#friendly talk with gray faces

[onethousandrbirds]

hey! sorry to ask, i'm just curious but i cannot figure it out — what is the one that's suspiciously missing from those bad kink posts? (i tried looking at the notes for clues but lasted about a second before being taken out by the people asking this random person on the internet what kind of sex they're allowed to have. i feel like i'd need... idk a psychology degree to even begin to understand how someone gets there.)

oh, no big. i wrote both of my posts to be both playfully obtuse—you were never going to find clues in the notes b/c i don't think anyone there noticed the same thing i did. also this might be a bit long, so feel free to skip down to the TLDR; under the cut

so in both linked posts that i was responding to the overall thesis is "being pro-kink doesn't mean loving all of them but it does mean recognizing that what consenting adults do together is neither a moral failing or any of your business" and they mention some controversial kinks (ageplay, cnc, incest shipping, fauxcest, petplay, somnophilia, intoxication kinks, and much more¹) as an example of this idea.

because they name kinks that people often find themselves having intense feelings about re: their morality and their ethical performance, i noticed within these lists a lack (technically a lot of lacks since it would be impossible to list off every controversial kink in existence, but that's neither here nor there in this moment). but for example, in posts that gesture towards this overall idea of "pro-kink" or "neutral support of kink" often seem incapable of recognizing that kinks based on bigotry—race play for instance (this will serve as my main example for the rest of this response)—exist as well.

and my observation that i was originally talking around was that perhaps kinks like that one can't be brought up alongside the others (regardless of the baggage they all may carry) because maybe the OP really does think that one is a unique brand of evil or because their knowledge of kink is pretty limited and thus their own perspective of their idea might be limited or because they recognize that to even broach that topic with something that degree of abject would get a theoretical reader to stop listening entirely. but who knows for sure though?

like, that particular kink does make me VERY uncomfortable (for obvious reasons, i hope) and so whenever i see posts like the two linked here that gesture broadly to "scary" kink being okay but somehow never seem to mention ones like this, i get suspicious. and that's not a ding on either of these posts i'm responding to! instead it's me doing a meta thought experiment of sorts. like the posts are right: if you are "pro-kink and pro-weird nasty gay sex" then you do have to accept that there's gonna be something in that classification you will find abject but your disgust doesn't define the morality of those acts. however! it's pretty easy to remember that in the face of kinks that maybe only exist as abstract ideas and that you may have only dealt with in the theoretical space rather than ones that may (or may seem) to effect you on a material level!

which brings me back to the absence of mentioning certain "bad" kinks. i've been in school studying literary analysis for the past 12 years of my life. one of the earliest things they teach you to do is "observe what a text is saying, but also what it is (or can)not." and so when i see posts like the two linked above i can't help but find it interesting (in a completely neutral sense, i swear) when i notice these recurring absences. i also can't help but speculate about them either, but speculation requires active thought which i might not always have the wherewithal for.

(and to digress re: the weird discussion you noticed in the notes: that just sounds like people cosmically missing the point to avoid thinking about the matter at hand.)

so tldr; there isn't a "one" actually. i was just observing that, even in a laissez faire approach to kink, something has to still remain unspeakable or unmentioned—especially when communicating to groups of people who might stop listening entirely if one takes the laissez fair perspective to its logical conclusion in an explicit manner or if one feels that perspective might require them to "accept/like/tolerate" things which may be pretty dang close to sources of harm in their everyday life.

i hope this all made sense/helped

¹ the "and much more" in this post technically covers the wide swath of even more unforgivable/unspeakable kinks but notice: still it cannot/does not/will not name drop them specifically and instead rhetorically relies on you, the reader, to fill in that blank for it

[chuluoyi]

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑

- xavier x reader

a new friendly colleague has joined your team, but your boyfriend is convinced he is up to no good... and that's why xavier is determined to show it that you are his

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, fluff explicit smut: slightly rough sex, fingering, doggy style, based on xavier's card misty silhouette

note: skxmskcjsf bye don't look at me. this fanart and xavier's card messed me up :') this banner is so unhealthy for me i swear </3

Xavier knew he wasn’t the most patient person.

But even patience, he thought, has limits. And he had been patient and reasonable for a week, to be precise.

It all started ever since that damned new recruit entered his team. He didn't know why, but he kept coming to you for everything—directions, advice, even trivial nonsense like lunch recommendations. It was almost as if on purpose.

This afternoon was no different. Xavier had been looking forward to having lunch with you—just the two of you. You’d promised him, after all.

And yet—

“There was this one time I got trapped inside the N109 Zone—”

“N109 Zone!?”

“Yes!”

“Really?! What did you do then?”

“Hmm, so at first, I was in total panic, but then—”

For the past 15 minutes, your lunch break had been taken over by recounting your tales of valor as a hunter to the new recruit. Nearby, Xavier sat in brooding silence, scathingly sparing him a glance. The slight frown on his face said it all—blatant disinterest and a touch of irritation.

And you too... why are you engaging him so enthusiastically?

Then again, given his age, Xavier knew he had to be mature about this. He tried, really. If it had been someone like Jeremiah, he might have let it slide.

But there was just something about this new recruit—Sean, was it?—that rubbed him the wrong way.

“Whoa, you're so cool, Miss Y/N!” Sean exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with admiration. “Not only are you pretty and talented, but you're also incredibly skilled! What do you even lack, eh?”

“Really, it's not that much,” you giggled, brushing him off. The way you got sheepish only made Xavier’s annoyance flare even further.

“Let me guess— a boyfriend!”

So that’s what it was. Now Xavier understood what about Sean that set him off. The entire time you’d been talking, he had been giving you those googly eyes.

He didn't like it one bit. He looked ridiculous while doing it.

Despite being silent as a mouse all the way, before he could stop himself, he blurted, “She has a boyfriend already.”

You turned to him in surprise, clearly not expecting him to announce it so bluntly.

“Oh...? Xavier, you know who her boyfriend is...?” Sean turned to him with curiosity.

He noticed it. How his expression fell ever so slightly upon he told him that you were already taken. Xavier huffed and stuffed his mouth with his ramen.

“Yeah. Her boyfriend lives next door.”

Technically, he lived upstairs, but the detail didn’t matter. He just needed to make his point known.

And somehow, for the rest of the day, the new recruit finally seemed to develop some sense—at least enough to stop hovering around you so frequently. Particularly when Xavier was nearby.

“Xavier... why did you tell him that?”

You fell into step beside your quiet boyfriend as the two of you headed home that evening, tilting your head as you replayed the events of the afternoon.

Xavier gave you a brief glance before looking straight ahead again, ignoring your question.

You observed him. There it was again—that gray cloud hovering over him. It always seemed to appear when he was in a bad mood.

Puckering your lips, you pressed further. “We haven’t even told anybody else about our relationship... And what you did there—you’re literally telling him we’re dating.”

“So what?” he shot back, his tone sharper than usual. “Are you afraid people might find out we are? Or—”

Xavier abruptly stopped in his tracks, turning to face you. His usually vibrant blue eyes darkened, piercing into yours with a sharp gleam. “Are you afraid he will find out?”

There was something in his gaze that held you captive—that made your silly heart skip a beat.

“N-no...” you looked away, swallowing the heat that were about to take over your face. Why does Xavier look kind of... hot like that...?

Your cheeks warmed regardless, but you had to appease him. “Like I told you before, I just thought it’d be easier if this stays our little secret. It’s less of a bother if they don’t know…”

Reaching for his hand, you gave it a reassuring squeeze and flashed him a soft smile. “Besides, why would I be afraid if he knows? My boyfriend is cool, handsome, and the best hunter there is.”

You watched as Xavier's expression softened, the tension melting away. A faint blush crept up his cheeks too, and the gray cloud that had loomed over him finally disappeared. He squeezed your hand in return, looking away as if to hide the way he got bashful.

Adorable. For all his brooding, your boyfriend was surprisingly easy to soothe.

For the rest of the walk back to your apartment, you two remained hand-in-hand, the tension of the afternoon slipping away with each step.

. . .

You were staying over at Xavier's place tonight. After a relaxing bath and a hearty dinner, the two of you found yourselves standing side by side in the kitchen, doing the dishes together.

It was mundane things like this that Xavier considered his favorite routine to do with you. Just as you handed him the last plate to dry, you spoke up, your voice breaking the quiet hum of contentment—

“Xavier, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

“I was just thinking... Sean seems nice and friendly, but from what I’ve seen, you seem kind of... unwelcoming— almost hostile even towards him.”

At your words, a frown etched itself onto Xavier’s forehead as he turned to face you fully. You seemed so oblivious, standing there with a look of genuine curiosity.

“Do you really not know?” he questioned you incredulously.

You blinked. “Know what?”

Damn it. Xavier sighed and put down the dish he was holding, but the words faltered on his tongue as a sour expression crossed his face. “No matter,” he muttered under his breath.

He took a deliberate step closer, his movements slow and heavy, and you instinctively backed away—

“So,” he said, his voice low, his blue eyes boring into yours as he took one hot step forward after another, “while Sean is nice and friendly, I’m hostile and unwelcoming, huh?”

—only to find yourself pressed against the window, unable to retreat further.

He stood in front of you now, his arms caging you in, creating a barrier that sealed off any chance of escape.

Uh-oh. Apparently, you had flipped that switch—

The air between you grew thick, and you could feel your pulse quicken under the weight of his gaze. “That’s not what I'm getting at—”

“He’s been eyeing you all day, following you around... getting lunches with you—”

In that moment, your phone erupted to life, its ringtone cutting through the tension. It sat on the small table near the windowsill, and Xavier gave it a quick glance, his expression darkening upon seeing Sean's name flash on the screen.

“Oh?” His voice dropped lower, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes. “He’s now calling you at nights too?”

“No!” you quickly refuted, your words tumbling out almost too fast. “Xavier, don’t get the wrong idea—”

He tilted your jaw to face him, holding your spooked gaze. “Then what idea am I supposed to be getting when he’s so blatantly pursuing you and you don't even do anything about it?”

The plot twist is... you know. Of course you knew it when a guy was trying to make a move on you, you just pretended not to notice it because it was easier that way. You didn’t know which devil had planted this rotten idea in your head that made you want to push Xavier to the edge, just to see how he'd react when he held nothing back—

The call tonight was a coincidence though, but definitely fueled your lover's ire even more. It was a dangerous game, but now that you’d crossed this line, you couldn't go back any longer.

Your lips curled into a bewitching smile then, and your boyfriend was almost mystified. "So, what will you do to me?"

Xavier looked at you with slightly widened eyes, not expecting your boldness at all. But then he grimaced, as at the same time, the irritation in his veins suddenly flared up—

With a swift, fluid motion, he turned you that you faced the window, his right arm wrapping around your waist from behind as he pressed his body against yours—his hardness pressing, almost poking you.

“You’re so clueless,” he growled into your ear before going after your neck, sucking hard and fast. His hips began to grind against you, pressing harder with each movement. “Too damn clueless...!”

His fingers that gripped your belly moved then, slipping inside your frisky nightgown to finger you— and you lost all your wits in that instant. “Ah-h—!”

Two of his fingers pumped in and out of you, dragging them almost rashly, and it took everything in you to stay upright. "X-Xavier!"

“Mmph,” he breathed against the skin of your neck, his other arm pressing you against him tighter, simultaneously squeezing your breasts. "You asked for it."

Your thighs were trembling in no time, and your breaths came in shaky moans. Your boyfriend was not exactly gentle, but this is probably the first time in a while that he was being rough without reservations. While you wanted to protest, it felt too good—

He turned your face towards him then, crashing his lips on yours.

It almost felt like you were punished, but you couldn't do anything about it. The tension in your lower belly was steadily building, ready to snap at any moment, and the way his fingers relentlessly hitting that one unforgivable spot was starting to made you dizzy.

"Ah—ngh!" You finally shuddered when you reached your climax. It was freeing when you felt yourself burst on his fingers, the release smearing your thighs.

And right then your knees buckled—

But Xavier immediately got a secure hold over you, lifting your body effortlessly into his arms, one hand supporting your knees, the other cradling your back. Through your teary eyes, you met his gaze once more. His expression was unreadable, a dark haze of disapproval clouding his features.

“I’m not done yet.”

He brought you over to his bed, gently lying you down despite the roughness of his voice. He parted your legs, getting himself between them—

Ring! Ring!

The shrill sound of your phone pierced the coolness of the room, and you almost jolted.

But your lover... the sound was like a spell to him, only intensifying his irritation as his features twisted with frustration, and you knew that he was about to take it on you.

As if changing his mind, Xavier suddenly flipped you over that you laid on your stomach and straddled you from behind. He quickly turned your head to face him and claimed your lips in a deep, urgent kiss.

“Mm, hmmp—!” The ringtone of your phone blared in the background, a jarring sound that wasn't pleasant at the slightest. It wasn’t until it finally stopped that he pulled away from the kiss.

You were gasping for breath, your chest heaving, and a stray tear slipped from your eyes. Xavier stared at you, and gently wiped it away with his thumb.

Flushed, sweaty, tearful... you looked so enchanting in his eyes in that moment. He almost felt bad that he had manhandled you this roughly.

Almost.

His hands gripped your waist, and he paused, his gaze locked with yours, silently seeking your approval— or more like, commanding you to give it to him.

In response, you arched your back— a silent affirmation, bracing yourself.

From then on, he was no longer holding back. He tugged your panties down and let his throbbing member out of his pants. It was laughable how insatiable he was— both of you were still clothed, save for his unbuttoned shirt, but he was already this aroused and hard.

He nudged forward, his tip breaching your entrance. The feeling of that familiar stretch left you keeling, babbles and whimpers falling from your lips as he slowly eased into you.

It was hard to take him in fully, and you were a mess of breathy gasps the moment you did. But you were in for the main ride when he started ramming into you, pushing in and out of you in a merciless pace.

"Ah... Xavier!" you panted between thrusts, feeling how it started to be too much for you the more he went on. "Ahh, hrah!"

Behind you, Xavier groaned in reply, his lips sucking your shoulder as his hips quickened, striving to bring you to the peak faster. One of his large hands dug into the skin of your stomach, urging your back to arch more, while the other clasped yours, fingers entwined in the sheets.

He watched intently as your face twisted and contorted in ecstasy, a surge of pride swelling within him, greater than he thought possible.

It was mind-blowing, slightly forceful, and your senses were all heightened. The harsh pace drew cries from your lips, your tears falling to the sheets, yet the pleasure also catapulted you into the stars—

The sinful delight of having him so deep within you.

The sinful rapture of being thrusted over and over.

“Ahhh!” And then, all at once, it was as if heaven and hell collided in a cataclysmic burst. Everything inside you shattered as you cried out—a scream morphing into a high-pitched gasp—as the two of you reached the climax together. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your walls clasped around him impossibly tight as Xavier filled you with everything that he had in one shot.

You collapsed against the sheets like a ragdoll, the pressure finally easing from your sore spine.

“Hello? Yes, it’s Xavier...”

The morning after. You stirred awake, your mind still foggy with sleep, as muffled voices filtered in from outside the bedroom.

“I have to take an urgent leave today...”

You were still utterly drained, your body heavy and unwilling to move. Instinctively, your hand reached out to your side, searching for your lover, but the spot was empty.

“Yes. Y/N too. She isn’t well today... We will be back tomorrow...”

You let out a soft, tired whine, your voice plaintive, as you lay sprawled across the bed, wishing for his warmth to return. Honestly, everything was still sore, and you were this close to tears again.

The door then opened with a creak not long after, and you let out a whimper, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Are you awake...?” Xavier's voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he stepped closer to the bed.

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry. He was already dressed, his crisp appearance in stark contrast to your disheveled state. In his hand, he held a small plastic bag.

“What’s that...?” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as you struggled to prop yourself up, curiosity flickering through your tired gaze.

“Don’t get up too quickly,” Xavier murmured, his hands steady as he caught you mid-movement. He guided you back down and tucked the blankets snugly around you, his touch gentle yet firm. “Just rest for now.”

A low hum of contentment escaped you as you leaned into his touch. Your bleary eyes focused solely on him, and despite himself, Xavier found a smile tugging at his lips.

“I just went to the drugstore downstairs to get you some painkillers,” he explained, lifting the small plastic bag slightly. “Take them after you’ve had some breakfast later.”

He then fixed you a bashful grimace, looking down. “Sorry for... uh, last night... I think I’ve pushed you too far.”

His fingers reached out, brushing gently against your cheek. The same fingers that had driven you to the brink of madness the night before now so tender against your skin. “You were crying,” he murmured, guilt lacing his voice. “I feel bad.”

“Mm-hm, so that’s what happens when you don’t hold back at all,” you snickered softly, the corners of your mouth curving despite the lingering ache in your body.

Xavier shifted his gaze away, his confidence faltering. “Will you... hate me for it?”

It was hard to contain your smile from breaking out into a grin. Your boyfriend, a ferocious wolf in a sheep’s clothing, had no need for this shy charade when he had railed you that hard last night.

“No, but you’re going to have to make it up to me. I can’t even walk now.”

Xavier blinked before he patted your head. “Yeah, I’ll fulfill any of your wishes,” he sighed in relief, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. “So, what is it?”

You paused for a moment, then with a mischievous glint in your eye, you said, “Take me to the bathroom? I want to have a shower first.”

And, of course, he obliged. With a effortless motion, Xavier scooped you up into a princess carry, holding you close. His arms cradled you with care, and you rested against his chest, the warmth of his embrace offering a sense of security.

Just like that, you spent the rest of the day as lovers, sleeping in with careless abandon, unburdened by your duties.

Epilogue

Later in the afternoon, you were once again deep in a sleep as Xavier cuddled you close, when suddenly the doorbell of his apartment rang incessantly.

Frowning, Xavier carefully eased himself out of bed, making sure not to disturb your slumber. He moved quietly towards the door, and when he saw the intercom, his frown worsened.

Sean, the newbie, was at his doorstep. He had half a mind to ignore him, but after a beat, he decided to open the door.

“What do you want?” his voice sharp with annoyance.

“Oh, Xavier!” The guy was stunned for a moment as his eyes lingered on Xavier’s chiseled abs, exposed through the his unbuttoned shirt. “O-oh, so... I’ve been trying to ring the doorbell to Y/N's apartment to give her a fruit basket to wish her a fast recovery, but she’s not answering—” he hastily explained, gesturing toward the basket in his hand. “Can you reach her—?”

Xavier felt like popping a vein at how meddlesome this guy was. Was this guy an idiot? Didn’t he realize by now that he was your next-door boyfriend?

Nevermind. The hard way it is.

“She’s with me.”

“H-huh?”

He shot him a pointed look. “Don't think you’ll have a chance with her, newbie.”

And with that, he shut the door in his face.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

George with shy daughter of 2 years old that loves going to the races but don’t like attention

Raining 🌧

The rain drizzled over the paddock, casting a dull gray over the usual vibrant chaos of an F1 weekend. It wasn’t a torrential downpour, but just enough to dampen spirits and make everything feel a little colder, a little more overwhelming.

George adjusted the hood of his team jacket, glancing down at the small girl in his arms. Yn, his two-year-old daughter, was curled into his chest, her tiny fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt underneath. She loved coming to the track with him, loved watching the cars and spending time in the Mercedes garage. But the attention? That, she wasn’t fond of.

George knew it the moment they stepped out of the hospitality area. The way her body stiffened slightly, how her small hands gripped him just a little tighter. The usual friendliness from the other drivers, the fans calling his name, the cameras flashing—it was all too much for her. She buried her face against his chest, barely peeking out when a familiar voice called to them.

“Yn!” Lando’s bright voice rang out as he jogged over, a grin on his face. He had known her since she was born, had been there at the hospital to visit when she was just a few days old. But even now, she remained hesitant around him.

“Hey, little one,” Lando greeted softly, crouching down to her level. “You’re back at the track, huh?”

Yn didn’t respond, just tightened her hold on George’s shirt and turned her head away.

“She’s a bit shy today,” George explained, rubbing her back gently.

Lando frowned slightly but nodded. “No worries. Maybe later, yeah?”

No answer. Yn simply nestled further into her dad’s embrace.

George sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He wasn’t going to push her. If she wasn’t in the mood for interaction, then that was that. He wasn’t going to make her uncomfortable just because others expected her to be more social.

As they made their way through the paddock, other drivers and staff greeted them, some attempting to talk to Yn, but she remained quiet, her little body curling tighter into George’s arms. By the time they reached the Mercedes garage, he was certain—today wasn’t a day where she wanted to deal with all the attention.

Toto was already standing near the monitors, arms crossed, observing the screens when George approached.

“Morning, boss,” George greeted, adjusting Yn’s position in his arms.

Toto looked up, taking in the sight of the little girl tucked against George’s chest, her eyes barely peeking out. “And good morning to you, Yn,” he said, his voice gentler than usual.

Yn didn’t respond, only shifting slightly.

George sighed. “She’s not feeling the attention today. Normally, she likes being around, but I can tell she’s not comfortable with how many people are trying to talk to her.”

Toto nodded in understanding. He had known Yn since she was a baby, had held her when she was just a few months old. She wasn’t a loud, attention-seeking child. She liked her small circle of people, and outside of that, she was reserved.

“I can watch her during FP1,” Toto offered, his tone casual, but George could see the sincerity in his expression. “She can sit with me. No one will bother her.”

George blinked, then let out a relieved breath. “You’d really do that?”

Toto scoffed. “Of course. She’ll be warm, and she’ll have a better seat than anywhere else in the garage.”

George looked down at his daughter. “What do you think, sweetheart? Want to stay with Uncle Toto for a bit while Daddy works?”

Yn finally lifted her head just enough to look at Toto. There was a long pause, then a tiny nod.

George smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before carefully handing her over. She settled into Toto’s arms without a fuss, and the team principal adjusted his hold with ease.

“She’s got her blanket in her bag,” George said. “And a snack if she wants it.”

Toto nodded. “We’ll be fine. Focus on FP1.”

George gave one last glance to his little girl before heading off to change into his race suit.

Yn sat comfortably on Toto’s lap, her tiny hands gripping the soft fabric of her blanket as she watched the monitors in front of them. The garage was busy, engineers moving about, mechanics preparing the car, but no one dared to disturb Toto, not with the way he sat there, his arm securely around the small child.

When a Mercedes engineer approached to discuss strategy, he barely got a word out before Toto shot him a look. A look that immediately sent the message: Not now.

The engineer swallowed. “Right. We’ll, uh, talk later.”

Yn didn’t seem to notice the exchange, too focused on the screen. She might not have understood all the numbers and strategies, but she recognized her dad’s car, knew how to watch the lap times change.

A few minutes later, someone else approached. It was Mick, holding a cup of coffee, his usual smile in place.

“Hey, boss. Hey, Yn,” Mick greeted.

Toto didn’t respond. He just looked at Mick.

The smile wavered slightly. “Right. You’re busy. Got it.” Mick took a slow step back before walking away.

Yn turned her head slightly, peeking up at Toto.

“You’re safe here, Schatzi,” Toto murmured, brushing a hand over her curls.

Yn blinked up at him before leaning back against his chest. She wasn’t tired, not really, but she felt warm, comfortable. She liked the steady heartbeat against her back, the feeling of security.

FP1 continued, and every time someone so much as thought about coming near, they stopped themselves at the sight of Toto’s unreadable expression.

At one point, Alex peeked into the garage, spotted Yn, and waved.

Yn lifted her tiny hand and waved back.

Alex grinned but didn’t approach, understanding the situation immediately. Instead, he gave Toto a thumbs-up before disappearing again.

By the time the session ended, George was back, still in his race suit, slightly damp from the lingering rain. He immediately made his way over.

“How’s my girl?” he asked, crouching down.

Yn turned her head, blinking sleepily at him. “Warm,” she mumbled.

George chuckled, reaching to take her from Toto. “That’s good. Thank you so much, boss. I really appreciate it.”

Toto simply nodded, watching as Yn settled back against her dad, wrapping her little arms around his neck.

“No need to thank me,” Toto said. “She’s always welcome here.”

George smiled, pressing another kiss to Yn’s forehead. “Still, means a lot.”

Yn yawned, rubbing her eyes. The rain continued to fall outside, but she didn’t mind. As long as she was with her dad, and the few people she trusted, she was happy.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hi loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[yeetmyboi]

My lil brain cell just had a little thought about freshly being Simon’s wife and you get invited to your first outing with the bois and their birds and Simon gets to see a side of you he absolutely loves.

Like maybe it’s a small outing just for everyone to meet and get to know each other. You get nervous about meeting so many people at the same time, let alone some of Simon’s close friends and coworkers.

Perhaps you’re a bit self conscious about being a bigger gal, but it all deflates when you see you’re not the only one. Price’s wife, just as plush, is very welcoming and friendly. She pulls you into a tight hug, ‘welcoming’ you into their little ‘wives’ club and immediately introduces you to Johnny’s and Kyle’s significant others.

After the first hour, you find yourself feeling a bit silly about being so nervous and start loosening up. It all reaches a head when Johnny suggests a cheeky game of softball or kickball. (And of course it’s these trained special forces men vs their cute wives, duhh).

You’ve played sports in the past, finding you had a bit of a competitive streak. So, you’re not surprised that it resurfaces during what should be a relaxed game. Even the other wives get into it, playful trash talk and teasing ensues.

At one point, you hit the ball and manage to steal not just one base but two.

Simon can’t help but grin. He likes seeing the determination on your face. The look that he swears could move mountains.

Absolutely goes feral seeing you dive to avoid Johnny’s attempt to tag you out and touch base. Gray dust and gravel covers your outfit as you pluck yourself back up.

The whole thing turns him on. Seeing his soft bird have a sharp edge to her, a bit of grit to her softness. The duality of it all is enough to give this man something else to distract him for the rest of the get together

Definitely something he’s gonna have to show you the second you two are alone in the parking lot as the others leave.

Just a thought lol 🤭🤭

[pucksandpower]

Bleached

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles’ beard has been looking a bit ginger-ish lately … what better place to talk about it than on a podcast?

Warnings: allusion to 18+ themes

“Okay, I have to ask,” the podcaster leans forward, elbows resting on the small round table between them, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. His voice is friendly, but there’s that unmistakable gleam in his eye that says he’s about to drop something that’ll make the interview go viral. “There’s been some ... speculation. About your, uh, change in appearance recently.”

Charles shifts in his seat, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He’s relaxed, casual in a gray hoodie and jeans, but there’s a slight tension in the way he holds himself, like he’s been waiting for this question to come up. “Speculation? About what?” His tone is playful, teasing almost, though he knows exactly where this is going.

The podcaster chuckles, scratching his beard as he gathers the right words. “Well, I mean … the ginger beard thing. I’ve had a lot of listeners ask about it. A lot of comments, too. They’re all curious. You know, Charles, your beard’s been, uh, dark for as long as we’ve known you, and now …” he gestures towards Charles’ face, where the once dark brown stubble has turned into a mix of auburn and light copper. It’s subtle, but definitely noticeable. “What’s going on there?”

Charles laughs, but there’s a hint of sheepishness in it. He rubs his jaw, as if the act itself will somehow explain the change. “Ah, well,” he begins, and his eyes flicker to the side, as if contemplating whether he should actually say what he’s about to. “It’s kind of funny, actually.”

“Oh, I’m all ears,” the podcaster says, leaning in even more, his grin widening. “I love a good story.”

Charles glances down for a moment, his fingers tracing the outline of the cup of coffee in front of him, before looking back up. “Okay, so … how do I say this?” He pauses, clearly trying to find the right words, and then he laughs again, softer this time, like he’s laughing at himself. “It’s actually because of Y/N.”

The podcaster raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Charles nods, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s … her. I mean, not directly, obviously, but … you know, her ... uh, how do I say this without it sounding ... weird?”

