#i wasn’t going to have her fall in love with him

[6toru]

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 !

synopsis. upon recovering from a recent breakup with your longtime boyfriend, you find yourself confiding in a certain raven-haired man who is more than pleased to show you the rhapsodies of pleasure that his idiot of a cousin failed to give you. 

pairing. zen'in toji x fem!reader genre. age gap au + smut cw. mature content (mdni), slight slow burn, slight angst, ooc!toji (pls be warned), p in v -> unprotected sex, age gap (reader in mid 20s + toji’s in his mid 30s), infidelity, slap on the cheek (m), consumption of alcohol, loads of tension, big dick!toji, rough sex, cervix fucking, explicit language/dirty talk, fingering, squirting, oral sex (m+f), reader’s on the pill, creampiez, toji calls you “doll”, toji’s not a papaguro </3 + voyeurism & public sex (in extra scene)

wc. 16k

author's note. another repost of my work from my previous blog (chosai), and this is undeniably one of my top fav writing pieces <3

FOR THREE LONG YEARS, you genuinely believed that this man, Zen'in Naoya, was going to be the one you'd marry. However, one curious peek on his unlocked phone proved you wrong – terribly, terribly wrong. All those years spent on believing your mundane love life was due to your boyfriend’s grueling office job; often working long hours, and then coming home straight to the bed to fall asleep before waking up again and heading back to work — and all those messages proved your theories wrong. He wasn’t the workaholic he said he was, after all. The sounds of the shower running egged you to continue scrolling down his phone, feeling a myriad of emotions coursing through your veins; be it anger, dread, sadness, denial, and betrayal. You felt it all.

Trembling, you attempted to fight the tears as you continued to scroll; trying to retain everything before he finished his shower. Naoya spoke absolute filth in those texts, and you could barely believe it. There came the pictures of an attractive woman showing off her lingerie, thanking him for buying it for her. For as long as you were with Naoya, he had never bought you lingerie – he had never spoken to you so affectionately and lewdly compared to how he had spoken to the woman on his messages nor did he ever manage to finish you off, chasing after his release above all else. Your sex life was less than mundane, but you didn't try to make it a bigger issue for the overwhelmed Zen'in, so you relented – despite all this, you wanted to be understanding. However, you couldn't have been any more wrong.

To say you were flabbergasted was truly an understatement. For the past year that was spent talking about marriage and your future, your boyfriend had gone on week-long 'business trips' – to which you had later found out was a front so he could fuck his coworker.

"Ah, what the hell," you mumbled to yourself as you scrolled through his phone continuously, staring intensely at the screen. You then stumbled across a picture of Naoya, shirtless with a mischievous smirk. Almost immediately, you slapped your hand against your mouth; reading the messages in horror. 

NAOYA: I'll come visit you tonight. You better be keeping that on by the time I arrive. I wanna take it off you myself. AIRI: You're getting me excited lol AIRI: Just come here quickly and fuck me already babe~

You genuinely wanted to throw up. You turned his phone off and placed it back on the coffee table; you had seen enough. Coincidentally, the sound of the shower running came to a halt and you could hear the faint sounds of your soon to be ex dressing up for a "drinking party with his male colleagues". What a fucking liar, he was. You leaned your back against the couch, trying to keep your focus on the television while you attempted to control the burst of emotions that were more than desperate to come out.

The sound of the door creaking brought you back to the present, and you snapped your gaze over to Naoya in his casual business attire. You couldn’t control the biting scoff that left your lips. He had the audacity to look at you, confused. "Babe? Is there something wrong with my outfit?"

Babe. Hearing that word roll of his mouth, smooth like honey, was the sheer equivalent of him rubbing salt on your open wound; knowing damn well that you weren't the only one he was seeing. You didn't know how long he hid this from you, and you were honestly afraid to know the answer. However deep down, you knew you needed to know. You reached your arm towards the remote, turning the television off. It was silent now. You returned your attention towards the male with a cold gaze.

"We need to talk," you said firmly, yet your voice was slow as you tried to maintain the stability within your emotions that were moments away from bursting out of your chest. The male rubbed the back of his neck, a dry chuckle leaving his lips; his sharp brown eyes averting from your intense glare.

"Can't we wait? I can't be late for the party. The guys are already waiting for me—"

"The guys, you say?" You interrupted Naoya, laughing bitterly as the beads of tears you had desperately tried so hard to control trailed down your cheeks. “Or, is it Airi?”

Oh, how you wished you could take a picture of Naoya’s face the exact moment his mistress’ name left your lips. 

"What…?" Naoya’s voice had gone quiet, his eyes wide in both shock and horror. "W-What are you talking about?"

Even when caught, rather than admitting it – he still chose to act innocent. You shook your head in dismay, already feeling your composure crumble. 

"There's no use playing stupid, Naoya. It only makes me feel even more embarrassed for you." You said solemnly, your eyes clouded with tears. You could barely make out the facial expressions he was making, but just hearing his desperate excuses just added more to the ache that was growing within your chest.

"We'll make this short and quick," you continued. "After all, your Airi is getting impatient waiting for you in the lingerie you bought her."

Naoya gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowed down at you. "You looked at my phone while I was showering."

"Isn't that obvious?" you bit back, wiping your tears. "Anyway, how long were you and this woman seeing each other?"

You wanted to smack him until his cheeks turned red, but you held yourself back. "Answer me, Naoya."

His facade crumbled and if you thought you didn't recognize him enough, he effortlessly continued to prove you wrong. He looked down at you coldly, sneering at you. It stung, you had never seen him make such an expression.

"And how is this any of your business, hm?" He said, leaning down towards you with a cold glint in his gaze. "In any case, this should be your fault. You can't even satisfy me in bed! Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone out to seek out for another woman––"

Smack!

The loud sound of your palm making contact with his cheek resonated across the silent living room, the satisfying sting egging you on to slap him a second time. "You make me nauseous. You're surprisingly very audacious for someone who got caught red-handed, cheating.”

You pointed a finger at his chest, prodding harshly against his sternum. You didn't give him a moment to come down from the shock of you slapping the shit out of him. "Fucking answer me, Naoya. How long have you been seeing this woman?"

He mumbled his words, at first. They were barely coherent and you struck him a nasty glare. “What’s that again?”

"Two and a half years," the male grumbled out, holding onto his stinging cheek before mumbling softly. "Agh, fuck that hurts."

You could hear your heart shatter into a million pieces; you could no longer control the onslaught of tears that escaped your eyes.

"Even while we had talks about our future and discussed marriage?" You laughed bitterly through tears. You shook your head, crossing your arms together. You couldn't believe you wasted your time on this man. But then again, good fucking riddance; though the ache in your heart felt otherwise.

"That's all I wanted to know," you said, before turning your back to him.

"You... You're not even going to ask me why I did this?"

"No, there's no need to." You replied quietly. "I loved you and respected all your wishes even when you were too 'busy' to spend time with me. Regardless of whatever fucked up reason you had to cheat on me, I know well enough that it's not my fault."

Naoya stayed silent, but you could tell he was feeling frustrated.

"You're most likely going to keep fucking your coworker behind my back even after we get engaged or even married. So why not just end everything now?" You further added through your persistent tears and sniffles. "So, from now on, go ahead and do whatever. We’re done.”

There was a tinge of guilt present in his eyes, but you weren’t going to let it faze you. “Hey look, Y/N…”

You averted your gaze from his, and you can feel your lips beginning to tremble once again. He attempted to reach his arm up to you, but he paused and retracted when his phone resting atop the coffee table began to ring, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You both looked over to the phone, and a familiar name popped up on the screen. It was Airi. You pressed your lips together, blinking rapidly. 

You already knew who he was going to end up choosing. It was a no-brainer. 

You sighed and turned away, “Just go. You can get all your stuff and leave tomorrow morning.”

Making a beeline to your bedroom door and slamming it shut, you plopped down on the soft mattress and all emotions that you tried so desperately to contain had resurfaced; stuffing your face into a pillow, you wailed and wailed — succumbing to heartbreak.

Bitterness swelled in your chest when you heard your ex’s faint voice in the living room as he answered the call. “Yeah, I’m sorry babe. I’m heading straight over to you now.”

The door closed, and then came in the silence — however, not without the solemn echoes of your heartbreak. In the end, he didn’t choose you. After what felt like an eternity, your tears had finally dried up, but you stayed in the bed that was once shared between yourself and your now ex-lover. You needed to get your mind off things.

So there you were, clad in an oversized shirt as you walked down the empty streets of your neighborhood, strolling over to the nearest convenience store with your cold hands stuffed in the pockets of your sweatpants. Initially, you thought that walking outside could’ve helped with getting your mind off of things, however, it merely did the opposite; a string of curses leaving your lips in forms of mumbles with each moment that Zen'in crossed your mind.

You didn't realize how quickly fifteen minutes had passed until you stepped into the convenience store, immediately greeted with the cashier's voice laced in both fatigue and boredom. Scanning through the aisles of foods and other necessities, you mentally pondered on what you wanted to get. Bottles of beer, was definitely on the very top of your list. Oddly enough, you didn't have the appetite for anything else.

Purchasing the bottles came by quickly, and you immediately dipped out of the store and headed straight home, your worn out slippers continuously making contact with the concrete with each step you took. Your mind was relentless with attacking you with thoughts of Naoya and Airi, the woman he was seeing behind your back – and all you could think was that you wish you had caught him sooner, rather than trusting him with all your heart could muster and let him do whatever for 'work'. Biting your lips and blinking your eyes rapidly, you had desperately avoided letting out your tears once again; your face was already stained enough with your dried up tears.

As if the universe didn't prove to you enough that they weren't on your side, the skies above began to pour. It didn't even begin with a mere drizzle, not even close. Within seconds, your clothes were drenched and you tried to rush to the nearest shade – however, much to your dismay, there was none and the only solution was to run back home.

Your socks became soaked as well as your shirt, which was uncomfortably stuck to your skin, running through the dark neighborhood with your plastic bag filled with alcohol bottles used as a makeshift umbrella in hopes that it would shield you against the merciless attacks from the sky; yet, it all ended in vain when you tripped over a small crack in the concrete, your body immediately making contact with the cold and wet ground.

Fuck me backwards, that was the sole sentence that went through your mind as you fought back the frustrated tears that threatened to leave your eyes. You stayed on the ground, feeling defeated.

Then, there was a shadow casting above you and the rain stopped. You peered up through your weepy eyes, only for your attention to snap towards a familiar scar on the edge of a man's lips.

"You okay there, doll?" A sudden timbre echoed in your ears, and it was almost as if the rain had actually stopped.

"Does it look like I'm okay, Toji?" You said through trembling lips, feeling the waves of embarrassment washing over you as you stared back up at the tall male holding an umbrella over your head. “W-When did you get here?”

"Well, no. C'mere lemme help you up." Effortlessly, Toji hoisted you up back on your feet with a singular arm, and then his eyes traveled over to your hands. “I was driving by and saw you on the ground.”

"Are you having a house party with those drinks?" He questioned you, gesturing towards the dampened plastic bag filled with the bottles of alcohol.

"They're all for me." You replied in a joking tone, albeit it was the unadulterated truth. The raven-haired male caught on immediately, raising an eyebrow at your response.

“Trouble in paradise?” He asked you, his voice resonant as he looked at you with a curious gaze before his eyes widened in surprise. "O-Oh – are you crying?"

"No," you replied to the older man, though there was a waterfall of tears dripping down your cheeks. You spoke through persistent sniffles and shaky breaths, and at this point you weren't even sure if you were coherent for the older cousin to hear but you could honestly care less. "I c-caught Naoya... sniff... c-cheating on me… T-That little shit!"

"That dumbass..." Toji mumbled under his breath. "Let's bring you back home first. You’re drenched all over.”

He hurried you over to his car, and the musky scent of his car air freshener immediately struck your nostrils the moment you stepped into the passenger seat. There was something oddly comforting about it, though. Suddenly, he handed you a spare sweater sitting in the backseat, “Yer shirt’s drenched. Wear this to keep yourself warm.”

You had been so caught up in your emotions that you failed to realize the vibrant colour of your bra peeking through the drenched fabric. Bashful, you grabbed his sweater and thanked him profusely. He waved it off, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Slumping against the seat, you tried to ignore the musky scent of his cologne present in the thick fabric of his black sweater and you wanted to smack yourself profusely for letting your mind wander off too far, however you couldn't help but notice how large he actually is.

It wasn't often that you'd see Naoya's older cousin, as he would show up to family functions once in a blue moon. Though, at first you had found him intimidating as hell, you later found out you weren't all that wrong – making small talk with the older male here and there, much to your ex's dismay.

"Actually, Toji... I don't want to go home, yet." You admitted shortly after he handed you his sweater. "I don't want to come home and be paraded with reminders of that man."

Toji paused briefly before speaking, "So, you're saying that you want to stay over at my place tonight, doll?"

You could feel the blood rush to your face; a warm incarnadine imbued on the apples of your cheeks. You were surprised you hadn't paid much mind to it earlier, but there was something surprising arousing about his resonant voice; something about it tickled your brain the right way. You tried to stop yourself from letting your thoughts wander too far, after all, you had just gotten out of a relationship with his cousin.

"I didn't mean it in that way! J-Just drop me off home, then!"

"Whatever you wish, doll." Toji grinned teasingly before starting the engine, driving up the neighborhood through the heavy rain. “Anyway, I don’t mean to be noisy but how did ya catch that idiot red-handed?”

“He left his phone unlocked on the coffee table while he was showering,” you sighed heavily, staring outside the window with a somber gaze. “I later found out after reading his messages with his coworker that they’ve been seeing each other for two years. Two years and a half, actually..”

“Good fuckin’ riddance on yer part. I’m surprised that this man could last three years in a relationship, of course he had to fuck up and pull that shit on ya.”

You stared outside the window, feeling the heartache steadily returning the closer the car got to your apartment. Eventually, the car came to a stop, parked across your humble abode.

"Thank you for the ride, Toji. And thanks for the sweater. I'll make sure to return it to you once I get it washed." You said softly, looking at the older man with gratitude. He nodded his head in response, "Anytime, doll. Hope ya feel better soon."

Rolling his windows back up and preparing to leave, you stopped him before thinking. He paused and looked back at you, rolling his windows back down; meeting your flustered gaze. "Forgot anything in the car?"

"Um," you said awkwardly, feeling the heat returning to your face. "Do you wanna drink with me at my place?"

The older man blinked for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, "I didn't know ya were this type of person after a breakup, doll."

"Tojiiii," you whined, embarrassed. "I just don't want to drink alone and drown in my own sorrows. I need someone to talk shit about your cousin with too, you perv."

"Hey, that's yer fault for wording it weirdly." Toji shrugged before turning off the engine and leaving his car. "Though, I can't say no since you asked me so nicely."

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," you said, your voice soft as you walked out of the washroom door, dampened towel in hand as you made your way to the living room, plopping down on the couch next to the older Zen’in, though you made sure you maintained a distance. “It didn't take too long, did I?”

You glanced over at the male endowed with borderline Herculean features, and his eyes quickly met yours. Undoubtedly, you felt shy. You invited him over on a whim, last minute decision.

"Mhm, ya were really quick." Toji replied, smirking at your flustered expression. "There's also no need to be so shy with me, doll. Just think of this as one of our many small talks, but with drinks this time."

You nodded your head shyly before you dug your hands into the plastic bag, bringing out two bottles of beer. Thank goodness they stayed intact after your ignominious fall.

"Give me the bottles," said Toji, "I'll open 'em up for ya."

He made a come hither motion with his large hand, signaling you to give him the beer. Without thinking, your eyes stayed glued on his rough, calloused hands – you shook your head, embarrassed. Complying to his words, you handed him the bottles and he brought each bottle out, one by one, and opened them with ease; each movement was effortless, and a mere reminder of his strength.

He handed you the beer, and you thanked him with a soft grin.

"Cheers," you both said before drinking from the glass bottle, and a sharp sigh immediately left your lips. You looked over to Toji, who drank that beer as if it was water.  You found yourself getting dazed, almost amazed at how effortless this man made drinking alcohol appear. 

"About that idiot, Naoya," Toji began, swirling his bottle slightly, "Am surprised that guy managed to stay in a relationship with ya for so long. That man's never been the type to settle down."

You sighed heavily before letting out a bitter chuckle, "I'm surprised too, and I had to find out the hard way. Plus, he's actually out right now fucking his mistress as we speak. Funny, right?"

You let out a small grumble, taking a large gulp of the beer; ignoring the stinging sensation hitting your throat when you swallowed. Toji leaned back against the sofa, his dark blue eyes staring down at you as he continued drinking the alcoholic beverage.

"How are ya holding up right now, doll? I know damn well that breakups are never easy, especially with that guy."

You shuffled in your seat, you could already feel yourself getting worked up at the mention of your ex.

"To be honest," you spoke slowly, "I'm not as torn as I thought I would. I think I already cried all of those sorrows away, but I'm still heartbroken and bitter. Really bitter."

"Bitter? Do tell me more."

You took another large gulp, letting out another sharp sigh. By then, you were already drinking your second glass – feeling the heat steadily increase in your face. You slammed down the bottle onto the coffee table, an irritated expression plastered across your face.

"This man… hic… had the nerve to say that it's my fault because I didn't satisfy him enough in bed! Says him! He only ever chases after his own orgasm whenever we did it and barely… hic… lets me finish? What the hell!"

Tears were now rolling down your face, surprising the older man. One second you were showing anger and fury, and the next second you were slumped down on the couch as you drowned in your sorrows and heartbreak.

"I-I'm... I was never close to being his priority. I also… hic… found out that he's been spoiling and treating his mistress far more better than I was ever treated in the past two years…hic! How can I be so stupidddd."

"Hey now," you could feel a warm hand patting your back with an unforeseen gentleness, "it's better now that you found out rather than later. You deserve so much better, so don't beat yourself up too much."

The older man's words brought you comfort that you didn't know you needed. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder, downing on your second bottle of beer. You didn't realize through your drunken haze that he stiffened up at the sudden contact, but he didn't budge. You reached out for a third bottle, but he stopped you.

"Take it easy there, doll." Toji said. "Yer gonna have a hell of a hangover if you keep that up."

"Don't worry, I am," you said in a sing-song tone, though you still grabbed a hold of the beer bottle. "I'll make sure to drink slowly."

He massaged his forehead before chuckling, "Well you’re quite stubborn.”

You giggled softly through stifled breaths, “I-I can be sometimes… hic. Wanna help open this for me?”

He complied to your request, and opened the beer bottle once more with ease.

"I know it corny an' weird coming from an older guy like me, but believe me when I say that the end of a relationship does not equate to yer worth or that the world is going the end. So, don't beat yerself too hard, better things are about to come." He then paused before sighing. "Ugh fuck me, this is how ya know the alcohol's hitting."

"You don't need to pretend that it's the alcohol, Toji." You said, laughing. "You look more than sober. It even looks like you handle beer like how you drink a bottle of water."

"Anyway," you continued, glancing up at the man bashfully while you drank from the bottle; your throat had already grown accustomed to the stinging sensation of the alcohol, and you could feel your cheeks growing warmer the longer you allowed your mouth to ramble. "I didn't know you were capable of saying such sweet things, Mr. Toji."

He paused for a moment before sighing. 

"It's nothing," replied the man as he swigged the bottle. He wiped his mouth with his arm, exhaling sharply.

"You must've… hic!… had many experiences… hic!… with romances, Toji." You said, taking a sip from the bottle despite the persistent hiccups that escaped your lips.

"What makes you say that?" Toji responded, raising an eyebrow.

"You look like the type to," you replied and Toji laughed. “I realized just now… hic!… that you’re… hic!… good company to have around.”

"Ya think so highly of me, doll."

You looked confused now, tilting your head to the side – looking at the sinewy man deep in thought (as far your alcohol would allow). 

"Are you married? Seeing anyone, at all?"

"Divorced seven years ago, and nope."

"Ah..."

You both drank in unison, however your eyes stayed glued onto the older Zen’in. You felt yourself growing more sweaty despite having just gone out from the shower, your cheeks warm and your brain slowly yet surely getting even more fuzzy. You didn’t even realize how much time had passed, but the number of empty bottles resting atop the coffee table was enough for you to know that it had definitely been a few hours. Your eyes thoughtlessly wandered to his lips wrapped around the bottle; watching as his Adam's apple bobbed with each gulp he took, a small bead of sweat rolling down his neck. 

Without even realizing, rather than your beer, you swallowed your saliva. 

“I’m gonna get us some water!” You suddenly stood up from the couch, the sounds of your feet pattering against the hardwood planks echoing throughout the flat and Toji’s eyes followed suit. 

“Do you need help with anything?” You can hear his voice from behind you, though he stayed seated, comfortably, on the couch. You shook your head in response, playfully pointing a finger at him. “Don’t you move an inch, big guy. Your host will take care of everything… hic…!”

Turning around, you resumed to the kitchen with slight staggered movements. Reaching your hand out, you opened the fridge, letting the cool air hit your face that was engulfed with warmth. You sighed softly, feeling even more relaxed as you scanned the refrigerator. Grabbing the water pitcher, you set it aside on the counter and your gaze shifted to the tall cabinet. Unbeknownst to you, Toji’s eyes were glued to you – though, it was mostly to ensure your safety, but he couldn’t help but notice how your shirt rode up when you attempted to reach the cups; your face flushed and your eyes narrowed in concentration. Silently, he took another sip of his beer. He wanted to slap himself. 

“Ya look like you’re struggling, doll.” Toji called out, and you replied with a firm no. You shook your head, though you were really struggling – especially with your lack of balance. With one hand cupping the side of your head, your other arm reaching out to the glass cups resting atop the shelves while you were on your tippy toes, you attempted to reach even further but your feet lost its strength. Just as you were about to brace yourself for impact, a large and warm hand caught you; his arm snaked around your waist and your chest pressed against his well-built chest, and your lips inches away from his. 

You stared up at the man, surprised before blood rushed to the apples of your cheeks; further intensifying the warmth on your skin. 

“Shouldn’t have let ya do all the work when yer balance is already shit,” Toji commented, and you could only watch, flustered, as he extended his other arm to the two cups with effortless movements. You were unsure if it was the alcohol or the flustered emotions rushing through your veins, however you could feel your heart battering against your chest crazily and your cheeks growing warmer. You were also unsure if he had noticed his hand, large and calloused, was underneath the soft fabric of your shirt; his warmth radiating onto your bare skin. As much as you hated to admit it, you weren’t against it one bit.

 “You alright there, doll?” The timbre in his voice brought you back to reality, and you felt your cheeks growing warmer. 

‘Fuck, get it together! You can’t be getting these thoughts freshly out of a breakup!’ You attempted to reason with yourself, but when you glanced over to Toji’s concerned gaze, you honestly believed you were going to melt. This wasn’t your first time talking to the older Zen’in, having spoken to him many times in family functions or simply after crossing paths, though they were no longer than small talk. This felt somewhat different, however it wasn’t in the way you disliked. 

“I-I’m… hic… okay now,” you said shyly, averting your gaze from his. Toji pulled his hand away from your waist, extending his hand towards the water pitcher and filling up the two glasses. He handed you the glass, and you accepted the gesture. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he stared down at you as he drank from the cool water. You fidgeted underneath his gaze, your cheeks growing even more warmer. 

“Are ya feelin’ better now?” Toji questioned you, raising an eyebrow. You nodded your head slowly as you sipped from your glass, “I feel a lot better now, actually.”

“You’re lookin’ like you’re about to burn up.” He then commented before pressing the back of his hand against your forehead in an unforeseen gentleness. “Just as I thought.”

Just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, he beat you to it. “Let’s call it quits for tonight, doll. You should get some rest now..” 

Unexpectedly, he ruffled your hair gently; his thick fingers brushing through your locks as you could only stare up at the man dumbfoundedly. You were just beginning to enjoy his company even more. As embarrassing as it would be to admit (when you’re sober), but it wouldn’t hurt to talk for even longer – even if it wasn’t about Naoya, anything would suffice. 

 “What about you?” You asked him, tilting your head. “Why can’t you spend the night here… hic!… and sober up?”

“No can do, doll.” Toji said, his timbre rubbing your brain in the most satisfying way possible. “Anything can happen since there’s alcohol in our system.”

You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, looking up at the older man who looked like he had just drank water rather than downing two bottles of beer. Absent-mindedly, you grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and he appeared to be taken aback. 

 “B-But… you still shouldn’t drive around… hic!... drunk.” You persisted, but Toji shook his head with a light chuckle. 

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing but a little splash of cold water can fix.” He said before turning over to you, tapping on your forehead. “But you. You’re a bit too far gone.”

Your fingers immediately went to your forehead, covering the one area that the Toji had touched, your cheeks flushed a bright incarnadine. “Still,” you grumbled softly, glaring at the male, “you gotta wash your… hic!... face with cold water before you leave, no matter how sober you may appear.”

“Alright, alright.” Toji cackled, shrugging his shoulders. “You can even watch me, if it makes you feel any better.”

In came the following morning, and you were met with the sight of a familiar blond male with his suitcases in tow. You had just woken up from the couch to see your ex-boyfriend at least fulfilling his one promise, which was to leave your apartment with all his things. You rubbed your eyes, disgruntled at the persistent ache in your head. You didn’t have a moment to hark back to the previous night when all you could feel is your ex-boyfriend’s sharp gaze cutting through you.

 Naoya’s sharp eyes scanned your surroundings, “Were you drinking last night?” 

“Why are you asking me questions you know the answer to,” you grumbled out, stuffing your head into the comfort of your pillow. Naoya scoffed at your response, crossing his arms. “Well, you couldn’t have finished all those bottles yourself. Who were you drinking with? And whose sweater was in your room? Looks like it belongs to a man.”

“All of that is none of your business,” you snapped, your voice still muffled by your pillow. “Are you going to leave now, or what?”

“Tsk,” the blond male clicked his tongue at your sharp response, “are you now sleeping with another man out of spite? You’re no better than I am.”

This fucking man ––

Now you felt awake, and you shot up from the pillow — sending your ex a glare that would definitely kill if it could. “I’ll give you another slap on the cheek, ten times harder than yesterday since you’re begging so nicely for it.”

Naoya’s gaze narrowed, his lips forming into a sneer. However, he didn’t say anything. He knew damn well that he wouldn’t want to experience that slap again, or a harder one. 

“And,” you continued, feeling yourself getting more heated the more you spoke, “you absolutely have zero room to talk about spite or being a better person. Remind me where you went off to last night, hm? While I was drowning myself in beer, what were you doing? Oh, that’s right! You were busy fucking your coworker, and even spent the night with her!”

The audacity of this man never ceased to amaze you. Just hearing him open his mouth was enough to give you a reason as to why you shouldn’t mourn so much over the loss of this relationship, despite having committed so much of your time and energy into it. Frustrated and beyond annoyed, you massaged your aching forehead with your fingertips. 

“You clearly don’t feel sorry for anything that you did.” You spoke, your voice stern as a feeble attempt to mask your crumbling composure. “Even mustering an apology would suffice, yet you come in and have the audacity to accuse me of sleeping around?”

You paused for a moment, your gaze locked onto the Zen'in. Furrowing your brows, you sighed deeply and frowned. “What’s even worse is that you don’t look sorry.”

As much scorn you harbored for the male who cheated on you, there was undeniably a tinge of sorrow and ache that lingered within the depths of your chest upon making that crestfallen realization. 

Pointing at the door, you didn’t leave your couch but you glared at your ex-boyfriend. “If there’s nothing else you want to say, you can go ahead and leave.”

And just like that, he wordlessly complied — walking out of the place he once called his home after three years, a place where he once promised he’d make many sweet memories with you; all that he left behind now was a poignant silence and another headache, other than that bothersome hangover, that you now had to deal with. Staring blankly at the door where your ex had exited from, you heaved an exasperated sigh. 

In the end, Zen’in Naoya still couldn’t even muster a proper apology – not that you were going to forgive him, anyway. However, three years down the drain was still plenty to take in. But then again, breakups that end on bad terms were usually much easier to move on from, especially that cheater ––

Ping!

A brief noise coming from your cell phone brought you back to reality – cutting you off from your lamentable dwellings, and you snapped your gaze almost immediately to the source of the sound; your hand grasping onto the device, your eyes scanning the screen as you silently read the message. 

TOJI: Recovered from the hangover yet?

You absentmindedly smiled towards your phone; your thumbs already working on a response. 

YOU: barely ahaha YOU: what are you up to now?

TOJI is typing…

TOJI: Nothing much TOJI: Did Naoya come by and get his things already? YOU: yeah,, he actually woke me up to ask about the sweater and who i was drinking with before he left YOU: i didn’t mention you though, but he was being a total headache about it TOJI: Why not? It would’ve been funny if you did YOU: you wouldn’t want naoya to hop on your ass about it if i mentioned you

TOJI is typing…

TOJI: He wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on me anyway. That guy’s afraid of me YOU: you’re hilarious TOJI: Anyway TOJI: Thoughts on getting yakiniku tonight?

You didn’t realize it sooner, but over the course of days –– weeks, you eventually found yourself growing accustomed to the older male’s company; whether that be in the form of texting, or simply going out for drinks or barbeque –– Zen’in Toji was, without a doubt, clouding your mind. At this point, the thought of the misery your ex had brought upon you had dissipated. However, you wouldn’t deny that there was a wall that was evidently separating yourself from the Zen’in, a boundary that he, himself, had implemented. Oftentimes, it brought you back to an older conversation that you had with Toji; him telling you that he hadn’t truly been seeing anyone since his divorce, which was seven years ago. Even sometimes, you had gotten struck with the random spurts of realization that he was a decade or so older than you; his little nickname for you, every so often, served as a reminder. However, there were moments where you felt like you wanted to cross that line, and whenever you looked at Toji; his lips slightly agape, swallowing his spit as he stared down at you with that gaze –– you were certain that he was thinking of the same thing. This unspoken, yet increasing tension could be cut clean with a knife.

“Here. Get some meat and vegetables.” said Toji. With his chopsticks, he placed the freshly grilled meat and vegetables onto your plate. “What’s on yer mind, doll? Noticed you’ve been dazin’ off for quite some time.”

You shook your head immediately before thanking the older man profusely. “My goodness. I didn’t even realize they were moments away from burning. Thank you!”

Promptly, you threw the borderline broiling piece of meat into your mouth, chewing with tears slowly forming inside your eyes. “Wow, it’s s-so good. I love it.”

“Somethin’s on your mind after all,” Toji remarked, tilting his head off to the side while his midnight blue eyes gazed into yours. You gulped, swallowing the meat silently as you grabbed the glass of water and chugged it. 

“I promise you, it’s nothing really important. It’s just work.” You responded, smiling cheekily as you reached for the grilled broccoli with your chopsticks. You didn’t think you’d have it within yourself to tell him that he was all that you were thinking about – you’d simply drown in embarrassment before you could even utter a word! While you were chewing, you swiftly reached for the meat on the grill and placed it onto Toji’s plate.

 “It’s bigger meat,” you mentioned, “therefore, it’s all yours.”

“Oh? Look at ya bein’ all generous, doll.” he immediately teased you, raising his brows as his lips curled into an amused grin. “Ya weren’t like this the first time we went out for yakiniku.”

“Since when were you so observant?” You grumbled out, fighting the urge to roll your eyes jokingly. 

“I’ve always been observant,” Toji said while he chewed on the meat, swallowing with a satisfied hum. “But yer facial expressions make it so much easier for me. You’re not that great at trying to hide yer thoughts, either.”

You paused, staring at the man with a flabbergasted expression plastered all across your face. “Ya just proved my point,” laughed Toji. 

You closed your lips and pouted, taking another bite of the grilled meat – basking in the smoky flavor as you attempted to fight off the skittish emotions that were about to resurface. Though, you were unable to control the blood that rushed to the apples of your cheeks; heating up your face. “Clearly, what I did just now was on purpose.”

“Besides, what do you think goes on in my mind?” You questioned him, but as soon as those words slipped past your lips – you immediately wished you hadn’t. He sent you a teasing smirk, his eyes staring straight into yours as he uttered those words:

“I don’ think it’s the right time and place for me to say it here, doll. Ya might get a lil’ embarrassed if I lay them out for ya right now.”

Instantly, you could feel your face growing even warmer and you averted your gaze from his. “You’re bein’ mean right now, Toji.”

Then returned the insufferable tension. You fought the urge to squeeze your legs together, worried that the older man might catch on and you reached for another piece of meat and vegetable, chewing onto those two in tandem. Toji stared at you, amused; his head leaning against his hand as he played with the other pieces of food on the grill with the other.

“You’re awfully easy to get a reaction out of,” Toji further commented, chuckling. “It’s cute.”

“At this point, you’re just doing this on purpose!” You complained, blushing heavily at his teasing and he merely shrugged as a response. 

Time passed by quickly, and you were spent; leaning against your chair with your hand resting atop your aching belly –– staring weakly at the older Zen’in who appeared to be in no way affected as he downed the remaining food on the grill. When he met your gaze, he bursted out laughing; cackling, even, at your state.

 “C’mon doll, I think you can handle a lil’ more meat inside ya.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious, or if you’re making an innuendo.” You murmured, your voice course. “But I’m not taking another bite. I’m sooo full.”

“Ya pervert, I am bein’ serious.” Toji retorted, taking the last bite of meat before he gulped down his glass of water. 

While he briefly left the table to pay for the bill, you stayed seated on the chair, staring blankly at the clutter left behind on the wooden table.

 The more you thought about it –– about him, you were left with a feeling of anticipation that you knew wouldn’t be fulfilled. You bit your lips softly, trying to fight back that massive frown that was threatening to appear; you were certain that Zen’in Toji, your ex’s older cousin and nearly more than decade older than you were, saw you no more than just an eating or drinking buddy, or a young woman who was left heartbroken by his cousin. 

“Now, what’s with that long sigh?” A familiar timbre brought you back to reality, your eyes snapping over to his. 

“It’s ‘cause of my stomach,” you replied, laughing it off before you stood up from your chair. You glanced outside and down at your watch, “How long were we out for?”

“Hours,” Toji simply responded and you rolled your eyes. 

You both stepped out of the store, ready to leave until you felt the sensation of small beads of water falling onto your face –– mere seconds later, it began to pour heavy rain. Groaning in pure unadulterated dismay, you both rushed to his car which was across the street; using your arms as means to shield you from the pouring water. 

“I didn’t expect it to rain today, especially like this.” You observed, brushing your fingers through your dampened locks. Toji sighed in response, “To be honest, doll, I dun’ think I could drive you straight home in this weather. I jus’ checked my phone and it said that there’s a bad thunderstorm that’ll last all night  and there’s also a chance of a small flood happening.”

“Ah, that’s alright.��� You said. “So, what’s the plan now?”

“There’s an inn nearby and we can spend the night there, if that’s fine with ya.” Replied the Zen’in.

Your face flushed at his suggestion, and Toji immediately took note of it. 

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll sleep on the floor or couch – if there’s one.” Toji reassured you, and you could only nod your head –– completely and utterly dumbfounded with the series of lewd thoughts that began to cloud your mind. You and him. Together. Alone. You wanted to smack yourself. Genuinely.

You shuffled in your seat, feeling the heat in your face and between your legs worsen. You tried to distract yourself, silently immersing yourself with the music that was playing on the radio. Then the car came to a halt, and you stared outside the window. It was an average looking inn, nothing too special. Upon finding parking, you both hurried over to the entrance; rushing over to the receptionist.

“Room 261 is on the second floor, to your left. Please enjoy the rest of the night, you two.” 

The moment you found the designated room number and opened the door, you both stood there flabbergasted. The room was decorated in hearts and flowers — even the bed was large and heart-shaped, and on the nightstand, there rested a fuzzy pair of handcuffs, condoms, and bottles of lube. Instinctively, you touched your cheeks with the backside of your hand. Yep, your face is definitely hot. 

Toji covered his face with the palm of his hand, heaving an exasperated sigh. “Shit. I’m sorry, I should’ve known it was a love hotel.”

“Don’t worry,” you laughed it off, “they were being really discreet about it, so I’m surprised. When you look at the exterior, anyone who never went there would’ve also thought it’s a normal inn — totally not a love hotel.”

The moment you both locked gazes, you bursted out laughing.

“I-I’m sorry,” you giggled, “the fact that we actually got into a love hotel is crazy. Damn.”

“Just our luck,” Toji chuckled. “Oh, fortunately there’s a couch over there. The bed’s all yours, doll.”

Plopping down on the bed, you released a relieved sigh. “It’s so comfortable here, Toji. You should try it out, too.”

He slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, and a look of surprise was plastered across his face. “You’re right.”

The bed was large enough to fit the both of you, you pondered to yourself. Your eyes wandered to Toji’s large and sinewy frame, his back facing you as he fumbled with his car keys — his large, calloused fingers tracing along the metal ridges. Undeniably, his fingers were large — thick and long, even. For a brief moment, it almost made you wonder, in your uncouth curiosity, what it would be like to have his hands wander farther…

No. Stop it right there.

