#don’t mind the screen shot in the second picture

[smol-bean-boi13]

Fit check

I like to think that Hueso gave echo some arm warmers as a welcoming gift (but he refuses to admit when he does something nice, like all Mexican uncles/aunties do 🙄🤭)

And yes they are still one of the most colorful things she owns to this day 😁

Main masterpost - Echoed masterpost

[hotgirlbedtimescenarios]

Rewind

Pairing: Joel x f!reader (drabble) - Joel tries Tinder for the first time. His girthy digits get in the way lmao.

Word count: < 1.0k

Warnings: none, just a fluffy and clumsy Joel!

Main Masterlist

Joel Miller sat on his well-worn couch in his cozy flannel pajama pants, the soft glow of the TV flickering in the dim light. With his broad shoulders and rugged good looks, he exuded a kind of understated handsomeness that only came with age and experience.

His dark hair, now tousled after a long day, had a few silver strands, and his deep-set eyes held a warmth that made him feel both strong and approachable. But tonight, those eyes were filled with uncertainty as he stared at his phone.

It had been ages since he’d even thought about dating, let alone using an app like Tinder. But after Ellie had teased him about being a “lonely old man,” one too many times, he’d finally given in.

With a reluctant breath, he downloaded the app and set up his profile. He chose a picture from a rare sunny day when he and Ellie had gone fishing, both of them grinning like they’d won the lottery.

The other pictures he added to the profile were of him and Tommy with their arms slung around each other's shoulders, and there was a photo Ellie had snuck of him on a rare day he was wearing something other than his dirty work clothes. “Well, don’t you look pretty,” she teased and snapped a photo of his slicked-back hair before he could swat her away.

For his bio, he simply wrote, “Just a simple man lookin’ for a bit of happiness.” But as he stared at it, doubt crept in like a thick fog. What if nobody found him interesting? What if he made a complete fool of himself? Even worse, what if someone he knew saw him and told everyone how desperate he was.

Shaking off the nerves, he started swiping. No, No, No, he continued swiping left, either put off by something in their bio or not feeling drawn to them. Most profiles began to blur together until he stumbled upon yours.

Your smile was like sunshine breaking through clouds, and your bio spoke of adventures and cozy evenings. You seemed down to earth, and judging by the pictures in your profile, you didn't take life too seriously. A warmth spread through his chest, and he felt a flutter he hadn’t experienced in years.

“Lord have mercy,” he whispered to himself, heart racing. He meant to swipe right but, in his flustered state, his thumb fumbled, swiping left instead.

Panic shot through him like lightning. “No, no, no! Shit,” he exclaimed, almost dropping his phone. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. How could he be so clumsy? He let you slip away. "Damn sausage fingers."

Joel frantically tries to go back and undo the mistake, but the app denies him; it's a premium service to rewind a swipe and try again.

He stares at his phone screen, contemplating. Is he really about to spend $10 to go back and swipe right for the slim chance that the two of you might match?

He leans forward, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and sighs.

Fuck.

Yeah, he is.

Frantically, Joel digs through his wallet for his debit card and quickly punches in the numbers, upgrading to a premium membership.

Each second feels like an eternity, he doesn’t want to lose your profile. Finally, he swipes backward and your face flashes across the screen again, relief washes over him.

He swipes right quickly before he screws up again, but his heart sinks—no match. Shame washes over him, and he flops back onto the couch, burying his face in his hands, his broad chest rising and falling rapidly.

Embarrassed for wasting 10$ just to get rejected he gets up from the couch with a sigh and calls it a night.

Hours later, he lay in bed, replaying the day in his mind, tossing and turning in his mess of sheets. Every time his thoughts drift back to you, that sweet smile, he feels a pang of longing.

Just as he is about to drift off to sleep, a buzz breaks the silence.

Curiosity prickles at him, and he grabs his phone, squinting against its bright screen with his sleep-fogged eyes.

You have a new match!

His heart races with anticipation. Could it be?

With eager fingers, he opens the app. There it is—your name and profile glowing on the screen.

A match!

A goofy grin spreads across his face, chasing away the earlier embarrassment. Without wasting a second, he types a message, his heart thumping like a bass drum.

“Hey, darlin', I'm Joel. You have no idea how glad I am we matched.”

He sets the phone down, a giddy mix of excitement and nerves bubbling in his chest as he waits for your reply.

[nickssidewitch]

Chris’s Dilemma

Chris Sturniolo has a little crush on one of his YouTube peers Layla, whom he’d only met once before. But what will happen when they finally meet once again to film an episode of the Cut The Cameras podcast?

Warning: SMUT, Sneaky sex, Dom!Chris x Sub!OC (named Layla), p in v, Oral (Male-Receiving), Dry-Humping/Grinding, Doggystyle, Missionary

(if you read this part already, please read Part 2 here)

***

“Get your hand off the fucking napkin holder, Chris,” Nick demanded as he grabbed the object out of his brother’s hands. He placed it onto the table next to him, now further from Chris’s reach. “What are we, kindergarteners?”

Chris stretched his body over his other brother Matt in some way to pick up the napkin holder again, but Matt shoved him from his body, causing Chris to sit back into his seat and cross his arms. He pouted comically, but neither Matt nor Nick were amused.

“Stop being annoying,” Nick said as he glared at Chris. They were all at a pizza shop which was pretty packed, and he didn’t want his pizza experience to be ruined by his pestering brother.

“He’s gonna make us get kicked out or something,” Matt added nonchalantly, taking a sip of his own Pepsi afterwards. “I don’t know why you can’t just sit down and relax for two minutes.”

“I can relax for two minutes,” he shifted his body to Matt and fixed his posture, “Three even.”

“Okay, well why don’t you?” Before Chris could protest, Matt continued, “Starting now.”

Nick smirked. “As if Chris could stay still for 30 seconds. Remember how he acted at Larri’s birthday party?”

Matt nodded and said, “Mind you, we were sober, but you acted like you were wasted off of six shots of tequila.”

“Okay, is it ‘Bash Chris Day’ or something? I can’t have a little fun?” Chris responded, rolling his eyes and still feigning a pout onto his lips childishly.

But Matt simply sighed. “Not at our expense, no.”

Nick scrolled through his phone for a bit before he exclaimed, “Ugh, she’s so pretty. I love her fit here,” he said as he pointed at his screen to the picture of one of her outfits.

Chris wiped his mouth and took a glimpse at Nick’s phone, but he was unable to see who Nick was referring to. “Who?”

Nick turned his phone to show his brothers the Instagram picture.

Matt’s eyes focused on the picture for a second before recognizing the familiar face. “Oh, Layla? Yeah. Aw, is that her kitty?”

“Layla?” Chris' eyes widened a bit before he sipped his drink. “We met her at Larri’s party, right?”

Matt nodded. “She’s so cool. And guess what?”

There was a pause that silenced the space before Chris furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t like when you do that shit.”

Matt looked around confused. “What?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Fucking say ‘guess what?’ and pause for an answer like we’re in a fucking episode of Dora The Explorer. Just say what you wanna say.” He took a bite of his pizza as he finished his statement, and Nick could be heard chuckling from across the table.

Matt rolled his own eyes before biting his slice. “Anyways” he moved swiftly on, “Layla DMed me the day after the party and said she plays Pokemon Go!, so she added me as a friend. She sent me a Gift and-”

“I deadass do not give a fuck about your game, bro.” He paused to take a sip of his drink. “But it’s cool that you guys hung out a little.”

Nick’s eyes looked over at Chris, and he noticed the hint of scarlet painted on his cheeks. He never said a word though, as not to make Chris feel pressured to say how he felt in front of the two of them. He knew how Chris was when it came to girls that he liked. He didn’t want Chris to run away from someone again. So, he pocketed any questions he had about the way Chris felt about Layla to bring up for another time privately.

Instead, Nick started a new conversation. “Guys, you know how we haven’t had a guest on the podcast in a while?” The other boys nodded. “Well, I have a few options of who we could ask. I mean, I hate asking people, but at least these people are our friends. So, if they say no, we don’t have to feel awkward about it.”

Chris nodded his head. “True.”

Nick looked down at his phone and started to swipe, searching through his Notes app to bring up his list of potential guests. “Okay, so we have Vinnie Hacker first. We met him earlier this year and he seemed pretty cool.”

Matt chuckled under his breath. “The internet would fucking freak if he did a video with us.”

Chris sipped his Pepsi and smirked. “Just imagine the 4 Italian Stallions of the internet collabing. Wild.” His smirk began to shift to a big smile, but he noticed the two pairs of judging eyes coming from his brothers.

“Please don’t call us ‘Italian Stallions’ ever again in your life,” Nick said as he sighed. He began to go through his options again, listing a couple more influencers and a few singers and rappers that they had known until Nick finally landed onto Layla’s name. “Aaand since we brought her up before, maybe Layla. She DMed me saying that if we ever wanted to collaborate, she would be up for it. And she seems like such a sweet girl. Very opinionated, which is a plus.”

“Of course that’s a plus for you,” Matt interrupted Nick.

Nick sucked his teeth. “Okay, whatever that means. Should I text her back and ask if she’s willing to join us for this week’s pod?”

The other brothers gave each other a look before nodding in agreement. She was a Youtuber just like them. Her content was relatively similar in terms of doing random vlogs and videos with her family and friends, with the addition of makeup tutorials, fashion hauls, and other things. She would be a perfect fit.

Nick smiled. “Okay! I’ll text her right now!”, he stated and got straight to texting Layla.

“I hope she says yes,” Matt said. “Who knows? Maybe we can become friends.”

“Yeah,” Chris replied a bit dully. “Maybe.”

He hoped.

***

The boys got home later that evening and went into their respective rooms. Matt played Fortnite, Nick decided to do some editing for their next Youtube video and some computer storage cleaning, and Chris… Well, he was pacing back and forth in his room. Why was he doing this? He was thinking about Layla.

As said before, he and his brothers met Layla at Larri’s party a few weeks ago. Larri was the one who pulled her over to them, giving them her introduction in her place. She looked over at Chris, giving him the prettiest, yet shyest smile. She hugged each of his brothers, and for some reason, the hug between the two of them seemed longer than theirs. He wondered if she had done that on purpose.

Their conversation was a pretty decent one. Very normal. Flowed smoothly. Something that Chris didn’t really expect from influencers in LA. Usually, everyone in LA is trying to outdo everyone else around them, asking them things about their lives that they could probably use as ammunition later on if their “friendships” were in peril. He hated that shit so much.

But with Layla, she just felt genuine. She seemed like she wasn’t the type of person to put herself on a pedestal. She just seemed normal. That night at the party, she talked to them about normal things like what she liked to do in her spare time and that she wasn’t necessarily a party person anyway. Chris learned she was a few years older than him, was from North Carolina (thank God, another East-Coaster, he thought to himself, relieved), had some siblings, and had a black and white cat named Knight. He remembers her pretty-sounding, delicate voice telling her, “I would let you meet him one day,” ending her statement with the cutest, shyest chuckle.

And Layla was fucking gorgeous, too. Her deep brown eyes were warm and inviting. He couldn’t stop looking into them the night they met. She had the cutest little button nose, pretty lips, and a great sense of style that he honestly envied.

She was just so perfect. He didn’t know much about her personally yet, but he was absolutely ready to learn more.

Actually, was he ready? If he was actually ready, he wouldn’t be pacing back and forth in his room the way he was now. His heart wouldn’t be pounding the way it was now. He wouldn’t be trying to script what to say to her in his head right now. Fuck…

***

There was a knock on Nick’s bedroom door.

Nick took his headphones off and rested them around his neck. “Yes?”

“Hey,” Chris said to Nick as he slowly creaked the door open. “I just,” he sighed and shook his head to ease himself a bit, “I can’t sleep.”

Nick’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t question Chris any further. “You can come sleep with me,” he suggested, noticing the anxiety in his brother’s face as Chris opened his bedroom door. They had slept in the same room before, so this wasn’t any weird to him. He shuffled to one side of his bed to make room for Chris, clearing off anything on that side and placing it on his nightstand. “What’s wrong?”

Chris sighed. “I don’t know. I know I’m a bit anxious, I just don’t know what’s making me feel that way.” He couldn’t look up at Nick; something made him feel too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

Nick looked over at Chris with a concerned expression. “Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?”

Chris shook his head and sighed.

“Good, because I would’ve kicked their ass.” He thought for a moment before continuing. “Is there something coming up that you’re nervous about?”

His brother seemed to jump at the last question, as if he was caught red-handed. “Well, kinda-sorta.” Chris brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, a sort of self-soothing gesture.

“Kinda-sorta?” Nick chuckled. “What is it? The meeting with Laura tomorrow morning?”

“No…” Chris’s face hid in his knees. “The other thing tomorrow…”

Nick sat for a moment to think before suddenly remembering recording a podcast episode with Layla on that day. “The podcast episode with Layla?”

Chris nodded, still hiding his face. “Mhm.”

“What? Why?” Before Chris even responded, Nick’s memories suddenly flashed back to the time at the pizza shop. Chris seemed so smitten by her being brought up. The way his face reddened, the way he tried to seem not as interested as he actually was- it all made sense. And now was the time he could ask him about it.

“Chris…” He threw one of his arms around Chris’s upper back and placed the hand onto his shoulder, “I feel like I know why you’re so nervous about that.”

Chris’s head jolted from between his knees, and he brought his eyes to look into Nick’s, his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. “Yeah, I like her. A lot. Which is weird because I’ve only met her once. But, I don’t even know how to express that. Do I even like her?”

Nick rubbed Chris’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re good. I understand what you’re saying.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Chris said, sighing as he leaned into Nick’s body.

“No, I’m not.” Nick paused. “Well, kinda? But, that doesn’t mean what you’re feeling is invalid.”

Chris didn’t respond.

Nick continued, “Listen, you liking her after meeting her in-person once isn’t a bad or weird thing. It’s just the way you feel, which is valid and genuine. I personally wouldn’t say you’re ‘in love’ with her yet. It’s a crush. But, you just need to talk to her to get to know her more. Maybe that will help you assess your feelings better.”

“But, how?” Chris silently yelled, throwing his arms down onto the mattress in frustration. “I can’t just walk up to her tomorrow and be like, ‘Hey, I think I like you, but I don’t really know yet. Can I please get to know you so that I can get back to you with updates later?’”

An imaginary lightbulb went off in Nick’s head. “I have an idea.”

Chris sighed. “Like what?”

Nick became giddy over the plan he had and immediately went into details. “Okay, so she’s coming over tomorrow. How about I find some way to make you guys spend time together? Alone. Without me and Matt.”

Chris looked at Nick puzzled. “How would that happen? Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“Not if the excuse is reasonable!” Nick grinned.

Chris chuckled. “And what’s the excuse you have in mind?”

Nick scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously as he processed Chris’s question. “I… uh… haven’t come up with one yet. But, when it does come up, trust me, it will be great!”

“Y’know what, Nick?” Chris smirked. That’s not that dumb of an idea.”

Nick smiled back. “I would prefer a ‘Nick, you’re such a mastermind’, but I guess this suffices.”

“Suffices?”

Nick’s smile immediately dropped and he rolled his eyes. “Ugh, just go to bed.”

“You’re not gonna cuddle with me?” Chris asked, pouting and making grabby-hands like a child that needed physical affection from their parents.

“What is up with you and pouting lately? And no, I’m doing something on my computer. You’ll be okay.”

Chris sighed and turned to face the other side of the room. He curled himself into a comfortable position, and managed to fall asleep soundly. That talk with Nick definitely calmed him down a bit.

Nick looked over to his brother and smiled, rubbing Chris’s back as he felt him sleep soundly. Fuck, I gotta think of the plan…, he thought.

***

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The sound of Layla’s alarm went off, and Layla awakened from her deep sleep, her hand reaching out to turn it off. Today was the day of her collaboration with the triplets, and she was not wasting any time to put herself together.

She quickly did her morning routine, using the best-looking products she had and wore her best makeup. She went to her closet and pulled out her best outfit. Her cat Knight walked over to his bag of food, as he usually did in the morning, which Layla knew was his signal to feed him. As soon as she walked over, he meowed and stared at her as she poured his food into his bowl. She looked down at him and the smile on her face went away as she realized she would have to be away from him for the day.

Layla lived alone after moving from South Carolina to LA, and usually she would have one of her LA friends watch him. Unfortunately, they were all pretty busy, so she didn’t have anyone. So, she thought of an idea. “Hey, Knighty. You wanna come with mommy to work?”

Knight looked up at her and meowed.

Layla pulled out her phone and facetimed Nick. After a few rings, he picked up the phone with a smile on his face. She could hear rustling and the clanging of metal in the background from Nick’s side.

“Oh, sorry about the noise. The washing machine is broken so we’re trying to fix it- Chris, no, don’t hammer the fucking outlet, are you dumb?!”

“It’s coming out of the wall!” Chris could be heard responding in the background.

“No, put the fucking hammer down!!” Nick could be seen leaving the frame of his camera, followed by a small slapping sound, which Layla could assume that he slapped Chris. “We don’t even need a hammer!”

Layla chuckled before Nick came back on frame. “Sorry about that, Layla. Chris was being a complete idiot,” he visibly rolled his eyes, “So what’s up?”

“Okay, so I have a bit of a problem…”

Nick’s eyes widened a bit. “Uh-oh, what’s wrong?”

“So I don’t have anyone to watch my cat, and I don’t wanna leave him alone. So…”

“OH MY GOD!” Matt’s face popped up on screen over Nick’s shoulder. “Please bring him over! I wanna meet him so bad… Please?”

His slightly whiny tone of voice amused Layla. “Only if all of you are fine with it. I don’t just wanna bring some random animal at your ho-”

“Please… I swear Chris is fine with it, right Chris?” He paused to look away from the camera, presumably to look at Chris for a response, then turned back to face the screen, “Yep, he’s okay with it! And I know Nick is, too.” Matt looked down at Nick, rubbing his shoulder slightly forcefully in a way to persuade him.

Nick swatted Matt’s hand from his shoulder. “Yes, you can bring him over. You didn’t have to ask, but thanks for doing it anyway. Some people would have a pet snake and just bring it over without asking like a weirdo.” He smiled at the screen.

Layla smiled back, “Thank you, guys. I'll be seeing you later!”

Then there was a loud thud. “Matt…” Nick’s eyes glared off-camera. “Anyways, see ya later, Layla!” He smiled and waved until the call ended.

Layla went on the rest of the morning thinking about what would happen later. She was so excited to see the boys again and get to know them. Especially Chris.

She first watched the brothers last year when she came across a compilation of their funny moments on Tiktok. They were so funny, and she could relate to them with so many opinions and ideas.

When she met the brothers for the first time at Larri’s party, they were so nice to her and had such a great vibe. But Chris was unique. He immediately stood out to her. His energy, his charisma, his pretty face, his smile, his style- they all made her melt. He even smelled so fucking good, despite the “stinky” jokes that his brothers teased him about all the time. She couldn’t wait to smell him again.

***

Layla finally made it to the boys’ house, and she texted them of her arrival. She stepped out of the Uber with Knight’s crate in her hand, and walked down their yard, where she finally saw Nick standing outside waiting for her. He smiled so brightly and immediately extended his arms for a hug.

“Oh my god, hey!!” He said as he hugged her. “How are you? You look great, by the way!”

Layla smiled. “Thank you so much! You look good too!” She replied. “I’ve been alright, work’s just been taking up some of my free time. But otherwise, things have been fine.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I know you edit all your videos, and I definitely know how exhausting that is. Unfortunately, those two don’t know how to fuckin’ edit”, he rolled his eyes playfully at the mention of his brothers before continuing, “And you’ve been traveling a lot too, so that’s double exhausting.” He chuckled, making her let out a small giggle in tandem. “Well, I won’t keep you standing outside in this heat for any longer.”

Standing like a proud magician introducing his opening act as he opened the house’s door, Nick exclaimed with the widest grin on his face, “And welcome to our humble abode!”

Layla put Knight’s cage down and looked up at the sight. It had a modern look to it, a monochrome color scheme, and little things of the boys’ that scattered in the living room and on the kitchen island. Their home was sweet and simple, but the real charm was the fact that she instantly felt safe there. Something about it, whether it was the smell of clean linen with a hint of cologne, or the little items that you could figure out which belonged to which sibling, or if it was the simple fact that it was owned by these three well-mannered men, Layla just instantly felt safe. And she could tell that her cat felt this same security as well, as he had made a straight B-line to their couch as soon as she opened his cage, laying on one of the throw pillows and getting himself comfortable as if he were at his own home.

It was something about Layla’s presence that made Chris feel safe as well. He didn’t know her for a long time, of course. It was weird, but it just felt normal. She felt normal. She wasn’t some crazy obsessed fan who knew his every move, how many pairs of shoes he owned, or what his favorite Lil Skies song was. She was just a normal girl who happened to do a similar job to him. A normal girl with the most beautiful face that he wished he could stare at for a very long time. Was he the weirdo? Maybe.

“Hey Layla!” Matt said as he walked down the stairs, Chris following right behind him.

Chris smiled slightly, nervousness creeping up his spine as he inched closer to Layla and Nick.

“Hey, guys!” Layla walked up to Matt as he walked into the living room and they shared a quick hug. “How’ve you been, Matt?”

Matt smiled. “Everything’s fine with me…” He started to look around as if he were looking for something.

“Knight’s over there, Matt,” Nick said with a deadpan tone, pointing towards the couch. It was quite comedic for Layla to see Matt be interested in the cat more than anything else in that moment.

Matt’s eyes widened as well as his smile as he walked straight towards the couch and sat down beside the cat. He put his hand in front of Knight’s nose to allow him to get used to his scent. After a couple of sniffs, Knight nuzzled Matt’s hand and climbed onto his lap, getting right back to sleep as Matt stroked his fur.

Layla smiled at the sight. “Aw, that’s too cute! I’ll have to take a photo!”

Nick replied, “I’ll take one and send it to you.”

“Thank you!” Layla responded before turning to face Chris, who stood awkwardly as if he were caught doing something naughty.

And to some extent, he was doing something naughty. He stared at her the entire time through Matt and Knight’s wholesome interaction. He loved seeing how heartfelt she was at the sight. Her eyes smiled alongside her beautiful lips. When she turned back around to face him, he shot his face down towards the ground feeling guilty, hence the awkward pose.

Layla walked up to Chris with extended arms and hugged him tightly, their embrace lasting longer than the ones she shared with Nick and Matt, and quite similar to the hugs they shared at Larri’s party.

Nick watched Chris and Layla’s hug, a smile hidden between his lips. He didn’t want to make it obvious how much he knew of Chris’s feelings for her. It would ruin his whole plan of getting them together in the first place.

“How’ve you been, Layla?” Chris asked, his voice having a bit of a flirty tone that he hoped she didn’t pick up on.

Layla did pick up on it. She thought it was sexy since the first time she watched him in videos, and thought it was even sexier in person. She replied to his question the same way she replied to Nick’s earlier, but reciprocated a tinge of the same flirtatiousness underneath. “I’ve been good. Kinda tired because of work, but overall I’m okay.”

Chris smirked warmly. “That’s good. Glad to see you again.”

Layla nodded and gulped at the sight of his smirk- it was hot. “Y-you, too.”

After this, Nick and Layla walked around the living room and kitchen area, having a mini chat and a tiny tour of the areas, while Matt and Chris walked upstairs to the podcast room. They made sure the room was spick-and-span for their guest beforehand, but they just wanted to do a little check-up of their set-up before the podcast session officially started.

“She seems so sweet. I’m glad she said yes to this.” Matt wiped down the table with a disinfecting towel, smiling to himself as he thought of how well the day would go.

Chris distractedly responded. “Yeah…”

Matt picked up on Chris’s distracted tone and looked over at him. He noticed the concerning nervous look on his face. “You alright, Chris?”

“Yeah,” he answered a bit irritated, “I’m good, Matt.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I was just askin’. Get the stick outta your ass.”

Chris sighed. “Sorry, I’m just focusing right now.”

“Focusing on… dusting?”

Chris looked down at the duster in his hand and rolled his eyes as he put it down. “No,” he paused for a moment to think of a better excuse than admitting his crush on Layla, “I’m focusing on the podcast questions we’re gonna ask Layla.” Perfect.

Matt chuckled, “Well that’s a first. You never think of the questions.”

“Well, maybe I’m growing,” Chris said with a smile at the end. He felt bad to lie to Matt, but with Nick knowing of his secret, telling Matt would feel like too much.

“Ooookay?” Matt reacted confused, but went along with it as they continued to prepare the room.

***

Throughout the filming of the episode, Layla could feel Chris’s gaze on her, like the heat of a fire warming against her skin. Everytime she looked over at him, his blue eyes, piercing yet soft, would be directed towards her. All of her answers to his questions as well as his brothers’ weren’t left unanswered. She could feel that he was actually interested in whatever she had to say.

And he was truly intrigued by the conversations they were having, never missing a beat to interject on a topic that he felt passionate about. That’s what Layla loved about him: his passion. She loved how hype he would get whenever they spoke on things he enjoyed like music, food, and their childhoods. His body would shift and jolt in a way that really portrayed how excited he was about those topics, and Layla was elated to see it.

However, Chris did notice that whenever he was the one to speak to Layla, whether it was asking her questions or interjecting his own opinions that he had hoped she picked up on, Layla would stumble on her words. He didn’t think it was any sort of nervousness, and definitely did not suspect the stuttering to be caused by her being frustrated with some sort of crush on him that he didn’t know about (although that absolutely was the reason why she stuttered). But he thought her stammering, especially in their interactions, was adorable regardless and didn’t mind it.

The four of them went on to discuss their favorite places and pastimes in their hometowns, how it compared to LA life, and interjecting some funny (more so embarrassing) moments from their lives in the conversations. The boys asked questions about Layla’s influencer career and how her life’s journey had been to this point as well as her plans for the future. It wasn’t a bad video at all.

***

The podcast finally ended. Nick rose from his seat, taking a couple of stretches before finally standing to put his sneakers back on. Matt followed in suit, holding his cup in his hand, making sure not to spill the contents of it as he picked up his sweater from beside him. Chris noticed his brothers gathering their contents and his eyebrow rose. “Where are you two going?”

Matt zipped his hoodie up and dug his empty in his pocket searching for his keys. “Nick texted me during the pod and said that he wanted to go to Chick-Fil-A for some food.”

“I got the munchies,” Nick inserted.

Layla stood up from her seat and grabbed her purse. “Oh, okay, I’ll follow you guys, if that’s okay. I’m kind of hungry-”

Nick quickly looked over at Layla and suggested, “No, no, no! You can stay here!” He noticed the anxiousness of his voice and quickly cleared his throat before continuing, “Me and Matt will get the food. You’re our guest, right?”

Layla nodded, albeit a bit confused by the suggestion.

Nick smiled. “Yeah, soooo,” elongating the “so” for emphasis, “you can stay here! Chris will take care of you. Right, Chris?”

Chris’s cheeks became a sharp shade of red after processing what his brother had said. Take care of her? What the fuck was Nick saying? Noticing everyone’s eyes on him as he was stunned by Nick’s words, Chris cleared his throat and replied, “Yeah, Layla. I’ll stay here with you.”

Layla was just as stunned by what was happening- moreso, what was about to happen. She was going to be left alone. With Chris. The guy she’d been thinking about since she first met him. No, she was thinking about him since she first came across his content. And now they’re alone. Together. In his house. And he looks good. And smells good. And-

The sound of the door squeaking open interrupted her thoughts. “‘Kay, guys, see ya later! Don’t freak Layla out too much, Chris,” Nick said.

“Shut up!” Chris snapped back at his brother jokingly, watching him and Matt leave before hearing the door shut.

It was just the two of them now. Chris and Layla.Together. Alone.

And yet, silence.

Until Chris said, “Hey.”

Layla smiled. “Hey.”

