. He looks effortless—one arm resting against the door, the other hand wrapped around a heavy glass. His jacket is slung over the seat beside him, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, watch glinting in the low light.

“Fancy,” I say as I slide in beside him, smoothing down my dress.

“Figured I’d make it easy for you,” he drawls, offering me a drink from the little bar built into the side panel. “That, and I like havin’ you in my car.”

My stomach does something stupid at that. I take the glass from him, clinking mine against his before taking a sip. The car glides through the city, moving like the night belongs to us.

The bar he takes me to is nothing like the places I usually end up in. It’s tucked away on some quiet street, dimly lit with dark wood and low jazz humming from unseen speakers. The kind of place where people don’t come to get drunk; they come to drink.

Joel guides me through the space with an easy familiarity, his hand resting lightly against my lower back as he leads me to a quiet booth.

“Didn’t peg you as a cocktail bar guy,” I tease, glancing at the menu.

He smirks, signaling the bartender with two fingers. “I’m not. Just figured you’d like it.”

I bite back my smile.

Drinks arrive, and the conversation comes easy, like it always does with him.

But then—

“So,” Joel says, swirling the amber in his glass. “You gonna tell me who the guy is?”

I freeze for half a second, but he catches it. His gaze sharpens just slightly.

I roll my eyes, playing it off. “What guy?”

His lips twitch like he knows I’m full of shit. “C’mon, sweetheart. Ain’t dumb. You had a reason for buyin’ that test.”

Heat crawls up my neck. I sip my drink, willing the subject to dissolve. “Joel.”

His expression shifts, something unreadable there. But he doesn’t push. Just leans back in the booth, watching me.

I exhale, deciding to change the subject completely. “You always take women here?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You always deflect?”

I grin, tipping my glass toward him. “Maybe.”

Joel chuckles, shaking his head, and just like that, the tension shifts. The air between us settles into something familiar, charged but unspoken.

We talk about other things—his latest project, my work, New York’s ever-present bullshit. But there’s something lingering beneath it all, in the way his fingers graze mine when I reach for my drink, in the way his eyes linger on my mouth when I speak.

It’s always been like this with us.

The drinks keep coming, smooth and slow, and the conversation drifts into something heavier without either of us meaning it to.

Joel leans back, one arm slung over the booth, rolling his glass between his fingers. “Ever think about leavin’?”

I blink, caught off guard. “New York?”

He nods, gaze steady. “The city. Work. All of it.”

I scoff lightly, but there’s no real bite to it. “Where would I go?”

“Anywhere.”

It’s such a simple answer, but the way he says it, so sure, makes something tighten in my chest.

I glance down at my drink, swirling the last of the amber liquid. “I don’t know. I love it here, but… sometimes it feels like too much, y’know?” I meet his eyes, watching the way he listens, really listens. “Like you can’t breathe without the city pushing in on you.”

Joel hums, nodding slowly. “Yeah. Know that feeling.”

I tilt my head. “So why are you still here?”

His lips quirk, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Same reason as everyone else, I guess.” He lifts his glass slightly. “Money. Work. Habit.”

“That’s depressing.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Little bit.”

I study him for a moment, my head buzzing just enough to loosen the words sitting heavy on my tongue. Slowly, I shift under the table, lifting my foot and pressing it lightly against his leg. A small touch, but intentional. His fingers still on his glass.

“What would you do if you left?”

Joel leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. His fingers graze the rim of his glass as he thinks, really thinks, like no one’s ever asked him before.

“Dunno.” His voice is quieter now, like he’s admitting something he’s never said out loud. “Find some place quieter. Somewhere no one gives a shit who I am or what I got. Build somethin’ for myself.” He smirks a little, but there’s a sadness behind it. “Guess I never really let myself think about it.”

I watch him, my fingers toying with the condensation on my glass. “You still could.”

His eyes flick to mine, unreadable, like he’s trying to decide if I mean it.

Something shifts between us, heavy and unspoken.

Joel exhales, tipping his head toward me. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ever think about somethin’ different?”

I chew my lip, considering. “Maybe.” I glance around the bar, the dark wood, the quiet hum of conversation. “But I think I’d miss it.”

Joel watches me, something warm in his gaze. “Yeah.” He nods slowly. “Reckon I’d miss you too.”

The words slip out so easily, so casually, that I almost don’t catch them. But I do.

My breath catches slightly, my fingers stilling against my glass. Joel just watches me, calm, steady, like he’s giving me a second to let it sink in.

And then, before I can overthink it, I knock back the rest of my drink and grin. “You getting sentimental on me, Miller?”

His smirk is slow, lazy. “Maybe.”

I roll my eyes, but the warmth lingers.

The game continues.

The night stretches on, slow and easy, the drinks disappearing as the city hums outside the bar’s fogged-up windows. The conversation shifts—back to old stories, to things we shouldn’t say but do anyway.

At some point, I feel the weight of Joel’s hand on the back of the booth, close enough that if I just leaned back a little, I’d be resting against him. I resist the urge, barely.

“It’s late,” I murmur, glancing at the time.

Joel takes a slow sip of his drink, his gaze steady on mine. “You in a hurry?”

“No,” I admit.

He smirks. “Didn’t think so.”

The tension between us tightens, thick like smoke curling in the air. We both feel it—always have. It’s in the way I play with the rim of my glass, in the way his fingers drum idly against the table like he’s working through something in his head.

When we finally leave, the night is warm, the city alive with its usual buzz. The car is waiting, sleek and polished under the streetlights. Joel opens the door for me, and I hesitate just long enough for him to notice.

“You comin’?” His voice is low, rough.

I should go home. I should get out now, before this turns into something. Instead, I slide inside.

Joel follows, the door shutting with a quiet click. The car pulls away from the curb, and suddenly, we’re alone in the dark, the city slipping past in a blur of neon and street lamps.

I exhale slowly, the leather cool beneath my fingertips.

Joel watches me, silent for a long beat. Then—

“Where to?” he asks, his voice deliberate. The question hangs there, waiting. I don’t answer right away. I don’t need to. Joel just nods, like he already knows. And then the car changes direction.

His apartment is everything I expect it to be—too big, too nice, too quiet. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across the main living space, giving a view of the city that most people only dream of. The kind of place that feels like money, like success, like someone who’s worked too hard for too long and now doesn’t know how to sit still.

Joel shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto a leather chair. His gaze flicks to me, dark and unreadable.

“You want another drink?”

I shake my head, stepping toward the window, pressing my fingertips against the cool glass. The city sparkles beneath me, the streets moving like veins through the night.

Joel moves behind me, slow and steady. When I turn, he’s closer than I expect, the space between us suddenly small.

For a second, neither of us speaks. Then, his fingers graze my wrist, barely there. I look up at him, breath catching in my throat. His voice is quiet when he finally says, “Tell me to stop.” I don’t. Instead, I close the space between us.

The bedroom is dark, the city lights bleeding through the curtains.

It’s slow, at first. Me, still trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing. Him, patient in a way I didn’t expect. But when his hands find my waist, when his lips press against the curve of my neck, when I sigh his name into the quiet—

His lips brush mine, hesitant, like he’s waiting for me to stop this before it starts. But I don’t. I can’t. I just tilt my chin up, pressing my mouth fully to his, and he exhales against me like he’s been holding his breath.

Joel’s hands slide up my back, slow and steady, as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to taste me fully. His mouth is warm, careful, his touch reverent, like he wants to make sure I want this just as much as he does. And I do. God, I do.

I thread my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, pressing myself against him. He groans, low in his throat, like he’s barely holding on. His hands tighten at my hips before one of them slides up my spine, dragging me further into him, chest to chest, breath to breath.

He moves like he wants to savor me. Like he wants to take his time, to make this last.

Joel presses me down into the bed, his body warm and solid against mine, his hands framing my face as his mouth claims me in a slow, consuming kiss. It’s deep, deliberate, like he’s savoring every second, like he’s memorizing the shape of my lips against his.

“You sure about this?” he murmurs, voice rough, edged with something vulnerable.

I nod, brushing my lips against his. “Yes.”

That’s all he needs.

Joel undresses me with the kind of patience that makes my skin burn, like he’s committing every inch of me to memory. He trails his fingers over my bare skin, tracing the curve of my waist, the dip of my spine, his touch reverent.

His fingers skim down my sides, mapping every inch of bare skin, rough but reverent. When I arch beneath him, chasing his touch, he exhales sharply, like he’s been holding something in for too long.

“Joel,” I breathe, my hands fisting in his shirt, tugging him closer, needing him closer.

He groans against my throat, his teeth scraping lightly before he soothes the spot with his lips. “You don’t know what you do to me baby,” he mutters, voice thick, almost strained.

I do, though—I can feel it in the way his body moves against mine, in the way his breath stutters when my nails drag down his back.

His hand slides up my thigh, pushing fabric aside, and his mouth finds mine again, hungrier this time.

And when we finally come together, it’s nothing like I expected.

It’s deeper.

Slower.

Like he wants me to feel it.

Like he wants me to know this isn’t just a night to him.

And as I meet his gaze in the dim light of the room, as his fingers intertwine with mine, I realize something terrifying.

Neither is it to me.

Later, when the sheets are tangled around us and the air still smells like sex and expensive cologne, we lie in the dark, passing a cigarette back and forth.

I slip out of bed and pull on his dress shirt. I pad barefoot to the balcony, lighting a cigarette with shaking fingers.

The city stretches out below, golden and endless. The dead of night in New York is never really dead—it hums, it moves, it waits.

Joel joins me a minute later, shirtless, sweat still cooling on his skin. He takes the cigarette from my fingers, taking a slow drag before exhaling right in my face.

The smoke curls into the air in a perfect ring.

I giggle, waving it away. “Show-off.”

He smirks, watching me through the haze. “Didn’t mean to.” I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, sure. Just a natural talent, huh?”

He chuckles, flicking the ash over the edge of the balcony. “Tryin’ to quit.” I steal the cigarette back from his fingers, taking a drag myself. “Yeah? How’s that workin’ out for you?”

Joel tilts his head, eyes dragging over me, slow and deliberate. Then he leans in, close enough that I can feel the warmth of him, the tease of a smirk on his lips.

—

The date wasn’t even my idea.

Ani had set it up weeks ago, probably thinking I needed a distraction. And then, of course, she forgot to cancel.

So here I am, sitting across from a guy named Ryan, who is perfectly nice. Perfectly normal. I swirl the last sip of my drink in my glass, barely listening as he talks about something work-related. Maybe stocks. Or real estate. Or his incredibly riveting trip to Aspen.

I’m about to excuse myself to the bathroom when the waitress appears with a fresh drink and sets it down in front of me.

But then—

A drink lands in front of me.

I blink, glancing up at the waitress. She smiles and sets down a glass of a Cosmopolitan. The same drink I ordered that night with Joel. I frown. “Oh, I didn’t order this.”

“The gentleman at the bar sent it,” she says, tipping her head toward the far side of the room.

And when I look—

Joel. Sitting alone, leaned back in his chair, watching me. Heat crawls up my spine, a mix of irritation and something I refuse to name. I exhale sharply, already irritated.

“Excuse me,” I mutter to Ryan, grabbing the drink and making my way over.

Joel doesn’t look surprised when I place the glass down in front of him with a soft clink.

I cross my arms. “What the hell are you doing?” He looks up at me, completely at ease. “Drinkin’.” I narrow my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

He gestures to the glass. “Just bein’ polite.”

“By sending me a drink when I’m clearly on a date?”

He shrugs, gaze flicking over to Ryan for a beat before meeting mine again. “Didn’t look like you were enjoyin’ yourself.”

I let out a sharp breath. “Oh, and you think you know when I’m enjoying myself?”

Joel’s lips twitch, eyes dragging down my frame, then back up again. “Yeah. I think I do.”

A heat rises in my chest. I shake my head, ignoring it. “You’re unbelievable.”

Joel leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Leave with me.”

It’s so direct, so him, that it knocks the wind right out of me. I grip the back of the chair in front of me, heart hammering.

God, part of me wants to.

Instead, I take the drink, place it back in front of him, and meet his gaze. “Enjoy your drink, Joel.”

Then I turn on my heel and walk back to my date.

I can feel him watching me the entire way back.

—

Every single one that passes is either full or just doesn’t bother stopping.

I sigh, hugging my coat tighter around myself, feeling the lingering annoyance from earlier. The date had been uneventful. The only thing remotely interesting about the night was Joel showing up and acting like he had a right to interfere.

And now, here I am, standing alone, wet, and stranded.

A black car rolls up to the curb in front of me, sleek and unmistakable. The window rolls down.

Joel. Of course.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at me, his elbow resting against the door, fingers brushing his mouth like he’s trying to hide a smirk.