“Hey, man, this is a safe space. You can say whatever you want,” the podcaster says, trying to suppress his amusement. “You’ve got my full attention.”

Charles laughs again, a bit more openly this time. “Okay, well, let’s just say it’s ... the result of certain ... activities between us.” He’s clearly embarrassed but trying to make light of it. “You know, when you, uh, go down on someone, and … yeah.”

The podcaster’s eyes widen in realization, and he bursts out laughing, almost doubling over in his chair. “Wait, wait, wait,” he says between gasps for breath. “You’re telling me … your beard is turning ginger because of … her?”

Charles laughs too, but there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous. But, uh, yeah. Apparently, her ... uh, juices are, um, acidic? And they’ve been ... bleaching my beard a bit.”

The podcaster is in stitches, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh my God, that’s ... I don’t even know what to say. That’s amazing.”

“It’s funny, right?” Charles says, his grin widening as he watches the podcaster struggle to contain his laughter. “I didn’t even notice at first, but then it started getting more obvious, and she was like, ‘Uh, Charles, what’s going on with your beard?’”

The podcaster wipes tears from his eyes, still chuckling. “And what did you say? I mean, how do you even have that conversation?”

Charles shrugs, still smiling. “Well, we just laughed about it. I mean, what else can you do? It’s not like it’s a bad thing. It’s just ... one of those weird, funny things that happens when you’re in a relationship.”

“So, she wasn’t freaked out or anything?”

“No, no, she wasn’t freaked out,” Charles says, shaking his head. “She thought it was hilarious. I mean, we both did. It’s just ... it’s one of those things that makes us, you know, us.”

“Man, that’s ... that’s awesome,” the podcaster says, finally calming down a bit. “You know, I’ve heard of some wild stories on this show, but that ... that’s definitely up there.”

“Yeah, it’s not something you hear about every day,” Charles admits with a laugh.

The podcaster leans in again, his expression still one of amusement but with a hint of curiosity now. “Okay, but seriously ... have you looked into this? Like, the science behind it? I mean, can that really happen?”

Charles nods, his expression turning a bit more serious now. “Yeah, I did actually. It turns out that it’s possible. I mean, the pH of ... you know, down there ... can be slightly acidic, and that can have an effect on hair color, especially if there’s prolonged contact. I’m no scientist, but that’s the gist of it from what I’ve read.”

“Wow,” the podcaster says, clearly impressed. “That’s ... honestly, I didn’t even know that could happen.”

“Yeah, neither did I,” Charles says, grinning. “But here we are.”

The podcaster laughs again, shaking his head in disbelief. “Man, I’ve got to say ... Y/N is one lucky girl. And you ... you must be very enthusiastic about, uh, certain activities.”

Charles laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, I mean, when you’re with someone you care about ... you want to make them happy, right?”

“Of course, of course,” the podcaster says, nodding in agreement. “But still ... that’s some dedication, man.”

“Hey, if it makes her happy, I’m happy,” Charles says with a shrug, but there’s a genuine warmth in his voice that makes it clear he means it.

The podcaster smiles, clearly touched by the sentiment. “That’s sweet, Charles. Really sweet. I think a lot of people are going to appreciate hearing that.”

“Yeah, well, I hope so,” Charles says, his smile softening. “I mean, relationships are about give and take, right? You have to be willing to do things for each other, even if it’s something small. It’s those little things that make it special.”

The podcaster nods, his expression turning a bit more serious now as he listens to Charles. “You’re right about that. It’s the little things that count.”

“Exactly,” Charles agrees. “And, you know, if that means I have to deal with a bit of a color change in my beard, well, that’s a small price to pay.”

“Definitely,” the podcaster says with a smile. “So, what’s next for you guys? Any big plans?”

Charles leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Honestly, we’re just taking things one day at a time. We’re happy, and that’s what matters. We’re both busy with our careers, but we make time for each other, and that’s important. We’re just ... enjoying being together.”

“That’s great to hear,” the podcaster says, nodding approvingly. “It sounds like you’ve got a good thing going.”

“We do,” Charles says with a smile. “She’s amazing, and I’m lucky to have her.”

The podcaster smiles, clearly touched by the sincerity in Charles’ voice. “Well, I wish you both the best. You seem like a great couple.”

“Thank you,” Charles says, his smile widening. “That means a lot.”

The podcaster grins, clearly pleased with how the interview has gone. “And, uh, just to wrap things up ... any advice for other guys out there? You know, in case they start noticing their beards changing color?”

Charles laughs, shaking his head. “I’d say ... just go with it. Embrace it. It’s a sign that you’re doing something right.”

“Great advice,” the podcaster says with a chuckle. “Well, thanks for sharing that with us, Charles. This has definitely been one of the more ... interesting interviews I’ve done.”

“Happy to be of service,” Charles says with a grin. “Thanks for having me.”

The podcaster smiles, clearly satisfied with the conversation. “Anytime, man. Anytime.”

[ktownshizzle]

Honey & Citrus | an myg drabble

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Meet-cute coffee shop!au, to be confirmed if Yoongi is an idol or not

✎ ˎˊ˗  Summary: You haaate your job, but at least there’s this sexy eye-candy at your favorite cafe to distract you from your miserable 9 to forever grind. Your simple, casual nods with him turn into a silent caffeine war when, after his small act of kindness, you buy him his coffee—and he refuses to let the favor go unanswered. Suddenly, you’re locked in a daily battle of who pays first, and just when you think you’ve reached a stalemate, fate (and a very nosy barista) throws in a twist you never saw coming.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: None ✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.6k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: February 13, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Welcome to another unplanned story. Just a little something I whipped up for the boss babes and corporate girlies working in their city's business districts, desperate to find a semblance of happiness in their robotic working days–did I mention this was really self-indulgent? I am not sure if this stays as a one-shot or a series of drabbles? Idk. Anyways, enjoy!~

Series Masterlist | More Yoongi stories this way > Masterlist

There’s a rhythm to your mornings. The kind that makes life feel like a well-oiled machine—predictable, efficient, sharp. That’s what you tell yourself, anyway, as you sidestep a finance bro barking into his phone to push open the door to Honey & Citrus cafe.

Not Coffee Bean. Never Starbucks. Not even Compose—even though Kim Taehyung’s face could certainly make you wanna come (in).

But you don’t need the soulless corporate grind in your caffeine routine when you already live it from 9 to god-knows-when. Honey & Citrus has the good beans, the real baristas who actually know your order and don’t try to be fake-friendly with you, and the quiet that lets you inhale a moment of peace before stepping into the battlefield of bullshit board meetings.

And then there’s him.

“Iced Americano for Yoongi…” 

He’s always there at the same time as you. Every. Single. Day.

A handsome stranger with sharp, feline eyes and an ever-present air of quiet confidence. The very first time you see him, he was wearing a suit. A medium gray set with an interesting burgundy tie. He held a small suitcase, fit for a macbook air, maybe a thin stack of paperwork. Definitely some VC vulture or hedge fund guy, gifted with the face of a luxury brand model.

But then one day he was wearing… a hoodie and black slacks with headphones slung around his neck, the expensive kind audiophiles swear by. 

Hmm. With this look, your previous assumptions did not add up. Now, you couldn’t quite place his profession. 

Since then, it becomes some sort of game you play in your mind. To discover what this dude’s job is.

One day, he holds a notebook filled with messy, poetic scrawls—you catch a glimpse as he flips the pages, and your mind spins wild theories. Another morning, he reads a printout of a Shareholder Meeting report as he awaits his coffee. Then the next day, you spot a vinyl tucked under his arm, and something about that sends your curiosity spiraling further.

Music Executive? Writer? Producer? Who is this mysterious artsy type in a sea of wolves? But maybe is a wolf. Lawyer, City Prosecutor, some Start-Up Founder… who likes to dabble in poetry?

You’re fascinated. Man has aura. And on top of that, he sure looks like he can fuck.

Unlucky for you, your interactions so far are limited to polite nods, the occasional small smile exchanged as you both wait for your respective coffees. Maybe the universe has a sense of humor, slotting you into the same ten-minute window every day with a stranger who intrigues you far more than your own coworkers do. But of course, he is not interested in you.

You wake up with a migraine, and instantly, you know—it’s a morning from hell.

Your alarm didn’t go off. Your inbox is already on fire. Your boss sends a cryptic “let’s talk” email before you’ve even left your apartment, which is never a good sign. You forgot about the afternoon presentation you’re supposed to give, and your deck isn’t even half-finished.

The thought of quitting—of walking into that glass tower and tossing your resignation onto your boss’s desk like a dramatic K-drama lead—has never been more tempting.

This morning has no rhythm. More out of tune than drunk-you in a Coin Karaoke.

By the time you drag yourself into Honey & Citrus, it’s already a god-forsaken Friday. You’re barely holding it together, probably leaving a trail of smoke in your wake. Your hair is frizzy, your face frazzled—it’s just a fucked-up day all around. And it’s barely 8 a.m.

You’re so deep in your own misery that you don’t even clock the fact that your favorite stranger has been looking at you since you walked in.

Not until—

“Fighting~”

You blink.

He’s looking right at you, his dark eyes warm with quiet amusement as he mouths the word again, this time with double closed fists, like a cartoon character summoning energy. And then, just for good measure, he smiles.

A real one.

The disbelief must be all over your face because suddenly, you’re giggling—actually giggling, something you didn’t think you were capable of before noon.

Yoongi—the mysterious, unreadable stranger you’ve been quietly fascinated with for weeks—just gave you the world’s softest pep talk.

And then, as if realizing what he’s done, he quickly looks away, pulling a face mask over his mouth, his pink-tinged cheeks disappearing behind black fabric.

A second later, he’s heading for the door, stepping out into the cold like he didn’t just single-handedly save your morning.

Your eyes follow him until he disappears around the corner, but the warmth he left behind lingers in your chest.

Maybe because you needed to hear it. Maybe because no one’s said it to you in a long time. Maybe because he said it.

You take a deep breath, square your shoulders. And somehow—somehow—you make it through the day.

You survive. Without handing over your resignation letter.

Small wins.

The next Monday, you get to Honey & Citrus first. You don’t even think about it—you just do it. You buy his coffee.

And then you sprint out before he can react, because suddenly, the idea of watching his expression feels too embarrassing to bear. You tell yourself it’s just a small gesture. A thank-you for a kindness he probably doesn’t even think much of.

The next day, though, he beats you to it.

You walk in, and the barista just hands you your usual order with a knowing smile. “It’s covered.”

You blink, turn, and find him already at his usual spot, sipping his drink like he didn’t just declare war.

Because it is so obvious he did this just to one-up you.

You narrow your eyes. He lifts his cup in a silent toast, eyes glinting with something dangerously close to amusement.

And so it begins.

For a week, you play the game.

One morning, you bribe the barista to let you pay first. The next, he somehow convinces them to refuse your card. 

You show up earlier to get ahead, but the next day he shows up even earlier.

Your schedule is screwed. You’re suddenly up way earlier than you like, but you like it.

It’s ridiculous. It’s fun. It’s completely unlike anything else in your day.

Until, finally, one morning, you both arrive at the exact same time.

You grab the door handle—he does, too. His palm brushes against your knuckles. Both of you freeze, eyes locking, realizing at the same time:

Shit. No winner today.

You swear you see his lips twitch, like he’s holding back a real smile. And then—before you can overthink it—you finally, actually, talk to him.

“You know,” you say, tilting your head, “we could just both buy our own coffee like normal people.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” His voice is deep, lazy, laced with amusement.

“Are you always this competitive?”

“Are you?”

You huff, trying to suppress the warmth creeping up your neck. He leans in slightly, and it’s the first time you’ve really, truly studied him up close—the sharp cut of his jaw, the quiet intensity behind his eyes, the scent of something subtly musky clinging to his coat.

“Since we’re doing introductions before the next round,” he says, “I’m Yoongi.”

Of course, you already know it. You give yours in return, and he nods like it makes sense. Like he already knew it as well. Which makes sense.

As you walk in, the barista snickers, clearly entertained by whatever weird silent war you and Yoongi have been waging for the past week. You’re about to step back, let him go first when the barista clears her throat.

“Actually,” she says, way too pleased with herself. “It’s on the house today.”

Both you and Yoongi blink in unison.

“What?” you ask.

“Why?” Yoongi adds, looking just as skeptical.

The barista leans on the counter, grinning like she’s been waiting for this exact moment. “Valentine’s Day promo.”

Your stomach drops. Your brain stalls. You look around and Honey & Citrus has little cherubs hanging from the ceiling.

“First couple to walk in together gets free drinks,” she further explains.

You feel the heat crawl up your neck, your face burning so hot it could brew the damn espresso yourself. Beside you, Yoongi makes a tiny sound—like an exhale caught in his throat—and when you turn your head ever so slightly, you see it.

His ears are bright red.

The barista just smirks. You are going to die here.

You should correct her, actually. You should explain. But words? Language? Coherent thought? We don’t know her.

But that’s when Yoongi does something absolutely insane.

He clears his throat, thanks the barista, and then—looking at one of the booths of the cafe, still not looking at you—he says, casually, like this isn’t the most absurd moment of your life,

“How about we have that first date right now?”

Your head snaps toward him, and he finally meets your gaze, and oh, he’s serious. 

Your heart stumbles over itself, but you manage a tiny, shy smile, and a quip, “…you mean this coffee? Here?” Because that’s all your pea brain can compute.

His lips twitch. “Mm. Unless you wanna go somewhere else?”

Huh.

You hate that he’s smooth about this. You hate that you kind of really, really like it. 

You swallow hard, shifting on your feet. “This place is fine.”

His smile curves, small but victorious. “Good.”

The barista practically vibrates behind the counter as she hands over your drinks, joyful even though two drinks are getting docked from her pay that week. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

With Yoongi, it feels like it's definitely going to be...

:)

A/N: To you, my dearest reader. I hope your heart is filled with joy today and forever. You deserve it!

Want more for our coffee shop couple? Let me know if you’re interested in me turning this into series of drabbles?? Look at me adding more stuff into my WIP list.  Caved! Here's the H&C masterlist

Thank you for reading this you lovely, beautiful human! xo

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Divider by: @cafekitsune (thank you!)

[pedantic-poison]

Delicious | LN4

pairing: fem sainz!reader x lando norris

genre: SMUTTTTT, 18+ MINORS DNI, p in v, fingering, light choking, use of pet names (darling, baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), cream pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!!!!), language, hold the moan vibes, dirty talk, Lando being a hoe

requested: yes!

word count: 3.9k

author's note: i LOVE me some brother's best friend trope

When your older brother first joined McLaren, you were unbelievably proud of him, so, naturally, you moved heaven and earth to make it to his first race with the team. Meeting Lando, you finally understood why all of Carlos' stories from before the season started were about his new teammate, and how much he made him laugh. He was friendly to you, and kind, and had a knack for making sure you never felt out of place. He also made your chest go a little tight, but you chose to ignore that feeling. Best not to complicate things for your brother.

It's been years since you first met Lando, and you can't quite use that excuse to convince yourself you need to avoid Lando. You still try, certainly, but it doesn't really carry the weight it used to, not with Carlos at Ferrari now. Would it still be messy? Maybe. Would it be a complete shit show? ...Probably not, right?

That little tendril of doubt created just enough space for that weird feeling Lando elicited to bloom. And now, with the Summer break giving Carlos time off, he's invited Lando to your family's home, for an entire week.

"Morning," the sound of Lando's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. As if it wasn't already bad enough that he was staying in your house, now Lando had the audacity to show up in the kitchen, voice gravely from sleep, with a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low enough on his hips to show the V-line of his muscles there. Your eyes trailed up his torso, allowing yourself to indulge in his tan skin and taut muscles for just a moment, before your gaze met his. A knowing look danced across his face, eyes glinting with mischief, as he smirked at you over his mug of coffee.

"Oh, um, good morning," you coughed out, embarrassed at having been caught. "How'd you sleep?" you managed to force out.

Lando took his time, finishing his sip of coffee before answering, "Slept alright. Couldn't fall asleep for a while, for some reason, though." You couldn't quite decipher the look on his face while he said it, but he didn't give you enough time to overthink it. "You?"

Your face heated immediately at the reminder of what exactly you'd been doing last night, instead of sleeping. "F-fine, thanks." It had been four long days where Lando had made himself seemingly unavoidable. Even at night, when you could close your door to the rest of the house, and lock yourself away, your thoughts strayed back to Lando no matter what you did. Last night, the ache in your core had gotten so unbearable that you'd touched yourself to the thought of him. It seemed that even the walls of your room couldn't quite keep Lando out.

"What's got you thinking so hard over there, Sainz?"

You schooled your expression, refusing to let him throw you off balance again. "Wouldn't you like to know, Norris." The coffee mug in your hands hid your face rather well as you lifted it to take a sip, leveling him with a look that you hoped seemed like a challenge.

Pushing off the counter he'd been leaning against, Lando took a step closer to you. "I really, really would, actually."

You allowed yourself to lean in for just a moment, inhaling the smell of him, before pulling back. "Too bad." Chair legs scraping against the floor as you pushed away from the table, standing and taking your mug and book with you.

"Oh, come on! You're really gonna tease me like that?" he whined, shouting at your back as you headed up the stairs.

"Gotta make you work for it, Norris!" you called back, retreating into your room once again, giddier than you'd care to admit, and telling yourself that you'd only left because you had work to do. Certainly not because you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to hold on with Lando under the same roof.

Just three more days.

The loud splashes and laughter from outside drew your attention away from your book, for what felt like the hundredth time in two minutes. Sighing exasperatedly, you rolled over on your bed, craning your neck up to look out of your window.

Carlos and Lando were in the pool in the backyard below you, squealing like little kids as they hit each other with water balloons. You rolled your eyes at the childish behavior, even as you fought (and failed) to keep a smile off of your lips. You heard your father's voice ring throughout the house, and Carlos and Lando must've heard it too, because they quickly dropped their makeshift weapons at the call that they needed to get cleaned up for dinner. Your parents weren't terribly strict, but even they preferred for everyone at their dinner table to be fully clothed and not dripping everywhere.

Just as you'd made your way out of your room to head downstairs, you froze, finding a sopping wet Lando Norris in the hallway. Even after you (accidentally) ogled him this morning, you couldn't manage to keep your eyes on his as you watched the way the droplets of water fell off the ridges of his chiseled chest and torso. You hadn't quite noticed how close you'd come to running into each other, barely a foot of space between you, that seemed to shrink more and more the longer you stared. And you weren't the only one. The sundress you wore hung off your body in a way that made Lando want to memorize every line and curve of it himself. Looking wasn't enough - he'd always been more of a hands-on learner, anyways. And the way the gentle breeze swirled the skirt of it around your hips and legs made him want to find out if you were wearing anything underneath it. Made him want to rip anything he found there off with his teeth.

"Hermanita! Lando! Dinner in twenty minutes!" Carlos shouted up, from the sound of it in the kitchen, most likely helping your parents like the doting son he was. Helping, unlike you. Standing in the hallway, now only inches from Lando, chest rising and falling erratically as you tried to convince yourself that you should not fuck your brother's friend and former teammate in your parents' house with your entire family downstairs.

"Twenty minutes," Lando breathed, barely above a whisper. He took a final step forward, mouth painfully close to touching yours as his spread into a mischievous grin. "I can work with that."

His lips crashed into yours, hands gripping your face delicately as he did so, moving only after yours landed in his hair. Lando finally, finally, got his hands on those hips that had been torturing him, tempting him, for years, squeezing as he pulled you into him. Your fingers raked through his curls, tugging gently as you pushed him backwards into your room. He went willingly, grinning into the kiss at your enthusiasm as you kicked the door shut behind you, letting you take charge for the time being and falling to the bed when the backs of his knees hit it, hands dragging down your thighs as he went. For a moment, you paused, taking in the way Lando was looking up at you. Adoring. Reverent. Hungry.

His hands on your thighs urged you forward to straddle him, sliding his grip up your back to pull your torso flush with his. "God, these fucking tits," he groaned, squeezing you harder into his chest before sliding his hands around to your front, cupping them harshly. Through lidded eyes, you watched his hands, large, nimble, and veiny, knead your breasts while he hummed appreciatively, unable to look away from your chest for even a moment. "Been waiting to get my hands on you for so long, sweetheart," he heaved, speaking into your skin as his lips trailed over your exposed chest, just under your collarbone, punctuating the statement with a final, firm squeeze of your tits.

Before you could finish the whine building in you at the loss of his hands, Lando had yanked down the flimsy straps of your sundress, allowing your tits to spill out over the neckline. Lando swears he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes, "so fucking gorgeous." His lips found yours again, stealing your breath as one hand reached up to ghost over your nipple, already sensitive and hardening from the cool air in your room, while the other lowered to rest on your waist, gently urging you to rock your hips against him at your own pace. "So," his kisses now landed on your jaw, "so," your neck, "beautiful. I think it might actually kill me," gently nipping at your pulse point before soothing the tender skin with his tongue.

Your breath had grown shallow from the attention he paid to your neck and chest, hitching as he tweaked your nipple just right, almost harsh enough to be painful but light enough to make you crave more. But what caused your breath to quicken was the feeling of Lando under you. Those strong, muscled thighs, bracketed by your own, felt so firm you couldn't stop your mind from wondering how they would feel if you ground yourself against them. The way they tensed as he moved, or restrained himself from moving as he tried to let you set the pace, felt so delicious against your thighs and through layers of fabric, you can't imagine how they would feel flexing against your core. Delicious as those thoughts were, they would have to wait for another time, because nothing was more tempting than the press of his hard cock against you, straining at the material of his swim trunks, the remaining water of the pool dampening your already wet panties.

"Shh, sweetheart, we've got to be careful," Lando startles you, the hand that had been on your tits gently closing over your mouth, and only then did you realize just how much noise you'd been making. Your cheeks heated at the realization, feeling your breath catching in your throat, rapid and uneven, whimpers and whines and a whole host of other, embarrassing sounds trapped beneath the firm press of Lando's large hand. You were so worked up that even that thought, the sheer size of his palm against you, how those thick, nimble fingers would feel between your thighs, made you whine louder, hips speeding up as you sought some kind of friction. Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself onto him, harder, faster, hand tightening around your waist and thighs flexing underneath you. He was holding back, you could tell, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to fray that thread to its breaking point.

You wanted to make him snap.

There would be another time to savor this, to take your time, to memorize every inch of him, later.

You raised one of your hands from his broad shoulders, gripping the hand that covered your mouth and tapping twice. Immediately, Lando removed his hand, eyes filling with concern that he'd done something wrong, but before he could ask you were already whining again.

"Please, Lan," you begged, hips pressing down as harshly as you could manage. "Need you so bad, please, please," your voice was thin and breathy, and if you weren't nearly delirious from finally having this, having him, within your grasp, you might've been embarrassed by it. "Don't tease me, I c - can't take it."

Lando's head fell back with a groan, making no effort to silence himself as he did with you. "Fuck, darling, you want me that much, huh?" You nodded eagerly, hips continuing their grind as you felt Lando's cock twitch beneath you. "Such a desperate little thing, aren't you?" he asked, latching his mouth on the flesh of your breast, sucking a harsh mark into the delicate skin. Low enough that your family wouldn't be able to see, you realized, but dark enough that you'd have a reminder of him on your skin for the next few days. The thought made you flush with heat. The sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your tit shocked you out of your haze. "I asked you a question, sweetheart."

You blinked down at him, bleary eyed, "W-what?"

His grin was wicked as he looked up at you, "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated, and he didn't give you the time to gather yourself enough to formulate a comeback. "I asked if you were a desperate little thing for me? You desperate for me to fuck you stupid, darling?"

A whine escaped your lips, unbidden, at his words, and the look in his eyes told you he wouldn't let you deny its cause. "God, yes, Lan, yes I'm so desperate for you, want you to fuck me so bad, I - fuck -"

The sensation of his fingers sliding your thong to the side scrambled your brains again, scattering any thoughts you'd managed to gather. The rough, calloused pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, and your body rocked violently into his hold, chasing the pleasure. "Keep talking to me, sweetheart, tell me what you want. Tell me all the filthy things my pretty little girl wants me to do to her," he whispered into your ear, lips going back to attacking your neck.

"W-want - want you to - ah- fuck me with your fingers, think about those p-perfect hands all the - fuck - t-time, want your thick fingers in me before you fuck me, Lando," you moaned out, pushing through even though your whines threatened to interrupt you.

"Good girl," he purred, sliding his middle finger through your folds, moaning into your neck at the feel of you. "So fucking wet f'me, darling, fuck," his left hand tweaked your nipple, as his right slowly sank a finger into you. The sound he let out was almost animalistic as he felt you clenching around him, reacting to the stretch that even one of his fingers made you feel. "Holy shit, you're so tight, baby," he lifted his head to be level with yours, wanting to watch your face as he touched you. "How am I gonna fit my cock into this tight little pussy of yours if you can barely take one of my fingers?"

The only answer you could give him was a needy moan, one that had his left hand going back up, not to cover your mouth, but to rest on your throat. "Shh, remember, sweetheart, you don't want your parents to hear us, do you?"

You shook your head fiercely, but immediately lost your train of thought again as Lando began to pump his finger in and out of you, slowly to let you adjust. His thumb landed firmly back on your clit, and the way he curled his long, thick fingers had him reaching a spot inside of you you'd never managed to reach before.

"What else do you want me to do, darling? Don't tell me you've already gone brainless? I've barely gotten started with you."

"Want more, Lan, want you to stretch me with your fingers so you can fuck me, want to feel you - oh, god," you barely managed to catch yourself before you screamed at the feeling of Lando pushing another finger into you. Even though he was aided by your wetness, Lando slowed his pace as he let you adjust again, easing into you as gently as possible as he maintained his circles on your clit.

"Want to feel me what, sweetheart?" he encouraged, curling his fingers to that same spot, this time hitting it hit his index and middle fingers and making your brain short circuit.

"Want to - Lan - w-want, I, fuck," you babbled, head falling to the crook of Lando's shoulder as you struggled for words.

"Come on, now, darling, be a good girl and tell me what you want. You do want to be a good girl f'me, don't you?" He chuckled lightly at how quickly you nodded, head staying buried in his neck.

"I- I want t-to feel you in me, feel your cock in me, feel you stretch me out with it, f-feel you fill me up - stuff me full with you, with your cum, leave me dripping with it."

The hand on your throat tightened harshly, briefly, before both of Lando's hands were off you and working on his swim trunks. "Jesus christ, baby, you've got a dirty little mouth on you. Such a perfect fucking girl for me, darling, such a dirty little thing, god you're perfect," he mumbled the praises into your mouth, stopping every so often to kiss you tenderly, hungrily, as his hands made quick work of the tie on his swim trunks, pulling them down enough to let his cock spring free. Your eyes widened involuntarily at the sight of it slapping against his stomach, the hard muscles of his abs and the red, leaking tip of his cock mesmerizing you.

You lifted your hips, allowing Lando to yank you closer to him until you hovered just over his cock, both of your hands bracing against his shoulders as one of his went under your dress to guide his cock through your folds.

"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?"

"Yes, please Lan, please, ple-"

You had to cover your mouth with your own hand this time, the stretch of his cock making your eyes water, tears springing from them. Lando stared straight into your eyes as he sank you down onto his cock, bottom lip trapped between his teeth in a feeble attempt to silence himself. Both of his hands landed on your hips, gripping harshly as he held himself back from fucking up into you right away.

"God, baby you're so tight, you have such a perfect little cunt," he panted, eyes fixed on yours, not wanting to miss a single expression on your face. Finally, he bottomed out, the slow glide of his cock in you heavenly, fingers flexing against you as he forced himself to be patient.

A weak whimper left you despite the hand over your mouth as you slowly rose up, dropping harshly back onto Lando's cock and digging in your fingers at the sensation.

"Fuuuuuuuck," Lando ground out, hips bucking slightly up into you as you sank back down on him again.

