#i feel like it only makes sense when i use brushes

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. you should call into work if that ain’t too much to ask, i could pour you up a drink and we could burn somethin’.

03, CHAPTER THREE. COME THROUGH.

ju speaks. late chapter again lol and this election fucked me uuup but thank God for writing as a distraction. you can expect another part between now and monday mayyybe… i have some free time. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. same old + sexual innuendos (we’re very familiar with my edging game).

present day, may 2025.

paige: yo 6:23pm

wyd?

nailea text me back bro 6:29pm

nailea: hmmm

busy

paige: busy my ass

nailea disliked a message

nailea: i’ve been at work all day. some of us don’t get to just play basketball, madison 😓

paige: ohhh is that right?

i’ll have you know i work hard af ma

nailea: hard enough for a reward?

paige loved a message

paige: bring that ass over here nai

nailea: i’ve got emails to finish

paige: they’ll be there tomorrow

i’m here right now. waitin on you actually

nailea: maybe i have been thinking ab it 6:32pm

paige: mhm?

well you ain’t gotta think no more let’s just do

nailea laughed at a message

nailea: you’re really ridiculous

paige: come over and tell me that to my face

nailea: depends on what you got there

a girl needs incentives

read 6:35pm

paige: i got plenty

few drinks, maybe roll up too. thought that might get you

nailea: it’s a start

send the address, i’ll come through when i’m done

paige loved a message

i sink back into the couch, letting my head rest against the arm, my feet comfortably draped across paige’s lap. the last few days, i tried to keep myself busy, focus on work, ignore the way my phone would vibrate and my thoughts would jump straight to her. the same old game. she’d sent a few texts, nothing too serious, just little things to test the waters i guess, and when she called yesterday, talking about how much she missed me, i could already tell she was pulling me back in, trying to see if that thread between us would hold.

paige kept her word, though—i can give her that. i said i’d answer, and she made sure i’d have a reason to. she knew exactly what to say, and it’s a shame that she always does, really. it’s messed up, but it works. i can’t say i haven’t missed this, either. the way she can look at me and make me forget everything i swore i’d remember, every reason i should’ve walked away.

and now, here we are, the sun setting behind her window and casting everything, even her, in some warm, orange glow that only makes her look all the more attractive. it’s like the universe is playing along, trying to romanticize something i know i should be more careful with. there’s an old celtics game playing on the tv, but neither of us is really paying attention to it. i watch her more than the screen, notice the way her fingers brush absentmindedly over my leg, the way she insists that she should be the one to hold the joint to my lips.

paige leans back, and her hand has inched from my ankle to a casual spot on my bare thigh. we’re both too deep in drinks and hits to make sense of it, but i’m not sure i would’ve said anything even if i was sober. she’s wearing one of her uconn tees, which i guess you could call old now, the shirt hugging her arms a little tight. her hair’s falling over her shoulders, looking a little shriveled but still perfect, and every time she glances at me, she wears this smug little smirk.

“…feels like everything i knew it’d be. more work and pressure than it seems, but you know me,” paige says, her grin turning a little self-satisfied, like she’s relishing every second of her own success. we’ve been catching up—if that’s what you’d call it—for awhile now. i should probably leave soon, sober up and drive home. i’m not that far. but i don’t want to.

she drags her tongue slowly over her bottom lip, eyes hazily drifting back over to me. “what about you, huh?” she asks. “you got that insane move up. what’s that been like?”

i roll my eyes, tilting my head against the couch arm to look at her. “it’s not that insane.”

paige grins, shrugging and taking a sip of her lazy attempt at a cocktail. i’d offered to make them myself, honestly not trusting the blonde to not fuck it up, but she’d insisted, hostess duties or something.

“still sounds like a pretty big deal. you’re all professional and shit now,” she rambles, and i can’t help but chuckle at her choice of words.

i shake my head, hiking one of my legs up. “it’s not like i’m paige bueckers or anything,” i tease, a stupid, huge smile on my face. how is she able to bring out the worst and the best in me? “no one’s asking me to sign their shoes after a meeting.”

she laughs, eyes half-lidded and glassy, gaze intimidatingly lingering on me just a little too long. “bet you got your own version of that, though. people hangin’ on your every word, just tryna get a second of your time. don’t lie.”

i shrug, eyes shooting away from her. i don’t get how she does it. “i mean, it’s been good,” i admit. “long hours, but it’s nice to finally get involved the way i always wanted to, y’know?”

her hand shifts a little on my thigh, just enough to remind me it’s there, and i glance down. “coulda called that years ago,” she murmurs, barely louder than a whisper. then, it’s silent for a moment. just long enough for me to think of something else to ask her before she beats me to it. “you happy?”

i swallow, suddenly feeling a little hot in the face. “i am,” i reply after a pause, furrowing my eyebrows with a nod, almost like i’m trying to convince myself of it. “the dream, right?” i let out a breathy laugh, and paige smiles.

it’s silly to think that the both of us could recall that conversation like it was yesterday. but this wasn’t the dream. not the one we had when we were kids. just our own fucked up, adult version of it. and somehow, someway, we’re still here. somehow, someway, we still can’t let it go.

“and the people? they treat you right?” she sounds like she really cares, but is still trying not to press too hard.

“everyone’s good. most of them, anyway.” she can probably see through every word i say. pick up on the way i describe everything as good. i hesitate, looking back up at her. “never thought i’d be this close with a pro team after graduating, that’s for sure.”

“bro, ‘kea really don’t play ‘bout you,” paige laughs, but she’s serious. rickea’s one of the first people i got close with during my internship, contrary to belief. i was barely around the team then, too. “and maya’s been talking all kinds of good about you since cam’s party.”

i can feel my face flush, and i shift to sit up next to her, suddenly acutely aware of how close i am to paige, how tangled up i’ve let myself become. the mention of her name has clearly been a sore subject. i’m not sure why i feel so guilty, paige was mine first, but my mind flashes to her anyway, and then to paige, who’s probably hearing everything maya’s been saying about me, while i’m here, in the middle of all of it.

i don’t wanna ask what she’s been saying, and i surely don’t wanna press further into how deep paige and maya might be. ignorance is bliss, right? but shouldn’t it be my business? is paige still my business?

instead, i force a shrug. “i mean, it’s not like we’re on the same level,” i say, clearly selling myself a little short. maya’s been here longer, knows what she’s doing better than i do. credit never hurt.

paige doesn’t say anything. she inches just a little bit closer, and the sound of a sold out stadium of cheers from tatum’s three pointer is suddenly going in one ear and out the other. a small smirk tugs at her lips, and she tilts her head, eyes not sure what to focus on as she rubs up and down on my thigh, hand inching a little higher everytime. “i agree.”

i squint at her. “you do?” but it’s less of a question. my eyes flick to her lips, and i know she catches it because her smile widens, just a little.

“mhm,” she murmurs, her fingers twisting in, gripping my thigh until i’m squeezing my legs together. there’s a moment of silence, like she’s giving me a moment to breathe, to prepare, and she’s not done. “nobody’s fuckin’ with you, baby. believe that.”

i can feel my defenses slipping—not that they were ever really there anyway—as she presses closer, and i feel a warmth spreading through me, one that has nothing to do with the la heat. “what are we even doing, p?” i ask, and i don’t know where it came from. no part of me wanted to start an argument, or worse, hear the truth. i can’t look away.

she shifts, her expression softening as she glances down, then up again. she doesn’t know the answer either. “i dunno. what we always do.” she leans back a little, resting her head on the couch right near my chest, so close that her breath brushes against me with each exhale.

i tilt my head down, just enough to meet her blue hues, and the words come out before i even realize i’m saying them. “i’m supposed to be over this. over you.”

the second they’re out, i wish i could take them back. i didn’t wanna ruin the moment. the way her face changes, her jaw tightening and a flicker of something unreadable flashing in her eyes, tells me i’ve hit a nerve. a silence falls between us, an uncomfortable one if i’m honest, stretching longer than i mentally prepared myself for.

paige screws her eyes shut, letting out a low, frustrated breath as she sits up, running a hand over her face like she’s trying to gather herself. the loss of her touch makes me feel cold. “fuck, nai.”

i push myself up too, eyebrows are furrowed as i try to make sense of it. “what? i just asked a question.”

“you always gotta make shit so fuckin’ difficult,” she mutters, shaking her head like this whole thing is somehow my fault. like i’m the one complicating it.

i frown, glancing down, and she continues. “you’re just—God, nai, it’s like you can’t just let things be. you always gotta question it, question me.” she bites down on her lip. she’s actually upset, and the horrible part about it is that it’s so like her—so unmistakably paige—that somehow, i can’t even bring myself to be mad.

i want to laugh. “why does that piss you off?” i don’t want to say it, but the words slip out anyway. “you think you’ve given me any reason not to? especially now that you’re seeing maya?”

her head crooks to look at me, and her eyes narrow with it. “what the fuck does maya have to do with this?”

i can feel the heat in my face, the way everything inside me tightens, like i’ve been holding my breath for way too long. “what do you mean, what’s she got to do with it? you’re seeing her, paige. i’m not blind.”

her jaw clenches tighter than before, and she stands up, pacing a few steps before turning back to me. “we’re not—” she pauses, clearly trying to find her words, but i’m not giving her the time.

“that’s all i need to know,” i finish, forcing a tight-lipped grin. “you don’t have to lie. i’m quite sick of those from you, actually.” i chuckle, but it’s a hollow sound, one that doesn’t even make it past my throat. i reach for my shoes that i tossed to the side when i got here, pulling them onto my feet.

paige watches, hands on her hips, and i’m fine with her quiet. “i don’t want you to leave upset with me over somethin’ we coulda talked about,” she softens, but it doesn’t change the fact that i’m already over it.

“i’m not upset with you,” i bluff, and i tie the laces of my sneakers a little tighter than necessary.

she glances down, tongue swarming her mouth, and i don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s thinking of some way to stop me. “nai—“ she starts.

“i’m not upset,” i repeat, and i hope it was more firm this time. i force myself to look her in the eyes, not a single thought behind them. neither of us is willing to be the first to back down, but i’m too exhausted to care anymore. “i just need to go,” i finish, standing up and rounding the couch.

paige’s face drops, hesitation etched across her entire face. “you can’t leave. you had too much. just… stay, aight? we’ll figure it ou—”

i grab my jacket, ignoring her weak attempts. somehow, this all feels like that night again, and i feel that familiar nausea creep up. “i’ll call a fucking uber,” i snap, throwing the door open. and before she can stop me, i’m gone, my pulse racing as i step out into the hall, leaving behind the sound of her voice.

i don’t think i’m very good at pretending i’m not upset.

[spiicii]

the og bloodline  / bloodline property (part one)

jey uso / jimmy uso / roman reigns / solo sikoa x fem!reader  word count → 4k summary →  you belong to the bloodline, in every sense of the word. and your job is to serve. tags → multiple partners, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, hair-pulling, praise kink, daddy kink, possessive behavior, hickies, dom/sub dynamics, vaginal sex, creampie, begging, light choking, crying, overstimulation

“Fuck, you feel perfect,” Jey groaned in your ear, his hands braced on either side of your head as he continued to thrust into you. You opened your legs wider to provide more access, allowing him to grind deeper, the tip of his cock now kissing your cervix. 

Jey always started with you first. He was so good at getting you open and relaxed, so much sweeter in comparison to his brothers. He was always gentle, pressing chaste kissing against your cheek as he made sure you felt good. With Jey, it wasn’t just sex. He wanted to make you happy. Wanted you to enjoy it. 

“You gon’ hurry the fuck up or what?” You heard Jimmy snap, always impatient. 

Jey threw an annoyed glance over his shoulder. “Chill out, uce. We ain’t in a rush.”

Jimmy let out a huff, pacing the length of the room in frustration. “You takin’ too fuckin’ long. She needs a real man to show her what’s up.”

Jey curled his lip, a scathing remark on his tongue, before Roman’s booming voice interrupted them. “You'll get your turn soon enough.”

You couldn’t see him, not as Jey kept you caged between his arms, impaled on his cock, but Roman's next words left no room for argument. “Enough with the bickering." 

The twins obeyed, though you could still see the annoyance on Jey’s face as he looked back down at you. 

“Just ignore him, babygirl,” he whispered, peppering your neck with soft kisses. “You know I ain’t gon’ leave you hangin’. You know I always give you whatchu want.”

He always did. 

You felt his hand reach down between the two of you, his long fingers finding that small, sensitive bud with ease. You felt sparks shoot down your spine at his touch, your legs falling open further just so you could feel more. 

He chuckled against your skin, picking up the pace of both his hips and his fingers, pushing you closer and closer to your release. 

He leaned up and brushed his lips against yours. They were soft, his kiss gentle as he continued to fuck into you, his fingers playing so perfectly with your clit that you found yourself writhing against him. 

You threw your head back and searched for Roman, your mouth open as soft moans fell from your lips. 

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, your thighs beginning to shake. “Please, can I come?” 

The Tribal Chief was the only one who could grant you permission and you were pleased when you heard him off to the side, out of your line of vision, say, “You can come, pretty girl.”

The orgasm was perfect. It always was with Jey. Pleasure unfurled from your core as you sank deeper into the mattress, your muscles relaxing as the tension released. Jey wasn’t far behind, his hips stuttering against yours. 

“Gonna fill you up, babygirl,” he gasped in your ear and that was the only warning you got before you felt him paint your walls white, warmth spreading inside of you at the feeling. He let out a contented sigh, continuing to press sweet kisses into your skin. 

“You did so good, sweetheart,” he murmured, placing another kiss against your lips. You offered him a lazy smile, your eyes still glazed over from the pleasure he’d given you. 

“Alright, alright, come on, uce. Move it.” Jimmy was already at your side, shoving at Jey in an effort to get him off of you. 

Jey scowled, but he slowly pulled out of you, your body shivering from the feeling of emptiness. 

“Will you chill out for two fucking seconds? Jesus, you act like you ain’t ever gon’ get a turn.” 

“I been waitin’ all day. And I ain’t got time to sit here while you doin’…whatever that was.”

“Man, if you don’t-”

“Enough.” Roman’s voice quickly shut them up. He was used to this. The twins almost always bickered when they fucked you together. It was just their way. They were too competitive. And a little too possessive for someone they were meant to share. 

Jey threw you a cheeky wink before finally climbing off of you, Jimmy already tangling his fingers into your hair and pulling you up to meet him. 

“Been waitin’ to fuck this pretty pussy all day, little girl,” he growled, quickly hauling you to your feet. Jey preferred to fuck you in missionary, his face close to yours so he could kiss you and watch your eyes cross in pleasure. Jimmy, on the other hand, almost always fucked you from behind, holding you out on display for the entire world to see. He enjoyed grabbing you by the hair, your tits bouncing as he pounded into you from the back. 

As he manhandled you into position, you met Roman’s gaze. He was sitting in the chair near the door, watching you with hooded eyes as Jimmy shoved you forward onto the bed, his hands gripping your hips brutally as he lined up behind you. 