‘You horny, horny woman,’ you scolded yourself, mentally smacking your head as you attempted to hide the blush that was moments away from resurfacing. Briefly, you averted your gaze from the older Zen’in, trying to look anywhere but him — it was hard though, especially when this man was quite the eye candy. There was simply no way he didn’t not go out with other women. 

The insufferable tension lingering in the air was another thing you couldn’t ignore, it had been like this for weeks already; naughty thoughts and reveries involving the male came to you nearly every night and as much you tried to ignore it, you still noticed the way he licked the icing off his lips after taking a bite from a dessert, the veins adorning his large hand as he gripped onto the steering wheel, or how his eyes would flicker between meeting your gaze or your lips. 

This was driving you insane. Terribly insane. 

You could feel the weight of the bed lighten, and you turn your head to see Toji standing up from the edge of the bed, making large strides to the couch. Without ever turning his head to face you, he began to speak; his voice had gotten an octave lower, it caught you off guard.

“There ya go again, doll. Are ya even aware of the expressions you’re makin’?” 

“Huh?” You stared at him, dumbfoundedly. “What expressions?”

“Do I really have to say it?” Toji questioned, turning his head slightly to the side and tilted. Your eyes wandered to his lips, glued onto the small scar as he spoke. “I’ll sound a lil’ bawdy, but…” 

He pointed a finger towards you. 

“You’re lookin’ at me like you’re beggin’ to be fucked,” the man stated, his navy blue eyes meeting your flustered ones.

You tensed at his words, feeling a surge of heat overcoming you – his words paired with the timbre in his voice causing a stir within the depths of your abdomen. The atmosphere had changed, the tension was so unbearably thick; you could sense that his composure was also beginning to fall apart.

 “W-What?” You could barely manage to squeak out the words, but the older Zen’in’s gaze didn’t falter. You were, undeniably, aroused – for god knows how long. 

“I’m a pretty observant person,” Toji said, his deep and baritone voice ringing in your ears. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way ya looked at me earlier, and even the weeks before. Even now, you’re aroused. Am I wrong, doll?”

Your breathing had gotten heavier, hitching even. Was Toji that good at reading you, or were you being plain obvious? You didn’t know, nor did you care too much. Either way, whatever he said – he was correct. You were simply too embarrassed to admit it; you bit onto your lip, unable to come up with a response. 

“You gotta speak with yer words, doll.” 

You swallowed your spit, gulping softly. “I… You…”

The way you wanted to dig yourself a hole and shrivel yourself up into a ball. God, this was so embarrassing. 

“I… You…?” The man repeated after you, amusement plastered across his face. You opened your mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. 

“Ugh,” you groaned out, feeling the steams of pure and unadulterated embarrassment leaving your ears. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. You’re all I’ve been thinking about for weeks.”

You slapped your hands on your face, covering the roseate warmth that seemed to merely worsen as those words left your lips. Upon setting your pride aside, you had finally admitted the embarrassing truth. But, what would come after that? Would he be weirded out and distance himself from you? You averted your gaze from his, you didn’t have it within you to meet his eyes. As aroused as you were, you were also incredibly embarrassed – and even that was an understatement.

You felt his finger tracing your chin, lifting your face to meet his. You didn’t realize he had already made his way back to you, his Herculean build leaning close to yours yet there was, undeniably, an invisible wall that separated the both of you. 

“I tried to think nothin’ of it at first, but…” Toji began, stalling his words a little. 

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what you told me earlier,” Toji said, his voice low in a murmur; his gaze yet again flickering between your eyes and your lips. You gulped softly, your breath hitching in anticipation. “About Naoya not pleasin’ ya enough in bed. It seems to me you’re feelin’ all pent up now.”

He shot you a teasing grin, “Am I right about that too, doll?”

Your eyes widened, looking at the man in front of you in shock; your mouth agape and your cheeks flushed. “You…”  You attempted to come up with a retort, but all the words that threatened to leave your lips had come to a halt when he raised a brow towards you, his midnight blue gaze looking down at yours.

“Judging by yer reaction, I’m guessin’ I’m right.” 

“Yeah?” You riposted, biting your cheek. “So what about it? If you’re just saying this to make fun of me, then you can just quit… it.”

Your eyes trailed down, your words slowing down to a halt as you caught sight of the large tent growing at the center of his trousers. It’s big.

“I wouldn’t be sayin’ all this if I only intended to tease ya,” Toji replied, his voice slightly hoarse as he briefly followed your gaze. “But I’m glad it’s confirmed that we see eye to eye.”

“Eye to eye? Does that mean…” Your eyes stayed glued onto his bulge, and Toji turned his head away; a bright roseate blush tinting the tips of his ears. 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff. “It’s exactly what ya think it is, Y/N. It’s ya fault for being so fuckin’ cute.”

You stared back to his face, a look of wanton adorning across your face as you eyed his lips. Licking your lips, you gathered all the remaining courage you had –– cupping the older man’s face in your hands and bringing him into a soft and brief kiss, your lips locking for a few seconds before pulling away.

“I-I didn’t think you’d be seeing me in this type of light, either––”  your words were abruptly put to a halt when he locked lips with yours once more, this time with plenty more fervor; his large hand cupping the back of your head to pull you closer, if it was even possible. Tongues, forthwith, were intertwined as you followed the male’s lead; his well-rehearsed movements harbored from the years of experience you forgot he had. His lips were on yours, yet you felt as if your whole entire body was burning up.                                                                                                                                                                                                               

Your fingers traveled to his clothed chest, gripping onto the fabric tightly as you struggled to keep up with his movements. Without ever pulling away, he leaned closer; his weight slowly pushing your body down onto the mattress, a soft sigh leaving your lips the moment your back made contact with the comforts of the mattress. 

The wet sounds of your lips interlocking echoed throughout the room, along with the soft noises of your whimpers and moans escaping your lips as Toji’s hands wandered; leaving every curve of your body untouched, and the tip of his fingers snaking underneath the hem of your jeans. You wrapped your arms around the man’s neck, your fingers dancing through his raven locks. You barely remembered the last time you had a kiss this passionate.

Eventually, you both pulled away; revealing a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips together and anything else that escaped your lips were harbored breaths. You kissed him. And it felt so good. Pressing your fingers to your lips, your eyes traveled over to Toji’s –– it was evident that his self restraint was merely hanging on by a thin thread. You bit your lips at the thought.

“You’re makin’ it so hard for me to hold myself back,” hissed Toji, wincing slightly at the discomfort within his trousers. 

“You don’t need to,” you replied, your voice was quiet yet it was dripping with arousal. “I don’t want you to.”

Toji raised a brow at your words, but he couldn’t deny – those exact words did cause some sort of damage. “Ya sure, doll? I don’ think I’ll be able to stop myself once I start.”

You sat back up from the bed, your hand caressing his cheek; your finger tracing the small scar ingrained in the corner of his swollen lips. 

“Well, I don’t want you to stop either.” You murmured, your voice soft and you shifted your gaze to the tightened area of his trousers. “I can help with that, too.”

Taciturnly, you brought your palm to his lap, giving his enlarged bulge a soft squeeze; immediately eliciting a soft groan from Toji as a response to your sudden and bold movements. 

“Y/N,” he muttered your name, though it sounded more of a warning than anything. You squeezed it once more, shooting the male a playful smile; your fingers playing around with the small metallic zipper before you slowly zipped it down. 

“Can I?” You questioned him. It was clear you were ogling his bulge beneath, excited to explore for more; your eyes were wide in lewd curiosity, barely able to control the arousal and desperation within your movements. Toji found all of that, somewhat, endearing. 

“Do whatever ya want, doll.” He huffed out. “But ya also got to give me somethin’ nice to look at and play with.”

His fingers played with the hem of your shirt before they snaked underneath the fabric; the sensations of his rough and calloused fingers touching your bare skin – his blunt nails grazing your waist. You raised your arms up, and with effortless movements, he slipped the fabric off you. For a brief moment, you considered hiding yourself – a wave of shyness suddenly overtaking you, but all that stopped when you felt his fingers, once again, grazing your bare skin; slowly tracing over the cups of your bra. 

Your breath hitched, and a surge of heat rushed to your face. This was it. You were going to have sex with Zen’in Toji. However, undeniably, you felt like a virgin around the older male. His fingers lingered across your back, unclasping the undergarment with ease; he watched, with amused eyes, as it fell from your breasts –– revealing your soft mounds. Unawarely, your arms rushed to cover your breasts – but his strong hands held them back.

“Don’t ever think about covering ya self, doll.” Toji said, his large hands grasping tightly around your wrists. “I love the view I’m seein’ right now, so don’t be shy to show me everything.”

You tried to suppress any noise that threatened to leave your lips, biting onto the skin; your body writhing underneath the man’s soft, yet teasing strokes on your breasts, most particularly your nipples. You leaned closer into his touch, a quiet gasp escaping your lips as his fingers teased the erect buds — twirling, pinching and pulling; your mind was going blank to his teasing ministrations. 

“You have such pretty breasts,” Toji commented, pinching your nipples with his index and pointer fingers before he began to twirl the bud. You bit onto your lip even harder this time; your legs squeezed tightly together as you attempted to satiate your arousal in silence. 

“T-Toji,” you stammered out, “I’m s’pposed to be the one pleasing you first.”

“I can wait,” he grinned, licking a small stripe of saliva across your breast. “I needa show these girls some love first.”

You couldn’t even utter a response, all that came out were stifled moans and whimpers — your hand clasped against your mouth while your other was nestled in his raven locks. Zen’in Toji was, indeed, showing them love. Lots of love. The insufferable ache building up between your legs seemed to merely worsen, not even squeezing them together was enough to satiate it. You were far too aroused — melting immediately at the foreign, yet pleasurable sensations.

Toji’s eyes never left your face; analyzing every micro reaction your face made, every single move he made felt as though it was rehearsed — a well one, in fact; effortlessly finding the spots that elicited the most delicious reactions out of you with both his tongue and hands. He cupped your breast and gave the mound a squeeze, and he eventually pulled his mouth away from your nipple; leaving behind a thin string of saliva that connected his lips and your skin. If you were standing, your knees would’ve already buckled on the spot. 

Breathing heavily, you softly pushed the older male away from your body. “It’s your turn.”

You slowly lowered yourself, your hands tracing down his shoulders, his chest and then to his abdomen; your nimble fingers unbuttoning, thus unzipping his trousers. You didn’t realize you were holding in your breath, while trying your darndest to control your heart that was hammering rapidly against your chest. 

“Breathe, doll.” Toji’s baritone voice wasn’t much help, but you breathed in — then you heaved a shaky sigh. Gulping, you took in the sight of the sheer size of his shaft hiding beneath the thin fabric. 

By the time your hands reached his boxers, your fingers snaking underneath the hem of his underwear; you pulled the fabric down, slipping it down his muscular thighs — you were unsure if you were being obvious, but you attempted to stop your mouth from watering. 

“It’s big,” you thought aloud, slapping your mouth immediately after. Toji chuckled deeply.

“For a woman who’s mostly shy, ya certainly have no filter.” Toji teased, lightly slapping his hardened cock against your cheek. “How cute. Do ya think you’ll be able to take it in ya mouth, doll?”

You flushed a bright incarnadine at his words, “Were you always this crude?”

Wrapping your hand around his girthy shaft, you gulped softly as you slowly stroked his member; up and down, up and down –– your eyes were locked onto his face, taking in every micro-expressions that the older Zen’in was making, though it was evident that he was trying to suppress them; he was biting his lips, though he still had that sexy grin plastered across his face. For the longest time, you weren’t aware that Zen’in Toji had this obnoxiously lewd side of him, and you also didn’t know that you could be so fucking aroused because of it. 

‘Will he fit inside me?’ You asked yourself, nearing your lips closer to his cock. You licked a long stripe across his cock, circling the soft muscle around his tip before sucking on it. Toji immediately reached his strong hand to your locks, giving them a soft tug. 

“Fuck,” he hissed softly, “I almost forgot how good this feels. You’re so fuckin’ good with your mouth, doll.”

Breathing through your nose, you slowly took him inside your mouth; feeling the small beads of tears building up the lower you went down on him, your nose pressed against his pubes. It was difficult to breathe — he was just too fucking big! However, the loud groan of your name leaving his lips was more than enough as motivation to keep going; circling your hand around the area your mouth couldn’t reach, and you stroked his cock in languid movements. 

Each noise — grunts, hitched breaths, or groans — that escaped his lips, you could feel yourself growing even wetter; a puddle of arousal dampening your underwear. You continued to bop your head onto his cock, drool dripping down your cheeks as you attempted to take him deeper. You knew you shouldn’t have pushed yourself too much — you could barely remember the last time you’d done something this lewd, but you couldn’t help yourself. When there was Zen’in Toji in front of you, feeding your hungry mouth with his fat cock, there was simply no way you’d say no. 

The obscene noises of your mouth showing love towards his cock echoed throughout the room; your soft gagging, whimpers, and the slobberish noise your mouth made each time you bobbed your head lower made it nearly impossible for the older man to not buck his hips into your poor lips. The turbulent rainstorm showering outside had long drowned out — the sole sound of Toji’s little grunts and groans lingered in your head; hungry to please him even more.

“Atta fuckin’ girl,” Toji grunted, his hands traveling to your breasts to give your nipples a tight pinch. You clenched your eyes shut, whimpering softly with his cock deep inside your throat; writhing underneath his touches, every graze of his fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink of insanity. You squeezed your legs together tightly, bucking your hips slightly as you continued to please him. “You’re pleasin’ me so well, doll.”

“Ah—mmph…!” You let out a surprised moan, snapping your eyes open to stare at the raven-haired male as he pulled and twirled the erect bud between his rough fingers. Your grip tightened around his hips, and upon pulling away from his shaft, you gave the tip a good suck — grinning at yourself when you felt Toji’s body twitch at your manipulation; his breath hitching at the shocks of pleasure rushing through his veins as his fingers’ squeezed onto your mound. A line of praises escaped his lips in the form of grunts and mutters, his hand cupping your cheek; his thumb softly stroking the tears away. 

“Do ya even realize how arousing ya look right now?” Toji’s deep baritone voice rang in your ears as he bucked his hips into your face. He threw his head back, a mix of a hoarse chuckle and grunt leaving his lips. “You’re doin’ so good, doll. Keep on goin’.” 

Continuing on with your ministrations, you used both your hands to stroke his dick while you pressed your lips against his tip; bobbing your head down his tip while your hands made twisting motions as you fondled with his girth. You glanced up towards Toji, awaiting some sort of praise –– and he wasted no time; the thrusts of his hips had begun to stagger and a loud groan of your name escaped his lips, coating the insides of your mouth with thick ribbons of white. Pulling away from his length, your eyes returned its focus to the older Zen’in; locking eyes with his as you swallowed his cum, feeling the warm liquid trickle down your throat. 

Heavy breaths echoed through the room, Toji’s soft pants mirroring yours; his eyes gazed into yours wantonly and his fingers cupping your chin briefly before he leaned back in for a third kiss. Locking lips and tongues intertwined, he lifted the shirt off his body with ease; revealing his chiseled build. Panting in between kisses, your fingers trailed down his neck – traveling down his chest, and back up to his raven locks. 

His hand trailed lower to your pants, unbuttoning and unzipping effortlessly as he pulled the denim past your ass; his thick fingers grazing against your cheeks, slowly snaking underneath the thin fabric of your panties — shivering, you rocked your hips into his hand when he slid a finger across your slick folds. His breath hitched a little, pulling his lips away from yours. 

“I didn’t even put a finger yet, but yer drenchin’ it already.” He commented, and you could only watch — in both embarrassment and unadulterated arousal — as he licked your juices off his fingertip. 

His hands returned to the denim fabric hanging on to your thighs, pulling them down along with the thin fabric of your underwear. Without uttering another word, he brought his hand between your thighs — spreading them open. Midnight blue eyes locked onto your bare cunt, his mouth nearly salivating at the sight of your arousal dripping down your hole. Glancing down, he was, once again, fully erect. 

Extending your arm to his shaft, Toji had stopped you — though, not with words, but with the abrupt movements of his arms hooking around your thighs; pulling your hips closer to his face. 

“W-Wait––A-Ah!” The moment you felt his tongue prodding at your folds, your eyes rolled back and a sharp moan escaped your lips; your fingers immediately finding solace in his messy, black hair. Toji didn’t seem to listen, however. His tongue slid up and down your folds before pressing his lips against your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking harshly whilst flicking his tongue against it.

“Oh my––fuck! Toji!” You mewled out, arching your back and you could feel yourself convulse as he continued to suck and lick messily at your cunt. “T-There’s no way you didn’t sleep with anyone after your divorce,” you stuttered in between moans, “you –– mmph! Hah – y-you have to be lying! You eat pussy too good – AH!”

The older man grunted against your folds, his canines gently grazing your swollen clit. You writhed, your hips twitching in response. 

“What are you on, doll? I never lied to ya. Not one bit.” Toji replied, his voice muffled while he continued to stuff your face into your juicy cunt. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt this typa pleasure.”

With his tongue, he licked another long strip across your drenched folds – humming in delight; the timbre of his voice sending vibrations onto your sensitive clit. You bit onto your lip, staring at Toji in lewd desperation while you bucked your hips against his face. The pleasure you felt was surreal; nothing you had ever felt before. It was addicting. You could feel the pressure pitting in your stomach growing warmer – heavier, more insufferable. 

“I-I’m close,” you warned, digging your nails into his scalp and he let out a soft grunt, eating your pussy with plenty more fervor. 

“Don’ come yet,” Toji said, “hold on for lil’ more longer for me, doll.”

You gulped, nodding at his request. Closing your eyes shut tightly, you tried your darndest to not succumb to the pleasure that was washing over you like strong, persistent waves. Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come! Your toes curled, your eyes opening wide in surprise when you felt his two fingers, without any effort, slide into your drenched pussy –– his fingers stretching you out so deliciously; your walls clamped down onto his thick fingers that were knuckles deep inside your cunt. 

“Don’t come,” Toji warned you, and you could only stare at him with your heavy-lidded gaze –– too fucked out to care. You rocked your hips against his large hand, a string of incoherent moans and praises escaping your lips each time he fucked his fingers into you; his movements were fast and profound, eliciting such wet and lewd noises from your drenched hole. 

“Hm–– T-Toji,” you mewled loudly, throwing your head back against the plush of the pillows; your hands –– one gripping tightly against the wrinkled fabrics of the duvet cover, and the other tangled in the strands of Toji’s mane. “Ahn! P-Please let me come. You’re making me feel so… good..!”

Toes curling, another moan ripped out from your throat, your hips convulsing as he brought his mouth down to your swollen bud –– flicking circles and wrapping his lips around your clit repeatedly, all whilst fucking your pussy with his fingers as if he would with his dick (in your imaginations); curling his fingers, a loud whimper fell from your lips, your hips rocking desperately against his hand as his fingertips would kiss your sweet spot. 

“P-Pl-Please,” you could only murmur out, your whole entire body overwhelmed with pleasure and ecstasy. You could feel your eyes rolling back, your whole entire body writhing as he continued on with his ministrations – his fingers fucking you so well, hitting your g-spot with terrifying accuracy. His precise, yet profound movements were making your mind melt, along with the rest of your body. You could barely recount a memory where you came due to someone’s manipulation, often having to cater to your own needs to satiate the need for pleasure. However, now that you were experiencing it now; it was as if shocks of electricity were pulsing throughout your body –– your whole body growing sensitive, yet wanting more. 

The mixed sounds of his tongue sloppily making love with your clit paired with the wet noises of his fingers fucking into your hole, along with your mewls and the male’s sexy grunts filled the room. The persistent pressure growing in the pits of your lower abdomen was growing all the more unbearable, a new, foreign feeling began bubbling the more you tried to stop yourself from coming on the spot. It was getting even harder to hold it in now, you swore you could feel yourself burst.

“Fuck, doll.” Toji said, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy clenching tightly around his two fingers curled inside you, watching your juices trickle down your hole. “Look at me when you come, ‘kay? Look at the man that’s gonna make ya come hard.” 

You were completely under his submission, your eyes – though heavy-lidded – locked onto his midnight blue eyes; giving him a pleading look. He stared up at you, his lips locked around your clit and his fingers mercilessly doing their work on you. This sensation was something that you had never felt before – panicked, your fingers grasped onto his locks in a vain attempt to pull him away.

“T-Toji!” You whimpered his name, urgency evident in your voice. “I think I-I’m gonna pee!”

“Let it go,” Toji hummed, both his mouth and fingers continuing to pleasure you – edging you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Come for me, doll.”

And so you did, a loud cry of his name rolling off your tongue as your back arched; toes curled and your hips convulsing against his face —the warm juices spraying on his face and his hands, drenching his skin. A hitched groan escaped his lips, and he rubbed your clit with the palm of his hand; eliciting more of your juices to coat his hand while you twitched beneath his touches, strained moans leaving your lips as you rode out your orgasm. 

“Hah,” you heaved a breathy sigh, staring blankly at the ceiling for a brief moment before you finally noticed the puddle you left behind after your release, evidenced by the dampened sheets underneath you. Blood rushed to your cheeks, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothin’ to be embarrassed of, doll.” Toji grinned, the gentle grazes of his fingertips lingering onto your soaked thighs. “If anything, it’s fuckin’ hot. Was it your first time squirtin’ like that?”

You nodded your head, suddenly feeling shy once more. “Mhm. I can’t remember a time when I came this hard — let alone came from someone’s touch.”

“Damn,” Toji said, biting back a haughty grin. “Didn’t expect Naoya to be that much of a disappointment. But then again, it’s not too big of a surprise.”

“I’ll make ya feel much better,” he added, a smirk adorning his face while his arm extended to the nightstand — reaching for the packet of rubber, but you stopped him; your hands cupping his face as you made the man face you. 

“You don’t need to use it,” you said softly, your voice soft as you could feel the blood rushing back to your face. You glanced down at his cock, your mouth nearly salivating as you watched the girth jerked slightly in the air; a small amount of his pre-cum trickling out. You were right, this man was indeed an eye candy –– the most delicious one, in fact. “I’m on the pill.”

He stroked his fat cock languidly, his lustful eyes locking onto yours. “You sure about that doll?”

You nodded your head rapidly, it was almost foolish how excited you appeared — however, you were too horny to care. You needed this man inside you, desperately. Hooking your arms underneath your knees, you spread your legs apart for the older man to see — and he was instantly hooked; a hitched breath escaping his lips as he locked his gaze onto your drenched and needy hole — and your face too, looking so fucking lewd; the wanton look in your eyes begging him to fuck. A hoarse grunt escaped his lips, enamored at the heavenly sight. 

“Fuck me, Toji.” Pure arousal was laced in your voice as you uttered those words, your tone almost pleading.

Just how could he ever say no to that?

A sharp gasp left your lips when he pulled your legs closer to his hips, his large palms pushing your thighs back as he aligned his cock with your needy heat. You glanced down, lips quivering in anticipation as you watched him further prep you for his girth. He rubbed his thumb across your folds briefly, a low chuckle escaping his throat. “You’re still soakin’ wet, doll. I doubt we’d even need lube at this point.”

He inserted a finger briefly before pulling away, laughing at how your body immediately twitched at his touch. 

“You gotta relax for me, ‘kay?” Toji adjured, pressing the tip of his cock against your soaking entrance before slowly entering. Your arms immediately reached out, your hands finding solace around his chiseled back; your nails slightly digging into his skin, your body reeling at the stretch. He was too fucking big, and he only inserted the tip! The feeling of being filled up to the brim was incomparable to your fingers — you were going to melt. 

“Relax, doll.” repeated Toji, his voice strained. “You’re suckin’ me in.”

He nestled his face into your neck, peppering kisses and little suckles; thrusting his hips deeper and deeper. Small beads of sweat trickled down his neck as he reached halfway deep inside you, relishing in the way your walls clamped down onto his girth so tightly.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, closing his eyes shut as he reached the hilt – the tip of his cock now kissing your cervix. A shaky whimper left your lips, your arms wrapping tightly around the older Zen’in’s neck.

“You good?” He asked you, his face hovering yours. You nodded, pressing a small kiss on the corner of his lips as you softly rocked your hips against his — a small moan ripping from your throat when his cock grazed your sweet spot as he pulled away slightly, leaving just the tip inside before he slammed his hips back into yours; evoking a loud scream that ripped from your throat, your walls squeezing him like a vice as you trembled underneath his body. 

“Shit, doll.” Toji cursed under his breath, a coarse chuckle shortly leaving his lips. “Cumming, already?”

His calloused fingers traced over your hips, thus gripping onto your waist; his nails dug into your skin – his resolve crumbling by the second. 

“You can take another one, right doll? For me?” Toji questioned you, raising a brow towards you; watching you attempt to utter a response, but merely trembling as a result when he began moving his hips once more; relishing in the way your body reacted to his –– your hips trembling underneath his, your velvety walls clamping down on him – all whilst giving him a pleading look; your cheeks flushed and your eyes blown in lust. 

He chuckled, licking his lips. “Do ya even realize how lewd ya look right now?” 

He thrusted his hips roughly into yours, his fat cock sliding in and out of your soaked walls in ease. You stuffed your face into his shoulder, biting onto his collarbone to stifle the myriads of moans that threatened to leave your trembling lips. 

“Your pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight,” Toji said, purring as he rocked his hips into yours. “Like the way I’m stretchin’ your little hole out, doll?”

“O-Oh my god,” you whimpered into his neck, your nails digging into his skin; your voice jumpy from each rough thrust Toji made as he pistoned his cock in and out of your cunt; squeezing him back in each time. Each thrust he made, your body bounced along with it -– sliding onto the mattress; he made it his mission to fuck you silly. Jaws slacked and erotic groans escaping his lips, his nails digging into your hips as he continued on with his relentless pace; relishing in the way your body meld into his, your mouth agape as all the words that left your words would be incoherent. It was all so arousing, fucking you into an incoherent mess whilst you begged him for more.

You closed your eyes for a mere moment, reveling in the delightful pleasure — but with a rough thrust, the tip of his cock hitting that spot so deliciously, you shot your eyes wide open with a sharp gasp. Toji’s hand cupped your cheek before squeezing them, his dark eyes staring down at yours with a look of warning. 

“Hey, doll — open yer eyes, and don’t ya fuckin’ dare look away. Look at the man who’s fuckin’ you good, yeah?” He warned, nearing his face to yours –– your lips merely inches apart. The husky, strained timbre in his voice sent waves of arousal throughout your whole entire body. Nodding your head eagerly, you could hardly utter a response, any noise that managed to escape your throat were in the forms of moans and incoherent praises. 

Your mind was going blank, overwhelmed with pleasure and ecstasy. You were, quite literally, on cloud nine. The pleasure you felt was simply incomparable, and you could only feel yourself drown in it. Rolling your eyes back, another breathy moan escaped your lips; your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. The pit broiling in your stomach returned, and you could feel it building back up rapidly. 

“Mm—Fuck! I-I’m…” You tried to say in between moans, your body jumping up in tandem to the man’s powerful thrusts. “T-Toji… Ngh! I’m so close — you’re fucking me so good… Ah!”

Your voice alone was nearly enough to get the man to cum, but he relented. He bit his lips and clenched his jaw, reveling in the ecstatic sensations.

“Fuck, doll.” Toji mumbled out a curse, clenching his jaw. He dug his nails deeper into your waist, taking it all within him to not cum right then and there –– especially when your pussy was squeezing him so nicely. A strained moan escaped your lips, riding out your orgasm; your arms pulling the man close. Just as when you had thought you could have a moment to recover, his strong arms had lifted you up from the bed –– manhandling you, and you shortly found yourself on your knees; bent over with your ass high up in the air.

Smack!

Moaning, your body jumped at the stinging sensation of his palm making contact with your ass, feeling the heat radiate across the skin. Though, within seconds, your body melted to his touch; his strong hands caressing and squeezing your derrière, eliciting a soft hum that left your lips ––

“O-Oh!” You pressed your lips together, your eyes immediately rolling to the back of your head when he thrusted his cock back in – drenched in all your juices as he effortlessly slid back in; reaching the hilt, his tip brushing against your cervix as he rocked his hips back and forth; his cock grazing your sweet spot with each thrust he fucked into you. Stuffing your head in the comforts of the pillow, you were getting even more sensitive to his touches; every caress from his fingertips sent shocks of pleasure throughout your whole entire body.

Stifled moans escaped your lips, drool trickling down your lips as you gave in to pleasure; inching closer and closer to your release each time he rocked his hips against yours in an unforgiving pace. It was almost as if he was fucking you to impregnate you –– his brawny arms wrapped tightly around your waist; pulling you away from his cock before he pulled you back down, stretching your walls in the most delicious way. The many months spent feeling so sexually frustrated had melted away in this instant; the bed squeaked beneath your bodies, his thrusts relentless as he led you closer and closer to nirvana. 

“Ah, shit. You feel so fuckin’ good, doll” You could hear Toji’s grunts from behind you. “Hah, this pussy’s all for me, yeah? Hah—Mm…”

“Mmm… Fuck, yes! ‘S all for you, Toji — Ah!” You replied through stifled moans, your voice muffled by the pillow pressed against your face. “Y-You’re fucking me so deep…!”

“Atta girl,” Toji hummed and despite being unable to see him in that moment, you knew very well that he had a smug smirk tugged at the corners of his lips while he continued to fuck you.

You lifted your head slightly from the pillow, turning your face slightly towards Toji — a look of concentration was plastered across his face; beads of sweat rolling down his face and neck, strands of his hair stuck onto his forehead, his teeth gritted against one another. Fuck, he was too sexy. Loud mewls left your mouth, thrusting your hips into his cock as you desperately chased after your release.

“K-Kiss me, Toji.” You said, your voice pleading. An abrupt moan escaped your lips shortly after, followed with a small whine when you felt his large hand wrap around your throat –– hoisting you up slightly while he pistoned his cock inside you, and he pressed his lips against yours; muffling the loud moans and whimpers that tumbled out of your mouth as he tangled his tongue with yours. He traveled his hand below your abdomen, his calloused fingertips rubbing firm circles against your sensitive bud –– his lips not once ever leaving yours. You whined in his lips, feeling yourself losing strength in your arms. However, with his one arm hooked around your chest, he held your body up as he continued to fuck and rub your pussy. You were about to melt.

This all felt too fucking good. 

“Ah! Mmm—Ngh! I-I’m gonna come again––! I… Hah… Fuck… ‘m so fucking close — please, Toji. I wanna come so fucking bad––!” You whined in his mouth, bucking your hips desperately against his; your legs twitched each time his hips met yours, hitting that sweet spot each time he fucked his fat cock inside your velvety walls. “O-Oh my god, this feels s’fucking goooood.”

“Yeah?” Toji queried, groaning at your words, and you nodded your head eagerly. Suddenly, your face was once again pressed to the pillows; his large hand pinning your head in place while the other returned to your clit –– rubbing rough circles on the sensitive bud as he rutted his hips into yours with an unwavering fervor.

“Shit. Come for me then, doll.” He grinned, clenching his jaw as he slammed his hips into yours, driving your body forward on the mattress. 

The lewd noises of his hips rocking into yours, mixed with your wanton cries and his groans filled the room; only increasing in volume the closer you were towards reaching your orgasm. Given his staggered thrusts, you were certain he was also close.

“Mmm—Toji..” You mewled his name in between your needy whimpers and moans. “Hah! Ngh… Cum inside me…Ah! Want you… Mmm… to fill me up.” 

Toji’s arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace as he fucked you arduously; his lips latching onto your collarbone, peppering a line of kisses and love bites. 

A loud cry ripped from your lips, your whole entire body trembling as your orgasm washed over you; your eyes rolling to the back of  your head as you arched your back against his chest in pure bliss — your hips convulsing as your juices, once again, sprayed all over his cock and the mattress. The raven-haired man tightened his grip on your breasts, practically squeezing the mound as he succumbed to the rhapsodies of his release.

“Oh, fuuuck.” Toji let out a drawn out groan, slumping his body atop yours as the tip of his cock slammed against your cervix, coating your walls with thick layers of white, warm fluid. Breathing heavily and as small grunts escaped his lips, his brows furrowed at the way your walls clenched tightly around him in an attempt to milk him dry. Languidly, he pulled out of your heat, his dark eyes glued onto the masterpiece he had created –– watching his seed trickle down your hole. Grinning, he stuck his finger back in, pushing his cum back inside your wet folds. 

Heavy breaths filled the room, then returned the noises of the beads of rain smacking against the window. He glanced back up at you, his gaze locked onto your flushed face before he leaned in, pressing a chaste peck on your lips and slumping on the bed next to you.

“Are you feelin’ alright, doll?” Questioned Toji, caressing his fingers against your cheek. You nodded in response, cracking an enormous smile. 

“I feel better than ever,” you said, nuzzling your head into his neck; your arms snaking around his muscular arm. “I loved every moment of it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Toji smirked, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, placing it behind your ear. “Me, too.”

He shortly left the bed, making wide strides towards the washroom –– returning with a towel in his hand. Reaching out for the towel, you were about to thank him but he stopped you; his hands softly pushing you back down on the mattress.

 “Oomph…!” Was the sound you made as your back made contact with the soft mattress, and you snapped your gaze to Toji’s.

“Lemme take care of you, doll. You don’ gotta worry bout anythin’ else.” 

You sighed in relaxation, relishing in the sensations of the soft and warm towel pressed against your skin; cleaning off the sweat and excess juices. “Thank you, Toji.” 

He replied with a low hum, his hands caressing your body in a newfound tenderness. Your heart swelled at the gesture, your lips cracking a soft smile as you continued to watch the older man take good care of you and your worn out body. 

“If you’re not feelin’ too sore yet, care to join me in the shower after this?”

As if all the fatigue had instantly evaporated from your body, you had never uttered yes so fast until this very moment.

EXTRA SCENE — !

NAOYA COULDN’T BELIEVE HIS EYES, his body frozen in place like a deer in headlights as he stared into the small crack of the door of the dressing room, his eyes unable to peer away from the sight of his older cousin fucking his ex-girlfriend like a madman; his flushed ears picking up on the lewd sounds of your stifled mewls paired with the squelching noises of both your bodies connecting together. His mouth was agape, he had never heard you make such a sound — filled with wanton, let alone seen you make an expression so obscenely lewd.

 He glanced down at his own trousers, noticing the ache that was beginning to grow beneath his boxers. Shit.

When he first stumbled across you at his cousin, Zen’in Mai’s wedding reception with Airi clinging closely onto his arm, the last thing he expected was to see you by his cousin’s side  — and what was even more frustrating was how Toji wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side without breaking eye contact. It was almost as if Toji was mocking him, especially with that smug smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. 

No words were exchanged between you and the blond male, there wasn’t any need to. 

Naoya had thought nothing of it, at first. After all, it had been months since you had both taken your separate ways; he immediately made his relationship with his coworker official. Although Airi could be extremely clingy at times, he felt happy — at ease, even. After all, he could finally love his woman out in the open without any more shame. Though, after the initial encounter with you and Toji, he never crossed paths with you again during the reception. He could only stare from the distance, watching you happily chat with both Maki and Mai for a brief moment before he noticed a bright pair of eyes peering at him, and he shifted his gaze onto his girlfriend’s.

An hour had nearly passed, but Naoya was, undeniably, growing the biggest urge to simply walk out of the reception and head on home. While everyone busied themselves on the dance floor, chatting away with the other guests, or getting their nth plate of the night, Naoya had excused himself to the washroom. 

Strolling down the empty hallways, his eyes scanned around the corridor to look for any familiar restroom signs — the blaring music playing that the venue rang in his ears. He stuck his hands into his pocket, feeling the irritation slowly getting to him. But then, all those feelings of growing frustration came to an abrupt halt when he heard your voice and that of another man’s. He lifted his head, tilting it over to the side in curiosity. There was noise coming from the dressing room, the door up ahead, and he could see a little bit of light peeking through the door. 

“Babe,” Naoya could hear your playful whines through the door, “I-I don’t think we should do this here..! What if someone sees us?”

“Then let them see us. This is ya fault ya know?” Toji said, his voice low. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed you sneakin’ around, pressing yer ass against my dick? There’s only so much patience I can take in, doll.”

He could hear you stifle a moan, letting out a sharp gasp as Toji thrusted his hips into yours.

“You dirty girl, look at how yer pussy’s grippin’ so nicely around my cock. You love my cock, dont’cha?”

“Mhm—Ah! Yes, baby!” You moaned pathetically, taking everything within you to control your volume. 

Naoya’s hand immediately slapped over his mouth, feeling the blood rush to his face. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten closer to the door — he could either 1) turn around to leave and return to the reception, or 2) leave to continue searching for the bathroom. Either way, the best course of action was to leave, yet he still found himself standing in front of the door — staring between the small crack in complete awe at the sight before him. 

Toji had you perched up atop the wooden dresser, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips as he slammed his hips into your drenched heat; his hands snaked underneath your dress, squeezing your ass as he pulled you closer unto his cock. You writhed, throwing your head back as you could feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head; your mind was going numb due to the pleasure your older boyfriend was giving you — stretching your pussy out in the most delicious way possible. 

