#i can lay down fully and there will be a little bit of space left

[bubblingcolaa]

I HAVE SERVICE OUT HERE Y'ALL

Anywho headcanon time (I think)

Uhh. Simon likes camping. A lot. I feel like he would just have a lot of experience. Maybe he's part of the outdoor ed in school or something or his parents took him camping a lot.

And that's a reason why he could help Ralph with building the huts because, uhh

More drawings-

[plethorawrites]

ahh your recent clark kent drabble has me so dizzy ,, him begging you not to make noise and he’d probably force his fingers into your mouth, down your throat, your little gags probably wouldn’t be much better, but better for him than hearing your moans 😩

MY PHONE FLEWWW FROM MY HAND WHEN I SAW THIS!!! But I absolutely see the vision! (This was longer and more explicit than planned. Oops? If anyone asks, I didn't write this and if you know me irl... please alert me so I can off myself)

Clark Kent, who adores having that little loft space in the barn because it's the perfect quiet spot for you and him to spend time together when his parents are home or you just don't want to risk getting caught. His couch is pretty comfortable too, so when he lays you down on it, it's more than enough space for you, even if he's barely able to fit on top of you.

It's usually peaceful, the two of you with just just enough privacy to make some noise without getting caught and just enough lack of it to add to the thrill of being in front of an open barn window while you're vertical. Despite not really fitting on it, he wouldn't dare complain when he had you laying under him, your legs intertwined with his, head tilted back against the arm rest as you held onto his neck.

If freezing time was one of his powers, he'd use it right then and there to memorize everything about this moment—your open lips, which were puffy from him biting on them and the bruises darkening on your neck as the seconds passed. The messy strands of your hair sticking to your face, which was flushed and glowing in the dim lighting. It's like his own persona heaven.

Or, it was, until he heard the barn door slide open.

He'd tried to stop, when he heard it, honestly, he did. Clark could see your eyes snap open, panic replacing your bliss, and wanted desperately to make you go back to babbling his name again. But considering his dad was below them, searching for something, that seemed like a bad idea.

After a few moments of complete stillness, he couldn't handle it anymore, and regardless of the risk, held your hips as he slowly went back to what he was doing, thrusting in and out of you. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, eyes trained on you as you try, very weakly to quietly argue with him about pausing and getting dressed, but before your argument even fully leaves your lips it's cut off with a whimper.

He shushes you, his eyes getting serious the way they sometimes did when something was important to him. One of his hands left your hips to readjust the blanket that was loosely draped over both of your waists and thighs, bringing you a tad of comfort before another, much louder moan, left your lips.

His hand immediately went to your mouth, his teeth clenching as he panted heavily, pressing his face to your neck, sucking another hickey on it, before pulling away to look at you. Your eyes met his for a moment before they rolled back and your spine arched a bit.

"You're getting there, aren't you?" You whispered in your ear, feeling you fall apart for him. "Go ahead," he encouraged. "Just stay quiet." His hand dug further into your hip and another of your whines was absorbed by his hand. "Shhh, quiet," he said again. "You gotta be careful."

You were trying. Honestly.

You could hear his dad throwing boxes around, looking for something and struggling to find it. He pulled your leg up, wrapping it around his waist and the movement, the way you could feel him so much better made another, much louder moan leave your lips.

Clark winced, pressing his face to your neck to muffle himself as his hand pushed harder against your lips. Your hand gripped his wrist tightly and he cursed under his breath. "I know, I know you don't like having your mouth covered, I'm sorry," he apologized, kissing your cheek. "It's just for a little bit."

You shook your head weakly, protesting and he gritted his teeth, his head swimming as he tried to balance too many thoughts at once. His hand left your mouth, two of his fingers pushing past your lips. "Is this better?" He asked, panting against your neck as his fingers pressed down on your tongue, sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag.

The sound made him moan, and he buried his face against your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo for a moment. Your hand dragged down his back, and his head fell, pressing his forehead to your shoulder for a moment.

"That's it," he praised, his fingers sliding in and out of your mouth, exploring it. "So much quieter like this." Some box went thud against the floor below but all he cared about was the feeling of your tongue under the pads of his fingertips as they pushed towards the back of your throat, eliciting little gags from you. He lifted his head, kissing your forehead, your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

Clark's teeth sink into your shoulder as he reaches his climax, trying to keep himself as quiet as possible by biting down on your flesh, the sharp canine teeth causing you to yelp. His fingers forced their way so far back in your throat you felt like you were choking, but it successfully stole the sound of pain from your mouth.

His teeth left your skin after a moment and he soothed the area with his tongue, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You're doing so well for me," he promised you, his fingers messaging your tongue as he felt your body go rigid under him. "Just like that, sweetheart. Keep gagging for me."

The next sound to leave your mouth was the loudest, but once again, his fingers swallowed the noise before it even left your mouth. They scraped the back of your throat, tears pricked in your eyes as you gagged, your entire body tensing up before going completely slack.

His fingers gently slid back out of your mouth and laid his head on your shoulder as his entire weight slowly crushed you. He buried his face in your neck, his hands finding your hair and threading through the locks.

"You're perfect," he mumbles, gently massaging your scalp, pushing your hair around, tangling it. "So damn perfect," he repeated again, out of breath and exhausted as he placed another kiss to your neck.

[rafecameronsleftbicep]

want more, rafe cameron

When reader and Rafe have been sneaking around with each other for the last two months, y/n can't help but want more. Bringing this up with him, she's under the impression he's embarrassed to be seen with a pogue.

warnings: swearing, insecurities, arguing, mentions of sex, angst, always a sucker for a happy ending though, it's a looong one <33

pairing: rafe cameron x fwbpogue!reader

Y/n was sat on the little bench outside her small home, right by the water as the wind blew through her hair. Her knees were tucked up to her chin as the kook boy who usually plagued her thoughts did just that, sink into her mind.

It was never meant to be more than a good time, something to pass the summer. He made her feel good - in more ways than one - he would take her out on dates, whisper sweet words to her, and the way he looked at her. She could swear he was in love, that he was just as infatuated with her as she was him. But the way he only took her to private and secluded places, the way his words were the most affectionate when he was deep inside her, the way he would put space between them whenever he saw someone he recognised. These small things, things he may not even realise he does, they all reminded her that she wasn't anything to him. He would never let himself fully be hers, he could never let his reputation fall like that.

He gave her just enough that she felt completely and utterly consumed by him. Craved his attention, his touch, even a small message would complete her day. However, as time went on she knew she needed more, she knew that she couldn't bear much more before she completely lost herself to please him.

"Come over" The message catches her attention, the illuminated screen laying on the bench beside her pulling her from her wandering thoughts.

She knew the message was from Rafe before her eyes even flicked to the screen, she never really had anyone else calling on her. It wasn't that she didn't have any friends, but she wasn't one to go out and the friends she kept knew that.

A couple weeks ago, she would've been on her way to his before she could even start replying, no thought needed except the thought of being in his proximity. Now, however, she was tired. Tired and sad, feeling pathetic really after spending so long thinking about him.

"feeling tired tonight. sorry, rafe" She replies slowly, her heart pounding as she sends it. She turns her phone back off, yet before she can place her phone back down her screen lights up with another message from him.

"Please, baby. I need you" He responds, her heart sinks. She doesn't know how much more she can stand up for herself, fighting that craving feeling she has for him.

"not in the mood rn tbh" She tries to stay strong, holding onto that tiny bit of dignity she has left in her.

"Don't even need to fuck"

"Just wanna be close to you"

Her heart pounds faster and her breathing is shaky. Fingers hovering over her illuminated screen. Every possible message she could write spinning though her head.

"you can come over then" She types out, deletes and types out again. She had never been so unsure in herself before, never doubted her own thoughts like this. But she sends it, stopping herself from contemplating and worrying further.

Rafe had been to her place a couple of times before, only ever to pick her up. Each visit shorter than the last, hurrying to leave as if humiliated to be caught in such a place. It made her feel ashamed of who she was, how she grew up and she felt even more embarrassed that she let a guy make her feel so insecure about something that could never change, something that literally made her who she was.

"Coming" The phone lights up for a last time in her hands and when her eyes run over the message she is filled with surprise and even more shame as her heart warms for him. She knows that him visiting her is the bare minimum. That being able to step foot in the place she calls home should not be seen as a difficult task. But she feels happy that he's coming to see her because he wants to.

She sits with her pathetic thoughts as she waits for him. Curling up on the bench as she watches the way the pearly moonlight glimmers across the waves perfectly. The soft wind sending chills down her spine and strands of her hair across her face.

"Y/n?" She hears his voice call out and for a moment she feels like she's lost hers. "Baby?"

"Yeah, around here" She replies softly as she sees him bend round the corner of her home. She has a tiny smile on her face, never fully reaching her eyes.

"Something wrong, pretty girl?" He mutters softly as he moves to sit next to her on the bench. He's dressed in sweats and she can only assume he's been relaxing at home prior to coming over. He gently takes her bare legs and slides them onto his lap. He can't help but let his eyes rake over her perfect body. The way she looks so small in his shirt he must've let her borrow once and some pyjama shorts. Yet for the first time, he puts aside his vulgar thoughts because he can tell she's unhappy.

Her eyes look into his, the way he's cracked open her feelings so easily, reading her like a book despite keeping a wall up of his own. Her breath shaky again as she gives a small shrug, her eyes dropping down to his hands. The way his thumb gently runs back and forth over her knee.

"Talk to me" He says softly, the crease between his brows deepening as he loses her gaze.

"Do you even care?" She voices gently. Not looking at him, to maintain the little power she has left over herself.

"What?" He mumbles with confusion, his body straightening up as he didn't expect such blunt thoughts from her.

"Do you even care that I'm upset? Or what I'm upset about?" She mumbles a bit louder as her gaze moves back over to the glistening waves ahead of them.

"O-of course I do, I don't understand?" He mutters as his thumb stops the stroking and instead slides to her chin, moving her face to look at him.

"I mean we aren't dating, and it feels like you've never really cared about how I feel outside the sex." She tells him for the first time. The tension feels suffocating, yet at the same time the weight off her shoulders is so liberating.

"That's what you think?" He asks her, a strong tone of annoyance or maybe disappointment.

The eye contact between them so intense that she feels as though she needs to take a deep breath before replying or she might pass out. "That's exactly how it feels." She admits gently with a shrug.

"That's not what this is." He says firmly, shaking his head as his hand slips off her chin and runs down his face with a huff.

"You're embarrassed to be seen with me. Face it, Rafe. It's not like we're dating. You only keep me around for a good fuck." She says shakily, running off adrenaline and the fact that there's no use stopping now that she's started.

"You don't embarrass me, I'm just not ready to make things official." He tells her unwaveringly, yet his eyes darting towards the water, the ground, her. Everything about his body and words make him seem so secure in himself. Yet his eyes express all his true emotions, how hesitant and insecure he really feels.

"God, Rafe. You can barely be seen with me, and I can't bear to be just some girl you fuck and take out secretly." She tells him, her throat feeling scratchy and sore as her eyes water lightly. She curses herself for getting so emotional, it wasn't even that serious yet she couldn't keep herself together.

His heart breaks, pained as she expresses her feelings to him, pained as he watches her fall apart in front of him. "I'm sorry for making you feel that way." He mutters gently.

"Don't be. You never promised me anything more than what you've given me." She shakes her head gently, as her eyes look at the side of his face.

"I want to give you more, I want to promise you the world." He whispers with his head in his hands.

"I can't continue feeling like this, Rafe." She tells him softly, "I can't handle craving you privately."

"I didn't know you felt like this..." He replies shamefully, his hands sliding down his face as he turns to look at her with torment. His eyes are glossy and his jaw is clenched, he doesn't know what there is to say to make this better.

"Don't bullshit." She mumble with a soft frown, not believing for a second that he didn't know she was completely infatuated with him.

"No, y/n. I mean it. I've... I feel for you. And I don't know how to handle it, express it. Fuck. I'm a mess, baby." He spills to her helplessly. "If I knew how I was hurting you, I would've done something, said something. I just- it's so difficult for me." His voice rasps and cracks unsteadily.

She doesn't know what to say, heart pounding as she watches his sincerity. She fiddles with her fingers anxiously as she tries to think of anything to reply with.

"Please believe me, pretty girl" He practically whimpers, his hands itching to feel her near him.

"What are we gonna do?" She whispers as she looks down at her hands. "Something needs to change... I can't go on like this" She tells him.

"I wanna make you mine." He tells her, giving in to his desperation to be close to her as his hand moves to rest on her anxiously fidgeting fingers.

"What's holding you back?" She mumbles as her eyes remain glued to their hands, fluttering closed for a moment as she soaks in the warmth of his hand.

"I-I don't know. I just, I feel so stupid because I want to give you the world but I'm the one stopping myself from giving it to you." He opens up quietly, his eyes boring into the side of her face. "But I know I need you, for more than just your body. I need you in every way I can have you." He whispers to her, gently pulling her closer so that his lips brush the shell of her ear. His closeness, warmth and the way his breath tickles her ear shoots a shiver down her spine.

"Please let me have you."

(a/n: i had to end it there or i would keep writing all night, i hope you all enjoyed!!)

[homeofthelonelywriter]

“I’m starting to worry, Cap.” Price and you both stood in the common room kitchen and watched as Simon brewed his umpteenth coffee of the day. Something which was alarming in of its own. But the fact that the Brit refused to even touch coffee unless he was seriously tired, added to the worry that was brewing in your guts. But the captain seemed less worried. “It’s Simon. He’ll be alright.” With those, words, he left the room, probably going back to his office to take care of some paperwork. Seemingly the only thing any of you had been doing ever since you got back from the last mission.

A few hours later, you approached Soap, worry etched onto your face. “He hasn’t slept for days. We have to do something.” Soap, who barely looked up from whatever file he was working on, shrugged. “He does that sometimes. You’ll get used to it.” With a deep sigh, you turned to look at Simon, who was staring at the same page, he had been looking at for the last twenty minutes.

Gaz was your last hope. He had to be at least a little bit worried. But no. “Hey, do you have any idea what we can do about Ghost?” He too just shrugged, glancing at his lieutenant. “At some point, he’ll just collapse and sleep it off. Don’t worry.” You groaned in frustration after he left. How could they all be so nonchalant about this. Yes, of course, you knew that Simon struggled with insomnia. It’s something he told you when he first opened up to you after he had found you wandering around after you had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. But you had never seen it get so bad.

You spent the whole day, trying to think of something you could do until you remembered something someone close to you had said. Nervous, but determined, you quickly searched for Simon, finding him in the common room with the others. He looked terrible, which only strengthened your resolve, but did nothing against the nerves bubbling in your gut.

Without a word, you grabbed his hand and dragged him to his room. He barely put up a fight, only once asking what you were doing, but quickly relenting when you told him to just trust you. Once inside his room, you quickly laid down on his bed and pulled him on top of you, gently cradling him against your chest. “Sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up, okay?” At first, he was stiff as a board, but slowly he relaxed, even cuddled into you, wrapping his own arms around your waist as his head rested against your chest. And before you knew it, he was asleep, softly snoring. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, gently letting your fingers scratch his scalp.

What you didn’t expect, was for this to become a regular occurrence. “The only way I can fall asleep now, love”, or something like that.

Alternative Ending:

Pissed off at everyones disregard, you decided to take it into your own hands and within a few hours you had everything you needed. That night, as everyone sat in the common room, watching some cheesy movie Soap had picked out, you asked the boys if they wanted a drink, and all of them said yes, even if you only cared if Simon said yes. So, you disappeared into the kitchen and fixed everyone their favorites, adding a little surprise to Simon’s.

Back in the common room, you handed everyone their glasses, before you plopped down next to your victim target. After watching him sip the amber-colored liquid for a few minutes, you fully turned to him. “Are you enjoying your drink?” His hand, which was just pulling the glass away from his lips again, halted as he glanced at you, confusion and suspicion in his eyes. Silence filled the space between the two of you for a few moments before he cleared his throat. “Have you poisoned me?”

You chuckled dryly, dismissively waving your hands. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s just a mild sedative, enjoy your rest.” Just in time, his eyelids started to droop and you quickly took the glass from him, placing it on the couch table. A moment later, he slowly fell towards you and you caught him, gently laying him down on the couch. After you made sure he looked comfortable and tugged a blanket in around him, you turned back to the TV, now noticing that the other three were staring at you with wide eyes.

“What? None of you wanted to help me. And don’t think I won’t do the same to you lot if you go around not sleeping for days, you hear me?” Gaz and Price immediately raised their hands and nodded obediently. Soap, on the other hand, started cackling, until you shushed him.

After the movie was over, you sent the boys to their rooms, while you stayed sitting on the floor next to the couch, keeping watch over the sleeping Simon. The sun was starting to rise when his eyes blinked open and you smiled softly. “Hey there.” He frowned. “You drugged me.” You shrugged, reaching out to push strands of his hair out of his eyes. “Had to. Would do it again.” Simon slowly nodded.

“You stayed here all night?” You nodded, your hand slowly drifting to his cheek. “Had to make sure you were alright.” He mirrored your nod, closing his eyes, while just enjoying your attention. “Can you get the good stuff next time?” You giggled. “Sure. But for now, let’s get you to your actual bed.” The moment you got to your feet, a sharp tug on your hand sent you into Simon’s arms, who just wrapped you up in a hug, twisting until he was lying with his head on your chest. “Nah. Let’s stay here.” Almost automatically, your fingers started to comb through his hair as you smiled to yourself. “Alright.” You both quickly drifted off to sleep.

Without your knowledge, Simon put the pictures the others took when they found you two, as his phone background and even kept a printed out version on himself at all times.

A/N: Just some nice little fluff! Hope you liked it! The alternative ending is based on this incorrect quote from @metallictastinglifesupportliquid. Also, let me know if you want to be on the perma taglist! Just say if you want all of COD or specific characters. Although I mostly post Ghost.

@dravenskye @herefor-tojis-tits @lucienofthelakes

[cyber333angel]

thinking about logan wanting to blow off some steam and coming home to you being bratty which really just sets him off… logan coming home from work and your immediately just chatting away— yelling at him about something that happened today that didn’t even have anything to do with him, and he just grabs you by the waist hoisting you up so your on his shoulder. just stomping into your shared bedroom as you hit at his back yelling, “this is all your fault! you never listen to me, put me down logan!” your honestly just saying anything, not knowing where to direct your emotions so when he came home you decided to place it on him and logan wasn’t having that. your thrown onto the bed suddenly, logan going on the other side of the bed as your back faces him. he pulls you down on your back leaving you confused, your looking up at him with a very agitated look on his face just unbuckling his jeans. you go to get up from the bed and he just holds your shoulders down with a stern, “stay fuckin still.” and you lay back down. he just mumbles and grumbles little nothings as his dick pops out of his boxers, rubbing it till it’s fully hard. “shouting at me as soon as I get home..” he says as he opens your mouth, sticking two fingers in letting you suck on them, and he sighs as he takes them out placing his cock on your bottom lip, prodding at it a bit. without warning he shoves it in, your eyes immediately watering as you grab onto anything around you, the sheets, his thigh. “oh fuck.” he says throwing his head back, taking your head and thrusting in and out. he can even see the print of his dick in your throat as he uses you, “just needed me to plug that bratty fuckin mouth of yours huh..shit..” the feeling of his cock shoved down your throat felt like you couldn’t breathe, thick length just taking up all the space blocking your mind from any thoughts. you remember what he told you before about breathing through your nose and that helps you calm down. “atta girl, there you fucking go..” you get the hang of it more as your gurgle his cock in your mouth, feeling yourself get wet between your legs. you rub your thighs together as a relief, logan seeing it spreads your legs apart, sliding your soaked panties to the side. he dips his fingers into your heat making you squirm around, tapping at his thighs from the overstimulation. logan thrusts deeper into your throat and feels himself cumming, the tight slick space of your mouth just feeling so good to him. “you gonna let daddy make a mess in this pretty fuckin mouth?” if you could nod you would, but at the moment your mind was filled with the pleasure that was going on between your legs and how stuffed your mouth was. logan rubs a few more circles around your clit and you feel it — it makes your body arch off the bed, legs twitching around the covers as you come down from your high. “fuck..” next thing you know your mouth is being filled to the brim, logan spilling all his cum deep in your throat, groaning and basically growling above you. he slides his dick out your mouth, a bitter taste left in your mouth as you cough catching your breath from your mouth being used. he picks up your head to face him, looking at him with half lidded eyes logan strokes your head. “you gonna tell me what happened today like a big girl or keep acting like a brat? hm, tell me and ill fix it bub.” the reassurance makes you realize how you acted out towards him, yelling at him over something he didn’t even do when he just came home from work, you feel sorry. “m’sorry logan, I didn’t mean to take my anger out on you. after you left this morning for work everything just kept going wrong, nd I didn’t know how to deal with it..” he knows your sorry, pulling you into his lap as he hugs you telling you that it’s okay.