They were still sitting across from each other still in the podcast room, so there was no way for them not to notice each other’s presence.

Chris didn’t want to ignore her anyway. It would be rude of him to go on his phone and distract himself. She was a guest- he had to be a good enough host for her. Also, how could he ignore such a beautiful lady in front of him? He had to say something. “So, what do you wanna do?”

Layla shifted in her seat, making herself comfortable- or at least trying to. “I don’t know.” She chuckled to herself. “What do you wanna do?”

Ugh, why would she phrase the question back to me??, He thought. “Um… Well, I don’t know. Maybe we can just talk?”

“About what?” Layla lifted an eyebrow curiously.

Chris’s cheeks started to tint with red. “Maybe…” he raised a finger as he came up with an idea, “20 Questions?”

Layla laughed, and the reaction caused Chris’s cheeks to redden even more with embarrassment. He tried to cover it up with an explanation. “I know, it’s a stupid idea but maybe it can help us get to know each other personally? Unless you don’t want to-”

“Okay, go for it.” Layla smiled as she leaned back in her chair, now sitting as if she was ready for any questions he would hit her with.

Chris was shocked at her readiness. “Oh, wow, okay!” He bit his lip as the gears started to turn in his head, and the screwing of his face made Layla blush. “I gotta think of a question…” He took - couple of seconds and then-

“Alright,” the boy started. “What was your first impression of me?” Chris asked, leaning back into his chair similarly to her, and smirked. A ballsy question, yes, but one he was genuinely curious about.

Layla turned her head away from him slightly to avoid the sight of his smirk. Every fucking face he makes is so sexy, she thought to herself. “First impression? Like in person or in videos?”

Chris tried to keep eye contact with her, tilting his head a bit forward to get back in her field of view. “Either.” He shrugged, not out of disinterest, but rather the opposite, absolutely wanting to hear both perspectives of her thoughts.

She smiled as she thought about him. “I thought you were a good guy. At least when I started watching the videos.”

He raised one of his eyebrows, but the smirk remained as he let out a small scoff. “Just a ‘good guy’?”

Layla shifted her legs in her seat, the scoff and smirk combo making her a bit… aroused. “Okay, a great guy. Is that better?”

Chris laughed. “I’ll take it.” He paused before continuing, “And in person?” Here’s where it gets juicy.

Layla chuckled involuntarily out of nervousness before she answered. “You were bigger than I expected.”

Chris looked at her curiously. “Bigger?” He thought for a moment and then chuckled. He had the urge to make a joke, a rather inappropriate one along the lines of ‘you know what else is big?’, but the urge quickly subsided and led to a teasing question. “What- did you think I was that short?”

Layla immediately defended herself. “No, no! You just seem so… ‘skinny white boy from the Northeast’-esque. If that makes sense. Like Timothee Chalamet, y’know?”

“Hm. Okay,” he replied, but kept up the teasing aura. “ So you mean bigger as in more muscular? Or bigger as in thicker… like I got a fat ass?”

Layla rolled her eyes. “Let’s go with the first one ‘cause that second one is a reach.”

Chris fake-frowned. “You don’t think I got cake?”

Layla scoffed. “Shut up! Just take the compliment!”

Chris laughed as he felt Layla kick him playfully under the table. “I’ll tell you what I first thought about you.”

Layla placed her elbows on the table and put her face in her hands as she looked at Chris intriguingly. “Ooh, I’m excited.”

Chris’s teasing smirk softened into a warm smile as he began to think of the times he first came across her and her content. “Well, I knew of you before Larri’s party through little clips of you on TikTok. You just had this inviting smile and warm energy that automatically drew me in. I would see you in little funny compilations from your vlogs and GRWM videos, and your humor was kinda similar to mine. I was intrigued by you. And that’s when I started watching your videos.”

As he spoke, Layla thought about how she came across him- literally almost the same way. It was interesting. A coincidence? Maybe. A lot of people around their age come across people like that. But it was cute regardless.

Chris went on. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about when I watch your makeup tutorials or fashion try-on hauls or whatever…” he let out a small laugh then continued, “But I don’t mind it. Just your energy, your laughter, your beauty- both inside and out- were enough to get me hooked on you.”

It seemed as if Chris was genuinely pouring his heart out. “And in person, whoaaaa,” he leaned back in his chair in a way that emphasized his whoa, “The first time I met you in person, your beauty was just 10 times more intense. Like, you were pretty on my phone screen, but in person? Right up close? Wow. Amazing.” His cheeks tinted red again. “And you’re a great hugger. Your perfume just stayed in my nose for days after that.”

Chris was so caught up in his proclamation that when he finally noticed the girl’s beautiful cheeks becoming tinted with blush, he stopped himself from getting deeper and called her out jokingly to cut the tension. “You’re blushing!”

Layla lowered her head when she saw his finger point at her. “Blushing? I’m brown-skinned, how could you tell?”

“Your cheeks are a bit of a…” he leaned in closer to her, and she could definitely feel the heat now; it was obvious to the both of them, “They’re a chestnut color. Mahogany, if you will.”

“‘Mahogany if you will’”, Layla couldn’t help but mock the words from his lips. “You’re stupid, you know that?”

“Yeah?” He leaned back against his chair. “Is that another trait about me that you forgot to mention?”

She nodded and a teasing grin popped up on her face. Yes, she was teasing him now, but the grin was a bit more of a facade as to how she truly felt in that moment: aroused.

It was almost as if Chris knew of her growing desire as he continued to press her. “And what else?”

Layla noticed the same stupid, smug smirk on his face as he egged her on. “You’re stupid, and sloppy, and weird.”

“Uh-huh…” His irises seemed to grow darker as the tension between them became more palpable. “What else? Any positives?”

Silence.

“I’m waiting.” He sang in a teasing tone.

“Well, you’re…” One of Chris’s eyebrows rose in intrigue as she continued, “… creative.”

“Thank you! Well, I was waiting for ‘handsome’, but ‘creative’ is good enough.” He suddenly realized his flirtatious nature and questioned himself, What the fuck am I saying?

“‘Good enough?’” Layla scoffed playfully. “Well I’ll give you something even better than handsome then, since you’re so desperate.” She stood up suddenly and walked towards him, bending herself down to face him up close. She leaned into his ear, her breath brushing by the skin of its helix. “You’re sexy.”

What the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck- was all that repeated in Chris’s mind. What. The. Fuck. Sexy? Me??

As if reading his mind, Layla added, “Yeah. You’re sexy. Your eyes, your lips- even your nose is sexy,” Layla’s tone sounded like she was admitting this nonchalantly, but as she realized the impact of her statements, her eyes began to widen and her heartbeat gradually sped up.

“Damn.” That’s all Chris could say at that moment. One explicative that was enough to express his shock. Damn. His eyes widened and if he didn’t have some sort of control of his reaction, his jaw would’ve fallen to the floor.

He fully faced her as he turned his body around, his nose now nearly touching hers. Their faces were nearly centimeters apart. If a kiss didn’t happen now, there wouldn’t be another chance.

So Chris kissed her. His lips pressed against her abruptly, yet with a hint of tenderness that allowed Layla to feel comfortable and not pressured to reciprocate it. Layla leaned into the kiss, her eyes closed and lips enveloped into the passion of the moment. Although the kiss lasted at most 10 seconds before Chris pulled away, there was an undeniable spark between them and a force that almost pulled them back into each other again. Almost.

Chris moved his head backward to look at Layla and her reaction to his sudden action. She looked pleased, but he wanted to really make sure. Really, really make sure. His hand caressed her face with a gentle touch, his thumb rubbing her cheek.

“Just fucking kiss me again”, Layla said in response, rolling her eyes at the boy before she could feel his hand grip onto her jaw and pull her into his lips. They were soft and tasted like cherry lip balm, the flavor shocking Layla, but she didn’t mind as she melted into his grasp and allowed him to take a hold of her face and mind. She then climbed on top of him, her legs now wrapped around his waist as she sat on his lap.

Chris’s hands felt an urge to roam her body like they were already on her face, but he controlled himself, not wanting to cross any boundaries without her permission. Feeling heated, he began to remove his sweater and Layla helped him with this as she saw him struggle with his movements as he focused on the passion of the kiss.

Chris sighed as they pulled away from their kiss for a second to process what was happening. “Fuck, I haven’t kissed anyone like that in a while. I feel so…”

“So what?”

“So… good. Layla, I need you. Fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Chris,” Layla placed her hand on his chin, rubbing it in soft movements in a subtle way to soothe him. She could tell he was getting a bit anxious. But she could also feel how much he wanted to move the moment even further. “Chris, you’re okay. You’re with me, alright? Do you need me?”

Chris nodded, not being able to say much other than a “mm-hm”.

“Tell me what exactly you need me to do. I’ll take care of you,” Layla pressed her forehead against his and stared into his eyes, making sure that any changes in his face weren’t due to any discomfort or unease. “I promise, I will take care of you. Just tell me what you need.”

Chris’s breath hitched in his throat. He never thought he would get this nervous about a girl. Like ever. At least not in a long time. But, Layla? Fuck, she was something else. He watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed at a slow pace, which he took as a signal in his own consciousness to control his own breathing and relax. He would need to if he really wanted this moment to progress. “I need you to make me feel good. I need you to feel good, too.”

Layla began to move her hips back and forth against Chris’s lap, small breaths of pleasure escaping her lips as the ache between her legs was now being soothed by his touch. He watched her for a minute, taking the time to really process what was happening. His hands slowly started to grasp her hips, not yet applying pressure, but just holding onto her to get used to the way she felt in his hands. The girl bit her lip and started to whimper as she grinded down with more desperation, which Chris took as a sign to kiss her forehead and her cheek to soothe her a bit. He looked into her eyes and bit his own lip, nodding as he watched her pleasure herself with his body. “There you go… you look so pretty like that.”

Layla moaned in response at his praise, and Chris smiled as he began to help her grind on his lap, his hands gripping onto her hips and moving them back and forth. Their breathing escalated, sending them both in a spiral as they started to both find an orgasm subconsciously.

But Chris stepped out of the moment as soon as he felt himself nearing the precipice. He didn’t want to end this moment prematurely. “Get on your knees,” was all he instructed her as his eyebrows furrowed in sexual frustration. He wanted to make this beautiful girl in front of him unravel herself before he would with the limited amount of time they had alone together.

His sudden request caught Layla off guard, causing her eyes to widen and her actions to freeze. She looked at him in a way that she could recalibrate herself to actually take his commands, and finally did, getting off of him and settling onto her knees. Her widened eyes looked into his again, awaiting for another command. Something about the man in front of her and the situation they were in made her desire to be submissive in this moment.

Layla began to pull his pants down to his ankles but left his boxers by his thighs for precaution if someone happened to walk in. She wouldn’t wanna traumatize his brothers with the sight of her gagging on his dick.

“Yeah, pull my dick out, fuck…” He threw his head back as he felt the air of the room hit his bare cock. “Fuckkk…” He needed to feel her lips around him- or anything for that matter- right now.

Layla immediately started to rub his shaft, both of her hands around it as she began to move them up and down. She gathered some of the precum leaking from his tip to lubricate him somehow, but it wasn’t enough for Chris.

“Spit on my dick, please,” he requested with pouty lips, his head still thrown back, but his fingers found their way in Layla’s hair for some sort of comfort. “Just spit on it-” her saliva landed on his dick and she began to rub it in- “Good girl…” He ran his fingers through her hair in appraisal.

“Look at that pretty fuckin’ face…” Chris purred as he brought the same hand down in her hair down to caress her jaw, his thumb rubbing soothingly against her cheek. He noticed her looking back at the door repeatedly when she first kneeled down, and wanted to reassure her. “I see you wanting to look at the door, but don’t worry about anyone barging in here. We’ll hear the front door from up here when they get back,” he explained to further comfort her before getting her to do anything further.

Layla smiled and nodded at Chris as she continued to massage his shaft, causing him to bring his hand back to her hair and tug on it a bit. “O-okay,” he stammered, “I want you to suck me off, okay? Use those cute fuckin’ lips of yours on my dick.”

He watched as the woman kneeling before him wrapped her plump, glossed lips around the head of his dick, the contact making him unconsciously buck into her mouth a bit deeper than they both expected. He quickly stabilized himself onto the chair and anchored his feet on the ground, hoping to control his body from making that mistake again.

Layla began to bob her head up and down his shaft, each and every repetitive motion causing him to wince and groan in pleasure. It was a pleasure he hadn’t felt from another person in a while; a pleasure he had to mimic with his own right hand, the same right hand he was using to grip onto Layla’s hair. He was in bliss, but he knew he couldn’t be there for a long time.

In realization of their limited time, Chris started to apply force with the hand gripping her hair, helping her to bob on his dick with more vigor. He bit his lip and curled his toes in his shoes as he could feel her tongue dance around the skin of his shaft, exciting every nerve that existed there. When the tip of her tongue would find its way back to the tip of his dick, licking around the hole, now that was heaven. And her lips? Fuck. Plump, cushiony, comfortable, kissable. He didn’t know what she was wearing that made them feel so warm, almost spicy, whenever she kissed his dick. Maybe it was that lip plumper she said she liked to wear in one of those old videos she did? Regardless, it was working its magic.

Layla felt equally as pleased, the feeling of his dick in her mouth making her moan and salivate around him. She knew she couldn’t get too sloppy since at any moment, anyone could walk through the doors and ruin her moment. But the feeling of his warm and slightly salty length and the outline of the veins that adorned it were enough to keep her going.

“Oh, you’re too good at this, baby,” he complimented her with a moan as she continued her movements. “Wish I got to feel you do this sooner. Feels like this is what I’ve been missing out on my whole life- Ah!” He let out a small yelp as Layla took it upon herself to bring his tip to the back of her throat.

Layla held him in the back of her throat, thrusting her head up and down to let him hit the opening of her esophagus. She let out little coughs as she did this, and her legs opened wider underneath her, allowing her to play with herself as she grew more hungry to feel him inside of her pussy.

Chris brought his head up from its laid back position and noticed her hand repeating circular motions between her sprawled out legs. He snickered, clearly entertained by her desperate attempts to please herself. “‘You having fun down there, princess?”

Layla only moaned in response as she continued to deepthroat him and grind against her fingers at once. The sound of her moan was heaven, and he wanted to open the gates in her pussy to hear even more.

“Okay, princess, this feels good and all but,” he used his hand to guide her off of his dick, her lips making a pop as they let him go, “I wanna fuck you so badly. And I know you want me too, right Layla?”

Layla moaned, “Uh-huh, please?” She couldn’t get many words out in her current state, but the blissed-out look on her face and the lust in her eyes spoke for her. She pouted at him as she watched him stand up from his chair, studying his body and face to figure out what they would do next.

Chris grasped both of her hands with his, helping her up from her knees. He quickly grabbed her face and kissed her, his lips missing the feeling of hers on them. Before she could even get comfortable in the kiss, he shifted her body so that she was now bent over the podcast table. Her pretty back and ass were the only thing in his view, and it was delectable.

Chris held onto his cock as he positioned it in front of her pussy’s entrance. He rubbed it between the lips, teasing her hole with his cockhead. Layla backed herself up against him and whined, wanting to feel him inside of her as the ache between her legs couldn’t handle the teasing any longer. But Chris shushed her and slapped his dick against her clit a couple of times, almost in some way to punish her, causing her body to jolt and her mouth to let out a little cry. “Shh, it’s okay. You’ll get it; just relax, mama.”

Layla bit her lip as she felt him tease her a bit more, constantly pushing only the tip in and then pulling it out just before her pussy could even grasp him. She whined and moaned and whimpered some more until finally, he pushed himself inside.

The girl let out a long, drawled moan, probably one of the loudest she’d ever made, and Chris groaned at the sensations happening around him. From the sound of the moan, to the feeling of her pussy wrapping around him and coating his dick, to the sight of this girl’s beautiful body, he didn’t know if he would last long.

Chris began his thrusts in her, staccato with a slightly fast tempo, which filled the room with noises of bodies interlocking with each other in a hungry dance of desire. Her ass made little ripples that made contact with his pelvis, and that was a delicious sight to see. Chris groaned and cursed underneath his breath as he felt her pussy tighten around him more with every second that passed. The feeling of her walls gliding against him caused a friction that heated up his entire body.

Layla was in a trance. She moaned with every thrust and leaned her face and upper body against the table as she felt her body not have control anymore. Chris’s thrusts were what she had hoped from him: exuberant and needy, but with a subtle praising hit against her G-spot that made her feel like the luckiest woman on Earth. In the chase of her nearing orgasm, Layla started to thrust back into him, matching her movements with his own.

The man noticed this and slapped one of her buttocks, making Layla yelp underneath him. He repeated this a couple more times, wanting to hear her beautiful cries like he was hitting the replay button of his favorite song. “Fuck, Layla, throw that fucking ass back on me, yes,” he moaned, bringing another slap to the already sore skin of the right side of her ass. “You’re just too fuckin’ pretty, you know that?” Chris asked rhetorically, and he leaned his body over Layla’s, his chest now to her back. One of his hands gripped her jaw, which was wet with some drool that ran from her o-shaped lips, and the other on her shoulder as he continued to make sharp thrusts against her G-spot. She tightened around him at his praise almost instantly, causing Chris to wince and tighten his clasp against her face. “Prettier when I’m balls deep inside of you, too.”

Layla moaned, doing her ever-best to throw herself back onto him. The contact of their skin became louder as the impact grew harder. She was close to her first orgasm.

And Chris knew this, as he felt her clench around him even tighter and saw her body thrust into him more impatiently. Chris couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle her. The way she felt against him, the way she moaned, the way her head would tilt backwards and he could see her eyes roll back in pleasure and a little drool run down from her mouth and onto the hand grasping her jaw- it was all too much. He did his best to hold back his orgasm, though. He wanted to make his pretty girl feel good. She deserved it. He bit his lip and then encouraged her, “Let it out for me, Layla… Let yourself go for me, okay?” He brought his hand, once gripped to her jaw, down underneath her stomach and its fingers found themselves between her legs, rubbing her clit to aid in her search for her orgasm.

Then, finally, she threw her head back and moaned loudly as she came around him. Chris noticed the cream that slid down his shaft as he began to pull out of her slowly, and if didn’t have control of himself, he would have cum from that sight alone.

But, Chris turned Layla’s body around and lifted her on top of the table, making her lay down and spread out for him as he got her ready for their next position. He checked the clock in the corner of the room for a second, seeing the time read 5:36. It’s been 20 minutes, which was longer than his brother’s usually took for a run to Chick-Fil-A, but he couldn’t help but to think that his and Layla’s extended period of alone time was all due to Nick’s impeccable plan. He owed Nick one for real.

Chris’s attention went back onto Layla as he gazed into her lustful eyes. She was still having her orgasm the way she was biting her lip and holding back a moan, and this made him chuckle to himself. He didn’t know he could make a pretty girl cum like that.

He leaned down and kissed Layla again, feigning thrusts between the lips of her pussy with his dick as he sucked her tongue. Layla moaned into the kiss, and Chris almost seemed to inhale her sounds of pleasure as he kissed her.

He removed his lips from her mouth and looked down, puckering them to spit onto her pussy. He tapped his dick against her pussy as he had done minutes before to tease her again, but he didn’t want to take long as it backfired and caused him to tease himself. So, he finally placed himself back inside of her cavern and moaned at the feeling of her wrapping herself around him again.

Layla cried out a moan and threw her head back as he started his thrusts again. She grasped her tits which were still covered by her shirt, and let out a “fuck” as she began to play with then.

Chris noticed her actions and helped her, pulling her shirt down and making her tits pop out from above it, and guided her hand back onto her tits with his own hands grasping onto hers. They both played with breasts in tandem, bringing a new-founded level of intimacy to their heated fuck session.

Suddenly, Layla’s fingers removed themselves from gripping her breasts to fully interlock with Chris’s hands. Chris’s heart jumped as he looked down and saw her do this. He didn’t expect it. He didn’t expect her to be so romantic in the midst of their sex. But, he loved it. Did this mean that she wanted to be romantic with him? Was she hinting at this being more than just about the sex? Or did she do this for her own comfort and self-soothing?

He felt his heart beat even faster from all of this thinking, so he distracted himself by increasing the pace of his thrusts and delving himself deeper in her warmth, feeling her tighten around him again. He then noticed her eyes open and looked into his, almost like she wanted something from him. “What else do you want me to do, mama?” He could hear Layla let out something that could have been words, but unfortunately came out as little sporadic whimpers. He watched as she ran her hand down her body and tenderly grazed against her clit, making a lightbulb go off in his head. “Rub your clit?” She moaned in response and threw her head back as Chris allowed his thumb to apply pressure and rub at her flesh. “It’s okay, I got you, baby,” he cooed.

Chris smirked as he saw her face scrunch up in pleasure as his thumb moved circles on her clit. She looked so adorable and sexy like this. “There you go! Oh, beautiful girl, look at your face! You like feeling me rub your pretty little clitty?” He heard her let out a cute whine in reply. He chuckled. “Good girl…”

Creeeaak! The entrance door of the house creaked open, and the two of them could hear the rustling of Nick and Matt walking into the house.

Chris’s face paled. “We don’t have much time, fuck.” He used the opportunity to increase his thrusts, but angled himself in a way where his skin wouldn’t slap against hers with force that could cause any loud noises.

He began to praise her more, knowing that she was a mess whenever he complimented her, and also knowing that it would make her near her orgasm faster. “You’re a pretty girl?”

Layla nodded and brought her thumb in between her teeth, biting down on it as she felt him go faster against her G-spot. “Mhm.”

Chris leaned down to her face, his nose tip-to-tip with her own, his eyes looking like they were staring directly into her soul, and the timbre of his voice verberating against her eardrums. “No, I wanna hear you fucking say it to me. Tell me you’re a pretty girl.”

“I- I-” Layla moaned quietly before she noticed Chris’s eyes becoming more frustrated as he came close to his own orgasm. She continued, “I’m a pretty girl.”

“Mm-hm, yes, you are..,” Chris agreed with a nod and a kiss, his lips missing hers due to his dazed state of nearing his climax. “Fuck, I gotta hear you cum, baby. You have such pretty moans- c’mon,” he grunted as he slapped her pussy with his fingers and then spread her pussy’s labia with his fingers.

Everything happening caused Layla’s back to arch and body to shake as she orgasmed. Chris felt her clench around him and looked down to watch the cream escape from her hole. “There you go… Good girl. Let it all out for me.”

Layla groaned as she moved her body to ride out her orgasm on Chris’s dick, causing Chris’s own body to shake. His balls clenched as he began to have his orgasm, but he made sure to pull out before making any of his cum slip inside of her. His white liquid shot out onto the outside of her pussy and a bit on her stomach, the feeling of it landing on her causing Layla to look down at the sight. Chris laughed quietly as he watched her. “Yeah, that feels good?” Layla nodded and he smiled proudly.

The two suddenly heard footsteps growing louder as Nick and Matt walked up the stairs. “Shit, shit, shit,” Chris grabbed a baby wipe and began to wipe her up, using a paper towel from the center of the table to dry her off. They helped each other to fix their clothes and look at least somewhat presentable.

“Hey, we’re baaack!” Nick sang as he swung the door open and walked into the room. He and Matt stood by the door, but Nick surveyed the area suspiciously, noticing the disarray of Chris’s hair and the way the table. “What are you two still doing here? Chris, I told you to make her comfortable.” He glared over at Chris, not because of Chris and Layla still in the room, but because of what he suspected happened in that room while he and Matt were away. It could take an idiot to know what happened, and unfortunately, he was Boo-Boo the Fool.

But Chris shrugged and responded to Nick’s question with zero hesitation. “Layla and I just got caught up in conversation.” He stood up and stretched, looking at Nick and Matt with a normal, unfazed face. He made sure he did his best not to look like he just had the best orgasm of his life.

And it worked, moreso when it came to Matthew. He didn’t suspect a thing, not even a hint of a crush between Chris and Layla in the first place. When he looked around the room, he noticed everybody giving each other looks and practically speaking with their eyes, but he didn’t fully understand why. So, he brushed off his confusion and spoke. “Okay, so we bought food for everybody. We can eat downstairs or in here; whatever works for you.*

“We can eat here,” Layla suggested. She looked over at Chris and noticed his entire body stiffen for a couple of seconds before he sat back down in his seat and nodded in agreement.

Nick smiled at Layla before looking at Chris, his eyebrows furrowing only a small bit at him as a hidden signal to his brother that he knew something was up. “Okay, let’s set everything up.”

Chris walked over to Nick and helped him get all of the food and drinks from the bag, before Nick gave him a small pinch on his arm. “We need to talk after this,” he whispered to him at a low pitch, so low to the point Chris could hear him growl. Chris chuckled and winked before walking off to set the table, taunting Nick in a way to tell him that he already knew what Nick wanted to talk to him about later.

All of them began to eat and shared casual conversations amongst each other, the energy of the room being calm and casual; quite the juxtaposition to how heated and desperate it felt a few minutes before Nick and Matt came back.

And Chris and Layla were very aware of this. The two shared a look that only they could understand- a certain smirk with a glint of satisfaction and requited feelings for each other in their eyes- and continued eating their food.

[seuonji]

彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan

part 1 ๑ part 2 ๑ part 3

notes ๑ daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — you’re a worker at the daycare and of course, your main priority is the safety of the kids. how’d you deal with an unfamiliar face trying to pick up one of the kids one day?

genre ๑ fluff, new interest.

warnings ๑ none

word count ๑ 1k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

it was a hectic but fun shift at your daycare job. the kids love you and you equally got along with them. your coworkers reasoned that it was because of your youthfulness that made working with them a breeze and you couldn’t disagree.

there was just 5 kids left and it was nearing the hour that would mean you’re working overtime but you didn’t mind.

the kids played with the toys around the room but you had just tidied up the place so they made sure to not make too much of a mess.

just as you were about to settle down on the floor, the doorbell rang signalling a parent was there. you instantly got up and chuckled at the way you didn’t even get to touch the floor.

you took a look to the glass entrance door to see who was there and usually you’d be able to recognise the parent/guardian but you have never seen this person ever. you looked over the kids in the room and back to the door. “i’ll be back okay, stay here,” you instructed to the kids who gave a sweet nod.

at the entrance stood a tall, lanky man. you couldn’t tell what his age could be but if you had to guess, he was probably your age or a bit older. he had hair that framed his face well and he was definitely someone that could brag about his looks. his appearance made your heart flutter.

often when you couldn’t recognise someone, you’d fear that this was a complete stranger, could be be those kidnappers but you didn’t get those vibes from him. or was it the pretty privilege?

you pressed the button which unlocked the door and he stepped in, “hi, i’m here for choi yuna,” he kindly spoke and shot a smile that could kill.

despite the looks that could sway you, you were hesitant. yuna was choi seungcheol’s daughter. you knew seungcheol was a busy man. he ran a big company but he never failed to pick up his daughter. plus he dropped her off in the morning and didn’t mention someone else would be picking her up which made this suspicious.

“im sorry, i need to know if you’re allowed to pick her up, how do you know her?”

“sorry! forgot to introduce myself, i’m yoon jeonghan, seungcheol’s secretary, he would've came but his meeting ran long so he sent me to pick yuna up.”

you were still unsure, you weren’t gonna take any chances for a case to happen, “can i make a call to seungcheol first?”

jeonghan let out a husky laugh, “you’re careful huh? what if i just showed you a picture of me and him together?"

“that won’t be enough.”

“alright but if you’re gonna call him, he’s could still be in his meeting i think your call will just be transferred.”

you already had your eyes on your phone but gave him a look as he said that. you still made the call and it instantly connected. “yn? is everything okay?“ the man on the other line opened with concern in his voice.

“hi mr.choi! yea, i just wanted to confirm that you sent someone else to pick up yuna?”

“ah- yes, im so sorry i just got out my meeting if i was the one to come yuna would still be there so i sent jeonghan. don’t worry, he’s a trusted friend! sorry for not letting you know.”