“Y-You’re so fucking big, baby…” You mewled out, a sharp gasp leaving your lips with each thrust he slammed his fat cock into you; evoking obscene noises of your hips meeting each other. “I-I wan’ more, please… baby—!”

His mouth was agape, he had never heard you make such a sound — filled with wanton, let alone seen you make an expression so obscenely lewd; your face all flushed, your eyes clouded in unadulterated lust as drool trickled down your lips. 

 Naoya glanced down at his own trousers, noticing the ache that was beginning to grow between his legs. 

“Shit,” he mumbled out, unable to control the blood rushing to both his face and his erection. He should’ve run away –– he had to, but for some reason his feet stayed planted on the ground and his eyes were unable to look away from the pornographic scene; your hands all tangled up in his older cousin’s raven locks, his lips and tongue messily locked with yours — muffling your needy moans as he continued to fuck you in a relentless pace, the head of his cock kissing your cervix each and every time. 

Each noise that was elicited from your lips sent shocks of arousal straight to his heat, and he gritted his teeth. He knew this was wrong — hell, it even felt wrong. Yet, his feet wouldn’t budge. 

Shiiiiit.

© 6TORU do not copy, repost, or translate my works on any platform. interactions / reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[alastorthirsty]

Hooray For Makeup Sex! - Alastor x f! fallen angel!reader

Request: Hi! I recently read one of your alastor pieces & ohhhh my god! It was amazing. I was wondering if you would do something alastor x f!reader where they have an argument, add some angst, some fluff, some heavy heavy smut? Almost like alastor begging for reader & wanting to do anything for her to forgive him ?? Just a little idea. :) thank you so much for your wonderful work!’

Hey nonnie! I’m absolutely thrilled to fulfill your request. I hope this hits the mark! Let me know if it does! 😘

Word count: 6678

Warnings: established relationship, breakup, angst, fluff, Alastor is a very jealous and possessive but also in love man, thigh riding, (angelic) bloodplay, vaginal intercourse

Please like, comment, and reblog to sustain me! Let me know if you'd like to be on my tag list and remember that requests are open!

‘Sorry’ is not a word in Alastor’s lexicon. He stares at the heatless green fire in front of him, whiskey in one hand, the other tapping against the arm of his chair.

That was Charlie’s unsolicited advice, a rehash of old material. It starts with sorry, Al.

Well, he stubbornly doesn’t believe he’s in the wrong to begin with, so why should he go and grovel at your fucking feet?

‘Sorry’ is not a word in Alastor’s lexicon, and that’s that.

He throws the whiskey across the room suddenly, with such force that the crystal crashes into the opposite wall, forcing him to look at it.

Oh, it’s luxurious. A four poster bed with a white linen canopy. A mattress that adjusts itself to your whims, night by night. Silken sheets in the exact shade of your favourite colour. All of it for your benefit and yours alone—for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t even sleep! He doesn’t need to sleep, he just needs…

Alastor stares at the bed, imagines how he’d sit next to you as you slumbered, glancing over at you occasionally for the sake of your comfort and security. He remembers how you’d snore lightly and how he would push hair out of your face as you snoozed. He remembers smiling…

He remembers smiling.

He also recalls other little activities the two of you got up to in this bed, satisfying a hunger he’d never known before you, but that isn’t something he craves anymore. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

‘Sorry’ isn’t a word in Alastor’s lexicon, even though… even though…

It needs to be.

He sits there thinking of everything from the beginning. The day you first met, all those mysterious luminous creatures floating along, moving your furniture past the lobby. Your soft and kind smile, the one that sickened him at first. That damnable dress you wore the first time the two of you hit the sheets, and how fun it was to rip it off your body. The way his shadow always tried to steal feathers from the wings of your shadow. The first time you yelled at him for that.

He thinks of where things went wrong, the man that caused that incredible din, but the only thing he can think of, if he is finally honest with himself, is himself. His own jealousy, his controlling nature, thinking he knew what was best for you. That was what sparked the argument, wasn’t it?

It his fault, certainly, but ‘sorry’ is not in Alastor’s lexicon, period.

The lilies are still on the bedside table. They are dried, desiccating, the little leaves and petals falling onto the surface. He had gotten the lilies to say ‘sorry’, in his own way, but you never did come back to his room.

He lays back on the bed and plucks a dying lily from the bouquet, keeping it in his hand. It's not difficult to imagine you there beside him, your arms wrapped around him as he presses his face against your shoulder, and oh, that’s when it really hits him.

Your scent. He remembers it so well that he smells it now, a phantom chased by nothing. His eyes close and he rolls until his head meets your pillow, breathing in your scent deeply.

‘Sorry’ is not in his lexicon, but goddamn it, there are lilies.

What would it take, what flowers would fix things, if lilies were not enough? Pink roses? White orchids? Tulips? A hundred dozen daffodils, flooding the entire hotel?

Alastor notices now how his hands are shaking at his sides. He clenches his claws into fists and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent again. The best thing to do is to incinerate the pillow, the bed, the lilies…

No, no. His jaw tightens. No, that would be the easy thing to do. Not the best, or even the smartest. It was the cowardly thing to do.

‘Sorry’ is not in Alastor’s lexicon, but he’s no fucking coward.

He can almost hear your voice in his ears, whispering his name with such sweet affection. He remembers your laugh, a sound like music to him. A laugh reserved for him and him alone. Something special.

He's never needed anyone else's company before. He never bothered with the emotional needs of other people. You’re the only person he's ever cared for, the only person who has ever truly meant anything to him. He feels weak and vulnerable over your absence. He doesn't like feeling like this, but you’re the one woman that can break down his walls.

Alastor doesn't like needing you, he doesn't like letting you have this power over him. But at this moment, he doesn't care. He'd give anything to just hear your voice again, even if it’s just to yell at him and tell him to fuck off.

Again.

The sound of your voice, the way you looked into his eyes, your little imperfections that only served to make you all the more perfect in his eyes. He remembers how your lips felt against his skin, the soft warmth of your touch.

He doesn’t like to need you, but he does love it.

He opens his eyes, clutching the now withered flower so tightly that all but a few brown petals fall from the stem. He stares at it for a long moment, trying not to let the memories overwhelm him. A green fire erupts from his palm, scorching it first, then turning it to ash. He stares at it, the lightness of it in his palm.

He's always had such strict control over himself, even under stress or grief, but not anymore. Not when it comes to you. You’ve always been able to cause feelings of weakness and helplessness within him. He hates himself for feeling this way, but at the same time, he can't bring himself to hate you. No, never you.

He closes his eyes again, imagining you lying beside him. You would have wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips to the side of his neck. Sometimes, you’d start leaving the tiniest of kisses down his neck. It would make him shiver, it would make him…

Just like that first night when things turned physical. Your hands would always find a way under his shirt, running your fingers over the muscles of his chest and stomach, your fingers tracing reverently over his scars.

He can almost feel the softness of your skin, the warmth of your body.

Alastor sighs in consideration of his current position. One of, if not the most powerful Overlord of hell, lying in a bed he does not need, pining after a fallen angel who once (admittedly, accidentally) broke a horn off his shadow. He breathes in your scent again. A fallen angel who made his mama’s jambalaya for him. A fallen angel who was never once intimidated by him. A fallen angel who created life, “along a certain slant of light”, as you put it, most of them visible only to you, except for shimmers of light, like oil on water.

A fallen angel who wouldn’t speak to him even if he said sorry.

Alastor sighs, sits up, holding her pillow like a child holding a fucking teddy bear.

“Fuck.”

He smacks himself on the forehead and drags his hand down his face.

“Fuck.”

He says it again, getting a taste of the word, the pride of it in its coarse formation and meaning.

Alastor sighs, holding the pillow, looking at the bouquet of dead lilies. “Fuck.”

He wants to feel the softness of your lips again. To feel the warmth of your skin, the press of your body against his. But more than anything, he wants to hear you laugh again. He wants that beautiful smile back, the smile you give to him and only him.

But he doubts that will happen. You’ve probably already moved on from him, and honestly, he wouldn't blame you for doing so. Well, that’s a lie.

He knows he's difficult, and demanding—sometimes too demanding. You’ve always been far more patient with him than anyone else, but even that has its limits. And he's certainly pushed those limits.

You’re probably in the arms of some other man right now, maybe even him, laughing as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. You probably don’t even think about Alastor anymore.

‘Sorry’ may not be in his fucking lexicon, but like hell he’d ever allow another man into your bed, and certainly not…him.

Alastor makes sure he’s impeccable before riding the dark to your room. He decides it would be a rather stupid idea to appear inside your room without permission, so he settles on the hallway and knocks on your door.

“Come in!”

The sound is muffled, and he feels the sharp need to lecture you on not checking who is at the door before letting them in, but he refrains. He turns the doorknob and walks into your room for the first time in a while and finds you—

Down on the floor, halfway underneath the bed.

“This seems like a cliche pornographic film,” he comments as he shuts the door.

Herbert, the only one of the little light creatures that he can see, floats towards him.

You try to sit up right when you hear Alastor’s voice, banging your head. You get out from under the bed and stand up.

“Herbert, leave him alone,” you say.

“Nonsense! Hello little creature,” Alastor says to the glowing bastard he had tolerated at best before the breakup. He summons up an apple for the mischievous little son of a bitch to snack on and Herbert quickly zips away with it, disappearing under the bed.

“How did you know that being stuck is a porn cliche?” you ask, sitting on the edge of the bed, your arms crossed. “Been watching a lot of it lately?”

“I think you know that I have not,” Alastor says, leaning forward on his staff. “We just so happen to live with an adult film star who tries to pull the ‘help me I’m stuck’ routine on Husker at least twice per week. What were you doing under the bed, darling?”

“Herbert! He’s been stealing from me,” you say. “I knew I didn’t lose those emerald earrings you gave me. I found those and then some in his little nest under the bed.”

He can’t help but swell with pride. One of his favourite things to do was present you with gifts and he loved seeing them on you every time.

“What do you want?” you ask, and that deflates him a bit.

Alastor takes a breath, his chest rising. “I need you to instruct me in something.”

“Go ask literally anyone else.” You open up the door, gesturing for him to leave, but with a bit of boldness Alastor flicks the door closed again.

“I’m afraid there’s no one better to ask than you, my dear.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alastor, I broke up with you so I wouldn’t have to deal with things like this anymore.”

Alastor pauses for a time. Honesty tumbles its way past his lips. “You are all that I love.”

The room goes silent, save for the sound of Herbert cronching his apple.

You give a sigh, a pained expression on your face, one that he hates to see. All of him wants to go to you, but you wouldn’t want that—not yet.

“Goddamn it,” you whisper. “Is that what you needed instruction for?”

“No,” he says immediately. “No, loving you needs no instruction.”

You let out a breath. That’s all you can do before your head is in your hands.

“My dear, may I sit beside you?” Alastor asks after a moment’s silence.

“Oh, fuck you!” You stand up and circle around him once. “Fuck you, Alastor!”

His eyebrows rise. “That is not the response that I anticipated or desired.”

“Oh it’s not?” you ask mockingly.

He’s never seen you act like this before, and it is surprising him. An unseen variable, one that choked him. His grip on his staff increases.

“My dear, I sense that you still harbour quite a lot of animus—“

“Shut up! Shut up!” You pace back and forth the length of the rug, also a gift from him. “Fuck you! Fuck you for saying the right things the wrong time!”

Alastor takes a chance and sits down on your bed, watching you closely. “Do you want more earrings?”

You immediately go to your armoire and start throwing jewellery at him. He’s quite literally stunned by this behaviour. Herbert comes out from underneath the bed and snipes a few rings.

“Darling.”

You say nothing, you just keep throwing things at him.

“Darling.”

“Just take it. Take it all back. Give it to someone else.”

Now he looks offended and straightens his posture. You run out of jewellery to throw at him.

“You know there can be no other,” he says, somewhat angry. “You know I’m not capable of having any such enjoyment with anyone else. You are all I love and all that I desire to love. All I can love. There’s none but you and nothing will ever compare, never come close. Do you understand?”

“Then keep them for yourself. Or let Herbert have it all, enable his fucking kleptomania.”

“They belong to you and you will have them. Every last jewel.”

“Alastor, you shouldn’t be here,” you say.

“That is a consideration I undertook before coming.” He leaves his staff on the bed and goes to you. “I need your instruction.”

“On what?” you snap.

He lets out a deep breath. “How many lilies will it take to be forgiven?”

You stare at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Forget the lilies then,” he says quickly. “Just disregard the matter of florals altogether. What token is needed?”

“Token?”

“It doesn’t need to be a physical object, not a coin one inserts into a slot in exchange for heroin or soda,” he says quickly. “I am explaining myself poorly. I’ll be truthful and direct, if you will allow me.”

Your arms cross again, a defensive posture. “Okay.”

“I need you. I don’t know how to be without you anymore. It’s maddening. I find myself missing you in all these vacant spaces that were not vacant before you. You created space in me that only you can fill, and now it is…empty. You made me this way, and it is your fault,” he says quickly. “And what am I to do, now? Accept that I am now empty? Accept that I will walk through eternity alone, with all this space within me, space that you and you alone can occupy?”

“And you hate it, don’t you Alastor? And you hate me for it.”

“I considered that,” he admits. “I tried to insist it to myself, that I did not need such adulations and that I didn’t need you, specifically. I tried not to need you, but your absence insisted upon you. I do not hate you. Nothing could force me to feel that way, not myself, not you, not Herbert.”

“Herbert?”

“Correct. Herbert.”

You sit down beside his staff, touch the microphone knowing you were the only person ever allowed to do so. You sigh. “I love you, too. And just like you, I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I know exactly what to do with it,” he responds.

“Yeah?”

Alastor nods. “We just…go back to before. Move forward. But together. I would sooner die than see you with another man.”

You lift a warning finger to him. “You’re not helping yourself.”

Alastor huffs. “It is the truth. You value honesty as well as I do.”

Now you scoff. “You deal in subterfuge, not honesty.”

“Not with you, and you know that,” he says, pointing at you. “I am a flawed man, but I’ve given you my very best. Better than I thought I had capacity for. Can you truly say that it was never enough?”

“Of course it was,” you say softly.

Alastor sighs and sits beside you. He thinks to put an arm around you, but manages not to.

“You are so used to getting everything you want,” you say. “You have the power to get whatever you want except me.”

He winces. “Please do not put it that way, darling. Please don’t say…we’ll never find a way. Please.”

Slowly, you reach over and touch his hand. When it curls together with his fingers, he places his other hand firmly on top, squeezing.

“Four hundred.”

He waits for you to explain, but you don’t.

“Four hundred what, dearest?” he asks.

You look at him and smile. “Four hundred lilies.”

Alastor snaps his fingers and four hundred lilies arrange themselves in vases on top of every surface in the room. Smelling them, Herbert whooshed out from underneath the bed and floated all along the flowers, playing with the tiny white bells in a way that Alastor could admit might be considered ‘cute’ by others. He looks back to you.

“Do you want to count them all, darling?” he asks.

“I don’t need to,” you say softly. “I feel like I should tell you something.”

“I do not like that,” Alastor says immediately. “I do not like the sound of that. Is it him?”

“Don’t bring this full circle to the last argument,” you warn. “There is no other man. I just thought…you really came in here and said things that I didn’t think you could. You really laid it all on the line and I feel like you deserve the same from me.”

Alastor nods along slowly. “No other man?”

You shake your head. “No other men. Will you stop? Will you please stop? Will you let me talk now?”

“I suppose,” he says, pulling you closer. He settles so that his head rests against your chest. “I am listening.”

“It’s not exactly easy for me to open up either,” you say before clearing your throat. “There’s a wealth of differences between us but similarities that are significant. We both struggle with making space for other people in our lives and typically won’t.”

“That is true,” he says, fingers running along your shoulder.

You start to play with his hair, the fuck-ass bob you only came to love because it was his preference. You’re tempted to touch one of his ears, but now’s not the time for that.

“Sometimes it’s simply hard to believe that there’s this perfect person that really…loves me,” you say softly, quietly, almost wishing that you hadn’t.

Alastor tightens his hold on you. Neither of you could handle personal vulnerability quite so easily, but yours makes his heart clench. “Do I make you feel…less loved when we argue over other men?”

You sigh. “Alastor, it’s not just an argument about men, it’s you basically calling me a whore—“

“No, I didn’t,” he interjects quickly. “No. I have never called you that or thought it of you. You are my favourite, my treasure, my prize, and I would never think so lowly of you. Never, not in all of eternity until what you call ‘the inevitable heat-death of the universe’. I would argue that heaven and hell are a different universe but that is yet another argument we should never cross again.”

“Agreed,” you say, nodding your head. “Just like the argument about—“

“Horses running on their fingers, I know.” Alastor can’t help the fondness in his smile. No matter how heated the arguments, the passion between the two of you manifests itself in all ways possible.

You smile back at him and decide to take the chance to kiss him again. Just once. Just to show him he was still loved, cherished, longed for. It was only right.

Alastor cups the back of your head to keep you there. Fuck once, now that he’s gotten to kiss you he chooses to interpret it as carte blanche to take as many as he wants. Damn, how he had missed this…

You gently remove his hand and pull away. “I’m not done speaking.”

“Apologies,” he mutters.

You nod and continue. “I want to be the one you love. I want to be the only one you love, just as much as you want to be the only one that I love. You just can’t treat me like a soul that you own.”

Alastor’s eyes widen at that. Had he really…?

He looks you dead in the eye. “If I ever do that again, correct me with a good slap.”

You shake your head. “No. I won’t lay my hands on you with anything but affection and…shall we say, intimacy.”

“Intimacy,” he repeats, and almost moans then and there. It has been…too long.

“I know,” you say. “I know.”

“Will you ever be…comfortable with the idea of it again?” Alastor asks.

“I’ve practically undressed you with my eyes since you came in here.”

He goes to make a move but you rebuff him once more, sitting up in the bed. “The fact remains that I am hurt by you when you start questioning me about the attentions of other men, attentions that I do not notice more often than not, if they exist at all. Especially not from him. I keep telling you, he does not look at me that way, he doesn’t think of me that way.”

He nods several times in thought before sitting up beside you, turning to face you. “I am afraid.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve seen him express all sorts of emotions in front of you before but never, not once, had even alluded to fear.

“W-why?” you ask with a bare whisper.

“I’m not a good man, and you know that. You know what I do almost better than anyone else. You are too good for me, therefore I fear another man will come along, catch your fancy, and leave me with the choice of either killing him and devastating you or simply languishing in my own self-pity. Why are you so far?”

(Obviously he would kill the other man.)

Alastor drags you into his lap and you give no resistance. He holds you tight, intending to never let go, not now when there was a chance.

You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe him in. You’ve missed his scent, too.

“I’m not too good for you,” you mutter against his neck. “And I won’t hear of it. Understood?”

He smiles begrudgingly. “Fine. You will have it as you wish, my dear.”

“So,” you say. “What now?”

“Move forward,” he says again. “Be with me again. Allow me to present you with jewels. I will…continue to put up with that little abomination eating the lilies.”

You gasp and look towards Herbert. You clap your hands together loudly. “Herbert! No! They might be poisonous to you, and besides, they’re mommy’s!”

Alastor can’t help himself but laugh. “Mommy’s, you say?”

“I made him, I’m mommy!”

Maybe…maybe it was possible. You’re not a sinner, after all, and Charlie does exist…

Maybe he can give you fawns, bond you to him for all eternity, heat-death of the universe be damned.

Alastor chuckles, lets that thought slide by (for now). He whisks the lilies away before the little bastard can make himself sick and throws another apple at him. Herbert gasps softly, takes it, and back under the bed he goes.

“See?” Alastor says. “I am suitable.”

You smile at him softly. “Promise?”

“Yes, dear. I do promise. There are many things I can’t. We will continue to argue over pointless things, that’s already in the cards. We will bump heads and piss each other off. I will be jealous, I will certainly be possessive, but I will never express it to you in a way that makes you feel like a harlot. And I will try not to over-analyse every interaction with him. Perhaps I will never express it at all, that would be best, I know…

“And I will fail. And you will, too. We will have our… fuck-ups, as you often call them. However, for all the fuck-ups we ever had before, not a moment passed when I did not know that I loved you. You created space in me, made my lungs full. I cannot be without you now, and I think you…I think that you are the same. I hope you are the same.” He pauses. “Please, darling.”

You kiss him, and in that he understands your acceptance of this. Of him, his words, the explicit and implicit promises. Words were difficult sometimes.

He grabs you tightly and rides the dark to his bedroom, to the bed he made for you.

You break the kiss with an air of incredulity. “You know I hate when you shadow whoosh me!”

“And you know I have exactly one rule about where we are intimate.”

You sigh. “Not above Herbert’s nest.”

“Indeed. Not above Herbert’s nest.”

“And who said anything about being intimate?” you ask, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

He smirks. “There she is.”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” you say.

He grins, his eyes burning with a dark, sinful desire as he responds huskily, his lips against your ear. “Ah, my love, I want to do everything to you. I want to touch you, taste you, explore every inch of you until nothing exists to either of us except each other. I want to hear you moan and gasp my name, to make you feel things you've never felt before.”

You give him a wicked smile. “We should do that.”

He grows in agreement, his eyes burning with need and desire as he responds in a low, guttural voice. “We absolutely should. We will. I’m going to explore every inch of you, to make you feel things you've only dreamed of. Are you ready for that, my love?

He pulls you so that your back is snug against his chest, not a bit of space between your bodies. His clawed fingertips run from your knee all the way to your hip. He can hear that little gasp you try to hide, can feel that little shiver. The hem of your dress hiked up, his hand moves to cup your mound. He smirks to himself when he feels you rub against it.

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it. He rubs against your underwear for a few moments, allowing you to rock your hips against his hand, and oh, there it was again. Control. Control over you, the greatest prize of all, and you gave it to him so willingly.

His hand slides his hand inside your silken undergarments easily—ones that he bought for you. It’s gratifying as hell, almost as good as feeling your slick folds against his fingers. He blunts his fingertips and rubs against you.

Alastor’s teeth catch on your neck and he’s more than tempted to bite down, but not just yet. You moan and he relishes it.

“You like that?” he murmurs against your ear. “You love it, don’t you? Being a good girl for me.” Alastor uses his free arm to wrap around your hips to stop you from moving. “Now, be very good.”

You give a soft little whimper when he won’t let you move anymore, knowing you’re at his mercy when he’s in a mood like this. Fingers slide inside of you, his thumb rubbing over your clit.

“Be still, and be quiet,” he instructs, smiling against your ear.

He can sense the struggle almost as soon as he says it. That little tremble in your thighs. The hand that shoots up to cover your mouth.

“Oh, no dear,” Alastor says, pushing it away with his free hand. ”Don’t test me again. No cheating, no tricks. No magic, no power. Only me.”

Listening to you trying to contain all your little sounds is priceless. Alastor knows how to play your body like a Stradivarius. His fingers move lower, deeper.

“Who makes you feel like this?” he asks, sucking a dark mark against your neck.

You’re not sure if it’s a trick or not until his little ministrations pause, causing you to whimper again. “You!”

“Atta girl,” he says affectionately. “You’re so wet for me.”

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, his chin rubbing against your neck as he kisses and teases you. "My love, I can feel. You like it, don't you? You like how I can make you fall apart in my hands, helpless to my touch."

He bites your neck softly, his teeth scraping against your skin.

You take a few shaky breaths. “Am I allowed to speak now?”

Alastor pauses, as if deliberating, and the lack of movement in his fingers is excruciating. Your pussy throbs at the loss, clenching around them, and you’re near the point of begging.

“No,” he says momentarily. “No, you are not allowed to speak yet. Good of you to ask, darling, but now is the time for you to listen, not to speak. Now, stand up.”

Confused, you manage to get up from his lap and stand one rubbery legs before him. Your eyes give the inquiry your lips cannot.

Alastor parts his knees wide and pulls you to straddle one of his thighs.

Oh!

Your cheeks warm and your jaw opens slightly. You almost shake your head, but Alastor reaches for your chin and holds it between his fingers. With his other hand, he grabs one of your hips and forces you to start moving, the grind against your wet, clothed pussy causing you to gasp.

“I’ve missed you in more ways than one,” he says, slapping you on the ass to encourage to ride his thigh on your own.

“It was my own fault, I know that,” he continues, and places both hands on your hips to support you as you move. “I was insane with jealousy, yes, and that is also my own fault. I cannot tolerate the mere notion that someone else would get to see you…like this. You are so very beautiful, darling. You are so very, very much mine.”

He could never let anyone else have you. He knew that he never would. Surprisingly, his possessive words seem to make you grind harder against him, your hips working more quickly. Alastor welcomes this with a grin.

“Ah, my dear.” His hands move from your waist to your ass, squeezing, making you moan for him again. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let you fall. Come for me.”

Still unsure if you’re allowed to make any sound, you bite down on your lip hard, your eyes on his when a little golden rivulet drips from your poor, abused lip.

With a growl, Alastor lunges at you, though you are still in his lap. You fall down to the rug and he’s on top of you, licking up every trace of golden blood. Nothing could ever compare to it, he’d once said, and it turns him feral every single time he sees it or smells it. He kisses you, gently sucking at that tiny wound until it closes way too soon and his fist pounds the floor in anger. He raises his head, looks at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay, okay, but in bed,” you say.

Alastor picks you up quickly and tosses you onto it. He takes off his coat and throws it across the room. His bow tie is next, but you hold your hands out.

“Wait!” You say, reaching for him. “The shirt is my job.”

He grunts in his feral state, but he allows it, and soon his shirt is off and on the floor, forgotten.

“Where?” he asks raggedly.

“Where do you want?” you ask with a shrug. “This is your thing, but I’m happy to oblige. A bit. Not enough to make me dizzy.”

Permission granted, Alastor falls on top of you and goes straight for the jugular, literally. Just some sharp teeth and bam. He was drinking golden blood straight out of your neck, and you gave him the extra sensory delight of playing with his ears while he did so. He’s moaning, again and again, and you can feel how hard he is, pressed up against your body.

Eventually you decide he’s had enough and push his head away gently. Alastor kisses you instead, still giving animalistic energy, and rips away every article of clothing that separates you.

You can taste your own blood on his lips.

Somehow in this state Alastor remembers that he told you to come but didn’t let you and he quickly works to remedy that. His fingers enter you again. He knows your body well, he knows how to make you come in moments and you do, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Alastor finally leans back to look at the wreck he’s made of you and he smirks.

He holds one of your thighs against his waist and enters you fast, all at once, and the pace he sets is equally feral. Any time your blood came into the mix he truly could not help himself. His strokes are hard, deep, enough to make your knees wobble.

You hear him take a deep inhale and look up at him.

“My darling, the way you react to me, the way you react…Fit so perfectly, like your cunt was made just for my use.” Alastor bites at your neck again, but he won’t try to draw blood.

You grab one of the pillows and put it underneath your hips. This was an especially careful operation, considering how he was pounding you, but it tilted your hips and allowed for a more delicious angle.

Alastor’s clawed hand grabs your other thigh and squeezes hard. “What do you think, darling? Do you think this pretty little pussy was made for me?”

You nod several times, finding it harder and harder to catch your breath, but he’s without mercy this time. “Jesus…”

“Not an acceptable response, dearest,” he says with a little groan of exertion. He squeezes your thigh again. “Now, I believe I asked you a question. There’s only one correct answer, so give it to me.”

The sheets twist beneath your hands. There’s a decision to be made. Be forthwith and tell him yes or tease him until he’s out of his right mind.

“Damn it, darling,” he says impatiently.

You smirk. Let the teasing begin. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Alastor’s claws on your thigh almost drew more golden blood.

“You asked if my pussy was made just for you,” you say, your words coming out through pants because of his force.

His antlers grew larger, longer. His glare was menacing. His voice was dark.

“Then I suppose I must show you.”

The bed began to shake, and his tone shifted.

“Ah, my sweet darling, what I want to do to you right now is beyond description. I want to feel your softness, your warmth, your very essence against me, writhing under my touch. I want to take you, claim you, make you mine completely, with no doubting.”

“And how will you do that?” you ask playfully.

His hands grip you tighter, pulling you completely against him. He leans in, his lips trailing along your neck, his voice a low, dark growl in your ear.

“How will I do that, my sweet darling? I'm going to make you feel so good, make you scream from the pleasure of it. I'm going to kiss you, and touch you, and taste you, until you're so lost in pleasure you don't remember your own name or where you are.”

Your breath comes more and more harshly. “Did you soundproof the room?”

He gives you a look of pure incredulity. “Of course the room is soundproof! These precious little moans and gasps, they’re all mine, understand? Only I get to hear them, they belong to me!”

“Yes, yes!” You gulp for air.

“You do things to me, darling,” he says, “things that drive me absolutely wild. Your touch, your scent, your responsiveness, it all makes me ache and desperate for you. And you know it, don’t you?”

“I do my best.” You wink up at him. “Out of curiosity…what do I smell like?”

Alastor growls. “Ah, darling, you smell simply divine. I can't get enough of your soft, sweet scent. You smell like honey, like flowers, like the fresh air of a sunny day. It's intoxicating and completely addictive. I can't get enough of it, and I can't get enough of you. There will never be enough.”

“Keep me,” you whisper.

“Oh, darling,” he says. “Let there be no doubt in that. Yes, you're all mine. Mine to touch, mine to kiss, mine to have. I'm going to make sure you never forget that, darling. You're mine. Do you understand that?”

His hand comes up to gently squeeze at your throat, a warning.

You swallow, knowing he could feel every movement, and nod. “Yes, Alastor! Yes!”

His grip on your throat softens somewhat. “You just love to be under my control, don’t you?”

“I love being at your mercy,” you say with a moan.

“Is that so?” There’s a grin on his face that presses against his voice, dark and velvet. “And why is that? Tell me.”

Your eyes flutter closed. “Because I’m the only one safe at your mercy.”

“You’re right about that,” he says, pushing your thigh higher against your chest. “Look at you. Hair all mussed, lip swollen, bruises on your throat. And I did all of it. Tell me, darling. Tell me.”

“You did it. You did all of this to me, you’re the only one I want…”

That was what he truly wanted to hear, you knew. His jealousy is a problem and in all likelihood will continue to manifest itself, but at the root of it he just wanted to be the only one you had an appetite for. He fucks you harder and harder until you start screaming for him.

“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing at your clit now. “Go on, make all of those beautiful, lascivious noises for me…”

You huff and gasp for breath. “Alastor, please, please let me come!”

He chuckles. “Yes, darling. That is the goal.”

When it hits you, you gasp first. Your hips grind against his, moving through it, along it, until it’s just too much—

But Alastor doesn’t stop. He holds you down, fucks you harder, draws it out for as long as he can. He smirks down at you as you shake for what he is doing to you—for you. His thumb circles your clit one last time before he’s finally merciful.

“So tight for me, darling,” he says, sucking the words between his teeth. It’s almost more than he can take, and he knows that it’s coming fast. He just…he needs something first.

He speaks in a gentler tone now, watching the bulge in your stomach move as he fucks you. “Darling…"

You’re still gasping for breath. “Yeah, honey? What is it?”

“Promise me that I’m…enough.”

“Enough?” You laugh, a raspy sound. “You’re too fucking much.”

Alastor lets out a gravelly moan, its intensity changing the pitch. You could almost swear that you can feel his cum inside you, all white and hot. When he finally stops moving, he leans against your thigh, chasing his breath.

“Bravo,” you say, putting your arms around him when he lays down beside you.

"I thought perhaps I had pleased you," he says, shuddering when you rub the base of his ears.

You laugh softly, breath finally caught. "Reconciled?"

Alastor nods. "Indeed. We are reconciled. If...you'll have me, anyway."

"I think that I will," you say, and from the corner of your eye, you see something on the wall and sit straight up, pointing. "That son of a bitch shadow of yours is stealing my feathers again!"

The smiling spectre flaunts his new feather and cuddles closer to your shadow. Maybe they were reconciled, as well.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 10: The One About the Audibly Loud Lukola FanFic

I’ll address the elephant in the room. And, no, I’m not talking about Jake Dunn’s brown suit! Or, that he’s posing with a man. Or, that Tyler commented “Bellissimo!!!!” on Jake's post.

I don’t think a lot of people understood the connection I was making this morning about “Mis-Directed,” Gwilym Lee, and Jake.  So, now I feel the need to explain because I don’t want people running with a narrative that goes in the opposite direction of where I was taking it.

Sorry, JVN, you’re getting pushed to the side again. I promise, I’ll get to you one day.

Let’s go back two months…

On September 25, Nicola posted to her Instagram stories a link to Alex Babsky’s post, which was a picture of Nicola. She had her hair and make-up done but she was wearing one of her own dresses (the black dress she wore in Australia and Brazil). Babsky captioned his post “[pink bow] @nicolacoughlan in London today for…well, never mind what for actually [laughing emoji with hand over mouth] [winking emoji] [shushing emoji].” Nicola responded, “You’re amazing it was so gorgeous to see you xxx.”

Babksy’s caption sent the fandom into hysteria wondering what the hell Nicola was up to. It didn’t help that this was the same day Luke updated his Instagram bio and used “Xx” and it didn’t help that Nicola was wearing the black dress she allegedly wore on her beach walk in Brazil with Luke.

Do you want to know what I thought the photo of Nicola was from? I’m not going to lie – I thought it was pre-wedding makeup. Seriously, not kidding. It reminded me of my own wedding day. Formal hair and makeup and my own dress that was easy to take off without messing up the hair and makeup. I never said I wasn’t a little bit delulu.

On November 5, an author named Lucy Parker announced on her Instagram feed that she had a new Audible book called “Mis-Directed” being released in February 2025. The post came with pictures of Nicola wearing the black dress and the same hair and makeup as the September 25 post. Nicola (presumably) is reading the part of Hattie Murton, and Gwilym Lee (presumably) is reading the part of Anthony Rafe.

Oh, okay.

Turns out, I was wrong.

So, Nicola and Luke didn’t get married.

Fine.

I have always liked crows.

But, wait a minute – what the fuck is this Audible book about? A woman who stars in a romantic drama called “Leicester Square” (what the fuck?) which was adapted from a best-selling romance novel (what the fuck??). Then, in comes our antagonist, Anthony Rafe, who plays opposite of Hattie and, let me quote here, “But when very real chemistry sparks during their scripted love scenes, Hattie begins to think the industry’s legendarily heartless Bad Guy [Anthony] might just a have a pulse after all. And Anthony, for his part, is caught off-guard by the way his heart races when he’s around his aggravating onscreen lover. As reality starts to imitate art a little too close for comfort, the world’s most unlikely couple might just have more in common than they thought…” (what the fuck???).

Let’s start with Leicester Square. What the hell is Leicester Square? Oh, the name of the fake television show on which Hattie and Anthony star. Sure, Jan. Is it odd to anyone else that Leicester Square is the name of the location of where the London premiere of Bridgerton Season 3 took place? You know, the event that happened hours before Papsmear.

Then we have the make-believe show being adapted from a best-selling romance novel. Mmm hmm.

Let’s try and not make the connection between Luke and Anthony. Mmm hmm.

And, let’s add fuel to the fire and have two co-stars falling in love with each other.

Yeah, we get it. It’s a Lukola FanFic being read by none other than Nicola. I mean, the only way it could be any better is if Luke was reading the part of Anthony Rafe! But, no, that part is being read by Gwilym Lee (who is fantastic in everything he does, by the way).

Who is Gwilym Lee? Well, he’s an actor (my father calls him “Midsomer”). Ask Mr. Google about him. But, if you check out his Instagram feed, you will find that he knows Jake and has since, at least, 2022. Is it possible that Nicola met Gwilym through Jake? Yeah, it is.

Now, why do I find this situation intriguing? Specifically, why did I find the post from Jake this morning posing with Gwilym interesting (and a bit shady)? Let me explain.

The Jakholes took the “Mis-Directed” FanFic as shade towards the Lukolas. Yes, they went there because that FanFic does not (in the least) fit nicely into their Jakola narrative. I mean, if it wasn’t shade to the Lukolas, how weird the storyline must have been for Jake! The writing was audibly on the wall, in big red letters, but the Jakholes chose to spin it into something messier than my hair in the morning after sleeping on it wet.

What exactly is this theory? Well, per the Jakholes, Nicola hates the Lukola fandom so much that she sat and read (likely, for hours) this Lukola-coded FanFic just to spite us! I mean, Anthony is a bad boy in this story and “everyone loves to hate” him (don’t forget, Luke became the devil incarnate after Papsmear). And, Hattie is tired of the “brutal press, overly invested fans, and a cutthroat industry…[that] would give even Pollyanna an edge of cynicism.” The Jakholes believe this means Nicola is saying she’s really in love with Jake and she wants us all to know that by reading a Harlequin-style romance about a woman who falls in love with her costar! Oh, my God!! How could she?!