[alebrijediscordico]

Prism's palette - chapter 1: lines on the sand

[Part 1]

You breathe in. And out.

You keep your head steady. Your body slowly swings.

Isa left just a few minutes ago for some more of that really tasty drink you two were having. Is a warm evening, the sun above the horizon. You hear in the distance the people you love. And you lay there in the woven, multishaded hammock, trying to not sink in the fear building up in you. And look up to the stars starting to come out.

Breathe in...

If you close your eye it almost feels like…

Breathe out.

Like a little boat adrift to sea.

You try to focus on that thought instead of what you're holding. Or any feeling clawing deep inside you. At least for a moment.

Or that panic might get the better part of you.

You think about what to do.

...And you think about how Mira had been reading some books to you about how to take care of one's mind. Slow down a wild heart. Some were her own findings, from before you all meet, the ones she never got around to read until then, others were Odile's and Isa's leaned books from a library near to where you all were staying at the time.

"And with… everything that happened just at the very end, i got thinking—wishfully thinking maybe, these would've come in very handy a few times..."

She rests her head on yours, you feel the light pressure. You don't flinch this time to her touch. It feels... nice. Truly, every drop of affection you've been slowly asking for and receiving has been making you not only less jumpy, but it feels like is filling up the empty spaces that you've had in your chest since the very beginning.

You closed your eye, still listening, fighting off sleep.

"But. Maybe… it wouldn't have been that easy, isn't it? Or maybe it would've been? I still... wonder about that. But we… we can get better at taking care of ourselves from now on, together.

I did once read... is better a tiny bit later than never, at the end of the day."

Some of the books weren't… really made by professionals—you came to find morning after morning in your new little routine with her—but about and by people's own experiences. It was a pick and choose thing, between advice, stories to reflect on, and a mix of them; something that felt less serious than the direct, more professional books with all their specific words and medical treatments. Those were more usual with your reads with Isa. It was less pressure on you, but it was still some amount of pressure to start and keep you going.

So that was your current go-to thought to keep your head in place.

That clear image of the water under your little boat—like a mirror reflecting the universe over you, tricking your terrified mind into feeling like that was where you found yourself floating in: Among stars, in the universe, it's endless void holding the tiny shiny dots up.

Far away from where you needed to be.

Far away from where you wanted to be.

And into a lonely night.

It was… really, a bad memory, filled with such grief you could almost taste it, way too close to how it had been… on the loops; the initial shock and fear, all mixing in the pit of your gut, causing this painful vertigo (then burning, then the tug in your stomach-).

(Breathe in. Breathe out.)

But at the same time it was… oddly grounding. It was what led you to Isa, Mira, Bonbon and Odile… to your family. And before getting to land, paralyzed by the great unknown, you still remember being almost cradled by the waves to shore…

So from certainly upsetting you once in the past, the core of your nightmares before the House, to now being a reminder of this love that you found and found you, the similar rocking motion was keeping your head in place. An anchor between past and present.

For now.

…It's hard to sit down when your whole body lightly shakes. Is it fear? Dread? Panic fully building up in you again? Or… oddly enough…

Anticipation?

A… new or foreign part of you was almost expecting this.

Out of precaution you no longer Wish for things to be true; you instead try to go get them if you find a way to do so. It feels overly cautious as it feels right.

So you almost really, really want for things to stay calm and not...

To only have to dread your new title as one of the saviors, and only worry about what you'll eat tomorrow and about the remaining sadnesses as Vaugarde cleans itself from them. But…

It seems your future... was about to lead you somewhere else...

[cursingtoji]

29 w/ Yuki jjk x fem reader? Im so gay for her 🫠

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ┊ a fun night in with your horny rommie

ᥫ᭡ tags. roommate! yuki x fem reader, wlw, drunk sex, fingering, tribadism, lots of kissing (have you seen her lips), dom!yuki, mention of a strap, humping, she calls you babygirl. 1.3k words. The Clichés ™

“Here” Yuki hands you a cup of water, holding a second one for herself as she stumbles a little before sitting down across the couch.

Both you and your roommate left for a night out with friends, they decided to extend the night by going to a club but with a simple exchange of looks you both decided to go back home.

“Maybe I should’ve gone to the club too… I could blow some steam” she confesses getting comfortable on the couch and putting her feet on the cushions, you mirror her.

“Please, I’ve seen you reject every guy that offers to buy you a drink for the past two months” you laugh.

“I said nothing about a guy” she adds and an awkward silence settles, “Ya haven’t even considered I might be into girls too?” she sits up.

“We’ll…” you want to say you haven’t seen her with a girl before so you didn’t want to jump into conclusions.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

She gets closer and you retract your legs.

“Are you into girls?” her tone is lower, more seductive, you look into her hooded eyes, your vision is not as sharp due to all the alcohol you both consumed tonight.

Yuki’s hand sets on your thigh, where the thin fabric of your trousers is not enough to keep you from feeling her warmth.

Yuki is truly gorgeous, tall with golden hair and a phenomenal body that has people breaking their necks when passing by her.

She’s well aware of this too, since she has no problem walking with nothing but a pair of panties after she showers, the first time you saw her bare chest was when she was blowing her hair with the bathroom door wide open, she smiled and said she would be freeing up the bathroom in just a few minutes while you stood there mouth agape.

“I might be” you murmur looking up at her.

So when she leans in you don’t question or protest, she naturally settles herself between your legs and lowers till her lips are softly brushing yours.

“Am I your first?” he whispers, her breath has a faint beer and strawberry smell that intoxicates you even further.

“No” you stare at her glossy lips, that’s probably where the strawberry scent comes from.

“Liar” she hushes before capturing your lips, she does it very slowly, allowing her lips to gaze over yours, the lip balm helping create an easy slide motion. Her soft mewls go straight to your pussy as he sucks on your bottom lip, the make out session quickly turns you on, your legs are open for her and she doesn’t waste the opportunity to slide her hand between them and rubbing her palm on you, that’s enough for your mouth to open in a gasp and her tongue find yours turning the seductive kiss into something more urgent.

“Mmph you’re a good kisser” you breathe out when she sits up to pull her shirt off.

“‘m good at a lot of things” she winks helping you remove your pants. You can see she’s getting a bit more desperate as she doesn’t care about fully removing your top, only pushing it up along with your bra then pressing kisses on your breasts.

“How drunk are you?” you giggle softly combing her hair and pushing your breasts into her face.

“Mm drunk enough to make this more fun” she bites your nipple and you hiss “Can’t believe you were hidin’ these from me” she squeezes your boobs together and lap at both simultaneously, her face is face is flushed and all you want is for her to keep kissing you breathless.

The space on the couch is narrow for the two of you, yet she manages to lie down next to you, half of her body touching the couch and the other half on top of you.

Yuki got rid of her pants and bra previous to that, now her heavy breasts lay on top of yours while she keeps your thigh between her legs, softly grinding her soaked cunt on your thigh.

Yuki is not the type to leave her partner unsatisfied, she has her fingers down your panties, making a mess on your underwear and the couch.

You search for her lips again, wanting to be as close to her as possible while she explores your intimacy, she gives in of course, even with her glossy eyes she can she the lust in yours, having your pretty moans echo through the dark living room sounds like a dream to her. So naturally she gives what you’re wishing for and kisses you again, and because she’s slightly above you, you have to angle your head higher.

Everything about your body screams submission to Yuki, having you like putty under her only contributes for the knot in her core threat to snap.

She cares about your pleasure too, but now she’s grinding faster, her fingers try to keep a steady rhythm in you as she drags her clit harder on your thigh with her tongue deep inside your mouth.

“Yuki. . .” you whimper slightly turning and having her hardened nipple gazing yours.

“Mmmph so good” she moans letting go of your lips to close her eyes and get lost in the feeling. You go for her neck, nibbling the soft skin and allowing yourself to feel her scent, identifying a bit of what the bathroom smells like after she showers, it’s intoxicating. She’s intoxicating.

The heel of her palm bumps into your clit ever so often, your hand find her breast, your palm feels tiny against her the natural volume of her, it’s so soft… all you can think about is burying your head in them after a stressful day and having her play with your pussy.

“Fuck, ‘m cummin’ babygirl nnhg—” she has such beautiful moans you have to bite your lips to hear only her. Her thighs are strong, gripping yours hard as she rides out her orgasm twitching ever so slightly against you.

Yuki moves to be above you, pressing her whole body on top of yours then taking one of your legs and holding it high on her waist, you don’t realize what she’s doing until she moves your underwear aside and presses her warm cunt on yours.

You gasp loudly, “You like it? Dirty girl. . .” she smiles nibbling on your ear, “So wet. Guys can’t make you this wet, can they?” you shake your head, her hip game is unmatched, got you thinking what else she could do with a strap.

She slowly drags her pussy along yours, you have no idea who’s more wet, both your juices are now combined.

Maybe getting drunk with your roommate was the best idea you had so far, the relaxed state of mind made you forget everything and just surrender yourself to her, focusing on feeling every part of her against yours, feeling her swollen clit rubbing on yours as sounds of wet skin fill the room.

You finish moaning her name with your eyes closed and hands holding her ass so she wouldn’t get away from you.

“So pretty” she coos watching you fall apart under her.

Once the high of your orgasm settles, she kisses your lips then sucks your tongue on her plump lips, you’re still softly moaning on the mouth of the best kisser you ever met.

“Let’s go, this couch ‘s too small” she raises then fall in the couch before raising again and taking your hand.

You giggle together, stumbling on nothing since you can’t take your hands off each other and no one is sober enough to guide the other. Once you managed to find her bed she pulls you into her lap, lips back on yours as she plans another night to get drunk with you.

a/n. congratulations if you got this far now you’re officially into women. no take backs.

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters):

Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Genie Adesanya (Jayme Lawson) x Ellington “EJ” Dupree (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)

Chapters:

Neon Lights Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: Imani and Jameson's beef comes to a head as secrets are revealed.

Warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI), smut!!!, daddy kink (male character being referred to as that), p in v sex (shower sex), toxic relationship (intentional jealousy, deception, lying), usage of the n word -- if you white and read it, you owe us $20, -- if we missed anything, let us know!

Word Count: 14.2k

Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Notes: 

The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

The bedroom was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting a warm circle of light over the room. EJ lay on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, while Genie rested next to him – her leg drawn across his. The sound of the wind outside the cabin filled the quiet space, a gentle reminder of the snowy world beyond their cozy retreat.

“I think we fucked up a little bit,” EJ said finally, his voice low but weighted as he rubbed his hand down her side.

Genie glanced up from where she had been tracing absent-minded patterns on his chest. “What do you mean?”

“Inviting Mani and Jamie,” EJ clarified, turning his head to look at her. “It’s already tense, and it’s only the first night. Did you see the way they were looking at each other at dinner? Damn near thought my boy was about to take that other nigga head off.”

Genie shifted onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “I saw. I’m sorry. I just…I wanted Mani here. I didn’t know Jamie was coming. But they’re adults. They can handle themselves.”

“It’s okay, baby. You didn’t know.” EJ snorted softly. “But can they, though? They was acting weird all day. And Imani…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“What about her?” Genie pressed, her tone sharper than she intended. EJ had been supportive when she and Imani were going through their issues – but he was increasingly negative about her friend. 

EJ hesitated, then sat up slightly, resting his weight on his forearm. “Look, I know that’s your girl and I respect that. But she’s got this...thing about her. Like she stirs the pot just by being in the room. And Jameson’s not exactly steady when it comes to her. It’s like a recipe for disaster.”

Genie frowned, sitting up fully and crossing her legs beneath her. “That’s not fair. Imani didn’t ask to be in this situation. And she’s not stirring the pot, EJ. She’s just...here. Existing. I invited her. She is my family.”

“I understand, baby. But let’s not pretend she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Mixing him up, spinning his head. She drives him crazy and she likes it that way.” EJ countered, his voice tinged with frustration. “Baby, she had the chance to leave his ass after he fucked up. And she did. But where she at right now?”

Genie sighed, rubbing her temples as she sat up with him. “It’s more complicated than that, EJ. And you shouldn’t put all the blame on her. Alot of their issues? Jamie’s fault.”

“That may be so but that’s when she’s supposed to let him go. Both of them should let go. Jameson did.” “And so did she! She’s here with Isaiah.”

EJ stared at her. “We both know that’s not the same. She brought him to fuck with Jameson.”

“She didn’t even know he’d be here.” “She had to know there was a good chance he’d be here, baby. C’mon.” “No, you c’mon! You come down so hard on her all the time, EJ. She’s noticed the only one fucked up.” “No, she’s not. But Jameson is trying not to be.” “How do you know what she’s trying to do?” “I know what she’s already done. She fucked Jameson up when she left and then she hurt you too. Back to back, the two people I love most in this world! Hung up over her. Crying for her. While she lived her best life on a fucking yacht somewhere. Out at parties. I watched you check your phone over and over for her call. Same as he did. She hurt you. She hurt him. I don’t trust her.”

Genie was quiet, watching how upset he seemed to be at her defense of Imani. “Baby, I’m okay.” His desire to protect her was noble but she couldn’t help but think he put far too much responsibility on Imani. “She said she was sorry. We’re working on things. We’re okay.”

“Now you are.” EJ muttered, shaking his head. “And now he is. With Camille. So of course she comes back and gets everything all mixed up again.”

“Maybe they need to see each other, work through whatever’s still lingering.”

EJ gave her a skeptical look. “You really think that’s going to happen without blowing up in everyone’s faces?”

“I think we should give them the benefit of the doubt,” Genie said firmly. “It wasn’t her fault that Jameson was hurt. It was a combination of his actions.”

“And what about you? Why were you hurt?”

Genie sighed softly, framing his face in her hands. “Because she didn’t know how to face her feelings. She walked away from Jameson for her own good. And she thought she’d have to face them with me. Was it the right way to go about it? No. But I think we both know sometimes you aren’t thinking straight when you’re traumatized. And their breakup was traumatizing, EJ. Cut her some slack.” 

EJ shook his head, leaning back against the headboard and pulling away from her. “Then why is she back if leaving him was for her own good?”

Genie sighed softly, her expression softening. “I don’t know. The heart wants what it wants, I guess. Baby, you don’t know everything Imani’s been through. She’s had a rough year. And yeah, she’s made mistakes, but she’s trying to be happy. Jameson is getting that chance. Why shouldn’t she have one?”

EJ sighed, running a hand over his face. “I just don’t want to see her hurt you. Or Jameson, for that matter.”

“She’s not going to hurt me,” Genie said quietly. “And as for Jameson...he’s got Camille now. He’s fine. Right?”

“Camille’s a good woman,” EJ said, his tone soft. “She’s steady, kind, and she’s got her head on straight. If Jameson’s smart, he’ll stick with her.”

Genie tilted her head, studying him. “You really think she’s the one for him?”

“Honestly? No. I think Imani is what he wants. But I think Camille is what he needs,” EJ replied. “Someone who won’t complicate his life. Someone who won’t...drag him back into the past.”

Genie bit her lip, considering his words. “Maybe you’re right. But it’s not our place to decide, honey. They’ll figure it out.”

He reached out, pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a asshole about Imani. I just want this trip to go well. No drama, no stress.”

Genie snuggled against his chest, her voice muffled. “Me too. But...if there is drama, we’ll deal with it. Shit happens when the family gets together, right?”

EJ kissed the top of her head, laughing softly. “That it does.”

They lay there in comfortable silence for a moment before Genie spoke again, her voice hesitant. “I’m going to put Imani in the wedding. So I need you to get over this beef you have with her.”

EJ tensed, his whole body going still as he tried to figure out what to say. “I…Wedding? What wedding?”

Genie smiled, her breath warm against his skin. “I saw the ring. Don’t be mad.” She lifted her head, peering up at him. “I love you. And I trust you.” Whether he knew it or not, she had done a lot of thinking over the week. Marriage was a big step and it was terrifying…but Genie wanted to take those steps with him. He was frantic about getting everything perfect because he wanted her dreams to come true. How could she doubt that? “I’m going to say yes. So stop worrying.”

“That’s why you wanted Imani here?” Genie nodded slowly, hoping that telling him the truth wasn’t ruining the surprise too badly. “I panicked. And then you came home right after I found it…and you showed me in every single way that marrying you would be the best thing I could ever do. This house could fall around us and I’d still say yes because I love you.” 

EJ dipped his head, kissing Genie soundly. He had been worried about the trip. Her father would be there in the morning, he wanted to time it all just right. Then Imani and Jameson gave him more to worry about. Despite being caught off guard…he felt himself relax at the knowledge that she wanted to say yes. Even if everything didn’t go perfectly right – they would have each other.

The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came with a blanket of fresh snow muffling the world outside. Jameson lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, his thoughts refusing to settle. He had been in a state since Imani showed up with Isaiah. Their little game had taken on a life of its own.

For every kiss he gave Camille, Imani had two for Isaiah. For every laugh he shared with Camille, she had a grope from her companion for the weekend. It put tension in the air and everyone could sense it. Especially Camille. She hadn't complained, hadn't mentioned it. But she held on to Jameson just a little tighter. Even when they crawled into bed together after an exhausting day, she seemed to want his attention -- without Imani around.

As frustrated as he was, Jameson didn't fuck the woman that practically begged him to. He promised her the next day -- swearing it was because he was tired but the reality was...he couldn't focus. Imani's room ended up just down the hall from theirs. All he could think about what the shit they were doing behind those closed doors. Rejected for the evening, Camille was already asleep beside him, her breathing soft and even, her head resting lightly on his shoulder.

He should have been at peace. The day had been long but good—Camille had laughed with him on the slopes, and they’d shared hot chocolate by the fire. But all he saw was Imani doing the same with Isaiah. As he closed his eyes, the quiet of the cabin was broken by muffled sounds from down the hall.

A low murmur. A laugh. A moan.

Jameson’s jaw clenched as realization hit. Where they...? Of course they were. Leave it to Imani to go too far.

He tried to block it out, shifting slightly in bed, but the sounds only grew louder. The rhythmic creak of the bed frame, the occasional gasp, and Isaiah’s deep voice murmuring something he couldn’t make out. He sat up in bed, flipping the cover back. The urge to interrupt and ruin their evening strong. The only thing that stopped him was Camille.

She stirred from her sleep when he sat up, her hand pressed to his shoulder. When Jameson turned to look back at her, she looked confused but was ready to follow him if something was wrong. "Go back to sleep, baby." He murmured, "Everything's fine. I just wanted to get my headphones."

