#even the hand towel on his shoulder. it looks so casual and natural. but if he were to lean over inbetween takes to pick up the other towel

[loganbcrnes]

Blooming Embarrassment

Logan Howlett x fem!reader x Victor Creed

no warnings. just fluff

The Xavier Institute was a place of peace and healing, or at least that’s what everyone kept telling you. The walls were sturdy, the beds comfortable, the food edible—most of the time. It was supposed to be a refuge for mutants like yourself, a safe haven after the nightmare endured at the hands of an anti-mutant organization. Yet, for all the safety it promised, it had presented an entirely new problem: Victor Creed and Logan Howlett. It wasn’t fair for two men to look that good. Victor was tall, broad, with a sharp grin that promised nothing but trouble. Logan, the same height, carried the same raw presence. The way they moved, all lethal confidence, had your heart beating wildly every time you caught sight of them. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing happening. Flowers. From your feet. Your powers were mostly useful—controlling animals, growing plants—but when flustered, they took on a life of their own. The moment nervousness, shyness, or embarrassment struck, flowers sprouted beneath you like a fairytale curse. Which was why speaking to either of them had been successfully avoided. Until today.

————————-

Heading to the kitchen for a late-night snack, you see him. Victor Creed, standing in the hallway, arms crossed, watching your approach with something that resembled mild interest. Shit. Turning back would make it obvious you were avoiding him. Instead, you take a deep breath and keep walking. Maybe if you just keep your head down— “Hey.” Oh no. Glancing up, you meet his amused golden eyes. “Uh. Hi.” Victor tilts his head, examining you like a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “You’re new.” “Been here a while,” you mumble. “Just… quiet.” “That so?” He takes a lazy step toward you, predatory by nature, even when he isn’t trying to be. “Figured you were a ghost or somethin’. Always see ya walkin’ by, but never hear a peep.” The size difference feels overwhelming. “I just… keep to myself.” He smirks, about to say something else—when it happens. Flowers. Right at your feet. Bright pink peonies bloom in an instant, curling around your ankles, vibrant against the dull hallway floor. Victor’s smirk falters as he glances down, then back up at your face. “What the hell?” “Nothing!” you squeak, before promptly turning and fleeing in the opposite direction.

————————

An afternoon in the mansion’s living room should be relaxing. Ororo sits beside you on the couch, flipping through a book, while Kurt lounges in a chair across from you, happily munching on a chocolate bar. The quiet hum of conversation fills the air, a rare moment of peace in a house full of chaos. It’s nice. Comfortable. Then Logan walks in. You don’t notice at first, but Ororo does. She glances up from her book, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Here comes trouble.” Kurt chuckles, following her gaze. “Ah, ja. Our dear friend is about to have a moment.” You frown, confused, until a familiar voice speaks up. “Didn’t expect to find ya here, sweetheart.” Your stomach flips. Logan strides in, casual as ever, a towel draped over his shoulders from what was likely an intense training session. He smells faintly of sweat and soap, his damp hair curling slightly at the ends. The sight alone is enough to make your face burn. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay— Flowers. Dainty white lilies and tiny purple violets burst from the floor beneath you, creeping around your ankles like they were always meant to be there. Logan pauses mid-step, eyebrows raising. His lips twitch, eyes darting from the flowers to your mortified expression. “Huh.” Ororo elegantly places a bookmark in her novel, watching with open amusement. “Fascinating.” Kurt barely suppresses a laugh. “A most unique reaction.” You want the earth to swallow you whole. Logan takes a slow step forward, deliberately closing the distance. “So, what kinda flowers ya think I’ll get if I—” He reaches out, nudging your chin up with a single finger. Sunflowers. Bright, golden, utterly betraying you. Kurt actually snorts. Ororo hides her grin behind her hand. “Oh, this is delightful.” Logan chuckles, stepping back. “Gotta say, darlin’, you’re makin’ this real fun for me.” You bury your face in your hands. “I hate this.” “No, you don’t,” Ororo teases. You do. (You really don’t.)

—————————

A few days later, Victor approaches with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Got somethin’ for ya,” he drawls, holding out a bouquet of wildflowers. The gesture alone is shocking enough to leave you speechless. “Figured if you’re gonna be sprouting these things, might as well bring my own.” You stare at the flowers, then at him. “You’re messing with me.” “Always.” He grins. “But I do wanna take ya out. Walk in the woods, just us. What do ya say?” Despite yourself, warmth spreads through your chest. “Fine.” The next evening, you walk together through the dense forest, the cool evening breeze rustling the leaves. Victor is surprisingly quiet at first, the usual smugness replaced by something more contemplative. Occasionally, his arm brushes against yours, and every time it does, your heartbeat picks up. You brought carrots for the deer, and when a small herd appears in the clearing, you both watch them with quiet appreciation. Victor chuckles as one nudges your hand for more food. “They like you.” “They’re animals,” you point out. “Of course they do.” He watches you carefully, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, his smirk returns. “Bet if I tried real hard, I could make ya bloom right now.” You scoff. “Not happening.” “Oh yeah?” He steps closer, his voice dropping an octave. “What if I—” “You wouldn’t.” “I would.” You jab him lightly in the ribs, laughing—until you suddenly find yourself pinned against a tree, Victor’s large hands gripping your wrists. His sharp grin fades just a little, his gaze darkening as he studies your face. “Y’know, you really are somethin’ else.” The teasing drops away for just a moment, leaving something more raw, more real. You barely have time to react before he crashes his lips against yours, rough and consuming. His grip tightens, the heat of his body pressing against yours, overwhelming in the best way. Your breath hitches, and just as expected—flowers bloom wildly at your feet, spiraling up the bark of the tree behind you. Wild roses, soft petals brushing against your ankles, betraying every emotion swirling inside you. Victor pulls back just enough to see the display, then smirks against your lips. “Knew it.”

———————

Logan’s low growl echoed across the room as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, a smug grin plastered across his face. “So, you’ve been avoiding me. What’s the deal, sweetheart? You’ve been making flowers grow like it’s your job every time we talk.” You shifted uncomfortably, your cheeks blazing with heat, and, as always, you felt the telltale tingling in your feet. Sure enough, delicate white blossoms began to bloom at the edges of your shoes. You swore you could hear him chuckle under his breath. “I—I’m not avoiding you,” you stammered, trying to hide your embarrassment. "It just happens." “Oh, I know. You’re trying to keep your cool, huh?” Logan’s voice dropped a little, teasing. “But these flowers sure are a giveaway.” Your feet were now covered in a carpet of white petals, the bright flowers seeming to mock your every move. You wanted to disappear, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to his attention. “You know, I think I’d like to see what happens if we keep talking,” Logan continued, stepping closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leaned down slightly, taking in the sight of your feet, the flowers blossoming like a spring garden in full bloom. “I’m warning you,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. The situation was too ridiculous, and yet, Logan’s presence was somehow reassuring. “If you keep teasing me, you’re going to be covered in flowers too.” Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips curling upward. “You think I’m scared of a few flowers, sweetheart? I’ve fought in wars, but nothing scares me more than a shy, flustered woman with flowers growing at her feet.” You rolled your eyes, trying not to let the heat creep up to your ears, but it was useless. The teasing was working, and you were getting more and more embarrassed by the second. “Fine,” Logan said suddenly, reaching behind him and pulling out a small bouquet of vibrant, wildflowers. “I figured I’d bring you some of your own kind.” He grinned like a cat who had just caught a mouse. You stared at him, wide-eyed. “You—brought me flowers?” “Yeah, figured it might get me some points,” he replied, his teasing tone softening just enough to show he was being sincere. “I might have teased you about these flowers, but I kind of like the way you make them grow.” He handed you the bouquet, his fingers brushing yours as he did, sending a spark of warmth through your chest. You took the flowers, your heart pounding, and glanced at Logan. “You’re really persistent, huh?” “I am,” he agreed with a wink. “But I like the challenge.” His smile widened as he stepped a little closer, his presence intoxicating. “So, how about we get away from this garden of yours and go grab dinner? Maybe you can show me what happens when we’re not standing around all awkward.” Your breath caught, and you almost wanted to say no, but the way his eyes were fixed on you made it impossible. “Are you asking me out?” He chuckled, low and rich, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Wouldn’t be much of a date if I didn’t.” “I don’t know, Logan…” You feigned hesitation, despite the butterflies swirling in your stomach. “I might get nervous again. And you might have to put up with more flowers.” “Then I’ll make sure we’re sitting somewhere with plenty of room for your garden to grow,” Logan teased back, his voice turning softer as his hand brushed against your cheek. “Just say yes, and I promise we’ll make it worth your while.” With a deep breath, you smiled, the air between you both thick with anticipation. “Alright, fine. Dinner sounds good.” Logan’s grin widened, and as he leaned in closer, you felt your heart race.

[seraphidae]

perfect example of movie magic: the hand towel on the oven handle falls down at the beginning of the clip, but the next zoomed out shot its back up on it. and its not because he picked it up while christine is talking, because she keeps making eye contact with matthew as she talks! but the scenes flow together so seamlessly you wouldnt be able to tell its from different takes-- wait. where are you going. no, no, no, this is interesting. listen, just hear me out,

[ivyues]

Unfiltered Beauty: Stray Kids' reactions to their S/O not wearing makeup often

Bang Chan

You sat on the couch in Chris’ studio, scrolling through your phone while he adjusted the levels on his track. You’d come straight from home in a hoodie, hair tied back, and no makeup on.

“Can you stop?” Chris suddenly said, leaning back in his chair.

“Stop what?” you asked, looking up at him in confusion.

“Being so distracting,” he said, smirking.

You furrowed your brow. “I’m literally sitting here doing nothing.”

“Exactly,” he replied, spinning his chair toward you. “You’re sitting there, looking all natural and gorgeous, and it’s ruining my focus.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “So, you’re saying I look better without makeup? That’s just a roundabout way of dissing my makeup skills.”

“No way!” he protested, leaning his elbow on the armrest of his chair as he grinned at you.. “Your makeup skills are great, but you don’t need them. You’re stunning just as you are.”

“Nice save,” you teased, laughing as his grin widened.

Lee Know

Lee Know leaned against the doorway, watching you on the floor surrounded by his beloved cats. You were wearing one of his oversized shirts, your hair loose, and your face completely bare. Dori lay sprawled in your lap, soaking up your affection, while Soonie eagerly chased the string you were wiggling.

“What?” you asked when you noticed him staring, your voice tinged with curiosity.

“You look so…at home,” he said softly, a smile tugging at his lips.

You looked down at his shirt, then at the cats. “Well, your clothes are comfy, and your cats worship me. What can I say? I fit right in.”

He chuckled, walking over to crouch next to you. His hand gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “No makeup, messy hair, and still managing to outshine everything in this room,” he murmured, his eyes warm as they met yours.

You smirked, leaning closer. “Even Dori?”

His lips twitched into a grin. “Okay, let’s not get carried away.” He pressed a quick kiss on your lips before scooping Dori off your lap. “But you’re definitely a close second.”

Changbin

Steam billowed out of the bathroom as you stepped into the bedroom, wrapped in a fluffy towel. Your damp hair fell over your shoulders, and your freshly scrubbed face glowed naturally. Changbin looked up from his phone and froze, his eyes lingering on you.

“What?” you asked, shifting under his gaze as you walked to the closet.

“Nothing,” he said, setting his phone aside. “I just realized something.”

You turned, curious. “What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear makeup around me,” he said thoughtfully, standing up and walking toward you.

You blinked. “Really? I mean, I only wear it for big events or when I’m feeling fancy. Otherwise, it’s too much work.”

His lips curved into a smile. “I like that. It feels like you’re showing me the most real version of yourself. That’s special.”

You softened at his words. “It’s not really a big deal, though.”

“It is to me,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. “You’re beautiful just the way you are. No makeup, no filters, just you.”

You smiled, leaning into his chest. “Thanks, Binnie. You’re pretty great, too.”

“Of course I am,” he teased. “But better get dressed before I spend the next hour telling you how amazing you are.”

Hyunjin

You walked out of your room wearing light makeup for a casual outing with Hyunjin. He looked up from his phone, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance.

“You’re wearing makeup?” he asked, standing up.

“Yeah, I felt like it today,” you replied, adjusting your jacket. “Why, does it look bad?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s just…you don’t usually wear it. It’s like seeing a rare art piece that’s been hidden in a museum vault.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Hyunjin.”

He grinned, stepping closer to study your face. “Maybe, but it’s true. You’re already a masterpiece, whether it’s painted or not.”

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re too much, you know that?”

“I know,” he said with a wink. “But you love me for it.”

Han

Han came home after a long day at the studio to find you in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you stirred something on the stove. You were wearing one of his hoodies, your face bare, and your hair in a messy bun.

“Hey,” he greeted, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

You turned your head to smile at him. “Hey, you’re home early.”

He rested his chin on your shoulder, inhaling the comforting scent of your shampoo. “You’re like a walking comfort zone.”

You chuckled. “Is that a compliment?”

“The best kind,” he said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “No makeup, no stress, just you being perfect.”

Felix

You were tying your sneakers, ready to head out for a quick grocery run with Felix. As you stood up, he glanced at you, his eyes lighting up.

“You’re not wearing makeup?” he asked, smiling softly.

“Do I need it for the groceries?” you teased, grabbing your bag.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I love that about you. You don’t feel like you need to impress anyone.”

“Well,” you said, bumping his shoulder playfully, “I still want to impress you.”

He reached for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “You already impress me every single day. Makeup or not, you’re perfect.”

Seungmin

Seungmin was scrolling through his phone while you cleaned up after dinner. He paused on a photo of you from a recent formal event and held it up.

“This one’s nice,” he said.

“Thanks,” you replied, glancing at the screen. “I did the makeup myself.”

He grinned mischievously. “It’s good.”

“Good? Just good?” you said, pretending to be offended, crossing your arms.

He chuckled, his gaze softening. “I mean, you don’t really need it. You look better without it anyway.”

You smirked, lightly slapping the back of his head with the towel. “You’re lucky I like you, Seungmin.”

I.N

You felt exhausted, so you put on a little makeup to cover up the dark circles under your eyes before your boyfriend came over. When he arrived, he tilted his head, studying your face.

“You’re wearing makeup?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” you admitted, rubbing your arm. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I'm feeling tired and didn’t want to look like it too.”

He stepped closer, gently taking your hands. “You don’t need this,” he said with a small smile. “I like you the way you are, even when you’re tired or feeling off. You’re always my favorite person.”

You felt your heart swell at his words. “Thanks, Jeongin.”

He grinned, squeezing your hands. “Now come on. Let’s watch a movie and relax. We can also take a nap if you want.”

masterlist

[chilling-seavey]

i have such a TWIG moment, George coming back from a double header race late in the evening and when he comes home he sees you in the kitchen tidying up, knowing your son is already in bed. but to his surprise he sees the barely visible baby bump you acquired over the two weeks

I love this sweet idea 🥹 call me picky about my timelines but baby2 would be doing most of her growing during winter break but lucky for your idea here, anon, Winterfest blurbs confirmed baby3 so 🤭 let's progress...

Warnings: Lighthearted banter about body changes

It still impressed you how you managed to wrangle two kids all on your own while George was away for race weekends, especially those multi-headers. Perhaps your two little blessings were just at that age now where they worked with you more than against you, but you still found yourself completely wiped at the end of the night. You silently praised the resilience of single parents.

Your third pregnancy—compared to your first two—was not planned, and maybe it was that deep-seeded truth that made that first trimester feel all the morning exhausting. More often than before, you were debating his suggestion to hire a nanny just to take the brunt of the work off of you when he was away. You had once been adamant that it wasn't what you wanted but, damn, you were seriously starting to count down the days until George was home.

The night he finally arrived home from a double header (you swore if it was a triple you might have lost your mind), it was well into the evening and the kids had already been put to bed. They had put up a bit of a fight, wanting to wait up until George got home, but you promised them he'd check on them and give them a kiss when he got home and that seemed to be enough to pacify them.

As you wiped down the counters from dinner, you noticed the headlights of his car pulling into the driveway through the kitchen window. You kept yourself busy as he parked and grabbed his bag from the trunk. You wanted to finish the chores so you could spend the remainder of the evening with him before your exhausted body would have you falling asleep at the drop of a hat.

And before you knew it, George was in the doorway to the kitchen, resting against the frame, arms crossed casually over his chest. You glanced over at him with a sweet smile, wringing out the cloth into the sink.

"Hi," you greeted softly.

"Hi," he echoed.

George pushed himself off the doorframe and strode over to you as you dried your damp hands on a tea towel and you turned to face him to accept his quick kiss to your lips. His homecoming was second nature to you now.

"Good flight?" you asked, dropping the towel onto the counter so you could drape your arms around his shoulders.

"Mm, fine," he answered absentmindedly, his hands settling on your hips and then moving around over the front of your robe. His fingers gently played over the fabric.

You stared at him for a moment like that, just taking him in in the warm light of the kitchen, even if he was more focused on his hands than your face. You were just glad to have him back in your arms.

Finally, as if explaining his momentary awe, he stated, "You popped since I've been gone, look at you."

You glanced down at yourself too, already having noticed the way your pants had been getting harder to do up and the fact that the fabric belt of your robe was tied in more of an awkward spot than normal to accommodate your rapidly changing body. With a small hum, you agreed, "It started fast. Took almost double this time to start showing with our little guy."

"What are we at now? Nine weeks?"

"Mhm."

"Wow."

"Big already, huh?"

George chuckled lowly, playing into your banter as he finally tore his eyes away from your stomach to look you in the eye, "You're gonna be massive, love."

"Jesus, George, thanks," you laughed before retaliating with a, "Only due to the fact that it's your big ass baby inside me."

His arms slid farther around your waist to pull your body flush against his and he smiled at your playfulness as he stared lovingly into your eyes, "And I'd put fifteen more inside you if I could."