What in the actual fuck are the Jakholes drinking with this bullshit? I know, I know. I shouldn’t expect anything better from people who ship Jake with Nicola. In fact, if I was a Jakhole, I might buy into this conspiracy theory. But, I’m not a fucking Jakhole. And, guess what Jakholes? I don’t mind breaking the hearts of Lukolas by saying we’re probably never going to see sexy-hot Brazil pictures of Luke and Nicola, so I don’t mind telling Jakholes to put this theory back into Davy Jones’ locker and feed it to that bitch Kraken.

Let’s talk a bit further about the absurdity of this “Nicola is shading Lukola” subplot from Hell.

We will pretend Nicola hates Luke. She hates Lukola. She baits the Lukola fandom for shits and giggles.

What would this make Nicola?

It would make her a villain, for starters (and “villain” is me being extremely nice).

More importantly, it would make Nicola a PR nightmare.

Even if Nicola and Luke despised each other, do you believe Netflix, Bridgerton, and Shonda Land would allow Nicola to play games with the Lukola fandom? Talk about playing with fire!

The reality is the lines between Polin and Lukola are heavily blurred at this point. I hate to say it – and maybe a lot of you will view me as a complete asshole after I say this – but, if I learned Nicola was shading the Lukolas (therefore, in my opinion, trolling Luke), I would not be interested in Bridgerton Season 4. Or, Season 5. Or, any season after that. Or, in Nicola, for that matter. You’re welcome to have your own opinion about this but I would feel incredibly betrayed, and not just by Nicola. On top of that, for me, Polin has become Lukola. They’re so blurred, they don’t even resemble a line anymore. Maybe that’s a bad position to be in, but that’s where I’m at. Sorry, not sorry.

I’m not going to rehash the breadcrumbs left by Nicola that support Lukola – if you know, you know (or you can catch up by spending an afternoon on Tumblr). Even Luke, in his own way, leaves Lukola-coded crumbs. We also have damn convincing evidence that Netflix, Bridgerton, and Shonda Land support Lukola. I mean, even they’re blurring the lines with “Nicola and Luke’s Cutest Moments” and interestingly timed images of Polin. So, do you think they’re going to let Nicola fuck with that on a public forum?

That would be a cold, hard NO.

But, this Audible book – “Mis-Directed” – is loud and made louder because Nicola is reading it.

So, what is this Audible book? Shade? Or, Nicola being cutesy? I’m going to place my bets on the latter solely because, like I said, the Corporate Office is not going to let Nicola shade Lukola because it has a direct effect on Polin.

That’s not to say that the excitement of this Lukola-coded “Mis-Directed” FanFic wasn’t attacked by the Jakholes from all sides, and the wind – for the moment – was kicked out of it. That’s a different story for a different day.

But, what I found so intriguing about Jake’s post today is that, of all the people he could have included in his photo (because there’s obviously lots of people at this event), he chose Gwilym. And, this means people will look into Gwilym. People will realize that Gwilym is the other side of “Mis-Directed.” People will realize Jake and Gwilym are friends. People will realize that Jake’s friend is reading a Lukola-themed romance novel with Nicola.

And, if we agree that the book is not shade towards the Lukolas and we agree that Jakola is not real, what is the significance of the connection between Jake and Gwilym? Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m overthinking it. But, the connection – at least in my mind (and it’s been there since November 5) – is that Jake supports “Mis-Directed” because he supports Lukola and he has always been there, helping Nicola lay the breadcrumbs. He wanted people to look into Gwilym and make the connection. Jake could very well be the one who suggested Gwilym read the part of Anthony. Jake is the degree of separation.

I want to close this out by noting that Jake also liked the post Nicola has pinned on her Instagram grid – the black and white one about her Time 100 article. You know, the one where Nicola says, “A lot of people really want me to marry Luke.” Follow the links and it will take you to this article. That’s an interestingly placed like by Jake, in my opinion – as is his photo op with Gwilym.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 17

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16

Eddie’s back to school on Tuesday, black eye turning a mottled sort of green, lip scabbed over. From where he’s hemmed in by Robin and Chrissy, Steve watches Eddie catch a glimpse of him and bolt the other way.

Jeff sighs, lets go of his hold on Chrissy’s arm, and says, “sorry, Steve. I’m just gonna—” and then he points toward Eddie and follows after him without another word.

Steve’s gut clenches with guilt. He’d put that look on Eddie’s face, had caused the rift in his and Jeff’s friendship, had split the forming group up with his ridiculous crush. But Chrissy and Robin are still here, standing by his side.

“Are he and Jeff okay?” Steve asks, biting his lip as he glances at Chrissy.

“I think so,” she says, looking after her boyfriend. “They talked on the phone, but Jeff didn’t tell me what about.”

“Forget about them,” Robin replies, reaching out to take his hand even as it makes everyone around them stare. “Come on, Stevie, or we’ll be late to Ms. Clickity Clack’s class.”

Steve passes the rest of the day in a daze, the spot at his side a revolving cast of Chrissy, Robin, and Jeff, like they’d all talked behind his back and decided he couldn’t be trusted with being alone right now. Steve can’t blame them because as soon as he’s left unattended in his big empty house, he gets out his notebook and pen, and begins to write.

   Eddie —

   I’m sorry I never got to read your last letter, but it wasn’t for me anyways. Maybe none of them were, not really. And I’m sorry about that, even sorrier about how your pretty face got caught in the ceasefire. I’m just full of sorries I’m to scared to tell to your face—from the way you ran when you saw me in the hallway this morning, maybe you wouldn’t want me to anyway.

   You’ve always been the brave one, so you must really want to not see me, huh? I hope you and Jeff are friends again. I’m sorry about that too, I’m the one who asked him not to tell you. I was afraid, but that’s no excuse.

   I don’t know how to stop wanting to right write to you. I can’t turn off the part of me that still wants to know everything about you. There’s a whole in my heart, and I keep trying to find people to fill it, but I can never be in love with someone who loves me back. You know?

   I’m sorry, Eddie. Maybe someday, I’ll get to say it to your face.

   Sorry,

   Steve

He closes the notebook on the damning words and shoves it into his nightstand so he doesn’t have to look at it. Sleep doesn’t come—the house is too quiet. He grabs the phone off his dresser and calls the only other person he knows whose parents trust them enough to have a phone in their bedroom.

“H’lo?” Robin mutters sleepily after finally picking up the phone six rings later.

She sounds tired—Steve’s sorry he woke her. “I wrote another letter,” he says.

That seems to perk her up instantly, as she hisses down the line, “Steven James Harrington.”

“Not my name, Robin Steven Bobbington,” he replies, talking right over her shrieked “well, that’s not mine!” to continue, “I’m not going to send it.”

“You better not,” she replies, and Steve can hear some rustling on her end, like she’s settling back down into her bed. He wishes, suddenly, that he was in there with her, clutching her hand as they fall asleep side by side. Instead, he lays down on his own bed and concentrates on the noises coming down the line.

“Is it stupid that I miss him?” he asks.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Robin!”

She laughs, a quiet sleepy chuckle that warms him straight through. “I’m just saying! He’s been treating you like shit, Stevie.”

Steve sighs, burrowing down under his comforter and taking the phone with him. “He was different in the letters,” he whispers, like someone in his empty house might hear him otherwise. “Sweeter, you know?”

Robin sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s enough sorries to go around for all of them, apparently. They’re quiet for a while, Robin’s breathing keeping him company in his big, lonely bed with his big, lonely thoughts.

“I love you, Robbie,” he whispers. “You know that, right?”

He’s been saying it a lot lately, throwing the words around like they’ll connect this time and get him something real. And they had, with Chrissy, with Robin, hell, even with Jeff. Just, not with Eddie. Maybe someday, he’ll learn to be okay with that.

“Love you, too, Dingus,” Robin replies, like it’s easy.

He falls asleep that night to the sound of Robin’s quiet snoring.

***

Eddie thinks about it—obsessively, compulsively. He dreams about it, jerks off about it, fucking cries about it. He reads the letters, again, and again, and again, wishing desperately that he still had that first one. At school, he checks his locker obsessively, compulsively, hoping there’s another note in his locker—there never is.

“Dude, what’s your problem?” Gareth asks, an elbow into Eddie’s side.

“Ow, ribs!” Eddie cries, curling away from him and into Doug at their usual lunch table.

“Sorry!” Gareth replies, leaning away from him and raising his hands up like that’ll somehow prove he’s harmless.

Jeff snorts around his sandwich, “gotta be careful, Gare-bear. He’s precious cargo now.”

“Oh fuck off,” Eddie replies, rolling his eyes as the rest of Hellfire laugh around him.

“No, but seriously, dude,” Gareth asks, this time without the thrown elbow. “What’s up with you?”

Eddie looks across the cafeteria at Steve and Chrissy’s usual spots, still empty the way they have been for weeks. He worries, sometimes, that they’re not eating, and it’s his fault.

Hopefully, they’re just packing lunches from home and eating somewhere else (he’s been too afraid to check).

“Can’t tell you buddy,” Eddie replies, still looking at the empty spot like that’ll somehow make the duo appear. “I promised.”

Gareth, clearly having followed his line of sight, leans closer and asks in an unsubtle whisper, “but it’s about you know what?”

Doug sits on, oblivious, but Jeff snorts again and asks, “okay, you didn’t tell me jack shit, but you told the freshman?”

“Sophomore, jackass!” Gareth cries, before seeming to realize the implications of Jeff’s sentence. “You told Jeff?”

“I knew before you did,” Jeff says smugly, and Eddie’s starting to get pissed off about that again.

“How!”

“Jeff, dearest?” Eddie grits out. “Do you want me to punch you in the face?”

That shuts the table up catastrophically. But in the end, Jeff sighs and says, “I’m coming over after school,” and the rest of lunch is spent fielding Gareth’s indignant questions.

True to his word, Jeff climbs into Eddie’s passenger seat at the end of the day. Eddie doesn’t take them to the trailer, he just drives around, taking back roads round and round, restlessness making his fingers twitch in the gear shift.

Jeff’s the one who breaks the silence, in the end. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, making Eddie flinch at the sudden noise. “Steve just seemed so scared, and Chrissy was crying so—”

“He was scared?” Eddie interrupts, stuck on the thought. He’d known that, before, but now that Eddie’s afraid, too, it hits like a punch to the chest.

“Of course he was,” Eddie replies to his own question. Suddenly unable to focus, Eddie pulls over to the side of the road. “I’m scared, too.”

Jeff sucks in a breath; Eddie doesn’t look away from his own knees.

“Yeah?”

Eddie bites his lip, knowing that Jeff will be able to read between the lines. “Yeah.” His eyes are watering, and Eddie swipes at them, embarrassed. “And I know we’re supposed to be talking about us, but I just—”

“No, hey,” Jeff replies. Eddie hears the sound of his seatbelt unbuckling, and the rustle of him shifting in his seat, and suddenly, Jeff’s hand is clasping Eddie’s shoulder, shaking him around just a little. “You’re my best friend—we’re fine, dude.”

Eddie swipes at his eyes again, “I think I want to ask him out, but what if I’m wrong?” Eddie asks, tracking Jeff’s expression out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t want to hurt him again.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, voice deadpan. “You find out he likes you and suddenly he’s not just a jock anymore?”

Eddie looks down at his own knees, bracing for a hit he knows will never come. But, Eddie’s always been good at hurting himself, so he thinks about that yellow nail polish again, the enraptured look in Steve’s eyes during every D&D session, the way he’d glued himself to Robin Buckley, band nerd supreme’s side in recent weeks. The way he’d look at Eddie like he wasn’t the king of the freaks, like he was worth something.

“He was never just a jock,” Eddie murmurs. “I just never let myself think about it.”

Jeff mmmhmms him and Eddie knows him well enough to hear the doubt beneath the agreement.

“I was afraid, okay?” Eddie laments, scrunching his eyes closed tight until that makes his bruised eye ache too much. “You wouldn’t get it.”

At that, Jeff scoffs, and before Eddie can start up another tirade, he replies, “right, the black guy dating a white girl in Po-dunk, Indiana has no idea how scary it can be to make a move on the person you like.”

Okay, fair.

“You know what could happen if the wrong person finds out?” Jeff continues. “I’ll be lucky if they let me get out of town alive.”

“Okay, okay! I get it, sorry!” Eddie cries, throwing his hands up in defeat. And Jeff, being the asshole he is, just laughs at his discomfort. “How’s that going anyway?”

“With Chrissy?” Jeff asks, continuing when Eddie nods. “She’s great, man. I really, really like her.”

He’s smiling all goofy and in love. Eddie waits for the jealousy to hit; it never comes. Even as he’d flirted with her, there’d always been a disconnect for him between the letters and the girl. He knows why, now.

“I’m happy for you.”

Jeff aims that same goofy smile at him and punches his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

Eddie wants to feel that way about someone. He wants to think of them and smile like he just can’t help himself. And with Steve Harrington of all people, maybe he can.

“If I ask Steve out, do you think he’ll still say yes?”

“Oh, for sure,” Jeff replies without hesitation before he turns to Eddie and eyes him up and down. “But are you sure you want to?”

Eddie bites back the defensive retort rising on his tongue, and grits out, “what do you mean?”

Jeff sighs and leans back in his chair. Eddie waits, three seconds from snapping as he stews in Jeff’s silence, hands clenched so hard against the steering wheel that it feels like one of his nails might pop clean off. 

“Jeff–”

“No one’s ever liked you before!” Jeff cries, and it hits Eddie like a punch to the sternum. “And maybe it’s not fair of me to ask but, are you sure you even really like him?”

“What?” Eddie asks, his mind a record skipping against a bent needle. “What do you–”

“Eddie, man,” Jeff sighs, swiveling his head to finally look Eddie directly in the eyes. “Do you like Steve Harrington, or do you just like that he likes you?”

He drops the wheel, hands almost numb as he shakes them out, no longer able to meet Jeff’s eye. 

How would anyone ever know that for sure? How can he know the origin of a feeling when it’s been there, simmering in the background of his brain, just waiting for him to wake up? How can he separate the feeling for a person and the person’s feeling for them?

That’s like asking him to unbraid his hair, let it fall back together, and still be able to tell which strands made up each component of the braid–it can’t be done.

But, “Gareth said I was obsessed with him,” Eddie replies, barely above a whisper. “Like, before I knew he wrote the letters?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie laughs, but it’s just like Steve said–it sounds different when he doesn’t think it’s funny. “And, he was right, you know? I was flirting with Chrissy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

Eddie runs a shaking hand through his hair and buries his face into his hands with a shudder. “He’s just–he’s Steve Harrington, right? Everyone knows everything about him, but then he just changes the script!” Eddie’s smiling now, manic, animated. “And I wanted to know everything.”

Eddie drops his hands to look over at Jeff, meeting his eyes once more. Jeff looks patient, ready, hopeful in a way he hadn’t before, so Eddie keeps talking.

“Like, Chrissy was flirting with you and he didn’t even seem to care, and the yellow nail polish, and he came to Hellfire, Jeff. Steve Harrington came and watched us play Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I know,” Jeff replies, grinning now, pearly whites all on full display. 

“And when he came to band practice, he was just like, watching me, and I sort of wanted to die, but in a good way, you know?”

Jeff decidedly does not look like he knows, but he’s still grinning across at Eddie like he’s proud of him. Eddie’s kind of proud, too, that he’s managing to say all of this aloud. It feels somehow new and a long time coming at the same time. 

“Okay, you can ask him out,” Jeff says, turning forward in his seat and buckling his seatbelt once more. 

Eddie laughs. “Oh, because I needed your blessing?”

“Yeah,” Jeff replies, grinning as he turns back to Eddie, looking him up and down like he’s a slab of meat Jeff’s checking for its quality. “Maybe wait until you’re healed up, though. You look like one of those cardboard box kittens that I keep seeing on the news.”

“Shut up!” Eddie squawks, but he’s smiling, helplessly, hopefully.

Eddie Munson with a chance at love, who would’ve thought?

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Heyoooo, i just read your say it louder and im in love with that so much like holy, so i was wondering if you could make something kinda similar or something? like maybe logans chasing reader because she stole his cigars and they have a cute moment or something along those lines, maybe end a bit with or with smut? thanks so much babes!

Mine Now | DOFP!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Warnings: Primal!Logan, Scent Tracking, Shotgunning His Cigar, Marking, Implied Smut, Reader is a Mutant who has invisibility, Enemies to Lovers because I’m a sucker for pain, Takes place at the very end of DOPF when Logan comes back to the future, Pain Kink, Breathing Play, Choking, Claws come out – I repeat the claws come out,

Rating: R – No Minors

Word Count: 4.5K

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your request! This was a blast to write and honestly? It gave me a good excuse to write for DOFP!Logan! I adore you! 😊 Also completely unrelated side note….you did say you wanted smut, right??? Because I may, or may not, have spaced you said cutesy and went right to horny.

To be tagged in any future work of mine, please fill this out.

“Hank, have you seen her?” Logan asks, his voice layered with annoyance. You couldn’t help but silently snicker as you watched his brow crease, his nose twitch with frustration, his finger rapping at his side impatiently. The way his jaw ticked as Hank narrowed his own eyes at him made it impossible to hold your laughter, even when you were currently pressed up against the wall – a clear view of the situation going down. You pulled your lip between your teeth as you homed in on Logan’s features, eyes glimmering with rage. It was such a beautiful sight to see, one you have been dreaming of for months. Though you’d never openly admit it, everyone knew, all except him. You had to make the chase worth his while.

Logan Howlett is a force to be reckoned with, everyone told you that. When Charles and Eric first recruited you to teach with them in New York – you thought it was a joke, a cruel one at that. Living paycheck to paycheck in a hole in the wall Hell’s Kitchen apartment, dealing with constantly screaming and fighting from your neighbors, it wasn’t where you wanted to be. You were a survivor, you could adapt to anything, but after what you had experienced, you needed a fresh start. Working at a local diner, making shit for tips wasn’t ideal, but it was enough to help you save to leave. Where would you go prior to this? You had no idea, but someplace that experiences winter – you always loved the snow. But alas, that dreary November day a few years ago changed everything; It changed you. Meeting Logan on your first day told you everything you needed to know about him – he refuses to get close to anyone, you wanted to break that.

It's been three years since you first met Logan, two since you found yourself thinking he was cute, a year since you felt yourself falling for him, and six months since you started the cat and mouse chase. At first with how standoffish Logan was to you, you started to resent him. A year it took before that all fell to the wayside; Your feelings had shifted when you found him outside one night, crying as he smoked his cigar. Of course, your mutation left you able to turn invisible, able to watch him, without him knowing you were there. Through the heavy rain your smell was masked, he couldn’t tell you were there. But it made you feel closer to him; He wasn’t some robot who didn’t have emotions. He felt them too strong, which is why when he started to slip back into his mind, he pulled away. Being over 200 years old meant he saw some shit, lost people he loved, it took a toll on him after a while. That day forward you stopped keeping your distance, but instead made the effort to be near him, to show him you weren’t going anywhere.

Slowly you noticed how Logan started to open up to you, telling you stories of when he was young, his first mission with the X-Men. You got to learn a lot about The Wolverine, and come to find out he wasn’t a hard ass – he was sincere, doting, downright admirable. What he dealt with in his years fucked him up horribly to where he didn’t trust people easily – but it didn’t make him less. He always pushed forward and strove for success, to survive. He wouldn’t classify himself as a hero, but he was to you, and he deserved to know. Logan found himself trusting you easily after a year, his lonely nights stuck in his own head turned into game nights with you, strolls through the garden, getting a drink at the bar downtown. He could still be himself, but not have to carry the baggage by himself all the time. Falling hopelessly in love with him was inevitable, but also impossible. Nothing more could happen between the two of you and you knew that – but there was still a flicker of hope in your mind that wouldn’t quiet down. Especially with how flirty Logan had become with you.

 Usually, he was like this with Jean and Storm, taking it up a notch with them so he could have the last retort. To say he wasn’t a ladies’ man was a lie, he could pull anyone he wanted to. To Logan it was a game, seeing how flustered he could make him teammates – and he loved to win. With you it was different – it wasn’t low growls and light touching on your arms, no, it was more. At first to started off to be resting his chin on your shoulder, letting his breath stroke the column of your neck. Slowly it moved out to touches; Holding your waist from behind, rubbing his large hands over your lower stomach, slipping his hands under your shirt to caress your hip. Over the last few weeks though, he upgraded to holding your face, running his calloused thumb across your bottom lip, stealing forehead and cheek kisses before heading out. Rogue and Kitty that you two were dating, even Bobby got in on it – but when you stated you weren’t everyone looked at you like you had six heads.

“No Logan, I have not.” Hank let his eyes pan to where you were hiding as Logan turned away for a moment, giving you a small wink as he played along. After all, this was his idea – well, his and Xavier’s. You had overheard a conversation about how Logan’s cigar smell had been wafting into their classroom’s lately – distracting everyone as Logan taught. Charles had the bright idea for you to nab them and hold them hostage, until Logan learned his lesson. You on the other hand, were far too gone to do that. Instead you decided to take the cigars, but make a game out of it. Little post it notes with clues on where you were hiding, you stored them all over his bedroom and classroom, thanks to Scott. Ever since Jean told you just how primal Logan could get, how good of a tracker he was, you wanted to test it out for yourself. What better way than take the one thing he cannot live without? “What happened this time?”

Logan huffed as he ran both of his hands down his face, coming dangerously close to propping his hip against your body. You had to shuffle slightly as he leaned into the wall, letting his head bounce off the wood a few good times. “Little shit stole my box of cigars.” He looked exhausted, frustrated, and downright sexy. Seeing how lost and irritable he was without them made you smirk, causing you to bite your lip harder to suppress a whimper. You noticed how Logan’s ear perked up as you gulped, his head turning softly. Hank noticed this almost immediately and replied with a whooping laugh.  “Ha!” You sighed inaudibly as you silently thanked Hank, knowing he used his booming voice to mask your sounds. Holding one of his hands up to Logan, he snickered as he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry that was cruel of me. What I meant to say is, that’s funny.” Hank let out a small chortle at Logan’s distain, being met with a flash of a middle finger, and claw too.  “Thanks, asshole,” Logan huffed as he pushed himself off of the wall, running his hand through his hair.

You watched him intently, thanking whoever was listening for making you have the power of invisibility. Being able to listen to everything going down, while Logan has no idea you’re here, made you feel powerful. You heard talks about how your power could be useful, but ultimately not threatening; Now, you’d beg to differ. Though you grew tiresome of the chase, being a fly on the wall versus a real player. It was fun the first two hours this started, but encroaching on hour six – the school clearing out and the sun almost set on the horizon, you grew slightly bored. “Have you tried the library? She likes to hide there.” Hank let out without hesitancy, making your eyes grow wide. It was like an aha moment for you, choosing the most likely place for last. Earlier it was too crowded, people would know you were there the second Logan came looking for you. But now with the young mutants either outside or in the city due to the upcoming weekend, you knew it would be vacant.

“I know her all too well, Hank. That’s the first place I looked.” Hearing Logan say that made your heart flutter, made you feel special that he knew you so well. A strong sigh left your lips as Hank coughed, dreamily staring at Logan as you started to walk backwards. Losing your invisibility for a moment, you stood a few feet behind Logan, walking towards the grand staircase that took you to the library. Waving at Hank, you motioned for it as you smirked, causing Hank to laugh. “You sure?” He asked, nodding behind Logan. As you stood closer to the staircase, you noticed how Logan was sniffing the air – his body growing tense as he spun around. It’s when he laid his eyes upon you that you knew he was fed up. It wasn’t the primal growl and heavy breathing that got to you, but the way his hazel eyes went from green to black in a split section, his chest heaving as he stared at you. “Oh shit,” was all you managed to let out as you turned invisible again, running up the stairs.

Everything was a blur to you, running as fast as your body could take you. Three flights to get where you needed to go seemed like forever, when you were being chased by The Wolverine. He had super human speed, a great nose for sniffing things out, he was at the advantage whilst you were at a disadvantage. Even with scent masking, now that you started to sweat it would make you more obvious, especially when the library was empty. Huffing and puffing as you managed two steps at a time, you refused to look back. But you could hear the stomps of Logan’s boots, clearly taking three steps to match you. Silently you prayed to whoever was listening, to get you to the library safe and sound before Logan got you. The last thing you wanted was for him to pin you to the stairs so everyone could see, that was too on the nose.

Reaching the top step of the library, you managed to sway your way through the wooden chairs and tables, giggling to yourself as you were halfway across the room. Due to the grand nature of the library, especially being two floors, it gave you so many good hiding spots. A circular room to see everything, yet hide in plain sight. As you made it over to the spiral staircase for the second level, you had noticed Logan standing at the entrance of the library, huffing and puffing. It made you snort, seeing how riled up he was. You had to admit, it was sexy to see how pissed off he was, causing a fresh wave of your arousal to coat your panties. Logan seemed to have taken note as he sniffed the air, his eyes cutting across the room straight to yours. “Come on out princess,” he growled, flexing his hands at his side. Slowly you crept up the metal staircase for the second level, taking one step at a time to not elicit any sounds. You let your breathing relax, slowing your heart rate as you kept calm, not needing to give yourself away. But Logan could sense you, eyeing the staircase with every move you made. “I got you now.”

A devilish grin fought to claim his mouth as he pounced over the tables, running on all fours as he landed right at the bottom of the staircase. You managed to get all the way up and around, leaving to the right. Multiple aisles of books covered upstairs, as well as the walls, each window let in the dusk light – showing dust particles roaming the air. Your tell-tale shimmer of invisibility was caught in the light a few times, but Logan was too lost to notice. Finding your perfect hiding spot away from prying eyes, you slotted yourself against the endcap of Psychology of Mutants, knowing no one reads these. You could feel the stagnant beating of your heart at times, wondering if it was due to fear or the thrill of the chase. Maybe it was the aspect of it being bittersweet as well; A years long chase with Logan finally reaching its peak. You knew there would never be going back from this, and that was okay. Stealing his cigars wasn’t the endgame, it was only the beginning.

“You can’t hide forever you know,” Logan snarled as he reached the top of the landing, huffing as he eyed every shelf. You could see him, nor did you want to, hoping to God he chose to head left instead of right. Alas you were sorely mistaken as his heavy steps started to echo right, causing you to curse under your breath. SNIKT, you heard the metallic sound echoing through the room, but also your mind, causing you to whimper. Logan had unsheathed his claws, holding them out. The idea of him using the claws on you, pinning you down with them, holding them against your neck made your body run hot, your arousal heightening as the thoughts ran rampant through your mind. “I will catch you.” It was not a threat but a fact, Logan was not kidding anymore. The animal inside of him was taking over, leaving the Logan you knew behind. This was all caused because you pushed him to the point of no return, and you fucking loved it. The reverberation of his claws against the wooden shelves made you shudder, knowing how close he was getting now.

Biting down hard on your lip, you placed your hand over your mouth, trying to regain control of your breathing. Being right across from the last window on the right didn’t do you any good, especially with the beam of light falling through. If you moved even a millimeter, you were going to be made. It’s then when you opened your eyes to pan to your left that you saw his shadow encroaching on you, his stance wide as his claws were pointed at the ground. Each gruff huff he let out made your eyes roll back, finding it harder and harder to keep yourself hidden. You couldn’t look away from him either, you needed to watch him; How the sweat beaded at his hairline, how his little tufts of hair were wild from pulling at them, how his snarl got more animalistic the longer he tried to look for you. “Where did you go?” You couldn’t describe how Logan sounded in that moment; Primal and animalistic do not even begin to crest.

You focused too much on his tone, completely forgetting your watchful eye on him. When you glanced back after trying to calm yourself, you noticed the 6’2 Wolverine was no longer walking his way towards the aisles but vanished into thin air. Not knowing where he was, made your heart rate skyrocket – panic ensuing all over your body. Goosebumps arose across your skin as you pondered where he could be, afraid to move in case he was lurking close to you. Maybe he went off to the left instead, leaving you by yourself to escape. It would make sense, considering how you heard the creaking of the floorboards on the opposite side now. Letting out a concealed breath, you slowly moved away from the end cap of the shelf, leaving your back exposed. You knew it was a mistake when the hot, stifling air of the closed space became ice cold, a shiver falling down your spine. The sun shifted away in that moment, blanketing the area in darkness, complete with only a sliver of light, not even to cast shadows. The second your back was exposed; All hell broke loose.

Two strong hands grabbed hold of your hips, pulling you back into a solid form. The yelp you let out was loud enough to echo, but not loud enough to raise suspicion. The strain on your powers had gotten to be too much, slowly slipping back into being visible. You huffed out as your back connected with his chest, your hands finding purchase on his muscular forearms. “There you are little mouse.” He snickered in your ear, pressing his nose to the pulse point of your neck. Logan deeply inhaled at the vein, his teeth barring to nip at your exposed shoulder. It felt good to have his mouth on you, to have him seemingly obsessed with your scent. After all, it is what gave you away. Whimpering out, you dug your nails into Logan’s arm, feeling the reverberation of his snarl through your body. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move – you were a lost cause. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

Logan was mocking you at this point, purposely being a little shit to mimic how you have been with him. When it came to his cigars, he wasn’t fucking around. But when he knew it was you who took them, well he wasn’t going to let you live this down. Logan moved from behind you, but kept his hands grasping your flesh. Moving to the side, he pressed your back against the end cap again, bringing you back to your original position. His right hand remained on your hip as his left grasped your neck, pressing against your pulse point, feeling the thrum of blood on your veins. The edges of your vision began to go fuzzy due to the restricted blood flow, but you didn’t care. Logan was putting you right in your place, and you were obeying so well for him. “I believe you have something of mine,” he murmured; His prominent nose pressing harshly against your cheek. The warmth of his breath on your skin, mixed with the cold drag of his claws against your skin made you shiver, loving how it felt too much. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You laughed out, clearly laced with thrill.

Logan didn’t take too kindly to you playing dumb, the tick in his jaw spoke measures. His grip on your neck was heavier than before, using his full weight to restrict your blood flow quicker, your vision developing black dots. “Oh, you don’t?” The challenged in his voice said all you needed to know – he was fucking desperate. There was no hiding it now, he needed you – not his cigars, but you. Gulping down against his large hand, you felt the press of his claws against the back of your neck, pushing through the wood of the bookshelf to lock you in place. He would never intentionally draw blood, or hurt you, but he knew this was your deepest fantasy, all thanks to Jean relaying it. His lips were inches from your ear as he chuckled darkly, groaning out against the flesh. “Do I need to jog your memory?” You shouldn’t have been as turned on by that as you were. Your knees buckled slightly as you almost fell, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Logan took advantage of your eyes being closed to pull his hand away from your hip. The loss of touch made you whine, but quickly you were quieted by his roughened tugs. Grabbing at the edge of your tank top, Logan ran his claws through the fabric to create slits, ripping them open just as easily. Looking down at your jeans, he could see the bulge in your pocket – where you had hidden a few of his cigars. A huff of relief fell from his parted lips as she cut your pocket open, letting them fall right into his hand. He mimicked your hiding and shoved them into his own pocket, moving on to the next. The cool breeze against your exposed skin made you quickly heat up; Logan using his claws on you made you lose your fucking mind. He repeated his efforts with your other side, making matching holes in his jeans and shirt, not caring anymore.

It was as the last few cigars rolled out of your pocket that Logan pulled back, his heavy body heat no longer suffocating you. The contact was missed, causing you to pout slightly. “Boo hoo hoo,” Logan mocked as he watched you, walking backwards to push his back against the window. The sill right below it was begging him to sit, so he took advantage of it. Reaching into his left pocket, Logan pulled out his Zippo lighter – flicking it against his pants to ignite the flame. It was intoxicating watching him, how effortlessly fluid his motions were. Biting your cheek, you watched him intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulled out the precut cigar from his pocket and pushed it between his lips, favoring his left side for it to rest between his teeth. Lighting the end until the cherry burned bright, he took a few quick puffs, blowing the smoke out in a cloud around him.

Your eyes could not pull away from him even if you tried, it was nearly impossible. The way he moved was like silk through the wind, so effortless and elegant; He knew he was hot like this. Taking another quick drag, Logan let the smoke fall from his lips as he tucked the cigar back in between his teeth, putting away his lighter. Reaching forward with his claws still extended, he hooked two of the blades into the belt loop of your jeans, tugging you forward. There was about a person’s space between the bookshelf and the window, making it easy for him to grab at you. Of course, your body obeyed his silent command, tripping slightly as you tried to regain your footing. Placing both of your hands on his thick, warm thighs, you licked your lips. The smoke being released from both the cigar and his mouth captured your attention, making it difficult to focus on what he was saying. The way his motions flowed were so smooth, it was impossible to say anything else to him.

Taking a rather large drag of his cigar, he puffed his cheeks out a bit to hold it all in. It took you by surprise, why he was holding it all in his mouth. Retracting his claws on his right hand, Logan grabbed at your jaw like a man possessed, pushing his meaty fingertips into your flesh. The slight ache of his possessiveness made your mouth part, a pained look on your face that you were lost in. Logan got close to you, his lips only mere inches away from your mouth as you whimpered. With your lips parted, Logan mimicked your motions as he breathed out. The soft, heady tendrils of smoke wafted from his mouth into yours, causing you to let them stir. Tobacco mixed with the sweetness of the wrap caused your eyes to dilate, boring into Logan with pure unadulterated lust. There was no mistaking it as he shotgunned his cigar with you, his smirk prevalent. “That’s my good girl.” He crooned, taking in your big eyes, the heat of your skin – basking in your glory.

You blew the smoke right back at Logan while he chuckled, licking his lips to wet them as he took another puff. There was something so intoxicating about how you reacted, it was like watching a painting come to life. From the first day he met you, he knew you were something else – he had to challenge you. Almost four years later and you’re still trying to get with him, he admired it. Finally, the silent love he had for you could be shown, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for you. You made him work to catch you, now you had to work to get what you wanted. “Get on your knees.” The command fell off of Logan’s lips so naturally you almost didn’t catch it at first. Your eyes glossy as you watched him, your brain not keeping up. Narrowing his eyes at you, he cocked his brow as he laid the cigar to the side, watching to see your reaction. “I’m sorry?” You questioned without realizing, your face slack with lust.

Reaching forward towards you, Logan grabbed your neck once more, this time yanking you so close to his face that you felt his breath waft over your features. “Get. On. Your. Fucking. Knees.” There was no hesitation in Logan’s voice as he stated his command, letting his face go rigid to show he was getting pissed off. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” You wanted to, every fiber of your being wanted to disobey him, make him angry so he was rough with you – at the same time you didn’t want to make him mad, not yet anyway. Nodding to him against his hand, you slipped down to your knees easily with a moan, pressing out your wet bottom lip as you gazed up at him.

Logan rolled his eyes as he grabbed the cigar again, pressing it against your lips. It’s when you take a drag of it that he pulls out, putting it in his own mouth once more. With his hand now free from holding his cigar, he quickly flicked open his belt buckle, undoing the top button on his jeans as you took the silent command to pull his zipper down. His erection was stiff against his jeans and left nothing to the imagination. He was big, he was hot, and he was fucking turned on. Watching you with a lustful glow in his eyes, Logan groaned as he watched you, never letting you have the last word: “You may have started the game princess, but I am going to finish it.”

----

Tagging: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444 @begaytotallygay @tezooks @hughj1d @mami-veracruz @salemslostwitch @karencaribou @princesstarble @dirtylittlefairytales @hbwrelic @mosscrissfemmefatale @pinkanonwriting @craziersarah98 @actuallybridgetjones @silversprings-mp3 @lokidovahkiin

[creamflix]

flix my love my darling what if we combined jjk and hsr or is this too delusional

LUST FOR LIFE! — jjk x female reader x hsr

18+ content, minors and blank blogs do not interact. recurring themes of: established relationship, marathon sex, slight cnc, overstimulation, mind-break, threesomes, degrading, praise, p in v sex. sex toys, cucking, voyeurism, body worship, switch dynamics, oral (m. receiving). guided sex. featuring x reader pairings of: toji fushiguro & sampo koski, gojo satoru & aventurine, choso kamo & dan heng, nanami kento & veritas ratio, and (heinen era) ryomen sukuna & blade

jelli my love you got me slobbering all over the screen with your request. i would have written more but i wanted to include multiple pairings so it ended up as drabbles instead ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) i hope you like these <3 requests are still open for those who are interested, just send in an ask. 

— general masterlist ☆

TOJI FUSHIGURO AND SAMPO KOSKI — BUSINESS DEALS!

toji had a habit of turning things up a notch, but this? this was a different league altogether. 

when you first saw sampo koski at your doorstep, looking like trouble in an expensive coat with a shit-eating grin, you thought it was just one of toji's stupid pranks.