I exhale sharply. “Are you following me now?”

He tilts his head, expression unreadable. “Get in.”

I should say no. I should roll my eyes and keep waiting for a cab. I should ignore the way my pulse jumps at the way he says it, low and easy, like it’s inevitable.

But instead—without a word—I open the door and slide into the seat beside him.

The door shuts with a quiet thud, sealing us inside the warmth of the car, the low hum of the city outside suddenly muffled.

Joel watches me, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s won something.

I huff out a breath, shaking my head as I lean back against the seat. “You’re ridiculous.”

His voice is steady, calm. “And yet, here you are.”

I don’t answer. Because he’s right.

I settle into the seat, crossing my arms as I turn to face him. “You know, normal people just call if they want to see someone. They don’t crash their date and send cryptic drinks across the room.”

Joel smirks, tilting his head slightly. “Didn’t seem like much of a date to me.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry—were you keeping track? Should I have sent you an update?”

He leans back, stretching his legs out, completely unbothered. “Wouldn’t have minded one.”

I shake my head, biting back a smile. “You are unbelievable.”

He shrugs. “You walked over to me, sweetheart.”

That makes me pause. Because he’s right—I did walk over to him. I did let him get under my skin. And now, I’m here, in his car, once again letting him pull me into his orbit.

I exhale, glancing out the window as the city blurs past. “Why’d you do that?” I ask, quieter this time.

Joel doesn’t answer right away.

Then, in that low, steady voice, he says, “Didn’t like seein’ you with him.”

I scoff, looking back at him. “And what, exactly, gives you the right to not like it?”

He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t flinch. Just keeps looking at me like he already has the answer.

And I hate that my heart stumbles over itself at the weight of his gaze.

“It’s not about rights,” he says finally. “It’s about what is.”

I shake my head. “That doesn’t mean anything, Joel.”

His mouth twitches like he’s holding something back. “Sure it does.”

The car slows as we near my apartment.

I glance at him, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. “So, what? You gonna walk me to my door now, too?”

Joel holds my gaze for a second longer before he leans forward, knocking twice on the partition.

“Pull over,” he tells the driver.

And when the car stops, he looks back at me. “Let’s find out.”

Joel steps out first, rounding the car as I push open my door. His presence is solid beside me as we make our way up the front steps of my building, the city humming around us.

I try to ignore the way my pulse jumps, the way my skin burns under his gaze.

At my door, I turn to him, arching a brow. “So, you are walking me to my door. What’s next? A goodnight kiss like a gentleman?”

Joel huffs out a quiet laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Wouldn’t exactly call myself a gentleman.”

I shake my head, smiling despite myself. “No, you wouldn’t.” A pause stretches between us, thick with everything unsaid.

Then Joel does something unexpected. He follows behind me, pushing the door open and walking inside like he owns the place.

I follow him in, shutting the door behind me as he glances around, taking in my apartment. It’s not much—messy bookshelves, half-empty wine glasses on the counter, a record player I never use—but it’s mine.

Joel smirks. “So this is your place.” I cross my arms. “You breaking in is not as charming as you think it is.”

He turns to face me, and just like that, the air shifts. The teasing, the banter—it all simmers down to something heavier. Something real.

“What do you want from me, Joel?” I ask, my voice quieter now, less sharp.

He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks at me like he’s figuring it out himself. Then, after a beat, he takes a step closer. “Nothin’ you don’t already know.”

And before I can think—before I can stop myself—I reach for him.

Joel meets me halfway.

His hands find my waist as mine slide up his chest, and then his mouth is on mine, slow and sure. It’s different from the last time, different from the fire that burned between us that night. This time, it’s deeper. It’s steady.

Like he’s proving something. Like I’m letting him.

—

The phone rings—sharp and unexpected, cutting through the quiet of my apartment.

I pick up, pressing the receiver to my ear as I absently start pacing, the cord trailing behind me. “Hello?”

A beat of silence. And then—

“You busy?”

It’s Joel.

I smirk, my voice playful as I move toward the window. “Depends. Who’s asking?”

I hear the familiar low rumble of his laughter. “You know damn well who’s askin’.”

I bite my lip, glancing out at the city lights. “Then no, I’m not busy.”

I hear a slight shuffle on his end, the clink of glass. “Got some salmon. Figured I’d cook.”

I raise a brow, curiosity piqued. “Joel Miller, cooking? What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion.” His voice is steady, but there’s something in the way he speaks that feels almost… softer. “Just thought you might like something better than takeout for once.”

I smile, twirling the phone cord around my fingers. “I like takeout.”

“That don’t mean it’s good for you.”

I roll my eyes, amused. “I’ll bring wine.”

“Figured.” His tone shifts slightly, quieter this time, more deliberate. “So? You comin’ over?”

I don’t answer immediately. Not because I’m unsure—I’m not—but because something about the way he asks makes my heart beat a little faster.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice a little softer than usual. “Be there soon.”

Joel doesn’t say goodbye. Just a soft, “See you soon,” before the line clicks dead.

I sit there for a second, the dial tone humming in my ear before I hang up. My chest tightens, but in a way that feels warm. I grab my bag, the wine, and step out the door, already feeling the pull of him waiting for me.

When I arrive at his place, it’s just as I remember—warm, lived-in, familiar. The city’s noise is muffled here, replaced by the low hum of the lights and the scent of something delicious cooking in the kitchen.

Joel’s already at the table, his back slightly turned, one hand lazily resting on the edge while the other holds a cigar between his fingers. I can see the faint smoke curling upward, mixing with the warm glow from the overhead lights.

I watch him for a moment, then speak up, my voice softer than usual. “Didn’t know you smoked cigars.”

He looks up, a small, knowing smirk on his lips. “Only every once in a while. Special occasions.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what’s the occasion?”

He exhales a slow stream of smoke, his eyes locked with mine, that familiar warmth in his gaze. “You tell me, sweetheart.”

I roll my eyes, but the smile that tugs at my lips betrays me. I stand up, stretching my arms overhead, and then I spot them—the records stacked by his bookshelf. The sight of them brings a sudden warmth to my chest.

“Wait.” I crouch down, fingers grazing the covers. “You have records?”

Joel exhales again, nodding toward them. “Yeah. Haven’t played ‘em in a while, though.”

I flip through the albums, smiling as I see the names—Johnny Cash, Linda Ronstadt, Etta James—and then, nestled toward the back, a cover I recognize.

I pull one out, holding it up with a playful grin. “Which one is this?”

Joel looks over, then leans forward, a small glint in his eyes. “That one’s a classic.”

“Classic, huh?”

He smirks. “You’ll see.”

I stand, taking the album toward the old record player by the window. The needle wobbles slightly as I set it down, and then, after a beat of silence, the room fills with the smooth, velvety voice of Andy Williams.

“Moon River, wider than a mile…”

Something in my chest tightens at the sheer romance of it. I glance over at Joel, and he’s already watching me, his expression unreadable but his eyes soft, like he’s seeing me in a way he doesn’t often let himself.

I take a step toward him. Then another.

“Dance with me,” I say softly, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them.

Joel huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as if to protest. “I don’t dance.” I smirk, reaching for his hand anyway. “Sure you do.”

He exhales, like he’s already lost the battle, and then he lets me pull him up. He places his hand against my waist as I drape my arms over his shoulders, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver through me.

We begin to sway slowly, moving together as the song wraps around us, filling the space between us with something unspoken, something deeper than just the music.

Joel exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly, but there’s no bite to it now, just that familiar, soft edge. “Can’t believe you got me doin’ this.”

I smile, my cheek resting against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming me in a way nothing else can.

He chuckles, low and rich, his fingers pressing just a little firmer into my back as we move together, closer now, the distance between us narrowing until there’s nothing but the sound of the song and the soft shuffle of our feet.

We don’t say anything else. We don’t need to.

The song plays on, a familiar, warm melody that fills the quiet around us, and for once, neither of us runs from it. Neither of us pulls away. In this moment, we’re just two people, swaying in the dim light, letting the world outside fade away.

—

The night is cool, the air thick with the scent of rain that never quite fell. I tug my coat a little tighter around me, glancing over at Joel as he holds the door open for me, that familiar, easy presence at my side.

“Hey, handsome,” I tease as he reaches for my hand.

“Hey, baby.” His voice is warm, rough, and he tugs me in for a brief kiss, his palm steady on my waist.

Before I can step toward the car, he pulls something from his pocket—a small velvet box, dark red, almost black under the glow of the streetlights.

I arch a brow, eyeing it suspiciously. “What’s this?”

Joel smirks, pressing the box into my palm. “Just open it.”

I flip the lid open—and my breath catches.

Inside, nestled in the velvet, is a bracelet. A delicate Cartier piece, sleek gold with just the right amount of weight to it. Simple. Timeless. Beautiful.

“Joel.” My voice is quieter now, the teasing edge gone. “This is—”

“Figured you’d like it.” He watches me carefully, his expression unreadable.

I swallow, brushing my fingers over the smooth metal. “You just—randomly decided to buy me a Cartier bracelet?”

His lips twitch. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence stretches between us, thick with everything unspoken.

Then, because it’s easier than acknowledging what this means, I smirk. “You tryin’ to win me over, Miller?”

Joel exhales through his nose, shaking his head as he reaches for the bracelet, undoing the clasp. “Don’t gotta try, sweetheart.”

He takes my wrist in his hands, his fingers warm, rough as he slides the bracelet into place. Careful. Precise. The clasp clicks softly, and his thumb smooths over the gold.

Then, before I can say anything, he lifts my wrist to his lips, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the inside of it.

My pulse stutters.

Joel pulls back slightly, studying me. “Looks good on you.”

I shake my head, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

He smirks, offering his arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”

We step inside, warmth wrapping around us as the low hum of conversation fills the air. It’s all polished marble and chandeliers, the kind of place that feels expensive just to breathe in. A few people glance our way—some nod, some linger.

Joel keeps a steady hand on my back as we move through the room, his presence grounding.

We’re mid-conversation with a group of men in tailored suits when one of them—James, I think—turns to Joel with a polite smile.

“And who’s this?”

Joel hesitates. Just for a second. But I feel it.

His grip on my waist tightens slightly before he finally says, “This is—” He exhales, then settles on, “My date.”

I blink, fingers tightening around my champagne glass. My date. The way he says it—careful, deliberate—sticks with me, winding itself around my thoughts as the conversation moves on.

—

It’s late. The city hums around me, distant sirens wailing, the occasional car rolling by. The streetlights cast a dull glow over the sidewalk, and the smoke from my cigarette curls up into the thick night air. I don’t even smoke that much, not really, but sometimes it gives my hands something to do when my thoughts get too loud.

The apartment door creaks open behind me, and I know it’s him before I even turn my head.

Joel steps out, his boots heavy against the worn concrete as he lowers himself onto the step beside me. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stretches his legs out in front of him and rubs a hand over his face. He looks tired.

We sit like that for a while, the quiet between us stretching, comfortable but charged, like it always is.

And then, before I can talk myself out of it, I ask, “What are we doing, Joel?”

His head turns toward me slowly. I don’t look at him right away, just keep my gaze trained on the empty street in front of us. My fingers fidget against my knee.

I hear him sigh, long and deep. “You really wanna have this conversation now?”

I finally look at him, and he’s already watching me, his brow furrowed like he’s bracing himself.

“Yes, actually,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “Because it’s been—what? Months now? And we just keep—” I wave a hand between us, searching for the words. “We keep doing this. Whatever this fucking is.”

Joel runs a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose. “Y/n…”

“Don’t do that.” My voice is sharper than I intend. “Don’t say my name like that, like I’m asking for something ridiculous.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, staring down at his hands like maybe he wishes they could answer for him. Then he finally speaks.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “How about the truth?”

“The truth?” He looks over at me, his jaw tight.

“Yes, Joel,” I press, my voice raw now. “We sleep together. We spend all our time together. You take me to work things, I take you to family things. You leave your clothes at my place. You kiss me like it means something, and then—” I pause, my throat tight, my chest aching. “And then you act like it doesn’t. Like we’re just—” I shake my head, my voice catching. “Like we’re just something easy to walk away from.”

Joel’s eyes darken, his hands clenching into fists against his knees. “That’s not true.”

“Then what is?” My voice is barely above a whisper. “Because it feels real to me, Joel. And I think—I think it feels real to you too.”

Joel drags a hand over his face, looking away like he can’t bear to meet my eyes. “Y/n…”

“Just say it,” I plead. “Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it.”

He watched me, his brown eyes dark under the low lights of the street. “You know why it ain’t that simple.”

I tilted my head. “Is it because I’m your friend’s kid? Or because you’re terrified that if you let yourself want this—want me—you won’t be able to stop?”

