#eighteen down thirteen more to go

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part eighteen

767 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen

Steve isn’t sure what to do. He knows what he wants to do. He wants to stuff Eddie’s locker full with every thought he’s had in the past week and a half without an outlet. But would he be receptive to that?

By practice the next morning he’s decided that he’ll give it a try and then see if Eddie’s still wearing the ring.

He figures the boy isn’t ready to talk about it face-to-face yet, given he brought out the ring instead of simply talking to him. Then he had the gall to ask Steve if he was okay.

No. He’s really not.

Eddie you talk with your hands a lot it’s hypnotizing it was one of the first things i noticed about you at the beginning of the year i never knew what you were saying from so far away  but i felt like i was in on the conversation just from that and i never feel like that, so thank you p.s. i’ve missed talking to you well, not talking, but you know p.s.s. i could definitely say more but i don’t wanna bombard you  so we’ll save all that for later thank you for giving me another chance

Steve is nervous walking into the lunch room. For the first time since he switched, he takes his usual seat on the side of the table where Eddie is in his line of sight. 

Steve was worried that he would have changed his mind and taken the ring off, but there it is on his right hand. 

Steve actually engages in conversation with Tommy and Carol for the rest of lunch so Eddie doesn’t see him staring, even if he feels a little better about it now that Eddie knows who he is and is still wearing the ring. 

Out of the corner of his eye, though, he catches sight of Eddie talking animatedly to his friends, arms waving this way and that, perhaps a bit more than usual and Steve has to tamp down a smile. 

They don’t talk in class until the bell rings and Steve realizes Eddie didn’t say where they were meeting after class today. 

He must have forgotten all about it because he goes to stand up and Steve has to catch him by the wrist before he makes his escape. Eddie jerks back out of instinct and shoots him a questioning look. Steve busies himself with packing his bag to avoid eye contact. “Wanna meet at Benny’s? On me?” he asks tentatively.

Eddie bats his lashes. “Steve Harrington wants to buy little ol’ me a milkshake from Benny’s Burgers? Oh my,” he says breathily, fanning himself.

Despite him raising the pitch of his voice several octaves to sound more feminine, Steve’s face still burns. Oh god. 

Steve rolls his eyes and swings his backpack over his shoulder. “Is that a yes?”

Eddie nods, pulling a piece of his hair over his face and as cute as the whole blushing maiden act is, Steve has to resist reaching out to tuck the hair back in place so he can see his smile. 

He bites his lip and backs away. “See you there, Munson.”

“Yup, see you there, Harrington.”

— — — — 

They don’t talk much once they get going on their projects. Eddie, of course, attempts multiple times to catch sight of Steve’s portrait. 

He even goes as far as to sneak up on him on his way back from the bathroom, not thinking Steve would be anticipating the act. Steve had pulled a blank piece of paper out of his bag and placed it over his actual project. On the paper, he drew a stick figure with Eddie’s haircut and huge eyes. Remembering how much Eddie had seemed to like Steve’s more unsettling attempts at art, Steve made the eyes as realistic as he could manage while the rest of the thing looked like a child had drawn it in a hurry. 

Steve didn’t even know Eddie had come out of the bathroom until he heard laughing and wheezing coming from behind him. 

He didn’t turn around. He simply sipped his strawberry milkshake until Eddie fell into his seat once he’d calmed down. The boy pouted for all of two seconds before breaking out into a smile and commending Steve’s foresight. 

Once they pack up and Steve pays the bill, they make their way outside and he pulls out the prank drawing. 

“Here,” he says, holding it out to Eddie. 

“For me?” The smile he gets in return is beaming.

Steve’s rides that high well into the next day.

nineteen

tag list (closed)

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sorry if i missed anyone!!

[kettlefire]

Age is but a Number (DPxDC)

Daniel Fenton was only thirteen months old when he took his first steps. Only fifteen months old when he said his first words. He was two years old when he uttered his first sentence.

Danny could walk back his whole timeline from the moment he opened his eyes into this world. Except, none of those moments counted. They held no true weight for Danny's life.

No, there were certain moments that mattered. That had a clear shift to his life. Not every moment, not every milestone mattered.

Danny was five years old when he first felt the sting of disappointment at his parents missing a school event. He was six years old when the lab door was closed in his face for the first time, but not the last time.

He was eight when his young mind realized who was the one raising him. The one feeding him, waking him up, getting him dressed, and dealing with his tantrums.

Danny was ten when he learned to love and hate his parents for the true first time. Seeing both the good and the bad in them, and still loving them despite it.

He was eleven when he watched his sister crack under the pressure. Stood teary-eyed in the doorframe of her bedroom as he watched her cry and sob. He was twelve when he got into his first real fight with his mother, hiding away at Tucker's place for a few nights.

Danny was fourteen years old when he stepped into his parents' portal. When he accidentally hit the on switch. When a combination of ectoplasm and electricity ruined his life.

He was only fourteen when he experienced death for himself. Felt his life force leave him, and flood him at the same time.

Danny was still only fourteen when his world changed. New powers and abilities appear out of thin air. When a crazed billionaire latched on to him. When Danny had taken the mantel of a hero without meaning to.

He was still just fourteen when his life was filled with constant fighting. Both ghostly and human. Things got more tense between Danny and his mother. School was a weight that Danny wasn't sure he could handle.

Danny was fifteen when he had an existential crisis. The weight of a looming crown he was meant to take on the moment he turned eighteen or died fully. Having witnessed timelines where his family was gone. Having recognized a pattern of repetition in a life that Danny didn't want.

He was still fifteen when he made an impulsive decision. It was stupid and rash. Something expected from an angsty teenage boy, and not from an heir to a throne and a town to protect.

There had been no big fight. No big showdown. His parents still didn't know his secret. Danny hadn't bothered telling Tucker, Sam, or Jazz about his great plan. One moment, Daniel Fenton was in Amity Park. The next moment, he was gone without a trace.

Danny is just a fifteen year old boy, perched on a hill miles away from home. He didn't know what he was doing or what he was going to do. He didn't even know what state he was in.

He had just flown through the sky, a bag of emergency supplies slung over his shoulder. Danny had no intentions of stopping. That was until he stumbled cross a state line, and felt it.

A strong sense of caring and love. A feeling that Danny could only compare to the love he felt from Jazz. There was a strangeness in the air, but also a feeling of home. It drew Danny in like a moth to a flame.

Danny was just fifteen, curled up on a damp hill. Staring up into the night sky, and wishing for things to be different.

Not completely different. He didn't want to get rid of Phantom. Didn't want his life to go back to how it had been. Danny wanted things to get better. He wanted to feel like a kid again, something he realized he hadn't felt in a long time. Despite Jazz's best efforts to shield him.

The first tear had left Danny before he even realized it. A shaking hand wiped the tear away, silently cursing at himself for being such a baby.

Except that wasn't the only tear. It was like a dam, he never knew was there, had broken. Tears streaked down Danny's cheeks faster than he could wipe them away. Choked muffled sounds quickly turned to harsh gasping sobs.

Danny was only fifteen when he finally broke. Curled up on a random hill in a random state in the middle of nowhere. A glowing young teenager whose glow only seemed to dull with each gut-wrenching sob. Yet the stars seemed to twinkle even brighter than ever on this countryside.

So lost in the whirlwind of emotions that Danny was too young to fully decipher, he never noticed the approaching vehicle. Didn't so much as flinch when it came to a stop near him.

Danny's pain radiated with each sound he made. With each tear that left his toxic eyes. There was seemingly no end to it all. Until a single voice managed to pierce through Danny's bubble.

"Oh, dear... It's just a boy. Quick, grab a blanket!"

A small, frail voice was all it took. A voice weathered with age, and a tremble to it. Danny's whole body froze, head lifting to look at the speaker.

Except his vision had been quickly covered for a brief moment as an old flannel blanket was suddenly wrapped around Danny's shoulders. It smelt of dirt, hay, and warmth.

A kind old woman quickly followed to take a seat beside the glowing teenager. A warm, loving smile on her lips as she brought a thermos to Danny. An equally old and warm man seemed to follow behind her.

Danny's sobbing had quieted as quickly as it had started. The teen was completely bewildered, stunned to silence. This old couple, the embodiment of the American dream, didn't so much as blink at the sight a glowing boy crying on their land.

She had called him a boy. She had called him a boy. Danny was just a boy to her. His hands trembled as he accepted the thermos, taking a drink from the still hot coco inside.

Danny's stunned silence must have spoken volumes. The old man had given out a chuckle, moving to stand beside his wife.

"Don't worry, bud. Our son is just as strange as you."

Danny was just fifteen years old when he stumbled onto the Kent farm. When John and Martha Kent stumbled upon a crying glowing boy. When a sweet old couple hadn't cowered in fear but instead embraced Danny. Offering kindness and comfort with no strings attached.

He was only fifteen when he found himself a new home. A new life. One where he didn't have to be anything more than a teenage trying his best. When his powers weren't needed, only appreciated. Never expected.

A life where a warm home-cooked meal and a mother's kiss seemed to greet him every morning and night. Where a father's touch seemed to linger in every tractor lesson, every game of catch, and every time Danny learned more about the farmer lifestyle.

Danny was fifteen when he found his family. When he met the equally kind son of an amazing couple. When he had someone willing to teach him how to handle his powers, but never expected him to.

But Danny was seventeen when his past came back. When a town and people he cared about, all came flooding back in. When the guilt and shame of abandoning them came flooding back in.

When his new picture, perfect life started to crumble around the edges. When he realized life never went well for a Fenton and Fenton-adjacent. The perfect safe bubble had to burst eventual.

And well, that's a story for another day.

[kkami-writes]

waiting for us ― a skz social media au.

pairing. OT8 x fem!reader synopsis. At age 16 you either get your soul mark (in the form of your soulmates name somewhere on your body) or you become a blank, someone who doesn't have a soulmate. You've long lost any semblance of hope or comfort in the magic of soulmates, despite the fact that you have 8 of them. genre. soulmate!au, college!au, social media!au + written parts, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut cw. swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendos, skz should be in horny jail, eventual smut (MDNI), domestic abuse, sexual assault/harassment, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal tendencies/thoughts, implied/referenced past suicide attempt, male x male relationships (skz are soulmates), polyamory, kms/kys jokes, mentions of homophobia + transphobia, lots of written parts, reader is really bad at feelings, ulzzang pics (this is more so to focus on the fashion), appearance of junhao, yeji and hyunjin are siblings, more to be added status: ongoing! / taglist: CLOSED! wanna support my work? consider buying me a coffee.

yn's accounts | the boys chapter one. go to horny jail chapter two. sus chapter three. welcome home cheater chapter four. you come here often? chapter five. sk8er boi chapter six. just a coincidence chapter seven. soulmate tingle chapter eight. down bad chapter nine. avoidance chapter ten. feminine urges chapter eleven. the whole circus chapter twelve. fairy boy chapter thirteen. apologies chapter fourteen. simp behavior chapter fifteen. not slick chapter sixteen. scooby doo chapter seventeen. screwed over chapter eighteen. back off hoe chapter nineteen. the gig chapter twenty. the plan™ chapter twenty one. yn chapter twenty two. a chance chapter twenty three. good morning chapter twenty four. totally subtle chapter twenty five. opening up chapter twenty six. howls moving castle chapter twenty seven. a deal chapter twenty eight. girls daye chapter twenty nine. girl dinner chapter thirty. the clit chapter thirty one. knight in shining armor chapter thirty two. masterpieces chapter thirty three. #NPP chapter thirty four. beach episode chapter thirty five. in the rain chapter thirty six. rumours chapter thirty seven. laser tag chapter thirty eight. cat cafe chapter thirty nine. bruises chapter fourty. sunrise

waiting for us masterlist part 2!!!!

[kpopsexstories]

QUICK FIX #19: NCT Haechan needs your naked body for push-up motivation

Member: NCT Haechan

Content: Sweet/cute, Missionary, Cumshot, Jerking off, Haechan doing push-ups on top of you

Type: MEDIUM

Word Count: 1,354

This story is part of my Quick Fix Dirty Kpop Imagines series. Check it out for more smut and other members and groups 😊

“Babe, come here,” Haechan calls from the bedroom. You come over to see him naked on the floor doing push-ups.

“What the hell babe?” you exclaim and laugh out loud. “What are you doing?”

“I've got that bet with Mark remember? I can't let him win.”

The sight of Haechan's body stretching out turns you on. The way his muscles tense and his ass cheeks clench while he works out. Holy shit that's hot!

“I need your help,” he says and stops mid air, arms straight below him. He looks at you with a huge grin on his face.

“What?” you ask suspiciously.

“Motivate me. Get under me.”

You think for a second, but it's an idea you won't turn down. You're already incredibly horny.

“We'll just end up making out. I don't think that will help you beat Mark.”

“Sure it will. I mean, no we won't. I'm already doing 50 a day, but I need to do a hundred. Come on, lie down for me.”

“Alright,” you say and start taking off your clothes. Haechan looks at you with a puzzled expression.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I thought you needed motivation.”

“Well, like that we'll end up doing a lot more than making out…”

“Probably. Now scoot over.”

Haechan quickly relaxes and rolls on his back. You spot his hard dick.

“Babe, you're stiff already…”

His eyes widen. “Yeah, of course. Just look at you!”

Naked and feeling naughty, you smirk lovingly at your boyfriend as you lay down on your back in the middle of the floor. Haechan sits up beside you and look at you with amazement.

“So fucking sexy,” he says.

“Shut up. Get over here and let's get to work. We can't let Mark win.”

Haechan returns to his previous position, this time with you directly under him. He positions himself between your legs and stretches his arms. You lock eyes and smile at each other.

“A hundred you said?” you ask.

“I've already done fifty though!”

“Doesn't count. I'll count for you, starting now.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, then slowly bends his arms to lower his body onto yours. When you're within reach, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

“One,” you say when his arms stretch and he pushes himself back up.

“Two.”

You smile wide at the adorable face above you.

“Three.”

His smile disappears as he focuses on working his muscles.

“Four.”

His lips feel soft and plump, so kissable.

“Five.”

You glance down, to see his stiff dick dangling between his legs.

“Six.”

It brushes against your folds with each deep push-up.

“Seven.”

Haechan's face is getting red, and his arms are shaky.