It didn't take long for your legs to begin to shake, pace faltering as you grew tired. "Lando," you breathed out, head nestled in the crook of his neck again.

"Yes, darling?" His voice was thin, reedy, telling you he was just as affected as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

"Can't - can't," your own gasp interrupted you as the head of Lando's cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. "Too tired, need you to - god."

Lando chuckled, chest rumbling underneath your forehead, "You need me to do it for you, baby? You already too fucked out to move?"

"Please," you whined, unable to muster any embarrassment at the desperation in your voice. He knew he did this to you. Why bother trying to hide it?

Something in your neediness got to him, hands sliding up to your waist and squeezing as he gave himself a better hold on you. "That's a good girl. Don't worry, sweetheart, I've got you."

He lifted you off his cock, before slamming you back down onto him, hips fucking up into you harshly. The feeling of him manhandling you with ease was nearly enough to make you come on its own, but that combined with the way he kept hitting that spot inside of you, over, and over, and over again? You were so close you felt like you were going to explode.

And Lando knew it, too. Could tell from the way your hands scrabbled for purchase on his muscular shoulders, the way your head went limp on his shoulder as you gave him complete control over your body, from the way you clenched around him, and when he dropped one of his hands to graze a thumb over your clit as he fucked up into you, you were helpless to do anything but collapse into his embrace as you rode out your high.

Lando continued to hold you up by your waist, limbs sluggish and heavy, as he chased his own high, spurred on by your whimpers of overstimulation. But what finally pushed him over the edge was the sound of your voice, wrecked and fucked out, whispering weakly in his ear, "Please, Lando, please fill me up."

He came with a groan that he tried to bury in your neck, nipping lightly at the skin as he came down, chest heaving and moving you with it since you still hadn't managed to regain control of your own body just yet. The feeling of him painting your walls made you whimper, unintentionally clenching around him again, which elicited a deep groan from him.

"You keep squeezing me like that, darling, and you're gonna get me hard again."

You giggled, which earned you a playful swat on the ass from Lando, chuckling along with you as he stroked your cheek tenderly, admiring you in your post-orgasm haze.

"Lan-"

"Dinner is ready! Hurry up and get down here, we're starving!" The sound of your brother's voice jolted both of you out of your stupor, matching looks of panic on your faces.

Before you could say anything else, Lando whispers, "We're talking about this later tonight, sweetheart." Placing a kiss on your cheek, Lando lifts you off of him, hissing at the feeling, and setting you on your bed next to him before getting up and running across the hall to his room.

After you managed to muster the strength to move, you quickly fixed your dress, trying to make sure that your face and hair weren't dead giveaways for just having had the best sex of your life. You rushed downstairs, blaming your breathlessness on having run to dispel your mother's concern, and sat down quickly, trying to avoid any questions about what had taken you so long.

A few seconds later, Lando joined you, sitting across from you, eyes burning into you in a way that made you shift in your seat. That turned out to be a huge mistake, because just as your brother passed you the salad, Lando's cum leaked out of you as you realized belatedly that not only had you not cleaned up, but you hadn't even put your panties back on. You froze, quickly shifting back and squeezing your thighs together in an effort to stop him from seeping out of you, and miraculously, none of your family seemed to notice.

But the way your eyes widened told Lando exactly what had happened.

When your parents asked how the dinner was, you stammered out some poor excuse of a response, not really knowing how to speak to your family with Lando's cum dripping out of you.

Lando shot you a wicked grin, winking quickly enough that no one else saw it, and stared right into your eyes as he answered.

"Delicious."

[impish-baby]

More dad survivor x zombie reader + an old friend :) (tw: dead animal, guns, emetophobia, threats of harm)

"Aw, sugar.." The dead bird is the farthest thing from appetizing but you look so darn happy offering it to him, how's he supposed to say no?

"You're the sweetest, daddy will eat it later, ok?" That at least seems to be satisfactory enough for now, as you drop the poor thing down onto the park table.

The playground has long been abandoned, left in disarray since the apocalypse hit, that doesnt stop Hank from finding it absolutely adorable when you try to climb up a slide. Nearly gives him a heart attack though.

"Baby, come on, you're gonna hurt yourself." He wonders if you remember being little and playing here, your memory isn't the best when it comes to some things but you sure seem to recall what it takes to give him gray hairs. "I know you think it's fun, but your old man really couldn't handle it if you got scratched up while you're messing around."

You get hurt so easily now a days, he's basically toddler proofed the house all over again and yet you still find a way to bang yourself up when he's not around, that's why he's taken to tying you up when he can't keep an eye on you.

When you do finally decide to slide back down, Hank immediately sweeps you up into his arms with a soft chuckle. "Alright, alright, I think you've had enough outside time for today, we should be headin' home."

It would've been a good day, a great one even, if he didn't catch the glittering of a silver barrel from the corner of his eye.

"Shit-" Hank has never been more greatful that he was holding you, because you lunge automatically for the stranger and likewise closer to the gun. "No, sweetheart, shhh..shh..calm down.." God, he'd love it if you listened, it's hard to pull out his own pistol while trying to wrangle you into staying put.

Other survivors aren't very common in town, most people left after the first few months.

"You gonna let that thing go so I can shoot it?" He recognizes that voice, and it makes Hank's heart sink into a pit in his stomach. "I ain't.. Hank?" A familiar face is rare, a friendly familiar face is nearly unheard of.

"Don't shoot, don't shoot, just step back for a minute, alright?" When Hank glances over, he wasn't expecting Bo to be emptying his stomach onto the cement.

"I- Fuck-" The man retches again, dryheaving. "You.. God, the kid.." An honorary uncle, Bo knew you since the day you where born, he didn't see the day that was meant to be your last.

"I know," You stopped struggling once you heard his voice, eyes wide as you simply whine to be let down. "You're gonna have to wait, be patient, hun." That never was your strong suit. "The grown ups need to talk."

"Hank.. man, you gotta let them go.." There's tears in Bo's eyes as he takes a cautious step forward. "They're dead. There aren't any ifs or buts, that's a corpse. You can't-"

"That is my child," He's been a sinner for a long time, if it comes down to it, shooting his brother will be one of his worst. "My baby, what kind of father am I to hurt them?"

"A merciful one!" There are days you wake up confused and scared, you cry for hours or at least your body tries to. "They aren't a person anymore, Hank, they aren't themselves. You're fucking lucky they haven't bitten you yet!"

"I'd welcome it if they did." He's thought about it, that first night when you went cold in his arms and many more after that. "You pull that trigger and that's it, a life without my kid isn't worth living."

"Dammit," Hank almost collapses in relief as the gun is holstered, putting his away as well. "You're still an idiot, huh? Figures.."

Bo approaches slowly, never taking his eyes off your still form. All you do is smile and try to reach out for a hug, but he cringes away with a look of disgust.

Hank's heart breaks as you tuck your teary face against his neck. He doesn't know how to explain in a way you'd still understand, all he can is press a kiss to your forehead and shush your sniffles.

[honeyedmiller]

Pretty Little Thing | Joel Miller

joel miller x oc!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

synopsis: it’s summertime and you’re working at a retro diner on the outskirts of austin. you’ve seen many faces and heard many voices all in a passing blur; ones you’ve never really payed any mind to—until one handsome southern gentleman in particular catches your special attention, and he’s got a voice you’d recognize anywhere—one that’s gotten you off more times than you’d like to admit.

warnings: original female character, no outbreak (game) joel, joel has a hidden identity in this for a bit, joel is taller than reader, joel can pull reader’s hair, reader is mentioned to blush once, joel indulges in virtual sex work, joel has no kids in this, flirting, talks of masturbation, smut (protected sex, blowjob, consensual choking, spitting, hair pulling, many ass slaps, edging, squirting, name calling, ass play), no use of y/n.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: this is entirely self indulgent. sorry for the small writing hiatus, life has been insanely busy. thanks for being patient with me as i ease back into writing fanfic.

-

It was like clockwork. 

Every day was the same. 

The same regulars, the same orders being put in, the same rushes. 

The lunch rush usually died down around two, which gave you time to prepare for the dinner rush before five. 

It was funny, really. You never thought that such a tiny diner off of Interstate 35, tucked in a corner on the outskirts of Austin, would have such an attraction as it does. 

Maybe it was the house favorite flapjacks you guys sold. Maybe it was the friendly hospitality you and your favorite coworker, Betty, gave to new and familiar faces. Hell, maybe it was the half-decent coffee and the low prices for everything that kept everyone coming in and coming back. 

Either way, it was all the same every single day. 

Until today. 

Usually, there’d be no more than three stragglers from lunch, and no one would come in until around five. 

The little bell above the door chimed as someone walked in, and Betty tapped you on the shoulder with a pleading look in her eyes. 

You averted your gaze from the sugar pourers you were refilling, giving her a small smile. 

“Honey, I’m sorry, I was about to take my break. Can you take that table for me? I need a cig after this morning’s rush.” Her blonde-gray hair was in disarray and her voice was scratchy and desperate. 

“No problem. Enjoy your break.” 

“Bless you, sweetheart.” 

You brush off the straggling sugar crystals that stuck to your hands on your black apron, pulling out your pad of paper and pen before approaching the man that sat with his back facing you. 

You muster up the best smile you can before stopping at the booth, ready to jot down his order. 

“Hello sir, how are you doin’ today?” You ask, and he looks up from the menu with a grin. 

The first thing you notice is his eyes. They’re a warm and inviting shade of hazel; a mixture of a beautiful green that reflects off of his tan skin and an amber as smooth as whiskey. 

Then you notice his lips. Pink and plush. Kissable. 

And then there’s the smile hidden behind the lips. Bright, pearly whites that take your breath away and make your heart palpitate, because god, why is he so handsome? 

It’s like he won the genetic lottery or something.

The mustache above his lips and the scruff on his jawline matches his dark hair with a few silver strands peeking through; the only identifier of his prospective age. 

His lips pull up into a smirk as he watches you shamelessly checking him out. Truthfully, you want him to watch you watching him. 

He clears his throat and your eyes snap back up to his. You tilt your head to the side and study him for a moment further before he finally speaks. 

“I’ll take a black coffee n’ the number three please. Eggs over easy.” 

You write down his order and your brows furrow as he speaks. Something about his voice sounds so… familiar. 

“Midday breakfast?” You tease, and he offers you a shrug and a grin. “It’ll be right out, sir.” You gingerly take the menu from him and walk back behind the counter. 

His voice keeps ringing through your head as you ring in his order on the POS system. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but his voice was attractive nonetheless — deep and gruff, yet sweet and polite. 

Where the hell have you heard that voice before? 

And then it hits you. 

Fuck. 

Oh, fuck. 

That man’s voice has brought you more orgasms than you can possibly even count. 

In a desperate need to get yourself off one night, you explored your options until you came across a faceless account. It was his broad body and thick, muscular arms that caught your attention. And — yeah, okay, maybe his deliciously girthy cock, too. 

The final nail in the coffin was that thick, syrupy Southern drawl that reeled you in and immersed you in a world full of pleasure. 

His voice and groans alone have made you come harder than any man you’ve ever been with. 

Your throat goes dry as you look back at him, tucked into the booth he chose to sit at, looking at his phone. 

You mindlessly pour his coffee and bring it out to his table, legs seemingly floating in his direction.

You set the coffee cup down on his table. His large hand grabs the cup, making it look nearly miniature. 

Your mind was fuzzy and your core suddenly had an aching throb as you thought of his hands exploring your body; what they’d feel like all over you and — god, get a fucking grip. 

“Was there anythin’ else I can get for you?” You ask as nonchalant as you can muster up. 

“Nope, that’ll do it darlin’. Thank you.” The crinkles beside his eyes deepen in the slightest as he tosses a polite smile your way. 

“Food should be out in a couple of minutes.” You rap your knuckles on the table once before turning around to finish topping off the sugar pourers. 

The chef chimed the bell indicating the handsome man’s food was done. You wipe your hands on your apron once more before sucking in a breath. 

You decided to shoot your shot and call him out by his screen name. You were confident it was him. 

You saw no wedding band on his finger, either, so what the hell, right? Worst that could happen is he rejects your advances. 

You grab his plate from the kitchen window and head toward his table. Your palms start to sweat and you’re nervous as hell, because fuck, a face like that is hard to forget. 

You set the plate down in front of him and he softly thanks you. You hesitate for a second before tucking a stray hair that had fallen out of your braid behind your ear, shooting a wink his way. 

“Anytime, Mr. Ryder. Let me know if you need anythin’ else.” 

He pauses before looking up at you again, eyebrows furrowing. 

“How do you—?” He starts, clearing his throat as his eyes travel down your figure. 

“I’m a fan of your work.” You shrug, passing it off like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

“I see,” He looks back at the now empty diner, gaze shifting back to you. “Wanna sit for a minute and chat?” His voice holds sincerity and — god, let it be — desire. 

You nod and hold a finger up to him. “Just a sec.” 

You walk back to the counter, catching Betty at a perfect time. She grins at you as she re-ties her apron around her waist. 

You jerk your head back to Ryder. “The guy over there wants to chat for a few. Mind if I take a break?” 

“Go ‘head baby. Not like we got a ton ‘a people to serve.” She laughs, and you shoot her a smile. 

“Thanks, Betty.” 

You untie your apron from your waist and walk back over to his booth. He gestures for you to slide into the side opposite of him, and you clumsily settle into the worn leather bench. 

He chews on a piece of bacon before his gaze roams your face, seemingly studying you before he swallows. 

“So, what’s the first video you watched?” He asks, and you feel your face burn with a blush. You thought he’d be more subtle, but it’s better to lay the cards on the table you suppose. 

“Truthfully, I’ve scrolled all the way to the bottom of your page and have probably watched every single one.” You shrug at your confession, and that pulls a smirk out of him. 

“What about your favorite?” His tone is almost challenging, but truthfully, he’s intrigued. Never did he think anyone could recognize him by just his voice. 

Joel was careful not to show his face on camera. He wanted to keep himself a mystery—the gruff, sexy voice of a suave cowboy and his perfect body that he shared with the world—a secret. 

“It’s probably gonna have to be the one where you’re pretty much just talkin’ the viewer through it and, fuck, this is kinda embarrassing but we’re already here,” You huff, and Joel shakes his head and urges you to continue. “When I watch that video, I’ve kinda timed it to make myself come the same time you do.” 

“Not embarrassin’, sugar. That’s the sexiest thing a woman has ever confessed to me.” 

“Yeah, well, when you got a voice like yours and a dry spell like mine, it’s the perfect mix for a most blissful—” Joel’s hearty laugh cut you off, and you couldn’t help but admire him from across the table. 

He was so fucking handsome and you genuinely couldn’t believe you were seeing the man who’s made you come more times than you can count without even fucking touching you, in person. 

“Can I see your notepad and pen real quick, baby?” He asks, gesturing down to your lap. You shuffle the items out of your apron pocket before sliding them across the table, and at the click of the pen, he starts to write something down. 

You lick your lips and cross your arms over your torso, lolling your head to the side. He clicks the pen once more before sliding it back over to you with the notepad. 

You look down at what he’s written, to see his fake name, phone number and an address. 

“Whenever you get off, gimme a call n’ come over if you’d like. No pressure though, sugar.” 

Holy fuck. 

No way in hell you’re passing up this opportunity, so you shoot a smirk his way and tuck the paper into your apron pocket. 

Play. It. Cool. 

“I get off in about,” You look down at your watch, twisting your lips to the side. “An hour.” 

You try to keep your voice steady, but your heart is thumping in your chest and your desperate, aching cunt. 

“Sounds good,” He raps his knuckles on the wooden table before grinning at you, nudging your foot in the slightest before he finishes off his breakfast for lunch. “Just the check, sugar. Then I’ll get out of your hair.” 

“I’d rather you pull it than get out of it.” You grin wickedly at the astonished man in front of you, sliding out of the booth. 

You walk away to the counter before he can retort and ring the check up for his meal, but before you can bring it back to him, he slaps two twenties on the counter before you. 

His thick fingers find their way to your wrist and give it a squeeze as he leans down to you and whispers his next words. 

“Hope I can satisfy you in more ways than one, baby. See ya in an hour,” He straightens back up before looking down at the twin Jacksons staring back at the both of you, “Keep the change.” 

He walks out without another word, without looking back, and it leaves you nearly winded. 

“What was that all about?” Betty asks, sidling up beside you as she gently nudges your ribs.

“Looks like I got a hot date.” You half joke. 

“If I was thirty years younger I woulda been all over that too, baby,” A hearty laugh escapes her and she shoots a wink your way. “Have fun tonight.” 

-

The hour goes by surprisingly fast and you find yourself almost scurrying to your car after you clock out. You toss your apron into the passenger seat of your car and immediately roll down the windows. 

The AC decided to give out on you about a week ago, and of course it was during a time where it was hotter than the devil’s fucking asshole outside. 

You groan as you close your eyes, the heat already making you miserable. At least the diner had a good central air system. 

You peel your eyes open to fish the paper out of your apron pocket with Ryder’s number and address on it, dialing the numbers scrawled across in blue ink. 

After the second ring, his rich voice picked up on the other end of the line. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Ryder. ‘M off work now if you still want me to head to your place.” 

“Hey sugar. Head on over. There’s a spot in the driveway for ya.” 

“See you soon.” 

Nerves coursed through your veins as the line went dead. You type in his address into your phone, and to your surprise, he only lived fifteen minutes away. 

You threw your car in drive and you were off, the hot air whipping through the cab of your car. 

It was truly unlike you to do something so bold like this. 

You never went to strangers houses, always ignored when you got hit on at the diner, rejected offers from several men for what would probably be a night full of mediocre sex—and yet, there was something about this man that you couldn’t shake off. 

Even with just video evidence of this man’s gruff voice, veiny cock and skillful hands, you could just tell he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. 

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to a quiet neighborhood. His house was on the right hand side, and you pulled up into the driveway next to his black truck. 

You took a deep breath before looking at yourself in the mirror of your sun visor before touching up with some lip gloss. You spray your perfume on your pulse points before deciding to stop stalling and finally get out of your car before psyching yourself out. 

Your beat up work shoes scuff the concrete path leading up to Ryder’s door, and you swallow thickly before you knock. 

Thirty seconds later, a now shirtless Southern gentleman answers the door, hazel eyes catching yours as you stare up at him in awe. 

“Well fuck me.” You mutter under your breath as you study his handsome face and his thick, toned torso. 

“Tha’s the plan, sugar.” His deep voice shoots straight down to your core, nearly making you audibly moan. 

He steps aside to let you into his house, which is surprisingly warm and inviting. It’s cozy with its worn-in furnishings and family photos on the walls. It smells like him too; something earthy and musky and delicious. 

He guides you into the living room with his hand on your lower back, touch sending a chill down your spine. 

“Make yourself cozy, darlin’. Would y’like anythin’ to drink?” 

“Whiskey, neat please. If you have it.” You respond, and he softly smiles at you before nodding and retreating into the kitchen. You can’t help but watch him walk away with the muscles clearly rippling in his back as he walks, all the way down to the back dimples he has. 

There’s no fucking way this man is real. 

You sigh and settle onto the couch, folding your hands into your lap after setting your purse and keys on the coffee table in front of you. 

It’s only a couple of minutes before Ryder reappears before you, handing you a glass of amber liquid. You thank him and sip on it graciously, the smooth taste gliding down your throat and going straight to your already throbbing core. 

He sits next to you and slings his arm over the back of the couch, allowing himself to get comfortable as if this occurrence is the most natural thing in the world. 

Fuck, maybe it might be for him. You wouldn’t really be surprised considering the charm and suave demeanor he possesses. 

“You can relax, darlin’. ‘M not gonna try anythin’ or touch ya without your consent.” 

Your shoulders visibly relax at that, not even noticing they were tense to begin with. He didn’t give you bad vibes or scare you. He made you nervous—a feeling you haven’t felt with a man in a very long time. 

“So,” You start, voice scratchy from talking so much hours prior and the burn of the whiskey affecting your throat, “You usually bring women home like this?” You’re half teasing and half curious, wanting to see if this really is a regular occurrence for him. 

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and practically vibrates the whole couch. “No, sugar. You’d be the first t’ even recognize me just by my voice. Gotta say, ‘m pretty impressed with that. Guess you’re a regular viewer then, I take it.” 

Now he’s the one teasing, but there’s a knowing tone in his voice. You didn’t even have to say it. He knows. 

There’s really no point in denying how turned on he gets you, so you just… let it happen. 

You feel a little looser with the whiskey swimming in your veins, giving you the bit of courage you mustered up within the past minute or so. You sink into the couch further, spreading your legs enough to keep the man curious. 

He watches you wearily, eyes trained on your body and the signals you were emitting. 

“You’re the only man that can get me off now. You’ve got me wrapped around those skillful fingers, Mr. Ryder.” Your voice sounds more smooth and sultry than you expected it to, but it was definitely working in your favor. 

“These skillful fingers would love to show you a thing or two, baby.” His fingers twitch around the glass he holds tightly; clearly a form of self-restraint. 

You didn’t want him to hold back anymore. 

“Show me.” You say. 

A small groan emits from the back of his throat. 

You suck in a breath as your eyes notice his going completely dark, drowning in desire for you. His once bright hazel eyes have since been replaced with something deeper than a simple need to satiate. 

It was fucking carnal. 

He downs the rest of his drink and licks his lips, patting his jean-clad thigh. 

“Sit on my lap. Back against my chest.” He commands, and you try to smoothly maneuver yourself onto him just as he’d asked. 

Once you’re settled on top of him, he gently grips onto both of your knees to spread your legs apart so they’re on either side of his thick thighs. 

Your lips part and you don’t even notice you’re breathing heavier until you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“Relax, baby. ‘M gonna make you feel good. If you need me to stop, just tap my thigh twice and hard. Got it?” 

“Yes.” You whisper, nearly shaking in anticipation. 

“Good.” 

And his hands are grazing up your legs to the inner part of your thighs, delicately tracing your skin. Goosebumps raise at his featherlight touch, and before you know it, he’s spreading his own legs wider to spread yours. 

You were aching and damp even back at the diner as you sat with him in the booth, studying his handsome features. The cool air of the home hits the dampness on the cotton panties you wore. 

Ryder’s fingers made their way up to the lace trim of your panties, causing you to softly whimper for him. You genuinely didn’t think you needed anyone to touch you so fucking bad in your life. 

You didn’t want to come off whiny and absolutely desperate, so you kept your pathetic begging to yourself. 

“So wet already, pretty girl. This all for me?” 

You can’t muster up the words because your brain is simply mush at this point, and all you want is his fingers on you, and fuck, in you. 

“You know I respect you, right baby?” 

Respect you? 

You’ve only known this man—physically—for a few hours, albeit knowing his voice and his body long before he’d even tell you his real name. 

And yet, there’s a comfort in his presence. One that would have you willing to do nearly anything for him—with him. 

And all you could do was meekly nod your head at his words, his Southern twang dripping in honey—buzzing into your veins. 

You turn your head to look at him with a bewildered expression on your face, though, wondering why he’d ask such a thing. 

He shoots you a devilish smile. 

“Good, ‘cuz for the next few minutes it’s gonna look like I don’t.” 

“Oh, fuck.” You mewl, tossing your head back onto his shoulder. He noses at your jaw, littering kisses and small nips all along your jawline and neck as he slides your panties to the side.

He slides his middle finger through your slick slit, moving up to circle your already sensitive clit. You shudder at the touch, clamping your eyes shut as you softly moan. 

“Fuck baby, you’re drippin’ already. This what I do to ya? You get this wet when you’re by yourself and you’re bein’ a dirty fuckin’ girl gettin’ yourself off to my videos? Hm?” 

His deep voice vibrates through your body, finger traveling down to your entrance. He teases you as he slips the tip of his finger into you—nothing more—and moves it back out. 

He continues this a few times, and when you don’t answer him, he slaps your dripping cunt lightly. You gasp and grip onto his forearm that was wrapped around your torso. 

“Answer me.” 

“God, yes, I–I fuckin’ love your videos. You always get me this wet. Every time. You’re just so—fuck—goddamn hot.” 

He chuckles at your blabbering. “Hot, huh? You think that highly of me?” 

“Ryder,” You moan as he fully sinks his middle finger into you. He stops his movements and it takes everything in you not to rock your hips. 

“Joel.” 

“W-what?” 

“I want you moaning my real name, baby.” 

Joel. 

Joel. 

That name is somehow very fitting for him, and lucky for you, it rolls off the tongue easily. 

“Joel.” You test it, and his grip on you tightens. 

“Atta girl.” He praises, sinking a second finger into you. You moan at the feeling, long fingers hitting spots yours never could. He curls his fingers to hit that exact spot and you cry out in pleasure. 

You can feel Joel’s cocky smirk on his lips as he kisses your braided hair, likely in a complete disarray at this point. 

The squelching noise that reverberated throughout his living room was truly obscene, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, it seemed to spur him on as he twisted his wrist and worked his fingers faster, pressing into that spot inside of you that had you choking on your own moans. 

Without warning, you felt yourself nearly at the brink of your orgasm—and Joel pulls his fingers out of you. You cry in desperation, the beautiful build up completely dissipated. 

“Not. Yet.” Joel’s mouth was next to your ear, nibbling at your lobe as he worked you through the edging. 

He didn’t stop after that, though. He kept the momentum going, sliding his other hand from your torso down to your swollen clit. He slowly starts to rub small circles onto the already overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out a strangled moan as the feeling surges through your body. 

“Now.” He says. 

Your mind was going blank at this point and a pressure kept building and building and building—until you felt a huge gush, forceful and draining. Your eyes snap open to see clear liquid dripping all down the couch. 

“Fuck, Joel I’m sor—”

“Don’t you dare apologize baby. You ever done that before?” He asks, and you shake your head no. He moans at your wordless response and readjusts himself beneath you, and you can suddenly feel how hard he is in his jeans. 

Even through the denim he felt fucking big, and you knew you were in for it. 

“Let me,” You start, shakily sliding off of his lap and onto the floor. “Let me take care of you.” 

Joel watches you and the same muscle in his jaw ticks furiously. He nods without another word as you lean up to kiss the hot skin above his jeans, trailing your lips down to the hemline. You undo the button and zipper swiftly, and he lifts his hips to pull his pants and boxers down to his mid thigh. 

Your hunch was correct: he’s fucking huge. You swallow as you take in the sight of his cock in-person rather than over a screen, and it was even better than you’d imagined all those times. 

You gently grab the base of his silky flesh, giving it a soft squeeze as you move your hand to the tip. Your eyes flicker up to his, and he’s watching you intently. You smile sweetly up at him before bringing your head down to lick the pre come from his slit, moaning as you get a taste of the salty musk. 

Joel’s hand flies to your head, threading his fingers through the loose braid as you slowly lick your way down the vein on the underside of his cock. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” You say, and he groans at your praise. “Even better than I imagined.” 

You bring your tongue back up to the tip and take him in your mouth this time, going as far down as you could before you gagged softly. 

“Fuck yeah baby, just like that. Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me,” He mewls as you set a faster pace, one of your hands coming to pump the rest of his cock you couldn’t reach with your mouth, the other gently fondling his balls. 

You moan around him as his silky flesh easily glides onto your tongue. You enjoy getting him off like this; unraveling him inch by inch just as he’s done to you many times before. 

He began to rock his hips up into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try your damndest to not forcefully gag around him. 

“Mouth feels so goddamn good on me, honey. ‘M not gonna last much longer.” Joel confesses, and your tighten your lips around his cock to silently urge him to let go. 

It was only another minute until his hips completely stilled and his pulsing cock was drained, salty spend coating your mouth in haste. 

He groans loudly as he reaches down to cradle your jaw, slowly sliding your mouth off of him. You swallow his spend and sit back on your heels, looking up at him innocently. 