Joel’s jaw flexed. He had a tell—this little muscle that twitched when he was trying to hold back what he really wanted to say.

“You think I don’t want you?” His voice was lower now, rougher. “Y/n, I’ve been trying not to want you since the day I met you.”

Heat spread through me, but I wasn’t about to let him off that easy. “So stop trying.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just sits there, jaw tight, muscles coiled like he’s holding himself together by a thread.

And then, after what feels like forever, he exhales sharply and shakes his head.

“I can’t.” His voice is rough, broken.

My breath catches.

Joel looks over at me then, and there’s something raw in his eyes, something I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

“I can’t, because you’re right,” he admits, voice low, unsteady. “It is real. It’s been real since the damn start. And I’ve been—” He exhales, shaking his head. “I’ve been tryin’ to keep it casual, keep it simple, because I thought maybe if I didn’t say it out loud, it wouldn’t be true.”

I swallow hard, my pulse hammering. “And what’s the truth?”

He looks at me then, really looks at me, and when he finally speaks, his voice is steady.

“I’m in love with you.”

It slams into me like a freight train, stealing the breath from my lungs.

Joel swallows, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’ve been in love with you. And I—I didn’t wanna say it. Because if I did, then it meant I’d have to admit to myself that this was never just a casual thing. That it was never just something I could walk away from.”

He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands twisting together like he’s holding onto something fragile. “And that scares the hell outta me, y/n. Because I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be the kind of man you deserve. And I’d rather ruin myself keeping you close than lose you by not being enough.

I don’t even realize I’m crying until a tear slips down my cheek.

Joel notices, his eyes flickering with something unreadable, and for the first time, he looks scared. Like maybe he’s already lost me.

But then, before he can say anything else, I shake my head, my throat tight.

“Joel,” I whisper.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe.

And then, slowly, I reach over and take his hand in mine.

His fingers twitch under mine before he exhales, his whole body seeming to relax, like maybe—just maybe—he’s finally allowed himself to believe it.

I squeeze his hand, my heart pounding. “It scares me too.”

Joel’s eyes search mine, and for the first time, we don’t hide from it.

I can’t look away from him, not now, not after everything he’s just said. My breath hitches, heart thundering in my chest, and it’s like everything inside of me is pulling towards him, like I can’t fight it anymore.

Joel shifts, and for a second, I think he’s going to pull away, but instead, he leans in, his face inches from mine, his eyes flicking down to my lips.

Without thinking, I close the space between us, my hands finding his shoulders as I pull him closer. His lips crash into mine, urgent and hungry, like he’s been holding back for far too long.

The kiss is everything I’ve been waiting for—raw, desperate, full of all the things neither of us could say before. His hands slip into my hair, tugging me closer as if he can’t get enough, and I answer with the same intensity, matching the fire he’s ignited in me.

We pull back for a breath, both of us gasping, but before I can even say anything, he’s kissing me again, this time slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring it, savoring me. His arms wrap around me, pulling me into him so tightly I feel like I might disappear into him.

I let myself fall into it, into him, into everything we’ve both been holding back. His lips trail down my jaw, to my neck, and I can feel the beat of his heart against mine, steady, grounding me.

“God, y/n…” His voice is thick, husky, and I can hear the rawness in it. “I don’t ever wanna let you go.”

I pull back just enough to look him in the eyes, my hands still tangled in his hair. “Then don’t.”

And just like that, the walls we’ve been building between us shatter. He pulls me into another kiss, even deeper this time, as if we both know there’s no turning back now. No more holding back.

I wrap my arms around him, holding onto him like I’m afraid he might disappear.

His hands slide down to my waist, holding me close, pulling me against him like he needs me as much as I need him.

When we finally break apart, it’s not because we want to, but because we have to breathe. I rest my forehead against his, my chest still rising and falling rapidly.

“I love you,” he whispers, voice soft but sure.

“I love you too,” I answer, my voice shaky but steady.

And when he pulls me into his arms, holding me tight, I know that this is it. This is the start of everything.

taglist: @aomi-recs @millers-girl @suzysface @picketniffler @justsarahbella @heartlessvirgo @paleidiot @orodaeh @ccmoonshine @joelmillerisapunk @callmebyyournick-name @urlivingdeadgirl @comfortzonequeen @partypoison00 @whaddupbaby

[uluvjay]

Hands to yourself - L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which I said i would write riding lando in his Miura so here it is :)

Warnings?; Smut, car sex, pretty much public sex, unprotected sex( a big no no), cursing, kissing, breasts play, light fingering, sorry for any errors I missed!

You knew you were a goner the second he pulled up outside of the restaurant dressed head to toe in black, his new monster had sat on his head, playboy hoodie covering his upper half, while he wore cozy joggers.

You had already seen the videos circulating while you were at dinner with friends and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t already feel wetness forming between your legs before he even picked you up.

That’s how you ended up in an empty private car park, your dressed pushed up around your hips as you bounced on his cock in the driver’s seat of his vintage Lamborghini.

“Fuck lan.” You cried head tucking into the crook of his neck, hips rocking back and forth as pleasure filled your body.

His large hands gripped your ass tightly, kneding the flesh as you continued your movements on top of him. The little grunts and moans escaping his mouth cause your cunt to get even wetter around him, his cock getting slicker and slicker with each bounce.

Lando grunts at the feeling of your breasts rubbing against his firm chest, taking note that you aren’t wearing a bra under your dress he pulls the top down exposing the bare skin to him.

His lips wrap around your left bud, tongue flicking against it while his teeth nip at it lightly, drawing whimpers from your throat at the added sensation.

“Taking my cock so well baby.” He cooed as he switched to your other nipple, one of his large hands moving up to roll the other between his fingertips.

You panted above him, legs slowly growing tired as you continued to fuck yourself on him, his thick cock hitting that spot deep inside you on every bounce.

Lando growled deeply as he felt his climax approaching, dipping a hand between the two of you brought his fingers to rub at the sensitive bud between your thighs.

“mmf-lando!” You cried out, the mixture of his thick cock and fingers sending your body into pure ecstasy as the band in your lower stomach had finally snapped.

“That’s it baby, come for me. Come for me like the good girl you are.” He praised smirking at the way your thighs were shaking violently around him.

He took control after that, hands holding onto your hips so tight you knew there would be bruises tomorrow as he thrusted up into you.

A squeal of overstimulation breaking free from you as his cock pounded into you at an ungodly speed, hitting all the right spots as he chased a high of his own.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, gonna fill you to the brim baby, fuck you nice and full.” The Brit rambled.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to reply, to overwhelmed by the feeling of him fucking you so deep, having his warm body so close to yours, breasts rubbing against the cotton of his hoodie every time he thrusted inside of you.

You could feel his hips stuttering as he came, a deep growl filling the car as his head dropped back against the leather head rest. His hips thrusted a few more times before finally stilling, keeping himself buried inside you as he pulled you from his neck and placed a searing kiss on your lips.

“mm, fuck that was good.” He smirked, green eyes locked on your blown out ones.

You giggled as his words before giving him one more peck and lifting yourself off of his softening cock, whining as he slid out.

Situating yourselves you both fixed your clothes and messy appearances, you could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head as you used your camera to show you where all your smudged makeup was.

“Baby?” He called softly.

“Yeah?”

“What got you so worked up that you couldn’t wait till we got home?” He smirked, eyes taking in the foggy windows of his car.

“I-I’m not even really sure..I think it was a combination of the outfit and car, this one is one of my favorites and we haven’t had a car sex moment in a while.” You shrugged cheeks turning scarlet.

“Just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself huh?”

“No, I truly couldn’t.” You smiled bashfully as you leaned forward and gave him one more kiss before rolling your window down.

“Now let’s get home so we can continue this In the shower.”

“Yes ma’am.” He laughed before restarting the engine and pulling off.

-

[kiryoutann]

i feel like this was wayyy too cute not to share now, so… sneak peek??? and i'm convinced simon is the most patient girl dad out there.

Walking over slowly so as not to scare her, he then asked, “What’s goin’ on ‘ere then?”

Gianna whipped around in a flash like a criminal caught in the act, her big brown eyes gleaming with a touch of guilt but not a trace of fear. "I dropped my cereal," she confessed succinctly, mirroring a trait she had unquestionably inherited from her father.

He crouched down next to her. “’Ere, let me help you with that,” then reached out, taking the paper towel from her tiny hands and started cleaning up.

Gianna just watched him until she finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“’S alright, darlin’. Accidents ‘appen.” Simon stated, rising to his feet and tossing the used tissues into the trash can. He then turned his attention back to his daughter. “But you could’ve woke me up. I’d ‘ave helped you clean it up straight away.”

“I know, but you were sleeping. An’ mum says you sleep like a… like a… clog?”

At that, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I think you mean a log, love.” He corrected.

“Oh right!” The little girl exclaims, nodding her head. “Tha’s the word. You sleep like a log.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever yer mum says.” He glanced at the box of cereal still sitting on the kitchen counter, then decided to keep himself and his daughter away from it. “So cereal is no option then. What d’you want for breakfast instead?”

Without missing a beat, Gianna chirps, “Ice cream!”

Simon snorts, shaking his head. “Can’t ‘ave ice cream for breakfast, darlin’.”

Gianna tilts her head to the side, eyes looking up at him questioningly. "Why not?" she asked. “Mummy 'as coffee for breakfast, alllll the time!” she spreads her arms out for dramatic effect—he chuckles at that. Definitely got it from mommy.

“Yeah, don’t be like yer mum, alright?”

The girl frowns slightly. “But why not? Mummy’s pretty, an’ she cooks good food.”

Something he couldn’t disagree with. He nodded, reaching out to ruffle her blonde hair. “That she does, darlin’. But we still don’t want you havin’ coffee or ice cream for breakfast, alright?”

"Okay, then can we go to Uncle John's house?" she asked.

“An’ why’s that?”

Gianna bounced on her toes, her arms swinging. “I miss Buddy an’ Daisy!”

Simon groaned inwardly. Should’ve known she’d bring that up. Ever since that one time he brought her to Price’s place and she met his dogs, Gianna has been begging to go back. Every time after school—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” Every weekend—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” And the thing is, the bloody mutts aren’t even there anymore, not since Price and his missus divorced.

“The dogs ain't there anymore, love.” He watched her face fall.

"Why not?" she asked, eyes wide in confusion.

Simon shrugged. “Cause,” he trailed off, not really wanting to explain the whole messy divorce situation to a five-year-old. “Nevermind that. What d’you want for breakfast?”

Instead of answering, Gianna crossed her arms while frowning. “I don’t want breakfast. I want Buddy an’ Daisy!

A sigh escaped Simon as the results of his parenting bit him in the ass. Bloody hell, he had to stop surrendering to her big eyes and pouting lips—just like her mum. She had learned from the best, hadn’t she? Got him wrapped around her tiny finger. There was only one trick up his sleeve to get her to cooperate.

“If you don’t eat breakfast, then then we won’t be able to go an’ watch yer mum later.”

And sure enough, Gianna’s whole expression lit up, renewed. She gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth in an exaggerated gesture. Seems like he got himself a drama queen.

“We’re gonna watch Mum?!” she asked, full of hope.

Simon nodded, trying to maintain a serious expression but always failing because of her antics. “As long as you behave an’ eat breakfast.”

The five-year-old was cheering, jumping, and doing her little dances in unbridled energy—just like her mum. He guessed it was true what Garrick said that day the lads visited the two of you at the hospital after Gianna was born—“She’s a perfect blend of the both of you.”

[dwaekkicidal]

What is stray kids favorite position to have sex? What do you think? This been on my mind for while

the way I was actually thinking about this a few days ago LOL hope you enjoy <3

OT8's Favorite Positions (Rough+Soft Ver)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: gender neutral, not pure smut but mentions of specific situations, Seungmin and Jeongin are mean in their 'rough' parts, switch mentions in Felix's part

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: these were SUPPOSED be short but i got a little carried away.. lol. also very poorly proofread cause I'm having sleep issues atm, once I sleep at least a few hours I'll come back to proof read (and probably tweak some things)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗

Rough

If he's fucking you during his Daddy/dom moments, a nice downward dog (flat doggy basically). As long as he can tower over you and fuck you until you remember your place, he's happy! Specifically downward dog because he can use those muscles he's been working so hard on to hold you down against the bed and be rough with his thrusts, all while not adding any extra strain to either of you. Runs his hands roughly up and down your back, leaving smacks to your ass before squeezing it right after. If he's in a particularly rough mood, will grab a handful of your hair to pull at and guide you.