"We agreed we'd stop at two," you reminded him with a poke to his chest but there was no true heat behind your words, "This third one was enough of a surprise as it is. The last thing we need is more."

"But you look so pretty," George moaned in dismay, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw, and he nipped at your earlobe. His breath fell warm against the shell of your ear, "And I can feel your little baby belly against me."

You giggled at his statement with your body pressed up snug against his, chest to chest. He smelt like airplane but the fading hints of his aftershave powered through and you ducked your nose right up under his jaw and just breathed him in. His hands slid down and gave your ass a squeeze over your robe.

After a moment of just holding each other, George took a half step back out of your embrace. You set your hands on the edge of the counter behind you and watched as his hands went back to the faint swell of your belly through the fabric of your robe. His fingers toyed with the belt before slowly pulling it undone.

"Sweetheart..." you chuckled faintly, moving a hand to grasp onto the front of your robe to keep it closed.

"Just want to look at you," he protested, lifting your hand up to kiss your knuckles before pulling open the front of your robe.

You watched his handsome face in silence, a fond smile on your face as he admired you in only your underwear in the middle of the darkened kitchen. The under-cabinet lighting created a soft, warm glow across the room and left both of you in long shadows. George still looked incredibly gorgeous...he always managed to look good, even after lengthy flights.

Just then, he crouched down onto the tile floor in front of you, splaying his hands over your bump, and he whispered to it softly, "Hey, little one. It's your daddy. You're growing so fast, aren't you?"

You smiled down at him and raked your fingers through his hair, your heart thudding in your chest at the sight of him like that. Watching him be a father was your greatest joy, and how blessed you were that life brought you him.

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[grimesproperty]

“ FRIENDS “

where you're a new kook at the boneyard. the pogues end up finding you all alone, especially a blonde-blue-eyed hot-tempered one.

jj maybank x reader

—

You're a kook, new to the outer banks, checking out the boneyard--littered with Pogues, Kooks, and tourons alike-- for the first time.

In the distance, JJ's busy surfing and hanging out with his friends, maneuvering along the crashing waves like it's second nature to him. Rays of the afternoon sun high in the sky are reflected onto the shimmering water, and the scent of seawater wafting by.

"Dude, check it out,' John B says to him, nodding over his shoulder in your direction. "A newbie."

"Looks like a tourist," Pope mutters. "What makes you so sure?" Sarah asks.

"Tourons always look lost. That's how you can tell them apart from Kooks and Pogues,' Pope responds crossing his arms. Meanwhile, JJ's gaze flicked over where you stood, his curiosity piqued as he observed you with a tilted head.

You were sitting on the sand, lying on top of your towel, a book in your hands and your bag placed next to you.

JJ watches you briefly, intrigued by your composure as you sit quietly, reading your book. He can't help but be intrigued by your arrival. "Hey, I'm gonna greet the new fish," He suddenly speaks up.

"Be careful," Kiara murmurs, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "I'll be on my best behavior," He replied with a cheeky grin.

Without wasting any more time, JJ stands up, patting the excess sand from his shorts. He approached with a casual air about him, his blue gaze fixed on you as he saunters up until he was just a few feet away from where you are sitting, hands in his pockets.

"Hey, you're new around, yeah?" He says conversationally, his eyes raking over you, "First time at the boneyard?" He stops a couple feet from you, a charming smile on his face.

You look up from your book, JJ's smile grows when you look up, his gaze taking in your facial features and your choice of clothes, mentally deducing whether you were a pogue, kook, or touron.

"Is it that obvious?" You said to him, jj cocks his head to the side, a flicker of humor in his eyes as he says, "Well you're not a kook, I can tell you that much. You look too... how'd I describe it.... too authentic. Which leads me to think you are either a pogue or a touron."

"Neither?" You answered confusingly, jj quirked an eyebrow at your response, perplexed by your answer. He glances around at his friends, who watch your conversation with curiosity and interest before looking back at you.

"Neither?" he questions, skepticism lacing his voice. "So, what are you then? A lost soul?"

"Nah, just moved here from New York." You replied to him with a small smile.

JJ let out a low whistle, a smirk on his lips. "From New York? What, did you get bored of the East Coast and decide to check out the south instead?"

You let out a laugh, and said to him "It's not so fun over there." JJ hums in response, shoving his hands in his short pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

"I can't admit it's any better here," He admits with a shrug, his smile growing sly, "Although it's bound to be with me and my friends around."

"It doesn't seem all too bad, even though I just moved here I don't really know anybody besides my family." You say to him, JJ's expression softens a little at your words, his eyes flickering with recognition--

"Yeah, that can't feel too great," he says, crossing his arms, "but what kind of person would I be if I let a new face be lonely around here?"

You shrugged at him with a smile. JJ returns your smile with a grin of his own, amused by your nonchalance to his remark. He glances at his friends, their eyes still on the two of you.

"Why don't you join us then?" He suggests, "I'm JJ by the way, and I can guarantee there's never a dull moment with the Pogues."

"I'm Y/n, it's nice to meet you JJ, short for??" You questioned, JJ chuckled at your question, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. "Short for Jackson," He answers his smile still in place. "But JJ's more badass than Jackson, don't ya think?"

"Agreed." You replied, "You got a decent taste," he comments, his eyes sparkling with approval. "So, what do you say Y/n? Ready to meet the crew?"

"Are you sure they won't mind me you know..." You said looking over to where the group of pogues were standing in the water with their surfboards.

"Nah, they won't mind," He reassures you, waving a hand. "They'd be idiots if they did anyway," He gestures towards the group with a nudge of his head. "Come on, let's go. I'll introduce ya."

"Alright, I guess..." You said as you got up.

--

Over time, you become an integral part of the pogue group, spending countless hours laughing, joking, and exploring the beaches with them. You feel a strong bond with each one of them, and they consider you one of their own now. They tell you everything and include you in all their plans and shenanigans.

Meanwhile, you had gotten a job at the wreck which has become a second home to you. You've made good friends with everyone there, including regular customers.

Throughout your time as Pogue, you particularly grew close to jj. The two of you quickly became best friends, spending more and more time together, and sharing secrets and confiding in each other.

Behind the scenes, you harbored secret feelings for him, though you kept it to yourself, not wanting to ruin the strong friendship you'd built.

Jj on the other hand, seemed blissfully unaware of your hidden feelings, his actions consistently sending mixed signals. His casual touches which seemed intimate, the way he always found excuses to be near you, the subtle flirting--

all of it seemed genuine and unintentional, yet it only served to confuse your emotions even more.

Every time he touched you, smiled at you or made flirty comments, your heart would pound, and butterflies would flutter in your stomach, but you tried your best to keep your cool and maintain the friendship. As much as you wanted to show some concrete interest, you also feared rejection.

You found yourself caught in a constant battle between holding on to the precious friendship you shared and securely hoping for it to turn into something more.

Things then suddenly came to a halt when you found yourself in a new relationship with a kook. Despite your lingering feelings for jj, you chose to move on and give this new relationship a chance.

However, JJ wasn't thrilled about it. He made it clear he didn't approve of your kook boyfriend, but he never outright said why.

As you began dating him, you noticed a growing distance between you and JJ. He wasn't as friendly or casual with you anymore, and he often seemed grumpy and irritable around you.

This shift in your JJ's behavior only confused and hurt you even more. You had no idea why he was acting this way, and you missed the closeness and comfort you two once shared. As you grew distant from jj, your feelings resurfaced, and your new relationship--

paled in comparison to what you felt for him. You couldn't help but wonder if there was more to JJ's reaction than he was letting on.

--

As you approached the Chateau, the sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful glow over the surroundings. You could see John B and jj on their boat, which was tied up at the dock.

They were both sitting in the boat, deep in conversation. not noticing your arrival yet.

You paused, uncertainty and nervousness coursing through you. You didn't know if it was the right time to approach them. Maybe they needed some time alone, or perhaps you were intruding.

Your mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts, causing brief hesitation. Thats when you finally got the courage and made your way over to them onto the dock. "Hey you two!" you called out.

John B and jj, in the middle of their conversation, looked up as they heard your voice. John B flashed a friendly smile, while JJ's expression remained stoic and unreadable, his usual grin nowhere in sight.

You couldn't help but feel a pang in your chest as you saw JJ's stoic expression. It was different from his friendly grins and casual banter he greeted you with. A small part of you hoped to see his familiar smile, but alas, it was no where in sight.

"Kiara told me to meet you guys here," You said to them. John B nods gesturing for you to come closer. "Yeah, we were just talking about the party tonight."

Meanwhile, JJ remains a bit distant, his arms crossed and his expression still lacking the usual warmth.

"She's not here yet?" You asked John b, he shook his head, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. "No, she said she was on her way. You know she's always late."

You made an 'oh, I know.' expression on your face, "yeah, you're right about that," you said agreeing. John B chuckles, clearly used to Kiara's tardiness by now, but JJ remains quiet. He seems a bit withdrawn, his hands clenching the edge of the boat slightly.

"So boneyard tonight, huh?" you said trying to make conversation. John b nods, his eyes looking out over the water.

"yeah, most likely, just the usual crew and other people," John B says, jj remains silent, but there's a tinge of irritation in his eyes. He seems uncomfortable with this conversation for some reason.

"Your boyfriend gonna be there tonight with his slick back and kook friends?" John B teased you, his comment about your boyfriend only seems to further irritate jj and he scowls slightly.

You can see his grip on the edge of the boat tighten, his knuckles turning white. "I don't know, I haven't talked to him today, " you replied to John B tearing your gaze away from JJ.

"Yeah, he's probably got more important things to do with fellow kooks, " John B comments, clearly still enjoying teasing you.

JJ lets out a scoff, his irriation growing, he muttered under his breath, "More like he's too busy stroking his ego."

John B grins at jj’s comment, finding it amusing, but you can see it only serves to irritate JJ even more. A tense silence hangs heavily in the air, the awkwardness between you and JJ almost palpable.

You roll your eyes at JJ's attitude, "Hey John B can you give us a minute to talk real quick?" you say turning to him. John B raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension between you and JJ for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, sure I'll go check on Pope and Sarah." He says before he gets up from the boat and walks away, leaving you alone with JJ. Now you two sitting alone on the boat, jj still has his arms crossed and his face expressionless.

The silence between you two becomes even more intense as the sun continues to sink below the horizon.

You finally speak up, "Okay. Im getting sick of this shit, Seriously what's your problem?!" you say your voice coming out harsher than you expected.

JJ's eyes snap up to meet yours, He looks surprised by your confrontational tone, but after a moment, he lets out a scoff. "What, I'm not allowed to have a problem now?"

"Not if you don't communicate what your deal is with me, then yes!" You snap back at him, JJ's expression hardens further, defensiveness seeping into his voice-

"You're the one to talk about communication. You've been avoiding me since you got that kook boyfriend of yours."

You let out a disbeliefed laugh, "Are you serious right now?" you said to him. JJ's expression remains unchanged, his irritation flaring up. "Yeah, I'm serious. Do you think I haven't noticed how distant you've been since that guy came into the picture? Don't act all innocent now."

You stood up now from where you were sitting, "You've been avoiding me, ever since I started seeing him! You claim you don't like him because he's a kook! But is that really the only reason?!" you paused before finishing what you had to say. "You're my best friend jay. It's not fucking nice seeing you be like this to me for no reason! when I've done nothing but always be fucking there for you!"

You shouted at him, your voice cracking a bit at the raw emotions you let out. "I'm done with this shit." You said as u began to walk off the boat.

JJ watches you as you walk off the boat, his expression wavering between surprise and frustration. He opens his mouth as he wants to say something, but no words come out.

He grips the edge of the boat even tighter, his jaw clenched and knuckles changing colors. The sound of your footsteps grows faint as you walk away, leaving jj alone on the boat.

He lets out a huff, frustrated and conflicted, the boat creaking softly beneath him.

part two here

[cressidagrey]

The moment I could see it - Part 1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: 5 Times that Gianpiero Lambiase thinks that Ariel Cane and Max Verstappen are weirdly similar…and 1 time he is just happy that the two of them are no longer pining after each other. 

Warnings: 

GP's POV, mention of cancer, mention of parent's death

Author Notes: I am back to my old tricks...which means I write from the most random of POV's just because. (I once wrote a chapter from a dog's POV so like, GP doesn't even really count.

The very first time Gianpiero Lambiase met Ariel Cane, it was a quiet summer evening in August 2015. 

He had just gotten home from the Belgian GP…and he and his wife Laura had finally closed on a house in Milton Keynes. 

A charming red brick two story, with a bright blue front door, at the end of a quiet street with patch of a garden. Less than 5 minutes away by foot from the Factory and near a daycare for Francesca, their daughter. 

The knock at the door was unsurprising because GP had just ordered Chinese takeout…

But when he opened the door…it wasn’t a delivery driver. 

No, instead there was a teenage girl on his doorstep. With a cloud of bright red hair, a dimpled smile and Tupperware box of… something in her hands that she thrust at him. 

“Welcome to the neighbourhood!” she told him brightly. “I am Ariel. We live in the house with the red front door. I made you some cookies!”

This was the last thing he had expected. 

Actually, he could just stare at her for a moment, while Francesca happily clapped in her hands. 

GP couldn’t help but chuckl as his young daughter reached towars Ariel's hair, her tiny hands grasping air as he pulled her back. The toddler's babbling, "Red! Red! Red!" seemed to break the awkward silence that had settled between them.

"Thank you," he managed to say, his voice roughened by laughter. "That's very kind of you. I'm Gianpiero, and this little one is Francesca."

Ariel’s smile seemed to brighten at the introduction. “It’s nice to meet you. And you too!” she chirped to Francesca, whose little face was peering over her father’s shoulder, still trying to grab her hair.

Gianpiero balanced his daughter on his hip, still a little bemused by the whole situation. With Francesca squirming in his arms, he shifted the Tupperware box under one arm and extended his free hand. "Thank you for the cookies," he said graciously, glancing at the contents of the box.

They looked delicious, that was for sure. Freshly baked and still warm from the oven.

"Did you make these yourself?" he asked wracking his head to come up with something to say. 

Ariel nodded enthusiastically, that sunny smile never fading. "Yep!" she confirmed, as his daughter started babbling ‘cookie’ repeatedly, trying to reach for the box. "I love baking! My mum…she taught me how."

GP hummed in acknowledgement, carefully keeping the Tupperware out of Francesca's reach. He wouldn't put it past his daughter to snatch the cookies and try to eat them all on her own.

His gaze returned to Ariel, taking in the girl's bright, cheerful demeanour. She couldn't be more than…17 or 16, her limbs not having lost their coltish length, but there was a maturity in her eyes.

"You're very young to be baking cookies for neighbours," he remarked, hoping it didn't sound like a criticism.

Ariel just shrugged nonchalantly. "I just wanted to make a good impression," she said casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world for a teenager to bake cookies for total strangers.

GP’s amused surprise only grew.

"And you certainly have," he assured her, fighting a smile as his daughter kept trying to snatch the box of cookies. "Not many teenagers would take the time to bake for the new neighbours."

He managed to move the box successfully out of view from Francesca, who then started complaining loudly.

Loudly enough that it pulled his wife’s attention.

The commotion had brought Laura to the doorway, drying her hands on a towel. As soon as she appeared, Francesca instantly held her arms out to her, wanting her mother instead of her father.

Laura chuckled, taking Francesca into her arms and kissing the top of her head. The toddler immediately quieted down, clutching at her mother's shirt.

"What's going on here?" Laura asked, gazing quizzically at their new neighbour.

GP chuckled and held up the Tupperware box as explanation.

"Apparently, we're being welcomed to the neighbourhood with cookies."

Laura’s expression softened, an amused smile on her lips. "That’s so sweet," she said brightly, her free hand coming to gently ruffle Francesca’s hair.

"Ariel Cane," Ariel introduced herself. "My dad, my sister and I live to your right, in the house with the red door," she explained.

Laura smiled, shifting Francesca to her other hip as the toddler reached up to tug at her hair.

"It's nice to meet you, Ariel," she said, the Tupperware box in GP’s hand momentarily forgotten. "I'm Laura."

"Nice to meet you," Ariel said back, then flashed a smile at the little girl on her mother's hip. "And you too!" Francesca let out a giggle and stuck her tongue out at the new neighbour.

Laura chuckled, gently catching Francesca's hand and pulling it down from her hair.

"I just wanted to say welcome to the neighbourhood," Ariel said quietly. "And if there are any stray cats running around, don’t be surprised! Mrs. Higgins, she lived here before, she used to feed them," she explained.

There it was again, that surprising maturity in her voice.

GP and Laura exchanged a glance, still baffled by the fact that a teenage girl had come to their door with baked cookies in hand.

“That’s very kind of you,” GP said. “We’ll certainly keep that in mind.”

"Just bring back the tupperware whenever," Ariel said brightly. "If I am not there, my father's healthcare aid is there, so somebody will probably answer the door."

"And let me know if you ever need a babysitter. I have a younger sister so I am well-versed. And Francesca is adorable," she offered brightly. "I am sorry, I need to get back...Gloria's shift is ending..." she trailed off for a moment. "Ah...and if you ever see a ambulance parked in front of our house, don't worry, it's for our dad...he has cancer, so..."

GP’s expression immediately softened. The mention of her father's condition hung awkwardly in the air, the cheerful atmosphere dampening slightly.

Laura was the first to speak, reaching out to gently touch the girl’s shoulder.

"I’m sorry to hear that," she said softly, genuine sympathy in her voice.

"I hope he'll be alright," GP added, shifting the Tupperware box in his hand.

Ariel's expression didn’t change, but it was clear that the topic of her father’s health was a sensitive one. She forced a smile to her lips, although it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Yeah...he will," she said, her voice just a tad brittle.

The silence that followed was awkward and thick, none of them quite knowing what to say.

It was Francesca who broke the tension, letting out a soft whine at the lack of attention. Laura gently shushed the little girl, before once again addressing Ariel.