The Tribal Chief was generous and usually let his cousins go first on nights like this. He wasn’t hurried, knowing that you’d be begging for his cock by the end of it anyways. You may be Bloodline property, but Roman was the chief. You belonged to him. 

Jimmy pushed into you, his cock thicker than Jey’s, causing your back to arch at the feeling. He let out a chuckle, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “So fucking tight,” he hissed, beginning to pump in and out of you. “You sure you fucked her, Jey?” 

“Fuck off, man.” 

You glanced over and saw that Jey was standing near Solo, both of them watching as Jimmy pounded into you from behind. Solo was always difficult to read, his eyes dark as he stared at you. Had it been a few months ago, you wouldn’t have known what he was thinking. Now you knew that the distinctive twinkle in his eye was lust, the barest, imperceptible tick of a jaw the only sign of his impatience. 

He’d have a turn after Jimmy. That was how things usually went. If the Bloodline was anything, it was traditional. All four men were creatures of habit, which is perhaps why it hadn’t taken long for you to learn their routine, easily falling into their lifestyle. It had been difficult at first, managing all of their varying personalities, their different schedules, but you had learned. 

Now as Jimmy continued to drill into you from the back, the tug on your hair bordering on painful, you were reminded of the very first lesson you had learned with them: you belonged to the Bloodline, in every sense of the word. They had claimed you. Owned you. Body and soul. 

Jimmy shifted the angle of his hips, and you felt stars explode across your vision as he hit your g-spot with devastating accuracy, your knees almost buckling from how good it felt.

Jimmy pulled tighter on your hair and your mouth fell open, soft moans spilling from your parted lips. You heard Jimmy chuckle, his other hand gripping your hip so hard you knew it would bruise. 

“What a good slut,” he snarled, his pace relentless as he bullied you towards your next orgasm. “You gonna come on this dick?” 

You tried to nod but his grip on your hair made it impossible. Jimmy growled, smacking your ass for good measure as he kept up the brutal pace. The roughness of his thrusts combined with his incessant abuse against your g-spot had you spiraling towards orgasm. Again. 

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, meeting the Tribal Chief’s gaze as Jimmy pulled on your hair so hard again tears sprung into your eyes. “Please, can I come?”

Roman’s eyes were dark, his face unreadable as he replied. “Come again, sweetheart.” 

You felt the tension inside you snap, Jimmy wringing the orgasm from your body with each sharp thrust of his hips. Your walls contracted around him, causing him to groan. 

“That’s right, little girl. Imma finish right here inside you. Right where I belong. Fuck!” 

Jimmy yanked at your hair so hard that you were forced to stand, his hands now wrapping around your neck as he pulled you back against his chest. His grip tightened and you felt him release inside you, a new warmth spreading between your legs as he finished. 

The world was still for a moment, your ears ringing like a jet had just flown by, until Jimmy finally relaxed, slowly loosening his fingers from the tight grip he’d kept on your neck. 

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. He slowly pulled out of you, and you whimpered, feeling some of his come leak out and trickle down your leg. Jimmy chuckled, pressing another kiss into your hair. This was the only time he was sweet like his twin, the post-orgasmic bliss making him tender and soft. You melted in his arms, allowing him to lay you softly back on the bed. He gently pushed you back against a pillow, his hands warm against your heated skin. “You always so good for me, pretty girl.” 

You leaned into his touch and Jimmy smiled, brushing a few stray hairs from your face. He soon moved away, another hand now on your face, this one much bigger. 

“You feeling good, sweetheart?” The Tribal Chief’s voice was low in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as his breath fanned across your neck. “Need your Daddy to take care of you?” 

You let out a low whine, already reaching out for him, despite the gooey feeling in your arms. You heard Roman let out a low chuckle, sitting up against the headboard and pulling you into his lap. You went easily, allowing his strong arms to wrap around you and bring you closer, your legs falling on either side of his hips to straddle him. 

You realized now that things were not following their usual order. Usually, it was Solo who went next, leaving hickies and marks across your neck and chest as he fucked into you. You turned around instinctively to look for him, your brow furrowed in worry. 

“Aw, you worried about Solo, babygirl?” Roman’s tone was patronizing, roughly grabbing your chin to look back at him. “Don’t want him to feel left out?” 

You whimpered as he kept a tight grip on your chin, his eyes blazing with intensity as he looked up at you. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, releasing your chin to cup your cheek. “Solo will get his turn. I just couldn’t wait any longer. You looked too perfect tonight. I just couldn’t help myself…” 

He ran his hands across your body, admiring the way your body reacted to his touch, your hips already rolling forward to meet the erection that was nudging against your inner thigh. He allowed you to take what you wanted, sinking onto his cock with ease, your toes curling at the full feeling inside of you. 

“Good girl,” he praised, running his hands along your sides, his face now close to yours as he pressed sweet kisses against your jaw. “You like sitting in Daddy’s lap?” 

You nodded, reaching out to touch the beautifully sculpted muscles on his chest as you began to move your hips, never taking your eyes off his. 

The Tribal Chief was smirking at you, his large hands encircling your hips. “Such an eager slut, aren’t you, sweetheart? Already been fucked twice and you still want more?” 

You rolled your hips again in answer to his question, the feeling of him inside you erasing all thoughts from your brain, bliss overtaking your body. He always made you feel like this, his cock so thick and long that it completely filled you up, hitting that perfect spot inside of you with every thrust, no matter the angle. You could have sworn your insides had morphed to fit him perfectly and he seemed to agree. 

“Like you were made for me, baby. Such a good girl for your Tribal Chief.” 

Your eyes fluttered at his praise, rolling your head back as he pressed wet kisses to your exposed neck, teeth nipping at the pulse point beneath your jaw. You felt yourself clench around him and he laughed, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass as you began to grind on top of him. 

“You gonna ride me, pretty girl?” Roman’s voice was a low growl, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “Gonna take what you want from me?” 

“Yes, please,” you moaned, grinding further down so your clit could make contact with his skin. “Please, Daddy. I want you so bad.” 

He laughed, the sound rumbling through the large expanse of his chest. “‘Atta girl,” he praised, allowing you to control the pace. “Take what you want. I’m all yours, sweetheart.” 

Yours. Yours. Yours. 

You lifted your hips and sank down again, gratified to hear the Tribal Chief make a pleased sound beneath you. You don’t often get him to ride him like this. He’s normally grabbing you and taking what he wants, almost always manhandling you to show off his incredible strength. Seeing him laid beneath you, his arm slung lazily behind his head as he watched you bounce up and down was rare. And you wanted to enjoy it. 

You planted your hands against his tattooed chest, attempting to gain more leverage to lift yourself higher, moaning at the feeling of his dick splitting you open as you straddled him. You picked up the pace, the feeling of him inside you sending tendrils of pleasure shooting across your body. 

“That’s it,” Roman encouraged, using his free hand to keep you steady above him, his touch keeping you grounded. “Don’t hurt yourself now. I’m not going anywhere, pretty girl.” 

You obeyed, slowing your movements, but only a little. You rocked up and down, throwing your head back in pleasure. He made you feel so good. You weren’t sure how it was possible to feel this good, your skin tingling all over, soft pants falling from your open mouth as you rode him. 

“Greedy thing, ain’t she, uce?” You heard Jimmy’s voice somewhere behind you, but you could hardly focus on it, tension beginning to coil inside you for a third time as you took what the Tribal Chief offered you. 

Roman chuckled at his words, watching you with amusement as you bounced on his dick in desperation, chasing your own pleasure. 

“So greedy she needs four men to take care of her, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

You nodded at his words though you were having difficulty hearing him, your own heartbeat in your ears. 

Roman growled and pulled you closer, no longer lounging against the headboard as he wrapped his arms around you. This angle pushed him deeper inside of you and you gasped, stars exploding across your vision. 

He began moving his own hips, thrusting up into you with easy strength, one of his hands tangling in your hair. He was impossibly deep now, and you felt your pussy spasm at the feeling. 

“I know I let you fuck my cousins,” he growled in your ear, your pussy clamping down on him as he thrust into you harder. “But who do you really belong to? Who owns you, pretty girl?” 

You were barely moving on your own now, Roman now fully taking control and shoving his cock deeper and deeper into you until you felt like you might pass out. Still, you somehow found the words he wanted to hear. “You, Daddy. I belong to you.” 

The grip on your hair tightened and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. He was close. And so were you. 

“Please,” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. “Please, can I come, Daddy? Please?” 

“Come, pretty girl. Come on your Daddy’s dick.” 

This orgasm was brutal, your thighs shaking in pleasure beneath Roman’s large hands. You felt yourself gush around his massive length, triggering his own finish. You heard him let out a groan, his grip on you tightening as he came. 

He pumped a few more times into you, just to ensure that you took every last drop of his seed, before finally holding you still, his breath warm against your neck. 

“Good girl,” he praised, releasing the grip on your hair and allowing your head to fall against his shoulder. “Such a good slut. You did so well.” 

Your limbs felt heavy, your body now sensitive after three orgasms so close together. You shivered as Roman pulled out of you, more come dribbling out of your leaking cunt onto the bed below. Your breath was shaky, your muscles trembling from exertion. 

“Come get her, Solo. She’s ready for you.” 

You could barely register the Tribal Chief’s words, suddenly feeling your body being lifted off of him and into someone else’s arms. Solo’s arms. You immediately relaxed, nuzzling against his neck, body limp as he carried you. 

He set you down gently against the mattress, propping you up against a pillow before climbing on top of you without much preamble. You opened your eyes to look up at him, feeling butterflies in your stomach as you met his intense gaze. His dark eyes were fiery, his jaw clenched as he looked down at you. His gold chain dangled in front you, glinting in the bedroom light.

“Solo,” you breathed, his name easy on your lips. He hardly ever spoke to you, but you had learned that he appreciated it when you spoke to him, even if he didn’t always show it. You reached up and placed a hand against his cheek, offering him a smile. 

“She looks so fucked out, uce,” you heard one of the twins say. “Think you can get her to come again? She might be done.” 

Solo’s eyes narrowed, the only sign that he was annoyed at his brother’s words. You knew that he didn’t mind fucking you like this, your body soft and pliable beneath his large hands, so easy for him to manhandle into any position he wants. When he pressed his thick cock into you, you feel your eyes roll back into your head, the feeling bordering the fine line between pain and pleasure. 

He was thicker than all of them and you usually had to take at least one of his brothers first just to prepare yourself. Even now you’d taken three dicks, and you still weren’t prepared for the burn as he stretched you out, small puffs of air escaping from your parted lips. 

Solo let out a low groan as he gave you another inch, his mouth already latching onto your neck as he suckled a bruise against your skin. He loved marking you up, more possessive than either of his brothers. He wanted the whole world to know that you were his, more than happy to mottle your neck and chest with bruises. He finally bottomed out and you let out a whimper at the feeling, the burn at being stretched by his massive girth positively delicious. But he didn’t move. You met his gaze and saw that he was looking at you, almost expectantly. He wanted to hear it. Wanted to know that you needed him. 

“Please, Solo,” you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “I need it. I need you. Please.” 

His eyes darkened and before you fully realized it, he was pulling out and ramming back in, the thrust sending sparks up your spine as his thick cock massaged your walls. You couldn’t help the embarrassing whine that escaped your throat, overstimulation prickling at your exhausted muscles. 

Solo continued to grind into you, his lips attaching themselves to your neck again, another bruise blossoming beneath his mouth. Solo had always been good at keeping you right on the edge between pain and pleasure, whether it was his massive cock splitting you open or his lips suckling a bruise beneath your jaw. It always left you head spinning, the feeling so euphoric that you almost feel like you’re floating. 

His teeth grazed the delicate skin against your windpipe, and you moaned again, wrapping your legs around his waist just to pull him closer to you. 

“Need you so bad, Solo,” you pleaded, looking back up at him in desperation. “Please, I can’t…I can’t-”

Another one of his thrusts had you whining, pleasure licking across your tired limbs like wildfire. Your nails dug into his shoulder as you pulled him close, the sound of his name leaving your lips spurring him on as he continued to drill into you.

Solo leaned down and you felt his lips ghost across the shell of your ear. “You want me, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice so low that only you could hear. You let out a gasp as he dragged across your g-spot, his thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge. 

“I want you so bad,” you whimpered, pressing small kisses against his neck. “Please, I need you. Give it to me, please.” 

You couldn’t speak anymore. Not as his hips snapped against yours, tension growing in your abdomen at the feel of him inside you. He reached around and grabbed one of your thighs, pushing it forward to allow better access to your puffy cunt. A strangled moan escaped your lips, and you felt like he was splitting you in half, your g-spot so abused by now that you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. 

You opened your mouth, trying to form the words on your lips, but you couldn’t. Your head felt empty, Solo’s cock pistoning in and out of you with such force that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk again for days. 

“Daddy,” you managed to whisper, your eyes glazing over as Solo grunted, raising up your other leg to push you into a full mating press. A strangled scream ripped from your throat and tears sprung into your eyes. You were completely helpless beneath him now, pinned to the bed beneath his massive weight, his cock feeling like it was sawing you in half. 

The tension inside you was coiling again, but you still couldn’t find the words to ask for permission, your head feeling as though it were stuffed with cotton. There was only one word you could think of. 

“Daddy.” 

You repeated his name like a mantra, your body no longer your own as Solo drilled into you, your legs next to your ears. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” 

You heard the Tribal Chief’s voice and almost wept at the sound. 

“Daddy, please.” You still couldn’t find the words, your eyes unable to focus on anything except Solo’s dark eyes, dangerously close to the edge of your fourth orgasm. 

“Use your words, princess. What do you need?” The Tribal Chief’s voice was soft, and you felt your entire body tense. 

“I can’t…” You gasped, Solo’s face blurring as tears began to fall. “Please…I can’t…” 

“Yes, you can.” Roman’s voice was firmer now, and you knew it would displease him if you came without permission. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.” 

Solo’s hand found your clit and you screamed again, though this time you used your words. “Please, can I come? Please, please, please.” 

“Come, slut.” 

Your vision went white. The pleasure was so intense that your entire body shook, walls spasming helplessly around Solo’s massive cock. You wanted to move, but you were still pinned to the bed, your feet still by your ears as Solo held you down to pound into you. You were vaguely aware of the sounds you were making, alternating between high-pitched whines and fucked-out whimpers. You might have been embarrassed if it didn’t feel so fucking good. 

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Solo grunted in your ear, finally spilling into you as he chased his own pleasure, coating your insides with his seed. 

You weren’t sure what happened after that. Your vision was blurry with tears, your throat hoarse from your screams. You felt Solo finally release you, leaning up and allowing your legs to fall back onto the bed. You felt his come trickle from your abused hole, all mixed together from the multiple loads you’d taken from his brothers and cousin. 

You felt someone’s lip on your forehead, pressing a tender kiss to your fevered brow. “Such a good girl.” he murmured, his tone soft. “You serve my bloodline so well.” 

