#i’ve given him too many nice outfits

[omoriisstruggling]

levi sketches for all the love on the last post :D

references below!

[girliism]

girldad!art who is currently shopping for halloween costumes.

“are we doing family costumes this year?” art asked you. halloween was in a week and surprisingly spirit halloween still had a few costumes. “no, she said she’s too old for that now. she wants to be a zombie.” you told art, picking up one of the zombie makeup kits. art made a confused face. not many eight year old girls wanna be zombies for halloween. “why a zombie?”

you dropped the making up kit into the shopping basket. “patrick’s been binging the walking dead with the girls when he watches them.” you reveal, having only found out a while ago yourself. “remind me to have a conversation with him about that later.” art mumbled.

—

“can we trick or treat at lily’s house? her neighborhood has better candy.” your daughter spoke, interrupting you trying to do her makeup for the hundredth time. “yes, we can if you stop talking and let me finish this.” you told her and she immediately straighten up and closed her mouth. but because she was an antsy eight year old that only lasted a minute until she was back to squirming in her seat and asking you random questions.

you put the final touches on her zombie makeup before picking up the mirror flipping it towards her. “alright girly, take a look.” you watched as her eyes and her smile grew wider. “mommy, i look so good!” she took the mirror from you to examine her face up closer. “let’s go show daddy.”

—

you and art stood in the kitchen while your daughter hide behind the wall. “both of you cover your eyes and i’ll count to three.” she order the two of you. “but i’ve already seen your outfit.” you said. she stuck her little arm out and pointed a finger at you. “both. eyes. closed.” she demanded with a bossy attitude you liked to pretend she totally didn’t get from you.

after peeking around the corner and seeing that both yours and art’s eyes were closed she walked out to stand in front of you. “ok, open your eyes in three …two…. one.” you and art tore your hands away from your eyes. “look daddy, i’m you but as a zombie!” she beamed.

“you look amazing! oh my god.” art smiled at his daughter who stood dress up in an all white tennis outfit that had little dirt and blood stains and her hand holding a bloody tennis racket. “we used the picture from when you and uncle patrick won the doubles as a reference.” she said. “i can see that.” art moved to pick her up, an action that was getting a little strenuous given how big she was now but he hasn’t throw his back out yet so he supposes it’s still ok. “you found my old hat and everything. and look at this makeup, mommy did very good.” he turned to you giving you a smile. “how did you come up with such a costume?”

your daughter took a deep breath getting ready to explain. “well, first i was just gonna be a plain zombie but there was gonna be hundreds of zombies tonight and i thought that was too boring. so i decided to combine my two favorite things, you and zombies.” she said with a zombieish groan at the end snapping her teeth at art. you laughed at their antics before clapping your hands together. “ok, time for pictures so we can go.” art let her down to the ground and she ran off to get her tennis ball looking trick or treat basket before posing up a storm for you.

—

“whoa, zombie art donaldson. awesome costume kid.” patrick greeted the three of you in front of the zweig house before high-fiving your daughter. tashi and lily soon came out of the house. “who are supposed to be.” you asked lily. “spider gwen from into the spiderverse. see mommy let me put in pink clip ins.” she showed off the curly pink clips that blended in with her hair. “nice.” you gave her a nod of approval.

more pictures were taken of the girls in their costumes standing in front of tashi and patrick’s halloween decorations.

“candy candy candy.” lily and your daughter chanted, their arms hooked together as they skipped ahead of you and tashi. art and patrick hung a little further back. “hey, patrick can i take to you.” patrick hummed. “could you maybe not watch the walking dead with two eight year olds.” art suggested. patrick scoffed. “oh come on. we just got to season three things are getting good i can’t leave the girls hanging. plus i cover their eyes at any inappropriate part so don’t worry.” patrick patted art’s back. art shook his head mumbling an “ok.”

—

the girls circled the block at least three times to get as much candy before heading back to tashi and patrick’s house where they traded back and forth until they crashed on the couch.

art carried his daughter out to the car bidding good night to tashi and patrick. once at home and inside your held your arms out so art could pass your daughter off to you to get her ready for bed but art said that he would do it.

“sorry, we didn’t do family costumes. i know you wanted to.” she sleepily mumbled. she had her teeth brushed and pajamas on, face clean of all the makeup that art gently wiped off. “you don’t need to apologize i’m fine with it. plus your costume was way better anyway.” art pincher her sides lightly. she let out light giggles. “thanks. good night, daddy.”

“good night.” art tucked her in tight and placed one last kiss on her forehead before shutting off her lamp and leaving.”