“On your knees, baby. Ass up.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch, and you happily oblige. He pulls the skirt of your uniform up over your hips and slides your wet panties down your legs so you’re on full display for him. 

You feel his hands slide over the globe of your ass, spreading you apart to get a good look at all of you. You suck in a breath for a second before you feel his fingers slide through your slick folds once more, teasing you so. 

“You ever had a man touch you back here? Pretty little thing.” He asks as his thumb circles the tight ring of your ass. 

“No.” You moan, closing your eyes as you press a cheek to the couch cushion. 

“Hm. ‘S a shame. Feels real good.” 

“Please, Joel.” You truly weren’t above begging for this man to touch you in any way possible. 

“Please what, sugar?” 

“Please—please touch me. Make me feel good. Even better than I already feel.” 

You turn your head more to lock eyes with him staring down at you with a look of determination and hunger. 

He keeps his eyes locked on you as he grabs his half-hard cock, reaching to the coffee table beside you both to grab the foil packet you didn’t even see until this very moment. 

He rips it open and slides it on before sliding his cock through your slick folds. You sigh in pleasure as your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before you open them again as his tip notches your entrance. 

“You ready baby?” 

You nod your head, but he shakes his. 

“Need your words this time darlin’.” 

“Yes Joel. Please.” 

He sinks into you slowly, his girth stretching you out so deliciously. It stung a little, because in truth, you’ve never been with anyone his size. 

Once he’s fully sheathed into you, he shoots you that same wicked grin before letting spit slowly dribble out of his mouth and onto your asshole. 

“Oh fuck me,” You whisper, moaning as his thumb circles the tight ring once again. “Please.” You say, and he hooks his thumb gently into you. 

You feel so full like this, barely even able to comprehend the fact that you’re about to get fucked by your favorite adult content creator. 

Joel starts to rock his hips slowly at first, moaning at how tight you are. He picks up his pace once you’re both comfortable and it feels like he’s punching your fucking gut. 

It’s almost unbearable— but the pleasure outweighs the pain by a mile. He’s rocking his hips so hard that the couch starts to scrape onto the floor, nothing but skin  slapping on skin. You feel a sting on your left asscheek and moan at the contact, realizing Joel had slapped you. 

He does it again, and again, and again, until tears are in your eyes and you can no longer bear the sting. 

“Pussy feels so fuckin’ good baby. Was meant to take this cock, hm?” He says through gritted teeth, and you can’t help but agree with him. 

His hand slides up your back and reaches your hair, pulling it so your head tilts upward. 

“So fuckin’ pretty like this. Love the way you feel around me.” He confesses, taking his thumb out of your tight muscle before wrapping his other arm around your torso once, only to pull you upright this time. 

He’s pistoning into you as you lean back onto his body. His hand wraps gently around your throat as he scatters more kisses onto your jawline and up your earlobe. 

“Can I?” He asks, and you choke out a meek yes. 

His large hand wraps all the way around your throat, squeezing the sides. Joel turns his head down to look at you, all helpless as he fucks you relentlessly. 

Your jaw hangs open and your eyes are squeezed shut, relishing in the all-consuming feeling of Joel. 

Joel, Joel, Joel. 

You open your eyes as you plead his name, feeling another orgasm burning within you. 

He moves his fingers up from your throat to grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he spits into it. 

“Swallow.” He commands, and you don’t question him one bit. 

He likes seeing you like this—submissive and practically breedable—and yet, he barely knew you. He knew he wanted that to change after this, though.

“Joel I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hoarse and desperate, trying so hard to keep the feeling of pleasure at bay. 

It was no use, though. The way he was looking at you made you want to fucking risk it all, and when he finally bent his face down to kiss you, you knew it was a wrap. 

You both moaned into each other’s mouths as your tongues tangled together, tasting each other and exploring one another. 

It wasn’t long before the coil finally snapped for you, and seconds later, him as well. You both panted heavily as you were submerged in the post-coital bliss. 

“You did so good, baby. Hopefully I lived up to your expectations.” 

You huff a laugh at his words as he pulls out of you and  shuffles himself down onto the couch, pulling you on top of him. He kisses the top of your head as he plays with your hair, a strange feeling blooming in his chest as you both enjoy the presence of one another. 

One thing’s for sure and two things for certain: 

You’re everything he’s wanted, and he didn’t even know how to tell you. There was no way he was letting you go now. 

-

tags: @endlessthxxghts @punkshort @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @party-hearses

@joelsgreys @ozarkthedog

[t1koy-roll]

Backwards compatibility

(Image description down below!)

[Image ID: A two-panel comic of a woman with graying hair, facing away from the viewer talking to Spiderman-2099 (aka. Miguel O'Hara) from Across The SpiderVerse. They are standing on the rooftops of New York's many industrial buildings. Comic panel one shows Miguel covered in the purple-and-black checkered placeholder texture from Javascript. The woman asks him "Why do you look like that?" to which he replies "Excuse me?" in a bemused tone. She says "I don't think your suit is working. Got something more.. 'graphics-friendly'?", pointing at his malfunctioning suit. He proceeds to ask his holographic agent LYLA: "For shock's sake- Lyla, do you have any period-appropriate renders?" to which she replies "Hm... I may have a few!"

Comic panel two is a GIF format, showing Lyla snapping her fingers, changing Miguel's outfit with a bright orange flash of light, showing different versions of him in Roblox, Poptropica, Minecraft, an emo from 2000s MySpace, and his old 1992 suit in a backward-compatible design that the grey-haired woman could see. She is frowning, unamused with how she can only see him in the styles of old internet games and subcultures. /.End ID]

[onethousandrbirds]

20%, What was the queerest thing you've ever done?

hmm. either the time i took a class taught by the most empty-headed professor to be near my crush (equally empty-headed) OR making a pronoun spinning wheel out of pipe cleaners and paper plates (it dissolved in a rain storm. unfortunately i don't think i've got anything juicy and nsfw for this one

also, do you need a portable charger thingy?

[tanpl-if]

In the summer of 1986 you get a letter informing you of your mother's death.

The first and only letter you get in ten years since you left your hometown.

You stand in the middle of the old, tiny room that you can barely afford to rent and read it over and over again until the buzz at the back of your head quiets down. Until your hands stop shaking.

You think of what it means for you.

I hope you arrive soon. You know Marrowbone will always have a place for you.

The words spin in your head and you think of Marrowbone then—a secret, lonely place, standing at the edge of everything, surrounded by forests and fields, barely acknowledged on the maps.

But it is home.

And whether you like it or not, you are coming back.

There are no people left is an 18+ horror inerractive fiction game for language, themes and potential explicit content

• romance one of the 5 ROs or choose a platonic route

• choose between 3 preset personalities for MC that will open different paths in the story and exclusive scenes

• reconnect with your old friends and make new connections

• explore your hometown

• remember why you left

DEMO: (09.03.25)

Olya - Aside from working the bar left to her care by her parents, she isn't up to much of anything, the days passing by her seamlessly. You watch her work - pale fingers gripping the glass she is cleaning a bit too tight, lips pressed into a frown - and think how much she has changed since you last saw her.

She looks older. More tired too, but more than anything angry. With life perhaps. With you - for sure. The tension hangs between you, threads through every conversation, follows with every touch.

A decade of silence will do that, you think, almost guilty. You wonder if there was ever a chance of putting the fragile pieces back into place.

You wonder if the only thing left for you is to mourn.

Timur - Head held low, he keeps to himself most of the time. You remember him a sickly thing - his parents never letting him out to play, hiding him away in fear for his poor health. You remember sneaking into his room - muted laughter and hushed whispers, when you kept him company.

The memories taste bitter now, after all those years.

He seems more shut off now, and as much as you expected him to forget you, you're even more surprised when he gives you the same smile that reminds you of a sweet little boy that used to be your neighbor.

In the midst of half-forgotten faces and unwelcome memories, he still feels the same as when you were kids.

You're not sure if it brings you comfort or not.

The Doctor - He does his work well, and that's what matters, the doctor says, not in the most friendly fashion.

His face is lined with age, gray temples vivid among the black, as he runs his fingers through his hair, looking at another report with pursed lips and tired eyes.

You don't remember seeing him before, a hard thing to achieve for one of the few doctors of Marrowbone - a surprise and a revelation at the same time.

You know he is local, and your mind burns with questions. You can't imagine anyone in their right mind coming back here if they ever managed to leave - not by choice anyway - but you hold your tongue. It's not your place to intrude.

And it's definitely not your place to judge.

The Gravekeeper - As frail as she appears to be, she manages to be just as cheerful.

The keeper's granddaughter spends her days taking care of the dead - keeping them company, she says - the hem of her dress brushing against gray stone, as she moves around, steps light.

She is all sweet smiles when she talks to you, dimples catching your eye. And though you never saw her before, there is Marrowbone etched into her in a way you can't explain - dark eyes and a knowing pull of her lips - there is no doubt she has always been a part of this town.

The Widow - There is a rumor about her, almost a tale, nurtured by years of boredom from the residents of small town - not much to do in Marrowbone aside from gossiping about your neighbors - about a woman on the hill, lonesome in her manor, a number of husbands lying dead in the small graveyard in front of her home. About a woman always wearing black, forever in mourning. Some believe her cursed, though a more cynical crowd would call her much meaner names - a gold-digger with an exceptional streak of luck.

A witch.

You see her there, standing at the top of the hill - her dress swaying in the wind, black veil covering her face. And though you can't make out a single detail behind it, somehow you know - her eyes are on you.

Sonya - Your mother. You don't know what happened to her.

asks and scenarios are welcome!

tags: @interact-if

[pretentious-blonde]

new neighbour

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve is down because of his dating life, or lack thereof. that is until the new girl captures his attention

warnings: literally none, nervous and sweet steve!!

a/n: i have been gone for 3 months but uni has finally settled down!

series masterlist

A steady stream of gray light filtered through the wide front windows of Family Video, illuminating the rows upon rows of VHS cases. The day was uncharacteristically slow, the kind of weekday lull that left the store feeling hollow and cavernous. Steve Harrington stood behind the counter, leaning his elbows on the chipped laminate surface, tapping his fingers in a pattern he’d repeated so many times in an attempt to give him something to focus on. 

His eyes hurt under the fluorescents, and though he tried to keep a casual expression, anyone who looked long enough could see the small, flickering signs of boredom crossing his features. On the other side of the store, Robin roamed the aisles, a small stack of VHS tapes in her hands, placing each one in its rightful place on the shelf. Every so often, she’d glance toward Steve, as if expecting some lively remark, but he remained lost in his thoughts.

“Hey,” Robin called, sliding a Night of the Comet tape onto the appropriate rack. “So… Vicky and I were talking the other night, and we thought, maybe this weekend…” She paused, drifting closer to the register so her voice wouldn’t echo.

Steve raised an eyebrow, still drumming his fingers on the counter. “Yeah, maybe what?”

Robin placed the last tape in her stack onto the shelf with a gentle thud. “Well, we’re making dinner. A real dinner—you know, in an actual kitchen, with actual groceries. Vicky wants me to learn her mom’s lasagna recipe. The whole shebang.” Her bright eyes searched his face. “Why don’t you come over? Eat with us?”

To anyone else, that might sound like a friendly suggestion. But there was a flicker in Robin’s eyes that Steve knew well: an undercurrent of pity. After all, he’d gone on a date last weekend that hadn’t exactly gone well. He was used to being the one with endless charm, the guy who always had a witty quip or a warm smile to keep a conversation going. Yet none of that had worked on Tanya—no matter how hard he tried. God was he trying.

Steve sighed, pushing himself upright.

“Yeah… no.”

Robin visibly balked, confusion knitting her brows. “What do you mean, ‘yeah… no’? You can’t just respond to an invitation like that.”

“Exactly how I just did,” he said, mouth tilting into a faint, lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m not interrupting your date night just because you feel bad for me. I know you guys are trying to, like, throw me a bone or whatever.”

Robin’s cheeks puffed out in a mock sigh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She turned away, pretending to occupy herself by adjusting a crooked VHS case. The slight shift in her voice told him otherwise. She always was a terrible liar. 

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what I’m talking about.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though the memory of last weekend pricked at him more than he liked to admit.

Tanya had been gorgeous—dark hair, lovely eyes, a laugh that could probably stop traffic. At first glance, she was the perfect fit. But after an hour of him asking question after question and receiving nothing but uninterested one-word answers, he’d realised that appearances weren't enough to carry a conversation. The spark was missing, that intangible something that made him want to stay, to laugh, to learn more. It just wasn’t there. He was beginning to think it never would be, at least for him.

Robin finally turned back. “Okay, so maybe I know you’ve been bummed. But it’s not pity, Steve.” She rolled her eyes. “Vicky genuinely likes you. We both do.”

“Sure,” Steve said, gently drumming his fingers again. “Vicky likes me enough to let me crash her romantic, candle-lit dinner with her girlfriend.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Yeah, that’s not weird at all.”

Robin shot him a look. “It’s not weird if we invite you. And besides, it’s not like this is going to be some super fancy dinner. There might be candles, but that’s only so I can see the food properly, okay?”

Steve snorted, though the weight in his chest didn’t quite lift. “Look, Rob, I appreciate it,” he said, voice softening. “I do. But I’m not sure I’m up for third-wheeling on a Saturday night. I think it’s safer for everyone if I steer clear, especially given your experimental cooking.”

She pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “Wow, way to appreciate me trying to feed you.” Though she spoke jokingly, she studied his face for signs of deeper sadness.

He was Steve Harrington—he was supposed to be the one with the perpetual easy grin. But ever since his dating and social life had crashed and burned, Robin could see the twinge of hurt in his eyes. He was insecure. He liked to feel needed, he always had. He had no problem giving himself to others. So watching everyone else find their person only made him more self-conscious. The truth was nobody needed him, and that knowledge was slowly eating away at him.

“You know,” Robin added, resting her hands on the cart that held a few more tapes, “it’s not just about the date. I get it—you’re lonely. It’s okay to admit that. We’ve all been there.”

He opened his mouth, his gaze slipping away to look out the window at a slow-moving car. The driver was just a blur behind the glass, but it gave him something to focus on. Because she was right. He was lonely, and part of him wanted to accept Robin’s invitation so badly. The other part of him couldn’t bear to insert himself as a third wheel—he knew that feeling too well. He’d spent years longing for something real, something effortlessly mutual. Maybe he’d find it eventually, but not if he was hanging around a couple who only extended the invite out of sympathy.

“Okay,” Robin said, exhaling the tension that had built up between them. “If you change your mind, call me. Seriously, no guilt trip, no questions asked. Vicky won’t mind. We’ll have a plate ready.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s mouth. It still looked like it held a bit of sadness but he covered it up to not upset her further. “Yeah. Thanks, Rob. I promise, if I get the sudden urge for a crisp lasagna—”

“Hey!”

He grinned for real this time. “—I’ll give you a call. Right now, though, I think I’m just gonna stick to renting a movie and ordering takeout. Maybe keep my Saturday night simple.”

Robin nodded, accepting his declination. Her gaze lingered, and she wanted to push harder, but she knew Steve well enough to sense that pushing too much would only drive him further into his own shell. “Alright,” she said softly, reaching out to pat his arm. “You know where to find me if you need to talk.”

“I know. And thanks.” He meant it.

Their eyes met before Robin moved off to shelve the remaining tapes. He watched her go, then slowly leaned forward on the counter again. Outside, the sun was getting a little brighter, illuminating the Family Video sign and casting reflections across the empty parking lot. He was trying to think about whatever movie he would undoubtedly be bringing home with him for the weekend, alone. That is, until he sees you.

You’re walking at an unhurried pace, shoulders slightly hunched against the cool breeze, but there’s something about you that holds his attention. The way your outfit matches in a way that feels effortless but intentional, the way your hair catches the light, styled just enough to suggest effort but not so much that it seems like you’re trying too hard. 

You push open the glass door, and the bell above gives a soft jingle that seems to echo in the stillness. The warmth of the store envelops you, a cozy contrast to the lingering chill outside. Rows of tapes tower around you, aisles lit by bulbs that buzz quietly in the background. It all feels a bit nostalgic, not too intimidating. 

Behind the front counter, Steve stands with his elbows braced on the worn surface. For a second, it looks like you’ve interrupted him mid-daydream—his brown eyes are distant. The moment you step inside, he blinks, and you can practically see the switch flip as you catch him. Suddenly, he’s all awareness, standing straighter, swallowing once. A faint flush colours the tips of his ears, though he tries to hide it by running a hand through his hair.

He looks at you in a way that he hopes is welcoming, he’s not sure if he should say something immediately or give you space to browse. There is a gentle lift of his shoulders as he inhales, working up the courage to speak. You offer a polite nod and slide toward the nearest aisle before he can get a word out.

He exhales a shaky breath he didn’t realise he was holding, mind racing as he tries to place you. He can’t recall seeing you here before, and he was certain he would remember if you had. He drags his fingers over the keyboard, tapping random keys to pretend he’s busy. In truth, all he wants is to keep glancing your way. It was maddening forcing his attention to the computer screen. 

You wander among the rows, taking in the titles. There’s something oddly comforting about the smell of plastic VHS covers. Occasionally, you catch sight of Steve peeking over from the desk, just for a moment, before he ducks back down to avoid being caught staring. You find yourself smiling at his obvious attempt to be casual.

He, meanwhile, is silently scolding himself. He knew he was being weird—God, he needs to get a grip. But there’s a traitorous part of him that can’t help noticing the delicate way your hair frames your face, or the look of your jacket—well worn, well loved, taken care of. Even though your aura was disarming, he felt like he was in high school all over again, unable to stop staring at the pretty girl in the corridor.

Eventually, you settle on a tape, The Empire Strikes Back—something classic you’ve been meaning to watch again. Taking a steadying breath, you head to the counter, the plastic case clutched in your hand. As you approach, he forces himself to appear relaxed, collected, though inside he’s buzzing with anticipation.

“Um, hey… Steve,” you look up from his name tag, placing the tape before him. His eyes dart down to the cover, then back up to you. “Do you work here?”

The moment you say it, you realise how silly it sounds—he’s in the company vest, with a company name tag on it. Heat flares across your cheeks.

A laugh bubbles out of him—warm, kind. He shakes his head gently as if to say, Don’t worry about it.

“Yeah, I do.” 

You nod, cheeks still burning from your awkward question. “Yes. Sorry, I, uh… obviously you work here.”

“Nah, no problem. I’ve gotten weirder questions,” his smile widens, softening around the edges. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. “Good pick, by the way.”

As he scans the tape, you notice the slight tremor in his hand. It’s barely there, but you sense the sweet, nervous energy radiating from him. His gaze flickers to you, then back to the screen, then to you again—like he can’t quite decide which deserves his attention more. You, probably.

“So, um,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you… new in town?” He tries to sound casual, but a hopeful note creeps into his voice, as though he’s crossing his fingers for you to keep talking.

You brighten at the question, happy to have something normal to say. “I am, actually. I just moved here a few days ago. The apartment is literally right across the street—well, I think you can see it from the window.”

His eyes widened with interest and with the knowledge of your close proximity.

“Yeah? Pretty convenient if you want a movie.” And maybe to see me, he almost adds. “So, when exactly did you move in?”

“Three days ago,” you reply, letting out a breathy exhale at the memory. “I’ve been knee-deep in boxes ever since. I finally decided I deserved a break, and what better way than a movie night to make the new place feel more like home, right?”

He nods fervently, excitement sparking behind his eyes. “That’s true. Shame I wasn’t working that day—maybe I could’ve, I don’t know… helped haul a box or two?” He offers a tiny shrug, his words stumbling a bit as he realises how forward that might sound. “I mean, not that I… I just… you know,” he begins to backtrack.

A warm giggle escapes you. “I appreciate the thought. My arms hurt for, like, the whole day afterwards.”

He huffs a little chuckle, feeling relief wash over him when you don’t seem put off. “Exactly.”

He glances around the store for Robin knowing she’s probably lurking somewhere, listening in with a sly grin. But in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care too much; he wants you to have his full attention.

“If you don’t have a membership yet,” he says, fishing around under the counter for a form, “you’ll need to fill this out.” He slides a paper and pen toward you.

“Right, I’m totally new,” you reply, stepping closer to read the sheet. As you lean in, Steve notices the light scent of your shampoo—or maybe your perfume—and it makes his pulse skip. He’s had customers before, obviously, but none have made him feel this flustered. It wasn't a feeling he necessarily disliked. 

Fighting the urge to stare too obviously, he busies himself with looking at the returns papers, occasionally sneaking a glance your way. He notices the way your brow furrows as you fill in the different boxes, huffing to yourself when you wrote your previous address, crossing it out and starting again. It was so human, so endearing, he had to turn away fully or his amused smile would give him away. 

Once you’ve filled out the form, you pass it back. He types in your details, the corners of his mouth quirking up as he commits your name to memory. “Perfect,” he tells you, printing out a fresh membership card and sliding it across the counter.

“Thanks,” you say, tucking it into your wallet. “Feels official now.”

He can’t help but feel upset that this moment is slipping away—any second, you’ll thank him, smile, and leave. Then he’ll be stuck behind the counter once again, replaying this conversation over and over until you come to return it, which could be a week from now. That would be unacceptable.

He clears his throat. “Uh, so,” he begins, voice wavering ever so slightly. “You got any big plans this weekend? Since you’re, you know, new here.” You could tell he was aiming for confident, but that casual tone of his falters as he seems genuinely invested in your response. 

His smile drops as he hears your reply. “Actually, yeah, I do,” his heart sinks, mind already going into overdrive.

You’re probably telling him politely to let him down. He knew he was being too brazen, but he couldn’t stop the embarrassment from settling in his chest. 

“I need to head into town and get some furniture,” you explain as his head looks up, stopping him from spiralling. “I heard there’s a store a few miles away?”

He smiles at the fact that you’re still talking and didn’t just shut him down, you’re just busy—and that’s okay.

“Oh, yeah,” he nods eagerly. “There is, um, it’s about a ten-minute drive, tops. Depends on traffic, I guess, but Hawkins isn’t exactly wild.” He lets out a weak laugh. “What are you, uh, looking for?”

“Mostly a bookshelf. I thought I could just stack my books, but they’re already in danger of tumbling over.”

He is listening, but a large part of him is cursing how little attention he paid in English class. Wishing he could humour you more.

“That’s cool,” he says safely. “So, you’re a big reader?”

You nod, eyes lighting up. “Oh absolutely, I love getting lost in a story.”

He can’t help but think how sweet you are, the warmth in your expression filling his stomach, urging him past his nerves to finally ask what he had been wanting to.

“Well, if you need help lugging that thing up the stairs to your apartment, I’m, uh… not working this weekend.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, he realises that, once again, it may have been too forward. 

“Really?” You ask, face brightening before he had the chance to overthink. “That’d be great! I was kind of worried about getting it back here on my own.”

His heart does that little flip at your acceptance of his offer. He nods enthusiastically, a few rogue hairs settling on his forehead, making his appearance more boyish. 

“It’s no problem,” he tells you as he puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear relaxed as if this wasn’t the most exciting opportunity to happen to him all year. “I’ve got a car that’s… well, it’s big enough. Definitely more roomy than your average trunk. If yours can’t handle the bookshelf, mine can.”

You break into a grateful grin. “Wow, that’s really nice of you. Seriously.”

A blush creeps across his cheeks at your kind words, his face turning bashful. “Honestly, it’s no big deal at all.” 

It really wasn't, if all it takes is transporting some furniture to spend more time with you, he would gladly do it.

You lift your shoulders in a shrug, feeling slightly indebted. “Well, at least let me get you a coffee or something afterwards, to say thanks. I insist.”

“No, that’s—” He starts to protest, but the look on your face tells him you’re determined. It’s kind of adorable how your eyebrows pinch together.

“I insist,” you repeat, a little more firmly, and he laughs quietly.

So you're stubborn, he can work with that.

“Alright,” he concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. “Coffee it is. How about…” Think, Steve, think. “Saturday morning, I can meet you out front, say, 10:30? Unless that’s too early?”

In truth, he’d be ready at sunrise if it meant spending more time with you, but he doesn't want to sound desperate.

“That’s perfect,” you say, beaming as you pick up your rented tape. “Thank you again, Steve.”

“Sure,” he replied, feeling a grin stretch across his face, so genuine it almost hurts his cheeks. He is shocked at how he managed to do this. How—by some miracle—you of all people had moved across the street. 

You give a small wave, and the door shuts behind you, the bell chiming one last time. His heart is still hammering away as he stares at the closed door, trying to process that he just—did that. He just set up what is basically a date… or at least a coffee situation. Either way, it’s something.

In the sudden quiet, he hears a muffled sound from behind him, and when he spins around, there’s Robin standing in the break room doorway. She’s practically bouncing on her heels, eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh, my God,” she says, not even bothering to hide the grin overtaking her face. “Was that—did you just—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts her off, rolling his eyes even though he can’t keep the giddy smile off his own lips. “Shut up, Robin.”

She doesn’t shut up, but he doesn't mind. All he can think about is Saturday morning, and the way your face lit up when he offered to help you, and how maybe this is going to be the start of something really, really good.

[lupinsversion]

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝

• summary: when james finds himself talking to the other marauders about reader.

• contains: lovesick james potter, fluff

• word count: 493

masterlist || requests

James lounged in the common room by the fireplace, a goofy smile on his face as he thought about the girl who had completely captured his heart. The other Marauders: Sirius, Peter, and Remus noticed his smitten expression and exchanged knowing glances.

Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes and chuckled. “Look at him, all lovesick and heart-eyed."

Sirius smirked, raising an eyebrow at James' dreamy expression. "Oh, someone's got it bad," he teased, his gray eyes sparkling with amusement. "I've never seen you like this, Prongs.” He added, the nickname carrying a hint of friendly mockery.

Remus chuckled lightly, leaning back against the chair he was sat on. "You've fallen, and fallen hard," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection.

James' cheeks flushed slightly as the Marauders called him out on his smitten state, but he couldn't deny the truth. He was completely smitten, and he couldn't stop the happy thoughts that filled his mind. But he tried to play it cool. "Oh, shut it, you lot.” He retorted with a sheepish smile, trying to regain a sliver of dignity.

Sirius chuckled, the smirk still playing on his lips. "Face it, Prongs, you're whipped.” He teased, enjoying having the upper hand in the playful banter.

Remus glanced back at James with a perceptive gaze, noting the speed at which James had fallen head over heels for this girl. "You know, Prongs, you fell for her like a ton of bricks," he pointed out, his tone laced with amusement. "I've never seen you this smitten this quickly before."

James leaned back against the couch, a silly smile still on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I know. That lil' shit tripped me, and now I can't seem to get her out of my head." He spoke in an overly affectionate tone, his words dripping with smitten adoration for the girl.

Sirius' smirk widened at James' confession, amused by his smitten state. "Oh, so she's a little heartbreaker, eh? Got you on your ass quicker than a bludger to the head."

James chuckled at Sirius' observation, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "You know what's even funnier? She actually tripped me. Our first meeting, and she literally sends me toppling on my ass."

Sirius burst out laughing, the image of James being tripped by this girl was too humorous to not find it hilarious. "Oh, that's brilliant! Tripped you, eh? How very...graceful of her.” Sirius teased with a smirk.

Remus chuckled lightly, enjoying the playful banter. "Seems like she left quite the impression, Prongs. First meeting and you already fell for her, quite literally.” He quipped, a smile playing on his lips.

James rolled his eyes playfully, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. "Oh, shut it, Moony. It wasn't my finest moment," he joked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "But you know what they say, all's fair in love and war. She got me fair and square."

© lupinsversion 2024

[detectivesvu]

Flirtatious Fate

Rafael Barba x Fem! Detective! Reader Tags: Near smut. Lots of flirting. Barba and Reader almost get caught. Sonny being a great advice giver. Word Count: 6.5k "And what if we are? Would that be such a bad thing?"