“no worries, just wanted to make sure,” you quietly sighed with relief. you said goodbye and ended the call. you stared at your screen and there was a loud silence for like 2 seconds until you closed your phone and lowered your head to the secretary, “sorry for making a hassle.”

he gave a sympathetic smile and waved his hands, pushing you back up, “no, don’t be! you’re just doing your job, it’s good your keeping these children as safe as you can. i’m glad you’re being this careful, if anything, if you weren’t so cautious i probably would’ve told seungcheol to find a new daycare.”

he was surprisingly nice.

“thanks,” you couldn’t hold back your grin. “um, i’m going to go get yuna.”

he nodded and you walked to the fence which led to the section of the room to the kids were in. jeonghan peered over and his eyebrows instantly rose. he didn’t know there were still children there. he got shocked that the kids weren’t checking if their parents were there. they were just sitting in a circle, playing and sharing the toys. usually they would be hoping the parents are here right? why weren’t they checking?

but jeonghan saw the way their face lit as you walked towards them. perhaps the environment was that good he thought to himself.

you held yuna’s hand and walked to the exit.

“i don’t want to go yet yn!” yuna clamoured. you softly laughed, “you’ll come back tomorrow.”

jeonghan silently watched you in confusion. were you an angel or something? kids love it when their parents are here, if anything, they cry at the absence of their parents right? yet someone like yuna who’s close their parents is clinging onto you.

“yuna!” jeonghan called out.

“uncle?” yuna beamed and ran to the older man, her height allowing her to only hug his legs.

jeonghan bent down and patted her head, “dad can’t make it so i’m here but we’ll see him in a bit okay?”

yuna nodded signing she understood. “did you bring your bicycle?” she asked with wonder in her eyes.

“bicycle?” jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows.

“the one you always come to my house with!” yuna hinted.

the man was left puzzled but also mildly embarrassed at the possibility that you’s think he uses a bicycle to get to places, “yuna, what bicycle?”

“the loud bicycle!”

“a motorcycle?” you chipped in.

“ahh—,” he did have a motorcycle. he was stunned and wondered what you thought of him— but actually, why does he care what you think.

jeonghan recollected himself, “your dad wouldn’t let me but hey, the car waiting for us outside has a tv!”

yuna was notably convinced the car was better especially with the way she hopped and cheered. you giggled at the way he changed her opinion so easily.

jeonghan stood up and held yuna’s belongings, “guess we’re good to go, say thank you to yn yuna.”yuna jumped to give you a hug and jeonghan waved a goodbye. soon, the two walked out.

you closed the door and deeply exhaled. you placed your hand over your chest yet your heartbeat couldn’t slow down. there was something about that man.

jeonghan looked back at the daycare’s door. he thought of the way his heart beated twice more than usual since he walked through that door.

was it you or the 5 sugars he put in his coffee that afternoon?

he shook his head and laughed after recalling the measures you went through to make sure he wasn’t a kidnapper or something.

“do you like yn yuna?” jeonghan turned to her. “why?” yuna dragged her words at the end. jeonghan inhaled stiffly forgetting about how yuna was in her ‘why’ phase. “just asking, so do you enjoy yn’s company?”

“of course! they're really nice! they always play with me and one time they bought me stickers!" jeoghan knew which stickers yuna was talking about. it was pasted somewhere in seungcheol's office and jeonghan made fun of him for it. his heart warmed at the way you seemed to be a genuinely good person. he’s known you for a few seconds but though your actions first impression, he could tell you were someone worth meeting and he liked people like that.

he really couldn't tell why but for some reason, he wanted to be the one to pick up yuna tomorrow.

luckily for him, he’s the secretary and he can manipulate his boss’s’ schedule however he’d like to.

[en-eunhee]

` ୨ ₊ THE REASON WHY EVERYONE HAS A CRUSH ON EUNHEE

SUMMARY. eunhee has an irresistible charm that makes every idol fall for her instantly

DANIELLE'S NOTE. wowie first fan made content!! i used my style for making the thumbnail so i hope you guys enjoy it >3< (+ small lsfm reference in here so if you catch it you know it)

— EUNCHAE STAR DIARY

eunchae's eyes sparkled as she recalled the moment she first met eunhee. "eunhee unnie, when you first walked in, i was so shocked. you're so tall and charismatic," she giggled, glancing at eunhee with admiration. can you teach me your ways? like, how are you so cool all the time?"

eunhee blushed, her usual calm demeanor slipping as she laughed. "what are you talking about, eunchae? i'm not that cool as you say." she said, a little shy.

"no, seriously. you just... have this presence," eunchae continued, beaming. "it's like you're walking in slow motion while everyone else is normal speed."

eunhee shook her head, laughing harder. "you're making me embarrassed now!" she said, trying to hide her flushed face. "but... maybe i can teach you a few tricks."

— BEHIND THE SCENES OF ENHYPEN MUSIC BANK

sooyoung stood at a distance, watching eunhee pose gracefully on the stairs as the manager snapped photos. eunhee looked effortlessly elegant, and sooyoung couldn't take her eyes off her. after a few moments, sooyoung pulled out her own phone and snapped a couple of candid shots of eunhee.

she glanced down at the pictures, her breath catching. "why does she look this good?" sooyoung muttered to herself, a small smile forming on her lips. "i’m gonna delete this photo," she joked, showing the picture to the camera "she looks way too good in it."

the manager laughed while sooyoung grinned, admiring the shot again. "actually, never mind. I’ll keep it for… research purposes," she added with a wink, completely whipped for eunhee.

— WEVERSE LIVE WITH SUNGHOON

on weverse live, sunghoon was casually chatting with fans when he spotted a comment that caught his attention.

he squinted at the screen, reading it out loud with a slight smile, "what’s your ideal type?"

leaning back, he thought for a second before his eyes lit up, a playful grin forming. "hmm... my ideal type? i like a girl who's, let’s see... 167 cm, enfj, born on may 17, and... looks like a black cat."

he smirked, clearly amused with himself. the chat exploded as fans realized how oddly specific his description was. with a soft, almost shy look, he added, “yeah... someone like that.”

it was obvious to everyone—sunghoon was completely in love with her.

— MUSIC BANK INTERVIEW

as eunchae smiled at eunhee. “eunhee-ssi, what’s something the fans don’t know about your preparations for this comeback?”

eunhee blushed, laughing softly. “well, i practiced the choreography a lot in my dorm room... sometimes even with a teddy bear as a dance partner."

jungwon’s eyes were fixed on her, entranced by the way her smile lit up the room.

eunchae grinned. “ah, that’s very cute, eunhee-ssi.” she turned to jungwon, “jungwon-ssi, can you please show us a key point of the choreography?”

jungwon blinked, suddenly realizing everyone was staring at him. “ah, oh wait, uh, our choreography has so many fun movements, but one key point is…” he stammered before laughing nervously.

— EUNHEE'S ENDING FAIRY

as eunhee finished her ending fairy moment with a soft smile and playful wink, heeseung couldn’t take his eyes off her. she looked effortlessly cute, and the way she held herself had him completely mesmerized.

seconds passed, but heeseung didn’t even notice. he was still staring, lost in his thoughts about her. then, it suddenly hit him—it was his turn.

startled, his eyes widened as he quickly shifted focus to his camera, throwing on a rushed smile.

— AWARD SHOW

as eunhee stood on stage, she blew a playful kiss to the crowd. in the audience, hanni’s eyes widened in surprise, caught completely off guard by the gesture. she blinked a few times, processing what just happened, before a huge grin spread across her face.

“did she just…?” hanni muttered to herself.

she leaning toward the person next to her, which was minji, “she’s seriously too good at performing.” she whispered, shaking her head with a fond smile.

— SUNOO'S EN-LOG!

sunoo was casually vlogging his "day in the life," chatting away as he sat down for a snack break. he grabbed his phone to check something, but then, with a sudden burst of excitement, he lit up and flipped the screen toward the camera.

"wait, wait, look at this!" he said, tapping on his phone and pulling up a picture of eunhee. "isn’t she so pretty in this photo?"

he stared at the picture for a second, completely smitten, a soft giggle escaping him. "like, seriously… how is someone this pretty?" he added, still showing off the photo.

sunoo smiled to himself before tucking his phone away, casually returning to his snack as if he hadn’t just shown the world how whipped he was for her.

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ when you tell them to stop doing what they are doing in a harsh way (but you didn't mean it) - RIIZE

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

You knew how much Shotaro loved taking pictures and videos of every moment, and normally, it didn’t bother you since you also loved having those memories captured. But that day, you were overstimulated and not feeling confident, and even though you had told Shotaro several times that you didn’t want him to take pictures of you that day, he kept pulling out his camera and snapping shots occasionally. At first, you tried to be patient, but eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop, Shotaro?"

Your words came out much harsher than you intended, and Shotaro looked at you, confused and a little disheartened.

"I’m sorry, it’s just… you looked really pretty."

Seeing how his smile had faded, you realized how harsh your words had sounded, and you regretted them immediately.

"No, I’m sorry, Taro… I’m just stressed, and… I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m really sorry."

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

You were at Eunseok’s place, having your usual video game night like almost every weekend. You two often played multiplayer games you’d find or just stuck to your favorites, and it was always a fun time. Eunseok could sometimes be a bit competitive and proud when playing, but it usually didn’t bother you. However, that day, you had a lot on your mind. The playful teasing that Eunseok usually did whenever he won wasn’t sitting well with you that time, and you couldn’t hold back.

"And like always, I won."

"Can you stop, Eunseok? There’s no need to rub it in every time you win."

Your words brought an awkward silence to the room. After a few seconds, you regretted what you’d said. You glanced at Eunseok, who looked confused by your reaction and just let out a small sigh as he looked back at the screen.

"Sorry, y/n, I just..."

"No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. It’s just that... I don’t know, I’ve got too much on my mind."

"It’s okay... Do you want to stop playing and talk about it?"

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

"Oh God, Sungchan, stop already..."

You said as you pushed Sungchan’s hand off your body. Sungchan loved skinship, and so did you. You loved how his large hands would rest on your body, especially on your hips, pulling you closer to him. But at that moment, there were too many people around, too much noise, and all you wanted was to escape the crowd and get home. As you rushed through the crowd, Sungchan placed his hand on your shoulder, and you reacted sharply.

Sungchan looked confused by your tone, and he didn’t speak for the rest of the walk home, not even when the crowd thinned out. He was clearly down, as he’d only been trying to help. When you got home and saw his mood, you started feeling guilty. You didn’t want to react that way. You approached him while he was drinking water in the kitchen and gently placed your hand on his cheek, making him look at you.

"I’m really sorry about earlier… I was just so stressed with all those people, and… I didn’t mean what I said."

Sungchan’s expression softened completely when he heard you, letting out a small sigh of relief as he smiled.

"Thank goodness… I thought you were really mad at me."

ᯓ★ WONBIN

Everyone knows how Wonbin gets when things aren’t going well in a game or when he’s losing. Unless he’s winning, he’s always complaining, saying the game isn’t fun, and wanting to switch to something else. It was something everyone found funny, seeing his mood change based on how the game was going. Most of the time, you laughed along, but for some reason, that day, Wonbin was being extra negative and whiny while you were showing him a game you loved. He kept saying he didn’t want to play anymore, even though he knew how much you liked that game.

"Can you stop complaining, Wonbin? It’s getting a bit much."

Wonbin’s eyes widened in disbelief. You had never spoken to him like that, and it clearly upset him a bit.

"Fine, I won’t say anything then," he muttered as he continued playing.

The silence that followed lasted a few minutes, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how harsh your words had sounded and how you could’ve said it differently. The regret kept growing.

"I’m sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have said it like that."

"It’s okay. I’m sorry for acting that way… I just don’t get how you’re so good at this game and I’m so bad," he murmured, letting out a small laugh.

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

You loved being in Seunghan’s arms, cuddling on the couch or in bed while watching a series together. It was always a peaceful time when you didn’t have to worry about anything else, just you and Seunghan, together. But that day, for some reason, Seunghan was in a playful mood and kept tickling you. You were pretty sensitive to tickles, and even the slightest touch on your skin made you squirm. You didn’t really like being tickled, and even though you were laughing, at a certain point, you couldn’t take it anymore.

"Seunghan, stop, or I swear…!" you shouted, pulling away from him.

"Whoa… okay, sorry," he mumbled, looking a little disheartened.

You looked at him for a few seconds, realizing that what you’d said wasn’t fair, so you quickly moved closer to him again.

"No, I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m too sensitive."

"It’s okay, baby. I should’ve stopped the first time you asked," he murmured with a shrug before opening his arms for you once again.

ᯓ★ SOHEE

Your final exams were approaching, and you were incredibly stressed. You were juggling classes, work, and studying, leaving you with very few hours of study time each day. The only good part was that during work, you could spend some time with Sohee, which helped you relax a little, though your mind was still constantly on your exams, rehearsing the material while you worked. At one point, while you were both preparing an order, Sohee murmured to you:

"Hey… How about you come over to my place tonight?"

"I can’t, Sohee. You know I need to study."

"I know, but… one night won’t hurt. You can relax and—"

"Sohee, stop. Don’t push it. I can’t, that’s it," you said, looking him seriously in the eyes.

You grabbed the tray and went to deliver it to the table, leaving Sohee standing there, frozen, unsure of what had just happened. You both worked the rest of the shift in silence, just doing your jobs. When it was time to leave, you walked over to Sohee and gently grabbed his arm, making him look at you.

"I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way…"

"It’s okay, y/n, I know how stressed you are. I shouldn’t have said anything."

"But… I do want to come over. It might actually help me clear my head."

Sohee’s eyes lit up when he heard you, and he took your hand with a smile as you walked toward his apartment.

ᯓ★ ANTON

You and Anton had been friends for as long as you could remember. You had always gone to the same school, high school, and now university. He had always been pretty protective of you, but you’d never really noticed it until this time. The university had organized a welcome party for the new students, and you were excited to go. You’d never been to a party before, so you were looking forward to it. But when you told Anton with a smile, that excitement quickly vanished.

"You’re not going to that party, are you?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?"

"It could be dangerous. You don’t know what people might want from you."

"But I’ll be careful, Anton. Besides…"

"No, I don’t want you to go."

You were stunned by his response. You couldn’t help but clench your fist in frustration. Why was he acting this way?

"Stop telling me what to do all the time, Anton. You’re not in control of my life."

You both stood in silence, staring at each other seriously for a few seconds. You had both said things that hurt each other, but you’d known each other long enough to realize it was wrong to talk like that without reason. After a moment, you both spoke at the same time.

"I’m sorry, I just…"

"I’m sorry, y/n."

You both laughed instantly, surprised you had said the same thing, and the tension melted away as you laughed at the situation.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

@enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123

@sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries

[seeingivy]

sweet irony

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

--

you stare down at your phone – the picture of you and sukuna cheesing into the camera staring back at you – as the quiet pulsating starts teeming in your head. 

he’s dead. you’ve wished him dead for years, hundreds of times in passing, and now he’s actually dead. 

and now you’ll have to tell yuuji. 

you take a beat before walking back into the sweltering hot air of the bar, the blaring music making your heart race as you push through the crowd. and it takes you twenty minutes before you reach the table where yuuji is again, standing still to watch as he leans his head against megumi on the stool, while nobara finishes off the last of his drink.  

you can’t help but pause, your heart sinking into the deepest pits of dread, as he digs the cherry in the drink out of the ice, as you walk up to his side, shaking at his shoulder. 

your dad is dead. 

“hey, you’re back! do you want the another?” yuuji asks, the stem of the cherry sticking out of the side of his mouth as he holds a shot glass in front of your face, almost tauntingly, 

“no, no. um –” 

your dad is dead. your piece of shit dad is dead and you have to leave. 

you take the glass from him, accidentally slamming it down too hard on the table to the point where it shatters, as yuuji looks over at you, eyes wide. there’s a quiet gasp as almost everyone around you gives you a weary look, before turning back to their own conversations. 

you look down at your hand, the smallest amount of crimson red staring back at you, as you ball your hand into a fist and ignore it. 

“jesus. you okay, she-hulk?” he asks. 

you look back up at him. 

“yeah, it’s fine. we have to go home.” you respond. 

“what? don’t tell me you’re going to start being a bore now that you’re old. we just got here and we’re not leaving until sukuna is dragging all four of us out on our asses.” yuuji responds, earning him a laugh and a smile from nobara and megumi. 

“just come with me. we can talk on the way.” you respond, reaching for his wrist as you start pulling.

“we’re celebrating your birthday! after someone ruined it, mind you…” yuuji jokes, pulling you back towards the table. 

“shut up! how was i supposed to know that maki and mai were going to make a scene?” nobara mutters. 

“you literally started the fight, nobara.” megumi mutters. 

“and i apologized for that!” nobara responds, reaching over to flick megumi in the side of the forehead. 

you place your hand on yuuji’s bicep, squeezing hard, as you feel hot tears in your eyes and an almost soreness in your throat – knowing that whatever you say next is irrevocably about to change something for him as you lean forward. 

“yuuji. your dad passed away, we…we have to go.” 

megumi and nobara turn their heads, the former spilling the drink in his glass all over the table. 

“what?” yuuji asks. 

yuuji subconsciously pulls his arm back, eyes incredulous as he looks down at you. 

“yuuji. really, i…” 

“what did you just say?” megumi asks. 

“i…i don’t know how it happened, sukuna was so brief on the phone when he asked us to come that..” 

“wait, what?” nobara says. 

“sukuna. he called me and asked me to bring yuuji back. or both of us, i don’t..” 

you watch as yuuji digs his phone out of his pocket – a plethora of calls from both sukuna and his mom shining on his screen – as he scrolls through the texts, before he looks back up at you and swallows hard. 

“i had more to drink than you did.” he responds, his voice stiff as gravel. 

the look in his eyes is haunting. his dad is dead. 

“i’ll bring the car around.” you respond. 

“megumi. go with her. sukuna would kill me if he found out i let her walk out there alone.” yuuji responds, his focus halfhearted as he looks down at his phone, dialing his mom’s number as he presses the phone against his ear. 

his dad is dead. he needs a second. 

megumi gives you a curt nod before linking in his arm with yours and pushing his way through the crowd, uncharacteristically rough as the two of you run out the doors. and you’re both speed walking down the block, hands shaking as you pull open the doors of the car, and shove the key into the engine. 

“oh god, his mom is probably losing her shit. she’s going to be a mess when we get there, megumi.” you mutter. 

you pull out of the spot, fighting the urge to honk at the hounds of pedestrians that cross, as you nervously twiddle your fingers on the wheel. 

“sukuna’s probably there, alone, right now.” you mumble. 

you feel your throat dry. 

“i hope that…that his dad’s not still there when we get there. i don’t even..” 

“i’m not coming.” he whispers.. 

you accidentally push the break too hard and the car jolts, shooting megumi an apologetic smile as one of the groups of pedestrians flip you off. 

megumi notes that what he said came out a little more harshly than he intended it to, but it’s only because of his frustration, and what the questions he knows are going to follow after. 

“what? of course you are, he’s…” 

“i mean, i can’t.”

you frown. 

“of course, you can. in fact, you should. he’s your boyfriend.” 

it takes a split second for you to realize why yuuji’s always so defensive when it comes to you and sukuna. surely megumi can’t be serious. 

“y/n.” 

“megumi. you spend like every waking second with the guy. what’s your issue now?” you seethe. 

“i’m not going to make things more complicated by meeting his mom for the first time on the night she became a widow, y/n.” megumi responds. 

you swallow hard, the soreness in your throat making your eyes water, as you give him a nod and clench the steering wheel so hard that it makes your skin nearly break. 

of course that’s why he couldn’t go. you’re an idiot. 

the stinging on your palm from the glass only gets worse as you pull up outside the bar, and honk twice for good measure. 

“one thing, y/n.” megumi states. 

“what?” 

“i know that sukuna is your person. but yuuji’s mine. please don’t forget to be there for him too.”  he begs. 

you reach forward, squeezing megumi’s hand in yours. 

“of course i won’t forget about him. i’ll send you updates, okay?” you whisper. 

he gives you a nod as yuuji and nobara come tumbling out of the front door a few minutes later, nobara pressing him into a hard hug before letting ago, and rubbing at her biceps in the cold. and it gets even worse as you watch megumi and yuuji – being so openly affectionate while not being black out drunk for the first time – as they lean their foreheads against each others, before kissing goodbye. 

the entire car shifts as yuuji sits in the car, eyes teary and sniffling as he looks over at you, and nods. 

“let’s go.” 

it feels wrong to leave megumi behind, but you do it anyway. 

--

it takes an hour and a half to get there. yuuji’s uncharacteristically quiet, leaning his head against the glass of the window, as you try to drive as fast as you can on the highway. your headache, the dread, the stinging in your hand – it all seemed to get worse as time goes on, as you get closer to your house, and to whatever’s waiting for you. 

halfway through you offer yuuji your uninjured hand, which he takes, and doesn’t let go of as the two of you walk to the porch. 

“wait.” yuuji whispers. 

“what? what is it?” 

yuuji pauses, heaving a sigh before he looks at you, eyes watery. 

“i want one more second of normal before…before i…” 

“of course, yuuji.” you mumble back, leaning forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, his arms shaking as he wraps them around you. 

and you get what he means – you can feel your heart sink as you hear the raised voices, and what you’re sure is mrs. itadori’s wailing, as you squeeze yuuji harder. 

“you’re always so warm, y/n.” yuuji mumbles. 

you give him a smile as you pull back and ring on the doorbell. and it’s a split second before 

sammy swings the door open, eyes wide as she wraps her arms around yuuji first. 

“hey kid. you okay?” she murmurs. 

“yeah, sam..” 

“the moms and sukuna are in the dining room. go, go.” she whispers, rubbing his back once more for good measure before pushing him in the right direction. 

and then sammy looks back at you, giving you a smile, before she immediately crumbles into a mess of tears. 

“holy shit, y/n. i’m so fucking glad you’re here.”

you open up your arms, taken aback by the mess of her braid and the state she’s in, as she tucks herself into your neck, her tears spilling onto your skin. and you rub circles into her back in unison with her panting breaths, before gesturing for her to explain. 

“he just collapsed out of nowhere. i was in the fucking bathroom for gods sake and i just heard them shouting before…before mrs. itadori literally screamed bloody murder…i just came out and..” she whispers. 

you squeeze her a little bit harder, her cries getting stifled into your shoulder as you whisper into her ear, trying to calm her down. 

“sammy.” you whisper. 

“his pulse was gone. i did cpr for twenty minutes before they got here and they said there was nothing i could have done. i’m a fucking nurse, for fucks sake, and i just…i don’t even…” 

“you did what you could have.” you murmur. 

you can tell that she doesn’t believe you. and that she’s in some kind of shock from the way her eyes are so lifeless – the only thing convincing you that she's still really there with you being the quiet breaths that leave her mouth. 

after ten minutes of holding her, she pulls back, wiping at her nose. 

“i can’t believe he’s dead.” she mutters miserably. 

“me too.” 

“is…am i shitty for being upset? he’s an asshole but…but he was around for so long and well –” 

“no, sammy. we’ve known him forever.” you affirm. . 

“you should check on sukuna, by the way. they asked him questions for a while when he got here, because…because mrs. itadori and i were too hysterical. mom helped but she didn’t know most of the stuff and..” 

you wonder if he had been afforded time to cry yet. though you knew how these things go and that somehow, he’d be the last one to get the privilege to process it all. 

“okay, come on.” you respond, the two of you linking your arms together as you walk into the dining room. 

you feel your heart pinch as you walk into the dining room – at the sight of both mrs. itadori and yuuji crying – with sukuna’s hand slung across yuuji’s chair. there’s an almost…gaunt look on sukuna’s face, devoid of any emotion, as he only locks his eyes with yours in recognition, before turning his attention back to yuuji.

you give a small wave to your own mother, who gives you a halfhearted smile, before placing a she places a glass of water in front of yuuji and mrs. itadori, and taking the seats next to them. 

sammy’s crying at your side again, quietly muffling her own tears into your shoulder, as you squeeze at her side, before setting her down in the chair before leaving to get her water. and  it’s only in the kitchen that you realize that the inner part of your hand is a bloody mess, with the stained red going all the way down to your wrist, as you walk over to the sink. 

“what happened?” 

you nearly jump to find sukuna at your side, leaning over your shoulder as he eyes the red in the sink, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, the wetness dripping onto his shirt. 

he doesn’t hug back. he’s softens underneath you, his shoulders less stiff, but he doesn’t hug back. 

“nothing. it was just a glass back at the bar. you…what happened to you? are you okay? what can i do to help because i know that…” 

sukuna leans back, offering you a halfhearted smile, before reaching for the closest drawer and pulling a glass box of bandages and alcohol wipes out. 

“let me clean it.” 

you frown before holding your hand out for him, watching as he quietly opens the packet, and gently cleans the area, before wrapping it in a white bandage. and when he touches the inner portion of your wrist, he looks up at you before placing the back of his hand against your forehead. 

“you’re running hot.” he states. 

“it’s warm in here.” you respond. 

“it’s not. you’re getting a cold.” 

yuuji’s comment from earlier makes sense now. you sigh, noting the soreness in your throat feeling almost swollen now, as you shake your head at him. 

“really. what can i do to help? i know this is a lot and…” you mumble. 

you’re unable to place the expression on sukuna’s face. it’s almost like he cringes. 

“i’m right here.” 

“can you stay with yuuji?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“what?” 

that’s not what you had in mind. 

“we have to do the funeral sooner than later. saturday is our best bet with everyone having work off so i have to pull shit together, really fast. and i can do it, but…but not while dealing with both of them. can you stay with him? please?” 

the question dies on your tounge. what about you? 

“yeah, of course i can, but –” 

sukuna nods, before placing a bottle of nyquil in your uninjured hand. 

“take this twice a day.” he responds, squeezing your shoulder once as he retreats back out to the main room. 

--

you don’t see sukuna for two days. or well, you do, but he’s always preoccupied. not really there. on the phone with the funeral planner, comforting his mom, or dealing with the hospital bills and belongings that were left behind. 

he declines your offer to sleep with him, because he sleeps on the floor in his moms room. he doesn’t eat the breakfast you because he has to go pick out the flowers – and doesn’t make any jokes about how he’d save himself from the food poisoning before eating your food. 

it’s just as well you suppose, because you really do get a fever, and staying with yuuji takes up enough of your time. 

unlike the former – a solid fortress of almost nothing – yuuji swings between two moods, either being awfully quiet and insatiably angry. 

you’re not sure which one is better. the lack of babbling from yuuji is haunting in every situation – but it’s so hard to discern what it is that he’s feeling that sometimes all you can do is crawl into his bed with him and stare at the ceiling together. 

you were half convinced that it did nothing until the second day, when yuuji offered you a thank you for the silence before trotting off to shower. 

the anger is a little bit easier to handle. only because whatever it is that he is feeling comes pouring out of his mouth so freely that you’re at least able to pinpoint what it is that makes him mad. 

that he’s dead. that he died without changing. that he won’t ever change and that in the grand scheme of things, yuuji’s history will always be murked by a shitty, homophobic asshole. 

“he’s such a fucking prick.” yuuji mutters, angrily slamming the door of his closet, as you readjust on his bed. 

was. he was such a prick. 

“and why the fuck is my mom crying so much? god knows how many bottles of wine she’s fucking drank trying to temper the fucking rage he filled her with. she should be happy that she doesn’t have to deal with him anymore.” 

yuuji looks over at you, quickly handing you the tissue that you were reaching for, before returning to his rant. 