Soft

I think he would be a big missionary person when he's making love to you. Likes to be able to see your face and leave kisses all over your frontside while he fucks you. Even more so if he's extra moody/sappy, so he can sloooowly fuck into you and keep his thick lips locked with yours, hands caressing up and down your body as he whispers all sorts of sugar coated praises to you. "You're doing so well for me." "God, I love you so much. You're fucking perfect."

𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝙺𝚗𝚘𝚠

Rough

Good ol' doggy style for because he loooves the control it gives him over you >.< Has a hand between your shoulder blades (or on your lower back) to hold you down, all while his other hand holds your hip to pull you against him (or to land slaps to your ass cheeks). Even better for days he wants to be mean or is just lazy; instead of doing the work he can just make you fuck yourself against him while he degrades you and lands smacks to your ass. Calls you a greedy slut for needing him in your hole so bad and smirks when you clench harder and moan into the sheets

Soft

Also doggy because he can lean over you, controlling the pace to be slower or softer while his chest is pressed to your back. Will slide one of his hands against your stomach in order to hold you against him so he can leave kisses to your cheeks, behind your ear, and against your neck.

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚋𝚒𝚗

Rough

I think he'd love carrying you while fucking up into you. I discovered the name for the one I had in mind being: 'Aquaman's Delight' or 'H2Ohh Yeah' I absolutely hate the names but it's when you're facing him and he's holding you up, your legs off the floor and resting against his inner elbow. Loves it because he gets to show off how strong his is to you while simultaneously being able to bury deep when he lifts you, then drops you onto his dick. This position also allows you both to be intimate when necessary, loving gazes and messy kisses being exchanged as he fucks you against him like his own personal fleshlight

Soft

Big fan of face off (face to face & upright riding) for when he wants to be extra intimate. Will take advantage of the closeness this position allows. Holds you tightly against him as he fucks up into you, and will keep your lips locked against his as much as you allow him to. When you aren't kissing, his face is shoved into your neck as he moans against the skin there, placing kisses when he's not busy being distracted with how well you take him (mr. can't do 2 things at once)

𝙷𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚓𝚒𝚗

Rough

Likes taking you from the back; likes to bend you over every surface he can think of so he can watch your ass jiggle from his hips slamming against it. Likes it also because he can trap your hands against the flat of your back with one of his big hands OR can pull your hands back towards him and use it as leverage to fuck into you even harder than he was before. Def grabs handfuls of your ass any chance he gets. I could see him preferring to finish on your ass so he can watch his dick paint your ass cheeks like he does with his canvases. Some dirty talk here and there like "Yeah? 'M in your guts? But baby.... that's just. how. you. like. it." and thrusts between the last syllables

Soft

Any position he can be embrace you with, but specifically can see him being an (open legged) spoon lover. Something about holding you as close to him as physically possible while still being able to rut/grind his hips against yours nicely. Bonus points for open legged because it gives him easier access to play between your legs. The intimacy goes CRAAZY, his hands holding you in place while he fucks into you nice and slow. Def leaves wet kisses and hickies all over your neck. Only downside is when he strains his (and your) neck when he wants your lips on his. But when his hands are all over you like this, how can you say no to those pillowy lips? >.<

𝙷𝚊𝚗

Rough

A "Pretzel Dip" enjoyer. This is when you're laid on your back and he's straddling one of your legs as he holds the other up to his chest. Goes nice and deep like this, and can fuck into you roughly while still getting to see your face scrunch up. Uses it to his advantage if you try to hide your face from him or try to muffle your moans, will grab your wrists and use his grip on them to pull you into him as he thrusts forward roughly. It completely stops you from hiding from him and gives him the chance to see your mouth part and spill the prettiest whines at how deep he hits.

Soft

I had to google the name for this lol Likes rocking horse: kind of hard to explain but it's when he's sat with spread legs and you sit facing him, your legs spread and slotted on each side of him. Likes it because it lets you both stare into each other and grind your hips against each other at whatever pace feels good at the time. Some days it can be just messy, desperate grinding while others can be slow hip thrusts from both of you. This position also allows him to embrace when he wants you close. Will make out with you any chance he gets when he's not moaning and groaning.

𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚡

Rough

Basic bitch 69 enjoyer. Allows both sides to push for/give up control before any penetration takes place. If you like the back and forth, he'll be on the bottom and roughly rut his hips into your mouth while you grind down into him. Or if you want to avoid the fight, he'll immediately concede and let you ride his face until you're satisfied OR he'll take control and grab a handful of your hair, using it as leverage to control your head movements. Will land a playful slap or two to your ass, but loves squeezing/massaging the flesh there more than anything.

Soft

Another name I had to google lol Perch/Seated rear entry Specifically for moments when he's gaming. If he knows he won't be finished soon and you're too needy, he'll shove his shorts and underwear down and make you sit on his dick facing forward so you can keep yourself entertained. Mainly uses it for cock warming, but won't complain if you grind yourself down onto him or start riding him.

𝚂𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚖𝚒𝚗

Rough

Another doggy lover, BUT I'm gonna say cowgirl not only for the sake of not repeating so much, but also because he likes be a little mean with it. It lets him boss you around when you've given him full control (and lets him smack you around when you aren't going fast enough for his liking). He can lay back and smile at you all cockily while you ride his dick desperately, and depending on what your limits are he'll spew mean comments here and there. He's a little shit™ so I can see him smacking your ass to watch your hips slow and stutter, then have the audacity to go, "What are you slowing down for? I never said we were done."

Soft

When his in softer moods, another face off enjoyer: it allows him to hold you close and thrust himself up into you whenever you start getting tired. If his lips aren't against yours, then your foreheads are resting against each other so he can watch you melt into a puddle for him up close. His hands roam all over your thighs before going up to your hips then finally resting on your waist as he hugs you there and pulls you closer

𝙸.𝙽

Rough

Seashell!!! This is the name for when he has you folded, back against the bed and ankles by his head while he leans onto you, albeit this position does eventually hurt depending on your flexibility. (this is also the position used in the teasing fic I wrote for him) Sorry not sorry but still on my big dick!Jeongin agenda. This position lets him go deeeep.. so he always takes advantage of it to bully into you as much as possible. Makes him feel all dominant when you can't form sentences properly and basically drool while looking up at him so helplessly. Little shit™ #2 and will laugh in your face when you start crying from how deep he is. If it's within your limits, and will definitely mock you and tease about, "I thought you said you can take it? Why are you suddenly babbling like you have no brain?" and "Are you that cock dumb already? We just started haha." Straight up laughs at you & doesn't shut up

Soft

When he wants to be softer, missionary (aka still seashell but without the muscle strain). It allows him to be close to you, placing soft kisses all over your face while he fucks into you. Also does not shut up here, and will whisper chants of "Jagiya" against your neck as he sucks hickies there. If/When he praises you, I think he'd still be a little mean about it; "Fuck, Jagiya... Finally taking me without crying about it" teasingly and chuckles. Also a "You're doing so well for me. Keep squeezing me, Jagi. Yeahhh... just like that.."

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ 3 idiots in love .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Ace Trappola x Deuce Spade x gn! reader

𓏵 1032 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 2nd Person POV, they/them pronouns used (once), fluff, polyfidelity!

first time writing 3 ppl together, hope I did well (-ω-；) feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

You were the ADeuce duo’s partner-in-crime; whenever they acted recklessly and caused trouble, you were always at the scene—whether reluctantly or not. It was practically a law of nature at this point. If Ace and Deuce were up to something dumb, you were either stopping them, helping them, or, more often than not, getting dragged into the chaos.

Which was exactly why you were currently seated in the Heartslabyul lounge, staring at them with mild suspicion as they fidgeted across from you.

Ace had his usual cocky smirk, but there was a nervous edge to it, like he was overcompensating. Deuce, on the other hand, looked like he was preparing for an intense training session with Vargas, sitting stiffly with his hands clenched into fists on his lap.

“Alright,” you said, folding your arms. “What did you two do this time?”

Ace scoffed, placing a hand on his chest as if you had deeply offended him. “Wow. Wow. Do you really think we’d drag you here just because we caused trouble?”

“Yes,” you and Deuce said at the same time.

Ace rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he cleared his throat and exchanged a quick glance with Deuce—one that, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed by you.

You squinted at them. “Okay, seriously. What’s going on?”

Deuce straightened his back even more (which you didn’t think was physically possible), sucking in a deep breath like he was about to say something important. But just as he opened his mouth—

“Wait, wait, I’m supposed to go first!” Ace cut in, shooting him a glare.

“What?! No, we agreed that I would start!” Deuce shot back, looking scandalized.

Ace groaned. “Bro, rock-paper-scissors isn’t a legal contract!”

“It is when we both agreed to follow the outcome!”

You blinked. “What...?”

Ace turned back to you, suddenly looking just as tense as Deuce. “Okay, listen. Forget that. What I was trying to say is—”

“—That we both like you,” Deuce interrupted, crossing his arms with a determined nod.

Ace gasped dramatically. “Dude! You just ruined my build-up!”

“Why were you building it up?! We agreed to confess together!”

“Yeah, but in order!”

You stared at them, mouth slightly open, trying to process the absolute nonsense happening in front of you. “...What.”

Ace huffed, leaning back against the couch. “Okay, okay, let me explain before you think we’re total weirdos—”

“Too late,” you mumbled.

“—We both like you,” Ace continued, ignoring you. “Like, a lot. But since we both do, we figured it would be dumb to make you choose between us, and we didn’t wanna get into some tragic ‘best friends turned love rivals’ situation.”

Deuce nodded, looking serious. “So we came up with a plan to confess at the same time. That way, you don’t feel pressured, and we can just… you know, figure it out together if you like us back.”

You blinked again. “That’s... actually really sweet.”

Ace grinned. “Of course it is! It was my idea.”

Deuce glared. “We came up with it together.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ace waved him off before looking at you again, the teasing glint in his eyes softening. “But seriously. We like you. A lot. And if you’d rather just be friends, that’s totally cool. But if you do like us back, we’d be down to, y’know... try this whole thing together. The three of us.”

Deuce nodded, his face tinged pink. “You don’t have to answer right away, either! We just… wanted to be honest.”

You looked between them, your two idiot best friends who had somehow come up with the most convoluted yet oddly heartfelt confession plan ever. And despite their bickering, despite the messiness of it all—there was nothing but sincerity in their faces.

You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head. “You two are unbelievable.”

Ace smirked. “Yeah, but that’s why you like us, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore. "I mean… yeah," you admitted, crossing your arms. "You two are ridiculous, but I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you, too."

Ace’s smirk faltered for half a second before it returned, bigger and cockier than before. "Hah! Knew it. I told you, Deuce, they were totally into us."

Deuce’s face went completely red. "Wait—really? You’re not just messing with us?"

You raised a brow. "Why would I joke about this?"

"I don’t know, maybe because Ace does it all the time?"

Ace gasped, clutching his chest. "Wow. You wound me."

Deuce ignored him, turning his full attention back to you. His hands clenched at his sides, like he was still trying to process everything. "So… you actually like us. Like, both of us?"

You let out a laugh. "Yes, Deuce. I like both of you."

Deuce blinked, his face still burning, but there was something soft in his expression—something like relief. Ace, meanwhile, had leaned back, hands behind his head, but the tips of his ears were definitely pink.

"Okay, cool, cool. So, uh, what now?" Ace asked, clearly trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

You tilted your head, amused. "Shouldn’t you two have planned that part out, too?"

Deuce groaned. "I told you we should’ve thought ahead!"

"Yeah, well, I was too busy making sure we didn’t sound like total losers, which, by the way, you nearly ruined by blurting it out early," Ace shot back.

"You were taking too long!"

You laughed, cutting off their bickering before it escalated. "How about this? Let’s just… keep things the way they are for now. We don’t have to rush into anything. We can just figure it out together."

Ace and Deuce both paused, looking at you.

"...That’s actually a really good idea," Deuce admitted.

Ace smirked. "See? This is why we like you. You’re way smarter than us."

"Not a high bar to clear," you teased.

"Hey!"

Deuce chuckled, and for a moment, all three of you just sat there, basking in the ridiculousness of what had just happened. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t some grand, romantic moment. But it was yours—messy, chaotic, and kind of dumb, just like the three of you.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[vervainandspritz]

WHEN I TOUCH HER

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy sees Y/N some time after breaking it off, she doesn't seem to notice him.. or does she?

A/N: Interact with the stories you read! It's important. Who wants something more tonight?:)

~~

People surely noticed, looking over curiously as several blinders entered the pub. Not making a ruckus of sort, slipping between other people in the fairly big crowd.