It wasn't at all uncommon for the counselor to work overtime.

Rafael more than likely worked more overtime hours than any of the attorneys in the whole building. He lived for his work, so it was no shock that it was nearly 8:00 o'clock and he was still buried in his work with no intention of going anywhere anytime soon. Most of the building had thinned out. All the people who were much better at maintaining a work-life balance had left hours ago - leaving Rafael as practically the only one left. Not that he minded, he could always work better alone.

But he didn't mind having some company. There were a few faces that he always was always welcome to and would always make time for...especially one in particular.

His attention was stolen away from his work when there was a knock on his open door, obviously indicating that someone was there to see him. Clearly, he wasn't the only one who pulled a lot of overtime hours.

He knew exactly who was at his door just by the specific sound of the knock. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did - and his heart fluttered at the knowledge of the person at his door.

Their relationship was complicated, although neither of them realized that the way they acted toward one another made things a gray area. They simply believe they were colleagues...friendly colleagues at best. Somehow, neither of them really realized that their dynamic came from a much more personal and emotional place.

Nonetheless, he was happy she was there...even though he didn't realize it.

"Come in, detective." He said, without even giving a glance up from what he was working on.

A genuine smile was on the detective's face at the sound of his invitation. She entered the room with a cup of coffee in each hand, her foot kicking the door closed behind her as she entered. She was alone in her entrance, and the fact that her partner wasn't with her let him know this wasn't a business visit.

“Counselor,” She greeted. “Do you have time for coffee and a chat?”

If there was any single person in the world who could outdrink Rafael Barba when it came to coffee - it was [Y/N]. She could drink coffee at any time of day and could put down at least four cups a day. That was one thing they shared - they worked a lot and ran on nothing much pure passion for their job and heavy amounts of caffeine.

Rafael looked at her then, curious and intrigued. He wondered where her partner was, considering she was still dressed in her work attire, which also let him know she wasn't done working for the day.

"Be my guest," He gestured to the chair opposite his desk, leaning back in his own seat knowing he was about to be distracted completely. "What brings you here?"

She approached him, handing him a hot latte that was fresh and just to his liking. As coffee connoisseurs, they had entertained plenty of coffee conversations in the past. He wasn't really at all shocked that she knew his preference in coffee. He watched her from over the rim of his cup as she sat down with her own drink, clearly very comfortable in his presence.

"Carisi is upstairs talking to someone, so I figured I'd stop by and say hello." She said casually, but the sparkle in her eye let him know she had come by for more than a quick greeting.

A small smirk appeared on his face when he caught that look in her eyes. He knew her too well. She was here for a bigger reason. They were always usually very to the point with each other. They saw no reason to waste time when she was here with a purpose.

"Is that so? You came all this way just to say 'hello' to me?" He asked, a hint of playfulness in his normally dry tone.

She shrugged, a knowing grin appearing on her face as she ran her finger absentmindedly around the lid of her cup.

"Well..." She began. "I might have something interesting to tell you."

Now this made more sense. The coffee, the late visit, the giddiness. She was here to gossip - a habit that she frequently and flat out denied that she ever took part in.

"Okay," He nodded, his smirk now turning more curious. "Don't keep me in suspense."

She set her coffee down on his desk, now sitting up completely straight as she used both her hands to talk. He knew she had something big if she was this focused.

"You know how I'm kind of friends with the secretary on the fifth floor of the precinct?" She asked, jogging his memory. "Remember how I was telling you she had been acting strange?"

Rafael's eyes darted around the room as he racked his brain. mentally sorting through hundreds, if not thousands, of conversations the two of them had shared until he placed it.

"Yeah, you said she was acting secretive or something like that." He remembered, albeit vaguely.

"Right! You know I'm not one to gossip," She said, and Rafael had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at that comment. "But she's pregnant!"

Let the records show, Rafael had never met this said secretary before. The only things he knew about her were things that [Y/N] had disclosed to him, but evidently she had shared just enough with him for him to be all in on this revelation.

"No way," He tilted his head. "How do you know?"

"She told me!" She remarked. "I really couldn't believe it. I knew something was different about her. I had to come tell you when I could because you were the only person who agreed with me that something was up."

His heart fluttered again at that. It was purely just convenience that had brought her to his office that night, but it still made him shudder to think she had reserved a conversation solely for him.

"It seems we were right then," He took another sip, his eyebrows knitting together when he realized something. "Didn't you tell me she was single?"

There was a brief silence as she only shared a certain look with him. Her silence answered his question completely.

"Ah, so that's the crux of it all," He said, figuring he might as well fully emerge himself in this gossip session. "So, I'm guessing you have information on who the father is?"

"No," She shook her head. "I'm still working on that one...but I have a few guesses."

"Let's hear them." He encouraged her.

Normally, it would've been so unusual for Rafael to engage in this kind of talk. He didn't rightly care what a stranger to him had going on in their personal life...but he didn't like them the way he liked the detective sitting pretty in front of him, genuinely enjoying conversing with him on any given day.

"The rumor on the fifth floor is that it's a cop over in narcotics..." She took a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. "But that said cop has been gone for nearly six months. I don’t think the math adds up.”

Rafael considered her statement, nodding in agreement and urging her to continue.

"My other guess is a bit far-fetched, but not unreasonable," She said. "A few weeks ago she went home to Chicago to visit her family, and I remember her mentioning to me that she was thinking about paying an old flame of hers a visit..."

"Oh, that's interesting...and certainly a possibility, I suppose." He replied. "Is that all?"

"Yeah, that's all I got," She shrugged. "I am being unfair. I shouldn't be making a conversation out of her business."

Rafael chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, we all indulge in a little nosy talk here and there." He said, feeling a pang of disappointment knowing this conversation was coming to an end.

“I know, I know. That’s really all I know," She reached for her coffee cup again. "But enough about me. How are things going here?”

He chuckled when she changed the subject, noticing her eyes lingering on his. He should've known she had something else locked and loaded.

"Things here are…as expected," he said, gesturing to the stacks of files on his desk. "Too many cases, too little time." He picked up his coffee, taking a sip before continuing. "But I always manage, one way or another."

“That you do, counselor.” She grinned. “This case has been a tough one…how are you holding up?”

He leaned back in his chair, a weary smile on his face.

"You know how it is." He said, and that was all he needed to say for her to completely understand.

"That I do," She sighed. "After all these years, I've never quite mastered dealing with everything we see."

"It's not easy, that's for sure," He said. "But I must say, you've handled yourself quite well in difficult situations, detective."

“I try my best,” She shrugged. “Some days I wonder if I should've stuck with my college job."

"Which was...?" He probed.

"Bartending," She confessed. "Also a stressful job, but nothing like doing police work."

This was new information to him. He actually didn't know that about her. He chuckled, imagining her in a bar apron, wiping down tables and listening to drunken rants.

"I could see that." He teased, a playful smile on his face. "But then we would be missing out on your skills as a detective."

She gave a small laugh, but didn't respond just yet. They sat in a comfortable silence, the conversation fizzling out before a new one blossomed.

"Maybe I need a vacation." She said in a way that seemed random, but this was usually how their conversations went. They would start on one topic and then end up somewhere completely different within minutes.

He took the opportunity to tease her, something that was also very common for their interactions.

"From SVU or from me?" He joked, the playful banter coming easy between them.

"Oh, never from you, Rafael." She matched his tone, his first name sliding off her tongue like it was something she said often.

He felt a brief flash of surprise when she used his first name, but he quickly recovered and played along with the banter.

"Careful, detective. That sounds almost affectionate." He teased.

She scoffed at that, an entertained smile on her face.

"We work for the law. We hardly have time to be affectionate in any regard." She said, and it was completely true.

"Yet here we are, two busy people making time for each other." He took a sip of his coffee, then looked at her with a more serious expression. "But you're right, it's not easy to balance work and personal life. Especially in our line of work."

“I can relate. Somehow you and my co-workers are the only people I really talk to,” She spoke, her voice soft. “Not…that I mind talking to you. Who else is going to tell you the neighborhood gossip?”

He smiled, genuinely flattered that she considered him one of her few friends.

"I must admit," he said, a hint of jest in his voice. "I do enjoy hearing your neighborhood gossip. It breaks up the monotony of the legal jargon."

“I imagine it does,” She returned a smile. “Maybe eventually we’ll figure out how to balance work and personal lives. Figure out how to do something other than work.”

Clearly they often toed the line between being professional, being casual, and being flirtatious. This was their norm. Everybody who knew them wouldn't even bat an eye at this conversation between them. But what Rafael said next would've raised a few brows. He wasn't sure what made him say it. Maybe it was the late hour or the moment just felt right, but he made a remark that couldn't have been confused as anything other than personal.

"Maybe we will. It's about time we started making time for ourselves." He paused, then said with a teasing smile. "And each other."

Her gaze fixed on him, her eyes slightly squinted as she smirked at him. She wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. Neither of them had ever crossed this line before. They were both aware that this was a new level of comfort with one another.

“Counselor, are you flirting with me?”

A sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he held her gaze.

"And if I was, detective?" He retorted.

“Mark me as surprised,” She said. “But flattered.”

They were both confident people...stubborn at times too. There would be no backing down from this. He chuckled, enjoying the back and forth banter. He leaned a bit closer in his chair, his smile growing wider.

"Is that so? You're not going to accuse me of being unprofessional?"

“That would make me a hypocrite. Me waltzing in here and gossiping about my coworker is unprofessional,” She leaned forward. “I consider this a flirtatious and pleasant conversation.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her words. He leaned closer as well, his voice a little lower now.

"Just a pleasant conversation, hm? You're not going to tell your other coworkers about this little chat?"

This situation was turning and it was turning fast. It had gone from casual to playful, and now they were trodding in a territory they had never ventured to before. This was different, but neither were backing down.

“Not at all, Counselor, if the thought of someone knowing bothers you so much.” She stood from her chair, eyes locked on him.

His smirk grew wider as she stood up, his eyes never leaving hers.

"It doesn't bother me at all." He assured her, rising to his feet as well. He moved around the desk, closing the distance between them. "In fact, I quite enjoy these little chats of ours."

“If we aren’t careful, we might become the precinct gossip.” She looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

He chuckled, finding the idea of being the source of gossip in the precinct strangely amusing. He took a step closer, his voice a low murmur as he spoke.

"And what if we are? Would that be such a bad thing?"

“Well, I would be getting a taste of my own medicine I suppose,” She said, realizing their noses were nearly touching. “Amongst other things.”

He let out a soft exhale, feeling his heart rate quicken at her close proximity. The air between them felt electrified.

"And those other things would be?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Whatever you suggest we do to ‘make time for each other’?” She said smoothly. “What did you have in mind?”

He chuckled, his gaze locked with hers. He reached out with a slow, tentative hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The feel of her skin under his fingers sent a shiver down his spine.

"I have plenty of ideas," he said, his voice low and filled with promise, "but we should probably discuss them somewhere more… private."

“Are you thinking private thoughts, Counselor?” She replied.

He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

"What do you think, detective?" His hand moved to her cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle line along her jawline. The proximity was intoxicating, and he couldn’t resist the urge to toy with her a bit more.

“I’m thinking a couple of drinks over dinner,” She said, her voice supple and sultry. “Dessert at my place.”

He chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire at her words. He lifted his other hand, gently cupping her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks. He leaned even closer, his lips grazing against her ear as he whispered.

"Sounds like a perfect plan."

“Don’t you want to know what you’ll be having for dessert?” She asked, her control getting close to wobbling.

His lips curled into a sinful smile, the double meaning behind her words and the shiver in her voice were all the invitation he needed. He moved even closer, his breath hot against her ear, his voice huskier than before.

"Show me, detective. I’m absolutely starving."

She smiled an awfully sultry grin, her teeth toying with her bottom lip as she whispered.

“You’re looking at it.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of restraint and desire, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He was losing control, his hands gripping her face a bit tighter now.

"Careful, detective. If you keep talking like that, I'll have you right now on this desk."

Fire was burning between them. Their minds were racing and hearts were pounding with the knowledge of where this was going. Neither cared to try and figure out how this was happening so fast. Neither of them needed to. They just knew something between them was mutual and it was coming out in full force.

He backed her into the desk, the backs of her thighs pressed against the edge of the desk. Her hands came to start working on getting his tie off, his hands planted high on her thighs underneath her skirt. Her lips brushed against his as her breathing became heavy, the two of them mere milliseconds from going at it when there was a knock on his office door and it creaked open.

Both Rafael and the detective froze, the moment shattered by the intrusion. Rafael took a moment to compose himself, his face flushing with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as he attempted to conceal the fact that they had been just seconds away from being intimate on his desk.

He cleared his throat and took a few steps back, allowing some space between them. They both were quick to readjust themselves, totally coming back to reality of what just almost happened. Her heart was hammering away in her chest, her cheeks tinted pink as she adjusted her skirt. The intruder was none other than her detective partner, Sonny Carisi, who was blissfully unaware that he was just barely seconds away from walking in on his partner and his squad's counselor going at it.

Sonny stepped into the office, his expression serious. However, he hadn’t yet noticed the tense atmosphere in the room or the telltale signs of intimacy that were still evident on Rafael and the detective’s faces. He approached Rafael, his eyes fixed on the district attorney.

"Counselor...we have an issue with one of the witnesses in the case. Can I have a word?"

She was trying to hold her composure, acting like she wasn’t just about to get down and dirty with the counselor. Rafael took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself. The interruption had cooled the heat between them a bit, but the tension in the room was still palpable. He cleared his throat and addressed Sonny, his voice slightly strained as he tried to keep it together.

"Yeah...w-what's the issue with the witness?"

She could hardly stand to be in the room anymore. She was having a hard time processing how an innocent conversation turned so hot so quickly. Rafael had never expressed that kind of feeling with her. They had never gotten that close before. Sure, they faintly flirted, but never so outright before. She was overwhelmed, and now she felt like she needed some air.

“Sonny, you finish up here,” She said, her voice a bit shaky from the adrenaline. “I’m…I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Sonny's eyes flicked between Barba and the detective, sensing that there was more going on than he was aware of. He was puzzled by her shaky voice, and something about the tension in the room felt odd, but he didn’t have time to question it. As the detective made her way out of the room, Rafael's gaze followed her, a mixture of disappointment and concern etched on his face as she left.

Rafael had never shared that kind of moment with her. To be honest, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. Sure, he liked her and favored her, but he had never made a move on her before. But in all fairness, she had never reciprocated quite like that.

Rafael couldn’t deny that the moment with her had been explosive, a spark igniting between them that he hadn’t expected. He had always liked her, but this was a whole different level of attraction. Her response to him had triggered a deep, intense desire that he couldn’t ignore. As Sonny continued to talk, Rafael struggled to focus on the conversation, his mind going back to the moment they had shared just moments before.

He just wanted to help Sonny and get him out of his office so he could handle this. But of course, Sonny always needed to know everything.

“Is…everything alright between you and her, Counselor?”

Rafael flinched, snapped out of his thoughts by Sonny's question. He blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat, trying to hide his preoccupation.

"Yeah, everything's just fine, Carisi," he said, his tone a little guarded. "Why do you ask?"

“I’ve never seen her run out like that. Especially when you’re around,” Sonny remarked.

Rafael shifted uneasily in his chair as he sat down, the observation not being lost on him. He tried to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

"I suppose she just had something to take care of. She seemed… in a hurry." He said, his words sounding unconvincing even to him.

Sonny didn’t believe him. He knew his partner, and he could tell when someone was lying. Something had happened in this office before he came in.

Rafael realized that Sonny wasn’t buying his response, and he silently cursed himself for not being more convincing. The air in the room felt heavy, and he knew he had to change the subject or risk further questioning.

"Is there anything else you needed to discuss regarding the case, Detective Carisi?" Rafael asked, trying to sound as impassive as possible.

Sonny caught the way Rafael changed the subject. He wasn’t getting anything from Rafael, so he decided to try his partner, who was downstairs waiting for him.

“No...alright…” Sonny said. “We’ll…we’ll be in touch.”

Rafael nodded, a slight look of relief on his face as Sonny seemed to accept the change in topic. As Sonny turned to leave, Rafael couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry about what might happen once he spoke to the detective.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but his mind was still buzzing from the encounter that had just taken place, and the uncertainty of what would happen next gnawed at him. Sonny wasted no time getting to the elevator, taking it to the ground floor. Sure enough, she was standing just outside on the sidewalk, her hand resting over her chest as she took slow deep breaths of the cold New York air.

She let the cold air of New York City fill her lungs, the chill helping to clear her mind. She tried to steady her rapid heartbeat, still shaken by the intensity of the moment she and Rafael had shared. The thought of what might have happened if Sonny hadn’t walked in sent a shudder down her spine. What was she thinking?

She was so distracted by her thoughts that she didn’t notice Sonny approaching until he was standing beside her.

“Sonny.” She nearly gasped, her heart lurching in surprise.

Sonny chuckled at her reaction and raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on his face.

"Whoa, easy there. You almost jumped out of your skin." he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m sorry, you scared me.” She sighed. “Are you ready to go?” She gestured toward the SVU car they had taken.

Sonny nodded, and as they headed toward the car, he shot her a sideways glance, curious about what had just transpired upstairs.

He wasn’t a detective for nothing, and he could sense that there was more to the story. Something was off, especially given her demeanor and the flushed look on her face.

She slid into the passenger seat, feeling a bit less shaky now that she had a few minutes to calm down. Her mind was still reeling, but she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out anymore.

Sonny walked around the car and got behind the wheel, his gaze flickering to her every now and then. As they started driving, he decided to go for it and ask the question that had been on his mind since he walked in on his partner and the Counselor.

"So, what was that all about? You left his office looking like you’d seen a ghost." He said.

She took a subtle deep breath, trying to center herself for a round of questioning that was no doubt coming.

“It was nothing really,” She responded as coolly as possible. “I’m just tired, I think. I just needed a second to gather myself.”

Sonny gave her a skeptical look, her response only adding to his suspicion. She was obviously trying to brush it off, but he was not convinced.

"Come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday," he said, his tone laced with mild irritation. "Something happened up there."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” She said, reaching for her phone that vibrated in her pocket.

As she checked her phone, Sonny gave her a knowing look. He could sense that she was dodging the question, and it only fueled his suspicion further.

"Oh, really? Then why won’t you look me in the eye?" he asked, his voice a bit challenging now. "Who’s sending you text messages, huh? The Counselor?”

Her heart dropped, because despite the fact that Sonny’s question was a joke — he was right. She stared at the text message that had just come in from Rafael.

A sly smile crept onto Sonny's face as he spotted the change in her expression, a clear indication that he hit a sore spot.

"Bingo," he said, his tone dripping with smugness. "That’s what I thought. What did he say?"

Sonny glanced at her, his curiosity piqued. He could tell she was reading a text message, but he couldn’t see what it said.

"So, are you planning to share that text with me, or are you just going to keep me in suspense?" he said, his voice filled with playful annoyance.

She didn't even really mean to, but she read the text out loud for herself and Sonny to hear.

Call me when you can. Please.

Sonny raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. He couldn’t help but feel a little amused by the situation.

"‘Please?’" he repeated, a hint of mockery in his voice. "Sounds like the counselor is desperate to talk to you."

Sonny had her cornered, and she knew it. There was no getting anything past Sonny, especially since they worked so closely every single day.

“Sonny..." She whined, knowing he was more on to her than she realized.

Sonny chuckled at her response, thoroughly enjoying the teasing. He knew he had her now.

"Come on," he said, feigning innocence. "Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching."

“Now I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” She huffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sonny took his eyes off the road for a moment to shoot her a sidelong glance, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Oh, please. You really think you’re discreet?" he said. "The tension between you two is so thick, a blind man could see it."

She rubbed her eyes stressfully, unsure of how to respond to Sonny, and even more unsure of how to proceed with Rafael. Seeing her stressed out, Sonny’s playful tone softened slightly. While he enjoyed teasing her, he could see that the situation was weighing on her.

"Hey, relax," he said, throwing her a gentle smile. "It’s just me, alright? You can talk to me, you know?"

“No, I can’t…” She sighed. “Not about this.”

Sonny’s smile faded slightly at her response. He could tell that whatever had happened in Rafael’s office was more serious than he initially thought. It wasn’t just some harmless flirtation between her and the district attorney. He cleared his throat and spoke with a more serious tone now.

"Why not? Come on. You and I have been friends for a long time, haven’t we? You can trust me."

“I trust you,” She said. “It’s not that, it’s just…complicated.”

Sonny furrowed his brow, his interest piqued even further. The way she said ‘complicated’ made it clear that there was more to this than he initially thought. He knew there was something she was holding back, but he wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

"Complicated, huh? In what way?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with genuine curiosity.

At this point, she knew Sonny wasn’t going to let this go. Sonny could keep a secret better than anyone, so she figured she might as well give it up. She told him the story, leaving out a few graphic details, but she told him enough for him to get the picture.

Sonny listened intently as she spoke, his expression stoic as he absorbed the details of what had transpired between her and Rafael. He didn’t say a word as she recounted the encounter, his gaze steady on the road ahead of them.

When she finished her story, he was silent for a moment, considering everything that had been said. Then, he spoke up, keeping his voice neutral.

"So, let me get this straight. You and the Counselor got hot and heavy in his office, but things got interrupted, and now you don’t know what to do next?"

“That about sums it up,” She sighed again. “If we had gone all the way…I don’t even know. I don’t know where to go from here and I don’t know if I can ever work with him again…”

Sonny exhaled softly, his jaw tensing slightly. He hadn’t been expecting it to be that serious. He could sense the internal struggle she was having and understood her confusion. He knew it wasn’t easy, juggling personal feelings and professional responsibilities.

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on," he said, trying to get a grip on the situation. "First of all, it didn’t go that far. Nothing…happened, right?"

“It was close,” She admitted. “But no. Sonny, Olivia will kill me if she finds out. She would flip if she found out I got cozy with the counselor…”

Sonny nodded slowly, processing her words. The fact that she was worried about Olivia’s reaction spoke volumes about how seriously she was taking this. He respected her devotion to the job, and he knew how highly her superiors thought of her.

"Okay, first of all, Olivia’s not going to ‘kill’ you. Besides, this isn’t exactly the first time a relationship has happened between coworkers."

“Yeah, but it’s different. It’s…me. You know how she is with me. I’m the youngest on the squad,” She took a deep breath. “If she knew Rafael made a move on me…”

Sonny could see the weight of the situation pressing heavily on her. He understood her concerns.

"I get that you don’t want to disappoint her," he said in a reassuring tone. "The thing is, this whole thing with Barba…you didn’t exactly pursue him, right? He’s the one who made a move. And as far as I can tell, it sounds like it was completely out of the blue for you."

“It…wasn’t really out of the blue,” She confessed. “I mean, I didn’t go in there expecting what happened but…like you said we’re pretty…flirtatious. And I didn’t push him away.”

Sonny chuckled slightly at her confirmation that she hadn’t exactly shut down whatever had been going on between her and the Counselor. He knew they’d had a spark.

“So, let me get this straight: you and Barba have been flirty with each other for a while, and eventually, things got heated in his office. Is that about right?”

Sonny nodded when she confirmed it, the situation starting to make more sense to him now.

"And now you don’t know what to do because you’re worried about your job, your relationship with Olivia, and whatever might happen next with Barba?”

“Right,” She replied. “It happened so fast…I don’t know how I got here.”

Sonny chuckled softly as he listened to her concerns.

"You got here, because you and Barba have chemistry," he said bluntly. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

“I don’t know what to do about it,” She read the text from Barba again. “How do you even move forward from something like this?”

Sonny shot her a sympathetic glance, understanding her anxiety.

"Hey, it sounds like you’re feeling a bit out of your comfort zone here, and that’s alright." He said reassuringly. "You’re usually more reserved, and this situation’s a bit more intense than you’re used to. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It could mean that something about Barba really does it for you."

“Yeah, I could’ve told you that. I guess I need to respond,” She stared at her phone. "He wants me to call him later. So he will probably reject me and tell me it was a mistake and it never should’ve happened and then things will be awkward and then I’ll have to leave SVU and then I’m back to making traffic stops-“

Sonny reached over and grabbed her arm firmly, stopping her mid-rant. He chuckled slightly at her panicked ramblings.

"Slow down there," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Take a deep breath. You're getting way ahead of yourself."

“Maybe…” A smile appeared on her face without realizing it. “I’ll just…tell him I’ll call him when I can.”

Sonny chuckled along with her, enjoying the lighter tone of the conversation. He was glad to see that his teasing had lifted her spirits, at least a little bit.

"Hey, you never know," He said with a shrug and a smirk. "Stranger things have happened. Maybe Barba’s completely smitten with you and can’t wait to see you again."

“Alright, alright…” She replied. “One step at a time. Let’s finish this workday.”

Sonny chuckled at her response, sensing her determination to get through the last couple hours of their long workday and not let the situation with Barba consume her. He nodded in agreement.

"You got it," he said, his tone back to business. "I've got your back, no matter what happens next."

___

They returned to the precinct, tying up their loose ends for the day so they could get the day finished. She tried to put Rafael in the back of her mind. She just needed to get through her shift and then go from there. She hoped she would feel better once she and Rafael talked, no matter what the outcome was.

Sonny shot a few glances at her, sensing her attempt to keep her mind off the situation with the Counselor. He knew she was struggling to focus on work when her mind was preoccupied.

As the day came to an end, Sonny casually looked down at his watch and spoke up.

"You know, we're just about done for the day. You…uh…have plans for the rest of the night?"

She gave him a look.

“I’m going to call him as soon as I leave,” She said. “If he’s still at his office, I might swing by.”

Sonny gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

"You're gonna handle this, one way or another." he said, his voice firm and steady.

“Okay,” She nodded. “I’ll text you when it’s over.”

Sonny waved her goodbye, and she didn't waste any time getting out of the precinct. She dialed Rafael's number on the way out of the building.

The phone rang a few times before the familiar voice of Rafael Barba answered on the other end.

“Hey.” His tone was calm and composed.

“Counselor.” She greeted as calmly as she could.

There was a hint of surprise and relief in Rafael's voice as he recognized her on the other end of the line. He had been hoping she would call.

"I wasn’t sure if you’d call." He said plainly.

“Of course I did,” She let out a silent sigh. “Are you…still at your office?”

There was a slight pause before Rafael responded, the anticipation heavy in his voice.

"Yes," he replied. "Do you…want to come by?"

Her heart fluttered, there really was no turning back.

“Yeah, I figured I would come by so…we could talk. I can be there in 20 minutes…”

They sorted out the details before the call ended, and she knew this was going to either be a pleasant or brutal talk. She knew she might be losing one of her best friends by the end of the night. She had never felt more unsure, but she couldn't even deny that maybe she was curious to see how this developed...if it developed at all.

Her mind raced as she made her way to Rafael's office. She thought of every possible outcome in this scenario...the best case, the worst case, and everything in between. She felt the knot of anxiety in her stomach getting heavier by the minute. She laid eyes on her destination and knew it was now or ever. She needed to compose herself and pull it together. She wanted to walk out of this situation with him still an important part of her life.

The building was closed down for the night, all the offices dark and closed...except for his. It was now or never. If there was ever a moment where she felt like she was about to seal her fate...it was right now.

She took the elevator to the floor of his office, her brain actively controlling her breathing to be as calm and slow as possible. Her heart was pounding away, and she wasn't sure if it was the nerves or the knowledge of seeing him again after what had happened.

His office door was closed, but a glow of light was shining from behind the closed blinds on his windows and under the door. She gave a light knock on the door, a slow exhale escaping her as she waited for him to answer.