“Eight.”

He closes his eyes, visibly struggling to keep going.

“Nine.”

He stops, hovers above you and grimace. “Babe,” he says. “That's fifty-nine, okay? I told you I needed motivation.”

“Still nine,” you say and grin.

Haechan glares at you and giggles.

“Ten.”

You fix your position slightly, and enjoy the sensation of his rock hard cock rubbing against your skin.

“Eleven.”

You almost moan the number.

“Tweleve.”

Ahh, fuck this is hot!

“Thirteen.”

Haechan lets out a grunting noise.

“Fourteen.”

You suddenly reach down between your bodies.

“Fifteen.”

Haechan moans through clutched teeth when you grab his boner.

“Sixteen.”

By now, he isn't even kissing you anymore.

“Seventeen.”

You pull the dick head back as it tries to move away from you.

“Eighteen.”

The head pokes at your folds.

“Nineteen.”

It slides inside you, only to be pulled out when Haechan straightens his arms.

“Twe…”

“Ahh, fuck babe! Stop teasing me.”

“Twenty. Come on, don't slack! All the way down.”

Haechan groans, a mixture of exhaustion and sexual pleasure.

“Twenty-one.”

Your fingers wrap tighter around the shaft, and you smile sensually at the man seductively.

“Twenty-two.”

You play with your boobs, teasing your boyfriend as his cock penetrates you repeatedly.

“Twenty-three.”

“Babe, I'm done! I can't keep going.”

“Nu-uh! I'm far from satisfied. You better not stop until I am. Twenty-four.”

Inspired by your words, Haechan manages to squeeze out a few final, deep push-ups.

“Twenty…five…” you moan as his dick slides half way inside you.

“Twenty…SIX!” The cock pleasures your pussy.

“Twenty…SEVEN!” You moan loudly and squirm, causing Haechan to smirk.

“Twenty…EIGHT!” The pulsing shaft feels sooo in your hand and inside you.

“TWENTY-NINE!”

Ahh, oh my god he's sexy!

“One more babe… Please, give it to me…”

The cock slides inside you one last time, deeper this time.

“Yes! Ahh, fuck! Thirty!”

This time, it never pulls back out. Haechan is spent. He tries to stretch his arms but can't.

“Thirty!” he echoes as his collapses on top of you. “Holy fuck babe, that really edged me on.”

You laugh and wrap your arms around him. He pants from exhaustion, though not the sexual kind. He's worked himself hard and deserves a reward.

“Hey,” you say and push on his shoulder. “You've still got twenty to go.”

“Babe, I can't…” Haechan's breaths are heavy and strained.

“Come on, twenty more thrusts.”

Haechan, still balls deep inside you, starts rocking his hips slowly.

“Thirty-one,” you say as a joke.

You can sense Haechan smiling as he buries his head in your neck.

“Thirty-two.”

He raises his ass a little higher and pushes down a little deeper.

“Thirty-three.”

You feel his lips stretch against your skin. “Babe, I don't think this counts.”

“Thirty-four.”

His slack and spent arms suddenly tighten against your sides.

“Thirty-five.”

You shut your eyes and let your hands glide down his spine.

“Thirty-six.”

Haechan picks up the pace, suddenly having found new energy.

“Thirty-seven.”

He gasps and you let out a moan.

“Thirty-eight.”

You wrap your legs tight around his thighs.

“Thirty-nine.”

His weight on you feels heavier, and his throbbing cock hits just the right spot.

“Fourty!”

Your words get louder as the sexual sensation radiates through your body.

“Fourty-one!”

The speed increases further, Haechan still panting heavily by your ear. His cock stretches your lips.

“Fourty-two!”

He gasps for air and takes a firm grip around your shoulder.

“Fourty-three!”

His cute ass is hard a rock when you squeeze it.

“Fourty-four!”

Haechan begins to moan and grimace, his skin feeling hot and flustered.

“FOURT-FIVE!”

He fucks you fast and passionately, yet soft and lazily as his body struggles to keep up.

“FOURTY-SIX!”

You stop counting out loud, as your orgasm culminates.

FOURTY-SEVEN!

Haechan too is so close now, about to explode inside you.

FOURTY-EIGHT!

Suddenly, it's like he's regained all his strength as he plants his palms on the floor beside you.

FOURTY-NINE!

His body shoots up as he stretches his arms, and the cock slides half way out of you.

“FIFTY!” you scream as you climax, and Haechan does one last, powerful push-up on top of you.

“Ahh, FIFTY!” he echoes, grunting as he rapidly pulls out of you.

He grabs his cock and sits on his knees between your legs, and grimace excessively when he strokes himself fast.

“Ahh,” he groans. “Ahh, ahh, fucking hot babe!”

He erupts in a powerful explosion.

“Babe, you did it!” you say merrily, when Haechan's cum shoots out onto your stomach.

Haechan's whole body is pink and plush. His chest and stomach moves rapidly in and out as he breathes. His dick is worn-out but satisfied, and he stops clutching his teeth and opens his mouth as he empties himself with his hand.

Your have a hand on your stomach and the other on Haechan's strong thigh. Cum drips onto your forearm, and as you come down from your orgasm you stare wide-eyed at the adorable, sexy man towering above you.

“Holy shit!” Haechan exclaims.

“Fuck babe, you're so good.”

Haechan grins, eyes closed and his chest still pumping.

“So are you.”

You spread the sperm around on your skin. “Motivation enough for you?” you ask and smile wide.

Haechan starts to calm down. “Yeah. I don't think it counts though.”

“No, probably not. But hey… You're better than Mark.”

Haechan giggles, and finally let's go of his cock. “What do you know?” he asks.

“He only made it to fourty-nine.”

[lvscoups]

just friends ; choi seungcheol x reader

summary choi seungcheol's been your best friend since elementary school, and now you're both eighteen, about to leave for university. the last thing that you want is to go to university as a virgin, so he offers to take your virginity. surely this won't make either of you question your feelings for each other, right? wc 5k tags slow burn, childhood best friends to lovers (somewhat), barb seungcheol, underage drinking/smoking, pwp, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, afab!reader, 18+ MINORS DNI

eighteen. what an age- when you were thirteen, you thought that by now you’d have a hot, popular boyfriend, have gone to hundreds of parties, have a huge friend group who would all go to the mall and travel together, and maybe even have a scholarship to harvard. but you started university in three months and you had nothing to show for it. it would keep you up at night, all the dreams you had when you were younger, and how few came true. you only had a couple of friends, a shitty job at a convenience store, and the last party you’d gone to was for your niece’s 8th birthday. what weighed on your mind the most, though, was that you still didn’t have a boyfriend- and you were still a virgin. university was your last shot to really live out those dreams, to go to parties, hook up with strangers, go clubbing.. but, god, the last thing you wanted was to lose your virginity to some random person you’d meet at a house party. but high school was over, and, really, what relationship could you establish with a man in a couple of months that would make him someone you’d want to lose your virginity to?

“seungcheol’s here for you!” your mom yelled from the kitchen. you came running to the front door with a smile on your face- he’s back from his vacation, fucking finally. “so we’re going to the beach?” you asked as soon as you saw him. “yeah, i think miles and his girl are coming, rosie is bringing some people too.” he smiled. “are you ready or are you gonna make me wait an hour again?” “the latter, i didn’t think you’d be coming so early.” he follows you to your room, sitting on the side of your bed as you pack. oh, choi seungcheol. your best friend since… sixth grade? you’ve watched him come and go through different relationships- he was someone you envied, living the guy version of the life you wanted for yourself. out of the handful of house parties you’d been to, he’d dragged you to almost all of them. you didn’t know what you’d do without him, he was always there for you, the one who introduced you to almost all of your friends, who would help you cheat on tests. without him, you’d be regretting your high school experience even more. “let’s go?” you pull your duffel bag over your shoulder, looking at him. “finally,”

he was one of the only people you knew who had his own car- his father got it for him for his seventeenth birthday. it wasn’t the best, but it was really nice. you were pretty sure it was a ford or something similar because it had one of those big open trunks people use to put wood and furniture in. no idea why he needed one of those, because he was always showing off how he was strong enough to carry anything by himself, but it was still cool. the two of you would put pillows and blankets in it and lay down, talking and drinking together, listening to music on your cheap bluetooth speaker. you got into his car, leaving your duffle bag at your feet, setting up your playlist and the aux while he started up the car. “i can’t believe you didn’t take me with you to the bahamas, you bitch.” you joked. “luggage costs are crazy, i already spend so much money on you,” he teased back. “it’s an hour drive to the beach, by the way.” “no problem,” after your playlist started up, the two of you drove in silence, partially. there was some small talk about the bahamas and a lot of you singing along to nicki minaj, who seungcheol always managed to sneak into the queue. “me and kim broke up,” seungcheol said during a particularly quiet song, his eyes still on the road. “and you didn’t tell me?” you replied, looking over at him with a shocked expression on your face. “yeah, i dunno. it just didn’t…” he trailed off. “it wasn’t a big deal to me.” “i liked her! remember when she gave you all those leftover cookies from… was it her church’s bake sale?” “yeah, i guess.” he stared off. “she was nice, i dunno why it didn’t affect me.” “god, remember when you broke up with sierra? that was fucking crazy.” you turned back, looking at the road, too. “sorry. why’d you…?” “it was her.” “shit, sorry.” “no, no, it’s fine, really. i lost interest and stopped talking to her as much and we called about it and decided to break it off.” “just like that?” “well not just like that. it wasn’t like i stopped talking to her all of a sudden.” he turned to you, smiling. “use your brain, dumbass.” “school is over, i don’t need to do that anymore.” you laughed. “but really, that’s crazy. i’m glad it’s not… bad, but, like, you two dated for a while.” “i wouldn’t say three months is that long,” he replied. “at least i’ll have a hot boy summer, or something. ewww, sorry. that was so bad.” “it was. but you’re right, have fun! emma’s single now, too. maybe you two can get together.” “i think i’m fine. i don’t know if i even want a girlfriend right now. maybe i’ll meet some hot twenty year old at uni. who knows.” he paused. “is emma really single?”

he turned onto a more bumpy, dirt road, and soon the sounds of the waves and music came closer and closer until the beach came into view. “parking’s gonna be a fucking nightmare.” he sighed, looking at the hundreds of cars parked throughout the parking lot. you picked up your phone, unplugging the aux cord to call rosie. “where is everybody?” you asked, putting the phone on speaker. “we’re near the playground and this barbeque thing. leia, where are we?” you could hear some people talking in the background. “leia’s sending a photo to you right now. bye!” “bye,” you hung up. “here, there’s a photo of the map… we’re at the entrance, right? we need to take a left until we see a washroom. can we stop at the washroom? i really need to pee.” “okay, be quick, though.”

after another half hour, you finally parked. “what did we bring?” you asked seungcheol as you both stepped out of the car. “just drinks and our swim stuff. don’t worry, just go ahead- i’ll carry everything.” you took your duffle bag and trudged through the sand- your cheap dollar store flip flops felt like they would break at any moment during the long journey, your heels burning every time they would touch even a bit of sand. “hey!” you called out, waving to everybody once you finally found them. “y/n!!” rosie replied, getting up and running to hug you, making you both fall on the ground. “ow, shit!” you exclaimed, getting up and laughing off the burning pain of the sand hitting your back. “sorry we took so long- cheol is on his way with everything. parking was crazy.” “can’t relate, we’ve all been here since six,” leia laughed. “miles and the other guys are in the water, we were gonna get lunch soon if you wanna come, though.” “i dunno, i think i might just settle in first. get comfy.” “totally fair, we can wait for you.” leia looked over to the water, where you could make out a bunch of guys swimming and splashing each other with water. “i don’t think the guys are getting out anytime soon, so don’t worry at all.” “thanks,” and then you heard seungcheol’s voice- well, his whine. “the sand…” he groaned, trudging towards you. when he finally reached you, he dropped the blue cooler and other bags down on the ground. “shit! that was torture…” “your fault for not asking for help.” you said, opening one of the bags and taking out a beach towel, laying it on the ground. “come on, sit down. tell the girls the news!” “what news?” rosie asked excitedly. “yeah what- oh,” seungcheol said. “it’s really not a big deal, y/n. me and kim broke up, that’s all.” “WHAT?” leia shouted. “tell me everything!” you got comfortable, sitting cross-legged under an umbrella while you listened to seungcheol recount everything.

“can someone help me with my sunscreen?” you asked. “rosie?” you turned onto your back and wiggled your shoulders. “no, you perv!” she laughed. you pouted jokingly before seungcheol approached you. “you can’t do anything by yourself, huh?” he teased, taking the bottle of sunscreen and opening it, putting some on your back and rubbing it in. “nevermind, seungcheol’s definitely the perv,” rosie replied. he laughed, and you closed your eyes, your head resting in your hands as you let the sun warm your body, waiting for seungcheol to finish. after a while, he hit your back gently a couple of times. “you’re welcome.” “thanks?” you replied, getting up. “let’s swim?” you asked the rest of the group. rosie and leia got up, taking off their sandals and flip-flops, agreeing immediately. “i’ll watch everybody’s stuff, since nobody else will.” seungcheol replied, sighing and crossing his arms dramatically. “thank you!!” you all called out to him as you ran off to the water.

the sun had set, and the air had gotten cooler. it was dark outside as you all laid together on the beach towels, the big, blue cooler seungcheol had brought now half empty. of course, seungcheol hadn’t drank a thing, despite his seemingly endless whining about just how bad he wanted to drink, how jealous he was of everyone who was drinking, how he wished you could drive.. it just went on and on. you hadn’t drunk, either, in forced solidarity with him. neither had miles’ girlfriend, bea, who was everyone else’s designated driver. you and seungcheol were lying down together, both wide awake from the chocolate starbucks doubleshot you’d shared an hour before. you both stared up at the sky. “it’s, like, two months until you leave.” seungcheol remarked. “a little less, right?” “yeah, but same thing. i can’t process it.” “i wish you’d been accepted. we could have gone together, rent a studio apartment. it’d look so cool. you’d have one side and it’d be, like, red or something, and mine would be… i dunno. it’d be cool.” “we should. maybe i’ll go online and move with you.” “that’d be so cool.” “i can’t imagine what it’ll be like without you.” “you can still call me. it’s not like i’m dying, stupid.” “yeah, but… you know.” “yeah,” silence. you shifted your attention somewhat to the conversation the rest of the people were having- something about how prom went, but you couldn’t really focus on it. “i’m leaving high school as a virgin.” you said, breaking the silence. “oh my god, you are. holy shit, that’s hilarious.” he started laughing. “i have no idea what i’m gonna do.” “what do you mean? you’re not gonna be the forty-year-old virgin or something. you’ll just lose your virginity to some college guy.” “i don’t really want that.” “don’t you wanna have fun in college? you mentioned that a lot.” “yeah, duh. but i don’t wanna lose my virginity to some random man.” “too late for you to not do that. you shoulda tried to get a boyfriend before high school ended.” “ugh, you don’t get it.” “what don’t i get?” “i dunno. this is weird.” more silence, but from the corner of your eye you saw him nod.