Some joined others by the table, greeting with wide grins those they know so well. Others, like John and Arthur came up to the bar, so much bigger than one in the Garrison. Three barmaids worked behind the counter, skillfully pouring all kinds of alcohol for the men in need. Known well among the people of Birmingham, they didn't have to call over to the working women to get what they came for. One of the barmaids handed over a full bottle of the finest Irish whiskey, receiving a good tip as the younger man left it on the counter, pushing it towards her with a wink.

Y/N, one of the barmaids didn't notice any of the Shelby brothers just yet, focused on the orders and techniques she taught herself so well. Tips were pouring like never before that night, as the rich guests consistently ordered more and more. A woman with such abilities was surely never seen before in any local club around here.

Night seemed to be coming to a head as the crowd slightly dispersed, giving her a much more clear view on the whole, rather massive, room. To say she saw him right away would be a lie, but Y/N could feel an intense gaze on her hands and face as she worked, cleaning up the glasses and wiping the counter down before finally looking up.

The man she avoided for over a month, more or less successfully stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets as he watched her from across the room. Despite the fact that this place was bursting at the seams, his gaze didn't falter as he watched her expression change, one much more bitter than the whiskey he held in his right hand.

”Fuck” Y/N sighed under her nose, internally rolling her eyes as she saw in her peripheral vision him slowly approaching.

Not giving him a chance to speak to her, Y/N turned around, wiping all the shelves behind her, keeping herself busy with anything, just so he wouldn't speak up. Involuntarily, the corner of her mouth raised slightly hearing his sigh of annoyance behind her back.

”Y/N” Thomas said, sitting on one of the stools. He wasn't surprised with the way she was acting, not really, knowing the situation he put them in some time ago. ”Y/N” He repeated, a little louder before dropping the glass onto the counter, causing her to huff before finally facing him.

Taking in the sight of him, already sitting by the counter, Y/N realized he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.

”What the hell did I do to see you here today, Shelby?” Came out of her mouth as a greeting, her tongue effortlessly sharp as always before she cocked her eyebrow. ”Don't you have whiskey in your own pub?”

Tommy looked at her for a moment, nodding lightly with an amused smile, causing her anger to simmer even harder.

”Came to see what all the noise's about, yeah?” He offered, pushing his empty glass forward, as in a silent order for a fill up. Without missing a beat she turned it upside down, slamming against the wood in front of him.

”Unfortunately we're closing soon. Find your way out, would you?” She said, smiling so nicely in such a fake manner, Tommy internally winced.

Letting out a sigh, he got up from his chair, leaning forward on his arms.

”Don't be like that,” He insisted, looking her in the eyes.

Tommy knew how this... The whole situation looked. Without knowing the details, it was messy and he was an asshole. Like always. When usually it didn't bother him much, Tommy couldn't shake this off. So aware of what was going on in her head about him.

”Like what?” She hissed, unable to hold back the anger she held in her fear for so many days now. ”You made your choice, now don't you dare come around in a state of boredom telling me what to do!” She stated sharply, a little louder than intended which brought the attention of one of her coworkers, Diana.

She came closer, tossing the rag aside as she eyed both Thomas and Y/N, before reaching out to touch her shoulder.

”Everything alright, hun? Is this man bothering you?” She offered, narrowing her eyes without dropping his gaze.

Hearing it, Tommy smirked lightly, highly amused with how... Fitting this environment was to Y/N's combative personality.

Are all of them that feisty?

Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she ran a hand through her hair.

”No, Diana, it's fine he's just... A bloody idiot, he is.” She said, glaring at him before adding. ”But he's no threat. I'm fine. Get behind the bar, would you?”

After hearing an affirmative answer, Y/N grabbed a pack of cigarettes from under the counter, walking around it and heading through the door. Tommy stood there for a moment, with his eyebrows raised in surprise. Only when Diana narrowed his eyes at him, contempt clear as day in her eyes, he rolled his own before following after Y/N.

She didn't go far, as a cloud of smoke awaited him right by the entrance, in the slightly darker side of the building. Moving closer Tommy lit his own cigarette, the air around them much different as the scenery changed. The reality heaving on his heart as he saw her hardened face.

”Y/N just let me say something, aye? If after that you decide you can't be arsed to talk to me, I'll leave.” He offered, the previous confidence and cockiness in his voice now gone. A long silence followed the echo of his low, husky tone while Tommy awaited her answer, standing nearby, yet not close enough.

Her hand was super still, eyes blank as she stared ahead for a moment.

”I simply don't understand why you're bothering me now, Shelby. It's been a couple weeks and you're suddenly back like a bloody boomerang.” Y/N made sure her voice was steady and confident as she spoke, knowing that she would be able to read her eyes, so the poor lighting was an advantage she was happily using.

He walked back and fourth a couple steps, smoking the cigarette before throwing it on the ground, stepping on it with the heel of his black, leather shoe.

”Campbell sent her to the Garrison. She came and sang, lied to us lot sayin' she's from Ireland.” Thomas finally spoke up, taking a step forward and keeping just the minimal, necessary distance he knew she needed. His eyes locked on her as best as he could in the dark, feeling her gaze as she hears his words. ”But Polly knew, saw her by the cut with 'im. Wore a hat, thought it would be enough to fool us.” a dry chuckle left his lips. ”After a couple meetings she started spilling, believed I felt the same. Kept talkin' and I needed to have the full view before the races.” The explanation slowly started.. having sense. But not enough to calm her nerves fully.

”No need to explain it all, no it's in the past.” She said, focusing on the black material of his tie, not looking at his face. ”You've had a long time to tell me, hell, to warm me you'd go 'round with a blonde on your arm, but you didn't. Now it's– not important.” Y/N said, involuntarily stuttering by the end of her sentence.

It was all... Hard. Hard on a different level. Before it all came to a head, it was all uncertain as well. He'd come, take her places or fuck her over the counter. He'd tell her things, but never enough to make it special. Keep his arm around her shoulders in the pub but never call her his. Y/N wasn't sure what was happening between them back then, but she liked it. Felt good around the man with blood on his hands and dimples in his cheeks. The casual flings turning into something she held dear to her heart, without trying to make it hard on him with confessions.

...but then she came around, taking all his attention. Leaving Y/N feeling like nothing important, like an underwhelming fuck he'd want to forget about.

Not calling, not talking, not coming to see her.

So she moved past it, and now he was back, suddenly scooting closer and getting ahold of her hands as she finished her cigarette, ripping her out of the dark thoughts.

”He was watching you. Knew about us, I couldn't risk them taking you to jail. Not after Arthur came back barely walking.” His voice was stern, more desperate now as he saw what seemed to be indifference in her eyes. ”Look at me, Y/N” He asked, quieter, and this worked.

It always did when he talked to her gently, using the soft tone he hasn't used with anyone else. So she looked, seeing the sadness in his eyes.

”I'm looking, Thomas. It's a lot.” She admitted, her teeth nipping on her lower lip nervously.

”I know.” He responded, leaning down for a better look on her eyes. ”Today were the races. I was supposed to take her with me so she'd sing all the missing bits into my ear.” Tommy added, his voice growing husky, breathing more ragged.

”Why the hell would you tell me that now?” She asked, frustrated with his weird tactics, jealousy gnawing on her throat. Thomas smiled lightly, not noticeably seeing it.

”Because I didn't take her. Made sure she's gone for good.” Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her eyes meeting his as she searched for the truth. He was honest. Another step closed the distance between them, his firm chest pressing lightly against her own before he leaned forward, caging her between the wall. Calloused fingers gripped her chin, tilting her head up so she wouldn't look away.

Oh, how he missed the way she looked at him. These deep, expressive eyes he grew to yearn after whenever she wasn't around.

”Because when I touched her...” Tommy whispered, moving even closer. His warm breath touching her lips and chin. ”It felt like I was cheating on you.” His forehead came to rest against hers, feeling how she slightly relaxed against his body. ”I couldn't risk putting you in danger just because I so desperately need you around, Miss Y/L/N. You must forgive an old fool, eh?” His low voice slightly muffled, as his lips moved against hers in the incredibly close proximity they found themselves in.

Y/N chuckled, hearing him. The tears in her eyes remain hidden from his watchful gaze only because of the awful lighting by the pub.

”You're awful, Shelby.” She finally breathed out, leaving a small kiss, almost a peck on his lips before pushing her arms beneath his coat, wrapping them around his torso. ”Hug me, Tommy” Y/N asked quietly, touching the terrain they never explored before. The simple intimacy with no sexual undertones.

Surprisingly, Tommy couldn't imagine a better ending to this encounter as his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her face into his neck.

Resting his chin on her head, Thomas knew he was the real winner, regardless of the race results.

[fairyofhee]

HEARTLESS.

PAIRING. fuckbuddy!heeseung x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS. you confront your fuck buddy after he dumped you. and despite how heartless he turned out to be, you still ended up faced down in his bed.

WARNINGS. contains smut! MINORS DNI. dom!heeseung, nipple play, smacking kink, unprotected sex, usage of pet names like princess, heeseung is mean, a red flag. 3k words.

NOTES. this was originally a sunghoon fic but it flopped so i edited it into a heeseung fic lol. feedback is appreciated!

—

It’s been ten hours since you’ve last seen Lee Heeseung. Ten hours ago, you were lying on his chest with your hand entangled in his. Then quickly after, you were left feeling empty.

Ten hours later, you are outside his apartment with your hair wet and goosebumps on your skin from the frosty air. Hard rain poured and it was cold as ice outside, but you didn’t care because you needed to see him.

You were standing before his door which quickly opened to reveal a messy haired boy. “Y/N?” Jake questions, eyes wide when he sees you outside at 11 pm in the evening, almost shivering and your hair drenched from the rain. “What are you doing here? It’s late and storming.”

“Where is he?” You ask as your throat evidently bobbles, voice lowly cracking. Jake notices your brows pulling together and gives you an apprehensive look before letting you inside.

“He’s in his room,” he gestures to upstairs.

“Is he alone?”

He shakes his head and this starts to worry you. He’s not alone, which causes a tight knot in your chest that you force yourself to ignore. Jake begins to walk up the stairs and you follow his lead even if you knew exactly where his room is at. You’ve been in it multiple times and slept over for a few nights. “Sunghoon and Jay are in there,” Jake says before opening the bedroom door.

Oh. The relief you’d just felt.

Immediately, you’re hit with loud voices echoing in the room that hurt your ears and the sight of the boys surrounded near a desk playing video games. They all turn their heads at once, except for Heeseung who was too occupied with the game. Sunghoon taps Heeseung’s shoulders who quickly meets your eye contact.

He seems confused, giving you a strong, dazed look of bewilderment. It doesn’t last long because he’s back to game, ignoring your presence. You roll your eyes, already used to this new behavior that he didn’t have twenty four hours ago.

His ignorance doesn’t stop you from approaching him and taking off his headset so that he could clearly hear what you’re about to say. Sunghoon and Jay watched as you stood close to the boy who left you feeling empty.

“You’ve been here the whole time?” You sounded more hurt than angry.

“Yeah.”

You give a scoffed laugh at his dry response, “That’s really all you have to say? Yeah?”

Patiently waiting, you hope for a response but seconds later, you get no word out of him. Your eyes travel to Sunghoon and Jay shifting their stance to stand next to Jake, who was sat on the bed noticing his friend’s behavior but choosing to stay silent and butt-in.

Heeseung’s ignorance starts to cause pain, this was not like him at all. Your chest stings once again because he’s choosing to believe that this morning didn’t mean anything, that it doesn’t affect your so-called relationship.

Your so-called relationship consisted of endless exclusive fucks. And you remember it like it was yesterday, a hookup that was only supposed to be a one night stand due to intoxication. You both met at a party thanks to your friends, then he brought you home after sobbing up where you invited him to your bed. Three months in, your friends with benefits situation started to become complicated, more conflicting.

Heeseung gently placed the controller on his desk before turning around in his chair and gazing up at you, “What else do you want me to say?”

How unbelievable. Did he forget how he fucked you, practically cuddled with you, slept on your bed, then called it quits the next morning leaving you to put the blame on no one but yourself? The audacity of him to make you relive it.

“We spent the night together then you dumped me without an explanation this morning,” you grit, tone becoming more passive.

He doesn’t respond again, how cowardly of him. “Did I do something wrong? Or d-did you find someone else?” You feel your throat close up when wondering your thoughts aloud.

“If you found someone else then you should’ve told me at least. Because leaving me like that makes me think that I did something. And I know I didn’t do anything because I’ve been nothing but good to you Hee,” you ramble.

Heeseung stared at the floor the whole time you basically vented, possibly comprehending your words, you’d hope, then drew his attention to the boys behind you. “Is she done?” He spits out, pointing his thumb towards you.

“Dude,” you heard one of the boys mutter. You didn’t know who exactly said it since you were on the verge of tears, not being able to recognize the person in front of you. How can he act so cold?

