#had to get this out it drives me up the wall every time

[nymphoheretic]

Not Through Yet

Warnings: implied marathon sex, implied breeding, mentioning of pregnancy, unprotected sex, squirting, overstim, reader/MC passes out, praise, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), cum eating, caleb's arm has a useful feature (let me know if I'm missing anything)

Word count: 2.1k (I wrote this with my pussy on the keyboard)

A/N: This is straight smut all 2.1k of it and is kinda like a continuation of Unwanted Reunion, but can be read as standalone!

AO3

Network: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

“C-Caleb, gunna cum...”

How many times have you said this sentence? How long has it been since Caleb pulled you from that interrogation room to his quarters on the Fleet’s ship to fuck you over and over, driving your body into overstimulation and making you so sensitive that the feeling of your own sweat rolling down your body was enough to make you cry out so wantonly. 

Every methodical drag of his cock through your gummy walls was enough to make your body tremble with another onslaught of shivers. You whimper when he turns your head to face his, lips finding yours and his tongue delving deep. Your pussy squeezes his cock just right, milking his balls of his seed as you drench his shaft in your creamy arousal.

“Go ahead. I’m right behind you, princess.” He moans so sweetly against your lips, a string of saliva still connects your tongues as he pumps his hips into your at a much slower pace than he had been. It was as if he was contradicting his words and prolonging your orgasm. The steady wet clap of his balls smacking against your sensitive, overstuffed cunt was almost enough to send you back spiraling.

Your back arches away from the bed, arms heavy from exhaustion as you lift them to wrap around his neck. “Can’t cum anymore, Caleb...s’tired...need t’rest.” His lips move to brush over your forehead as he pants out, hips still continuing their slow roll into yours. Caleb peppers kisses all over your sweaty forehead and down your cheek until he reaches your lips again. They were swollen from the many times he’s sucked them into his mouth, nibbled on them, just tasting your lips repeatedly. He couldn’t get enough of you. Caleb needed more of you. Feeding you his tongue to silence your whine, his left hand crawls down between your thighs and rubs slow, steady circles on your clit, working you up to another orgasm after the one you just had. “You got plenty in there for me, right? Yes, you do. C’mon~ Give me what I want, sweetheart.” Caleb coaxes gently, yet his tone was still even. Like he wasn’t being affected by the sheer overstim he was putting you both through.

You moan as your cunt releases its juices quickly over the thrumming of your clit pulsing under his fingers as he plucks at it like a finely tuned instrument. Your slick dribbles out, running down the crack of your ass to join the large, growing wet spot under you, drenching the sheets. “Fuck! Caleb! I can’t anymore!” Caleb simply curls his arms around your head, caging you in as his hips pick up in speed, the lewd schlick of your velvet heat taking his cock ringing out in the room. He couldn’t stop; wouldn’t stop. Not until you were swollen with how much of his cum he’s pumped inside you. Not until he’s gotten his fill of you. Until he’s gotten in a year's worth. But even then he wouldn’t be satisfied. Caleb craved you; vowed to always be there for you; to always protect you. And that’s what he was going to do.

He drags his cock through your slick walls, grunting at the way your walls cling to his shaft and trying to suck him back in deeper. A chuckle vibrates in his chest tingling down your lips as he suckles your tongue briefly before letting go. His thumb comes up to break away the thin string still connecting your lips, smearing it over yours as he smirks down at you. “That’s not what she’s saying.”

His hips snap into yours, thick cockhead battering against your cervix, kissing at the entrance to your womb. Sweat rolls down the side of his face, the clear droplet hanging from his chin until it splatters down onto your collarbone. “She is squeezing me so tightly, little one. It almost makes it hard to keep thrusting.”  He brings his bionic arm up to his lips and licks the tip of his middle and ring fingers, coating them in his saliva. “My hand also has a special feature I thought about just for you.”

You gasp when the cold digits touch your hot flesh as he trails them down your belly, a gentle vibration skimming across your skin. “Caleb, what?” You look down at his hand and see the fingers whirling and humming as they shake softly. Your head falls back against the pillows as your back arches away from the bed, hips pressing more into his as his fingers touch your clit. “Fuck! That’s feels...ah~” Your words are cut off in another fevered moan as Caleb rubs slow circles around your throbbing nub.

Caleb smiles sweetly, eyes full of affection, desire, and need as his cock batters against your womb, vastly contracting against his sweet words as his fingers vibrate on your clit. His lips find your sweaty forehead, tongue slipping out to collect the droplets of sweat to taste the salt of your skin as he presses tender kisses. “You used to always like when I did this~” His fingers press harder against your throbbing nub, the buzzing from the vibrations sending the neurons in your brain alight as your body bucks.

“Oh my god! Caleb!” Your voice comes out in a loud cry as your tears fall faster down your cheeks as the sting of overstim settles in your bones. Your clit twitches violently under his touch as your pussy clamps down tightly on his girth. You manage to jerk your legs away from your chest to wrap them tightly around his waist. “You’re gonna make me cum again. Oh, please?!” “Please?” He repeats in a teasing mockery mimic of your voice as his free hand comes to cup your jaw, his chest pressing into yours and making your overly sensitive nipples rub against his sweat slick skin and making you cry out even louder. He could feel the way your walls quiver around him. “Come on, little one. Stop being stubborn and let her wet me up again. You know you want to.” the vibrations quicken as he turns your face towards his, his tongue dipping out to curl into your mouth and swallows your screams.

Your back arches violently, nails of one hand digging into the sheet under you as the other rips through the flesh of his back. You feel him hissing against your lips as your dig your nails deeper into the muscles of his face, pussy clenching tightly around his shaft as your juices leak out of you like a faucet. The spray of hot liquid drenches his lower abdomen, thighs, pelvis, and drips down his shaft to soak up his balls. Cooling droplets roll down the crack of your ass before joining the pooling wet spot underneath you.

His grunts morph into moans as his hips studder, your slick walls massaging and trying to milk his cock for his seed. “Fuck...she’s clamping down on me so tightly. She must really be hungry for my cum? You want me to cum inside you. To fill you up and fuck it deeper before cleaning you up with my tongue, princess?” Caleb’s lips curl into a sweet smile when all you could do was let out babbles and broke pleas of his name. 

“Yeah? Say my name.” His left hand trails down your neck to your belly, fingertips swirling over the small bulge his cock was making. “Feel me right here, princess?” Caleb teases, making you whine out and tighten your legs around his waist. A chuckle vibrates through his chest as he leans back in and presses the sweetest of featherlight kisses to your lips as his cock twitches with your depths. 

A guttural moan leaves his throat as he snaps his hips and his back straightens, his heavy balls drawing up as his cum paints your insides white in his color. “Fuck, princess. That’s a good girl. Taking my cum like the slutty girl you are for me.” His right hand stops vibrating, your juices sliding down the digits as he brings them to your lips. “Go on, clean them up for me then I’ll clean up my mess.”

“Your mes-mmmph~” Your words are cut off in a muffled moan as Caleb slips his soaked metal fingers past your parted lips. You whimper at the musky taste of your own slick and the metallic tang of his fingers running over your taste buds and your eyes slide close. A hum vibrates in the muscles of your throat and chest as your curl your tongue over the cool digits, warming them with your saliva before swallowing around them.

“Atta girl...” His lilac eyes swirl with lust as he watches you clean his hand of your squirt as he slowly drags his cock through your sensitive gummy walls, his cum sloshing around from the movement. He eases his softening dick out your fucked out little hole and slowly dropped open mouth kisses down your chest. His tongue curls over one nipple, worshiping it his his teeth with light nibbles before moving down lower. His lips nuzzle against your belly; one day it will be rounded with his child.

 One day.

His kisses trail lower until he has your thighs cupping his head. Caleb’s eyes lock on the thin glob of his cum that oozes out of your hole and his mouth waters a bit. Resisting the urge to use two of his fingers to scoop it back in and push it in deeper, his tongue lolls out. The pointed tip of his pink muscle strokes over your slit from bottom to top, collecting the string on the flat of it. He moans at the taste of his sticky cum mixing with your slick as it spreads over his taste buds. Caleb feels you jolt, your hands flying to tangle in his hair to probably stop him, but he uses his evol to make your wrists fly above your head and pin them to the mattress.

He moves his hand from your mouth as his cups his hands under your ass to bring your cunt to his ravenous mouth. One taste of your combined fluids and he was hooked. His tongue slithers into your gushing hole, seeking out more of his cum because he knows that he’s stuffed you so full of it by now. He shakes his head like a hungry dog, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his bangs stick to it in wet clumps. Lewd slurping sounds come as his lips suckle at your clit, tongue wriggling inside your clenching pussy.

Your back arches even more due to his grip on your ass as he lifts you up, your hips off the bed as your upper back and shoulders still rests on the mattress. You try to pry your wrists from the strength of his evol to no avail as he begins to feast  on you, the lewd slurping and swallowing filling the bedroom. Your mouth parts in a scream as your nerves are driven past the point of overstimulation. “Ca-Caleb! I-” Your words die off in another scream as the white hot coil in your lower belly winds tighter and tighter with every greedy lick and slurping of his tongue.

He suctions his mouth to your hole to suck out every last drop of his cum out your pussy, his nose bumping against your overly engorged clit. His eyes slide close as the musky taste of your juices mixed with his seed continues to flow over his tastebuds, He couldn’t get enough as his cock twitches back to life and pre slowly beads in the slit to dribble down his shaft. “Come on. Let me taste her. Let her squirt down my throat.” His left hand raises slightly and smacks down on the firm globe of flesh that was your ass, the skin jiggles lightly.

You could feel black spot forming in your vision as your chest heaves, your stomach caving in as you cum hard on his relentless tongue. Squirt, hot and runny, filling his mouth and running down his throat as he eagerly swallows it all down. Your body goes limp in his hands as the black spots increase, spreading over your vision completely. “Ca-leb....” You whisper out before exhaustion finally claims you.

Caleb pulls away from your delicious cunt, his lower face wet and shiny. His eyes immediately try to catch yours and panic settles in his chest when he sees you passed out. “Shit.” He curses as he lays you down in a dry spot on the bed. He crawls up to cradle your face in his palms and looks at your peaceful sleeping face and lets out a sigh of relief. “For a Hunter, we need to work on your stamina, little one.” He chuckles as he presses a sweet kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Get some rest. You’ll need it for later. I’m nowhere through with you.”

2022-25 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform. I only have tumblr and AO3.

[miniscapes333]

Passionate confession from your FS (18+) (Possesive edition) (part - 1)

PICK A PILE READING LOVES ;)

👇 [PILE - 1] 👇[PILE - 2]

👆 [PILE - 3]

Disclaimer: The images featured are not mine. All credit and rights belong to their original creators.

PILE 1

"You have no idea what you do to me. Or maybe you do. Maybe you see it—the way my jaw clenches when you walk into the room, the way my fingers twitch like they ache to touch you, the way I have to exhale slowly when you get too close, just to keep myself from doing something reckless. Do you feel it, the charge in the air when we’re near each other? It’s unbearable sometimes, the tension, the pull. You’ll brush past me—just the faintest graze of your skin against mine—and I’ll have to force my hands into my pockets, grip the nearest surface, do something to stop myself from dragging you into the nearest secluded corner and making sure you know exactly how badly I’ve been craving you. I don’t think you understand how much I struggle with this. With wanting you and not being able to have you the way I need to.

"And when I think about finally having you—really having you—I imagine it slow, deliberate. None of this rushing, none of this fleeting, stolen touches nonsense. No, when I get my hands on you, I’m taking my time. I want to feel your breath hitch when I kiss that spot just below your ear, want to watch the way your fingers grip the fabric of my shirt when I press you against me. I want to memorize you. The weight of your body against mine, the sound of my name on your lips when you finally let yourself melt into me. Because, love, I’ve been suffering for you. Every time our eyes meet across a crowded room, every time your fingers brush against my wrist absentmindedly—it’s torture. Do you know how many times I’ve had to sit next to you, watch you, be close but not close enough? My fingers flex at my sides, my lips part like I’m about to say something, but I hold it back. Every. Damn. Time. But one day? Oh, one day, I won’t hold back anymore.

"And when that moment comes? When I finally let go of every restraint, every ounce of self-control? I hope you’re ready for what that will mean. Because I promise you, once I start, I won’t stop. Not until I’ve unraveled every little guarded piece of you, not until my touch is so deeply imprinted into your skin that even when I’m not there, you’ll still feel me. My hands on your hips, my fingers tracing slow, lazy circles up your spine, my lips ghosting over yours just to make you wait a little longer, just to hear that soft, impatient sound you make when you want more. And when I do finally give in? Oh, sweetheart… you will know—body, mind, and soul—just how deep my devotion runs."

PILE 2

"You drive me crazy, you know that? It’s not just the way you look—though, trust me, that alone is enough to make my thoughts dangerous. It’s the way you move, the way you carry yourself like you know exactly what you’re worth. That quiet confidence, that effortless allure—it’s infuriating. Because it makes me restless, makes me reckless. I catch myself watching you when I shouldn’t, leaning in closer just to catch the scent of your skin, clenching my fists to stop myself from reaching out and pulling you into me like it’s my right. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? It should be. You should be mine. And yet, here I am, pacing the edge of my own self-control, caught somewhere between wanting to savor every moment and wanting to pin you against the nearest wall just to see how quickly I can make you unravel.

"You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined it—the moment I stop fighting this, the moment I finally let myself have you. The tension between us is unbearable, crackling in the air like a live wire, waiting for the right spark to set it all ablaze. And when it happens? When I finally let go? It won’t be some careful, delicate thing. No, it will be electric. Desperate hands, impatient lips, bodies pressing so close that the world outside ceases to exist. I want to hear your breath hitch when I whisper against your skin, want to see that sharp flash of surprise in your eyes when I finally break past that composure you wear so well. I know you feel it too, that need, that ache that’s been building between us like a storm on the horizon. And when it hits? There will be no stopping it.

"And after? Oh, don’t think for a second I’ll be done with you. No, I’ll have you wrapped in my arms, your body still humming with the aftermath, my fingers tracing lazy patterns against your bare skin like I’m committing you to memory. I’ll watch the way your lashes flutter, the way your lips part ever so slightly, like you’re still trying to catch your breath. And I’ll smirk—because I’ll know. I’ll know that I’ve ruined you in the best possible way. And when you finally close your eyes, thinking you’ll get a moment of rest? That’s when I’ll lean in, lips brushing against your ear, and whisper, ‘You didn’t actually think I was finished with you yet, did you?’"

PILE 3

"You test me. You push me. And I don’t even think you realize it. Do you know how hard it is to sit back and watch you move through the world like you don’t belong to me? To watch other people steal your time, your attention, while I have to sit there and pretend like it doesn’t drive me insane? I don’t do well with restraint—I never have. I’m a person who sees what they want and takes it, no hesitation, no second-guessing. But you… you make me hesitate. You make me wait. And I hate waiting. I hate the space between us, the distance I have to keep when all I want to do is pull you into me and remind you exactly who you belong to. Because you do belong to me, don’t you? Even if you don’t realize it yet, even if you keep playing this dangerous little game of making me work for it—you feel it too. I know you do."

"I’ve imagined it too many times—crossing that line, claiming what’s already mine. And trust me, when that moment comes, I won’t be gentle. I won’t be soft. Not at first. No, the first time I take you, I’ll make damn sure you feel it, that you know there is no one else who can touch you the way I can, who can own you the way I will. I can already picture it—my hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against me, the sharp little gasp you’ll make when I finally stop holding back. My fingers tilting your chin up just enough so you have no choice but to meet my eyes, so you can see the storm you’ve been stirring inside me all this time. And when I kiss you? It won’t be sweet. It won’t be careful. It will be a claim, a warning, a promise. Because once I have you, I’m never letting you go."

"And after? I’ll keep you close, one arm draped possessively around your waist, my fingers tracing idle patterns against your bare skin. I’ll watch you, the rise and fall of your breath, the way you still glow from what we just did. And just when you think I’ve finally calmed, finally had my fill? I’ll lean in, lips grazing the shell of your ear as I whisper, ‘You thought I was finished? No, sweetheart… we’ve only just begun.’"

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[astrcmoni]

⭒✮⭒ good kisser ⭒✮⭒

MASTERLIST

synopsis: what starts as a simple trip to visit her family in georgia takes an unexpected turn when billie crosses paths with you—a mystery she can’t unravel, a pull she can’t ignore, and a connection that feels as inevitable as it is dangerous.

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive smut

pairing: cowgirl!fem!reader x billie eilish

wc: 14.1k

warnings: cowgirl!au, cussing, brief mentions of death, various confrontations, mentions of a gun, annoying ass ex, unwanted attention from a man, making out. thats it i think.

authors note: pay close attention to figure out what’s going on. this was inspired by the movie holes as well as the song good kisser by usher. let me know if you guys want the lore behind this fic. also ignore the spacing i had to make the words fit somehow😭

the truck rumbles over the uneven dirt road, the hum of the tires blending with the cicadas’ song. the late afternoon heat seeps through the windows, thick and cloying, settling into the fabric of the seats. billie is slouched in the back, limbs heavy, exhaustion pressing into her bones. her earbuds do little to drown out the tangled sounds of her family—laughter, chatter, the occasional clang of something shifting in the trunk. she prays it’s not her luggage getting battered against the walls.

her uncle’s deep voice rises and falls, weaving through the warm drawls of her cousins as they catch her up on the latest gossip from a town she barely remembers. he grips the wheel with one hand, the other draped lazily over the doorframe, fingers tapping against the sun-warmed metal. wisps of blonde peek out from beneath a sweat-stained baseball cap, blue eyes sharp as he navigates the bumpy terrain with the ease of someone who’s done this drive a thousand times. the lines around his mouth deepen when he chuckles, the sound rolling and familiar, blending seamlessly with the drone of tires against gravel.

billie offers a polite nod or a faint smile when someone glances her way, but her mind is elsewhere.

her forehead rests against the window, the glass cool against her sun-heated skin. outside, the landscape unfurls in slow motion—rolling hills stretching into the distance, pastures bathed in gold beneath the weight of a fading sun. a lone bird cuts across the sky, wings outstretched, black against the light. it feels like another world entirely, so far from the tangled skyline and neon hum of los angeles.

her music sputters, the connection straining in the vastness of the countryside. the song plays smoothly for a moment, then stutters, catching on itself like a scratched record. the buffering icon spins, lazy and mocking.

she sighs, eyes flicking to the single, flickering signal bar. useless.

with a huff, she swipes out of the app, shutting her phone off and tugging her headphones down around her neck. now she has nothing to drown out the voices in the front seat, nothing to muffle the weight of this unfamiliar place pressing down on her.

her cousins are still talking, voices rising and falling in easy rhythm. she listens despite herself, catching pieces of a story about someone named tommy—how he roughed up some guy last week, something about money, something about a warning.

“you okay, hun?”

billie blinks, her head snapping up at the sound of her aunt’s voice. her gaze finds the rearview mirror, hazel eyes meeting hers in the reflection. there’s something knowing in her stare, something gentle.

“mhm,” billie hums, offering a small nod.

her aunt may doesn’t press, just shifts slightly in her seat, her red hair catching in the wind that filters through the open window. the sunlight turns it to fire, burning bright against the dust-speckled air. her feet are propped up on the dashboard, elbow resting against the frame of the truck, the picture of effortless comfort. her eyes flick to the mirror every so often, watching, checking.

beside her, the twins are deep in conversation. savannah, all strawberry-blonde waves and quick hands, gestures wildly as she speaks, her words tumbling out in a rush. carter, sprawled back against the seat, listens with a lazy smirk, his greenish-hazel eyes shifting between her and the passing scenery.

“so tommy beat the shit outta that guy last week,” carter says, stretching his legs out with an amused huff. “had him beggin’. ”

savannah scoffs. “well, he had it comin’. dumbass thought he could rip him off and just walk away.”

“language, you two,” their mother chides, voice light but firm.

“sorry,” they mutter in unison, sheepish but unbothered.

the truck finally rolls to a stop in front of the ranch, dust curling up around the tires, hanging thick in the heat. billie stretches her legs before the door even swings open, her body stiff from the long ride.

her uncle travis steps out first, the gravel crunching beneath his boots. he slams the door shut, then cups a hand around his mouth.

“dj! come help your cousin with her bags!”

the screen door creaks open, and out steps dj. auburn hair catching in the dying sunlight, hazel eyes sharp and steady as they scan the yard. she wipes her hands on a towel slung over her shoulder, moving down the steps with an easy kind of confidence, like she’s never known the feeling of being out of place. she’s only a year older than billie, but something about the way she carries herself makes the distance between them feel wider.

“you get shorter, billie?” dj teases, a smirk tugging at her lips.

billie rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she steps out onto the dirt. “you get uglier?”

dj barks out a laugh, tossing the towel over her shoulder. “nah, still the prettiest thing in town.”

billie snorts, and for the first time since she got in the truck, she feels something settle in her chest—something lighter, something almost like home.

dj rolls her eyes, but there’s a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she steps forward, pulling billie into a quick, firm hug. her arms are strong, familiar, smelling of sun-warmed cotton and leather, the faintest trace of hay clinging to her shirt.

“what’s up, city girl?” dj teases, pulling back, one brow raised. “finally decided to come hang out with us country folk?”

billie huffs a tired laugh. “something like that.”

dj reaches for one of billie’s bags, hoisting it out of the truck bed with ease. the twins, still loitering nearby, exchange a look before savannah leans in toward her brother, voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper. whatever she says makes carter snort, shaking his head.

“how was the flight?” dj asks, shifting the bag onto her shoulder.

billie groans. “long. i swear, if i had to sit next to that crying baby for one more hour—”

“oh, look,” carter interrupts from the porch, grinning as he leans lazily against the railing. “dj’s killer girlfriend is back in town.”

savannah snickers, blue eyes bright with mischief. “should we start planning the wedding?”

dj shoots them both a glare, her grip tightening on the strap of billie’s bag. “shut the hell up.”

carter only smirks wider. “what? it’s true. haven’t seen her around much lately, but people still talk.”

billie, now intrigued, raises a brow. “who?”

the twins glance at each other again before savannah jerks her chin toward the neighboring ranch, just across the dirt road.

“her.”

billie follows their gaze. standing in the middle of a sun-drenched field, a sleek black horse grazes lazily, its coat gleaming like oil beneath the fading light. beyond it, the ranch stretches out—fenced-in pastures, a weathered stable, a house tucked away behind it all, its porch wrapped in shadow.

carter crosses his arms. “she’s got the black horse. a real nice one. she takes good care of it, though.”

dj shifts uncomfortably, adjusting the strap of billie’s bag. “don’t listen to them.”

savannah ignores her. “people say she’s dangerous.”

carter nods. “no one really knows what she does when she’s not here, but when she is…” he trails off, letting the words settle like dust in the heat.

dj exhales sharply, her jaw tight. “you two sound like every old drunk at the bar.”