“what did you mean, about all of that stuff you were talking about earlier?” he asked on your way to the car. “what stuff?” “me not getting you wanting to lose your virginity or something. or not wanting to lose your virginity.” “oh.” you paused. “like, i dunno. i kinda wish i had a boyfriend or something. like i had had more of a life in high school. and now i have to just settle for losing my virginity to some guy i’ll probably never talk to again.” “isn’t that what you want?” “no, that’s what you don’t get. like i wanna have fun and, like, hook up with people or whatever. but i don’t wanna lose my virginity to a random person. that’s different.” “yeah, i get that.” “but, like, in a month and a half, you can’t really get a boyfriend. even if i did, i don’t wanna lose my virginity to someone i’ve known for less than two months.” “yeah.” you got in the car and waited as he started the engine. in the meantime, you set up the aux again. after a while, he broke the silence. “i can do it.” he said. “what?” “i’ll do it. if you want me to,” he added. “there’s so many weirdos out there. if they find out you’re a virgin they might, like, take advantage of you or something. we can do it, get it over with, you know?” you paused. it wasn’t a comfortable silence. “sorry. i don’t wanna overstep a boundary or anything.” he added, again. “no, no you didn’t. well you did but not in a weird way or anything. it’s just…” “yeah, i get it. i’m sorry.” “no, no, no. seriously, you’re fine. i’m not opposed to that idea or anything.” “yeah?” “yeah.. i mean, it’s better than what you said- losing my virginity to a weirdo or something.” “so then…?” “it’ll be weird, but let’s do it. i might change my mind but for now, let’s do it. yeah.”

you’d never thought of seungcheol in that way. maybe in your darkest, most desperate hours, but that was it. it wasn’t like you didn’t take notice to how huge his biceps were, or his fucking crazy jawline, or how perfectly everything on his face complimented each other, but.. you did that platonically. it would just be weird to do that. but now that the two of you had agreed to have sex together, you assumed nothing could be weirder than that. so you tried to will yourself to like him, or that’s what you told yourself. it wasn’t gonna be an enjoyable first time if you didn’t at least have some attraction to him, you thought. so you’d find yourself thinking about him a lot. at night, your mind would wander to his hands, his arms, and sometimes your fingers would brush against your clothed pussy, playing with it, imagining it was him. of course, it was all a part of your effort to have your ideal first time, at least, as ideal as it could be, considering it was with your best friend and not your imaginary boyfriend, and after high school had ended. you assumed sex was better when you were attracted to the person it was with, so it only made sense to create some attraction to him.

“have you ever.. thought about what you wanted?” the two of you were relaxing in the back of his car, where he’d put up pillows and blankets again. you’d brought some chips, and the two of you were drinking and eating, talking about whatever. “like, sexually?” you replied. “i guess. i mean for your first time.” “i don’t know. something romantic, in a bed, at night. i don’t wanna eat food first- i think that’s kinda gross. kissing someone after eating? ew..” “is that really it?” “yeah, i guess. i don’t really mind the rest.” “okay, okay.” he nodded. “i don’t wanna ask too many questions, it’s just… i wanna make sure that it’s special.” you blushed. “thank you,”

you’d arranged a date- the twelfth of august. you were leaving by the twentieth, so it seemed like a good time. it was the last day of july when you made the decision, and you found time flying by. seungcheol came over a lot more than he usually did, which was already a lot- he was your best friend, after all. as the twelfth grew closer and closer, you began to notice smaller things, like the way his eyes would linger on your chest and the flush that would appear on his face when you two were especially close. you pretended like you didn’t see it, the same way you assumed he pretended he didn’t see you looking at his arms a little too long when he crossed them. it was all a part of your shared, unspoken effort to make your first time more enjoyable, of course. the two of you were friends. just friends.

he’d invited you to the birthday party his family was having, but you didn’t feel like intruding on something like that, so instead you went to the party miles was throwing for him that night. bea picked you up in her car- you were nervous about the ride if you were being honest. it was the first time you’d ever driven in her car and you’d heard that she’d had to pay for the entire repair fee for her mom’s car after she got into a car accident. she swore that she’d learned her lesson but you would be lying if you said you weren’t scared out of your mind every time she took a turn. the party was small, with just your friend group and then some other friends, and then friends of friends. you stuck with leia, sitting beside her and listening to her talk about the date she’d gone on the day before. eventually, leia ran off with another guy, and you went to the front porch. two girls were sitting on the front chairs, and you took a cigarette they offered you. you weren’t a smoker, but you didn’t have anything else to do. you recognized the one who offered you the cig as bea’s sister- it was crazy how similar they looked. same hair, same nose, same lips, except she was at least five inches shorter than bea. after a while, seungcheol came out to the porch, too. you began to sing happy birthday to him, and the other girls joined in, too. after clapping, he asked you, “what’s up?” “huh?” “i was looking for you, i haven’t seen you this whole time. where were you?” “oh,” you paused, stubbing out your cigarette on the ashtray in between the two girls. “i was hanging out with leia, then i came here. i didn’t wanna be in your way, it’s your party.” “we’ve been friends six years, come on. you can’t be serious.” he moved away to another corner, out of earshot from the other girls. “come on,” he whispered. you followed him. “you’re friends with everyone else here, too. it’s kinda weird to just stick to your side the whole time. i don’t wanna seem like that kinda person.” “okay, fair, but i don’t think the people here think you’re like that. they all know you.” “okay, okay.” you said, holding his hand. “let’s go back, then.”

it was on the ninth, while you were at his house, eating leftover pizza and watching youtube, when he put his hand on your thigh. he was talking to you about a game he’d started playing, putting his pizza down so he could really tell you about it, and when the conversation drifted off into something else, his hand was still there. you knew if you did anything even slightly implying you were uncomfortable, he’d move it- seungcheol was always looking out for you. you let his hand rest there for a while until he had to get up to grab something. while he was gone, you thought to yourself about it. by the time he was back, you’d made up an excuse for everything- including an excuse for why you gently moved his hand back to the same spot it was before.

august eleventh, he came over. he was sitting on your floor, head resting against your bed, which you were lying down on. “you’re sure about tomorrow?” he asked. looking up at you. “yeah. why wouldn’t i be?” “i just wanna make sure.” he smiled. “no pressure at all.”

and then it was nine p.m., august twelfth. your parents were conveniently gone for the night, to a family friend’s house to celebrate something or other. you didn’t know and, honestly, you were so nervous that you didn’t really care. he knocked at your door and you nearly fell on your way there. “hi,” “hi.” he leaned against the doorframe slightly, smiling. “you’re sure?” “yeah.” you both made your way to your room, your face hot. “i’m sorry, i have no idea what to do… i thought we could watch a movie or something?” “yeah, of course.” he sat down on your bed. “don’t worry about it, really.” you sat down beside him, grabbing your laptop and opening up netflix. after you settled on a movie to watch, you both got comfortable and you hesitantly rest your head on his shoulder. to say it was awkward would be an understatement. it was petrifying. your palms were sweaty and your heart was racing and this was all before he even touched you. it was an hour into the movie when he put his hand on your thigh again. it was summer, so you were in shorts, which made the sensation all the more incredible, you felt his hand move up slowly until he was toying with the hem of your shorts. “can i take them off?” he whispered in your ear. “yeah,” you put the laptop down on the far edge of your bed, and he slid your shorts off, holding up your legs just slightly. you turned to look at him, and there was his face. maybe it was the adrenaline rush or maybe it was something more, but you closed your eyes and soon found your lips on his. you’d had your first kiss already, but this time it was different. you found yourself melting into the kiss, your hands in his hair his hands cupping your face, before you felt his hands moving and you shifted on top of him. he pulled away. “is this okay?” he asked. “yes,” you whispered, pulling him back into the kiss and letting him put his hands under your shirt. the sensation of his hands on your breasts left you feeling even more horny, grinding down onto his crotch. eventually, you pulled away, standing up on your knees and slowly sliding his jeans off of him. he took the opportunity to gently push you onto your back, getting on top of you. he kissed you one more time before slowly leaving kisses all over your body, moving from your face to behind your ear to your neck, sucking on your breast. “you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, his voice deeper than usual. he moved back to kissing you, and you felt his hands go under your underwear hem. you found yourself moaning into his kisses as he rubbed your clit, then slowly put one finger into you, his palm still on your clit as he inserted another. “you’re… really good,” you moaned, after a little while, he took his fingers out, and you still found your walls closing around nothing, “is it okay if i put it in?” he asked, his voice still low and husky. “mhm,” you looked up at him. maybe you were caught up in the moment, maybe it was the moonlight peeking from the sheer curtains on your bedroom window, or maybe it was something else entirely, something that wouldn’t go away when the sun came back up, but just the sight of him in the darkness, his long black hair just slightly obscuring his face as he looked up at you through his long lashes, made your eyes almost water. at that moment, all that you could think about was how lucky you were, how grateful you were to be in this situation, and how happy you were. “are you okay?” he breathed, snapping you back to reality. his brows furrowed, the lust in his eyes being replaced with concern. “y-yeah, i’m great.” you smiled, looking up at him. “just making sure.” he reached into the pockets of his now discarded pants, closing your laptop before grabbing a condom out of the pocket, opening the packaging, and putting it on. he held your hand as he positioned himself in between your legs, slowly sliding into you. “let me know if you’re uncomfortable.” he whispered. you closed your eyes, and the stretch of your walls hurt at first- but soon the pain turned into pleasure, the most pleasure you'd ever experienced.

you moaned as you leaned up to kiss him, using your free hand to bring him closer to you. he shifted a bit, suddenly thrusting into you at the perfect angle and leaving you a mess, moaning his name and when you weren’t, you could hear him moaning yours. it was such an intimate moment and the way he was fucking you was so perfect that you found yourself forgetting that he was your best friend. you were whispering praises to him, telling him how good he was and how big his cock was and all these things you would never have expected you’d be saying to choi seungcheol, but here you were. his thrusts got more sloppy and his kisses became more messy and passionate and you knew he was about to come. soon, you did too, and the sensation left your head blank. you felt him pull out of you and lay down beside you. “you want me to run you a bath?” he asked. “yeah,” you looked over at him. “thank you, cheol. that was…” “amazing? life-changing?” he joked. “mhm,” you kissed him. “i’m really glad we did that.” “yeah. come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

he left after making sure you were all good, kissing you one more time before going. you didn’t think much of anything that night, but when you woke up your mind was racing- that was after you were able to confirm that the night you just had wasn’t a dream. you assumed seungcheol’s mind was racing, too, because aside from sending you some tiktoks and occasionally talking to you about something or other, it was radio silence from him. you were torn about it- on one hand, you were massively grateful. you knew it’d be awkward to talk to him after everything. but on the other hand, you were almost hurt. it was definitely irrational, and you knew that, but you almost felt like he didn’t talk to you because he didn’t like you after the two of you had sex or, worse, he had just been using you. then he called you, three days after everything. “hello?” “hey,” he said. “sorry for not talking to you for a while.” “yeah,” “i needed some time to think about things. it’s not like you did anything wrong though. i still need time, i’m calling to tell you that this has nothing to do with you,” he paused. “really, you were incredible, and that was one of the best moments of my life. and i don’t want to stop talking to you. i just need some time to myself for a bit.” “thank you,” you blushed. “but… yeah, that’s fine. don’t worry about it. but don’t take all the time you need. i leave in, like, five days.” you laughed, though there wasn’t anything funny. “yeah,” he replied, his voice somewhat… sad? you couldn’t really pinpoint what it was. “you gotta promise me that we’ll hang out at least once before then, ‘kay?” “okay,” he paused. “i gotta go, though.” “bye,” “see you,” he said before hanging up.

the phone call left you frustrated for the next few days, which only worsened how sad you felt to be leaving your home and your town. rosie and leia were constantly coming over, but, as much as you loved them, it wasn't the same as hanging out with seungcheol.

you'd been invited to leia's house on the nineteenth, to watch a movie or something. she drove you there, suspiciously giddy with excitement, and once you arrived at her house, you realized there was something more going on. she opened the door for you, and instead of being greeted by her parents and nobody else, you were greeted by a whole crowd of people. somehow, leia and rosie had managed to gather everybody for a surprise going-away party- even your cousin was there. you made your way through the crowd, talking to everybody, so happy from seeing all these people you loved and had spent your teenage years with that you forgot about everything with seungcheol entirely. in fact, you forgot about everything with him throughout most of the night. but then you found him, sitting alone and playing some game on his phone, and he looked up and saw you, and you immediately knew something was up. "can i talk to you?"

he took you to a bedroom and closed the door behind you. "i wanted to tell you something." he said. the two of you sat side by side on the edge of the bed. "i know it's really late to tell you this, but i figured because you're leaving tomorrow this is… my last chance to tell you." he paused. "i don't think it was just because of that night and i don't want you to think that, either. it's also not because of kim, even though the timing would make you think that… i was really thinking about this, and i think… i don't know how to say this, but…" you looked at him and he looked at you and suddenly it all clicked in your head. every little thing you made some stupid excuse for, like how you could only think about him when you touched yourself, or how you couldn't pull your eyes away from his crazy huge arms, or how your heart fluttered when you both made eye contact. it all made sense to you know. "i love you too, cheol."