She heard some shuffling from behind the door, knowing he was undoubtedly trying to quickly straighten up his desk before he allowed her inside. A few seconds passed before he opened the door -- his tired eyes meeting hers with the same look of anxiety and curiosity of what was about to happen. There was no turning back now, and they both felt like they were prepared.

But little did they know, their night was about to get far more interesting than they planned for.

—

Part 2 !

[thecoochiefairy]

━━ 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑒 .ᐟ toji + suguru.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 17.3K word count. hockey player! toji, hockey player! suguru + toji third person omniscient pov, black woman, threesome, double penetration, vaginal penetration, angry sex, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading, condomless sex, kissing, cream pie, spanking, aggressive toji, aggressive suguru, lil bit of sweet toji, a lil bit of sweet suguru, violence between two men, jealously, butt stuff hehe, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑖 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 ; 𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑒𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ let’s cut to the chase. y’all know i got two baby daddy’s, i had to! love y’all. enjoy. 🫶🏽

SWEETIE, that was her name. Well, that’s what they called her anyways. She was—sweet. From the bone straight smile she carried, cat-like eyes flickering beneath dark lashes, glaring as if she was always trying to entice the audience. Her pom-pom’s clasped under her fingers as she shook them around, swinging her hips, rosey pink hair flowing as her body moved to the beat of the family friendly songs they played along the arena. But no matter how hard she danced—or how effortless she made it look—fans were always going to pay more attention to what they came for—the hockey game. 

High cholesterol snacks being thrown into the mouths of aggressive sports junkies as equally aggressive players sped along the ice, crushing into one another as they competed in their game. It was a rush to even be in the atmosphere, never knowing what to expect before the night ended. Being a professional Ice Girl had its perks. Traveling from city to city, dancing in places she never thought she’d be able to see as a child. Here she was, living her dream while doing something she loved. Sometimes it could be annoying. If it wasn’t having to constantly repeat the same eight count, it was sweating beneath the lights shining against the bleachers, to freezing cold in her tightly fitted uniform as she had to scrape the ice for the players safety. 

Her eyes scanned the numerous men inside the cubicle— it’s almost comparable to a shark tank— searching for a familiar face. Maybe she was searching for one, maybe she was searching for both. 

She could imagine him without his helmet as he squatted down next to his partner, nudging to get his attention. Midnight hair, piercing gray eyes, tall and broad muscular build. Ink danced all over his body beneath his black and white jersey, FUSHIGURO plastered along the back and front. His scarred lip wafted with his intimidating persona, being the troublemaker of the two—always getting into physical fights more than anyone on the team. Then there was the good to his bad cop—good by default, anyway—equally dark hair that fell past his shoulders, usually up in a bun or half-bun if it wasn’t under his helmet. Those damn hazel eyes. Tattoos scathed his body, eyebrow and lip piercing shining beneath the lights of the dome, GETOU printed in alabaster. He was the mouthpiece, talking shit from earth to hell, never keeping his opinions to himself. She knew both of them in more ways than one. 

Despite their infamous reputations, they were…opposites. You’d expect their roles to be reversed. Toji was surprisingly sweet—unless he was within a game—while Suguru could be sweet. If only she’d known that her own antics would twist the three of them into issues she couldn’t take back, maybe she wouldn’t have entertained their attraction to her. Then again, maybe none of that mattered. 

It was a regular night for them, the Ice Girls dancing behind the wall of the rink, cheering with the rest of the crowd. It was now one of their final intermissions, the team having fifteen minutes to strategize their plays, the girls also taking a break from their routine. Unfortunately their work was never done. The women placed themselves into a line, preparing to clear shavings from the ground for the teams to safely return to the game. 

She held her broom towards her chest, taking a deep breath before she hopped onto the ice, pushing her body as quickly as the men did, swaying her hips to get a good weight along her feet. 

Her eyes briefly caught those gray one’s. His vision scans the short-shorts that cling to her round hips and ass, desperately wanting to rip through the fabric if they could. The long sleeve she wears is snug, matching the black and white jerseys that the men wear, having their own individual nicknames on the back. Her pink curls complimented her toffee skin beautifully. Hair in a half-up half down style, matching bow pinched against her ponytail, freckles and dark lashes sprucing beneath the lights. She almost looked innocent—if only she was, he thought. 

Neither of the men were subtle, even if they thought they were. They both watched in unison as she pushed her body around the ice, the little twist in her hips and sway in her body didn’t go unnoticed as the two stood in the tunnel of the court. 

Maybe she wanted to smile. But instead, she added another twist in her hips as she continued to skate. When she arrived back up to the boards of the rink where the men stood in preparation to step back down, she was met with another pair of eyes—hazel, softer than gray— moving quickly, not wanting to become distracted by him. His helmet is off, head dipped down as he quickly pulls his long hair into a bun behind his strident features, dark eyebrows furrowed as he focused in on her. Mission failed.

 As she pushed herself up the step, she felt fingers brush along her hip as his deep voice asked, “You’ got it?”

“I got it,” she tells him, nearly rolling her eyes in reply. Although something in her wanted to squeal like a girl with a crush, she suppressed the stupid grin that wanted to go along her face, moving his hand away as she carried herself back towards the group’s dancing spot. 

Her friend and teammate, Bubbles, watched all of this happen. She waited until they got back into their standing positions, then leaning over as she confronted, “I saw that.” 

Sweetie’s eyes followed over to her friend, bringing them back to the crowd as she asked, “Saw what?”

“The way that the both of them can’t take their eyes off of you,” Bubbles replied. 

Sweetie shrugged, a small grin on her face as she said, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.” her friend countered, chocolate brown skin glowing beneath the lights as she raised a dark brow.

How could she not notice them? Of course she did. Toji’s eyes were always locked on her ass, and Suguru's were focused on her face, watching her lips.

“Bullshit to you,” she shrugs, “Besides, I’d rather watch them instead. Don’t you just love athletic men?” She hums, leaning against the glass by her elbows, watching as they all hop back onto the ice effortlessly.

Bubbles sighs, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks out at the game. She knew her friend entertained both men, impressed that she knew how to maneuver through two different personalities off the ice, and that all three of them hadn’t killed each other yet. It was almost a full time job. 

Her friend rolled her eyes, a playful smirk on her face as she responded. “I love sporty men, but most of them are just assholes. Literally, they’d have a long stick up their ass if they could,” she moved her eyes back to Sweetie, “I don’t know how you deal with that.” 

“By fucking them good enough to where they have so much dopamine in their system, they don’t have a reason to ever be mad.” 

Bubbles shook her head, chuckling in response, “You’re terrible.”

The game continued as usual. The girls were now back to their routine, fluttering their pom-pom’s around skillfully. At the same time, the crowd began to notice as a player on the other team jabs the shaft of his stick towards Toji, cursing out at him angrily. Wrong move.

 Everyone watches as Suguru swipes his feet closer to his teammate who immediately becomes angry, placing his arm in front of him to stop him from attacking the opponent. The crowd cheered as this was usually expected at these games, fights not a crime within the sport of hockey. 

“Oh god, here this nigga goes,” her teammate mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. 

This was unfortunately a usual thing. Toji getting mad, and Suguru having to stop him from being benched. Even if the crowd enjoyed acts of violence, it wasn’t an overall good look that the same player was known to crash out each time someone pissed him off. With him and Suguru being close, he was usually the one to pull him away from stupid scenarios—unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those times. 

Just as they thought that he had calmed down, Toji quickly turns as he effortlessly raises his leg, the slice of his blade crushing into the man’s chest, his body dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. 

Screams of both people and players echoed through the arena, the players on the ice immediately stopping their actions as their eyes all fixated on the scene unraveling in front of them. Some of them immediately rushed to help their teammate, others stood and watched in utter shock. 

“OFF THE GODDAMN ICE, FUSHIGURO!” his coach angrily shouted, throwing the clipboard within his hand. 

The referee’s immediately dragged Toji off of the ice who lashed out curses. Suguru was now equally pissed as he shouted, “That’s bullshit! This fuckin’ idiot started it!” referring to the player still laying on the ground trying to catch his breath, his teammates trying to help him up as he nearly passed out from the loss of oxygen.

As the ref tried to talk Suguru into returning to the game, he smacked his lips as he shouted, “Fuck you! Learn how to call a fuckin’ foul!” 

Sweetie could do nothing but let out a sigh as she crossed her arms over her chest, seeing as the two problem twins worked their magic once again.

The players all stood along the sides, shaking their heads at the situation that always occurred at least once every week. The player on the ground clutched their chest, pain seeping through their body. The ref’s attempted to hold Toji back as he tried to lunge over the edge of the barrier. 

“That’s it!’ the ref’s shouted. “You’re both gettin’ a game suspension!’ 

They should’ve expected this.

“Shit,” she mutters, “This is messy as hell.”

“Sweetie and Bubbles! Are you here to watch the drama,  or entertain the crowd?!”

Their own coach catches their attention. Sweetie turns her head as she shouts back, “Sorry, coach!” Both women grabbing for their pom-pom’s. 

“Say sorry while you both clean the ice off tonight—by yourselves!”

Both women's mouths dropped open. Sweetie standing up as she frowned, “C’mon, coach!—“

The rest of the girls snickered in the background, overhearing as their coach announced their punishment. They knew they weren’t supposed to be nose deep in the drama, the usual resolution being to lead the crowd in a chant as distraction. Their coach was harsh enough whenever something happened, never letting things go without punishment. 

“And I don’t wanna see a bad job, or that’ll be a week's worth of extra workouts, you got that?!” 

The girls both nodded their heads, replying in unison, “Yes, coach!”

The game picked back up to a more calming finish, their team winning and ending the night off successfully. 

Both Sweetie and Bubbles were now in an empty arena, teams grabbing their belongings and exiting the building, leaving the rink quiet as their skates slid around the ice. 

Sweetie mutters, “This is bullshit. Everybody watches fights when they happen!”

She wasn’t wrong, it was bullshit. Fights happened, people loved the drama, and yet they happened to be the only ones punished for it. Even a few parents and children let out laughs from their seats. 

Bubbles agreed alongside her, “I know, right? It’s not our fault that Fushiguro and Getou wanna fight every game.”

“Well, technically Suguru was trying to stop him—more so guilty by association,” she shrugs, sweeping the access water along the ground. 

“Taking up for your man, hm?” Bubbles teases. 

“Shut up,” she chuckles. 

Silence goes in between them for a moment, Sweetie bringing her eyes up as she feels her friend wanting to ask another question. She could just tell. 

“Yes, Bubbles? Please ask before you explode.”

“Sorry, I just—uh…so…do they like….know?” 

Sweetie picks her face up with a frown, “Know what?”

Bubbles gave her a deadpan look, raising a brow towards her and responding, “ The fact that you’re fucking the both of them.”

“Yeah?” She tilts her head, “Why?”

Her friend shrugs, “Don’t you think that’ll be a pain in the ass if one of them starts liking you?”

“It’s a good thing they don’t. When I asked Toji if it was a problem, he said he was a grown ass man that could handle the situation, and Suguru doesn’t do relationships so—it’s fine.”

“Right, because a grown man always says what he means,” Bubbles replies, rolling her eyes, “They’re dudes, Sweetie. They don’t say shit they actually mean.”

“Well I don’t know, Bubbles, I’ll just have to live in my delusions?  I like fucking both of them, and until it becomes a problem, let’s not hope for the worst, shall we? I don’t think I wanna see Toji ninja kick Suguru’s pretty face.”

“Oh god— he do got a good ass leg on him. It’s like the motherfucker did ballet or something. Sounds terrifying. Suguru’s too pretty,” she agrees, “This is ghetto. Why couldn’t you just stick to one?”

“Because where’s the fun in that? Why not have one, when you can have all?” she winks, her friend then sighing with a laugh, “You’ really are terrible.”

“Yeah yeah, but you love me, don’t you?”

Sweetie drops her broom, playfully grabbing Bubbles by the wrists as she begins spinning the both of them atop the ice. They both laugh like children, playing around when they should’ve been cleaning. They could pay the price later. 

Another thirty minutes pass as they finally get back to cleaning. As they finish up, the sound of the locker room opens, heavy feet booming along the ground. She can feel the tension along him, scarred lip twitching as he walks, deadpan face as he heads for the exit door of the building. Onyx hoodie pulled over his head, Nike sweats paired at the bottom as he looks more comfortable, but seemingly still upset from what happened earlier. 

Bubbles says, “I’m heading out, you coming?”

Sweetie looks back to the footsteps still echoing beneath the bleachers. She mindlessly replies, “Uh…I’ll meet you back in your room, yeah?”

Bubbles looks back to where she sees Toji walking, putting the math together that she didn’t need to be apart of this conversation. Taking this as her exit opportunity, she shrugs, “Have fun with Satan’s spawn. Deuces!” 

She begins swaying to the opposite side towards the girls locker room, picking herself up to pass the bleachers. Sweetie turns her attention back towards Toji who continues to walk, calling out to him as she greets, “Hey, Hothead.”

A dark brow raises as the nickname echoes through the empty dome, stopping in his tracks as his face turns towards her voice. His eyes scan her up and down as he comes to a stop at the side of the barriers, grabbing onto the top of it with both hands while he responds to her, “Hey, Bubblegum.”

“Bubblegum?” she scans him up and down, “Cute. I’d assume you’d still be pissed off from being benched.”

Toji grunts in response, the scowl still on face while he remains leaning over the side. “I am. Should’ve put my blades in his fuckin’ mouth.”

“Did you get suspended from the next game?” 

“A couple days,” he replies, his gray eyes focusing back on her as he continues, “And I gotta go to bullshit therapy.” 

She laughs softly, “Awe, such a crybaby you are. Don’t wanna talk about your feelings?”

Toji’s scowl remained on his face as he scanned her up and down, “You gonna clean the ice or just stare at me?”

She tilts her head, ignoring the deflection within his response. She then says, “Mmm, nah. Was wondering if you wanted to come play with me for a bit, let off some steam.” 

He shakes his head, “I’m good. Last thing I wanna be on is that ice.”  

“Good thing I wasn’t talking about hockey then.”

The look on her face is innocent, but her eyes tell another thing. They’re dark, blinking at him in an enticing manner. Those damn eyes. 

The shift in the conversation wasn’t something he expected, but as her beauty sunk into him, he wasn’t opposed to her offer. 

He raises an eyebrow with a chuckle, shaking his head as he says, “Neither was I.” 

Another usual routine of theirs. The aggression that he held within the game always seemed to fall back on her. But, she wasn’t complaining. They went from staring at each other, to her forehead now pressing against his, Sweetie hovered atop of him as her hips rotated from above, his rough hands clawing against her back, sending a gasp stumbling from her throat. He grunted as his eyes looked up to meet hers, a dark smirk on his lips.

This was Toji’s way of handling his emotions. He preferred this type of therapy instead of talking out his feelings. 

His hands moved against her body, now finding their way to her waist as he guided her above him, watching as her hips rocked and moved. A low groan escaped his lips as his eyes continued to scan over her body, wanting to touch more, touch all. 

“Wanted to play with me, huh?” He muttered, a smirk still on his face.

He could be arrogant—she knew that. Being as needy as she was when it came to him, it was a vulnerability she couldn’t stand to show. She hides her face within his shoulder. Her grip is deadly amongst the back of his hair, a whimper releasing from her lips as she softly cries against him, trying to move her hips as her own sense of control, losing it each time his strength overpowered.

His grip continued to tighten on her hips as he let out a low, “Fuck,”, his smirk only growing as he felt her struggling against him. He was enjoying watching the control he gained, his strength always winning.

 “Always so fuckin’ sensitive,” he smacks his lips at her attempts to hide herself, gripping her wrist that withheld his hair. He twists their fingers into intertwining themselves as he begins thrusting his hips sharply upwards, other hand firing a spank to her ass, gripping the flesh in his hold as he picks up speed. 

She wraps her free arm around his neck, clawing at his back as he rotated her hips, dropping her down against his dick, causing her eyes roll to the back of her head as she whines, “Oh, fuck.” 

His smirk only grew even larger as her walls tightened, a low growl escaping his lips at the very enjoyable feeling of her nails clawing at the skin of his back.

 “Look at you—“ His hands once again gripped at her hips as they rocked back against him, pulling her down as he grunted in response, “Takin’ my dick just right.”

She pulls her face up to meet his, a shy but sultry laugh falling from her lips at that. Her eyes never fully made contact with his. She pushes him farther back onto the bed, pressing her hands along his chest as she grinds against him, face tilting up to the sky as she feels him grunt, gripping onto her skin as he does so.

“Look so fuckin’ pretty,” Toji groaned.

Even if she couldn't admit it, she tried to be more vocal for him—he loved that. She drags her hand up to reach his jaw as she leans forward, lips hovered above his as she teased, “Yeah?” Breathing along his face as she begs quietly, “Say it again, please.”

Her lips were only a few inches from his own, the feeling of each breath making his chest rise even more. He released another low chuckle as she begged for him. 

“You look so fuckin’ good on top of me, pretty,” he repeated. “Like you were made to be here, riding my dick.”

His tone of voice made her lose her sense of control once again.  A flush came to her face as she leaned herself farther into him, lips right against his ear as his hands grip her skin beneath the sheets. His palms tighten around her lower back, holding onto her as he raises her body, bouncing her along his lap. The sound of their skin sticking and releasing one another’s, echoing against the room, makes her drag out a moan, holding onto him as she whimpers, “Agh, I—I’m close…” 

“Fuck that. You can take more.”

She shakes her head, feeling him now grasp her hair into his palms, tugging at it harshly, holding her in one place as his hips begin sharply snapping upwards. She could only tremble above him, attempting to reach back to slow his movements, his free hand latching onto her arm, snapping it behind her back.

His eyes watched as she looked down at him, her expression being one full of sensitivity. Toji could feel her body beginning to shake in his hands, trying to slow him down as much as possible, but that wasn’t going to happen, not here. 

“Uh uh,” he clicked his tongue, “Don’t cry now, you wanted this,” he muttered, his hand clutching her body tighter.

She shudders, entire body shaking as if she’d been tased, his palms holding onto her as she sobs out a moan, dropping her hips down as her lower body explodes in pleasurable raptures. He grips her face as he kisses her, swallowing her whimpers as her body relaxes above him.

He continued to hold her in place as her body shook against him, his kisses muffling her sounds. He savored every reaction that came from her as he finally let go of her arm, allowing her to move freely. Slowly, Toji’s other hand released itself from her hip, Sweetie jumping as he spanked her in reward, caressing the side of her face, his lips finally leaving hers as he spoke, “You did good, baby. Real good.”

She leans her head on his shoulder as she tries to catch her breath, hiding her face within his skin as a warmth appears on her cheeks again. He pulls her face up to his, gripping her in a kiss, her mouth whining softly at his roughness.

The warm feeling of her body against his was something he adored. He didn’t get to feel this way with anybody else. 

He pulled her in for another kiss as she hid her face, Toji eventually pulling away as he darkly chuckled, “You’re cute.” 

A silence went between the two, comforting in its own way. His hand continued to rest on the side of her cheek, caressing along her skin as he commented,  “You’re too…pretty like this. You know that, right?”

Oh. 

His voice…admitting that to her, made something in her body feel as if she was smacked into reality. This always happens. He became sentimental, and it scared her a bit. She tried to lean upward, Toji catching her throat within his hands as he tugged her towards his face again, saying along her mouth, “Come shower with me. I’ll fuck you again.”

That makes her giggle softly, “I have to go.”

Toji’s grip on her throat grew slightly tighter as she tried to pull away from him. He never let her go when she felt the need to pull away, instead always pulling her right back to him. 

He smirked as she giggled, his lips close to hers as he responded back, “Nah, you don’t.”

“I do. We both have practice tomorrow morning, Fushiguro,” she calls him by his last name, reminding him of more important things than another round of sex.

He grunted as his grip on her throat finally relaxed, watching as she began climbing off of him. There was a slight frown etched on his face as he sat up, “You’ running away from me?”

She searched for her clothes, too in a rush to actually look for them. She then snatched up the hoodie he was wearing earlier, pulling that over her head as she looked back at him, “Suguru texted me earlier. I forgot. I gotta give him his room key back, I haven’t seen him since the game.”

The mention of his friend wasn’t something that usually irritated him. But when she says that, it suddenly does. When she doesn’t hear a response, she looks up, noticing the look along his face, something she’d never seen before. 

She raises an eyebrow, “What’s the face for?”

He huffed in response, “Nothing,” with a low tone, his voice showing that he was clearly becoming pissed off.

He watches her pull shorts over her legs, thinking over his next set of words. If only he’d hesitated a little more. 

“So what—you’re gonna fuck me, leave and then go fuck him, right?”

Sweetie halts. A deep frown coming to her face as she looks back up at him. 

“Why are you doing this right now? Do you think I’d go fuck him right after fucking you, Toji?”

The jealousy within him had fully taken over at this point, and he no longer cared how he treated her. His eyes continued to glare at her as he spoke, “You’ve done it before. What’s so different now?”

He knew exactly what he was doing as the words continued to slip out of his mouth. His arms were now crossed over his chest as he sat along the bed, watching her get dressed.

She blinks, “Even if I did—which I would never—I’d have enough respect not to play in your face about it. Why do you care? What happened to you being a grown ass man that didn’t care about what I was doing when I’m not with you?” 

He scans her body, no emotions returning along his expression before he agrees, “I don’t. Get the fuck out.”

She’s taken back by his words. It makes a laugh of utter shock come out as she raises an eyebrow, “You’re serious? You can’t be.”

“I am. Get the fuck out,” he repeats back dryly, not a single hint of humor in his voice as his words were harsh. 

He continued to watch as she stood there looking dumbfounded, clearly not expecting him to actually tell her to leave in such a manner. He knew he was being a prick. He didn’t care. 

She was a sweetie, until she wasn’t. His sweetie, until she wasn’t. Her anger gets to her first. She picks up the pillow that had dropped off the bed, using all her strength as she chucked it at him with a snarled, “Sleep off whatever bullshit you’re dealing with,” yanking the front door open as she lowly insulted, “Fuckin’ stupid ass nigga,” as she slammed the door behind herself.

He watched as she threw the pillow at him, catching it within his own hands before he tossed it to the side, “Yeah, whatever,” to her last words. 

The sound of the door slamming echoed throughout the room, Toji grunting at the sound. He runs his hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh as he laid back on the bed. He’d probably feel bad later on. 

Her thoughts flurry through her mind as she takes the elevator up to the third floor of the hotel, making her way down the hall as she pulls the key out of her bag. Maybe she felt a little bad. But it’s not like she was trying to rub anything in Toji’s face, purposely trying to make him jealous. She knew he could be the possessive type, wanting things his way. She just didn’t know she factored into that. 

Suguru was probably asleep by now. She planned to leave the key on the nightstand as she trudged farther down the hotel’s hallway. The annoyance from the argument between her and Toji kept resurfacing even as she tried to push it down, wondering what suddenly made him shift.

 She thought about her friend's words. What if one of them did catch feelings? 

That was gonna make shit extremely complicated. 

She waited until the door’s red light went green, quietly opening the door to a pitch black room. She could hear the mini fan buzzing in the corner, figuring he’d fallen asleep a while ago. In and out. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair as she placed the key card along the nightstand. 

As she turned back towards the door, she felt arms suddenly clasp around her hips, the unexpected feeling making a scream release from her lips, one of the hands covering her mouth as the other lifted her legs into their chest, bridal style. 

Her heart nearly knocked out of her chest as the lights came on, Suguru’s half-naked body hovering above her as he chuckled deeply, ignoring the swats she gave his arm as he threw her down along the bed. 

“Fuckin’ dick! Why would you do that?!”

She continues to shout at him, going to push herself up when he locks her arms beneath his larger ones. 

Suguru laughed at her reaction, her swats only making the grin that was plastered on his lips widen. He had expected her to come in at some point, but he didn’t know it would be so soon. 

He took a moment to admire her appearance as he slowly climbed above her, “You’ look aggravated, I had to fuck with you.”

She sighs, watching as he climbs above her, “I am. Why are you still awake?”

He continued to hover above her, eyes scanning over her face. He smirked as he responded, his voice low and deep, “Couldn’t fall asleep. Been thinking about you.” 

Suguru brought his face closer to hers, his hands now resting on either side of her head. “You look good as fuck right now.”

She sighs, “Thanks,” the word coming softly from her lips. 

For once, a frown comes to his face, feeling her energy off. He wasn’t the one to ask too many questions.

Suguru slowly leaned himself forward, “Your big ass head is filled with too many thoughts right now.”

“Oh? Let me shut my brain off then,” she rolls her eyes, “I’m…fine. Fushiguro pissed me off.”

He smirked at her words, leaning himself down, now hovering too close to her mouth, “Don’t worry, Imma’ take your mind off of it.” 

Suguru slowly began to move himself down, bringing his lips near her neck as he muttered, “I’m less of a headache anyways.”

“Ha-ha,” she drops her eyes down to him, “Cute. He said some mean things, I’m just irritated about it.”

She wasn’t expecting Suguru to play therapist, he wasn’t the type to ask too many details nor care about anyone’s feelings—he barely cared about his own. But she couldn’t help but ramble off at the mouth.

His lips traveled along her skin, moving further down her throat as he spoke, a small chuckle leaving his mouth, “Yeah? Y’all both act like fuckin’ children, always arguing over some stupid shit,” he muttered against her skin, “I think you’ll survive.”

“He thinks I came here to fuck you after fucking him,” she continues on, almost ignoring his lips along her neck, trying not to become annoyed with his deflection of the conversation.

Suguru lifted his head to look at her, his eyes meeting hers as he questioned, “You didn’t?”

Her eyebrows deepen, her elbows along the bed as she sits halfway up, “No? I came to give you your key-card back like you asked. Why would I do that? Who do y’all think I am?”

He chuckled at the look on her face, clearly seeing the offense in her expression. The tone of her voice only made him laugh a bit more. 

Suguru shook his head slightly, leaning himself back down, “I’m just fuckin’ with you,” his lips returning to her skin once again, “You need to relax, baby.”

She watches his lips travel down her stomach, kissing along the skin as she exhales, “I’m serious. I’m not just some hoe that wants to fuck on the both of you.” 

“I never said that. Dumbass probably has a crush,” Suguru suggests, tongue dragging along the skin of her hip. 

“And you don’t?” She raises an eyebrow.

He raises an eyebrow in response to her question, “I don’t get those.”

She wasn’t sure why something in her chest shifted at his response. Maybe she liked the idea of two men crushing on her, but she knew Suguru wasn’t the emotional type. She would’ve never expected Toji to be one of his feelings, but maybe she was wrong about a lot of things. 

She looks over his face, lip and eyebrow piercing shining beneath the lights, a handsome expression almost devilish to her. 

She then shifted her body beneath him, watching as his lips trailed farther down her abdomen with a quiet sigh, “That’s too bad.”

He chuckled as she spoke, lifting his head to look her in the eye, “Yeah? Why’s that?” 

He began moving himself further down her body, his lips now close to her thighs, “Are you disappointed?”

She subconsciously lifted her hips as he removed her shorts, his mouth now pecking along her inner thighs, the rush bringing a small chill up her spine.

 Her breath hitches before she replies softly, “…No.”

Suguru dropped his face down, his fingers digging into the back of her thighs as he pushed her knees into the comforter beneath them. His warm breath tickles her core that glistens beneath the lowlights of the room. 

“You’ sure?” 

She leans herself against her elbows again, watching as he pushes her legs back farther, her knees on the sides of her as she shudders, “Suguru—“ 

His mouth is against her clit, dreadfully suckling it in between his lips. Her chest pangs, her heart pounding along her skin as his hands tightly trap her along the bed.

Her head feels like it’s spinning as she gasps, abdomen trembling as she says, “D—Didn’t come here to fu…oh.” 

“Pull my hair out of the way. You know how to do it.”