“just sayin’,” savannah mutters, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in her expression now.

dj’s patience snaps. “don’t just say. y’all steady talkin’ like you don’t know her yourselves. shut the hell up and take the rest of billie’s stuff inside.” her voice is edged, firm, and the look she gives them isn’t one to challenge.

the twins exchange one last glance before sighing, heads ducking slightly as they grab the rest of the luggage. their movements are slower now, quieter—like scolded puppies slinking away.

billie watches them disappear into the house before turning back to dj, curiosity curling tight in her chest.

“what’s your deal?” she asks, watching as dj slams the truck’s trunk shut, the sound ringing out into the still evening.

dj doesn’t answer at first, just exhales sharply through her nose. “she’s just not someone you should mess around with, that’s all.”

which, of course, only makes billie more interested.

she casts one last glance toward the neighboring ranch. the black horse stands motionless now, ears flicking, as if sensing her gaze.

instead of heading inside, she sets her bags down near the porch and starts across the road.

dj stiffens. “billie, i’m serious.”

billie lifts a hand in dismissal. “i’m just saying hi.”

dj curses under her breath but doesn’t follow.

as billie moves closer, the air shifts. the heat is heavier here, the cicadas louder, their buzzing tangled in the dry breeze. the fences are worn, but sturdy. the stable door hangs slightly ajar, dark inside, like a mouth left open mid-sentence. the house beyond it is quiet. too quiet.

she slows her steps, her shoes kicking up dust.

her curiosity hums beneath her skin, insistent.

something about this place feels like a held breath.

she keeps walking.

the black horse lifts its head when billie approaches, ears flicking forward, nostrils flaring slightly as it takes in her scent. the late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the pasture, bathing the world in gold, turning the dust at her feet into something almost ethereal.

“hey there,” she murmurs, reaching out, fingers just grazing the stallion’s sleek coat, warm beneath her touch.

the moment barely settles before a voice cuts through the stillness, sharp and unwavering.

“who in the hell said you could touch my horse?”

billie startles, turning on instinct. you’re standing a few feet away, a bag of supplies slung carelessly in one hand, the other resting against your hip. dark jeans worn in all the right places, scuffed boots that have seen miles of dirt roads, rolled-up sleeves revealing the kind of forearms that come from real work, not gym hours.

the sun catches on the angles of your face—sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, eyes that narrow just slightly, unreadable. your expression is the kind that makes people second-guess their presence. makes them wonder if they’ve overstayed a welcome that was never there in the first place.

billie swallows, suddenly aware of how dry her mouth is. “sorry,” she says quickly, pulling her hand back. “i just got here for the summer. wanted to introduce myself.”

your gaze flicks over her, slow and unimpressed. “that don’t explain why you’re over here on my property. hands all over my damn horse.”

billie scratches the back of her neck, trying for a smile. “didn’t think he’d mind.”

you step closer, the distance between you shrinking to something taut and charged. the air shifts, thickens. billie feels it settle against her skin, the weight of your stare pressing in.

“well, i do.”

a pause, then her voice, quieter now. “what’s his name?”

your fingers flex against the bag in your hand before your gaze flickers briefly toward the stallion.

“…storm. his name is storm.”

billie exhales through her nose, the corner of her mouth tugging up. “fitting.”

you don’t respond, just click your tongue, turning your attention back to the horse, adjusting the bridle with practiced ease. there’s a familiarity in the way your hands move, in the way storm settles beneath your touch. billie watches, her curiosity growing roots, tangling into something deeper.

then you glance past her, your expression shifting, flattening into something edged.

“tell your cousin to stop staring at me.”

billie frowns, following your gaze. sure enough, dj is leaning against the porch railing, arms crossed, eyes locked onto the two of you with something unreadable simmering beneath her stare.

billie sighs, turning back to you. “just ignore her.” a beat, then, “what’s the history between you two anyway?”

your lips curl—not quite a smirk, not quite a smile. something in between. something knowing.

“ask her.”

before billie can push further, dj is suddenly beside her, voice firm. “alright, let’s go.”

her grip on billie’s arm is tight, not quite rough, but close enough. an insistence, a warning. but billie doesn’t move, brows pulling together.

“we were talking.”

dj’s gaze flicks to you, then back. her voice drops, steady. “and now you’re not.”

you let out a quiet, amused breath, rolling your eyes. “good lord.”

dj exhales sharply, like she’s trying to rein something in. her voice is lower now, almost like she doesn’t want billie to hear. “i don’t know what you think you’re doing, but it’s not gonna work.”

your smirk deepens, arms crossing over your chest as you lean against the fence. “yeah? and what exactly do you think i’m doing?”

dj steps in closer, the air between you charged. “don’t play dumb. you always do this—pop back up like nothing happened, like you didn’t leave shit all messy the last time.”

billie shifts beside her, confused. “okay, am i the only one not following this conversation?”

you don’t acknowledge her. your eyes stay locked on dj, steady, unreadable.

“your cousin loves running her mouth, but she don’t ever say nothing real.”

dj lets out a dry laugh, tilting her chin up. “and you love pretending like shit don’t stick.”

you push off the fence, stepping into her space just enough. enough to force her to make a choice—stand her ground or back up. she doesn’t move.

“if you got something to say, i suggest you say it. or is your little audience making you nervous?”

dj’s jaw tightens, but her voice lowers, words meant only for you. “i know exactly what you are.”

a slow grin spreads across your lips, something lazy, something dangerous. “then you should know better than to step to me like this.”

the air crackles, thick with something unsaid, something old. something neither of you are willing to be the first to name.

then—

the screen door slams.

“dj!��� may’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade. “you better leave that woman alone and come inside.”

your expression doesn’t shift, but you glance toward the porch, raising a hand in greeting.

“hi, ms. may.” your voice is softer now, almost polite, but there’s something else lurking beneath it. something unreadable.

your eyes cut back to dj’s.

“better get going, don’t wanna worry your dear mama, now do we?”

your tone is smooth, but the bitterness seeps through the cracks.

dj’s mouth presses into a thin line. “yeah, well, at least i have one. last time i checked, where’s yours?”

the words land heavy, sharper than they should be, and even dj looks like she wants to snatch them back.

your head jerks slightly, like the hit lands somewhere deep. for a second—just a second—your smirk falters, the cocky edge dulling into something raw. something open.

“what the fuck, dj?” billie’s voice cuts in, sharp with disbelief.

you lift a hand, almost like you’re about to touch dj’s chest, but it never lands. instead, your fingers curl into a loose fist before falling back to your side.

your voice is quiet now, nothing like before. “that’s enough. go home.”

but dj doesn’t move. doesn’t back down. instead, she steps in again, breath coming out a little harder. “not such a hard-ass now, are you? you—”

“enough.”

this time, your voice is quiet, but firm, final. your index and middle fingers press into her chest just enough to make space, to remind her where the line is.

“dallas, go home. both of you.”

dj exhales sharply, then steps back, her jaw tight. she doesn’t say another word, just shakes her head slightly before turning toward the house.

billie hesitates, eyes flicking back to you, like she wants to say something. like she’s still trying to figure out exactly what just happened.

but you don’t look at her. don’t acknowledge the weight of her stare. you just turn back to your horse, the whole thing slipping off your shoulders like it never happened.

except, it did.

the air is thick as billie follows dj toward the house, silence stretching between them. the only sound is the crunch of gravel beneath their boots, the hum of cicadas in the distance.

billie’s mind is still turning over the moment, replaying it, pulling it apart.

but the thought that lingers the longest, the one that sticks to her ribs—

what the fuck just happened?

the screen door creaks as dj reaches for the knob, shoving it open and disappearing down the hall. a door shuts with a muted slam—not loud enough to be defiant, but enough to make a point. billie watches her go, jaw tight, before exhaling through her nose. the weight in the air lingers even after she’s gone.

her eyes roam the house, scanning over the framed photos lining the walls, the worn wooden floors, the little marks of life scattered throughout the space. it’s been years since she was last here, yet everything still feels the same—like time doesn’t move the way it should in this house.

she slides her foot behind the other, toe hooking at her heel, before slipping off her shoes and setting them neatly by the door. the air is thick with the smell of something rich and homey simmering on the stove, a scent that settles deep in her chest, stirring something old and familiar.

outside, the sun sinks behind the georgia horizon, spilling liquid gold through the blinds, slicing the walls into slats of light and shadow. the sky is a mess of tangerine and violet, the last gasps of daylight stretching thin. the colors shift slowly, bleeding into one another, swallowing the land in a slow-burning glow.

the house hums with quiet movement. the soft clatter of a knife hitting the cutting board, the steady boil of water, the shuffle of feet against the floor. billie follows the sounds to the kitchen, fingers grazing the edges of picture frames as she passes, tracing over time itself. she pauses at one photo—her younger self, nine years old, hair a wild mess, chocolate smeared at the corners of her mouth. dj sits beside her, equally messy, their grins so wide they look like they ache. finneas stands behind them, hands resting on their shoulders, caught mid-laugh.

billie remembers that day. the summer of 2010. her parents had dragged her across the country for a family reunion, her first real introduction to this side of her roots. back when dj was just dj—back before things got messy.

she lets out a slow breath and moves on, fingers trailing along the faded growth chart scratched into the wall, numbers marking years of childhood in different colors of ink. her name is there too, though fainter, proof that she once belonged to this house, if only for a moment.

in the kitchen, may stands at the counter, slicing potatoes with practiced ease. she glances up briefly, eyes flicking over billie before turning back to her work.

“hey, do you mind cleanin’ up and helping me with dinner?” may asks, her voice light but expectant. “the twins are outside with travis, and dj’s, well… you know.”

billie nods, stepping forward to wash her hands. the warm water runs over her fingers, grounding her. she rolls up her sleeves, reaches for a potato, and makes the first incision, peeling the skin back in smooth ribbons. they fall into an easy rhythm—billie peeling, may chopping, the quiet stretching comfortably between them.

for a while, it’s just the sound of the knife against the board, the bubbling pot on the stove, the distant laughter of kids outside. then may breaks the silence.

“you know,” she starts, voice softer now, “it wasn’t always like that between them.”

billie stills, knife pausing mid-peel. she glances at her aunt, waiting.

“they been best friends since the beginning of time,” may continues, shaking her head slightly. “and they were together for a while. two years, almost.”

billie blinks. the words settle heavy in her chest. she knew there was history, but not like that.

may sighs, setting down the knife. she moves to the stove, sliding the potatoes into the pot before grabbing a bowl covered with a damp towel. she pushes it toward billie and retrieves a stick of butter from the fridge.

billie pulls back the towel, fingertips grazing the soft, risen dough. she watches as may butters a pan, waiting for her to continue.

“but things change,” may says simply. “people change. and their relationship went sour.” she kneads the dough with steady hands, her movements slow and deliberate. “one night, they had a big fight. a bad one. don’t nobody know what it was about, ’cause dj won’t talk and that girl sure as hell ain’t sayin’ a word.”

billie rolls the dough between her palms, watching how it folds over itself, how it yields to pressure but never loses its form.

“and i think that was her last straw,” may murmurs. “’cause ever since then, she done cut everybody off. comes and goes as she pleases, don’t ever talk to nobody unless she has to. she lives right next door, and i ain’t seen her step foot in this house in god knows how long.”

may shakes her head, rolling the dough a little rougher now. “so now i gotta make excuses. like this,” she gestures to the half-made dinner between them, “just to go see her.”

a silence settles between them, thick with something unspoken. billie turns may’s words over in her mind.

she hesitates, then asks, “so… do you think it’s true? you know, the killing stuff.”

may’s hands still, her sharp hazel eyes cutting over to billie. there’s something dark in her expression, something fiercely protective.

“hell no,” she says, voice low, firm. “uh-uh. no way. those rumors? started by a bunch of no-good folks who like to prey on somebody’s grief. they don’t know shit. they just like to talk, to stir up trouble.” she picks up the butter knife again, presses it against the dough with more force than necessary. “one day, they gon’ get what’s comin’ to ’em if they don’t shut the hell up with all that bullshit.”

billie swallows, nodding. her aunt’s words settle deep in her bones, but they don’t quite shake the feeling in her gut.

they work in silence after that, finishing up dinner as the sun outside finally disappears, leaving only the hum of cicadas and the distant rumble of an oncoming storm.

billie’s mind drifts back to you.

there’s something about you, but she still doesn’t know what.

the following days move in slow, hazy waves, each one bleeding into the next. billie spends most of her time trailing behind her uncle, helping around the ranch, or dodging dj’s moods. the tension from that night still clings to the air, stretching thin between them, unspoken but heavy.

but the one thing she notices—no matter where she is, no matter what she’s doing—is you.

you’re never in the same place for long. she catches glimpses of you moving through town, slipping into stores and out of sight before anyone can stop you. sometimes, she spots your truck kicking up dust down the dirt roads, music thumping faintly through the open windows. other times, she just hears your name in passing, hushed voices weaving together pieces of a story she still can’t make sense of.

and yet, despite all of that, you never come around. not to dj’s place, not to may’s kitchen, not even when the sun sinks low and the porch lights flicker on like an unspoken invitation.

the house is quiet when billie wakes, the kind of quiet that settles thick in the early hours of the morning. the sky outside is a deep shade of blue, the horizon barely kissed by the first traces of sunlight. she doesn’t know why she’s up—maybe the restless heat of summer, maybe just habit—but she swings her legs out of bed anyway, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she heads downstairs.

the kitchen is dim, only a sliver of light cutting through the blinds. she grabs a glass from the counter, filling it with water from the sink, but just as she lifts it to her lips, movement outside catches her eye.

you.

you’re by the stables, moving with that same quiet, effortless ease she’s seen a handful of times before. the saddle rests in the crook of your arm, your other hand brushing over your horse’s side in a way that looks almost second nature, like you belong here, like the land and the creatures on it are an extension of yourself.

billie sets her glass down, her breath catching for just a second, like her body had been holding onto something it didn’t realize it had let go of. she can’t stop herself, and before she knows it, she’s pulling her clothes on and slipping outside, the cool morning air curling around her, brushing against her skin, mingling with the dust of the earth beneath her feet. each step toward the stables is light, calculated, like she’s stepping through a dream she doesn’t want to wake up from. but you don’t seem surprised when you glance up.

“what are you doin’?” billie asks, her voice still thick with sleep, raspy and half-formed.

you adjust the straps on your saddle, barely sparing her a glance. “what’s it look like?”

billie runs a hand through her hair, glancing at the familiar sway of your movements, the way you handle your horse with such ease. “do you always ride this early?”

“depends.”

“on what?”

finally, you look at her—really look at her, like you’re trying to read her all over again, your gaze lingering a moment too long before it moves past her, steady and unflinching.

“depends on whether or not i feel like answering questions at this hour.”

billie leans against the stable door, crossing her arms. “you always this grumpy?”

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head but not offering a full smile. “do you always ask this many questions this early?”

billie tilts her head, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face. “maybe.” she watches you for a moment before she adds, with a teasing spark, “let me come with you.”

your brows lift just a fraction, an unreadable expression passing over your face. “why?”

billie shrugs, her fingers brushing against the rough wood of the stable. “why not? we could play twenty-one questions or something.”

you study her, your eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing her words, but the corners of your mouth twitch up into something of a smile.

“just how old are you?” you ask, half-smirking, like you’re daring her to keep this up.

“i’m twenty-three, you?” she retorts, a smug, challenging smile tugging at her lips as she expertly deflects the subtle jab.

there’s a beat of silence, and then, just as quickly, a small smirk pulls at the corner of your lips.

“alright,” you say, swinging yourself up onto the saddle with a practiced, fluid motion, as though you were born to move like this. “you can tag along, if you can keep up that is.”

billie doesn’t hesitate. she moves quickly, heading toward the nearest stall. she grabs the reins of her uncle’s horse, her fingers brushing over the worn leather, feeling the familiar tension in the saddle as she swings herself up with an ease that surprises even her. the muscle memory kicks in almost immediately, grounding her as her feet settle into the stirrups. you’re already moving, not waiting for her to catch up.

billie clicks her tongue, urging her horse forward as she takes off after you, the cool morning air rushing against her skin. the golden glow of the sunrise stretches across the open fields, the colors turning the horizon into an abstract painting—reds, purples, and soft oranges blending into one another. she focuses, forcing herself to concentrate on the rhythm of the ride, on the sound of hooves pounding the earth beneath her, the echo of your horse’s gallop ahead of her.

the silence stretches between you both for a while, just the sound of hooves against dirt and the steady rhythm of your horses moving in sync. but eventually, billie breaks the silence.

“so what, you just ride out here by yourself all the time?”

you keep your eyes ahead, barely glancing at her. “sometimes.”

“ever bring anyone else?”

you shoot her a look, sharp but playful, a glimmer of amusement flashing in your eyes. “you’re askin’ a lot of questions again.”

billie grins, leaning forward slightly, her body shifting with the rhythm of the horse beneath her. “that’s the point. just trying to get to know you.”

your lips twitch like you’re fighting back a smirk, but you remain silent, your eyes trained on the horizon. instead, you give your horse a quick nudge, urging him to pick up speed.

billie huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “oh, it’s like that, huh?”

you glance back over your shoulder, your expression half-masked by the wind whipping around you, but the amusement is unmistakable. “c’mon, i told you to keep up.”

and then, just like that, you’re gone. the sound of hooves grows distant, leaving billie to scramble, to push herself harder, faster, as the wind roars in her ears and the open field stretches wide before her. she’s not letting you win, not when it feels like she’s finally found a challenge worth chasing.

with a sharp exhale, she digs her heels into the sides of her horse, urging it faster. her heart beats in time with the gallop, her breath steady as she closes the distance between you. she catches sight of your silhouette again, outlined in the early morning light, and for a second, she swears she sees a flash of something—joy, maybe? or something deeper. but before she can catch her breath or dwell on it too long, she pushes herself harder, the space between you shrinking with every stride.

soon, she’s even with you. just enough to catch the smirk playing at your lips, the subtle shift in your posture that betrays the challenge you’ve put out there.

“not bad,” you call, voice carried by the wind.

billie exhales a sharp laugh, her grin widening. “what, you thought i couldn’t ride?”

“never said that.”

“yeah, but you were thinkin’ it.”

you just hum, your gaze flicking ahead again as you steer your horse toward a small clearing in the distance. the sun is rising higher now, and the light seems to stretch out across the land, casting everything in a soft, golden glow. the air smells faintly of wildflowers and earth, the scent of morning fresh in every breath.

you lead the way into a hidden meadow, one billie hadn’t seen before, nestled between trees whose branches weave together above, casting dappled shadows over the ground. the grasses sway gently in the breeze, and the air is thick with the scent of green life, of something untouched.

you dismount with ease, guiding your horse toward a stream that trickles softly through the meadow. the water glistens in the light, reflecting the vivid colors of the earth and sky. billie follows suit, her legs stiff as she slides off her horse with a soft grunt, feeling the weight of the ride in her muscles.

the quiet of the meadow wraps around them like a blanket. billie stands beside you, her gaze drifting over the peaceful scene before her eyes fall on you again. you’re crouched by your horse, fingers working carefully through its mane, each movement deliberate, practiced.

billie sits down beside you, the cool grass soft against her legs. for a moment, neither of you speaks. the quiet stretches, filling the space between you, and despite the tension of the last few days, it feels like a rare kind of peace.

“jesus,” billie mutters after a while, breaking the silence. “i think my ass is permanently bruised.”

you snort, a dry laugh escaping you as you continue working with the horse’s mane. “yeah, well, ridin’ ain’t for the weak.”

you snort, settling onto the grass as you untie a loose braid in your horse’s mane. “yeah, well, ridin’ ain’t for the weak.”

billie doesn’t say anything at first, just takes a seat next to you, mirroring your posture. the silence between you both is calm, stretching, like the stillness of the earth at dusk, with only the rustling of leaves and the distant chirp of crickets filling the space.

she grumbles, rubbing her thigh before dropping down beside you. she leans back on her palms, exhaling slowly, as her eyes trace the fading light across the fields. “damn. this place is real pretty.”

“mhm,” you hum, eyes following the way the breeze moves through the trees, making the leaves shiver and whisper. you can almost hear the land breathe with you, like it’s been waiting for this moment to fall into a quiet that feels too rare.

billie tilts her head toward you, studying your face. there’s a certain way she looks at you—like she’s trying to understand something that might not be easy to explain. “you come out here often?”

“when i can,” you say, fingers still working through your horse’s mane. your hand moves with practiced ease, the bond between you and storm unspoken but undeniable. “it’s quiet. no one botherin’ me. just me and my horse.”

billie nods slowly, letting the silence stretch, letting it settle comfortably between you for a beat. then, with a small smirk, she nudges your arm, playful but thoughtful. “are you sure you’re not just avoiding people?”

you huff out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “there’s nothin’ wrong with wanting some peace and quiet.”

“yeah, but i don’t know,” billie says, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. “feels like there’s more to it.”

you don’t say anything at first, just let her words sit in the space between you both, heavy like the air before a storm. your eyes drift over the land, taking in the scenery, the blanket of quiet that’s settled over everything. there’s a sort of ache in the stillness, but it’s familiar, comforting in its own way.

but billie, ever curious, finally breaks the silence.

“your farm,” she starts, her voice light but edged with something thoughtful. “it’s empty compared to the others around here.”

you don’t move for a long moment, eyes fixed on the flowing water. the question doesn’t surprise you—it’s the kind of thing people always ask, but hearing it from billie feels different. her words settle, a quiet weight on your chest.

“yeah,” you murmur, picking at a blade of grass between your fingers. “that’s ‘cause we had to sell most of it. my dad—” you pause, exhaling slowly, trying to push the words out without letting them get tangled in your throat. “he was a musician. not exactly the most stable job when you’re trying to keep a farm running. and my mom… she was in the rodeo. damn good at it too.”

billie leans in slightly, listening intently, her focus unwavering.

“she kept everything together,” you continue, your voice steady but distant, as if the memory is both close and miles away. “but when she passed, it all started falling apart. bills piled up, and daddy… well, he tried, y’know? did everything he could. but eventually, he had to start selling off the land, the animals, anything we didn’t absolutely need.”

your fingers brush against storm, his dark coat soft beneath your touch, grounding you in the present. you focus on the sensation, trying to keep it from spiraling back into that place you don’t like to go.

“now, it’s just me and what little we’ve got left.” you look at storm again, a quiet ache in your chest as you find comfort in his presence.

billie doesn’t speak right away. she watches you, taking in the way your posture has shifted, the way your voice has softened. the usual sharpness in your tone is dulled now, replaced by something heavier, something more fragile, like a quiet thread that could snap if you tugged on it too hard.