[mamaestapa]

Daddy Issues|| Joe Burrow x reader (Series Masterlist)

•summary: Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

•warnings: SMUT, partying, alcohol, mature language, unprotected sex, pregnancy, angst, fluff, labor/child-birth, babies, probably more tbh

•chapters: 22/40

IMPORTANT NOTE!

this is MY story from wattpad!! i’m transferring it over to tumblr and re-writing it as a Joe x reader instead of the Jared Goff x OC that it is on my wattpad account.

chapters:

chapter one

•chapter summary: Your brother Sam stops by your apartment to invite you to Zac Taylor’s annual Christmas party, will you accept his invitation?

chapter two

•chapter summary: You attend the Bengals Christmas party and have a little too much fun. One thing leads to another and you find yourself in a steamy situation with the teams beloved quarterback…(CONTAINS SMUT!)

chapter three

•chapter summary: You wake up beside your brothers best friend and wonder what happened the night before. While you’re at Joe’s, you get a call from Sam saying he’s going to be at your place soon…can you keep Joe a secret from Sam?

chapter four

•chapter summary: A couple weeks have gone by and the holidays are over. You go back to work and find yourself suddenly coming down with a sickness

chapter five

•chapter summary: A couple weeks have passed and you’re still feeling under the weather. You decide to take a test and the results leave you questioning everything…

chapter six

•chapter summary: The time comes for you to tell Joe some of the most life-changing news he’ll ever receive. However, his reaction isn’t exactly what you were hoping for

chapter seven

•chapter summary: It’s AFC championship day!you talk to Joe for the first time since you broke the news to him and you discover a sweet surprise

chapter eight

•chapter summary: You have your first ultrasound and you share some sweet moments with Joe. As the day ends you make plans to tell your friends (and brother) about the baby

chapter nine

•chapter summary: You and Joe break the news to Sam and your friends that you’re having a baby together. As you share the news with Sam, some past news comes to light and changes everything

chapter ten

•chapter summary: You and Joe find out the gender of your baby! It's a day full of happiness, emotions, and drama...

chapter eleven

•chapter summary: You and Joe take an important step to make sure your baby will always have both parents present. Soak in the sweet moments before the angst begins…

chapter twelve

•chapter summary: There's some drama during Emma's baby shower that leaves you in a worrisome situation at the end of the day...

chapter thirteen

•chapter summary: You and Joe experience one of the most emotional evenings of your lives…

chapter fourteen

•chapter summary: A lot happens while Joe is in Louisiana for the LSU spring game, that leaves both questioning everything

chapter fifteen

•chapter summary: You and Joe both experience y heartbreak like no other after the events of Joe’s time in Louisiana for the LSU spring game…

chapter sixteen

•chapter summary: It’s the day of your OB appointment and you decide whether or not to hear our and forgive Joe for the past couple of days (CONTAINS SMUT!)

chapter seventeen

•chapter summary: As you spend the morning with Joe, the two of you talk about the past couple days and look back on your first few memories with each other

chapter eighteen

•chapter summary: Pregnancy cravings hit you late at night, and Joe takes the opportunity to help satisfy your cravings and tell you something that’s been on his mind for months

chapter nineteen

•chapter summary: You and Joe finally go on your first date. The night goes extremely well, until you receive an unexpected text from someone you haven't heard from in a while…

chapter twenty

•chapter summary: Sam pours his heart out to you and Joe, hoping you two will forgive him and his behavior from the past six months...

chapter twenty-one

• chapter summary: You and Joe decide on a name for your baby boy

chapter twenty-two

•chapter summary: Joe shares his nursery ideas with you and the two of you attend a team dinner you'll never forget...

chapter twenty-three

• chapter summary: The Bengals team dinner turns into a complete disaster after an encounter Joe has at the restaurant

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Eighteen

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Violence. A lot more violence than usual. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.3k

A/N : if you haven't already voted for what you want to see me write next, you've got a day and a half left

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eighteen

It felt like the world was unravelling around him, like he was coming apart at the seams. While he’d said the words hours ago, it wasn’t until that moment that he started to feel the weight of them. He loved you. He loved you in a way that he’d never allowed himself to love anyone else. He loved you in a way that was so deep, so visceral that if he lost you, he knew he’d never recovered. 

You were inexorably linked, two halves of one soul. You were everything to him and Billy knew he couldn’t go back to the empty, bleak life he’d been living, no matter how many times he’d tried to convince himself overwise over the last couple of months.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, running a red light to get to Krista’s building. Frank and Madani were talking but, to Billy, it all just sounded like static in his ears.

He couldn’t lose you.

He wouldn’t.

Pulling up, he killed the engine and before anyone could think to speak or question, he was out of the car, clearing the steps to the building two at a time. Frank and Madani had to rush to keep up with him, each still talking, calling after him. But Billy didn’t care about waiting, about figuring out ‘what to do’. No, Billy knew what he was going to do; he was going to make Krista talk, he was going to make her understand why fucking with you had been the worst decision of her life

It was a blur and, for a few minutes he lost himself; he kicked the door open and the next thing he knew, he had his hands around her throat, with Frank yelling at him to calm down.

“Where is she?” The voice that left his lips wasn’t quite his own.

“Gone. I don’t know where,” Krista answered, grinning despite the grip he had on her. “You’ll never find her. Just like you never found Mary.”

Somehow Frank managed to wrench Billy away but Krista didn’t even try to escape. She was enjoying the scene playing out before her, she was taking pleasure in his pain, glad that she’d had some small part in causing it.

“Mary?” It was Madani who spoke, gun drawn, stepping forwards. “Mary Poots?”

“Poor little Mary,” Krista said in a sing-song tone, barely holding back a laugh. “You thought you could replace me with someone so... fragile...”

“You killed Mary Poots?” Madani tried to continue her line of questioning despite the fact that Krista’s attention was fully on Billy.

“Now you’re going to lose the new one,” Krista carried on, all eyes on her. “I’ll take the next one, too. And the one after that. All of them. Every last one, until I’m all you have left.”

“You’re fucking insane,” Billy spat and that drew a laugh from Krista.

“If I am, it’s because of you, because you infected me...” she laughed again. “Or, no, I suppose it was Layla... not that it matters. You fuck up everything you touch, don’t you, Billy?”

“Just tell me where she is!” Billy demanded.

He lunged towards her, but Frank was too quick, too strong, wrapping an arm around him and holding Billy back.

“I don’t know,” she answered, still smiling, seemingly unbothered. “I never asked and he never told. You shouldn’t worry, I’m sure she’ll make a beautiful bride. Her fiance was so happy to finally have her back.”

Billy snapped and snarled, struggling against Frank and against himself, his last shred of control quickly starting to split and fray. He wanted to kill her, wanted to do what he knew he should have done months ago.

“She’s not worth it, Bill,” Frank told him, trying to pull him away.

“You’ve just confessed to murder in front of a Federal Agent,” Madani finally piped up, earning a laugh from Krista, before her attention shifted to Frank and Billy. “If Justin Drake has her and they’re still in the city, we’ll be able to track her down.”

“And what if she’s not still in the city?” Billy snapped. “There’s only a few hours until dawn...”

“We’re going to find her,” Madani answered, her tone sharpening to match his.

“And what about her?” Frank dared to ask, drawing all eyes back to Krista.

“I can send someone to pick her up.”

Krista finally moved, attempting to bolt for the door but, somehow, Billy managed to wrench free of Frank’s grip and lunged for her, knocking into her so hard that they both fell to the ground.

She ripped and tore at him with her nails, sinking her fangs into his shoulder and not letting go until his elbow connected with her face. They rolled, Billy ending up on top before she caught him across the face, clawing at him. She rolled him, straddling him as she landed another hit across his face while Billy’s hands gripped her throat.

By the time Frank pulled her away, they were both bloody and bruised, each bearing the marks of each other’s hatred. She kicked and screamed against Frank’s grip as he pushed her face first into the wall, pinning her there while Madani cuffed her to a radiator.

“You think that’s gonna hold her?” Frank asked, eying Krista as she dropped to the ground.

“It’s all we can do for now,” Madani answered. “We need to move.”

“She needs to die,” Billy snarled.

It felt like his body was vibrating with rage, like the thing inside of him had finally won. But, before he could move, Frank was on him, forcing him backwards, hands shoving him so hard that he knocked the breath from Billy’s lungs.

“You wanna waste time on her while your girl’s out there? You wanna throw her life away and yours just so you can settle a score with this crazy bitch?” He barked in Billy’s face, shoving him again. Billy didn’t have an answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now fucking move, this guy isn’t gonna find himself.”

------------

It felt like the world had tilted on its axis and gripping the edge of the table was all you could do to keep yourself from falling. It had never made sense why he wanted you, why he’d been so adamant; you weren’t anything special, you weren’t worth anything (certainly not when compared to the amount of money your parents owed him). But, now you finally had answers, it made even less sense.

He was doing this because you looked like a distant relative who you shared only a fraction of your DNA with. 

He was doing this because she had denied him, just like you were trying to deny him.

He wanted you to be a vampire, to spend an eternity at his side.

“No.” The word fell from your mouth with a certainty that you didn’t feel.

“You don’t have a choice,” he retorted, already sounding like he was done with your denials and insolence.

“Yes, I do,” you answered back, remembering all the times Billy had told you as much.

You hadn’t believed it at the time, you’d thought that it was just a line, something he was telling you to make you feel better but, now, faced with someone who wanted to remove your choice, your agency, you realised that Billy had been right all along. Lifting your head and sitting a little straighter, you silently promised yourself that you weren’t going to cower before him, you weren’t going to let this sorry excuse for a man decide your future.

“You can do what you want to me. I’ll never be yours,” you told him. “Even if it takes my whole life, I’ll do everything I can to escape you.”

“I don’t know what you think you can -”

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” you interrupted, not letting him get the upper hand, not letting him treat you like the naive child you had been when you last sat across from him. “You will never get what you want from me.”

Anger flickered across his face and it took him more than a few seconds to tamp it down again. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting such resistance from you.

But then came the laugh, a sound that caused dread to coil in your stomach.

“Like I told you; I’m a patient man and I have an eternity to bend you to my will,” he sai, his voice softer than his expression. “There might be nothing I can do to you anymore, but I already told you that your sister, her children...”

“You won’t hurt them.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because you’ll lose your leverage over me if you do,” you answered, trying to hide the discomfort in your voice, hating that you were gambling with your sister’s safety. “And if you think I’m being difficult now, you’ve got no idea how much worse I can be.”  

Drake let out another callous huff of laughter, a twisted smile pulling at his lips.

“You’re right, but there are other ways to hurt you, aren’t there? Other people close to your heart...” he trailed off for a moment, letting his words sink in. “What about William Russo or his little human friend? Karen is it?”

As much as you wanted to remain defiant, the thought of anything happening to Billy made you feel sick to your stomach. You couldn’t let anything happen to him. You wouldn’t. 

Before you realised you were doing it, your hand was gripping the knife in front of you. 

It took him by surprise when you lunged across the table, aiming the blunt knife towards his chest despite knowing that it wouldn’t be enough to kill him. You didn’t care. The outcome of this didn’t matter; either he would die or you would. Either way, Billy would be safe.

Plates and glasses smashed as you half-fell over the table, tipping his chair back and knocking him to the floor, you on top of him.

His fingers gripped your wrist, stopping you as you tried to bring the knife down, holding the tip only a few inches from his chest.

There was noise all around you and it wasn’t until some time later that you realised it was you, that you were screaming, telling him you were going to kill him, that you wouldn’t stop until he was dead.

The struggle felt like it lasted a lifetime when, in reality, a few seconds after you’d cleared the table, one of his goons had arrived and pulled you off him. Kicking and screaming, you were carried back to your room and thrown inside.

You landed with an awkward thud, pain radiating up your bad arm despite the cast. But, seconds later, you were back on your feet, banging against the door, trying to get out, only to find that you were locked in. But that didn’t stop you from continuing to kick and scream at the door, telling him that you were going to kill him, that the only way he’d stop you was by killing you.

------------

After they’d left Josie’s, Frank had text Karen to let her know what was going on and where they were headed. She decided to stick around and keep asking questions around the bar, making sure that nothing had been missed but, after half an hour or so, she decided to call it a night and head home.

She left with your suitcase, having stuffed Bill the Beagle back inside, rolling it along the sidewalk behind her. Her apartment was only a couple of blocks away and, despite the late hour, she’d never felt particularly unsafe walking home from Josie’s.

“Hey, uh, excuse me Miss?” A voice rang out.

Not thinking, Karen stopped and turned, seeing a large man dressed in a dark suit heading towards her.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked, finally noticing the limo parked in front of Josie’s.

It couldn’t be a coincidence; Josie’s wasn’t the sort of place anyone would want to leave a limousine, especially not twice in one night. Karen took a step back, realisation causing her blood to turn ice cold in her veins.

“Yeah, I think that suitcase belongs to a friend of mine,” he answered, slowly stepping towards her. 

The moment he started to move, Karen reached into her purse, trying to find her gun but not taking her eyes off of him for even a second.

“Funny,” she answered, “because this case happens to belong to a friend of mine.” 

Gun in hand, she lifted it, pointing it straight at him, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. She couldn’t be sure if he was a vampire or not, but she wasn’t going to take any chances, and aimed the gun at his chest. It might not kill him, but it would definitely slow him down.

“Where is she?” Karen demanded.

“It’s none of your concern,” he answered back, daring to take the slightest step but hesitating  again when Karen lifted the gun a little higher, aiming for his heart.

“I said, where is she?” She repeated, taking a step of her own.

“She’s with her fiance and if I were you, I’d just hand over the case.”

Karen opened her mouth about to refuse again when he moved, clearing the distance between them with a supernatural speed, knocking the gun from her grasp and into the road. As she moved to grab the suitcase, he struck her with the back of his hand, knocking her off balance and sending her to the pavement.

Karen scrambled for the gun but, by the time she had it, he was almost back at the limo, throwing the case into the passenger side before moving around to the driver's door.

As he started up the engine, Karen noticed a taxi and quickly tried to flag it down. When it didn’t stop, she stepped out into the street in front of it, making it stop for her.

“Follow that limo,” she told the driver as she climbed into the back.

“Listen, lady, I -” the driver started to refuse.

“No, you listen, the piece of shit that owns that limo has kidnapped a friend of mine and I have a gun, so you can either follow that limo and get paid at the end of this, or I’m going to have to take your taxi.”

The threat hung in the air for a few seconds. She could see the driver wearily eyeing her in the rearview, no doubt taking note of the gun in her lap and her split lip.