[lee-laurent]

Together Again - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke and Tori rekindle their relationship

content: angst, fighting, fluff, lots of fluff, oc x ex!john marino

wc: 3.3k

notes: PART 9! ONE MORE!!! i think the resolution between luke and john is kinda abrupt, but i didn't want to drag it on anymore and i think john would come to his senses. so... also this ends on a conversation that's gonna be the plot of the next part!!

Showing up at Luke's door made her feel like she was in a rom-com. Would've been even better if she was soaked in rain, but... she wasn't. Instead, she was awkwardly standing outside Luke and Jack's apartment, her hand raised to knock when it flew open, revealing a very put-together looking Jack.

"Tori?"

"Jack?"

"Yeah? I live here. What're you doing here? Luke doesn't want to see you."

"Oh, um, he doesn't?"

"No, he--"

"Who're you talking to?" A groggy Luke joined his brother at the door, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his hair a mess. "Tori?"

"I was just telling her to go. I--"

"No, no. It's fine, Jack. Come on in," Luke yawned, pushing his older brother out of the way.

"Whatever. I was just leaving anyway," Jack rolled his eyes, shutting the door loudly behind him.

"Where, um, where's he headed?" Tori asked, awkwardly rubbing her arm.

"Huh? Bar, probably. Not sure."

"You're not joining him?"

"Not really in the mood. More focused on the fact that the girl I'm supposed to be on a break from is standing in my apartment."

Tori let out a shaky breath. "I know I probably should've texted first. But... I wanted to tell you in person."

Luke sighed, leaning against the wall, his eyes studying her. "Wanted to tell me what?"

The words came out sharper than he'd intended, and he sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, I just... I don't know what you could possibly have to say to me, Tori."

She stepped closer, her voice barely audible. "Can I start with 'I'm sorry?' Because I am sorry, Luke. I thought that taking a step back, would help things. But I just pushed myself back to John. Which... which isn't where I belong. I belong with you. And I-"

"Yeah? Sleeping with your ex-boyfriend really did wonders for your self-discovery, didn't it?" he bit out, his voice dripping with hurt. "Not the fact that he's your ex for a reason?"

"Luke. Let me finish. I know what I did feels unforgivable. But it really did make me realize that John isn't who I want. He's not who I need. Not even close. And honestly, he never was, even when we were together. It's you, Luke. It's been you for a while now."

Luke looked down at her, his jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides as he processed her words. Finally, he murmured, "How am I supposed to believe that? You don't know what's it like... thinking that I wasn't good enough. Like I was just a... a place-holder."

"You were never that to me, Luke," she whispered. "I didn't leave because of you. I left because I was afraid of how much I felt for you and how it was going to affect my family. And I know how backwards that sounds. I know. But I didn't know what to do with it. I thought I'd figure it out and come back to us more... solid. More sure."

"Yeah, well, I didn't need you to be 'more sure,'" he replied, his voice thick. "I just needed you."

Tori's hand reached out, her fingers brushing his bicep. "Luke... I know I messed up. And I'm not asking you to just forget it all. But I'm asking you to hear me. Because walking away from us was the biggest mistake I could've made."

"I just... it made me feel..." He trailed off, struggling with his words, his fingers nervously brushing through his hair.

Tori stepped even closer, until there were only inches between them. "I know. I'm sorry. I thought I needed clarity, but I just need you. Luke, you're where I belong and I'm sorry it took me this long to realize."

He swallowed. "And what if I don't know if I can just... let it go, Tori? I refuse to go through that again."

"Again, I'm not asking you to let it go," her hand found his, removing it from his hair before he made himself go bald. "But I'm asking you to let me try. Let me show you that I want to be here. I know I made a royal mess of things, but I'm willing to put in whatever it takes to make things right. If you'll let me."

Luke's gaze softened as he looked down at their intertwined fingeres, and his thumb began to trace gentle circles on her knuckles. "I've missed you, you know that?"

Tori's heart leapt, but she kept herself steady. "I've missed you too. So much, Luke."

His lips quirked into a faint smile as he looked at her, the distance between them closing even more. "Alright. Maybe we can try again. But this time... no second-guessing, okay?"

She nodded, tears pricking her eyes as relief washed over her. "No second-guessing," she echoed. "I'm all in this time. For real."

And as he pulled her into a tight hug, Tori let the tears finally fall. They were finally starting over--together.

~~

"Are you sure you guys are going to be okay?" Tori asked Ally for the tenth time.

"We're gonna be fine, V. Relax. Go have fun with Luke. Ri-Ri and I are gonna have a blast," her best friend laughed, placing her hands on both of Tori's shoulders. "Breathe."

Tori let out a long breath, closing her eyes as she tried to relax. It wasn't the first time she was leaving Riley with a sitter, especially Ally, but the nerves of going on a date with Luke again were getting to her. Her instincts were kicking in and she felt the need to protect herself and her son.

She took one more deep breath, giving Ally a grateful smile. "Okay... okay. I'm fine. Thanks for helping out."

"You deserve this, Tori. You'll come home, and Ri will be fast asleep."

With one final hug to Riley, who was happily playing Paw Patrol in the corner, Tori headed to meet Luke. Why was she so nervous to see the man she loved? Maybe she was worried about ruining everything again.

When she arrived at the quaint pho restaurant, she spotted Luke right away. He looked more put together than when she'd showed up at his apartment, and he broke into a smile the moment he saw her.

"You made it," he stood up to greet her.

"Almost didn't, but Ally wouldn't let me dip on you."

Luke laughed. "Remind me to thank her." His voice softened as he looked down at her. "I'm glad you're here."

They settled into their seats and Luke gestured to the menu. "This place is a hidden gem."

"It's perfect. I haven't had pho in ages. Eating out with a toddler usually only consists of Chick-fil-A and pasta. So this is a treat."

Tori was worried that the conversation would be awkward, that they'd sit there in silence between topics, but it wasn't. It was just like it was before. The conversation stayed light, talking about Riley, hockey, and funny things they'd seen recently. But as the bowls grew emptier, the conversation grew deeper, more reflective.

"Luke, y'know that I don't take any of this for granted, right? Being here, with you... it's everything to me."

Luke reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers. "I'm glad you feel that way, Tori. Because I don't want half of you. I want all of this--all of you."

"You have all of me, Luke," she whispered. "I'm here."

Luke's smile grew, his eyes warm. "Tori, I don't think I can even put into words how much I missed you... and Riley."

"Riley will be thrilled to see you. He never shuts up about you and hockey."

"Future NHL player."

"Hmm... not sure about that one."

"I'll train him. He'll be skating in no time."

Tori shook her head, failing to hide her smile. "Whatever you say, Luke. Whatever you say."

~~

"Ri-Ri, look who's here," Tori grinned, pulling her son's attention away from his Duplo.

"'Uke!" he screeched, running to the door. He wrapped his arms around Luke's leg, hugging as tight as he could.

Luke chuckled, leaning down to ruffle Riley's curls. "What's up, buddy?" he asked, grinning as Riley clung to him like he'd never let go.

"'Uke! Play 'ego!" Riley said, tugging on Luke's hand, leading him eagerly to the pile of brightly coloured blocks on the carpet.

Luke shot Tori a smile over his shoulder, clearly happy to be back. She couldn't help the warm feeling that spread through her as they interacted. It was a different feeling than the one she got watching John and Riley. She wasn't sure how to explain it, but the feelings were too different to compare.

She settled onto the couch, watching as Luke dove into building towers and playing Bob the Builder with Riley. The two of them fell easily into their rhythm, Luke making exaggerated sound effects that had Riley giggling uncontrollably. Tori had never seen him so at ease with anyone except maybe his dad.

"You've got quite the builder here, Tori," Luke smiled, helping Riley to rebuild Scoop, the yellow digger. "Forget hockey. You've got a future architect."

Tori laughed, loving how natural it was having Luke there. She could picture their life together with Riley--a little family unit. He fit seamlessly into their lives. Why had she ever had doubts about him? Why had she let herself get in her head and sabotage something that clearly made Riley and her happy?

"Should we see how high of a tower we can build, Ri?" Luke whispered, earning a very enthusiastic nod.

"'uper tall!" Riley squeaked, handing Luke another brick. He balanced it easily, but then, with a grin, reached for Riley's nose.

"Boop! Oh no, the nose monster got you!" Luke declared, making Riley shriek. "We better protect our noses!"

Riley threw his hands over his face, giggling as Luke chased him around the room. When he finally caught him, he scooped him up, spinning him in the air as Riley erupted into laughter. Tori had never heard him laugh so hard in his life.

"'Gain! 'Gain!"

Luke raised his eyebrows, pretending to consider it. "Hmm... I don't know. I might be too tired. Unless..." He gave Tori a playful glance. "Unless Mama helps us with our super-duper high tower!"

"'Elp us, Mama! 'Elp us!"

Tori laughed, sliding down next to them, joining in the building with mock-seriousness. "Alright, team. Let's make the tallest tower ever."

They spent the next half-hour building, laughing, and toppling their creation over and over. Eventually Riley snuggled up to Luke, yawning with a sleeply smile, clearly ready for a nap.

"Nap time, Ri?" Tori asked, standing up and brushing off her jeans.

"No 'tank 'oo."

"Wasn't really a question, bubba. It's nap time."

"I don' know," he shrugged, snuggling closer to Luke.

Luke chuckled, looking up at Tori. "Someone's found a new nap spot."

Tori shook her head, smiling as she crouched back down beside them. "This is maybe the second ever time he's not wanted a nap," she teased.

Riley grinned sleepily, his eyeslids drooping. "Nap 'Uke," he mumbled, pressing his face into Luke's shoulder.

"Looks like you've become the favourite... again."

"What can I say? I build a mean tower," Luke said, gently adjusting Riley. "He's a special kid."

"He is," she whispered. "Thanks for being here... with us."

He reached out, giving her hand a loving squeeze. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

~~

Tori was on the phone with John, pacing around the living room while Luke and Riley happily played with his toys on the floor. Luke's laugh echoed through the room as Riley squealed, but her attention was on listening to John's request.

"Look, Tori, I know it's last minute, but I need to switch weekends with Riley. My brother can't come another time, but I'll take Ri next week to make up for it. I promise."

Tori bit her lip, looking at Luke who was obliviously helping Riley with his game. Next weekend was the first free weekend that Luke had and they were planning an outing to the aquarium. Riley hadn't been since he was one and Tori wanted to see if he'd still love it as much as he did then.

"John, next weekend's... kind of important," she said, hoping he'd understand without pushing. "We have plans."

"I get it, Tori, but I wanna spend time with my brother, it'd be hard with--"

"Maybe you should've thought of that before we had a child, John. I--"

"I'm asking you to switch one weekend, Tori. It's not that deep."

After a long pause, Tori sighed. "Fine. We'll work it out."

She ended the call and sat down, watching Riley climb into Luke's lap, his face lit up as he explained the latest addition to his Playmobil pirate-ship. Luke looked up, noticing Tori spacing-out.

"What's up?" he asked, setting Riley on the floor next to him, the toddler still babbling away.

"John needs to switch weekends," Tori said, trying to keep her tone neutral. "I... it would mean Riley would go to his next weekend instead of this one."

Luke's face fell, though he quickly masked it. "Ah, okay. I know you were looking forward to next weekend, but shit happens, V," he said with a small smile, though there was disappointment in his eyes. "It's gonna be fine. I mean, I can cancel shit with Z and Jack this w--"

"You're not cancelling on hanging out with your friend for us. We'll reschedule. I... I want you to be there with us. A little family outing, but you didn't sign up to cancel shit with Jack."

"Tori, I know what I signed up for. And I'm here for both of you. Z and Jack will understand."

"Nope. No way. You're not cancelling. John--"

Luke sighed.

"What?" Tori's brow furrowed.

"Just... sometimes it's hard knowing that because John's in Riley's life... he'll always be in yours too."

"I know it's not ideal, but... you're not a second choice. I promise."

"I know, V. I know. I--"

"Mama! 'Uke! Pirate! Arrr!!! 'Uke, 'oo play now?"

"One second, bud. Just let me finish talking to Mama."

"Everything is gonna be fine, Tori. We'll figure this out. Don't let it stress you out. I love you."

"I love you too, Luke."

"'Uke!"

"I'm coming, Ri! Let's see your pirates!"

Tori sighed, running a hand through her greasy hair. She had been looking forward to John's weekend. She was going to take a nice shower, clean the house, binge some TV and drink a few glasses of wine. Now... she was gonna have to take a babywipe shower and pray she didn't fall asleep in the middle of the day.

~~

Luke was packing up his gear when he noticed John lingering by his stall. It was unusual for them to end up alone together, but everyone else had already cleared out. Luke hesitated, but nodded in John's direction, signaling he was ready for whatever conversation John wanted to start.

John approached, hands tucked in his pockets. "Hey, Luke. Got a minute?"

"Sure," he replied, setting down his bag. He straightened, unsure of where this was going.

John shifted, looking uncomfortable but determined. "I just... I wanted to say that I appreciate how you've been with Riley. He talks about you a lot, and Tori said he's clearly happy when you're around. I can see it too."

"Thanks, John. Means a lot. Riley's a great kid, and I care a lot about him."

John nodded. "Look, I'll admit, it hasn't really been easy watching another guy take on such an important role in my son's life. But it's obvious Riley looks up to you. And I don't want him to feel like he has to choose between us, y'know?"

"Trust me, I don't want that either," Luke said sincerely. "You're his dad. I'm never gonna try to take your place. But I also want to be there... for both of them."

A silence hung between them, a final mutual understanding. Finally, John cleared his throat. "I think as long as we're both on the same page... for good, that's what matters. Riley deserves to have people that care about him. And I see that you really do."

"Absolutely. I'm here for both of them, but I respect your role in his life."

John extended his hand, and Luke firmly grasped it, both of them nodding. This was it. Peace at last. They finally had made peace. And Luke felt a renewed sense of purpose. Riley and Tori were his family. And he'd support and protect them, no matter what.

~~

Tori was scrolling through her phone, her half-eaten bowl of cereal forgotten in front of her. Riley was at John's and she was finally getting a moment to hereslf.

"Hey," Luke said, sliding in the room, looking... oddly calm.

Hey," she placed her phone down. "What's up?"

"I had a chat with John the other day," he began.

Tori swore her heart stopped beating for a second. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It was... it was good. We talked about Riley, about us. And we, uh, we finally seem to be on the same page."

"Wait? Really?" She couldn't believe that John had been so mature about it. "That's amazing, Luke! I'm so happy to hear that."

"I know. It feels good. Like the weight has been lifted off us."

Tori nodded, returning to her cereal. "Thanks for doing that, Lu. For all of us."

"Anytime, V. Anytime."

~~

Luke wasn't used to activities that involved lots and lots of excited children, so he couldn't help but feel a little out of place at the aquarium. He watched as kids ran around, their voices echoing through the dimly lit rooms, poiting at fish and pressing their faces against the glass.