She blinked at him, nodding slowly before laying back down. But the noises were louder. Her eyes went wide as she looked over at him. "Are they–"

"Yes." He answered emotionlessly.

"Well then." Camille muttered. "At least somebody around here is getting it."

"You want me to fuck you so everybody hears?" Jameson asked her as he got up, moving to his suitcase. "Will that prove we're real and crazy about each other? Because that's the only reason she's doing it."

"No. But I'd prefer it if you showed any interest in having fun with me this weekend." "What do you think I've been doing, Cami?" "Worrying about your ex."

Jameson yanked the headphones out of his suitcase, turning to glare at his girlfriend. She wasn't wrong but he hated being called on it. There was no explaining what Imani did to him. She drove sanity out of his head. He did and said stupid shit when it came to her. It seemed he always would. His chest tightened, a wave of anger and something darker, more painful, rising in him. He hated that she could do this to him.

“I'm worried she's going to ruin this for Genie and EJ.” he muttered under his breath, making his way back to the bed. "I'm worried I'll get out of pocket and fuck it up with her. She seems to like me best when I'm out of my mind."

For a moment, he saw the sympathy in Camille. She sighed softly and lay back down, waiting for him to join her. One he did, she snuggled up to him. "The only way to win with her is to stop falling into the trap. Focus on EJ and Genie. Focus on us. Now...what are we listening to?"

He nodded, knowing she was right. For a moment, he could ignore the noises coming from down the hall. He could pretend he didn't know the difference between her fake moans and the actual ones of pleasure when that goofy bastard managed to hit something right. "Nat King Cole." he told Camille.

"Good." She closed her eyes and snuggled next to him as he put the headphones on. He couldn't hear Imani anymore and part of his anger faded as he pushed play on his phone's playlist. Camille kept her head pressed to his chest, the music filtering to her ears as she also ignored Imani and Isaiah.

Maybe if she got lucky, Imani would keep pushing Jameson's buttons. The angrier he got, the more he kept his distance. At least, that’s what she hoped for.

The soft glow of dawn crept into the room, painting the walls with a pale, golden hue. Camille stirred, her eyes fluttering open to the peaceful sight of Jameson still asleep beside her. His face was relaxed, his breathing steady, and she couldn’t help but smile. The headphones he had worn to bed were askew on his head.

For all the chaos surrounding this trip, moments like this made it worth it.

She slipped out of bed as quietly as she could, heading to the ensuite bathroom and getting ready for the day. Jameson still remained asleep so Camille pulled the headphones from his head and kissed him softly. She got dressed in a sweater and leggings before heading downstairs. The house was still, the only sound the faint creak of the floorboards under her feet.

In the kitchen, she set to work, humming softly to herself as she cracked eggs and whisked batter for pancakes. Breakfast in bed didn’t sound like a terrible idea. After the night Jameson had, she wanted there to be a contrast. Imani stressed him out, she made everything easier. Maybe it’d make it a simple decision for him.

“Morning,” a voice called, startling her. “Looks like somebody had the same idea as me.”

Camille turned to see EJ standing in the doorway, his hand lifted to scratch at his neck as he yawned. He made his way to the coffee machine, going through the routine that he did every morning.

“Morning,” Camille replied with a smile. “Didn’t mean to wake anyone.”

“You didn’t,” EJ assured her, “Genie’s dad is flying in today. I wanted to be up and make sure his room’s ready.”

“Kendrick Adesanya?” Camille questioned, eyes going wide. “My dad would kill to meet him. I wonder if he’ll give me an autograph.”

EJ laughed. “Most people would kill to meet him. When Genie first took me to his house for dinner, I felt like I was going to pass out. You making breakfast for yourself?"

“Un-uh,” she replied, her voice light but slightly strained. “Jameson. Figured I’d surprise him. Let him sleep in a little.”

EJ nodded and moved to the fridge, pulling out ingredients for an omelet. “I’m making something for Genie. She’s still out cold, but I promised her breakfast in bed.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Camille said, a hint of admiration in her tone.

EJ shrugged, cracking eggs into a bowl. “Gotta keep her happy. Happy soon to be wife, happy life?”

They both laughed before getting back to work in earnest. They worked in silence for a few moments, the clinking of utensils and the smell of butter filling the space. Finally, EJ broke the quiet. “So…how are things with Jameson?”

Camille hesitated, her spatula pausing mid-air. “Good,” she said, but there was a tightness to her voice. “I mean, I think they’re good. He’s been...a little distant, though. I think this weekend is a lot for him so far.”

EJ glanced at her, his brow furrowing. “Distant how?”

Camille sighed, setting down the spatula and turning to face him. “I don’t know. It’s just...with everything that’s happened, I feel like there’s this gulf between us. Like he’s not completely here, you know? He’s holding himself at a distance.”

EJ nodded slowly, whisking the eggs. “I’m sorry. That’s a tough spot to be in. I didn’t mean for that to happen to you guys.”

“It’s not your fault. And then there’s Imani,” Camille added, her voice dropping. “I mean, I know he says he’s over her, but it’s hard not to feel like she’s always there. They circle around each other like they don’t know what to think or say. Especially after…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

“After what?” EJ prompted, glancing at her.

Camille hesitated, then sighed. “After hearing her and Isaiah – well, I woke up in the middle of the night and we could hear them. They were…having sex. Down the hall the other night.”

EJ’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Camille said, her cheeks flushing. “It was...loud. And it triggered something in him. He got agitated and then we argued a bit. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. It’s like she’s trying to prove something. To him and me. She still has a hold on him and we all know it.”

EJ set down the whisk and turned to face her fully, leaning against the counter. “I told you she did. Camille –” He stopped himself, Genie’s words from earlier echoing in his mind: Let them figure it out on their own.

“What?” Camille asked, her eyes searching his face.

EJ shook his head, offering her a small smile. “Nothing. I uh – I just wanted to say I was sorry for how messy shit has gotten. You and Jameson will figure it out. You’ve got a good thing going. Trust each other — don’t let anyone else fuck with that.”

Camille studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Thanks, EJ. I appreciate that.”

“Anytime,” he said, turning back to his omelet.

They finished cooking in companionable silence, and as Camille gathered her tray to take upstairs, EJ grabbed his plate.

“Good luck,” he said as they headed for the stairs.

Jameson was still asleep when she entered the room, his arm draped across the bed where she had been. She set the tray down on the nightstand and gently shook his shoulder, kissing his cheek softly. He grunted in his sleep, slowly opening his eyes and turning his head to peer at her.

“Good morning,” she whispered. “I made you breakfast.” “Good morning,” he replied, smiling. He sat up, groggy but alert, as she placed the tray on his lap. “Thank you, baby. But you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to. You had a long night” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “But I am not going to hover. I’m heading to the slopes with EJ’s sister. She invited us both last night but you should sleep in a little more.”

Jameson nodded, taking a sip of coffee and a bite of the bacon. “You sure? I can go with you.” He said softly, lifting his head to offer her a kiss.

Camille leaned in, “It’s fine. We’re going to have a girl's morning. You get some rest.” She kissed him soundly, gently brushing a crumb from his face. "But promise you'll make some time for me tonight before EJ and Genie's dinner." He gave her a quick nod. “I promise. Thank you. Be careful.”

“I will,” she promised, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

It took a minute for her to get dressed. Jameson watched her the entire time, eating his breakfast and subtly asking for kisses each time. For the first time since they’d gotten to Aspen, it felt like he was all about her. As she left the room, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen.

Sloane.

Her heart sank as she made her way down the stairs and crossed the living room and exited the front door – phone buzzing all the while. Finally, when she was sure she was alone, Camille answered. “What do you want?” 

“Hey, girl. I was just wondering how Aspen was.” Sloane’s voice chimed, deceptively light. “You’re starting to get a little unhinged behind a man that has never wanted you.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and Camille took the opportunity to go for a kill shot. “Imani. She’s my real competition. It’s never been you. And I’m sorry, Sloane, it never will be.”

There was more silence and guilt start to set in – Camille knew she had been cruel but she couldn’t help it. There were all these forces against she and Jameson. She just wanted to protect what they were trying to build. Sloane was a threat that she could handle easily…or so she thought.

“For a minute, I started to feel bad for what I’ve done. I’ve been there. Wanting something I don’t deserve.” Sloane said slowly, her voice was calm…almost eerie. “You and I…we’re a lot alike. But unlike you, I knew when my time was up. You’re greedy enough to want more.”

“Sorry for what you’ve done?” Camille got a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Oh you’re curious about that, are you?” Sloane’s tone was almost teasing, but it carried an undercurrent of malice. “Sloane��” “I just told the truth. For once in my life, I told the absolute truth. You probably have a couple of hours before it all blows up in your face.”

Camille froze, her grip tightening on the phone. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see,” Sloane replied with a laugh. “Enjoy your baecation while it lasts. But remember this – I saved you from living a lie. Even when you’re angry, remember I did you a favor.”

The line went dead, leaving Camille standing there, her heart pounding. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. She heard the front door open and jumped when Ella called her name.

“You ready to go, girl?” 

Camille had to give the girl a smile – praying she couldn’t see the underlying tension. “Of course. Let’s…let’s go.”

He was second-guessing himself but as Jameson lifted his hand to twist the doorknob, there wasn’t much he could do to stop. He should have spent the day sleeping and resting -- but he couldn't fully let go of his anger. He heard movement in Imani’s room and figured it was her. Irritation was burrowing underneath his skin. The past four days had been stressful. Psychological warfare with Imani was rough. Every sweet thing he did with Camille, Imani made sure she topped it with – what was his fucking name? Who was he kidding? He didn’t give a shit.

The door swung open and he came face to face with her…, which immediately ignited his agitation. “You realize you aren’t the only one here right?” He said abruptly, leaning against the door frame.

Imani was on her phone, checking a few of her emails. She missed the group’s excursion to the slopes because she couldn’t decide what to wear, so she stayed behind and was glad she did. She was tired of seeing Jameson with Camille. She needed a damn break, but of course, fate wouldn’t allow it. Because there was an angry Jameson standing in her room. She exhaled her annoyance and turned her head quickly to stare at him. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Have you lost your damn mind? Don’t you know how to knock?”

“I didn’t think you cared about manners. You know we all heard ya’ll fucking last night, right?” Jameson asked her, his emotions heightened by the fact that she seemed ready to have it out with him.

That meant her mission was accomplished. Imani wanted Jameson to hear her having sex with Isaiah. She wanted to do anything she could to make him jealous. “My bad.” Imani didn’t bother to look up at him. Instead, she kept scrolling through her phone. 

“Your bad?” He questioned, face frowning up as he moved further into the room without invitation. “You don’t think that was fucked up?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry,” Imani said. She didn’t give a damn about what Jameson had to say. “Is that better for you, friend?”

“That’s it?” He said, agitated by her lack of remorse...and the fact that she called him friend. “Y'all couldn’t go rent a room somewhere or something? It was nasty. Genie won’t tell you that. Neither will EJ but I will.”

She paused, squinting her eyes at his audacity. EJ and Genie were on a separate wing than they were. She didn’t think they heard her at all. Her goal was to only capture his ears and it seemed like that was accomplished. “Jameson, you haven’t said nothing to me this whole trip. If you not EJ or Genie, I really don’t give a fuck about what you have to say.”

His brows furrowed in confusion as he moved further into the room, arms folded over his chest defensively. “And what would you like me to say to you?” He asked, tilting his head. “You ain’t said shit to me either. All you do is follow that nigga around giggling.”

The civil war Imani and Jameson had been engaged in the past two days was intense. They hadn't caused too much of a fuss but each was determined to one up each other…despite the fact that their last conversation consisted of each declaring the desire to be friends. They had failed.

Imani chuckled, “Ain’t we supposed to be friends, now, right? That’s what you said on that damn podcast. It shouldn’t be that hard to talk to your friend.” 

“Did I lie? We agreed to be friends.” Jameson glared at her, the dots connecting in his head. Was she…mad about him saying they were friends? “Are you mad at me for not talking to you regularly? It’s complicated with us. I didn’t know what to say. I just figured…we parted on good terms so we were good. But the way you acting, I’m starting to think we ain’t.”

She looked at him through squinted eyes. “The way I’m actin’? I ain’t the one that’s bustin’ up in your room policin’ the way you fuck! That’s you!” 

“We gone act like I didn’t come in here for a fucking reason?” He retorted, matching her energy. “You fucked that nigga where I could hear you!”

“And the other day, you had that bitch whimperin’ where I could hear so I don’t think we any different.” 

“That was a fucking kiss, Mani. I ain’t fucked Cami in days because I knew you were down the hall. That’s the difference between us.” It would have been easy to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about but they were too deep in the game to lie. “I don’t get off making you feel like shit.”

She tilted her head at him. “Why the fuck does it matter what me and Isaiah do at night? You moved on. You coulda fucked Camille if you wanted to!” 

And there it was. The first time either of them had vocalized the root of the shit they were battling about. He couldn't believe her audacity.

“You moved on first.” Jameson told her coldly. He didn’t even bother broaching the other topics. “You left me. You said ‘one day’. Next thing I know, you tonguing down some random. You moved on first.”

The elephant in the room seemed to grow bigger the more each of them talked. When he finished speaking, Imani lapsed into silence but he could see that she was mentally calculating. 

She clenched her jaw, tired of holding back all of the truths she spared him from. “I never moved on! You wifed a bitch and sang your heart out about her. None of them niggas could say I was theirs like Camille can say you hers.”

He couldn't let himself hope. Jameson forced himself to ignore the fact that she declared she had never moved on from him. He forced himself to ignore the way his heart thudded. Instead, he got angry. It was easier to deal with anger than fear. 

“You think I gave a fuck about that?!” He shouted, “You ain’t post them but I still saw it! I’m at home drinking just so I can sleep and not dream of you but you was out having the time of your life!” He clapped his hands together, punctuating each word he uttered. “Song after song about you before I made anything about her! I made ‘em until I couldn’t mourn anymore! You should be fucking happy it took me six months to even think of somebody else because if I was the nigga you think I am, I coulda had ten bitches the day you left my house.”

Her voice was stuck in her throat. Imani remembered all of his pain and suffering she heard through Midnight and instantly she felt a tinge of guilt, but she shook her head. The feeling died out quickly when she reminded herself they were in a fight. “You think that shit was easy for me!?” Her voice rose a few octaves as she threw her hands up then touched her chest. “I thought that doing that shit would make me forget about you and the mistake I made! But nothing fuckin’ worked. I was fucking alone! All I had was thoughts of you.” 

That damn thudding in his chest began again. His heart skipped a beat and he shook his head, doing his best not to ignore everything else she was saying. He couldn't highlight the good shit and ignore the bad. Jameson forced himself not to comfort her. 

“You chose to be alone, Mani. You left me and you left Genie. That was your decision.” He told her heatedly. “Don't compare that to me. You didn't see me with anybody until Cami. You on your third fling and this nigga got a post. You call him daddy. Let him fuck you down the hall from me. You ain't having it hard.”

“I was doing what I thought was right for us!” She chose to ignore his other claims because those flings meant nothing to her. They weren’t Jameson. She could never be as serious with them as he was with Camille, because her heart was with someone else. 

“I was doing what I thought was right! I let you go, I didn’t fight. Stop comparing that!” “How the fuck is it any different?” She yelled. "It killed me to let you go. But you just kept going."

Instead of granting him a response, she pushed his forehead with her index finger and said, “Fuck you, Jamie! You don’t know how I felt. You don’t know what the fuck I went through.”

They broke each other’s heart trying to do right by one another. Before he could respond that he was doing the same…she pressed a digit to his head. What the fuck?

He came right back, his eyes screwing up to see her finger pressed to his head in disbelief. He lifted his arm — knocking her hand from his head as he gazed at her fingers. The diamond shone brightly, almost shocking him. It was the one he bought her. Had she always worn it? “We did that already. Before you gave that nigga pity pussy, I showed you how to play the fuck you game. Unfortunately for you, you stuck with that nigga now. You made that bed, lay in it.”

She could tell he was talking shit. Made the bed now lay in it? He had proven himself jealous. He wanted her. Why wasn't he taking her? Why did he ignore her obvious feelings?

Imani laughed loudly. “You really want me to believe that you havin’ better sex than me? That you don't want me?” She retorted. “Nigga, you pent up as fuck. I see it all in your face.” 

Jameson kissed his teeth, rolling his eyes. It was true but he'd be damned if he admitted it. Sex with Cami was fine. They both got off. It was normal, typical sex. Radically different from what he had with Mani. But he didn't think he had anything to prove to her so he didn't answer. “I ain't ask you to believe shit. I'm just telling you that I know he not getting the job done. You forget that I know how you sound when you really want it.” 

She smirked, knowing she was right. Imani rolled her eyes at him. “Get the fuck out my room.” She said. “Oh, and take my watch off while you’re at it.”

He blinked at her, head jerking to the side as he tried to process what the fuck she was saying. “Fuck that and fuck you. This my watch.”

“Why the fuck are you even wearing that shit anyways!?” She said with her hands on her hips. “Camille ain’t gave you no other shit to wear?”

“It's my fucking watch. That's enough reason.” Jameson replied, frowning at her. “You said it was a mistake to leave me — you should be happy I'm wearing it.”

“I should be happy? I should be happy you’re wearin’ the fucking watch I gave you while you parade around here with another woman?” She repeated through squinted eyes. “What kinda sick fucking game are you playing?”

“Same game you playing.” He responded with venom, gesturing to her hand. He had seen it when she pushed his head but he was so angry at her that he didn't comment. “You fuck that nigga wearing my ring?”

Silence lapsed between them and Imani curled her fingers into a fist, wanting desperately to hide the damn ring…but he had already seen it. Fuck. She forgot to take off the ring when he came into the room. “And what if I did?” She finally said. She only wore his ring to calm herself down. It was the only piece of him she had and it brought her comfort. But it was not working right now. She was mad as fuck. “I know you fuckin’ that bitch wearing my watch!” 

“Mhm. I do.” He confirmed, lashing out just as she was. He just kept staring at the ring on her finger as if he were lost in his own thoughts. “I can't take the fucking thing off and it's your fault. I tried but I can't.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at him. “What the hell you mean you can’t take it off, Jamie? You need me to fuckin’ help you?”

“Don't.” He mumbled, glaring at her. “Don't touch me, Mani. I swear to God…”

His words were a challenge for her. “Or what? The fuck you gone do, Jameson?” Imani glared at him as silence fell between them. Without another word, she reached out and grabbed his wrist.

He jerked his hand away from her. It was insanity but…this was exciting. Arguing with her, yelling shit they probably could have just sat down and talked about. It lit something inside him. He hated it…and loved it. After a moment of hesitation, he reached out for her. Jameson jerked her closer by her neck, grasping her loosely. He opened his mouth to say something but…what could he say? What else was to be said? He didn’t think about Camille or the fact that this was their friends’ engagement trip. All he could think about was that she had carried a part of him with her. He never took the watch off for that reason but it didn’t occur to him she felt the same way.

Jameson angled his head, his movements sleek and precise, and finally kissed her.

She was hesitant at first. Then Imani’s hand was on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, wanting a taste of him, because she didn’t know if it would be her last. Imani pulled away just so she could catch her breath. “I missed you,” she said. Her lips found his again. 

He caught the words she whispered and any common sense that would have stopped him from cheating on Camille fled. All he could hear was her. All he could feel was the way she touched him. For the first time in a year, he felt like himself again. “I missed you too.” He answered honestly, his hand releasing her wrist and anchoring against her hips as he slowly dipped…then picked her up, gathering her in his arms.