“brought reinforcements,” toji had said, voice dripping with smug amusement. sampo, ever the showman, swept into the room like he owned it, opening a sleek case filled with an impressive lineup of toys. your face burned, mortification clashing with a thrill you couldn’t deny.

and now? god, you were wrecked. sprawled out on the bed, legs trembling, body hypersensitive, and your mind a haze of overstimulation. sampo’s laugh was low and teasing, his voice dripping with condescension. “look at you, so eager to thank us for every little thing. who’s my favorite little client, huh?”

toji’s hand, firm and warm, pressed on your lower back, pinning you down as he leaned close to your ear. “ye got a lotttta stamina, babe, but you don’t think we’re stoppin' now, do ya?”

every whimper, every moan that escaped your lips only fueled their sadistic amusement. sampo alternated between cruel, taunting comments and offering you praise that made your head spin, while toji took full advantage of your pliant state, whispering filthy things about how good you looked falling apart for them.

it was endless, round after round, with every toy from sampo’s collection coming into play. the overwhelming sensations had you slurring broken words of gratitude and sobbing from the sheer intensity, unable to think, just feel.

“we might have to invest in more,” sampo mused, twirling a dildo in his hand like it was a business proposition. “our sweet little thing here seems to have a taste for luxury.”

toji laughed, a dark and throaty sound. “oh, don’t worry, she’ll take everythin' we give her. wouldn’t want her to get spoiled though… unless you like bein' spoiled, baby?”

you could barely respond, too lost in the haze, but the smirk they exchanged promised that your torment — and pleasure — was far from over.

GOJO SATORU & AVENTURINE — ALL IN!

“a brother from another mother,” gojo had said with that usual mischievous grin, clapping aventurine on the shoulder like they weren’t both trouble incarnate. aventurine, all sharp smiles and unnerving eyes, had leaned in, his sandy-blond hair catching the light, and said, “nice to meet you, sweetheart. gojo’s told me allll about you. every. single. thing.”

you didn’t know if it was the way aventurine’s voice dripped with something wicked or the way gojo gave him a knowing smirk, but you had a feeling this meeting wasn’t going to stay innocent for long. and god, were you right.

now? now you were caught between them, your senses obliterated, every nerve ending alight. aventurine’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his. “think you can handle another round, sweetheart? satoru says you’re good for it, but I’d like to see for myself.”

“she’s better than good,” gojo cut in, his tone smug as his hand trailed down your side, igniting shivers in its wake. “but let’s make this fun — wanna bet how long it takes before she’s begging again?”

aventurine’s grin widened, all teeth and danger. “oh, you’re on. but let’s not stop there. how about we bet on how many times she screams my name?”

you were barely holding it together, their words tangling in your hazy mind as their hands and mouths worked you over. every move was calculated, every kiss, every thrust a competition to see who could unravel you faster.

aventurine was smooth and precise, his calculated touches finding every spot that made you see stars, while gojo was relentless, teasing and taunting as he pushed you to your limits. they coordinated like they’d done this a hundred times before, one filling the spaces where the other left off, leaving you no room to recover.

“look at her,” aventurine said, his voice a low purr as he watched your trembling form. “a little overwhelmed, aren’t you, sweetheart? don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. maybe.”

“nah,” gojo chimed in, his grin never faltering. “she loves it. just look at how she’s clinging to us — like she doesn’t want it to end.”

you could barely respond, lost in the pleasure as their playful banter became background noise to the overwhelming sensations. every sound you made, every time your body betrayed you, only fueled their competitive fire.

“i think that’s my point,” aventurine declared triumphantly when you screamed his name, your voice cracking from the intensity.

“oh, don’t get cocky,” gojo shot back, his tone light but his actions anything but. “we’re just getting started.”

and you? you couldn’t even protest. not that you wanted to. you were here to enjoy the ride, and with these two, it was shaping up to be the wildest ride of your life.

CHOSO KAMO & DAN HENG — SOCIALLY FUCKED ANXIOUS!

choso had always been your sweet, reserved boyfriend — the type who’d spend hours listening to you, loving you with a quiet devotion that melted your heart. so when he mentioned he was making friends, especially someone like dan heng, you couldn’t have been prouder.

but this? this was unexpected.

dan heng, all elegance and composure, was seated next to choso, his blue eyes studying you with a mix of intrigue and desire that sent a shiver down your spine. choso, your shy, anxious boyfriend, was the one who suggested it. his voice soft but firm, his dark eyes burning with an intensity you didn’t know he had. “only if you want to,” he murmured, his hand holding yours with that same gentle warmth you’d always known.

and now here you were, sandwiched between them, their lips worshipping every inch of you. dan heng’s kisses were slow, deliberate, trailing down your body with reverence, while choso stayed closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he murmured sweet reassurances.

“you’re so beautiful,” dan heng said softly, his voice like silk, as his hands mapped your curves.

choso nodded, his voice thick with adoration. “perfect. always perfect.”

but their tenderness didn’t last. it wasn’t long before patience gave way to raw hunger. dan heng’s composure cracked first, his movements becoming urgent as he gripped your hips, his kisses turning into bites that left you gasping. choso followed suit, his shyness replaced by a desperation you’d only seen glimpses of before, his hands firm as they guided you exactly where he wanted.

their rhythm was relentless, their coordination uncanny as they pushed you to multiple orgasms over and over again. choso’s soft murmurs of praise contrasted with dan heng’s deep, rumbling groans, the combination leaving you breathless and shaking.

“you can take it,” dan heng growled, his usual calm voice tinged with something feral as he watched you writhe between them.

“you’re doing so good for us,” choso added, his tone still laced with love, even as his thrusts grew rougher, more insistent.

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, your body overwhelmed by their touch, their intensity. all you could do was surrender, grateful for every moment, every sensation.

as the night blurred into a haze of pleasure, one thought lingered in your mind: you were so glad choso had stepped out of his comfort zone. if this was what friendship brought, you were more than happy to let him keep making new ones.

NANAMI KENTO & VERITAS RATIO — LESSON IN RELIEF!

nanami had always spoken highly of veritas ratio, his tone fond yet full of respect whenever his name came up. “a genius,” he would say, “but insufferably eccentric.” still, he admired ratio’s dedication to teaching and his unmatched intellect, and when his best friend visited, nanami insisted on inviting him to stay at your home.

ratio was a sight to behold — his wavy violet hair fell over one eye, the other catching you with its piercing, dual-toned gaze. he was polite, almost reserved, but the sharpness in his eyes betrayed his mind at work, constantly analyzing, constantly thinking.

you hadn’t expected the night to turn this way.

“she’s yours for the evening,” nanami had said, his voice calm, almost businesslike, as though he were discussing dinner plans instead of offering you up to his best friend. “i know how taxing your work is, ratio. consider it my way of thanking you for all the years of friendship.”

ratio hadn’t needed to be asked twice. his demeanor shifted as he approached you, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. “a most generous gift, nanami,” he said, his tone smooth, his lips curling into a small, amused smile. “i promise to make the most of it.”

you had barely registered the words before ratio’s hands were on you, firm yet measured, like he was solving a complex problem with precision. his lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot as he murmured, “so eager to help, aren’t you? a willing participant in your husband’s… generosity.”

nanami watched, seated nearby with a glass of whiskey in hand, his expression composed but his eyes betraying a flicker of satisfaction. “don’t go too easy on her, ratio. she can handle more than she lets on.”

ratio chuckled, low and dark, as his hands roamed your body. “oh, i don’t intend to.”

he wasn’t gentle — not entirely. his movements were calculated, his touch almost clinical at first, but it didn’t take long for his restraint to unravel. his words came fast, sharp, like a lecture, each one making you tremble under his control.

“you’re quite the distraction,” he mused, his voice edged with amusement. “no wonder nanami looks so content these days. it seems i underestimated just how… accommodating you are.”

you barely heard nanami’s low chuckle over your own gasps and moans, your body responding to ratio’s relentless attention. his strength surprised you, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed you past every limit you thought you had.

“good girl,” ratio praised, his voice a mix of condescension and admiration as he watched you fall apart. “you’re learning quickly. maybe there’s hope for the future generation after all.”

“she’s an excellent student,” nanami added, his tone warm with pride. “but she’s all yours for now, ratio. don’t hold back.”

and ratio didn’t. by the end of the night, you were utterly spent, every nerve in your body alight, your mind foggy with exhaustion and satisfaction. as you lay there, caught between them, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have a husband so generous — and a man like ratio to appreciate the gift.

RYOMEN SUKUNA & BLADE — A LORD’S DECREE!

sukuna was as cruel as he was powerful, a lord whose sadistic streak ran deep. you had earned your title as his consort, climbing from the ranks of his concubines, yet even now, his affection came wrapped in torment. his amusement at your expense was a constant reminder of his dominion over you.

tonight was no exception.

“you’ll honor my general,” sukuna commanded, his voice a rumble of authority as he reclined on his throne, sharp eyes watching you like a predator savoring its prey. his lips curved into a smirk, his four arms resting lazily, exuding dominance.

before you stood blade, the general who had delivered yet another victory in sukuna’s name. he was imposing, with dark blue hair tipped in crimson, his red eyes sharp and unyielding. the bandages on his body only added to his aura, a testament to his countless battles.

“kneel,” sukuna ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

you obeyed, trembling but determined not to falter under your lord’s gaze. blade remained stoic, his expression unreadable as you lowered yourself before him.

“use that mouth of yours well,” sukuna drawled, leaning forward slightly, his smirk deepening. “but remember, pet, blade knows better than to take liberties. isn't that right, general?”

blade’s deep voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. “of course, my lord. your word is absolute.”

you began, your movements tentative at first, the weight of sukuna’s gaze a constant pressure. blade’s restraint was palpable, his body tense as you worked, every sound you elicited from him controlled, calculated.

“good,” sukuna murmured, his voice dripping with sadistic satisfaction. “you should feel honored, blade. not everyone gets to enjoy my consort’s talents.”

blade’s only response was a low grunt, his eyes flickering to sukuna briefly before returning to you. his self-control was admirable, but you could sense the strain, the effort it took for him to abide by sukuna’s decree.

“don’t get greedy,” sukuna warned, his tone sharp as a blade. “you know the consequences if you so much as think about taking more.”

blade’s voice was a strained rasp. “i wouldn’t dare, my lord.”

sukuna chuckled darkly, his amusement clear as he watched the scene unfold. “good. remember your place, general.”

you could feel your own limits approaching, the intensity of the situation overwhelming, but sukuna’s laughter reminded you that this was as much a test for you as it was for blade.

“don’t stop now, pet,” sukuna said, his grin widening. “you wouldn’t want me to think you’re slacking, would you?”

you shook your head weakly, redoubling your efforts despite the ache in your jaw, the humiliation of it all only fueling sukuna’s sadistic pleasure.

when it was finally over, blade stepped back, his expression unreadable, though you could see the faintest flicker of gratitude in his eyes. sukuna, meanwhile, looked utterly pleased, his laughter echoing through the chamber.

“a celebration worthy of my general,” sukuna declared, his tone mocking. “well done, pet. perhaps you are worthy of your title after all.”

you swallowed hard, your body trembling as you knelt before him, his cruel gaze still heavy on you. being sukuna’s consort meant enduring his games, his punishments, and his praise — if it could even be called that.

and yet, you wouldn’t dare question your place by his side.

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[missnightshade]

❝ I WILL REMAIN, LOVE ❞

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Lilia's trial ends with an - almost - irreversible consequence for Agatha's lover.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Almost death experience. Mentions of blood, blades and death (aka Rio). Non canon. English not being my first language.

Word count: 2k and something.

The path narrowed as the Coven walked through it. Looking forward at the long-haired witch that had your heart, you felt that Agatha no longer held the confidence she once had while summoning the Witche's Road. Both of you knew, for sure, that the whole song was a catch. A nice, petty, centuries old trap Agatha created in hopes to gain enough power to bring Nicky back.

A witch’s life was never easy. Just as the world was a malleable cruel thing, so was the days that these powerful women had to go through. Things changed between almost four hundred years back and now, walking this makeshift magical road. Nothing was as it used to be. Yet, Agatha was the only constant in all of the eras of your life. One that didn’t need a real label for you to know that, no matter what happened, it was the two of you against the world.

As the time passed and your legs grew tired, your attention shifted to the teen boy. It wasn’t needed for Agatha to tell you that she, too, was suspicious he was the one manipulating all of that. Agatha was powerless, and you knew it wasn’t you. Jen, Alice and Lilia were powerful, but not enough to bend reality to fit their own agenda.

But Teen, or Billy, emanated strong ancient magic. It was applaudable how the seams between his mind and the reality were almost unnoticeable

“He doesn’t know.” you guessed, falling into Agatha’s steps as the rest of the coven stayed behind, carelessly discussing something trivial.

“What gave it away, love?” she smiled, but her mind was far, far away.

“He got himself deadly hurt. He would have to be insanely dumb to trust one of us would cure him.

“Maybe he is just a dumb boy...” Agatha started out playfully, but seeing your serious face, the shine in her eyes died. You hoped for it to come back. “I know. And this makes...everything harder.”

You felt the witch rambling inside, wishing to measure the weight of explaining her worries, but as she opened her mouth, a cold, sickining body passed between the two of you, harshly separating your shoulders. Rio's sinister smile echoed inside your mind, like she could indeed penetrate herself there. As the sharp blade of hers slid down the middle of her tongue, evil, inviting, you felt the path ahead tuneling before you.

“I see you in the next trial, Y/N.”

And right there, towering in front of both of you as Rio skipped happily towards it, was a dim lit castle with its imponent tower screaming at you. Your steps halted, and Agatha almost bumped into you. You couldn't notice as Rio’s aura still held you hostage there, but your partner, your companion, your constant, eyed you as if she could actually force you out of the road. She knew, you knew, but no one dared to say a thing, afraid of the consequences.

Inside the castle, the clothes changed drastically, almost as you were in a disney witches' reunion. A table of tarot reading stood in the middle of the room, and as Teen rounded the corner, Lilia stopped there.

‘It’s my trial. I should read it.”

There was no questioning, but as the first card was laid upwards on the table, a sharp sword crashed down right by your side. Arms full of worry pulled you in, and your body rested against a scared Agatha. Her heartbeat was rapid against your touch, but as you glanced at RIo, she was nowhere to be found. The celling, full of swords, was just now noticed as the trial’s count down began, lowering above the coven’s head.

“I think we need something more...” desesperadly, Agatha took the deck of cards from Lilia. “Imediate.”

She started to lay cards as if her life depended on it. And, at some point, it did. But card after card, mistake after mistake, more and more swords fell. Some not around you, but mostly too close to be safe.

“Agatha!” Teen screamed, stopping her. “It’s not by chance. This has to be done right.”

The deck of cards was, again, in Lilia’s hand. Even though she managed to find out who the reading reading was for, as the last card was placed and the celling stopped lowering, a heartless, mounstruous sound erupted around the room. Agatha looked behind, breathless, pushing you towards the exit that popped open.

“The Seven are here. Hurry. Everyone out!"

Lilia intended to be the last one out, but as Jen pulled her, there was only you, teen, and Agatha behind. You didn’t notice, but a quiet, sly snake rounded the corner of a pillar, morphing quickly into one of Agatha’s old nemeses. The scare made you tremble, steps a mess as you tried to block down an attack with your own powers. A flash of light sent you and them apart, and as the snake met the side of a blade, you met the other, both fallen from the trial. The sharp pain erupted, but looking behind, Agatha was as surrounded by another four of them. Lilia screamed something that only Teen managed to understand, and as he blasted both of you out, the main card was turned upside down, in time only for him to jump out of the door before the whole trial turned and screams of impaled witches were heard.

The instant died down. Nothing besides agitated breaths could be heard between all of the coven members. You, on the other side, could barely hear anything. Agatha’s voice calling for you was far away, and although you tried to answer, you choked in blood, the taste of the ironed fluid filling your mouth.

“What?” Teen asked Alice, who stared at him like a ghost was right above his shoulders. As he held you still, the protection witch could only point out to your own body falling against Billy’s, pale face, coughing blood till your whole figure hit the floor.

Agatha eyes were shining with tears. The leaves from the trees in Salem that spring were vivid, but not like her eyes. At that time, you couldn’t bring yourself to say something as deeply as “I love you” to the Harkness heir. And as your death seeped into your whole existence, the fear of losing her friendship felt...ridiculous. Her tears fell onto your body. Pierced through with Evanora Harkness’ magic for simply being her daughter support, you were sure that there was no better reason to die.

“Please, Sunshine. Stay with me. It will be okay.” Agatha cried and cried, cradling your body into her arms. Holding you for her dear life, your body slowly became more and more heavy against her lap.

“Shh..Aggy. Don’t cry.” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. There was no physical damage, but your insides rotted by the minute. “This is honestly the best option to die. In your arms, you know?”

She scoffed, trying to pull your head up as if a miracle would happen. She was not only sad and griefing but also mad and frustrated.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re not going to die.”

You regarded her tiredly, too tired to even speak. But you knew that there was no way death would collect you before Agatha was sure it wasn’t her fault. And how loved she was.

“Aggy...this is unfruitful. We both know it.” you swallowed your desperation to part ways with the living world. “Just hear me out, Angel. You were the best, best thing I could have in my life. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Don’t forget that. I would die a thousand times in your arms.”

She blinked, tears falling onto your forehead. Last time, your voice grounded her as her own magic saved your from death. But now, as Rio appeared again, there was nothing from you besides the blood that ran to the floor from a large perforation you suffered from falling against the tip of a sword without even noticing in all that commotion. Agatha blamed herself again. You were on the road because of her. Because of her restless search for power. Looking at your pale face and shallow breath almost dissipating, she felt for the first time in her life since her son’s birth that she didn’t need any magic if she could, perhaps, keep you.

“You know you can’t.” Rio’s voice echoed, but as the witches around your lifeless body moved around to recreate the spell used on Billy, Agatha stared at her. “You walked hand in hand with me for so long, Agatha. You, above anyone, should understand how life and death works.“

“Don’t!”, the witches voice screamed back, and the strength it held made Rio stop marching forward. “She can’t die. It’s not her time.”

“But it is.” death answered, showing her half skull face only Agatha could see. “She gave you everything. Her time has been completed.”

“No!” she didn’t plead. Tired of all the centuries serving as a cunt to give her more and more bodies even after having her son taken from her, it felt unfair. “That’s enough.”

Agatha didn’t waste another minute there, succumbing to Rio’s words. She cried out for Jen. Vulnerable, broken, the coven fell into a rhythm of trying the ritual over and over again, but not only the moonlit water fell onto your body, but also your partner’s tears as she was left disheveled from pleading to the Mother to keep your life. It was a side of Agatha Hakness no one had seen. No one besides Y/N and Rio. Yet, as the hole on your body closed, no one exactly knew what would be of you. Rio stood there, overing your body.

“She will be alright.” Teen reassured Agatha almost three hours later, giving her some of the berries he found on the road.

She wanted to curse him for putting you into that situation, but then again, the Salem Seven were her fault. A moment passed as your body was kept close to the fire. On the sidelines, Death eyed you, protected by Agatha’s love, something that she despised you for. The blue eyed witch gazed at you.

“You care for her.” Lilia said, voice flowing with the wind. “Like you never cared for anyone.”

“Just one person, besides her. My son.” she smiled sadly. It was the first time mentioning him, but the truth was just as painful as the current reality. The coven, her found coven, listened to it. “And Y/N helped me navigate all of that. Back from Salem to now. But this is not the first time i almost killed her.”

“If you are going to talk about our story...” a faint, tired, almost really dead voice startled them. Rio had disappeared again, but Y/N’s eyes flashed from her place on the floor. “At least wake me up.”

The others laughed tearfully, relieved, but as Agatha rushed to your side, still a mess of hair, tears and dried mud, they gathered the fire away from them.

“Y/N...sunshine. I’m...”

“Don’t, love. Don’t even think of it.” the maimed witch intercepted, reaching out just one hand to touch her left cheek. Her thumb caressed her face. “I’m here. And I'm not going anywhere. It's not easy to free yourself from me.”

“And i don’t want to.”, her lips pressed against your forehead, kissing it before pecking your lips. “I’m sorry I keep drowning you into my mess. This is unaceptable.”

“Aggy. Please, stop.” even laying down, you could still command her with those sweet eyes. “It’s not your fault.’

“But...”

“No buts. Now, come here.”

As you gently pulled Agatha down, her arms were protective around you. Your body still ached, but as your heartbeat fell into the same rhythm of Agatha’s, there was no doubt you would survive. With your head on her chest, your heavy eyes fell onto the image of the coven exchanging a cup of water they found. Behind them, the shadow of Death blinked slowly at you, turning her back before cutting Billy’s reality to step out.

It wasn’t over, but the worst was.

"I love you." Her voice hummed against your hair.

And you would do all over again for her.

[heaven4lostgirls]

hello luv! Could you possibly do a poly! marauders with reader who has issues sleeping like some times she can’t sleep for three nights straight and the next day she’ll fall asleep in the middle of class and can’t keep her eyes open? xxx

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: request above!

warnings: mentions of not sleeping well, insomnia? not sure. mentions of regulus also not sleeping well.

word count: 2.1K

a/n: really enjoyed writing this, hope you enjoy it! thanks for the request!

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The emptiness on your side of James’ bed is what wakes him up. He blinks blearily as he stretches to reach over to your side of the bed. He’s greeted by an untouched duvet and perfectly stacked pillows.

As if you had never come to bed at all.

Worry gnaws at his heart as he turns over to look at Remus and Sirius’ beds to check if maybe you snuck off to them instead.

Instead, all he sees is Pete’s snoring figure underneath his covers and Remus and Sirius cuddled up together on the latter’s bed as the former’s bed looks unfortunately similar to the right side of his bed.

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and thinks better than waking up Remus and Sirius to find you. He grasps his glasses off of his nightstand and tiptoes to his trunk to grab the map.

With a quick glance he’s surprised to find you in the Gryffindor common room, not far at all.

He stuffs the map  back into his trunk as he grabs a jumper that he tugs on as he walks sleepily out of the dorm and down the stairs.

He’s greeted by the sight of you curled up on the long sleeper couch in front of the fire as you have one of Remus’ novels in your hands.

He can see the tiredness wearing you down and the frustration that you can’t seem to give into it.

His feet shuffle against the marble floor which alerts you to his presence, you take a quick glance and frown worriedly as you catch a sleep befuddled James shuffling towards you.

He collapses on top of you with an uncoordinated movement and you let out a small whoosh of air.

“You didn’t come to bed” he murmurs into your neck before he sighs out blissfully as your hands cascade into his curls.

“I couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to worry you” you murmur back, and he frowns softly before pulling away to look into your eyes.

“I would have helped” he frowns and you smile before pulling your hand out of his hair and smoothing out the frown lines on his face.

“S’okay, I’m used to it” you shrug offhandedly and James lips tug down again.

“I’m sorry love” James says and his big brown eyes blink lovingly and morosely at you.

You only shake your head and push him to lay back down on your shoulder.

“Not your fault Jamie, s’just how it is” you say and go back to running your hands through his hair..

He lets out small puffs  of breath against your collarbone as you feel his form start to melt into you.

You’re unjustifiably jealous as you realise he’s fallen back to sleep, his breathing evening out to notify you enough that he’s no longer conscious

You feel your frustration rising and your form tensing enough that it has James whining in his sleep and snuggling into you harder.

You relax, helpless against your boyfriend as you try to keep your tears at bay.

You just wanted to sleep. It wasn’t fair that you had to work twenty times harder than the average person just to do something your body should do naturally.

It had been days since you had last gotten a proper nights sleep, you’d been relying on naps that lasted anywhere from 20 minutes to 2 hours at most.

It was enough to have you functioning but too little that people had started noticing, Sirius had tried to spray some of his lavender oil onto your pillow which had only assaulted your nostrils.

Remus had offered to give you a massage to help ease the tension in your muscles and relax you but that had only worked until he had stopped.

James had volunteered to do some quidditch practice together but that had only resulted in sore muscles in which Remus had to massage.

In conclusion, you were fucked.

Truly, you had tried everything, and you knew the only way to really go through this process was to wait it out.

Your boyfriends were less than willing to let you wait it out, they hated the idea of knowing you were struggling without being able to help.

You turn your gaze to the fire as you watch the flames crackle in the darkness of the semi-lit common room.

Time continues to pass and soon the sun is taking the place of the moon in the window behind you. As the sun rises, you shuffle carefully out from under James as you leave him with a pillow to cuddle.

You make your way to your dorm and a quick casting of tempus tells you that it’s 5 minutes past 6AM.

Early enough for none of your roommates to be awake but late enough for it to be acceptable for you to be getting ready.

You understand this is your reality, something you have to deal with. Some things come easier for you than it does for others and vice versa. It’s just unfortunate yours had to be a healthy sleep schedule.

As you go through your morning routine you cycle through explanations you can give to people about why you weren’t in bed and why you were up so early.

Fortunately, there was an astronomy assignment you could use as a scapegoat for your sleepless endeavours.

Less fortunately, the only people who wouldn’t believe your lies were the only people  you really wished would.

Remus, Sirius and James were all too aware of the fact that you struggled with sleeping, and you harboured some resentment towards yourself for stressing them out over such a trivial matter.

At least that was how you saw it.

By the time you had finished your morning routine, taken a shower and dressed into your uniform, it was 7AM. Breakfast would only start at half past, so you had time to wonder around the castle a bit and get some studying done.

Considering your lack of sleep, you were already quite ahead in assignments, nearly as ahead as Remus and Lily.

Those two really were the swots they swore they weren’t.

You make your way out of your dorm quietly as you grab your bag, as you pass through the common room you take a second to take in James’ sleeping form as you press a sweet kiss on his forehead.

He smiles in his sleep  which brings a soft one to your face as you walk out of the portrait hole.

The castle is lovely early in the morning, quiet and undisturbed by the bustling crowds of Hogwarts students that will soon plague the halls.

Now you can admire how the sun warms the walls of the outer barriers and how some of the portrait’s chatter to themselves in a quiet symphony.

The library is open, so you make your way there, slipping into a familiar alcove as you open the book you had been reading the night before.

The unfortunate side effects of reading whilst running on no sleep catches up to you as you feel your eyelids start to flutter.

You wish this would’ve happened last night, or really any of the other nights you had tried to get some rest.

Since  you can’t afford to miss your classes for the day, you shake yourself awake and make your way to breakfast as soon as possible.

As you reach the doors of the great hall, you’re met with the scrutinizing gazes of your boyfriends as they sleepily look over all the students who have also decided to have an early breakfast.

You’re shocked, truly.

It’s one thing for Remus to be out of bed and at breakfast early, he’s only grouchy until he has a cup of coffee, James basically lives for early mornings but what really takes the cake is whoever let Sirius get up before 8AM.

He looks like he’s taken a shower and done his usual morning routine,  but you can see him complaining as he stabs his eggs, his sleep really is important to him.

As you make your way to the Gryffindor table, you catch the sight of Regulus and Barty at the Slytherin table.

You know he also has trouble sleeping, many nights of meeting and bonding in the astronomy tower had told you that much. Before you two had gotten into relationships, those nights had been your crutch.

You both share a small smile before you pass them, James nudges Sirius harshly in the side at the sight of you,  which in turn causes a chain reaction of Sirius yelping and pushing Remus which causes him to spill his coffee and let out a string of curses.

The chaos stops when you reach the bench in front of them and take a seat, there’s only silence. Which surprises you, silence has never been synonymous with the marauders.

“You lot are awake early” you remark softly as you smile and take your seat. They  all exchange a glass before Remus clears his throat and looks at you.

“Where were you?” he asks, not confrontationally, just curious

Your shoulders migrate to your ears as you offer them all a soft shrug, “I was in my dorm, why?” you ask

You see Remus hesitate before James jumps in, “I woke up alone in the common room” he says sadly and you frown in sympathy.

“I’m sorry Jamie, I just couldn’t-” you start

“Sleep, we know” the three of them chorus together and your cheeks warm.

“Sorry” you mumble as you push your breakfast around on your plate.

“Nothing to be sorry for angel, we just wish you’d come to us” Sirius offers placatingly, and you nod numbly

“It’s just, hard y’know?” you say

“We know, but we want to take care of you” he replies, and you can only nod as you munch on your breakfast.

You can feel the tiredness catching up to you so instead of your usual glass of water or juice in the morning, you grab a cup of coffee to chug down before your first class.

The boys watch you with a nervous energy, three days of not sleeping is not good for anyone. You’re bound to crash out at some point.

You walk sluggishly alongside the boys to your DADA class and as you take a seat next to Remus, Sirius and James take their seats in front of the two of you.

You try and listen as the class continues, but the words start to blur as you glance at your textbook and black spots dart around your vision.

You allow yourself a few seconds to lay your head on the desk to rest, the soft scraping of Remus’ quill against the parchment and Sirius and James’ soft whispering lulls you to sleep.

Your breathing evens out as you fall asleep, cheek pressed against your textbook and hair framing your face.

Remus pauses in his note taking as he takes a quick glance to you. He huffs a small laugh as he catches your sleeping figure.

He turns backwards to catch the eyes of his boyfriends as he tilts his head to your sleeping form in amusement.

Although Sirius shares some of his amusement, James’ worry betrays itself in his eyes.

Sirius offers him a comforting smile before learning towards his boyfriend and whispering the word ‘cloak’ which has James’ smile shifting from worry to excitement.

Always one to skip class, James makes quick work of throwing the cloak over himself as Remus and Sirius try to act inconspicuous.

Remus shakes you awake softly as Sirius quickly levitates all of your belongings back into your bag which he slings over his shoulder.

You blink drowsily and look at Remus, who helps shift you towards James outstretched arms in the back corner on the class.

All you can do is sleepily walk into his arms as he wraps the cloak around the both of you as he carries you out of the class.

He waits outside to see Remus walk out the classroom confidently before a crash and a curse is heard before Sirius runs out of the class.

Remus looks at him with a baffled expression. “The fuck did you do?!” Remus asks incredulously.

Sirius gives him a glare, “hex Carrow, what’d you do?!”

“…Ask to go to the bathroom” Remus replies, and Sirius’ mouth drops open.

James huffs a laugh which has you jostling in his hold, he mutters a small apology as he adjusts you comfortably in his arms with your legs wrapped around his waist and his arms around his neck.

“Dorm?” Sirius offers with a fond look to your face peaking out and Remus nods as they make the walk back to the dorm.

[samandcolbyownme]

Colby smut??

Summary: reader flips their humanity switch off after a tragic event and Colby works to get her back.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of death, reader loses best friend, blood, blood drinking, compulsion, bitchy!reader, drinking, kissing, hair pulling, choking, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie, general filth

Word Count: 5.5k | unedited

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Your watery eyes scanned over the banquet hall, your head nodding with each person that comes up to pay their respects to you for the recent loss.

“Loaded question.. but..” Colby sits down next to you, “Are you okay?”

You sniffle, nodding as you look at him, “Yeah, yeah. I just… I think I’ve had enough of this for one day.” You stand up, making your way to the parents of your best friend, “Hey.. guys..”

“Y/n.” Jen, Raya’s mom sighs, “Thank you..” she pulls you into a hug, squeezing tight, “Thank you for everything you’ve done today, you are family to us, and I just.. if you need anything please don’t hesitate to call us or stop by.”

“Thank you, and same for you and Jason. Raya was...” You sigh, fighting back tears, “She was.. everything to be. The best person I could have ever had in my life. I loved her like she was my own sister.”

You feel Jen’s body jolt with her sobs and she steps back, “You were the best person she could have had in her life, too.” She rubs your cheek and you turn to give her father, Jason, a hug.

“You were good to her, kid. I’m so happy you stuck around with us.”

You smile and nod, “Me too.”

You turn around, Colby tilting his head slightly as you walk back over to him.

Colby was your best friend, too. Well, you were more than friends but not really official lovers.

“I think, I’m going home.” You pick your jacket up from your chair and Colby stands up, “Do you want me to drive you home?”

“No.” You shake your head as you put your coat on, “I need to walk home. I think the time to reflect on everything will be good for me.” You flick your hair out and sigh, “Tell Sam and everyone I said bye.”

“Okay.” Colby nods, “If you need-“

“I can handle myself, Colbs.” You shoot him a smile and turn to leave.

As soon as you walk out, the cool air hits you and your demeanor changes, and you push yourself into step one of your plan - finding somewhere no one will find you.

You walk down the street, hands in your pockets as you think about everything today, yesterday, last week.

Raya Tylers. Beloved best friend and daughter, has died.

You couldn’t help but blame yourself, hate yourself for allowing her death to happen, but as Colby keeps saying, it didn’t have anything to do with you. There isn’t anything you could have done to help her.

You walk across the street, moving in the opposite direction of your house.

You only had a short time to do this because once Colby and the others showed up at your house to find you no where do be found, the search party would ensue.

You stood at the tree line, listening behind you for anything- anyone, and nothing. You vamp through the trees, coming to a stop when everything you’ve been putting off hits you like a ton of bricks.

You gasp for air, bending down as you fight back the sobbing but you can’t control it. Gasps and sniffles fill the dark air as you let out everything.

You fall back, leaning up against the tree, hands covering your face as you feel the mascara burn your crying eyes.

You tilt your head back, staring up at the space through the dead tree at the night sky.

“Fuck.” You sniffle, “God..damn it.”

You get up, wiping your face as best you can before taking a few deep breathes to try and calm down. Raya was the first friend you made when you came to this tiny little town. She was there for you when you first turned, she wasn’t afraid of you.

She was there for you through everything, high school, your mom moving away. Your drunken nights when you couldn’t stop going on and on about Colby.

Colby was a vampire, too. You knew he knew how you felt, you just had too much on your plate at the time to add a relationship, and he understood that.

Your head was filled with so much guilt, remorse, hatred. You felt like you were spinning. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, you knew life wasn’t going to be the same without her and you didn’t want anything to do with it.

You took one last breath before closing your eyes, and everything shifted.

You opened your eyes and you looked around, “Huh.” You laugh slightly, “Thought that would be a lot more dramatic.”

You take a step, stopping when you hear the distant sound of campers within the same woods as you, “Noooo, give it back, Will!”

“I think you’ve had enough, Marcy.”

“My name.. is Marissa.”

“Snack time.” You smirk to yourself and vamp through the trees, stopping when you reach the chair the girl is sitting on.

“Whoa!” The guy jumps up, pointing to you, “Where did you come from?”

“Oh me?” You laugh, looking down at the girl staring up at you with a frightened look on her face. The guy laughs slightly, “Yeah, yeah you.”

“Just passing by.” You lean down, staring the girl in the eyes, “You are going to sit still for me and you’re not going to make a peep, got it?”

She nods and you tilt your head up to look at the guy, “And you-“

“What did you- no. Fuck this.” He takes off running and you sigh as you stand up, “Why do they already do that?” You speed and catch up to him, holding him by the shoulders as you look into his eyes, “Go back to your campsite, don’t make a sound.”

He turns, walking back to his camp in silence.

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes as you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out and sigh as you answer it, “I’m fine, Colby. Okay? You don’t need to check on me every two minutes.”

You walk back to the camp, smirking as you see the guy and girl sitting in their chairs staring at you.

“Well, you aren’t here and you said you were coming here, so that’s kind of.. weird.” Colby pauses, but speaks when you don’t, “What are y-where are you?”

“I’m not home. Simple as that, now if you’ll excuse me. I have a dinner date.” You pull the phone away and right as you’re about to hang up, Colby’s words cause your head to tilt.

“You turned it off.”

You bring the phone back up to your ear and you let out a sigh, “Wow, pretty and smart, look at you go.”

“Why?”

“I gotta go.” You hang up and tuck your phone back into your pocket before walking up to the girl, “Marissa, is it?” You bend down in front of her, “I’m just gonna take a little bite. Hope that’s okay.”

You stand up, “I mean, of course it is, right?” You walk around and bend down, sinking your fangs into her neck.

It wasn’t long until her body fell forward, lying limp on the ground by the fire. You wipe the corner of your mouth with your thumb, licking the blood from it as you walk over to the guy, “I never got your name, hmm. Too bad I don’t really care.”

You sink your fangs into his neck, finishing him off within a matter of seconds before standing up.

You push his body back into his chair and roll your eyes as your phone once again vibrates repeatedly.

You pull it out, watching the screen go from Colby’s incoming call to your lock screen with a bunch of texts from your so called friends.

Colby: please tell me you didn’t turn it off

Sam: Y/n, please. Colby is worried about you.

Colby: just remember that I do care about you

You tap on Colby’s texts, sighing as you type, You keep pushing me and these two bodies won’t be the last ones they find in the woods.

“Oops.” You purse your lips, “Guess I just blew my location.” You look at the two bodies, “It’s been swell, guys. But, I gotta run.”

Colby texts back, but I can’t live without you. Please y/n, don’t do this, you don’t have to.

You stare at the screen, typing out a quick text before hitting send, then die.

You turn your phone off and take off before anyone can catch up to you.

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“Another one please.”

The bartender looks from your empty glass then back up to you, “I don’t think I can do that.”

“And.. why not?” You scoff, “Do I really seem that drunk to you?” You tilt your head, “Really, I want your answer to that.”