“that’s a lot,” she says after a moment, her voice quieter than usual, as though she’s treading carefully around your pain.

you nod once, sliding your hands off your coat and letting them curl into the blades of grass beneath you. you feel the earth there, steady, unmoving. maybe you wish you could be like that sometimes.

“yeah.”

the meadow falls silent again, but this time, it’s different. the weight of your words lingers, but it’s not uncomfortable. billie doesn’t press, doesn’t push for more than you’re willing to give. she just sits there, her presence steady next to you, breathing in the same air, sharing the same space, the same history, the same grief. it’s enough for now.

after a while, she breaks the silence with something lighter, like a pebble thrown into the still water.

“so, what you’re saying is… you could’ve been a rodeo star?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes with a playful glance at her. “hold on now—i ain’t say all that.”

“nah, i bet you were real good,” she teases, grinning, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “i can see it now. you riding in all dramatic, wavin’ to the crowd, all eyes on you.”

you shake your head, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with the smallest hint of a smile. “you talk too much.”

“part of my charm,” she says easily, her grin widening.

you huff out a breath, pushing yourself up. “c’mon, we should head back.”

billie groans dramatically, throwing her head back in exaggerated defeat. “damn. was kind of hoping to stay out here just a little while longer.”

“nope,” you say, clicking your tongue to get your horse’s attention. the sound breaks the silence like a familiar rhythm. “sun’s up, and i know mr. travis has probably got some work for you to do.”

billie sighs, shoulders slumping like the weight of the world is on them, but she stands anyway, dusting off her jeans before climbing back onto her horse.

the ride back to the ranch is slow, the sun now fully risen, casting golden light over the open fields. the air is warm, thick with the scent of sun-warmed grass and damp earth. billie rides a little closer this time, your horses moving in rhythm, the soft thud of hooves in sync with the quiet, steady pulse of the morning. she glances at you every so often, like she’s got something on her mind, the corners of her lips tugging in subtle hesitation.

“so, uh,” she starts, adjusting her reins, eyes flickering to the horizon. “random question, but how do you feel about—like, i don’t know—eating plants?”

you cut her a sideways glance, brow furrowing in confusion. “eating plants?”

“yeah, like—” billie presses her lips together, her words hesitant, “i mean, i’m vegan.”

you pull on your reins slightly, slowing your horse just to give yourself a second to process. “you’re what?”

“vegan,” she repeats, dragging the word out like she’s bracing for impact, her gaze shifting away, taking in the sprawling landscape.

you blink. then blink again. “you’re tellin’ me you came all the way out here, ridin’ horses, stayin’ on a farm, and you don’t even eat meat?”

billie shrugs, a small, almost defiant gesture. “technically, it’s not really a farm anymore.”

you shake your head, a soft chuckle slipping from you, amusement tugging at the corner of your mouth. “that’s wild.”

“not really,” she says, grinning, her voice a little lighter now. “i just don’t see the point in eatin’ something with a face.”

“couldn’t be me,” you mutter, shaking your head with a smile that feels warmer than you expect.

billie laughs, a low, genuine sound that carries in the still morning air. she doesn’t push the topic further. instead, she shifts in her saddle, rolling her shoulders before speaking again, her tone lighter now, like the tension has eased just a little.

“so,” she starts, her words casual, like she’s asking about the weather. “my cousins told me there’s this little town event tonight. are you going?”

you adjust your grip on the reins, eyes fixed on the dirt path ahead, your horse’s hooves kicking up a trail of dust in the warm breeze. “maybe.”

“maybe?” billie echoes, tilting her head toward you, the question lingering between you, playful yet genuine. “that’s not a yes.”

you shrug, eyes narrowing slightly as you continue to lead your horse down the familiar stretch of road. “ain’t a no, either.”

billie hums thoughtfully, considering your words. the rhythmic clopping of hooves fills the space between you, soft and steady. the town event was just another yearly gathering—music, food, and an excuse for folks to catch up. you’d been to plenty before, but with everything on your plate, it hadn’t exactly been a priority this time. still, the thought of it lingers in the back of your mind, shifting like the breeze that ruffles your hair.

“why you ask?” you glance over at billie, curiosity creeping into your tone.

she shrugs, but there’s a glint of something in her eyes now, something playful, something sly. “can’t blame me for wantin’ to see a pretty face in town, now can you?”

you pause mid-step, your horse shifting beneath you, the sudden shift in the air catching you off guard. you turn to look at her, her gaze steady, a playful smirk on her lips.

you huff, shaking your head. “are you always this bold?”

billie smirks, nudging her horse forward as the ranch comes into view. “why? is it workin’?”

you roll your eyes, but a small smile betrays you, tugging at the corners of your mouth, the warmth creeping up your neck. something about her makes it hard to stay completely composed. the two of you ride in silence for the last stretch, the ranch growing larger as you approach, the familiar smells of hay and dust filling the air.

by the time you reach the ranch, the sun is higher in the sky, bathing everything in golden light, casting long shadows that stretch across the land. your horse slows to a stop near the fence, and you swing off with practiced ease. billie follows, though she takes a second longer, muttering something about her legs not working right after the long ride.

she lingers for a moment, rocking back and forth on the heels of her boots, a smirk still playing at her lips. then, with a casual tilt of her head, she looks at you. “so, tonight… you comin’ or what?”

you look at her, considering. the words hover on your lips, but for a moment, you just let the silence stretch between you, the sun at your back, the ranch before you. “i’ll think about it.”

billie grins like she already knows what your answer will be, her eyes sparkling with something mischievous. “i’ll see you there, then.”

and with that, she gives you one last lingering look, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you before she turns on her heel, heading back toward the house. you stand there for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin, a weird flutter in your chest, like the space between the two of you hasn’t quite closed yet.

you didn’t say yes.

but you sure as hell didn’t say no.

the rest of the afternoon billie spends helping her uncle with some work around the farm, though her mind keeps drifting back to your conversation. maybe. that’s all you gave her. no promise, no certainty—just maybe. and yet, it lingers in her thoughts, like an unfinished sentence hanging in the air. the farm feels quieter than usual, the distant hum of work beneath the weight of her uncertainty.

by the time the sun dips below the horizon, stretching shades of orange and purple across the sky, billie finds herself getting ready back at her uncle’s house. she pulls on a clean shirt, the fabric soft against her skin. she rolls up the sleeves just enough to keep cool, her movements deliberate, like she’s trying to prepare for something she’s not entirely sure of. she runs a hand through her hair in the small mirror by the door, the reflection staring back at her with an edge of doubt.

her aunt, may, passes by and raises an eyebrow. “you sure are fixin’ yourself up just to go to a town event.”

billie scoffs, shaking her head, but her voice softens a little, a flicker of defensiveness hidden under the surface. “there’s nothing wrong with wanting to look decent.”

may hums knowingly, the corners of her lips turning up in a knowing smile, but she doesn’t press. instead, she tosses billie a light jacket before nodding toward the front of the house. “dj’s out waitin’ on you. y’all don’t get into too much trouble, ya hear?”

“me? trouble?” billie grins as she shrugs on the jacket, the weight of her aunt’s words lingering longer than she expects. “never.”

may chuckles, shaking her head, and billie steps out onto the porch, the cool evening air brushing against her skin.

dj is already leaning against the fence, arms crossed, a bored expression on her face, as if she’s been waiting for ages. “took you long enough,” she mutters, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “you tryin’ to impress somebody or somethin’?”

billie rolls her eyes, stuffing her hands into her pockets, the motion automatic, like a shield she’s used to. “let’s just go.”

they set off down the dirt road, the warm night air wrapping around them like a soft blanket. the path into town is well-worn, the grass flattened from years of footsteps, an imprint of countless journeys. crickets hum in the distance, their song like a steady pulse in the background, and the occasional firefly flickers in and out of sight, like tiny stars caught in the evening breeze. it’s a short walk, barely fifteen minutes, but it gives billie time to get lost in her own thoughts.

dj notices.

“you’re thinkin’ ���bout her, aren’t you?”

billie doesn’t answer right away, just kicks at a loose rock on the path, her boots sending it skidding off into the darkness. “you always gotta run your mouth?”

dj laughs, a low, amused sound that cuts through the quiet. “when i’m right? yeah.”

billie exhales sharply, shaking her head, the air leaving her lungs in a huff. “she said maybe.”

“and you’re holdin’ onto it like it’s a damn promise.” dj shoots her a knowing look, her voice steady, almost too knowing for comfort. “look, i know her better than you do. and if she said maybe, it means no.”

billie doesn’t argue, but she also doesn’t agree. the words hang between them, but there’s something she’s not ready to let go of. instead, she just keeps walking, her thoughts swallowed by the rhythm of her footsteps, the sound of her boots against the dirt path. the tavern’s glow finally comes into view up ahead, warm and inviting, a sharp contrast to the coolness of the night air. it flickers like a promise, even though she knows better than to expect one.

the closer they get, the louder the night becomes—music drifting through the air, the steady hum of voices rising and falling like a pulse. billie can already see the crowd through the open doorway, bodies swaying on the dance floor, others gathered near the bar, laughter spilling into the warm evening air like a melody of its own.

as they step inside, the scent of whiskey and something fried clings to the air, filling her lungs with a sharp, familiar bite. billie takes it all in—the packed dance floor, the row of worn wooden stools lined up against the bar, the occasional clatter of pool balls from the back of the room. the atmosphere is thick, buzzing with energy, but billie’s mind is elsewhere, pulled in a direction she can’t quite shake.

she barely hesitates before scanning the crowd, her gaze flickering across the sea of faces, as though she’s searching for something—or someone.

dj notices that, too.

“she’s not comin’,” dj says, her voice cutting through billie’s quiet search. “i suggest you don’t get your hopes up.”

billie smirks, slipping her hands into her pockets as she leans against the bar. “or maybe,” she muses, tilting her head, “she is.”

dj exhales sharply, shaking her head as she orders a drink, her voice tinged with disbelief. “you’re impossible.”

billie doesn’t respond, just taps her fingers rhythmically against the counter, her gaze flickering back toward the door every so often, like the rhythm of the night is tied to the beat of her waiting.

and then—

the door swings open. and there you are.

standing just inside the threshold, framed by the dim, amber glow of the tavern lights. the room seems to shift around you, as though the space itself is adjusting to your presence. you scan the crowd, your expression unreadable, the quiet control you exude almost tangible.

dj notices first. she huffs out a quiet laugh. “well, i’ll be damned.”

billie grins, pushing off the bar slightly, her posture shifting as if she knew it all along. “told you. maybe ain’t a no.”

you’re dressed head-to-toe in all black. your long-sleeve shirt is tucked neatly into your jeans, the edges of your collar sharp against your throat, and a black belt cinches your waist, defining your silhouette. a cowboy hat sits low on your brow, casting a shadow over your sharp, unreadable expression. your chaps, draped over black denim, hug your legs in all the right places, the subtle swish of the fabric whispering as you move. the faint golden gleam of your belt buckle catches the light, but it’s the deep, sultry burgundy lipstick that steals the show, bold against the subtle darkness of your outfit.

billie swallows hard, her mouth suddenly dry, her breath caught on the edge of something unspoken.

the tavern shifts as you step inside, the energy crackling like a storm rolling in. people pause mid-conversation, eyes dragging over you, the hushed whispers slicing through the noise. it’s not just your presence—it’s the way you carry yourself, the effortless confidence, the unbothered aura that makes them stop, even for just a moment. you don’t need to try; they can’t help but look.

your eyes scan over the room until they land on billie, and when they do, your lips curl into the smallest, knowing smile—subtle, but impossible to miss.

billie, still leaning against the bar, watches you with something close to amusement, but there’s something else there, too—a hunger, a quiet longing that she doesn’t bother to hide.

you make your way over, your boots clicking against the wooden floor, each step cutting through the tension in the air, your presence undeniable. but as you draw closer, you feel another pair of eyes on you, heavy and knowing. your gaze flits over to your left, and there she is—dj, already looking at you, her gaze sharp as steel. the tension between you and her is thick, palpable, and it almost seems to snuff out your smile, just like that—flickering out like a candle’s flame in the wind.

you don’t stop walking, but there’s something stiff now in your posture, a tension that settles in your shoulders, your gaze hardening as it locks with hers.

“dj,” you greet, your voice even, but missing the warmth it had just moments ago, the friendliness gone, replaced by something cooler, more guarded.

dj dips her head in acknowledgment, shifting her weight slightly, her eyes flicking to billie and then back to you. “what’s up?” she says before taking her glass and knocking back her drink in one smooth motion.

there’s a beat of silence, thick and uncomfortable. then dj clears her throat, glancing toward the back of the tavern, the movement casual but deliberate. “i’m gonna go talk to amari.”

you just nod, your chin tilting in the slightest acknowledgment, though you know her announcement was meant for billie and not you. you don’t stop her, and neither does billie.

the air between you and billie is still, charged but unspoken, as dj walks off into the crowd, leaving both of you standing in the flickering light, surrounded by the hum of the tavern’s life.

once she’s gone, you and billie exchange a glance, one that carries the weight of unspoken understanding. the tension that hung in the air moments ago lingers, but it’s quickly brushed aside, buried beneath something lighter.

billie’s lips curl up, playful and easy. “you look nice.”

you tilt your head, smirking, a flicker of something in your eyes. “just nice?” you ask, your voice low, teasing. you do a slow, deliberate spin, letting the fabric of your clothes ripple as your hips sway with the motion, letting the room drink in your confidence. “you like it?”

billie exhales a soft laugh, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “yeah. you look real pretty,” her gaze drags over you, warm and appreciative, and she leans in slightly, her eyes lingering as she adds, “but i guess that’d be an understatement.”

“damn right it would.”

billie chuckles, tilting her head, a small smile curling on her lips. “you fishin’ for compliments?”

“if i was, would you give ‘em to me?”

billie doesn’t miss a beat, her response immediate, sure. “yeah.”

your smirk deepens, satisfaction humming through you. “figured. you don’t look too bad yourself.” your eyes trace the outline of her outfit, noticing the easy confidence she wears like a second skin. her blue plaid flannel looks soft, faded from time, its edges curling slightly at the sleeves, the worn fabric complimented by a white tank peeking through, the silver chain resting just above it, catching the low light.

the shift in the air between you both is palpable, a playful current that sparks and hums with unspoken words. you slide into the seat next to her, claiming the space once occupied by her cousin. your elbow rests on the worn wood of the bar, fingers drumming a slow, absent rhythm, as if the movement is just another part of the atmosphere now.

the bartender slides a basket of potato wedges across the counter, a quiet gesture that speaks volumes about the casual comfort of the place. he asks if you want anything to drink, and you don’t hesitate.

“sweet tea,” you say with a slight smile, watching him disappear behind the bar, the cool clink of ice filling the silence.

billie looks at you, curiosity in her gaze. “you don’t drink?”

“nah, that shit’s disgusting,” you reply, your nose scrunching up at the thought of anything stronger than tea. the word lingers between you, casual yet definitive.

billie watches you, her amusement flickering in her eyes. “so, no alcohol at all?”

“not my thing,” you mutter, sipping your drink once it arrives, the amber liquid cool against your lips, the black straw making soft sounds as it shifts in the glass. you swirl the ice, and the clink rings in the silence.

“what about special occasions?” billie presses, leaning in slightly, her eyes narrowing with playful intrigue.

you shake your head with a slow, deliberate motion. “nope.”

billie hums thoughtfully, tilting her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “so if i showed up at your birthday with a nice bottle, you wouldn’t take a sip?”

you raise a brow, the challenge clear in your eyes. “you plannin’ on showin’ up to my birthday?”

“maybe,” billie says, her grin widening, knowing the game she’s playing.

you huff a laugh, swirling the straw in your glass. “i’d take the bottle. give it to someone else, though.”

billie laughs at that, a warm, easy sound that fills the space between you. she grabs a potato wedge, dragging it through a small cup of ranch before popping it in her mouth. “so what do you like?”

“besides sweet tea?”

“yeah.”

you tap your fingers against the table, pretending to think. “long rides, warm nights, good music.”

billie’s lips curl into a smirk. “you sound like a country song.”

“and you sound like you don’t know what good music is.”

billie gasps, hand dramatically pressed to her heart. “wow. you wound me.”

“you’ll live.”

before billie can come up with a retort, the speakers crackle, and then the smooth, rich tones of a blues song fill the room. the bass hums, slow and steady, and the vocals pull at something deep within you, a familiar ache.

billie’s face lights up, her eyes shining with recognition. “oh, hell, i love this song.”

you pause, letting the sound wash over you. something flickers in your chest, a memory rising unbidden, soft but sure. “really?” you murmur, almost to yourself. “my daddy used to play this all the time when i was younger.”

billie leans in, drawn in by the quiet depth in your words. “yeah?”

you nod, your fingers lightly tapping the rim of your glass. “on this smooth black bass guitar. i used to sit by his feet, just listenin’ while he played. never got tired of it.”

billie smiles at you, her gaze warm, unguarded. “what’s your favorite part?”

you hum softly, considering. “probably the way the bass carries the whole thing. i mean, it’s just so damn sexy. you take that out, and the song wouldn’t hit the same.”

billie nods in agreement, her expression thoughtful. “yeah, you’re right. that deep groove just makes it.”

“exactly.”

you both fall into easy conversation, dissecting the song, the way it moves beneath the surface. it’s effortless, like finding a rhythm in the chaos, like something that’s always been there, waiting to be heard.

and then, just like that—

“you’re cute when you’re like this.”

the words are soft, easy, but they hit you with the force of a slow burn.

you blink, caught off guard. “huh?”

billie leans in, elbows on the table, chin resting in her hand as she regards you with an easy smile. “when you’re all into something. i dunno. it’s cute.”

your mouth opens slightly, but before you can even find your voice, your gaze flickers past billie’s shoulder.

dj.

she’s staring.

the easy warmth between you and billie evaporates, replaced by something colder, something sharper. the air shifts, and you find yourself straightening, your posture stiffening, your smile faltering. you clear your throat, the moment slipping through your fingers.

“uh—i’ll be right back,” you mutter, already standing.

billie watches you go, curiosity lingering in her gaze. but she doesn’t stop you.

you slip through the crowd, the steady beat of the music vibrating through the floor beneath you, boots heavy against the worn wood, the sound almost swallowed by the chatter and clinking glasses. the air smells of sweat, spilled liquor, and something faintly sweet, an odd cocktail of scents that make your skin feel sticky, like the night is wrapping itself around you.

dj is already moving before you even reach the hallway, her presence a shadow in the dim light. she falls into step behind you, her pace matching yours as you push through the bathroom door, the sound of it creaking on its hinges before slamming shut behind you.

you lean over the sink, the cool porcelain beneath your fingertips grounding you, the dim lighting casting a soft, golden hue across your reflection. the deep burgundy on your lips is striking, bold—a statement you didn’t even mean to make. but now, under the harsh light, it feels too loud, too much, like you’re wearing someone else’s face. something about it doesn’t sit right.

you grab a paper towel, wet it, and press it to your lips, gently wiping away the color, the faint scent of soap mingling with the metallic tang of the bathroom air. a quiet sigh escapes you as you take your time, removing the boldness until only a faint stain remains, something softer, quieter. reaching into your pocket, you pull out a sleek black tube, twisting it open, the motion smooth and practiced, like you’ve done this a thousand times. the new shade is just a tad bit lighter than the one you had on moments before, the deeper shade now tucked away in its golden case in your other pocket. you apply it with a practiced ease, rubbing your lips together, you flick your gaze back up to the mirror.

the door swings open with a crash, slamming against the wall, and you freeze, eyes narrowing before you turn.

dj.

she moves fast, crossing the bathroom in only a few steps, the space between you both closing like a predator closing in on prey.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she demands, her voice sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

you frown, tucking the lipstick back into your pocket and folding your arms across your chest. “excuse me?”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about,” dj hisses, her eyes flashing with something between anger and fear. she crosses her arms tightly, like she’s trying to keep herself together. “you need to stay away from billie.”

your confusion twists into irritation, the edges of it sharp, dangerous. “what? why the hell would i do that?”

“because,” dj says sharply, her voice low and dangerous, “you’re playing with fire, and you don’t even realize it.”

you scoff, leaning back against the sink, the cold touch of it pressing into your back. “look, i don’t know what your damn problem is, but i’m not bothering you. so how about you return the favor?”

“you’re not bothering me?” dj laughs, but it’s hollow, empty, and you know the words aren’t meant to be funny. “you’re out there, batting your lashes at billie like you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. what you’ve been doing.”

you narrow your eyes, taking a small step forward, your pulse quickening, the heat rising in your chest. “and what exactly do you think i’m doing?”

dj steps closer, her shoes scraping against the floor as she closes the distance. “don’t play dumb.”

you hold her gaze, unwavering. “i’m not playin’ anything. i’m minding my business. just like you should be doing.”

dj’s jaw tightens, her whole body coiled like a spring, ready to snap. “billie isn’t some random girl you can mess around with. she’s not—” she stops herself, exhaling sharply, biting back something heavy, something that’s been weighing on her for too long. “you just need to back off.”

your patience wears thin, the tension in the room curling around you like smoke.

“oh, back off?” your voice drops, low and sharp, every word a knife. you push off the sink, your fingers curling into fists by your sides. “and what exactly gives you the right to tell me what to do? last time i checked, i make my own damn choices.”

“and you’re making a mistake,” dj snaps, her voice tight with something she can’t hide.

“you don’t know shit about what you’re talking about.” you snap back, the words bitter and cold.

dj shakes her head, her eyes wide with frustration. “i know enough. i swear to god, if you hurt her—”

you let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head, exhaling through your nose. the sound is empty, but something dangerous lingers in it.

then, your voice drops to a low growl, steady and calm, “and i swear to god, dallas joelle, if you don’t back the fuck up out of my face—”

the use of her full name cuts through the air like a slap. dj freezes, her posture going rigid, her breath hitching in her chest. you watch as the words land, the shift in her body language like a brick wall slamming into place.

but you don’t wait for her to respond, turning on your heel and pushing past her, the tension still hanging thick in the air. you can feel her eyes on your back, but you don’t turn around. not now. not yet.

the bar is thick with cigarette smoke and the sticky scent of cheap whiskey, the air pulsing with music too loud for the space. you move through the crowd, heat buzzing beneath your skin, but it’s not from the alcohol or the night’s tension. it’s from the sight of billie at the bar, her posture stiff, her gaze set forward, ignoring the man leaning into her space like he belongs there.

reggie.

his breath reeks of liquor and bad decisions, his voice dripping with the kind of charm that curdles in your stomach.