It was disgraceful. It was wrong. But fuck it felt good to hold her again. He knew he wasn’t going to stop. It had been over a year. Thirteen months, nineteen days, and six hours since he got to kiss her. He suffered, feeling the ghost of her under his skin while he did his best to pretend everything was fine. He went to therapy, he said and did all the right things to get his life back on track – and none of that felt as good as his fingers grasping a handful of ass and hearing her whimper.

The two stumbled backward, tipping over onto the bed. Imani straddled him, Jameson’s hands were roaming. They sat that way – kissing, tongues tangling and stroking one another, heads shifting left and right. Both of them were desperate for each other. The door was wide open but pausing to ensure their privacy didn’t appeal to either. Jameson reared back, his hand leaving her ass and straight down into her velour tracksuit. 

Imani hissed against his mouth, breaking the kiss to peer down between them. She watched his hand fumbling until they pushed her panties aside and dipped between her folds. His fingertips grazed against her piercing and she moaned. She was already wet and part of her hated to admit it – but it was their argument that did it.

They were toxic. They were each other’s drug of choice. They had both gotten clean but the addiction lingered like a shadow. Something they couldn’t outrun, no matter how many times they tried to walk away.

Imani leaned over him, her breath shallow, her pulse racing. Her hands framed his face and forced Jameson’s gaze to meet her own. They didn’t exchange words but they understood each other immediately. They were choosing to be together…at least for this moment. Imani slowly lifted his shirt, waiting for him to stop her but he didn’t. All he did was pull his hands from her pants, lifted his arms, and let her.

She saw bare chest and shoulders, broad and just the same as always. Then she saw nothing. Jameson tilted her head back and took her mouth again.

Imani didn’t waste time. They had none to spare. She rolled her hips hard against him and raked her acrylics across his shoulders and then down his chest. She felt her fingers against his biceps and then his abs – searching for more while Jameson shoved his hand back down the tracksuit that neither bothered to rid her of.

“Fuck,” he groaned against her mouth. “Baby, now.” Imani murmured.

Like a man given his orders, Jameson shifted slightly to the side and began to fuck her with his fingers. Imani’s eyes fluttered closed as she rocked herself on then off his digits. Every time she slid forward, she ground her hips down – taking his fingers but beckoning his dick to harden against her. She was practically out of her mind but she had enough sense to hold on to him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he panted against her ear.

For a few minutes, she rode him like that – both of them alternating between kissing and watching his fingers twist and thrust inside her. She could feel the orgasm racing up her spine but it felt so out of reach.

Imani opened her mouth to beg for more but his thumb pressed to her clit and she inhaled sharply. Just then…they heard the front door slam.

Imani froze but Jameson didn’t stop. He kept stroking her, kissing her neck. Maybe it was because she missed him. Maybe it was because she could hear footsteps downstairs. Whatever it was…it made her shudder against him. She came on a gasp so quickly that it shocked them both. Jameson lifted his free hand, covering her mouth as she kept circling her hips, riding out the high…until he couldn’t take it anymore.

They heard the footsteps below but Jameson moved like he had all the time in the world. He pulled his fingers free, rising from the bed, and hiked her higher in his arms. Kicking her bedroom door closed, he did the same to the shirt she had peeled from his body – doing his best to make sure it was under the bed. Then he strode into the ensuite bathroom and kicked that door closed behind them too.

All Imani could do was hold on to him, not saying a word. It would have been smart to stop but as their eyes met – she knew they wouldn’t. Jameson lowered her to stand…and then he locked the door.

The soft chime of her laptop pulled Genie’s attention away from the mug of tea she’d been nursing for the past hour. After breakfast with EJ, her father had finally arrived. Genie was so excited that she didn’t care about skiing or sledding or whatever activities EJ had planned. She sat with her father and felt like a kid again – following him around the house and helping him get settled. Finally, he left her to get some rest and she had pouted.

Instead of going out into the cold, Genie decided to do some work. She had emails to go through. Offers for gowns to events, modeling offers, and even fashion jobs but one in particular caught her eye. She glanced at the screen, her brow furrowing at the sight of a name she hadn’t seen there in…a while.

Sloane.

Her first instinct was to delete it. Whatever Sloane had to say couldn’t be good, and Genie wasn’t in the mood for more drama. She and Jameson had truly rooted her out of their lives and she was glad to keep it that way but curiosity got the better of her. With a sigh, she clicked the email open.

The message was long, rambling, and filled with justifications and excuses. But the gist of it was – Jameson was once again the object of her obsession. Sloane’s words were laced with guilt and a desperation to come clean.

“I never meant for things to go this far. I swear it was just meant to convince Jameson to talk to me. I’ve only ever had you guys as friends for real. I knew once he forgave me that you might too. I only gave her advice on how to get become friends with Jamie — what he liked, what he didn’t. I recently saw that they were together and I asked Camille about it. She wouldn’t even talk to me. Once she got what she wanted, I was history. I’m sorry, Genie. I had no idea that she was like this. I just wanted my friends back and I used her to do it. I didn’t realize what a mistake that would be.”

Genie’s heart pounded as she reread that section of the email. A mix of disbelief and anger bubbled up inside her. Camille? Sloane coaching her? It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be true. Why the fuck would either of them think that’d be a good idea?

Then again…it was. It worked. Camille got close. Genie knew Sloane wasn’t telling her this from the goodness of her heart. She was probably pissed that Camille and Jameson were dating.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she slammed the laptop shut. No. If Sloane had something to say, she could say it to her face — or at least over the phone.

Genie grabbed her phone and unblocked Sloane’s number before dialing it. It rung but then had no answer. Genie quickly flipped the laptop back open and sent three words in response to the email: Call me. Now.

The line rang once – the number unfamiliar to Genie – before she picked up, her voice tense. “What the fuck is this email about?”

There was a pause, and then Sloane sighed. “Look, I messed up, okay? I didn’t think it would go this far.”

“I don’t care about your explanation or your feelings. Tell me what’s going on?” Genie snapped.

Sloane launched into the story, her words tumbling over each other in her haste to explain. She admitted to coaching Camille, giving her tips on how to appeal to Jameson — how to get under his skin. It was supposed to be for friendship reasons but Genie wasn’t naive enough to buy that shit.

Her grip on her phone tightened as Sloane’s confession unraveled. By the time she finished, Genie was shaking with anger.

“So you told this girl how to play Jameson? It was all a lie?” Genie’s voice was low, dangerous.

“To give her credit, I think she really does want to be with him. But…” Sloane said weakly. “But?!” “If you play games to get what you want, you’ll always be playing. Isn’t that way you and Jameson stopped being friends with me? Trust? You can’t trust Camille. Just like you couldn’t trust me. Eventually, she’ll start playing the same games to get what she wants.”

Genie hung up without another word, her mind racing. She couldn’t let this slide. Not again. 

She looked all over the house for Camille but of course she wasn’t there. It wasn’t until EJ told her that she’d gone skiing with his sister that she realized the truth. Genie got dressed, ignoring EJ’s questions – simply saying she wanted to ski too.

It took almost forty-five minutes for her to make it to the damn mountain. By then, she was hotter than fish grease. She had stood back and let Sloane have her way. She knew the girl was no good and still let Jameson linger around her. She wasn’t going to do it again. Especially not when EJ said he wanted something good for himself.

When she saw the two, Ella spotted her first. Genie greeted her future sister in law warmly but cut her eyes at Camille. “We need to talk,” she told her, asking Ella to wait for them at the lift.

Camille nodded, agreeing quietly. “What’s going on?”

“I just got off the phone with Sloane,” Genie said, crossing her arms as she glanced around to make sure they couldn’t be heard by Ella. “Care to explain why she’s telling me you aren’t to be trusted?”

Camille’s pretty went pale and Genie almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Until she started lying. “I…I don’t know what she's talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Genie snapped. “She told me everything. How she coached you, how you followed her little plan to befriend Jameson. Was any of it real, Camille? Or was this just some weird ass game to you both?”

Camille opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

“That’s what I thought,” Genie said, her voice shaking with anger. “You played my brother. You used him.”

“No! I didn’t!” Camille said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just – I didn’t expect to fall for him. But I did. I love Jameson. Sloane is the one – ”

Genie took a step closer, her eyes blazing. “No. You don’t get to play the victim here. You don’t get to pretend that it’s just Sloane. You manipulated him too. And I swear to god, you’re going to fix it.”

“But I…How?” Camille asked, tears brimming in her eyes.

“You’re going to tell him the truth,” Genie said firmly. “Everything. Or I will.”

Camille’s breath hitched. “Genie, please—”

“No,” Genie interrupted. “Jameson deserves better than this. He deserves the truth. EJ said you were good for him. That you were his new beginning but it’s the same old shit. You’re no better than Sloane. Tell him or I will. And the last bitch I snitched on, my brother cut her out the same night”

Camille trembled, her eyes wide. She fully believed Genie. Time after time, Jameson had told her how much his family meant to him. She knew Genie was serious.

Without another word, Genie turned on her heel, her anger still simmering as she approached Ella. She couldn’t believe she’d ever been willing to give Camille a shot. But one thing was certain — Jameson was going to hear the truth, no matter what. Whatever he decided from that point on was his business.

The water pounded against their skin, a steady rhythm that mirrored their hearts. Their clothes had been discarded in a pile on the floor. Steam filled the small bathroom, swirling around them, blurring the edges of reality. Jameson stood under the stream, his eyes closed, trying to breathe through the tension that threaded through his body. Imani was in front of him, her legs spread and her hand pressed against the stone wall to keep herself balanced. 

He pressed forward, gripping the base of his dick tightly in his grasp as he watched her welcome him in. They both exhaled in relief, pleasure making their skin tingle. The water cascaded over them and covered the sounds they couldn’t help but make. 

One of her hands came back and pressed to his thigh, pulling him forward but Jameson resisted. He only pushed the head into her, pulling back and fucking her with only that. Imani whined – he barely heard it over the spray of the shower but it was there. She turned back to look at him, frustration furrowing her brow. 

“Jamie…” she muttered, biting down on her lower lip. He gave her a little more, hands gripping her ass and pulling her cheeks apart. She gave him a giddy little smile, eyes closing as she tried to rise to the tips of her toes and slide back. One of his hands moved to grasp her waist and he kept her steady.

He couldn’t help the little delirious laugh that left his mouth. He was here with her. She wasn’t a vision or a fantasy. He was pushing into her, ignoring the way she tightened and soaked him. He was doing something wrong but it felt so fucking good that he didn’t think he’d ever find the decency to feel guilty about it. “Yeah. That’s how you sound when you really want it.”

He couldn’t see her face but he heard her words. “Shut the fuck up.”

They couldn’t spare the time, not really. But Jameson didn’t care about being found. He didn’t care about getting caught. All he gave a fuck about were the 415 days he spent without her. The nights where he wondered who got to cuddle up to her. And he decided a few extra minutes for dick couldn’t hurt her.

Jameson froze, bracing as she tried to buck back and force him to act. “Say sorry.”

Imani turned back to glare at him, the words not falling from her mouth. It was ludacris but Jameson grinned down at her, his fingertips digging into her hips to keep her still.

“Say it.” “No. Fuck you.”

He pulled out of her, opening his mouth to retort but there was a knock on the door. Imani’s head turned and she shot up, standing up straight. She stumbled back and Jameson caught her – keeping them both steady as she stared at the door.

“Y-Yeah?” She called out. “You good?”

He heard the voice call out to her and recognized it as Isaiah. He must have been who they heard come into the house. Jameson wondered how much he heard. Imani seemed to wonder the same. She turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him.

“Answer him,” he said softly, wrapping his arm around her waist as he pressed a kiss against her neck to relax her. Imani did what he said and replied to Isaiah, shouting to be heard over the shower. “I’m f-fine.”

“You sure? You ain’t come out of this room all day. I missed you on the slopes.” “I’m sorry. I’m just…not feeling good.” “Let me in, baby. I want to check on you.”

He hated hearing the word ‘babe’ fall from his lips about Imani but Jameson didn’t say a word. He stroked down her thigh, fingertips eventually grazing at her clit. “You want him to check on you?” He teased her, fingers brushing against the silver piercing between her legs. Jameson tugged it down, twisting his fingers so they hit her clit and the piercing within seconds of each other. Imani tensed but didn’t stop him.

“No! No, I’m okay. I’m just… craving…um…caviar.” “...Caviar?”

Jameson snorted with laughter and Imani slapped her hand against his wrist, trying to silence him. He responded by moving his fingers faster, strumming her clit as his foot parted her legs even wider.

“Y-Yes! Caviar!”

She didn’t even eat caviar but Imani would give anything for him to get away from the damn door. Jameson had her legs trembling and she knew it wouldn’t be much longer before she couldn’t hide the fact that she was in bliss. 

“I can see if we got some in the kitchen.” “W-We don’t. Can you go to the market?” “Which one?” “Either one! It doesn’t matter!”

Her voice picked up urgency as she twisted her hips, joining his hand in getting her off. Jameson leaned in, kissing her earlobe before he whispered lowly. “I think we about to get caught. You want him to hear how you sound when you really cum?”

Imani shook her head, refusing Jameson’s request. Isaiah was saying something else but she couldn’t hear him – didn’t want to hear him. All she could hear was Jameson whispering against her ear, all she could feel was his fingers stroking her clit and then moving – wedging inside her. “C’mere. Let me hear it.” He whispered against her ear. She didn’t know if Isaiah was gone or not but Imani knew one thing for sure: she couldn’t hold back any longer.

She gasped, buckling under the pressure as she came with a strangled moan. The orgasm hit her harder than she expected and she crumpled forward, bending at the waist as she tried to escape his hands...but he wouldn’t let her. 

“Tell me you sorry.” Jameson said and Imani didn’t have it in her to deny him anymore. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, grasping his wrist to pull his hand away as she kept coming.

He pushed her hand away, quickening his strokes and adding his other hand to rub her clit. “I can’t hear you.” 

“Baby please, I-I’m sorry.” She yelped, her voice cracking from the pleasure. 

She expected him to be obnoxious about getting an apology but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry too. For everything that led us here.”

Goosebumps spread across her skin but she didn’t have time to process what that meant. No sooner than he said the words, he was pressing into her while she was coming but he didn’t stop at the head. He kept going, pushing in and then pulling out to watch as she coated his dick in her release. “That’s pretty.” He murmured, one hand moving to her ass as the other reached up to grasp her hair. “My baby so fucking wet.” He turned them both in the shower, making her press her hands to the glass enclosing them in the space before his pace increased.

Imani’s jaw dropped as he thrust. He was trusting her to keep them both from falling against the glass and she didn’t have much faith in her abilities. Everything was trembling. Her thighs, her arms, her whole damn body. And there he was – fucking her like they weren’t under a time limit. Like they weren’t in situations with other people.

And she loved every minute of it.

Imani rose to the tips of her toes, rocking her hips hard against him. Their bodies clashed, water splashing between them as their thighs met. Jameson was so hard that it almost hurt him but he didn’t stop. He kept going, angling his hips to dig into her as deeply as he could. He hit that one spot that could damn near blind her and Imani yelped – the sound echoing throughout the bathroom.

“Baby, don’t stop.” she cried out, arms buckling as her body pressed to the glass. She gave up the pretense of holding anything up. He had a firm grip on her hair still. Head pulled back, hips jutted out, she was at his mercy. He slapped his palm against her ass, watching the cheek ripple and a groan left his body. Good. She loved to know that he was going crazy just like she was.

Jameson let her hair go and Imani’s face pressed to the glass, cheek against the cold as her hands reached back to grasp his thighs.

“W-Why you fucking me like this?” she whined, eyes rolling as he throbbed deep within her. “Because,” he grunted, being more honest than he wanted to be. “I love you. I need you. And I missed the fuck out of this pussy.”

That seemed to be the answer her body craved. Imani felt the rush hit her again. Jameson could feel it coming. She squeezed and pulled at his dick so good that he was shocked he hadn’t finished inside her yet. When she lost the ability to speak, he pressed her fully against the glass and bucked his hips – moving so fast that to peer down between them would be like looking at a damn blur. Her ass rebounded each time he pressed forward and Jameson pulled her cheeks apart again – arching her hips the way he liked. 

“I missed this dick so much.” she cried out, shaking as she came and confessed. “Nobody can fuck me like you do.” Her body was trembling uncontrollably as she released wave after wave of warm wetness onto him. The powerful way her pussy clenched tightly had him shaking too. Pulling him in and throbbing with every pulse of pleasure that erupted from within her. The hot water had faded into warm and was bordering on cold now but he didn’t give a shit. Jameson kept going as his soft grunts echoed off the walls of the shower.

“Fuck your pussy, baby,” she muttered, gasping out for breath. She was delirious after her third orgasm but he wasn’t done. He wanted another from her. It was that need to prove to her how he felt. The words weren’t working anymore. Words had failed them both. But when they got like this – they said everything they ever needed to say.

“This mine?” He asked her, moaning when she bobbed her head – nodding so fast that he barely got the question out. “You mean it?”

“Mhm!.” “My fucking baby. That pussy welcoming me home?” “Yes!” She cried, choking the word out with a groan. “Say it’s mine again.” “It’s yours, daddy! I promise.” “You gone give my shit away again?” “Un-uh! I’m never giving your pussy away again.” “Swear it.” “I swear, daddy!” “I’ma make sure you keep that promise.” “Jamie, please. I can’t. I can’t anymore. Cum.” “Not yet. One more. Then I’ll give you everything.” “You promise?” “I swear, baby.”

Imani nodded her head and hiked her leg up, resting it against the shower bench, and went to work. She sensuously rolled her hips against him, looking back over her shoulder and meeting his gaze.

She recognized that wild, borderline delirious look in his eyes. It was the same one she had. “Tell me this dick is mine.” she demanded. She had given him everything, had bared her feelings out throughout sex and she wanted the same from him. When they got out of this shower, she wanted to know he was hers. 

Surprise ignited in Jameson’s eyes and the tightening in his gut told him that he liked her possessiveness. After a year of believing she was apathetic to him, it fed something in him. 

“This your dick.” He told her with a grin. “Say it again,” Imani demanded.

He watched as her hand wedged between her legs, rubbing her sensitive clit. Her legs shook but she fought the urge to close them as his dick swelled within her. “This your dick, baby.”

“Again.” She demanded once more. “This your dick.” He told her seriously, moving his hands to brace against her hips and help her cum around him. “I belong to you. I’m not living if I’m not with you. I’m just existing.”

He watched her face soften as he confessed and Jameson leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. He slowed down, giving her deep and hard strokes as she squeaked out his name. He felt her cum around him again and his eyes shut as he wrapped his arms around her. He was done for. No good anymore.

Imani’s head fell back to his shoulder and she dragged his hand up her body, resting his hand against her neck. “Choke me.” She moaned out, knowing exactly what he needed. Jameson did as she asked, his thumb and ring finger pressing tightly against the sides of her neck. He didn’t do this with Camille. Comparing the two women never felt right but he had done it. Cami liked to be coddled and petted. He had done it and he enjoyed it. But this? Wild, reckless, uninhibited sex with Imani was heaven. She hummed happily and Jameson lifted his leg – resting it against hers on the bench as he jerked once…twice…and then emptied himself inside her.

They ground their hips against each other, Imani moving in the opposite direction as he did – dragging out their orgasms. Jameson twitched, grunting each time he sunk into her. Peering down between them, he watched his dick – covered in his nut and her cum slide in and out of her. He knew right then and there that he was never going to let this girl leave him again. They were going to have to figure this shit out. He loved fucking her but he loved the way she held on to him even more. His arms were right tightly around her and she sighed happily when he released her neck.

Imani sank into his embrace, silence taking over as the two of them listened to the cold water running and splashing against their feet. Jameson dropped his foot, leaning over to shut the water off and then he pressed his face against her neck – taking a deep breath and holding her tightly.