She immediately obliged. Her fingers trembled as she pulled his hair out of his face, watching as his tongue dragged along the entirety of her, a grunt pulling from his mouth at the taste. 

His hand gripped her thigh, his mouth stopping as he waited for a response. “Why are you here then?”

She should’ve held on just a bit longer—but she couldn’t help herself. She tugs at his hair, digging her teeth into her lip as she whimpers, “Needed you.”

His tongue continued to flick against her, raising his arm as he used it to trap her legs under him, watching as she clung to the bed. He chuckled as he heard her words, “That’s exactly what I thought.” 

His mouth is demonic, the way he speaks—the way he eats. The slurping sound his lips create as he gives her core a deep kiss, he twists his head from side to side, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. 

Suguru began to move his tongue a little faster as he then commanded, “Beg me to fuck you.”

Her eyes roll to the back of her head, “Stop it,” gripping his hair tighter, her legs somehow spreading wider.

His mouth was relentless, not letting up despite her pleas. His tongue flicked against her clit, teasing her before sliding down to her entrance where he gave her a long, slow lick. Suguru could feel her grip tighten in his hair, her legs spreading even further apart.

He kept his pace chaotic, his tongue swirling around her sensitive clit, dragging it up and down, tracing his mouth everywhere but her opening. 

He grunts, “‘Should tongue fuck you, but I know what you want more.”

She continues clutching his hair in between her fingers, desperately trying to close her legs. Yet, she can’t help but watch. She glances all over the beauty of him, dark gauges within his ears, the coolness of his lip piercing connecting with her flesh, dark brows furrowed as he focuses on her. She wants to drown in his sight.

His tongue continued its assault on her clit, making sure to pay extra attention to every twitch and spasm it caused. He lifted one of his hands, bringing it down hard on her thigh, leaving behind a red handprint. “I know you fuckin’ heard me, beg.”

She gasps at the spank he gives her. Her eyes fluttering shut, swallowing down the embarrassment she feels as she says softly, “I want you to…fuck me,” shying away the moment the words release from her mouth. 

A smirk made its way onto his face at her tone. He sat up to now hover above her, their faces so close to one another that he could hear the small whimpers that left her lips. He swirled his tongue into her mouth to kiss her. Her eyes shut at that, consuming the taste of herself. Suguru then took a grasp of her wrist, raising her hand as he pressed it above her head, bringing his other hand to grip above at the banister. 

Her hips jump at the feeling of his tip grazing her clit, sliding down to her opening. She felt like she was underwater—holding her breath in as he slowly pushed himself into her, his voice almost in a mocking manner as he muttered, “Talk to me. Where’s all that fuckin’ mouth you have?”

He was mean, giving her no time to respond, instead choosing to thrust his hips, burying himself inside of her completely. He groaned deeply, feeling how tight she was wrapped around him.

“Suguru,” she whines out, his mouth above her own, her gasp being inhaled by his dark chuckles each time their hips connect, the banister beginning to screech along the wall. 

His lips began to move from her ear down to her neck, gently trailing kisses against the skin. The sound of the bed banging against the wall was now echoing throughout the room as he continued to move his hips, “Ooh, fuck, baby. Say my name like that again. I love that shit.” 

It was like her brain was melting , her eyes nearly in the back of her head as she dumbly admitted in a broken moan, “I came here to fuck you, baby,” crying softly as she gripped him by his back, pulling him closer to her as she panted out, “Don’t stop…”

Suguru lifted himself away from her neck, bringing his face back up to look down at her, “Was that so hard to admit, huh?” gripping her by her throat, placing his thumb into her mouth, watching as she whimpered at that, sucking at his finger. 

“Shut up,” her eyes close, “Just fuck me. Fuck me, baby. Fuck me.” 

“That’s more like it,” he muttered, beginning to roughly move his hips as her mouth opened in response. His hand continued to hold her own arms in place, “You’re so pretty.”

Suguru chuckled as her legs wrapped around him, “So fuckin’ needy.” 

Her phone rang beside her, the familiar name flashing against her screen—Toji. Suguru kneeled his face into her neck, lips by her ear as she clutched him closer, her legs trapped beneath his broad frame, the sound of their skin connecting causing a low sob to shudder from her lips, nails digging into his back. 

Both of them ignored the name on the screen, Suguru continuing to hover over her body as the bed slammed against the wall. His lips were still near her ear as he muttered, “You’re gonna ignore that, right?” 

His mouth continued to harshly move against her neck before he picked his head up again, “You’ better fuckin’ ignore it.”

She cried out, “Ughnnn—mmm!” embarrassingly bleating from her lips, instead of the answer she thought she was going to give. 

He laughed above her, picking up his pace as he continued to hold her arms up above her head, “That’s it. I wanna hear more of that shit.” 

He brought his lips back to her neck again, biting against the skin, “Or answer the phone. Let him hear me fuckin’ you. How good it feels, shit feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Her ears could only listen to the banister hitting the wall so hard, the wood would have cried if it had emotions. She holds onto him by the nails clawing into her skin, pleasurable tears collecting in her ears as she nods her head, “Agh—yeah. So good. Sooo good.” 

“Yeah?” He replied in a cocky manner. 

“Yeah,” she gasped, “I’m…I—I’m gonna…oh…” she grips him closer than she ever has, pressing her mouth up to his as she begs, “Kiss me.” 

At her words, he pushed his tongue into her mouth, holding her in place as he pressed himself firmly against her. Their mouths continued to move together as he began to move his hips faster and rougher than they were before, groans leaving his mouth as they broke apart for a moment, “Fuck. I’m gonna—“ 

He bit down on her lips again, “Tell me you’re about to cum.” 

She gives him an even better response, hips nearly jerking away from him as she sobs out, desperately trying to grip his arm as he firmly holds her down. She whines against his face as he talks filthy to her, wanting her to feel every second of her orgasm. 

He continued to press himself against her while she came, “Oh shittt, baby,” squirming beneath his hands as he groaned, “Nah, fuck all that. Cum on my dick.” 

She whimpered as her body relaxed, shuddering as her legs trembled from the heavy orgasm he gave her. Her head kneeled against the bed, her eyes still shut as she panted heavily. 

He continued to watch her, panting himself—But he wasn’t done yet.  Suguru gripped her chin with his fingers, lifting her head to meet his eyes, “Look at me.” 

Her eyes fluttered open, listening to her demise as he told her, “We’re not done yet. Turn over, arch your back.” 

It was gonna be a long night.

                           °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧚

SHE COULDN'T GET THIS DAMN CROOK OUT HER NECK. When the next day came, Sweetie stretched across from Bubbles, trying to prepare for practice with the rest of the girls. She watched as the men slid around the ice within the rink not too far from their mat, also practicing but more so playing around with their coach too busy on the phone. 

Sweetie groaned as she felt a soreness in her lower back, bending forward as she asked her friend, “How are you so flexible? It’s like a talent or something.”

Bubbles chuckled at her words, watching as the men continued to mess around on the ice, she replied, “I’m double jointed,” placing her leg up on the bench, stretching it out, “Y’all just don’t got it like me.”

“God, I feel like I’ve been hit by a fuckin’ bus,” Sweetie mutters to herself.

“Hm, and did a bus hit you last night? Since you somehow didn’t make it up to my room like you said you would,” Bubbles tilts her head.

Sweetie halts from stretching her neck, holding her hand along her own shoulder as she raises an eyebrow, “You’ tryna’ be funny right now?”

Bubbles chuckled at her response, a smirk growing on her face as she continued, “No need to be defensive.” 

She stood up straight, crossing her arms as she looked back over at her, “Where’d you really go?”

Sweetie sighs as she looks out to the ice, seeing Toji sat out on the bench as he watches practice, face stoic as usual. 

She looks back to her friend as she says, “Me and Toji got into it.”

Bubbles now watched Toji too, his usual expression still intact on his face as he continued to sit on the bench. At her words, she quickly moved her head back around to look at her, “What? You’ guys fought?” 

“It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I…” she stops herself, rolling her eyes as she admits, “I think you might’ve been right about your little hypothesis.”

A smirk once again made its way onto Bubbles face, her arms still crossed as she chuckled, “You’ve got to be shitting me.” 

She watched as Toji sat on the bench, expression not changing, her eyes glancing back over to her friend, “So I was right, huh? That dude’s in love with your ass?”

“Not exactly. I just don’t think he’s a fan of sharing me with his bestie anymore,” she glances to Suguru who’s on the ice, the good looking bastard laughing with his other opponents as they talked shit to each other, long hair in a bun, tendrils falling along his face. The same way it was when he—

“I mentioned going to Suguru’s room, and he snapped at me. Asked if I was going to fuck him, then kicked me out.”

Bubbles nodded in response, taking her words into consideration as she watched Suguru on the ice, “Ahh, yeah I could see that happening. That’s crazy though.”

“I didn’t think he would. I went to Suguru and tried to talk to him about it, but Mr. Unemotional completely deflected my conversion, and instead ate me out and fucked me until I wasn’t even thinking about it,” she leaned along the wall, arms crossed over her chest.

“Of course he did,” Bubbles responded. Her lips twitched, trying not to smile at her, “Toji’s gonna need some time. He gets all pouty like that. And Suguru always acts like that, you can’t expect him to ever talk about his feelings.”

“It’d be nice if both of them were head over heels for me, maybe I’d feel like a princess or something. Unfortunately I am just pussy to one of them,” she sighs, almost disappointed at the thought.

“Can’t have your cake and eat it too, hm?” Bubbles teased.

“Not at all.”

“Cheer up, at least we have this outing tonight. Both coaches are going out of town for a meeting, so the boys are taking us out to the bar! Aren’t you excited?”

“To be with a bunch of drunk hockey players?” She raises her head, “Not in the slightest.”

Bubbles chuckled as she continued to talk, “Oh c’monnn. It’ll be fun. You can get drunk, shake that fat ass,” she nudged her shoulder with her own, “It’ll be good to get out with the team for a while.” 

She looked back to the boys on the ice, “Besides, I think you could use a night out. After that whole fiasco with Toji.”

“For him to get drunk and kick me in the chest ? Yeah, sure. Sounds like Disneyland,” she says, Bubbles chuckling as she returns to her stretching. 

When the night finally arrives, Sweetie takes this time to find something cute to wear, most of the time being under the force of her uniform. Both teams agree to the silly idea of dressing in children’s pajama pants, choosing their favorite childhood character. Sweetie stares in the mirror as she wears a pair of pink hello kitty shorts, her ass poking out from the bottom with a white baby tee, clips in her hair with furry boots to match. Bubbles stands beside her, matching kuromi shorts and a black baby tee.

 Her teammates playfully listen to music and dance together in her hotel room, her energy too low to join in on the fun. She feels a nudge come beside her as she sees Bubbles, holding a bottle of Don Julio. 

“Sure there isn’t poison in that?” She tilts her head at her, Bubbles rolling her eyes as she says, “Girl, drink this before I shove it up your ass.”

She opens her mouth to let the shot be poured in, throwing it back into her throat, the liquid practically burning her insides. She almost feels it instantly. A deep breath releases from her as she thinks—she did need to stop moping around and enjoy her night. 

She cheers herself up, pulling Bubbles into the group of girls as they sing along to the music, dancing all around her room until it’s time to go. 

When they meet up with the men at the bar, they all giggle as they fully follow through with their idea. They all wear solid colored T-shirts, pants varying from SpongeBob, Courage the Cowardly Dog, even to Mickey Mouse. The bar is noisy as they all order drinks. But with the shot in her system, Sweetie feels good. Maybe one more shot wouldn’t hurt. She downs another, the burn not as bad as before. Maybe another wouldn’t hurt either. 

An hour goes by, and she was now giggly, playing around with her friend as music blared around the building. She laughs as one of the guys from the team spun her and Bubbles around to dance with him, finally enjoying their time together without their coaches.

A lot was on Toji’s mind to say the least. He felt like he’d been in limbo the past twenty-four hours, the conversation between him and Sweetie never leaving his mind. He felt bad for how he spoke to her, but he just wanted to understand where their relationship stood. Did she care about him more than just the time they spent together? He couldn’t tell. 

Suguru was the complete opposite. His mind was careless, thinking about the bottle of beer he held within his hand. His eyes scanned over to the side of the bar where the girls stood around, crowding the dj’s booth as they requested song after song. He eyed Sweetie, who was the lesser of shy tonight, dropping her hips and swaying upwards, serenading the music as the other girls followed with her. When he noticed some of his teammates watching her with arousal, something in his eye twitched. Something. 

Toji leaned against the bar next to Suguru who downed the rest of beer, distracting himself as he talked to his teammate. He watched Sweetie. She wouldn’t stop giggling towards his teammate that talked to her. 

What the fuck was so funny? 

He didn’t know exactly what she’d been drinking, but he knew it was something strong enough to have her giving her flirtatious eyes, hooded as she spoke with a natural sultriness. 

“You’ good?” Suguru questions, tilting his second beer bottle up to his lips, noticing his friend's attitude.

“Good as fuck.” Toji replies in a somewhat bitter tone, never removing his eyes from her. 

Suguru then sees where he’s staring. He then tells him, “You’re a shitty liar,” as he takes another sip, watching her dance as well. His eyes narrow, trying to understand why he wasn’t entertained as he states, “She’s uh…enjoying herself.”

Toji clenched his jaw, “I see that.” 

Despite his own discretions, he’s not in the mood for his friend’s tantrums. “‘Fuck are you so pissy for? Coach isn’t on our ass, and you got’ beautiful women all around you. Maybe you need pussy or some shit.”

Toji looked at him, a frown taking place on his face, “Nah, I’m good. Just need some more beer.” 

He continues to drink, feeling himself becoming equally tipsy. His thoughts continue to scramble—why hadn’t she spoken to him since their argument? Did she miss him? Was she thinking about him as much as he thought about her? 

A fourth bottle encourages him to have the confidence to go up to Sweetie who sits at the bar, curves enticing him as she arches herself towards the bartender, talking to him with an almost dreamy sigh to her tone. He wanted to choke her. Or fuck her. Probably both.

Bubbles mutters, “Uh-oh,” as Toji comes over.

 Instead of him crashing out like Sweetie expected him to, he’s the calmes he’s ever been. He asks, “Can I come get my sweatshirt from you tonight?”

She blinks at that. He was good with his approach, but if she didn’t immediately hear an apology, she wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit. Her eyes scan down to the Nightmare Before Christmas pajama pants he wears. She says briefly, “I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

Toji looks at her, the liquor going straight to his head as he leaned onto the counter with one hand, “Nah, I want it tonight.” 

The alcohol made him bold. The way she had herself perched on the stool made it even worse. His eyes flicked down to her hips, seeing as they were completely visible.

It’s right on cue, Suguru coming to rescue his friend that had an equally bad mouth on him, if not worse. If Sweetie wasn’t annoyed, she would’ve giggled at the Coraline pajama pants he wore. Suguru also knew he was pumped up with beer, but unlike Toji, he wasn’t the type to cause a scene in public. 

He comes up as he asks Sweetie, “You’ good, pretty?”

“I’m fine,” she tells him, “Get your friend. He’s drunk.”

“I’m good as fuck,” Toji repeats, “I’m not a fuckin’ child.” 

“Then be an adult and get the fuck away from me!” She exclaims, her friend behind her having a worried look along her face, also knowing that Sweetie was equally as drunk. 

Suguru then says, “Baby, get some water. You’re drunk.” 

“Fuck off, you ain’t my damn daddy!”

Suguru’s soft tone drops, “And you’re not my child. So fuckin’ act like it.”

When he goes to grab for her, she yanks away as she says, “What? Tryna’ tell me what to do like your stupid ass friend? You know what? You’re right—I am drunk!” 

At this moment, the other girls are also a bit tipsy, beginning to climb atop of the bar as they dance to the music playing, men whistling below them as the team cheers them on. She follows after, catching her weight as she begins to sway her hips, dropping down as she rubs her hands along her body. To be as drunk as she was, she carried herself well, an intelligence as dangerous as a sober person.

Toji could practically feel the veins in his arms throbbing. Suguru had a tight grip on his shoulder, equally glaring. Usually, Toji was the action, Suguru the mouthpiece. But their roles had switched. This was all it took. 

Both men made sure the show was coming to an end. Sweetie squeaked as she felt a hand grip around her arm, yanking her down back onto the ground. Suguru began dragging her towards the front door, Toji directly behind him as they pulled her outside. 

It’s slightly cold, Sweetie able to see her breath as she yanks away from him, swaying as she exclaims, “Get the fuck off me!”

When she fully tugs away, Suguru then says, “‘Fuck are you doing the extra shit for? Showing your ass in front of a bar?”

“Why do you care, Suguru? What happened to you not having any feelings for me, huh? Remember? You don’t have those?” 

 He knew she was right, but he never responded to it, not wanting to give her any satisfaction. 

Toji was getting increasingly irritated, clenching his fist as Suguru gripped her again, holding her against him firmly, “We’re taking you back to your room. You’re clearly too drunk. You’re getting on my last bullshit nerves.”

“Fuck you,” she spits, “Fuck both of you. Acting as if you’re some emotionless bastards, now look at you—angry over a girl you’re supposed to just be fucking, dancing on top of a bar, just like any other bitch standing inside!” 

The way she carelessly speaks to both of them, Suguru feels himself becoming angry in a way that he never did before. He didn’t know how to handle the emotions he felt—his words retracted from his mouth before he thought about them. 

“Maybe I don’t wanna see the girl I’m fucking with get the eyes of anyone else!” 

Sweetie flinches back. She didn’t even have time to react, Toji catching their attention as he narrowed his eyes, “‘The fuck do you mean by that?” 

Suguru didn’t respond, his lips remaining in a tight line. The alcohol was making them all say things they would’ve left out had they been sober.

“Nothing.”

Suguru avoided eye contact with the both of them. He was starting to sober up, realizing what he’d actually said.

Sweetie narrows her eyes between the two, realizing where this was going. She says, “You know what? Y’all can both go to hell. You can fuck each other for all I care.”

She turns around as she drunkenly trudges back towards the door of the bar, poking her tongue out as she blows a raspberry, smacking her own ass before pointing the middle finger at them. 

Both men stood dumbfounded, unsure of who to be mad at in this entire situation. They’d figure that out once they sobered up. 

                            °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧚

THE NEXT MORNING was essentially a resting period for everyone. The coaches wouldn’t be returning until that night, preparing the team for the rivalry game they had coming up, meaning everyone’s head needed to be on a swivel. 

Sweetie had been in bed most of the day, her mind on one thing—her phone was entirely silent. No call, no text from anyone. She couldn’t lie, it scared her. 

The team practiced separately from the girls this time, which meant she still hadn’t seen, nor spoke to either Suguru or Toji. She didn’t see anything of them up until that night, the crowd completely full as it was their rival team, the audience set for a game like no other.

Toji and Suguru had been avoiding each other for a majority of the day, trying to recollect their minds on the events that had occurred the night before. They both knew they were starting to catch feelings, but neither wanted to confront it, keeping their distance from each other. 

Tonight’s game was a rather important one. The two teams were on equal footing, neither one being better than the other. Everyone was present in the stadium, the stands packed to the brim with attendees.

There was still a great amount of tension between Suguru and Toji, neither of them saying much to each other if it wasn’t about their plays within the game. Sweetie continued to cheer on the outside of the ice with her team, putting on a fake smile as she tried to take her mind off everything. 

Once the game began, the girls shook their pom poms together, giving encouragement as the puck hit the ice. Sweetie could tell Toji wasn’t playing to his best ability, his head clearly somewhere else. Unlike Suguru who swept through the floor effortlessly, getting the team their first score, their rivals seething from how quick it happened.

After that first score, the pace of the game picked up, the teams starting to get more aggressive the longer it went on. Toji kept struggling, playing more sluggishly and making more mistakes than usual, constantly missing the puck. 

Suguru was doing most of the work at the moment, trying to ignore how shitty Toji had been playing all night.  As the time ticked down, the end of the second period drew near.

The score wasn’t too bad, but Toji’s playing was still not what anyone expected, even himself. The teams all skated off the ice for the end of the second period, Toji ripping off his helmet and throwing it at the wall as he sat on the bench towards the front. Suguru was now becoming more frustrated, not having time for his tantrums. 

The coach did his usual digging in everyone’s ass, —especially Toji’s—sending them back onto the ice with an enraged tone. Toji quickly picked up his helmet, placing it back over his head as he got in place along the ice. 

Suguru passes by him, saying in a harsh tone, “Get your fuckin’ head out your ass.”

Toji turned, “What?” eyebrows now furrowed deeply.

“You heard me.” Suguru replies, “You’re playing like an ass. If you got some sort of problem going on in that thick ass skull of yours, take it somewhere else until we’re off the ice. You’re causing us to be two goals behind.”

Toji could feel himself becoming more angry. He wanted to keep himself calm, not wanting to get into it with someone he considered a friend. But if he didn’t give a fuck, why would he? 

“Fuck you,” he spat, “Don’t talk to me like I’m one of these fucking idiots, Getou. I’ll punch your fuckin’ mouth straight.”

Suguru let out a scoff, turning to him as he replied, “Don’t act like a fuckin’ child, Fushiguro. I don’t wanna hurt your sissy ass feelings. We’re behind because you can’t focus. It’s no one’s fault but your own. Get your shit together.”

“Sissy?” Toji seethes, “You’re an undercover bitch, I saw that all last night. Save the stupid shit for Sweetie and fuck off.” 

Hearing those words wasn’t something that Suguru expected to set him off— but it did. And it all happened so fast. 

He swung forward, throwing a punch so crushing that it knocked Toji’s helmet off, catching him off guard as he slammed into the ground while Suguru hovered on top of him.

The pain surged through half of his head, his ears ringing. The anger that had been building up over the past few weeks had finally exploded into one massive blow. His vision blurred, and that’s when he saw it— rage taking over. 

Toji felt himself get up from the ground, rushing back at Suguru and tackling him onto the ground, throwing a punch at his jaw.

The crowd gasped into shock, the other half cheering. Sweetie’s eyes went wide as she gasped, “Holy fucking shit,” watching as the two large men nearly tried to kill one another.

Their bodies slammed into each other, the two rolling around on the floor as they continued to throw punches, trying to take the other out as much as possible. Every impact sounded painful. Blow. Blow. Blow. 

The referees, even the coaches scattered onto the ice, no skates and all, pulling the two apart. Neither of them looked physically hurt, matching up to each other in weight class, nearly needing three to four men to break each of them up.

Even players from the other team were trying to break them up as best they could, everyone watching in pure disbelief at what was taking place. Toji was practically fuming, yelling curses at Suguru as he wrestled with the men who held him from behind. In that moment of complete anger, everything he’d been holding back for the last few weeks spilled out.

Bubbles looks at Sweetie, her eyebrows raising as she expects her to say something, yet her friend says nothing at all. She was in complete shock herself. 

The game continues without them. Sweetie was unable to get her mind off of the two men fighting—she felt like it was her fault. Their team had unfortunately lost to their rivals without their best players, everyone knew they were probably somewhere getting chewed out by their coach. 

Both coaches ordered a curfew for the team, everyone now being locked in their hotel rooms. Sweetie paces in Bubbles’ room, nearly about to chew her nails off as her friend scolded her for the entire situation. 

“How could you let it get this bad?” 

Sweetie frowns at her, “Me? I didn’t make them fight, Bubbles! I didn’t even know they were that mad at each other.”

“But you’re the reason they fought,” she pointed out. 

“If this is you tryna’ mom me, I don’t wanna hear it. I didn’t think this would happen, okay?”

She slumped down on a nearby bed, burying her face in her hands. “I just….. didn’t think it would end up like this. They were literally tryna’ tear each other apart. I thought they’d just ignore each other and move on.”

Bubbles sighed, “You really haven’t spoken to them since the bar fight?” 

Sweetie shook her head, “Neither of them called me. They probably hate me. Probably think I’m some slut that ruined their friendship.”

“You’re not a slut, and you didn’t ruin their friendship. They’re two idiots who need to learn how to control themselves,” she said, sitting beside her, “But you know what the real problem was?”

“No,” she lied, already knowing where this was going.

Bubbles raised an eyebrow, her tone going from light to serious, “The problem is that they both have feelings for you.” 

“That’s not the point of this,” Sweetie mutters.

Bubbles says, “Fine. So let’s get to the real point, do you have feelings for them?” 

She turns her head, blinking at the question. She’d never really thought about it. But as she sat on that, she realized that she enjoyed both of them in different ways, there wasn’t one that she liked more, and that was the problem. 

She scratches her arm as she comes to the conclusion, “…I like both of them,” admitting it softly.

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Cry? Get my head back on a swivel, stop fucking my co-workers and focus on my dancing. I don’t want any of us to lose our jobs because of stupid drama,” she admits, “I just wanna go to bed. Coach is gonna fry my fuckin’ ass if she knew this was about me.” 

“That’s probably the smartest thing to do,” Bubbles agreed, “But you can’t keep avoiding them.”

“I can try,” she mutters, “I’m gonna take a shower and try to get some sleep. Can I stay here?”

“Of course. You know you don’t have to ask,” Bubbles rubbed her arm, giving her a weak smile. 

She pulled her friend into a hug for the advice, deciding to lock herself within the bathroom, hoping a shower would clear her head. This was a rough situation.

The shower took her mind off of most of her problems, releasing her hair from the shower cap she wears as she plans to wrap it before going to sleep. Just as she’s doing her nightly routine, her phone buzzes. She glances over at the screen as she reads the text. 

suguru’s emo ass:  

we need to talk. come to my room. 

She blinks at the message, a frown coming to her face. Hesitantly, she replies back. 

me: 

now?

She began drying her hair, debating on whether to respond or not. Going back and forth in her head, the phone pings again, displaying—

suguru’s emo ass: 

hurry up.

His tone was completely different—more firm. He wasn’t asking, he was telling her to come to his room.

It was now late, Bubbles already dozing off along the bed. Sweetie looks at her purse as she realizes she had taken Suguru’s key-card again. Throwing their team's sweatshirt over her head and house slippers, she runs her fingers through her hair as she makes her way up to the third floor, quiet as she goes to his door. 

His lights were on this time, Sweetie turning to shut the door behind herself. When she turned back around, she halted.

Both Toji and Suguru were sitting in the room. 

She leaned her fingers against the knob as she looked between them, unsure of what to do or say. The two men had been sitting in silence, neither of them saying a word for at least ten minutes. Neither were injured from their fight. Both of their gazes fixated on her.

“Lock the door behind you,” Suguru tells her.

She hesitates for a moment. With an exhale, she locks the door before she takes a step forward, arms crossing over her chest. 

The first thing she asks is, “You’ guys okay?”

Toji was the first to reply, replying with a grunt as his eyes remained focused on her, “We’re fine.” 

Suguru patted the empty spot between the two of them, “Come sit,” he ordered.

“I’m fine standing here,” she tells him, “Say what you want to talk about.”

Both men didn’t take kindly to her going against their orders, Toji saying, “Don’t be stubborn, come sit.” 

Suguru was the less blunt one, trying not to seem too demanding, “We need to discuss what’s going on. That would be easier if all of us were sitting.” 

She looked between the two again, neither of them budging from their statement. She rolled her eyes. With a cross to her arms, she sits between them, posture perfect as she tries to make sure they didn’t touch her.

Suguru broke the silence, looking at her, “This relationship we have going on between the three of us, this shit isn’t working anymore.”

“You two beat each other's asses in front of thousands of people on account of me,” she points out, “It definitely isn’t working.”

“That’s because this fuckin’ idiot couldn’t keep his temper in check,” Toji comments as his gaze shifts to Suguru, his eyes narrowing.

“Shut up, dumbass. We’re trying to avoid an argument here,” he snaps, annoyed in his tone, “We already hashed our shit.” 

“I know that.”