“hey, sweetheart,” he drawls, grinning wide enough to flash the gold in his mouth. “you know, a girl like you shouldn’t be out here alone. i got plenty of time. could use a drink, maybe some company.”

billie doesn’t even blink. doesn’t turn her head. “i’m good.”

reggie chuckles, like this is a game and she’s just playing hard to get. “you sure? ‘cause you look like you could use some company.”

his fingers ghost too close to her arm, and you see it—the way her jaw clenches, the way her shoulders go taut beneath her leather jacket.

your stomach tightens.

billie rolls her eyes, shifts to stand, but reggie steps in her way, tilting his head, all confidence and no sense.

“c’mon now, don’t be like that,” he presses, voice syrupy. “i got plenty to offer—check this out.” he lifts his wrist, flashing a thick gold watch, letting the dim light catch on the metal.

billie doesn’t spare it a glance. “i said, i’m good.”

but reggie just grins wider, because he’s the type who never takes no for an answer.

“c’mon now, don’t be like that. you’re new ‘round here, ain’t you? you oughta let someone show you a good time.” he

billie exhales sharply through her nose, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “yeah? you know someone?”

his smile falters just a bit, but before he can respond, a voice cuts through the tension.

“reggie.”

he turns, his smug expression shifting the second he sees you. dj lingers behind you, but this isn’t her fight. it’s yours.

reggie’s lips curl into something too familiar, too easy. “well, look who it is. where’s that southern hospitality, huh?”

“you can take it and shove it up your ass,” you say, voice cool, steady.

he lets out a low chuckle, tilting his head. “damn, girl, now is that how you greet an old friend?”

“we ain’t friends.”

his grin doesn’t waver. “aw, don’t be like that. used to be real sweet to me, remember?” he tuts, shaking his head. “what happened?”

“my daddy realized you ain’t shit.”

dj shifts, ready to step in, but you’re quicker—you put your hand out to stop her, letting her know that you don’t need her.

reggie hums, rubbing his jaw like he’s considering something. “you always had a smart mouth on you. i like that.”

you don’t flinch. “leave her alone.”

he tilts his head toward billie, barely sparing you a glance. “just bein’ friendly.”

“ain’t nobody want your friendliness,” you bite out. “why don’t you go home to your wife and kids?”

his smile tightens. “my family is none of your damn business.”

you fold your arms, tilting your head. “you sure about that? ‘cause you make it my business, steady lurkin’ around bars, tryin’ to holler at women who don’t want you.”

his nostrils flare, irritation creeping into his expression, but then his eyes flick to your hip, catching the glint of your gun.

his lips part, just slightly.

he exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “now what’s a pretty thing like you doin’ with a piece like that?” he tuts, his bravado inching toward something meaner. “you don’t need them kinda toys, baby. what you need is a real man to—”

your laughter cuts him off, sharp and sudden.

“real man?” you mock, glancing around like you’re looking for one. “where?”

a few men at a nearby table stifle their laughs, and reggie’s jaw flexes.

“watch your mouth,” he warns.

you take a step closer, voice dropping, steady as stone.

“get on before i use it on you.”

reggie’s nostrils flare. “ the fuck you just say to me?”

you don’t blink. “i said get. the fuck. on.” your voice is calm, steady, but there’s a razor-sharp edge to it, something unshakable.

the way you say it—the certainty, the weight behind the words—makes something flicker in his eyes. a hesitation. a calculation.

his fingers curl into fists at his sides, but after a long, simmering moment, he scoffs, clicking his tongue. “ain’t worth my damn time.”

he turns on his heel and stalks off.

you don’t bother watching him go. instead, you turn to billie.

“you good?”

billie exhales, like she’s just now remembering how to breathe. then she nods, her lips parting, something unreadable in her eyes.

and then—

“that was sexy, as hell.”

you blink, caught off guard, before raising an eyebrow. “really?”

billie laughs softly, her voice a little breathless. “yeah,” she says, eyes gleaming. “you just… told him off.”

you shrug, trying to play it off. “wasn’t much.”

billie smirks, and it’s the kind of smirk that makes your stomach do something stupid. “it was kinda impressive.”

the air shifts, the static between you lingering just a second too long.

you glance toward the door. “wanna get outta here? i need some fresh air”

billie nods, too quick, too eager, and it makes you smile. “yeah. let’s go.”

as you head for the door, billie hesitates, then glances at you.

“you want me to walk you home?”

you don’t miss the way her voice dips, just slightly.

you glance at her, amusement curling at your lips. “yeah,” you say. “i think that’d be nice.”

the walk back to your house is slow, both of you dragging your feet just a little, neither wanting the night to end too soon. the cool air hums with the distant sounds of crickets and rustling trees, the scent of the earth richer out here under the open sky.

the town has settled into its quiet, the rowdiness of the tavern now just a distant murmur. porch lights flicker lazily, moths circling the glow, casting long, restless shadows across the dirt road. overhead, the stars sprawl endlessly, silver and cold, sharp enough to cut through the darkness.

billie kicks a stray pebble, hands shoved deep into her pockets, her gaze flickering to you every now and then, unreadable. you can feel her eyes on you, the weight of them, like she’s turning something over in her mind.

“so,” she drawls, breaking the comfortable silence, “you always that quick to pull a gun on a man, or was tonight special?”

you smirk, side-eyeing her. “depends on the man.”

“right, right.” billie nods, her lips twitching around the edges of a smirk. “he deserved it, though. you put the fear of god in him.”

“good.” you stretch your arms over your head, rolling out your shoulders, the tension from earlier still humming beneath your skin. “he needs to learn when to shut the hell up.”

billie huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “you’re somethin’ else.”

“what? you ain’t ever seen a woman put a man in his place?”

“oh, i have.” billie grins, slow and knowing, tilting her head at you. “just not one that looks as good as you do doin’ it.”

you scoff, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays you. “real smooth, billie.”

“i try.” billie glances at you, playful, eyes gleaming under the moonlight. “it seems to be working though.”

you roll your eyes but don’t deny it.

by the time you both reach your house, the moon hangs high, silver light spilling across the porch, pooling in the spaces between the wooden planks. you stop at the steps, turning to her, your hands settling at your belt, fingers hooking loosely around the buckle.

“i really appreciate you walkin’ me home,” you say, voice softer now, like the night has finally wrapped its arms around you, settling into something quieter. “i had a good time tonight, billie. y’know before all the bullshit happened.”

billie nods, rocking back on her heels, her gaze lingering on you. “yeah. me too.”

the quiet stretches between you both, thick with something unspoken. the cicadas hum. a breeze rustles through the trees, carrying the faint scent of pine and the lingering smoke from the tavern.

billie tilts her head slightly, her lips curving into something half-smirk, half-thoughtful. “so… what now?”

you hum, tilting your head, eyes glinting under the porch light, the warmth of the evening still clinging to your skin. “i reckon you want a kiss?”

billie exhales a small laugh, the sound caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. “yeah,” she admits, nodding once. “a kiss would be nice. really nice, actually.”

you just hum again, waiting.

billie steps closer, closing the space between you. her lips brush against yours, soft and brief—too brief. when she pulls back, you don’t move, just raise an unimpressed brow.

“hold on now,” you murmur, fingers curling into the loops of her jeans, tugging her back in with a slow, deliberate pull. “come and do it right. wasn’t given them pretty lips for nothin’. kiss me like you mean it.”

billie exhales another quiet laugh, but there’s something else beneath it now—something heavier, more certain. this time, when she kisses you, it’s slow, unhurried, her hands sliding to your waist, fingertips pressing into the fabric of your shirt like she’s trying to memorize the shape of you.

she kisses like she don’t want to forget. like she needs to know how you taste, how you feel under her hands, how your breath hitches just slightly when she deepens it.

when she finally pulls away, your lipstick stains her lips, a deep smudge of color against her own. you smirk, brushing your thumb across her lower lip, your touch lingering.

“well, now you’re just wearin’ my lipstick.”

billie licks her lips, smirking. “i don’t mind it.”

her hands are still on you, grip loose but firm, like she don’t wanna let go just yet. she steps forward, backing you against the door, her breath warm against your skin.

you don’t hesitate, don’t fumble. just reach behind you, unlocking the door with practiced ease, pushing it open, the wood groaning softly under your touch.

billie glances past you, taking in the inside of your house, her expression flickering with something unreadable.

“huh,” she mutters.

“what?” you ask, raising a brow.

billie shakes her head, smirking. “nothin’. just—figured you’d have somethin’ a little messier goin’ on.”

you roll your eyes, stepping back just enough to let her in. “you really thought i lived like a damn outlaw?”

“maybe.” billie grins, stepping closer, her presence filling the space between you. “you’ve got the attitude for it.”

you huff, shaking your head, but before you can say anything else, billie moves again, her hand sliding to the small of your back, pulling you into another kiss—deeper this time, more sure, more wanting.

you don’t stop her. hell, you don’t even think about stopping her.

you just kiss her back, letting her press you further into the house, her hands gripping you like she’s scared you’ll disappear. and maybe she’s right to—because if she keeps kissing you like this, you just might.

you take a slow step backward, leading her toward your room, your fingers threading through the soft waves of her hair. there’s an ease in the way you move, something effortless yet deliberate, a quiet kind of confidence that has billie watching your every motion like she’s committing it to memory, like she’s afraid it might slip through her fingers if she blinks too long.

she exhales a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “you always this smooth?”

you smirk, tilting your head just enough to make her breath catch. “you always this easy to pull in?”

billie bites her lip, her eyes flicking to your mouth for just a second too long. “for you? always.”

and you don’t waste another second.

you kiss her again, slow and deliberate, letting her feel exactly what she’s gotten herself into. it’s the kind of kiss that lingers, that pulls her under like a deep tide she has no intention of fighting. your lips move with a teasing slowness, a subtle push and pull that has her chasing after your mouth every time you threaten to pull away.

her breath stutters as your hands slip beneath her shirt, fingers tracing along the dip of her spine, feeling the way her body responds to your touch. billie exhales against your lips, the sound soft, a little unsteady.

you smirk. “somethin’ wrong?”

she shakes her head, lips parted. “just—never been kissed like this before.”

you hum, tilting your head as you trail your lips down her jaw. “like what?”

her hands tighten at your waist. “like i might not recover from it.”

your smirk deepens, your voice dropping lower. “good.”

you pull her shirt over her head, your lips never leaving her skin as you press kisses along her collarbone, down the curve of her neck, leaving faint smudges of lipstick in your wake. your fingers move to the buttons of her jeans, slow, deliberate.

billie’s breath hitches as you toy with the waistband, teasing, testing. her grip tightens against your sides, grounding herself.

“you sure?” you murmur, looking up at her beneath your lashes.

her answer comes without hesitation. “i’ve never been more sure of anything.”

your smirk lingers as you press another kiss to her lips, slow and intoxicating, before finally undoing her jeans and tugging them down. her fingers slip beneath your shirt in turn, skimming over warm skin, tracing along the edges of your ribs like she’s learning you by touch alone.

when her jeans finally hit the floor, you step back slightly, gaze dragging over her, taking in the sight of her—flushed, breathless, her pupils dark with something heady.

you lift your cowboy hat off your head and place it onto hers, tilting it just right.

“relax,” you murmur, voice thick with promise. “i got you.”

billie blinks up at you, dazed, lips slightly parted. “i think you want to kill me.” she mutters, voice thick with something dangerously close to reverence.

you grin, leaning down to brush your lips over hers, teasing. “nah,” you whisper, your breath fanning over her mouth. “just tryna make you feel real good.”

her hands slide up your back, nails scraping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “already do,” she breathes.

you hum in satisfaction before moving lower, undoing her jeans completely and letting them pool at her ankles. she lifts her hips to help you, breath catching when your nails lightly scrape down her thighs.

you sit back for a moment, just looking at her—how undone she is beneath you, your lipstick still smudged across her throat, your hat perched slightly crooked on her head.

“damn,” you mutter, shaking your head slightly. “prettiest thing i ever did see.”

billie laughs, breathless, her hands reaching for you. “please, have you seen you?”

she pulls you back in, fingers tracing down the line of your spine, undoing the buttons of your shirt, pushing the fabric from your shoulders. her touch sends heat skimming along your skin, a slow, simmering burn.

there’s a careful give and take—the slow unwrapping of each other, the soft murmurs exchanged between kisses. her hands are gentle yet eager, memorizing every inch of you as you do the same to her.

when her fingers trace over the clasp of your bra, she hesitates for the briefest moment, gaze flicking to yours as if waiting for permission.

you smirk, reaching behind you to unhook it yourself, letting the straps slide down your arms. “don’t get shy on me now.”

billie exhales a soft laugh, shaking her head. “not shy. just—” she swallows, gaze dark. “don’t wanna rush.”

your smirk softens just a little, and you brush your fingers along her jaw, tilting her chin up. “baby, we’ve got all night.”

her lips curve into something small, almost reverent. “yeah. we do.”

the moment stretches between you, heavy with something unspoken, something deeper than just the press of skin against skin.

you kiss her again, slower now, like you’re savoring every second, every inch of space between you disappearing as her hands roam, her breath mingling with yours.

time feels like it’s slipping away, dissolving into the heat of your skin, the rhythm of your heartbeats in sync. the world outside ceases to exist—no past, no future, just this. just her. just the warmth of her hands, the press of her lips, the weight of her body against yours.

the night stretches on, lost to whispered gasps, tangled limbs, and the quiet hum of something that feels dangerously close to forever.

billie wakes up to the quiet hum of morning, the kind that stretches slow across the land, warm and drowsy. the weight of sleep clings to her limbs, thick and slow, like honey refusing to drip from a spoon. the soft light of the morning filters in through the curtains, painting the room in muted golds and sleepy shadows. the sheets are tangled around her legs, clinging to the heat left behind, but the space beside her is empty.

she shifts, blinking against the haze, her body aching in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant. instinctively, her fingers reach for her neck, grazing over the remnants of last night—your lipstick, deep burgundy, smeared like a brand against her skin. the memory of your mouth, your hands, your weight pressing her into the mattress, lingers like an echo.

but you’re not here.

the realization settles in slow, an unease curling at the base of her spine. she sits up, raking a hand through her hair, her eyes scanning the room. nothing’s out of place, yet something feels off, like the air has been disturbed, like the warmth of you has been stripped away too soon. your hat rests on the chair by the window, untouched, but there’s no note, no message, nothing to tell her where you’ve gone. just an absence that gnaws at the edges of her mind.

her heart drums against her ribs.

last night—she remembers last night. the way you looked at her, the way your lips had parted like you wanted to say something but never did. the way your fingers had trembled, just for a second, before tightening in her hair.

so why does it feel like something slipped through her fingers while she was sleeping?

she swings her legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor grounding her, but it does nothing to settle the unease curling in her stomach. pulling her clothes back on feels mechanical, the fabric stiff from sweat and the lingering scent of you as her fingers moving on autopilot. she doesn’t know why she feels like this, like she’s standing at the edge of something unseen, something she doesn’t have the words for yet.

outside, the sun is already high, too bright, too warm against the cold twisting in her chest. she starts walking, boots kicking up dust as she heads toward her family’s ranch. the land stretches out before her, familiar yet suddenly foreign, like she’s seeing it through a different lens. her thoughts run circles around themselves.

then—

a scream. it’s sound, sharp. splintering.

billie stops cold, her breath catching.

then she’s running.

the sound draws her forward like a thread pulled too tight, unraveling her step by step. when she reaches the clearing, there’s a small crowd gathered, faces stricken, whispers curling in the air like smoke.

and then she sees him.

reggie.

lying still, his body slack, emptied.

his skin is pale, his body still. lifeless. but there’s no blood, no clear wound. just the eerie stillness of him, like something vital has been stolen right from under his skin.

but it’s not just his stillness that makes billie’s stomach drop. it’s the details.

his wrist—bare where his gold watch used to be.

his mouth—slightly open, missing the glint of a gold tooth.

his cheek—marked with a kiss, deep burgundy, the similar shade billie felt against her own skin hours ago.

billie stares. her pulse is a roar in her ears, her breath turning shallow.

her gaze lifts, flickering wildly through the gathered faces until she finds dj already watching her.

dj’s eyes are steady, dark, knowing.

billie can’t move.

dj tilts her head just slightly, and then, almost too soft to hear, she says,

“told you.”

billie sways where she stands, the earth beneath her suddenly unsteady.

the night unravels in her mind, thread by thread, until she’s left with nothing but a sinking realization.

the lipstick. the missing watch. the missing gold tooth.

the empty bed.

the ghost of your touch still warm on her skin.

billie swallows hard, stepping back, her skin cold despite the heat of the sun.

she doesn’t know what’s worse—the sick certainty curling in her gut or the fact that, deep down, some part of her already knew.

astrc’s tag list: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand @watercolorskyy @bilssturns @47lake @vijaxx @natbelovasblog @hopingforgoodblogs @thefeverburningalive @st0nerlesb0 ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content

[animamii]

"Fushiguro, that's your girl?" One of Toji's block mates asks, eyeing one of the many pictures Toji had of you taped to the slate gray brick wall. It was a simple picture, your hair was wavy in this one, a cute dimply smile, lashes curled as you looked all natural. But god, were you still stunning. Toji looks up from the thing he was doing, sitting in the steel chair that was bolted down to the floor.

"Yup, that's my ol' lady," looking up at the picture he can't help but proudly smile. Toji's wall is covered in pictures. Of you, of Megumi. The whole family. Cute pictures you took with each other before he got locked up. It was his motivation to stay straight while being inside. To remind him of what's waiting for him when he gets out.

The block mate lets out a low whistle, nodding approvingly as he leans back against the cold wall. “Damn. She bad.” His celly's eyes roam over the pictures. Ones where you're dressed up all pretty, makeup done perfectly. Ones where you're wrapped around one of Toji's arms, looking up at him with all the adoration in the world. Even the ones that show just a little too much, which Toji keeps right next to where he lays his head.

Toji chuckles, shaking his head. “Watch it.” There’s no real threat in his voice, but there’s an edge of warning that makes the other guy hold his hands up in surrender.

“Ain’t mean no disrespect, Fushiguro,” he says, still looking at the pictures. “Just sayin’. You lucky.”

Toji doesn’t need to be told that. He already knows. It’s what gets him through the long nights, the endless hum of fluorescent lights, the hostility of the barbed wire that separates him from the outside. Knowing you're out there, waiting, is the only thing that keeps him from losing his damn mind.

He leans back against the desk he sits in front of, arms folding across his broad chest, eyes fixed on the pictures. His ol’ lady. His girl. His anchor in a life that never gave him much stability.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. He can still hear your voice, that soft, teasing lilt whenever you’d call him by his full name just to mess with him. “Toji Fushiguro,” you’d say, dragging it out, pretending to scold him, even though your eyes always gave you away. He lived for those moments.

“Bet she writin’ you, huh?” the block mate asks. “You get letters?”

Toji nods. “Every week.” And he does. Neatly folded pages that smell like you, inked with words that remind him that he’s still human. That he’s still yours. That he still has something waiting for him beyond these walls. But god, does he miss you.

“Damn,” the block mate mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “Every week? That’s real love right there.”

Toji just smirks again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, edges worn from being opened and closed too many times. He doesn’t even need to read it again—he’s already memorized every damn word—but still, he unfolds it, running a calloused thumb over the handwriting. Your handwriting.

Hey, baby. I know you hate when I get all mushy, but I don’t care. I miss you. I miss you so much it drives me crazy sometimes. But I’ll wait. However long it takes, I’ll wait. You better be eating, staying out of trouble, and keeping that smart-ass mouth in check. (Okay, maybe not too much. You know I love that about you.)

Toji chuckles to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, you knew him too damn well.

Megumi misses you too, even if he acts all tough about it. You should’ve seen his face when I told him your letter came. He’s just like you, y’know? Won’t say how he really feels, but it’s all there in his eyes.

Toji swallows hard, jaw clenching. Megumi. His kid. Another reason for pushing through this hellhole. He pictures him—too serious for his own good, but with those same sharp blue eyes. His boy.

“Yo, Fushiguro,” another voice calls out, snapping him from his thoughts. One of the guards. “Mail just came in.”

Toji is already up before the guy even finishes his sentence, heart pounding just a little faster. The guard hands the baby pink envelope with a lazy flick of the wrist, and Toji snatches it up quick, already recognizing the familiar scrawl of his name across the front.

His block mate lets out a laugh. “Man, look at you. Actin’ like a kid on Christmas.” Toji was always stoic, kept to himself and never showed much emotion. But hey, you always brought it out of him and he wasn't gonna front or hold a facade when it came to how he felt about you.

Toji doesn’t respond. He just sits back down, thumbs sliding under the flap of the envelope, tearing it open like it’s the only thing keeping him breathing in this godforsaken place. The first thing that falls out is a polaroid. His breath catches. It’s you.

You're sitting by a window, sunlight spilling over your skin, that soft, gentle smile on your lips. His girl. His sweetheart. Looking at him like she sees something in him that even he has trouble believing in sometimes. And just like that, the walls of the prison don’t feel so damn suffocating. He’s got something to hold onto.

Toji runs a thumb over the polaroid, like he could somehow feel you through it. The picture is warm, soft, a stark contrast to the cold steel and concrete around him. He exhales through his nose, staring at it for a long moment before finally unfolding the letter.

Your words hit him like they always do—gentle, teasing, but full of something deeper. Something that reminds him why he’s still holding on.

Hey, baby. I hope you’re not making the guards’ lives too hard. (Who am I kidding? I know you are.) It’s been getting colder here. I keep stealing your hoodie, the one you always say is yours but smells like me now. Tough luck, Fushiguro, it’s mine until you come back and take it from me.

Toji smirks, shaking his head. She’s gonna pay for that one.

Megumi’s been doing good in school, but I had to threaten to ground him just to get him to eat something other than instant ramen. He’s stubborn, just like his old man.

His smirk fades a little. He can picture it—Megumi sitting at the dinner table, arms crossed, trying to act like he doesn’t care. Just like Toji used to. The guilt settles in his chest, heavy and unshakable. He just wishes he could be there. For the both of you.

We miss you. I miss you.

He stops, lingering on that line. Simple, but enough to send a slow ache through his ribs.

I don’t care how long it takes. You come back to me, Toji. We’re waiting.

Toji exhales sharply, pressing the paper between his fingers, his grip a little too tight.

“Damn,” his block mate mutters, watching him. “She really ridin’ for you, huh?”

Toji just nods. He doesn’t need to say anything. He folds the letter carefully, tucking it away with the others. Getting up, he sticks some tape of the back of the polaroid, putting it up next to the rest of the pictures. Then he leans back in his chair, looking up at the mosaic of pictures you send him.

Yeah. She’s waiting. And he sure as hell isn’t gonna let her down.