“I love you, baby.” Imani whispered. “I love you too.” Jameson replied.

Isaiah’s brows furrowed in confusion as he padded down the hallway. His mind still stuck on the whimpers he heard. Caviar? Caviar? Why the fuck would she want that? He shook his head and took a deep breath. Whatever Imani needed him to do, he would do it without question. He was determined to impress her. She was unlike any girl he had ever met – independent, beautiful, and successful in her own right. She was the dream girl of every man. He knew he needed her on his team. 

Entering the kitchen, he spotted Camille sitting at the island with a steaming mug in her hands. Her hands were shaking but still, she blew into it gently – sending plumes of hot steam swirling into the air. Walking over to the fridge, he opened it with hopefulness, searching for caviar. He didn’t want to go outside again. Isaiah was tired of the cold already. To his disappointment, there was none. 

Camille asked him sullenly, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Mani just asked me for some caviar.” He said. 

“Caviar? Why would she want that?”

“I don’t know, man. She’s been in the room all day. She told me she wasn’t feeling well and wanted some caviar. Then I heard her in the shower, breathing all heavy and shit. It was fucking weird.”

As Isaiah spoke about Imani’s request, he noticed Camille’s facial expression change slowly. She already looked upset but it was like something had turned her stomach. Confused by her reaction, he narrowed his eyes at her and asked, “What?”

Camille swallowed before speaking again, “Do you know about her history with Jameson?”

Isaiah’s jaw clenched at the mention of that name. He despised Jameson and the feeling appeared to be mutual – all the sharp and icy looks he had been given him this whole weekend was proof enough of that. And then there was the way Jameson looked at Imani. Isaiah didn’t even want to think about it. From what she had told him, he was her ex. But Isaiah wasn’t worried. He knew he could give Imani more opportunities than that nigga ever could. 

“Nah, all I know is he’s her ex.” Isaiah replied with a nonchalant shrug. “I ain’t worried though.” 

Camille seemed defeated when she spoke again. “You should be. I-I don’t think she’s fully over him and she might have invited you out here for the wrong reasons.” 

Isaiah shook his head and waved off her concerns. “You trippin’. Me and Mani good. I’m a go get this caviar for her. I’ll be back.” He walked away to brave the frigid cold outside. Camille’s words stayed in his mind. But he quickly brushed them aside – what did Camille know about their relationship anyway? Jameson may have been Imani’s ex, but he was not Isaiah. 

He couldn’t quite believe that this was reality. Even as they both dried off and he tugged his underwear and pants back on…it didn’t feel real. Jameson kept staring at Imani, wondering if she’d disappear if he blinked too much. They had long since turned off the shower. Jameson sat her on the counter, cleaning up the mess they had both made before they redressed…and now he was standing behind her, holding on as if she’d fade away if he let go. “We got a lot of shit to work out…but I can't tell if I'm just imagining you. Is this real?” He pressed a kiss to her head, sighing softly in relief.

“It’s real.” She turned to face him, gazing into his eyes. Imani grabbed his face. She sighed, “I’m sorry for everything, baby. I wish I did so much shit differently. If I could go back, I would. We woulda worked this shit out and it wouldn’t be all…complicated like it is now.” 

It was insane how he relaxed the more she spoke. When he woke up that morning, he’d done it miserable and pissed at her. And now there he was – putty in her hands. “I can’t blame you too much,” he said softly, contradicting the heated words he’d spat out earlier. “I didn’t make you feel safe. I’m gonna make it uncomplicated. I’ll talk to Camille.”

He felt guilty about it. Camille had only been his girlfriend for a month but they were working towards building something. This was going to come out of left field for her but what else was he supposed to do? Imani was everything. And he was tired of pretending she wasn’t.

In the heat of the moment, she had forgotten about Camille and Isaiah. Imani felt terrible about them being casualties in their mess, but with him in her arms, she would do it all over again if she had to. “I’m sorry about that too.” 

He sighed softly, leaning in to kiss her. “You ain’t sorry. Just like I’m not sorry about that dickhead being shown the door.” Jameson shook his head, sighing softly as he pressed his forehead to hers. “We kinda fucked up, baby.”

She chuckled lowly. Imani dropped her hands, resting them on his shoulder. “I know. I know. You my fuck up though.” She said, kissing him again. “I don’t want to leave.” Imani sighed, knowing they spent far too much time in the bathroom. But it felt like they had only been in there for five minutes. She wasn’t ready to face reality just yet. 

“Me either.” He said softly. “But we have to. We at least owe them the truth.” He knew it wouldn’t change the fact that they were guilty but at least the truth would be out. “I gotta go talk to Camille. C’mon.”

She didn’t want to let him go, but she had to. Once they told their truths, they could be back in each other's arms again. “I’m ready, Jay. I need last night to be the last time I’ve slept without you in my arms.”

Jameson tsked softly, trying not to smile at how affectionate she was being. He had all but considered this lost. He began backing up to the bathroom door and unlocked it. “Don’t remind me about last night. I still owe you for that.” He pulled the door open, waiting for her to exit first. He still had to find his shirt but he was in no hurry.

Isaiah couldn’t shake Camille’s words and the muffled moans he heard from the bathroom before leaving to go to the market. He thought she was just being paranoid until he spotted Jameson down the hall, out of his and Imani’s room as he walked toward it. What the fuck was he doing in there? He glared at Jameson but was met with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes. Isaiah opened their room door, walked inside, and slammed it close behind him. 

Imani’s back was turned to him, but she jumped and glared at him. “What the hell, Isaiah!?” She said, sternly. 

Ignoring her question, he stared at her coldly. “The fuck was he doing in here?” Imani believed she had time to gather herself before she told Isaiah about what happened with her and Jameson, but Isaiah running into him let her know her time expired. 

Imani felt terrible about what she did even though she didn’t regret it at all. Her relationship with Isaiah was similar to her other flings: going nowhere. She could never give any of them her heart, because Jameson had it and this time, he came back to claim it. She hated that Isaiah had to be a casualty, but she was still dumbfounded. From what she knew about Isaiah, he seemed like he was sweet and kind, but here he was towering over her with his fists balled and his eyebrows furrowed. 

Imani stood up, exhaling softly. “Isaiah, Jamie and I slept together,” she paused, glancing at him. Horizontal wrinkles appeared on his face as he stared at her with his eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into all of this mess.”

Isaiah tsked, shaking his head. “Damn, Imani, it’s really him over me, huh?” He chuckled in disbelief. “You really dragged me out here to play me for some square ass nigga.” Isaiah couldn’t believe it. What did that man have that he didn’t? He was paid, definitely had more money than what Jameson could offer. He could get Imani whatever she wanted. Women would drop everything to be with someone like that, so why didn’t she? 

Her eyes squinted and her body tensed as he insulted Jameson. She wanted to allow him to be angry, but her patience could only take her so far. “I’m sorry – it’s not even like that.” she said softly. “But let’s be real with ourselves, you and I both know this wasn’t going anywhere.” She knew she wasn’t the only one on his roster of women. The man had access to anything he wanted. She saw how he angled his phone away from her while she was near and she heard all of the gossip surrounding him. Pussy was flying at him. How could a stable relationship ever be built off of that?

He stood there with his fists balled, never breaking his intense gaze on her. A quietness fell between them before Isaiah opened his mouth again. “Man, fuck you. I was ready to drop everything for you.”

“Fuck me?” She said, her voice strained and eyes squinted. “Nigga, fuck you. We’ve only known each other for a month and I know you got other hoes.”

“I was gone drop all of them for you!” He said, raising his voice. 

She exhaled, rubbing her forehead as she searched for the right words to appease him. “Look, I’m sorry, Isaiah. It ain’t have anything to do with you. It’s nothing against you. You’re just not him.”

Isaiah chuckled. “I’m not him? I know. I’m better than that nigga. He can’t spoil you like I can. I got you here on my own private jet. You ain’t gone experience no shit like that in your life ever again.” 

Imani rolled her eyes. She was done with being polite to him. She wasn’t familiar with this side of Isaiah. He was always kind and sweet to her, but now? He seemed like an asshole who had too many chances. “Trust me, I don’t need to be with you to experience any of that. I got my own shit. Now get the fuck out of here.”

He stepped closer to her with a heated glare and she peered at his clenched fists. Imani stared right back at him with her hands over her chest. She wasn’t scared of this man. “Fuck you! I can go get another bitch like you easily. You not special.” He countered. 

“Well then go find the bitch and get the fuck out of here!” She yelled loudly, tired of going back and forth with someone she wasn’t vested in. Imani pinched the bridge of her nose. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she looked at him with a death glare. Isaiah finally stepped back and pivoted on his feet. 

He walked into the closet they shared, mumbling something. Imani didn’t care what it was. She was just happy to hear him packing his things along with it. 

Jameson approached the door, wariness and anxiety inside him The soft hum of the heater filled the hallway with warmth but  it did nothing to ease the chill in his chest. He still felt the heat of Imani’s kisses against his lips, the feeling of her body fitting perfectly against his. He wanted to go back to that – to be anywhere that wasn’t this cold, broken place. He opened the door, stepping inside and stopped short. Camille was already back – sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to him.

Her snow suit was on and her suitcase was repacked. Confusion furrowed his brow but Jameson shut the door behind him, inspecting the rest of the room.

Two dozen roses sat wilting in a vase on the dresser—an ironic reminder of the fleeting romance he had tried to build with Camille. He could still see the way he and Camille were that morning – warm kisses and affection between them. But in the light of day, the heat he had with Imani had put it to shame. Now he was guilty of something he never wanted to do again: Cheating

“Hey,” she said softly, as he closed the door. “I was waiting for you. Where have you been?”

Jameson looked up at her, his heart twisting. There was no excuse he could give her besides the truth. That’s what he was here for anyway. “I…was with Imani.”

He heard her sigh and saw her head nod dutifully. “Yeah, I figured.”

He took a deep breath, his voice low and pained as he continued on. “I... I slept with her.” He could have just broken up with her and hid the truth but that wouldn’t be fair. If she was going to hate him, it should be for the right reasons. He deserved her scorn and her anger. 

The words hung heavy in the air and slowly Camille turned around. “What?”

“I slept with Imani,” he said, his voice strained. “It just happened. I didn’t plan it and I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t just lie either.”

He took a good look at her face, realizing she seemed upset even before he spoke. She gripped the sheets in her hand, eyes glossy with tears. “You...really slept with her?”

Jameson nodded, guilt etched into every line of his face. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to fight how I feel about her, but it’s not going away. I thought I could move on. I wanted to move on, Cami. I wanted it to be with you but I just – I love her.”

“You told me she wasn’t good for you.” Camille muttered.

“She isn’t.” He said softly. “I’m not good for her either. But she’s my heart. And I’m hers. I always have been.”

Camille’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “No, Jameson. You don’t mean that. We’ve been so good together. We can work through this.”

He stepped closer, his voice desperate. He wanted her to hate him, yell at him. Not beg him to stay. “Camille, you deserve someone who can give you their whole heart. I thought I could, but I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

She stared at him, her chest rising and falling as she tried to process his words. “You can’t leave me for her. Not now.” 

Jameson reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “I never wanted to hurt you. You’ve been incredible, but I don’t want to live the rest of my life lying.”

Camille’s shoulders sagged, and she let out a bitter laugh. “You know what’s funny? I was going to tell you the truth – all of it – but I didn’t want to ruin things. I didn’t want to lose you.”

He frowned. “The truth? What do you mean?”

She wiped at her tears, her voice trembling. “I didn’t just show up in your life by chance. Sloane sent me. She told me how to get close to you, how to make you fall for me. At first, it was just a game, but then... I started to care about you. I really did.”

Jameson stared at her, his jaw tightening. “A game?”

“A game. You seem to like them so much with Imani so why not with me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was supposed to convince you to forgive Sloane.”

The room fell silent, the weight of their confessions pressing down on both of them.

Jameson finally spoke, his voice low. “So was this whole thing was a lie?”

“No!” Camille said softly. “Not all of it. I love you, Jameson. I really do. We…we made something really beautiful together and I –”

He shook his head, stepping back. “So everything I thought this was, it wasn’t. I felt so guilty. I still feel guilty…but clearly this wasn’t meant to be.”

Tears streamed down Camille’s face as she sank onto the bed. “It was real. We were real.”

“Were we?” He asked softly. “The woman I thought was so good for me isn’t real. Do you like the shit you told me you do? Do you feel the way you told me you do? All those nights I rambled to you about Imani. About what I wanted out of life. I was talking to a woman I don’t know.”

Camile shook her head. “So what if I don’t like jazz, Jameson? So what if hate cooking? I lied about little stuff! How I feel is not a lie!”

“If you’ll lie about the little shit, you’ll lie about everything.”

She shook her head, wiping the tears away from her way brusquely. “Like you’re one to talk. You just finish fucking another woman!”

Jameson was silent for a moment, nodding. “You’re right. I thought I was moving forward but really…I wasn’t. I was just existing. I’m sorry, Camille. I’m sorry it ended like this.”

Her heart was heavy as she watched him and he could see the moment she accepted that it was over. She didn’t say a word but he took a step closer to her, pressing his hand to hers. This time, she let him. “I’m sorry I pulled you into my life. I’m sorry Sloane pointed you in my direction. I hurt you and I’ll regret that forever. I hope you find someone who makes you happy, Camille. You deserve that.”

And with that, he walked out, leaving her alone in the room, the sound of her quiet sobs echoing behind him.

Camille stepped out into the biting cold, her breath visible in the frosty air. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, her mind spinning with Jameson's words. She dragged her suitcase behind her, trying to make a quick escape. She didn't see Jameson or Genie as she left the house and wanted to keep it that way. Her heels crunched against the snow as she made her way down the steps of the house, desperate to escape.

“Excuse me?”

She turned at the sound of a man's voice and came face to face with Kendrick Adesanya. He stood by his car, dressed in a wool coat and scarf, his hands in his pockets. His expression was one of mild surprise but quickly shifted to concern as he took in her tear-streaked face and trembling hands.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer.

Camille shook her head, wiping at her face hastily. She could see Genie in his face and the reminder of the woman sent her spiraling. “No, I’m not. I need to get out of here.”

“Where are you going?”

“The airport,” she said, her voice tight. “I can’t stay here.”

Kendrick frowned. “Well, do you need a ride?”

She hesitated, her pride warring with her desperation. Finally, she nodded. “Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Kendrick said. He opened the passenger door of his car, gesturing for her to get in. He moved across the snow and ice, reaching for her bag. Free from the heavy thing, Camille made her way to the car.

He placed it in the backseat and then Kendrick slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the car humming to life. Relief flooded through her system. She was on her way.

As they pulled out of the lodge’s driveway, Kendrick glanced at her. “Are you sure you want to go straight to the airport? It’s late, and you seem... upset. I can get you a room somewhere for the night.”

Camille shook her head vehemently. “No. I need to leave. I can’t stay here another second.”

Kendrick was quiet for a moment, his hands steady on the wheel. “Did something happen? Are you...you're Camille, right? Correct me if I'm wrong but you were supposed to be there with Jameson.”

She hesitated, not wanting to spill her humiliation, but the weight of the day pressed down on her. “It’s just... so much. Everything’s falling apart. Jameson and I are over. My life is chaos. And I couldn't stay there any longer.”

Kendrick glanced at her again, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know what’s going on, but running might not fix it.”

Camille let out a bitter laugh. “Trust me. Running is the best thing for me right now. My boyfriend is in love with someone else, your daughter wants my head, and I can't trust anybody.”

He sighed, his tone softening. “I'm sorry about Jameson. I don’t know you that well, but I’ve been around long enough to see when someone’s at their breaking point. If you need to talk, I’m here. No judgment. As Genie's father, I can confirm that her bark is worse than her bite. ”

Camille stared out the window, her fingers tightening around her bag. “Thank you, Mr. Adesanya. But I think I just need to get away.”

"Call me Kendrick."

The rest of the drive was silent, the tension in the car palpable. When they reached the airport, Kendrick pulled up to the curb and put the car in park.

“Take care of yourself, Camille,” he said as she climbed out.

She paused, looking back at him. “Thanks for the ride. And being so kind.”

He gave her a small smile. “Anytime.”

Camille shut the door and walked into the airport, her heart heavy and her mind racing. She didn’t know what she was running toward, but she knew she couldn’t stay where she was.

[meshiinuma]

type

relationship: poly satosugu x reader

desc: clearly satoru has a type + bed time

wrd cnt: 3.3k

warnings: the reader is so fucking specific . like theyre chubby, brown, have glasses, dark hair, n dark eyes. sorry 2 anyone who isnt that HJSJDHSJ, gn reader, fluff

a(shley's)/n: first post whoopie !! also . chubby sugubooboo REALNESS !!!!!!! visit sometime is being worked on PROMISEEE its at 12k words rn n its only the first chapter [im planning on writing the rest of the chapters b4 publishing bcuz i feel bad abandoning things so its probs gonna b over 300k by the time im done w the whole thing . sigh.] ok. enjoy . [also u can tell whos my favorite]

the tiny couch the three of you crammed onto every evening felt incredibly warm. it did every day.

suguru was on the farthest left (when you’re sitting on the couch and facing the tv in front of it), laying back on the couch with a pillow underneath his head. satoru was on the farthest right, using the armrest as a prop for his head and playing on his nintendo switch. you were leaning back on suguru’s stomach, on your phone.

gurgle! grrk! 

“your stomach’s talking shit about you, suguru.” you warned, scrolling through the comments on a post.

“what’s it saying?” he asked offhandedly, turning a page.

“‘s gonna kill you man.” 

“crazy…” he trailed off and you noticed his reading glasses slipping down his nose slowly.

you pulled yourself up his body and pushed them up with your pointer finger, then laid a kiss against the apple of his cheek.

suguru looked down at you, dark brown eyes so clear you could see yourself reflected in them almost. he put a pretty bookmark with a nice yellow tassel between the pages and set it on the side table.

“now what do you from me? hm?” he drew you fully to his chest where he started to nip at your cheeks and jaw. giggle “kisses sugu! gimme kisses!” you exclaimed as he started to lay light kisses from the tippy top of your head down to your collarbone. everywhere his lips touched made little sparks fly under your skin, love flooding through every vein in your body at suguru’s affection.

you kept giggling with suguru, returning his little kisses, straddling his thighs, and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“ewww!” satoru suddenly interjected. looking behind you, your third was sticking his tongue out and powering his switch off, “get a room,” he said and tried to crawl between you and suguru. 

“what are you- ack!” satoru nestled himself sideways in the little pocket of space between and was already half hanging off the couch. suguru got elbowed a bit.

you pulled back and sat on your haunches to let satoru get comfortable, “everything good?” you asked, waiting for him to finish wriggling around, “it’d be better if you could get down here…” he asked and gazed at you over his shoulder coquettishly. the look made your stomach suddenly combust into a horde of butterflies that expressed themselves through possessing your body and draping yourself over your two lovers.

satoru got a kiss on the little circle at the top of his head where his hair grew from and a bit of scalp shone through, “better?” quietly suguru mumbled into the air. 

“mhm…” was satoru’s response.

you shifted around to get satoru and suguru in your sights at the same time, enraptured with the beauty of your lovers. if you lost the ability to see them everyday, you think you’d sob inconsolably.

eventually, you shoved yourself into the space between suguru and the back cushions, finding the best view. 

suguru had slid further down the couch, fully using the arm rest as a pillow with eyes closed and glasses firmly placed at eye level. satoru faced the tv, eyes closed as well, and was clutching suguru’s arm wrapped around him.

and then you. 

you glanced up to see a vague shape of your body reflected in the dark tv screen, a part of a blob of skin and other various hues. the final piece to the puzzle.

as you settled into the warmth of suguru’s chest (his arm went around you straight away, no looking) and wrapped your arm around satoru’s shoulder (he grabbed it and tucked it close to his chest), you faintly realized something.