“You’re heartless, Heeseung.”

As if he turned off a switch, he reached for your hand slowly pulling you closer. You try to yank away from his grip, but his hold on your hand tightened. Realizing he wasn’t going to let go, you relaxed until he suddenly yanked you towards him, your smaller figure now sitting on his lap. His arm wrapped tight on your waist, preventing you to get up and leave.

“Can you give us a minute?” Heeseung dismissed the boys and they quickly got out of the room, closing the door on their way out.

You turn your head to face Heeseung, who’s grinning while playing with a strand of your hair. You’re confused, still upset, and you want to leave, but this is how you’re gonna get the most attention out of him, you think. So you stay put.

“I shouldn’t have come here.”

He was quiet again, he’s pretty good at ignoring you, until he lets out a big exhale. “You’re so mad, Y/N. You came all the way here late at night, driving in the rain and risking yourself getting sick just to yell at me,” he laughed.

You were about to speak but you let him continue.

“So what if we didn’t fuck anymore? Not everything is about sex,” he ironically remarks.

“It’s not about that-“

“Unless,” he cuts you off and ponders for a moment, causing his lips to dry which he soothed with a quick flick of his tongue. “You are worried that I was with someone else, huh? That I left you to be another girl’s boy toy?”

You shake your head and remove his arm that was around your waist while ignoring how flushed your cheeks were because he wasn’t wrong.

“Did you come all the way here because you want me, Y/N? You have this- sort of attachment towards me?” Your body tensed at his words as he breathed out against your ear. The heat was now palpable and you couldn’t deny the sudden feeling in the pit of your stomach. You force yourself to stand up from his lap.

“You think I like you?” You chuckle nervously with arms crossed before allowing Heeseung’s tall figure to tower over you as he gets up from the chair and stands in front of you.

“That’s funny, I didn’t say anything about liking me.”

You're frozen in place, quiet, and not saying a word. Oh, how the tables have turned. You didn’t realize that Heeseung was far too close to you, and you didn’t do anything to get rid of this close proximity. You watch as a smirk grows on his face when he lifts a hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, revealing your blistering cheeks. He loves when you become a shy and blushing mess just for him because it was rare occurrence. “If you’re desperate to have me, then take me,” his words come out as a low whisper.

“I’m all yours, claim me.” You feel his hot breath fanning on your face while returning his long stare, contemplating your next move. Suddenly you couldn’t take it anymore as you pull him even closer and attack his lips, feeling both of his hands cupping your entire face.

Heeseung leans further down to press a trail of kisses against your jaw, sending shivers throughout your entire body by extending them down to the hollow of your throat. You took a deep breath before pulling away to tug at the end of his shirt while his hand slides under yours, cupping your breast firmly under your bra and playing with your oversensitive nipples.

He removes his shirt, revealing his exposed chest as you take off yours and unclasp your bra. Heeseung steps back for a second to admire you then is quickly burying his face on your chest, taking your left breast and hungrily leaving kisses.

A loud groan leaves your lips when his tongue makes its way to your nipple. He suddenly starts to suck hard and your legs become wobbly, you feel yourself about to fall but you managed to gain composure to stand and grind against the noticeable tent in his pants.

You hook and wrap your arms tightly around Heeseung’s neck before he’s easily picking you up from off the ground and propping you on his bed. Everything happens so fast when he immediately attacks your mouth then grabs your whole body again to turn you around so that you’re faced down, feeling how hard he is from behind.

Heeseung grabs the band of your pants and pulls them down, quickly slipping off your panties and spreading your wetness. All that occurs as you bury yourself into his bedsheets, impatiently waiting for him to do something next. He starts to strip off his pants by untying the strings, his boxers followed by it and you feel his hardened cock pressed up behind you as he rubs slow circles into your clit.

“I barely did anything and you’re so wet.” You soon whimper at the loss when he removes his hand. “Seems like you’re ready for my cock now?” He softly asks while playing with your hair that’s splayed against your back, sticking to your skin since it was still wet from the rain. You nod frantically, unable to see the corners of Heeseung’s lips twitch upwards when he notices the way your legs are spreading wider.

“What was that, princess?” He took his throbbing length in his hand that dripped with precum and began to stroke himself to the view of you in front of him. A tease he was, resting his cock on your folds making you clench when he wasn’t inside you yet. “I want you now, please. I need you.”

A loud slap rings throughout the room as Heeseung’s hand makes contact with your ass causing you to moan. “Say it again. Louder,” his voice deeply laced with desire.

“I need your cock! Want it inside me now, please Hee!” He slams inside you without a warning, already bottoming out and reaching your cervix. Heeseung slips out his length and slams inside once more, satisfied when he hears the familiar sound leaving your mouth at the sensation.

“I fucked you last night and you’re still tight.”

A hand comes up to grip your waist, helping himself to set a fast pace when hearing your whimpers and moans that he deeply missed although he fucked you last night. The memory and current feeling has Heeseung slamming in and out of your cunt, head thrown back, loving the intense friction of being inside you.

“Do you love it princess?” He groans before placing small butterfly kisses on your back. You grip the sheets tightly, having trouble speaking. Heeseung slaps your ass when you don’t answer. “You feel so good, s-so fucking good,” You blurt.

You feel him beginning to roll his hips sensually, hitting your spot while still keeping his fast past. “You love my dick? Hm?” Heeseung feels you clenching when your orgasm is near. “I love your dick so much. Made to be inside me, Hee.”

He felt himself twitch at your words and could feel that you were close so he tightened his grip on your hips, helping your body to move in and out of his cock. The pleasure was overwhelming and more than anything that you have felt before (you say this everytime) but it felt so good, a reminder to why you choose to continue sleeping with him.

Heeseung takes his thumb to rub your clit which helps you reach your high. You know that he’s about to come when he increases his pace. You decide to help him out by clenching your warm walls around him, in which he sometimes complains about, because he could cum without even knowing.

“Ah, fuck princess,” he pulls out to paint your back. Once he’s finished, he kissed your lower back and massaged your thighs before getting up to grab a towel to clean you.

You’re now laid on his chest and it feels all too familiar that you’re suddenly afraid. “Should I leave before you dump me again?“ You joke.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I’m not that heartless to let you drive in the rain.”

You roll your eyes and laugh, “I hate you.”

“You made that clear earlier.”

There’s still conversation needed to be made about his sudden behavior from this morning, but you choose to let it aside for now to soak in this moment of being with him.

“My answer is no,” he interrupts your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“I’m not seeing anyone else.”

You smiled at his response, maybe that’s all you needed to hear from him for now.

—

© fairyofhee 2024.

[kurokawaia]

❛ SOFT AND LAZY ❜

Nara Shikamaru X Fem!Reader

WC; 700 + | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: x fem reader, afab reader, slight dry humping, grinding, slow lazy sex, cervix kissing, no protection, clothed sex, piv, vop, reader is wearing a skirt + more

˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) : the shikamaru hcs were amazing tysm!! pls take your time and don’t feel like you have to rush, but maybe an nsfw oneshot with a fem reader and an already established relationship? free reign for the plot otherwise tho, hope your day/night is going well <3 - ANON

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list

Shikamaru and you were out of one of those lazy dates. Laying down by the river and gazing up into the clouds, well, Shikamaru was. You were snuggled into his side, your head situated on the side of his chest borderline asleep. 

That was during your date, but now, this is after. 

Shika's clothed, hard cock was pressed right up against your cunt, which was drenched with arousal as the two of you made out with an intense slowness. His hands gripped your hips, slowly grinding you down to his dick as soft gasps leave your mouth before the sounds get swallowed by his own. 

Your lips moved slowly against one another, your tongues moving at such a slow pace that you were going to lose your mind as each suck and play caused electricity to shoot through your body.  A groan slips past Shika's mouth as your grind down onto his cock and you smile agasint his lips while the grip you had on his hair behind his neck tightened. Your other hand teasingly placed itself on his lower abdomen and the flat of your palm slowly trailed up his chest.

"You're getting needy," Shikamaru moans agasint your mouth, his grip on your hips becoming bruising tight and you gasp.

"Yeah," you replied breathlessly, pulling from his mouth with lidded eyes and his expression mimicked your own before you both leaned in for another heated kiss.

Shikamaru began to tease you as well, the grip over your skirt now slid under, his hands gripping your bare hips and you shivered under his touch.

You sigh in desperation, "Shika."

"Jeez, you're a needy woman," he replies sliding your panties to the side and dragging a finger down your slit, your head falls limp to his shoulder as a whimper spills from your lips

"Your needy woman," you replied, managing to put some sass in your reply with a roll of your eyes. 

"I know, such a drag," he says with a smirk and you playfully hit his shoulder. "I'm joking, baby."

Shikamaru had unzipped his pants and helped you lift your hips so that your cunt would meet up with his swollen cock head, the contact made the both of you let out a gasp. A moan leaves your throat and a hiss respectively leaves his own. you sink yourself down on his length and we both hold onto each other tightly. you messily pressed your lips against his and the ecstasy within your body continued to grow as the pleasure grew.

In a moment of unspoken desire and passion, you lean in closer to Shikamaru, your intent clear in your eyes. Our lips meet in a messy kiss, and the world around us seems to fade away. your heart races, and a cascade of emotions courses through you as you press your lips firmly against his. The taste of the moment lingers on our tongues as move your hips against his.

His cock hits that soft gummy place within your walls making you whimper against the kiss with Shikamaru's groans reciprocating the pleasure. His hands massage your waist as he helps you carry his weight as you ride him.

"Hah~," you moan pulling away from his mouth as you feel him guiding your hips faster you bury your head within his neck and you nibble on the flesh causing Shikamaru to tilt his head back at the sensation. you then realised that you had left a mark and that he'd have to cover the red splotch up but that didn't matter. you were so close to coming that your whole body felt weak underneath his warm touch.

you started to chant his name in desperation wanting to come and you felt his hand press against your lower abdomen making you let out a high-pitched whine as the pleasure coursed through you even higher. "Come on, you can do it," Shikamaru reassures you.

you let the coil in your stomach release and you felt Shikamaru's own come spill within you that carried a moan from him. you let yourself slump against him with his cock still sitting within your gummy walls.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list

this was rlly short srry, lazy sex was a struggle lmao

[sttoru]

‘if there’s anyone in this world who loves being a girl dad the most, it must be your husband — gojo satoru.’

☀︎｜tags. girl dad!gojo x female reader. fluff. you’re married. reader gets called ‘mama, sweetheart’. wrote this at work so not beta read. fic one out of two for satoru’s birthday!

giggles fill the living room — familiar laughter that sounded like your daughters’. a more sultry and manly voice also resonates in the background. one that you could recognise from miles away.

your curiosity leads you to investigate the source of the joyful sounds and soon enough, you find your dear husband and daughters sitting on the couch. though, in a situation you hadn’t quite foreseen.

satoru was talking on the phone about important business whilst your little girls were giving him a rather sparkly makeover. the most heartwarming thing was satoru’s surrender to your daughters’ antics — allowing them to do whatever to his face and hair.

“mhm, yeah..” the white-haired sorcerer hums over the phone, not having the slightest idea about what ijichi was yapping about. probably something that has to do with the recent sighting of a special grade curse in the city.

but, that wasn’t satoru’s priority at the moment at all (even if it should have been). his focus was all on his two daughters that were enjoying their playtime with him.

“papa’s so pretty.” one of them comments with a big smile — a smile satoru wishes to protect until his last moment on earth. her fingers push and pull on a small strand of his hair, trying to tug it into another ponytail.

satoru had already lost count of how many messy and half-done ponytails his snowy hair got divided into. the same goes for the amount of stickers on his face and neck.

the two sisters work together to put another pink and glittery sticker on satoru’s chin — though were no match to their father’s playful attitude. he jerks his head forwards and teasingly nibbles on their tiny hands that came in touch with his face.

this causes almost ear deafening squeals to reverberate through his ears. not that he’s complaining — satoru loves to hear them.

“. . .gojo, are you listening?” ijichi’s shaky voice over the phone interrupts the squeals. satoru doesn’t even try giving a proper response and only mutters a quick ‘yeah’ between snickers. that was enough of a sign for ichiji to understand that he couldn't get through.

everyone knew how much satoru loved his little family. he cherished them and put them above everything, including his work. sometimes it was necessary for you to remind satoru that he's needed outside your home - that he was and will keep being the strongest sorcerer that people depend on.