"Thank you again for the cookies," she said kindly. "It was lovely meeting you, Ariel."

"It was lovely meeting you both," Ariel replied, her usual cheer returning to her voice. "And you too, Francesca!"

The toddler giggled and made a grab for the bright red hair again. Laura pulled her hand off gently, chuckling.

"Goodbye," Ariel said with a final wave, before turning around and quickly heading back to her own house.

GP and Laura watched her go, both of them quietly contemplating the girl’s words. Her father’s illness suddenly put everything into a different perspective.

Laura let out a soft sigh, readjusting her grip on Francesca.

"That poor girl…"

GP nodded in agreement, the Tupperware box seemingly heavier in his hand than it had been a few minutes ago.

"It must be tough," he mused, turning the corner of his mouth down. “Caring for your dad, while still being so young…”

"And a younger sister, don't forget that," Laura added. "Did she say anything about her mother?"

GP paused, thinking back to the earlier conversation. “Just that her mother taught her how to bake,” he said after a moment, a small frown on his face. “I guess she’s not in the picture, maybe?”

“Maybe a single dad, raising them by himself,” Laura said with a soft sigh, one of her hands gently tousling Francesca’s brown locks.

The toddler let out a little grumble, turning her head away from the touch.

“And taking care of him as well,” GP shook his head. “It’s a lot for someone so young to handle.”

There was a heavy silence as they both silently commiserated over the girl’s situation. GP let out a soft exhale, shifting the Tupperware box to his other hand.

“I hope her dad gets better soon,” he said quietly. “For her sake, more than anyone else’s.”

It took him two days to convince himself that it wouldn’t be weird to bring back the Tupperware – and he certainly wasn’t just using it as an excuse to check in on the girl. 

So he found himself walking up the path to the red front door, the Tupperware box in hand.

He knocked on the door, the Tupperware feeling heavy in his hand. After a moment, he could hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching the door. The door was opened by another red-headed girl, nearly identically to her older sister other than the colour of her eyes. Her were dark brown, her sisters were blue.

"Can I help you`?" she asked him, her eyebrows furrowing. 

GP found himself momentarily taken aback by the unexpected sight of the younger sister. 

"Ah, yes," he said, quickly recovering from the surprise. "I'm returning these," he said, holding up the Tupperware for her to see.

The girl, who he assumed was Ariel's little sister, stared at him through the crack of the front door with a cautious expression. She was clearly assessing him, trying to determine if he posed a threat or not.

"ARIEL!" she screamed loudly.

"Em, be quiet," came Ariel's voice, worried. "Dad just fell asleep. Don't wake him, please."

Gianpiero tried not to chuckle. He was getting the distinct impression the little sister was rather fierce.

Ariel appeared behind her younger sibling seconds later, her eyes lighting up with recognition as she spotted him on the doorstep.

"Hello, Mr. Lambiase!" she chirped with a smile. Her cheerful greeting made him chuckle.

"You can just call me GP," he said. He held up the Tupperware in his hand again. "I just wanted to return this."

"Oh, right," she chimed, reaching for the Tupperware. As she did so, her little sister, Em, gave him a suspicious look, still standing by the door.

Gianpiero found himself amused by the girl’s distrust. She seemed rather protective.

"Thanks," Ariel said as she accepted the Tupperware from him. She gave him another smile.

Meanwhile, Em was still standing a few steps behind, eyeing him intently. Gianpiero caught her gaze and gave her a small, friendly wave.

“And who’s this?” he asked, nodding towards the younger girl.

Ariel glanced back at her sister, who was still staring at him with an almost suspicious expression. She didn’t seem quite as sunny and cheerful as her older sister.

Ariel sighed softly.

"This is my little sister, Emma," she introduced the girl, who just continued staring at him without saying a word.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, addressing Emma directly. “Your sister made some really nice cookies.”

"I know," Emma said seriously. "Ariel makes the best cookies. They taste just like Mom's used to."

Ariel winced ever so slightly, though her smile stayed firmly in place. It was obvious that their mother was a sensitive topic for them.

"Well,” GP said lightly, not wanting to linger on the subject, "they were delicious."

He cast a subtle glance towards Ariel, noticing the way her smile seemed a fraction more brittle.

This poor family really had been through so much, and the kids were paying the price.

"Girls, who is at the door?" the voice was croaky. The man that belonged it to...didn't look very well at all.

His complexion was wan and drawn, and he seemed to be struggling to keep himself upright. Whatever illness he was suffering from was clearly taking a toll.

"Dad you are supposed to rest," Ariel said quickly, abandoning the door, to rush to her father's side.

The man waved a hand at her, a look of determined stubbornness on his face.

"I'm fine," he insisted, despite the fact his voice was croaky and he could barely stand.

"Dad,” Ariel protested, catching him as he stumbled slightly. GP instinctively took a step forward, ready to assist if he needed to.

The father tried to bat her hands away, but his movements were weak and shaky.

"I’m fine," he repeated, albeit unconvincingly. "Stop fussing."

Ariel looked like she wanted to protest again, but instead helped him hobble back into the house, gently but firmly keeping an arm around him to prevent him from falling.

Ariel let out a sigh of annoyance as her father continued to insist he was fine. Clearly, this was a familiar argument.

"You’re not fine," she scolded, supporting him by the arm to prevent him from falling. "You need to rest."

The man opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, he was overcome by a racking coughing fit. GP winced in sympathy, watching as the man struggled to catch his breath.

Ariel’s expression darkened with worry, her grip on her father’s arm tightening.

The coughing fit ended as suddenly as it came, leaving the poor man looking even more feeble than before.

"Who's that?" he managed to croak, his eyes half-lidded and weary.

Ariel looked back towards GP, a slight look of concern on her face. She was clearly reluctant leave her father’s side, but also didn’t want to be rude to him.

Before she could respond, Gianpiero decided to answer for himself. “I’m Gianpiero Lambiase. We just moved in next door,” he said, keeping his voice gentle.

The man's expression turned into one of realization as he pieced the information together. He let out a weak chuckle, which turned into a cough again.

"Ah, the new neighbours," he rasped hoarsely. "I remember my girls mentioning you. I’m Paul Cane."

Gianpiero smiled at the introduction, though it quickly faded at the sight of the man's ill state. His eyes were sunken and weary, the skin around them drawn with exhaustion and pain.

"It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Cane," he said, his voice low and kind.

Arthur nodded in acknowledgement, though any attempt at a proper greeting was cut off by another coughing fit.

GP fought the urge to wince; the man’s ragged coughing sounded downright painful.

Ariel, meanwhile, continued to support her father, but her eyes were filled with worry. She looked so young and so concerned, it was heart wrenching to see.

The coughing subsided once again just as quickly as it had come, though it left Paul even more breathless than before. He leaned heavily on his daughter, looking as if he was going to pass out.

Ariel’s grip on her father tightened, her expression one of both worry and frustration. "You need to go back to bed, Dad," she pleaded.

"I’m fine," Paul tried to protest again, but his weak voice betrayed any attempt at bravado. He was clearly struggling, even though he refused to admit it.

Ariel, however, was not having it. "Dad, you're not fine, and you know it," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "You need to rest or you’re going to make yourself even worse."

"i just wanted to bring back the Tupperware. Your daughter made some amazing cookies," GP said quickly.

Despite the fact that Paul was clearly struggling, he managed a weak attempt at a smile.

"Ah...yeah, my girls are great with baking," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "They take after their mother, she was a great cook..."

Ariel flinched at the mention of her mother, her expression darkening.

GP was quick to notice the look on Ariel’s face, and the way she tensed. It was clear that the topic of their mother was a sensitive one.

He shifted uncomfortably, not entirely sure how to navigate this particular subject.

Paul didn’t seem to notice his daughter’s reaction, instead, he turned his attention back to GP.

"Thank you for returning the Tupperware," he managed to say, his voice still weak.

GP nodded, sympathetic. "No problem," he said quietly. His eyes flicked to Ariel again, wondering how all of this must be affecting her and her younger sister. They were both so young, dealing with so much.

"Well, I should get going," he said carefully. "If there is anything I can do to help, just...ring the doorbell?" he offered questioningly.

Paul nodded faintly in response, though it was a gesture that clearly took a lot out of him. "Yeah...yeah, sure," he rasped hoarsely, before lapsing into another coughing fit.

Ariel shot a grateful look at GP, mouthing the words 'thank you' before redirecting her attention to her father, who was leaning heavily on her.

GP took a step back, knowing they had bigger things to worry about than him.

"Take care," he said earnestly. "And please...try to take care of yourself," he added, aiming the comment towards Paul.

This defineitly didn't put his neighbours out of his mind. Actually the exact opposite.

He thought about himself at 17. He couldn't have shouldered that kind of responsibility that Ariel Cane.

But then he thought about the other 17 year old that he had interacted with lately. Whereas Ariel Cane seemingly was mature beyond her years, unwilling to take any risks...Max Verstappen had spent his weekend in Belgium pulling a hat trick on Felipe Nasr and giving everybody on the paddock grey hairs for deciding that overtaking somebody around Blanchimont was clearly something that he could do.

The worst part was actually that he had shown that it was very much possible.

GP had to admit, he couldn't help but chuckle as he thought of the young driver's audacious move.

Max Verstappen was an extremely talented boy, but he certainly wouldn't win any awards for caution or restraint anytime soon.

In some ways seemingly the exact opposite of Ariel...but then they were both clearly having to shoulder a whole lot more responsibility than GP ever had needed to at this age.

The stark difference between how the two teens lived their lives – the cautious, responsible Ariel Cane who took on the role of adult-caretaker in her family to such a degree that it bordered on concerning, and the reckless 17-year-old racing driver Max Verstappen who seemed to have absolutely no fear or restraint for the risks he was taking – provided a rather interesting contrast.

GP couldn't help but compare them in his mind, and it was striking how differently they approached life despite both having to deal with burdens beyond their years.

The more he thought about it, the more he couldn't shake the image of the two of them. They were both 17, yet they seemed a whole world apart.

[zaczenemiji]

Beach, Please

Tabito Karasu x Reader

Part 2 of Just Keep Swimming

Synopsis: Karasu finds himself enjoying the beach trip more than he expected.

Word Count: 2.1k

MASTERLIST

True to form, Karasu looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, his arms crossed and his eyes scanning the area with barely concealed disdain.

“This place is a mess,” he muttered. “Sand everywhere, kids screaming. Why did I let you talk me into this again?”

“Like I said, you love me,” you replied with a grin, tugging on his wrist as you led him deeper into the beach. “And you’re secretly looking forward to seeing what I’d wear.”

He scoffed, but the faint twitch of his lips gave him away, “Debatable.”

You found a spot near the water but far enough from the crowd to satisfy Karasu’s need for “acceptable personal space.” Even then, he wasn’t satisfied.

“That family’s umbrella is blocking the breeze,” he pointed out, gesturing to the bright blue monstrosity a few feet away. “And look at that guy. He’s setting up his towel crooked. How hard is it to align it with the shore?”

You plopped your bag down and shot him an amused look, “Tabito, it’s a beach, not a lab. Not everything has to be perfect.”

“That’s the problem with society,” he grumbled, setting down the cooler he insisted on carrying. “People accept mediocrity.”

After setting up, you shed your cover-up, revealing the bathing suit you’d carefully picked for the day.

Karasu’s sharp gaze flicked to you immediately, his usual calm veneer slipping. His mouth opened like he had something to say, but then he snapped it shut, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed hard.

He wasn’t sure where to look—his gaze darted briefly to your legs, then to your shoulders, before locking onto your face with an intensity that made your cheeks warm.

Karasu’s mind raced. He’d seen you dressed up before—in gym clothes, casual outfits, even formal attire—but this? It’s different in a way that made him momentarily forget how to string a coherent thought together.

“Something wrong?” you teased, clearly noticing the way his eyes lingered despite his attempts to play it cool.

Karasu’s pride kicked in like second nature, masking his flustered thoughts as he turned away.

“No,” he said, trying to keep his tone nonchalant. “Just wondering if this is another one of your tricks to make me look like a fool.”

But even as he spoke, he felt the heat creeping up his neck. He shoved his hands into his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting, his mind betraying him with thoughts he’d never admit aloud.

You stepped closer, brushing a speck of sand from his shoulder, and he caught a faint whiff of your sunscreen. His pulse quickened, and he cursed internally at how effortlessly you got under his skin.

He didn’t know whether to feel annoyed, impressed, or something else entirely.

One thing was certain, though: if anyone else so much as looked at you the wrong way today, they’d have to deal with him.

You leaned close to give him a peck on his warm cheek as you linked your arm with his, pulling him towards the water. He followed reluctantly, muttering complaints under his breath

“This water better not be freezing,” he said, dipping a toe in like it might bite him.

“It’s perfect,” you reassured him, stepping in without hesitation. “Come on, you survived swimming lessons. This is no different.”

Karasu scoffed, “It’s completely different. There are waves. Unpredictable variables.”

“Tabito,” you said, smirking over your shoulder. “If you spent half as much energy relaxing as you do complaining, you’d probably be enjoying yourself by now.”

He gave you a flat look but followed you in, stopping when the water reached his waist, “This is as far as I’m going.”

“Suit yourself,” you said with a shrug, diving into an oncoming wave. When you resurfaced, your hair slicked back and droplets glistening on your skin, you caught Karasu watching you.

You swam back to him, splashing water lightly in his direction, “You know, for someone great at everything, you’re kind of a chicken about waves.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not a chicken. I just don’t see the point in—”

Another splash cut him off as you grinned mischievously, “Oops. My hand slipped.”

“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk. Before you could react, he scooped up a handful of water and sent it your way.

The splash war that ensued was chaotic and loud, with Karasu eventually catching you and pulling you under in retaliation.

“Here comes the fun part,” you said, your excitement evident as you gestured toward the larger waves rolling in from the deeper part of the ocean.

“Your version of ‘fun’ always seems to involve me risking my life.”

You laughed, grabbing his hand to pull him forward, “Come on, you big baby.”

He sighed, allowing himself to be led. Karasu glanced back at the shore, his usual sharp confidence faltering just slightly.

“So what am I supposed to do when this thing comes for me?” he asked, eyeing the incoming wave like it owed him money.

“Simple,” you said, grinning up at him. “When the wave gets close, you jump. The water will lift you, and then you just land back on your feet.”

The first wave rolled toward you, small but steady, and you turned to him with an encouraging smile.

“Ready? Jump!”

You both leaped as the wave reached you. The water lifted you off your feet for a brief moment before setting you back down gently. You turned to see Karasu with a faintly surprised look on his face.

“That… wasn’t terrible,” he admitted begrudgingly, shaking his hair out like a wet crow.

The next few waves grew larger, and with each one, Karasu’s movements became more natural. His initial hesitation faded as he began to anticipate the timing of the waves.

Wave after wave, the two of you jumped and laughed, the salty air filling with your playful splashes. Despite his earlier protests, Karasu was clearly enjoying himself.

The waves had calmed to a gentle rhythm as the two of you drifted in the shallows. Both of you were breathing hard from the constant jumping and splashing, your laughter still lingering in the salty air.

“Okay,” you said, leaning your head back to catch your breath. “I think I need a break.”

Karasu smirked, running a hand through his soaked hair to push it back from his face, “Tapping out already? I was just getting started.”

You rolled your eyes, wading toward him, “Oh, please. I saw you gasping for air after that last wave.”

“Did not,” he shot back, though the slight huff in his voice betrayed him.

“You did,” you teased, poking his chest lightly.

Instead of firing back, he reached out and tugged you closer, his arms slipping around your waist. The sound of the waves seemed to fade as you felt his grip tighten slightly, his body warm against yours even in the cool water.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, swaying gently in the water as the ocean whispered around you as you rested your head against his shoulder.

“As much as I’d love to stay like this, I’m starving,” you said after a while.

The cool water slid off your skin as you emerged from the waves, your hair clinging damply to your shoulders. You squinted against the sun, brushing stray droplets from your arms while making your way to the picnic blanket you’d set up earlier.

Karasu was still behind you, wading slowly out of the water. He wasn’t in any hurry, enjoying the lull of the waves, until he noticed a group of guys lounging nearby, their eyes glued to you as you walked.

His sharp blue gaze narrowed.

The boys weren’t even subtle about it. One nudged his friend, who muttered something with a smirk, his eyes trailing after you.

Karasu’s jaw clenched.

You, oblivious to their attention, were busy setting out the food. Karasu, on the other hand, was striding purposefully toward the shore now, his wet hair sticking to his forehead and water dripping from his toned frame.

The guys didn’t notice him at first, too busy gawking at you. But when Karasu reached you, his arm looped firmly around your waist before you could even react.

“Babe,” you said, startled as he pulled you against him. “What—”

He didn’t answer right away, his attention locked on the group of boys. His sharp, territorial glare cut straight through them, making it abundantly clear that they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Take a picture,” Karasu said coldly, his voice calm but laced with venom. “It’ll last longer.”

The boys froze, clearly caught off guard by his presence. One of them muttered something under his breath, and another laughed nervously, but none of them dared to meet Karasu’s piercing stare for long.

Satisfied that his message had been received, Karasu finally turned his attention to you.

“Everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head in confusion.

“Fine,” he said, his tone softer now as he released you, though his hand still lingered on your waist. “Just making sure no one gets any ideas.”

You followed his gaze, realizing for the first time what had happened. “Oh,” you said, biting back a smile. “Were they…?”

Karasu scoffed, running a hand through his wet hair, “Idiots. Acting like they’ve never seen a girl before.”

“Well,” you said playfully, leaning closer to him, “Cab you blame them? I am wearing a very cute swimsuit.”

His eyes flicked to you briefly, his lips twitching into a faint smirk, “Yeah, you are. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re up for grabs.”

After finishing your meal, you and Karasu decided to grab some ice pops from a nearby beachside vendor.