“like grow a fucking spine. she’s making sukuna do everything. he’s only fucking twenty-five, for fucks sake. all i’ve watched her do is fucking ball her eyes out and lie down on that god damn couch while he plans the entire funeral and spends lal day calling god knows who.” 

yuuji’s nervous pacing makes the jacket of his suit fall off of the hanger, his irritation clearly getting worse, as you lift your hands, gesturing for him to take a seat as you reach for it. you lift it off the floor, sling it back onto the hanger and make a mental note to steam the crease before the funeral tomorrow, before turning back to him and taking a seat at his side. 

you lean your head on his shoulder, as he brings his hand up to your hair, tangling through the knots. 

“i wish megumi could be here.” he mumbles, voice quiet. 

“me too. i…sammy and i actually talked to your mom about it and..” you start. 

“i know. sukuna told me.” 

yuujji pauses, running his fingers over the pink skin on your palm, before sighing.

“it’s nice but, he’d probably roll over in his grave if megumi came.” yuuji states. 

“he’d probably get out of his casket just to yell at you one more time.” you mutter. 

yuuji laughs, the sound making you smile. 

“and then he’d see you sitting in between me and sukuna and slut shame you one last time for good measure.” he adds. 

“and then probably have a second heart attack when he sees sammy sitting there with mai.” 

the two of you stare at each other blankly before bursting out into laughter, albeit a little bit too uncontrollably, as you reach to shut the door to stop everyone else from hearing. 

“oh my god. i fucking forgot about that. he’d probably have an aneurysm if he found out sammy was bi.” 

“he would fully go into septic shock. he’d probably something strangely homoerotic and spend twenty minutes trying to convince her that everyone was a little gay.” 

“holy shit! i totally forgot he said that. and then he’d somehow blame me for it. like i made her gay somehow by rubbing it off on her.” 

you snort. 

“and naturally, he’d start yelling at our moms too. saying that they let us all be a little too wild when we were kids and that’s why we’re all ungrateful..” you add. 

“i believe his preferred term of endearment was ungrateful little assholes. and don’t kid yourself, according to him, the root of all evil can –  and always will be – traced back to me. ” 

the two of you turn your heads to the doorway, to where sukuna’s standing. you jolt up at the sight of him, his eyes red and tired, as you look up at him, giving him a smile. 

“hi sukuna. how are –” 

sukuna sticks the back of his hand against your forehead, clearly bothered by how warm you’re still running, before dropping his hand. his fingertips trail down your skin, the length of your elbow to your fingers, before he presses the bottle into your hand. 

“antibiotic for five days. if you still feel bad, then an extra two days.” he states, holding the water out in front of you. 

it’s the same as the time yuuji punched you. he’s uncharacteristically inexpressive, but still attentive. 

“when did you have time to go?” 

“i had to get his clothes from the hospital. and his phone and the car keys, they were all in his pocket.” 

“thank you. do need anything from me?” 

“still have nyquill?” 

he avoids the conversation, like he always does, in the rare seconds you’re allowed to speak to him.. you pretend it doesn’t sting. 

“yes.” 

sukuna leans forward, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear, before turning to yuuji. 

“day after tomorrow, up at six both of you. the funeral starts at seven and we’ll be back here after for the condolences.” 

“got it.” yuuji responds and you nod. 

sukuna disappears as fast as he showed up. 

and while you felt like you were isolated in the feeling – that he was slipping away, on another planet from you when he was only two doors down – you and yuuji talk about it the night before the funeral. 

“does it bother you?” yuuji asks. 

you can’t sleep the night before and neither can he – the two of you cramped up in his tiny bed and staring at the tiny glow in the dark stars you pressed to the ceiling years prior. they’re peeling off, half of them already having fell into the crevices between the bed in the wall years ago. 

“your dad?” you murmur. 

“no. sukuna.” 

“what do you mean?” 

“does it bother you that he won’t let you help him?” yuuji asks. 

you sigh, mulling over the thought in your head. of course it bothers you. you felt like you were failing the most important test. 

“i’m not saying that in a shit talking type of way. i just meant…as an observation. as a friend.” yuuji adds. 

you smile. 

“i know. i guess it does. i just feel like we made really good progress and that…that i’d at least tumbled down most of his walls. but every time i see him, it kind of feels like they’re back up. maybe even worse than before.” 

“what do you mean?” 

“he was always a little reserved but it didn’t take much to get him to open up. he’d always give in when i asked. but he just kind of brushes me off now. i’m not mad about it, because i understand, but i wish i could just do more.” you respond. 

yuuji readjusts, leaning over on his side, to look at you. and you mimic his actions till the two of you are facing each other, cheeks pressed into the pillows as you try to make out the features of his face. 

“don’t take it personally.” yuuji responds. 

you sigh. 

“really. in my experience, he…he’s never been able to let go until things are fully settled.” 

“that’s what scares me. your dad isn’t going to stop being dead.” you whisper. 

yuuji nods. 

“he won’t leave you.” 

“i know that. i just need him to come back to me.” you respond. 

yuuji readjusts under the sheets. there’s a quiet beat before he talks again. 

“will you stand with us at the condolences tomorrow? i think he’d like it if you were nearby. and god knows i need someone to stand there with me.” 

“of course, i will.” 

--

almost every person you’ve ever known seems to cycle through their house the next day. the funeral was crowded and you luckily for you, you were stuck for the most part, with sammy on one side and yuuji on the other, so you were able to avoid it. 

but the house was different. in a swimming sea of black, you and yuuji have awkward sets of interactions every few minutes. your third grade teacher, the hostess who kicked the two of you out of the sushi restaurant once, and the weird guy who gets drunk every thursday at the district. 

this town was way too small.  

yuuji sees nobara at the door, giving you a go ahead to go find where sukuna was lingering, as you start making your way through the halls. and it takes a few minutes, but you find him in the kitchen, tucking the envelopes and letters into the drawer as he reaches for his tie and loosens the knot. 

“hi.” 

you watch as he immediately stiffens, sharply turning his head to the left, before releasing. 

“oh. hey. i thought you were someone else.” 

“nope! just little old me.” you respond. 

sukuna pauses, slowly closing the drawer, before turning to you and cupping the side of your face. you welcome the touch – your chest panging at how long it’s been since you’ve even seen him, let alone touched him – before pressing a kiss to his palm. 

“do you feel better?” he asks 

“yeah. thank you.” 

he gives you a halfhearted smile, before dropping his hands down your back and securing his hand around your waist. you lean into his touch, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, and taking in the scent of his cologne. 

“i have to go back out.” he mumbles. 

“i know.” you respond. 

he looks down at you, giving you a smile, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. you give him a smile, before he leans down and squints his eyes at you. 

“been far too long since i’ve kissed you, hasn’t it?” 

“what?” 

“you’re blushing. and i just kissed your forehead.” 

you laugh, lightly trying to shove him away. but he’s too fast, hands on your waist before he leans forward, fully smiling this time and pulling you closer. it’s the first one you’ve seen in days. it makes your heart ache. 

“it’s normal to blush when your boyfriend kisses you.” you defend. 

he shakes his head, playfully poking at the side of your cheek before dropping his hand. 

“you’re always greedy. so greedy that you got so used to it. i usually have to rile you up in five different ways before i see that pretty flush creep down your neck.” 

“you’re a pervert. read the room.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“i am reading the room. you and i are the only ones in it.” he deadpans. 

“every person we know is outside.” you whisper. 

“come on. one kiss and i’ll go back.” he whispers back. 

“sukuna.” 

“please.” 

you roll your eyes before placing both of your hands on his cheeks and leaning forward. and as many comments as you made about reading the room and trying to deny it, you’re way too excited to lean forward – nearly smacking your nose into his – as you lock your lips with his. 

but it’s nothing like you expected. 

because while he was joking a few minutes prior, the kiss is so soft, dripping with longing that it takes you by surprise. it reminded you of the quiet moments – when he’d trace the freckles on your cheek or press kisses to your knuckles before bed – so overwhelming, so intimate that you felt like he had creeped up inside of you. 

when you flicker your eyes open, his eyes are filled with tears. 

“i’m sorry for avoiding you.” he whispers. 

“that’s okay, you…” 

“i knew this would happen if i was around you for too long.” he responds. 

you pause, taken aback by his words. 

“what?” 

“i wouldn’t be able to keep it together.” he responds, voice cracking as the tears start spilling down his cheeks.

you frown, reaching forward to wipe the wetness away.

“you don’t have to keep it together.” you whisper. 

“we both know i do.” he responds, his gaze wavering to the floor. 

you feel your heart drop, at the mere premise, before pressing yourself closer to him, feeling him sag nearly his entire weight onto you. he presses a kiss on your shoulder that makes you shiver. 

“can we please talk when we go home? just a few more days before…” 

“yeah. just you and me, okay?” 

he nods, lifting your hands against his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.

"don't be hurt if I avoid you."

"you could never hurt me. i know whatever you do, there's a reason for it."

sukuna groans, before leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"you're perfect, you know that?"

you give him a teasing grin, before shrugging.

"i can't help it." you joke.

he smiles, before leaning forward to press another kiss to your lips. 

“make me a promise.” he whispers, a slight strain in his voice. 

“okay.” 

he swallows hard.

“you can’t die.” 

you lean back, pressing your hand into the softness of his hair, before looking at his brown eyes, so full and expectant as they wait for an answer. 

“of course not.” 

“you’d take me right with you if you did. you can’t.” he begs. 

you give him a smile. 

“i won’t. i promise, ryomen.” you respond, reaching forward to cross on his heart.

he gives you a shaky sigh, before nodding and pressing one last kiss to your cheek before exiting back out. 

and you thank your lucky stars. he came back. 

--

you smack nobara in the back of the head when you make your way back to her and yuuji. because not only are yuuji and nobara nursing two glasses of red wine, but they’re also emptying her trusty hot pink flash into the glass when people aren’t looking. 

“are you insane?” you whisper. 

“do you want a sip?” yuuji asks. 

you immediately take the glass from his hand, earning you laughs from the two of them, as the three of you lean against the wall, watching everyone mill around the room. as irritating as the guy was, mr. itadori was really only all types of heinous and horrible with those closest to them. 

to the community, it was a grave loss. and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room – except from the three people it was probably expected from the most. 

you could hear the whispers. they were so strong. you fight the urge to laugh in their faces. it was the understatement of the century. 

sammy joins you on the wall after an hour of mingling, an awkward jostle between her and nobara, before the two of them were sharing their glasses and muttering under their breaths about how insane maki and mai were. 

“funerals are weird.” yuuji mumbles, leaning his head against yours.

“how so?” 

“these two idiots were fighting at your birthday like a week ago. and no one’s even batting an eye that mr. johnson is sitting with his mistress while his wife gets drunk in the corner.” 

“that’s not his mistress. she was blonde.” 

“bold of you to assume there was only one.” 

you shiver in disgust, earning you a laugh from yuuji, as you finish off the last of his glass. except that’s right when sukuna walks up to you, eyes panicked as he takes the glass from your hand and sets it on the table. 

“hey baby.” he whispers. 

“hi sukuna. want some of our conc –” 

“whatever happens, i’m right here, okay?” he says, the tone in his voice urgent. 

you laugh, looking over to give yuuji a weird look, only to find that he’s staring past sukuna’s shoulder, swallowing hard. 

“huh? i don’t follow.” 

sukuna pinches his eyes shut, almost like he’s pained, before moving to your side, when you finally see it. he squeezes your hand so hard you think he might have broken it. 

you suppose it’s ironic. 

yuuji and sukuna’s shitty dad is dead. and your deadbeat one is standing four feet away from you, with two little girls at his side.

--

next part linked here

an: yolo.

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[enemiestolovershoe]

I'd like to read an enemies to lovers (or fuckers😀) story with Folio. I'd try to write one by myself but got stucked. I have no ideas and it got so boring at a certain point😕

Just Pretend

Nick Folio x enemy!ruffilo!reader

Summary: Y/N and Nick Folio, longtime enemies, share an unexpected night that blurs the lines between hatred and passion, forcing them to confront their true feelings.

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f receiving), enemies to fuckers to lovers, unprotected p in v, swearing, alcohol and weed use, let me know if i missed something

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

The roar of the crowd outside the venue was deafening, but inside the tour bus, it was a cozy kind of chaos. You had been tagging along on your brother Ruffilo's tours for years, but this time, things were different. This time, you weren’t just his sibling hanging out backstage—you were officially part of the crew as their photographer.

The guys in the band had welcomed you with open arms, treating you like family. Noah was a laid-back source of constant laughter; Jolly had an almost brotherly protectiveness about him, and Nicholas made sure you were always in the loop, a constant conspirator in his antics.

All except Nick Folio.

From the very first moment you were introduced, he had been… cold. Polite, sure, but with a distinct undercurrent of disdain. He didn’t even try to hide it. And so, like clockwork, every exchange with him ended in tension or a biting remark.

“Hey, Folio, hold still a second,” you said, camera poised in hand as you stood backstage before the band’s soundcheck. You were collecting candids for their social media feed, and Folio—drumming sticks in hand, absently tapping out a beat on his thigh—was an ideal subject.

He glanced at you, clearly unimpressed. “Is this absolutely necessary right now?”

You lowered the camera slightly and raised an eyebrow. “It’s kind of my job, so yeah.”

“Right. Well, maybe take pictures of someone who wants their picture taken.” He gestured toward Noah, who was sprawled on a couch nearby, unbothered.

“Maybe try being a little less—”

“Less what?” he shot back, cutting you off, his tone sharper than your camera lens.

“You know what? Never mind.” You huffed and pivoted on your heel, snapping a quick candid of Noah instead.

“Wow,” Noah said from the couch, grinning up at you. “Tension so thick I could cut it with a knife. Should I be worried about you two killing each other?”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead,” you quipped, casting a pointed glance at Folio, who muttered something under his breath and walked away.

Later that evening, after the show, the bus hummed with post-gig energy. Jolly and Nicholas were sitting at the small dining booth, sorting through setlists and chatting about tomorrow’s itinerary. You had your laptop open, editing the photos from the night, when Noah flopped down on the couch beside you.

“So,” he began, voice dripping with curiosity, “what’s the deal with you and Folio?”

“There is no deal,” you said, focusing on your screen.

“Come on,” Noah pressed. “You two are either mortal enemies or secretly in love.”

You shot him a look. “Definitely not the second one.”

Noah grinned, undeterred. “I don’t know. Enemies to lovers is, like, a classic trope. You’re already halfway there.”

“Not happening,” you replied firmly.

From across the room, Folio chimed in. “Trust me, Noah. She’s the last person I’d go for.”

You felt your face heat up but refused to look at him. “Right back at you.”

Nicholas glanced up from the table, amused. “Why do you two hate each other so much, anyway?”

“It’s not hate,” you said quickly. “It’s just… strong mutual disinterest.”

“Strong mutual annoyance,” Folio corrected.

“Strong mutual agreement that we’ll never get along,” you added.

Jolly shook his head, smiling faintly. “You two should probably figure it out. We’ve got, what, six more months on the road together?”

“Oh, joy,” Folio deadpanned, grabbing a water bottle and retreating to his bunk.

You exhaled and turned back to your screen, refusing to let him ruin your mood. But as you scrolled through the photos, you paused on one of him mid-performance. The way his focus bled into every movement, the passion in his expression—it was captivating, even if he wasn’t your favorite person.

Noah leaned over, peering at the screen. “You’re staring at Folio’s photo.”

“Shut up, Noah.”

“I’m just saying,” he teased, his grin widening.

You shoved him lightly, but your thoughts lingered on the image a little longer than you’d like to admit.

You were just settling into your bunk, sighing at the blessed comfort of your pillow, when the curtain whipped open without warning.

“Not happening,” Nicholas announced, grinning down at you like an older sibling on a mission to ruin your peace.

You groaned, rolling over to glare at him. “What now?”

Noah appeared beside him, holding up a bottle of cheap whiskey like it was a trophy. “Drinking time!”

“You’re kidding me,” you muttered. “I just finished hours of editing, and now you want me to drink… this?” You pointed accusingly at the bottle.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Nicholas said, grabbing your arm and pulling you upright. “It’s family time.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to sleep later,” Noah added with a grin. “Another Fourteen hours of driving. You’ll get your beauty rest.”

Grumbling under your breath, you slid out of the bunk and followed them to the back lounge. The door swung open, and the familiar chaos of the bus’s “living room” hit you: Jolly and Matt were already there, and of course, Folio was sprawled on the couch with his ever-present phone.

His eyes flicked up as you walked in, and his expression soured instantly. “Oh, great. Just who I was hoping to see.”

“Likewise,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you dropped onto the couch between Noah and your brother Ruffilo.

Folio’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before he muttered, “Perfect,” and went back to scrolling on his phone.

Jolly, seated at the small counter with another whiskey bottle and a lineup of mismatched cups, started pouring. “Let’s get this going,” he said, handing the first cup to Ruffilo and then making his way around the group.

You took your cup hesitantly, eyeing the dark liquid with skepticism. “Why does it always have to be whiskey?” you asked, grimacing after your first sip. “Can’t we just smoke a joint?”

“Or,” Folio said, cutting in with a raised eyebrow, “it could be both.” He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out two pre-rolled joints, holding them up like an offering.

The room broke into laughter, except for Ruffilo, who narrowed his eyes at you. “Wait a second. Since when do you smoke sis?”

You froze for a split second before shrugging casually. “Oops, I guess?”

“Oops?” Ruffilo repeated, his tone heavy with older-brother judgment. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“It’s not a big deal,” you replied, unfazed. “You’ve done worse.”

Noah snickered from your left. “She’s got you there, Ruff.”

“She does not—” Ruffilo started, but Jolly cut him off with a raised cup.

“Let it go, man,” Jolly said. “We’re here to relax, not get into a family drama.”

Ruffilo muttered something under his breath but didn’t press the issue.

You laughed, taking another sip of whiskey. 

Matt, perched in the corner with his own drink, gestured toward Noah. “You’re awfully quiet for the guy who brought the whiskey.”

“I’m conserving my energy,” Noah replied with a smirk. “You’ll see.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Nicholas regaled the group with a story about their worst soundcheck in recent memory, complete with dramatic impressions of the tech crew. Matt jumped in with corrections, adding just enough dry wit to keep everyone laughing.

But as much as you tried to focus on the banter, your attention kept drifting to Folio. Every sarcastic comment he made, every smug look, grated on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. At one point, he interrupted Noah mid-story, correcting him about a setlist detail, earning a round of groans.

“Folio,” you said, leaning back against the couch, “do you ever get tired of being that guy?”

“Do you ever get tired of being this annoying?” he shot back without missing a beat.

“You’re both insufferable,” Ruffilo muttered, downing the rest of his whiskey.

Nicholas chuckled, nudging you. “You sure you two don’t secretly love each other?”

“Absolutely not,” you said quickly.

“Never,” Folio added at the same time, his tone as sharp as yours.

The group burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You knew the teasing wouldn’t stop anytime soon—not with this crowd.

The hours flew by in a haze of laughter, music, and the warmth of shared intoxication. The six of you were a mess of empty cups, lingering smoke, and bad jokes, none of which made sense anymore but were hilarious in the moment. Matt was the first to call it a night, mumbling something about needing to be “semi-functional” in the morning. Jolly and Ruffilo followed soon after, Ruffilo slapping Noah on the back in a half-drunken show of affection before disappearing toward his bunk.

That left you, Noah, and Folio.

“Can I go to bed without worrying that you two are going to kill each other?” Noah yawned, rubbing his eyes as he stretched lazily.

You smiled at him, your earlier annoyance fading. “Yeah, go to bed, Noah. We’ll be fine.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but decided to take your word for it. “All right… but if I wake up to a murder scene, I’m blaming both of you.”

“Goodnight, Noah,” you said with a chuckle, waving him off.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled, disappearing through the door.

And then there were two.

The air grew heavier as silence settled over the room, broken only by the faint hum of the bus engine and the occasional tap of your thumb against your phone screen. You’d pulled out a game to distract yourself, but the tension between you and Folio was almost palpable.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch, leaning back lazily with one arm draped over the backrest, watching you like he was waiting for something.

After a few minutes, you gave up pretending the game was holding your attention. You glanced at him, hesitating before speaking. “Do you… uh… have another joint, maybe?”

Folio raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the question. “You sure?”

“Yeah, why not?” you replied, your patience already wearing thin.

He smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Because I’ve never seen you smoke before, Y/N. And I don’t want to be the oneresponsible when you pass out or freak out.”

Your jaw tightened at his tone, his words igniting the familiar irritation that always seemed to surface when he spoke to you. “Okay, Folio, listen. It’s definitely not my first time smoking weed. There are a lot of things about me you don’t know. And I am not a lightweight.” You crossed your arms, holding his gaze with a defiant glare. “So, I’ll ask again: do you have another joint or not?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your response. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just studied you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. Finally, he reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out another pre-rolled joint.

“Uh… yeah, sure,” he said, handing it to you.

You took it with a smirk, your first one of the night. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he muttered, leaning back again. He pulled out his own joint, lighting it with practiced ease before taking a slow drag.

You lit yours as well, the familiar scent filling the air as you inhaled deeply. For a while, neither of you spoke. The smoke curled lazily around you both, creating a strange sort of intimacy in the otherwise empty lounge.

Folio broke the silence first. “You don’t seem like the type,” he said, his tone casual but curious.

You exhaled a puff of smoke, raising an eyebrow. “The type to what?”

“Smoke,” he said simply, gesturing toward the joint in your hand. “Or… I don’t know. Just let loose like this.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “See, that’s the problem with you, Folio. You think you’ve got me all figured out, but you don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, really?” he replied, his smirk returning. “Like what?”

“Like…” You paused, taking another drag as you thought. “Like the fact that I’ve been smoking since college. Or that Iused to be in a band before I got into photography.”

Folio’s eyebrows shot up at that. “You were in a band?”

“Yeah,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Guitar and vocals. We weren’t great, but it was fun.”

“Why’d you quit?” he asked, his tone a little softer now.

You shrugged, looking down at your joint. “Didn’t love it enough to make it my whole life, I guess. Photography felt… right. Like it was what I was supposed to do.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Makes sense.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the lack of sarcasm in his voice. For once, he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the earlier tension starting to fade. And then, emboldened by the alcohol and weed coursing through your system, you found yourself asking the question that had been nagging at you for months.

“Why do you hate me so much, Folio?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for far too long.

Folio froze, his joint halfway to his lips. For the first time that night, he looked completely caught off guard.

“I don’t—” he began, but you cut him off immediately.

“Don’t start with that bullshit,” you snapped, your voice firmer than you expected.

“Let me speak, please,” he said quickly, raising a hand as if to calm you down. There was a note of seriousness in his tone that caught you off guard. “I don’t hate you, Y/N. You have to believe me.”

You blinked, your irritation giving way to confusion. “Then why are you always so mean to me? Why do you act like you can’t stand to be in the same room as me?”

Folio sighed, dragging a hand down his face before leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The usual smugness in his expression was completely gone, replaced by something far more vulnerable.

“Do you remember that house party seven years ago? The one where your brother introduced us?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded slowly, your mind flashing back to the memory. “Yeah… I remember.”

“Well,” he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “Nicholas caught me staring at you.”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure where this was going. “Okay…?”

“I was mesmerized by you, Y/N,” Folio admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. But Nicholas pulled me aside and made it very clear that you were strictly off-limits.”

Your mouth parted slightly, the pieces beginning to fall into place.

“So, what? You just decided to hate me because my brother told you to back off?” you asked, your tone more incredulous than angry.

“No,” Folio said, shaking his head. “I didn’t decide to hate you. I tried to. I thought if I could convince myself you were annoying, or difficult, or—” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “If I could convince myself you were someone I didn’t want to be around, then maybe I could get those feelings out of my head.”

He leaned back, exhaling deeply as he met your gaze. “It didn’t work. But it made things easier… or at least it felt like it did at the time.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling from his confession. “So, this whole time… all the bickering, the snarky comments… that was just you trying to push me away?”

Folio nodded, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Pretty much.” He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding your eyes. “The truth is, I’ve never hated you, Y/N. I never could.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, you were completely speechless. You had spent so much time believing that he genuinely couldn’t stand you, and now… this.

Folio shifted nervously under your silence, his earlier confidence clearly shaken. “Look, I know I’ve been a complete asshole to you, and you probably don’t want to hear any of this, but—”

Before he could finish, you leaned forward, your heart pounding in your chest, and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was sudden, instinctive, and completely out of character for you. But as soon as it happened, it felt right—like something you’d been holding back for far too long.

For a moment, Folio didn’t move, clearly caught off guard. But then, almost hesitantly, he kissed you back.

Folio’s hands found your waist as he quickly pulled you onto his lap, not breaking the kiss. The motion made you gasp against his lips, but he didn’t let up, deepening the kiss instead. His grip was firm, almost like he was afraid you’d slip away, and the heat between your bodies was impossible to ignore.

After a few moments, Folio pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath. His eyes searched yours, dark and filled with something you couldn’t quite place, but it made your stomach twist in anticipation.

"I’m sick of pretending, Y/N," he murmured, his voice raw and quiet, as if it hurt to say it out loud.

Your chest tightened at his words, a mix of emotions flooding you. But instead of overthinking it, you let your instincts take over. "Then don’t," you whispered, your voice steady despite the butterflies wreaking havoc inside you.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Folio leaned in again, capturing your lips in another heated kiss. This one was more desperate, more certain, and you found yourself melting into him.

His hands roamed your back, sliding under your sweatshirt, and his fingers brushed your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your hips moved of their own accord, rocking slightly against him. The friction was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips when you felt how hard he already was beneath you.

"Fuck, Y/N," Folio groaned against your mouth, his hands tightening on your waist as you kept moving. His lips trailed down to your jaw, then your neck, where he bit down gently, eliciting another gasp from you.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him, the heat between your legs growing unbearable. "I need you, Nicky," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for him to hear.

He pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours, dark and filled with desire. "Fuck," he rasped, his lips curling into a smirk. "I thought you’d never say it."

Your cheeks flushed, but you smirked right back, emboldened by his reaction. Without breaking eye contact, you grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt and pulled it over your head in one swift motion, leaving your upper body bare to him.

Folio’s eyes widened for a moment before they darkened further, his gaze drinking you in. "No bra?" he said, his tone teasing but laced with lust. "Naughty girl."

You shrugged, your smirk not faltering. "Remember, I was dragged out of bed."

His grin widened as he leaned forward, his lips brushing over your collarbone. "Lucky me," he murmured before his hands found your waist again, pulling you flush against him.

Not wanting to be the only one undressed, you tugged at the hem of his hoodie. "Your turn," you whispered, your fingers curling under the fabric.

He chuckled softly but obliged, pulling the hoodie off and tossing it aside. Your breath hitched as you took him in, his toned chest and arms on full display.

"Like what you see?" he teased, his grin cocky as he caught you staring.

"Maybe," you replied, feigning indifference, though the heat in your gaze betrayed you.

"Uh-huh, sure," he teased back, pulling you closer until your bare chest pressed against his.

Your lips met again, the kiss growing more intense, and you couldn’t stop your hands from exploring his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. His hands mirrored yours, roaming your back and hips, pulling you even closer as the tension built between you.

After a few minutes, your hands wandered lower, trailing down his sides to the waistband of his sweatpants. You hesitated for only a moment before undoing the drawstring and slipping your hand inside.

The low groan Folio let out when your hand brushed against him sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but smirk against his lips.

"Fuck, Y/N," he breathed, his head tilting back slightly as you started palming him through his sweatpants. His grip on your waist tightened, and his breathing grew heavier, matching yours.

Folio groaned, his head tilting back as your hand worked him. "Okay, okay, you need to stop," he panted, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly to still your movements. "Or else I’m gonna bust already," he added with a breathless laugh, his cheeks flushed.

You smirked, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to his jaw. "Isn’t that the point?" you quipped, your tone light but sultry.

He gave you a pointed look, his lips quirking into a crooked smile. "Yeah, well, I’d rather make you feel good first. Thatokay with you?"