"wow, you two really made papa super pretty!" satoru coos as his daughters bring him a hand mirror. his phone had already been discarded somewhere on the couch - not even bothering to hang up on ijichi first.

your husband effortlessly picks the children up and cuddles them close to his body, smothering them both in sloppy wet kisses on their cheeks and necks - making them giggle uncontrollably. "y'know, papa will give you both a nice little reward for making me so beautifu—”

a faint cough echoing from the mobile device next to them reminds satoru that he was still on call. he reaches out and grabs his phone, rolling his eyes in a sassy way before clearing his throat;

"i need to attend important business. see ya." the sorcerer declares and hangs up right after. to him, playing around and taking care of his daughters was more than necessary. even in comparison with an actual critical situation: it wasn't like there weren't any other special grade sorcerers that could take on the mission.

the second his phone plops back down on the couch, satoru's hands fly over to tickle his little girls' bellies. they wriggle and squirm around in his lap - squealing for help from their mama.

you had been watching the scene unfold from the doorway and decide to join in on the fun once you hear your daughters’ call. you gasp dramatically before scurrying over to the couch, acting like you were genuinely scolding your husband for his 'torturuos' tickles;

"oh no, my little girls!" you pout, taking in the way your daughters laugh and outstretch their tiny arms towards you, searching for an escape in your arms. you gladly help them away from their dad's grasp, though not without getting a whine out of satoru.

one of your daughters sticks out her tongue at the sulky sorcerer on the couch, the other mimicking her sister's actions. you chuckle and decide to do the same; frowning and sticking your tongue out.

"ack!" satoru clutches his chest, fingers curling around the material of his shirt like he just got shot. he topples over on the couch and acts dead with his eyes half closed, "i can't. . . believe. . . it. my girls hate me. ugh, my heart - can't take it."

you scoff at his exaggerated act. you were used to it after years of dating and marriage, but your daughters seemed to still take the bait. they writhe around in your arms and once you put them down on the floor again, they run back to their 'fallen' dad.

they shake him by his shoulders and harshly pat his cheeks in attempt to bring him back to life. a constant loop of 'papa!'s and 'wake up!'-s echo throughout the house. even some 'we're sworry!'-s thrown in-between.

satoru couldn't take it anymore and his arms move at the speed of light so he could pull both of his daughters in a big hug. he squeezes them a bit too tight to his chest, causing them to shriek and laugh.

"are you not joining us, sweetheart?" satoru asks with a shit-eating grin. it's then that you realise that he was blushing from pure joy — his cheeks rosy. well, you couldn't possibly deny his request when he was this ecstatic.

the high-pitched 'mama too! mama too!' coming from both girls mellowed your heart even more. and thus, you give in.

you happily join the pile - climbing on top of your husband and between your daughters which lay on each of his sides. your head rests on his chest, your eyes closed and your ears filled with laughter.

satoru eventually relaxes, however that genuine smile never leaves his lips. this is where he belongs. with his family - the most important thing of all.

[giuli4nna]

HIGH & DRY | PT 3

you and hamzah stop tiptoeing around your situation, but fail to be careful about it. read parts one and two here

“we’ll only be twenty minutes or so,” martin says, grabbing the grocery list that’s scrawled with numerous ingredients in hamzah’s messy handwriting - the aftermath of your brainstorming while trying to decide what to cook for dinner.

“thirty,” mandy mutters, tying her shoes by the front door. “depending on traffic.”

hamzah just lifts a hand in a lazy wave from his seat beside you on the couch. “uh-huh. have fun.”

the door shuts. there’s a second of silence, before you hear the inevitable flick of a lighter. hamzah’s already pulling a blunt from his hoodie pocket.

“dude,” you laugh, leaning your head back. “did you seriously bring that over here?”

“i bring one everywhere,” he shrugs, lighting up.

you sigh. martin and mandy’s house is too pure for this.

you glance at their cat trees, the water bowls and pet beds. the matching throw blankets draped across the couch. the floral candle that’s lit on the TV stand, soon to be overthrown by the skunky aroma of weed.

the smell hits immediately - earthy and potent, curling into the clean air like it couldn’t care less about how domestic everything looks.

he takes a drag. passes it. you inhale and exhale. it’s a routine.

silence stretches for a few seconds while the two of you get comfortably high. a buzz blankets over you both - making the room feel warmer and the space between your bodies more charged with some sort of hazy energy.

now you're both slouched on their couch, staring up at the ceiling, legs touching. the blunt's halfway done and the living room feels like you hotboxed it with intention.

hamzah exhales slow, watching the smoke swirl above you. he gets your attention with a lazy nudge of your thigh.

you turn your head. “hmm?”

his eyes are already red. his lips are pink and shiny, a stark contrast to the gray plumes of smoke pouring from them.

“we should just fuck for real.” he sighs out.

you laugh, not even phased by his bluntness. “we did, though. even when you kept saying it didn’t count.”

he makes a face. “yeah, but like, for real.” he repeats, like it’ll change anything about what he said.

you snort, choking a little on smoke. “dude, c’mon.”

he shrugs. “m’just sayin.”

you pause, holding the blunt between your fingers. “so - what, you just wanna do it without feelin’ weird? cause it’s official?”

“uh-huh.” he reaches for the blunt, snatching it from your grasp. “pretty much.”

“really?”

hamzah shrugs again, stoned and shameless. “yeah, really. what don’t you get?” he teases. “you’re my best friend. and i’m askin’ you to fuck.”

you lips tug into a small grin. “so romantic.”

“you’re fallin’ for it, so.. yeah.”

you can’t argue. not when his hand is now sliding up your thigh, and you already know where this is going.

the blunt’s nothing but a memory now - burnt out and forgotten in a dish on the coffee table.

your shirt's pushed up. his hoodie's halfway off. your shorts are on the floor. his sweats are shoved just low enough.

and he's pulling your underwear to the side while mumbling, "don’t even take ‘em off.”

his hips are already slotted between your thighs, his frame hovering over you while the two of you try to remember how to breathe.

hamzah’s cock presses against your entrance, and everything’s so warm. you’re already soaked from how long this exact moment has plagued your mind.

“wait- wait, you good?” he mumbles, voice raspy and a little too stoned.

you nod, eyes barely open. “mhm.”

“okay. cool. that’s.. yeah. cool.”

he pushes in slowly.

you both let out matching, low groans as he sinks in - inch by inch, careful but not gentle. you’re high enough to feel everything, and he’s high enough to start twitching before he’s even fully in.

“oh, shit,” he murmurs, a million thoughts rushing through his mind. he’s not sure which ones he should vocalize. “oh my god, uh, you feel - fuck, you’re so..”

“shut up.” your voice is already shaky, your cheeks are deeply flushed and burning hot.

he bottoms out and stays there for a second - just looking at you. the way you stretch around him. the way your lips part like you’re trying to find words that don’t exist.

he drags his palm up your side, watching his hand spread across your ribs, his thumb swiping the edge of your bra.

“you’re pretty.”

you laugh, turning your head into the couch cushion. “oh, my god. you’re really high.”

he just grins. “you’re still pretty.”

his hips pull back slightly before he pushes in again - slow, lazy, way too deep. you choke on a moan, legs falling wider open around him without meaning to.

“fuck,” you breathe out, completely exasperated.

he groans lowly, his head dropping into the crook of your neck. “this position’s so unfair,” he mumbles. “i can see everything.”

you slap his arm. “stop narrating. you’re so weird.”

“can’t help it,” he pants, pulling out and rocking back in. “you just look so- i don’t know. fuck.”

you wrap your arms around his neck without any hesitancy, your hands buried in his hoodie as he starts fucking you. it’s slow and heavy and so warm that it makes your vision blur.

it’s gross. it’s sticky. it’s so high.

you both keep giggling under your breath every time you moan. like it's funny how good it feels. like it's silly that you're doing this in martin and mandy’s living room, of all places.

“shit, hamzah-” you pant. “you’re so deep.”

"yeah?" he pulls back to smirk at you. “told you m’good at this.”

his hips pick up this slow, sloppy rhythm. he’s not even trying to fuck you hard, he just wants to feel you all the way. his cock hits the deepest part of you over and over until your back arches off the couch and you’re gasping into his hoodie.

"shit," he mutters. "feels really good."

the couch squeaks beneath you. the armrest digs into your back. one of the throw pillows hits the floor.

it’s slow, drugged-up sex that burns in your belly and lingers under your skin. his hips flex under you with just enough rhythm to keep you gasping. sweat beads at your temple. your body is burning hot.

"we’re actually the worst," you choke out. "we’re on mandy’s fuckin’ fancy-ass couch."

“yeah, and you’re making a mess on it,” he mumbles, voice so low you feel it in your chest. “you’re fucking dripping.”

you slap him again, weakly. “don’t say shit like that.”

he laughs into your neck, breath hot and shaky. “you love it.”

you do.

hamzah groans and buries his face in your neck, his hands gripping under your thighs and pulling them up higher until your knees are damn near to your chest.

you’re folded. split open. wrapped around him in a mess of limbs and heat.

your whole body is buzzing, mouth open, barely breathing - just taking it. letting him fuck you deep and slow and so intimately it makes your stomach twist.

his hand slips between your legs without warning. two fingers rub over your clit, and your head jerks back against the armrest with a choked whine.

you cover your mouth with your palm. he hates it.

he grabs your wrist and pins it to the cushion beside your head. “don’t,” he murmurs, thrusting again. “wanna hear you.”

you moan involuntarily - not loud, but broken. he laughs a little, totally breathless. you laugh too.

he holds your gaze while he fucks you - cock disappearing inside you with every thrust, your thighs trembling, his hoodie damp with sweat where your hands are still grabbing at him.

“stay still,” he pleads, sensing through his drug-hazed mind that you’re both close to losing all sense of composure. “just let me - fuck - let me watch you cum.”

you nod, shaking, jaw slack as he rocks into you again. your limbs feel loose, your thoughts melting into heat and haze. you’re both moaning now, messy and uncoordinated.

the sound of your bodies pounding into the couch is obscene. you think you could cum just from the weight of him on top of you, the way he keeps whispering “just like that, good girl, fuck - that’s it-”

you’re right there. so fucking close - and the door opens.

you hear it.

hamzah doesn’t.

not until the grocery bags hit the floor.

“what the- what the fuck?!” martin yells. hamzah freezes, still fully inside you.

you’re under him, arms gripping his back, legs around his waist. the whole couch is creaking and the house reeks of weed and sex.

your eyes snap to the door. mandy’s standing there, staring, mouth open, one hand still clutching her car keys.

martin’s just pointing. “you.. in my house? on my couch?!”

“my couch.” mandy corrects him, sounding much less shocked than martin.

you slap your hands over your face with a groan. “oh, my god-”

“are you-” martin’s voice cracks mid-sentence. “hamzah! you’re literally still- why are you still moving?”

“m’not,” hamzah lies pathetically, his mind too stoned and his body too needy for his own good.

you grab the throw blanket and yank it over your face and chest, your legs still tangled under him, entire body humming with leftover pleasure and absolute shame.

mandy, still frozen, mutters, “i knew it.”

martin stares at her. “you knew?”

“it was obvious. i told you, martin. phone call? the way she was out of breath and hung up out of nowhere?”

martin groans, annoyed by how right she is.

“this is so much worse than what i saw last time.” he huffs.

“can’t believe you fully caught them first and still didn’t figure it out,” mandy says, exasperated, still eyeing you two like a car crash in her living room that she can’t look away from. “i told you they’re hooking up.”

“we aren’t!” you yell from under the blanket.

“you are right now!” martin nearly screams, completely overwhelmed.

another stretch of silence.

then hamzah - who’s still flushed, still high, still inside you - sheepishly asks, “..we still get dinner though, right?”

a/n: happy 4/20 guys ayyy

xoxo giulia

taglist: @gulicore @slushedup @arroganceisherfavoritecolor @layzerzlovesu46 @babysitter19 @marixoa @starjely @viennawaiits @a1exaaaa @freakzah444 @anginluv @gabwilliams @sturniyolo @screamertannie @brlwla @yourstrulykiya @thefantastickid @hamzaholic @divinesturn @forestlv4r @mayapuma20 @ottakugirl @hamzahsbestone @pulcen @rustnroll @venus-planetof-love @nickmillersn1gf @rock678 @wandas-lovey @guiltyfemcel @axetheboyboss @harrys0nlyange1 @ttlynotme

special mention for @isathefantastic who convinced me to take a break from my break .. ౨ৎ

[sunrisesfromthewest]

First Encounter Part 6

Warning:Marcus still on💯,Rated R language here and there🤬,Taking Birth Control💊(It’s for the plot don’t start blowing up my comment section,I got y’all 😭)in and out of readers pov,you’ll understand once you start reading📖

Previous Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6

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Entering your bedroom your eyes peer around every surface, searching for your black furry baby." Midnight, baby where are you!" you said wondering where he could’ve gone, while you were......handling business in the shower. 

 After scavenging through your bed sheets and closet you place your hands on your hips, letting out a huff in frustration. 