Maybe it was the heat, or maybe you were just distracted by the way Karasu’s tongue flicked over his ice pop but you didn’t notice the melted droplets running down the stick of yours until it was too late.

A cold trickle slid down your chest, making you gasp. “Ah—” you exclaimed, looking down to see a streak of bright red liquid trailing down your chest and another drop landing on your thigh.

Karasu’s sharp gaze darted to you immediately. He sighed, setting his own popsicle aside to grab the napkin he’d tucked into the cooler earlier.

Before you could protest, he crouched beside you, dabbing gently at the sticky streak on your chest. The heat in your cheeks rose as his fingers brushed against your skin.

He finished wiping your chest, then turned his attention to your thigh. His hand rested lightly on your knee as he used the napkin to clean the stray droplet there.

You froze slightly at the contact, and he noticed, pausing to glance up at you. “Relax. I’m just cleaning up,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

When he was satisfied with his work, he straightened up, tossing the napkin into the trash bag.

For the rest of the day, the two of you spent the time enjoying the water together. Despite his earlier complaints, Karasu loosened up as the day went on. By the time you returned to the shore, both of you were sun-kissed.

As the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you and Karasu walked hand in hand along the shoreline.

Every so often, he’d pull you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head or resting his chin on your shoulder.

The once-crowded beach had thinned out, leaving behind a peaceful quiet interrupted only by the soft crash of waves and the occasional call of seagulls.

“Today wasn’t so bad, was it?” you asked softly, your eyes fixed on the endless stretch of ocean before you.

“Speak for yourself,” he replied, his tone teasing. “I’m going to be scrubbing sand out of my shoes for days.”

You laughed, leaning into him as the two of you strolled along the water’s edge, “Admit it. You had fun.”

Karasu stopped walking, tugging you gently toward him. His free hand came up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his blue eyes softly meeting yours.

“You looked happy today,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down to your cheek. “I liked seeing that.”

“You’re the reason why,” you replied honestly, your heart skipping a beat at the way his gaze softened further.

He slid his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. His touch was warm and grounding, a stark contrast to the cool breeze brushing against your skin.

The two of you stood there for a while, swaying gently as the waves rolled in and out around your ankles.

As the sky shifted to twilight, he finally broke the comfortable silence. “Thanks for dragging me here,” he said softly, his voice almost lost in the sound of the waves.

Karasu turned to face you fully. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

“You make all of this worth it.”

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Karasu works

@anglefish3008 @sundaestuffy @oreopoodle @tsukiiis-stuff

[viceroywrites]

liquor on your lips (2/2)

you met stan pines on your first day working at the dead end motel.

in just a week, you were addicted to him.

mullet stan x gn!reader

part one here

inspired by you can be the boss by lana del rey

cw: smut ahead, praise, dirty talking, creampie

taglist: @autistic-rainbow

I saved it, I waited, I called it.

Your shift at the bar was closing up, leaning over to wipe down the counter and grabbing the tip jar to see how you did for the day.

Thumbing through the dollar bills, you tap them on the table to straighten them out before opening your bag to toss them inside before pausing at the sight of the cigarette that you had tossed inside the evening prior.

‘Give it a call when you get off tomorrow and let me know.’

Should you do it?

You should be happy, elated even that you have this opportunity to spend more time with the man that had charmed you in a matter of days.

Your interactions with Stan thus far had been fairly casual in nature. 

Sure, there was a lot of banter and playful flirting that happened every night but going on what essentially was a date seemed like a huge step.

A step you were uncertain about taking given the fact that at any given moment, Stan could up and leave.

You toss the wad of cash into your bag, deciding that the issue could wait at least until you get home and take a nice long shower to worry about.

Back at the motel, Stan twirls the extension cord of the phone mindlessly while he lies in bed. His eyes flicker to the phone every so often as he scratches his stomach, still in his white undershirt and boxers.

What the hell was he thinking offering his number to you?

Was he that lonely?

Stan sits up, deciding he needed a smoke break to clear his head and at least get out of limbo. He slips on his jeans from the night prior and grabs the room key and his pack of cigarettes, stepping out. 

Leaning against the wall, one foot propped up, he lights the cigarette that dangles from his lips, feeling the harsh smoke fill his lungs before exhaling it out. Reaching up to brush his long strands of hair out of his eyes, Stan winces as his knuckles graze against the cut that is a reminder of last night’s events.

“Shit…” He hisses under his breath, cigarette resting between his fingers as the dull ache creeps up. Stan clenches his jaw, trying to ignore the pain while he takes another drag from his cigarette. Glancing at the window outside his room, he sees his reflection.

The heavy, dark circles under his eyes show his fatigue.

The five o'clock shadow across his chin, not able to afford a proper razor in ages.

The chocolate brown hair atop his head grown out into a mullet, much to his chagrin.

His eyes, almost blood-shot, looked drained of hope.

The definition of exhaustion stared back at him. 

Man, he was tired of running.

That first day when you had offered to pay for his room, the first night in ages that he was able to lay his head on a pillow and get some rest, you gave him something he had been longing for in ages.

Stability.

A helping hand.

Suddenly the sound of the phone ringing cuts through his thoughts. Stan scrambles to unlock the door, practically leaping onto the mattress as his hand removes the phone from its receiver.

“Hello?” He says, slightly out of breath as his heart is pounding through his chest. 

God, what was he doing, waiting around for a call like some lovesick teen?

“Did you just get done running a marathon or somethin? You should be resting…” You ask with a raised eyebrow, toweling off the wet strands of your hair as the phone rests in between the crook of your neck and your shoulders.

“Didn’t realize I was signing up for a lecture when I picked up the phone, toots.” Stan grumbled, resting a hand over his heart in a feeble attempt to slow down its rapid pace.

“Well, I guess I’ll just hang up then…” You say playfully, giggling as Stan’s gruff voice says with a sudden urgency, “Wait, wait!”

“Surprised you actually gave me a call…” Stan mutters to which you blink in surprise, “Why are you surprised?”

“I dunno, figured you’d rather spend your day off doing something else other than getting dinner or a drink with a drifter.” Stan admits with a shrug to his shoulders.

“You know I never said that I was taking up your offer…” You tease, grinning once again as you have him stammering over his words. 

For someone who gives off a rough demeanor, it’s amusing to see him turn into a pile of mush.

“Stan, I’m just pulling your leg…” You chuckle, “ Did you have anywhere in particular in mind?”

Stan pauses for a few beats, and you stare at the phone wondering if you got caught off.

“Can you still hear me?” 

“I heard ya.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“... You’re actually serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious, Stanley.” 

God, the way you said his name sounded like a choir of angels to him, ready to take him to heaven.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d get this far, toots.” Stan admitted, “Didn’t think someone like you would even dare look my way, let alone go on a date with me.”

A date.

He confirmed that it was a date.

“So this is a date?” You say with a sly grin, trying to ignore how your heart beat is practically pounding in your ears.

Stan in response turns beet red, clutching the phone tighter, “Well, only if you want it to be, sweetheart.”

“It’s a date then. Pick me up at my place at 7. There’s a diner near my apartment that has the best shakes. You got a pen to write down my address?” You ask hurriedly before he could take it back. You snicker as you hear clamoring on the other end of the receiver, hearing Stan curse under his breath for the damn pen. 

“Ready.” He finally says, having found a pen and grabbed a crumpled up receipt out of the trash bin.

You share your address with him and after hanging up, Stan flops back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling in awe.

He hadn’t been on a date since that hippie stole Carla McCorckle from him.

“Alright, Stanley, you can do this. Sure, you may be a little rusty but you got that natural Pines charm.” He says, trying to be his own personal hype man as he gets up from the bed.

Heading to the bathroom, he looks in the mirror and blinks, “Yeesh. Should probably try to clean up a little bit…” Stan mutters, scratching the stubble on his chin.

He has a white corvette like I want it

A fire in his eyes, know, I saw it

He's bleeding from his brain and his wallet.

You glanced over your shoulder, almost anxiously staring at the clock as you plead for the minutes to go faster.

It’s 6:58 PM.

You turn your attention back onto the full-length mirror in your room, running your hands over the fabric of your outfit. You decided to dress up a little more than your usual attire that you would wear while working at the motel though you secretly hoped Stan didn’t randomly have a suit in his trunk that he was going to whip out for the occasion.

Though you did wonder what he could be wearing, cheeks reddening at the possibilities.

A knock on your apartment door startled you, breaking you out of your thoughts. Your eyebrow raises as you had told Stan to press the buzzer so you could let him in but when you go to look through the peephole, you see him standing outside your door and quickly undo the chain lock and open the door.

Stan stands before you, trading his usual attire for a maroon button-up that has two loose buttons to reveal a gold medallion that rested on his dark, wispy chest hairs and a pair of black slacks. In right hand, he holds a clumsy mess of various flowers wrapped in… is that a newspaper?

“You clean up pretty good, Pines…” You say with a sweet smile. Truthfully, this outfit was even better than what your thoughts could have conjured up. Your eyes flick towards the flowers, “Are these for me? You didn’t have to..” 

Stan places the flowers in your arms, “Well, I couldn’t show up empty-handed. What kinda guy do you take me for?” He says before glancing over his shoulder, “Hey, you don’t think your neighbor two doors down reads the paper regularly, do ya?”

You laugh, putting two and two together, “I don’t think so, let me put these in some water and we can head out. You can come in, make yourself comfortable.” You gesture, letting Stan step through the threshold before closing the door behind the two of you.

“You know you usually invite someone in after the date, doll.” Stan comments playfully, taking a seat on your cozy sofa as he watches your figure disappear into the kitchen to grab a vase. His eyes roam around the apartment, admiring the little touches you put to the place that made it feel like home. 

“What can I say? I like to cut right to the chase.” You tease, walking back into the living room with the assortment of flowers in a vase. You lean forward to place the vase on the coffee table in front of him and Stan finds his gaze drifting to your behind before quickly averting it as you stand up right, looking over at him, “You ready?”

Stan clears his throat, standing up from his seat, his cheeks tinted slightly pink, “Yup, you know how to get to the place?”

“Yup!” You say, grabbing your bag from the counter before raising an eyebrow.

“Why are your cheeks red? Is it hot in here?”

“Alright, let’s move it!” Stan says hurriedly, placing a warm calloused hand on the small of your back to usher you out the door.

It was your turn for your cheeks to turn red.

The liquor on your lips.

The liquor on your lips.

The liquor on your lips makes you dangerous.

“After being chased around a neighborhood by a husband who thought I was sleeping with his wife for hours, I stopped doing door to door sales. I mostly stuck to infomercials, you know the ones that cycle every few hours?” Stan explained, waving around the cheese fry in his hand.

You listen to his story with amusement, resting your chin on your hands as you take a sip of your milkshake, “Yeah, I’m familiar… surprised I haven’t seen you on my TV ever.”

“Well, when I shot them, I had a full mustache.” Stan admitted, holding the fry over his upper lip to mimic the facial hair.

Your laughter ran through Stan’s ears at the visual, leaning forward to pluck the fry from his finger and steal it from his grasp, taking a bite into it, “Now that’s something I would have paid to see.”

“Trust me, not worth the price, sweetheart.” Stan says with a relaxed grin, his arms spreading across the vinyl booth as he leans back.

His brown eyes take in your gorgeous features before catching the stray bit of cheese that was in the corner of your mouth. He can’t help himself, reaching over to run a thumb over it and pulling back to lick the cheese off his thumb.

You stare back at him flustered, your lips parted. Stan registers what he just did, blinking back at you before rubbing the back of his neck abashedly, “Sorry, had a little something on your lip.”

“No.. don’t apologize. I… liked it.” You admit with a cheeky grin, reaching for one of Stan’s hands that rests on the table. Your thumb runs over his knuckles that are still bandaged from the previous day, your touch delicate as you do so. 

“I gotta ask, sweetheart, what makes you like a guy like me?” Stan asks, entranced by your touch as he can’t help but spread his fingers out to intertwine your fingers with his larger ones.

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“C’mon toots, I know first impressions matter and what you saw the first day you met me was a guy in a ratty old hoodie with no money to his name, barely able to afford one night at a motel.” Stan chuckled with a bitter edge of his voice.

“Well, that’s not what I saw.” You say almost defensively, squeezing Stan’s hand firmly, “I saw a guy who was down on his luck… who just needed a warm place to stay for the night. What you showed me is you’re funny, quick-witted, a con man.. But a business savvy one.”

“Ouch, on the conman…”

“Am I wrong?”

“No… but you gotta admit that I got good ideas.”

“You do… you just need the right audience for them.” You chuckle, “Now, no more of this self-deprecating talk, let’s go dancing, there’s a bar a few blocks down that does disco nights on Fridays.”

“You wanna keep this date going, toots?” Stan says a bit nervously, knowing he was only able to scrounge up enough money to cover the bill.

“I got the drinks, Stan. Don’t worry.” You say, squeezing his hand again in reassurance, “Plus I can’t let you waste an outfit like this on just a diner.”

I knew it was wrong, I’m beyond it.

I tried to be strong but I lost it.

To say Stan swept you off your feet was an understatement.

You weren’t expecting him to be practically dragging you onto the dance floor despite your protests of having two left feet after a few drinks in your system, his feet moving effortlessly as he guides you with his hands.

Stan watches with glee as his arm raises to spin you, watching how the disco lights illuminate your face. He spins you into his frame before dipping you low, your noses brushing at the proximity.

You stare up at him, a hand resting on his bicep. Your breaths mingle, inches away from each other’s lips. Time stands still as Stan can’t help but admit huskily, “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Something in you snapped and you broke the distance, hands reaching up to cup Stan’s cheeks and pull him into a sudden kiss. His eyes widened in surprise, almost dropping you in alarm but melting into the kiss as he returned the passionate liplock.

Without breaking the kiss, Stan pulls you up, large hands drifting down to grip your hips. You feel your stomach doing somersaults at the sensation of his fingertips digging further into your flesh almost possessively. 

Like you would disappear between his fingertips if he didn’t hold on tight.

Pulling back reluctantly for air, your chest moves up and down as you pant softly. Your eyes twinkle underneath the colorful hues of the disco ball, gazing up at Stan with want.

“Shit, Pines… didn’t think you were that smooth.” You say breathlessly with a cheeky grin.

“Look who’s talking… didn’t think ya had it in you to pull the first move.” Stan teases, “Not that I’m complainin’ about being proven wrong.”

Your hands rest on Stan’s chest, “Well, just cause I made the first move doesn’t mean you can’t make one yourself.”

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?”

“Not a challenge, more like a wish.”

“Well, I can definitely make that wish come true.” Stan chuckles, leaning for another heated kiss. Stan’s lips search for yours almost hungrily, his tongue snaking out to run over your bottom lip almost pleading for entry. You allow it, a soft whine ripping from your throat as you taste the whiskey on his tongue. 

Those sweet noises that he’s able to pull from you cause Stan to grunt, pulling you further into him. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers running through his brown locks before playfully tugging at the ends of his mullet. He groans against your lips, loving the sensation more than he would care to admit.

Maybe having a mullet wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. 

Stan pulls back, smirking as he stares down at you pouting back at him, wondering why he stopped. His response is tilting his head to pepper kisses along your jawline and down your neck. You can’t help but giggle when his stubble tickles your skin, arching your neck in response, “Whoa there, tiger… we’re still in public, ya know?”

“Sorry, toots, can’t help myself…” Stan mutters against your ear, pulling you in by your waist so you’re both chest to chest, “You just taste so sweet… ”

Shit, your knees felt weak after hearing his deep voice rasp that against your ear.

You really tried to resist as much as you could.

But something about Stan Pines had your resolve crumbling before your eyes.

Fuck it.

“Stanley…” You coo in a sticky, saccharine tone that causes his arm hairs… and something else to stand up. Your fingers massage the nape of his neck, pressing your lips against his ear, “I would love to give you a taste… maybe somewhere more private.”

You let out a squeal in surprise as Stan practically drags you toward the exit, making a beeline back to his car. He looks back at you, his eyes darkened with lust, “Oh, I plan on getting more than a taste, doll.”

You taste like the 4th of July.

Malt liquor on your breath, my, my.

The sound of jingling keys and smacking lips against skin echoed through the hallway outside of your apartment. 

“Stan… cut it out for just a sec, I’m trying to get the door open..” You whine breathlessly, biting your lower lip as Stan’s teeth graze against the sensitive spot on your neck. You can feel his hardened bulge against your backside, his grip on your hips possessive.

“Alright, I’ll let up on ya.” Stan chuckles at your whine, pulling away reluctantly. He watches your fingers still fumble with the keys in amusement despite him halting his relentless flurry of kisses and love bites.

The moment the door opens, Stan’s arm wraps around your frame and hoists you over his broad shoulder, causing you to burst in a fit of laughter. Stan snickers when he closes the door behind him, feeling you playfully flail and stomp your fists on his back with the exaggerated plea to release you. He finds his way to your bedroom, nudging the loose door with his foot to get through the threshold before tossing you on the bed gently.

You have a beat to process your back hitting the soft material of your mattress before feeling the bed dip down and your lips being ensnared into another heated kiss. 

Your fingers find themselves gripping the back of Stan’s button-up, wrinkling the fabric underneath as you cling onto him. His lips slowly descend down your jawline, to your neck before his hands hover over the fabric of your top. He pulls back briefly, “Can I, sweetheart?” He asks breathlessly.

You nod eagerly and his hands slowly pull off the top to reveal more of your bare skin. “Jesus, are you sure you’re not an angel? Look at ya..” Stan says, his touch over your exposed flesh sending shivers down your spine.

“Well, don’t just look… you can touch more.” You say with a desperate edge to your voice. Stan chuckles darkly at your impatience, deciding to give into your demands. His tongue glides over your collarbone, deciding downward before capturing a sensitive peak in between his lips, suckling firmly. The delicious sounds you make go straight to his groin, spurring him on to tease, pinch and suck on your hardened nipples.