[hy6erion]

i keep reading jayce and his stupid big dick pleaseee write more if you can its so hot🧎🧎🧎 i don't see enough of dom jayce🙏🏻

(no pressure if you don't feel like it!!!♡ i love the way you write btw!♡♡♡♡♡)

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬)

⇢𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞(𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬), 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐦/𝐬𝐮𝐛 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐜𝐮𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Jayce had been fuming all night.

You had seen the way his jaw locked, the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides, the way his golden-brown eyes darkened every time someone looked at you for too long.

It didn't matter that you had done nothing wrong.

It didn't matter that you weren't flirting.

To Jayce, it was enough.

So now?

Now you're face-down on the mattress, legs spread wide, your ass up in the air, completely at his mercy.

And fuck- he wasn’t being gentle.

His thick cock slams into you from behind, stretching you open, his hands digging into your hips, holding you exactly where he wants you. The wet slap of his skin against yours fills the room, filthy and obscene, your slick dripping down your thighs, making a mess of the sheets.

"You think this pussy belongs to anyone but me?" he growls against your ear, his voice low, rough, vibrating with jealousy.

"T-thought you could just bat your pretty little lashes and have every guy in the room eating out of your fucking hand?"

You sob, your fingers clawing at the sheets, your body rocking forward with every brutal thrust, every stroke hitting so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

"J-Jayce-ohhh, f-fuck—"

"Yeah? You like that, baby?" he mocks, his grip tightening, forcing you to take him deeper, harder.

"Like being reminded exactly who this pussy belongs to?"

You can't even speak, can't even breathe, your mouth hanging open, your moans breaking into breathless sobs as he pounds into you, fucking you like he's trying to fuck the memory of every other man out of your head.

"You're so fucking tight, baby-fuck-squeezing my cock like you were made for me," he groans, his fingers bruising into your skin, his pace relentless.

"This is mine. This pretty little cunt? Fucking mine."

You're completely wrecked, your body shaking, your thighs trembling violently, your pussy soaked, fluttering around his cock, dragging him deeper with every thrust.

"Ohhh, fuck-Jayce-s'too much-s'too deep-"

"Too deep?" he laughs breathlessly, mocking, pressing a big hand between your shoulder blades, shoving your face down into the mattress, pinning you down.

"Nah, baby. You can take it."

His cock drives into you, filling you to the brim, stretching you so fucking wide you can't even think.

"This is what you wanted, huh?" he grunts, his fingers slipping between your thighs, rubbing tight circles against your swollen, aching clit.

"Wanted me to get jealous so l'd fuck you stupid, make you feel me?"

You wail, your whole body clenching, your nails digging into the sheets as the pleasure piles up too fast, too hard, too much

"J-Jayce-ohhh, f-fuck-g-gonna cum—"

"Yeah, baby?" he grins, grinding his cock deeper, dragging out your pleasure, making it impossible to hold back.

"Then do it. Fucking cum for me. Let me feel it."

And fuck-

Your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave, your pussy clamping down so tight around him that Jayce groans, his own thrusts faltering.

Your body shakes, convulses, pleasure surging through you like a fucking current, your walls milking his cock, squeezing him so tight he nearly collapses on top of you.

"Ohhh, f-fuck-shit, baby—"

Jayce snarls, slamming into you one last time, his hips grinding deep as he spills inside you, filling you up, stuffing you full of thick, hot cum.

"Take it, sweetheart," he grunts, pressing you deeper into the mattress, his hands still gripping your hips, holding you still.

"Take all of it."

His cock throbs inside you, pulse after pulse of heat flooding your already wrecked pussy, dripping out around his shaft.

He stays there, panting, wrecked, his body still trembling against yours. His fingers stroke lazily down your spine, warm, possessive.

Then, finally, he pulls out, watching as his cum spills out of you, thick and messy, pooling between your thighs.

Jayce groans, his fingers spreading your folds, pushing it back in with two thick fingers, watching you shudder.

"Mmm, can't have you wasting it, baby," he murmurs, grinning against your shoulder, pressing a lazy, satisfied kiss there.

You whimper, your body still shaking, still sensitive, still completely spent.

"I wasn't even flirting, Jayce-"

He just chuckles, grabbing your ass, giving it a sharp smack that makes you yelp.

"Doesn't matter," he hums, his breath hot against your ear.

"This pussy still needed a fucking reminder of who it belongs to."

Jayce should be done.

He should be satisfied, spent, exhausted-he just came so fucking hard inside you, stuffing you full, filling you up, marking you in every way possible.

But fuck— One look at the mess he made of you, his cum leaking out of your swollen, wrecked pussy, and he's already hard again.

You're still face-down on the mattress, your legs trembling, your body twitching with aftershocks, your pussy still fluttering from how hard he fucked you.

And Jayce?

Jayce just grins, pressing slow, possessive kisses along the backs of your thighs.

"Mmm, baby, you look so fucking good like this," he murmurs, dragging his fingers through the cum dripping out of you, spreading it along your inner thighs.

"So messy. So fucking pretty."

You whimper, still too sensitive, your body still shaking, but Jayce doesn't give you time to recover.

Instead, he grabs your hips, flips you onto your back, and dives in.

The first drag of his tongue over your overstimulated pussy makes you scream.

"Ohhh-fuck, Jayce-s'too much-"

"Shhh, baby," he hums, his big hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wider, pressing them flat against the mattress.

"You can take it."

You sob, your back arching off the sheets as his tongue laps up the mess he made of you, slow and lazy at first, just enough to make you twitch, whimper, gasp.

"Mmm, fuck," he groans, his breath hot against your soaked, throbbing cunt, his tongue teasing along your folds, swirling around your sensitive clit.

"Tasting myself on you? Fucking filthy."

You can barely breathe, barely think, your hands tangling in his messy brown hair, trying to push him away, pull him closer-you don't even fucking know.

"J-Jayce-ohhh, f-fuck—please-"

"Please what, baby?" he murmurs, grinning against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you spread wide for him.

"You want me to stop?"

"N-no-fuck-don't stop, don't stop”

Jayce just chuckles, burying his face between your thighs, his tongue flicking out, dragging a slow, messy lick up your slit.

"Mmm, that's my girl," he hums, lapping at the slick, drinking down the taste of you mixed with his cum, groaning at how fucking good it is.

"So fucking sweet. Soaked for me."

He's starving for it.

His tongue works you open, licking up every drop, lapping at the mess between your legs, sucking on your swollen clit just to hear you sob.

Your thighs shake around his head, your hands gripping his hair, pulling, tugging, your body rocking against his mouth.

"Ohhh-fuck, fuck-Jayce—"

"That's it, baby," he groans, his voice muffled, breath heavy, hot, desperate.

"Grind that pretty little pussy against my face. Use me."

You whimper, your legs twitching, your back arching off the bed, your body so overstimulated it hurts, but it feels so fucking good you can't stop.

"O-ohhh-fuck-s'too much-I can't”

"Yes, you can," he growls, shoving his tongue deeper, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs.

"Come on, baby. Cum on my tongue."

The second he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, your whole body snaps.

Your thighs squeeze his head, your nails claw at his scalp, your breath shatters into a scream as your orgasm slams into you, harder than before, overwhelming, drowning you in white-hot pleasure.

"F-fuck-fuck-Jayce, ohhh-ohhh, god-JAYCE-"

Jayce just moans against your pussy, his tongue still flicking, lapping, milking every drop out of you, swallowing it down like he's fucking addicted.

By the time he finally pulls away, panting, his chin soaked, his lips swollen, his eyes glazed over with hunger-

You're wrecked.

Your body is shaking, your legs twitching, your breath still uneven, your pussy still throbbing.

And Jayce?

Jayce just grins, licking his lips, dragging two thick fingers through the cum and slick still dripping from your pussy.

"Mmm, look at that, baby," he murmurs, pressing his fingers inside you, curling them deep just to hear you whimper.

"Still so messy for me."

You whimper, your body too sensitive, too overstimulated, still trembling.

"J-Jayce-fuck, I c-can't—"

"Shhh, baby," he hums, dragging his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

"You can."

He smirks, crawling back up your body, pressing his cock-already hard again-against your soaked, ruined cunt.

"And you will."

You know he's not letting you sleep anytime soon.

[froggiequarium]

(unedited) nsfw; caleb having you in a headlock & fcking you into the mattress :x inspo from this art based on this imagine

-

you'd always had a hard time keeping your eyes in check whenever caleb wore shirts that accentuated his arms, namely the loose tanks he'd sport in the warmer weather or even just during his workout.

you tried your best to hide it, you really did, but it was difficult to keep yourself in check when every subtle move or flex of his arm clearly showed off his bulging muscles.

aside from endless admiration for them, you often fantasized about having one of his beefy arms trapping you in a headlock, just to feel his strength in such a vulnerable state.

which is how you're here now, flat on your stomach against the mattress, meaty bicep wrapped around your neck, hands weakly gripping at the thick limb, gasping and choking out moans, drool seeping past your lips as caleb's body presses yours into the mattress, driving his hips against yours, the sinful sound of your connection ringing throughout the bedroom.

"couldn't stop starin' at em, could you? nngh, bet you were just waitin' for me to take you like this..."

his breath is raspy against your ear, only pulling another choked moan from your throat. caleb huffs out a laugh.

"you like when i get a little rough with you like this, don't you?"

you breathe out a sigh, floating to another world as he rams repeatedly into you, hips stuttering for a moment.

"ah, shit, you just clenched down on me. you're enjoying this, huh?"

"ca-leb—"

you needily gasp out his name, drool slipping past the corner of your lips and down his arm, the man wickedly grinning down at you in response, pace steady and punctuated, feeling your walls fluttering and clenching more and more— a sign that you're getting close.

he releases the pressure on your throat just slightly, your pretty sounds and whines going straight to his cock, ploughing faster into you, leaning closer to your ear, body crushing you into the mattress so fully.

you loved being taken like this.

"gonna make you feel real good, ok?" his voice is a sensual whisper against the shell of your ear.

"please... please, caleb! so close, hahhh" you whine under him, boneless body completely at his mercy.

in the next second, the pressure around your throat increases again at the same time that he slams against that sweet spot inside of you. he feels you clench down hard, groan escaping through gritted teeth as your eyes roll back, nails digging into the flesh of his arm, mouth falling open at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

airway constricted by the colonel on top of you, your sounds are choked, only managing needy pants as you reach your summit, cumming hard around caleb's thick cock still driving into you, helping you ride through your high.

"that's it, that's my good girl... shit, you really liked that, huh?"

he softens his grip again, hearing you gasp out for him, pleading whines of his name escaping your hoarse throat as he drives you into overstimulation.

"ca—leb, ah— sensi-tive, ah~"

"almost there, princess, almost—"

with a few more harsh thrusts, caleb cums with a loud groan, spilling himself completely inside of you. you whine underneath him at the sensation, weak and overstimulated from the treatment, courtesy of the man above you. you're trying your best to even out your breathing, fatigue tugging at your droopy eyelids.

caleb leans his head over your shoulder, planting a soft kiss against your bare shoulder blade.

"you okay, pipsqueak?"

"tired...." you whine, arms moving to hug his arm still around you, nestling your head against it.

he breathes out a laugh, warming your skin.

"yeah, i bet you are," he breaths out, free hand moving up to pet your head.

"let me clean my pretty girl up," he muses.

you hum, letting your eyes shut as he lifts himself off of you. you feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whimper at the loss before calming once more, breaths evening out waiting for caleb to return and clean you up.

and just as the edges of sleep are gripping at whats left of your consciousness, one singular thought circulates your mind:

you both definitely need to do that again.

-

this has been sitting here for a bit but i needed to finish it bc the art i saw was driving me insane tbh i need this so bad sigh

-

[yourlocallunatic]

You're Insufferable

Ridoc Gamlyn x Fem!reader 18+

Summary: Ridoc is a tease and everyone knows it and deals with it. But for some reason he drives you absolutely insane. The bickering is constant but there is something else lying underneath all the arguing. (follows Fouth Wing plot! I'm only halfway done with OS but I just love Ridoc sm)

Warnings: minor character deaths, smut! piv, oral sex (f receiving), light choking, a spank or two. sorta dom!Ridoc domsub dynamics. our boy is a relentless tease.

wordcount: 12.5K

notes: reader is described to have long hair because this is entirely self-indulgent. there is just such a lack of Ridoc stories, I needed moreeee. (yes it's long I got carried away)

Ridoc fucking Gamlyn. The bane of your existence. It started the day you crossed the parapet, you were determined to get across if only to spare your family from seeing your dead body on day one. The first rider of the family meant you were already dead to them, no one was there to prepare you for the onslaught you would face. And that day on the parapet was too close, the wind and rain caught you off guard, but it was your stupid long hair that was almost the death of you.

Your arms were out at your side to keep your balance while the wind whipped around you. You could hear the soon-to-be cadet behind you cursing with every step he took, his nervous laughs filling the air. It was hard to keep your balance though with your hair flying into your eyes every five seconds, and moving it away from your face took away precious time, the boy was getting closer. In a swipe of your hair, you glanced behind you quickly catching the dark-haired boy's eye, and he fucking grinned at you. Was it meant to be intimidating? No. But with how much adrenaline was coursing through your body the only thought you had was that he wanted to throw you off the edge to get rid of you early. You tried to pick up your pace but it only caused the wet strands of your hair to fly back in your face quicker resulting in you momentarily losing your balance. You crouch closer to the rocky surface trying to regain your balance slowly, a shaky breath leaving you as you hear the boy approaching closer.

"Better chop off that pretty hair when we get across or you're as good as gone when challenges start!" he shouted over the wind, his voice was teasing but you couldn't help the fear that was still running through your veins.

"Shut. Up." you grit out. You'd recovered your pace but he was still behind you.

"Hey, just trying to help. Or you can fall and I'd have one less cute girl to talk to and that would be a shame," he was so close to you you could feel his laugh on the back of your neck. But you ignored him, trying to focus on getting across the last quarter of the parapet. "You excited?" you give no response, again tucking your hair behind your ears, "can't say I'm thrilled with being potentially killed but hey, the lives we choose to live." You roll your eyes your pace now quickening with being so close to the confined walls of Basgiath once more. "Wait up! Don't want you running off without your new friend!" you were so close, ten more steps.

A deep exhale leaves you as you jump the short distance from the parapet to the grounds, a girl sits at a table with a sheet of paper and a pen waiting to take names. She jots down your name and gives you a tight-lipped smile before calling the next person.

"Ridoc Gamlyn," that gods-damned voice again. You try to speed away before he can get to you after giving his name but you don't make it. "Hey!" he calls to you. That's it. Better to get him off of you now before it becomes a habit.

"Hey?" you turn on your heel and stare him down causing him to almost run into you with the stride he was going at, "What the fuck was that back there?"

"Uhm I'm sorry?" he questions confusion taking hold of his face.

"I said, what the fuck was that? You were right behind me shouting in my ear! I know we're not supposed to root for each other but you're trying to kill me already?" you knew your face was going red with the anger consuming you. Gods, you couldn't wait for this guy to be gone.

"Woah, princess, I was just helping. Your hair is going to get in the way, take a look around, who else here has that long of hair?" you don't want to but you look around anyway. Every person, male, female, or otherwise had either short, cropped hair or it was tied back tightly. He gives you an I told you so look before speaking again. "That's because they're all at the bottom of the river, I was just there in case you lost your sight again. Whatever I'm done with this shit." He rolls his eyes before turning away and walking elsewhere.

You sigh to yourself. This was going to be a long three years and you've already made an enemy. With your luck, he would try to kill you that night.

Your first night as Basgiath started better than you expected. You'd managed some small talk with some other first years and the two girls invited you to sit with them at supper that night. One of them was the Sorrengail girl you'd heard everyone talking about, she was slight but with her stubborn determination you had no doubt she would try to cheat death in here. The other girl was taller, her hair braided back in dark cornrows, Violet was also smart enough to have her long, silver ends tied up. Shit. Maybe Gamlyn was right. You did your best to keep your eyes on him throughout supper, he sat a few tables away from you with some other first years, but clearly, you weren't being very discreet with your wandering gaze.

"Already found someone worth sleeping with?" Rhiannon questioned teasingly, turning to look at who you were staring at, "He's cute."

"No. He's a fucking asshole is what he is." You grumble, stabbing some lettuce with your fork.

"Ridoc, I talked to him earlier," Violet speaks up, "he was nice to me. Bit of a smart-ass but he's funny. What happened with you two?"

"He tried to kill me up on the parapet!" you say, definitely louder than you wanted to, and shit of course he looked up right as you said that. He excused himself from his table and made his way over to you guys. You swear your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. His stride was confident, a smirk playing on his lips as he brushed his dark curls away from his forehead. No. You internally scold yourself, he may be attractive with his lean frame but he was annoying as hell.

"Is the princess telling lies about me?" he smoothly slides between Rhiannon and Violet throwing his arms around their shoulders a grin eating up his face.

"You tried to kill her?!" Violet shoves his arm away from her, looking at him incredulously.

"Of course not!" rage consumes you, "I was just staying close to her, her hair kept flying in her face, was just there in case she lost sight completely and fell," he says as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"No. You were fucking distracting me!" your utensils clatter on your plate, "telling me to 'chop off my pretty hair'" You lower your voice to imitate him and he dares to laugh at you.

"Well...what do you girls think?" he says looking between the other two, their minds processing.

"I hate to say it...but Ridoc is right, it'll probably make it easier if you cut it, or at least tie it back like Violet," Rhiannon gives you an apologetic look and a shrug.

"That settles it then princess, just trying to help," Ridoc shoves himself away from the table before walking back to his seat, turning around halfway to meet your gaze, and winks at you. You roll your eyes in response before turning back to the girls. They share a look before going back to their meals.

The next morning in the barracks Violet had offered to braid your hair back for you and you begrudgingly agreed. You hated Ridoc being right. Zihnal was not with you because when first years began being added to squads you were thrilled to be with Rhiannon and Violet, but your excitement was short-lived as Ridoc was the next name called to Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing. He takes his place behind you and you do your best to ignore him as he talks to Sawyer–another member of your squad.

"Ah, look who took my advice!" you feel a tug on one of the two plaits Violet had done on you and you turn with fury.

"Take your hands off me Gamlyn," Rhiannon turns from where she stands next to you, grabbing your hand in an attempt to calm you.

"Someone's fiery this morning," he laughs, "looks good on you princess," he winks again, and before you or anyone else can stop you, the hand Rhiannon didn't have a hold on flew and slapped Ridoc straight on the cheek. He raises his hand to hold his face as you hear a shout a couple of rows ahead of you. "What the fuck?!" Ridoc shouts the shock evident on his face.

"Cadets!" your new squad leader–Dain Ateos–approaches the two of you, "You're a part of a squad now! Act like it. There will be plenty of time to fight during sparring, now behave yourselves." You turn back into formation hearing Ridoc grumbling behind you. Holy shit. What've you just done...? You hit your squadmate! You'd unknowingly unlocked months of intense rivalry between the two of you, all because you couldn't hold your temper.

The weeks went by slower than you thought, days of intense training and studying. Being a rider was a hell of a lot more difficult than you imagined it to be. But the most difficult part was trying to keep your temper around the man who was trying to make your life a living hell. Your other squadmates were fed up with your bickering. It ranged everywhere from trivial arguments about homework to betting who would make it up the gauntlet first when the training was to start. Challenges were going to start soon too, no longer assigned fighting partners and you knew Ridoc would challenge you only to bring revenge on the slap you'd landed on him the first day. But you were smart, you'd started studying his fighting style the moment he stepped onto the mat during the assessment. He held up alright, eventually knocking a tooth out of Aurelie's mouth, but that was before the daily training. As annoying of a squad leader that Dain was, he worked you all hard, and with gauntlet practice approaching too, he ensured you were all eating more than your share of food. Ridoc had gone from a lean floppy-haired boy who teased you on the parapet, to a now filled-out man beating most of his opponents in challenges.

But the most annoying part about Ridoc is that you didn't mind him...he was kind to the people he cared about and there had been more than one occurrence where you had to hold back your laughter from one of his jokes. But it was already over, you'd already hit him and he'd already decided that he would get his retaliation. So now every morning at breakfast you'd have to hear his taunting voice tease you.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

"Does that scowl hurt your pretty face?"

"Seems like the princess hasn't gotten any this week, she's grumpy."

Day after day. Thank the gods when it came to serious moments he seemed to hold back. You were halfway up the gauntlet, about to cross the shaking posts. Only moments earlier Ridoc had been arguing with Tynan about Barlowe, you and Violet had shared a glance, never seeing him lose his temper and it was...kind of hot. He was taunting Tynan from the ground, and you'd expected the same when you began, but he stayed oddly silent. You'd surprised yourself after making it to the top, the training was paying off.

The next week, challenges began, and you were ready. Just as you'd expected Ridoc challenged you. Rhiannon gave you a nervous look as Sawyer tried to talk him out of it.

"Are you sure?" Rhi asked you as you stripped off your flight jacket, leaving you only in your training top and pants with half of your daggers strapped to your belt.

"It's fine, Rhi. We all knew that this was going to happen. Maybe after this, he'll give up and stop annoying the shit out of me." You approach the mat, Ridoc already standing ready, his arms swinging at his sides to pump himself up. Did his shirt get tighter somehow? No. Not the time for that. You shove the thoughts to the back of your mind, trying to bring all the memories of the times he irritated you to the forefront. You take your stance, a dagger in each hand just like he did.

"Ready, princess?" He teased, that gods-damned annoying smirk splayed across his face.

"Begin," Emmeterio announced, and Ridoc pounced. You'd been watching him, he always skirted around his opponents waiting for them to make the first move, but not this time. It caught you off guard but you were able to move away in time, moving around him before throwing out a leg to knock him off balance. It worked for a moment but he was on you again in no time. He was moving fast, but you could move fast too. You hit each other with a series of blocks before you were able to knock a dagger out of one of his hands. He cursed, but that only freed up his hand to be able to grab your wrist, twisting until you dropped a dagger of your own. A gasp left your lips from the pain, and he eased up with the sound. He was going easy on you. Well fuck that. With his guard down you pull him closer, close enough that you could smell his sweat. Damn, why did he have to smell good too? You used that closeness to wrap a leg behind his knee to take you both down to the ground. You were on top of him now, his face contorted in frustration, only the second time you'd seen him lose his temper. He grunted and cursed.