“You’ve had… a lot, Miss. I just-“

“Look.” You lean in, sighing as you look up at him, “I just buried my best friend a few hours ago because of something that could have probably been easily avoided, but that’s not the point. The point is, I just want to drink, and drink, and drink and you..” You wave your finger at him, “Mr. Bartender, are getting in the way of that, and I’d really prefer if you weren’t, so why don’t you just do you job.. and get me another drink.”

He sighs and nods, “Coming right up.”

“Thank you. See, that wasn’t so hard.” You roll your eyes and look around. You spot a guy hanging over the banister, but it wasn’t his looks that caught your attention, it was the fact that you knew his blood probably tasted so good.

“Thank you.” You huff as you snatch your glass from the bar and stand up. You make your way up the steps, your eyes staying on his, just like his were on you.

You walk up next to him and he turns, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this moment right here?”

You smirk, taking a sip through your straw, “Seen you looking at me. What? Didn’t expect me to be this forward?”

He shakes his head, “No, not really. Girls from around here aren’t like that. Always playing hard to get.”

“Mm.” You shrug, “Well, lucky for you.. I’m not from here. I’m from a little town, about an hour and a half away. Nothing fancy.”

“Tiegen Mills?” He raises a brow, “Isn’t that place crawling with supernatural?”

“Those are all just myths..” you raise your brows, “Your name?”

“Oh, Zander.” He extends his hand out and you take it, nodding your head, “Serina, and yes. Tiegen Mills.” You lean in, inhaling his scent, “You smell delicious.”

He chuckles, “Oh, well, thanks. It’s a new cologne I-“

“I wasn’t talking about that, Zander.” You smirk, staring into his eyes, “Follow me.”

He takes your hand into his and you lead him to a small supply room, pushing him in before you follow.

“What.. did you mean then?” He asks with a nervous chuckle and you walk up to him, smirking in the dim lighting, “I meant the blood coursing through those veins of yours.”

You lick your lips, cutting him off from speaking, “Don’t move, don’t make a sound. Just let me have a taste.”

You waste no time sinking your teeth into his neck, sucking and pulling the blood from punctured veins.

You spin him around, pushing him against the wall as you continue to siphon.

You hear the door open and you instantly know who is standing there, “What did I say?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure you’re okay.”

You look over at Colby, picking the blood from your lips, “How’d you find me?” You watch as Colby steps in, sighing as he closes the door, “Can you let your little friend go before we have this conversation?”

“What? You don’t want any?” You smirk, pulling away from the guy standing there in silence, “Come on, it’s so good.”

“I’m fine.” Colby shakes his head, “Let him go, and we can go somewhere to talk.”

“Talk?” You scoff, “I don’t need to talk. I’m doing just fine.”

“Are you?”

You squint your eyes at him, “Yeah, Colby. Underestimate me. That’ll be fun.” You turn back to finish your job and you feel a hands on your waist before your thrown back into the wall.

“What the fuck?” You watch as Colby bites his wrist and pushes it to Zander’s lips. Once he pulls his wrist away, he wipes off his neck and looks into his eyes, “You won’t remember any of this. You’ll forget her. Go home.”

Zander walks away, leaving you in the supply closet alone with Colby.

“Again. What the fuck, Colby?” You look at him and he shrugs, “You’re getting sloppy, y/n. Coming to a busy club with multiple potential witnesses?” He scoffs, “Thought you were better than this.”

“Fuck you. I don’t need a babysitter. I was going to heal him, well.” You smirk, “That was until you barged in and interrupted my moment.”

“You were going to kill him.” Colby states and you laugh, “Yeah.” You breathe out, “I was.” You glance towards the door, “Where’s your backup partner, Sam? He come along, too?”

Colby shrugs and you groan, “Let’s just get down to it. Are you guys here to stake me? Shoot me with a tranquilizer to drag me back home and drain me until I’m ready to turn everything that you want me to feel back on?”

He raises his brows, “God, you are bitchy when you’re like this.”

You smile, “That’s gotta be one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.”

“Yeah, okay.” He rolls his eyes, “so where you headed next? You’re just going to leave everything and everyone behind like they don’t mean anything?”

You purse your lip, staring at him like he should already know the answer to that question, “Um, yeah pretty much. Do I need to spell it out for you or something?”

He clenches his jaw and you smirk, “Aw.” You tilt your head, “Am I finally getting under that skin or yours?”

“No you’re just pissing me off.”

“Well.. then.. why don’t we go somewhere else and take care of that?” You walk up to him, “I’ve always liked you, Colby. Well.” You scoff, “That was until you decided to ruin my plan of running away from everything.”

“See, you know what you’re doing, so why can’t you just-“

“I never said I didn’t? God, Colby. I turned off my humanity. I didn’t become stupid.” You walk over to the door and Colby vamps over to stand in between you and your only exit route, “You need to flip it back on.”

“Or what?” You raise your brows, “You’re going to leave me? Please, that would just be easier on m-“

Colby cuts you off with a kiss - a rough, kiss.

He pushes you back into the wall, his teeth sinking into your lower lip, “Is this what you want?” He leans back as his hands move to undo your jeans, “For me to fuck your humanity back into you?”

You bite your lip, “I mean.. you can try, but I’m telling you right now, it’s going to take a lot more than this one time to even get me to budge.”

“We got all the time in the world, y/n.”

His lips crash back onto yours as you work to undo his belt, followed by his jeans. You switch to your own, kicking them off as he pushes his down, “This isn’t-“

“Shut up.” You cut him off by pulling him back in for a kiss. You jump up, his arms catching your legs and you feel the rip of his cock slide into you. You tilt your head back, a moan leaving your lips as he thrusts in fully.

Your fingers slip under the collar of his jacket and your nails dig into his skin, “Fuck, Colby. Just like that.”

You look down at him, your jaw staying open as your eyes lock onto his. He groans lowly, his hand pressing into the wall by your head, “Not how I wanted to do this, y/n.”

“Can you just.. not talk for five minutes.” You huff as you slide your hand up to the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling hard has he rails into you from below.

Colby clenches his jaw, his fingers digging into your hip hard, “Fuck.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” You smirk as your head rests back against the wall, “Feels so fucking good.”

Colby leans in, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking, which warns more moans from you, “Should have done this sooner, Colbs.” You look down at him with a smirk, “You know what you’re doing.”

“Flip it back on and we can do anything you want.”

“You’ll do it anyway.” You smirk, “I know how much you like me.”

“And I know how much you like me.” He tilts his head, his thrusts coming to a stop, “Why won’t you turn it back on?”

“Can’t this wait?” You glance down, “Kind of in the middle of something.” You smirk, “I mean, doesn’t really matter anyway, you stop now and I’m sure I can find some other-“

In one swift motion, you’re on your back on the floor, Colby railing into you once again.

You moan loudly, your legs tightening around his waist, “Jealous?”

“I just hate you using shit against me when you clearly know how I feel.” He crashes his lips onto yours, muffling your moans with his own, “Just stop this. Come home to me.”

You don’t say anything. You just squeeze your eyes shut as your orgasm rolls, your moans becoming louder as his thrusts guide you through.

Colby finishes after, his cock twitching inside of you as you lay there breathing heavy.

He grabs your chin, turning your head towards him, “I don’t want to have to hurt you, y/n.”

“So then don’t. Just accept that this is who I am now?” You sit up as he moves off of you, standing up to put your pants back on, “Literally not that hard.”

Colby scoffs, following it up with a laugh, “If you had your humanity, you’d know that this is hell for me, y/n.”

“So why didn’t you say anything sooner? You know, maybe this is your fault. Did you ever think about that? Maybe if I had you telling me how much you actually loved me and didn’t just treat me like a friend most of the time, maybe this could have been avoided.”

“Yeah because this is everyone else’s fault but your own.” Colby buckles his belt, “No one forced you to turn it off. No one-“

“Look, this has been a great rendezvous, and all.. but I’ve clearly made up my mind, and if you can’t accept that.. than..” you shrug, “I don’t know what to tell you.”

Colby walks up to you, his hands on your hips, “Don’t do this to me. Please. Im sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, believe me, I should have. I shouldn’t have pushed those feelings down.”

You bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, giving him a smile before twisting his head. You drop his body to the ground, along with your smile and step over it.

You open the door, looking to your left to see Sam push himself up off the banister.

You close the door and look back at him with a smirk, “He’ll wake up in a few hours.”

You see Sam’s expression change into a form of worry and then you were gone.

Onto the next place.

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A few days later, you decided to turn your phone on again. Honestly, you were having too much fun to even remember you turned it off to begin with.

You see a bunch of old texts flowing in, missed called and what not.

You smirk as you read over Colby’s recent text, If you think snapping my neck is going to stop me from helping you, you’re mistaken.

You roll your eyes, tossing your phone onto the bed of your hotel room. You look at the girl sitting frightened in your chair, unable to move or speak.

You bend down, “Answer my questions and only my questions.”

She nods and you tilt your head, “What’s your name?”

“Hannah.”

“Hannah.” You repeat as you brush her hair away from her neck, “How old are you?” You glance back up at her from the pulsing vein in her neck.

“Twenty eight.”

“Twenty eight. Hmm. You have so much life ahead of you.” You smirk, “I’ll tell you what. You give me what I want, and since I’m not a total monster, I’ll let you go?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” You lean forward, biting into her neck. You groan at the taste of her blood hitting your tongue, “You taste.. so good, Hannah.”

You feel her body twitch and tense under your grip and you lean back, “Feel okay?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” As you lean in, a knock on the door stops you from continuing and you sigh, “I swear to god.”

“Open up.” Colby’s voice rings through your ears, “Or I’ll bust the door down.”

“Can’t you just take a fucking hint?” You stand up, biting into your wrist and pressing it to Hannah’s lips, “God, breaking your neck wasn’t enough?”

“You read my text, so you should know my answer to that, sweetheart.”

You scoff, pulling Hannah to her feet, “Forget everything that happened here.” You push her towards the door, “Go away.”

She walks to the door and leaves. Colby stops it from shutting and walks in, “Wow. Nice room.”

“Listen, unless you came here to..” you tilt your head, bringing you hands up to apply air quotes, “Fuck the humanity back into me..” you shake your head, dropping your hands, “You can go.”

Colby shrugs, lifting his shirt from his body, “If you say so.”

You vamp to him, your hands sliding up his bare torso, “You really are hot.” You look up at him and he smirks, “Yeah, so are you.”

He goes in for a kiss but you push him back, “This is too easy. What trick are you trying to pull?”

He shrugs, “No tricks, y/n. If you want to be this person, I can live with it.”

“This seems too easy. Seriously, Colby. If I find out you’re trying to pull something, I’ll literally kill you.”

He chuckles, “Yeah yeah, not like you haven’t tried before.” He walks over to you, pushing you back onto the bed, “Just shut up and let me fuck you.”

You raise your brows, biting onto your lip as he crawls up your body. He pulls your shirt up with his teeth before kissing over your bare skin.

Your breath hitches as he bites down and you pull him up to kiss him.

He pushes down your sweats and you kick them off as quickly as you can while he pushes down his pants, “Can’t stop thinking about you.”

“In a sex way, or you’re worried about me way?”

“Both.” He kisses back your jaw and reaches down to draw circles over your clit, “You just felt so good around me yesterday, had to find you for more.”

“Mm.” You smirk, “A part of me doesn’t believe you.”

“Yeah?” Colby moves down your body, lifting your legs to lay over his shoulders, “Let me just.. spell it out for you then.”

You watch as his head dips down between your thighs, gasping out as his tongue swirls around your clit, “Fuck.”

Your fingers lace through his hair, tugging as he makes his way down to slip his tongue inside of you.

You moan loudly as your back arches off the bed, “Fuuuck, Colby. So fucking good.”

He looks up at you and your lips part, panting as his tongue works to get you to believe him.

Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself coming undone, “Shit, shit.” You pull his hair harder, moaning out louder as he guides you through your high before pulling away.

He crawls up, but you quickly flip him over to straddle him. Your brows furrow and your nails dig into his chest as you sink down onto him, quickly getting into a rhythm of bouncing your hips.

His hands grip your waist and his lip pulls between his teeth as he groans deeply, “Fuck, baby. Just like that.”

You look down at him, “Don’t do that. I don’t want you getting attached.” You shake your head, tilting it as you moan out, “I’m still pissed at you.”

“That’s fine, you can be pissed at me all you want. Doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.” His grip tightens, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m relentless when it comes to you.”

“No, you just don’t want me dropping bodies and having our secret discovered.” You roll your eyes, “Please.”

Colby thrusts upward, earning a whine from your lips, “Imagine how good this would be if you had your emotions back on, y/n.”

“I don’t want to imagine anything, Colby.” You slam your hips down, “Fuck, I’m so close again.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just allows you to fuck yourself on him.

“Fuck, fuck.” You tilt your head back, moaning loudly as your walls squeeze around him. Your nails drag down his chest as you roll your hips, guiding yourself through your own high.

“My turn.” Colby moves you onto the bed, flipping you over onto your stomach. He pulls your hips up, instantly sliding back into you.

You grip the blanket beneath you, moaning out as his thrusts aren’t anywhere close to being gentle.

His hand comes down with a hard crack to your ass and you moan out, “Again.”

He chuckles lowly and doesn’t again, same spot, which earns a whimper from you, “Fuck, Colby.”

His hand slides up into your hair, gripping tightly to pull your head back. He leans forward, looking down at you, “What will it take for you to give up, turn it back on? Hmm.”

You roll your eyes, averting your stare away from him, “Why won’t you just give up already?”

“Because.” He leans down to whisper into your ear, “I love you, and I want nothing more than a life with you.”

You scoff, throwing your hips back to meet his, “Shut up.”

He sighs, moving back to grip both of your hips with his hands, “It’ll be rough at first but I promise to be there.”

“Mhm.” You bite down on your lip, fighting back giving him any satisfaction through your moans. He pulls you back to meet each of his thrusts, making it harder for you to continue fighting.

“Just flip it back, baby.”

“Colby.”

“C’mon. We can have a good life.”

You bend down, burying your face into the bed to moan. Your curses are muffled by the thick comforter and soon enough you feel Colby twitch inside, coating your walls with his cum.

He pulls out and flops down next to you.

You lay down and look over at him, “We can have a good life just how it is. No strings attached. You not trying to make me go back to the hellhole of a town.”

“You don’t want to face that Raya is gone. I get that. But having your humanity off isn’t helping anyone, y/n.”

You stare at him, “It’s helping me, and aren’t I the most important person in my life?”

“Well yeah, but-“

“Then problem solved. I’m happy now.” You move to stand up, “I’m going for a shower. You gonna be here when I get out?”

“Do you want me to be?” He sits up and you shrug, “I don’t really care what you do, Colby.” You walk into the bathroom and close the door.

After your shower, you walk back out, “You’re still here. I am not surprised at all.” You roll your eyes and walk over to sit down on the bed.

“I told you, I’m relentless.” Colby chuckles and sits up from laying down, “I care about you. Even if you told me to die. Even if you snapped my neck. I’m not giving up on you.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” You glance back at him as you stand up to put your sweats back on, “Because I haven’t slept all night and I could really use some sleep.”

“Fine. Take a nap.” Colby motions to the bed as he lays back down and you sigh, putting on your shirt before you sit back down, “Whatever.”

You lay down and stare at the wall, taking a few deep breathes before you fall asleep.

“Hey wait up.”

You stop, running around to see Raya running towards you, “Hey! I thought you weren’t coming back for another few days.” You pull her in for a hug, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you. The trip was boring, and I missed my best friend.” She leans back, “Please promise me you won’t turn off your humanity.”

“Why would I do that?” You tilt your head, giving her a laugh, “That’s the worst thing a vampire can do.”

“I know, but just in case anything happens to me, I don’t need you going off the rails and making everyone’s life hell.” She raises her brows, “Please.”

You shake your head, “Why are you all of a sudden worrying about that? What’s going to happen to you?”

“I’m going to die, y/n, and I need you to be okay with that and know that it wasn’t your fault.”

You step back, “Stop it.” She reaches out for you but you slap her hand away, “You’re not here.” She nods, “I am. I’m always with you, but not if you’re not you.”

“Colby!” You scream, “Get out of my head!”

You snap awake, pushing him away from you hard. He falls off the bed and to the floor, slowly standing up, “You know it’s what she would have wanted. She wouldn’t be happy with you right now.”

“She’s dead. Colby.” You swing your legs off of the bed, “She isn’t coming back.”

“Exactly. She isn’t coming back! Why do you want to block out the memories of her? Because you can’t handle a little pain? Y/n, I’ve seen you pull a wooden stake out of your stomach without flinching.”

“That. No. This isn’t the same as that.” You stand up, “You fucking lied to me. You said you didn’t have a trick and yet you fucking lied to me.”

You grab the chair next to you and smash it, leaving only a wooden leg in your hand, “I should have never fucking trusted you.”

You raise your arms and Colby knocks your legs out from under you, pinning you down on the floor, “Stop. Fighting it. Let the feelings in.”

“Get. Off. Of. Me.” You say through gritted teeth, “Now!”

“No.” Colby shakes his head and moves to grab your head.

“So.. you like y/n?” Raya teases Colby, “You know she likes you too right? I mean, you guys wouldn’t flirt like you do if there wasn’t something between you guys, right?”

Colby nods, smiling a big smile, “Yeah. Yeah. I just know she has a lot on her plate right now. Her mom leaving, her college studies.” He shrugs, “I’m here for her though. She knows it.”

Raya laughs, shaking her head, “God I hope I get to see the two of you get married.”

“Whoa, hey. We haven’t even had a first date yet.” Colby laughs and she smiles, “Just man up and ask her already. You know she’ll say yes.”

“What-“ you blink, “No, let me see her again!” You grab Colby’s head, “Let me see her again!”

“Y/n.. I-“

“Don’t. Don’t even say you can’t because I know there’s more. Colby, please.” Your voice breaks and you feel tears welling up in your eyes, “P-please.”

“Let it in. Y/n. I’m right here.” Colby cups your cheek and you close your eyes, flipping the switch.

You burst into tears, falling into him as everything you’ve pushed off floods in like a dam bursting. You can’t even speak, your sobs take over and Colby holds onto you tight, “I got you, sweetheart.”

His hand rubs up and down your back as you sob against his chest, “I-I’m so-so sor-ry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Colby kisses your head, “I get it. If anything were to happen to you.. I’d flip it off, too.”

You look up at him, “Thank you.. for bringing me back..” you sniffle, “I’m sorry I put you through hell.. and-and broke your neck and I-“

You sob again and Colby chuckles slightly, “It’s fine. It’s fine. Just relax. Deep breathes.” He presses a kiss to your head, “I’ll do anything for you. I love you.”

“E-even after ev-“

“Even after everything.”

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Sorry for making you guys wait! I hope this made up for it a little bit! I love you all sooo much! Thank you for reading! 🖤 I’ll catch you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[biancadoes1]

Remember when Nicola said people want her to marry Luke in probably one of the most esteemed articles about her to date? And she gushed about how special their friendship is but didn’t say that they’re only friends or even didn’t say “like cute but that’s never going to happen”, in fact she didn’t even have to mention him because she wasn’t really asked about him?

And remember that Nicola is doing an audiobook about an actress on a regency era show falling in love with her costar after feeling a spark doing their scenes? And it’s coming out the day before Luke’s birthday?

Those are all fun things to remember

Yeah the amount of people that tried to reach to explain why she brought up people wanting her to marry Luke was far too many and the excuses that came with them were very entertaining.

While I may have questions about why that quote was likely added to the online version and not to print (speculation but the paper moon she gave us only had one meaning that week), there's really no explanation that equates to being just friends or only friends.

The fire was simmering on the ship until that point. She poured gasoline on it with mentioning Luke and marriage in the same sentence.

Combine this with the damn audio book she's got coming out?

We almost wouldn't need chaos week - but I'm so thankful we do have it.

I know it gets hard being on the ship when we go long stretches with nothing and everything from everyone else but just remember to have patience. We're all here for a reason and we've all stayed (I feel like I've been put through the fucking ringer man) because of what we've been given.

Hopefully we're getting closer to something.

[machveil]

okay pookies!! I’m in a writers slump so I’m going to pop off some mini blurbs with Instagram links<3 because the words are not being written correctly for my wips [cries]🎀✨

Simon “Ghost” Riley

playing with his cat

admittedly, Simon is up at odd hours from bouts of insomnia. it doesn’t really bother him when his cat is up too, sitting in bed and flipping him around. it’s cute, more so funny when he flips his cat off and gets pounced on, not taking it seriously - one of the rare times he’ll let chuckle and crack a smile to himself

John Price:

pranking Price by telling him your tampon is stuck

John comes as soon as you call for him - what he wasn’t expecting was you telling him your tampons stuck. but John’s smart, he sees your phone in his peripheral and doesn’t say anything about it. he knows your pranking him, if it wasn’t obvious from your phone recording him and the way you giggle, well, “I know you’re cycle, love.”

driving around to see Christmas lights

John loves his dog, just a sweetheart. one thing his dog loves is seeing Christmas lights - John doesn’t really know why, but he’s more than happy to drive around so his puppy can see them all. it makes him chuckle seeing their tail wag, heater keeping the car nice and warm as they drive down a couple blocks

John “Soap” MacTavish:

bear hugging Johnny

you didn’t really know what Johnny was doing, you just knew you wanted to hug him. it’s out of the blue, catches him off guard in a way that has him asking if you’re okay - and you are. he doesn’t waste time, moving to scoop you up, hold you close and goof around. he had been organizing your books, just a little surprise

asking Recruiter!Johnny questions

Johnny didn’t want to be stuck recruiting people, but he somehow got picked to do it. what he wasn’t expecting was your question, “Are you hot?”. he wants to sputter out, try to be slick - respond with a, “Well, you can come find out.”, but he stops himself. he knows he’ll be telling the 141 about this, chest puffed up and a lopsided smile as he brags

showing off for the neighbors

Johnny is springy and flexible, his ass can dance. if you catch him while he’s on a jog he’ll flag you down and start flipping around. he’s a show off, it goes to his head how the neighborhood moms watch him. his show is for you, but he won’t turn down the ego boost he gets from others eyeing him up

“you know where the matter daddy is?”

Johnny’s a menace when it comes to the 141, calling Gaz for ‘help’. he can barely get the opener out without laughing, hitting the punchline takes a hot minute. Gaz can hear him sputtering on the other side, little bursts of laughter leaving him. it’s amazing that Gaz falls for the joke at all, Johnny laughing harder as he grips his phone

König:

playing with his cat

does König talk to his pretty kitty in German? of course he does, and he’ll goof around with them too. his favorite thing is pretend dialing on his cat’s toe beans. he’ll pretend to meow for his cat and voice the person ‘on the line’. totally straight faced, he takes business calls with his kitty very seriously

parenting his cat

sometimes being a parent is having human children, other times it’s cradling your baby kitty in your shirt while you make lunch. König is the latter, and he’ll always say how easy it is to be a parent. “Ja, she is a little thing. Here, I have photos—”, he carries printed photos of her in his wallet to show off, his favorite is of her swaddled in bed with her favorite blankie

walking his cat

König likes getting out, it’s natural for him. it gets a little lonely sometimes though��� and boy is excited when he learns cat harnesses exist. weather permitting, he enjoys going on walks with his cat. sure, his kitty might wander into a bush here and there, but König will get them out before trailing down the block

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 5

Hey! This will take a short break until December then it will begin posting on Fridays to take place of The Hellfire Exotic Club.

In this we have all Robin and Steve with a little cameo of Chrissy. Steve just needed a little bestie time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Steve stared at the little black card in his hand. He had waited until he had gotten one in his name before using the account, even though Eddie had said that he was already an authorized user and the bank had been told that Steve would be using it immediately.

He just didn’t feel comfortable with doing so. So Eddie had one overnighted to him to make sure he could get whatever he needed as soon as possible. It was his first day off since Eddie left, Steve having refused to take one until he was sure the girls could handle it.

So here he was with his best friend standing outside of an Ikea with a black credit card and a dawning sense of dread.

“If I go in there,” he huffed, “I’m never coming back out again. You know that right? These places are cursed.”

Robin burst out laughing. “I think the power of your newly minted black credit card will act as a talisman of getting lost by the power of capitalism.”

“If you say so,” Steve scoffed. “If I don’t escape, I am totally blaming you, I hope you know that.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the entrance. “Come on, you big baby.”

They were looking at sheets when she spoke up again. “I think it’s really cool he’s allowing you decorate your room.”

Steve chuckled as he weighed the two options in his hands. “I think it’s because he really wants me to stay. If I put effort into my own space and get really settled in, I’ll be less likely to want to move.”

“Any spicy texts from ‘Daddy’?” Robin asked wagging her eyebrows suggestively.

“No.” He bumped her with his hip. “Knock that off. Yes, he is hot and sweet and funny, but I’m not going got cross that line. Especially not with him currently traveling the country with his metal band.”

“That’s too bad,” she pouted.

Then his phone rang. He put the dark blue sheets in the cart and the light blue ones back on the shelf and then he answered the call.

“Hey, Chrissy,” he greeted. “What’s up?”

“I hate to call you on your day off, Steve,” she began. “But Joanie can’t find her elephant plushy and she’s on the verge of a meltdown.”

Steve pinched his nose and sighed. “That’s because she insisted she wanted to bring Mr. Puff and Stuff, her wolf plushy instead. Snuffymuffie is still out the house.”

The sound of absolutely agony echoed through the phone line. Steve could almost feel her soul leaving her body from here.

“It’s on her bed with all her other plushies,” he assured her. “And when I come pick them up tomorrow I’ll bring mint ice cream.”

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” she breathed. “You are a saint among men!”

“No, just a seasoned nanny,” Steve replied with a chuckle. “Now go on before she decides that you’re ignoring her pain and starts wailing.”

Then wailing could be heard at full volume through the phone causing even Robin to wince from the sheer sound of it.

“Too late.”

Steve stared at his phone for a moment or two after she disconnected. He turned to Robin. “How is this my life now?”

“Don’t ask me,” she said with her hands up. “That couldn’t be me. I like kids in short spurts not long hauls.” She pointed to the phone in his hand with her chin. “So who was that then?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” he replied pocketing his phone and pushing the cart forward. “She’s Eddie’s manager. Usually she goes with them when the band tours, but for the first little bit he wanted someone who the girls knew close on hand.”

“So why didn’t she take the kiddos?” Robin said, falling instep next to him.

“Because she still works,” Steve said. “So she can’t watch them during the day. Plus, Eddie had been wanting to get a live-in nanny for awhile. So this solved both problems.”

“Do you miss it?” Robin asked. “Having your own space?”

Steve wasn’t sure what she meant. He had his own space and told her so. That was what they were shopping for after all. Decorating his space.

“I meant an apartment of your own,” she said a little exasperated. “Like you really don’t have any freedom. It’s not like you can paint it all pink with white fruit everywhere.”

“I could actually,” Steve said with a shrug. “Though the example Eddie used was neon orange with brightly color rainbow dicks everywhere.”

Robin blinked at him for a moment. “But what if the girls saw that?”

“It would probably be explained as a banana and a couple of peaches or whatever,” Steve said, waving her off. “But that’s not the point. The point is that if I wanted to buy a racing car bed and make everything chrome, I could. I just don’t want to. It’s a gorgeous room, I want to add to it, not make it into a hellscape or whatever.”

“So what’s with all the nautical stuff, then?” she asked picking up the back of fake seashells.

“It’s very dark wood and deep blues,” he explained snatching them back from her tossing them back into the cart. “I makes me feel like I’m sailing on the ocean. But I also want to give it a haunted vibe, too. To go with the rest of the house.”

“I’m really going to have to see this place,” she huffed.

Steve stared at her for a moment. “I thought that was the plan. I thought you were coming over after we were done shopping to help me set everything up.”

“I wasn’t sure I was allowed to be there when it was just you,” she said with a half shrug.

“I’m allowed to have friends over,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “If I break anything, he just asks that I let him know. He’s got four year old twins, like I’m pretty sure anything fragile or expensive was put away a long time ago.”

Robin blinked for a moment as she processed that thought. “Right. What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” Steve huffed. “Now come on there are ten million miles to get through and I would like get through this before I die of old age.”

She scoffed but let him lead her through the store as he asked for her opinion on some things and to get her to mock others.

By the time they reached the check out, their cart was overflowing with all sorts of fun things for his room. Or rather, as Steve had learned. Wing. An entire fucking wing of the house was his. It had his bedroom, the bathroom, a small sitting room/library, and fucking kitchenette for entertaining guests.

He paid with the card Eddie had given him, both Robin and the cashier’s eyes went wide.

The cashier kinda gave him the stink-eye, like ‘what are you doing in an I-fucking-kea with a card like that?’ But Steve steadfastly ignored her and grabbed his packages.

“Why did we go to Ikea?” Robin asked as she helped load up his car with the stuff he bought.

“Because what I wanted was here,” Steve said rolling his eyes. “More expensive doesn’t equal better quality.” He slammed the trunk closed and got into the driver’s seat.

She rolled her eyes back at him, but wisely said nothing. He was the one with the ultra credit card and she wanted nachos from her favorite Mexican restaurant, something she would not get if she pushed Steve too far with the card. She could tell he was uncomfortable having it, so it was sure bet Eddie had insisted.

When they got to the house, Robin was in awe. She could see why Steve had fallen in love with the place. It gave off that tastefully haunted vibe of the Addams Family. Inside was even cooler as Steve showed her around. The only places they didn’t go were the Munsons’ bedrooms and Eddie’s studio and office.

But Robin was okay with that when she saw the game room, and the movie theater and the swimming pool and the actual fucking library. Here was a guy who took his money and put it to tasteful use.

“This is really neat,” she said as she flopped on the sofa in Steve’s study. “And this all yours?”

“Until they get old enough not to need me,” Steve said with a shrug. He began putting things away on the shelves. “Which is probably at least ten years off, maybe more if I’m really lucky.”

“Here’s to that,” Robin said, impressed. “Is he looking for another nanny? Because damn, I’d love a sweet place like this.”

“No,” Steve said and smacked her with his dust rag. “Get up on your feet and help me Missy!”

She leapt to her feet to get away from the dusty rag. “I surrender! I surrender!” She opened the first box and got to work sort things into proper piles so Steve could them away as he went.

“He’s looking for almost everything else though,” Steve said as he put books on the shelves. “Like everything else. A gardener or two, a couple of grounds maintenance guys, a cook, a pool cleaner, a couple of maids. All that sort of stuff.”

“Wow,” Robin said, opening another box, “that’s pretty much everyone. What happen, he fire everyone at once?”

Beat.

“Wait, what?” she said, whipping her head up to look at him. He was looking at the floor biting his lip. “What happened?”

“His ex slept with everyone on the staff who would let him,” Steve mumbled, “and those he didn’t sleep with kept it from him. With having no one trust, he just got rid of all of them.”

“Holy shit,” Robin hissed. “Way to upend the kiddos’ entire lives.”

“Ethan or Eddie?” Steve said with a shrug and grabbed the nearest pile of books to start shelving.

“Oh, totally the ex,” Robin hissed, “what an asshole. And the fact that all of them colluded to keep it from Eddie? That’s the major dick move. How long has he been struggling to do it all on his own?”

“About a year,” Steve replied absently as he tried to decide whether or not ‘Good Omens’ would go under G for Gaiman or P for Pratchett. He decided on Pratchett since it was the name on top. “I think his friends staged an intervention a la reunion tour to force him to move forward with his life.”

She snorted and shook her head. “Men. I am so glad I’m not attracted to them. Emotionally stunted morons. Well most of them anyway.”

“Anyone can get overwhelmed, Robs,” he huffed picking up his last stack of books. “I’ve gotten a few prospects for the yard and swimming pool.”

“Yeah, I was noticing how overgrown everything was,” she agreed, “even if the vibe was haunted house.”

Steve sighed and plopped down next to her. “I didn’t even show you what the gardener’s shed looked like or the pool house. He really let everything go in his grief. He didn’t say anything to me, but you can tell he took the break up really hard. This was his person. The one he thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with. And then Ethan went and blew it all up with no explanation, just a gigantic mess to clean up.”

“Well, I’m glad he has you,” she said bumping him with her shoulder. “And I was only joking about the being hired too. As long as I get to visit this place and hang out by the pool on occasion, I’ll consider it even.” She held out her hand and Steve took it with a smile.

“I think we’re all done in here,” he said standing up and dusting off his knees. “Bedroom is next.”

Robin got up and looked around his little study. “I’m happy for you, Steve. I think you’re going to be really happy here.”

Steve smiled. “I already am. I know it’s only been a week since Eddie left and ten days since I was hired, but I really don’t want to screw this up.”

She hugged him tight. If anyone deserved a fairy tale ending it was her platonic soulmate. Now all she had to do was convince him to get flirty with the hot frontman of Corroded Coffin and her boy would be set for life.

They walked into the bedroom and got to decorating it. When they were done, she flopped down on the queen size bed, spread eagle.

“We should order in and watch horror movies on that massive screen,” she suggested, staring up at the ceiling.

Steve cocked his head to the side and tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Make it pizza and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Fine!” she huffed, seeing her dreams of loaded nachos flutter away.

He kicked her foot, causing her to sit up abruptly. “Buy your own nachos, you big baby. You have a job. Or at least you did yesterday, so unless there is something you’d like to tell me you can get your own.”

“You’re a real bitch, Steve Harrington,” she huffed, hopping off the bed. “Tell me again why I like you?”

“Because you get to watch Jamie Lee Curtis in full high definition projection,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and then walked out of the room.

“Wait!” she huffed, scrambling to catch up. “He has the original ‘Halloween’? You can’t just drop that on me and run, Harrington!”

Steve giggled as he ran down the stairs, with Robin hot on his heels. He cut a corner tightly, causing her to careen into the opposite wall.

“Curse you and your jock reflexes!” she hissed as she pushed herself off the wall to continue her chase.

By the time she had caught up with him, he was already on the phone with the pizza place. “At least get something with vegetables! You don’t want scurvy!”

“And one medium raspberry lemonade and one large cherry limeade,” he said with a wink at her. “Yes that will be all.”

“All that sugar!” Robin huffed. “I don’t know how you don’t kill over from sugar shock or something with all the sweet stuff you eat and drink.”

“Because I exercise and eat right most of the time,” Steve said back. “Diet culture is such BS, your body needs sugar to function. It’s why I put it in my tomato sauce when I make it from scratch.”

“Betrayal!” she cried and flopped on the sofa. She tilted her head for a moment and then melted into said sofa. “This is a really soft sofa, Steve. Everything here is so soft. I don’t know why but I pictured everything being so hard and stiff and uncomfortable.”

“Eddie certainly isn’t your stereotypical rich guy,” Steve agreed. “And I think this place was soft before the girls, because I think Eddie likes soft.”

Robin looked at her best friend fondly. She could tell he was already in love with this Eddie, he was just very deep in denial.

They had their movie night complete with pizza and drinks. One of the pizzas even had vegetables on it. For her. And when Steve dropped her off the next morning, she was content in her knowledge Steve wasn’t just going to do well there, he was going to thrive.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

10- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers

[starkeyslibrary]

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 1

pairing: you x drew starkey

The sound of Drew’s laugh filled the cozy apartment as you scrolled through your phone, settling deeper into the plush couch. It was a laugh you’d heard a thousand times – warm, genuine and utterly infectious. You glanced up to see him standing in the kitchen, stirring pasta sauce in a hoodie that he’d stolen from your side of the closet weeks ago. The sigh made your heart swell.

“How’s it going?” you asked, setting your phone aside.

“Almost done,” Drew said, flashing you a grin over his shoulder. “Hope you’re ready to be impressed by my gourmet skills.”

You chuckled, pulling your knees to your chest. “If it’s anything like last time, I should probably have the takeout app ready.”

Drew pretended to be offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “That was one time! And in my defense, the oven was possessed.”

Moments like this had become your favorite part of life with Drew – quiet, intimate evenings that felt words away from the chaos of Hollywood. For all the glitz and glam of his career, Drew was just Drew with you.

As you watched him carefully plate the pasta, you couldn’t help but feel proud of everything he’d accomplished. His latest role in the Hellraiser reboot was shaping up to be a major career move. And while you knew the spotlights came with challenges, you’d always been his biggest cheerleader.

Later that night, as the two of you lounged on the couch, Drew’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He glanced at the screen, then sighed.

“It’s my manager,” he said, sitting up. “Give me a sec?”

“Of course,” you said, reaching for the remote to find something to watch.

Drew stepped into the next room, his voice low but audible enough for snippets to carry over.

“…. Press tours…. Odessa …. Chemistry angle?”

You tried to focus on the TV, but your curiosity got the better of you. Odessa A’Zion – Drew’s new co-star. You’d seen her name pop up recently in articles about the movie, paired with glowing reviews of her talent and personality. She seemed nice enough in interviews – bold and charming in a way that made you feel a little plain by comparison.

“Everything okay?” you asked, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

“Yeah,” he said, but his tone wasn’t convincing. “Just.. movie stuff. Our team thinks Odessa and I need to lean into the whole co-star chemistry thing for the press.”

“Chemistry thing?” you echoed, your brow furrowing.