He needed to hear how good he was making you feel.

“Stan… more, please.” You whimper out, your legs wrapped around him.

“Tell me how much you need this, angel.” Stan grins against your flesh.

“Fuck, I need you, Stan. Please, you make me feel so good, I need your tongue, your fingers, your cock, anything!” You moan out after a particular torturous squeeze of nipples.

Your praise, your pleas caused any self-restraint Stan was holding onto to fall apart, his hands tugging down on your bottoms. Your hips snap up to allow him to shove the fabric down your ankles before he pretty much rips off his own stuffy shirt, revealing to you his chest hair, broad shoulders and biceps and round stomach. 

Stan practically melts as your hands glide over his chest and down his stomach. His abdomen tensing when your nails make their way down his happy trail to start unbuttoning his tight pants.

After you undo the top button and zipper, Stan’s hands join yours, impatiently tugging off the fabric. His rock hard shaft springs out from its confines, tip red and leaking with pre-cum.

Just as your hand is about to reach down to give it some attention, Stan catches your wrist, shaking his head. “Another time, sweetheart… I need ya now.” 

Your legs spread as Stan adjusts himself between them, his fingers gripping the meat of your thighs. You can’t help but feel a bit self-conscious when the man above you is staring down at your lower parts with such intensity and attempt to squeeze your legs shut. Unfortunately, Stan’s hold on your thighs is firm, holding them apart with a click of his tongue, “None of that, toots. Don’t hide such a gorgeous sight from me.”

Toes curl against the sheets and nails dig into Stan’s shoulder blades as he decides to torture you just a little bit more, brushing the tip of his shaft against your opening and teasing it with shallow movements. After getting his fill of your desperate whimpers, he finally shows you some mercy, groaning when he fully sheaths his cock inside you.

“Jesus, angel… you even feel like heaven..” Stan groans, pumping his hips slowly as he finds his rhythm, “You’re gonna be the death of me, doll… I swear.” He holds onto your hips for dear life, his fingertips practically imprinted into your flesh. Your walls clamp around him tightly, hissing through his teeth as his hips pull back and forth.

You relish in the delicious stretch as Stan’s cock digs deeper with every thrust into your walls, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut when his shaft bottoms out inside your walls. Stan shudders, feeling every inch of his aching cock being squeezed down by your warm walls.

After giving you a second to adjust to his full length, he finally lets go, his hips letting loose. His pace is quick yet powerful, his thick tip kissing that sweet spot that has your thighs trembling over and over again. Stan gazes down at you in awe, relishing every single moan and cry that escapes your throat. He lets out a deep chuckle, hearing you babble for more, “Oh, you need more? Such a greedy little thing.”

Stan gladly indulges in your pleas, his pace now brutal as he hammers his cock at an almost erratic pace. The sound of your hips lewdly smacking together echoing through the room, your cries silenced by Stan’s searing kiss, swallowing them up greedily. He presses all his weight atop of you, pinning your legs back at an angle that allows his cock to drive deeper inside of you.

You feel a warmth boiling in the pit of your stomach, your legs wrapping around Stan’s frame as your nails dig red welts into his back. “S-Stan… I…” You gasp in between breaths of your heated kisses, causing Stan to pause to stare down at you. “Ya close, sweets?” You nod in response, so cock-drunk that you can’t form a coherent sentence.

Focusing all his efforts to bring you over the edge, Stan reaches for your chest, thumbing your sensitive nipples, causing you to flinch and squirm beneath him. His face buried in the crook of your neck as he groans against your ear, “So fucking good for me, you take my cock perfectly, angel. God, you don’t know what you do to me..” His hips reel back, delivering slow yet deep strokes that finally push you and him over the edge.

Stan grins against your neck, feeling and hearing you come undone beneath him. He loves how you latch onto him, clinging on for dear life as he slows his strokes down to help you ride out your orgasm. His cock twitches with each lazy drag, murmuring sweet praise into your ear, “That’s it… did so good for me, sweetheart.” With a stutter in his own hips, he cums as well, filling you to the brim with a guttural groan before collapsing on your chest.

You both lay there for a while, your thighs aching in the best way possible. You run your fingers through Stan’s brown locks, curling the ends of his mullet in your finger. The sound of your heartbeat echoes through Stan’s eardrums, relishing in your warmth. 

“Um… toots?” Stan mutters, causing you to look down with a raised eyebrow. 

It’s almost comical to see the man that just had you seeing stars looking abashed as he asks, “Could.. I..”

“Spit out, Pines.” You chuckle teasingly.

“Hey, you’re the one who couldn’t even form a sentence a few minutes ago.” Stan huffs before muttering against your skin, “Mind if I stay the night…?”

You stare down at Stan in understanding, tilting his chin to pull him in for a soft kiss.

“Of course, Stan. You can stay as long as you need.”

You can be the boss

Taste like a keg party, back on the sauce

I like you a lot, I like you a lot

Don't let it stop

[khunyuki]

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ꜱɪᴅᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 𝚏. 𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

Synopsis: When younger Hoshina Soshiro realized what exactly puberty does to a boy leading to him having dreams about his fiancee every night, feeling extremely guilty when he sees her the next day.

Pairing/s: Hoshina Soshiro x Fiancee!OC

Note/s: It's been a while! This is kinda short but I hope you like it. Pretty mild I must say

Warning/s: Suggestive Content

Masterlist: TOC, Previous, Next

< It all started with an accidental peek >

When you're training with someone, it's only natural to attack your opponent and defend from any incoming strikes. And when you're sparring with Hoshina Soshiro, you know that he will not go easy on you even if you're his fiancee. Uzui Kagami knows this full well, having been his training partner whenever possible starting from a young age.

With every hit of his wooden sword, she tries to block it with her own as she looks for an opening to strike back.

CLACK CLACK CLACK

Getting pushed back by the intensity and speed of his hits, the wooden sword slipped out of Kagami's grip to the ground. His sword on her neck as she brought her hands up in surrender.

"I lost again. I don't think I could ever beat you Soshiro"

She admitted her defeat with a defeated smile as he brought the wooden sword back to his side. Kagami lay down on the ground in exhaustion, quite unladylike but too tired to care at the moment. Soshiro let out a chuckle as he wiped off his sweat with a towel. There were towels and refreshments prepared for them at the side.

"Well of course, I've been practicing my family's swordsmanship style since I could remember. No way you're beating me at this so quickly"

He showed her his tongue as he passed her a towel. She pouted as she sat up and took it, wiping her own sweat, clutching it in her hands after.

"If we spar using my family's swordsmanship, I am confident I could win though"

"Of course you will. You're already getting better at using Hoshina style swordsmanship, I guarantee you can be my equal in a few year's time"

He said it with so much confidence that it makes her believe that she'd actually be able to do so one day. It was enough to make her speechless and flustered as she hurriedly stood up and went to get some water, fanning her face as she does so.

A mischievous grin appeared on Soshiro's face when he saw a glimpse of her red ears, and how hard she tries to fan her face. He followed closely behind her and when she reached out to take a bottle, his hand suddenly appeared beside her. It was then that she's made aware of the presence that was so close to her. His face drifting next to her own as he took his own drink.

"Why is your face so red?"

He casually asked as if he didn't just pressed his body against her back with his other hand on her shoulder to get a drink. She clutched her bottle and towel to her chest as she watched him gulp down the drink, sweat trickling down his adam's apple. She was mesmerized by his beauty until she snapped out of her thoughts back to reality once she saw him looking at her.

"That... You— Ahh!"

She hurriedly opened her own bottle and made a mess because she was clutching it too tightly. Water splayed all over her face and training garb, even the towel in her hands wasn't spared. This earned her a sudden burst of laughter from the man beside her. Water was supposed to cool you down but it just further heightened her embarrassment.

"You look like a wet chick"

There's absolutely no way that the towel that absorbed most of the water could clean her up so she discarded it aside. She couldn't help but puff her cheeks at the male still laughing, clutching his stomach. It really isn't helping him as he imagined her like that.

"It's not funny!"

She crossed her arms as she turned away from him, clearly choosing to be more upset than embarrassed. Soshiro, thinking he might've went too far, tried to stop laughing though it would still leak out.

"Seriously, why are you so clumsy—"

He said as he passed her his own towel to she reluctantly accepted. She still have a pout on her face as she wiped herself down. She wondered why he suddenly went silent after laughing so hard but that was none of her business at the moment.

Soshiro just drank some water yet why is it that his throat was still so dry? He could feel the heat rising to his face as he remembered what he saw when she took his towel. Their training outfit was by no means thin despite being white so imagine his surprise when he saw a glimpse of baby blue sticking to her outfit.

He couldn't help but take a peek again, this time seeing her pat the area between her collarbones dry. This was the first time in a while he's ever looked at her closely, this time her body particularly. Was that always there? That small bump on her chest? He knew his fiancee was a girl and treated her as such but this is definitely the first time he realized... Ahhh she really is a girl...

"Is there something wrong?"

She asked, covering her chest with his towel naturally. She knew he's looking at her, she doesn't know exactly where he's looking with his eyes always closed. Though she knew it must've been something serious if he's uncharacteristically silent so suddenly.

"I'm going to the toilet"

He said as he ran away, leaving her alone and confused. For the rest of the day, he avoided her the whole time until she went home. His older brother only laughed at him muttering something like youth.

On the night of summer vacation of their first year of middle school, Hoshina Soshiro suffered from the nightly visits of a succubus donning the face of his fiancee.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=

< An unknowing touch >

"Why are you avoiding me?"

Kagami caught her fiancee off guard when she suddenly appeared beside him without a sound. He was taking a book of a shelf in the school library when she surprised him by suddenly appearing. The sudden jolt of his body was proof of that.

"I'm not"

Is what he said but avoided looking at her face when he does. This seem to drive her nuts as her mind went into overdrive, thinking of various reasons why he'd avoid her. She keeps thinking that maybe she did something wrong or if he's starting to hate her too.

"You're lying"

She pinned him on the shelf when he tried to escape, the books shaking from the sudden disturbance. Soshiro's heart is beating so fast as she'd never done this before. The sudden kabedon puts their bodies in close proximity that their chests are touching when he tries to escape. Her head looking down so he couldn't see her face, if she looked at him now she'd see his red face.

"Did I- Did I do something wrong? Is that why you're avoiding me? Do you... Do you hate me now?"

She bit her lip in hesitance before asking him. Her voice cracking a bit before ending it all in almost a whisper. He only glimpsed at her face and immediately regretted his actions brought upon him by puberty. Her trembling lips, her furrowed brows, and brimming eyes filled with insecurity, doubt, and evident hurt. He could sense that there was something dark and borderline scary in her gaze but it was instantly gone the moment it appeared.

"I don't hate you, you didn't do anything wrong. It was me"

He grabbed her arm as she prepared to leave, apologizing so fast. He went too far and he admits to himself that he hurt her with his actions. He won't forgive himself if something as stupid as this destroys their relationship.

"I did something wrong to you"

She looks at him urging him to continue but what exactly can he say? There's no way in hell he'd blurt out that he kept on dreaming about them doing stuff, keeping him up every night. He's definitely guilty about it but he felt even more guilt at her almost making her cry.

"I saw something that day"

What does that have to do with anything, Kagami thought. She frowned her brows in confusion as she tried to remember the day he started avoiding her. They were sparring and she lost then she went to get water where he teased her, in embarrassment she spilled water on herself and...

Her eyes opened wide at the realization. She covered her chest as she looked at him with a bright red face for confirmation to which he nodded without looking at her. Let's say it was her avoiding him now instead of the other way around.

<- Previous Next ->

[14dayswithyou]

Teo NSFW Alphabet

🔞 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: DO NOT INTERACT! 🔞 Hello Teo Alvarado Nation, I come bearing gifts

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

For one night stands; Teo will casually point out where the bathroom is and let them use any of his personal products —before ignoring them in favour of his phone or organising an Uber/chauffeur to pick them up. But for regular hookups; he'll have a towel, a bottle of water, and some snacks ready on standby. They are welcome to stay the night, but they better be gone before Teo wakes up in the morning.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Necks :) He likes how nicely his fingers look wrapped around his partner’s throat — as well as the expensive jewellery he buys specifically for them to wear. I know everyone probably expects me to say that Teo likes his own face the most, but he honestly might prefer his own biceps instead. He's worked hard to maintain this kind of build, so it's only natural for him to want to show off the results.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The only time you'll ever get to see his cum is if you give him head; otherwise, he'll use a condom (or send you home if there are none available). But!! His seed is somewhat thick and has a bitter taste. It's not unpleasant, though!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's probably had a sexual escapade or two with a few of the other library employees by now ^^; He won't go anywhere near your immediate coworkers, though — he's not that much of an asshole.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Sexually? There's almost nothing this man hasn't done already. He's extremely skilled, knows what he wants, and isn't afraid to ask for it if his partner(s) are willing. Romantically, however? That's an entirely new realm to him. Theo has probably never held anyone's hand before or kissed them with affectionate intentions. He knows how to fuck, but he doesn't know how to make love.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggystyle, in front of a mirror. He likes being able to pull his partner's hair, slap their ass, or place a hand on their neck/shoulder blade to bend them to his liking. Seeing his partner's face might be a bit too intimate for him, so any position that lets Teo fuck undisturbed is good in his books.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

While he's far more serious, he'll entertain any goofy partners. If they crack jokes or do something silly, he'll roll his eyes and go along with it — for the most part. Once it starts getting old, he'll simply ignore it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Most of his body is hairless for his own personal preference, though he does grow out his happy trail on occasion... Especially if he knows his regular partners are into it. It's a dark patch of black to match the hair on his head.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Literally non-existent. When he sleeps with someone, it's because he's either looking for a bit of fun or to let off some steam. Both parties are aware of this, though, and Teo would never have sex with someone who sees him in a romantic light or wants something more than a casual hookup. I can't believe this is happening, but if it's blog!Teo (aka Rosie and Jesse delulu AU /pos), then he would be waaay more intimate with his partner! He's more likely to make eye contact and even lean in for a kiss if you beg him enough.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Although he'd definitely jack off if necessary, Teo is typically around people who are willing to help him blow off some steam — so there isn't really much point. Teo does find the idea of mutual masturbation hot, though!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

My dyslexic ass doesn't know how to spell it correctly, but he's got a crying kink!!! Seeing his partner so overwhelmed with pleasure just does something to him, and it goes hand in hand with his degradation and knife kink. However, I want to make it explicitly clear that Teo doesn't get off to seeing his partner in pain!! He also wouldn't do something they're not comfortable with. Everything gets discussed before the relationship situationship can delve into anything more long-lasting.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He loves to do it inside his McLaren (or Tesla, in Blog! Teo's case). His windows are heavily tinted so you don't have to worry about any outside interference, though Teo isn't above threatening to wind down the window inch by inch in order to tease you. Other than that, Teo is down to fuck almost anywhere that's hygienic and sanitary. But keep in mind that he also gets a kick out of public indecency, and bribing the law isn't above him either (if you guys somehow got caught).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sending him risque texts, telling him you're bored and alone, unabashedly sitting in his lap while he's with his friends, literally taking his hands and shoving them down your pants, etc. He likes people who are confident and forward with him without feeling ashamed or embarrassed by it. ...Just don't make it seem like you're trying to claim ownership over him, though. Don't cling to his side to make his friends jealous. Don't send him spicy texts because you saw him flirting with another man. And don't act brazen just to flaunt your relationship in front of that cute souvenir shop cashier.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

To be honest, there isn't much that Teo is not open to. He's down for almost anything so long as it's legal and not too immoral/outlandish. He's fine with somnophilia if it's discussed prior, but things like dubcon might be a bit too icky for his tastes. Keep in mind that he's also really selfish, and would probably want to stick to his own kinks since they are more familiar to him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He was born to be a pillow princess, but wouldn't mind going down on his regular hookups either.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It's always hard and rough with him, though he likes to switch up the tempo in order to tease you/his partners. Just when you think you're about to come, he'll slow down and ultimately stop moving. And once you've sufficiently begged him enough — maybe turn on the waterworks to really get him going — then he'll give it to you fast and hard until your toes are curling and your eyes are rolling back.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's Corland Bay's king of quickies lmao. Teo is the type to pull you (and your clothes) aside and take you where you stand before going about his day as if nothing happened.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's always down to take risks and experiment! Teo is open to trying out almost anything — and unlike Ren, he's more in favour of having others see you both get fucked. Teo knows he's good and wants to show the both of you off.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While 3-4 rounds might not sound like much, Teo tends to draw them out for as long as possible. It's almost like he's trying to edge you with how often he'll stop before you can reach your peak... But the orgasms always feel that much better for the both of you when you're especially horny and desperate for release. I think the better answer would be that Teo can last at least six hours in the bedroom.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't use anything on himself, though Teo does have a small box of toys for his partners who prefer it. I wouldn't count his knife collection as toys, nor the literal police handcuffs stashed away in his drawer. (Which, ironically, were used to detain him after he vandalised a small business..... Why did they let him keep the cuffs.... How did he get away with it.........)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Teo isn't one to be a physical tease (he doesn't have the patience for it), though he is a massive verbal tease in the bedroom. More often than not, his words are mixed with a degrading edge to it. "My thigh ain't enough for you? Then why don't you try begging me for more, then. C'mon, I know you can do it." / "You want more? Move your hips then." / "Hands on the mirror, doll. I never gave you permission to touch yourself." / "Look at you, crying while bouncing on a cock like that. Can't handle it splitting you open like that, huh?" / "Fuck. Can't help but act like such a cock-hungry slut, can you? I'm not even all the way in yet."