"Fuck!" he shouted from between his teeth. Did you really get him this worked up? You grappled with each other, both of your remaining daggers lost somewhere on the mat, you tried to reach for your belt to grab another one while you were still on top but it made you lose your leverage. He was still stronger than you and you roll so that he now has the advantage above you. All these months he'd been preparing just so he could beat you. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. You've lost all semblance of control and tactic, now just thrashing to get out of his hold. He holds your wrists with one of his hands, his other shooting out with the speed of light to grab the dagger closest to him and bring it to your throat, "Yield!" he shouts louder than necessary. You stared into his eyes above you, his gaze was concentrated, and he knew he'd won. But you continue to stare at him before swallowing thickly, your eyes burned, tears threatened to spill over and his gaze softened, and the pressure of the dagger at your throat lightened significantly. You could use his moment of softness to try to gain back control but it was over, you'd already been humiliated.

"I yield," it was barely a whisper, only enough for him to hear. He gathered himself quickly and reached his hand down to help you up but you ignored it and picked up your daggers from the mat. You were missing one and you knew it was in Ridoc's hands. You turn to him, your gaze still low to the ground refusing to make eye contact. He mutters your name quietly, gently, and holds your dagger out to you, but you just push it back to him before rushing off the mat and gathering your things, leaving the training room. He'd won it, fair and square. You lost all control in that match, what was happening?

The next few days were awkward, to say the least. The rest of the squad tried their best to keep things normal, but nothing was normal without the banter between you and Ridoc. Slowly he seemed to regain some confidence in teasing you, it started light with you just rolling your eye in response, but by presentation day the two of you were in full-on arguments again.

"So how many of us do you think are going to be dragon lunch today?" Ridoc asks as you and the rest of the first years in your squad are waiting for your turn on the gauntlet.

"That's cruel, Ridoc," you reply, not in the place for humor this morning with how nervous you were, and you were sure you were not the most nervous, Violet still couldn't get up the wall.

"We live in a cruel world, princess," he mutters shaking his head. You groan in annoyance, trying your best to hold your temper instead of retorting, instead turning your attention to Violet.

"How are you doing Vi? Is there anything we can do to help?" you weren't much taller than her but those couple of inches were enough for you to bridge the gap to get up the wall.

"I'll be okay," she takes a deep breath, strangely calm for the situation you were about to enter. Luca was behind you two beginning her rant on the dragon she would be choosing. As if. Presentation was for the dragons to decide who was worthy and who would be torched. The past months had all led up to this. Every breath you took was shallow the entire way up the gauntlet, so aware of every step you were making and how fast you were making them. You released a breath once you reached the top, the rest of your squad cheering for you. Ridoc was right behind you breeching the top of the sloped wall, he whoops and gathered Rhiannon and Sawyer into hugs, the three of them laughing before he turned to you, a huge smile still on his face.

"Nice work Gamlyn," you say giving him a forced smile.

"Ah, a compliment, that's the first one I've received from you, I could get used to this!" He throws an arm around you squeezing you close.

"Way to ruin it," you grumble removing his arm from you before turning your attention back to Violet on the course. Oddly, you miss the warmth of his arm on you. He's always been touchy with the rest of your little crew, often embracing them or keeping an arm on them during meals or classes. You'd even see him press a kiss to Rhi's head after she'd helped him with physics. But with you, he didn't cross that line. Did he hate you that much? Or was it just because he knew how you would react? Your thoughts race as you watch Violet do the same, right before she grabs a rope from the side of the course and hauls herself up. Then using her daggers to climb her way up. This girl was something special. You grin and clap your hands as the rest of your squad cheers.

"That's our girl!" Ridoc shouts, obviously proud of his friend. Some of the other wings began groaning complaining that she cheated but all the noise falls into the background as the rest of your squad huddles up. That was the easy part. Now the next could very well mean your death. You try to calm yourself, hold it together, and keep all semblance of control before the dragons can sense you.

Now at the top, you waited for the other squad to finish before you entered the flight field. One of the other wingleaders stood before you preparing you to enter, instructing you to make small talk so the dragons would get a feel for you as well as recommending staying at least seven feet apart in case another squad member got torched.

"Nice day for presentation," Ridoc jokes 'small talking' with the senior wingleader.

"Not with me, with them," she rolls her eyes at his antics, and gods of course Ridoc will be right behind you annoying you the whole way. You knew you'd have to try your best to be in control or else you'd lose your temper in front of the dragons.

"Lucky me I have a wonderful view to distract me from our impending dooms," Ridoc laughs, anger swelled in your chest. You hear Rhiannon scold him and smack him upside the head, a smirk grows on your face but you stay facing forward.

Your senses feel heightened as you make your way onto the flight field, dragons surrounding the edges, a smile gracing your face at the pure wonder that these creatures held.

"They're pretty incredible aren't they?" you hear the awe in Ridoc's voice behind you, no humor or teasing, just... Ridoc.

"They really are," you respond to him and turn to face him, he was grinning, clearly he was made to be a rider. He turned slightly and met your gaze, his smile not faltering. His eyes shined in the sunlight this high atop the cliffs and you turn back to watch where you're walking before you get caught up in staring at him any longer. Why did this keep happening to you? As you neared the end of the field before turning back you caught sight of the illustrious feathertail, Violet was enthralled, her eyes not moving away from the creature. But your eyes wandered to something else going on only feet away.

A red scorpiontail on the smaller side was sitting peacefully in the sun, she was practically glowing. But what caught your attention was the brown swordtail a little larger than her that approached where she sat. He nudged her with his nose, seeming to almost mutter things at her before he rolled on top of her putting what seemed to be his entire weight on her. The red reared up, a deep growl leaving her throat, drawing the rest of your squad's attention to the two dragons. The brown stood again, circling the red while making grunting sounds to her, right before she swung her neck and snapped her massive teeth at the swordtail.

"Hey, princess," Ridoc is right beside you now, his voice hot on your neck from where he leans down close to your ear. "That red looks like you during math lessons, so grumpy," he's whispering to not draw attention to the two dragons, but you make the deadly mistake of reacting.

"Well if you helped me like you did everyone else maybe I'd be fine!" you turn to face him, a scowl traced between your brow, unbeknownst to you two it drew the attention of the two dragons.

"Woah now you look even more like her!" he laughs quietly before reaching out a finger to poke right between your eyebrows where your scowl formed.

"Ugh! You're insufferable!" you turn on your heel expecting to walk ahead of him again before coming face to face with the red scorpiontail. Your breath stopped and fear coursed through you. You heard Ridoc gasp your name.

"Don't fucking move," his words are seethed between his teeth but you barely resonate them. You feel the dragon's hot breath on your face, the smell of sulfur strong. "Please don't die, please don't die," Ridoc repeats the mantra as if it will help seal your fate. You keep your eyes low to the ground not daring to make eye contact, knowing that would be your death sentence. The dragon's gaze moves from you and you take the opportunity to look at her face. She was incredible. And her eyes were locked on Ridoc. Shit. But you didn't have time to assess your feelings before the massive creature was tackled to the ground by the brown swordtail.

You released your breath staring at the creatures fighting in front of you. Their roars echoed through the field as the chuffs of other dragons were heard from the edges as if they were egging the two on. You felt someone grab your hand and you were tugged to the beginning of the field again. You meet up with your squad about 20 feet ahead where Rhiannon is standing in front of the burnt corpse of Pryor, you hear Luca start to say something about him right before she gets torched right in front of your eyes. You gasp holding on tighter to the hand in yours, Ridoc's hand. Once you realize you dropped it immediately, but not before Violet could notice. You risk a glance behind you to look for the red scorpiontail again, praying she is alive. But the sight you were fixed with was not one you were expecting to see. The two dragons were still on the ground fighting, but they were both still alive, the brown was a bit bigger, you had expected him to take the red down fast, but there they still were.

"Come on, let's go!" Ridoc urges you, pulling on your arm yet again.

"Wait, Ridoc, watch them!" You were captivated, and surprisingly, Ridoc stopped pulling and watched the dragons with you. "They're playing."

"No, they're fighting, let's go," he tugs again, and this time you comply. His hand doesn't release yours until you're off the flight field.

The mess hall that night seemed a hell of a lot smaller after having lost so many first years in one day. You were sure there would be even less after threshing. Your squad was down two more people now. You sat with Rhi, Violet, Sawyer, and Ridoc who were all discussing the dragons you'd seen today. Rhiannon talks about a green that had been all up in Violet's business while you and Ridoc were being intimidated by the red scorpiontail, while Violet says she didn't feel a connection to any of them.

"What about you?" Rhiannon says your name, drawing you into the conversation. You open your mouth to speak but before you could Ridoc interjects.

"Well, I for one think that red scorpiontail already loves you. You two even have the same frown and grumpy demeanor!"

"Shut up, Ridoc," you turn your attention to Rhi. "But yeah, I did feel drawn to her..." your voice went quieter.

"Well you might as well go for that brown then, Ridoc," Sawyer speaks up. "with how annoying he was being to that red those two dragons are practically you guys already." He laughs, the girls nodding in agreement.

"You wound me," Ridoc puts a hand to his heart, "but unfortunately I think that guy took down the red so the princess is gonna have to find another dragon." No. He didn't, you knew that both of the dragons were still alive, and it pissed you off that Ridoc decided to taunt you about it when you'd just said you were drawn to that red.

"They were just playing Ridoc!" you shout, sounding almost childish with your insistence.

"Yeah right," his words muffled by the food in his mouth.

"They were! Don't you think one of them would've already been dead by the time we turned around? And neither of them were going for death blows, it was almost like they were sparring or something..." you mumble out the end, brows knitting as you think about it.

"Maybe it's their form of flirting then," Ridoc jokes, earning him a groan from Rhiannon. "What? If I were a dragon that's how I'd try to get a girl, relentless teasing, tackling her to the ground, you know that sort of thing." Ridoc shrugs and the wheels in my brain start turning.

"And that's why you mostly sleep with men..." Violet says under her breath, she and Rhiannon start to giggle.

"Hey! I'll have you know I can pleasure a woman just as well as I can a man. The women at Basgiath are just too controlling, I like to be in control," Ridoc smirks, leaning back in his seat. Why did he have to talk about this... now that's all you could think about. Your memory shifts to when he challenged you, his hands pinning your wrists, his body on top of you. You shake your head to try to clear the thoughts, this was your rival for god's sake! Why were you thinking like this?

"Really? You're the controlling one in bed?" Sawyer scoffs in disbelief.

"Don't sound so shocked. From my experience, everyone needs to give up control every once in a while, and the bedroom is an excellent place to do it when you have someone like me to be in charge." Oh. Fuck. You try to take a drink of water to cool your burning nerves but all it does is cause you to choke on it. You sputter trying to catch your breath, "You okay there, princess? Not scaring you off am I?" Ridoc winks at you. Okay. That's enough. Time for a cold shower and bedtime, surely you wouldn't feel like this in the morning. You ignore his comment and excuse yourself from supper before rushing to the showers.

It was late when Violet and Rhiannon returned to the barracks, you lay there pretending to be asleep. Even when Violet brought up the fact that you seemed off at dinner. Fuck, you really had to pull yourself together before threshing next week, or Ridoc was going to make your life miserable with his teasing.

You managed to make it through the week without drawing too much attention to yourself, though Ridoc was still relentless when it came to teasing you. But the morning of threshing was...rough to say the least. Everyone's nerves were on fire, even the ever-confident Ridoc was vomiting behind a tree. You grimaced feeling sorry for him, he might not show it but he wanted to succeed, just as you all did. Professor Kaori advised on what to do when approaching a dragon, he also said that if a dragon had already chosen you they'd be calling you. Okay, what is that supposed to feel like? You snark internally. You had no idea what to expect when entering the valley. It was happening too fast, you heard Ridoc instruct the rest of your squad to stay alive and you all went your separate ways.

You'd been walking through the valley for hours now, and the sun was falling low on the horizon giving you one maybe two hours maximum. If you were any other person you'd be wondering if there were even any dragons left out here, but you felt in your bones that your dragon was still out here, you just had to find them fast enough. You neared the ends of the boundaries only a few miles left within them, you'd managed to avoid other dragons thus far and only ran into one other cadet–a girl from Third wing–who looked so frightened that you would kill her that she ran off right away, like a dragon would choose that. The further you walked the stronger the hum in your body felt, you were getting close. The setting sun shone through the trees illuminating the path and if it weren't for the sun, you would've entirely missed the glint to your right side. You turned, hand ready on your dagger, but once you met her gaze you knew the beautiful creature wouldn't hurt you.

The red scorpiontail stepped out of the shadows of the forest, the sun glinting off her scales making them look like rubies. It was the dragon from presentation. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face as she walked closer to you, she was alive. You stood, watching her in awe as she circled you sniffing you and feeling you out before a warm grumble sounded in her throat.

"Will you come with me?" her voice echoed in your head, elegant but firm, she was not asking you, she was telling you to come with her, or you would not return.

"If you’ll have me…" You didn't want to scare her off so you held your palm out to her, letting her run her face along you, the warm scales felt so naturally under your hand. She turned to the side in a silent order to climb on her back. You made the movements and took your seat. This was unlike anything you'd felt, you were a rider.

"Now hold on, squeeze your legs, and keep your grip," you don't know if you'd ever get used to hearing her voice in your head. You do as she says, you keep your grip and hold on. The wind through your hair is like nothing you've felt before, tears sting your eye from the brightness of the setting sun. As you climb higher into the sky you look around you, you're a good five miles from the field where all the new riders are landing their dragons. Over the wind, you're able to hear the loud shouts of someone all too familiar. You look to your left and see Ridoc on the top of a brown swordtail, again the same one from presentation. What are the fucking odds?

"Look at us, princess! We're riders!" the joy in his tone is infectious and you can't help but smile as he risks throwing one of his hands in the air to feel the wind. Despite your joy, you feel grumbles beneath you and look down to see your dragon shooting sideways glances at Ridoc's dragon.

"Are you alright?" you shout over the wind, "Do you not like that dragon? We saw you two the other day!"

"Not so loud girl, I can hear your thoughts just fine. I know you saw me, dragons remember much better than humans," Her tone is short, clearly she's irritated.

"That's Ridoc, he hates me." you give the whole 'mental talking thing' a go.

"Don't be stupid, girl, I said I saw you two that day, he was begging for me not to kill you."

"Well I saw you two that day too, you're practically shooting fire through your eyes at his dragon now but the two of you were rolling around in the grass together the other day..." Shit. Maybe you shouldn't have said that, red dragons are known for being notoriously angsty. A grumble reverberates through her chest as she flies faster, and out of range from Ridoc and his dragon.

"Aotrom has been trying to mate with me since we were adolescents, we're both still too young to mate but he doesn't seem to give up,"

"Oh so he likes you, that's what this is about."

"Yes but he's insufferable about it, you saw him, he laid on top of me!" her body seemed to grow even hotter with the annoyance running through her. This conversation was all too familiar.

The two of you continued talking until you landed most of the cadets already back. It was odd but strangely comforting talking to Cairistìona, the two of you feeling the same things.

Ridoc had landed just after you, running over and pulling you in a hug before spotting Rhiannon and doing the same to her. He was too excitable, you don't even know if he noticed it was you he was hugging. Rhiannon came over to you and gathered you in her strong arms.

"I'm so happy!" She squealed. "Fierge told me that's the same red you saw in the field the other day."

"Yeah, Cairis," You return her embrace and turn your head to look where you left her. Aotrom–Ridoc's dragon–was rubbing against her like a cat and chortling, she whipped her head around and blew a small cloud of fire at the brown dragon.

"Hey!" you hear Ridoc shout, running over to Aotrom. "Tell her to back off!"

"Oh he's fine," you defend Cairis walking to where she bares her teeth at Ridoc. "Dragons are fireproof, and besides, he was in her personal space."

"He likes her, can't you tell her that!" he cries, Aotrom lowering his nose to receive attention from Ridoc, gods these boys were going to be menaces.

"Tell the boy I already know and don't want to talk about it." Cairis turns her head in a pout.

"She knows Ridoc, and she doesn't care, maybe you should tell him to leave her alone!" you fold your arms across your chest, watching Ridoc as he walks closer to you.

"Oh please, he's not going to give her up, she's his mate!" your voices arguing carried across the field, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Sawyer and Rhiannon approaching and you briefly worry about Violet.

"Not yet she's not! And I pray to Amari they never do mate because that means I'll have to spend the rest of my life miserable!" the two of you are inches apart now his warm brown eyes staring into yours.

"Woah, woah, calm down guys," Sawyer says as Rhiannon pulls you back.

"You have no idea, princess I'd rock your world," he smirks and you're sure your face blooms red, out of anger or because he flirted. You had not a clue.

"Want me to torch him? He reminds me of a certain dragon, maybe they can burn together..." you hear Cairis' voice in the back of your head.

"NO." Your response is too quick and you know it.

"Oh...you don't like him do you?"

"No, I just...he's still my friend...I think. He just annoys the ever-loving shit out of me. And don't pretend you'd kill Aotrom too, we both know you could've killed him already."

"Don't forget your place little one," Cairis' voice looms louder before she turns with a whip of her tail, the poison barb inches from Aotrom's face. "Now go to your friend she just returned, the Empyrean has much to talk about now."

Violet was certainly a force to be reckoned with, you'd learned that early on. But bonding two dragons? And one of them being one of the most powerful...gods, she was something. The Empyrean discussed while the rest of your squad sat in the grass and waited. Rhiannon and Sawyer separated you and Ridoc before you got into any more arguments. This was good because Ridoc was going on and on about how hard he was going to be celebrating tonight with the rest of the new rider cadets, as well as deciding who he wanted to take to bed. You couldn't help the annoyance (jealousy?) that came from it.

"Yeah right, Gamlyn, like anyone wants to go to bed with you after the long day we've had," you scoff, not able to hold back your comment.

"I can be relaxing, want me to show you, princess?" He retorts. How does he always have something to say back?!

"Down boy," Rhi jokes, "she already has to deal with you and now she has to deal with your dragon too, give it a rest." You throw Rhiannon a thankful gaze before your dragons approach you again.

"Time for you to sleep girl, we start flight maneuvers this week, rest up." You stand to greet Cairis and her head nestles in your hands. She seemed to have a bit of a temper but you knew she would do anything to protect you now. You were bonded. So you watched her launch into the sky before heading back to the caves of the Vale, Aotrom following behind her like a love-sick puppy.

-------

The next few weeks grew harder, all your free time thrown into school work and flight maneuvers, and since Violet was attacked Dain has ordered squad hand-to-hand combats every Tuesday night. You could tell that even Ridoc was getting weary, his comments to you had just turned to eye rolls. He would still throw one in now and again during flight, Cairis and Aotrom's petty snaps at each other made it difficult for you not to fight with one another. You'd managed to talk Cairis into being gentler with Aotrom–at least when you were around–if only to give you a slight sense of peace. But just like his rider, Aotrom was untamable.

It was a Tuesday night, you were in the training room and everyone began to spar with one another. Ridoc had tried to convince Liam to join him but Liam refused now that he was Violet's guardian so Imogen stepped in. You and Sawyer worked on your blocks with one another when Xaden and Garrick walked in. The two stripped their shirts off and began to spar with one another. You hear a low whistle as Violet and Rhiannon, even Imogen from where she held Ridoc in a headlock had their heads turned to watch the bulky, chiseled men fighting each other. To be fair it was boiling in the training room that night, the heat was cranked due to the cold December snows, and nearly every man had his shirt removed, including Sawyer across from you and the girls all in their training vests. Ridoc taps in fast succession before Imogen releases him and you're all dismissed by Dain for a water break. You chug from your bottle as Rhiannon approaches next to you.

"Did you see those two?" she asks you, talking about Xaden and Garrick. They were sure something to look at, their winding rebellion relics and dragon relics covering them. "Makes me feel way too straight looking at them..." she draws off and you giggle at her, looking over to see Violet who is practically drooling at Xaden.

"I don't know if I want to be them or be with them," you hear Ridoc speak from the other side of you. You turn to see him drinking his water, small dribbles falling down his chest–his now bare chest–as he pants heavily. You thought Xaden and Garrick were something sure... but Ridoc...holy Dunne. You knew he'd gained some muscle since he'd gotten here, but you didn't know he was fully jacked now! His body was fully carved by the gods. Maybe he wasn't as chiseled as Xaden or built like an ox like Garrick but he was...perfect. Your body grows hotter than it already was your mind racing. Why were you reacting like this to Ridoc of all people? Sawyer was just as attractive and way nicer. It had been happening way too often for this to just be a one-time thought.

"Ever occur to you maybe you like him?" Ciaris asks, listening to your thoughts.

"Not now," You reply quickly before putting up your shields and blocking her out.

"Hey, princess, want a rematch?" Ridoc asks, a grin plastered on his face. "No weapons this time?" You're sure your face was bright red at this point, your whole body at that. You just shake your head before gathering your stuff, haphazardly throwing your flight jacket on. You had to get out of here now.

"Hey where are you going?" you hear Violet call to you as you leave to ask Dain if you can leave early to finish homework.

"I have way too much homework, gonna see if Dain'll let me off 30 minutes early," you respond, still walking to your squad leader. He gives you the okay, and you go to walk past the rest of your squad before leaving the training room.

"I thought we were studying tonight for the math exam tomorrow?" Sawyer asks and you halt your steps. Oh shit, you'd forgotten, and Ridoc would have to be there, he was the best of you at math.

"Oh...um-yeah! Just wanted to shower first, just come to my room, we can study in there." Right a cold shower, would help. Then it would be fine to see Ridoc again, with his shirt on.

The cold water sprayed over you and you quickly cleaned yourself and washed your hair, rinsing away all your impure thoughts with the water. Once back to your room, you run oil through the ends of your long hair, still not having cut it since parapet, though now you'd kept it safely tied back. It was so much nicer to have your own room after being in the barracks for months. You sit at your desk and look over your workload, deciding to get some history done before the others come to study.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed before there was a knock at your door. You leap up from your chair, a smile on your face ready to greet the rest of your crew, but when you open the door your smile falls.

"Really? Are you that disappointed? I thought you were lightening up, didn't realize you were still a brat," Ridoc walks into your room and shuts the door behind him, flopping on your bed like he lived in there–at least he was clean, you could tell by his damp, tousled hair.

"Where are the others?" you ask turning from where you still stand by the door in your loose black sleep pants and a vest.

"'Hi Ridoc, hello, nice to see you' would be the appropriate response," he taunts, tossing his bag on the ground before laying back on your bed, his hands behind his head. You don't even respond to him, only giving him an annoyed look before he rolls his eyes and answers your question. "Sawyer took a fist to the face from Ateos, Rhiannon is taking him to the healers, broken nose. And Violet has whatever she has going on with Riorson...I don't even want to know. They said to go without them, that you'd need the most help with math anyway." He sits up again on your bed scooting to the edge, seemingly not able to sit still.

"Whatever, I'll just fail, you can go back to your room," you complain heading to your desk and shutting your history books.

"No, it's okay, princess. I can help you."