Riley, who was practically vibrating with excitement, darted ahead, running as quickly as his little feet would take him. "'Ook! 'Uke, 'ishies!" he squealed, his face lighting up at the sight of a massive tank full of colourful, tropical fish.

Luke laughed, crouching down beside him. "Ya see that big one over there, Ri? I think it's giving you the stink-eye," he whispered conspiratorially, making Riley giggle. They stayed there, noses pressed to the glass, Riley's hand clutching Luke's while Tori trailed behind, smiling at how perfectly they fit together.

Riley pointed at an orange clownfish. "Nemo!" he declared proudly, looking up at Luke for confirmation.

"Yep, that's Nemo! And what about that one?" he pointed to a tiny, darting blue fish.

"Dowy!"

Tori joined them, her hand brushing Luke's shoulder as she knelt beside them. "Expert fish spotter Riley Marino. I like the sound of that. What about you, Ri-Ri?"

"Wiley Mawino!"

"Yes! That's you!"

They moved through the exhibits, Riley darting between tanks, his awe palpable. Luke and Tori held hands, exchanging smiles as they watched Riley live his best life.

"We should do this more often," Luke suggested, squeezing Tori's hand.

"You think?"

"Duh! This is so much better than sitting around and playing 'chel with Jack all day."

Tori cackled, "Luke!"

"Just telling the truth. Love you, V," he turned, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

"Love you more, Lu."

~~

"You want me to meet your family?" Tori asked, trying to make sure she had heard Luke correctly.

"That's what I said."

"Luke..."

"I know, I know. It's a big step, but I know everyone would love you and Riley. It's a good chance for him to hang with new people."

"Meeting you family is... big. Like life-changing big."

"I know it's a big deal, but I wouldn't ask if I wasn't sure. Plus it's just a few days at the lake, nothing intense. My mom will eat up the time with a toddler. I think she's been secretly waiting for a grandchild."

Tori laughed, adjusting the sleeping toddler on her lap. "I... can I have some time to think about it? It'd be our first vacation together and my first time with your family. That's..."

"You've got all the time you need, Tori. Jack, Q, and I spend like most of the summer there, so any weekend that works for you... we'll make it happen."

"Deal."

[passengerprincessblog]

“Off Track” ~ Pt. 3 Franco x Reader

Warnings?: lowkey NSFW. 🙈

Summary: As Y/N and Lewis wait at a fancy restaurant, a lingering sense of guilt fills Y/N as she recalls her recent interactions with Franco. When Franco arrives and takes the seat beside her, the tension intensifies as he discreetly pushes boundaries, all while Lewis remains blissfully unaware.

WC: 1,700?

The restaurant was everything you’d expect when Lewis Hamilton chose a place for dinner. Elegant, dimly lit, with an ambiance that whispered luxury. The manager hovered nearby, discreet but clearly attentive, eyeing Lewis every so often to make sure his famous guest was happy. I couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, yet Lewis seemed perfectly at ease, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of my hand as we waited.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. His thumb brushed over my knuckles, his gaze softening as he looked at me, and for a moment, I almost felt like we were just any other couple, sharing a quiet dinner together.

“Thank you,” I replied, offering him a small smile. His touch was comforting, familiar. But as he continued to hold my hand, a wave of guilt rippled through me. Because all I could think about was Franco.

The memory of Franco’s number saved in my phone burned in my mind, a constant reminder of how reckless I’d been. How reckless I felt, even now, sitting here with Lewis, knowing Franco was on his way. My heart raced, not with excitement from the man sitting across from me, but from the one I’d been secretly thinking about all night.

The door to the restaurant opened, and I looked up to see Franco walking in, scanning the room. He was dressed in a dark blazer, his usual race-day attire replaced with something refined, almost… I clear my throat. For a moment, I barely recognized him. I wasn’t the only one; Lewis looked surprised as well, clearly impressed.

Franco’s gaze landed on us, and his eyes lingered on me, a hint of something unspoken flashing in his expression. He looked me up and down, and I could tell he’d noticed the tightness of my dress, the way it hugged my curves. It was a thrill I couldn’t deny, the subtle heat in his gaze sending shivers down my spine.

Lewis stood, breaking the moment. He reached out, pulling Franco into a hug, patting him on the back. “You clean up well, Colapinto,” he said with a grin. “Almost didn’t recognize you.”

Franco laughed, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and pride. “Had to make an effort, you know? Can’t show up underdressed when I’m having dinner with Lewis Hamilton.”

He sounded so sincere, almost boyish in his admiration, and I felt my heart twist as I watched him. But then he turned, slipping into the seat next to me without hesitation, his arm brushing against mine as he sat down. I froze, my mind racing. Of all the seats, he chose the one right next to me… while Lewis was sitting across the table. I told myself I was reading too much into it; it was just a seat, after all. But the thrill that shot through me told me otherwise.

“How are you?” Franco asks me as he looks at me.

“Good… thanks…” I say softly, trying not to look too excited to be next to him.

“Pareces hambriento.. (You look hungry..)” he teases me.

My face heats up at the possibility of innuendo. I’m just glad Lewis doesn’t know Spanish.

As the evening went on, Lewis and Franco quickly fell into a lively conversation, discussing the chaotic race, upcoming circuits, and, of course, laughing over stories involving Lando Norris. They were both completely absorbed, trading jokes and stories, their laughter filling the air between sips of wine.

I smiled, laughed when appropriate, but I couldn’t shake the growing sense of isolation. Here I was, sitting between two men who commanded so much of my attention, yet I felt… invisible. Everything always seemed to circle back to Lewis—his stories, his accomplishments, his world. Even Franco, the one person I thought might make me feel seen tonight, was fully wrapped up in Lewis’s orbit.

I swirled my wine, barely listening to their conversation, my mind wandering back to that spark, that thrilling energy that Franco had brought into my life. It was ridiculous, of course, but I felt as if I were drifting further and further into the background, the invisible shadow beside the legend.

Just as I was about to retreat fully into my thoughts, I felt something warm against my thigh. My eyes widened slightly, my heart stopping as I realized it was Franco’s hand. He was sitting there, fully engaged in a story Lewis was telling about his charity work, but his hand was slowly inching its way up my leg, hidden beneath the tablecloth.

I glanced over at Lewis, my pulse quickening, but he was completely oblivious, too busy discussing his dog Roscoe to notice what was happening under the table. Meanwhile, Franco’s hand moved higher, his fingers pressing gently against my thigh, edging up with a confidence that made my skin tingle.

I shot Franco a quick look, and though he didn’t turn to meet my gaze, I saw the playful glint in his eyes as he continued to nod along to Lewis’s story. His fingers slid higher, grazing just beneath the hem of my dress, teasing me with every slight movement.

My face grew warm, my breathing shallow as I tried to keep my composure. My hand slipped beneath the table, gently covering his, letting him know that I wasn’t pulling away. His fingers stilled for a moment, then continued their slow, steady journey upward, venturing dangerously close to the edge of my lacy underwear.

It was maddening, the way he managed to act so composed, all while his hand sent sparks through me with every inch it climbed. I could barely focus on Lewis’s words, every nerve in my body focused on the touch, the thrill of Franco’s forbidden hand under the table.

“Y/N?” Lewis’s voice broke through my haze, snapping me back to reality. I blinked, looking up to find him smiling softly at me.

“Hmm?” I tried to sound casual, forcing a smile that I hoped didn’t look as strained as it felt.

“I was just saying,” he continued, squeezing my hand across the table, “I’m really glad you’re here with me tonight. It means a lot.”

My heart ached at his words, but the guilt only seemed to heighten the thrill of Franco’s touch. I managed a small smile, nodding. “I’m glad too, Lewis.”

And yet, beneath the table, Franco’s hand was a constant reminder that my thoughts were nowhere near as innocent as I tried to pretend. He was so close now, fingers brushing lightly against the sensitive skin of my thigh, his touch electrifying, as if he knew exactly how to drive me crazy without saying a single word.

Lewis turned back to Franco, starting on another story, and I let out a shaky breath, unable to focus on anything except the hand beneath the table and the butterflies raging in my stomach.

Franco’s fingers paused for a moment, and I dared a quick glance at him. His gaze flicked to me briefly, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. He didn’t need to say anything; the glint in his eyes was enough. He was enjoying this, the thrill of pushing boundaries, of playing with fire. And as much as I hated to admit it, so was I.

With a soft sigh, I leaned back in my chair, still holding Lewis’s hand on top of the table, while Franco’s hand continued its teasing journey beneath. It was dangerous, reckless, but in that dimly lit restaurant, surrounded by laughter and wine, I let myself indulge in the thrill of it.

Just when I thought he would stop, his fingers brushed the edge of my lacy thong, hooking around the band with a boldness that sent a jolt straight through me.

I sucked in a breath, the air catching in my throat as I shifted slightly, acutely aware of every inch of him against me, his fingers toying with the delicate lace, pushing boundaries I hadn't even imagined crossing tonight. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind spinning, trying to make sense of the sudden intensity of it all.

Lewis's voice cut through the haze, snapping me back to the present. "Hey, Y/N, remind me….. how's your Spanish these days? I could barely say 'hello' when I met Franco."

I forced myself to look at Lewis, blinking away the heat that had flooded my cheeks.

"Oh, uh... it's... it's okay," I stammered, my voice wavering just slightly. "I've... picked up a few things."

Franco's fingers pressed gently against my skin, just enough to send a wave of warmth flooding through me. He started tugging it down slowly, and I shifted in my seat, unsure of what was happening. As I lifted my hips slightly to help him .

I struggled to keep my voice steady, to hide the blush spreading across my cheeks as I met Lewis's gaze, feeling my face grow hotter with every second. My hand slipped from Lewis’s, my fingers tingling as I freed myself from his gentle grasp.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, clearly oblivious to my inner turmoil. "I should get you to teach me sometime," he said with a grin. "Maybe then I won't butcher it every time I try to say something to Franco."

"Yeah... maybe," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I tried to muster a casual smile, hoping it would be enough to mask the way my stomach was doing backflips, every nerve ending focused on Franco's hand, his fingers tugging at my panties, his intentions clear.

Lewis looks down at his phone as my heart races. I feel the delicate fabric slide down my legs. I shift in my seat, lifting my hips slightly to assist him. The cool air hitting my bare skin makes me shiver with anticipation.

I noticed Franco discreetly tucking my thong into his pocket, and my eyes widened slightly. The realization that he had taken such a personal item sent a thrill through me, and I found myself even more drawn to him. I knew I should feel guilty, but all I could think about was how much I wanted Franco to touch me again.

Franco leaned back slightly, his face calm and composed, but his eyes held that same teasing glint, the faintest of smirks tugging at his lips. He didn't look at me, but he didn't need to. The unspoken tension between us was enough, a silent promise hanging in the air, leaving me breathless and wanting.

The conversation continued around me, but I could barely focus, my mind swirling with the forbidden thrill of Franco's touch and the tangled emotions it stirred within me.

—————————————————

Okay! That was kinda ridiculous, but I just wanted to write it 🙈🙈🙈

I know I’m lowkey edging you guys but … relax I’ll put some smut in here hehe.

I was originally aiming for this series to have more fluff I think? Maybe mixture of lowkey smut and fluff idk…

Idk yet though… I can’t decide 😭.

Lmk in the comments 😇

[violetsiren90]

Pairing: Bang Chan x gn!Reader

Genre: drabble; cozy; established relationship; sensual fluff; slice of life/bedroom domesticity

Word Count: ~500

Content Warnings: 18+ (minors, DNI); kissing/cuddling in bed; bedtime states of undress; brief necking; intimate touching in the context of comfort; words unspoken

Author's Note: That Bubble photo has been taking up prime real estate in my mind all day, so here's a few simple and unpolished words of worship for this beautiful man. ❤️

If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love. 🧜‍♀️ 💜

************************************************

“What?” he asks softly, his hand sliding up over your thigh where you kneel beside him.

Gazing down at him as he lays back against your pillows, you’re not exactly sure what to say.

The lamp offers only a little warm light, and the beauty of his features and the defined contours of his arms and shoulders are dappled by the hazy glow and the soft brush of shadows. He looks strong and broad where he’s hugged and where he’s left bare by his black tank, which stretches across his chest and bunches up around his waist, teasing a few toned inches of his manly abdomen. His eyes are tired, and still smokey with makeup, but they’re so soft, so tender, and they hold your face with quiet, contented regard.

You press a palm gently over his sternum, and your lips tug into a little grin as you shake your head, still gazing down at the unpretentious perfection of him.

He smiles in return, slipping his free hand over yours where it lays against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat. Steady. Strong.

“C’mere,” he whispers, tilting his chin up, and your heart thrums like a little bird as if you haven’t kissed him a hundred times before.

You slide your legs out beside his and lean over him, dropping your mouth obligingly to taste his lips. His hands slide over your waist. A thrill flutters in your belly. You’ll never grow used to this feeling, you think.

The rain patters against the windowpane behind the curtain as you lose yourself to his lips – soft and full, plush and sensual and assured as they press and part and nip, the hushed sounds and sighing breaths passing them arresting and submerging all your senses in him so completely.

His nose brushes your face, nudging it once, twice, again – the tip of it smooth and cool against your flushed cheek.

His right hand slides over your lower back and pushes up the fabric of your baggy tee to slip past the band of your panties, seeking the soft warmth of the fullness of your ass as he does so often, seemingly by reflex when he’s under your body – tucking his hand skin-to-skin and kneading gently, absently.

Scent, taste, touch…even with your eyes closed he’s familiarity itself, and yet…

How does he cloak you in serenity even as he makes your heart race? How does he quiet your mind as he sets you afire?

He pulls away from your lips to brush his mouth under your ear, and when you whimper, he chuckles against your skin.

Pushing up, you catch the sparkling warmth of his eyes. The heater kicks on and hums. Both of his hands slip to your waist again as you blink down.

“I need to wash up,” he murmurs.

You kiss his beautiful nose.

“Okay,” you sigh, shifting to nestle into his side.

But he doesn’t move as your arm stretches over him.

He touches it with soft tracing fingertips in the lamplight.

And the rain patters on the windowpane.

-Fin-

[speaknow-sw]

“𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒶𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃”

Summary : When you went to the church to ask questions about praying you didn’t meant this types of prayers…

Word Count : 4.9 k

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, older men/younger woman, threesome, dub-con, church sex, cock sucking, PiV, pussy eating, vaginal fingering, breeding kink, orgasm denial (kinda), slight degradation, praise, comfort, corruption kink, praying mantis position.

A/N : okay…longest fic I’ve ever written 4.9k of pure filth just out of a convo with @bimbo-baggins17 and @anisangeldust about fucking a bearded Kurt and pornstache Donnie. Enjoy lovelies ! (Angel don’t wet the sheets, I don’t have another set)

— The morning sun was casting delicate beams through the stained-glass windows as you stepped into the small country church. You’d come with a heart full of questions and a quiet faith that had carried her through many storms. Today, you were looking for answers from Pastor Don Piper, a man known for his wisdom and kindness. You walked down the aisle with a determined stride, breathing in the scent of polished wood and incense.