“Alright, fine, just don’t go doin’ anything crazy,” he muttered before starting after the limo.

------------

They were barely outside of Krista’s building when Frank got the call. Billy watched as his friend's expression dropped from one of calm control to absolute rage in less than five seconds. He’d been busy listening to Madani, to all the measures she was putting in place to try and track you down; tracking the limo, credit cards, checking hotel guest lists. It only vaguely occurred to him that it wasn’t until then that he heard your so-called fiance’s name for the first time tonight.

Justin Drake.

Not that it mattered what his name was; he’d be a dead man the moment Billy got his hands on him.

But, for a few seconds, all of that stopped mattering and his attention was fixed on Frank.

“Are you okay?” he demanded of the person on the other end of the call. “Did he hurt you?” There was a pause for an answer that Billy couldn’t quite make out over the sound of traffic. “Where are you? No - no, stay outside and wait for us. We’ll be there in five minutes.”

“What’s going on?” Billy asked the moment Frank ended the call.

“He sent one of his goons after the suitcase. Karen followed him back to the Park View hotel, she thinks that’s where he’s got her.” Frank explained.

A second later Madani was relaying that information on her call, but Billy was already moving for the car, and Frank was quick to follow.

“Wait, I can get back up and -” Madani started, falling into step behind the men.

“We ain’t waiting,” Frank answered.This time it was his turn to be angry. They’d gone near Karen and, now, it was personal for him. 

The conversation continued as they got in the car and carried on until they arrived at the hotel; Madani wanted to wait for back-up. Billy and Frank didn’t. It was that simple. They weren’t going to wait.

“You can help us, or you can stay here,” Frank told her, though his attention was immediately focused on Karen the moment he saw her, his blood starting to boil at the sight of her split lip. “We’re killin’ this fucker.”

“Yeah we are,” Billy responded.

Frank gave Karen some quick instructions, telling her to go wait in the car and to stay out of the way. He tried to tell Madani to wait with her but the Homeland Agent refused, trying one last time to convince them to just wait a few more minutes for back-up to arrive. Before she could even finish, Billy was moving past her and heading for the hotel’s entrance.

He moved through the lobby, drawing stares from everyone that looked his way; blood from the wounds that Krista had inflicted was still fresh on his clothes and he looked as if he’d just torn someone apart with his bare hands.

By the time he reached the front desk, there were already two members of the hotel security team standing there.

“I’m Agent Madani with Homeland Security,” she spoke before anyone else had the chance, and before Billy had the opportunity to do anything stupid. “You have a Justin Drake staying here, I need access to his rooms, now.” 

“I can’t just -” the receptionist started to answer.

“He has a woman with him up there, doesn’t he?” Madani asked, stepping up to the desk. “A woman that turned up earlier tonight?”

Billy took a step forward, getting ready to take matters into his own hands.

“I can’t reveal -” the receptionist tried again.

“He kidnapped her,” Billy snapped, “and he’s planning on hurting her. So you can either let us in peacefully, or we can make you.”

The security guards moved closer but then, at the sight of Frank stepping forwards, they seemed to shy away.

“We can wait for a warrant, or you can let us in now. Either way, if anything happens, it’ll be on you,” Madani explained. “Call Homeland - hell, call the cops, the FBI, whoever you want. Have us arrested when we’re done. But if anything happens, her blood will be on your hands.”

“And we’ve got Karen Page from The Bulletin sittin’ outside waitin’ for her friend to come out, so I suggest if you don’t wanna be named as complicit in this...” Frank let the threat go unfinished.

The receptionist had turned snow white, her hands trembling as she handed over a keycard and directed them to the elevator. The two hotel security members followed after.

------------

You heard the commotion before everything went to hell.

There was a phone call; from what you could gather they had a friend in the FBI who’d gotten wind of a Homeland investigation, and there was about to be a raid on the hotel. They needed to get out of there, as quickly as they could.

“Come on,” he demanded, holding out his hand to you.

“No.”

“I’ve had enough of your games,” he muttered, his voice changing, turning softer. “Now, come with me.”

When he held out his hand again, you took a step towards him, wanting to do exactly as he said.

“N-no,” you said, shaking your head, trying to block him out, trying not to let him sway you.

“Come on, come with me. Right now,” he tried again.

Again you took a step, then another. Something inside of you told you to stop, to fight him, but you couldn’t. All you wanted to do was go with him.

“That’s it, come along and -”

“Boss, they’re in the elevator!”

The sudden disruption was enough to snap you out of it. You stepped back, reestablishing the space between you. You weren’t going to make this easy for him. 

“Told you I’d never be yours,” you muttered defiantly, triumphantly.

You both knew that there was no way that Drake was going to get out of this, at least not with you at his side. He’d have to let you go if he wanted to escape.

But you realised all too late what letting go looked like to Justin Drake.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” He asked, starting towards you. “I would have given you everything if only you’d chosen not to act like a tempermental whore. But it’s really no bother. I’m sure when your niece is old enough she’ll be far more amenable, far more grateful for what I have to offer.” 

You stepped back as he closed the distance, until you found yourself against the window.

“At least I get to have one last taste,” he muttered darkly.

“No!” 

Your arms shot out, trying to push him away, trying to keep him from biting you. But he was bigger than you and infinitely stronger. He pushed you back, held you in place despite your thrashing and screaming. You tried everything you could to stop him from pressing closer and closer, trying to turn away as he bowed his head towards your neck.

“Not so defiant now, are you?”

“Please, no - no!” You screamed and begged, tears streaming down your face.

He bit down. Hard. 

Fangs tore through flesh, but rather than lingering to feed, he pulled back, his lips and chin dripping dark with your blood.

It took a moment for you to realise that blood was slowly filling your throat, that he’d left you with more than just a puncture wound.

Your hand lifted as he pulled back and started to walk away, feeling the wound he’d left and the way blood was spurting from it. Lightheadedness quickly over took and you found yourself sliding down the glass and onto the floor. Desperately you reached for the hoodie you’d discarded on the floor when you’d changed for dinner, pressing it against the wound, hoping you’d survive long enough to see Billy one last time.

You weren’t sure what was happening, but you heard gunshots and shouting. Then someone was at your side, her hand holding the hoodie tighter against your wounds and shouting for Billy. 

Madani.

(What was Madani doing there?)

“Hold on, help’s on the way,” she told you, but the words barely registered.

You had so many questions but it seemed too late to try and ask them.

But finally - finally  - Billy was at your side. Dropping to his knees, his eyes filling with tears at the sight of you.

“B-Billy,” you managed to choke out despite the blood filling your mouth and lungs, “you’re h-here...”

You felt him squeezing your hand, holding you so tight, like he never wanted to let you go. There were tears in his eyes as he looked down at you and you knew exactly what they meant; you were dying. In your efforts to save him the pain of watching you die, you’d brought it about decades early.

“I told you,” he muttered softly, “I’ll never let you go.”

Madani continued to press the cloth against your wound but you could tell from Billy’s face that it wasn’t helping.

“S-sorry,” you tried to mutter, wishing that you had more time, wishing that you could apologise properly.

“Don’t,” he told you, “don’t try to talk. Just - just stay still, stay with me, it’s going to be alright.”

“I l-love -” you couldn’t finish, there was too much blood and you were starting to feel so cold, so tired.

“Hey - hey, hummingbird, keep your eyes on me. It’s going to be okay,” Billy told you, but his voice sounded so far away. 

You struggled to hold his gaze, some part of you glad that you’d gotten to see him one last time, but the rest of you hated the agony on his face and the tears streaking down his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” he told you, squeezing your hand tighter, like he was trying to hold you in this life and not let you slip away. “I love you and - and I’m sorry, I know you’ll hate me but...”

The rest faded into the sound of your own panic, some part of you knowing what he was trying to tell you, knowing what he wanted to do. You tried to shake your head, tried to pull at his hand but you were so weak you could barely move. 

You were so far gone that you didn’t hear him screaming and pleading with Frank, nor did you hear Frank’s initial refusal and Billy’s threat to do it himself. 

Your eyes went wide when Frank loomed over you, looking at you for a moment, an unspoken apology colouring his features. You tried to speak, trying to say something - though, confronted with your own death, even you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. But you felt Billy’s hand squeezing yours and some piece of you wanted to hold on, wanted to have his hand in yours for longer than this moment, longer than the six months that you’d had together. 

You wanted him.

You wanted the man you loved.

(It wasn’t fair. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to leave him.)

But it was too late. Your eyes fell shut and you let out a gurgled breath, and the last thing you heard was Billy’s shouts.

End Note : So, yeah... I have a lot of feelings about this chapter. I know it jumps around and I'm not the greatest at action sequences (I'm working on it). And I know people won't like the ending and so on, but I'm having fun. I'm not sure if next week will be the last part now or if I'll have an epilogue the week after to tie up loose ends. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and it wasn't a let down! Also I'm sorry if any typos slipped through, I lost a night of writing to go see Deadpool last night..

As ever, thank you so much for your support/reading/liking/reblogging/screaming at me in the comments! Have a great weekend!!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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[celtigxr]

- - - - - The Pink Dread Master List

Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size!Celtigar!OfC Slow Burn - Friends to Enemies to Lovers

Summary: Theres so much bad blood between these two, but there is also longing... for what they used to have, for what might have been, had it not been for Aemond's betrayal.

Alternatively: First loves. Heartbreaks. Betrayals. Jealousy. Revenge. And repeat. The feud between former friends, Aemond and Valeana, sends a shockwave of social chaos for the Seven Realms as all gather to King's Landing for the Royal Conclave. A season of peace, intended to forge alliances through courtships and marriages, only for it to become a war of a different kind.

Cross Posted with AO3

Mindful of tags of TW below

Please reply if you want to be added to the tag list

Disclaimer: AI is not used in the writing of this story. It is primarily used to generate images when needed (for dresses, mostly), and to help with unique bard like songs, since I am terrible at writing songs and poems. Other than that, rest assured every word is written by me. I will clarify in each chapter when AI is being used and what for.

General Tags: MDNI, AemonxValeana end game, other ships, AFAB, PlusSize!OFC, Celtigar!OFC, Disabeled!OFC, Jealous!Aemond, Angry!Aemond, Healthy!Viserys, Enemies to Lovers, Aged Up characters, Fix It AU, The Dragons Do Not Dance, Eventual Smut, Redemption Arc for Aegon, Slight AegonxOFC, Slow Burn, pining, longing, angst. More may be added along the way. Genre: +18/MDNI, Romantic Comedy, Angst, Young Adult Drama, if Bridgerton had dragons. TW/CW: The story will contain realistic mental health themes. To avoid tumblr taking this post down, they will be coded:

Things such as E. D." Unalive Ideations, B0dy Dysm0rph!a, Blatant Fatph0bia, P T S D, descriptive trigger-induced anxiety attack due to P T S D, and a brief S A (By all definitions, it is, but... You'll see).

Other tw: Typical themes you find in the asoiaf universe. TW will be posted for individual chapters as we go. More may be added here.

Author's Note: Val and Aemond are end game in this, but the other ships are a surprise. I've got spreadsheets n shit.

Credits: Story cover made by me, divider found on pngtree

Prologue: With Friends Like These Chapter One: Return of the Crabs Chapter Two: Familiar Strangers Chapter Three: A King's Command Chapter Four: Unforgiven Chapter Five: Aegon's Doom Chapter Six: Aegon's Delight Chapter Seven: O, Brother Chapter Eight: Still Falling For You Chapter Nine: Protector Chapter Ten: What a Pity Chapter Eleven: Peace of Mind Chapter Twelve: High Horse Chapter Thirteen: Girl's Night Chapter Fourteen: The Will of Man (September 30th) Chapter Fifteen: Restless (October 4th) Chapter Sixteen: Eggs & Bacon (October 9th) Chapter Seventeen: The Daring (TBA) Chapter Eighteen: Hydrangeas (TBA) Chapter Nineteen: Pyres & Proposals (TBA) Chapter Twenty: Family Matters (TBA) Chapter Twenty-One: Green & Black (TBA) Chapter Twenty-Two: Maiden's Day (TBA) Chapter Twenty-Three: A Clash of Princes (TBA) Chapter Twenty-Four: The Black Dread (TBA) Chapter Twenty-Five: You Know Nothing (TBA) Chapter Twenty-Six: ( to be written ) More chapters to come...

Please do not re-post, redistribute, or plagiarize my stories. I have no problems being a Karen and reporting immediately upon discovery without warning. All rights reserved for GRRM, the creator for this universe and characters, and HBO.

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, aka, SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun, aka, sgsss... Part twenty-eight

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven,

Warning for vomiting in this one.

-

Sephiroth can barely keep to his feet as Angeal walks him to the elevator. Angeal has never seen him like this, and it worries him. It doesn't seem normal, even in terms of usual SOLDIER side effects. He itches to ask what did Hojo do to the man… but this is not the time.

He'd never been so aware of the fact that Sephiroth is younger than him and Genesis. He never looks or acts like it, if anything, he acts older than he is. Usually.

The SOLDIER milling about in the hallway part for them, but not happily - and Angeal is also aware what it must look like from their perspective. In order to hide the fact that Sephiroth can't keep his balance, Angeal has to keep a pretty firm grip on his right arm - and he's carrying Masamune for Sephiroth too. It must look like he has his fellow First somehow detained.

"At ease," Angeal tells them, and it puts precisely none of them at ease.

"Um, sir," one of them says. "Where are you, uh… assigned? Next?" He's looking at Sephiroth.

If Angeal didn't already suspect that Sephiroth attacked none of them, this would've put an end to that fear. Though Sephiroth is considered an intimidating figure, none of these men look at all scared of him. If anything, they look scared for him.

Sephiroth clears his throat, his arm in Angeal's grip tensing. "I'm headed to Wutai," he says then. "Apparently."

A reaction runs through the SOLDIERs, and some of them exchange pointed looks. Some look worried, hesitant - others look determined.

"Good luck, sir," one of them says bravely.

"We'll meet you there," another says, more bold than brave.

Sephiroth looks at the speaker and then lets out a quiet, "Hmph," and reaches out to pat the man's hair with his free hand. "I'll be waiting."

Angeal arches his brows, and SOLDIER Third Class being petted gapes in shock. Sephiroth chuckles and gives the man's hair a little ruffle before his hand falls.