"I don't want your help, Ridoc, just go," You turn and face where he sat on your bed, his face unreadable.

"Seriously? You're that proud?" his words strike you across the face, his mouth turned downward in a frown as he stands and takes a step towards you.

"I'm not proud!" you fumed, "I just know you're going to tease me for being so shitty at math!"

"You think that little of me?" he takes another step forward, "Sure, I like to tease you but don't mistake me, I wouldn't tease you over something you struggle with!" this is the most serious you've seen him. But you still have some confidence left.

"Really?! Because you've already done that!" you shout back at him, thankful that you have a sound shield on your door so no one hears you seething at each other.

"When?!" he retorted, throwing his arms to the side in confusion. You wrack your brain, looking for the right words to describe how it had made you feel.

"Every-fucking-day Ridoc! It's constant taunting and I just don't know how to respond! With everyone else, you're nice and funny but you just have it out for me! I know I started it when I slapped you, and I know I don't make it easy with how I respond, but I thought at least when you humiliated me after challenging me you would let go!" tears are welled up in your eyes from the amount of anger you feel. You thought you'd get Ridoc with that, you thought he'd break and apologize like the nice guy you know he is, but a terrifyingly playful smirk grew on his lips.

"Ever take a moment and think it's cause you're always acting like a brat, princess?" he takes another step towards you and another, and another, until he's hovering over you, your back pressed against your desk, his face only inches from yours. "Yes, I tease you, I tease all our friends, but you're the only one who stays acting like I'm some sort of fucking villain when I stop." You think about it. Truly think about it. Were you the only one? He was an over-confident smart-ass he made comments to everyone, so why did it bother you so much?

"Ah, cat got your tongue?" your breath is caught in your throat and you watch as he raises a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Y'know, I saw you staring at me tonight, you're not nearly as sly as you ought to be..." he was fucking teasing you again. But the way he was doing this...gods your body was on fire.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you lie, your voice barely a whisper. You look up and meet his eyes, his warm eyes, pools of chocolate that you could just melt in, and he is looking at you, really looking at you. In this moment you felt as if he could read your soul on a piece of paper.

"We both know that's not true," his voice dangerously low and confident. "And I think we both know that all you need..." his hand that tucked your hair behind your ear moves and he begins to trace your neck with the backs of his fingers, "is to give up control." You know your heart is beating out of control now. His hand now moved to grasp the side of your neck tightly, his other hand braced on the desk behind you. You were trapped against his body, the same way you were trapped when he held you against the mat, and it felt so good.

Before you could ask him for more, or surge up to kiss him like you may or may not have thought of doing while you were in the shower, he moves away and your body slinks in disappointment.

"Wanna know why I tease you?" he asks, his back turned to you as he picks up the trinkets on your bedside table.

"Desperately," you sigh out, hoping for an actual answer. He turns again a smirk on his face as he looks at the absolute mess he'd made of you already. He backs up and sits on the edge of your bed again, his legs spread wide before he answers you.

"Because it riles you up."

"Well I think I gathered that," you roll your eyes and look down at your hands.

"That first day after the parapet, I couldn't get over how fucking sexy you looked with that annoyed face," Oh. You knew this was heading somewhere, but for him to flat-out call you sexy made you press your legs together, "I can't get enough of it, even now." he looked away, all of his confidence suddenly gone. "And I wanted to see if once, once, you'd lose it."

"Lose it?" you question, and he laughs at you before running a hand through his dark hair.

"It happened once when you slapped me, and I thought it was going to happen again when I challenged you, but instead, you melted in my hands like a fucking puddle," he shakes his head and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again, embarrassment evident on your features, "Awe, don't be embarrassed, princess." Gods, why was every fucking word he was saying making the wetness pool in your core?

"Ridoc?" You ask him, taking a step away from the desk and towards him, he hums in response, looking you over from head to toe, studying every inch of you. "You said that night, after presentation, that if you wanted to get a girl, you'd just 'tease her' and 'tackle her to the ground' like Cairis and Aotrom," you felt a bit silly saying his same words over again but continued, your voice still quiet, "is that...what you've been doing with me?" You take another step forward, "all the taunting, then challenging me...was that you trying to tell me you like me?" You were close enough to him now that he could just reach out and grab you, and he did.

Ridoc grabbed your arm and pulled you straight between his legs, the largest smile you'd ever seen from him taking up his entire face.

"Took you long enough to figure that out, princess," and there you were, in the arms of Ridoc Gamlyn, the man you'd argued with and fought with for the past several months, and it felt incredible. He seemed like a completely different person, but he wasn't. It was you and your perspective that changed, you were feeling what it felt like to just give into him, letting him tease you and taunt you for his pleasure, giving up your control.

"And do you remember what I said after that?" your breath caught in your throat at the memory. He liked to be in control, in charge. You nodded shyly from where you stood between his legs, all your confidence now lost. His hands that held your arms moved up to cradle your face, and you melted. "Look at you," he hummed, "Tell me. I want to hear you say what I said." you gathered all your courage and looked him in the eye.

"You said that everyone needs to give up control at some point..." your voice still low and quiet. "and that in the bedroom with someone like you is a good place for it."

"Seems like someone remembered well. The look on your face after I said that, gods...made me so fucking hard to see you that flustered." you couldn't help but press your legs together at his words, thinking of him getting so worked up over your reaction to him. "I knew after I challenged you just how easily you'd give in, but that was when I realized that it was me and my words that were getting you so fired up and you just don't know how to respond other than with anger." he was reading you like a damned book. How had he gathered all this when you couldn't even realize the capacity of your feelings?

"Y'know you're a lot smarter than everyone gives you credit for, Gamlyn," you smile a bit, opening yourself up.

"Yeah? I think that deserves a kiss," your instincts take over and you roll your eyes at his comment. One of his hands that held your face moved lower, his long fingers wrapping deftly around your throat and applying slight pressure, the annoyance in your face dropped and you felt your body submitting to him, a whine leaving you at the feeling of his hand on your throat. "Really, princess? I thought you were done with the attitude?" His voice is deep and raspy and he licks his lips as he watches your expression. Oh to feel that tongue on your body.

"I'm sorry...I just..." you trail off, your body practically quivering at this point in anticipation.

"'Just-just' what?" He mocks you. Fuck it. You couldn't wait any longer. You surge forward and capture his lips in yours. He's taken aback for a moment but it doesn't last long before he's devouring you. It's a mess of tongue and teeth as he pulls your body against him, his fingers tangling in the hair at the base of your neck, "Still got some fire left in you? We'll see about that..." he mumbles out between kisses.

You're desperate for more, your hands moving all along his body before he picks you up as if you weigh nothing switches places with you, and pushes you back until you're laying against your bed. Your hands reach the bottom of his shirt and you begin to tug wanting more than anything to feel his skin on yours, but he stops you. Oh. Was he upset? You thought he wanted this...

"Huh uh, princess..." he drawls out, his voice like honey. Okay, he's still turned on, what was this about?! He takes a step back from you, his eyes raking over your body that was on the precipice of convulsing. "I've wanted this for too long, and once I have you...gods, I don't think I'll ever be able to keep myself away from you." your face scrunches in confusion, was he asking you to be his girlfriend right now?

"What do you mean?" you ask, looking for clarity.

Ridoc runs his palms over his face in exasperation before raking them through his still-damp hair. He seemed almost stressed. Whatever control he held just a moment ago, he was letting go of, show you his full, raw, emotions. "I mean that I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should. And I don't want this to be a one-time thing. I want you fully and wholly. I'll even stop teasing you if that's what it takes for you to say yes! Even though you look so damned cute with your little frown." he smiles at the end of his sentence as if remembering the specific look on your face. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face, as if only now you'd recognize the capacity of your feelings. You'd been drawn to him before but your inability to give in to him was what was holding you back. But you were ready to let go.

"I don't want it to either..." You look him in the eye and reach out to pull him into you again, placing a small kiss on the tip of his nose before continuing. "I want you to have me, I'm done running away from you. Take me, Ridoc." You took his hands that were still nervously tangled in his hair and place them on your waist, a physical way of showing him what you just told him.

"I want you to be sure, sweetness. I don't know if I can hold myself back from you, I can get prettyyy...excited." He grips your waist harder, testing the waters.

"I want you to take charge, Ridoc, I want you to do whatever you want to me, I'm at your mercy," you're all but begging him at this point to just give you everything he's teased to you.

"Fuck..." He groans out, leaning down and burying his face in your neck causing the flesh on your arms to rise at the feeling. He places sloppy kisses there, searching for the spot that will drive you nuts. Once he hears your little moans as he kisses the spot right behind where your jaw and earlobe meet he begins to nip and suck, marking you for everyone to see. "Y'know when I pinned you to that mat, I was about certain you were going to finish right there, sadly I was mistaken. But I learned that you seem to really like being beneath me." Even then he could tell that you were lost in him, and he took this opportunity to put you in the same position he held you in that day.

You lay with your head at the top of the bed, Ridoc's hands pinning your wrists to the pillow behind you, his legs tangled in yours. You moan lightly at the sight above you as he works kisses down your chest and to your cleavage where your shirt cuts off. You try to move your hands to reach down and take off your top, but his grip on your wrists is firm. You hear him laugh at your attempt pathetically against your chest, the heat of his breath causing a shiver to run down your spine. You whine at the loss of your ability to move, your body on fire for him to touch you more, but he keeps lingering with his hot lips all over your neck and chest.

"What? Want more?" He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes glazed over and lips swollen. He looked utterly sinful.

"Please..." you beg, attempting to move your arms again to see if his grip has loosened.

"I think that's the first time you've ever used that word with me," he ignores your plea and licks down your chest, his teeth nipping the edge of your top, pulling it down slightly.

"Ridoc, please, you said you wouldn't tease!" your voice raises slightly a sliver of shame entering your body with how you were begging him.

"Well that wouldn't be as much fun," he states but removes his hands anyway and moves them to the bottom of your top moving it up inch by inch, feeling your warm skin beneath his hands, "you're so fucking hot when you beg for me." his hands reach the bottom of your unbound breasts and his fingers creep up tauntingly. Your now free hands shoot out and reach for him, you sit up your mouth going straight for his, you couldn't get enough of how good he tasted. "Slow down there, princess, mm-wanna take my time," he murmurs through your lips.

"You've made me wait long enough...please just take me," he seems to let go at your words, his hands fully enveloping your breasts and squeezing, a hum sounds from his throat at the feeling. His fingers move to pluck at your hardened peaks, and you move yours to the edges of your top, breaking the kiss to remove it.

"Oh, gods, knew you'd look this good," Ridoc says, his voice just as desperate as you felt. But you waste no time, as soon as your shirt is removed you start pawing at his to take it off. Once it's off you wrap your arms around him mouth moving to his neck to taste him just as he did to you, the feeling of your hot skin together driving you mad. He grunts at the sensation of your mouth on his neck, only giving in momentarily before grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he stands up. As soon as he stood he reached for the waistband of his pants and removed his belt in one motion and undoing the button. He takes off his pants quickly, his painfully hard cock bouncing up to hit against his toned stomach. Wow. Ridoc talked a big talk when it came to his dick. You'd always thought it was a part of his jokes, but the evidence was here in front of you and he was not joking.

"Oh gods..." You moan out at the sight, not being able to hold back from sinking to your knees in front of him as he tugged at himself, "Please let me taste you."

"Hmph, not today," He says and reaches down to help you off your knees and shove you back onto the bed, "I'm about to finish just seeing you on your knees, and I want to cum inside you first." His words are filthy and it spurs you on more. You sigh dejectedly, your mouth watering at the sight of his leaking tip, you can't help but reach a hand out to try and feel him, but he slaps your hand away, pushing on the middle of your chest until you're lying flat against the bed. "I said, not today, or don't you want me to taste you first? Don't you think you deserve it? You've been so patient...but I can always take it back and wait till tomorrow to fuck you..."

"No! Please! I'll be good, I'll stay put!" you sit up on your elbows, an acute fear growing in your body at the thought of him leaving you here until tomorrow.

"Hm, that's more like it," Ridoc approves, removing his hand from his cock and to your pants, dragging them and your panties down far too slowly. You do your best to be patient and hold back your whines, you know that it's a test. He kneels in front of the bed and spreads your legs open his calloused fingertips running along the inside of your thighs, drawing up closer to your center. "I really did get you worked up didn't I?" Ridoc remarks before dragging a fingertip through your dripping wet core. You don't hold back your sounds knowing he's about to make you feel incredible.

Ridoc's mouth on your pussy is unlike anything you'd felt, he meant it when he said he knew how to pleasure a woman just as well as a man. Your hands moved and threaded through his mop of hair as he licked and sucked, hardly letting up at all. One of the hands that held your thighs tightly moved to your lower stomach and pressed down to keep you from squirming, a hard grunt coming from his throat in warning. The other hand moved lower and rubbed at your clit in slow motions. It was all too much, the pleasure coursing through your veins, the realization that Ridoc was the one making you feel that good. You were a mess.

The fingers on your clit slipped lower and teased at your entrance a finger slipping in at a slow pace. You whine, trying to buck your hips forward in an attempt for it to go deeper.

"Ah ah, what did I say?" Your whines echo through the room at his words but you comply anyway, stopping your squirming. He makes a noise in approval before continuing his ministrations, adding another finger and pumping them gently, all while switching between long strokes and little licks with his tongue on your clit. Your body convulses when he curls his fingers into a spot that makes you see stars. Ridoc doesn't move fast in this process and doesn't try to bring you to your peak immediately. His strokes are consistent and thoughtful, he notices your reactions to every single one of his movements and plays to them. He's deliberate with his motions and brings you to peak gently, continuing his gestures throughout.

"Please, fuck me now, Ridoc, I don't want to wait," You tug at his hair trying to bring him up to kiss you. But he stays, lapping up your release before pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs. Then your stomach. All along your hips. No place is untouched by his lips. "Ridoc!" you beg louder, pulling harder at his hair. His hands grip your waist tighter, fingers digging with a pressure that you were sure to feel tomorrow. But he doesn't stop peppering your body with kisses, ignoring your words. "Baby please..."

"That's enough," he scolds, pulling on your hips and flipping you onto your stomach. He grabs your ass roughly before bringing his other hand down on it in a slap. You squeal at the act but pleasure runs through your core all the same. "You want to be fucked? Hm?" His voice degrading. "Let's see how you handle it then." He says before slapping his hand on your ass again and plunging into you in succession.

"Fuck!" your voice pitches at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

"Yeah? You begged for it, princess. Now take it," Ridoc's voice was rough and demanding, the sound of it made your mind reel. You let your body and mind give in to the feeling. The sound of his hips slapping your ass and the feeling of his balls hitting your clit with the angle made your head go foggy. All it was was you and Ridoc. Your bodies were one as he pounded into you. He fucked you hard, a contrast from just minutes ago when he was gently licking into your cunt, and you couldn't get enough of it.

You lean back and face Ridoc, watching the fucked out look on his face took you to a new level. You reached back to grab the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours. You needed him everywhere. "Please," you risk your words, "I want to look at you." His controlling guise fell for a moment as he gave in to your plea.

"Alright, sweetness" he listens, pulling out momentarily to turn you onto your front before plunging back into you. Moans tumble out of your mouth as you revel in the new angle, his cock pushing deeper into you. His head falls to the crook of your neck and he presses sloppy kisses all along you. You grasp at his face, needing to feel his lips on yours as you feel the resistance at your core pulling tighter. Your sounds get louder as you get closer and Ridoc's hand reaches down to play with your clit. "That's it, you're taking me so well." He groans out, his face turning up in pleasure. He was just as close as you were. It reaches you faster than it did the first time, the orgasm peaking quickly and hard. Ridoc fucks you through it, his thrusts growing sloppier as he gets closer. He looks at you with a questioning gaze.

"Fill me up, Ridoc, please," you answer his unasked question, knowing you were both on the fertility supplement that Basgiath provided. That was all the permission he needed before he thrust a few more times and spilled inside of you. The warm feeling almost brings you to finish a third time. His head falls to your chest as he breathes deeply, trying to catch his breath. You comb your fingers through his hair and press a kiss to the top of his head, a smile gently growing on your face.

He catches his breath for another moment before pulling out and standing. He picked through his clothes on the ground and slipped on his boxers and loose pants.

"Are you leaving?" you as suddenly, your voice tinged with fear. You sit up and try to cover yourself with your hands. Ridoc stands up straight, his long-sleeved shirt in hand.

"No, princess, don't worry," He smiles and hands you his shirt to put on before taking a tissue from your desk and moving closer to you. He gently pushes you to lay back again and brings the tissue to clean between your thighs. A soft gasp escapes you from the sensitivity, "Shh, sh, it's okay." Ridoc's voice was so soft, so thoughtful. Your heart melted as you thought of his earlier comments. He's liked you for so long now, more than he should in his words. You let him finish cleaning you and lay back in your bed, finding the covers and crawling under them, holding out the edge for Ridoc to come under as he walks back from turning off the light.

The moonlight that shined through the window barely illuminated your room as you lay next to Ridoc, he lay against your chest, arms wrapped around your waist. You rest your head atop his as your fingers trace the relic that Aotrom left him on the top of his muscular arm. He buries his head deeper into you before speaking.

"I don't think Cairis will be very happy about this," You laugh at his comment but know it's true, you let your shields down just slightly letting her presence flow through you.

"I'm not," her voice deadpan and sharp. Well, you can deal with it later.

"She'll get over it," You respond, letting your eye drift closed.

"Maybe, she'll learn from you and let Aotrom in," Ridoc thinks aloud, "He's very convinced that she's his mate and that she's going to give in soon enough. You did with me..." You smile, thinking of your dragons and the similarities you all share. You'd noticed it before, everyone had. Maybe it was just a matter of time before Cairis would give into Aotrom's relentlessness. You sort of hoped that she would if her feelings were anything like yours.

"Don't get your hopes up..." Cairis enters your head again, clearly annoyed.

You woke the next morning far too late, the early morning sun was shining through your window. Fuck. Your math exam. You sit up out of your bed quickly, noticing that Ridoc had already gone and you briefly remember him kissing you on the forehead before he left for his early watch duty before classes. You smile to yourself at the memories of last night, but only give yourself a second before rushing up and gathering all of your things for class and running straight there, knowing you'd already missed breakfast.

At least the math exam was first thing this morning so you could get it over with, but unfortunately, you were most definitely failing after not studying last night. The class was about to start as you entered and Violet waved a hand over to where she and the rest of the first years of your squad were sitting. Ridoc smirks at you and scoots over to make room for you. Your friends could tell by your panicked look that something was off.

"You okay?" Rhiannon asks from the other side of Ridoc.

"Yeah, you look tired. How was studying last night?" Sawyer says, turning from his seat in front of you to join the conversation, his nose only healed and not mended telling from the bruises. Before you had the chance to respond Ridoc interjects.

"We uh...didn't get much studying done last night if you know what I mean," he swings his arm over your shoulder and draws you close, planting a kiss on your cheek. You push him away out of annoyance.

"Ridoc!" you chide. "We didn't even talk about if we were going to tell anyone!" you say lower talking only to him.

"What the fuck?!" Rhi shouts, gaining the attention of the rest of the class before grimacing and quieting down.

"They were gonna find out sooner or later, princess, I can't keep my fucking hands off you," he explains, diving in again and pressing another kiss to your neck this time. Shivers run down your spine at the feeling before you remember where you are and push him off of you again.

"What happened?" Violet asks leaning in on the other side of you, Ridoc's hand now moving to grab at your thigh, she looks away in disgust at the sight, "Never mind, I don't want to know..." she fakes a gag, and Rhi and Sawyer look to each other with a mass of confusion before breaking out in laughter.

"They fucked, obviously," Liam says casually from the other side of Violet where he's working on a wood carving.

"Thanks, Liam, like they hadn't gathered that already..." you say sarcastically and bury your head in your hands.

"I'm scarred," Sawyer says, barely able to contain his laughs. You groan in embarrassment as the professor walks in and starts giving directions on the exam. Yep. You were failing. Ridoc caught the worry in your face and he leaned into you.

"It's okay, princess, you can cheat off me," he winks and leans back away, but leaves his hand on your thigh still, giving it a light squeeze. Shit. It was going to be hard to focus now. 

[parker-artio]

It’s snowing so much outside that there’s a snowstorm watch in my area, and I hate the snow. So now all I can think about is that person who was flooding and thought about Gotham during a flood. Which is making me think about Gotham during a snowstorm.

So please, enjoy me try and project my hatred for the snow onto Damian (since he’s one of my favorites).

The snowstorm just started, Mr. Freeze was out of Arkham, he was practically using the cold to make it easier for him to move around, but no one could even try to go stop him. It was snowing so much, people were getting stuck inside of buildings, and unable to get home.

Thankfully, Batman has snow shoes specially made so the Batfamily can all walk on top of the snow, and get everyone out and to safety. Snow plows were rented by Bruce Wayne for five times the initial price to run until they couldn’t no more from the snow.

The winds would definitely be strong enough to pick up anyone wearing their cape, making Batman, Robin, Batgirl, Batwoman, ect to all ditch the cape. Nightwing and Red Hood are taking much delight in how they’re reacting to not having their capes. They’re used to using them to just wrap up in when they’re cold, but unless they want to fly around like their kryptonian friends, they had to ditch them. But not Cass. I fully believe that even with her being on the smaller side compared to the rest of her family who are all tall asf and built like fridges, she could stand her ground against the wind. (Or she could just learn how to glide like a flying squirrel.)

The snow is getting in anyone’s face who doesn’t wear a domino mask or any eye covering (aka Steph), Spoiler keeps complaining and everyone will laugh. But then two seconds later they’ll get it up their nose or mouth. She laughs right back at them.

In the Watch Tower, Barbara ignores all of their complaints of being cold, and reminds them that ''It’s only 5°F. It’s not that cold''. Meanwhile she’s snuggled up in a couple blankets, the heat up to 82°, and she’s got her hot chocolate she put some whipped cream, cinnamon, and some grated chocolate on. No one finds her funny. (Dick might, but not until he ditches the rooftops where he’s lowering down ropes to help civilians out because all of the doors are blocked, and shows up to warm up for a bit.)

Jason is running around Crime Alley with about a box as heavy as he is, full of blankets. He quickly remembers that a ton of the roofs in Crime Alley have water damage and are falling apart, the walls and windows too. So what does he do? He helps them all get into a Wayne Enterprises homeless shelter for the time of the storm. Which is funded by Bruce Wayne (obviously). It has about 700 back up generators in case the power would go out, private showers, central heating (constantly set at 75°F), way too many blankets, too many pillows, about 200 mattresses that Bruce Wayne replaces every five years, washing machines, a huge room just dedicated to the clothes Bruce buys, and dozens other donate, shoes too. (It’s basically just better than any average home from low class to middle class families in the US.)