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He mainly uses low grunts and growls, though he does use a lot of dirty talk to fill the silence. Teo gets more vocal the closer he is to coming.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Blog!Teo only ever kisses Angel :) It's already kinda hinted at in all da NSFW fics with him involved, but I'll take advantage of this situation and make it more official hehe

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

I ERASED HIS PENIS FROM MY MEMORY, But I wanna say it's around 7 inches and extremely girthy. There's a prominent vein or two running along the underside with a slight curve to the left when erect. Even when soft, it looks like he's packing heat down there.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Teo has a high sex drive, but he can easily manage it. Surprisingly, he probably only has sex like... maybe four or five times a week? He's too busy being a public menace and setting things on fire. Now that I think about it, I do quickly want to reiterate that while, yes, Teo is a playboy; that isn't his defining personality trait. Since the very beginning, he's always been a lover of chaos and messing with people (/nsx) — not sleeping around. Flirting =/= sex, and Teo has always been so much more than just a hedonistic fuckboy. So please don't take this post as confirmation of him only being interested in sex (or sleeping with Angel)!!

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Teo will most likely stay up a bit longer just to scroll through social media on his phone, though he is willing to initiate pillow talk if it's with one of his FWBs/regular hookups. If it's a one night stand, he'll only fall asleep once they're gone.

[daltonsluvr]

THREE TIMES , ONE MOMENT

pairing : jj maybank x female reader

warnings : underage drinking , swearing basically just a lot of fluff .

summary : three times where everyone can see how much you and jj like each other , and the moment where you finally confess .

note : this fic is set both before & during the events of season 1 , it’ll make slightly more sense when you read on . there are some plot inconsistencies , but let’s just ignore them for the purpose of this imagine .

ONE. BEACH DAY

To say you loved the ocean was an understatement. It seemed often that you spent more time in the sea than on land, whether it be surfing, swimming or simply paddling in the shallow depths of the water. As a pogue, you’d grown up near the beach, wading into the cool water often as a child, longing to feel the waves against the ankles. And you were no different even now, years later.

All of the pogues knew of your love for the ocean, though perhaps none more than JJ Maybank. It was where you first met, after all, both of you surfing amongst the waves, unaware you were about to meet the person you’d call one of your best friends.

You were all by the ocean for a weekly beach day - a tradition which you had founded, naturally. Kiara was helping you make a rather elaborate looking sandcastle, while the boys were running out of the sea, hair dripping wet & holding their surfboards.

You looked down to focus on your sandcastle, but the feel of water dripping on your head made you look up, only to see a certain blonde smiling down on you.

“Come to the water with me?” JJ grinned at you, offering you a hand to help you get up.

Nodding, you accepted his hand, and he pulled you up. Hands still interlocked, you both ran to the water together, laughing as he tugged you along towards it.

The feel of the waves crashing over your feet relieved any stresses you had almost immediately, as did the feel of JJ’s hand still gripping yours. The two of you ran out further into the ocean, laughing with every step you took.

You eventually waded out far enough where the water just reached your waist. The sight mesmerised you: the waves gently washing over each other, the sun setting in the distance. It was all so beautiful.

And it just so happened that JJ thought the exact same thing, only about you. He had liked you for quite a while, though unlike his true JJ nature, he was scared to tell you. Perhaps he was scared of what you’d say in response, or maybe he just didn’t know how to express his emotions properly. Either why, he hadn’t told you about his feelings for you yet.

Though you were the only one who seemed to not notice. All of the other pogues - Kie, Pope & even the otherwise oblivious John B - knew of JJ’s liking for you, and they were ever so sure that you reciprocated his feelings.

“Just look at them!” Kie awed from her place on the towel, watching the two of you in the ocean as you splashed each other and tumbled into each other’s arms. “Aren’t they cute?”

“Has JJ really not told her yet?” Pope said, shaking his head as he leaned closer to see the two of you better.

“Put it this way. JJ’s not scared of shit, but he’s scared of telling her, and that says something.” John B shrugged, taking a swig from the bottle which he’d brought with him to the beach.

“Whatever, he’ll tell her soon, I’m telling you,” Kie shrugged her shoulders casually, still looking on at the two of you, rather like a proud mother. “I’d be willing to bet on it.”

“Wanna bet, then?” said John B with a smirk, extending his hand for Kiara to shake. “I say he won’t confess for a year, you say he will. Winner gets $20.”

“You’re on.” smiled Kiara, taking his hand as all three of the pogues looked back at the sea at you both, just in time to notice the grins playing on your faces as you ran back to land, your arms tightly around JJ’s neck as he carried you, the two of you looking as happy as could be.

TWO. CLEAN UP

“Stay still, it’ll sting more if you move.” you said quietly, holding a wet rag to the side of JJ’s head, which had a cut along it. Presumably from his father, though you knew better than to talk to him about his dad. You were sitting on the couch arm while JJ sat on the cushioned part, the two of you sitting close together while you helped clean his wound.

“It hurts like shit,” JJ whinged, though you paid him no attention. You both knew that the only way he’d recover is if you continued cleaning up the cut before it got infected, no matter how small it could be considered to be.

“It’ll take a minute longer, and then it’s done,” you hummed, removing the cloth to examine the cut closer. You reached for a bandage to put on the cut, and you watched as JJ winced as it was put on. “There, finished.”

JJ stood up to take a look at the cut in the mirror, only to see it bandaged up. He smiled at his reflection, before turning to you. “Thanks, really. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Not really,” you shot him a smile back, getting up to put the rag away. “I just helped-”

You were cut off by a JJ shaped figure wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up, your feet leaving the floor.

“JJ!” you said, grinning as he twirled you around humorously, the pair of you laughing as the room became dizzier around you, and as your cheeks flushed pink ( both from the adrenaline and being in each other’s arms ), you realised just how much you liked JJ, genuinely.

And it seemed someone else was realising as well. Sarah Cameron was sat outside, shades perched on the top of her head, watching through the window with the rest of the pogues at the two of you, the grins on your face visible even through the distorted view.

“So are they-?” she asked, looking at the people around her. It was her first time meeting the pogues, and though they didn’t exactly meet eye to eye, they had at least one thing in common: they were all far too invested in the story that was yours and JJ’s love lives.

“Not yet,” Pope said, joining her to look at you both. “But we think pretty soon they will be.”

“They aren’t?” Sarah raised her eyebrows, turning to look at the pogues, who all nodded exasperatedly. She turned back, shaking her head. “Dear lord, you pogues are clearly as oblivious as you look.”

THREE. MIDSUMMERS

The only reason you were all dressed up that evening was because Kiara insisted that you had to come, or she would not attend. And so her parents ( rather unwillingly ) allowed their daughter to let her best friend come with her to the highly anticipated Midsummer’s Ball.

Kie had let you borrow one of her gowns, because you owned only one dress, and your cat had ripped the hem of it. It was light green and looked almost identical to her own, but you wore a simple green headband with yours as opposed to a flower crown.

You knew that JJ and Pope would also be at the ball, in a secret mission that the rest of you pogues had crafted out. Which is why you kept a look at the door no matter who you were talking to, perhaps hoping that you would see him walk through at any moment.

Kiara had left you alone to go and talk to her parents, and so you were by yourself, stuck on the outskirts of the dance floor with no one to talk to. You didn’t mind too much; you certainly didn’t want to talk to any fascist kooks, anyway.

“How the fuck are you here?” you heard a voice from behind you, and you turned around to see Rafe Cameron, kook royalty, standing beside you, drink in hand as he looked sceptically at you. “You’re no kook.”

“Guest of the Carreras,” you shrugged nonchalantly, turning you attention away from and back to the dance floor, not bothered to see his reaction.

“Yeah, well where’s your boyfriend at? You know, the one you’re never seen without?”

“Who- JJ?” you turned back around to look at him. Rafe was smirking: he’d clearly said it to get a reaction out of you. You mentally kicked yourself for letting him get to you. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Well, it’s you who made that assumption, not me,” Rafe raised his hands up in surrender, and winked at you, before walking away. You simply rolled your eyes. It was just Rafe being Rafe, right?

No more than ten minutes later, you spotted JJ with Rafe and his cronies. So that’s why Rafe had made that comment. Go figure.

You saw JJ run out, and you watched as he looked at you, indicating for you to join him. You looked at Kie, who nodded at you, before the two of you ran out after them. Kiara ran to Pope and you ran to JJ, his arms lifting you up as you reached him, laughing along with you.

“You look beau- nice. Really nice,” JJ said, almost as a throwaway comment, though you took it as something more.

“Thank you,” you smiled, trying to shrug off the heat that started to climb up your cheeks. “You do as well, the waistcoat suits you.”

“Oh really? You like my waiter disguise?” And just like that anything Rafe had said before was forgotten, the two of you were back to joking together as you normally would. But when you turned around to see Rafe mouthing ‘Told you’, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right about your feelings for each other.

CONFESSIONS

The bonfire light flickered on both of your skins as the two of you sat by the fire, close together, but not touching each other just yet.

You both kept sending looks at each other: little glances that could easily be misinterpreted as friendly looks, though you both knew now it was something more. You were ever so sure.

“Why’d you keep looking at me like that?” you asked him suddenly, breaking the silence between the two of you. If you didn’t have alcohol in your system, you may never have had the courage to ask him, but you were fed up of unanswered questions.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you were being bolder than usual, more abrasive, but you had to know if it was reciprocated.

“Well that’s where you’re wrong, because I don’t,” he said. He was being annoying, you were sure of it, having known him for so long.

“Quit playing, Maybank. What’s going on between us? Are we friends or are we more?”

Silence. No response. Your worst fears true, you looked in his eyes for an answer, but you got nothing. Then, you felt the space between you close. His lips on yours, you feel your breath hitch in your throat.

It was unexpected, but a good surprise, nonetheless. His lips felt soft; warm in comparison to your rather cold ones, and it felt nice. You had kissed boys before, though those kisses never mattered. This one did, this one felt right.

When you parted, you couldn’t help but laugh with him, at both of your obliviousnesses and at the fact that your first kiss was unexpected for at least one of you.

“More. Definitely more,” he laughed again, a warmth in his voice. His arm was now wrapped around your shoulder, and the two of you huddled closer together, as if the warmth exuded from the fire wouldn’t reach the both of you unless you were together. And as you looked around you, at the beach and more importantly at him, you were happy.

And if you had thought to look further into the distance behind the two of you, you would’ve seen a rather smug looking Kiara being handed $20 by John B, who couldn’t seem to care less about losing the money.

[msklassickilla]

Prada You Chapter 21

Summary:

In the summer of 1998, sparks fly between Nyeya and Jey.

Nyeya is an 18-year-old around the way girl. Jey is older, paid, and fine. He is also the leader of the infamous Prada Bois alongside his twin brother Jimmy.  The two have chemistry. However, Nyeya has plans outside of her attraction. With a birthday around the corner and dreams of living a good life, Nyeya sets her sights on enjoying the perks of Jey's money and hood celebrity.

But baby girl has no clue what it takes to really be down. Nyeya is about to learn some hard life lessons at the expense of her 'Prada' priced dreams.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Nyeya (Nye) Green (OC)

Author’s Note: This story is happening in an alternative universe. It features the current and original Bloodline members along with other WWE stars. So, the characters are themselves, but some things are switched around for the stories sake. This was originally written with all original characters, but I think it could work better this way. Hope you guys enjoy it and I actually finish it...

Warning: Please be advised that this chapter contains harsh/foul language, moments of intimacy, violence, underage drinking, age gap relationships.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Chapter 21: War

August 8th 1998

The low hum of washing machines and the distant chatter of two older women talking about the price of food filled the laundromat as I moved through the routine motions of my Sunday morning. Sorting. Folding. Thinking. The clothes weren’t the only thing I was trying to organize—my thoughts felt just as jumbled as the pile of laundry in front of me.

Jey wanted me to move in. Now. His persistence was bothering me greatly.

I bit my lip, staring blankly at the damp clothes as I transferred them from the washer into the dryer. It was all happening too fast. When had I ever said I was ready for that? Ready to leave my mother, leave Michael, leave the little bit of normalcy I still had left?

The thought of my life shifting completely into Jey’s world made me uneasy, but I hadn’t figured out why it bothered me so much.

The small bell above the laundromat door jingled, and I didn’t think much of it—until I felt his presence before I even saw him. Jey. I turned, and there he was, leaning against a folding table like he had all the time in the world. A slow, knowing smirk spread across his face when our eyes met.

“Hey, baby.”

My stomach clenched. Not just from seeing him—but because I hadn’t told him where I was going this morning after he dropped me off. How did he even know my ass was here?

I really didn’t want to show my annoyance, so I folded a towel neatly, keeping my voice casual. “I thought you went home to sleep. How did you know where I was?”

Jey walked toward me; hands tucked into the pockets of his black sweatpants. “I always know where you at.”

My hands froze mid-fold. I looked up at him, searching his face. Was he for real right now?

His expression didn’t give me an answer. My mind immediately started running scenarios. Did he have somebody watching me? Or was this just him being his usual overbearing self?

Before I could press him further, he stepped in closer, brushing my hip with his as he leaned on the folding table. “I was thinkin’,” he started, changing the subject, “You wanna learn how to drive today?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

Jey grinned at my reaction, nudging my shoulder. “You heard me. You been wanting to finish learning since that night you had to drive my car to the house on Bend. I got time today, so what’s up?”

I eyed him, trying to ignore the way my heart sped up just a little at the thought. He was right. I had been meaning to finish learning, but with everything Jey consuming my life, I just… hadn’t.

I studied him for a beat longer before shrugging. “Okay.”

Jey smirked in satisfaction. “Aight, bet.”

He stayed close while I finished up, helping me fold clothes, carrying them out like he had nowhere better to be. His touch was softer today, his presence warmer, like he wanted to remind me why I had fallen for him in the first place. Jey could be like this. He could be sweet, patient. Attentive.

It almost made me forget about the eerie way he had just shown up out of nowhere yet again. I still felt like he had somebody following me.

By the time we were back at my place, I was feeling lighter, laughing at something stupid he said as he helped carry the last of my clothes inside. My mama was at work and Michael was somewhere probably terrorizing somebody, so I didn’t mind him coming in.

Maybe today would be easy. Maybe today, I could just enjoy Jey without all the extra weight pressing down on me.

---

The sun was blazing, sending waves of heat through the near-empty parking lot Jey had pulled into. It was the perfect spot to practice. As there was no risk of me hitting anybody shit.

I gripped the steering wheel, my shoulders tense as I stared straight ahead. “You sure ‘bout this?”

Jey’s arm draped over the back of the passenger seat as he watched me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Girl, if I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t be lettin’ you sit in my driver’s seat. Now go ‘head, put yo’ foot on the gas, but slow.”

I exhaled hard, nodding. Doing my best to remember the basics. My foot tapped the pedal, and the car lurched forward, making me yelp.

Jey snorted. “Damn, baby, you tryna send us through the windshield?”

I shot him a glare, adjusting my grip. “Shut up.”

Jey chuckled but reached over, guiding my hands gently. “Relax. You got this. This shit easy once you get the hang of it.”

I took a breath, trying again. This time, the car moved forward smoothly, rolling through the lot without issue. A small grin tugged at my lips as confidence replaced my nerves. I could do this.

We spent the next hour going through the motions—turning, reversing, parking. Jey was patient with me, something I wasn’t used to. He wasn’t barking orders or making me feel stupid for messing up. He was teaching me. Something I found attractive. I liked this side of him.

After one final turn, I parked and turned to him, expecting praise. “Now, rate me 1-10.”

Jey smirked. “Solid 6.”

I gasped. “Excuse me?”

I know he didn’t try to play me like that especially after all my hard work.

“You still scared to go over 20 miles per hour. Ain’t no way I can rate you higher than that.”

I shoved his arm playfully. “You such a hater.”

Jey chuckled before letting his hand rest against my thigh. His fingers traced small circles as he spoke. “When you move in, I’ll get you a car. You ain’t gotta rely on nobody else to get around.”

My stomach flipped. There it was again. I shifted, watching his fingers absently stroke the skin of my uncovered leg. “Jey… why you so pressed on me movin’ in?”

Jey’s eyes lifted to mines, his expression unreadable. “’Cause I want you close. I want you with me every night. Not just sometimes.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. It wasn’t just about moving in. There was something else to this and he couldn’t change my mind about that.

Jey took my hand in his, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. “I ain’t tryna press you. But I’m serious about this, Nye. I want this to be more. I see it all with you—home, marriage, kids.”

My breath caught. “Jey…”

“Don’t overthink it,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the inside of my wrist. “You built for this. We built for this.”

I stared at him, my emotions tangled into a knot I couldn’t untangle. He made it sound so easy. But deep down, I knew…

Nothing about this life was ever easy.

---

August 12th 1998

The scent of hot comb and pressing oil filled my room as Natasha ran the straightener through the last section of my hair. The soft sizzle echoed against the steady hum of the ceiling fan above us. I sat still, staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror, watching Natasha work with skilled hands.

“You really letting Jey dress you now?” Natasha teased, eyeing the red, slinky dress draped across the bed. “This barely got enough fabric to be called a dress. I usually wear something like that, not you.”

I smirked, flipping a strand of my newly pressed hair over my shoulder. “You know how he is. He likes me looking good for him.”

Natasha rolled her eyes but grinned. “Mmhmm. He just likes showing you off knowing other men can’t have you.”

I laughed softly, before shifting the conversation. “Where’s Taya?”

Natasha paused briefly, then started on my edges. “With Jimmy, where else?”

There was something in her tone that made me glance up. “She been with him a lot lately, huh?”

Natasha exhaled through her nose. “Yeah. Ever since he and Jey got questioned by the police, she been… different. I don’t know, she ain’t herself.” She hesitated before adding, “I think Jimmy’s world is getting to her. She not use to no hood shit like that. Them white boys she usually date don’t get down like Jimmy do.”

I held back from saying what I really wanted to. I wondered if Natasha knew just how much Nataya’s life was changing—but that was for Nataya to share with her twin, not me. Instead, I offered a small nod. “She’ll talk when she’s ready.”