The low rasp in his voice sent shivers down your spine, and you nodded quickly. "Yes, please," you whispered, your voice soft but laced with need.

"Good girl," he murmured, his smile turning into a smug smirk as he gently nudged you backward.

You found yourself lying back on the narrow couch in the tour bus, the cool leather a sharp contrast to the heat building between your bodies. Folio knelt between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants and panties. With one smooth motion, he tugged them down and discarded them somewhere on the floor.

Everything about his movements was quick and deliberate, leaving you a little breathless. He placed his hands on your thighs, parting your legs with a firm yet gentle motion. The hunger in his gaze made you swallow hard, heat flooding your cheeks.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice softening. The concern in his tone was genuine, cutting through the tension just enough to make your chest tighten in a different way.

"Yeah," you said, nodding.

He raised an eyebrow, his hands giving your thighs a reassuring squeeze. "I need to hear you say it, baby," he urged gently.

Your lips parted as you took a steadying breath. "Yes, Nicky. I’m sure," you replied, your voice steady this time.

His lips quirked into a soft smile at your words. "That’s my girl," he murmured, and before you could respond, he dipped his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh before moving to exactly where you needed him most.

The first touch of his tongue drew a sharp gasp from you, your hips jerking slightly in surprise. "Fuck," you breathed, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair.

Folio chuckled against you, the vibrations making you whimper. "God, you’re so wet for me," he groaned, his voice muffled but filled with awe.

"Mhm," you managed, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Just for you."

"Good," he murmured before diving back in, his mouth working against you with a fervor that left you dizzy.

Every flick of his tongue and every graze of his lips had you unraveling faster than you thought possible. Your moans filled the small space, mingling with his groans as he seemed entirely consumed by the task of driving you wild.

Your legs trembled as the pressure built to an almost unbearable peak, and with one final flick of his tongue, you came undone with a cry, your back arching off the couch.

Folio didn’t stop right away, easing you through your high until you were a quivering, breathless mess beneath him. He pulled back, his lips glistening, and gave you a cocky grin.

"That was fast," he teased, leaning back on his heels and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You let out a breathless laugh, covering your face with one hand as you tried to catch your breath. "I know. I surprised myself," you admitted, still trembling slightly.

His grin widened, and he reached out to tug your hand away from your face, pinning it gently against the couch. "Don’t hide from me," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You smiled up at him, your chest still heaving. "Come here, drummer boy," you said, your tone teasing but full of want. "And fuck me already."

His cheeks flushed, the pink spreading across his nose, but he smirked anyway. "You don’t have to tell me twice," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

He stood up, his movements fluid as he quickly discarded his pants and boxers, letting them fall to the floor. You couldn’t help but stare, your lips parting slightly at the sight of him.

"Like what you see?" he teased, catching your expression as he climbed back onto the couch, hovering over you.

"Maybe," you replied, your voice soft but teasing.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you deeply. His lips moved against yours with a mix of urgency and tenderness, and you melted into him, your hands roaming the expanse of his bare back.

Folio hovered over you, his body pressing against yours as he lined himself up at your entrance. His eyes searched yours one last time, his voice low and rough. "You ready, baby?"

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I’ve never been more ready," you whispered.

With a slow, steady motion, he pushed himself into you, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. Your nails dug into his shoulders as the stretch took you by surprise, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped.

"God, Folio," you breathed, your voice trembling. "You’re so big."

He froze for a moment, his forehead pressing against yours. "You need a minute, baby?" he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. "No, keep going," you murmured, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. "I need you."

His gaze darkened at your words, and he leaned down to kiss you deeply as he began to move, starting with slow, deliberate thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, every inch of him filling you in a way that left you breathless.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice strained. "So tight, baby. Fuck."

You whimpered in response, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even closer. "Don’t stop," you gasped, your voice breaking. "Right there, Nicky. Yes, yes, right there."

His pace began to pick up, his movements growing more confident as your moans spurred him on. "Good girl," he murmured against your ear, his voice dripping with praise. "Taking me so well. So wet for me."

Your body responded to every word, every thrust, and soon you were clawing at his back, your moans growing louder with each passing second. "Faster," you begged, your voice high and desperate. "Please, Nicky, faster."

"Anything for you," he groaned, gripping your hips as he began to move with an almost punishing pace. The sound of skin against skin filled the small space, mingling with the symphony of your moans and his deep, guttural groans.

"Fuck, baby," he rasped, his lips brushing against your neck as he buried himself deeper. "You feel so fucking good."

"Harder," you moaned, your head tilting back as your body arched into his. "Please, Nicky, fuck me harder."

He didn’t hesitate, his hips snapping against yours with a force that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. "God, you’re perfect," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. "So fucking perfect."

You felt the tension building again, your body teetering on the edge. "I’m close," you gasped, your nails raking down his back. "Don’t stop, don’t stop."

"I’ve got you, baby," he groaned, his voice rough as he kept his relentless pace.

With one final thrust, the coil inside you snapped, and you cried out, your body shaking as your orgasm washed over you. Folio groaned loudly, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

"Fuck," he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure. With a few more thrusts, he pulled out, spilling himself onto your belly. His head fell to your shoulder as he caught his breath, his body trembling slightly against yours.

You both lay there for a moment, panting and trying to come down from the high. Finally, Folio pushed himself up, his eyes meeting yours with a soft, almost shy smile. "You okay?" he asked, his voice still a little breathless.

"Yeah," you replied, your own smile tugging at your lips. "That was…"

"Incredible?" he finished for you, his grin turning playful as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

"Exactly," you agreed, laughing softly as he stood up.

He grabbed a box of tissues from the corner of the bus’s living room and cleaned you up with gentle care, his fingers brushing against your skin.

As he tossed the tissues into a nearby trash can, you smirked up at him. "If you hadn’t pretended to hate me all these years, we could’ve done that seven years ago," you teased, your tone light but tinged with a hint of seriousness.

Folio’s expression softened, and he climbed back onto the couch, pulling you into his arms. "I know," he murmured, his voice quiet. "I’m sorry, baby."

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment as if trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.

After a moment of catching your breath, you and Folio slowly began to gather yourselves. He handed you your underwear with a small, sheepish grin, and you both slid them back on in a comfortable silence. The air between you had shifted—it was no longer filled with tension, but something warmer, more intimate.

You laid back down on the couch, and Folio immediately joined you, pulling you into his arms. His hand rested on your hip as he held you close, the rise and fall of his chest soothing as you nestled against him.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The quiet hum of the tour bus and the faint sounds from outside filled the space. It wasn’t awkward, though—it was comfortable, peaceful even.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice soft and a little uncertain. "What does this make us, Nick?"

He stilled for a moment, and you could feel the way his chest rose and fell under your cheek as he took a deep breath. "I don’t know," he admitted, his voice gentle but firm. "But I do know one thing—I’m done pretending, baby. I’m done acting like I don’t want this. Like I don’t want you."

Your heart fluttered at his words, but there was still a sliver of hesitation in your chest. You tilted your head to look up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. "How does boyfriend and girlfriend sound?" you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a split second, your heart raced, fear creeping in as you braced yourself for his answer. But then, Folio’s lips curled into that signature smirk of his, and the look in his eyes softened in a way that made your chest ache.

"I’d love that, baby," he said simply, his voice steady and sincere.

A wave of relief washed over you, and a smile spread across your lips as your fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt. "Good," you murmured, your voice lighter now, playful even.

Folio leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips—gentle and unhurried, like he was savoring the moment. When he pulled back, his hand reached for a nearby blanket draped over the back of the couch. He tugged it over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders before pulling you even closer.

"Let’s cuddle a bit before we have to get back to our bunks," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. "The guys don’t need to find out about this just yet. And your brother…" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Your brother would kill us both."

You laughed quietly, nuzzling closer to him. "Agreed," you said, your voice warm with amusement.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence again, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your back as you basked in the warmth of each other’s presence.

But what neither of you considered was how the haze of the moment—combined with the earlier hit of weed and the lingering exhaustion—would catch up to you. Slowly but surely, your eyelids grew heavy, and you felt yourself slipping into the pull of sleep.

Folio’s breathing evened out beside you, his arms still securely wrapped around your frame as he dozed off. Neither of you noticed the scattered clothes on the floor or the fact that the blanket barely covered your entwined bodies.

And as the tour bus rumbled quietly down the road, you both drifted off, blissfully unaware of the consequences waiting for you when the boys inevitably discovered the aftermath of your night together.

The next morning, you were startled awake by a loud, familiar voice cutting through the quiet hum of the bus. Still tangled in Folio’s arms, you blinked groggily, your brain struggling to catch up as the realization hit—you’d fallen asleep in the lounge area.

Noah’s voice, brimming with disbelief and amusement, echoed through the small space. "I fucking told you!" he practically shouted, the smirk on his face audible in his tone.

You and Folio both jolted upright, your hearts racing. Folio instinctively pulled the blanket tighter around you as you both turned to see Noah standing a few feet away, his grin widening as he took in the scene before him.

Before either of you could say a word, Noah’s commotion woke another person—the one person you’d hoped wouldn’t notice.

Your brother, Ruffilo, groaned loudly as he climbed out of his bunk, rubbing his eyes and looking thoroughlyunimpressed. "What the hell are you yelling about this early, Noah?" he grumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.

Time seemed to slow as Ruffilo’s footsteps grew louder, each one bringing him closer to the back lounge. Your breath caught in your throat, and you glanced at Folio, whose wide eyes mirrored your own. Even Noah looked momentarily alarmed, his grin faltering as the gravity of the situation hit him.

When Ruffilo finally stepped into the lounge, his gaze landed on you and Folio still tangled together on the couch, the blanket doing little to hide the obvious intimacy of your positioning. His eyes narrowed dangerously, and his jaw clenched as realization dawned.

"Folio," Ruffilo said slowly, his voice low and simmering with anger. "Don’t tell me you fucked my sister last night."

Folio froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he managed a weak, "Uh… I didn’t fuck your sister last night?" His voice wavered with uncertainty, and you resisted the urge to groan at his terrible attempt at lying.

Ruffilo’s gaze snapped to you, and then back to Folio, his face reddening with fury. "I’m going to fucking kill you," he growled, his voice rising with each word. "Both of you!"

Taglist: @courta13

[starkwlkr]

hi babe!! love your dad!Charles ideass!! ABSOLUTELY MY EVERYDAY READ!! anyway if you don’t mind, can you make where ruby is jealous of her little sister/brother because her parents give too much attention to him/her and she thinks they forget her.

why not me? | charles leclerc

am i using a mitski lyric as the title? yes. i also got another request similar except uncle pierre makes an appearance

request: Hi! You should do a baby Leclerc one shot where she tells Pierre she’s going to live w him since they had the baby and she thinks they’ve forgotten her

Mathéo was crying too much, that’s what Ruby thought. She didn’t really understood why he even cried. Y/n always fed him, changed his diaper and even called him sweet names to comfort him. Years ago, Ruby was in Mathéo’s position, but now she was older and she didn’t like being pushed to the side.

Ruby was in her playroom. She was coloring in her Barbie book when she heard Mathéo cry. Charles was away for another race so it was just Y/n with her children in their home. Ruby ignored the crying baby since Y/n was taking care of him and continued coloring in. Once she was done, she put down her crayon and walked into Mathéo’s nursery where she found her mother attempting to calm the baby down. Y/n looked stressed, she probably slept about three hours since Mathéo didn’t want to sleep so he cried all night long.

“Mama, look! You’re not looking! I colored Barbie! I want to show grand-mére, can you take a picture and send it to her?” Ruby showed her work proudly.

“Give me a second, Ruby, your brother needs me right now.” Y/n adjusted the baby in her arms.

Ruby watched as her mother held the baby close to her. She felt jealous, she’ll admit that. They went four years with Ruby as their only child and suddenly Mathéo came. Now she had to share everything, especially the love and attention from her parents, uncles, aunts and most importantly, her grand-mére.

“Can you take a picture now?”

“Ruby, I can’t, I’m taking care of your brother.” Y/n sighed as Mathéo continued crying.

“But you always take care of him!”

Ruby ran out of the room nearly in tears. She decided that her parents didn’t need her, not since the new baby arrived. She ran to the living room and saw her mother’s phone on the kitchen counter. She knew she was still on a phone ban but she picked it up and unlocked it. She clicked on the messages icon and saw pierre’s name. She opened up the messages and typed out one of her own.

Y/n

uncle peair can i c ome live wiht you ?

She hit send and waited for a response. Luckily for her, pierre wasn’t busy.

Pierre

what’s wrong, my little ruby?

Y/n

mama do es not love m e

Pierre

Of course she does.

Y/n

No

I want to live wiht u and ki ka

Ruby didn’t get a response back from Pierre. She immediately thought that Pierre was already on his way to pick her up. What she didn’t know was that Pierre has shown the messages to Charles.

Suddenly Y/n’s phone started ringing with Charles’ contact name appearing on the screen. Ruby took the phone to her mother and then ran back to her room.

“Hey, you okay?” Y/n said when she answered the call. She put the call on speaker since she was about to change Mathéo’s diaper.

“I’m okay. But Pierre just received some messages from Ruby. They came from your phone.” Charles explained so Y/n checked her texts and saw what Ruby had typed to the Frenchman.

“Oh, Ruby.” Y/n sighed. “She was trying to show me her coloring book and Mathéo was crying. I’ll talk to her.”

“Give her kisses for me, I’ll be home soon. Let me know how it goes.” Charles said then Y/n hung up.

After changing Mathéo, Y/n carried him to Ruby’s room where she was all snuggled up with blankets in her bed watching ‘Cars’ on her iPad.

“Ruby, papa told me that you sent uncle pierre some messages. You want to live with uncle pierre and kika?” Y/n entered the room and sat on her daughter’s bed.

“Yes and he’s already on his way.” She said confidently.

“Well uncle pierre lives in Italy and papa and i would miss you so much.” Y/n said.

“No you wouldn’t! You have the baby.” Ruby replied.

“Ruby, papa and i love you and the baby so much. You’re my special little girl and Mathéo is my special little boy. You were the one who made me a mama. You know before you were born, I thought I was never going to be able to have children and then you came. That’s why you’re my special little girl, Ruby Jules.”

“Am I papa’s special girl too?” She asked curiously.

“You’ve always been, baby. He was so excited to meet you. He cried so many times but don’t tell him I told you.” Y/n chuckled when she saw Ruby laugh at the thought of her papa crying.

“So you still love me?”

“Ruby Jules, we never stopped loving you.”

[overrboarrd]

roman reigns x black!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: mentions of alcohol and inebriation a/n: decided to go ahead and run this one back. let me know what y'all think!

—————

Acrylic nails mindlessly stirred the deep amber liquid in front of her. She would’ve opted for something lighter, but the aching in her chest begged to be pacified. Shoulders brushed against her in the confined space. The vibrations from the speakers that traveled from the wooden floor throughout her body was her oxygen; the only thing keeping the monstrous cage around her heart from caving in.

She exhaled deeply before closing her eyes. The burning sedated the dull pain, finally giving her what she longed for. Relief. Though the days would pass and her heart would yearn once again. Inebriation soon overwhelmed her, and whilst her mind was almost gone, her body governed her with ease. Legs carried her outside of the bar and around the rust brick building. Fingers fumbled around a purse for a few seconds before pulling out a slim rectangular electronic, the lit screen anticipating the truth that sat on her heart.

“There are countless things that are wrong with me. I’m flawed and-and fragile. Why would you want a glass case as a fiancé? As your wife?”

The impulsive phrase magnified their romance into a blooming estrangement, condemning her to almost two years of seclusion. Her chestnut irises rapidly moved across the device, searching for the one name that could do more than just temporarily pick up the pieces.

Roman.

Her eyes lingered on his contact photo for a few seconds. She kept everything; pictures, voice messages, brief notes that he’d written on random loose sheets of paper succeeding their most intimate moments. When they first met she didn’t take him as romantic. They had not-so-subtly been surprised with a blind double date after Naomi suggested she join her and Jimmy out skating.

————

She walked into the building fully believing that it was another night out with her favorite couple. She’d roll around for a while; then go head to head with Jimmy in air hockey at the small arcade on the side of the rink while Naomi cheered her on. Jimmy would pout and joke that she loved her more than him. The Rink was their old stomping grounds. She and Naomi would go every weekend during their school years. Beating him was second nature. After their 3 round game, she took a seat at one of the benches near the lockers; switching out her sneakers for crisp white skates. Her fingers separated the lace before grabbing the skate and slipping it on. As she got ready to head back on the floor, she overheard a rich, baritone voice engaging with the underpaid worker at the counter, causing her to look up.

“Um, I don’t think we have a size 15, but I can take a look. Give me a second.” The lanky teenage boy disappeared from the counter while the mildly annoyed-looking man rubbed his beard in frustration. She watched his jaw clench, slightly shaking his head. His large hands barely fit in his pocket as he pulled out his phone. Her eyes scanned his side profile. Handsome was an understatement. She didn’t need to see his full face to know that, yet he must have felt her stare. His eyes immediately locked with hers and she got to see the entirety of his herculean features. A small smile replaced the frown that was there seconds before. His once furrowed brows softened, lips parting as if he took in a deep breath. She held her gaze while a smirk graced her face. Eye contact only breaking when she noticed the worker coming back to the front empty handed. Not wanting to be on the other side of his, presumably, growing irritation, she finished tying her skates and stood up. A quick glance was shot over her shoulder, leaving the alluring stranger to his dilemma.

An 808 bass guided resin wheels along maple floors. Strobe lights danced in her eyes and euphoria pulsated through her veins. After a few more songs, she finally decided to join her abandoned party of two. Naomi and Jimmy were sitting on the benches on the opposing side of the rink, his arms wrapped around her while they laughed. She found it adorable, just as much as when the couple first met. They were the perfect match, and they never made her feel like a third-wheel on their outings. So she could only imagine how crazy her face looked as she walked back to their bench, finding the new addition to their party leaning against the wall to the left of Naomi.

‘Who the fuck is h-’ her eyes squinted ever so slightly before widening. Realization and confusion tangoed in her mind while the three finally noticed her heading their way.

“This is my cousin, Roman.” Jimmy interrupted her unfinished thought, standing up and patting his cousin’s back before walking a few steps next to his wife. She was sure her facial expression said enough. Naomi looked at her with raised brows and pursed lips, holding back a laugh. The man outstretched his hand, a playful gleam in his eyes as he watched her. Chills ran down her spine as she hesitantly shook it and introduced herself. He towered over her, the top of her head barely reached the base of his neck. Blackcurrant and ambergris cologne encompassed her. Being so close to him felt magnetic. A hardened glare was thrown Naomi and Jimmy’s way; they met it with two awkward smiles and a thumbs up on Jimmy’s end.

“Sorry for interrupting.” Roman cleared his throat. “I’m visiting for the weekend and my cousin invited me out with him.” A tight lipped smile graced his face, letting her know that he, too, had fallen victim to the couple’s antics.

“Seems like those two have quite the sense of humor, huh? Naomi said the same thing to me.” A sarcastic laugh escaped her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes finally meeting his. “You should’ve known it was a set up.”

He tilted his head slightly to the side. “And why is that?” His brows furrowed in the same way she had seen earlier, slight wrinkles sat above the bridge of his nose.

Her lips formed into another smirk. “How many skating rinks do you know that actually carry a size 15.”

Roman let out a laugh and captured his bottom lip between his pearly whites, a small dimple forming in his cheek. A genuine smile spread across his face as he shook his head, causing her heart to flutter.

“Believe it or not, I’ve never been here before.” He rebutted.

Her brows raised. “Damn, you don’t visit your own cousin?”

“Oh you got jokes, huh.”

“Jimmy really dropped the ball by not telling you that I’m a comedian.” she quipped.

The rest of the night was full of playful banter between the couples. An old school evening of ‘girls versus boys’ transitioned to the Fatu’s home, where the drinks flowed and old college stories left her jumping across the coffee table to cover Naomi’s mouth. Roman and Jimmy reminisced on their youth, from wrestling in the backyard to finally making it to the mainstage together with Jimmy’s twin, Jey.

The liquor’s lethargic aftermath seemed to hit the group simultaneously. Naomi’s legs were stretched across Jimmy’s lap, his hand rested on her thigh as she nestled against him. She caught herself watching them, perhaps a bit too long. It was then she noticed Roman’s arm around her, his thumb tracing small circles on her shoulder. She let her eyes drift close, embracing the newfound comfort of her unanticipated future.

—————

If only she had known the consequences of her insecurities then. He was so good. Not just for her, but overall. Selfless. Understanding. Patient. Though she pushed the latter to exhaustion.

‘Two years couldn’t have been that long.’ She thought, knowing that each month was its own eternity. Her fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over blue digits. Apprehension started to peek through the logical side of her brain, longing fought to steer her in the opposite direction.

Push and pull. Angel and Devil.

Lucifer convinced the cognac to play puppet master, and ringing soon flooded her ears.

Once.

Twice.

A few more times.

Then she hung up. Heart sinking to the pit of her stomach. The line between relief and heartache blurred. She pressed the small button on the side of her phone, locking it before opening her purse again. Her chest tightened and a lump formed in her throat as she fought to hold back her tears. Embarrassed. ‘Pathetic.’ She thought. Of course he didn’t answer. He probably changed his number ages ago. Why would he leave that door open?

Ring.

She froze.

He was calling back.

The screen lit up with Roman’s name, his smiling face staring back at her. Her heart hammered in her chest, her breath catching in her throat. She could almost hear the ticking of a clock, like this moment held the weight of every second they’d been apart.

What if he’s moved on? What if he hates me?

Her chest tightened at the thought. But the weight of the last two years was too heavy, and the aching loneliness was unbearable. The liquor coursing through her veins urged her forward, whispering promises of fleeting courage.

Her finger pressed the button before she could stop herself.

“Hello?” The octave of her voice barely above a whisper. A long pause followed, she braced herself. There was a brief moment of shuffling before Roman decided to speak.

“Why now?” He answered, voice deep and groggy. Nostalgia engulfed her. She missed him. Her phone moved from her ear and she looked at the screen. 2:47 AM.

“I didn’t… realize how late it was...I’m sorry.” Her sentence dragged on longer than she intended. Shit.

“You’re drunk.” His tone was austere.

She hoped it hadn’t been too obvious, but Roman wasn’t fooled. “I might’ve had a drink or two. I just-”Her breath hitched. “I know... I know I fucked up.” Lucifer transformed from puppet master to a full on ventriloquist. A prolonged sigh followed by a slightly muffled ‘Fuck’ came from the opposite end of the phone.

“Where are you?”

“What?”

And for the first time in two years, her name left his lips.

“Where are you.” He demanded this time. Growing impatient with her lack of response.

She could hear him fully up and moving around. Keys jingled in the background, followed by a closed door and heavy footsteps. Those damn size 15’s . The Angel and Devil began waging another internal war. She could apologize for disturbing him so late, hang up the phone and never bother him again. Leave him, again. Or she could get left to her own devices. Allow herself to come face to face with the past that she destroyed. With the man that she never stopped loving.

A cranked engine pulled her out of her thoughts.

“I’m at club LaBelle.”

————

Another double shot of cognac found its way into her tremulous hand as she waited for Roman to arrive. Her body cemented in disbelief. He was on his way there. To her. She tried to prepare herself, playing out multiple scenarios in her head, but she was too far gone. Intoxication hijacked what was left of her partly sober mind. Her legs barely held her up as she sat on the barstool, turning to watch the sea of drunken people congregated together.

Then she saw him.

His jet black hair was tossed carelessly into a ponytail, much longer than when she last saw him. His height gave him an advantage over the crowd as he maneuvered through them, spotting her with ease. A full frown spread across his face, clearly irritated being around loud music and sweaty bodies at this time of night. Dark brows, complimented by wrinkles etched deep on his forehead, contrasted against his skin. She couldn’t read him. His eyes were empty as he looked at her, nodding his head towards the entrance. Wordlessly informing her that it was time to leave.

Not wanting to make the night difficult, she attempted to make her exit. Her head spun and heavy eyelids obstructed her vision. Roman followed not too far behind her. As they made their way outside, she stumbled, catching herself on the door frame. A long tattooed arm peeked into her peripheral vision. She shook the thought of him catching her out of her head. He had yet to say two words to her. She tried to regain her focus, eyes scanning the street for the familiar midnight black sedan.

“This way.” His voice came from behind her.

She turned her head to see him walking towards a black SUV. The headlights flashed as he unlocked the doors from the key fob. He opened the door for her, surprising her more than it should have. Roman was always a gentleman. She struggled to lift herself into the seat, limbs weak. Her legs swung into the vehicle and she let her head rest against the seat.

Roman watched her closely as she got in the car, closing the door behind her before making his way to the driver’s side. He followed suit, shutting his own door before looking over at her. Her eyes were closed, possibly in an attempt to sober up. The small button on the right side of the wheel lit up as he stepped on the brake, pushing it to start the car.

The silence during the car ride was overwhelming. Roman pulled the car in her driveway before shifting the gear to park. No one moved to speak first. Her eyes finally opened, head turning to look at him. He remained stoic. Face completely blank though his side profile was still nothing less than stunning. With liquid courage still lingering in her veins, her mouth opened to speak. “Ro-”

“Why now.” His voice reverberated off the black leather seats.

Her body tensed, finally understanding what he meant. . Emotions hit her simultaneously. Remorse. Love. Regret. Like that pivotal night years ago, it was, once again, all too much.

“I can’t right now Roman.” She slurred.

“Oh now you can’t talk? But your drunk ass can call me at 2:30 in the morning after not saying nothin’ for two years?” The betrayal of his true feelings finally spilled out of him. She watched his grip around the wheel tighten.

“I called you for weeks after you walked out and you never called me back. Hell, Naomi tried to talk to you about it in person and you dismissed her too. You completely erased me out of your life.” He continued, his voice carried as he briefly turned to face her.

A knife pierced through her chest. “I never erased you.” She swallowed back the taste of bile; not knowing if it was from her drunkenness alone or fear of it speaking for her

“You left.” The slight crack in his voice almost went unnoticed.

‘I had to.’ She thought. The words lodged in her throat fought to escape and her insobriety wielded the key.

The silence between them was suffocating, thick with unspoken words. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. Roman’s profile was as rigid as stone, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with every passing second.

“I love you, Roman,” she finally whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

His grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles white, as if her confession had sent another wave of anger crashing over him.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not after all this time. Not after I got down on one knee and told you that you’re the person I wanted to spend forever with.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the stillness of the car. “You don’t just walk out on someone you love. You don’t vanish for two years and expect everything to be okay when you decide to waltz back into their life.”

“I know I hurt you—” she began, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

“Man is this a joke? Hurt me?” Roman laughed bitterly, his eyes flicking towards her for the briefest moment. “You didn’t just hurt me. You left me, and for what, huh?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded. Her chest tightened further, guilt mixing with the alcohol in her bloodstream.

“I wasn’t ready,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I was broken, Roman. I still am.”

His gaze softened, but only for a second. “I never needed you to be perfect. I just needed you to stay.”

“Why’d you answer my call?” She challenged. “Why, after all this time, haven’t you moved on with your life?”

“Because when I said those words to you, I meant it. I never stopped caring about your wellbeing. I’ll always make sure you’re good.” He let out a heavy sigh, pulling into her driveway to park.

“I’m just not in love with you anymore.”

There it went; the cage around her heart.

Shattering. Piece by piece.

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Chains of Destiny - Eva (Ch.1)

Summary: X-men including Logan, are being sent to retrieve a young mutant woman from a experiment facility. However, not everything goes as planned.