“What’s there to clear on my end then, Suguru? This all started because you declared you didn’t want to share me. If anything, you need to talk to Toji—who essentially started this because he’s emotional,” Sweetie tries to deflect.

Toji couldn’t help but let out a scoff at that, a small smirk going on his face, “Of course you blame me,” he says sarcastically. 

Suguru smacks his lips, “There’s more to it than that. You know that.”

“I’m not blaming you,” she says to Toji, “I’m saying that y’all need to kiss and make up. This doesn’t have shit to do with me.”

Toji lets out a scoff again, “You’re the only thing it’s about, are you really acting that fuckin’ dense?”  

“Who the fuck are you calling dense?” She stands from the bed, standing over Toji who doesn’t fall back either as he replies, “Who the fuck else am I talking to?”

Suguru shoots them a look, “Cut the stupid-shit out—Both of you. It’s not helping.” 

Suguru turns, looking directly at Sweetie, “This is something that involves all of us. Don’t try to distance yourself from this.”

“This is why we can never get anywhere,” she goes back to Toji, “ You’ got a fighting ass mouth, and that’s why you’re always getting socked in it!”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Toji mutters, hand coming over his face, “Your mouth is just as bad.”

The both of them continue to go back and forth, Suguru once again feeling in the middle. But he was right about one thing—this was childish. 

Sweetie halts herself from arguing with Toji, pulling back as she says, “Wait. Stop. We are being stupid,” she crosses her arms over her chest again, thinking to herself to solve this somehow.

“Can we…try something?” 

They both blink at her question, slightly tilting their heads at her words. Toji has a raised eyebrow, while Suguru looks at her with a curious expression, “Try what?”

“We used to do this in my family where we’d turn away from each other and explain our feelings. That way tones of voice, expressions, they weren’t taken out of context and started arguments. I think that’ll be better here, yeah? Can we do that?” She asks, slender eyes switching between the two.

They both go silent, looking at one another before looking back at her. They’re silent for another few moments, taking her suggestion into consideration. 

Toji nods, “Yeah. Okay.”

Suguru hesitantly nods, “If it gets you two to stop getting at each other's throats, fine.”

All three of them sit on opposite ends of the bed, turned away from each other. It’s silent for a couple of minutes, each mind trying to find the right words. 

Sweetie says, “I’ll uh…go first.”

All of their interactions seem to wrack her brain at this moment. She doesn’t feel entirely wrong in this situation, but she knew where her faults came in. 

“I’m sorry—to the both of you. I didn’t mean to cause this type of tension between two friends. Even if you told me that it was okay, I should’ve never done this to begin with.”

Both of the men sat silently, listening intently as she began speaking. Toji had a hard expression on his face. Suguru had a more thoughtful look, taking in her words. He wanted to say something, but he knew it wasn’t his turn yet, so he kept his mouth shut.

“I also want to apologize to you separately as well. Toji…I um, I’m sorry, really. I don’t want to jump to conclusions about your feelings for me, but it feels like…more than sex for you. I care about you, and…I like you, a lot. You’re sweet. Without all the fighting and stuff. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings, it was easier to leave those conversations floating in the air,” she says quietly, softly to him.

Toji tenses up at her words, a small warmth forming on his face. His expression remains the same, though internally he was feeling a mix of different things—annoyance, anger, but a small sense of happiness to hear her speak those words.

“I care about you too.”

She turns towards him—although that wasn’t a part of the exercise—“You don’t like me?”

He didn’t reply for a few moments, just looking at the wall before he finally said, “You already know the answer to that,” he says, “Don’t ask stupid shit.”

She turns back towards her wall, hands in her lap as she says quietly, “Okay.” 

She then takes another breath as she says, “Suguru…I want to apologize for putting you in a complicated situation, but I’m not gonna apologize for my feelings for you. You said yourself you weren’t the relationship type, so it was hard to understand you. And what you said at the bar…I think it made things complicated for me.”

Suguru remains silently sitting, listening to each of her words. He felt a pang of guilt within his chest at her tone. He hated how upset she sounded. But he tried to keep his expression neutral, no matter how badly he just wanted to reach out and comfort her. 

She was right about that, and he knew it. He wasn’t the relationship type, so why did seeing her with Toji bother him so much? Why did his blood boil that she also liked him too?

“You’re not wrong either,” he says quietly, “It made shit more complicated for me as well.”

“I’m not exactly sure what you want from me,” she looks down to her lap, “But I…I like you just as much as I like Toji. So,” she leaves it at that, awkwardly twiddling her thumbs.

That had been a little hard for him to hear, especially being put next to Toji like that. He wasn’t angry. But not towards her. He was never truly upset with her through this whole thing, he was upset with himself for putting himself in this situation in the first place. 

He doesn’t reply right away, simply sitting there. Then, he spoke in a low voice, not turning to look at her, “And if I said I wanted more with you?”

She kept her head down, tongue in her cheek as she breathed out, “I don’t know.”

Now it was his turn to be frustrated, letting out an annoyed huff as he ran a hand through his hair. Nothing was ever going to be that easy when it came to her.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know?’” He repeats, “Answer the damn question.”

She turns her head, seeing as they both keep their faces to the wall. She frowned, “I don’t know, okay? I like both of you. It sounds fucked up, but it’s the way I feel.”

His jaw tensed up, his annoyance and irritation towards the entire situation reaching its peak. He didn’t turn to face her, keeping his back towards her as he spoke, “So what is it then? You’re just going to keep fuckin’ the both of us?”

She fully turns, seeing as neither of them look at her. It almost makes her want to cry. She scoots closer to Suguru, feeling that he’s more frustrated than her or Toji. 

She places her hand along his back as she says, “I wouldn’t do that.”

He tenses up when she scoots closer, not expecting her to touch him, let alone place a hand on his back. Her touch is oddly comforting for him, despite how frustrated he was. But he tried his best not to show it.

“Then what would you do?” He asked, finally turning his head just slightly to glance at her.

She blinks at him, glancing in between both him and Toji who still looks to the wall. She felt equal emotions for both of these men. 

Her mind goes blank for a moment, her thoughts pushing into something she would’ve never expected herself to do. Without thinking too much about it, she climbs along Suguru’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as she says softly to him, “Kiss me.”

His eyes widen at her actions, watching as she moves to climb into his lap. She felt good on top of him, her body pressed tightly against his. He could feel her heat, along with her breath against his skin as she leaned close to speak. 

But shockingly, he didn’t hesitate this time. He kisses her.

This kiss was different from any kiss she and Suguru shared, always lustful and primal. This was full of passion, tongues colliding together as she dug her fingers through his hair, lightly grinding her hips along his lap.

He inhaled deeply, his hands going up to her thighs as her hips began moving against him. She was driving him absolutely insane, and they were only kissing. 

He broke the kiss, his lips still just inches away from hers as he gruffly said, “Jesus, you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me like that,” He mutters against her lips.

Her mind moved a thousand miles a second. She breathily sighed, pulling back from him. Suguru leaned forward to kiss her again—except, she swiftly crawled off of him, making her way to the other end of the bed on all fours. 

She repeated herself, hoisting along Toji’s lap as she wrapped her arms around his neck as she asked, “Still mad at me?”

Toji’s body equally tenses up as she climbs on his lap, his hands reflexively going to her waist to keep her from falling. He doesn’t reply immediately, hesitating before he responds, “Not when you’re sittin’ on me like that,” he grumbles, “But yeah, I’m still kinda pissed with you.”

She sees Suguru watching, a look on his face she couldn’t read. She brings her eyes back to Toji as she asks him, “Do you want me?”

Toji’s hands tightened around her waist when she asked that question, his gaze completely focused on her now as they spoke, “That a real question?”

His eyes darted to her lips for a moment, before going back to her eyes. “You know I do,” he mutters, “I want you, I need you.”

“Show me, then,” she flicks her eyes to Suguru, “Both of you.”

Toji’s hands slid beneath her sweater, his touch light against her bare skin as he looked at her with a hint of hunger in his eyes. “You’ sure about that?” He asks, voice low.

She nods her head, pulling him forward, brushing her lips against his as she says softly, “Yeah.”

And at that confirmation, it was like a dam had been opened. 

Toji’s tongue pushes into her mouth forcefully, not having any interest in taking things slow. He wanted her.

His hands move up her abdomen, roaming over every curve and dip of her body. He groans lowly into the kiss, wanting nothing more than to have her wrapped completely around him.

His kiss was even more distracting than Suguru’s, melting away her thoughts in seconds, almost like a trance. He was always more tender with her, but she could feel him trying to hold back, his nails digging into her hips. She hadn’t realized Suguru making his way to their side of the bed, up until she felt fingers digging into her scalp, a soft gasp coming from her lips as he tugged her head back, latching his own lips onto her mouth. Toji’s own lips are now sucking the skin of her throat. The feeling of them trying to be gentle with her made her breath heavy, unable to find somewhere to put her hands, not knowing where to touch.

Toji continues, sucking and biting as he nips his way down her throat, leaving behind multiple hickey’s in the process. She tasted so good, her skin was so soft, he can’t get enough of this. 

Suguru still had a hold on her hair, and now he used it to pull her head back further, wanting access to her throat as well. 

“You’re supposed to be paying attention to me,” he murmurs against her neck. 

She gasps at his words, his hand twisting her hair in his palms, both lips upon her neck in a way that felt overwhelming. But something in her felt…defiant. 

Her face came down as she met with Toji’s mouth, pushing her tongue past his lips as she grazed her fingers along his body, pulling at his shirt for him to remove it, giving him the attention Suguru commanded for.

He tightens his hold on her hair, keeping her in a firm grasp. He groans lowly at the sight of her making out with Toji, the sound coming out as a near growl.

His free hand begins roaming over her, slowly lifting the sweatshirt up her body. He was tempted to just rip it off, but something told him to take his time. He wanted to draw this out, he wanted to see how worked up he could get her.  

With the hold still along her hair, Suguru lightly tugged her back, mouth hovering over hers as he asked, “You’ tryna piss me off?”

She sultrily giggles along his mouth as she says, “Maybe.” 

With that, he pulls her into a rough kiss, tongue practically fucking her mouth as he then commands to her, “Open your mouth since you want him so badly.”

Her thoughts were just as filthy. She wanted to show just how badly she wanted them—the both of them. She’s already reaching for Toji’s sweatpants, releasing his length from beneath his boxers, greedily attaching her mouth along his tip, causing him to grunt at the feeling.

Sweetie wraps her mouth around him, his hands instinctively reaching for her face, caressing her jaw. His eyes close for a moment as he enjoys the sensation, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. 

Suguru keeps his eyes down to watch her, grip of her hair still in his hold as he tells Toji, “Fuck up her throat.” 

She feels as Toji takes hold of her jaw and cheek, mouth stretching as she tries to fully take him, almost struggling as she does so. 

Suguru leaned forward, “Don’t act fuckin’ shy now, you wanna play, so show me what the fuck I’m missing.”

Sweetie moans against Toji’s tip, wrapping her free hand around the base of him, coating him with her saliva as she slaps him along her tongue, keeping her eyes against his gray one’s.

Toji’s breathing becomes heavier, his grip tightening around Sweetie’s hair as he begins thrusting into her mouth. The wet sounds of their actions fill the room, along with Sweetie’s muffled moans. 

Suguru watches intently, occasionally running his fingers through her pink hair, encouraging her to take more of Toji inside of her mouth.

“Like that?” She asks softly, bobbing her head up and down as slowly as she could, his length appearing and disappearing within her mouth, Toji’s head leaned back as he grunted, “Fuck, don’t do that,” which makes her giggle. 

“Just like that, baby,” Suguru grunts, “That’s good.”

Suguru’s hand slides along her throat as he pulls her up to look at him, a dark chuckle coming from his lips. He leans down as he kisses her, holding her jaw within his palms as he spits into her mouth as he gruffly tells her, “Keep going.”

She continues, her jaw burning from the amount of movement she does, but it makes her all the more aroused. Seeing Toji’s eyes blown with lust, holding her face and caressing her jaw, he lightly slaps her face as he grunts, “Got a fuckin’ mouth on you, baby,” which makes her moan against him in response, pulling her mouth back as she works her hand against him, running her tongue along her lips.

Toji's eyes were wide open, watching her every move as she worked his dick in and out of her mouth. "Fuck...," he muttered, gripping tighter in her hair. "God damn, you're sexy."

She climbed farther along the bed, arching her back as she leaned down to take him deeper into her mouth, pulling him out as she attached her lips to the side of his dick, coating spit all around it, praising him affectionately. 

She moans against him, “Such a pretty dick, baby. Love it, always.” 

“Yeah?” He says lowly, “Keep fuckin’ sucking it, then.” 

She complies, taking him back into her mouth, loving every second of pleasuring him. All the while, Suguru came behind her, pulling off the sweatshirt she wears, seeing the baby pink thong under the oversized material. He’s pressing kisses along her back, going to the back of her thighs, the feeling making Sweetie shudder lightly, nonetheless pushing her focus back to Toji. 

She almost halts as Suguru pulls the material to the side, running his tongue along her core, dropping his lips back down to her clit, wrapping it under his mouth as he sucks. It causes her to press her thighs together, moaning lightly.

Toji watches her, his eyes growing lower with each sound she makes, each time she moves her head. He reaches down, grabbing onto her hair again, guiding her head so that he can thrust further into her mouth. "Damn, your mouth feels so fucking good," he growls out.

Suguru’s mouth latching in between her legs distracts her for a second. Her mouth pulls back as she softly moans again, wrapping her hand around Toji’s length to keep his pleasure going, now unable to focus. Suguru’s head bobbed up and down, a sloshing sound creating as he moaned into her, dipping his tongue in and out of her opening, fucking her with his mouth. She turns back to watch him, her eyes being caught as Toji pulls her face back towards him. 

“Nah, keep sucking my dick. Nobody told you to stop.” 

The pleasure Suguru begins to give her makes another moan fall from her lips, a short whimper in response, “Toji—“ 

“I don’t wanna hear that shit,” he grunts, “Open your mouth.” 

She complies, taking him back into her mouth, trying to keep her eyes from fluttering shut as she jolts from Suguru’s palm slamming against her ass, pulling back as he moans, “Pussy tastes so fuckin’ good, baby. I could eat this shit forever.”

Toji takes control of the situation once more, his large hand cupping the back of her head as he starts thrusting into her mouth again. His other hand grips tightly onto her hair, keeping her head steady as he fucks her mouth. "Mmm," he groans, "You’re too fuckin’ perfect."

She pulls her mouth away as she feels Suguru spank her more harshly, pulling her hand back to get a hold of his hair as she whimpers, “Gonna make me cum, baby. Slow down.” 

“That’ your spot, baby?” Suguru almost mocks her, seeing as she nearly pouts, nodding her head in agreement. 

She suddenly feels Toji snatch her hands forward, gripping her wrists under his palms as he grunts, “Make her squirt on your face.” 

Suguru’s dark chuckle rumbles against her core, diving his tongue in and out as he says, “She likes to be fucked like this, just by my mouth. Don’t you, baby?” 

Her back arches, eyes nearly rolling back as he goes…extremely…slow, twisting his head side to side as he sticks his tongue out, rubbing it up and down, dragging it along her core before pushing it back into her walls. She gasps, legs trembling as she’s quick to do exactly what Toji knew she would, gushing along Suguru’s face effortlessly, shuddering heavily when another spank comes to her skin.

"Fuck..." Suguru groans, licking up the mess that Sweetie had made for him. 

It was unfortunate that he didn’t feel satisfied, grunting, “Too fuckin’ sensitive. You’re gonna cum as many times as I want you to.” 

He’s back at it, eating away at her as if he starved, like she was the last thing on earth he could consume. He’s French kissing her core, making out with her folds as he goes back down to her clit, suckling at it with a popping sound. Her eyes flutter shut as she attempts to pull away from Toji again, causing another spank to her skin. She had to be red by now. 

Toji tsks her, “Let that shit feel good. Relax.” 

“Toji,” she whimpered again, his reply being, “Stop calling me.” 

When she pulls one of her hands free, Toji clasps them both again, now slamming them behind her back, pushing her back inward to give her more of an arch. He tells her, “He’ll eat your pussy until you fuckin’ cry. That’s what you want?” 

She shakes her head, moaning out as Suguru spanks her again, drinking up her arousal as he grunts against her opening, spreading her inner thighs farther apart, practically diving his face into her.

"Fuck... I'm not stopping until she cums." Suguru grunted, the vibrations from his voice sending shockwaves through Sweetie's body. He continued to lick and suck at her pussy, using his fingers to spread her open even wider so he could feast on her without any obstructions.

Suguru's hands were planted firmly on either side of her, holding her in place while he ate her out. His tongue was relentless, exploring every nook and cranny of her wet folds.

Suguru's tongue delves deeper into her, curling up to hit that sweet spot inside of her. He hummed, the vibration shooting straight to her core and causing her to buck her hips against his face.

Meanwhile, Toji leaned down to capture one of her nipples between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug before letting go. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hot breath ghosting over her heated skin.

Her hands trapped behind her back only allows her to pull her upper body up by strength, Toji’s free hand palming at her breast, pulling them into his mouth as he grunted at the softness of them. She digs her teeth into her lip as she groans from the sensitivity, looking down to him as she warns with a gasp, “I’m gonna cum…”

With her warning, Suguru pulled away abruptly, leaving her panting and whimpering in protest.

 He grunted, “C’mere,” pulling her backwards by the waist, lifting her up until she was standing on the edge of the bed. He then pushed her forward, so she was bent over with her ass in the air. 

Toji scooted with him, Suguru now taking both of her wrists beneath his one hand, guiding her with the other as he pulled himself from his sweatpants, tip fat and heavy as it grazed her core. It was familiar to her.

 Toji took a hold of her face as it all happened at once, Suguru slowly pushing his tip into her tight opening, stretching her in a way that felt like he hadn’t been there before. 

Her eyes were blown, mouth lightly parting as Toji caught her lips against his own, moaning mockingly with her as she sucked in a breath, whimpering deeply before dragging out another moan, the pleasure blinding the pain that itched her in a erotic way.

She whimpered against Toji’s mouth so silent, she could barely hear herself as she muffled, “Oh my…god,” her eyes fluttering shut as Toji brushed his lips against hers, holding her face as he lowly muttered back, “Yeah, you cumming?” 

She panted, almost as if she were falling into an asthma attack as she whimper back breathlessly, “I’m fuckin’ cumming, baby.” 

“Yeah, just like that? From me putting my shit inside of you?” Suguru talks to her now, gripping her hip as he rolled his hip forward, pushing deeper into her. 

She pushed him back, gushing out again, Suguru groaning as he spanked her, “Ooh, shit. That’s a good fuckin’ girl, baby.” 

Sweetie moaned out, dragging the sound messily, embarrassingly, making music against Toji’s mouth, his hands upon her throat and face as he arrogantly smirked, watching her fall apart. He then made it worse, pressing his hand against her shoulder as he pushed her back again, the suction of air releasing from her folds as she moaned louder at that.

Toji kept his grip firm on her face, forcing her to watch him as Suguru began to thrust into her, their bodies slapping together each time he buried himself deep within. The sight alone was enough to make Toji harden again, his other hand moving to stroke himself as he watched.

"Shit, she's so tight," Suguru grunted, his pace picking up as he pounded into her, "Feels so fucking good."

"You should see this view," Toji said, smirking as he moved his hand faster, "It's amazing."

She cried softly, “Suguru…”

“What? You want me now?”

His hands on her shoulder, tilting her body slightly to the side as he snaps his hips, hitting her deepest spot, exactly where he knew she’d whine from. The whine comes directly after, body trembling, turning her eyes towards him, watching her ass clap against his abdomen as she whimpers, “A—Always want you, baby.”

Suguru chuckled, "I know you do. Pussy is gripping me like she can’t let go.” 

Her eyes roll to the back of her head, senses gone as she talks, “Always been your pussy, baby.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeahhh,” she inhales deeply, almost creating a headache as her eyes stared into darkness, too busy being stuck in the back of her head. 

“He fuckin’ you that good, huh?” Her voice hears Toji’s talking to her, his hand still upon her throat, other hand stroking himself, “Losing all your senses, baby?” 

She looks down at him, shaking her head as she whimpers, “Miss you, Toji.”

“No you don’t.”

“I—I promise…” she brokenly moaned.

He leans himself back, “You promise? Come bounce on this dick and show me.”

“Nah, she’s gonna make me cum first,” Suguru says, gripping her hair again, pounding her harder, snapping his hips forward, Sweetie’s head practically spinning, no words falling from her lips.

“Wait to cum, gonna fuck her together,” Toji tells him, “She needs to come fuck me first. Prove all that shit she’s talking.”

Suguru looks down to her, seeing his dick being coated with her arousal. A dark laugh comes from him as he pulls out of her, spanking her again as she shudders. 

Her legs feel like noodles as she crawls into the bed, climbing on top of Toji, placing herself on her knees. He shakes his head as he commands, “Put your feet flat on the bed.” 

If she already wasn’t so tired, she’d roll her eyes. She listens nonetheless, placing her feet along the comforter, grabbing for his length as she leans herself on his leg, slowly sinking herself down into him. Her hips desperate quiver as the back of her thighs stick to his abdomen. His palms are on the skin of her ass, hoisting her up as he drops her down, her hand along his chest as she sucks air into her mouth, his movement hitting her cervix in a way that has her groan in pleasure.  

Toji grunted under her, his hands squeezing her ass as she bounced on his lap. "Fuck, you're so wet," he growled, his hips bucking up to meet hers with every downward motion of hers.

She was. She could hear herself, squelching each time his tip was halfway in, quelling each time her ass clapped back down against his skin. He’s holding onto her hips as she mewls, the only thing she could do. 

He talks in between each clap of her ass, “Keep…pulling my shit in like that…” he grunts, “You wanted to be fucked just like this. This is what you needed, huh baby?” 

His hand travels up to her mouth, shoving his fingers in between her lips, pulling her down by her teeth. She sucks along his fingers as she nods, giving a whimper in return. 

Suguru comes from behind, taking his middle and ring finger as he rubs in circles on her clit, Sweetie gasping as he says in her ear, “You’re too fuckin’ nice to her,” his other hand along her side, picking up her hips and dropping them down when he sees her slowing down.

Toji let out a low, guttural growl as he felt Suguru's hands helping move her hips. He looked up at her, his hands tightening as he began thrusting up into her, his movements growing faster and rougher. "Fuckin’ hell... Talk to be, baby. You’re too quiet."

Suguru kept rubbing her clit, his finger circling faster as he whispered in her ear, "Tell us how we're fucking you."

"I..." she panted, “Love bouncing on your dick, baby…” her grip tightening on his shoulders as she rode him. "It's filling me up so good..."

Suguru continued to rub her clit, his finger moving faster as he whispered in her ear, "That’s good baby, keep talking.”

She shakes her head, leaning back against Suguru as she whimpers, “Can’t. Gonna cum again…” 

“Then cum again,” Toji grunts. 

“Nah. Remember what you said,” Suguru reminds, Sweetie’s body jolting as she feels his thumb prodding at her other hole, a pleasure she hadn’t expected to rush over her, making her moan in a way she thought she wouldn’t.

 His thumb pressed harder against her hole, pushing inside until he'd buried himself up to the first knuckle. "If you cum again, it’ll be from the both of us.” 

Her body trembled as he spoke, the feeling of his thumb stretching her open making her whimper. She nodded frantically, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

"Good girl," Suguru murmured, his thumb continuing to push deeper into her. He leaned over, whispering into her ear, "You want me, don't you? You want us to fill you up?"

She nods her head, dropping herself down harder against Toji, “Need you too baby, so…fucking…horny…” she whimpers, grinding herself against his hips, unable to wait any longer.

Toji's thrusts grew even more forceful, his hands digging into her hips as he pounded up into her. "Ooh, fuck. She’s wet, she needs you," he groaned, his own climax coming close.

He could feel her becoming tighter, squeezing him in a way that he wasn’t sure he could handle. Suguru released her hands, Sweetie pulling Toji’s upper body up to be closer to hers, rotating her hips against his as she moaned against his mouth. 

They kissed as they moved together, his hands gripping onto her ass tightly. He could feel his climax building—he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

Suguru moved his hand away from her, reaching down to align his tip with her hole. The silence between the three returned, Toji taking a hold of the side of her throat as he kept her eyes along his, lightly kissing her lips as he kept her relaxed. It was like a fire had aligned against her lower body, Sweeting wrapping her arms around Toji’s neck as she whimpered uncomfortably, Toji apologizing, “I know, baby. Give it a second.” 

Suguru grunted, feeling as she clasps around him, bringing his hand around to clasp for her throat as well, lips along the back of her ear as he grunts, “You’re doing so fuckin’ good, baby.”

Toji's grip on her throat tightened as he held her there, his thrusts slowing down as he tried to give her time to adjust to the new sensation. He could feel his climax approaching quickly, his breathing heavy and ragged as he fought to hold back.

Meanwhile, Suguru slowly pushed into her farther, his fingers digging into her hip as he forced himself inside. "Fuck, you're so tight."

She felt like she was nearly going blind, her mouth parting open as she shuddered, “Oh my…” feeling as Suguru tilted her face to kiss her, sliding his tongue into her mouth as he pushed deeper, both of them moaning into each other's throats.

Suguru released her lips, giving her a couple more pecks as she shuddered out another moan. He gently grasped her neck as he pulled her down, giving her a slow and gentle thrust. She sucked in a breath, brushing her lips along his in return. She whines, so horny, “You can fuck me, want you to cum in me, Suguru.”

"You want me to cum in you?" Suguru asked, his thrusts growing faster and more desperate. He could feel his climax approaching quicker than he assumed.

Toji watched the two of them closely, his grip on her throat loosening as he felt her relax a bit. He was also close, his stomach flipping at the sight of her falling apart. 

She nods her head, “Want you to cum in me,” she filthily says, “Wanna belong to you, and Toji.” 

Toji begins moving his hips again as he talks to her, “Yeah? Say it like you mean it.” 

“Wanna be yours,” she says to the both of them, both of them thrusting sending a shock wave to her, her body spazzing, sending her brain into a mush. Her eyes return to the back of her head as she begins grinding herself against the both of them, “Feels so…fucking good. Oh my god…”

"Say our names," Toji commanded, his thrusts getting faster and rougher as he listened to her moans. Suguru's thrusts became erratic as well, his grip on her hip tightening as he felt his climax near.

“Toji…” she kissed him, wrapping her tongue against his as she circled her hips against him, clawing her nails against his back. She then reached behind her as she pulled away from him, kissing Suguru as she arched her back, dropping her hips down against him from behind as she whimpered, “Suguru…”

Their moans escalated like a symphony, their heads kneeled along her shoulder, moans, grunts, it all broke through their lips in shock waves. Sweetie’s body trembled as a groan forced out of her throat, sobs and mixtures of weak screams enveloping her lips. They followed after her, grunting as they both released inside of her, kisses masking along her skin from two pairs of lips. 

She felt breathless, emotions heightened as she panted against them. Her face felt warm, fingers sliding along their skin as she tried to find the words to say. 

“We should probably clean up…we have practice tomorrow,” she says under her breath, her face still completely warm. 

“You’re cute when you’re shy,” Toji tells her, tickling her ear with his mouth, Suguru pulling her into a kiss as he chuckles at her embarrassment. 

“She’s right. We have a therapy session as well. Thanks to this fucking idiot for talking shit to me.”

Toji glares, “You started it.”

“Can y’all not fight, please?” Sweetie sighs.

They realize they’re quick to bicker, rubbing their hands along her skin as a form of an apology. Toji then clears the silence, unable to help himself.

“So does this mean I gotta’ date him too? Suguru’s not my type.”

“Fushiguro, shut the fuck up.”

“Oh god…” Sweetie sighed, knowing this was gonna be never ending.