“you have a type satoru,” you said quietly.

out of the corner of your eye you saw suguru’s eye peek open.

“no i don’t?” he rolled in place to face you, hot breath fanning over your exposed arm.

“yeah you do.” this time you were looking directly into his eyes, challenging his denial.

“oh yeah? what’s my type?” satoru fired back, cocky sounding.

“dark hair, dark eyes, glasses, brown skin, chubby, and a little mean to you.” that seemed to shut him up, suguru’s eyes fully open and filled with mirth.

“...dunno what you’re talking ‘bout…” satoru pouted at being found out so quickly. 

“think about it! i have dark hair, suguru has dark hair. suguru has dark eyes, i have dark eyes. we both wear glasses-”

“not all the time!” at satoru’s interjection, you and suguru shared a look and stared back down at him.

“...nevermind. continue.” 

“we’re both brown and chubby-” as you said this, you moved satoru’s hands up to yours and your dark haired lovers stomachs, making him squeeze them a bit. satoru blushed.

“and we’re mean to you! it’s like me and sugu are the same people, it’s crazy.” you finished and looked up at suguru for approval on your insight.

“they’re not wrong,” he added, “and we’re dating each other, so it’s like how people are attracted to similar personalities.”

satoru shook himself out of the brief pull you and suguru had on him, “then what does that say about you two for dating me?” he asked genuinely.

“hmm…” you held your chin, submerging into deep thought.

“oh! we like annoying guys like you!” suguru replied for the two of you.

“yeah!” 

now satoru really was pouting.

“but we love you for it ‘toru! its cute!” you amended, pulling his face towards you so you could pepper him with kisses.

suguru joined in and wrapped his arms around the two of you, giving satoru kisses all over his head.

“haha! okay, okay!” satoru’s face was tinged pink all the way up to his scalp and his smile stretched wide. you think his eyes were glowing twice as much, filled to the brim with emotion.

“getting shy?” suguru mumbled coyly into his ear. satoru looked away bashfully and his face turned five shades deeper, “no…” 

you planted a wet kiss right on his burning cheek mwah!, “cutie…now go turn the tv on,” you said with a snicker as the red slowly faded from satoru’s face.

“really?” he grumbled, but got up anyway to turn the tv on and grab the remote.

“thank youuu!” you cooed when satoru came back and rewarded his efforts with a kiss right at the junction between his neck and jaw.

he just mumbled something and cuddled back into you and suguru. the top of his head was a bit red.

“what do you wanna watch?” you asked.

“i demand...netflix!” satoru exclaimed and raised the remote high above his head. 

at the same time, you and suguru spoke, “alright.” satoru looked back, “jeez maybe you two are the same person…” 

you brushed the comment off and urged him to pick something to watch. satoru chose a k-drama series he was halfway through and started from the beginning, “just for you two! no one else,” he said and put the remote on the side table.

*

an hour or two later, the three of you reached the point satoru had gotten to. or rather the two of you, as satoru had fallen asleep after the first episode and was snoring into suguru’s hockey jersey sleeve. 

suguru had his head turned and was just staring at the screen, a bit bored looking.

you had both your hands buried under his jersey, absentmindedly kneading at the pudge lining his midsection and brushing his happy trail back and forth, “ready to sleep?” the question was gently whispered by you, taking care not to wake satoru. 

“yeah,” suguru said, moving the hand that was caressing your back to the back of your head and kissed your crown. he turned around to reach the remote, but you stopped him.

“wait! wait!” you protested quietly, “i can get it.” suguru gave you a skeptical look, “okay…”

and then you fully shoved yourself under his oversized st. louis blues jersey.

“wh- hey!” he patted your back, trying to track your wriggling body. you shoved your arm through the neck hole and scrambled for the remote behind suguru’s head. 

once you finally got a hold on the plastic device, you pointed it at the tv, “can you pause it and turn the tv off?” 

sigh “you know? i don’t think you and i are alike at all.” his hand engulfed yours and clicked around a bit before the remote was slipped away from your hand.

“you’re so warm sugu…” you slurred, the feeling of being comfortable and lack of sleep getting to you.

underneath suguru’s jersey, you were surrounded on all sides by warmth. 

above you was the white of his jersey, underneath you was his warm and fuzzy torso, and radiating all around you was warmth. you snuggled into the artificial embrace, kicking your legs underneath his.

then suguru suddenly yanked the top of his jersey above your head.

cold flooded straight into your bones. you expressed this with a shiver and tightening your fetal position on suguru’s midsection.

“c’mon. up.” he urged you up and off the couch, slinging satoru over a broad shoulder.

“you can cuddle when we’re in bed, alright?” he held your face in the palm of his very big hand and tilted his head to the side a bit, “yeah,” you said, a bit spacey at the thought of being cuddled up to one of the men of your dreams (you get to paw and chew at him like a dog every night, but that didn’t mean it felt like a bit of a privilege to haul suguru around in bed like that). 

he kissed your head, “good.” and trodded off to the bedroom with his two lovers in tow, of course. 

suguru laid satoru on the bed first and caressed the side of his face with the back of his hand. the love that suguru exercised for you and satoru shocked you to your core sometimes. it was easy to forget the gentle touches amidst all the roughhousing shared between the three of you.

after he leaned down and laid a featherlight kiss between satoru’s eyes, he looked up at you.

“ready?” 

without waiting for a response, he glided to the bathroom. assured in your ability to follow.

a quick pit stop was made before you joined suguru in the bathroom. you hovered over satoru’s slumbering body, clad in an oversized band tee acquired the summer before and basketball shorts from suguru (maybe. possibly. it’s gotten hard to tell over the years). he looked beautiful with the moonlight flooding through the huge window next to the bed. 

with the same gentleness suguru possessed, light fingers skimmed across his forehead and drew his hair away from his eyes. you planted a big wet kiss right at the center of his temples.

that stirred him awake.

“mngh…” his eyes fluttered open, but eventually decided to close.

“go back to sleep for me baby, ‘kay?” you whispered into his ear, already holding the top of the thirty pound weighted blanket satoru slept with every night.

once satoru settled down again, you tiptoed to the bathroom, light already on underneath the door. 

“hi,” you said at a volume less than normal. 

suguru had his jersey sleeves rolled up and was applying face cream when you walked in, “hey.” he replied in kind, gave you a kiss on the cheek, and went back to making sure all of the product reached every nook and cranny of his face.

you slithered behind him and wrapped your arms around his cinched waist. you squeezed a little, making suguru wheeze a bit unexpectedly, an inside joke from before any romance entered your lives.

then your hands dipped above the hem of his jersey, still craving body heat.

“if you tickle me, i’ll punch you.” he warned, looking back at you over his shoulder. 

if you were to be on the receiving end of any of suguru’s attacks while he does martial arts training, you think you’d ascend to something higher than heaven. 

you didn’t say that though. all you did was look up at him dopily and smile, “okay.”

he looked at you suspiciously and went back to finishing his nightly routine. maybe you should start on your own as well. but what kept you from pulling away wasn’t the wonderful texture of suguru’s body, no, it was him expanding and deflating his chest in a timely manner.

he was breathing. and you were right there feeling that. 

this was real. the fact you got to wake up everyday, be with your two lovers, come home to a warm couch, and hold the people you love like this all the time made you feel like puking. in a good way.

suguru was completely oblivious to the lovey-dovey thoughts circling your head. he had moved on to dental care and was currently on the last step, scraping his tongue. 

you watched him through the mirror, sighing and swooning over every little action he made. the way he flexed a bit when he pressed the metal scraper on the back of his tongue, the way nails covered in flaking black polish pried the storage for the scraper open, the way he reapplied pomegranate chapstick, the way he turned to you with a look he only reserves for you and satoru, the way his mouth moved-

wait. his mouth is moving?

you snapped yourself out of your stupor and tuned back into the conversation.

“-and then we can sleep, don’t want to keep satoru waiting.” 

yeah, you have no clue what he’s talking about.

you tilted your head, a little smile teasing your lips, “what’d you say?”

suguru’s face fell from something loving and soft into a deadpan, the reading glasses he still had on emphasized his disappointment.

“you’re such a bad listener, you know that right?” he grabbed his bottle of amla hair oil (almost empty, you’d need to stop by the international grocery store to get more soon) and placed it on the counter.

“i just need you to oil my hair for me, it’s been getting a little dry.” a simple request you’ve fulfilled many times before.

you don’t think suguru needed a verbal response with the way you pulled out the shower stool stored under the sink and patted the seat, urging him to take a seat.

he sat down and tugged the hair tie holding his half bun in place. a bad habit suguru has is leaving his hair ties anywhere and everywhere, today was no exception.

suguru flicked the scrunchie away somewhere in the bathroom and let his lovely tresses fall down his back. 

one of you would get that. later. 

for now, you wanted to focus on suguru’s dying and unhydrated hair (it wasn’t that bad, just felt a little rough in your hands is all).

the motion of pouring oil onto your hands, rubbing them together, then starting at the roots was a well practiced routine. oftentimes, you and satoru would tackle suguru’s full head of hair at the same time to split the workload and provide the man with a relieving head massage. 

unfortunately, satoru’s incapacitated state on the bed meant he couldn’t help out this time. whatever. you’d get all the kisses and cuddles from suguru as a reward later.

you finally started to get to the ends of his hair, a particularly dried section.

“careful with the oil, don’t want it to stain my shirt.” he says that every time. 

and you were careful. every time.

suguru’s hair was freshly oiled and you dried your hands with a hand towel hanging on the towel rack while your boyfriend pulled on his long satin bonnet. he started to walk out of the bathroom before you remembered something, “!”

he turned around at the doorway, “what?”

“i forgot to do my own routine,” you said, turning to the vanity and picking out what you needed for the night.

“i can wait.” suguru closed the door and slumped onto the toilet seat cover.

“you don’t have to-” 

“i’m staying.” he leaned back, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes.

you just rolled your eyes and started your night routine.

the silence between the two of you was nice. all that filled the quiet was the low hum of the bathroom fan. (you missed the way suguru was eyeing you with hooded eyes and a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he really loves you.)

by the time you finished, suguru had gone back to his stationary position with his eyes closed. you admired him and then leaned down to nuzzle your head against the crown of his head, his eyes opened pretty fast after that.

you laid a sweet kiss right against his lips, the fruity taste from his chapstick transferring to your own. then to tease him, you licked a little stripe up the center of his lips, coating his ashley piercing in spit.

“blegh! don’t do that!” and he smacked you away as you giggled.

suguru stood up and started to walk ahead of you, “i think the lack of sleep is getting to your head…” 

“whatever.” you turned the bathroom light off and closed the door behind you.

you threw yourself onto the bed and writhed in place a bit, trying to find the best sleeping position. on the contrary, suguru sat on the bed, swung his legs around, and tucked himself under the edge of the blanket pretty fast.

eventually, you found a good position. your back was to suguru’s front and you were curled facing satoru’s sleeping front. this was what you settled on every night.

but despite how tired you were, something in you still made you want to twist and turn in place like a worm. just to get all the energy out.

behind you, suguru was setting the digital alarm clock on the nightstand for some ungodly time in the morning (so he can get his workout routine out of the way). you found your perfect victim.

you pounced on suguru as softly as you could (once he turned around of course, you’d feel bad if he fell off the bed) and smothered him in kisses. 

“hi, hey, what’s up?” he sounded like he was trying not to giggle and laugh too loudly, for fear of waking up satoru.

“i dunno.” you teased and peppered featherlight kisses from the bottom of his frames down to his little double chin, giving him a big kiss where it dipped down the most. (a little freckle was right next to it. your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness yet, but you knew it was there.)

suguru returned your affections with kisses on your cheeks that pushed so far you could feel the pressure on your tongue. you snickered bashfully and kicked your legs a little.

after that, all the fight and energy left you in favor of fatigue slipping into the cracks. you flopped beside suguru and gave him a final kiss on his right temple, “love you.” you whispered.

he turned your body around so you were back on your side and facing satoru. “love you back.” suguru whispered and kissed the back of your head.

you missed your third dearly. so in tandem, you and suguru reached out to pull satoru into your combined warmth.

at the same time, you and suguru each gave him a kiss at random points on his head, whispering the same thing, “love you so much.”

satoru woke up at the combined affection. just enough to finish the final step before sleep could claim you. he leaned forward enough to brush his lips against your nose, “love you baby.” then he reached as far as he could and kissed suguru’s neck, “love you su.” and he collapsed in front of you, back to sleep.

suguru shifted behind you, something clacking around on the side table. he put his fingers around the bridge of your glasses and folded them carefully. they clacked next to his.

your eyes closed as a big warm arm laid across your waist and extended outwards to the body in front of you.

[mordredisacoolname]

GRISHAVERSE CHARACTERS WHEN YOU FALL ASLEEP ON THEM

Shadow and bone / six of Crows

MALE READER (can also be read as gn)

Characters: Alina Mal Genya Nikolai Kaz Inej Jesper Nina Wylan Matthias

*Mostly based on the show as I'm only in the middle of Siege and Storm

ALINA- you were both very tired, riding in a carriage led by horses. Alina was starting outside the window when she felt a weight on her shoulder, turning her head she saw you with your eyes closed asleep on her. Smiling to herself she moved a little so you'd be more comfortable and spread a little warmth through you so you won't be cold. She tried staying as still as possible in the carriage to not wake you up.

MAL- you were both drinking some kvas and talking nonsense outside your tent while everyone else were asleep. As he stared into the sky talking about keramzin memories he was interrupted by your head falling on his shoulder. "Do I bore you this much?" He barked out a laugh, watching your sleepy face and moving to a more comfortable position. He decided to let you sleep a little more before waking you up and returning to the tent.

NIKOLAI- you were hanging out in his ship quarters with a few other ship mates, his arm hang around your shoulders when he felt your body leaning towards his own, your hair tickling his neck. He watched you in amusement while Tamar and Pryvet were telling a story about a past adventure, tightening his arm around you.

GENYA- you both were sitting on a sofa in your room at the little palace, genya talking about her day and (rightfully) complaining about the queen, with a tea cup in her hand. When she asked you about your opinion, not hearing an answer she glanced at you finding out you were asleep. She presumed you were just leaning against her as you often did, but to her surprised you were just passed out from the tiring day as a grisha in the little palace. Smiling softly she carefully helped you fully lay down on the sofa, and left you to your rest.

KAZ- you were sitting in his room trying to form the next step leading to the fall of Pekka Rollins when he felt a slight weight on his shoulder. He immediately tensed up frozen in place. He tried calling your name hoping you'd wake up but unfortunately for him you didn't. He wanted to shrag you off, and he would've if you didn't know each other for a very long time. It felt weird, anxious but also a little comforting. He stayed like this still as a statue for a few minutes before slightly tapping you on your arm to wake you up.

INEJ- you were both sitting outside in silence wanting some peace and quiet from the loud tavern when inej felt your head slip down to her shoulder. She smiled softly, studying your face; feeling the urge to let you stay like this forever. Unfortunately it was getting late and unsafe outside, so she had to wake you up, but she really enjoyed those few minutes of you together.

JESPER- you were sitting at a table in the barrel watching people drink, talk and play, when you felt the tiredness creeping up on you "don't you dare fall asleep and leave me alone in this boredome" said Jesper while holding some sort of drink on his hand. "I'm not asleep" you perked up at the accusation, taking a sip of your own drink you left on the table. As the time passed on, you stopped answering Jesper's questions and observations. "Not asleep my ass" he snored, finishing the rest of his drink and helping sleepy you stand up and go to your room.

NINA- you were sitting on soft cushions near a window watching the snow. You rented a small room and decided to lit a fire and warm up a bit. You were both quiet, enjoying the outside view and the inside warmth, wrapped together in furrs. You slowly fell asleep, head tilted back when Nina noticed you're not awake, laughing quietly she guided your head on her shoulder, tightening the furr around you two.

WYLAN- wylan was mixing some stuff together when you called him to take a break and join you on the sofa, petting the empty space besides you. After a few protests he finally agreed and sat down next to you, your arm wrapping around him. Drawing him closer you kisses his head, nuzzling your nose to his wild hair, feeling sleepy. He was telling you about what he was making when you slowly started shifting away to sleep. When he noticed he smiled trying not to move his head too much as your head was on his. He was just sitting there squished between you and the sofa, and eventually fell asleep too.

MATTHIAS- he was sitting all grumpy away from the rest of the crows when you approached him. "Mind if I join you" you asked not waiting for his answer and sat down besides him. "Why do you ask if you're going to do that anyway" he scowled. You shrugging your shoulders leaning against him and observing everything that was going on in front of you. Announcing you were tired, you tilted your head to rest on his shoulder, instantly falling asleep. Looking at you Matthias sighed annoyingly, but let you stay mumbling something in Fjerdan.

[karespocketboyfriends]

kareee! your event is exciting, I luv your events 💕💕

I was thinking maybe for the drabble: zayne + reader seeing/holding each other after a bit of time apart?

Cammie, my dear, my adorable little cupcake, happy birthday ❤️

——————

For the fifth morning in a row, you woke up alone. This isn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence, given your handsome, sweet-toothed boyfriend has dedicated his life to the medical field, but there’s something different about waking up alone knowing he’s at work, and waking up alone knowing he’s out of town.

Warmed by the sun peeking in through a gap in the curtains, you stretch your body out like a cat before rolling out of and making the bed. Zayne’s bed, really, though the doctor wouldn’t deny that it’s also now yours.

Still dressed in your cozy nightwear, hair still messy from sleep, you make your way to the kitchen. You were expecting to find the space the way you left it last night: freshly clean and organized. And, for the most part, it is still clean and organized.

But the table was very much different than how you left it. The wooden surface is now covered in a white table cloth, a crystal vase with fully bloomed red and pink roses sitting as the centrepiece, accompanied by small, pink candles that infused the air with a strawberry scent. It isn’t just the candles - every dish that lay waiting on the table features strawberries, too. Strawberry and cream pancakes, strawberry sandwiches, strawberry banana bread, the cups were even filled with that looked like strawberry smoothies.

But the grandest, most precious feature of all, was the man who was setting a bowl of freshly washed strawberries with the rest of the assortment.

“Zayne!” You exclaim, rushing around the table to get to him.

Zayne chuckles and opens his arms just in time to catch your figure hurling towards him. “You’re right on time. It looks like I won’t have to worry about the food getting cold.”

You bury your face in the side of his neck and breathe him in. His shoulders feel strong beneath your arms that rest across them in your embrace, his heart beats against his chest so heavily you can feel it.

“When did you get back?” You ask, easing back just enough to look at him. Your arms relax from where they fell across his shoulders, one hand sliding up his neck to run through his dark hair.

“Early this morning. I got lucky that you were actually asleep, otherwise my plans wouldn’t have ended up being a surprise for you.” Placing a hand on the small of your back, Zayne brings you as close as you can possibly be. The early morning rays of sun make the golden frames of his glasses shine. “Happy birthday, my dear.”

Heat attacks your cheeks, heart growing so bashful you have to avert your gaze, lest you explode. Zayne’s gentle chuckle fills your ears as his lips brush over your temple. Then, they dip down and press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Zayne!” You squeak jumping at the display of affection. “I-! You can’t-! It’s too early!”

“Too early?” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing subtly in a gentle way that’s just so ‘Zayne.’ “I see, there’s a time limit on when one can indulge in their partner after some time apart. Shall I request my welcome home greeting later?”