Content Warning: mean Logan, like he's actually a jerk here. Hurt, pain, angst (hell a lot of it), mentions of torture, experiments, violence, mentiones of suicide/wanting to die,

Author's note: So I actually planned on this series for a while. Not gonna lie Deadpool and Wolverine gave me a bit of a push to finally publish this series. Keep in mind that this does not take place during Deadpool 3 timeline. This series will have lots of angst so brace yourselves and I really hope you will all love it the same way I love writing it ❤️

Word count: 8 326

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of technology from the giant monitor hanging on the wall. Around the long, metallic table sat the core members of the X-Men—Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Jean Grey, Hank McCoy, and Logan, who sat at the far end, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed as he stared at the screen.

Charles Xavier sat at the head of the table, his hands folded in front of him. The image on the screen showed a grainy surveillance feed from the inside of the lab they were about to raid. It was dark, but even through the low-quality footage, they could see her—Eva. Curled up in a glass cell, arms wrapped around her knees, staring blankly ahead. Her small frame seemed fragile, but the readings from Cerebro painted a different picture entirely.

“She’s been in there for years,” Charles began, his voice calm and measured. “A captive, used as an experiment by a faction of scientists attempting to create new, enhanced mutants.”

Jean’s brow furrowed, her eyes full of concern. “They’ve been adding mutations to her, manipulating her DNA. That’s… unethical doesn’t even begin to describe it. How has she survived this long?”

“Barely,” Charles answered softly. “She’s had to endure unimaginable pain. Not just from the mutations, but from the emotional and psychological torment. One of her powers allows her to absorb the pain and injuries of others, healing them at her own expense. But it’s more than that. It’s not just physical. She absorbs their emotional damage too. She’s a living conduit for others’ suffering.”

Ororo closed her eyes for a moment, her voice thick with empathy. “No one should have to endure that. We have to help her.”

Scott nodded. “She’s a mutant, and she’s in danger. That makes it our responsibility to get her out of there.” 

Logan leaned forward in his chair, his face twisting into a scowl. “Hold on a second.” His voice was rough, laced with irritation. “You’ve read her file, Chuck. You know what she’s capable of. That kind of power? You really think it’s a good idea to bring her here? She’s a damn walking nuke. You touch her, and she’s in your head, messing with your emotions, maybe worse. That’s if she doesn’t blast you halfway across the room with her force repulsion or whatever the hell it is.”

Jean glanced at Logan, her brow creasing with concern. “She’s been through hell, Logan. She didn’t ask for any of this.”

“I get that,” Logan shot back, his voice sharp, “but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dangerous. You saw what happened in the last raid when we tried to bring in that mutant with the volatile powers. He almost brought the whole damn building down.”

“Eva isn’t a threat by choice,” Charles interjected, his tone steady, though there was a quiet firmness to it. “She’s been conditioned, pushed to her limits. The trauma she’s endured has caused her to lose control. But she is not beyond saving.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, a growl rumbling low in his throat. “That’s the thing, though, ain’t it? Control. She’s got none. We storm that lab, and she could go off on us just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “and you know it. You’re askin’ us to walk into a situation where we don’t know if we’ll be able to handle her if she flips out.”

“Her powers make her volatile, yes,” Hank spoke up, his deep, thoughtful voice cutting through the tension. “But we’ve faced dangerous powers before. If we don’t act, she will continue to suffer. And from the looks of this lab, it’s only a matter of time before they push her to the breaking point. We have to try.”

“Try?” Logan scoffed. “What if trying gets us killed? Or worse—what if she turns into something none of us can handle?” 

Scott, who had been quiet until now, leaned forward, his gaze locking onto Logan. “We know the risks. But that doesn’t change our mission. We don’t abandon our own, especially not someone who’s been tortured like this.”

“Yeah, well, maybe this time we should think about it,” Logan muttered, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not one of us. Not yet. We don’t even know who she is.” 

“Logan.” Jean’s voice was soft but firm, a note of understanding in it. “You know better than anyone what it’s like to be taken and turned into something against your will.” 

Her words hung in the air like a weight, and for a moment, Logan’s scowl deepened. His hands clenched into fists, his claws threatening to extend. He hated being reminded of what had been done to him—of the experiments, the torture, the mind games that had turned him into a weapon. He’d spent years fighting to control the rage, to stop himself from becoming the monster they tried to make him. 

But this girl… she was different. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t hardened by battle, wasn’t tempered by a lifetime of violence. She was a raw nerve, and in Logan’s mind, that made her more dangerous than any enemy they’d faced.

“She’s not ready for this world,” Logan said, his voice lower now, but no less intense. “She’s not ready for what happens if she loses it. And we sure as hell ain’t ready for her.” 

Charles met Logan’s gaze evenly, unflinching. “I understand your hesitation, Logan. Truly. But this girl needs us. She’s been used and discarded, treated as nothing more than an experiment. If we don’t intervene, she’ll die in that lab. And if we leave her there, she may very well become the very thing you fear—a weapon. But if we bring her here, if we can reach her, she has a chance at something more. A chance to be more than what they’ve tried to make her.”

Logan grunted, looking away. He could feel the weight of the room’s eyes on him, but it didn’t change the knot of unease twisting in his gut. He didn’t trust this situation. Something about it felt wrong, and his instincts were screaming at him to walk away.

But the problem was, he couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted to turn his back, he couldn’t ignore the part of him that remembered what it was like to be the one trapped, the one without control.

Finally, after a long pause, Logan let out a rough sigh. “Fine. We go in, we get her out. But don’t expect me to play nice if she goes feral.”

Charles nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Logan. We’ll do everything we can to make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

Logan stood up from his chair, cracking his neck as he moved toward the door. “Yeah, well, let’s just hope I don’t end up regrettin’ this.”

As Logan stalked out of the room, Ororo exchanged a glance with Scott, who sighed softly. “He’ll come around,” Scott said, though there was an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

“He always does,” Jean murmured, watching the door where Logan had disappeared. “Eventually.”

Charles sat back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the image of Eva on the screen once again. Her small, frail figure was a stark contrast to the power that resided within her.

“She will need time,” he said softly, more to himself than anyone else. “But I believe in her potential. She is more than what they’ve tried to make her.”

And with that, the plan was set. They were going to get Eva out of that lab. Whether or not she could ever be truly free from what had been done to her, though, was another question entirely.

*** 

They needed to act quickly. No one was here for now, but they didn’t when they would be back.

The sharp scent of antiseptic and cold metal filled the underground lab, the walls lined with sterile, reflective surfaces that amplified the clinical horror of the place. Logan led the way. His claws twitched within his knuckles, ready to spring at any moment. Behind him, Storm, Jean and Cyclops moved in silence, their eyes scanning the corridor for any threats. They had heard rumors of this lab—where scientists experimented on mutants—but nothing had prepared them for the twisted reality.

Then Logan's senses sharpened.

"She's close," he growled, his voice barely a whisper, yet thick with urgency.

The lab was dimly lit, sterile, and cold. The sharp scent of chemicals hung in the air, mixed with something darker—something that stank of pain and fear. The X-Men moved quietly, their boots silent against the sleek metal floors. 

“Chuck better be damn sure about this one,” he muttered under his breath, his fists clenched tight. “I ain’t buyin’ this ‘save the girl’ crap.”

Jean turned her head slightly, giving Logan a sharp look. “You know she didn’t choose this, Logan. She’s a victim.”

“Yeah? You tellin’ me she’s not dangerous?” Logan’s voice was a low growl, tinged with irritation. “Because I’ve seen plenty of ‘victims’ go off and take half a town with ‘em.”

“She’s a kid,” Storm cut in, her voice firm but calm. “She’s been tortured. She needs help.”

Logan rolled his eyes, his claws itching to come out. This whole mission felt wrong to him. Saving people? Fine. But saving a mutant who could, at any second, go berserk and tear them all apart? Not so fine.

“You’re all thinkin’ with your hearts,” he muttered, his tone harsh. “And that’s a good way to get us all killed. Just sayin’.”

Cyclops shot him a look, his jaw tightening. “We’re here to help her, Logan. If you can’t handle that, maybe you should’ve stayed at the mansion.”

Logan sneered, his lip curling. “Maybe I shoulda.”

But he didn’t. Despite every instinct telling him to turn around and walk away, he came along. Part of him didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way Charles had looked at him, that quiet conviction in his voice when he said, “She needs us, Logan.”

Logan had heard those words before. He’d been the one who needed saving once. And yeah, he’d been dangerous too. But it didn’t mean he had to like this mission—or trust this girl.

They rounded a corner and found a room that reeked of fear. Through a cracked glass wall, Logan saw her—huddled in the corner, shackled to a metal chair. Her appearance was fragile, like a broken bird too wounded to fly. Tangled hair fell over her face, and her body seemed emaciated, but the air around her pulsed with something dangerous. 

Logan’s stomach tightened as he looked at her. She was small, fragile-looking, her eyes hollow, like she hadn’t seen anything good in a long time. But that wasn’t what set him on edge. No, it was the raw power he could feel rolling off her in waves, even though the thick glass. She was a bomb. One wrong move, and she’d go off.

“Let’s get her out of there,” Cyclops said, moving toward the controls.

Logan bristled, stepping forward. “Wait. What’s the plan here, huh? We just let her loose, hope she’s all sunshine and rainbows?”

 “Logan,” Jean said, her voice steady, “we can calm her down. She’s scared. She’s not going to hurt us.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the last guy who thought he had a handle on a mutant with no control.” Logan’s voice was hard, his eyes narrowed. “That guy ended up in pieces.”

Cyclops sighed, clearly losing patience. “Logan, we didn’t come here to debate this. We came here to get her out. Stand aside.”

Logan didn’t move, his eyes locked on the girl. Something in his gut twisted, but he shoved it aside. “Fine,” he muttered. “But when this goes sideways, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

The glass door slid open with a low hiss, and for a moment, nothing happened. Eva didn’t move, didn’t even look up. She was still, like an animal caught in a trap, waiting for something worse to happen.

Jean stepped forward, her voice gentle. “Eva? We’re here to help you. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Logan snorted under his breath. Safe. Yeah, right.

Storm moved forward. "We’re here to help," she said gently, trying to project calm through her voice. Her hand moved to the console, disengaging the restraints that held the girl. The moment the locks clicked open, the girl lifted her head.

At first, Eva didn’t respond. But then her eyes flicked up, and Logan saw it—the fear, the confusion. And beneath it, a barely contained surge of raw, unchecked power..

Before anyone could say a word, Eva’s body tensed, and Logan’s instincts screamed at him. Something snapped inside her, a ripple of energy that exploded outward.

“Shit!” Logan barely had time to react before the force hit him, slamming into his chest like a freight train and sending him flying back into the wall with a grunt. The others were thrown back as well, but Jean managed to hold up a telekinetic shield just in time to soften the blow.

Logan hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him. His head spun as he pushed himself up, his vision blurry for a moment. “Goddamn it,” he snarled.

Cyclops struggled to his feet, his visor sparking. “Jean, calm her down, now!”

“I’m trying!” Jean said, her voice strained as she reached out mentally, but Eva’s panic was overwhelming. The raw emotions she absorbed from the team—fear, frustration, Logan’s anger—were feeding her powers, making them spiral out of control.

Logan gritted his teeth, claws snapping out instinctively. His healing factor allowed him to push through the pain, but it didn’t stop the girl’s attack. The forcefield around her shimmered, pulsating with her terror. She backed into a corner, eyes wide with an animalistic rage, and her breathing was ragged, panicked.

Logan got back on his feet, his body aching from the impact, but he was pissed now. “This is what I’m talkin’ about!” he growled, stalking forward, his claws gleaming. “You can’t control her!” 

Eva’s eyes darted wildly, her chest heaving as waves of energy pulsed off her, distorting the air around her. Her hands trembled, her face twisted in terror. She was completely out of control, her powers lashing out blindly.

"Stay back!" she screamed. "I don’t—don’t come near me!"

Logan pushed himself up, panting. "We’re not here to hurt ya, kid," he said, voice gruff but calmer than before, trying to anchor her in the chaos of her mind. But her eyes had already glazed over—she was lost to the overwhelming storm inside her.

“Eva!” Jean called, her voice soothing but desperate. “Please, you need to stop!” 

But it was no use. Eva couldn’t hear her over the roar of her own panic. 

Logan moved in, fast and low, dodging another pulse of energy that nearly sent him sprawling. His patience was shot, his temper flaring hot. He’d warned them. He’d told them this was a bad idea. And now this girl was about to bring the whole lab down on top of them. 

“Enough of this!” Logan snarled, charging at her with his claws raised. 

Eva’s eyes snapped to him, her panic morphing into raw fear, and without thinking, she thrust her hands out. A blast of energy hit Logan square in the chest, sending him flying back again, slamming into a steel pillar with a bone-rattling crash.

“Dammit!” Logan spat, coughing as he got back to his feet, his ribs screaming in protest. His vision blurred for a second, rage bubbling inside him. “I told you!” he shouted at Cyclops, who was trying to keep his balance. “I told you this was a bad idea!”

Eva staggered back, her body trembling violently. She looked at Logan with wide, terrified eyes, realizing what she’d done. She hadn’t meant to. She didn’t want to hurt him. But the damage was done.

Logan’s gaze locked on hers, filled with fury and mistrust. “You’re gonna kill us all, kid,” he growled, his voice rough, dripping with venom.

“Logan, stop!” Jean shouted, stepping between them. “You’re making it worse!”

“Worse? You think it can get worse than this?” Logan barked, his eyes blazing with anger. “She’s a loose cannon, and you’re all actin’ like she’s some poor helpless kid. She’s not! She’s a damn weapon!” 

Eva’s breath hitched, her vision blurring as tears welled up in her eyes. She wasn’t a weapon. She wasn’t a monster. But that’s all they saw, wasn’t it? That’s all she’d ever be to anyone. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—” 

“Yeah?” Logan’s voice was sharp, cutting into her like a knife. “Well, you did.” 

Before Eva could respond, Storm stepped forward, her voice calm but commanding. “Logan, enough.” 

Logan’s scowl deepened, but he backed off, his claws retracting with a sharp snikt. He shot an angry glare at Eva, his eyes filled with mistrust. “If you can’t control yourself, you don’t belong out here.” 

Eva’s heart clenched, her body trembling as she took a step back. The pain in Logan’s words cut deeper than any wound. She didn’t want to be this way. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. But all she ever seemed to do was cause more pain.

A tidal wave of agony and fear threatened to consume her. Haunting recollections of torment, of relentless experimentation, surged through the maze of her mind. The harsh utterances of the man had become a ceaseless refrain since her arrival here. She was reduced to nothing more than an implement of warfare, forged for the benefit of others. Her emotions, her own inner turmoil, were inconsequential. She was bereft of care or compassion. 

Tears welled up in her eyes, a dam of pent-up emotion threatening to break. The potency of his words was such that it cleaved her to the quick, opening fresh wounds and exposing deeply buried insecurities in her already scarred heart. He needed to grasp the truth, he needed to comprehend the reality of her existence: she was no monster.  

Her presence here was not a matter of choice, but rather of necessity.

Without warning, she lunged at him. Her hand made contact with his arm, and suddenly, a flood of raw emotions poured into him. Fear. Pain. Desperation. The weight of all the suffering she had endured hit Logan like a punch to the gut. His mind reeled as her powers synced with his, letting him feel what she felt.  

The room distorted around him—her memories blurring into his thoughts. Logan saw flashes: needles piercing her skin, the cold, merciless faces of scientists, the endless nights spent in isolation. Every ounce of agony and torture she’d endured slammed into him, nearly buckling his knees. 

"Get out of my head!" Logan snarled, shaking her off. But it was too late—her power had taken hold, binding their emotions together like a knot. 

"Logan!" Cyclops shouted, firing a quick burst from his optic blast. The force knocked her back, but only momentarily. The girl screamed again, and this time her forcefield flared with blinding intensity, hurling them all across the room. 

Storm shot into the air, lightning crackling around her as she tried to contain the energy swirling around the girl. "We have to neutralize her, Logan—she can’t control it!" 

"I know!" he barked, struggling to regain his balance as another pulse of energy sent a chair crashing into the wall. His claws slid back into place. He could see it in the girl’s eyes—she wasn’t attacking them out of malice. It was terror. Pure, unbridled terror. But it didn’t matter. Right now, she was a threat. 

Logan moved toward her again, determined this time. "Listen, kid," he growled, "I know what they did to you. But we’re not them. You’ve gotta stop—" 

She didn’t. Her hand shot up, and suddenly Logan was on the floor, his ribs burning as her force slammed him again. But this time, before she could do more damage, a blinding streak of light shot through the air. Cyclops’ blast hit her square in the chest, knocking her unconscious. Her body crumpled, and the forcefield flickered out. 

The room fell silent. 

Logan dragged himself to his feet, clutching his side. "Dammit," he muttered under his breath, shaking the lingering disorientation from his head. 

Storm knelt beside the unconscious girl, her expression a mix of sympathy and concern. "She's just a kid, Logan," she whispered.

"Doesn't change what she can do," he replied, his voice low and dangerous.

Cyclops approached cautiously, his visor still glowing faintly. "We need to get her back to the mansion. Charles might be able to help her... stabilize."

Logan glanced at the girl’s fragile form, her face calm in sleep but haunted by the shadows of what she had been through. Something in him twisted. She was broken, just like him—but there was something more dangerous about her. Something darker.  

"Maybe," Logan grunted. But his eyes lingered on her longer than he intended. He couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how much they tried to help her, she was a ticking time bomb. And no one—not Charles, not the X-Men, not even himself—would be able to stop her if she went off again. 

Cyclops looked at Logan, as though sensing his unease. "You think we’re making a mistake?"

Logan snorted. "I don’t trust her." His gaze remained hard, unyielding. "And I don’t think she trusts us either." 

They gathered the girl carefully, carrying her out of the lab. But as they left the cold steel behind, Logan couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion in his gut. Something about her still clawed at his instincts. 

And Logan always trusted his instincts.

***

The X-Men team arrived back at the school in the early hours of the morning. The sky was still dark, the stars barely visible against the approaching dawn. The mansion loomed ahead, its windows softly illuminated by the interior lights.

Eva, awake already and restrained by the power-dampening cuffs, was guided through the front entrance. Her eyes were downcast, her steps slow and hesitant. She hasn’t talked much on their way back and no one was really in a talkative mood either. The only interaction Eva had was with Logan’s constant stare. 

The team moved with purpose but with an underlying tension. Logan walked alongside her, his jaw set and his eyes wary. 

As they reached the foyer, Charles Xavier awaited them in his wheelchair, his expression a mix of concern and resolve. He had been up all night, preparing for this moment. He wheeled forward to meet them, his gaze settling on Eva with a gentle, reassuring look.

“Welcome back,” Charles said softly, his voice warm. “I’m glad to see you’re all safe.” 

Logan, his eyes still fixed on Eva, grunted. “We got her here, but I’m telling you, this one’s a liability. Her powers are way out of control.” 

Charles nodded, his eyes never leaving Eva. “I understand your concerns, Logan. Eva, we’ll be taking you to the hospital wing for now. It’s important that we manage your powers and ensure everyone’s safety while we figure things out.”

Eva met Charles’s gaze briefly, her fear evident, but his kind eyes offered a small measure of comfort. She followed him and the team down the hall, her movements slow and cautious. 

As they approached the hospital wing, Charles turned to Logan, his expression thoughtful. “Logan, I know you’re worried. Her abilities are indeed formidable, and it’s natural to be concerned.” 

Logan’s brows furrowed, his frustration palpable. “Formidable? The girl almost killed me. She’s a risk, Charles. We don’t know what she’s capable of if she loses control again.” 

Charles placed a calming hand on Logan’s arm. “I understand. But she’s also a person who’s been through unimaginable suffering. We need to balance our caution with compassion. She’s scared and alone, and that’s why we need to approach this with care.” 

Logan shrugged off Charles’s hand, his gaze still dark. “Careful or not, we’re walking a tightrope here. One slip and we could all be in trouble.” 

Charles’s tone was firm yet soothing. “Yes, we are walking a tightrope. But remember, we have the means to help her, and we must give her a chance to prove that she can find control. We’ve faced dangers before, and we’ve come through. We will handle this situation with the same resolve.” 

Logan sighed heavily, his eyes narrowing. “Just keep her in check. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” 

“I will,” Charles said softly. “And we’ll do everything we can to ensure that doesn’t happen. But we also need to give Eva a chance to find her place here, just as we all had our own moments of struggle.” 

Logan’s gaze flickered to Eva, who was now being gently guided into the hospital wing by the staff. He didn’t say anything more, but the hardness in his eyes softened slightly.

Charles watched Eva as she was led to a bed, his concern evident. He turned back to Logan, a small, hopeful smile on his face. “Thank you for your vigilance, Logan. It’s what makes you a valuable member of this team. And it’s what will help us find the best path forward for Eva.” 

Logan nodded curtly, his expression still tense. “Yeah, well, let’s hope you’re right.” 

Charles watched him leave with a thoughtful look. He knew that Logan’s fears were not unfounded, but he also believed in the power of empathy and understanding. For now, his focus was on Eva, ensuring that she felt safe and supported as she began this new chapter in her life. 

As the door to the hospital wing closed behind him, Charles took a deep breath, preparing to meet the challenges ahead with the same determination and compassion he hoped to instill in everyone around him.

***

Logan stood at the threshold of the med bay, his silhouette casting a long shadow on the floor. The hum of machines monitoring Eva’s vitals filled the quiet, sterile air. She lay in one of the beds, hooked up to a dozen wires, her frail body looking even smaller against the white sheets. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, her face pale and sunken, with dark circles under her eyes. She looked fragile—broken, even—but Logan knew better than to trust appearances.

He clenched his fists at his sides, his knuckles white, his nails biting into his palms. Anger simmered just beneath the surface, bubbling up through his veins like molten steel, but it wasn’t the familiar kind of anger. It wasn’t the kind that came from a fight or from someone he hated. It was… different, raw and twisted, like a splinter lodged deep in his gut that he couldn’t pull out. 

Logan took a step forward, his boots heavy against the cold floor. His eyes never left the girl, even though something inside him told him to turn away, to leave. But he couldn’t. He had to face it—face her. 

“Why the hell am I still here?” he muttered under his breath, though the words tasted bitter in his mouth. He didn’t know why, but something kept pulling him back. Maybe it was that look in her eyes when she’d blasted him across the lab, that raw fear and regret that hit him like a punch to the gut. She hadn’t meant to hurt him—not really. But that didn’t change what she could do. 

*She’s dangerous,* Logan thought, his teeth grinding together. *Too dangerous.* 

The med bay door slid open with a soft hiss behind him, and Jean stepped in quietly. She glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, then back to Eva. 

“She’s stabilized.” Jean said softly, her voice careful, as if she knew how close Logan was to snapping. “Her body’s been through a lot, but she’ll recover. Physically, at least.”

“Physically, huh?” Logan’s voice was low, a harsh rasp that betrayed the turmoil inside him. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Jean sighed, stepping closer to him, her gaze flicking between him and the girl. “I know you’re angry, Logan.”

“Angry?!” He barked out a bitter laugh. “Hell, Jean, I’m beyond that.” His eyes locked onto Eva, who lay still and silent, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him. “She almost tore me apart. If I didn’t have my healin’, I’d be lyin’ in pieces right now. And it ain’t just me. She’s got enough power in her to wipe out this whole school if she loses it again.” 

Jean’s voice softened, but there was a firmness underneath it. “She didn’t mean to hurt you, Logan. She was scared. She still is.”

“I don’t care what she meant to do,” Logan growled, taking a step closer to Eva’s bed, his fists clenched. “What matters is what she can do. She’s outta control, Jean. And you’re tellin’ me you’re okay with keepin’ her here? Around the kids? You really want to risk that?” 

Jean didn’t respond right away, her eyes lingering on Eva’s small, fragile form. “She’s still young, Logan. A young girl who’s been tortured, experimented on. She didn’t ask for any of this.” 

“And what happens when she can’t keep it together?” Logan shot back, his voice harsh, laced with anger. “What happens when she lashes out again? You think the kids are safe with her around?” 

Jean’s silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, she turned to face him fully, her voice gentle but firm. “Logan, I know you’re worried. We all are. But we can’t just give up on her.” 

Logan’s face twisted, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with an intensity that made even Jean flinch slightly. “Maybe we should,” he muttered, his voice low, dangerous. 

The words felt like poison on his tongue, but part of him believed them. He didn’t want to hate her—hell, he didn’t even know why he did—but he couldn’t shake the feeling that keeping her here was a mistake. A big one. It wasn’t just about what she’d done to him in that lab, or even what she was capable of. It was the feeling that clung to his skin like sweat whenever he looked at her—the feeling that she was a walking disaster waiting to happen. 

“Look, I get it, Jean,” he said, his voice a little quieter now, though still rough. “She’s a victim. But you can’t tell me that doesn’t make her more dangerous, not less. All that power, all that hurt… It’s a bad mix. She’s too damn powerful, and she’s got no control over it.” 

Jean opened her mouth to respond, but Logan cut her off. “You don’t get it,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “I can feel it. She’s unstable. You saw what she did without even tryin’. That’s the problem, Jean. She ain’t tryin’, and she still almost killed me. You really think it’ll be any different next time?” 

Jean’s eyes softened, but Logan could see the conflict in them. “She’s not beyond help. Charles thinks—” 

“Charles is a damn optimist,” Logan spat, shaking his head. “And maybe he’s wrong this time.” 

The room fell silent after that, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Jean didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree either. She just stood there, her hands folded in front of her, looking at Logan like she was waiting for something—waiting for him to let go of the anger that twisted his face into something hard and unrecognizable. 

But he couldn’t. 

Logan’s eyes drifted back to Eva, lying there so still, so helpless. His gut twisted again, that strange mix of guilt and fury gnawing at him. He hated her. He hated the situation. And he hated himself for feeling this way. But every time he tried to shake it, tried to tell himself she was just another lost kid who needed help, all he could see was the blast of power that had sent him flying, the fear and confusion in her eyes as she lost control. 

*Too dangerous,* he thought again, clenching his fists. 

His mind raced. He couldn’t figure out why his anger was so fierce, why his hatred for this girl seemed so personal. Maybe it was because he’d been there—maybe not the same way, but close enough. Maybe it was because her powers were so raw, so unchecked, like his claws before he learned how to control them. Or maybe it was because he saw a reflection of himself in her—what he could have been, what he was still afraid he could become. 

Whatever the reason, it didn’t change how he felt. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust that she wouldn’t hurt someone again, someone who wasn’t as tough to bounce back as he was. 

“She’s too powerful,” he muttered, more to himself than to Jean. “She doesn’t belong here.” 

Jean took a step closer, her hand resting gently on his arm. “She’s scared, Logan. Just like you were once.” 

He jerked his arm away, glaring at her. “Don’t. Don’t make this about me. This is about her. She’s dangerous, and you know it.” 

Jean didn’t flinch, though her voice softened. “And so were you, Logan. But we didn’t give up on you. And I won’t give up on her.” 

Logan let out a rough sigh, turning away from her, his eyes fixed on the door now. He couldn’t stand being in that room any longer. Not with her lying there, not with all the anger boiling up inside him. His heart felt too heavy, weighed down by everything he didn’t want to feel. 

“I’m tellin’ you, Jean,” he muttered as he moved toward the door, his voice hard again, “you’re makin’ a mistake. And when it all goes wrong, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

With that, he stormed out of the med bay, the door hissing shut behind him. But the knot of anger and guilt stayed with him, gnawing at his insides, refusing to let him go.

 ***

Eva's eyelids fluttered open to the soft hum of medical machinery and the muted light of early morning filtering through the blinds. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and the occasional shuffle of footsteps outside. She blinked groggily, her mind struggling to piece together the events of the previous day.

The room was sterile and clinical, a stark contrast to the cold, harsh lab she’d known. Her wrists felt heavy, the power-dampening cuffs still securely fastened. As she shifted slightly, the soft rustle of the hospital bed linens reminded her of her vulnerable state. She winced, feeling the dull ache of yesterday’s emotional and physical turmoil.