 Crossing your arms, you look back at Armando, who is just now exiting the bathroom, towel still wrapped low on his hips, bringing out his v-line. Shaking your head you look away asking him what he did with your baby. "Promise me you want get mad, princess.” he said scratching the back of his head with a hesitant expression. 

Eyes twitching you reply, "The fuck you do with my baby." Before you could drill in on him, he walks over and grabs your hands attempting to calm you down. "He's okay, he started meowing loud, so I assumed he was hungry." Relaxing a bit, you remove your hands from his and make your way towards the kitchen anxiously. 

“For your sake, he better be fine!” you said, walking to his bowl, but stopping at the sight before you, mouth dropping open. "He's fine,Y/N all I did was give it a little foo-” pausing mid-sentence, Armando lets out a surprise laugh, at the sight before him. 

Your poor baby peaked up at you two, little face saturated, in what looked like milk or tuna. Watching as he returns back to eating his food, Armando says, "See princess, I told you he was okay.” 

Turning to give Armando a glare, you point down at your baby, "Does he look okay to you!" As if on cue, Midnight lays down beside his bowl, looking as high as a kite, little belly full to compacity. Bursting out in laughter, all Armando could do was smile at the scene before him. 

 "Since you think it’s so Goddamn funny, you clean it up!” you say smacking his arm, while making your way back to the room to get dressed. Hearing him laugh louder only caused you to smack your lips, in disbelief. 

With Armando in the kitchen cleaning up the mess he caused, you began to moisturize your body, knowing that you'll become ashy without it. Throwing on the clothes you set out, you make your way over to the restroom, to pick up, y'all discarded clothes. 

After putting the clothes in a dirty hamper, you looked around in the small shelf above it, in search of your birth control. "I need to make sure, I don’t bring, no baby into this messy situation." you mumble to yourself. Spotting the box, you examined it to make sure, the pills haven’t expired. 

 Shrugging when you see that it’s only, a few weeks passed the expiration date, you take one, mentally making a note to by a fresh box. Exiting the bathroom you see, Armando chilling on your bed, with your now clean baby, who looked like it was in a food coma. Chuckling to yourself, as you walked over to your dresser, you say, "Remind me to never leave you, in charge of my baby ever again.” 

As you pulled out clothes for Armando he laughs,” Yeah, I think that would be smart to do,”he said grabbing the shirt and sweats you set on the bed. Slipping on the clothes you gave him, he asked, "Hey, where did you put those pair of pants, I had on?" Raising your eyebrows, you point to the restroom saying, it in the dirty hamper. As Armando walks over to the bathroom, you head to the living room in search of your phone. 

After finding it, your eyes widen by all the messages popping up on the screen, some from Kelly and Dorn, but majority are from your father. Looking at the most recent text your dad sent, you gasped covering your mouth. 

Y/N, BABY PLEASE DON’T GIVE ME NO LOWREY GRANDBABIES, I DON’T THINK I CAN SURVIVE THREE OF THEM!!!!!   

Sent at 8:15 pm from Candy Killer 🍭🍴🍭

*Buzz*

GIRL, DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO NOT GET INVOLVE WITH HIM!    

Has it been that long since Rafe!?! 

Sent at 8:16pm from Sleeping Beauty 👸🏻👸🏻👸🏻

*Buzz*

Scratch what I said earlier this is the fastest I EVER seen you, give in for some dick.........I’m taking you to my therapist immediately!!!!!!!!!!!!   

Sent at 8:18pm from Prince Charming🫅🏼🫅🏼🫅🏼

Turning your phone off of silent mode,you watch as a text pop up from Mike, almost making you drop your phone. 

*Ding*

BRING YALL NASTY ASSSESS BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!  

Sent at 8:20 pm from Money Mike 💸💸💸💸

Quickly making your way back to the room, you grabbed your duffel bag and picked up your baby while, yelling for Armando. 

Hearing the small commotion Armando walks back into your bedroom, picture from earlier placed in his pocket as he looked at your nervous expression. "What's going on? "He says lost by your sudden urgency to leave.  

Not saying anything you just passed Armando your phone, while making your way to the door, trailing behind you he stares at the phone with amusement as he reads some of the messages popping up. “This is what got you all frantic, Y/N and What’s up with these contact names?” he said smirking as he sees you turn around with a bewilder look.  

"The Caller Id names should be the least of your worries.You haven’t been around my father long enough to see him, freak out. One time he thought Mike was sleeping with my mom during a case, where they had to switch identities and he flipped the fuck out.... Climbing all on the house and shit......peeking through windows......and breaking the pool we had at the time.”

 Pausing at the door to catch your breath you give Armando a serious look, "I know you probably seen some crazy things, since you used to be in the Cartel but seeing the Marcus Burnett freak the fuck out is a whole level of craziness......especially when he finds out that you had sex with his daughter.”

Grabbing your keys, you make your way to the elevator lowkey scared of what’s to come, closing and locking your door Armando follows after you, eyebrows screwed in thought. 

“Hey, it takes two to tango, princess and plus like you said I’ve seen and done some crazy shit in my life so far. I think I can handle your dad throwing a tantrum about his precious little girl” he said sarcastically. 

“Okay, I tried to warn you." shrugging you enter the elevator pressing the floor level button. Following behind you Armando enters as well back leaning against the elevator wall, in thought. 

“He’s not gonna freak out that bad, is he?” he said becoming concern from your earlier response. 

Getting no reply from you, had his mind racing, with worry and anxiety.  

________________________________________________________________________________ 

After sending you another text of disappoint, Kelly throws a look to Dorn who seems to be doing the same things, but with a childish smirk. 

Right before she could walk over to scold him, for whatever dumb thing he sent you, she is grabbed by Marcus, who is still freaking out. 

Holding Kelly captive Marcus continue to sputter nonsense, which only left Kelly more discombobulated. Viewing the scene before him made Mike irritated and annoyed at his partner behavior.  

Fed up he walks over breaking the hold he had on Kelly, (which she greatly appreciates), pointing at Marcus, Mike says "Enough with the Bullshit!” 

“NO! Mike, you don’t understand...Y/N...my baby girl.... has actually gotten with a ‘Bad boy’ and the worst part is he’s your son. It’s Deja vu,all over again, first my little sister, now this......WHAT THE FUCK IS IN THAT LOWREY BLOOD! " Marcus says crying against Mike arm becoming hysterical. 

Rolling his already stressed filled eyes, all Mike does is pat his back, while saying with a smirk, "Most be some good shit since, you Burnetts can’t keep away from us.” 

Pulling away from Mikes embrace Marcus glares at him, "The fuck is that supposed to mean, “pausing Marcus throws his hands up in surrender, "You know what Mike don’t answer it.... I need to pray these evil spirits away.” 

“You know what Marcus,go do that, I'll be outside, creating a plan to get my wife back. Who should be my priority right now, not your whining ass!" tired of dealing with his tantrum Mike walks back outside, with Dorn and Kelly quickly leaving with him as well. 

__________________________________________________________________________________ 

Pulling up beside the AMMO van, you sigh as you put the car in park, nerves starting to get the best of you. Eyes peering over to Armando, you see him staring through the window in thought, probably thinking about what’s to come. 

Reaching across the console you grab his hand giving it a soft squeeze, "Penny for your thoughts?" Hearing him release a chuckle, he looks up at you smiling slightly, "Don't play you already know, what I’m thinking about baby," pausing he looks at you with unease before saying, "Is your dad really gonna wig out over this?” 

Watching his face turn into unease almost made you laugh, but you kept it in, "In all honestly, yes......but he’s probably going to go off on me, more than you." Seeing him visibly relax at your words made, you laugh, as you turned the car off. 

Getting out the car you said, "Just in case though, I would probably hide behind me or your dad!" Leaving from the car as well Armando face screws up, in confusion, "But you just said he’ll attack you more than me!” 

Shaking your head you smile widely, "I did but if you haven’t noticed by now, he likes to go after the biggest opponent!” Pausing to pick up Midnight and your duffel bag, you look up to see that Armando has moved to your side of the car, hand grabbing the bag from you, swinging it over his right shoulder. 

“And in this moment, it's you.” you say making your way over to the others who are talking on the dock. Armando stood there thinking about what you just said, but snapping out of it when you start walking away. Following behind you Armandos face falls back to its usual nonchalant look, as you walk up to the group. 

Dorn is the first to see you guys approaching, but before he could say anything Mike cuts in "Glad to see y’all horny assess made it back!" eyes run over y’all bodies picking up, on the change of clothes, but once he looks at your neck, he shakes his head in disbelief.  

“I could care less if you guys fool around but y’all couldn’t wait until after we rescued my wife.......MATTER FACT.......HELL YOU JUST MET TODAY!!!!” All you could do was nod your head in shame, while listening to Mike rant, although you don’t regret what you did, you could’ve chosen a different time. 

As you open your mouth to apologize, Mike silence you with a look, "I don’t want to hear a half as apology Y/N, all I want from you right now is to go deal with your dramatic ass Daddy.......he been giving me a headache since y'all left.” 

Biting your lip so you wouldn’t laugh, you send Armando a small smile, as you make your way towards the house. Brown eyes following your retreating figure, he hears his father clearing his throat, causing him to looking back at the group.

He notices everyone staring him down with they’re arms crossed, even Lockwood traitorous ass, was looking at him sideways. 

Sensing his son getting annoyed by the different looks he was receiving , Mike pulls Armando aside to have a little ‘talk' with him.

___________________________________________________________________________________ 

Walking into the house you see your father sitting on the couch, with his eyes closed. Confused you close the door silently behind you, while cautiously making your way towards him. Opening his eyes Marcus, stares you down as you sit there in silence, obviously waiting for him to say something. 

“Y/N.” your father says calmly while watching you hold Midnight against your chest.

Observing him as his gaze shift up to your heavily marked neck, you hesitantly whisper yes, waiting for your fathers response. "Did you at least use protection?” he says eyes still staring hard at your neck, biting your lip, you shake your head no, shifting slightly as you wait for his reaction anxiously. 

Nodding his head, he places his hands together eyes no longer gazing at your neck angrily, as he bounces his right leg against the floor. 

“I took a birth control pill tho,so you don’t have to worry about no LOWREY grandbabies." you said letting out a laugh, but clearing your throat instead when he gives you a blank look.”Y/N....you my youngest daughter and I love you......but do you truly believe......and I mean......TRULY believe.... that a damn pill stands a chance against LOWREY DNA!!!” 

Shocked by his words you say, "What?” 

Shaking his head in disappointment he says, "I don’t know who ass to beat....... yours or the future father of my unborn grandchild!”  

Tired of your father antics, you smack his arm to get his attention, "The ONLY grandbaby you getting from me, is right hear against my chest...stop worrying yourself to death. And last I checked Daddy I'm a grown woman,you can’t go around whooping my ass,when I do something, you disagree with.” 

Snapping his head up to you he stands up, pointing down at your stomach, "That baby just saved your life cuz who the hell you think you talking to like that,Y/N!” 

Rolling your eyes in frustration, you sat Midnight down as you stand up and yell, "For the last time I’m NOT PREGNANT WITH A LOWREY BABY and I’m talking to you!” 

Watching your father head look around the room, before pointing at himself he says, "That disrespect most come from your momma side of the family,cuz I’ll be DAMN,if I sit here and tolerate it. Fine your ass not pregnant, I'll take your word for it but the minute and I mean the second I start dreaming about some Damn FISH! I’m whooping somebodies ASS!” 

Laughing at your father foolishness, you say, "Okay, fine I fucked up tonight but can’t you discipline me another time, Christine needs are help right now, and Mike needs his partner, not a concerned father.” 

Giving your father a smile, you watch as he stares at you in thought, before rolling his eyes, "Yeah, we can drop it for now......besides I already forgiven you.” Pausing you analyze his body language, knowing that he usually doesn’t just forgive people so easily,especially when it comes to a situation like this. 

Widening your eyes, you make your way over to your purse that you left there, mouth dropping once you couldn’t find what you were looking for, eyes tearing up, you return your gaze to his not so regretful ones, 

"YOU ATE MY SKITTLES!” 

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Authors Note:Sorry it took so long to post part 6,I’ve been receiving a few message about the Spanish translations for Armando’s dialogue,in previous chapters.And Y’all Google did me Dirty,but the problem is fixed now😭😭😭,thank y’all for letting me know.I’ll stick to writing his parts in English for now on😂.

I ain’t gonna lie y’all this chapter is more like an appetizer instead of a meal.Stay tuned for part 7,tho💖💖💖

⬇️Also,this how our baby,was looking in that Kitchen😭and RIP SKITTLES you didn’t stand a chance😔😔😔