“It’s all PR,” Drew said quickly, his hands finding yours. “They’re talking about a few staged photo ops, maybe some friendly banter during interviews. You know how it goes.”

You nodded slowly, even as an uneasy feeling settled in your chest. You did know how it went – Hollywood loved its narratives, and the lines between fiction and reality often blurred.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Drew added, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re the one I love, Y/N. Not Odessa. Never Odessa.”

You smiled softly, but the words didn’t erase the knot in your stomach.

The first set of paparazzi photos hit the internet like a wildfire: Drew and Odessa at a café, leaning across the table as if sharing a secret. Her laugh was captured mid-burst, her hand grazing his arm.

The headlines were just as dramatic as you’d feared: Drew Starkey and Odessa A ‘Zion’s Off-Screen Chemistry is Off the Charts!

You scrolled through the photos on your phone, bile rising in your throat. They were clearly staged, every angle too perfect to be a coincidence. But that didn’t make it easier to stomach.

The worst part was the comments. Fans fawned over the “new power couple”, dissecting every detail of their interactions. People who had once rooted for you and Drew now seemed eager to erase you from the narrative entirely.

When Drew came home that night, you tried to play it cool, but your unease must’ve shown.

“Hey” he said, dropping his bag by the door and crossing the room to kiss your forehead. “You okay?”

“Mmm, fine” you said, forcing a smile.

Drew studied you for a moment before glancing at your phone. His face fell as he recognized the photos.

“Y/N, I –“

“It’s okay,” you interrupted, setting the phone aside. “I know it’s just PR. It’s your job.”

Drew sat beside you, his hands wrapping around yours. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he said firmly. “You’re the one I come home to. You’re the one I love.”

You wanted to believe him. But as Drew kissed your temple and pulled you into his arms, the unease lingered, whispering doubts you weren’t ready to face.

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @idiotussupremus

[d-z20]

The Agent Next Door part 3 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: When a ghost from Rio's past resurfaces, the safe haven you’ve built together is threatened. As danger edges closer, your bond deepens in unexpected ways, testing your trust and strength in each other. Amidst fear and uncertainty, you discover just how far both of you are willing to go to protect what matters most.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, smut, fluff ending, fingering (R recv), oral (Rio recv), praise kink, slight power bottom Rio

Words: 4.2k

A/N: The angsty third (and final?) part as promised

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Master List

Under Her Protection

You’re sprawled out on Rio’s couch, nestled comfortably against her side as the TV plays in the background. It’s the kind of night you’ve both come to love—no plans, no rush, just the two of you together, half-watching some crime drama. You can feel the steady rise and fall of her chest as you rest your head there, her arm slung casually around your shoulders, fingers absently tracing patterns on your arm.

It’s a rare, peaceful moment, one that you’ve started to cherish more and more. You glance up at her; she looks different like this—softer. The usual tension in her jaw has melted away; her sharp features relaxed in a way you rarely get to see. You smile to yourself, the sight of her at ease filling you with a quiet kind of joy. She’s not just the composed, authoritative FBI agent you first met. Here, she’s Rio—your Rio—and you could watch her like this forever.

You press a kiss to her jaw, feeling her smile against your lips.

“Enjoying the show?” she asks, her voice teasing. You know she couldn’t care less about what’s on the screen, but it’s a running joke between the two of you—mocking the exaggerated, overly dramatic FBI agents depicted on TV.

“Oh, absolutely,” you drawl, playing along. “I just love how accurate it all is. Clearly, every case is solved in a day, and all agents wear heels and leather jackets.”

Rio chuckles, pulling you closer. “It’s ridiculous,” she snorts. “Half of this would get thrown out in court in a heartbeat. And don’t even get me started on the ‘enhance the grainy footage’ bullshit.”

You grin, enjoying the rare, playful side of her. “I bet you’d never pull a stunt like that. The great Agent Vidal would never dream of cutting corners.”

She raises an eyebrow, her smirk sharp. “Oh, you’d be surprised what I’ve pulled off. Sometimes rules are more like... guidelines.”

You laugh, leaning into her, and she squeezes your shoulder lightly. For a moment, everything feels easy—peaceful.

Then her phone buzzes, cutting through the quiet. She lets out a small sigh and picks it up, her expression immediately shifting as she reads the message. The shift is so sudden it makes your stomach drop. Without a word, she gets up and walks to the window, peering through the blinds like she’s expecting to see something—or someone—out there.

“Rio?” You ask cautiously, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer right away, her shoulders visibly tense. Finally, she lets the blinds fall back into place and turns to you, her expression grim. “That was work,” she says, her voice low and controlled. “Someone I put away years ago just got released on parole. He... wasn’t supposed to get out this soon.”

You frown, confused. “Why is that a problem? Didn’t he serve his time?”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think she won’t answer. Then she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “The last time I saw him, he threatened to ruin my life,” she says quietly. “He’s dangerous. And vindictive. If he finds out where I live... who you are... how much I lov—.”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to. The implications hang heavy in the air. You swallow hard, suddenly very aware of the weight of her job and the risks that come with it.

“Hey,” you say softly, standing and moving to her side. “I’m sure it’s fine. He probably doesn’t even know you’re here.”

Her eyes meet yours, and for the first time since you met her, you see real fear there. “Maybe. But I can’t take that chance.” She pauses, her hand brushing your arm. “I want you to stay here. At least until I figure out what’s going on.”

The seriousness in her tone leaves no room for argument, and you nod. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

You settle back onto the couch together, but the atmosphere has shifted now, an unspoken tension lingering in the room. Rio keeps her phone close, her other arm wrapped protectively around you, her eyes flicking back to the window every so often.

You try to focus on the TV show, but your thoughts keep drifting. It’s unsettling, this shadow of a threat hanging over the two of you, and you can tell Rio feels it too. Her grip on you tightens every time she hears a noise from outside, her thumb rubbing circles against your arm as if she’s trying to soothe both of you.

Eventually, you turn your head to look up at her. “You know, I don’t need a TV show when I’ve got my own personal action hero right here.”

Rio snorts, shaking her head. “Is that what I am now?”

“Yep,” you say, grinning up at her. “Neighbour, fashion critic, and now... bodyguard.”

She rolls her eyes but leans down to press a kiss to your lips, soft and lingering. “Just stay close, okay?”

You nod, your heart fluttering at the protectiveness in her voice. “I’m not going anywhere, Rio.”

Relief flashes across her face, but it’s fleeting. She takes your hand, leading you to her bedroom without another word. The silence between you is heavy but not uncomfortable—it’s charged, humming with unspoken worry and a need for closeness.

When you get to the bed, her hands are on you immediately, tugging you close. There’s a new intensity to her touch, her fingers gripping your hips firmly, almost possessively. She kisses you hard, like she’s trying to stake her claim, her mouth moving with an urgency you’ve never felt from her before.

“Rio—” you start, but she cuts you off with another kiss, her hands sliding under your shirt, nails raking up your skin. Her lips move to your neck, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks that you know will last. It’s not just passion—it’s something deeper, rawer. Like she needs to prove to herself that you’re here, that you’re hers.

You let her take the lead, your own hands roaming her body, trying to reassure her in your own way. But she’s relentless, her mouth trailing lower, her teeth grazing your collarbone. She pushes you back onto the bed, her weight settling over you as she pins your wrists above your head.

Her gaze is dark, her eyes searching yours. “I need to know you’re safe,” she murmurs, her voice rough. “I need to feel it.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, and it’s the truth.

Her grip on your wrists tightens briefly before she leans down, kissing you again, slower this time but no less intense. 

The night is a blur of heated touches and whispered reassurances, her possessiveness never crossing the line into discomfort. Instead, it leaves you breathless, the depth of her need for you pulling you even closer.

When you finally fall asleep, tangled in her arms, the weight of her protectiveness wraps around you like a shield. Even as your mind drifts, you know this is only the beginning of whatever storm is coming. But with her by your side, you’re ready to face it.

—

You’ve been staying at Rio’s apartment for a week now, and every night, her hold on you seems to grow tighter. Even in her sleep, her arms remain locked around you, as though her subconscious refuses to let you out of her grasp. It’s a level of protectiveness you’re not used to, but you can’t deny how safe it makes you feel.

The days are a strange mix of normalcy and subtle unease. You run errands, cook together, and share quiet moments on her couch. But in the back of your mind, there’s always a faint sense of being watched. You’ve chalked it up to paranoia—Rio’s warning had a way of sticking with you, and you tell yourself you’re just imagining things.

Still, it’s hard to ignore the nagging feeling when you start seeing the same person more than once. A tall figure with a hood pulled low over their face, lingering at the edge of your vision. You’ve seen them on the street, at the corner store, and now again as you leave the grocery shop, arms full of bags. You glance over your shoulder, your pulse quickening as you catch sight of them just a few steps behind.

You quicken your pace, gripping the bags tightly. Your heart pounds in your chest as you cut across the street and head for the apartment building. You take a chance and glance back again. They’re still following.

By the time you reach Rio’s apartment door, your hands are shaking so badly you almost drop your keys. You fumble with the lock, finally getting the door open and slamming it shut behind you. You lock it, bolting the deadlock for good measure.

You text Rio immediately: I think I was followed. Just got back. Door locked.

The response comes quickly. Stay put. Don’t answer the door for anyone. I’m coming back now.

You breathe out, trying to calm yourself, but as you read her words, a new sound sends a chill down your spine. A faint rattle at the door.

Your stomach drops, and you freeze, staring at the door as the sound grows louder. It’s not your imagination. Someone’s trying the handle. Your mind races, and you grab the closest thing within reach—a table lamp. It’s not exactly a weapon, but it’ll have to do. Your grip tightens on the lamp’s base as the rattling stops, replaced by a loud bang.

The door crashes open, splintering the frame, and the hooded figure steps inside. They’re taller than you thought, their broad frame filling the doorway as they pause, scanning the room. You take a shaky step back, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice dripping with malice. “Look who’s made themselves right at home. You must be the little pet she’s been keeping around.” 

Your mind races, and you instinctively take a step back, trying to put the kitchen island between you and him. “Who the hell are you?” you demand. 

He smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “You don’t know me, but Rio does. She’s the reason I spent the last ten years rotting away in a cell. Thought I’d pay her back by taking something she cares about.”

He lunges at you with a knife, and you barely manage to swing the lamp, hitting him across the face. He staggers back, but only for a moment, then charges at you again. You fight back, kicking and screaming, but he’s strong—stronger than you expected. He pins you against the wall, one hand around your throat. 

“That’s right, scream for her,” he growls. “Let’s see if she gets here in time.” 

You’re gasping for air, your vision blurring, when suddenly, the already broken door is rammed open again, falling off its hinges from the force of the action. 

Rio barges in, her gun drawn, her expression a mixture of fury and fear. “Let them go,” she says, her voice deadly calm, the kind that promises retribution. 

The man tightens his grip on you, pulling you in front of him as a shield. “Shoot me, and you’ll hit them,” he taunts. 

Rio’s eyes meet yours, and you can see the raw, helpless anger there. You’ve never seen her look so terrified.

The man tightens his grip on you, and your vision starts to black. Your pulse pounds in your ears, the lack of air making your limbs feel heavy. Rio stands frozen in the doorway, her gun unwavering, her eyes locked on the man holding you.

“Let them go,” Rio repeats, her voice low and seething with barely restrained fury.

The man smirks, his grip loosening just enough for you to gasp for air. “You really think you’ve got the upper hand here, bitch? You’re so predictable—always running to play the hero.”

Rio doesn’t flinch. “This is the last chance I’ll give you. Let. Them. Go. Now.”

He sneers, then suddenly shoves you away with all his strength. You stumble, hitting the edge of the kitchen counter hard before crumpling to the floor, pain flaring in your side. Rio’s shout of your name echoes through the room, but you can barely focus as you clutch at your ribs, trying to steady your breathing.

The distraction is all Rio needs. She lunges at him before he can turn back to her, knocking the knife from his hand as they crash to the floor. The struggle is brutal—a chaotic blur of punches and grunts as Rio fights with a ferocity you’ve never seen before.

He manages to pin her briefly, his hands going for her throat, but Rio uses the momentum to roll them over, her knee pressing into his chest. She grabs the cuff of his wrist and twists him onto his stomach, forcing him to let out a pained shout as she pins his arm behind his back.

“You should’ve let them go,” she growls, forcing his face against the floor. He thrashes beneath her, but her grip is unrelenting, her strength fuelled by sheer fury.

She pulls her cuffs from her belt, snapping them onto his wrists with a finality that fills the room. She grabs his hair and yanks his head up, knee still pressing into his back. “And now you’re going to pay,” she says coldly before smashing his face into the ground, breaking his nose, and knocking him unconscious.

Her eyes flick to you, her expression softening with worry. “Are you okay?”

Before you can answer, Rio pulls out her phone, calling for backup. Her voice is calm and clipped as she gives the necessary details, but her free hand remains clenched at her side, still shaking from the adrenaline.

When the call ends, she crouches next to you, her hands ghosting over your body, careful not to touch the areas where you’re clearly in pain. “Hey, let me see,” she murmurs, her tone gentle now. “Where are you hurt?”

You wince as you shift, trying to sit up. “Just... my side. Think I hit the counter pretty hard.”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think she might explode all over again—but she just exhales, brushing a hand over your hair. “Backup’s on the way. He’s not going anywhere. I promise you’re safe now.”

You nod weakly, and she leans closer, her forehead briefly touching yours. The tension in her body doesn’t ease until the distant wail of sirens signals that help has arrived. Even then, her focus stays on you, her protective presence a shield between you and the man who dared to threaten what she holds most dear.

With the chaos finally under control and the intruder hauled away in handcuffs, Rio keeps a steady arm around you as she guides you back across the hall to your apartment. You can still feel the tremors in your hands, the echo of fear and adrenaline in your veins, but her presence is grounding.

As the door closes behind you, she doesn’t let go. Instead, she leads you to the couch, sitting beside you with her arm securely around your shoulders. “You okay?” she asks softly, her fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You nod, leaning into her touch. “Yeah. Just... processing.”

A flicker of guilt crosses Rio’s face. “I never should’ve left you alone.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you reply, reaching up to squeeze her hand. “And you came back in time. That’s what matters.”

She exhales heavily, her arms tightening around you protectively. For a while, neither of you speak, the silence broken only by the rhythmic sound of her breathing. Then she shifts, her thumb brushing against your knuckles. “I mean it, though—I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. The truth is, you don’t mind the idea of her staying close.

As the evening wears on, you begin to feel a sense of normalcy returning. Wrapped in her arms, you finally let your guard down, the weight of the day melting away. You tilt your head up to meet her gaze, your heart skipping as you notice the way she’s looking at you—soft yet intent.

“You’re staring,” you tease, your voice quiet.

“Can’t help it,” she murmurs, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re kind of hard to look away from.”

Your cheeks flush, but before you can respond, her lips capture yours in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, like she’s savouring every moment. You respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in her hair as she shifts to deepen the kiss.

Somehow, the two of you end up lying on the couch, her body pressing against yours as your hands roam freely, exploring the familiar territory with renewed fervour. She pulls away just long enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting against yours. “Bedroom?” she whispers, her voice husky.

You nod, your heart racing as she helps you to your feet. The walk to the bedroom is brief, but each step feels charged with anticipation. 

You guide her to the bed, her hand sliding into yours as you both move with an unspoken understanding. She lets you press her down gently so she’s sitting on the mattress, her signature smirk tugging at her lips. “So, this is how it’s going to be tonight?” she teases, her voice low, challenging but still laced with warmth. Her eyes glint with curiosity, though you can sense she’s enjoying this shift in control. “Guess I can let you take the lead. Just this once.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, leaning down to press a playful kiss to her lips. “Call it a thank you for saving me. Hero perks, right?” You reply, your voice just as teasing.

Her chuckle rumbles low in her throat as her hands settle lightly on your hips, grounding you. “You’ve got an interesting way of saying thanks,” she murmurs, tilting her head to expose her neck—an invitation and a challenge all at once. “But I’m not complaining.”

You take her challenge with a grin, leaning down to press your lips to her neck, your kisses starting soft but quickly growing more heated. You find the spot just below her ear where her skin is most sensitive, and when she lets out a low, pleased hum, you focus your attention there. Your tongue darts out, followed by a sharp nip of your teeth, before you suck on her skin, leaving a mark to match the ones she gave you just nights ago.

She tilts her head back with a soft gasp, her fingers tightening their grip on your hips. “You’re getting good at that,” she murmurs, her tone teasing but breathless. Her words spur you on, and you trail more kisses down her neck, each one deliberate, each one claiming her in your own way.

As your lips continue their path, your hands slide over her body, unbuttoning her shirt and tugging it off. Your eyes roam her, taking in every inch of her toned body and the way her muscles flex under your touch.

“Enjoying the view?” she teases, arching a brow, but there’s a flush on her cheeks that betrays her confidence.

“Absolutely,” you reply without hesitation, earning a quiet laugh from her.

Your hands move to the waistband of her pants, your fingers brushing against her skin as you pull them down, leaving her bare before you. You grab her hips, pulling her into you so she’s perched on the edge of the bed, your legs pushing her knees further apart. Her dark eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of anticipation and challenge, and you can’t help but feel a surge of affection and desire for her all at once.

“You look good like this,” you say softly, your hands trailing up her thighs as you kneel between them.

Rio leans back on her palms, her smirk widening. “Show me just how grateful you are, sweetheart.”

Looking directly into Rio’s eyes, you drag your tongue through her wetness. 

“That’s it,” she breathes, her voice huskier now. Her nails coming to dig lightly into your shoulder as her body shifts beneath you. 

Hooking your arms under her legs, you push your face further into Rio, tongue pressing firmer against her clit and she rolls her hips at the sensation. Your tongue swirls over and around her bundle of nerves, eliciting more praise. “You’re so good at this, sweetheart,” she says, her tone uncharacteristically tender.

The praise makes your stomach flip, and you press your thighs together, feeling your arousal soak your underwear.

You notice the subtle change in her demeanour, her usual teasing grin replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. Her hands grip you tightly, but there’s a gentleness to her touch you hadn’t expected. “I don’t give up control often. But with you... it feels right.” Her voice falters slightly, and the admission makes your heart ache with tenderness.

As her orgasm builds, she finally lets go entirely, her usual defences falling away. Her head tilts back, her breathy praises and quiet gasps filling the space. After she reaches her peak, she pulls you up to her, her arms wrapping around you tightly as if grounding herself. “You’re incredible,” she whispers into your ear, her lips brushing against your temple as she catches her breath. “But don’t think I’m done with you yet.”

Her smirk returns, this time sharper, more determined. Before you can respond, she drags you down on to the bed, flipping you gently onto your back. Her strength is firm but careful, her lips curling in amusement at your surprised expression. “Your turn,” she murmurs, her voice low and promising. She begins to trail kisses down your body, her actions deliberate and knowing. “Let me show you how grateful I am,” she adds, her grin growing as your body arches beneath her touch.

With that, she strips you, her soft hands feeling all over your body. When her fingers trail up your thigh, she lets out a soft chuckle at the feeling of your arousal dripping. “Seems like someone enjoyed the praise.” 

You whimper as her fingers press lightly against your clit.

“You made me feel so good, baby.” Her middle finger slides lower. “Such a clever girl.” She teases your entrance. “You know exactly how I like it.” She pushes her finger in.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you moan as it curls inside you. “More.”

Rio slides another finger in, biting her lip and groaning at how easily you take it. "Oh, darling, you’re taking me so well,” she praises, starting to pump her fingers in and out. She adds a third, and you feel the familiar tightening in your stomach. She picks up the pace, fucking all of the tension from the night out of you both. “You look so good like this,” she coos.

Arching into her touch, head pushing into the mattress, you keen, “Oh fuck. Rio, you’re going to make me cum.”

“That’s it, sweetheart; you’re doing so well, cum for me,” she whispers against your skin, kissing your neck.

Your mouth falls open, a breathless cry escaping as your orgasm overtakes you. The tension that had been building within you shatters, a wave of heat and pleasure coursing through your body. You arch into her, every nerve alight, the sensation so overwhelming that it renders you momentarily weightless. A strangled gasp follows, your voice raw and unrestrained, her name slipping from your lips like a plea and a prayer all at once.

—

Later, as the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, Rio’s arms wrap tightly around you, holding you, refusing to let go. The tension of the night seems to fade, replaced by a sense of closeness you hadn’t fully realised until now. She presses a kiss to the top of your head, her fingers tracing absent patterns along your back.

“You know,” she begins softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t usually do this—let people in, I mean. I don’t let myself feel this way.” She hesitates, her grip on you tightening slightly. “But with you... I can’t imagine not having you here.”

Your chest tightens at her words, and you tilt your head to meet her gaze. The raw vulnerability in her eyes makes your heart ache. “Rio...” you begin, your voice trembling slightly as your hand brushes against her cheek. “I love you.”

Her lips part in surprise, and then her smile grows, soft and genuine in a way you rarely see. “Took you long enough to say it,” she teases, though her voice is thick with emotion. She leans down, brushing her lips against yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender. When she pulls back, her eyes lock with yours. “I love you too, you know.”

You crack a small smile. “So, I guess you’re gonna be the one crashing at my place now, huh? Seeing as it’s your door that got kicked in this time,” you say, breaking the tender moment.

Rio blinks at you, then lets out a soft laugh. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you reply, grinning now.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic

Chapter 10 - So Different | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.4k

Trent laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind a storm he couldn’t quiet. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, the sound jolting him momentarily out of his haze. Jack’s name lit up the screen, but Trent didn’t move to answer it. He couldn’t. The guilt was suffocating. Every time Jack called, every time Trent saw his name flash across his phone, it felt like a knife twisting deeper into his chest. He couldn’t face him. Couldn’t lie to him. Couldn’t explain to his best friend that the reason he’d been distant wasn’t some random funk but the unbearable heartbreak of losing you. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. He was coming to realize, you were his person, his peace, the one he went to when everything else felt like too much. And now, you were gone, and Trent didn’t know how to function without you. Since that night, he’d gone completely off the grid. He showed up for training, went through the motions, and then went straight home. He couldn’t bring himself to see anyone, to pretend he was okay when he wasn’t. His chest ached constantly, a dull, throbbing pain that he didn’t know how to soothe. He thought about you constantly. The way you’d cried, the way your voice broke. The look in your eyes. It haunted him. He replayed it over and over, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Was it the secrecy? The guilt? The fear of what Jack and the others would think?

You hadn’t said, ‘Why don’t we just tell them?’ And so, he hadn’t. He’d been too afraid, too consumed by the what-ifs. But now, lying there in the quiet of his room, he wondered if things could have been different if he’d just had the courage to say, I love her. I don’t care what anyone thinks. His phone buzzed again, and he turned his head to look at it. Jack was calling again, and for a fleeting moment, Trent considered answering. But what would he say? How could he explain that he was grieving the loss of you, the girl he was never supposed to fall for but couldn’t help loving? He turned his face into the pillow, the tears coming unbidden. He missed you so much it hurt. He missed your laugh, your smile, the way you made him feel like the best version of himself. He missed the way you fit perfectly in his arms, the way your lips felt against his. He missed you. But he couldn’t have you. He’d made his choice that night, torn between his desire to console you, to pull you into his arms and make you stop crying, and the guilt and fear of Jack finding out. He’d walked away, and now, he was paying the price. Trent closed his eyes, his chest tightening with the weight of it all. He felt like he was losing both of you—you and Jack. He couldn’t talk to his best friend about it, couldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t even pick up the phone. He was trapped in his own guilt and heartbreak, unable to see a way out. Day in and day out, he lay there, caught in a trance, replaying every moment, every word, every touch. He didn’t know how to move forward without you, didn’t know if he even wanted to. All he knew was that he’d never felt this way before, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would again.

You weren’t fairing all that well yourself. You curled up on your bed, muffling your sobs into the pillow, hoping the sound wouldn’t carry through the walls. But Jack had already noticed. He’d been noticing for days—the way you avoided him, the lack of your usual energy, the way your eyes always looked on the verge of tears. Jack wasn’t one to pry, but this time, he couldn’t stay silent. You heard the knock at your door, a quiet but firm tap, tap, tap.

“Y/N?” Jack’s voice was soft, cautious. “Can I come in?” You froze, wiping your face quickly, though you knew it was pointless.

“Yeah,” you croaked, your voice betraying you. The door creaked open, and Jack stepped inside. His expression shifted instantly when he saw you, eyes red and swollen, clutching your pillow like a lifeline. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, taking it in.

“Come here, what’s gotten into you?” he asked finally, his voice gentle as he opened his arms. You hesitated, guilt twisting in your stomach, but the look on his face broke you. Slowly, you got up and walked into his embrace. The moment his arms wrapped around you, the tears came again, harder this time, like a dam breaking.Jack held you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other rubbing slow circles on your back. “Hey, you’re okay,” he murmured. “Just breathe for me, yeah?” You tried to, but the sobs kept coming. After a long moment, Jack pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he searched your face. “What’s going on, Y/N? Talk to me. Who’s got ya like this? Is fucking Josh again?” The question hit you like a truck. Who. Not what. He already knew this wasn’t about work or anything trivial. He knew it was someone. You shook your head, pulling away from his touch, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively. 

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled. “I’m fine. Really.” Jack’s brows furrowed, his concern deepening. 

“Y/N, don’t do that. Don’t shut me out. I’m your brother. Just… tell me who it is, and I’ll sort them out.” He cooed with a sympathetic smik. You laughed weakly through the tears, the irony of his words hitting you. If only he knew.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Jack stepped closer, his hands gentle on your arms. 

“Why not? You know I’d do anything for you, right? Just tell me, and we’ll fix it together.” You shook your head more forcefully this time, the guilt washing over you in waves. You couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him. Not when it was Trent. Not when it was his best friend. Not when it would ruin everything. Not when you had betrayed him. 

“I just can’t, Jack,” you said once over, your voice cracking as fresh tears streamed down your face. “I’ve already lost so much over this. You’ll be mad and I can’t lose you too.” Jack’s face softened, but he still looked confused, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle without all the pieces. 

“Y/N, you’re not gonna lose me,” he said firmly. “You can tell me anything, you know that.” But you couldn’t. You couldn’t risk it. Jack was all you had left, and if he knew the truth, you weren’t sure you’d survive the fallout.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, stepping back toward the bed. “I just… I need to figure this out on my own.” Jack looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Instead, he sighed and nodded, his hands falling to his sides. 

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “But if you change your mind, I’m here, alright? Always.” You nodded, biting your lip to keep from breaking down again. When he finally left the room, closing the door behind him, the silence felt deafening. You sank back onto the bed, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. You made a decision then. You couldn’t keep doing this—to yourself, to Trent, to Jack. The guilt was eating you alive, and the secrecy was tearing everything apart. It was time to end it. For good.

The week of silence was unbearable. Days stretched into nights, with every moment consumed by guilt, longing, and the reality of what you had both built under Jack’s unsuspecting gaze. For so long, you’d tried to ignore the weight of it all, but now the cracks were too wide, the guilt too heavy. You couldn’t breathe. When you finally stood on Trent’s doorstep, your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. You hadn’t texted or called; you’d just shown up, your emotions too raw for words. Trent opened the door, his brows furrowing in surprise when he saw you standing there. His hair was still damp from a shower, his face soft and unguarded. 

“Y/N?” he said, his voice laced with concern. “What are you—”

“We can’t do it anymore,” you interrupted, your voice trembling, already on the verge of tears. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.” The words hit him like a blow to the chest. For a moment, he didn’t move, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“Just..” He couldn’t even talk before he instinctively reached for you, pulling you into his arms. You collapsed against him, the weight of your words crashing down as sobs racked your body. His strong arms held you tightly, his hand cradling the back of your head as if he could shield you from the pain you were feeling. “Don’t say that,” he murmured into your hair, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t say that.” But you couldn’t stop. 

“I can’t keep lying to Jack,” you whispered against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. “I can’t keep lying to myself. This… this isn’t right, T. It’s not right.” Desperation flickered in his eyes as he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. 

“I know,” he admitted softly, his voice filled with sorrow. “I know it’s not fair to you. Or to him. But…” He trailed off, his words faltering under the weight of his emotions. The silence between you was heavy, the tension palpable. And then, as if drawn together by some unseen force, his lips found yours. The kiss was desperate, full of unspoken words and heartbreak. You clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded, your fingers tangling in his hair as you poured everything you couldn’t say into that moment. Before you knew it, the two of you were in his room, tangled in his sheets, your bodies pressed together as if trying to erase the distance that had grown between you. It wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, a last-ditch effort to hold onto something slipping away. When it was over, the silence returned, heavier than before. You lay in his arms, your cheek pressed against his chest as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. He pressed a kiss to your hair, a soft hum escaping him. The tenderness in that simple gesture broke something inside you. You sniffled, tears slipping down your cheeks once more. 

“This has to be it,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Okay?” You whimpered.

“Okay,” he replied, his voice low and full of sadness. He tightened his hold on you, his lips brushing against your temple. “But Y/N… can you just stay though? Just for tonight?”  He meekly asked you, his tone desperate. Your breath hitched as his words hit you. 

“Trent…” You cautioned him already struggling to will your body away from his.

“I didn’t know it’d be our last night,” he continued, his voice trembling. “And I just… I just want to remember it right.” You nodded silently, your tears soaking into his skin. You didn’t have the strength to say no, not when he held you like that, not when you could feel his heart breaking beneath your hand.

“This isn’t right,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible. But Trent didn’t respond. He couldn’t. All he could do was hold you tighter, his silence speaking volumes. The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of goodbye hanging heavy in the air. You knew this was the end, but for now, in this fleeting moment, you allowed yourselves to pretend that it wasn’t.

The morning was heavy with unspoken words as you pulled your clothes on, trying to keep your composure. The air between you and Trent was thick, weighted with everything that had gone wrong and everything that still felt so heartbreakingly right. As you made your way toward the door, Trent followed, his steps slow and hesitant, like he was trying to draw out the moment. 

“Y/N, Stay,” he said quietly, his voice cracking just enough to break your resolve. “We can figure this out. Please.” You paused, your hand resting on the doorknob, your back turned to him. Tears threatened to spill again, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to cry anymore. You didn’t want to feel this ache that had embedded itself so deeply into your chest.

“Please don’t make this harder,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you turned to face him. The look on his face nearly destroyed you—his eyes filled with a mix of desperation and heartbreak, his hands hanging helplessly at his sides.

“I’m not trying to make it harder,” he said, taking a step closer. “I just—this, us—it means something to me. You mean something to me. I can’t…” His voice faltered, and he exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. “I can’t let you go like this.” You shook your head, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

“You’re saying that because we’re behind closed doors, T… but that’s not the problem.” He shut his eyes, his jaw tightening as if the words physically hurt him. You knew he wanted to say something, to fight back, to convince you that it didn’t matter where you were, as long as you were together. But deep down, he knew you were right. As you reached for your bag, something poked you in the side, reminding you of what you’d brought with you. A lump formed in your throat as you pulled it out, the tattered book of poems looking smaller in your hands than it had when you first tucked it away.

“I forgot…” you started, your voice barely audible. “I want you to have this.” You extended the book toward him, and he hesitated for a moment before taking it from you, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch sent a jolt through your body, one final reminder of what you were about to lose. “I’m sorry for what I said the other night,” you said, your voice breaking as fresh tears began to blur your vision. “You are the furthest thing from nothing to me. You are everything, in fact. You are it all, T.” His hands shook slightly as he took the book. 

“Please don’t do this,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. When he looked up at you, his eyes were filled with a pain so raw it made your chest tighten. “Don’t go. I’m begging you.” You couldn’t stop the tears now, and they fell freely as you took a step back, creating the distance you knew you needed to survive this. 

“I have to,” you choked out. His hand clenched around the book, holding it close to his chest like it was the only piece of you he’d have left.  Trent’s fingers trembled as he turned the fragile pages of the book, the faint scent of aged paper filling the air. It didn’t take long until he started to notice the black ink penned in a handwriting he’d only seen a number of times in birthday cards. His head was almost hurting because he couldn’t place it. It wasn’t yours. His eyes scanned the handwritten notes in the margins, each word was a delicate imprint of your mum’s love and care, left behind like breadcrumbs leading back to her. The book flopped open on it’s own by its worn seam to a page you’d pressed the flower he’d given you the other week. His heart hurt more than his head at that moment. And then he saw it—why you’d marked the page - a line your mum had circled and underlined, her handwriting curling beside it with a note that seemed to reach through time:

'Even though we never said it to each other - We knew'

'Always reminds me of you and TAA—tell him one day, okay?'

His breath caught, his chest tightening as though the air had been stolen from the room. His grip on the book wavered, his fingers brushing against the daisy you had carefully pressed between the pages, a small but profound reminder of the park, of the simple, unguarded moments you shared. The lump in his throat was unbearable as he felt the weight of everything—the love, the grief, the guilt—all crashing down at once. 

“I know this didn’t work, but…” You stood there, knowing he’d read it, barely holding it together, your voice breaking as you forced yourself to speak. 

“Stop,” Trent cut you off, his voice shaky but insistent, the emotion barely contained. His movements were deliberate as he placed the book down on the counter, as if it were sacred. Then, with no hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, like letting go would shatter him completely. “We’re not doing this,” he murmured against your hair, his voice breaking. “We’re not nothing. I know we’re not. You know we’re not… She knew we weren’t. Y/N please.” The conviction in his words only made the ache in your chest swell. You buried your face in his chest, tears spilling freely now, soaking into his shirt. 

“I’m so scared, Trent,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You felt like in a way you’d disappoint your mum in giving up this but it was terrifying to love him. He was no longer a school boy, he was larger than life. “I’m so scared I’m just the girl of the season to you. That I’ll lose you, Jack, everyone. I can’t do this again. I can’t…” You confessed amidst your tears. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, his hands cupping the back of your neck as he pulled you even closer. 

“You’re not,” he whispered fiercely, the words shaking with emotion. “You’re not the girl of the season. You’ve been the girl of every season. My only season. You’ve been every single one.” His words cracked something deep inside you, but they didn’t erase the fear. You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, your tears making the world blur around you. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, your voice breaking on every syllable.  “I don’t know how to keep everyone happy and not lose you at the same time. I feel like I’m losing everything.” His hands came to rest on either side of your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears as his forehead gently touched yours. His voice softened, but it carried an unshakable strength. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, his words wrapping around you like a lifeline. “We don’t have to have all the answers now. Just stay with me, baby. We can sort this.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as you shook your head, the weight of the situation suffocating you. 

“This isn’t right,” you whimpered, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. “None of this is right.”

“Stay,” he begged softly, his voice raw and unguarded. “Please don’t leave me like this.” You sobbed into his chest, clinging to him like he was the only thing anchoring you in the storm of your emotions. His grip on you tightened, his own tears threatening to spill as he pressed a desperate kiss to your hair. You nodded through your sobs, too broken to speak, your hands clutching at him like he was your last tether to hope. But even as you let yourself sink into the safety of his arms, the doubts lingered, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on both of you. The unsaid love was there, undeniable and unrelenting, but so was the pain, and neither of you knew how to make it stop. Trent looked at the book carefully, his fingers trembling as he reached towards it with one hand. a centimeter of the daisy still delicately pressed inside sticking out. His eyes lingered on it for a moment before turning to you, his gaze steady despite the rawness between you both. “Keep this,” he said, his voice soft but resolute as he picked it up. “She left more in there than an annotation about me.” He smiled sympathetically at you. He’d glanced at the pages before his name appeared, and although it was brief he understood your mum purposefully left this book for you. It was a way for her to communicate with you, to support you through situations you might face after she was gone. “You keep all the other stuff. I don’t need any more if I know she was on board because I’m not going anywhere… that’s all I needed to know.” His certainty was like a balm against the ache in your chest, but the weight of everything still loomed heavy in your mind. You shook your head slightly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“But if this doesn’t work… T, I can’t” you started, the fear in your words palpable. Trent stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cradle your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, catching a stray tear. 

“Then I’ll still be here,” he told you firmly, his voice tinged with quiet determination. “I just told you. I'm not leaving.” His words wrapped around your heart, pulling at every fragile piece of you. 

“But how can you be so sure?” you whispered, your voice breaking as you searched his eyes for answers. “I didn’t mean for this to be a guilt trip. I just wanted you to know…” You babbled as your tears ran down your cheeks. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice steady and calm. 

“It’s not… And… I know… because you’re it for me. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We’ll try, yeah?” You nodded sheepishly, your heart warring with your fears, but his certainty felt like a light in the darkness. “Gonna give it a try, hmm?” he asked softly, his lips ghosting over your forehead in a tender kiss. This time, your nod was more sure, a small smile breaking through the tears. 

“Okay,” you murmured. And in that moment, with the weight of the book in his hands and the promise hanging between you, it felt like maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward.

The next morning, the doorbell rang, pulling you out of your thoughts. Jack had already left for work, leaving you to shuffle to the door, still in your pajamas. You opened it to find not one but four massive flower arrangements towering in front of you. You blinked, confused, as the delivery man smiled politely and gestured for you to sign.