Sephiroth… must still be out of it. They better take the short way to the airport.

"Come on," Angeal says, clearing his throat loudly. "We're going to be late."

Sephiroth hums, and with the SOLDIERs around them throwing little farewells and good luck wishes, Angeal drags his fellow First to the elevator, hitting up. They'd have to get through the office floors on foot, but thankfully the stairwell is relatively private. Much less so than the lobby. Hopefully they wouldn't see anyone.

"Sephiroth," Angeal says, adjusting his hold on Sephiroth's right elbow while the man sways against him. "What happened?"

"Mn," Sephiroth hums, hanging his head. "Before or after I destroyed the training room?"

"Ah, before?"

Sephiroth is quiet for a moment. "I trained. I - tried to - hmm," he stops, looking unhappy. "I was trying to work through something. And I was interrupted. It… threw me off."

"Badly enough that you tried to kill Professor Hojo?"

Sephiroth blinks and lifts his head. It looks like it takes effort. "I tried to kill Hojo?"

"That's what they told me."

"Oh. That was him? I don't - I wasn't thinking clearly," Sephiroth mutters and runs his free hand down his face. "What a way to empathise with Liu-shidi."

"Who?"

"... No one," Sephiroth sighs and lets his head hang again. "Ah, I feel like shit."

Angeal hums sympathetically. "You look like it too. When was the last time you drank something?"

"Depends on what time it is?" Sephiroth groans and Angeal tells him. "Ah. Then it was five hours ago."

And Sephiroth had been exercising, then had a breakdown and has been doing who knows what. "We'll get you an energy drink before we set off," Angeal promises and gives him a look. "You know, you don't usually train in the virtual training room. Not unless Genesis drags you, and even then it had better be late."

Sephiroth snorts. "I wonder why," he mutters and then lets out a little urp noise and clasps his left hand over his mouth. He looks very pale, and there are beads of sweat on his temple.

"Hang on, we're almost there," Angeal says urgently and looks up at the floor numbers scrolling by. "Just a few more -"

Just as he says it, the elevator comes to a halt - on floor 66. The upper science floor.

Angeal feels a terrible sense of foreboding as the door opens - and Professor Hojo stands beyond it, flanked by two infantry troopers and shadowed by four laboratory technicians.

"Ah, Sephiroth," the professor says, hand on the elevator button, sounding somewhere between smug and pissed off. "There you are."

"Professor," Angeal says, wary, wondering if this is what the Turk meant. "Apologies - we're on our way to assignment -"

"You have arrived, congratulations," Hojo says impatiently. "Come right this way - laboratory one."

"I'm afraid we have orders, professor, it's important -"

"There is nothing more important than science!" Hojo says sharply. "Now come along. There are tests we need to run, and the more time we waste the more invaluable data we lose!"

Angeal hesitates. Hojo is a department head. Lazard is just a Director of a sub-department - Hojo's orders trump his. And - and is Angeal really supposed to fight other company employees? That's - that's treason. Shinra has its issues, of course, but…

Hojo doesn't wait for him to make his decision - the Professor steps up and grabs Sephiroth's wrist. "Come along, boy, it's time for -"

It's like the world slows down.

Angeal has a grip on Sephiroth's right elbow, holding him up. Hojo has his left wrist and is pulling. Normally it wouldn't be strong enough to even bother Sephiroth. Normally a man of Hojo's slim build wouldn't be an issue. But these aren't normal conditions.

Another tug, and Sephiroth might fall, stumble, anything. Another tug, and they'll find out how weak Sephiroth currently is. Another tug, and Angeal would have to make a choice between following orders… or getting his friend out of there.

Hojo pulls violently, Angeal braces himself - and then Sephiroth throws up on Hojo. 

He throws up a lot.

He throws up mostly blood.

The aftermath is unspeakably gruesome.

"Oh, that is so much better," Sephiroth sighs, easily tugging his wrist from Hojo's loose grip and wiping the back of it against his lips. "Pardon me, professor. Bad blood, you know, had to come out sooner or later."

Hojo just stands there, stunned, covered in blood. Angeal looks between them in horrified amazement as Sephiroth stands up under his own power again. The infantry troopers have actually backed away a step in apparent horror. The technicians look like they want to run away.

There's an audible dripping sound.

Sephiroth clears his throat, looks away, and then reaches to press up on the elevator key pad.

The elevator doors slowly close on Hojo's blood-soaked visage with a sad little squeak.

-

.... Yeah I have no excuses except that I thought it was funny, heh.

[storm-angel989]

AWWW I just read your Val & Vox with a little girl and its so so cute!! Can I maybe request a one shot of Vox as a girl's dad too? Like his daughter in life getting to hell in her late teens, and now Vox has to deal with the change in taking care of her because he only knew how to take care of her as a child before he died. Thank youu 💖💙

This request. Could have gone in SO MANY FUN WAYS! Let me know your feedback and thoughts! Enjoy- I can do a part two if you like it!!

I downed my tenth cup of coffee and adjusted myself in my chair. My head pounded and I hoped that just a few more drops of the life-giving liquid would keep the exhaustion at bay long enough to get this project done. I hit the call button on the intercom in my office.

“Charles! Another cup!” 

Ten seconds. Enough of a break. I turned my attention back to the document on my computer. 

My assistant brought in another cup right away. “Ms. Reader, don’t you think you’re getting carried away?” 

“I said coffee. Not lip. Order me a raspberry mocha from the shop down the street and have it here in exactly twenty minutes.” I responded as I continued to type. 

He bowed his head. “As you wish. Mr. Vox asked for an update. What should I tell him?”

I paused for a half a moment. “Tell my Dad it will be ready well before the deadline.” 

I looked back down and continued to type. It had been a month since I first found myself in hell. It took my father no time to locate me- though his reaction wasn’t what I expected. 

“Babygirl, you grew up.” He said as I sat across from him in his perfectly manicured office. A pained expression crossed his face. “Tell me, what did you do in your human life to land you in my office? And so young too…how old are you now? Eighteen?”

Sixteen. I thought to myself. An idea began to form. He didn’t remember my age- that could work to my advantage. After all, acting older than I was was a skill I acquired, and I was more than used to my own independence. I crossed my arms. “Eighteen. I’ve been running your company since I was thirteen.” That much, at least, was true. “What do you think got me here? Your business skills weren’t the only thing I inherited.” 

He sighed. “The same thing that brought me here. Fine.” 

He reached out to touch my face and I jerked away. He was a stranger to me, gone from my life when I was six. My mother tried to keep his company on Earth going, but she didn’t have the business skills I did. And when she passed the company fell to my hands with contingencies. Overnight I became the voice- the face of the company, running between me and the board. 

When I passed she was the first person I looked for. Not that I thought I’d find her- and I was right. She went up, and we went down. My dad and his company found me shortly after, and I wasn’t in the slightest surprised to find he was as much of a go getter down here as he was when he was alive, the sole owner of VoxTech. 

But as I sat in his office across from him, memories of him in life blossomed. Soft words. Snuggles. Hugs and kisses. All the comfort that was ripped away the day he left us, left me. 

“You’re going to need a place,” he continued. “A place to stay. A job. I can give you all those things. Keep you safe.”

My other option was the streets of hell. An unappealing choice at best. And so, I accepted the role he offered and the responsibilities that came with it. I was determined to show my father that I was a hardworking girlboss, worthy of his faith in me. 

“And send,” I said aloud as I finished the final drop of my mocha. My head felt fuzzy and my chest definitely buzzed but it was worth it. I opened my inbox. The time on the clock read ten- I had finished with several days to spare. Might as well keep going. 

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I knew I startled awake to the feeling of a hand on my wrist. 

“Hey, hey baby girl. Take a deep breath, it’s just me.” My dad said. 

I shifted and realized he had covered me with his jacket. I tried to sit up and realized I wasn’t in my office anymore. Instead, I laid on the couch in his.

Fuck. The project. Did I submit it?

“Wh-what time is it? I’m late, I still need…” I sat up.

Vox pushed me back down. “No. You need to lay down. You’re exhausted and your pulse is really high. The doctor is on his way up to look at you. When was the last time you went home to bed?” 

Three days ago. But I didn’t want to tell him that, so instead I remained silent. Vox let out a soft chuckle. 

“You haven’t changed all that much, have you?” He asked as he smoothed back my hair. “You used to do this when you were little too. Play so hard you fell asleep where you were. I used to pick you up and put you to bed, and you were so exhausted you didn’t wake up.”

“Is that how I got here?” I asked.Throbbing pain pulsed through my skull and I closed my eyes as I pressed my head into my hands. “Ugh, my head hurts.” 

“Yeah. Your assistant found you passed out on your desk around midnight. He called me right away.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm and hit a button. “When was the last time you drank water? Or ate anything?” Concern oozed from his voice. “I found like twenty empty coffee cups in your office.”

“I had coffee. I’m good. Lived on it back home. Live on it here.” I winced as the cuff grew tighter on my arm. “I’m fine, Dad.” 

“You’re not. And I want numbers while we wait for the doctor to get here. What were you thinking?” He placed the back of his hand on my head. “Com’on you’re smarter than that.” 

I felt my cheeks flush. “I’m not a child, Dad.”

“Maybe not anymore, but you’ll always be my baby,” he replied calmly. “So will you relax and let me be your dad for a moment?” 

I relented and let him fuss until the doctor came in. Vox stood with his arms crossed until I got the all clear. 

“Just cut down on the caffeine, plenary of fluids, and get a few days of rest, and you’ll be fine in no time,” the doctor said finally. He scribbled a few things on his notepad. “Quick question. How old are you, exactly? Because your father says eighteen, but my records show sixteen.” 

I saw Vox turn to look at me, a mix of fury and annoyance on his face. Shit. He grabbed the clipboard from the doctor and scanned the sheet. Realization flooded his face. 

“Rest and fluids, that I can do,” I said loudly as I pulled myself up to standing. “Dad, you don’t mind if I cut out a few minutes early, do you?”

Vox swallowed and looked at me. “You told me you were twenty.”

“Actually, I said eighteen.” I replied, “not that it matters.”

“Oh, it does matter.” He said, his voice laced with anger. “You lied to me.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been on my own running your company for three years. But anyway, I’m going home, Dad. See you tomorrow.” I went to walk out the door and he caught my wrist. 

“Oh fuck no. You think I’m going to let my teenage daughter waltz out of here after all this? No. You’re coming home with me. End of discussion. And consider yourself suspended from work for the time being. 

I felt myself freeze. “You can’t fire me, this is my job!” 

He laughed darkly. “Oh honey! You work for me. Consider it your punishment for lying to your Boss.” He stood up. “Let’s go. You’re not staying in that apartment by yourself. You’re sixteen.” He shook his head. “You’re sixteen.”

“Then where am I staying?” I asked, crossing my arms as unease flooded through me.

“Home. With me. Where you belong.” He said firmly as he pressed his hand to my shoulder. 

I felt myself deflate but again, seeing no other option, I let him guide me to the elevator. Three floors later, the elevator opened and I followed him into a spacious living room.

“I’ll have your things taken from your apartment and moved into the fourth bedroom,” he said as he gave me the tour. 

“I’ve been on my own for a month in hell, and even longer before then,” I protested. “I know how to live by myself.”

He stopped walking and turned his head. “Then I guess it’s about time you learned how to be a teenager then, hm?” 

Anger flooded through me. “That isn’t fair! Dad!”

Vox gave me a grin. “There. That’s a great start! But seriously, you’re grounded.”

“You can’t ground me!”

He practically puffed himself up. “You’re sixteen and I’m your dad. Of course I can. And you are.” He pushed open the door “and this is your room. You can redecorate as you please.”

I stepped inside. “Wait, this is my room?”

Easily twice the size of my little apartment, the bed alone took up the center of the room. It’s current color scheme was neutral, with huge windows overlooking the city. 

“Yeah, like I said, order whatever you want and I’ll have Velvette…”

“Aunt Velvette?!” I asked, excitement washing over me. 

“You remember her?” He asked in a surprised voice. “Do you remember Valentino too?” He leaned against the doorframe and waited for my reaction. 

I turned around. “Uncle Val? The badass mafia mobster that used to come over and toss me in the pool when you guys got tired of doing it?”

“Hey, who told you he was a mobster?” Vox asked as I continued to look around the room.

“Mom.” 

He sighed. “Of course she did. Well, she wasn’t wrong. But yes. One and the same. We met up in hell and we-“

“Continue to rule together as much as you did in life. Got it,” I replied. “Did you not tell them I was here? In the building this whole time?”

Vox shrugged. “I was hoping to get to know you a bit more before I let them know you were here. But I wanted to give you some time to settle in first. After all, I thought you were an adult. Time…time passes differently down here.”

“Reader? Is that really you?” I heard an excited voice yell from the hallway.

My head turned. I knew that voice. Velvette pushed past Vox and she and Valentino practically ran over to me. 

“Aww, my little Princessa! All grown up I see!” My Uncle Val lifted me up and spun me around like I was five. He kissed me on the forehead and set me down. 

Shock flooded through my body as I looked at them both in their demon forms. Seeing my Dad with a TV shaped head was one thing- it made sense with what he did. Aunt Velvette still looked the same but Uncle Val? He looked…scarily different. Purple skin, sharp teeth. The only thing that stayed the same was his signature heart shaped glasses. 

“Valentino, chill. You spooked her.” Velvette scolded. “It’s been what, how many years?”

“Wait- where is Uncle Al?” I asked 

My father glitched. “We don’t talk about him. Not after what he did to me.” 

“What did he do?” I asked in confusion. 

“Ah, no. Princessa. Baby. You’ll get your daddy all worked up. We don’t want or need that,” Valentino scolded.

I crossed my arms and took a defensive stance. “I’m not five. And I’ve been an adult for a long, long time.” 

“Yeah, why don’t you tell us all about that? Over dinner.” Vox said, slinging his arm over my shoulder. “After all, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a family dinner.”

He didn’t know the half of it.