Natasha sighed. “Yeah, I hope so.”

With that, she pressed one last section, ran her fingers through my silky strands, and smiled. “There. You good to go.”

---

Jey pulled up right on time, his car gleaming under the streetlights. I stepped outside, the summer heat hugging my skin. I felt Jey’s eyes on me before he even spoke.

“Damn, girl.”

He was out of the car in seconds, hands sliding to my waist, pulling me close. His eyes roamed my figure, lingering at the curve of my hips and the way the dress clung to my body. “You tryna kill me tonight?”

I giggled, pressing my hands against his chest. “You bought the dress.”

“And I knew you’d make it look even better than I imagined,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss me slowly, as if he wanted to savor the moment.

For once, things felt… light. I let myself melt into the affection, deciding to leave our recent tension about moving in behind for the night. I just wanted to enjoy my man.

Dinner was at a high-end steakhouse downtown, the kind of place with dim lighting, linen tablecloths, and jazz playing in the background. Jey was on his best behavior—keeping his hands on my thigh under the table, whispering sweet things in my ear between courses, making sure my glass stayed full. I loved moments like this.

By the time we left, I was feeling warm and content, my earlier worries buried beneath the buzz of good food and Jey’s presence. But as we drove further away from the city, the mood shifted.

I frowned. “Where we goin’?”

Jey smirked, eyes still on the road. “You’ll see.”

Minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of a decent sized suburban house. My stomach twisted. I had never been here before.

Jey parked and turned to me, nodding toward the house. “Come inside.”

I hesitated. Something about this felt… off. But this was Jey. I trusted him, didn’t I? I followed him up the steps and through the front door. The house was fully furnished—plush couches, framed art on the walls, a polished dining table, and soft lighting that made everything feel cozy.

I looked at him questioningly. “Jey… what is this? Whose house is this?”

Jey turned to me with a slow grin. “Our home. After your birthday, this where we’ll be livin’.”

My breath caught. Our home? My pulse quickened as I took another look around, realization sinking in. He had already planned everything without me. No conversation. No discussion. Just a decision he made for me.

“Jey, you can’t just decide that. You can’t keep doing this to me,” I said, voice tight.

Jey exhaled and closed the space between us, hands sliding up my arms. “Why you makin’ this a big deal? You know how good it’ll be, Nye.” He leaned in, brushing his lips along my jaw. “No more sneakin’ around. No more nights apart. Just me and you. Every night.”

I stiffened, torn between frustration and the way his kisses sent warmth through my body. “You don’t even ask, Jey. You just tell me what we doing.”

Jey kissed my neck slowly, his voice dropping lower. “Cause I know what’s best for us, baby.”

I wanted to push him away. I wanted to argue. But the way he was touching me, pulling me in, made everything blur. His hands trailed down my sides, gripping my hips as he walked me back toward the bedroom.

“Lemme show you how good it’ll be,” he murmured, lips ghosting over my ear.

My breath hitched as my back met the bed. Jey knew how to break my resolve. He knew the exact way to kiss me, the exact places to touch that made me forget—forget about the house, the plans, the fact that I was losing control of my own life.

His hands trailed lower, fingertips teasing over the delicate straps of my dress, his lips tracing the curve of my shoulder. His warmth wrapped around me like a promise—one that whispered of a life I wasn’t sure I could refuse. The air between us grew thick, charged with unspoken words and dangerous desires.

I should fight this. I should set my boundaries. But as Jey leaned over me, his breath hot against my skin, I let go.

For now. I could think about everything else later. This felt too good to fight it. So, I didn’t…

---

August 15th 1998

The ringing of the phone pulled me from my half-sleep. I had been laying on my bed, flipping through a magazine, lost in my thoughts when I finally grabbed the receiver.

"Girl, you comin' to the party for Sami or what?" Kiyah’s voice was already impatient.

I exhaled, rubbing my forehead. "I don’t know yet."

I was still mad at myself for giving in to Jey. I wasn’t sold on moving in no matter how good he made me felt.

"Nye, stop playin'. You know you ain't got no choice," she huffed. "You Jey's girl. He gonna expect you to be there."

I sighed. She was right. Whether I wanted to or not, Jey was going to want me at that party. And he’d throw a fit if I wasn’t.

"The twins are comin', too," Kiyah added. "Sami specifically wanted Natasha there. He been eyein’ her for a minute. He want that chocolate ill nana."

I chuckled to myself. I had noticed how Sami hovered around Natasha whenever she was around. "Fine, fine. I’ll go."

"Good, 'cause I’m on my way. Jacob let me borrow a car."

I sat up, realizing Kiyah was getting in deep. Just like me and Taya. Natasha could be next if Sami played his cards right.

---

By the time we got to the lounge, the party was already in full effect. The air was thick with smoke, laughter spilling from every corner of the dimly lit space. Drinks flowed freely, and bar food was being passed around like currency.

I spotted Sami immediately, pulling Natasha off to the side, his full attention locked on her. I smirked, realizing how smitten he was. Kiyah was draped under Jacob’s protective arm, whispering something in his ear that made him smirk. And then there was Nataya, sitting comfortably in Jimmy’s lap, eating while he nursed a drink and conversed with the men around him.

That’s when I saw it—a small pouch forming on her belly. She wasn’t going to be able to hide it much longer.

I made a mental note to pull her to the side later, but my attention shifted when my eyes landed on Jey. He was playing pool with Damian. My stomach knotted.

I knew they were friends, but it bothered me how much they were together. It was always the two of them. And Dulce wasn’t far either, lingering around the table like she was waiting for an opening.

I rolled my eyes and turned toward the bar, deciding to drink instead of engaging with Jey just yet. But he didn’t let me keep my distance for long. Before I knew it, he was on me, affectionate and intoxicated. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me close. "Why you ain't come straight to me when you got here, huh?" he murmured into my ear.

I was about to answer when the energy in the room shifted. Four men walked in, drawing everybody’s attention. Jey’s hold on me tightened before he abruptly let go, his whole posture changing. I looked up at him, confused, before glancing back at the men. One of them looked familiar, but I couldn’t place where I had seen him before.

Damian moved first, stepping in front of them, his stance aggressive. The conversation started off calmly before their voices grew louder, and then it clicked. The man who stood directly in front of Damian. I had seen that man before—at Tama’s house party. The one who spoke to me and who Jey fought that night.

My stomach flipped as Jey pulled away from me, his focus locked on the men. I reached for him, trying to pull him back, but he was already moving in their direction.

Jey’s voice was low, controlled. "We can take this outside."

My pulse spiked. I didn’t know who the other men were or what this was about, but I knew one thing—this wasn’t good. Jimmy was by Jey’s side in a heartbeat, and together with Damian and the other Prada Bois, they followed the men toward the exit.

Nataya and I locked eyes, the same thought running through our minds. Without a word, we moved in unison, following them outside. Something was about to happen, and I needed to see it for myself.

---

The humid night air clung to my skin, thick with the scent of sweat, spilled liquor, and burning rubber. My heart pounded as I stepped out of the lounge, the neon glow from the sign flickering above like a bad omen. Then, all hell broke loose.

Fists flew. Bodies slammed into car hoods. The night was alive with chaos. Could we go one night without the bullshit?

Jey and Damian were on the same man, the one Jey had already tangled with at Tama’s. Their fists were relentless, cracking against his ribs and face with sickening force. Jimmy and Sami were fighting off another dude, the scuffle dragging them toward the sidewalk. The men they were up against weren’t alone either—more of them lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike.

They definitely had planned to lure them outside and ambush them.

Jacob had a man in a chokehold against a car, his biceps flexed as the guy flailed weakly. Tama and Tonga moved like a synchronized storm, taking turns landing blows on another man who never saw them coming. Bronson wasn’t even fighting—he was destroying one of the dudes, his fists landing with a precision that made my stomach hurt. Blood splattered the pavement beneath him, the man barely holding himself up.

And then I saw it—him. A shadow moving in from the side, creeping up on Jey, a clenched fist ready to strike.

“Baby!” I screamed, sprinting before I even thought twice.

The man swung. The crack of impact sent Jey staggering forward, but he didn’t fall. I didn’t think—I just reacted. Wasn’t nobody about to whoop my man ass if I had anything to do with it.

I launched myself at the guy, swinging with everything in me. My fists connected, but I was outmatched. He caught my arm, yanked me off my feet, and slammed me onto the pavement so hard my breath vanished. Pain shot up my back, but before he could capitalize, a blur of movement exploded beside me.

Kiyah and Natasha.

They were on him in an instant, fists, nails, and heels flying. He barely had time to react before he was crumbling under their combined assault. I scrambled to my feet, my vision tunneling with rage, ready to join back in, but strong arms wrapped around my waist, dragging me back.

“Calm the fuck down,” Damian’s voice growled low in my ear, his grip firm and unyielding.

I kicked at the air, struggling. “Let me go!” I wasn’t done tagging his ass. Don’t nobody put they hands on me.

“Chill, Nyeya,” he warned, voice taut with authority. “Esta no es tu pelea.” (this ain’t your fight)

Jey had recovered by then, shaking off the hit he’d taken, his eyes locking on the man who dared put his hands on me. I barely had time to register what was happening before Jey lunged forward, tackling him like a linebacker. The guy hit the ground hard, and Jey was on top of him in an instant, fists hammering into his face with unrelenting fury.

The wail of police sirens shattered the air. Somebody had called them.

“Shit,” someone muttered.

The lounge owner stormed outside, waving his hands. “Aye! Break this shit up! The cops on the way!”

The energy shifted instantly. The Prada Bois started peeling away from their opponents, stepping back before things could escalate further. Jacob loosened his hold on the guy he was choking out, letting him drop like a sack of bricks. Tama and Tonga backed off, rolling their shoulders like they were just getting warmed up. But Jey wasn’t stopping.

His fists kept coming, blood coating his knuckles, his breathing ragged. He was lost in the violence, in the sheer need to make the man regret ever touching me.

I twisted against Damian’s hold. “Stop him! Damian stop him!”

Damian let out a sharp breath before finally releasing me, moving in to yank Jey back by the collar of his shirt. “Enough, dude! The cops are coming.”

Jey was breathing hard, his fists still clenched, but he finally backed away. His nostrils flared as the flashing red and blue lights became noticeable as they got closer to the scene. His chest rose and fell in sharp breaths, his eyes wild as they locked on mine.

The other men picked up the wounded from their crew, getting back into cars, pulling off with the quickness.

The police arrived shortly after, telling us all to get inside, their presence sending another ripple of tension through the room. My breath hitched as I prayed none of the Prada Bois would get hauled off. I knew how this went—one wrong word, one wrong move, and they’d find a reason to take somebody in.

The lounge owner wasted no time, stepping in with a practiced ease, his voice smooth as he explained to the officers that the fight had been started by the other men—outsiders who had crashed a private event looking for trouble. The police eyed everybody with suspicion, their gazes sweeping over the bruised faces and torn clothes.

For a moment, it felt like they weren’t buying it, but after some back and forth, and the lounge owner pressing that it was an unprovoked attack, they finally backed off. With a stiff warning, they turned on their heels and exited, their presence leaving a thick residue of unease behind.

Jey exhaled sharply, finally turning to me, his fingers grazing the cut on my elbow. The energy in the room was thick, suffocating. Across from us, Dulce was tending to Damian, but his attention was elsewhere—on me. I felt his gaze burning into my skin, an unspoken feelings passing between us that I quickly forced myself to ignore.

My arm throbbed, blood trailing in a thin line, but before I could assess the damage, Jey’s hands were on me, inspecting every inch.

Jey grabbed some napkins from a close by table and pressed them against my arm, his brows furrowed. "You gotta choose your battles more wisely, baby," he muttered, his voice laced with something deeper than concern.

Before I could respond, Damian stepped forward. "She good?" he asked, eyes flickering between me and Jey.

Jey didn’t even look up. "Yea. I got it handled, Uce. I appreciate you for looking out for her out there."

Damian nodded, but his expression told me he wasn’t convinced. The weight of everything that had just happened hung between us, unspoken but understood. I nodded at him, just to get him to let it go.

It seemed like chaos followed us no matter where we went. My head was still spinning from everything—the fight, the cops, the tension brewing in the air that felt like it was far from over.

---

Things seem to settle down but the moment broke when Jimmy’s voice rang out over the murmur of the crowd.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

Nataya was standing her ground, arms crossed, chin high. “What was you thinking? You think I was just gonna sit back and let them jump you?”

Jimmy raked a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “You pregnant, Taya. What the hell were you even doing outside in the first place? Especially when you carrying my baby.”

Everything stopped.

The words cut through the night like a blade. I felt my stomach drop as Natasha’s head snapped toward them so fast I thought she might get whiplash. “Baby?” she repeated, her voice dangerously quiet. “Did you just say baby?”

Jimmy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” she repeated, voice taut. “That’s all you gotta say?”

Jimmy exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “Yeah. Let’s not do this right now though.”

“Not now?” Natasha’s voice rose. “You got my sister pregnant, and you don’t wanna do this right fucking now.”

I gulped. This wasn’t supposed to come out especially right now in the mist of what just went down. Natasha had every right to be hurt though. That was her twin, who shared everything with her. I understood.

Natasha’s face twisted with disbelief. “And when the fuck was y’all gonna tell me? After she had the baby or when she could no longer hide it.”

Nataya looked at the ground, her hands protectively placed over her stomach. “We… I just needed time.”

Natasha inhaled sharply, stepping back like the air had been knocked out of her. “You needed time?” Her voice cracked, eyes flicking between her sister and Jimmy. “Are you kidding me, Taya?

Sami grabbed her by the arm, trying to hold her back. “Chill, Tasha.”

“Nah!” Natasha yanked away, her voice shaking. “This is crazy.”

Bronson, never one for dramatics, exhaled and clapped his hands together. “Aight, man, enough of this. We need to get outta here before the cops decide to circle back.”

Natasha wasn’t done though. She turned back to Jimmy. “So, what now, huh? What you gon’ do? You gon’ be around, or you gon’ leave my sister hanging?”

Jimmy’s jaw ticked, his patience wearing thin. “I already told her she ain't got nothing to worry about. She straight. My baby straight.”

Natasha scoffed. “Straight? Negro, y’all was just locked up not too long ago! How the hell you gon’ promise that?”

That hit a nerve. Jimmy’s entire posture shifted. “Watch your mouth, Nat.”

“Or what?” Natasha shot back, stepping closer.

Sami grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back. “Okay, that’s enough,” he muttered in her ear, and after a moment, she let him hold her there, her body still trembling with anger.

I looked at Nataya. She looked drained, her hands still protectively placed over her stomach. She didn’t have the fight in her right now, and I knew she just wanted this to be over.

Jey sighed next to me before stepping forward. “We handling this, aight? Everybody just relax.”

Natasha turned her glare on him. “You knew?”

Jey held his hands up. “Hell nah. I just found out like the rest of y’all.”

Natasha stared at him for a moment, deciding whether she believed him or not, before exhaling and shaking her head. “This is wild.”

Bronson clapped his hands again, louder this time. “Aight, we done here. This shit is done. Everybody go home, get your shit together. We got business to handle tomorrow.”

One by one, people started filing out. The energy in the room was still tense, but the immediate threat of another fight had passed. For most of them, it seemed like just another day.

Jey pulled me closer, brushing his fingers over the cut on my elbow. “C’mon, let’s go.”

I hesitated, glancing at Nataya. She met my eyes and gave me a small nod, silently telling me she’d be okay. I hugged her before following Jey out the door.

As we stepped into the cool night air, he pulled me into his car, his grip firm but careful. Once inside, he exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples. “Shit’s gettin’ messy.”

I didn’t respond. I just stared out the window, watching as Jimmy and Nataya stood by his car, talking in hushed voices. Kiyah, Natasha, along with Sami stood next to the car we all arrived in.

Jey reached over, his fingers grazing my thigh. “You with me, right?”

I turned to him, my mind racing with everything that had happened tonight, everything that had been revealed.

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah… I’m with you.”

I had told myself over and over that I was built for this life. That I could handle whatever came with it. But tonight made me wonder if I had just been lying to myself.

---

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[comfybutter]

“Thought I’d find you here,” Tsukasa says in a raspy voice over the waterfall.

Sanae splashes in surprise, but dips her ankles back into the water when the fox reveals herself from behind a tree. “Hi Tsukasa!” Sanae responds with an eager wave.

Tsukasa skulks over from behind, first over Sanae’s right shoulder, then switching to her left, making the shrine maiden turn her head. “May I sit?” she asks quietly, bowed at her hips to talk down to the woman.

“Yeah! Don’t scare the fish, though.” Sanae returns her gaze to the pond and idly swishes her legs in the water.

So Tsukasa does. Quite close to Sanae’s side, too, but it elicits no reaction from the shrine maiden. She leaves her shoes beside her, socks balled up inside, and dips her legs into the pond. Tsukasa opens her mouth to speak but-

“I guess fish don’t do that much in a day, huh,” Sanae says, her bright blue-green eyes trained on something in the water, swaying side to side slowly.

Tsukasa blinks, but allows herself a giggle. Ah, there it is in the water, a rice fish idly swimming back and forth far from the waterfall’s turbulent downpour.

“Have you ever thought about what it’s like being a fishy?” Sanae asks casually.

There’s a pause. “Can’t say that I have.” It’s always like this talking to the enigmatic woman. “But they do taste good.”

“Oh! Do you like eating them raw since you’re..?” Sanae asks, her bright gaze turning to blind Tsukasa.

She stares Sanae straight on and smirks. Tsukasa could yet win this conversation. Without a word, she turns from Sanae and raises her arms above her head, diving into the water with the smallest splash possible, and holds her breath.

Forty seconds of air left she dives towards the bottom, her eyesight acclimating to the darkness.

Thirty seconds of air left she sees the fish, potentially too small to really have an impact on Sanae. Too late now.