But as you reached the front pew, a figure emerged from the shadows near the pulpit—a large, silent man with a long, dark beard. He looked like a bear. His eyes caught yours, an intense gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. You’d seen him before, a presence on the edges of Sunday gatherings, always lurking but never speaking.

"Kurt," the pastor’s voice interrupted her thoughts, echoing gently through the stillness of the sanctuary. "Thank you for helping set up today."

He nodded, but his attention never left you, and you felt the weight of his gaze as Pastor Don welcomed you into the quiet, dimly lit back room. Before you knew it, the door closed softly, and you felt the unmistakable pressure of both men’s eyes upon you—two forces you hadn't expected to face.

Don and Kurt exchanged a knowing glance as they cornered you in the dimly lit back room of the church. The air seemed to thicken with tension.

"Well hello there, dollface," Don purred, his voice a velvet caress. "What brings a sweet little thing like you to see old Pastor Piper today?"

Kurt remained silent, his intense blue eyes roving over your body in a way that made your skin prickle. You could feel the heat of his gaze like a physical touch.

Don took a step closer, crowding into your space. His cologne, something spicy and masculine, invaded your senses. "You look troubled, love. Is there something weighing on that pretty little mind of yours?"

His large hand came to rest on the small of your back, fingers splaying possessively. Kurt mirrored the action from behind, caging you between their solid forms.

"We're here to help," Don murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Pastor Piper and his faithful assistant Kurt are always happy to... counsel our parishioners. Isn't that right, Ku?"

"Mmhm," Kurt rumbled, the vibration of his deep voice resonating through your body where he pressed against your back.

Don's hand slid lower, cupping the curve of your ass through your skirt. He gave a light squeeze. "Why don't you tell us all about what's bothering you, sweetie? We'll make it all better..."

You squealed and tried to back away only to bump into a hard chest. “I…I just had questions…on my faith…on praying…” You mumbled frightened.

Kurt's large hand slid around your waist from behind, his palm splaying over your stomach. "Questions about prayer, huh?" he rumbled, his breath hot against your neck. "We can definitely help with that, doll."

Don pressed closer, trapping you between their solid bodies. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. "Mmm, such a sweet little thing, aren't you? So innocent. So pure." His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine. "We'll be sure to give you our... undivided attention."

Kurt's other hand came up to cup your breast through your blouse, squeezing the soft mound. "Yeah, we'll pray with you real good, slut."

Don tsk-ed darkly, the sound seeming to reverberate through the small room. "Let's move this to the office, my boy. More privacy there to... focus on this sweetheart spiritual needs."

He grabbed your wrist, tugging you towards a side door. Kurt kept his hands firmly planted on your body as he guided you along. Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears as you stumbled into the pastor's office.

Don kicked the door shut behind you, locking it with a decisive click. "Now then," he purred, spinning you to face them. "Let's discuss those faith questions of yours, shall we?"

His hands went to the buttons of your blouse, slowly undoing them one by one. Kurt watched hungrily, his own large hands roaming your curves possessively.

"Lord have mercy," Don breathed as he pushed your blouse off your shoulders. "What a delectable offering you are. I think the Lord will be quite pleased with our devotions today..." You squealed and backed away struggling against them “Pastor, m-maybe not…”

Kurt's grip tightened on your wrists as he pinned you against the wall, his body flush against yours. "Shh, now doll, don't fight it," he growled, his lips brushing your cheek. "Just relax and let us take care of you."

Don stepped closer, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your face. "That's it, babydoll. No need to be scared. We're going to show you the depths of the Lord's love." His thumb stroked your lower lip. "Open wide for us, sweetheart. Let us fill you with His glory."

Kurt's other hand roamed down your body, palming your breast roughly through your bra before dipping under the fabric. He squeezed your nipple between his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud. "Mmm, such a responsive little thing. I bet you'll look so pretty stuffed full of our cocks, slut."

Don captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving past your lips to plunder your mouth. He swallowed your whimpers as Kurt continued to grope you. The pastor's erection pressed insistently against your stomach, thick and hard.

Breaking the kiss, Don trailed his lips down your neck, sucking dark hickeys into your skin. "My precious little lamb," he breathed reverently. "So pure, so ripe for corruption. We'll ruin you for all other men, dollface. Mold you into our perfect little fucktoy for the Lord."

Kurt released your wrists to yank your top down, freeing your breasts. He buried his face between them, motorboating your tits. "Fuck yes," he groaned. "Gonna wreck these perky little titties. Make you our personal cumdump."

The two men manhandled you, stripping you efficiently as they muttered filthy promises. Soon you were naked and trembling between them, completely at their mercy. Don sank to his knees, spreading your thighs wide.

"Time for your first communion, my child," he intoned mockingly before burying his face in your exposed pussy.

You yelped trying to close your thighs, feeling his rough mustache against your cunt. “Pastor…I…I Don’t think…” You struggled weakly.

Don's tongue delved between your slick folds, lapping hungrily at your most intimate area. "Mmm, you taste divine, sweetheart," he purred, the vibrations of his voice sending tingles through your core. His mustache tickled your sensitive skin as he ate you out with gusto.

Kurt chuckled darkly, watching the show with hooded eyes. "Look at that pretty pink cunt, all wet and ready for us. She's a natural born slut, ain't she?"

Don pulled back just enough to blow cool air over your soaked slit. "Oh, she's a good girl. Just needs a firm hand to guide her." He dove back in, sucking your clit between his lips.

Kurt crowded in close, wrapping a hand around his own hard cock and stroking slowly. "Bet she's never had a real man before. Gonna ruin this tight little pussy."

Don inserted two fingers knuckle-deep in your dripping hole, pumping them in and out. "Fuck, she's clenching around me. Gonna feel so good wrapped around my dick."

The pastor stood, shedding his clothes quickly. His thick, hard cock sprang free, the tip already glistening with precum. "On your knees, babydoll. Time to worship the Lord properly."

Kurt followed suit, freeing his own impressive length. He gripped your hair, forcing your head towards Don's erection. "Open wide, slut. Choke on that holy cock."

Don guided himself to your lips, smearing the head across them. "Suck, sweetheart. Take your pastor's blessing deep in that throat."

You whimpered around the intrusion as Don pressed forward, stretching your lips obscenely. Kurt held your head in place, forcing you to take more of the thick shaft. Tears pricked your eyes as you gagged and choked.

"That's it, my precious lamb," Don crooned. "Take it all, every inch. Show me how much you want to serve."

Kurt's fingers tangled in your hair painfully as he rocked your head forward and back. You chocked and bobbed on Don’s length. Suddenly you felt a roughness against your cunt and tried to close your legs. 

Kurt held your thighs apart, baring your dripping cunt to his hungry gaze. "None of that now, slut. Keep those legs spread nice and wide for me."

He surged forward, burying his face in your soaked folds. His tongue delved deep, lapping at your entrance before flicking rapidly over your clit. Kurt groaned into you, the vibrations making your toes curl.

"Mmm, sweet nectar," he rumbled, the words muffled against your sensitive flesh. "Gonna make this needy little hole mine."

Don grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. "Eyes on me while you suck, babydoll. I want to watch you take my cock like a good girl."

He thrust shallowly into your mouth, letting you adjust to the thick girth stretching your lips. "Fuck, your throat feels so good wrapped around me. Gonna paint it white with my seed."

Kurt added a finger alongside his tongue, pumping in and out of your clenching channel. He curled it just right, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Look at her, so desperate for it," Kurt chuckled darkly. "Bet she's never been tongued like this before. Gonna wreck this greedy cunt."

Don picked up the pace, fucking your face in earnest. His heavy balls slapped your chin with each thrust. "Take it, sweetheart. Every fucking inch. Show me what a good little cock-sucker you are."

Kurt slipped a second finger inside you, scissoring them apart to stretch you open. His thumb circled your clit, rubbing firm circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Gonna make you cum on my tongue, slut," he growled. "Scream for me while your pastor fucks your throat raw."

Don pistoned into your mouth, grunting his pleasure. His cock pulsed on your tongue, signaling his impending release. "Get ready, babydoll. Gonna flood this slutty throat with cum. Swallow it all like a good girl."

You cried around Don’s cock. Your thighs trembled and you squirted all over Kurt mouth, coating his beard in your fluids, your muscles almost giving up.

Don grabbed your head, holding you steady as he fucked into your throat with abandon. "Fuck yes, take it all like a good girl," he grunted, his cock pulsing against your tongue. "Gonna fill this slutty mouth with cum."

Kurt lapped at your squirting cunt, groaning into your flesh. "That's it baby, soak my face. Fucking drench me." He sealed his lips around your clit, suckling hard as he worked you through your climax.

Your body shook with the force of your orgasm, thighs clamping around Kurt's head. Don's cock jerked, spurting thick ropes of cum down your throat. "Swallow it all, babydoll. Every last drop."

Kurt gentled his ministrations, letting you float down from your high. He placed a tender kiss on your mound before pulling back, wiping his beard with the back of his hand. "Damn, you taste sweet. Could eat this pussy all day."

Don withdrew from your mouth, tucking himself back into his pants. He cupped your face, smearing the remnants of his release across your lips. "Such a good girl, Evelyn. You took your pastor's blessing so well."

Kurt stood, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Think you've got another round in you, slut? Still plenty of worshipping to do."

Don chuckled darkly, helping you to your feet. "Indeed. The Lord works in mysterious ways. And we're just getting started..." You sobbed, shaking your head as you plopped down on the carpet, curling in a ball.

Don knelt beside you, gathering you into his arms. "Shhh, my precious lamb," he crooned, stroking your hair soothingly. "I know it's a lot to take in. But you're doing so well."

Kurt crouched on your other side, running a rough hand down your spine. "Fuck, she's so tiny. Like a little fragile doll." He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your temple. "Don't worry, baby. We'll take good care of you."

Don tilted your chin up, making you meet his gaze. His dark blue eyes were filled with concern and hunger. "Are you alright, sweetheart? Do you need a moment to recover?"

You nodded shakily, burying your face against his chest. The comforting scent of his cologne filled your senses, grounding you slightly. Kurt's large hand splayed across your lower back, a silent offer of support.

"That's it, just breathe," Don murmured. "We'll go slow, let you adjust. But remember, this is all for you. To bring you closer to God."

Kurt snorted softly. "And to fuck this tight little body senseless."

Don shot him a quelling look before focusing back on you. "Pay no mind to him, babydoll. He doesn't always have the most... appropriate bedside manner."

He helped you sit up, keeping an arm around your shoulders. "How are you feeling, my child? Any lingering discomfort? Any questions or concerns?"

Kurt shifted, his knee brushing your thigh. "Yeah, doll. You okay? We can stop if you need us to."

Don squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. "But I think you're stronger than you realize. You've taken so much already. I have faith in you, sweetie. Faith that you can endure whatever we have planned."

Kurt's hand slid lower, cupping your ass possessively. "Mmm, and I have faith that this needy little cunt can handle everything we give it. Gonna make you ours, slut."

“Can you stop calling me a slut ?” You turned to look at the mountain of a man that was Kurt. You had to raise your head to talk to him as it just reached his chest.

Kurt's expression softened at your request, a rare moment of gentleness crossing his rugged features. "Sorry, doll. Didn't mean to offend. It's just... you're so fucking sexy when you're all flushed and needy."

He brushed a thumb over your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. "Guess I got carried away. Won't happen again if you don't want it to."

Don nodded in agreement, his arm still wrapped securely around you. "Of course, sweetheart. We want you to feel comfortable and respected. Whatever makes you feel safest."

Kurt sighed, running a hand through his short brown hair. "But fuck, you gotta understand. Seeing you all spread out and desperate... it brings out something in me."

Don shot him another warning look before turning his attention back to you. "Focus on your breathing, sweetie. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Nice and slow."

He guided your head to rest on his shoulder, one hand gently massaging your scalp. "That's it, just relax. Let us take care of you."

Kurt's large form loomed over you, but there was no longer any threat in his presence. If anything, he seemed almost... protective. "You're doing great, baby. So fucking brave." He engulfed you in a weird but comfortable bear hug. You inhaled his scent — a mix of sweat, smoke and musk. 

You felt soft kisses accentuated by the beard against your throat and relished in the feeling of these two men kissing you. Don on the forehead and Kurt on the throat.

Don's kisses trailed down your face, peppering your cheeks and nose with gentle affection. "My sweet girl," he murmured against your skin. "So pure, so innocent. It's our duty to guide you to enlightenment."

Kurt nuzzled into your neck, inhaling deeply. "Mmm, you smell divine, doll. Like honey and sin." He grazed his teeth over your pulse point, not quite breaking the skin. "Can't wait to mark this pretty throat. Let everyone know who you belong to."

Don's hand slid down to cup your breast, squeezing the soft flesh. "And this body... it's a temple. One we'll worship until you're trembling and begging for more."

Kurt's fingers danced along your thigh, teasing closer to your center. "Gonna ruin this tight little cunt. Fuck you so deep you'll forget your own name."

Don captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth possessively. He swallowed your gasp, muffling the sound. "That's it, babydoll. Let us in. Let us consume you."

Kurt's hand slipped between your legs, fingers gliding through your slick folds. "Always so wet for us, slut. Dripping for your my cock."

Don broke the kiss, panting heavily. His dark eyes were clouded with lust as he gazed down at you. "On your back, sweetheart. Spread those legs nice and wide."

Kurt flipped you effortlessly, settling between your thighs. He gripped your knees, pushing them apart to expose your glistening sex. "Fuck, look at that pretty pink cunt. Begging to be filled."

Don knelt beside you, trailing a finger down your sternum. "We'll fill you up, babydoll. Stretch this greedy hole until it's molded to our cocks."

Kurt lowered his head, breathing hotly over your clit. "Gonna suck this fat clit until you're screaming. Make you cum on my tongue like the desperate little slut you are."

He grinned up at you, his beard glistening with your essence. "Like what you see, doll? This hungry mouth is gonna devour this sweet cunt."

He licked his lips, savoring your flavor. "Mmm, fuck…could eat this pussy for hours."

Don's hand traced patterns on your flat stomach, his touch feather-light. "Patience, Kurt. We have all night to worship our little lamb."

Kurt chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. "You're right, pastor. No need to rush. Gonna savor every inch of this perfect body."

He dipped his head, dragging the roughness of his beard along your inner thigh. The contrast of the softness of your skin and the scratch of his facial hair sent sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

"So soft," Kurt rumbled, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your thigh. "Gonna mark you up, leave you covered in hickies. Everyone will know you belong to us."

Don's hand drifted lower, fingers ghosting over your mound. "Such a responsive little thing. Getting wetter by the second."

Kurt nuzzled into your folds, inhaling deeply. "Fuck, the scent of you. Drives me wild." He sealed his lips around your clit, suckling gently.