She glanced around, trying to take in her surroundings. The walls were painted a soothing blue, and a small window offered a view of the gardens outside. It was a serene setting, but Eva felt anything but calm. The memories of her violent outburst and the fear in Logan's eyes replayed in her mind like a relentless loop.

Her breath quickened, and the panic spread. She tugged at the restraints, jerking her arms violently as she tried to free herself, but it was useless. The cuffs held firm, and with each tug, the fear inside her grew. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered what had almost happened—what she’d nearly done. 

"I could’ve killed them. I almost killed them." 

Her stomach twisted, and bile rose in her throat. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She never wanted to hurt anyone, but it didn’t matter anymore. She was too dangerous, too unstable, and the more they tried to help her, the more they were at risk. Everyone was in danger because of her. 

Her thoughts spiraled, faster and faster, and for a brief moment, she considered ripping her own wrists raw against the restraints, breaking free just to get as far away as possible. She couldn’t stay here. She didn’t belong here. She shouldn’t even be alive. 

Her body shook as the realization hit her. She didn’t want to live like this anymore. Every breath felt like a burden, every second a threat to those around her. 

"Why didn’t they just let me die?" 

Before she could spiral further, the door to the hospital wing hissed open, and heavy footsteps echoed through the sterile room. She stiffened, her eyes darting toward the figure who entered. 

It was him. Logan. 

He crossed the room with that familiar roughness, his boots heavy on the tile floor. His face was hard, expression unreadable, but the tension in his jaw and the simmering anger in his eyes told her all she needed to know. He didn’t want her here. He didn’t trust her. And she couldn’t blame him. 

Logan stopped at the foot of her bed, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at her. "You awake, then?" His voice was gruff, biting, as if the mere sight of her irritated him. 

Eva didn’t respond at first, her eyes still wide with fear. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, the weight of the handcuffs pressing into her skin. Her throat tightened, but she managed to whisper, “Why… why am I still here?” 

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his lip curling slightly. "Good question. I’ve been askin’ myself the same thing." 

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She bit her lip, tears threatening to spill over, but she swallowed them down. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” 

Logan’s eyes flashed, and he took a step closer. “That’s the problem, kid. You didn’t mean to, but you did. Almost tore me apart, nearly killed everyone in that damn lab. Hell, if you’d gone all the way, this whole place could’ve been rubble by now.” His voice was low, dangerous, each word dripping with the frustration he was barely holding back.  

Eva’s chest tightened, guilt flooding her system. “I don’t know how to control it,” she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I don’t know how to stop it." 

Logan’s gaze didn’t soften. If anything, his eyes grew colder, harder. “That’s the point, isn’t it? You can’t control it. So why the hell should we trust you? Why should we risk the kids, the people in this school, just because you’re scared?” 

Tears finally spilled over, and Eva shook her head, feeling the weight of his words crush her. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be alive!” Her voice was desperate, her entire body trembling. “You’re right, okay? I’m a danger to everyone, and I know it. You should’ve let me die.” 

Logan’s face twitched, just for a second, and something flashed in his eyes—something almost like regret. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that same hard, cold mask. “Maybe,” he muttered. “Maybe we should’ve.” 

His words hit her like a slap, and Eva turned her head away, unable to look at him anymore. Her chest heaved with sobs, the weight of everything pressing down on her until she couldn’t breathe. 

Just then, the door to the med bay slid open again, and Charles Xavier entered, his wheelchair moving silently across the floor. The tension in the room shifted, and Logan stepped back slightly, though his posture remained rigid.

Charles’s voice was soft, calming, as he approached the bed. “Eva,” he said gently, his eyes kind as he looked at her. “You’re safe now.” 

“Safe?” Eva’s voice was bitter, a shaky laugh escaping her lips. “How can you say that? I almost killed him.” She nodded toward Logan. “I could’ve killed all of you. I’m not safe. Not for you, not for anyone.” 

Charles’s expression remained calm, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes. “We understand that you’ve been through unimaginable pain. But you’re not beyond help, Eva. We can work with you, teach you how to control your powers. You don’t have to go through this alone.” 

But Eva shook her head violently, panic rising in her throat. “You don’t understand. They’re going to come for me. The people who did this to me, they’ll come back. And if I’m here, they’ll destroy everything in their way. You’ll all be in danger because of me. I—” Her voice broke, and she lowered her head, trembling. “Please… please just kill me. End it. I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.” 

Logan’s jaw clenched at her words, his anger bubbling up again. He wanted to snap at her, to tell her how selfish it was to think death was the answer, how ridiculous she sounded. But instead, he stood there, watching her break down, and for the first time, he felt a flicker of something else. Pity, maybe. Regret. He hated it, but it was there. Deep down.

For a moment, he saw himself in her—the same lost, broken thing, unsure of his place in the world. And it twisted something inside him.

Charles leaned forward, his tone soft but firm. “We don’t give up on anyone, Eva. You have a home here, if you choose to stay. We will help you, as long as you let us.” 

Eva shook her head again, tears streaming down her face. “I’m too dangerous. You’re making a mistake.” 

Logan exhaled sharply, stepping forward. “Maybe we are,” he growled, his voice cutting through the air. “But that’s not your call to make. You wanna give up? Fine. But Charles is right—we don’t give up on people here. So you’re stuck with us, whether you like it or not.”

His words hung in the air, and Eva stared at him through tear-filled eyes. She didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved, but all she felt was the crushing weight of guilt and fear. She wanted to believe they could help her, but deep down, she wasn’t sure anyone could.

And that terrified her most of all. 

Eva’s tears soaked into the hospital pillow, and for a moment, the room was thick with silence. She couldn’t shake the terror clawing at her chest. Charles’s kind words barely registered through the haze of guilt and fear. Every instinct screamed to get away, to run before she hurt someone again. But the restraints around her wrists, humming with the suppression of her powers, kept her pinned to the bed, a prisoner to her own body.

Logan stood by the door, arms crossed, his expression dark. He had always been a difficult person to read, but right now, his anger was crystal clear. He didn’t want her here. He’d made that painfully obvious. Part of her agreed with him. She was too dangerous. Even if Charles promised help, what could they really do? 

She had almost killed them. All of them. Logan, especially, and he wasn’t going to forget that anytime soon.

Logan broke the silence first, his voice sharp and cutting. "You think just 'cause we say we’ll help, that’s some kinda ticket outta responsibility? That you can just sit back and let us fix you? You’ve gotta want it. And I don’t think you do, kid."

Eva flinched at his words, her face contorting in pain. His anger wasn’t just justified—it was expected—but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. She turned her head away, unable to look at him.

"I don’t want anything," she whispered. "I just want to disappear."

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his frustration clearly boiling over. He took a step closer to the bed, his voice rising. "You think you’re the only one who’s been through hell? You think you’re special ’cause they did some experiments on you? Join the damn club." He jabbed his thumb at his own chest, his scowl deepening. "I’ve been there. I’ve done all that, and guess what? I didn’t get a choice. So don’t you stand there askin’ us to give up on you just ‘cause you’re scared."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and Eva’s tears flowed harder. She squeezed her eyes shut. She had been through hell, yes, but she didn’t have his strength. She couldn’t fight it the way he had. Her powers were out of control, and she was too weak, too broken to even try.

“I can’t control it,” she choked, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I don’t know how to stop it. You don’t understand. They built me to be a weapon. I’m a ticking time bomb, and sooner or later, I’ll explode again.”

Logan clenched his fists, his knuckles white as the words hit him. He hated how familiar it all sounded, hated how much of his own past he could hear in her voice. But he couldn’t let that soften him, not when the stakes were this high. Not when she could destroy everything they’d built here, everything they protected.

 “I get it, alright?” Logan growled. “You’re scared, and yeah, maybe you’ve been turned into a weapon, but that doesn’t mean you get to give up. You’re here now, and if you’re gonna stay, you better start fightin’ for somethin’ other than your damn self-pity.”

Eva trembled, her wrists pulling at the restraints as if she could somehow claw her way out of this nightmare. “I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to be anywhere. I should’ve died in that lab. It would’ve been better for everyone.”

Logan’s face tightened, a growl building in his throat. His anger, which had been simmering on the surface, was threatening to break loose. But before he could unleash another biting remark, Charles raised a hand, his voice calm but firm.

"Logan," Charles said gently, his gaze shifting from the girl to the man, “perhaps we should ease up.” 

Logan shot Charles a sharp look, but there was something in the Professor’s eyes that made him pause, though the tension in his body remained. He backed off a step, arms still crossed, but the scowl stayed firmly in place. His anger wasn’t gone—it was just barely contained. 

Charles turned his attention back to Eva, his voice soft and steady, the same calm she’d heard from him before. But this time, it pierced through her haze of fear just a little. 

"Eva," he began, "I understand why you’re afraid. I can’t pretend to know the extent of your pain, but I do know this: you are not alone. You are not the first person to feel like their powers are too much to bear, and you won’t be the last. This place, this school, is for people just like you." 

Eva shook her head, tears still streaming down her face. “You don’t get it. It’s not just me. The people who did this—they’ll come back for me. They’ll come for all of you. You’ll be in danger because of me.”

Charles’s expression didn’t waver. “We’ve faced threats before, Eva. But we believe in protecting those who cannot protect themselves. No one here will abandon you, no matter how great the risk.” 

“Maybe you should,” she muttered, her voice barely audible. “Maybe it’d be better if you did.” 

Logan scoffed from the corner, his patience thinning. "Maybe she’s got a point. You’re gambling a lot on someone who’s not even sure she wants to be saved, Charles. She could bring this whole place down." 

Eva flinched again at his words, her heart aching with the weight of them. He was right. What was the point of trying to help her if she didn’t even know if she could be helped?

But Charles, as always, remained resolute. 

“I know the risks,” Charles said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of authority. “But I also know that we must give her a chance. Eva, if you stay here, we will do everything in our power to help you gain control. You can have a life, a real life, outside of the torment they put you through.” 

Eva swallowed hard, her chest tight. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to, but the fear was too overwhelming. What if she couldn’t control it? What if Logan was right, and she was just too dangerous to be here? 

She shook her head, the tears never stopping. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if it’s even possible.” 

Charles leaned closer, his eyes filled with the kind of kindness she hadn’t seen in a long time. “We will help you find out. But first, you must give yourself that chance.” 

Eva’s breath caught in her throat. She stared at the Professor, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but there was none. He was offering her a lifeline, but could she trust herself to take it? 

Her eyes drifted to Logan, still standing with his arms crossed, his face hard. He looked at her like she was a threat, like she didn’t belong here. And maybe she didn’t. Maybe he was right.

But part of her wanted to fight. Just a small part, buried beneath all the pain and fear, but it was there, flickering weakly.

“I don’t… I don’t know how,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

Charles smiled gently. “You start by staying. By trusting us.” 

Logan scoffed again but said nothing, though his eyes bore into her, still filled with distrust. But for a fleeting second, something flickered in his gaze. Maybe it was pity, or maybe just the faintest trace of understanding. Either way, it didn’t last long, quickly replaced by the cold mask of doubt. 

Eva closed her eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She didn’t know if she could trust them—or herself. But for the first time in a long time, she had a choice. She could choose to run. Or she could choose to stay and try. 

It was the scariest choice she’d ever faced.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Need You Now

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky thinks about the hurt he caused you as he is left with memories of happier times. Does he get a second chance at life with you?

Warning: Angst, sadness, drinking, hope?

Word Count: 1125

A/N: Thank you to my beta readers @pigwidgeonxo​ & @lfnr-blog-blog-blog​ & @music-culture-mythology (any mistakes on spelling & grammar are my own. Did this on my phone)

A/N 2: This used to be a Dean Winchester fic but since I write for Marvel only I'm switching this to a Bucky Barnes fic.

A/N 3: Song fic, Need You Now by Lady Antebellum. Lyrics in Bold.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

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Bucky is such a fool. He let the one person he loves the most leave after an argument. He said a lot of hateful things to push you away and it seems that this time it might be for good. Why couldn’t he see that he deserved a life away from constantly going on missions? You’re willing to settle down with him and give him the normal life that he always dreamed of. Now he is haunted by pictures of you both together in happier times scattered everywhere. His phone is in his hand ready to dial your number but would you pick it up? Has he crossed your mind as you have with him? Screw it, he dials your number and lets it ring. But you don’t pick up. God, he was such a fool to let you go. 

Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor

Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?

For me, it happens all the time

Bucky looks at the clock and sees that it’s a quarter after one in the morning. The feeling of loneliness swarms over him as he drinks his whiskey slowly. He thinks back to the sadness in your eyes when you ask him, “Are you sure you want this?” God, no he didn’t want this to end but he was too proud of a man to admit it. Looking at the locked screen on his phone he sees your smiling face. He wants to call again, though a part of him tells himself to let you go so you can be happy. Bucky doesn’t know what he’ll do without you but if this is what a broken heart feels like he never wants to feel it again. The other part of him is screaming that he needs you. He needs to see your smiling face, hear your laughter, and taste your lips. What he would give to have you come through that door again and tell him you can’t live without him. Though if he was honest he doesn’t know how he is going to live without you. Dialing your number again he silently prays that you will pick the phone up but it goes to voicemail. 

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now

Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door

Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?

For me, it happens all the time

Bucky pours another glass of whiskey as he thinks about the life you could have had together. You both had talked about having a family one day and getting that little house with a yard big enough for a dog. Yes, that was the life that could have been. But it’s all a distant memory now. He should have never allowed going on missions so much to be the deal breaker between you both. He deserves a chance at a normal life. Grabbing the glass of whiskey he downs it in one gulp. Bucky promised he wouldn’t call but fuck it. While he has the courage he quickly dials your number and listens while it rings. After the fifth time ringing, it goes to voicemail.  Dammit, he screwed up. He just hopes that you’re sleeping and not ignoring his call. Maybe he should try to sleep as he is feeling a little buzzed. Though how could he sleep knowing you won’t be there in the morning? As Bucky leans back on the couch he tells himself he would rather have these hurt feelings than feel empty inside. Unbeknownst to him, his finger dials your number again. 

It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now

Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now

And I said I wouldn't call but I'm a little drunk and I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without

I just need you now

Bucky shut his eyes for a few minutes and woke up to someone shaking him. He groans his disapproval and slowly opens his eyes. There you are staring at him with a sad smile on your face.

“Bucky, I saw you called me several times. Is everything okay?” You sound concerned as you ask him. He looks awful and smells heavily of whiskey. You notice the pictures of you both are scattered everywhere.

He looked over to the clock on the wall and it was just after three in the morning. You came over this late? “I’m fine, sweetheart. I was just drinking some whiskey. No need to worry about me.”

“Does this have anything to do with the argument we had?” You question him as you look at how much whiskey is missing from the bottle. 

He sighs. “No, yes, maybe. I just wanted you to know I didn’t mean anything that I said earlier. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. I want the future we talked about. I want out of the Avengers if you still want to as well. Just say the word and it’s done.”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod your head. “I do want that but Bucky you hurt me. Saying you don’t want kids…”

“I was an idiot. I do want them with you. I want the house, the yard, everything. Just give me a chance to prove myself to you.”

A small smile flashes across your face. “Well, I hope you’re serious because Bucky I’m pregnant.”

Bucky sits up quickly and pulls you into his lap. He kisses you passionately, tongues slowly dancing together as you grip him harder against you. When he pulled away so you could both breathe he let out a chuckle. “I’m so freaking happy.” Finally, everything is going to be alright. You need each other and so both of you vow to never make drastic decisions again. Today is the beginning of your forever, just the three of you. 

***

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[ilovelovewithallmyheart]

PR STUNT - Gojo Satoru

Synopsis: After crashing the Met Gala, publicist Y/n set her celebrity client Gojo Satoru on a charming PR stunt with the daughter of the CEO of a fashion brand to patch things up. Uncooperative, Y/n has to step in and pretend to be her in a romantic photoshoot.

Word count: 1.1k of pure comedy and fluff.

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“Okay now hold hands.” 

His hands met the clammy palms of Ms Beaumont’s and Satoru positively wanted to die.

I’m too rich to be forced to do this, Satoru mentally groaned.

He was a poor tortured soul, forced to enter into a publicity stunt after he accidentally crashed the met gala.

“I didn’t mean to show up drunk and half naked!” He wailed. 

Y/n, his publicist of five years, was giving him hell.

You were absolutely done with his shenanigans. You and his pr team decided to force him through an eight month long publicity stunt with the daughter of a major fashion brand.

“It’s to make people think that you appreciate and respect the fashion industry.” You explained, giving him a seething glare. He pouted. “I do appreciate the fashion industry! Whatever I wear, I still look hot!”

You stared at him, unblinking, wondering how in the world you ended up with such a client.

Leaving the room with laptop in hand and much needed coffee in the other, he called out in a hurry. “Everyone thought that showing up shirtless was a stylistic choice!”

So there you guys were. You were overseeing a very fake looking photoshoot in which Satoru and Ms Beaumont were strolling through central park, looking very much in love.

Well, Satoru kept refusing to even touch Ms Beaumont, and Ms Beaumont was glued to her phone screen.

“Okay, this isn’t working.” The photographer was pissed. You all were - you were only keeping it together because Ms Beaumont and Satoru had enough money combined to buy a country. The photographer sat Ms Beaumont down on a bench and cornered her, while a makeup artist was touching up Satoru.

“I need you to look at Satoru like he is the best thing you’ve ever seen.” The photographer said. He was basically talking to a brick wall - she was scrolling through instagram. “He isn’t though.” She monotoned, bored out of her mind. “Well I need you to pretend that he is!”

She stopped scrolling and looked up at the photographer like he was the dumbest person alive. 

He paused, stepped away for a second, and breathed deep and hard to calm himself down. When he returned, his mouth was pinched and he was borderline crying. “Look, just picture something you love the most, or something that makes you extremely happy. Then picture it pasted onto Satoru’s face. Can you do that?”

He was speaking to her like she was a child. She nodded, yawned, then commented several fire emojis under a shirtless man’s post. 

“Don’t do that.” The photographer had tears streaming down his cheeks now. He shook his head. “You’re in love with Satoru. You can’t be-“ He snatched the phone off of Ms Beaumont aggresively - “commenting on other men’s posts.”

**

Take two was going well. The photographer’s advice was working wonders - Ms Beaumont was actually smiling and looking at Satoru happily (miracle!) and Satoru was holding her hand! (he looked a little frightened, nothing photoshop can’t fix).

The photographer was taking fake paparazzi photos of the two of them. They were taking a casual stroll, and the photographer was taking shots in rapid procession to make it look candid and organic.

Big mistake - he captured the progression of the most funniest thing you had ever seen in your life.

All of a sudden, Ms Beaumont reached up, grasped a clump of Satoru’s white hair, and yanked it as hard as possible towards her.

“OOW!” He yelped.

“GET HER AWAY FROM ME!” He RAN behind the production crew and hid behind his manager, actual TEARS in his eyes. “SHE’S A PSYCHO!”

“Why would you do that?” The photographer screeched.

She shrugged and grabbed her phone out of her bag. “You told me to imagine he was something I loved. When I see a birkin bag, I want to grab it.”

**

Legal action.

Satoru was threatening legal action.

As his publicist, a law suit is just about the worst thing that he could do.

Drunkenly crashing the met gala shirtless and then filing a lawsuit against his alleged girlfriend all in one month is enough to send you into cardiac arrest.

The sun was setting fast. Golden hour was rapidly approaching. Ms Beaumont won’t be in New York City for the next two months - you needed to get those photos.

You took out your phone to check your emails. Dazedly scrolling through sponsorship opportunities, hate mail and fashion companies wanting to sue Satoru, the photographer suddenly placed his palm on your shoulder.

“You know, when you’re bent over your screen like that you remind me a lot of Ms Beaumont.” 

You paused. “..Thank you.”

He earnestly nodded. “You have the same hair colour and height. Good camera angles and a little bit of touching up is all you need to look like her.”

“What?”

He sighed, exasperated. “Look at her.”

Ms Beaumont was taking selfies of her outfit.

“This isn’t working. They have no chemistry and they’re scattered across the globe half the time. Why don’t you just pretend to be her? You resemble her a lot now that I think about it.”

oh no.

**

Your feet were shoved into heels. You hair was quickly straightened. Your entire outfit was worth more than everything you earned in the past two years. 

And Satoru’s arm was firmly fastened around your waist.

He got over the whole hair grabbing ordeal suspiciously quickly, cheering up exponentially when he was told that you were replacing Ms Beaumont. He practically skipped back into position.

You were positioned away from the camera so that it wasn’t obvious that you weren’t Ms Beaumont. Your face was, essentially, stuffed into Satoru’s chest.

Against the hollow click - click of the camera’s shutter, Satoru warmly chuckled. He inclined his head downward, his forehead touching yours rather intimately.

“YES!” The photographer squealed.

“You feel stiff.” He whispered, voice low in the limited space between your lips.

He wrapped his other arm around your waist and gently guided you into a more relaxed position. “That’s better.” He smiled, thickly lashed eyelids slightly lowering. His blue eyes hungrily scanned your eyes, then your cheeks, then your lips.

You were getting madly sweaty.

“Am I making you nervous?” He teased.

Yes, yes you are.

“No.”

You looked away.

“You only make me nervous when you do stupid stuff in public.” You scolded.

He chuckled again and cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him only. “I should do stupid stuff more often.”

“What?” You hissed. 

He laughed harder, more…affectionately?

“I get to spend more time with you when I do.”

You flashbacked to the long, long night of scoldings you gave him at the office the night after the met gala incident.

The sound of the camera stopped, and the photographer looked faint with relief.

“That’s a wrap!” He cried.

Reluctantly, Satoru let go of your face, the memory of your eyes and lips still engrained in his mind.

He watched you scurry off red faced with a smile and a wild, erratic beating in his heart that he hoped you couldn’t feel.

The next eight months didn’t seem so terrible after all.

[ellieswrldd]

crazy in love

(pt. 2 to drunk in love)

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: after a hot quickie with ellie at a nightclub, the two of you find yourselves extremely into one another. so when she asks to take you out on a date, you agree.

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, photography during sex (ellie & reader take pictures during sex), fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), strap-on use (r!receiving), breast play (r!receiving), use of terms pretty girl, baby, and brat (once), ellie calls the strap her cock, very brief spanking, ellie is a bit of a space nerd!, not proofread. a/n: read part 1 if you haven't already! originally, drunk in love was supposed to be a smutty lil one shot but yall gave it sm love that i wanted to do a quick follow-up! tysm for 1k+ notes on the first part <33 (also, nobody is going to stop me from naming my fics after beyonce songs!! they're too good)

Since Dina’s bachelorette party, only one thing had been on your mind. Well, more like one person. Ellie Williams, the cheeky girl who defended you against a creepy guy at the club and then fucked you dumb in the women’s bathroom. After that night, you couldn’t help but blush every time you thought about her. 

You’d been texting with her nonstop, exchanging flirty messages every day. She was dying to take you on a proper date, something unique and romantic, as she described it. And finally, you agreed. 

Tonight, Ellie was picking you up for your date. She was being awfully shady, refusing to share details about what she had planned for the night. 

You sat in your room, touching up your makeup and fidgeting nervously as you waited for Ellie to arrive. Earlier, you had spent an embarrassing amount of time on the phone with Dina, struggling to pick out something to wear. Thankfully, you managed to put something nice together– this time your outfit was a bit less revealing and much more comfortable than what you had worn to the club where you met Ellie. Soon enough, your phone buzzed with a notification of a text from Ellie. 

E: I’m outside, pretty girl. 

Pretty girl. The nickname she’d adorned you with the night that you’d met. It seemed to stick because when you exchanged numbers, Ellie set your contact name as the pet name. Her texts made your stomach leap– every time you saw her name on your home screen, a little smile crept onto your face. 

R: i’ll be out in a second ❤️

Ellie stared at your text while she waited for you in her car. Letting out a flustered sigh, she shut off her phone and tucked it in her pocket. While she really didn’t want to show it, Ellie was nervous about the date. How could she not be? Everything about you made her heart race, even over text. She considered herself more than lucky to have fucked you, let alone in a public bathroom. 

She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, glancing at your front door every few seconds. Like you, Ellie had also spent a ridiculous amount of time getting ready. She stood in front of her closet for nearly an hour, groaning in frustration as she tossed her button-downs and graphic tees to the floor. Eventually, she settled on one of her nicer flannels and a pair of Dickies she had yet to wear. A shaky breath left Ellie’s lips as she watched you step past your front door, you looked just as stunning as the night she met you. You met Ellie with a broad smile as you slipped into the passenger seat of her beat-up truck. 

“Hey, Ellie,” You greeted her, your voice soft and low. You leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Missed you.” You murmured. 

“You’ve been texting me every day for the last week,” Ellie laughed as her cheeks grew warm. 

“You know what I meant…” You rolled your eyes playfully and slid the seatbelt around your body. “So, what do you have in store for me tonight?”

“Don’t you want it to be a surprise?” Ellie questioned as she put the truck in drive and moved onto the road. 

You let out an exaggerated sigh and reached out to turn the radio on. “If you insist!” You flipped through the stations until a familiar song quietly played through Ellie’s speakers. 

The drive wasn’t long, Ellie asked a few questions about your day, which you happily answered in detail. When she finally parked the car, you were outside a townhouse. The red brick and black accents of the building were softly illuminated by the tall street lamps standing on the sidewalk. “Ellie, is this your place?” You asked, slightly in awe at the vintage aesthetic of the architecture. She nodded, a small smile on her lips. “Is this what you had planned? Taking me to your house and having sex with me?” The words were full of sarcasm but you still wore a playful grin. 

Ellie rolled her eyes and undid her seatbelt. “‘Course not, well– maybe later– but, no. I have something else in mind.” She chuckled.  

You laughed and followed her as she unlocked the front door, your eyes immediately wandering to the houseplants she had on the front steps that led to the entrance. 

“C’mon, this way.” She instructed once you both had kicked off your shoes. Ellie directed you up the stairs, her hand intertwined with yours as you walked together. “Okay, close your eyes,” She placed a hand on your lower back. “No peaking! I’m serious, y/n.” You laughed at her tone and shut your eyes. Ellie opened the door to her bedroom and gently pushed you inside. “Open,” Ellie murmured, her lips gently brushing against your earlobe as she stood behind you.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, carefully taking in the details of your surroundings. Ellie’s room was decorated with lit candles and a large blanket on the floor. She had a plate of snacks waiting on the blanket, accompanied by a bottle of an expensive-looking wine. 

“What is all of this?” You turned to face her. 

Ellie shrugged and stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Well, I wanted to take your stargazing,” She sat on the blanket and looked up at the skylight above her. “But, it’d be too cold outside for it to be enjoyable. Instead, I figured this would be good enough.” Ellie pat the spot on the blanket beside her, gesturing for you to sit with her. You lie next to her, looking up at the skylight. Your eyebrows raised slightly. 

“Wow,” You muttered as you took in the array of stars above you. 

“If you think that’s cool,” Ellie stood up and went to open her closet. She returned holding a white telescope that looked at least a few years old. Ellie placed it between you, positioning it to face the skylight. “Look at this.” She fidgeted with the telescope for a moment before beckoning for you to sit in front of it. 

You leaned forward and closed one eye, the view of the night sky filling your vision. Ellie sat behind you, one hand on your waist as she spoke quietly about the stars. 

“This is so pretty, Ellie.” You pulled away from the telescope to flash a smile at her. 

“Here,” She nudged the telescope slightly to the right and leaned in to talk into your ear. “See that yellowish dot?” You hummed for a moment until your gaze landed on the dot she was talking about. 

“Yeah, I see it.” You squinted through the telescope as you looked closer. 

“That would be Saturn,” Ellie squeezed your hip gently. “Usually, you can only see it during the late summer through the fall.” You pulled away from the telescope to look at Ellie. 