Twenty seconds left and she just can’t catch the damn thing. Her claws seem to push it out of the way, like oil and water.

Ten seconds later and it dawns on her that she has to face the music sooner or later. The image of flicking her hair back and smiling at Sanae with a fish beneath her fangs shatters. She swims upwards.

Wet, dirty blond hair clumps in her eyes, but Tsukasa knew Sanae was staring with all too much eye contact.

“Did you eat it?”

A brief silence. “No.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I was going to catch the fish.” She couldn’t remember whatever busy work Megumu had sent her on at this point. Her wet clothing — which should’ve been an asset — clung rather uncomfortably as she gets out of the water.

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so!” Sanae raises her staff high above her head and closes her eyes. For a brief moment, it smells like fresh rain on dry dirt.

Then, the waterfall begins raining fish. They’re jumping by the dozens into the pond, flowing down the stream. It lasts a bit longer than the initial shock of the moment, leaving Tsukasa blinking dumbfounded as the mountain pond splashes with life.

Sanae plucks a fish out of the water and holds it out. It flops wetly in her hand, but doesn’t budge. “Here you go!”

Tsukasa searches the shrine maiden’s face, looks at the fish, then back up at those eyes. It’s a ‘gift’. Against her better judgment, she accepts it.

That night, she leaves with a few fish and a towel around her shoulders. She failed to learn what the Moriyas were up to, made a fool of herself, and — even if the other woman doesn’t realize — put herself in Sanae’s debt. All for a few fish and an hour of making eyes at the shrine maiden.

Naturally, Tsukasa makes plans to meet again, not that Sanae knows.

[fayes-fics]

Skinny-Dip

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: A chance encounter in a rooftop pool after midnight

Warnings: Nudity, flirting. banter. Nothing explicit.

Word Count: 1.0 k (250 words drabbles I am too funny)

Authors Note: Eleventh in my 2k Follower Celebration drabbles. This is a request fill for @musicismyoxygen84 with the prompt “I forgot my towel” (ask here). Sorry lovely, I have no idea where this came from, but I hope you don't mind it. Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

“We have to!” you point excitedly at the rooftop pool.

“You’re on your own…”

“C'mon, it will be funnnnn,” you insist. “I'm not suggesting skinnydipping; just dip our toes in!”

“Nooo. Bed for me. Too tipsy, Enjoyyyyy,” she slurs and pats your cheek.

And thus, you find yourself, without your best friend, making your way outside to the rooftop pool at 1 am. 

When you get there, there’s a lovely gentle breeze and the lights of the city twinkle all around. It’s quite magical in some ways. Or maybe that's the wine talking.

You are humming to yourself, removing your shoes and sitting at the pool edge, when you belatedly realise you are not alone. Someone is already in the pool at the far end. It's a man, only his head above the water, and he appears to be looking over at you slightly sheepishly as if you have interrupted something that he shouldn't be doing. Now that you are paying attention, you can see he is rather handsome.

“Miss, please could you do me a favour?” his smooth, refined, posh really, voice rings out.

Your brow knits. “What?”

“I don't suppose you could pass me one of those, could you?” he requests politely, nodding to the rack on the wall behind you. “I forgot my towel.”

“Why can't you get one yourself?” you retort with alcohol-induced bluntness after a brief look behind.

“I wasn't expecting anyone else to come out here…” he begins, and there appears to be an adorable tint high on his cheekbones.

“So?” you shrug.

“Well, I had thought a skinny dip would be refreshing…” he confesses awkwardly.

And the penny drops.

“Ohhhh….” 

You can't help it; your gaze drops. But even with the pool lit underwater, you can't make anything out at this distance. Sadly. If only there weren't so much chop in the water, you might have a better ch…

“Don't you believe me or something?” he questions with a teasing lilt, and you guiltily snap your eyes back to his face and see the smug crooked smile there. He knows exactly what you were doing.

“Sorry, I… look, it's a natural reaction…” you throw your hands up, your tipsy brain not bothering to attempt a lie. “I’d do the same if you told me there was a plane in the sky. I’m going to look. It’s who I am.” 

“There is a plane in the sky,” he fires back deadpan, and you look up on instinct.

Sure enough, there are indeed some telltale blinking lights.

“Well, at least you were being honest.” he chuckles.

You stick your tongue out, and that makes him laugh harder.

“So… towel? Please?” he looks hopeful.

You lean back casually on your hands, knowing it pushes out your breasts, and cock your head to the side. This could be fun.

“That seems like a you problem,” you shoot back with a raised eyebrow. You want to see where this could go. If nothing else, it's a fun flirtation.

He gapes at you momentarily, and then he smirks.

“If I have to get out naked to get one for myself, it will surely become a you problem?” he opines, swimming towards you.

“I’m willing to run that risk,” you answer back, and there's a little frisson through your body as he draws closer, and you can see just how attractive he is. Oh shit, that is one handsome face.

“Well, I suppose I should introduce myself as you insist on seeing me in the altogether,” he states drily as he draws up right in front of where your feet dangle into the water. “I’m Benedict,” he offers as he stands up to full height in the water.

And for a split second, you just stare. Watching rivulets of water run from broad shoulders onto a smooth, toned chest smattered with freckles down to a tapered waist. Oh shit, that is an excellent body too.

“Y/n…” you respond, distracted, your tongue feeling heavier in your mouth.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” The tone is warm, pitched lower and something in your gut flutters. 

“Likewise,” you respond, feeling a tug of a smile at the corner of your lips. “And for the record, I am not insisting on anything. You could stay in this pool until I am done dipping my toes, and then there is no need to show me anything,” you point out with a wry tone.

“And how long might that be?” he inquires, bemused, crossing his arms in a way that seems to intentionally enhance the muscle in his arms. Bastard.

“Ah, that's one of life’s great mysteries, isn't it?” you shoot back, feeling a glow spreading behind your ribs that this could be something. It's been a while since you flirted so easily with anyone, especially anyone this handsome.

“There is another answer to the dilemma here,” he offers, dipping back into the water and pulling up to your left side.

“I’m listening….” you gaze down at him, captured by his soft hazy eyes.

“If you were skinny dipping too, then we would be equally embarrassed,” he offers nonchalantly with a lazy smile, kicking his body out backwards, intentionally, so you can see that he is indeed very naked. And his bottom and legs are very shapely too. You are left in no doubt now, and the spike of endorphins through your bloodstream is exhilarating.

“Now there is an idea…” you flirt back and, throwing caution to the wind, push off your hands and slip into the pool. The cool water is a balm to your heated body, flush with excitement and possibility.

“You're still dressed,” he twists towards you and pouts, eyes sparkling, that killer lopsided grin returning.

“Am I…?” you volley back and raise an eyebrow as you peel off your top and throw it onto the poolside.

The look he shoots you is blistering, and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, you are about to tick ‘sex in a pool’ off of your bucket list. 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep

[breadbrioche]

split ends

superbi squalo x reader

➳summary: you wonder if squalo would let anyone brush his hair for him

➳warnings: n/a

➳ word count: 600

➳a/n: when it comes to khr i like writing stupid shit so here this is lol this isnt proof read whatsoever so it might be dogshit whoops sorry

“Voi, I’m done with the shower.”

You crack an eye open to peer over to the direction of the voice from the hotel bed where you were flopped on and see Squalo exiting the bathroom, towel around his neck and skin still flushed from his evidently hot shower. You take a long inhale, acknowledging him, before burying your face into the pillow.

“Can’t be bothered. I’m too tired…” you murmur, eyelids already half closing.

Squalo scoffs and you hear his heavy footsteps pad towards you before he pulls you up by your arm but you try your hardest to resist him.

“Voi, don’t be fucking nasty!” Squalo insists. “Just get up and wash already, you’re fucking filthy”

“You’re so loud!” You complain as you thrash against him, desperately clinging onto any semblance of sleep you had. You clutch a section of his hair and tug - a last ditch effort to make him stop bothering you. Though if you were fully awake, you would have realised that such an action would naturally produce the opposite reaction out of Squalo.

“OW-! WHAT THE FUCK!!”

As he squawked even louder than he already was, you didn’t bother releasing the long lock of hair in your hand. You idly played with it in your sleep deprived state, twirling it between our fingers as you tune out his screaming.

While it was still damp, Squalo’s hair felt silky and healthy; undoubtedly thanks to his rigorous maintenance of it. As you rub the stands between your fingers, you wonder how long it would take to do his routine; hell, you wonder how such a busy guy like Squalo even has time to do it.

What if he has someone to brush his hair for him while he does work? You shoot down that idea before you could fully form it; knowing Squalo he’d kill them if they snagged a knot or something. Then you start to think what would happen if you were the one to brush it.

“Can I brush your hair?” You ask him casually, interrupting his tirade. He looks at you incredulously, eyebrows almost reaching his hairline. He snatches his hair back from your grip and finally stands up straight over you.

“Have you not been fucking listening to me?!”

“No.” You state shortly and you can hear Squalo inhale, ready to continue his angry berating. “But can I though?”

“Why should I?”

“Well I’ve realised you’ve never let me do it before. C’mon, pleaaase?” You drawl out, finally sitting up. You look at him with a begging pout and you almost laugh at how disgusted he looks. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Squalo continues to eye you suspiciously despite your truly innocent intentions for once which makes you sigh, disheartened.

“What about this;” you begin to propose. “If I brush your hair - and I’ll be very gentle and quick about it - I’ll take a shower like you told me to”

He scoffs and tosses his hair over his shoulder. “You’re fucking disgusting to use your hygiene as a betting chip.”

“Yeah but only because-“

“For fuck’s sake- if I let you do this, will you shut up?”

With an elated gasp, you spring up immediately, nodding your head furiously. Squalo rolls his eyes at your sudden enthusiasm but throws a comb at you nevertheless. He turns away from you and perches himself at the edge of the bed, which he feels warping as you shuffle to meet him.

“If you pull my hair again, I’ll fucking kill you” Squalo warns over his shoulder.

You giggle; your hypothesis was right.

“Of course, Captain!”

[scarletnakazato]

In the spirit of summer(ugh it’s still freezing over here but still)— what are your hc’s about a beach date?

• All Initial D Male and Female Characters • Word Count: 1,782. • Synopsis: In which you're on a beach date with the lovely boys and girls. • Note: Thank you for the cute ask Anon, apologies it took me forever to get to it!

Keisuke: Will go in the water with you for a bit, but I feel like this guy gives into his primal urges and likes to dig holes in the sand. Will probably dig a massive pit and shape it into a circular sitting lounge, sticking the umbrella in the centre to shade the entire pit and sit with you in it while you sip on cold fruity drinks after being in the hot sun for hours. If you both stay the whole day and sunset comes around, he’ll take you to a beachside restaurant or pub to sit outside and watch the sun set over the ocean while you eat and drink.

Ryosuke: He’d indulge you and go in the water with you a bit, but he seems more of the type to relax under the umbrella and simply enjoy the breeze and the warmth while staying under the shade to not burn, he’s pretty pale. Would also love to enjoy the sunset with you at a beachside restaurant with a walk on the pier together to enjoy the views before leaving for the night.

Takumi: If he’s not zoned out and blushing at the sight of you in a swim suit, he’d follow you around as you collect shiny shells and hold them for you in his hands, finding it adorable how you take the scavenging seriously and fish through the shallow water for them, sometimes get caught with a sneaky wave and get submerged for a second before popping back up, hair soaked and sticking to your face before plopping a shell or two in his hands and continuing on, earning a chuckle from him.

Takeshi: Oh, yes. Sure, it may have been your idea to go to the beach for the ocean, but those plans changed the minute he took his black t-shirt off, casually setting it atop your towel bag. His hair was left messy, seeing as gelling it would be useless if he’s gonna go in the water. His little messy strands on his forehead are doubled now that his hair was left natural. The water was completely forgotten as you sat on the large towel, simply staring and admiring his form. He’d give you one of those raised brows, his lips pressing together in a “really babe?” expression once he caught on to what you were doing. Don’t be surprised when he picks you up to carry you to the water, enjoying how you’re squirming around to get out of his hold, but also enjoying how easily those defined arms are holding you. The clear smirk on his face tells you he knows the effect he has on you before he drops his arms without warning, dropping you straight into the water. Only he’s surprised when you grab onto him at the last minute, taking him with you.

Shingo: Is a little shit. He’ll straight up carry you over his shoulder before Batista bombing you into the water like a WWE fighter. You’d resurface and find him laughing his ass off with that high pitched voice of his before deciding to take him with you and knock his legs out from under him, making him squawk before he goes under. Gives you the same unimpressed look you gave him after he comes back up. If you both go to back to shore to lay on towels, he’ll try to get a tan but with how pale he is, he burns easy so he’ll tan first, looking like how he did in Final Stage, but then the sunburn will come in a few hours later. Refuses to sunbathe again after that, going back to being pale and pasty instead of tan and tasty once again. He’d take you to a pub as well, but as I’ve previously headcanoned for him, he’s a lightweight, so expect to be driving the EG6 back home.

Itsuki: Probably got a beach date by doing that double date stuff with Takumi and Natsuki, or even when the SpeedStars went to the waterpark with Sayuki and Mako. You’d be a friend of one of the girls and basically be Itsuki’s date for the day. Though, he’d spend more time gawking and daydreaming about “hot babes in bikinis” than actually holding a simple conversation with you and spending time in the water or going down waterslides together if its at a waterpark. Typical Itsuki, heh.

Iketani: Holds it together better than Itsuki, will actually go in the water with you, maybe try to play volleyball with the large blowup beach ball. If it’s another double date, he’d be on your team of course, even if it’s against your friends. If it’s not a double date, he’s pretty much down for whatever you want to do. Doesn’t mind sitting back and relaxing at a table, or laying on towels with snacks and drinks while you two talk about cars, hobbies and anything else that interests you. He’s just happy to spend time with you.

Kenji: Similar to Iketani, just loves enjoying the moment. Definitely is the one to drive you to the beach, making a fun road trip out of it. Will like to check out nearby shops for goodies, and get one of those disposable cameras to take pictures of you in your element, and even request some where you pose in front of his car. Bro’s living the high life. Will totally rub it in Iketani and Itsuki’s face, showing him the pictures and going on about how hot you are, much to the dismay of the Lonely Drivers™.

Kenta: Will sunbathe 100%. As seen in Project D when Keisuke and Takumi get to sleep in that lovely hotel, the rest of the Project is “chilling” in the middle of summer under a tree in the shade. Except Kenta. Bro’s tanning full on. He’d be cool if you wanted to go out and do your own thing, play in the water, build sandcastles, dig holes, whatever, as long as he can get a good tan in, he’s a happy guy. I definitely see him falling asleep at some point, most likely on his stomach while he tans his back, and you decide to just bury him in the sand, putting scoop after scoop on top of him until it’s just his neck and head showing. He’ll have an uneven top tan and be mad about it lol. His front looks good, but his back is probably paler since he was covered by then and didn’t know about it. His sleeping mind wouldn’t process it either since the sand made him warm with the sun soaking it up so it’d feel the same to him.

Kyoichi: Doesn’t strike me as a beach enjoyer. I feel like his tough guy act and pride would tell him that enjoying the beach is a wuss boy’s activity. However, he’s more than happy to watch you enjoy yourself and admire your form in that swimsuit. Would definitely take you out to a bar later to fit his tough guy vibe, and give you his large jacket to keep you warm, but more so to keep you covered and prevent weird guys from staring at what’s his for a second too long. Only the Emperor gets to admire his Empress for longer than a second.

Rin:  Takes you on a romantic walk along the shoreline at early sunset. Ankle deep in the water as it rises and lowers periodically, enjoying each other’s company and talking about anything. Will take you to a scenic pier or nearby shrine overlooking the water after the sun goes down and perhaps dinner shortly after.

Go: Water fights you, hands down. Loses very quickly because he’s easily distracted by the water droplets flowing down your boobs and into your top. When you notice him standing still too long and catch on, not even registering your hand waving in his face, he’s completely unprepared to be tackled head on and dunked into the water. You wrestle him in the shallow water with alarming strength telling him that you’ll “cleanse his dirty mind of boobs forever” as you dunk his head in the water several times like a baby getting baptized.

Wataru: Is down to do anything, really. Will take you to the beach early in the morning so you have plenty of time to check out shops, restaurants, ice cream stands and more. Will also get a disposable camera, happy to take pictures of you with his car, building stuff in the sand, going in the water, any and all of it. Will help bring you buckets of water for your sand creations if you need more to help shape it. He’s rewarded with a kiss and “What would I do without my muscley hero, hmm?”

Nobuhiko: Seems pretty chill, would probably prefer to sit back and relax over anything else. Would go for a short walk with you before he’s ready to cool off under the shade again. I see him being temperature sensitive so he gets hot or cold easily. Would pack a bunch of snacks and drinks for you two to have as you lay on the towels, taking in the moment.

Mako: Would enjoy having some fun with beach volleyball. If it’s a double date with Sayuki, she’d team up with her against you and your friend and get as fiercely competitive as she does behind the wheel. Inadvertently kicks Sayuki’s ass and smiles all innocently about it. She also loves sitting back and enjoying some talking with you and learn new things about you and vice versa.

Sayuki: With how energetic she seems to be, I feel like she’d want to go to a waterpark over the beach like she did with the SpeedStars and Mako after the Usui race. Would drag you with her on all the rides and go in the massive wave-pool. If they had any little competition activities, she’d sign up right away and go full send, having every intention of winning. She’d be down for an early evening dinner and drive after to unwind and relax.

Kyoko: She’s the one who drives you both to the beach. Can’t go a day without driving her FD and would ask you to take pictures of her and with her next to the car. Like the time Natsuki asked a nearby guy to take pictures of her and Takumi at the beach, she’d do the same to a passerby while she hugs your arm or side sweetly, smiling bright for the camera before thanking the person and taking off with you to enjoy the water and find a couple fancy shells as keepsakes.