“Someone really likes you,” he remarked, handing you a small card after you’d awkwardly squeezed the arrangements inside. The arrangements were stunning—each one so different. One was a soft white and cream, delicate and elegant. Another burned bright with orangey-red hues, vibrant and warm. The third was lush with deep greens, earthy and grounding, and the last shimmered in an unexpected blue, rare and calming. You stood there for a moment, staring at the kaleidoscope of colors, trying to piece it together. Then you opened the card.

'To the girl I’ve let wait too many seasons—will you please let me take you out for a proper date?'

You laughed through your tears, the emotions of the past weeks bubbling over at once. The note continued, listing specific details about when and where he wanted to meet you, but you could barely read through the happy blur in your eyes. It was so him, so thoughtful, and yet so immediate—like he couldn’t stand another second without making his words from the night before a reality. The concept of girl of the season really was about his football season but the fact that flowers went beyond that. It was one for each season of the year; spring, summer, autumn, and winter. All there to signify, you were more than just a football season to him and he wanted you to know that. You held the card to your chest, tears still slipping down your cheeks as giggles broke through. He had acted quickly, proving he meant every word, every promise. Trent was asking, not waiting. Not hiding. This time, he was yours, out loud, in full color. And all you could think was… finally.

When Trent typed your address into his phone to send the delivery, his chest tightened with a familiar pang of guilt. It wasn’t just your address—it was Jack’s too. That nagging feeling of betrayal washed over him as his thumb hovered above the screen, memories from years ago creeping back unbidden. He could still hear Jack’s voice, clear as day, as if it were happening all over again. They were in Jack’s room, sprawled out after school, the usual banter bouncing around the group. A newer guy to their circle, loud and brash, had just moved to town and had made an offhand remark about you after seeing a picture on Jack’s phone.

“Is this your sister, mate? Fuck off! She’s well fit,” the guy had said, smirking. It wasn’t even a serious comment, but Jack’s reaction was immediate and sharp.

“Oi, Off-limits,” Jack had snapped, his tone firm and brooking no argument. He glanced around the room then, making sure everyone understood. “If that wasn’t already clear, no one moves to Y/N.” There was a beat of awkward silence before Noah, always the one to push a joke too far, broke it. 

“Come on, mate! What if she likes us? Girls move to me! What if she moves to me, huh?” He teased. Jack didn’t even crack a smile. 

“Nah. If she has feelings for ya, too bad.” Trent had sat quietly on the edge of the bed, his face carefully neutral, but the way Jack’s eyes flickered toward him didn’t go unnoticed. It was subtle, just a moment, but it lingered. Jack’s expression softened briefly before he looked away.

“Maybe…” Jack muttered under his breath, something unsaid hanging heavy in the room. But then, just as quickly, he turned back to Noah, snapping back into his usual banter. “But she’s not interested in you, mate. You’re a charity case.” The rest of the room burst into laughter, and the moment was gone, buried under their usual teasing. But Trent hadn’t laughed. He had felt something then, a pang of disappointment mixed with the quiet realization that Jack knew. Maybe Jack didn’t know the extent of it, but he’d always known there was something unspoken between you and Trent. And now here Trent was, years later, actively crossing the line Jack had drawn so clearly. He wasn’t a clueless teenager anymore, and the weight of what he was doing—and who he was risking—felt heavier than ever. But then his thoughts shifted to you. The way you’d looked at him the night before, your voice shaking as you’d told him he was everything, even when you thought you were losing him. That was enough to push the guilt aside, if only for a moment.

You called Layla that morning from your bedroom, your voice still thick with emotion but tinged with something lighter-relief, excitement, maybe even disbelief.

"When I tell you I was sobbing," you started, gripping the the edge of your dresser as you tried to steady your voice. "I was a mess, Layla. But then —he literally sent me flowers today. Like four arrangements. Four!" You explained. Layla didn't even pause before diving in, her tone pitched halfway between glee and exasperation.

"Finally! I've been screaming 'about time' since the first time you finally hooked up! That man's been fucking you for ages and he's just now asking you on a date?" She fell into giggles. You couldn't help but laugh, your cheeks heating even as you rolled your eyes.

"Layla! Can we not put it like that?" You tried to fight back a laugh.

"But I'm right!" she shot back. "It's been this whole dramatic saga of hiding and sneaking and you ending up crying at all hours because he's scared. And finally, he's putting it out there. I'm sorry, but I'm thrilled." You sighed, glancing at the arrangements. 

"It feels... so different this time. He said he wants to do it right. He called me the girl of every season." Your voice cracked on the last few words, the weight of everything hitting you all over again. Layla softened instantly. 

"Oh, babe. That's what you've wanted to hear, yeah? That he's sure. That he's not just scared of what Jack and the boys think but ready to fight for you." She cooed. You nodded even though she couldn't see you, tears pooling in your eyes. 

"It's just...so much. I feel like I'm still holding my breath. Like, what if it's too good to be true?" You asked her sheepishly. 

"Then let him prove it's not," Layla said firmly. "You've already been through the worst of it. Let him show you he's ready for the best of it." You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. 

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but...l think he is. Is that bad?” You asked her hesitantly hoping she’d almost lie to you if she felt otherwise. But Layla answered honestly, always. 

"No. This is good, Y/N, I can feel it," she said. "I''m so happy for you. Now we just let him sweep you off your feet properly. And wear something hot. You deserve to make him sweat." She told you very matter of fact and your mind began to work in overdrive after that imagining what you possibly had in your wardrobe that was fit for the occasion of all occasions; your first proper date with your brother’s best friend.

When the evening came, getting ready for the date felt surreal. You’d spent so long imagining this moment, and now that it was happening, the weight of it settled over you like a heavy, fluttering blanket. The mirror reflected your carefully chosen outfit, but your nerves made you question everything—was it too much? Not enough? Layla’s voice echoed in your head: Make him sweat. When the doorbell rang, your heart lurched. Trent was at your house. For a date. You opened the door with a shy smile, and Trent’s reaction stole whatever breath you had left. 

Trent had stepped out of the car, his heart already thudding in his chest as he approached the front door. For a split second, he hesitated, the weight of everything—Jack, the years of denying his feelings, the risks—hitting him all at once. This was your house, but it was also Jack’s house, and the lines between those roles had always blurred in his mind. You weren’t supposed to be this person for him. You weren’t supposed to be his. But when the door opened, and you stepped out to greet him, all of that disappeared. Everything—Jack, the past, the unspoken boundaries—faded into nothing. All that was left was you. And you were breathtaking. He blinked, stunned, as his eyes drank you in. You were wearing a black Saint Laurent mini dress that clung to your figure in all the right ways, the fabric draping elegantly across your body. The deep V neckline hinted at so much but revealed just enough to keep it tasteful, leaving him completely undone. The simplicity of the dress only heightened how stunning you looked, and Trent couldn’t believe this was the same girl he used to see in oversized jumpers and trainers, lounging on Jack’s sofa. You didn’t look like Jack’s sister anymore. You didn’t even look like the girl he’d been secretly pining for all this time. You looked like his.

“Wow,” he finally managed, his voice low and a little hoarse. He shook his head, clearly taken aback as his eyes swept over you slowly. He couldn’t stop staring, his gaze trailing from your perfectly styled hair down to the way the dress skimmed your thighs, then back up to meet your eyes. “You look…” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly as if trying to find the right words.  He didn’t even finish the thought, just stepped closer and brushed a hand down your arm as if grounding himself.

“I look…?” Your nerves melted a little at his touch, and you dared to tease him. He smiled, leaning in to kiss your temple. 

“You look perfect. Unreal…”  He cooed. A shy smile crept across your lips as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Thank you,” you murmured softly, feeling the intensity of his gaze. Trent took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he reached for you.

 “You don’t look like…” He stopped himself, realizing how ridiculous it would sound to say, you don’t look like Jack’s sister right now. Instead, he smiled, his eyes softening as he leaned in closer. “You look like you. But more. If that makes sense.” Your smile widened, your cheeks flushing. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, trying to ease the tension that was crackling between you. But Trent didn’t laugh. He couldn’t. His eyes were too busy tracing the way the soft lighting from the porch framed your face, making your features glow. You weren’t just beautiful—you were magnetic. “Let’s go,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with something more than affection—something closer to awe. 

“Hold my hand.” His words were so simple, but the warmth in them settled your nerves as you slipped your hand into his. His fingers gently brushing yours before intertwining, his grip reassuring. He gently tugged on your hand, pulling you toward him as he bent down to kiss your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment.  And as he led you to the car, his heart racing and his mind whirling, all Trent could think was how wrong he’d been to ever believe you were off limits. You weren’t just something he wanted anymore. You were something he couldn’t imagine letting go. As you walked toward the car waiting outside, the weight of the situation loomed again. You hesitated, beginning to voice your lingering fear. Your anxiety if you should even be holding his hand here in front of the house skyrocketing. 

“Are you…?” You began to speak but Trent didn’t let you finish. 

“Yeah, I’m really sure.” His voice was steady, his gaze unwavering as he glanced down at you. He traced his thumb along the back of your hand, his certainty radiating through his touch. The tension in your chest loosened, and you let out a soft hum of approval. 

“Okay.” You leaned in, kissing his shoulder as the two of you reached the car. Trent smiled down at you, opening the door with care. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something real.

The restaurant’s ambiance was a perfect blend of understated elegance and intimacy. The flickering candlelight reflected off the polished wood of your table, casting soft shadows that danced across Trent’s face. The low hum of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter from other diners barely registered; your world felt narrowed to the man sitting across from you. Trent was watching you intently, his eyes never straying far from yours. It was as though he was memorizing every detail, every expression, and every shift in your mood. You took a sip of your wine, savoring the moment, but before you could set your glass down, Trent leaned forward. His thumb gently brushed the corner of your mouth, catching a droplet of the deep red, his touch light but deliberate.

“Got you,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. His thumb lingered for a few seconds longer. You blinked, caught off guard by the tender gesture. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible as your cheeks heated. You ducked your head slightly, shy under his steady gaze. But Trent wasn’t about to let you retreat into yourself. He leaned across the table a little more, his hand moved to hold for your chin. His fingers tilted your face toward him, his touch as soft as his voice. 

“Look at me, baby,” he said gently, and when you lifted your eyes to meet his, he gave you a small, reassuring smile. Then, before you could overthink it, he closed the gap between you. His lips brushed against yours in a kiss so light it felt like a question, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned in, your heart racing as the kiss deepened for just a moment before you pulled back with a nervous giggle.

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip. “That was… woah, you had me…. That was a lot...” You laughed shaking your head. You weren’t sure what planet you were on. He had pulled you into this world tonight that felt so surreal. He’d never done that to you before, kissed you in public, flirted with you at right while you sat across a table from him, it was all so confusing, and yet, he looked calm as ever. His movements were slow and deliberate. But then Trent chuckled, leaning back in his seat, but his hand stayed on yours, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. 

“Was it now?” he teased, his grin playful. You smirked, trying to compose yourself. 

“How many girls have you done that to?” you asked, your tone light but with a touch of curiosity beneath the joke. Trent raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. 

“What kind of question is that?” He asked you. His smile now sickened handsome and taunting.

“An important one,” you shot back, your grin widening. He held up his hand, palm out like he was swearing an oath. 

“Hand on heart, I have never wiped someone’s face. Not like that.” He told you. You narrowed your eyes at him, skeptical.

“Sure,” you drawled, the sarcasm dripping from your tone.

“I swear,” he said, leaning forward with a laugh. “You can ask anyone. I’ve never done that before.” You shook your head, trying to hide the way his words made your heart flutter. 

“Right,” you muttered, looking down at your plate to avoid his gaze. The restaurant around you felt like a cocoon. The warm lighting and muted colors created a sense of privacy, even though you knew other people were dining nearby. It was hard to tell if his choice in restaurants that felt hidden was intentional or if it was just your perception, but either way, it was okay. The world outside might as well not exist you were so transfixed on him tonight. You had recently got to spend a lot of time with Trent but really getting his undivided attention at a dinner had your head spinning. And apparently that internal chaos was something he could feel. 

“Stop overthinking,” Trent said suddenly, his voice breaking through your thoughts. You looked up at him, startled. 

“I’m not.” You smiled softly trying to just act normal but you couldn’t. 

“You are.” He smirked, his fingers sliding across the table to intertwine with yours. “I can see it all over your face.” You sighed, letting your thumb trace over his hand in return.

 “Maybe I am,” you admitted. “This just… it feels surreal.”

“Surreal good or surreal bad?” he asked, his tone soft but his expression serious.

“Surreal good,” you said quickly, meeting his eyes. “Definitely good.” He smiled at that, the kind of smile that made your heart skip a beat.

 “Good,” he said simply, squeezing your hand. The rest of the evening unfolded in a blur of easy conversation and quiet laughter. Trent kept finding ways to touch you—his hand brushing against yours, his knee bumping yours under the table, his fingers trailing lightly over your wrist when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Each touch felt deliberate, like he was grounding himself in the moment. By the time dessert arrived, you’d forgotten about everything outside of this little bubble you’d created together. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t worried about what came next. You were just… happy.

Just as the waiter placed dessert on the table, your eyes drifted across the restaurant, scanning the room out of habit. That’s when you saw him—a player from Manchester United, someone you vaguely recognized. It took a moment to place him, but when you did, your stomach dropped. He wasn’t just another footballer. He was someone who was friends with Josh. And worse, he also knew Trent. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the table as a wave of anxiety crashed over you. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but it didn’t matter. The possibility that he might put two and two together made your throat tighten. Your heart raced as your mind spun through a dozen worst-case scenarios.

“Everything okay?” Trent’s voice cut through the fog. He’d been reaching for his fork, but now his full attention was on you, concern flickering in his eyes. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

 “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to sound casual. Trent didn’t buy it. His hand reached across the table, covering yours. 

“What’s wrong, baby. Is this not what you wanted?” He asked. You weren’t sure if he meant the dessert you just ordered or tonight in general, and while you thought you wanted both before now… you weren’t sure.  You hesitated, glancing back toward the other player, who was now laughing with his group, blissfully unaware of your presence. 

“It’s nothing,” you said, your voice quieter.

“Y/N,” Trent said firmly, his hand squeezing yours. “Talk to me.” You looked back at him, his steady gaze grounding you for a moment, but the weight in your chest didn’t lift.

“Someone we know is here..” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Who?” Trent’s brows furrowed, his body tensing slightly as his protective instincts kicked in.

“Some lad on Man United… I think you know him,” you said, your eyes darting nervously toward the man again. “But he knows Josh… and he knows you.” Trent’s jaw tightened, and his grip on your hand shifted, his thumb stroking over your knuckles in a soothing motion.

 “Okay,” he said slowly. “And?”

“And he might recognize me,” you blurted out. “Us. Together.” Trent leaned back slightly, his expression softening as he pieced together your anxiety. 

“You’re worried about people finding out.” He cooed softly empathizing with your fear.  This was a big change to go from stolen kisses in the kitchen to sitting out in public together. You nodded, your stomach twisting. 

“This whole night has been amazing, but… I don’t know if I’m ready for this. For being public. For the questions, the stares, the judgment. I mean, what if Jack—” you began to babble, faster more panicked.

“Stop, pretty girl.” Trent interrupted gently but firmly. “Breathe for a second.” You took a shaky breath, but your chest still felt tight. “Look at me,” he said, his tone steady. When your eyes met his, he leaned forward, his expression open and earnest. “I get it. I do. This is… a lot. And if you’re not ready, we can figure it out. But right now, it’s just us. No one else matters.” He told you in a tone that Trent reserved solely god you. It was commanding but incredibly weak all at once. You swallowed hard, his words calming you slightly, but doubt still lingered. 

“I don’t want to ruin this,” you admitted, your voice cracking.

“You won’t,” he said, his tone firm. “I won’t let you.” The conviction in his voice made you want to believe him, but the weight of everything—your past, your ex, Jack, the scrutiny that would inevitably come—still sat heavy on your chest.

 “I just…” You trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

“Baby... please. Just be here with me ,” Trent said with a small smile. “I’m here with you. That’s all that matters right now. And if it's really too much, just say the word. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work but for right now.. Just try.” He cooed gently.  You stared at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. 

“You’re being too nice.” You giggled nervously. Trent had always been unreasonably patient and kind with you and that clearly wasn’t about to change. “I don’t deserve you,” you whispered.

“Yes, you do,” he said without hesitation, his voice so sure it made your chest tighten even more. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that you could do this, that you could be brave enough to let this relationship exist outside of the shadows. But as you glanced back at the other boy across the room, your stomach churned with doubt. Trent’s hand on yours pulled your attention back to him.  “Hey,” he said softly. “baby, I'm serious, if you’re not ready, we can leave. No pressure.” Trent meant what he said but he'd be lying if a part of him wasn't aching for you just to try with him. To really commit to him, to this, to trying- it hurt. You hesitated for a moment before shaking your head.  The dinner had been perfect so far—Trent’s soft smiles, the way his fingers occasionally grazed yours on the table, and the playful, teasing lilt of his voice when he spoke. But your nerves had made it hard to focus entirely on him. You were too aware of your surroundings, glancing discreetly across the restaurant, noting every unfamiliar face. And then him. Josh’s friend. Maybe his name was Devon, you couldn't remember. And while he hadn’t said a word to you or Trent, his presence alone had unsettled you, pulling your mind into a spiral of what ifs. You felt like you were holding your breath, waiting for something to go wrong. You looked at Trent, his concern breaking through the wall of anxiety building in your chest. Trent was being so gentle, so patient, and it hit you—he deserved all of your attention tonight. It wasn’t fair to let the past shadow this moment.

“I’m okay, baby. Thank you. I'm sorry. I'm here." you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to let go of the tension in your shoulders, and allowed yourself to fall back into the bubble he created. With each passing minute, it became easier to focus solely on him. His laughter was infectious, the way he leaned in closer to you when you spoke made your stomach flutter. You’d forgotten how safe it felt to be wrapped up in someone like this, where the rest of the world melted away. But while you were blissfully unaware, Josh’s friend wasn’t. From his seat across the restaurant, he stared, squinting as recognition settled in. First, he caught sight of Trent—someone he knew well from the pitch, a rival he loved to hate. Then, his gaze shifted to you, seated across from him, clearly on a date. It was all too good. You, the ex of his best mate, now smiling, laughing, leaning into the guy who had made headlines time and again for his assists. He reached for his phone, holding it low as he snapped a photo of you both, capturing the intimacy of the moment. Trent’s hand resting on yours, your head tilted slightly as you laughed at something he’d just said. He smirked, tucking the phone away, already composing the perfect explanation to Josh when they inevitably debriefed. Meanwhile, you and Trent remained nonchalant, completely unaware of the brewing storm outside your little world. It didn’t matter, though—not right now. Your focus was on the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, on how his foot brushed against yours under the table. For that moment, it was just the two of you—soft beginnings and unspoken promises, blissfully unaware of the chaos looming on the horizon.

As the car rolled down Trent’s driveway, the engine cut and he turned to you, his hand still loosely holding yours. “I’m off tomorrow,” he said, his voice soft but hopeful. “You’ll stay with me tonight?” He asked. You tilted your head, pretending to consider it, but the grin tugging at your lips gave you away. 

“Obviously,” you teased with a giggle.

“C’mon,” he said with a smirk, stepping out of the car and coming around to open your door, his hand extended to help you out. As you walked to his front door, he hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his tone quieter. 

“I know this might sound stupid, but… I feel like I don’t sleep as well when you’re not here.” Your heart clenched at his honesty, and you turned to look at him, warmth spreading through your chest. 

“Aw, I’m sorry,” you said, teasing but still genuine. “Guess you’ll just have to invite me over more often.”  You smiled at him.

“Yeah?” He smiled down at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. 

“Yeah,” you said confidently, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ll be here whenever you need me.” Trent unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let you in first. 

“That’s all the time.” As you walked past him, he murmured under his breath, almost like he didn’t mean for you to hear it. You stopped just inside the doorway and turned to look at him, your expression softening. 

“Hmm?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, a bashful smile tugging at his lips. But you weren’t letting him off that easy.

“No, say it again. You said something,” you cooed, stepping closer to him, your curiosity piqued. He hesitated, running a hand over his hair, before finally meeting your eyes.

 “I said that’s all the time. I need you all the time.” He repeated himself feeling a little embarrassed. For a moment, the air between you felt heavier, charged with something unspoken but deeply felt. You stepped closer, your hand reaching up to brush against his cheek. 

“You’re such a closeted melt, you know that?” you teased, your voice trembling slightly with emotion.

“Yeah, well,” he said, his voice softening as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “You bring it out of me.” You leaned into him, your forehead resting against his, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. It was just you and Trent, tangled up in each other, finding solace in the quiet honesty of the moment.

The moment you stepped into Trent’s ensuite that night, a wave of peace swept over you, so profound it nearly took your breath away. You paused in the doorway, your hand resting on the frame as your eyes scanned the room. It was large but not overly ornate, it felt like him—clean, understated, yet warm. Your toothbrush stood beside his on the sink, its placement deliberate and thoughtful. A small bottle of your favorite cleanser sat next to his cologne, nestled naturally as if it had always belonged there. A claw clip of yours rested near the edge of the counter, a quiet, unspoken reminder of the nights you’d spent here. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to undo you. You felt a tightness in your chest, not from anxiety or pain, but from an overwhelming sense of being seen. In the past, you’d been in rooms like this before. You’d picked up a bobby pin that didn’t belong to you, brushed past an earring left by someone else, and each time, it stung like a fresh wound, proof that you were just one of many. But here? Here, there were no ghosts of anyone else. Only you. It was all you tucked neatly beside only him. You took a step forward, letting your fingers trail along the edge of the counter. The thought of it—Trent deliberately making room for you, keeping your things here like they were as much a part of his space as his own—made your heart swell. It was such a simple thing, yet it felt monumental.

The sound of his footsteps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You turned slightly to see him walk in, peeling his T-shirt off over his head in one easy motion. His body, lean and strong, caught the soft light of the room. He tossed the shirt onto the hamper carelessly before his eyes found yours in the mirror. A small, easy smile played on his lips as he crossed the room toward you, his movements unhurried. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you gently into him. His warmth seeped into your back as he pressed his chin against your shoulder, meeting your gaze in the mirror.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his voice low and steady, full of sincerity. You turned your head to look at him directly, but before you could speak, he tilted his head down, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your neck. His lips brushed against your skin, and the simple touch sent a shiver through you. “I mean it,” he murmured into the curve of your shoulder, his voice muffled but no less sure. “I can’t sleep without you sometimes, baby.” His confession made your breath hitch. Your chest rose and fell, your heart racing, but not from nerves. This was so different, quieter, yet somehow so much deeper. You turned fully into his embrace, letting your hands rest on his forearms, your fingers tracing the lean muscles there. His lips trailed across your skin, pressing soft, unhurried kisses along your neck and shoulder. He wasn’t rushing; he was savoring, as if every touch of his lips was a silent reassurance, a promise he didn’t yet know how to put into words. You let your eyes flutter shut, leaning back into him as he tightened his hold on you. His hands slid beneath your shirt, his fingers finding their place on your bare stomach. He rubbed slow, languid circles there, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “You look so good like this,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and reverent. A quiet hum escaped your lips as you leaned into him even more, your head resting against his shoulder. It wasn’t just his touch that made you feel this way; it was the way he held you, like you were something precious, something he didn’t want to let go of.

“This,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “This feels… perfect.” You told him.

“It does,” he replied, his voice equally soft but certain. For a while, you stayed there, wrapped in each other, letting the stillness of the moment settle over you. The air between you was charged yet calming, full of unspoken truths and quiet reassurances. As his hands continued their soothing motion on your stomach, you felt it—a profound sense of belonging. This wasn’t just a room, or a night, or even a fleeting moment. This was what you’d been searching for, what you hadn’t known you needed until now.

“You really like when I stay with you?” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly with emotion.

“I really do,” he promised, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. His words weren’t just for the moment; they felt like a vow, one you believed with your whole heart. And as you stood there, his arms around you, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet comfort of something that finally felt like home. Your moment of bliss was split when his phone rang. It was late, no one but someone important would call this late so you nodded for him to take it. He placed a couple more kisses onto your shoulder and your neck before dragging his hands off of you.

"Come to bed when you’re ready," he murmured nodding you on to finish getting ready for bed whilst he answered a phone call that ended up being from his agent.  

As you stepped out of the en-suite, Trent was already lying on the bed, propped up against the headboard, his dark eyes fixed on you. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the bedside lamp, casting a warm glow over his chiseled features. He looked god-esque, his tanned skin glistening in the soft light, and his brown eyes sparkling with desire. You could feel a rush of excitement as you noticed the bulge in his sweatpants, a clear indication of his arousal. Smiling shyly, you approach the bed, your heart racing. Setting your phone down on the nightstand, you climbed onto the bed, your eyes never leaving his. Trent's gaze traveled down your body, taking in every curve, his eyes lingering on your tits, now partially exposed in your little silk pajama set.

"You look beautiful," he says, his voice deep and husky. "I love seeing you like this, at home with me… getting into bed with me.” He told you and though you agreed with loving his domestic this all felt you really liked the undertone of lust. You blushed at his words, feeling a surge of pleasure at the way he was able to make you feel desired. 

"Yeah?” you replied, your voice a little breathless. "I like how you look at me when I get into your bed.” You smirked. Trent chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent shivers down your spine. 

"I can't help it, baby. You're so fucking sexy." He reached out and ran his fingers along your jawline, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. "I've been thinking about this all day. About having you here, back in my bed, doing all the things I've been dreaming of." Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You'd been dreaming of this moment too, of being with Trent, of a night like tonight exploring the passion and desire you'd both kept hidden for so long now bringing it out in public. Yet, in the bedroom, in private, was where you most wanted to be. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as his thumb brushed over your lower lip. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "I want to touch you, taste you, make you say my name." He cooed gently with a purr. Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. You  always knew Trent was a confident and dominant guy, but hearing him express his desires so openly sends a thrill through your body every time.  You wanted to please him, to submit to his every whim, and the thought excited you beyond measure.

"Yes, please," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I want that now, baby." Trent's eyes darkened with a fierce intensity, and he pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, a gentle tease that left you craving more.

 "I'm going to take care of you, baby," he murmurs between kisses. As his lips captured yours, you melted into the kiss, your body molding perfectly to his. His tongue danced with yours, exploring, tasting, and claiming. You can taste the mint from your toothpaste on his tongue, a refreshing contrast to the heat building between you. His kiss was demanding, possessive, and it sent a clear message—he wants you, and he's going to have you. Your hands began to roam over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his freshly clean shirt he’d just put on. You tugged at the fabric, eager to feel his skin against yours. Trent broke the kiss, his breathing heavy as he helped you lift his shirt over his head, revealing his sculpted torso. The sight of his bare chest took your breath away. His skin was smooth and tanned, with a light dusting of hair that trails down his stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his joggers.

"Fuck, you're so hot, T," you whispered, running your fingers over his pecs, feeling the rigid definition of his muscles. Trent's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at your words. He leaned back, pulling you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist. The position giving you a delicious sense of power. You took a moment to admire the sight of his strong body beneath you.

"Y/N," he growled your name, his hands gripping your thighs. "Show me how much you want me." He commanded you. You bit your lip, feeling a surge of boldness as you reached down grasping the waistband of his joggers. With slow, deliberate movements, you slid them down his hips, revealing his thick, erect cock, straining against his boxer briefs. You let out a soft gasp at the sight, your body throbbing with need, your fingers tracing the length of his shaft through the thin fabric. Trent's breath hitched as your fingers teased him, he bucked his hips, seeking more contact.  "Fuck, baby," he groans. "Take what you want. Show me.” You didn’t need to be told twice. With a swift motion, you hooked your thumbs under the elastic of his underwear and pulled them down, freeing his hard length. His cock sprung free, thick and heavy, the head glistening with pre-cum. You lean down, your breath ghosting over the sensitive skin, making him shudder. "Suck my cock, pretty girl," he commanded smugly, his hands gently dragging up your arm, to your shoulder, before moving to push some of your hair back. You obliged with a smile and a hum, lowering your head and taking the tip of his cock into your warm mouth. Trent let out a guttural moan as you swirled your tongue around the head, tasting the salty sweetness of him. You sucked gently, taking him deeper, inch by inch, until you could feel his hands in your hair, encouraging you to take more. "That's it, good girl," he grunted, his hips thrusting gently, fucking your mouth. And you took him well, minute after minute. "You wanna make me cum, baby? Suck me nice and slow, feel how hard you make me." You moaned around his length, the vibrations sending him over the edge. Trent's hands tighten in your hair, holding you in place as he empties his load down your throat. You swallow, relishing the taste of him, the evidence of his pleasure. He pulled you up, his lips seeking yours, sharing a deep, passionate kiss. "You're incredible," he breathed, his hands stroking your back. "I can't get enough of you." You smiled against his lips, feeling empowered by his words. 

"I want to feel you inside me, T," you whispered, your hands roaming down his body, eager for more of him. He grinned, his eyes alight with anticipation.

“Mmmm, good, cause I plan to be inside you all night, baby." With that, he rolled you onto your back, his body covering yours, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands slide under your top, caressing your skin, making you squirm with delight. "Let me take this off," he murmurs, his fingers deftly pulling up your silk tank top. You lifted your arms, allowing him to remove the garment, baring your tits to his hungry gaze. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your tits, your nipples already taut and begging for attention. "So fucking gorgeous," he growled, lowering his head to take a tight peak into his mouth. His tongue teased and suckled, drawing a moan from deep within you. You arched into his touch, your hands threading through his hair, holding him to you as he lavished attention on your sensitive flesh. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, squeezing, and caressing, making you feel alive and desired in a way you never had. "So good f’me, baby," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin as he moves to the other boob, giving it the same attentive treatment. You're lost in a haze of pleasure, your body humming with desire. Trent's hands travel down your body, playing with the waistband of your shorts before sliding them down your legs, leaving you clad only in your lacy panties. He took a moment to admire your naked form, his eyes burning with appreciation. "You're so fucking beautiful, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with admiration. "I’ve wanted this for so long. Every time feels like dream. Just want to worship every inch of you."  His words sent a thrill through your body, almost as if he cast a spell with them causing your legs to magically spread in silent invitation, eager for more of his touch. Trent knelt between your thighs, his eyes fixed on your core, now covered only by a thin layer of silk. "Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asked tauntingly but his voice hoarse with need.

“Mhhhmm. Please, T.” You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps as he hooked his fingers under the elastic of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs. He took his time, his eyes never leaving your exposed heat, drinking in the sight of your glistening folds.

"So wet just for me," he murmurs, his fingers gently parting your lips, exposing your clit. You let out a soft cry as his finger brushes over your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. Trent leaned down, his breath hot against your swollen flesh, and then he replaced his finger with his mouth, his tongue flicking and lapping at your clit.

"Oh God, T, fuck," you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as he feasted on your pussy, his tongue delving deep, tasting your essence. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending you closer to the edge. His fingers joined his tongue, sliding into your wet heat, stretching and filling you as he suckled your clit. Your body coiled tighter with each stroke, each flick of his tongue, until you were teetering on the precipice of release.

"Cum for me, baby," he urges, his voice muffled against your sex. "Let me feel you come on my tongue." His words pushed you over the edge, and you cried out, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure rippling through you. Trent didn’t let up though, his tongue and fingers worked in perfect harmony, drawing out your orgasm until you were left trembling and sated. He moved up your body, his lips finding yours, sharing the taste of your climax. "So good f’me, baby," he breathes, his eyes filled with adoration. "I love making you feel good. Love making you cum." You tiredly smiled, your heart full as you pull him close, feeling the deep connection between you. 

"I love cumming for you, T," you whispered, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his face. Both of you were using the orgasm as a front. Hiding behind the physical sensations to mask the very deep emotional connection developing. Neither of you really cared about that specific orgasm, no matter how good it was - you just were so clearly in love with each other and needed to say something but this wasn’t the time. It wasn’t the place. "I've never felt this way before." You sheepishly told him. He kissed you softly, his lips brushing yours in a tender caress.

 "I know, baby. I feel it too. This is just the beginning. Promise" Trent cooed. He was talking about sex tonight but he was also talking about your relationship, your feelings. As his words began to sink in, you realized this night was just the start of something much bigger. The rest of the evening was spent in every position possible. Each orgasm hacking away at your restraint. You were falling weaker and weaker to him literally and figuratively, terrified you’d let those three little words slip. But after round five and orgasm seven you said no more, clinging to Trent, exhausted and spent, your eyes fluttering closed as he held you securely rubbing his hands up and down your body gently. He hummed in agreement kissing your glistening skin. He cleaned you up but you barely remember it as you were focused on nothing else but not letting your tired mind and body mutter how truly in love with him you really were. You successfully fell to sleep with no slip ups but Trent could feel the tension. He almost wished you had said it so he could finally admit it to you but that wasn't the case. And so that night, he held you tighter to him than he ever had before as he dozed off, unable to leave any space for the words you both longed to say. He was struggling to bite back the feelings looking at you asleep in his arms, the words so desperate to come out now. You looked so different now. Different than you did on the porch and you felt different too. You felt like you were his. But it wasn't just you, it all felt different, so different. Things had changed. You two had changed and there was no turning back now.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 11 xx

[scudismystud]

You’re on the right track but I think there’s more to it than that though. Spoilers under the cut.

Gale was told from a very young age that he would be a great wizard so he has to shoulder the expectation that he has to become one again after his falling out with Mystra (which I am of the opinion they were both wrong it wasn’t him just messing up with her- she was also using him but that’s a whole other conversation). Gale believes his only worth is if he is a great wizard and that is so heartbreaking. This is why he is so willing to sacrifice himself at the drop of a hat. He believes that if he can’t be as powerful as he was with Mystra and heralded as a great wizard instead of a great disappointment that he might as well give his life in a heroic way. He desperately wants to be great - like he views Mystra to be.

The reason he talks about her so often is because he wants to be her. This is clear when you reach Act 3 and he starts talking about the idea of becoming a god himself. Gale has megalomaniacal tendencies and will either pursue them if left to his own devices by the player because he just wants to be great. It isn’t until the player chooses options to tell him that he isn’t defined by his magic or grand power that Gale starts to realize he has worth just being himself outside of magic and Mystra. Yes he will always love magic but he becomes aware that it’s something he can enjoy without having to idolize Mystra in the unhealthy way he does through the first act of the game.

Relating back to your analogy, I think this is more of a case where Disney had all of the legal software to draw and you show talent from a very young age and everyone says you’re going to be the next great artist so Disney CEO hires and then starts sleeping with you when you’re of age. As you get older and your relationship is getting closer (at least on your end you believe the relationship is equal) you start asking for better software you know the ceo is using but they keep telling you that you aren’t good enough.

You then find out there’s a hidden software online that you’ve been told is an altered version of Disney software. You download it in the hopes of bringing it to Disney ceo thinking they’d be happy you found upgraded software for them but then they’re mad at you. They cast you out of their circle.

You then get a virus from that program that is going to slowly kill your computer if you don’t keep letting it eat your files and even though you can still use your other programs from Disney they don’t work like they used to so you can’t make art as great as you once did. You then are told by that ceo that they can stabilize the computer temporarily but you should get rid of your computer which would also kill you in the process.

On top of that you also find out the software you had downloaded never belonged to Disney to begin with. You find out other software has always existed but the public cannot be trusted with it according to Disney CEO. You find out you’ve been misled by the CEO for years and there’s so much more out there you could sharing with the world. You then start to pursue making yourself a CEO convincing yourself you’ll be different than Disney CEO.

I do think comparing Mystra to a CEO is very fitting because she does have a horrible power imbalance to the relationship she has with Gale so he sees her in a good light despite all the things she does wrong for way too long. I don’t think Mystra is evil but I do think that what she did to Gale was wrong and warped him into the man who thinks he needs to be a god to be worthy of being alive. To reiterate again this is why he is constantly talking about her. He wants to be her. He wants infinite knowledge and magic.

At least that’s what he wants if left to his own pursuits. If you romance him, he then starts to think of a future with you. He still talks about Mystra but it isn’t in the idolizing way it was before (“you make me forget my goddess” line my beloved). He comes into his own as a character who could see himself being happy as Gale Dekarios the man instead of Gale of Waterdeep the great wizard.

I feel like people don't grasp that Gale keeps talking about Mystra because (among other things) he's obssessed with magic.

I think it's hard to understand because in our world, any skill is an existence in and of itself but for a rough example,

Imagine if Disney had a monopoly on drawing. They were in charge of all of the drawing softwares, they own all of the art supply companies and hell, maybe they even own paper.

Now imagine you royally mess it up with the CEO of Disney. You love to draw but anytime you draw, it's ultimately seen or controlled by Disney. It must be rough. I feel for him, I really do.

Mystra isn't just some goddess connected to magic. Since most people can only safely access through the weave and Mystra manages the weave, as far as Gale is concerned, Mystra IS magic.