[axelsagewrites]

Kinktober 2023 List

Welcome to my first ever kinktober, a month long of smutty drabbles and one shots. Hope you all enjoy and if you want added to a charecter/fandom tag list so you dont miss anything let me know <3

NSFW under cut

Masterlist Here

Day one: discrete fun with Robb Stark – deciding to take his teasing to a new level Robb decides to take the sex toys out of the bedroom

Day two: marking with Jace Velaryon – jealous is an understatement for what Jace is feeling so he decides to fix his problems by showing everyone who you belong to

Day three: phone sex with Jamie Tartt – even though he loved to play the long nights away from you were almost impossible to bare so he often found himself hitting call at late hours of the night

Day four: body worship with Podrick Payne – Podrick feels honoured just to be able to touch your body and wants you to hear his praises

Day five: role reversal with James Potter – James is used to being in charge, but things change when one night you decide to give him a taste of his own teasing medicine

Day six: over stimulation with Jon Snow – Jon is eager to please but even more eager to make you a mumbling mess who doesn’t know their own name by the end

Day seven: stepcest/cam girl au with Daemon Targaryen – after Daemons new stepdaughter moves in daemon finds out her naughty little secret

Day eight: dubcon kidnap au with Ramsay Bolton – Ramsay can’t stand the idea of such a pretty creature going unappreciated any longer

Day nine: edging/orgasm denial with Rhanerya Targaryen – since you’re used to get everything you want Rhaenyra decides to show you good things come to those who wait

Day ten: throne/semi public sex with Danerys Targaryen – being the queen is a stressful job and it is your job to help your queen relax even if that means risking getting caught

Day eleven: knife play with Ivar the Boneless – people whisper and wonder how someone so sweet could marry someone so angry, but they don’t see what Ivar does when you’re underneath him

Day twelve: exhibitionism with Tormund – while wildlings talk freely about sex Tormund enjoys watching your blush at even the mention of it making it even more fun to tease you when you come to tend to his wounds

Day thirteen: primal play with Remus Lupin – usually when Remus runs around the forest its not by choice but tonight, he is chasing his favourite prey

Day fourteen: sex toys and teasing with Sansa Stark – after finding a sleek pink vibrator in her top drawer you decide to see what it can really do

Day fifteen: voyeurism with Aegon Targaryen – while you are visiting his family Aegon discovers a secret passage and what he accidentally sees through the cracks makes him want you instantly

Day sixteen: caught in the act with Roy Kent – when Roy came home all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you but when he heard a buzzing from under the sheets his plans took a very different turn

Day seventeen: mommy kink with Cersei Lannister – while she may be rough and callous to most others Cersei finds herself dotting on her sweet girl in her chambers each night

Day eighteen: corruption kink with Alicent Hightower – a new septa arrive at court but none of the thoughts on Alicent’s minds are holy

Day nineteen: choking with Bjorn Ironside – you may have been captured by the enemies, but the punishment Bjorn gives you is starting to feel like a reward

Day twenty: bondage/wax play with Margaery Tyrell: people may whisper about her brother’s bedroom habits but none of them see the things she gets up to with her ladies’ maid

Day twenty-one: face fucking with Cregan Stark: to gain his loyalty Cregan demands that you earn it, and he enjoys watching the tears streak down your face as you do

Day twenty-two: daddy kink with Sirius Black – the word just slipped out one time but now it’s all Sirius wants to hear from your lips

Day twenty-three: brat taming with Sandor Clegane – after growing sick of a princess’s bratty attitude Sandor decides to teach her how to behave

Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel

Day twenty-five: breeding kink with Ned Stark – there is a reason why Ned has so many children and it’s not as noble as many assume

Day twenty-six: collaring with Aemond Targaryen – not wanting to share Aemond decides to invest in something to show that you’ll always be his and only his

Day twenty-seven: double penetration with Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent: they both like you and when they came to settle it once and for all neither of them expected this out come

Day twenty-eight: mutual masturbation with Oberyn Martell – you always heard that the dornish were more sex positive than most, but you hadn’t expected Oberyn Martell of all people to show you just how good it could feel

Day twenty-nine: face riding with Heleana Targaryen – while Heleana appeared shy outside of your chambers when you, her maid, came to tend to her at night she was anything but shy

Day thirty: teacher student au with Jamie Lannister – he knew it was wrong to ask you to stay after class but after one too many short, short skirts he could no longer keep his thoughts at bay

Day thirty-one: orgy/group sex with Aegon, Aemond, Jace, Daemon, and Rhaenyra since after all sharing is caring

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-two

759 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one

Eddie do you ever think about what you’re gonna do after high school? like how am i expected to know what i want to do with my life? i mean, i have another year to think about it but not that much can change in a year you probably wanna do something with music, right? make it big with your band and have people screaming your songs i’d go to every show if i could be your own personal groupie who knows? maybe that’s my calling p.s. have a good time at hellfire tonight i hope you win !!!!! -H

You’d think the win last night would put him in high spirits, and it did. At first. He celebrated with the guys, passed on the get together someone suggested, and drove home feeling proud. It was when he was laying in bed, though, that he started thinking. When he graduates, how often will he be able to ride a high like that? From pure accomplishment?

Steve puts on a brave face for morning practice. He doesn’t wanna drag anyone down with him. He goes through the motions of accepting congratulations and pats on the back from his peers and teachers alike all morning long. 

It only makes him think, though. 

Seriously, what comes after this? More school? Does he accept that internship at his father’s soul sucking company? Does he get a gob and jump right into adulthood?

What it really comes down to is the fact that Steve had never thought he’d have a future. Honestly. He’s getting closer and closer everyday to the next stage in his life, though. The years snuck up on him and now he has to deal with it. 

On a lesser scale, Steve doesn’t like thinking about what life will be like once Eddie graduates this coming May. How is Steve meant to tolerate this hellhole without him? Sure, he’d gone years without really noticing him, but now that he knows what it’s like to have a taste of him in his life, he doesn’t think he could go back. 

The whole thing makes his pulse quicken and sweat begin to bead at his hairline. By the time he makes it to art class, there’s a tension forming at his temples and he’s not looking forward to the headache. He doesn’t think he has it in him to act like everything’s normal. 

For once, Carol doesn’t acknowledge his foul mood. She’s too busy staring at Robin. For the portrait, of course. 

The teacher had informed them today the class is basically a free period and they can choose what to work on or what to not work on. 

Steve sits slumped over the table with his head resting on his folded arms. He kind of wishes Eddie hadn’t put the divider up and also that he had his sunglasses so he could stare at him without feeling weird about it. 

Instead, he rests his eyes and tunes into the sounds of pencil on paper surrounding him. He dozes for a while and has nearly fallen asleep when he’s awoken with a poke to his cheek. 

Steve peels his eyes open, but no one seems to be wanting his attention. There is, however, a piece of paper placed next to his left arm. 

It’s a drawing. 

A stick figure with tall swoopy hair and eerily realistic eyes. 

Steve looks to his left, only to find the culprit still hard at work with his face tucked behind the divider. 

Steve visually fills in the blank and surmises Eddie’s smile probably matches his own. 

Steve doesn’t dare fold the paper. He tucks it into the notebook he has to keep it safe. Throughout the rest of the day, he opens the book just to look at it. When he takes it home, he tapes it to a wall in his bedroom, somewhere he can always see it. 

Eddie did i ever tell you how sweet it is that your club has matching tees? i haven’t seen anyone who doesn’t do sports or the school band have a uniform but it makes sense that other clubs would, too you look good in black, don’t get me wrong, but GOD i thought i was gonna die the first time i saw yours so thanks for that also, while we’re on the subject of how hot you are,  you should wear your hair up more often p.s. sorry about the existential crisis on friday i wasn’t doing too good but i got a pick-me-up eventually <3 -H

tag list (closed)

@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso

@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx

@tinyplanet95 @dannys-guilt-ridden-cockroach @theohohmoment @corvus-perplexus @hippieg1rl420

@blurryjoji @bookbinderbitch @arthurianace @dragonmama76 @thesuninyaface

@tillystealeaves @p0lybl4nkk @sageclipse @mugloversonly @chameleonhair

@thedragonsaunt @yesdangerpls @sanctumdemunson @slv-333 @loguine-linguine

@resident-gay-bitch @anaibis @moomkin77 @thrashbatx @salchica

@flustratedcas @ajeff855 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @pearynice @imaginary-maggie-waggie

[its-time-to-write]

can i request a continuation of the jamie x kent!reader baby fever fic where they actually have a kid? the best friend’s sister trope is one of my favs and i literally eat up anything you write🤍

I had some down time today, so I wrote a little thing for this! It probably makes more sense if you read the other fics in this Kent! reader universe. Here’s a list:

take your time while you’re mine

would it be enough if i never gave you peace

let’s fall in love for the night

Thanks for requesting!!

here in my arms

Roy is holding the tiniest baby he’s ever seen. 

“There’s no way I was ever that small,” Phoebe whispers from the couch next to him, and Roy agrees. Surely Phoebe was bigger than this little bundle he’s looking at. 

“Cute little lad, ain’t he?” Jamie says from the other couch. 

Roy’s not sure what to say because on the one hand, he doesn’t want to explicitly agree with something Jamie’s said but on the other hand… this kid’s fucking adorable. 

“Jamie,” calls your voice from upstairs.

“Coming!” he replies. “You’re good here, yeah Roy?”

Roy scoffs. Is he good here. He’s Uncle fucking Roy. He’s a pro.

“Right, I’ll take that as a yes then,” Jamie says. “Food should be here in an hour. If me ’n the missus ain’t awake by then, just let us be. We don’t need food.” He gets halfway out the room before he stops and asks, “You’re sure you’re good here?”

This time, Roy fully rolls his eyes. “Fuck off, Tartt. Go get some sleep before my sister fucking murders you.”

Jamie says, “Right,” salutes to Phoebe, then turns on his heel to head upstairs to your bedroom. He shuts the door behind him and slips under the covers. The curtains are pulled, and it’s dark in the room despite the fact that it’s only the middle of the morning.

You’re barely awake, but you’ve tried your best to stay conscious until Jamie got there. You wiggle close to him and let him pull you into his arms.

“Kid’s fucking great, huh?” he whispers into your hair.

“Hm,” you agree.

“Mum said she’ll be down in a coupla days to help out. Simon’s coming too. Is that alright?”

“Don’t care,” you say. “I need sleep, babe. Kid’s seven days old and I am already wiped out. How’m I supposed to do this for eighteen years?”

Jamie’s rubbing circles on your back, and the only thing keeping you from sleep is the thought that you might not be cut out to be a mother.

“You’ve got me,” he says. “You’re not alone, babe, plus Phoebe can babysit in another three years.”

“I am not leaving George with a thirteen-year old,” you reply. “Nothing against Phoebs, but I can barely leave him with my brother right now without worrying about him. I just wish Molly weren’t so busy because I really, really need her right now.”

A tear leaks out of your eye onto Jamie’s shirt, but he doesn’t care. “It’s alright, babe,” he says, “swear down. Mum’s a fuckin’ genius with babies. She raised me, didn’t she? And I was a fucking handful.”

That just makes you cry even harder. “I want my mum, Jamie. Why did she have to go? I wish- I wish she and dad didn’t leave us. She’s supposed to be here, supposed to help with George and hold my hand and tell me I was the exact same when I was a baby but no she and dad had to fuck off to Paris or something stupid when I was two and leave me and Molly with our cousins! It’s shit. How can you just walk out on your own kids?”

Jamie kisses your forehead and says, “Oi, look. You’re already miles better at being a mum because you’re never going to walk out on George. And mum loves you, mostly because you make sure I eat real food, but she’ll stay as long as you need. I’m off training for another week, besides. Don’t have to go back just yet.”

You sniffle. “I should’ve had him during the off season.”

“Oh yeah, because we planned George’s conception all proper-like,” Jamie retorts.

You’re silent and for a moment he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, except you shudder once, so he knows you’re still crying. Jamie holds you as tight as he can, at a loss for words. He’s pretty sure you’re just tired with fucked-up hormones and that either Molly or his mum knows how to handle this, but for now he’s at a loss for a solution. He’s trying to think of something to say when you beat him to it.

“Do you think his middle name’s dumb?”

That is certainly not what he expected to hear. “Fuck no,” he replies. “George Kent Tartt? Kid’s going places with a name like that.”

You sigh. “He’s gonna fucking hate us for that. Shit, we should’ve done something normal.”

“How the fuck is ‘Kent,’ not normal? Y’know what’s mental? The fact that me mum named me ‘James Tartt.’ Come on, babe. Jam Tart? That’s all I ever got called in primary school.”

“I did veto a lot of your choices,” you murmur.

Jamie shakes his head. “You did, didn’t you? Shame. Kid could’ve been named ‘Apple Tartt.’ He’d’ve fucking loved that.”

“For sure,” you agree. Jamie’s glad to hear that your voice is returning to its normal, sleepy state so he tries to stay as still as possible. Sure enough, you emit a small snore less than a minute later. Jamie smiles to himself and closes his eyes. He thinks he can hear Roy saying something to George and/or Phoebe, so he lets himself drift off with you.

[suzukiblu]

more of the one where Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones, yes including the supervillain one:

"I don't know why people keep doing this," Superman sighs as they stop in the air high above the cloud cover between them and the Lyon lab. 

"Stealing your DNA?" Match asks. 

"Kidnapping a sixteen year-old," Superman says like he thinks it's some kind of correction. Match frowns. 

"Superboy is two," he says. And closer to physiologically eighteen at this point, even accounting for the temporary stall in his aging process. Definitely not sixteen by either count, though. 

"I–well, yes," Superman says uncomfortably. "But you know what I mean." 

Match doesn't, actually. 

"It won't be difficult to crack the lab," he says instead of admitting that. "Security won't be prepared for an external assault from your full powerset." 

"Because they think I wouldn't come," Superman says, sounding resigned. 

"Yes," Match confirms. 

"Because of your reports?" Superman says. 

"Yes," Match says. "And you never did before, either." 

Superman frowns, sparing him a confused glance. 

"Why would I have come before Superboy was even here?" he asks. 

"I was here," Match says. 

Superman's frown deepens. He looks over at him again. Match isn't sure why; the lab is the current concern. 

Maybe he assumes that he's lying about the security. Or that he's going to tell the Agenda that he's here. Those would both be fair assumptions. 

"The Agenda thought I might come for you?" Superman says. 

"The theory was presented, initially," Match says. "But you didn't, so external security in the newer labs is less intensive." 

"Why did they think I'd do that?" Superman asks. 