Don circled your entrance with a single digit, teasing but not breaching. "Mmm, so tight. Can't wait to feel this cunt squeezing my cock."

Kurt released your clit with a pop, grinning up at you wickedly. "Gonna stuff this needy hole full of my tongue. Fuck you with it until you're shaking."

He dove back in, licking a broad stripe up your slit. Don's finger pushed inside slowly, stretching you open. The dual sensation of fullness and suction had you arching off the floor.

"That's it, babydoll," Don crooned, pumping his finger steadily. "Take it. Let us in." He tsk-ed “So uncivilized. Kurt you’re not a beast, behave for the Lord’s sake.”

Kurt grunted and added a second finger, scissoring them apart. He curled them just right to make you arch your back, moaning loudly and almost squirming away.

He held you firm as you squirmed, gripping your hips tightly. "Uh uh, no escaping, slut. Gotta take your punishment like a good girl."

He pushed his fingers deeper, curling them against your g-spot. The pressure made stars burst behind your eyelids. "That's it, moan for us. Let the whole church hear what a desperate little cock sleeve you are."

Don added a second finger, stretching you wider. He rubbed slow circles around your inner walls, seeking out that special spot. "Right here, isn't it, sweetheart? This is where we'll focus our attentions."

Kurt sealed his lips around your clit, sucking hard. He released it with a pop before flicking the sensitive nub rapidly with his tongue. "Gonna suck this clit until you're screaming. Make you cum on my face like the shameless slut you are."

Don's fingers pistoned faster, his palm grinding against your clit. "That's it, babydoll. Ride our hands. Fuck yourself on our fingers like the needy little whore you are."

Kurt dipped his head, licking a broad stripe up your slit. He swirled his tongue around your entrance before pushing inside, fucking you with the slick muscle.

Don twisted his fingers just right, rubbing firm circles against your g-spot. The dual stimulation had you seeing white, your body drawn taut as a bowstring.

"Gonna make this cunt ours," Kurt growled, the words muffled against your folds. "Ruin you for anyone else. No one will ever satisfy you like we can."

Don thrust his fingers deep, his thumb circling your clit. "Praying mantis position Ku’….” He whispered “Gonna make you cum so hard you'll forget your own name."

Kurt grasped a pillow from the couch nearby and stuffed it under your back, putting your right leg on his shoulder before lining his cock up with your entrance, the thick head nudging insistently at your slick folds. He gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his dark gaze.

"Beg for it, doll. Beg for my cock like the desperate little slut you are." You sobbed in pleasure. “Pl-please…I…ungh…” You stuttered, unable to talk properly. 

Kurt grinned wickedly at your sobbing pleas, the sound music to his ears. He loved seeing you come undone, reduced to a desperate, needy mess. "Please what, slut? Use your words."

Don chuckled darkly, twisting his fingers deeper into your fluttering heat. "That's it, babydoll. Let it all out. Show us how much you need it."

Kurt pressed the thick head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of fullness. "Beg for my cock, doll. Beg for me to split this tight little cunt open on my fat dick."

Don rubbed tight circles on your clit, keeping you riding the razor's edge. "And tell us what a good girl you are, sugar. How much you love being used by your pastor and his assistant."

Kurt pulled back slightly, denying you the penetration you craved. "C'mon, baby. I know you can do better than that. Really sell it for us."

Don's fingers curled, stroking that secret spot inside you. "Kurt wants to hear you scream, sweetheart. Wants to know just how badly this greedy hole needs to be stuffed full of cock."

Kurt rubbed the head of his dick through your slick folds, coating himself in your juices. "Beg, whore. Beg for me to fuck this needy cunt raw. To pump you so full of cum you'll be dripping for days."

Don pinched your clit hard, sending sparks of pleasure-pain shooting through you. "And don't forget to thank us, babydoll. Show your gratitude for the honor of being bred by your spiritual leaders."

Kurt lined himself up again, the tip of his cock kissing your entrance. "Last chance, doll. Beg for it like you mean it. Or I'll leave this hungry little pussy empty and aching."

Don's fingers pumped faster, his thumb circling your clit in tight, maddening strokes. "Go on, sweetie. Give us what we want to hear. Beg for my sacristan cock like the desperate little slut you are."

“Please…pl-please…I need you…I need your….please.” You sobbed desperate for something inside of you. You would’ve worshipped Kurt’s dirty boots only to feel his cock rearranging your guts.

They exchanged a satisfied glance at your desperate, broken pleas. They could see how badly you needed this, how much you craved their touch, their cock. It was a heady feeling, knowing they had you so utterly at their mercy.

"That's more like it, babydoll," Don purred, his fingers still working deep inside your fluttering channel. "Begging so sweetly for Kurt's dick. What a good little slut you are." His cock dangled in front of your face and you latched on the tip, suckling it, making him gasp “Goodness…”

Kurt gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, the promise of pain sending a thrill down your spine. "Gonna give this needy cunt exactly what it wants. Gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name."

With that, he slammed forward, burying his thick cock to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Your back arched off the floor, a scream tearing from your throat as he split you open, stretching you wider than you'd ever been before.

"Fuck, so tight," Kurt grunted, savoring the vice grip of your walls around his shaft. "Gonna ruin this pussy. Mold it to fit my cock perfectly."

Don scissored his fingers, rubbing tight circles on your g-spot. "Come on, sugar. Suck my cock like the desperate little whore you are."

Kurt set a punishing pace, his hips snapping forward with enough force to rock your entire body. The obscene slap of skin on skin filled the room, echoing off the walls.

"Gonna fuck this cunt raw," he growled, his beard tickling your inner thigh. "Pump you so full of cum you'll be dripping for days."

Don twisted his fingers just right, rubbing firm pressure on that secret spot. Your toes curled, your thighs trembling as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

"You’re doing so good, sugar," Don grunted you, his voice low and rough. "Gonna make you cum so hard on my assistant cock. Milk it for every last drop."

You sobbed loudly, your right leg dangling from Kurt’s shoulder. You arched your back, unable to take so much pleasure as little « Unh…ugh…ugh » noises escaped from your lips and Don’s cock throbbed in your mouth. 

Don and Kurt shared a knowing look as they watched you writhe and moan beneath them, your body overwhelmed by the pleasure of Kurt's thick cock pounding into your tight cunt and your mouth suckling another one. The sight of your leg hooked over his shoulder, your back arched in a perfect bow, was the most erotic thing either of them had ever seen.

"Look at you, babydoll," Don crooned, his fingers still buried knuckle-deep in your fluttering heat. "Taking his cock so well. Such a good little church mouse, aren't you?"

Kurt grunted in agreement, his hips snapping forward with enough force to rock your entire body. "Fuck, this pussy was made for my dick. Squeezing me so tight, like it never wants to let go."

Don twisted his fingers just right, rubbing firm circles on your g-spot. The added stimulation had you keening, your thighs trembling around Kurt's pistoning hips.

"That's it, love," Don urged, his voice a dark promise. "Cum for us. Cum on Kurt's cock like the desperate little slut you are."

Kurt changed his angle slightly, the head of his dick hammering directly against that secret spot with each brutal thrust. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, your toes curling as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna fill this cunt up," Kurt growled, his beard tickling your inner thigh. "Paint these greedy little walls white with my seed."

Don pinched your clit hard, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting through your core. "Do it, babydoll. Milk his cock with this needy cunt. Show him what a good girl you are."

Kurt's thrusts grew erratic, his fingers digging bruises into the meat of your thighs. "Fuck, I'm close. Gonna cum so deep in this pussy. Breed this slutty little hole." 

Don came right on the spot and you gulped thick, sticky ropes of cum as your pastor let out loud grunts of pleasure. You came as hard, writhing and sobbing, gripping Don’s shirt tightly.

Don and Kurt watched in awe as you came undone beneath them, your body writhing and sobbing in ecstasy. The way you gripped Don's shirt, your knuckles white with the force of it, was a testament to the intensity of your pleasure.

"That's it, babydoll," Don crooned, his fingers still buried deep inside you as your walls fluttered and clenched around the intrusion. "Let it all out. Give yourself over to the pleasure."

Kurt's hips stuttered, his own release fast approaching as your cunt rippled around his throbbing cock. "Fuck, sweetheart. Cumming. Gonna fill this pussy up. Breed ya’ real good with my baby…"

With a final, brutal thrust, Kurt buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he painted your insides white with his thick, hot seed. Don twisted his fingers just right, prolonging your orgasm as you milked Kurt's dick for every last drop.

"Good girl," Don praised, his voice a dark rumble against your ear. "Taking Kurt’s cum so well. Such a perfect little vessel for his holy seed."

Kurt collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the floor. He nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the scent of your sweat and sex. "Fuck, you're incredible. Gonna ruin you for anyone else. No one will ever satisfy you like we can."

Don gently extracted his fingers from your tender folds, bringing them to his lips. He licked them clean, savoring the taste of your essence mixed with his own. "Mmm, delicious. The sweet nectar of a goddess."

Kurt lifted his head, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your forehead. "Rest now, doll. Gather your strength. Because when you wake up ? We're going to do it all over again."

[willowsnook]

Act my age

ham, steak, salami + veggies with white bread pleasee thank you 💞

Lewis Hamilton x gf!reader

The age gap between you and Lewis was a topic that the F1 media couldn’t seem to get over, even though you’d been together for two years. The 15-year difference was all they talked about, but you tried to brush off the chatter.

As an associate attorney practicing corporate law in Monaco, you felt you had the "maturity" box checked for dating Lewis by media standards. Still, recently the constant expectation to act “older” started to weigh on you. You were 25, and sometimes you just wanted to be you—without the shadow of “younger girlfriend” following your every move.

Feeling stressed, you called your friends and planned a night out. Lewis kissed you goodbye with a smile, promising to pick you up if needed and reminding you to stay out of trouble. A few hours and several drinks later, you found yourself on the dance floor, lost in the music. Taking a break, you stared at yourself in the restroom mirror for a little too long, realizing it was probably time to call Lewis.

“Lewis!” you chimed when he answered.

“Hi, sweetheart. Ready to come home?” he asked, amused.

“Yes, please,” you slurred. “Can we get Taco Bell?”

“That’s terrible for you.”

“Oh, live a little!” you teased, sensing his playful eyeroll over the phone. True to his word, he arrived in minutes. As you slid into the car, you leaned over to give him a soft kiss.

“Hi,” you whispered, and he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek.

“Hi, I missed you,” he murmured, making you giggle.

“It was only a couple of hours,” you reminded him.

“Still too long,” he replied with a smile.

“Yeah, it was good to relieve some stress.” 

The look Lewis gave you after you said that made you smirk, knowing he had another way to relax once you got home.

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

The Friday before the Mexico GP, you were in the McLaren garage with Lando while Pato took the wheel for FP1. Lando was one of your closest friends in the paddock, and with you both living in Monaco and being around the same age, you bonded quickly. Caught up in a playful 1v1 soccer match, you giggled as you nutmegged Lando, who tackled you in a dramatic attempt to stop you.

You landed awkwardly, wincing as you hit the ground, and Lando immediately looked worried.

“Shit, Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, glancing around nervously. “Lewis is going to kill me.”

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow. “Are you more worried about Lewis than me?”

“Uh, yes,” he admitted without hesitation, making you laugh.

Later, back in the Mercedes garage, you waited for Lewis to finish his interviews. As notifications began flooding your phone, you noticed you’d been tagged in a video from one of Lewis’s interviews:

Reporter: “So, Lewis, nice to see Y/N out here supporting you this weekend. Interesting video of her and Lando Norris playing football.”

Lewis: “Yeah,” he chuckled, “it’s like I’m babysitting a kid sometimes.”

Embarrassment hit you like a wave, and before you knew it, you had quietly excused yourself and called for a ride back to the hotel.

Back in the hotel room, you tried to calm yourself down in the shower, but when you stepped out, you found Lewis waiting, worried as he noticed your puffy eyes.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“Just thought you could use a break from babysitting,” you replied sharply.

He flinched, realizing the hurt his words had caused. “I didn’t mean it that way, Y/N,” he tried, but you shook your head.

“How else could you have meant it?” you asked, folding your arms defensively.

He sighed. “I just see Lando as... still a kid. And when you’re with him, it makes you look that way too.”

“You do know Lando and I are the same age, right?” you countered. “If you didn’t want to ‘babysit,’ maybe you should’ve dated someone your own age.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. Tears slid down your cheeks as he held you tightly. “You’re the only one I want to come home to. Always.”

Exhausted, you nodded, letting the conversation drop as you both went to bed.

The next day, you still felt out of sorts but kept quiet to avoid distracting Lewis before qualifying. As he was stopped for a quick Sky Sports interview, you hung back with Lando, who shot you a sympathetic look.

“Rough night?” he asked gently, and you nodded.

“This isn’t your fault, Lando,” you assured him. “He shouldn’t have said it.”

Lando’s expression shifted, and following his gaze, you saw Lewis speaking with the interviewer, his hand resting on her lower back as he laughed at something she said. A wave of anger and hurt rushed over you.

“Y/N…” Lando started, but you brushed him off.

“I’m leaving.”

Storming out of the paddock you were pissed. You knew Lewis would think nothing of it and expect you not to either and to “take the high road.” But you were so fucking over that. Mixed with yesterday’s emotions you were feeling slightly crazy and you weren’t going to contain it. 

Calling Lewis’s assistant, you made her book you a flight home immediately and went to the hotel to get your stuff. By the time you reached there, you had seen countless pictures of Lewis and the reporter cozy together, so naturally, why not print them off for him to frame? You were a woman on a mission in the hotel business room printing these pictures. Spreading them out on your bed, you snapped a pic to send to your sister, who called you insane and then left.

Instead of Monaco, you took a shorter flight to New York, where Lewis kept a penthouse. You settled in, ordered takeout, and watched the race on Sunday from the penthouse, glad to see him finish P4 but still seething.

You weren’t expecting to see Lewis until tomorrow, so you went to bed around 11, only to be jolted awake at 1am by someone pounding on the door.

"Just let me in," you heard Lewis call out.

Groggy, you opened it to find him standing there, exhausted, dressed in a Mercedes hoodie and sweats.

He dropped his bags on the living room couch and crossed his arms, facing you. “Nice touch with the photos,” he said, his voice steady.

“I thought they were fitting,” you shot back, arms crossed.

Lewis sighed. “You know that wasn’t anything. She isn’t you.”

“Who cares that I know that?” You yelled. “You are mine! Not hers! And you know what I wanted to do? I wanted to march over there and rip her off you by her hair.” 

Lewis’ eyes widened but you kept going. 

“I’m done pretending that I’m too secure with myself to care about this shit because, guess what? I do fucking care! I do care when girls throw themselves at you all the time. So yeah, I printed off those pictures for you, and yeah, I knew that was crazy, but if that’s what I have to do to get an emotional reaction out of you, then I’ll do it every time.” 