Duke is trying to fight Mr. Freeze, he’s got the best chance, since he can turn invisible and everything. Anytime he looked remotely in his direction, he shines a light off of the snow and into his eyes so he stunned. In the end Mr. Freeze will get captured, but he’s definitely seeing colors he didn’t know were possible to be seen. He saw so many bright lights. He hates any kind of light around snow now. Duke had to specifically drag him in too, the GCPD can’t exactly drive their cars and take him to Arkham, not when the roads are so bad that one wrong move he’d be free.

Tim is going around and helping people who were actually home when they got snowed in. If they’re low on food, he’ll bring them a basket of food that was pre-packed back at the Manor by Alfred. If their power is out he brings back a generator and gets the power back on. Their water heater is out? He calls a friend (Lucius) and he talks him through how to fix it so it won’t go out again. If their pipes freeze he helps in any ways he can. Basically he’s helping the damsels in distress (or dudes in distress).

Kate, Steph, Luke, and Selina are helping the people Batman, Robin, Nightwing, and Orphan get out of building back to their homes. If any of them report an issue at their home, they say it in the comms while getting a blanket (idk where it came from, just imagine they can fit it in their utility belt) and say that Red Robin will be there to help. Then they go to a meetup point where a couple civilians will be dropped off by Batman, Robin, Nightwing, or Orphan and help someone else home- or multiple people if it’s a family or a couple people from the same area.

Damian is not having a good time. Not even after the flow is set. Hes cold. He hates it. He prefers the heat, and honestly, he wishes his suit had both the thermal layer like his father and Todd’s, and the internal heater like Drake, Richard, Brown, and Cain’s. But nonetheless, his is just made to regulate his body temperature no matter the outside weather. He hates the cold, he hates the snow. He wants to go home and lay in bed with about a dozen blankets, the heat up to 90°F, a heated blanket, and all of his pets to cuddle. Just because he can easily withstand the cold doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Cass is helping civilians out through skylights, upper floor windows, fire escapes, if it’s not a front door or back door, she’s helping people out through it. She gets them to where Kate, Steph, Luke, and Selina are and then goes off again. The civilians are surprisingly having the time of their life. She grapples around while holding them, and it feels like they’re flying. (She also holds them effortlessly no matter how much they weigh- it will awaken something in a couple of them.)

Dick is switching back and forth between team A (Batman, Robin, Orphan, and him) and at the Watch Tower where he can warm up and help Babs with the queue of places Red Robin needs to stop by (maybe helping by doing a place or two), so she can focus on making sure no one else try’s to attack while all of them are focused on helping everyone to safety.

Steph is called anytime anyone is hurt beyond a simple injury anyone else can tend to. (I firmly believe she is a med a student- nothing will change my mind that this girl is not a broke college student who regularly has the intake of sugar and caffeine that could kill a hippo.) She usually tends to them as well as she can with her firsts aid kit and utility belt, before taking them to the ER (if they need it), and making sure they seen because of the coldness mixed with an injury could lead to hypothermia easier or even cause an infection from the snow that could lead to an amputation if not caught on early enough.

Alfred is back at the Batcave, also on the comms, but he’s racking together about 600 generators, 1,000 crates of food ranging from multiple kinds of milks, and way too many non-perishables. If anyone stops by the cave he gives them a weighted cape and those hand warmer things.

When things slow down, Selina starts going around and helping stray’s, she either takes them home or to a shelter she trusts. (Damian may or may not tag along and take a few home with him. If Bruce sees any new cats around the manor Selina pleads the fifth, and Damian pleads the first and fourth. Bruce does not win.)

Luke will stop by his family’s house and grabs stuff his dad made if it will help. (He’s doing it for Tim, but he doesn’t admit it, at least until he stops by one of the houses where the water heater is broken and fixes it in a quarter of the time it’d take Tim.)

Kate thrives. She prefers the cold, especially with how thick she made her suit by accident, and the amount of hair extensions she added to the suit don’t help much either. Sure she feels cold, but she’s moving way too much to react.

Bruce… well he just wants to go home.

[theocddiaries]

Rouge: Come on, Abe, it's not that bad. The boiler was twenty years old, it's normal that we have to replace it. Abraham: That's not the point, Rouge. I've been here as long as that boiler, and I'm twice as burned out. Rouge: Oh, please, you're just saying that because you had to chip in and you're in a bad mood. Abraham: No. I'm too bored to even get mad anymore. It's the same thing every day. You don't believe me? What time is it? Rouge: Around noon. Abraham: You forgot your lunch, didn't you? [Rouge hisses.] Abraham: Aha. That means your brother is about to storm in, swearing up and down that he won't cook for you anymore because if you're going to be that ungrateful, you might as well spend money at the cafeteria. And then he'll leave, slamming the door. Rouge: Well— [Shadow enters without knocking and throws the tupperware at Rouge like a frisbee.] Shadow: Here, choke on it. I'm done. Tomorrow, you eat at the cafeteria, because I'm not coming here every damn day to see these miserable people just because you can't be responsible with food I went through hell to cook for you. [storms off, slamming the door] Abraham: And that's just round one. Now, he's so pissed he forgot to ask you for the visitor's pass he needs to leave. That is, unless he punches a hole through the wall, which, honestly, I'd appreciate, because at least something different would happen. Rouge: Oh, come on, Abraham. Shadow is mad at life itself, and the only reason I don’t forget my head is because it’s attached to my body. Anyone could’ve seen that coming. Abraham: Okay, then. Now, Topaz is going to show up late with an excuse that involves two relatives and a vegetable. [Topaz comes running, knocks on the door, and opens it, her face red and panting from the sprint.] Topaz: Hello, Commander. Uh, sorry for being late, but my cousin's rabbit got loose, and her mom and I were chasing it all over Square with a carrot. Hehe, well, I'll get to my post now. [leaves before they can say anything] Abraham: And now, you'll hear Rockwell yelling because someone ate her brownie, only to realize she already ate it herself and then blame everyone else anyway. Rockwell [from the break room]: Where the hell is my food?! I am SICK of nobody respecting ANYTHING in this damn pla-- Oh, wait, I already ate it. I came here for a napkin… You guys are driving me crazy! I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore!!! Abraham: And now you're going to tell me I'm just having a bad day and that I need a hug. [glances at her] [Rouge lowers her arms, scratching the back of her head] Rouge: Well, uh… look, if a job like ours has monotony, that’s a good sign, isn’t it? Abraham: Probably. But that’s not what’s getting to me. The worst part is that nobody here gives a damn about what happens to me. [Abraham gets up, looking downcast, and opens the door, stepping aside just in time for Shadow, who indeed came back to ask Rouge for the visitor's pass.] Shadow: Rouge, please, give me the-- [looks Abraham up and down]: Abraham, are you alright? Abraham: It's none of your business, gossip. [walks off] Shadow: Hope your day gets worse then, asshole. Rouge: That’s one habit I’m getting sick of too…

[pedrosgrogu]

Born Too Late - Chapter 13

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Warnings: so much fucking angst it literally isnt funny. soft!joel

Summary: You're embarking on a journey of self discovery. Of things that make YOU feel good. Like setting boundaries, and getting your dream job! But that means leaving Sarah, and Joel. You actively don't think about it, until you have to. (1.7k+)

a/n: okay so shoutout to @frankensteingotwet because their vision literally inspired this chapter. ive been so down the dumps w this fic because of many reasons and im so sorry this took so long. but, if you've stuck around this long, this ones for you too. leave a like or a comment or a reblog, they mean the world. love u all bunches xoxoxo ps still figuring out writing from other POVs and boarders. :P bear with me pps didnt proof this so sorry for any errors :/

Chapter 12 - Masterlist - Chapter 14 (coming soon)

boarders: @evansyhelp

It’s been a few months since the fallout with Joel and things are relatively the same. Every so often there's muffins on the porch or you bring Sarah home, but you leave his spare key under the flowerpot and you don’t go out of your way to speak to him. 

You try to tell yourself you’re healing. You tell yourself that in order to heal you need to take more time. More time to think, more time to find yourself. But what you’ve actually done is build a wall. A wall so tall and so thick that not even the Romans themselves could conquer it. A wall so strong that a meteor would barely scratch its surface. 

But despite that big ass wall, you’re trying to get back out there. You’re trying to fix the shit that you didn’t even break. Trying to be better for yourself. You’ve gone on a handful of dates but none of them made it past the first one. The first guy, Bryan, wouldn’t shut the fuck up about how damaged he was from his ex, and the second guy, Carter, didn’t talk at all. The third? You don’t even remember his name because he didn’t show. Or at least you don't think he did. You sat alone at the bar 15 minutes past when he was supposed to get there before you blocked his number and left. Men these days make you want to become a fucking nun. 

Work is fine, and you still occasionally bring Sarah home but don’t stick around for casual conversation. You don't ask how he is or about his recent jobs. You decline many coffee invitations, and leave little room for misinterpretation. You might be trying to get back out there, but not with him. 

The more you think about your relationship(?) with Joel, you want to smack yourself. It’s like you had red fucking glasses on and couldn’t see the flags. But you were no saint either, which is why you don’t think it will ever work. There's too much shit that you both did that screams “WE ARE SO TOXIC, ESPECIALLY TO EACH OTHER!” 

Your most recent life development has been preparing to take the middle school social studies Praxis exam, your dream job. And you’ve told no one. Not even Penny. Again, “protecting your peace” or whatever self-help journey you think you’re on. 

After months of studying, you take the Praxis. And you pass. With flying fucking colors. Your excitement can’t be contained and you call Penny. She answers after 2 rings. 

“My sweet Yellow!! How are you?!” she basically screams into the phone. 

“So good Pen. You have no idea!” you pause, barely able to get the words out. 

“I passed my test! My test to teach middle school social studies-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” She screams so loud you have to pull the phone away from your ear. 

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SEE HOW ELEMENTARY WAS? REGARDLESS.. AHHHH!! YELLOW I'M SO EXCITED FOR YOU!!” 

“I know I know!! I considered it but I really want a change, and I want it now. I think it’ll be good for me. I'm even considering taking a position at the charter school which means I’ll have to possibly move so I'm not driving a borderline 40 minutes to work everyday but I'm excited.” you say, feeling like this is the first right decision you’ve made since you moved here. 

“You know I support you, no matter what. But…” she trails off

“Spit it out Pen. You’re making me nervous.” You say, chuckling in both joy and anxiety. 

“But… I’ll be moving back at the end of July. I'm going to finish my doctorate at UT Austin. I love Ireland so much but with everything going on at home with moms health and being far from my friends, I just think it's time for me to come home.” she says, more cheery than you’d expect. 

“I haven't really figured out the logistics yet, but I’ll definitely be back. I found an apartment that's about halfway between my moms and campus.” 

You speak lightly, empathy lining every word. “Oh Pen, I'm so sorry. I know how much Ireland means to you.” 

“Hey, I got all my clinical shit done so really all that's left is my dissertation. But I’ve got to finish some stuff up here before I head out for the evening. I'm so glad you called. We have so much to catch up on. I'll text you, and we can schedule something, kay? I love ya. Soooooo so much.” 

“I love you too Pen!” you say, clicking the phone shut. 

You accept the position at the charter school and inform your current school that you won’t be returning. It feels like a weight off your chest, knowing that you’ll soon be in a new town miles and miles from here. But your stomach churns at the thought of having to tell Joel, having to tell Sarah. Be away from Sarah. From Joel. But you’re healing. You’re getting the fuck over it. 

The rest of the school year flies by. Everyday is like the last. Wake up, go to work, take Sarah home occasionally and avoid small talk with Joel, maybe eat, sleep, repeat. You browse newspapers and websites for homes to rent, not finding anything worth calling about. You start to worry the closer to July you get but push it to the back of your mind.

With one week of school left, your kids are beyond done. They’re so mentally checked out from school it's like having 23 little zombies everyday. On the last day, you receive that same “Hey works running late, can you hang with Sarah?” text from Joel and the answer is always the same bland “Of course!”. 

You guys jam out to Sum 41 on the way home and do all the basics; homework, some version of spa day, dinner, and a movie. 

You both fall asleep on the couch watching Freaky Friday, and don’t even notice Joel come in. Sarah is splayed across the couch, her head using your thigh as a pillow and her feet hanging off the edge. You have your hand sitting on her head, fingers nestled in her hair like she's a baby needing the external stimuli to fall asleep. 

*Joel's POV*

Things never really changed after that last conversation, and her words play in Joel’s head like a broken record, stuck skipping on the same groove over and over. “Joel, respectfully, you were an ass to me the day we met. You don’t treat someone you care about this much, like that”. It makes him want to punch a wall every goddamn time he thinks about it, because she's right. He was an ass.  

But on that night, the night on her porch, he was vulnerable. Soft. Like a butterfly on its first day out of the cocoon. But her blinds never opened back up. And she never took the key, never accepted coffee dates, and never stuck around for banter after Sarah was asleep. It hit him like a ton of fucking bricks everytime he saw her. 

Especially when he saw her leave at night in mini-skirts and heels, knowing that someone else was getting to see her. Getting to touch her porcelain skin. Kiss her strawberry lips. Run their fingers through her walnut colored locks. It made him spiral, but she said she needed space. But how much space is too much? How much before she's gone for good? He wishes he knew. But for now, even just seeing you for 5 minutes when he gets home late will be enough. It has to be. 

It’s been months and he’s trying to accept the new normal. But when he comes home and Sarah is splayed across the couch with head in your lap and your fingers tangled in her coils, it shoots a wave of pain and agony through his once strong body. His eyes overflowed at the sight. How could he fuck up something so goddamn perfect? Despite anything you ever did, it would never compare to the shit he put you through. He felt like he was drowning, and needed to calm himself down. He quietly sneaks off to his bathroom and tries to wash away the negative thoughts running rampant through his mind. 

He throws on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, combing his chocolate curls from his eyes. Walking out, his steps echo through the house. The TV must've auto shut off and the only sound heard is the hum of the refrigerator mixed with the soft snores of his 2 favorite girls. He dreads having to disturb either of you. You both look so peaceful, holding onto each other like your lives depend on it. He rubs his thumb across your cheek, soft as not to wake you. Knowing it would only cause more turmoil. He sighs, scooping Sarah off your lap. You barely stir, mumbling softly as Joel carries Sarah to her room. He comes back and you’re burrowed into the couch, your hair covering your eyes. 

*Readers POV*

“Hey” Joel whispers, standing over you, but you don’t move. 

He crouches down so he's now eye level with her “Sweet girl, I’m home” 

“Yellow? You gotta wake up. Sarahs already in bed.” He says, a little louder this time, rubbing your shoulder, your skin so hot it makes him feel like he’s going up in flames. His heart is full of desire, and regret. 

You stir, eyes crinkling open. “Hey Joel. Where’s Sarah?” your voice groggy and light. His heart melting at the mere sound of it. 

“I took her to bed, ya both were knocked out on the couch.” he says, flashing you a quick smile. 

She stretches, becoming more conscious as the seconds pass. 

And then it hits you. The thought of having to tell Joel that you’re moving makes your stomach churn, but it needs to be done. You want him to have time to arrange her transportation next year. 

“Joel?” you ask, your mouth salivating because of how nauseous you are.. “Can we talk?” you say, sitting up. 

“Always. I actually need to ask you something too.” He sits beside you, but not too close. His honey brown eyes meeting yours, looking at you rather than through you. 

You both sit in silence, just staring. And almost as if the same spit it out bug bites you both in the ass at the same damn time,

“I’m moving.�� “Can you keep Sarah for me some days this summer?” 

And a singular tear rolls down Joel’s cheek.

[naridabarbi]

I'm not usually one for odd pairings or pairing azzi with other people outside of paige or oc but I really liked that azzi and juju pairing. Would you consider another one with those two?

"YOU STILL MAD?"

pairing - juju watkins x azzi fudd

word count - idk tbh

c/w- language, angst if you squint, tension i guess?

a/n - surprisingly everyone approved the first one shot I did of them, I didn't get any backlash, so here I am again, answering another request. I'm still scared to write the smut tho...

Azzi Fudd had been avoiding Juju Watkins all game. Or at least, she’d been trying to. But Juju? Juju was making it impossible.

Every time Azzi tried to cut off a passing lane, Juju was right there, fingers grazing Azzi’s hip like she had every right to touch her. Setting a screen? Juju used it as an excuse to slide a hand around Azzi’s waist, lightly shifting her out of the way.

“Chill out,” Azzi muttered the third time it happened, glaring up at Juju.

Juju smirked, only making Azzi’s irritation grow. “Just playing defense, Mama.”

Azzi rolled her eyes at the nickname. “You’re ridiculous.”

Juju shrugged, completely unbothered. “You love it.”

Azzi did not, in fact, love it. Or at least, she wasn’t supposed to anymore. That was the whole point of a breakup, right?

Yet, when Juju pressed against her on a drive to the basket, their arms tangling together for a second too long, Azzi felt her breath hitch.

She wasn’t the only one affected. She could tell by the way Juju’s fingers flexed against her jersey, the way her jaw clenched just before she backed away.

But Juju was shameless.

“Miss me?” Juju murmured when she lined up next to Azzi for a free throw.

Azzi refused to look at her. “I miss my peace.”

Juju laughed, that deep, warm sound that made something twist in Azzi’s stomach. “Liar.”

Azzi clenched her jaw, forcing herself to focus. But USC was in rhythm, and despite Azzi’s best efforts, they pulled away for the win.

She didn’t even make it to the locker room before she found Juju waiting in the tunnel, leaning casually against the wall like she owned the place.

“You good?” Juju asked, all innocence.

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “No, I’m not good. You were doing the absolute most out there, Watkins.”

Juju grinned. “It’s called basketball, Fudd. Physical game, you know.”

Azzi scoffed, stepping closer, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Grabbing my waist? Running your hand down my arm? That wasn’t basketball, Juju. That was you being a—”

“A what?” Juju stepped forward too, closing the space between them.

Azzi’s breath caught, but she refused to back down. “A manipulator.”

Juju hummed, gaze flickering to Azzi’s lips. “You love that about me, though.”

Azzi opened her mouth to argue, but then Juju’s hand was on her hip again—just like during the game—but this time, there was no one around to stop them.

The tension snapped.

Azzi surged forward at the same time Juju did, their lips colliding in a heated, desperate kiss. It was messy, all the frustration from the game spilling over. Juju’s hands tightened around Azzi’s waist, pulling her flush against her, and Azzi let her, gripping the back of Juju’s jersey to keep her close.

When they finally pulled away, both of them breathing hard, Juju smirked. “You still mad?”

Azzi narrowed her eyes but didn’t move away. “So mad.”

Juju grinned, dipping down for another kiss. “Good.”

[sydneys-adamu]

okay but carmy and sydney’s conversation (or lack thereof) in apologies is just in direct opposition to their talk under the table and it’s,,, unbelievably delicious.

like optics wise the lighting, writing and direction are incredibly sterile and cold and silent (notice there’s absolutely no track playing behind them). carmy and syd are almost as far as they can get from each other while still having a conversation where as under the table they were as close as they could get without literally being on top of each other. and the difference is so distinct because it’s cold and disconnected but there’s one thing that connects these two scenes and actually holds the essence of who these two are to each other.

it’s the want. the want is still there.

you deserve my full focus. / I don’t want it to be so hard to keep up with me.

what if I just fuck up and fail? / I don’t think it’s my place to be [at ever]

I won’t let you. / it’s ever. you should come.

you’re not alone. / you should get some rest.

neither are you. / you good?

both times, no matter how close or far, the conversation can’t end with sydney feeling like a fuck up or undeserving despite the fact that carmen is unaware that is exactly how he’s making her feel not through his words but his actions.

it’s difficult, because he’s not trying to inflict this on her but he is and it’s making her spiral. sydney can’t find the words to bring it up so it’s left at “I’ve been wanting to talk about…” and “I wanna run something by you…” they’re frozen. and they’ve both been since friends and family.

but the thing is that being frozen doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other or that they want it to be this way it’s clear as day that they do not. they both hate the way things are and at this point carmy doesn’t see a reason he even deserves sydney’s concern. that’s why when she asks how he is he starts talking about a plate. a lifeless dish that carmy can’t seem to leave alone. even when syd tries to reach out to him he still wants it perfect for her so much that he’s pushed her out. just like he was during demo they’re all the same patterns.

one talk under a table was never gonna fix everything but it was a fundamental start. they have to keep growing from half truths and unfinished conversations even when they get uncomfortable. they have to work through the good and bad, the comfort of the bear not being open yet versus the reality of this life together they chose. the one they explicitly want together but don’t know how to handle yet.

it’s just a process that they’re handling like real people and it’s everything. literally everything to see them grow and see how painfully non-linear it is for them both. but all roads lead somewhere and both of theirs are heading straight toward each other until eventually they’re gonna fucking crash.

@ambeauty said this amazing thing about their inability to have a conversation above a table and it never left my head

[moeblob]

What Deacon thinks: what did that mean? did he want me to wear a collar too? why else would he mention my neck? i mean, if he /asked/ me i would wear one but he didn't so would wearing one be weird?

What Ymber meant: It's nice to be near someone who isn't tethered to this world to serve it with a physical reminder for all to see.

[speakercrab666]

if horror game in horror genre, then why monster have scary face???? i want horror game!!! NO SCARY FACE!!!!!!!!! only horror game <3

[mirmidones]

ok bitter bitch moment, but i HATE when people repeatedly do not even try themselves to do something and just want me to do it for them.

even when it's something absolutely idiotic, like idk, bc of construction works the main entrance to the school is closed but there is literally a sign on the door that explains how else to enter. all you have to do is read and follow instruction. it's not like i did anything different yesterday when i got there. "nooo i still dont know im scared ill wait for you outside so you can show me" why. just get the fuck inside. or like when they ask me the time schedule literally everyday and at one point im like. or you could look it the fuck up. yknow. just how i do. since it is a class you also want to attend. it's not like the school desk calls me personally to let me and only me know. "what trains do i have to take to come see you?" i dont know, what trains are there? why cant you do it for yourself . and like i obviously dont mind being asked for help and offering help in general. i do mind it when people my own age start treating me like im their second mom or something. and i know it takes 2, i could just shut up and not be helpful but then most of the times it damages me as well as them and when it doesnt it is still super fucking annoying bc i have to sit there and listen to them whine and do nothing about anything and just. idk. patiently pretend to feel anything other that pure rage. and that does feel like a waste of my time

[anotherpapercut]

thank you for your service on the fall out boy genius lyrics o7

lmao tysm I'm really fighting for my life out here trying to get my lyric corrections for so good right now approved. as an autistic person minute inconsistencies are my whole bread and butter. I must do my duty to the fobbies o7