Your arms slip around his waist and squeeze, cheek falling to rest on his chest as you stubbornly mumble. “Now you’re being dramatic…”

Zayne hums and wraps his arms around you once more, chin dropping to the top of your head. “I’m home, now. For the rest of the day, I am yours to cuddle as you please.”

[speirslore]

when you get hurt hcs [officers + roe]

a/n: requested <3 usually in my writing the reader is implied to be a part of easy company in a vague way bc i know ppl have different preferences but some of these include getting shot (not graphic or anything) so ig that implies they're on the front lines

lmk if you would like to be on my taglist! @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck

[dick winters]

you hit your head prettyyyy hard, and you're out of it, probably definitely concussed

it happens right in front of dick and he tries really hard to keep calm

he wants to be strong and level-headed for you

shows more obvious affection then any of the men have ever seen from him; pets your hair, holds your hand, is always by your side

he immediately gets you a medic and transported to an aid station and doesn’t want to leave you

but when dick's back with easy, he gets uncharacteristically easily angry and frustrated...

he gets quiet and withdrawn and a little snappy with zelensky and nix... and they both immediately know why

whenever he can go see you, he's there.. he even gets behind on all his paperwork (but nix offers to help)

which dick is hesitant to accept for many reasons, he feels guilty, like he's not focusing on his duties but lew is always good at keeping the reports concise lol

very fragile with you, he isn't underestimating you but he just absolutely does not want to push you or hurt you

is a stickler for the rules, follows absolutely everything the doctor says

he has to wake you up every few hours and you keep insisting it’s unnecessary and dick is absolutely not having it

you try to get up and move around and all dick has to hear is the sheets moving and he just gives you that stare, a little bit like a disappointed mom, and you're right back laying down

he’s way more clingy than usual, wants to be by your side, subtly holding your hand

in that moment it definitely hits him how much he loves and cares about you... he hasn't really had time or space to process those feelings until now <3

[lewis nixon]

it does not look good at first

it's really scary for everyone there, you loose a lot of blood and lose consciousness

lew is not there when you're first shot in the leg and everyone is very glad that he didn't have to see it

but when he finds out... oh he is not keeping cool, is not pretending even a little bit to be okay

starts lashing out and snaps at the driver who's taking him to the hospital to drive faster, mad that they didn't tell him sooner, mad that you were injured, mad at the war, furious at absolutely everything

lew has to be monitored by dick not to go full self destruction mode and get incredibly drunk

he hates just sitting with the constant uncomfortable feeling and reminder that you're hurting

he will not leave your side at first when you’re sleeping a lot, on a lot of medicine, and out of it

one nurse does approach him when he's the only vistor in the hospital left, "sir, the visiting hours-"

he just looks up, obviously devastated, voice cracking, "i'm can't leave. you can drag me out but i'm not going, thanks."

they back off after that

does go through a phase where he hates going once you're more conscious because he kills him to see you like that and face this feels irrational guilt he feels for not being there

because he definitely has the tendency to avoid his problems and things that hurt him

but it hurts you too and you don't fully understand

you look up at dick and harry, slightly delirious from the morphine, tearing up, "does he not want to see me anymore?"

after that they do drag lew to see you and you just straight up tell him feeling guilty is pointless and not fair to himself (or you)

and then it's right back to not leaving your side and always trying to make you laugh or smile

[ron speirs]

okay so i love the angel of the company x speirs trope

by now he's the co of easy and your relationship is a widely known secret...

he assigns you and the group of other men to a patrol... it wasn't an overly risky or bad order, a standard order from sink

but you guys make contact and you're shot in the arm

it just absolutely wrecks him

the guys feel like he's just going to go across enemy lines and find the soldier that shot you himself

the rest of the guys are furious too because everyone just absolutely loves you

for a short time, he's mad at the other soldiers on the patrol and you have to reminder him they didn't do anything wrong

but ron is really just irrationally mad at himself for not being there, for not being psychic, he's just angry he somehow didn't stop this

ron is not controlling and not possessive and he knows you can hold your own but he feels responsible for taking care of you and making sure you're safe

even if he can't quite articulate all of those feelings yet

he doesn't understand all the emotions he feels and doesn't even have time to try to understand them

he listens so attentively to the doctors, he can recite everything they've said word for word

like with chuck, he demands the absolute best from the doctors

this incident shows his more compassionate side and the guys start to see how much he really cares about you... bc they're protective of you too!

you have to comfort him and his voice breaks

and he feels weak and he feels bad that you're comforting him and not the other way around

"i'm messing everything up, doing everything wrong," he says more to himself but you frown, eyebrows furrowed and everything

"you're so hard on yourself, ron. when it's not your fault, it was routine, you didn't shoot me. then i'd be really pissed." you smile and he smiles weakly... but he's on edge for a longgg time after this

[carwood lipton]

unfortunately you and lip just cannot catch a break

your leg gets injured while he has pneumonia

it's not a major injury but a bullet ricocheted off of a wall and slightly grazed you and you need a few days of staying off of it

lip really tries to be comforting

and wants to be there for you and he is!

but it's very hard for him, he just wants you to be okay so badly, even when he himself isn't okay

trying to lecture you about staying off of your leg and asking others for help but breaking out into a coughing fit and then you're trying to help him sit up and to go get some hot water for him

and then he's back to telling you to stop and starts hoarsely calling for luz

it's a MESS

but carwood is a natural caretaker and has been one for most of his life

it makes him hover sooo badly especially because since he's sick too he doesn't have a lot of work to keep him busy

but you're not complaining honestly, it's nice to have more private time and something of a break, even if you're both miserable

you get the special privilege of an actual private back bed room with a mattress and blankets

kind of a bonding experience

you just laugh because what the fuck

it's kind of romantic, first time in a longgg time in an actual bed together

you just go back and forth talking about your future and the life you want after the war

"i don't like this wallpaper," you murmur into his chest

he laughs and that turns into coughing again and you're just rubbing his back trying not to bend your leg... domestic bliss <3

[buck compton]

buck... does not take it well

he takes it extremely hard

like his reaction to joe and bill...

you have pneumonia and the peniciln you need isn't available in bastogne

and it's even worse that he finds out you're sick only a few hours after that and that you've been sick and struggling for the past few days

maybe his reaction would've been different earlier on in the war

but now, it just feels like a destructive domino effect that's sparing no one

it's obvious after all of his friends injuries and your pneumonia that he couldn't stay on the front line... his red bleary eyes and slightly trembling hands said enough

when he gets taken off the line, you're both in an aid station together for a few hours before you're both transferred to different hospital

so his presence is silent reassurance

you want so badly to comfort him but you're so sick and he doesn't want you to, he feels so guilty leaving you

but you hoarsely tell him he needs a break and to process what happened

you're feeling slightly better this day so that makes it a little better... but not that much

both of you have been through hell

but there is a light in the tunnel... or at least you feel that way

buck isn't on the front lines anymore and you both have a chance at a life together post-war

he does not want to leave you, it has to take a lot of malarkey's coaxing him and promising to update buck

[eugene roe]

gene can't decide if having medical knowledge makes it better or worse

and if being the medic and being the one to have their hands covered in the your blood, was better than leaving it in the hands of someone else

he decides it's awful... definitely worse

the very few hours he slept, it was just dreaming of your terrified face

and he wakes with a jolt and is completely miserable

and life just goes on...

a lot of pacing and murmuring

gene closes in on himself when he's upset and stressed, so he becomes even quieter than normal

and the other guys are worried like ??? do we need to intervene and lip just stops them, "leave him alone, he'll be okay."

prays for you a lot, gripping his rosary so tightly and the photo that he has of the two of you when you were still in england

when you both felt some semblance of normalcy

he can't abandon the company to stay with you full time at the aid station to his incredible frustration and disappointment

it's just hard for him to go on like everything's fine, it shatters whatever illusion he has of fairness and hope and safety

whenever someone else gets injured or they need supplies, he'll take any excuse to ride back to the aid station to see you

and if anyone else goes, they always see you and give gene an update

winters definitely notices and tries to give him opportunities to see you

likes watching you rest and sleep (because you definitely needed it, even before you got injured) in the sweetest, non-creepy way

gene loves to just sit with you, see you with his own eyes, and know for certain that you're okay

[brandwhorestarscream]

I need the whole story of D-16 and his sparkling with Sentinal! It's such an amazing story. Take ur time tho.

Well thank you for saying so, that's so sweet! And I'm pleased to announce that I'm givin ya'll the next chapter here and now!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

They have suffered enough for one day.

Alpha Trion departs swiftly, disappearing out through the tunnel they had explored to get here, leaving the four of them in solitude. They cling to each other in the darkness, exhausted and sick and hopeless. Orion and D-16 remain wound tightly around one another, the silver mech continuing to tremble with the stress of everything bearing down on him. Orion holds him, fully with both arms, wrapped as tightly and securely around his body as they can, keeping Dee snuggled against his chassis. Dee clings to him, desperate for comfort that isn’t coming, hiding his face in the underside of Orion’s neck. His EM field throbs weakly, sluggishly, exhausted even as potent grief and fear gushes off of him and contaminates the air around them. It’s impossible to escape, and the four of them stew helplessly in the aura of misery. They’re all contributing toward it, but none more than D-16. It’s just too much.

Alpha Trion finds them just where he left them, huddled together like frightened nestlings that flinch at every little sound, and their optics are full of fear when he returns, til they notice it’s him. Then the fear abates, replaced with longing and misery that he can’t soothe.

The fuel their guardian has brought is in liquid form, to their surprise. The energon they stripped from the mines was all solid, and even after processing became squishy and malleable, like thick petroleum jelly. Capable of holding it’s own form without assistance, but easy giving out under the force of pinching fingers. This wasn’t at all like that: it sloshed and splashed within the old cube, and was steaming, little ribbons of heat curling off of it and into the air.

“You first, Dee,” no one protests Orion’s insistence, propping his friend up. Dee has by now gone limp, optics faded and empty as he struggled to process everything, and the horrible, gnawing pressure of the choice he faced. Orion shakes him gently, but it’s like his friend can’t even hear him, optics listless as they stare deeply into space, as if he’s watching something a thousand miles away. Orion jostles him again. “Dee…? H-Hey, come on, you’re scaring me-!”

“Do not panic, little one.” Alpha Trion reaches out and gently presses the tip of one finger to D-16’s forehelm, and the silver mech jumps. His optics snap up to the old Prime, trance broken, and his expression remains blank for only a second before it crumbles back into devastation. He sobs, and turns away to curl further into Orion, shoulders shaking again. Orion rubs his back, laying his chin atop the other’s helm as his own optics sting.

“Dee…” Orion sniffles. “I-It’s time to eat.”

They shuffle around for a moment, and finally, Dee’s tearstained face peeks out, the epitome of misery. Oily tears dried and caked to his face, vents still shuddering and hiccuping and leaking little bits of backed up cleanser. His mouth is downturned, lips still trembling, optics narrow and sore from so much crying. He hiccups, clinging tightly to Orion. He swallows, and rasps out his first words since Onyx Prime had left them. “I…” his voice cracks grandly, tone hoarse and stuffy. His systems are clogged. “I’b not- h-hungry…”

“C’mon, you’ve gotta be hungry,” B-127 speaks up, wringing his servos worriedly. The journey here had taken them multiple days, and D-16 had been violently ill the entire time. He had to be running on empty! There was hardly anything left in his tanks to throw up, and- “Ohhh, I get it. You’re scared you’re gonna vom again, ri-”

“Don’t-!” Dee covers his mouth, optics squeezed shut. “P-Please, don’t…”

Onyx Prime’s blessing had chased away the worst of his symptoms, for now, but it wouldn’t last forever. For the first time in several decacycles, his digestive tanks weren’t sloshing and roiling like a stormy sea, but they were still incredibly tender and sore from all the abuse they’d endured. He was sure, if he tried to refuel, it would just come back up. His fuel gauge was at a measly 7%: any further and he’d probably drop into stasis lock, but the idea of food was downright revolting.

“You must try, little one,” Alpha Trion implores him. “You will not recover if you are starving.”

Dee’s systems make a high pitched keening noise, and Orion gently rubs his arm. “...please, Dee?” he asks, voice soft and hesitant. “Just try? For me?” He picks up the cube in one shaking servo, raising it to the silver mech’s face. Dee’s expression remains pinched and uncomfortable, and Orion gives him a gentle squeeze. “C’mon… one sip?”

Nearby, Elita huffs when D-16 still shakes his helm. “Well, I’m not refueling until you do.”

That gets his attention. He turns toward her, confusion painted on his face. “What are you-”

“If you’re going on a hunger strike then I am too,” she folds her arms in challenge, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a tight pout. “If you’re gonna try to starve yourself to death then I’m gonna starve to death, too.”

“Oh oh, oh! Me too, me too!” Bee eagerly waves one arm in the air. “I’ll go on strike too, I’ve always wanted to do a strike!”

D-16 glances back and forth between them, looking panicked. “Wait, no-”

“Me three,” Orion actually manages to smile. It’s small and frail, but it’s there, and Dee stares at him incredulously. “I’m not eating til you do, either.”

“Wha- bu-” at a loss, he glances at Alpha Trion for help, who looks just as bemused as he feels. “You guys, you c-can’t just-”

“Too bad,” Elita glowers at him challengingly. “You don’t want us to starve? Then you don’t get to starve, either. Fair’s fair.”

“Just ooone sip, Dee?” Orion looks hopefully, still holding up the cube of fuel. It’s begun to cool now, no longer steaming, but still every bit as thin and fluid as before. Orion gently sloshes the cube back and forth. “See, look, it’ll go down easy, you won’t even have to chew.”

Helpless against all three of them and unable to bear the idea of none of them eating because of him–especially after Orion carried him most of the way here and was probably painfully hungry as well–he nervously concedes. “...ok,” he swallows unsurely, eyeing the fuel with trepidation. Orion is gentle as he brings it forward to press against his mouth, and Dee tries to steal himself. The first sip flows into his mouth and he coughs, clamping one servo over his mouth and forcing it down. His tanks cramp painfully and he hunches over, but… nothing comes of it. He takes several slow breaths, then turns back to Orion, nodding.

His best friend smiles wider, and presses a gentle, chaste kiss to his temple before raising the cube once more. “Couple more, then we’ll have some, ok?”

Elita refuses to take the cube til D-16’s drained about 20% of the contents, at last dropping his face into Orion’s shoulder and telling them he really will get sick if he has any more. She gently takes it from him, refusing to let B-127 hold it, not trusting him not to drop or spill any of the precious fuel. “Open,” she commands, and he does as she says, letting her press it against his mouth and tilting it steeply. “Now chug.”

When he’s done gulping down his portion, she hands it back to Orion, who tries to protest. “No, uh, you go ahead-”

“Shut up,” she barks the order. “Drink, now!”

“Yes ma’m!” he squeaks, optics wide like a dipole-doe in headlights, drinking down the lukewarm energon.

Once they’ve all eaten–Alpha Trion included–the old Prime sits cross legged before them. There’s still more to talk about, like their missing cogs and the matter of D-16’s health. He tells them, in no uncertain terms, that so long as he hosts the sparkling within him? He’ll have to cater to its needs if he wants to stop being so sick. “I understand that this subject is very, uncomfortable for you,” he says, regretful. “But we cannot afford to delay. Your child will continue to sicken you until its material requirements are satisfied.”

D-16 seemed to shrink, looking queasy at the idea. “I- I can’t! Not with him, not after-” he gags and covers his mouth.

“No, not with him, little one. You have suffered his touch enough,” Alpha Trion shakes his head. “You shouldn’t engage with such things unless you are certain. But, in order for your sparkling to live and for your own health to improve, you must intake the proper donations, regularly.”

Dee huddles close to Orion, audials ringing and only half-listening as the much older mech explains. If they were still home in Iacon, it would’ve been easy. Ratchet could administer it artificially, he could be numb and not have to feel it. He could have his choice of donor; he knows plenty of his batchmates and fellow cogless would be more than willing to donate. He could have Orion next to him to hold his hand and distract him so he didn’t have to think about it.

Here, though…

Here, his options are limited. They don’t have the luxury of medical tools or numbing medication. No choice but to do it the old fashioned way, and the thought makes his tanks turn. He’s only just met B-127. He likes the little chatterbox well enough, but he could never be intimate with him. Ever. Elita, he knows her better, but their relationship had always been rather strictly professional, and the idea of her domineering and straightforward personality being directed at him while they… oh, Primus, no. The thought makes him want to cry. He… he never wants to interface again, honestly. Just considering it makes him feel dirty, makes shame burn at his cheeks and neck.

Alpha Trion made it clear that he would if asked, but D-16 can’t imagine asking anything more of the mystical mech that’s looking after them. Besides, they just met, and he’s so much bigger than them… about the same size as Sentinel. He shudders just thinking about it.

That leaves only Orion, but… he can’t ask him. He- He suffered the same thing that Dee did, Sentinel had violated him too, how could he be so selfish and ask him to engage in the most disgusting and horrible thing of all? How could he ask his friend to touch the same place Sentinel had, how could he ask him to help grow that monster’s spawn? Orion didn’t deserve to have such a choice foisted on him-

“...Dee,” Orion’s voice drifts into his audials like a soothing balm, so warm and gentle. “Hey, um… c-can I- I mean, I wouldn’t mind if-”

“What?!”

Orion makes a sound that almost passes as a humorless laugh. His weight shifts beneath D-16, and he snuggles him close. He hasn’t let go this whole time, keeping his carrying friend cocooned safely in his arms for several megacycles. He rocks them both back and forth for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I just... I- I know this’s gonna be… h-hard. Really hard,” he swallows and blinks rapidly, as his optics strain to fill with tears but his reserves are still empty. “B-But, we- uh-” his optics flit over to Elita and B-127. The femme takes the hint, pointedly turning away and loudly asking Bee a question. Orion lowers his lips to murmur softly in Dee’s audio receptor. “We were both there, I- I’ve already seen you and you’ve already seen me, so, it- it won’t be awkward, and I won’t tell anyone, and,” he presses his nose into D-16’s cheek, optics sliding closed. “I… w-wanna do it with you. Cuz-”

Because you’re not Sentinel. Because I trust you. Because I love you. Because I’m worried for you and this is the only way I can help you.

So many reasons, and all of the words die in his throat. Unable to speak, he cuddles closer to Dee, letting their EM fields mix and mingle. He doesn’t push, doesn’t try to force it, and instead just lets his emotions flow and ebb like the tide, lapping up against his dearest friend, hope and tenderness offering themselves warmly. To his relief, Dee heaves a sigh of relief and snuggles into him, one servo snaking around to gently interlace their fingers and squeeze him tight.

“You…” he takes a shaky invent. “Y-You really… wouldn’t mind?” Orion nods in affirmation, and Dee gives his first, weak little smile in days. It's sheer relief, realizing he won't have to suffer through it with a stranger and, instead, his best and most beloved friend. “Ok,” it comes out in a whispered rush. “Alright… y-yeah, ok… let’s- l-let’s do it.”

...

And that's a wrap on this piece! Hope you enjoyed it lol, next time prepare for schmoopy fluffy adorable healing sex between these two traumatized babies. Part 4 only comes when ya'll abuse my ask box for it, so~

[ghostf1ux]

Yeah, No, The Gotham River Was Not His Friend

Word Count: 1.4k

TW/CWs: Medical inaccuracies probably

Part 1 || Part 2 (here)

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

Steph sighs as she looks between the partially curled up, partially splayed out form of none other than Jason Todd, aka the fearsome Red Hood, and Tim. His head rests in Steph's lap, exhausted eyes half-lidded, foggy, and only slightly glowing as he watches Tim talk into his comm. It's not long before Tim is kneeling down beside Steph and checking Jason for injuries, gentle as possible. It doesn't stop the older man's face from twisting into a grimace, jaw clenching while Tim figures out everything wrong with him.