"Superboy and I only exist because of you," Match says. "And the Agenda knew he'd reported my existence to you." 

"I wasn't actually involved in either of your creations, though," Superman says, still frowning. "My DNA was stolen." 

"Yes," Match agrees, tilting his head. Did Superman think he didn't know that? "Because you made your DNA valuable." 

"What?" Superman frowns at him again. 

"Your DNA was stolen because it was valuable," Match clarifies. "Because you demonstrated it was valuable. You don't use science or tricks or magic or owe any gods or countries or labs any kind of allegiance. You just exist on this planet and you're the most powerful thing on it just because you're here. You can do anything you want, whenever you want, and no one else can stop you. Not even if they kill you." 

Superman doesn't say anything. 

"And you told everyone that," Match continues. "You told everyone that you were the most powerful thing on this planet just because of your very valuable DNA and the fact that we happen to be revolving around a yellow sun. That you can't even die. That you'll always do whatever you think needs done, no matter what anyone else thinks or who tries to stop you from doing it." 

Superman still doesn't say anything. 

"So Superboy and I only exist because of you," Match finishes, and then looks back down at the lab below through the cloud cover. Thirteen is down there right now. Or he should be, at least. 

Maybe he's already escaped. 

That's a very Thirteen kind of thing to do, after all. 

"That's how you feel?" Superman asks, all careful-voiced again. 

"That's what I know," Match corrects. "Would you prefer to go straight in or should I provide a distraction first?" 

". . . I'll be the distraction," Superman says, still watching him with an absolutely indecipherable expression that Match doesn't understand the purpose of. "Find Superboy and say my name when you do. Then I'll get you both out." 

"The Agenda will want me back, though," Match says with a frown, not understanding. 

"Do you want to stay with them?" Superman asks. 

Match has absolutely no idea how Superman can even ask him that. It's not a choice if he stays with the Agenda. 

It's never been a choice. 

"They made me," he says. "They own me." 

"That isn't true," Superman says. "You don't have to stay with them just because they made you. Not if you don't want to. Superboy didn't stay with the people who made him, did he?" 

". . . Superboy lives at Cadmus," Match says, more than a little confused by that statement. "He works for Cadmus. He's a field agent." 

"He–what?" Superman blinks. 

"Did you not know that?" Match asks. That really seems like something Superman should've known. Especially since it's something the Agenda knows. "They're under new management. But it's still Cadmus." 

"I–he's still there? I thought that was just . . . why would he still be there?" Superman asks, looking troubled. 

Match really, really doesn't understand Superman as a person. 

"Because he requires food, shelter, and financial support," he ticks off on his fingers. "Also presumably other resources. And he has no legal identity or legal guardian to either obtain or provide said resources. Therefore: Cadmus." 

Therefore: the Agenda. 

It really doesn't seem like something that should need explained, to him. 

Superman looks at him for a very long moment. 

"Find Superboy," he says, finally. "Then say my name." 

"Understood," Match says.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

********

TWO: G & G.

You know that there are those in the world who strike fear into people’s hearts and souls.

But you’ve never seen anyone react to a single human being the way they do the duo that struts into the bar in their leather cowboy boots. 

You’ve never seen the saloon so quiet and still before then when the duo steps into the scene. A tumbleweed could blow by with how silent it is.

Everyone’s eyes stay planted on the tall, handsome men oozing with confidence and intimidation standing among the swinging doors, appearing like sexy phantoms in the night.

There stands Geto Suguru, the 6’4 long-haired gunslinger with the perfect, black locks that cascade down his broad shoulders and back, seductive eyes, and skillful hands that he hides behind two riding gloves.

He usually is seen riding a black Bronco that is just as big as him and sporting a black cape with black riding pants, boots, and a low-brim cowboy hat. Black fits him so damn well. The only thing that isn’t black on him is the red vest that is so low-cut that you can see the outline of his pecs. 

Beside him is his partner (and lover as it’s rumored) Gojo Satoru, the lean, confident, cocky, blindfolded bandit standing at 6’3 with snow-white hair, a sly smile, leather gloves that hide some skillful and deadly hands, and a blindfold covering his eyes that have never been seen but are said to make a man go cold with fear where he stands.

In contrast to Geto, the white-haired cowboy is doused in colors: a denim jacket that matches his slacks where a star-shaped belt buckle hangs from his crotch; brown boots with spurs; a red bandana wrapped around his neck; and a white cowboy hat sits low on his head. He, too, has his own horse: a brown Bronco that is recognizable from its hooves clicking across the ground.  

They are a match made in heaven and hell. Handsome, skillful, and deadly. They are known for their impressive yet terrifying speed when it comes to cocking and shooting their pistols. You’ve heard of them killing all kinds of wanted criminals and even other gunslingers in other counties.

Everyone knows them and so do you. 

If a record was playing, the damn thing would be scratching by now with the way the saloon reacts to seeing the gunslingers in the flesh. Whispers begin to rise from the silence, including from Yuki, Mai, and Maki who have wandered over. “Oh, my God,” Mai gasps. “It’s the Gunslingers!” 

“What the hell are they doin’ here?” Maki wonders aloud, peering at them from behind her spectacles. “Are they lookin’ for someone? I thought they had been arrested!” 

And they did, last year. At some point, the articles of gunslingers, corporation owners, and high rollers found dead with bullets in them and a note from “G & G” left at the scene stopped when they were arrested after that train heist. And you know it has everything to do with their connection to your boss. 

“Who cares?” Yuki dreamily sighs as she stares at the gunslingers with heart eyes. “I get to admire them in person now! Aren’t they delicious?” 

“Keep it in your pants, Yuki,” Choso grumbles, tugging on a lock of the blonde’s hair as she giggles. “They ain’t even all that.” 

“Of course not,” Yuki purrs, making Choso blush. “Not above you, Chosi, but a cowboy hat would do you so well!”

Even you will admit that the “wanted dead or alive” posters don’t do them justice: they are fine as all hell, straight out of a woman’s wet dreams. But they are also outlaws. And you despise outlaws…for personal reasons. 

The duo begins to look around the silent saloon, Gojo’s head slowly turning despite his blindfold. When his head turns toward you, you feel as if the air has been stolen from your very lungs. Despite the fabric covering his eyes, you feel as if he sees you. All of you. 

Gojo nudges Geto with his elbow before waltzing over to the bar, his boots thudding across the hardwood floor. Geto follows, ignoring the whispers and stares in their wake. The piano has begun to pick up again, but it does nothing to ease the tension swimming in the air. Quickly, you turn to face your drink while the girls scatter to work, leaving you to fend for yourself. 

Geto sits on the stool beside you while Gojo takes the one beside him. You feel the air around you become stiff and tense as the cowboys settle into their seats. “So what’s a cowboy gotta do to get a drink round here?” Gojo asks with a smirk. “Can ya help a guy out, miss?”

He gives Shoko a flirty look, not knowing that this girl is gay as hell. “I could damn sure try,” she replies, barely giving him a smile. “What will you fellas have?” 

“I’ll take a Long Island iced tea,” Gojo says then laughs. “Just kiddin’! A beer, please.”

Geto takes a moment to examine the shelves of alcohol behind Shoko. He then looks at your pretty drink. “I’ll take what the lady is havin’,” he answers. “Actually, what is that you got there, miss?” 

His dark, enchanting eyes meet yours and you ignore the butterflies they invoke inside of you. “Whiskey smash,” you blandly reply.

He hums thoughtfully at the name. “Hm…is it good?” You tick your eyes at him briefly, secretly admiring his features. “If you like your whiskey with some sweetness to it, sure.”

A slow smirk appears on his face. “Oh, I definitely do,” he drawls. “I like sweetness with my everything.” 

You swallow hard, so sure you have a cherry pit in your throat. Gojo chuckles from beside his partner, flashing you a white-toothed smile. “Oooh, me too. I’ll third that order, ma’am!” Shoko nods and shoots you a look before wandering off to fix the drinks. 

You do your best to keep calm and act normal, sipping your drink and trying to relax. At some point, the silence becomes thicker, prompting one of the gunslingers to speak on it. “Welcomin’ place,” Gojo sniggers. “I feel so at home.”

Geto quietly chuckles from between you and Gojo. “Let’s just settle, Satoru. We won’t be here long.” 

‘Settle what?’ you wonder, but you know that they are here for Kento. Shoko comes back with the frothy, red drinks, lowering them in front of the gunslingers. 

“Thank you kindly,” Gojo chirps before taking a sip. Geto nods his thanks but doesn’t drink his right away. Instead, he goes into his pocket and retrieves a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it and slides it across the bar to Shoko. “I don’t suppose you know who this guy is,” he says. 

You peek down at the paper, finding it to be a “Wanted” poster with your BF and boss looking back at you. Kenzo aka “Valentine” looks much different than when you met him. On the poster, he is clean and shaven, has longer, shaggier hair, and has a distinguished scar on his left eye.

But of course, this is the gunslinger who robbed people blind and just pulled a train heist and massacre in the town of Cherrywood a year before with his crew, Geto, and Gojo. The man who takes his place now is Kenzo, a humble saloon owner who sometimes dabbles in illegal activity to fund his saloon.  

Valentine, a criminal on the lamb and your outlaw boyfriend, is known for using his looks, charm, and violence to get what he wants. He is a man who loves money, women, and jewels. As a notorious criminal and outlaw, he has bounced from place to place, county to county, robbing folks and then laying low before starting again. 

He was arrested for robbing the Cherrywood regional train and having his crew massacre all of its employees and riders before you met him. Originally, he was given a fifty-year sentence but escaped after serving five weeks just by seducing a male prison guard and then knocking him out to steal the cell keys. 

You were hot on his trails when he showed up Blackwater a year later and met you in a whorehouse that you purposely took a job in since he frequented those. He took one look at you and immediately fell in love with you (and your body), proposing you a job at his saloon. “You could be mine,” he told you. “My girl.” You agreed and the rest is history. 

“I’ve heard of him, yes,” Shoko replies as she cleans a glass. 

“Is it possible you’ve seen him around?” Geto ponders aloud. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but he escaped Cherrywood a year ago after robbin’ a train and massacrin’ everyone in it. He’s wanted in about nine different counties.”

Shoko takes another brief look at the poster before someone flags her down from down at the bar. Saved by the bell. “I can’t say I have seen him, fellas,” she apologetically says. “‘Scuse me.” 

She hurries off, leaving you with the two cowboys. “How about you, ma’am?” Geto asks, passing the poster to you. “You recognize this face by any chance?” You look down, studying Valentine’s face.

You have, but first, you need to read these guys. “I’ve seen him in the posters, but not in person. May I ask why you two are here?” 

You keep it casual and curious, making sure you don’t sound too suspicious. “We were paid by a private source to track down Valentine for his crimes,” Geto vaguely explains. 

“And for personal business,” Gojo adds with a smirk. “You see, we were in, uh…business with Valentine some time ago and never got our cut.”

He doesn’t need to go any more into detail than that. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “We don’t like bein’ played with,” he says, his voice dipping an octave, sending a chill down your spine. “Or when someone’s money is funny, so we came here to exchange words with him.” 

‘Words or bullet?’ you want to ask, but you instead bite your tongue and sip your drink. 

“We’ve been told he was last seen in this town,” Geto explains. “We figured everyone comes to saloons so why not check here?” He slides the poster away from you, a kind yet flirty smile crossing his beautiful face. “But even if he isn’t, we can still enjoy a drink with a pretty lady.” 

You roll your eyes, having heard that line before. “Does that line work with all the girls?” you scoff. Gojo coughs up his whiskey as he laughs, but Geto doesn’t take it to heart. In fact, he chuckles.  “I see not with you,” he replies. 

“I like that,” Gojo states once he’s recovered, his blindfolded eyes set dead on you. “You’ve gotta be the first person who isn’t scared of us or tryin’ to jump in bed with us.”

You passively shrug, twirling your tongue around the rim of the glass. “I’ve been around gunslingers in my time.” 

At this, the duo share a look unbeknownst to you, quite interested in the pretty thing sitting with them at the bar. “Oh, really?” Gojo drawls and you realize your mistake. “Any of these encounters you’d care to share, little lady? I’m quite interested.”

Geto nods, his gaze like molten fire. “I am too.” 

You suddenly feel your mouth grow dry and your cheeks become hot. Your body reacts in a way it never has with any man you’ve been with, not even your first love! The way they continue to stare at you, giving you their undivided and unwanted attention, is even worse.

What is wrong with you?

Luckily, your boss comes to the rescue, barreling up to the bar like he wasn’t watching the duo from afar and shaking in his boots. 

“Oh, gentlemen!” he shouts, giving them both a hard, eager handshake. “Welcome, welcome! Can I offer you two another drink or a dance free of charge?”

Gojo ignores him like he isn’t even talking, leaving Geto to handle this. “Thanks, but no thanks,” he says, plastering on a kind smile. “We’re here for some information about him.” 

He passes Kenzo the poster and you watch in real time as the color in your boyfriend’s face drains. “Have you seen this guy anywhere?” Geto asks, squinting at him.

Gojo peers at him from under his hat, his stare intense even with the blindfold covering his eyes. Kenzo clears his throat and leans in to whisper to Geto. You pretend to ignore them though you secretly strain to hear. “Let’s talk in private,” he whispers. “Even the walls have ears, I’m afraid.” 

Geto nods and nudges to Gojo who sighs and downs the rest of his drink. To your shock, Geto puts a hand out to you for a shake. Though hesitantly, you take his hand and feel the room grow hotter than a sauna when he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “It was a pleasure meetin’ you, ma’am,” he softly says. “Hopefully, we’ll cross paths again.” 

His eyes gleam as he tips his hat at you, leaving Gojo to follow Kenzo upstairs. Gojo doesn’t follow right away, instead digging into his pocket for some coins and placing them on the bar in front of you. “For your drinks and yours,” he says with a crooked smile. “Have a good night, little miss.” 

Then, just like Geto, he leaves as if he didn’t just steal the air you breathe with it. It takes a moment to get your head back, but once you do, you down the rest of your drink and get up from your seat. Shoko catches your eye and gives you a look, her eyes telling you a message: 

“Don’t get caught,” she warns you. “And don’t get killed.” 

You nod, blowing her a kiss, before following your boss and the duo upstairs.