“You’re really into this, aren’t you? The whole space thing?” Ellie nodded and laughed softly. She shrugged off her flannel and revealed the assembly of tattoos that adorned her arms. You stared at her arms for a moment, your eyes stuck on the way her muscles rippled as she moved. You knew she was muscular based on the way she picked you up with ease in the bathroom of the club, but you hadn’t realized how toned she was. 

“I have a few space tattoos on my arms, actually.” She pointed to a detailed tattoo of the sun and moon on her shoulder. You traced your fingers across the dark ink gently. 

“You are such a nerd, Ellie.” You teased as your eyes flicked upwards to meet hers. She laughed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you onto her lap. 

“Wouldn’t that make you a nerd by association?” Ellie grinned at you, lips only an inch or two from yours. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You replied in a smug tone as you rest your arms on her shoulders. 

“Oh, come here, you tease.” She pulled you in for a kiss, giggling softly against your lips. Ellie’s hands rested on your thighs as you kissed, her thumbs tracing small circles. 

Before the kiss could progress further, Ellie pulled away and kissed your cheek. “I bought some nice wine and snacks– are you hungry?” 

“Yeah, actually, I’m starving.” You laughed and climbed off her, settling back down on the blanket. As Ellie poured you a glass of wine, you looked around her room. Her wall was covered with posters of bands you’d never heard of, paintings, sketches, and photographs. Glancing at her nightstand, you saw a black and white Polaroid camera. “Are you into photography?” You asked as you stood up and grabbed the camera. 

“Oh, yeah. It’s just a hobby of mine, same thing with painting and drawing.” Ellie shrugged as she watched you inspect the camera. “C’mere, let me see it.” She stood and joined you, gently taking the camera from your hands. “Smile,” Ellie instructed while she raised the camera to her eye. 

“You’re going to take a picture of me?” You giggled. 

“Why not? I think you look beautiful.” Ellie lowered the camera a bit so you could see her eyes again. 

“Well, why don’t you take one of both of us? I think I’d like that better,” You said softly. Ellie bit her lip and nodded, gesturing for you to stand beside her. 

“Come close so you’re in the frame,” Ellie slid her free hand around your waist and turned the lens of the camera to face the two of you. “Ready?” You leaned in and gently placed your lips on her freckled cheek, pausing and waiting for the flash of the camera. Ellie smiled, her eyes closed and her cheeks pink as she took the photo. 

After a moment, the camera spit out a small photo of you and Ellie. She passed it to you, her eyes watching your reaction closely as you saw the Polaroid. 

“This is so cute, Ellie!” You exclaimed, glancing from her to the photo. 

“It’s ‘cause you’re so pretty.” She chuckled. “Maybe you should model for me sometime…” Ellie trailed off, her green eyes wandering to your lips. 

“I wouldn’t mind that,” You smirked and pulled away from her to go and sit on the blanket. As you took a long sip from your glass of wine, Ellie joined you and set the camera next to her. 

Time seemed to pass quickly, and conversation flowed easily between you two. Ellie was…perfect, she laughed at all of your jokes, shared her personal stories, and snuck in affectionate touches. You lay side by side, gazing up at the clear night sky through her skylight. You listened to her ramble quietly about space and astronomy, your eyes focused on Ellie’s face as she looked up at the stars.

It didn’t take long for Ellie to catch you staring at her, her cheeks flushing a reddish color. “What?” She giggled as her gaze traveled from your eyes to your mouth. 

“Nothing, just…watching you.” You sighed. Ellie propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at you. She lightly ran her thumb across your lower lip. 

“Was I boring you?” She uttered as you pursed your lips and kissed her thumb as it pressed against your mouth. 

“No, I love watching you geek out. It’s cute.” You flashed a cheeky grin before Ellie swiftly climbed on top of you. With a knee carefully wedged between your thighs, Ellie raised an eyebrow. 

She narrowed her eyes as she looked down at you. “Don’t you know staring is rude?” Ellie whispered, trailing her fingers from your lips down to the valley between your breasts. 

“Why don’t you do something about it then? Maybe you should teach me a lesson.” You breathed, your eyes dark with neediness as you stared at Ellie. She stared at you in silence for a moment, a small smile on her lips. 

“Okay, if you insist…” Ellie laughed softly and pulled her face away from you, her hips moving to straddle yours. She took your hands and pinned them above your head with her left hand. Biting her lip, Ellie reached past your head and grabbed the camera that was resting a short distance from your body. “Said you wouldn’t mind modeling for me, right?” She cooed as she positioned the camera in front of her eyes with her free hand. A quick white flash lit up the room as Ellie took a photo of you. She set the camera next to her leg and began to slowly tug your shirt up. 

Once your bra was revealed, Ellie inhaled sharply. You watched as her tongue darted out to wet her lips while her eyes studied your body hungrily. She lifted the shirt off your body and tossed it to the side. 

“Pretty.” She hummed, gently rubbing one of your nipples through your bra. Ellie was still holding your hands above your head, leaving you completely to her use. 

“Ellie…” A quiet whimper left your lips as Ellie slid a hand under your bra, toying with your hardened nipple.

“What am I going to do with you? Hm?” Ellie muttered and leaned in to kiss your neck. Her teeth grazed the soft skin as she left small love bites down your neck. She reached down to the center of your bra where a front clasp kept your breasts covered. Ellie’s brows bunched together as she fumbled with the tiny clasp. 

“Need some help?” You teased, a cocky grin on your face. She glared at you and bit her lip before her focus returned to the clasp. Ellie finally undid it, the bra falling from your chest. 

“I know how to take off a bra, you brat,” Ellie said, her voice husky despite the soft laugh she let out after the words left her. Pulling her hands away from you, she found the camera once again and pointed the lens toward your exposed tits. “Play with your tits,” She instructed, covering the blush on her cheeks with the camera. 

You didn’t hesitate to obey her instructions, using your now unrestricted hands to pinch your nipples while you looked up at the camera lens. 

“You’re a natural,” Ellie smirked, and she snapped a photo. You squirmed beneath her, desperate for some sort of friction or relief to the ache burning between your legs. You’d been thinking about this moment all night, wondering if sex between you two could get any better after your quickie in the club bathroom. 

“Please,” You whined, toying with your breasts as you pathetically bucked your hips up into Ellie’s. 

“God, you’re so needy.” She whispered. Ellie raised her hips and began unbuttoning your pants, then pulled them off in one swift motion. 

You spread your legs and revealed your panties to Ellie. You watched her reaction closely, smiling softly as you noticed her breathing grow heavy and her eyes dilate when she saw the wetness soaking through your panties. “Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer.” 

Ellie laughed and shook her head. Without responding to your remark, she grabbed the camera and took a photo of you spreading your legs. “I’m not sure what I want to do to you yet…” She mumbled. Her slender fingers slowly brushed up and down your bare thighs while her eyes lazily trailed up and down your body. 

“Jus’ fuck me, Ellie.” She didn’t hesitate to tug your panties off your legs as soon as the words left your mouth. You moaned as she slipped a finger gently inside your cunt. 

“You’re going to regret being so demanding, pretty girl,” Ellie said as her dark green eyes returned to yours. Her slow pace soon turned quick as she added another finger and began curling her fingers inside you. You writhed uncontrollably beneath her when her digits brushed against an extra sensitive spot inside you. 

She didn’t wait for you to tell her that you were close to your orgasm– Ellie could tell by the way your walls were clenching around her fingers. In an almost teasing manner, Ellie lowered her head slowly and kept her eyes on you as she pressed her tongue against your clit. The sensation practically made you wail– the feeling of her tongue swirling around your needy bud while her fingers fucked into you persistently was more than enough to make you cum. 

You took Ellie’s camera with shaky hands and took a photo of her going down on you. You caught a glimpse of the Polaroid as it spit out of the camera and fell to the floor. Ellie looked just as perfect in the photo as she did in real life, her freckles standing out against her pale skin, her long, dark lashes fanning over her closed eyes while her tongue was pressed against your cunt. Even the messy strands of hair that fell in front of her face looked flawless. 

“I’m- Mmph!” Your breathy words were interrupted by your moans as your back arched and you came all over her tongue. Your breathing was heavy as Ellie removed her fingers from your slit and slowly licked your juices off her fingers. You closed your eyes as you felt Ellie pull away from you and heard her shuffling throughout the room. 

Ellie’s hand carefully pushed your legs open, and you sighed softly. A quick flash brought your attention back to her as your eyes opened and landed on Ellie’s sly grin. 

“Didn’t think I was done with you just yet, did you, pretty girl?” Ellie cooed as she ran her calloused hand up and down your stomach. Your skin was soft and smooth against her calloused fingers. Hesitantly, you looked down at Ellie’s hips where she was wearing a strap-on dildo over her black boxers. While you’d been coming down from your climax, Ellie had stripped down to her boxers and sports bra and slid on her strap. 

The strap was not the same one she’d fucked you with before– in fact, you were almost certain this one was bigger. It was black and seemingly thicker and longer than the last. You whimpered at the sight of the strap, causing Ellie to chuckle. 

“You asked me to fuck you,” Ellie said, her voice low and raspy as she slid the tip of the strap along your wet cunt. “So I’m going to fuck you and teach you a lesson.” You moaned as she slid the dildo against your clit with more pressure. A soft whine escaped you when Ellie pulled away and sat across from you. 

“What’re you doing?” You asked quietly as you sat up and looked at her. 

“If you want to be fucked so bad, why don’t you do it yourself?” She raised an eyebrow. God, she looked so cocky at that moment. It almost annoyed you that she enjoyed teasing you so much. You huffed in frustration and crawled over to her, settling down in her lap. 

Still grinning, Ellie leaned back against the floor. She looked up at you with one hand behind her head, the other loosely gripping your hip. You pouted and placed your hands on her toned stomach. Slowly, you raised your hips and pushed the strap into your dripping slit. 

Almost immediately, the room was filled with your moans and whines while the strap sunk deeper and deeper inside of you. Ellie shut her eyes and her grip on your hip tightened slightly, hushed curse words spilling from her lips. With one hand, Ellie snatched the camera and hurriedly took a Polaroid of you sinking onto the strap, your face contorted in pleasure. 

“So deep…” You panted. Ellie moved her hands up and down your hips, forcefully grinding your hips against her own every time you slid back down on the strap. 

“Taking it so well, fuck,” She groaned and bucked her hips upwards. You threw your head back and moaned loudly when she thrust into you. Ellie’s breathing was heavy, and her hands grasped at your hips so tightly you swore she was going to leave bruises. Her hand wandered, rubbing your lower stomach while she fucked into you. She pressed against your stomach with her hand, causing you to gasp loudly. “Shit, swear I can feel my cock inside of you like this,” She bit her lip and kept her hand on your lower stomach, the pressure making you clench tightly around the toy. 

“S’too much, Ellie!” You cried out and your movements slowed slightly. With her free hand, Ellie slapped your ass just hard enough to sting for a moment. You whimpered and resumed the pace you had been moving at. 

“Don’t stop now, pretty girl, you’re doing so good…” Ellie praised, the hand on your stomach moving down to circle your clit. “Do you need some help? Is that what it is?” She mumbled. 

You nodded quickly and slumped forward, nuzzling your face in her neck while you lazily moved your hips. Her hands ran along your back, tracing the bumps of your spine down until they reached the curve of your ass. She palmed at the flesh, squeezing the fat of your ass as she began to pull your hips up and down the thick strap. You moaned brutally as she slammed into you deeply, the tip of the strap kissing your cervix with each aggressive thrust. 

Ellie pressed you against her body tightly and muttered quiet curses. “I- I’m so close-” You whined. 

“I know, baby, I know,” She breathed with her lips pressed against your ear. You reached down and rubbed your clit while Ellie thrust inside of you. It didn’t take long for your body to begin spasming, long moans and cries of pleasure spilling from your lips. Your climax coursed through your body like a wave, a blinding rush of ecstasy blocking your senses for what seemed like hours as your body grew limp. Even after the initial climax, a more subtle buzz of satisfaction ebbed throughout you. 

“Oh my god,” You whispered. Ellie stroked your hair and laughed softly. 

“You did so good, pretty girl.” She sighed and turned her head. Her gaze landed on the camera before she glanced down at you. “Smile, baby.” Ellie reached out and turned the lens of the camera to face the two of you. She kissed the top of your head as she pressed the button and the camera froze the image of you smiling weakly in Ellie’s arms.  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ tags: @ximtiredx , @asteroidzzzn , @ellabsprincess as always, reblogs, replies, and likes are appreciated<33

[chaotic-mystery]

what if instead of dbf joel it's ex-boyfriends dad joel 🤭 his son cheats on reader and reader goes to his house to confront him but it's just joel there and one thing leads to another... 🤭

A/N: This one is kinda filthy and Joel is a smidge of a perv, so keep that in mind. CW: SMUT (18+), choking, cheating, age gap, roughness, hatesex, dirty talk, pet names, perv!joel, you get the point.

You slammed your car door shut and stormed up the driveway at your boyfriend's house, ready to give him a piece of your mind about him cheating on you. If he thought for one second you’d just accept him cheating on you and then breaking up with you, he was sadly mistaken. Your hand curled into a fist ready to pound on the door when it suddenly opened, Mr. Miller staring at you in the face. “Hey, sweetheart. He ain’t home at the moment, is there somethin’ you needed?” his tone sounded innocent, he must not know. “Do you know what your piece of shit son did to me? Did you fucking raise him to think cheating was smarter than breaking up with someone because that’s a fucking shame if you did.” Your misdirected anger took him by surprise, he pushed the screen door open slowly as he took in every word you said, nodding his head. 

“No, sweetheart, I didn't teach him that. That’s pretty terrible you’d even ask if I raised him to think that way. What was your plan for comin’ here lil lady, hm? Were you gonna yell at him, make him feel bad for hurting you, make him apologize?” Your eyes looked down at the wooden porch as you thought about it for a few seconds, not having a clear answer for him. “I don’t know Mr.Miller, I just wanted to ask him why. Why did he do it?” you shrugged your shoulders before he pulled you into a hug. He rested his chin on your head and sighed deeply. “Sounds like you could use a drink, yeah?” 

Joel walked you inside, his hand pressed against your lower back as he walked you into the kitchen you were in about a thousand times before. He grabbed a bottle of tequila off the top shelf in the cabinet and poured you a shot. “How’d you find out he cheated on ya if you don’t mind me askin’?” He nudged the glass towards you and closed the bottle as he awaited your answer. As you downed the drink, your face scrunched slightly at the burning sensation, “someone sent me a fuckin picture of him kissing a girl, his hands were all over her. So like any rational person I sent it to him and asked what the fuck was he doing with his tongue down her throat.” You stared down into the empty glass and you could feel your blood starting to boil again. “You never found out who sent the photo? You didn’t bother to text them back asking who it was or anythin like that?” He pressed for answers and it started to fire you up. “No, but what if I call the number? Then I can hear their voice to see if it’s familiar.” Reaching into your back pocket to pull out your phone, you found the text from the random number and clicked CALL before Joel could respond. It started ringing in your ear when all of a sudden there was a faint ring coming from Joel's pocket. 

The look of pure shock plastered on your face as a smirk grew on his face, he tossed his still ringing phone on the island counter in between you two. “What..the fuck Mr.Miller? Why would you do that to me? I thought you respected me more than that bullshit text!” You shouted and shot up from the chair, making your way to him fast. He stood straight and braced himself for whatever you were thinking about doing, and your palms collided with his chest as you shoved him backwards. “I do darlin, you would’ve never believed me if I told you. You had to see for yourself that you need a man and not a boy.” His hands reached out for your waist and you pushed him away again. This wasn’t real, there’s no way he’s hinting at this right now. 

“He’s your son for fucks sake! What are you trying to do right now, sleep with me? I hate you. I fucking hate you” you snarled through gritted teeth and continue to shove him when his arms wrapped around you tightly. Your voice got quieter as he engulfed you, shushing you softly. “You hate me sweet girl? Is that it, hm? If you hate me so much why did I catch you in my doorway when I was jerkin off the other night? I saw those gorgeous eyes just for a split second in the crack of my door before I came and all I could think about was cummin’ all over those gorgeous tits of yours.” Your face got hot and your mouth went dry, embarrassed he caught you watching. He reached down below your ass and lifted up, sitting you on the counter. You parted your legs to let him stand between them, his hand instantly sliding up your thigh and under your skirt. “You’re fucking sick, you know that?” you muttered, your heart feeling like it’s going to beat out of your chest and your panties growing with wetness. His thumb grazed over your aching clit, your panties dulling the relief. “Tell me more about how much you hate me, pretty baby” Joel muttered in the crook of your neck as his hand pulled your panties to the side and his fingers danced along your folds slowly before he found your sensitive bud to circle around. Your head tilted back as a whimper escaped your lips, your nails digging into his shoulder as he applied pressure and speed against your clit. “I fucking hate you so goddamn much, you don’t deserve me like this” you muled out and bucked your hips a little. His soft lips met yours as he drank in your moans. God damn was he good with his fingers. You meant that though, maybe under different circumstances he’d deserve you half naked wrapped around his fingers but not like this, not with how he handled the situation. 

“How do I deserve you baby doll? Do I deserve you bent over this countertop with my cock buried inside that sweet little pussy? Or do I deserve you sitting on my face, riding my tongue until you cum on me?” You wanted it all. You wanted him no matter how angry you were at him. You’d fantasized about him since you caught him jacking off to your photo that night and maybe some small part of you was glad he noticed you in the doorway. “Shut the hell up and keep going, Joel. Fuck that’s so damn good” your hips rocked faster against him as he wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing firmly. “Yeah I bet you hate how good I make you feel don’t you, bunny? You hate the way I’ve got that sweet pussy dripping wet and all I’ve done is show you the attention you deserve. S’okay, you can hate me for that.” His lips met yours again, deep slow kisses exchanged while his fingers moved faster, becoming more and more covered with your sweet slick. “I’ll tell you one thing princess, your wet little pussy doesn’t hate me. So wet and excited for me, just aching to cum from me rubbing your clit. Bet you touch yourself thinking of me and you hate that, don’t ya? C’mon angel, use your voice you had no problem using earlier.” he encouraged while he squeezed your throat tighter. He sent your head in the clouds so you nodded in agreement, your body shaking as your orgasm was due fairly soon. 

Your moans filled the kitchen as you squeezed your eyes shut, the pressure on your clit becoming too much. “Joel I’m gonna cum p-please don’t stop” you begged between moans and you were practically grinding against his hand by now. He loved seeing how worked up you got, how much you were using him to get off. “Yeah baby, jus’ like that. Show me how much you hate me by cummin’ all over my fingers so you can watch me lick it up.” Joel pressed sloppy kisses on your slightly swollen lips as he moved faster on your clit and your grip on his shoulder tightened as you came undone all over his hand. You tried to clamp your legs shut but he refused you of that pleasure. “I fuckin- hate you so much” you breathlessly said as you rode your high out until your clit no longer thumped with excitement. Your eyes finally opened as he took his fingers up to his face, his eyes on yours the whole time as he shoved his fingers in his mouth teasingly. “I don’t think you hate me that much, princess.”

[teasemates]

Case: Robin

Steve sat on the sofa with his laptop. He finally had time to take a look at the Onlyfans account stuff he hadn't had the opportunity to look through because being busy at work, having to do double shifts because both of the other baristas at the cafe were sick.

His eyes grew large when he opened the request listing. There were over 40 new ones.

He started to go through the requests and the further he got, the wider his eyes opened. He felt his cheeks heating—something he'd experienced during these last few weeks way more times than he'd ever had—as he read them. Of course he'd known the followers would ask for plain porn but he hadn't expected all this. It didn't mean he wasn't ready to try all of them at some point, he was just surprised.

But not as surprised as he was when he saw the number of tips they'd gotten so far: $3,080

“Uhm…Billy? Come see this. I think…I think we've created a monster.”

Billy was sitting on the couch, gripping his Playstation controller as he played a video game - something about the wild west and a dead sheriff escaping Hell. He’d heard some kids at the pool talk about it and he’d gotten curious. With the few tips they’ve already made from the Onlyfans account he could afford to splurge on a new game.

He hadn’t expected there to be so many people engaging with the profile right from the start so it was becoming a little overwhelming - it was work, chores, Onlyfans profile stuff… Where did his free time go?— But at least they were making money. And a lot easier than finding a second job. Just the thought of it made Billy feel like he could die.

Billy was shooting at some enemies when Steve called to him. “What—” He glanced at him for a second, and in that split second he got shot. He could barely manage to bring out the menu to pause the game, before he ended up dying. “What is it?” he asked, leaving the controller on the table as he scooted closer to Steve, peeking into his opened laptop. “We didn’t get banned or something, right?”

After reading through all the requests, having Billy sitting next to him so close felt awkward all of a sudden. Not in a bad way but in a whole another way. Some of the requests were asking them two engaging in sexual activities and Steve wasn't exactly sure if he was yet ready for that. He was barely acknowledging that he had feelings towards Billy and not at all sure if those would ever be reciprocated.

He swallowed and tried to chase those thoughts away from his mind. He turned the laptop for Billy to see better. “No, I think this is on the contrary.” He pointed at the amount of tips, then at the requests. “We're getting serious money with this.” He couldn't help blush creeping on his face, knowing that Billy would look at the requests as well. He tried to direct Billy's attention away from them. “And it seems that we also need to invest on some accessories.”

Billy noticed Steve shifting in his place awkwardly but he paid it no mind. Since starting this account, both of them had been realizing things weren’t as simple as just taking a picture. Billy was finding himself thinking about Steve more often, in more sexual ways… and he couldn’t allow himself to entertain these thoughts when there were face to face. He knew that there would come a time when they would do some of these stuff together and he needed to be cool, think of this like being in the locker room - don’t stare for more than 2 seconds and mind your own business. He even felt more pressure to act cool with it since he’d seen Steve had been getting shy and embarrassed. Furthermore, he’d noticed that he’d also stopped making eye contact often, kept his distance a bit more and Billy was getting scared if this account was pushing them away rather than closer…

Billy stared at disbelief at the wall of requests on the screen. He scrolled and they just kept going. “What the—” he mumbled, eyes scanning over the lines. Flush started to creep up his neck as his eyes landed on one particularly descriptive one. “How—what— how much money is this?” he tripped over his words, fighting with himself about starting the conversation of what they actually wanted to do. Would they decline some? Would they try to do them all? Would they—

Billy’s face was completely red when he turned the laptop back to Steve.

“You know— we don’t have to do them all.” Billy hurried to say, worried that if Steve was starting to pull away before, this would be enough to scare him completely. “If you’re not comfortable with it…”

Seeing that Billy was clearly as flustered about the prompts felt comforting. It wasn't like they'd known that this was what it all was about, but it had still clearly surprised them both. “We're now at over 3000 dollars. Just in a few weeks.”

He grimaced and tried to take a calming breath. Even though he might've not felt ready, the thought of doing all those things with Billy was exciting, he couldn't deny it. And it wasn't like he hadn't ever watched porn. Seeing these things live in front of him, doing them to and with Billy, though… Even if it would never lead to anything else it would be all the porn he'd ever need for the rest of his life.

This had been Billy's idea. He could've said no, but he'd agreed to it. It wasn't like he would be backing out now when it was time to walk the walk.

He bit his lip, shaking his head. “No, the requests ar–are, um…they'r–they're fine,” he stammered. He felt himself burning all the way up to the tips of his ears. He willed himself to glance at Billy. “People paid for us to do them. It's not like we can ignore them.”

Billy's eyes almost fell out when he heard 3000. He broke his back working like a dog for half of that and they got it now just sitting around at home.

Money was a good thing but… He pushed himself to put it aside for now. It was an astronomical sum of money, but he didn't want to put money above his relationship with Steve.

"Listen, I'm serious, forget about the money." he reached out and nudged his arm with his hand. He really missed Steve looking at him when they talked, missed sitting close… Maybe Steve didn't noticed he was shying away from it now, but Billy did. "If there is anything you really don't want to do, don't force yourself just because people paid for it. We were managing without that money so far, we won't die without it. We can just refund it."

It was soothing to know that Billy didn't want to push it with whatever price. But Steve also realised that Billy was not going to let him off the hook until he assured that…

Everyone thought he was a vanilla guy, wanting it in one position throughout his life, preferably in the dark and with a woman. He wasn't, he just hadn't had anyone willing to try them with. Well, not before now. And he'd always thought that the person he'd try these things with would be someone he had an established relationship with before trying.

“It's not that I don't want to do them.” He looked at Billy. “Alright? I really am fine with them. Or at least most of them. There's stuff, you know… I've wanted to try.” He was sure he was beet red by now. He'd kept his feelings a secret and this whole Onlyfans thing had forced him to process them. Maybe it wasn't that bad if he'd say something about them, at first at least. To see how Billy would react. He took a deep breath. “Just didn't expect it to be you I'd be trying them with, and…” he said quietly. A smile tucked the corner of his mouth and he nudged Billy's leg with his knee. “I'm fine with that too. It's just new, okay?”

Billy swallowed hard, flush deep on his face. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to do those things with Steve - hell, he wanted to run to his bedroom and jerk off just imagining some of those. But… it was scary. He’d never done some of these things before, and it was nerve wracking thinking about doing them in front of a camera too.

“I guess… um… I don't know if I'm ready to do anything too big yet.” he admitted, redness going up to his ears. “I know what I said, but…” he glanced at Steve, before looking away quickly. “There are some… really heavy requests and I… I'm sorry Steve.” he covered his face with his palms. “I'm the one who talked you into this, and now I'm chickening out— I’m not chickening out!” he corrected himself, pulling his hands off his face. “I’m still down to do the stuff–I’m just– It’s new for me too.”

Steve let out a nervous laugh. “It's okay. We can do the heavier ones when we feel ready. We don't have to rush to it. And because, uh…doing stuff in front of the camera…I mean, I could take pics of myself like that, I guess, but some of those require two hands and, uh… yeah. Lot's of things to get used to.”

He tried to keep his eyes on his laptop. He knew he had this stupid, wide grin on his totally flustered face and he couldn't reel it in. He hadn't felt this close to Billy maybe ever. They were doing something special together and not only that but something that maybe would bring them even closer. Or so Steve at least hoped.

He decided to change the subject. “Anyway, I was thinking…we're getting more and more requests all the time and some of them require all these props and then there's handling the money. Since we're busy with the requests and then we have to work too and you know that I suck with money, what would you think if we asked Robin to help a little? Like, she could be like an assistant or something. Get the props and manage the money for us, maybe help if we need to get new equipment like camera and lights too.”

“Yeah…” Billy chuckled, heat still on his cheeks as he lifted his eyes to Steve’s face. Billy wanted to do all of them, especially with Steve, just… maybe it was going to be best to not rush with the more heavy ones. Just go with what feels comfortable and have fun. They’d seen each other naked before, they’d never been shy to touch each other. Never like that, but just in general. So he wouldn’t overthink it.

He smiled at Steve, less shy and nervous and more cheeky and playful, like it always had been between them.

“You’re right.” Billy pressed his head backwards on the couch with a groan. “I can’t keep track of it all anymore. I didn’t think it would get so complicated so fast!” he stretched his arms back. “Would be great to have some help. Do you think she’d go for it?”

Steve looked at Billy and shrugged. “I did show her some of the pics we’ve already shared and she was…surprised. Not in a bad way, just maybe she didn’t quite expect us being willing to do the stuff we’ve already done,” he said. “Like the cow and lamb costume thing. But she’s definitely not ready for these numbers.” He paused, amused. “Nor for the accessories she needs to buy for us.” He leaned his head against the backrest and looked at Billy, grinning. “I’ll give her a call and we’ll see. If my hunch is right she’s not entirely unfamiliar with all that stuff.”

___

This is Billy's and Steve's Onlyfans RP account. Billy and Steve are "running" the account, the team behind it is Aggressiveviking & Suometar. Feel free to play into or out of the rp in any way you like, all interactions are welcome 💕💕