Well, physically, at least. If they got into emotional or mental territory they'd be here for a while.

“Spoiler, I need help putting his hips back in place,” Tim says, shifting to move Jason's body to lay flat on his back again. He sucks in a sharp breath but doesn't fight it when Steph helps, then unclips her cape to fashion a little makeshift pillow for him to rest his head on. He averts his gaze when Steph positions her hands just above his hips to help stabilize and keep him in place, while Tim holds his leg with one hand clasped above his ankle and the other arm hooked behind the bend of his knee.

“This is gonna hurt. You want something to hold or–?” Steph cuts herself off when she looks back to see Jason with one of his knives in his mouth, fangs flashing in the moonlight where they’re clamped around the dark handle. “Nevermind, guess that works. You want a countdown?”

Jason just waves in a vague circular shooing motion at her, which is the closest approximation to a No, just fucking get on with it he can nonverbally give.

She shrugs, nodding to Tim to go ahead. Jason sucks in a breath through his nose as Tim bends his left leg up and in, then pulls the femur away from the body while rotating his leg in a circle away from it. There's a sharp pop and a half groan, half sharp huff from Jason while his leg is straightened back out. There's a quick bend and shake before Jason lets it lay flat again after confirming it to be fully back in place.

Tim moves over to the right leg, a small wince from Jason accompanying him getting his arm and hand in position. He repeats the process just as he did before, though with distinctly less ability to avoid the shrapnel gouges. When this one pops back into place Jason lets out something akin to a gurgled growl behind his knife handle, but seems to relax a little once it's done.

“Carry him to the edge of the park, I'm almost there,” Batman orders over the comms. Steph leans over to tap Jason's cheek to get his attention, shooting him a little grin when his eyes finally find hers.

“Time to get up, Alley. B's meeting us on the street.” She and Tim help him sit up despite his strangled groan of protest, working together to gather the remains of his trashed gear. “There's gonna be a bit of a mess left behind.”

“I'll handle it. Focus on Hood,” Oracle responds easily, quiet typing filling the background as she works her technological magic.

“Alright, up you get.” Steph and Tim throw his arms over their shoulders and lift at the same time, the former wincing minutely at Jason's pained half-whine.

From there they make their way to the closest set of stairs, the only sounds being that of Jason's raspy, wheezing breaths, shuffling steps as they thread closer to their destination, distant sirens, yelling, and a car engine everyone in the city knows by heart at this point growing closer.

By the time they get to the edge of the park, Jason's shivers have been reduced to mere tremors and his attempt to help carry some of his weight is negligible at best. Steph can literally feel the way his body is slowly succumbing to the cold, the way his heartbeat is slowing, the way his breaths grow shallower and the space between them grows longer.

When the Batmobile pulls up, Tim and Steph waste no time getting Jason maneuvered into the back seat. Tim gets in first so he can continue to monitor Jason's pulse while Steph tosses his stray gear into the front seat, and then climbs into the back seat with the other two.

They're taking off again before Steph even closes the door behind her, which is fine because she's helping Tim get Jason's gear off when she's barely even fully inside. Bruce is quick to turn on the autopilot and swivel his seat around so he can help, the cowl of his costume already hanging over his back.

In the pale light of the Batmobile, it's now even easier to see how pale Jason is. His skin is white as a ghost and his lips are slightly blue, a side effect of the lack of blood rather than asphyxiation. The rest of his body tells a similar story, once all the gear is off. Even worse, he's cold as ice.

Well, not quite, obviously, but the point still stands. He's really fuckin’ cold.

Steph startles from where she's messing with the temperature controls when Jason's eyes start to drift shut, unseen to the other two with how focused they are on painstakingly removing the shrapnel.

“Alley, stay the fuck awake, you hear me? I will steal your food to make waffle abominations forever if you don't keep your eyes open,” Steph threatens pointedly, cranking up the heat and turning on the seat heaters to start dethawing him. Teal-green eyes find hers, no longer glowing in the lit car. He blinks slowly, like he's trying to process what she just said. “Yeah, you heard me. And you know what else? You'll have to hear me bitch about your favorite book forever because it sucks and my stupid Classic Lit teacher is making us read it and I hate it! I mean seriously…”

Steph starts prattling on about everything wrong with Pride and Prejudice, rattling off actual arguments and stating sources he remembers off the top of her head from her class. Quotes flutter into her mind, which she deigns to pick apart and talk about all the things wrong with them. At some point she just starts quoting her actual essay she was failing to continue writing earlier that day, because she was staring at the words for so long they were burned into her skull.

His teal-green eyes turn fully acidic green and start glowing at some point in her rant, nothing bright enough to be concerned about but certainly enough to tell that the Pit burning in his veins is helping his heart rate get up a bit higher. 

Tim figures out what she's doing about halfway to the Cave, chiming in with his own opinions and observations. Jason spends the whole time looking between the two of them incredulously and frustratedly, like he wants to debate back with them so badly but he can't because his mouth won't work the way he wants it to, and neither will his brain.

By the time the Batmobile screeches to a halt, all the shrapnel has been picked out of his skin and he's been redressed in a plain red hoodie and fluffy Wonder Woman pants. Bruce takes it upon himself to carry Jason up to the theater room, where Cass, Dick, and Damiam are waiting. The floor has been cleared and filled with blankets and pillows, the couch cushions pushed together to create one big makeshift mattress.

Tim and Steph are quick to join them once they've showered and changed. Dick welcomes them with a smile and open octopus arms, making sure everyone is nestled in comfortably before deciding on something to watch.

Bruce joins them later, as does Alfred, though the latter ends up retiring to his bedroom instead of staying out with them.

Jason is nestled comfortably(?) in the middle of everyone, where careful hands check his pulse or breathing every so often or help him drink a warm cup of tea when Alfred comes by with snacks and drinks.

Eventually, when it seems his breathing and heart rate is returning to something a little more normal, they stop annoying him so much. Despite the amount of physical contact that would usually make his skin crawl in any other scenario, he finds himself relaxing into the cocoon of family he's been shoved into.

It almost makes him forget about Steph and Tim's terrible takes on literally the best book ever.

Almost.

[sendpseuds]

[someday i'll wake up without mall goth au on my mind — today was not that day 🖤]

He tastes like cigarettes and sugar.

Candy.

Something fruity and familiar.

Like Skittles in an ashtray.

It's immediately addicting.

The moment that heavy door clicked closed behind them, Obi-Wan had the young man pinned to its cold surface, heat and electricity crackling in the air between them as those deep blue eyes went wide with eager excitement, his mouth falling open ever so slightly, surprised and delighted by their sudden reversal.

Barely half a breath passed between them before Obi-Wan had closed the scant shivering distance and captured those luscious lips with his own, swallowing the needy noise the boy poured into his mouth and silencing the last lingering doubts in his mind as the barren break room simply disappeared behind a thick hazy fog of desire.

The kiss turns wild in a matter of starving seconds, a frantic and feral fight for satisfaction, more of an eruption than an embrace. Clashing teeth and panting breaths and eager hands pulling pulling pulling at his body, his clothes, his hair and all Obi-Wan wants is more.

Soft syrupy little sounds slip from between the boy's bitten lips as Obi-Wan sucks kisses down the impossible length of his neck, lapping at his golden skin and nipping at his throat, determined to discover every gasp, every moan, every whine and whimper this beautiful menace makes.

"Fuck yes—" the younger man pants into Obi-Wan's mouth, the first words between them since that door slammed shut, every letter dripping in dizzying desire, "Are you gonna fuck me?"

A strange static crawls over Obi-Wan's skin, something between thrill and panic.

Am I?

Isn't that why he's here? Isn't that what he'd wanted?

To turn this boy around, gripping his box-dyed hair in one hand and that obscene harness in the other, teasing him until he begged, rocking into him until he screamed.

"Is that—" Obi-Wan breathes, clearing his throat when the words come out like a broken whisper, "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah," he replies without hesitation, nodding his emphatic confirmation, "I think I've been pretty clear about that."

He has.

He makes it even clearer when he pulls Obi-Wan's mouth back to his, nipping at his lips and slipping his tongue past his teeth, rolling his hips forward with a deep groan as he grinds the undeniable evidence of his growing desire into Obi-Wan's thigh, the sheer heat of his body working to melt the older man's hesitance.

"Here?" Obi-Wan asks into the quickly deteriorating kiss, caught between convincing himself it would be too much to fuck him right here and knowing without a doubt he would do it if the boy begged sweet enough.

"Yes," the young man answers with a moan, diving in for another heated kiss before pulling back with a shake of his head, quickly changing his answer, "No." But before Obi-Wan can feel either disappointment or relief, he continues, laying out his plan in only two words, "Bathroom. Lock."

The words haven't even fully processed before Obi-Wan is being dragged down a short hallway and through another door, helpless to do anything but follow his eager guide— mind left out in the mall along with his self-control.

A single exposed florescent tube blinks to life from the half-tiled drop ceiling as they stumble through the door, flooding the small space with horrible flickering light both harsh and haunting, blinding highlights and stark shadows but Obi-Wan barely notices any of it — the mold-stained grout, the smell of stale urinal cakes and sanitizer, the way the bulb buzzes so loudly above them his molars ache — none of it registers when every bit of his attention is focused on the mouth that returns to his and the way that little lip ring feels when it clinks against his teeth and Obi-Wan thinks he would be happy just to kiss this boy until his lips bleed.

The younger man, however, has other plans — tearing at the zipper on his vest, tugging his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, rolling their hips together in a frantic bid for friction — it's not until those desperate searching hands are fumbling at his belt, the mouth pressed to his grumbling in frustration, that Obi-Wan manages to find the smallest grip on reality.

"Supplies?" He asks breathlessly, unsure if he's looking for an excuse to stop or a sign to keep going, gripping the boy by the hips and holding him back, only as far as he can stand, "We need—"

"Got 'em!"

Of course, he does.

A few more hungry kisses and the young man takes a step back — the first time they've stopped touching since Obi-Wan grabbed his wrist — digging frantically through his pockets with all the excited grace of a horny high schooler.

He's twenty, Obi-Wan reminds himself a bit weakly, still unsure if twenty is actually old enough, but when the young man tosses several condoms and an entire bottle of lube labeled Fuck Sauce next to the paint-chipped and hard-water-stained sink, Obi-Wan finds himself worrying about more than just the year on this man's driver's license.

"You've done this before—"

It's not a question, exactly, but he finds himself needing an answer nonetheless.

"Fucked a hot dad in the bathroom on my lunch break?" the younger man asks, kiss-bitten lips drawn in a wide teasing smile, leaning back against the small sink vanity, his long limbs splayed almost awkwardly before him, "No, actually, this is a first for me."

A greedy piece of Obi-Wan preens at that — the knowledge that this boy doesn't just drag every pathetic middle-aged divorcee into his hypnotic web — that he hadn't just been looking for a quick fuck, but that some piece of him may have been looking for Obi-Wan.

"Or were you asking if I'm a fucking virgin?"

His arms are folded over his chest, scarred eyebrow raised accusingly, lips pulled down at the corners in an annoyed frown.

If looks could kill, Obi-Wan thinks he may already be dead.

But it turns out, this boy isn't finished torturing him yet.

"Were you hoping I'd say Yes?" the young man purrs, a dangerous smirk slanting his lips as he hooks a thumb into the waistband of his already dangerously low jeans and drags them down another inch, exposing enough skin Obi-Wan is fairly certain he's not wearing anything underneath, "I bet you were."

There is an emphatic protest on the tip of his tongue, but when the young man pushes off the counter and takes a step forward, his head cocked innocently to one side, Obi-Wan can't seem to find the words.

"You would love to be the first inside me, wouldn't you?"

Another step closer.

"The first to take me."

He flutters his pretty eyelashes.

"To corrupt me."

Only inches left between them.

"You would love that."

So close the air tastes like candy and nicotine.

"Wouldn't you— Daddy?"

Obi-Wan does not have a daddy kink.

At least, Obi-Wan doesn't think he has a daddy kink.

It's not something that's ever really interested him before but the way this boy flashes a wicked smile every time he says it, his eyes burning with desire. Crazed and devious and daring him to take control and lose it at the same time—

Yeah. That, Obi-Wan is definitely into.

He's also into the way the young man whimpers when Obi-Wan takes that sharp jaw in his hand and growls into his open mouth.

"You are such a fucking brat."

[one][two][three][four]

[Anakin sketch]

[lyracarvahall]

Heartbeat Sync Part 7

Part 6 Here

Pieces of the Puzzle

                Y/N eyes Mingi who was standing awkwardly in the corner, fidgeting to himself. She squeezed Hongjoong’s hand and slowly nodded. Hongjoong kissed her forehead and scooted over to give them some space. Her anxiety started to rise and Mingi quickly stomped over and pulled her into his embrace before she could fully panic. His large hand held the back of her head and suddenly the taste of chocolate coated her tongue. A pain rose from her hip and up her left side. Mingi let out a shuddering sigh and wrapped a second arm around her middle. He was so firm and yet also held her like she was a delicate flower. His cheek grazed against hers and she felt his tears swipe against her cheek.

“I am so glad we found you.” He stuttered in his deep timbre.

Mingi leaned back and held her face in both of his hands. “Can I kiss you or is that too much?” He quickly looked at Hongjoong. “Is that too much hyung? I don’t want to push…”

Y/N felt Mingi’s anxiety rising and did the only thing she could in that moment. She kissed him to shut him up. His plump lips danced against hers and he leaned forward, pushing her against the back of the sofa as he still remained knelt on the floor. He grunted as they got swept away in this new feeling. She combed her fingers through his dark hair, tickling her fingers through his buzzed undercut.

A shout burst from the open door, “Some of us are WAITING out here Mingus!”

Mingi backed away quickly, a deep blush raising from his cheeks. “I’m sorry! I…”

Y/N giggled at this giant man looking so bashful. “Mingi it’s okay! I started it. If anyone should be sorry here, it is me.”

Mingi nodded and awkwardly rose, leaning down to kiss her cheek once more before finding a seat in one of the makeup chairs nearby. Wooyoung burst into the room next, slamming the door before anyone else could enter. Then the yapping began.

“Hi! I’m Wooyoung! This is so cool! Could you imagine if you end up with all of us? It could be a giant cuddle party! Or sexy party! Either way all of the parties. SEXY CUDDLE PARTY! By the way you are super pretty! I love your hair! I…”

Suddenly Y/N burst out laughing at Wooyoung’s antics. All her tension seemed to wash away and Wooyoung paused and looked at her with a warm smile. He then combed his fingers through his shoulder-length hair and made his way towards the sofa and her. Kneeling down to look her in the eye, she suddenly smelled freshly baked bread. His eyes widened and he let out a huge cackle. Tackling her in a tight hug, she felt a warmth arise from her right ankle. Wooyoung began to cover her face in kisses and nuzzled his nose against her neck, pausing to breathe her in.

“You feel so good. So right, Y/N. I wish I could feel more of you right now. I will take it slow, but when you are ready…I will let you feel in every inch of your body the way you deserve to be.” With a gentle nibble to her earlobe, he left her there laying on the sofa, flushed by his words and the influx of emotions from all of her soulmates in the room. The lust and fondness was thick in the air.

Wooyoung quickly cleared his throat. “Ahem….right. Sorry. I will just be….over here. NEXT!”

The next to burst through the door was San, having been shoved in by Yeosang. “Next up Loverboy.”

San looked flustered and exposed. Y/N was starting to get into the groove of things now and though she was feeling more and more emotions, she was trying not to be overwhelmed. Hongjoong could feel her anxiety and asked her, “Are you okay, jagiya? Is it too much?”

“I am okay. I think I just….need a little while? Let the new emotions slow down a little bit before we try this again? I’m sorry San. I just need a minute.”

San smiled his wide grin with his eyes almost closing. “It is okay sweetheart. Take all of the time that you need. I will gather everyone to stand on the other side of the room. Eden apparently has something to tell us.”

San left the room to bring everyone else in. Yeosang followed by Jongho, Yunho, and lastly Seonghwa. Jongho crossed the room and sat next to Y/N, placing his hand over hers.

“I am sorry.” He spoke quietly. “I shouldn’t have taken my issue out on you, Y/N. It wasn’t your fault. I hope that you can forgive me some day.”

Y/N gripped his strong hand in both of hers. “Nothing to forgive. I understand Jongho. This is a lot for all of us.”

“Are you alright. I will make them all get lost if you need me to. They know I can kick their ass…”

Y/N giggled a bit at his defense of her. “No no no it’s okay. Hongjoong is right. We need to do this so we know where to go from here.”

Jongho lifted her hands and covered them in kisses. Then Eden walked through the dressing room door.

“Sorry to interrupt the love fest but I have an announcement. More….WE have an announcement to make.” Eden eyed Y/N slyly. All of the ATEEZ members looked confused between the two of them.

Y/N cleared her throat and announced, “I am producing your next album.”

The room erupted in cheers. Seonghwa politely clapped but again she could see a bit of sadness in his eyes. When he caught her looking towards her, he looked away. This definitely needed to be addressed later.

“We can continue to celebrate later. The guys have a post-concert greeting to get to and then we need to get travelling. Y/N, what are your plans?”

Y/N realized she had not even thought about that. She has a house she owns. Hell, Lexi was currently at the hotel. She hadn’t thought about the implications of just picking up and moving around with these men she was growing so fond for. She would need to figure this out and soon. Thankfully her work was flexible and she didn’t have any pets or kids. There were still financial ties. Also her family. Though she had cut them off, they would definitely hear about this now and judge her. She would hear it now. Her mom calling her a whore for being with more than one man. Her sister saying she didn’t deserve these beautiful men….

Her soulmates suddenly swarmed around her and sat near her on the couch. Wooyoung joined Jongho on the left and Hongjoong sat to her right with Mingi next to him.

Hongjoong rubbed her back. “Are you okay, my phoenix? What can I do to help?”

“I have a house…I have a judgy family…Lexi is at the hotel…It is a lot to juggle in my brain right now.”

Hongjoong sighed with understanding. “I think we need to have a meeting at the hotel, including Lexi. Make a new game plan. We have a set schedule. We just need to figure out how to make yours fit ours. We can do it as a team.”

The rest of the men nodded in agreement. With that settled, Y/N felt calm and her men relaxed their posture instantly.

“That is so freaky how you guys do that.” Eden said as he shook his head.

“Do what?” Mingi questioned.

“Feel all of your feelings and stuff. Anyways we gotta get this show on the road. Y/N, if you wanna tag along we gotta dress you as staff for now. The guys will probably announce you later. Sound fair?”

Y/N looked at the men in the room and they seemed to agree with Eden’s assessment.

Hongjoong tipped his head towards a side closet. “There are staff uniforms in there. You already have an all access pass. We’ve got this baby.”

Eden nodded and said, “I have to go for now as I have my OWN schedule to keep, but we will stay in touch and I will give you all of the studio and recording info and any deadlines we acquire. Toodles!” With that Eden went out of the door with a twiddling wave.

Y/N quickly stood and opened the small closet with a couple of black shirts that said OFFICIAL ATEEZ STAFF on them. She realized all of the men were still in the room. As she slid off her denim jacket once again, her wings were once again visible as well as the mark on her hand. As she lifted her arms into the staff shirt, her tank top raised and Mingi’s mark on her side peeked through for just a moment. Mingi let out a soft gasp from the sofa.

“I guess you guys should get going. I will trail behind you to be safe.”

The guys got up and began filing out of the room. The confirmed soulmates each snuck a peck on the lips before walking out of the door. Mingi snuck in a pat on Y/N’s butt as well. Y/N chuckled darkly and returned the favor. Mingi winked as he held the door open for her.

“Let’s go baby.”

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