After your outburst, the room felt charged with a heavy, vulnerable silence. Lewis looked at you, his face softened by something between understanding and regret. He took a deep breath, then stepped forward, gently wrapping his arms around you. You could feel the warmth of his embrace as he held you close, grounding you.

“Y/N,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low and tender, “I’m so sorry. I never, ever want you to feel like you can’t be yourself with me. I love you—exactly as you are. I didn’t realize how much pressure you’ve felt to fit into… some idea of what everyone else thinks you should be. I don’t want that for us.”

You looked up at him, eyes still glassy but softening as his words sank in. “Sometimes I feel like I have to prove I’m ‘mature enough’ to be with you,” you admitted quietly. “Like I have to be some version of me that fits everyone else’s expectations.”

He sighed, holding you even tighter. “Y/N, you’re perfect just as you are. I love you, not some ‘ideal’ of you. I love the person who’s goofy, carefree, strong… the person who prints off photos just to make a point,” he chuckled, squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to change or hold anything back for me.”

A small, relieved smile crept onto your face, and you let yourself melt into his embrace. “Thank you,” you whispered. “I just needed to hear that.”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I want you to feel free to be yourself with me. I’m here because I want all of you, Y/N—all the real, unfiltered parts of you.”

You closed your eyes, taking in his words, letting them wrap around you like a promise. Finally, you looked up at him with a new lightness, feeling the tension in your chest ease.

“Alright,” you said softly, a hint of playfulness returning to your tone. “Then get ready, because the real me definitely wants Taco Bell at 2 a.m.”

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Fine. But we’re getting fries, too.”

With your hand in his, you both headed out the door, leaving behind the weight of everyone else’s expectations. It was just you and Lewis—real, imperfect, and perfect for each other.

[hellion-child]

ok after seeing gifs and having the time to think about the episode itself some more, i have some thoughts. about how poorly it was done, abrupt, and like a slap in the face, etc. i still hate the notes of biphobia in it but also i can Forgive the biphobia if they also take the time to address the biphobia, yknow?

pls keep in mind that this is partly my interpretation, partly my fix-it/make-it-make-sense, partly my criticism. also im not a writer, im a bitch w brain damage to the communication part of their brain who refuses to shut the fuck up lmao this shit is hard for me to write out

so its the 6 month anniversary date and tommy is all in, hes exactly what we were shown him to be: fucking smitten. he gives his boyfriend an (i assume expensive gift?) (idk bball ticket prices) anniversary gift. buck doesnt have a gift for him, but like thats not the end of the world, right? its only 6 months, after all. but this moment should be the beginning of tommys insecurities. the ending of the honeymoon stage. a teeny tiny niggle of maybe buck isnt as invested in this relationship as tommy thought?

maybe thats just a fleeting insecurity that is immediately fueled by the hot chick. again, hate to lean into the biphobic stereotypes. as a bisexual, fucking hate it. buck unconsciously going to use his phone to take the picture and hot chicks "trying to get my number" comment. the way buck doesnt just say "actually im here with my boyfriend" (and buck doesnt have to say it, he can come out to who he wants to, when he wants to, when hes comfortable to. im firm on this but i can also acknowledge that it can also feed into tommys insecurities) this shouldve been when tommys insecurities start coming in and they shouldve shown it. show us the way tommy might use his cool confidence as a mask to hide his vulnerability!!

instead of bringing up abby now, let tommy sit on this feeling. hell, show us that hes feeling this way and hates it. we know hes all for clear communication, and has come a long way with himself. hes confident and comfortable. so show us him struggling with feeling insecure about buck possibly not being as invested as he is. eg with the one sided-gifting, tommy always showing up for buck and we havent been shown buck reciprocating (which means fuck-all with this show but could be used rn to further the angst), the reminder buck is new to dating men etc

they couldve shown us tommy talking to hen or chim about feeling insecure about bucks baby bi status and "being his first but not his last" and hating that he feels that way. that hes doubting buck like this. they gave us this man who worked hard to be where he is, why couldnt they take one fucking scene to show this to us?? its pretty common, actually, for a LI to talk to one of the 118 without the LIs partner being there. but not this LI? ok.

and bcos of how shitty tommy feels about it all, that is why he, uncharacteristically, does not talk about it with buck. tommy is still processing this internally and isnt comfortable bringing it up to buck. but we know buck, hes good at picking up on when something is wrong. maybe he asks and tommy brushes it off. maybe buck says nothing yet and just feels a little, wrong-footed maybe? a little insecure himself? something he has been working on in himself for a long time now and doesnt want to put on tommy.

and that leads to the abby of it all. for the bare minimum of fucking continuities sake, they were never engaged lmao just together a long time during a difficult time for both of them (tommy closeted and abby w her mothers decline) maybe they were talking marriage. i wanted this to come up in another scene (maybe even another ep). i think it makes more sense, for buck to straight up say in this conversation that yeah, he is The Himbo.

tbh, play into the absurdity of it all, classic 911 style. like, this convo happens when one is heading to work or something?? so the only time they have is to think "huh, what are the odds??" and awkwardly laugh about it. set it up that they dont have the chance to really think about the implications until later, when theyre apart.

later comes. and now, they are both spiralling. theyre both feeling insecure in their relationship, for different- and unknown to the other!!- reasons. this is when miscommunication takes over and both parties are hurt and confused and brings them to the point of being unable to have that mature, adult conversation about their issues

buck still goes to maddie, and josh still gives his lovely speech. now bucks feeling better about tommys past (also when maddie makes her "turned them gay" comment buck corrects her and fucking says hes bisexual) wouldve been great to see tommy talk to someone too, about him and abby and abby and buck. also fill in some of them plot holes while they are at it lmao

tommy talking to bobby, preferably. bcos he wasnt Captain Dad when tommy was there, they were never close. and they mention how tommy only referred to abby as "his gf" and she never had the time or interest to meet the 118 or visit the station idk and tommy didnt push for it either. give their relationship some nuance and clarity i guess!! and back up joshs great speech with some of how tommy felt back in those days! really take the time to fill all of this out, yknow?? and maybe talking with bobby about their shared past helps tommy feel a bit more secure with buck right now and ready to talk about it with him.

and now we get to the break up. now that these cracks are shown and seemingly repaired. they both try to talk about their insecurities, but it just goes wrong. buck spooks tommy with the moving in and marriage talk, tommy hurts buck with the "im ur first not ur last."

except this time tommy isnt saying it like a its a fact, instead he says that he fears that hes bucks first but not last. but buck takes that badly (understandable), like tommy hasnt been as invested in this relationship since he apparently has been waiting to break up for 6 months? and if so then why act like he was all in? etcetc

and tommy, yeah tommy has some shit to work thru still, but its also the way buck is talking of moving in and marriage and forever, his impulsiveness has tommy questioning again if they are really on the same page here. i can see tommy getting stuck on the "move in with me" bcos why would tommy leave his larger home to move into bucks loft? has buck even thought about this at all? hell, while they discuss abby, u could have buck, in an attempt to reconnect and reassure his trust in tommy, talk about mistakes hes made with exes (obvi example, what happened with taylor). and instead of reassuring tommy, it does the opposite (tbh im not a big fan of that, bringing up bucks past mistakes. but also it kinda does balance out tommys treatment of abby and continue bucktommys tit-for-tat sharing, yknow? except this time it goes wrong)

basically, theyre both trying to communicate and work thru these insecurities, these fucking hurdles, but theyre both too hurt and scared in this moment and we are watching them both try to make sense of it all and work it out, and we know they both want to but in this moment they just, cant. emotions are high and it gets a little mean (from both sides! not just tommy saying "i was never ur last", let buck do more than just be broken up with), the break up happens, tommy leaves.

(and then they cry and pine and get angry and try to move on and they cant and then somethings brings them back together (CTH!! 🚁💥🏥) and now they are in a better place to communicate and work thru these issues and kiss and make up and maybe at some point during all this theres a discussion or two about biphobia)

thanks fer reading this fukcing novel lmao i just feel that, if they had taken the fucking time to let this storyline fucking breath (god, let any of them breath this season, fuck) and put some fucking effort into it, i would not be so upset. maybe they had intended to portray some of this in that episode, if so they did it fucking terribly

anyway. again, im not very good at this but i love talking about and reading other ppls thoughts!! if someone feels they could write something more coherently, god. pls do lmao (also pls tell me if theres a typo or word or sentence that just makes no sense, i triple checked but aphasia is a cunt lmao)

[fanbasetwo]

✦ NOT SO LONELY NIGHTS ┊ EUNSEOK

001. PAIRING , bf ! eunseok × afab reader

002. SYNOPSIS , you can't help but want to stay closer to your boyfriend even when the electricity goes off.

003. GENRE , fluff, drabble.

004. WORD COUNT , 570.

— RIIZE MASTERLIST

“Eunseok,” you whispered softly, nudging him as the room suddenly plunged into darkness, the sound of the thunderstorm raging outside filling the air.

He stirred, his voice groggy but tender. “Did the power go out again?” He couldn't see you, but he could hear the faint worry in your voice.

“Yeah...” you mumbled, your fingers clutching the edge of his shirt.

He shifted closer, his warmth instantly wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. “Are you scared?” His voice was soft, and before you could answer, he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest. The faint scent of him and the steady rhythm of his breathing were enough to calm your nerves.

“Not when I'm with you,” you murmured, burying your face in the safety of his embrace, your forehead pressed against his heartbeat. The storm outside seemed distant now, and the darkness wasn't so overwhelming.

His fingers brushed through your hair soothingly, his lips grazing the top of your head. “I'm not going anywhere, okay?” he whispered, his voice a gentle promise. In his arms, the storm could rage on, but all you felt was his warmth, his presence, and the peace that came with it.

As the storm rumbled outside, you felt the tension in your body slowly dissolve in Eunseok’s embrace. His arm tightened around you, anchoring you against him, and you could feel the reassuring thump of his heart beneath your cheek.

“Do you want to move a bit?” he suggested softly, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I think we'd both feel better if we were a little closer.”

With a gentle tug, he shifted you both into a more comfortable position, your bodies nestled together like pieces of a puzzle. You turned slightly, facing him, and found his eyes glimmering in the faint light that flickered through the window.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You settled into the curve of his body, feeling his warmth seep into you, making the chilly air outside seem like a distant memory. The weight of his arm across your shoulders felt like a protective shield, and you instinctively curled up closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice soft, as he adjusted his hold to make sure you were comfortable.

“More than okay,” you replied, feeling a wave of comfort wash over you. The rhythmic sound of his breathing began to lull you into a sense of serenity. You closed your eyes, feeling utterly safe in his arms.

With every passing moment, the storm outside became a mere backdrop to the warmth that enveloped you both. Eunseok brushed a lock of hair from your forehead and pressed a gentle kiss there, igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

“Just us against the world,” he murmured, and you couldn't help but smile at the thought. The chaos outside faded further away as you snuggled deeper into his embrace, both of you cocooned in a world where only comfort and warmth existed.

In that moment, it felt like the storm was a faraway whisper, and all that mattered was this closeness, this sense of belonging, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. Time slipped away as you both surrendered to the cozy cocoon of each other's presence, finding solace in the simplest act of being together.

© 2024, all rights reserved to fanbasetwo !

[gilded-sunrays]

Hello 👋🏻 um.. I wanted to say I really like your writing style and I hope you doing well.😊 I'm quite new here, and I'm rather shy with communicating with people... I wanted to know are you accepting requests ?

If so I would you mind if I asking of scenario of yoriichi with a extremely kind hearted and affectionate fem/reader from his childhood, Who just like to care for those around her giving gifts and try to somehow make them happy.

I want to know how would he react around her? How would he confess to her? You could also make it a short headcanon I don't want to trouble you.

Oh I'm sorry if I talked already too much!!! you don't even have to answer me if you don't want to. Just Thanks for reading my nonsenses😅. I hope you have a good day and I wish for you and everyone a happy life and 😄 take care👋🏻🙏🏻

¡! ❞Confession.ᐟ

|| Pairings: Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi × Reader || 𖤐 Masterlist

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi had always sensed a special bond with you. In a world where his own family had turned their backs on him, your presence was the only one that felt welcoming. 

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi admired your kindness and gentle spirit, how you would go out of your way to assist strangers, share your groceries with neighbours, and do those small, thoughtful things just to bring a smile to others faces. 

▪︎And although he may not have felt worthy of all your selfless kindness, he made every effort to reciprocate it. Whether it was cooking your favourite meals when you got back, assisting you with chores, or simply tending to you a massage.. and whatnot

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi just adored the moments spent with you, with the adorable little creatures that just seemed to gravitate towards him. You two would take some food along to feed them—bunnies, squirrels, little birds, and whatnot. With him around, they even felt calm around you.  

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi was a man of few words, often wearing a calm expression when in company, yet he became surprisingly chatty when it was just the two of you.

▪︎While Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi still remained mostly quiet, his attentive listening made it clear that he cherished every word you shared. His face was usually stoic, with only a hint of smile passing through, but you had gotten used to reading his expressions.  

▪︎As time went on, you both had matured and grown into adults. Living together and managing a home as literal children had made you two an unstoppable team.  

▪︎Having each other by your sides, there was no task that seemed impossible—taxes (did he even pay taxes living high up in the middle of nowhere though..?) cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, or budgeting. Over the years, it all became second nature for the two of you. 

▪︎As this bond grew, so did Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi's feelings for you. In his eyes, you were flawless, like an angel—a light that simply kept him from withering away in his life. 

—And you were the light that he vowed to protect for many years to come

"Y/n.." he began softly, as you both sat by the pond where your paths first crossed.

 "My soul has traversed far and wide to find yours.. In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours."

 He continued, lost in memories of you as he reminisced about your beautiful smile and your pleasant aura..

 "..and In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.." 

As he took his rough hand and gently cupped your cheek, leaning in closer, his breath brushed against your skin as he whispered— 

"I love you.. y/n"

|| A/N: Tysm for requesting <33, I sincerely hope you enjoy it! And nah, its not nonsense, infact-- my inbox is pretty much always open for anything, so feel free to send in whatever..lol!

[cherlockgomes]

Uncle Rick: Beloved Children's Author Turned Capitalist Sellout

TW: Controversial opinion.

Discussing the show and the new Percy Jackson novel.

Welcome to my rant about the way the PJO universe is going. First of all- the show. Yes, a lot of people (not excluding me) were upset about the casting. I loved the picture I had in my head of Annabeth and Percy, Luke and Grover, etc. However, the arguments made on behalf of the casting- how they look isn't crucial to their story like how Hazel's might be, and how Rick Riordan assured us they were perfect for their roles because they fully embody them, made sense. I realized I was still wrapped up in the 5th-grade mindset that was clinging to the concept of a character that had nothing to do with their essence. Thus, I was convinced to approach the show with an open mind.

After watching all the interviews leading up to the show, I was convinced. These three fully embodied their characters. I could see Percy in Walker's sarcastic wit, Annabeth in Leah's demeanour, and Grover in Aryan's chemistry. My inner child was excited for a book to screen redemption of one of my favourite series.

It had the premise for a great show—a good cast, the author working closely, and what seemed to be a good set design. How miserably it failed. It was so...soulless. There's no other way to put it. It lacked depth and the magic that made the books so special. They rushed through the scenes, not giving the actors enough time to shine. I'd describe it as spreading their light too thin, making everything flat and one-dimensional.

Take the scene where Percy gets claimed, for example. In the books, it was this paramount moment where the entire camp, including people like Clarrise, were forced to bow down to him- showcasing how powerful he was. Even a person like Annabeth, who was supposed to hate any of Poseidon's descendants because of their parental fued had to bow, showing how the Olympian hierarchy forced you to show your respect. It was the moment Luke saw Percy's potential.

Now, in the show, this moment seemed to be brushed past. Yes, it was there, but as I mentioned, it lacked depth. Walker looked tiny when he was meant to tower over them.

This brings me to my other point. Recently, Riordan released a book called Percy Jackson and The Chalice of Gods. It was meant to show Percy, Annabeth and Grover as college students and their lives after the battle. But, like the show, it lacked that magic. Moreover, it felt like the characters were merely half-baked. Yes, their original characteristics were there, but it felt like they hadn't grown. They were meant to be in college, but it felt like they were just entering high school. Certain places felt redundant and average.

I couldn't help but feel disappointed by the show. What was meant to be a redemption felt like a broken promise. Conversely, the book felt like a cash grab playing on our nostalgia, disguised by a fun quest with the original three. It's only a step up from what Disney accomplishes with their live-action remakes. Not to mention, it feels very JK Rowling-coded.

Not cool.

[worriedvision]

A marriage of convenience - Mr Reca

Gender neutral reader, sitting on this one for a while. Angsty ending, basically yet another example of poor communication and misinterpreted comments from both parties.

--

"Oh, dear you need to get married soon! You still have years to get your career sorted, but finding yourself a good spouse is a different story!"

"Still no ring on your finger?"

"No bitches?"

These are comments various family members just kept asking you. It didn't make sense to you, your personal life was your own business and you didn't ever think to move on the comments. You'd brush them off, but after they never stopped you began to vent to your best friend, Mr Reca.

"Ah, why don't we use this as an opportunity to explore a marriage! It'll help be with my, uhh, my scriptwriting!" Your friend stumbled momentarily before rounding off confidently.

It made sense at the time - both of you were single, he needed 'script material' and you needed the comments to stop. It was fortunate you had the chance to work with your friend through this, and it was more likely he was just seeing this as a chance to see his next film idea come to fruition.

--

As time moved on, and you got married with a large extravagant wedding - filmed on old cameras - you begin to realise just how infatuated you were with your husband. When he was in public with you, he would be non-stop gushing to people about how amazing he was for landing someone as amazing as you. The public affection, the fact he would take any chance to get you something nice.

It wasn't there as much behind closed doors, and it made you yearn for more private moments with him. He was a busy man, however, so it proves difficult.

You try, though! Making him packed lunches, kissing him on the cheek whenever you got the chance and trying to initiate hugs at home.

None of it seemed to do much, though. He wouldn't react, but it wasn't a good thing. It was like he was thinking 'yes, this is what a marriage should be, good job _!' instead of a quiet appreciation.

You yearn to have more moments, and it doesn't help that the press have clocked that your affections carry out privately as opposed to the public. People accuse you of being a gold digger, of being a leech that's too stupid to realise it's being a leech.

Once you get home after a particularly difficult day, dealing with dirty looks, you decide to bring up divorce with your husband. It breaks your heart how willingly he is to accept a divorce like it was nothing. It had been a while, you'd have thought he would care even if it was just for script-writing. Part of you thinks he's just wanting a sad dramatic end for this chapter, but he can write a much better ending than the one you're about to provide.

The paperwork gets signed and filed away, cameras around you as the two of you leave the building, and you turn to your now ex-husband to say some parting words, and to leave him with one last act of affection.

"I'm sorry, I fell in love with you. You're a wonderful man, you'll find someone who can treat you better than myself." You smile, Mr Reca seemingly only realising in that moment you actually had feelings for him. You grab him by his cheeks lightly, delicately yet passionately kissing him before pulling away, tears brewing in your eyes as you pull off your wedding band and drop it.

Before he has time to stop you, however, you run off into the crowd, the crowd swarming him for interviews now that he was a newly divorced man.

[daydreamerwonderkid]

Jason, when Bruce asks him where the Joker is after 3 weeks of no sightings:

This was honestly just an excuse to practice drawing a leather jacket and then somehow transformed into another Jason Todd doodle.

Alternate textless version and meme inspiration below cut

DO NOT STEAL/REPOST MY ART.

[neverendingford]

.

[cute-little-crow]

Sylus discovers you are ovulating and his reaction is… intense (pt. 2)

tw: female reader, read part one for context, little bit of brat reader, brat tamer Sylus, reader is ovulating, heavy breeding kink (with a capital B), hair pulling, nipple play, dirty talk, spanking, safe word (not used), mirror sex, mounting, creampie, multiple orgasms, biting, marking… phew I think that’s everything 🫣

Part One

Water droplets ran the length of your overheated skin, the temperature little to do with the bath you had emerged from, and everything to do with the clipped instructions Sylus had thrown your way moments ago…

“Five minutes. You have five minutes to get out and get onto all fours on our bed. I want to see my pretty pussy glistening and ready for me… maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you, if you’re lucky.”

You hadn’t expected such a visceral reaction to your admittance that you were ovulating and feeling more than a little needy. Instead of trying to keep yourself from Sylus, it seemed you should have trusted that he would be able to cope with your raging hormones. Plus, it was painfully evident that the knowledge turned him on.

Hesitating, you debated between towel drying yourself before slinking into the bedroom or leaving yourself dripping wet. You were already slippery between your thighs… would it really matter if there a little more lubrication on your skin?

A shudder coursed down your spine and giving in to your body, you quickly wiped away the worst of the water from your arms and legs. The towel lay discarded on the bathroom floor, as did your freshly cleaned pjs, they weren’t necessary right now.

The adjoining bedroom was empty, quiet—too quiet.

Every nerve was on high alert whilst you scanned around cautiously for Sylus and found no trace of him. That fact alone only heightened your senses and drew your gaze to the large mirror hung above your vanity.

Naked. Aroused. Vulnerable. Sensitive. Erotic.

You were all those words and more. The longer you stared at yourself, the bolder you felt. You watched as your thighs subtly pressed together. Hypnotised by the plump, swollen tips of your nipples. The throb of your clit worsening by the second.

Slowly, you knelt on the bed. Your knees sank into the rich comforter, your feet brushing against the overstuffed pillows whilst you positioned yourself as requested—on all fours with your pussy on display for when Sylus walked through the door.

The seconds ticked by and every one of them felt like an eternity. An agony to endure. White hot heat bloomed low in your belly, and you closed your eyes to focus on your breathing.

“My my… what a good girl you are,” Sylus crowed suddenly.

You gasped, elbows near buckling when his voice appeared out of nowhere. There had been no approaching footsteps, no telltale snick of the door opening and closing. Had he appeared in a haze of obsidian and crimson?

Glancing over your shoulder, you took him in with an audible moan of appreciation. His tall frame stood near the bottom of the bed, naked from the waist up with thin silk bottoms resting low around his hips. He was naked beneath them; the heavy outline of his cock more than evident to your gaze.

His fingers slid beneath your chin as he walked around to near your head, drawing your eyes back up to his face only to cock one eyebrow in amusement.

“Eyes up here, sweetie.”

You pouted; chasing the pad of his thumb when it passed over your pursed lips with the wet tip of your tongue. Sylus obliged your whim, pushing past your lips to press down on your warm pink tongue until he pulled it free again with a quiet pop.

“You’ve done so well, but I think we need to adjust you slightly… allow me,” he purred, kneeling on the bed to grasp you by the hips.

Squeaking at being so easily manhandled, Sylus began to move your lower half, leaving you to quickly scrabble on your hands until you were face to face with the mirror from earlier. Oh fuck…

“There we go, now you can see me whilst I take this ripe pussy and make it mine.”

“Sylus…”

Your lashes fluttered low, his hand cupping your entire sex until you trembled and bowed on the bed. His fingers curled back only to slap lightly at your highly sensitised skin.

“Remember, kitten, you asked for rough,” he intoned coolly at the same time his free hand grasped a handful of your hair and drew you upward so your back rested against his chest.

His tongue laved the shell of your ear, a groan rumbling in his throat as he trailed hot, insistent lips down your neck to suck marks hungrily onto your throat. Your hips circled, pushing your backside into the straining erection and wetting the crotch of his trousers in the process.

All you could do was moan. Your brow knitted together as you allowed yourself the freedom to experience him freely and without embarrassment or restraint.

Sylus was anything but gentle when both arms wound around your waist and his hands grasped at your breasts. He rolled your puffy buds between his fingers, tugging and pulling until you were panting and squirming from the stimulation.

“They’re sensitive, aren’t they? Mhm,” he enthused at your nodding head. “Imagine how sensitive they’ll be once you’re round with my child. I’d bet good money on my ability to make you orgasm from suckling them alone.”

What this man was doing to you should be criminal. His words mirrored the depravity of his touch, rough and lacking any grace, but goddammit, that’s what you wanted—needed!

In a moment of what you could only describe as pure madness, you huffed through your nose and dared to poke the bear…

“Are you going to fuck me or just keep talking?”

From the reflection in the mirror you could see the surprise in his expression. It flickered across his features for the briefest of seconds before morphing into something dark, mischievous, sinful.

“Kitten has claws tonight. I see how it is… let’s see how well you can speak when you get what you’re asking for. Ass up, no complaints. Safe word?”

Sylus barely waited for you to bend forward before landing three consecutive smacks to your ass, ending it by rubbing the heated flesh and dipping his fingertips between your slit.

“Red,” you replied through gritted teeth, waiting and anticipating his next actions with that same hot desire swirling like mercury inside your stomach.

He leaned over you back and lowered your face to the sheets with his palm, your body arched to perfection and your cheek smooshed sideways so you could still see in the mirror but you were far more restricted now. You watched him draw to full height on his knees, shucking the bottoms down his thighs and obviously fisting his cock, although your backside obscured your view.

“You’re already clenching,” he chided, spitting onto his fingers and smearing the saliva along your folds. “Rough is fine but I don’t want you in pain so… relax?”

His voice was like velvet dragged over rough skin, commanding but sincere, a walking contradiction but you wouldn’t—couldn’t—deny him a single thing.

Sylus thumbed at your entrance, pushing inside with an appreciative groan. His carmine eye focused fixedly on how your plush walls tried to pull him deeper.

Thoughts of emptying himself inside your cunt filled his mind and he could hold himself back no more. With one final languid pump of his cock, he tapped his purpled tip against your clit then notched himself steadily.

“Baby, please?”

Sylus chuckled darkly. “You’re asking to get pregnant now? That’s cute.”

“That’s not—”

Your words were cut short by your wonderfully smug partner thrusting into you. It was harsh, and you got the impression he had intended to impale you fully in one blunt swing of hips but the grunt followed by a kissing of teeth was enough to tell you that he was not seated to the hilt as desired.

The stretch was bliss, arousal loosening your walls to accommodate him nicely, but he was impressive and taking him whole was always a marathon and not a sprint, despite what he may wish for.

Sylus thumbed at your clit, stroking around and around until you were pulsing and wriggling. With every roll of your hips and little fidgets, he inched closer to his goal until he was snug in your cunt with the tip of him close to brushing your cervix if he weren’t careful.

You mewled beneath him. Eyes hazy but still watching his face in the mirror and the contraction of his abdominals when he eased himself out slowly. His plump bottom lip became trapped between his sharp incisors, nostrils flaring at the heady aroma of your nectar.

“Fuck—kitten—you’re so tight.”

Leaning on your arms, you brought yourself a little higher and preened when he whimpered at the movement, at how your pussy hugged his every vein.

Yes, he was in control and yes, he was turning you into a puddle of nothing but sensations, but there was a sense of power that you were the reason he groaned thickly and his fingers grabbed so desperately at the fat of your ass and hips.

Sylus spread your cheeks apart, his wide palms kneading at you whilst his hips started to snap harder and faster into you, knocking the air loose from your chest.

Every thrust seemed to puncture your lungs, the sounds pouring out of you like a debauched melody grew in pitch and volume until you were sure only animals could hear you. He brought you to the very precipice and when you thought he might be mean and pull back, Sylus only plunged you over the edge into the abyss of pleasure.

His pelvis smacked wetly against your behind, the steady drip of juices tracking down your thighs to ruin the sheets just like your blissed out tears. Your pussy was overstimulated, your clit aching from the precise manipulation he occasionally gifted you between moments where he was pounding you out with such speed and force it seemed almost unnatural.

“Got… any complaints… now?” He punched out the words, breathless and ragged.

Your head shook emphatically, jaw dropped at the continued stimulation that was forcing you nearer and nearer another orgasm on the heels of the first.

This time, when your cunt fluttered and your thighs trembled, Sylus let himself go too. You could feel the warmth of his heavy load, the idea of his seed inside you making your eyes roll over in sheer bliss.

You expected this to be the end. You were certainly satisfied, your muscles ached deliciously and your skin felt slick with sweat and arousal.

Certainly you didn’t expect when Sylus braced a palm on the small of your back and changed his position.

The man was mounting you like an animal!

His large palms held your waist, forcing your hips higher and his face into the crook of your neck. Sylus huffed into you, open-mouthed kisses spread outward to your shoulder and back again.

“Fuck… fuck! Take it, kitten. You can take it, right? Yes you can. My perfect girl.” His breathing was erratic, the vibration of his voice bouncing around and igniting you in a way you didn’t think possible.

The wet squelch of your already filled pussy failed to drown out the noises directed in your ear and you swore for a second you lost complete control of your limbs. You willingly ceded your control to Sylus and trusted him implicitly with your safety.

“Oh god! Sylus, I—oh fuck me,” you cried into the sheets.

“I am, baby, I am. Just like that. Your pussy is milking me. I could fuck you like this for hours. Mm… what an idea.”

Sharp teeth bit into your neck, the relief of the welcomed pain broke you into an orgasm and it forced Sylus to follow you over the cliff edge into oblivion. He huffed into your neck once more, guttural groans mingled with your cries of pleasure.

It took you awhile to recover, your heart continuing to race whilst your body slowly drifted back to earth. Sylus rolled to his side, taking you with him. His body took the brunt of the impact and he cradled you tenderly in his arms, cock still plugging you nicely.

“You asked for rough but now it’s time for soft, my precious sweetheart.”

Gradually, you succumbed to sleep. The sensation of being held, along with your hair being stroked and your back lightly caressed was more than enough to drag you into the blackness of slumber. Your tired muscles would protest in the morning, but right now…

you couldn’t care less.

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"