(happy halloween!!)

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Cookie's Fic Recs

I feel like no one really does rec lists anymore! But last night I was feeling and sappy and mushy and decide to put together my own little list of fics I love. These are in no particular order, and they don't follow any real theme/tropes other than I dearly love them all, and you should definitely give them a read!

*I tried to tag everyone I could find a blog for, but if I missed anyone, please let me know I can tag them!

The Instinctual Gravitation Towards Warmth by kimkhimhant (@kimkhimhant)

This is my comfort fic. No joke, this is what I read when I want to die. It’s angsty as all hell, it’s made me cry, but it is so indescribably good. Kim is an addict going through recovery, finding love and family along the way. He hits rock bottom—arguably multiple times—but always claws his way back, always with the support of the people that love him. It’s such a beautifully written and cathartic story, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it. But it’s almost certainly the fic I’ve reread the most. 

Error in the Code by BlackwaterVial (@blackwatervial)

Sneaking this VegasPete onto my otherwise KimChay list bc it altered me. I think most people already know what it is, but jic: it’s a sci-fi/cyberpunk/android AU, and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever read. I go feral for androids and this fic delivers in all the best ways. The world building alone makes me weep. But all of the characters interactions, the way we get such an in depth feel for everyone despite the limited PoV, and the most satisfying take I’ve seen on android artificial intelligence ever—I can’t recommend this story enough. 

Idiots & Idioms by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical. This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical.

Silver for Truth by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This fic is the Kim & Khun vs. Tawan team-up we deserve. Kim is a ruthless, demented bitch, that's too cool to beat Tawan to death bc what if he messes up his wrists right before a show?? Big, get 'im. Kim is the feral-est cat ever, leaving behind evidence and bodies for Kinn bc saying "hey bro, I still love you/look out for you" is too much emotion for him. The fic is also from Tawan's PoV which also makes it the funniest thing ever, for reason that I won't spoil <3

The Wiked Lies We Live by shubaka (@shubaka)

Oh my god, this fic. Canon divergence (technically??) where most things happen as normal... except KimChay have been bodyswaped at the start of it. The little twists Shu puts on the events of canon, given it isn't the correct characters experiencing them (such as Big being very confused about why Kim is suddenly nice to him??) are so much fun.

A Portrait of Affection by froginthesun (@froginthesun)

Kim is an artist and Chay is the part time nude model he hires. ‘Nuff said right there, except no it isn’t, this fic is beautiful. Kim’s frustration with his craft is palpable, and so is the way he rediscovers his passion through Chay. The writing is wonderfully detailed, every chapter felt like walking through a museum. And tension slowly building between them—unf. 

Sunshine in My Closet by moneskin 

This is an A/B/O AU that is so satisfying to read. Typical hilarious boundary violations (Chay stealing Kim’s clothes, a bewildered Kim handing over a freshly worn outfit, having barely any idea who this strange kid is) characteristic of the AU, but then the story also delves deeper into more serious topics. Chay has a history of abuse from a past alpha that he has to learn how to navigate with Kim, who is incredibly patient and works hard to make Chay feel safe and loved. Overall a very sweet and comforting read. Seriously, this fic makes me melt.

Your Body Feels Like Disrespect by Blue_Jay (@bluejayfiction)

This fic is so funny because it begins with Kim blurting out, in the middle of an Important Mafia MeetingTM, that he and Chay aren’t having sex, and then wanting to die about it. Followed by Kim’s family trying very hard to both support and terrorize him. It’s hilarious, sexy, and one of my favorite reads when I need a pick me up. (Bless Kinn’s determination to be a Good and Supportive Brother, and Vegas for being the Worst Person Ever.) 

In Silent Screams (In Wildest Dreams) by BelladonnaWyck and StratsWrites 

This is definitely a darker fic. There’s DubCon, Kim is generally Sketchy, but it’s very hot. And I love explorations of his character where he isn’t just outwardly psychotic and cruel. This fic shows the kind of dark that I think Kim could have been, if you just tilted his character a little to the left. He still seems very much the way he is in canon, but he’s also… a lot more calculating and cold, sometimes. I love it. 

Forget-me-always by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

I cannot sing the praises of this fic enough. I think it’s probably tied for IGTW for my most-read fics. I’ve probably read this one more often in reality, but only bc it’s shorter. But oh my god, does it hurt. Kim gets struck with amnesia post-break up, does a little light stalking, and gets Chay to help him learn/remember who he is. In the process realizes that wow his life sucks, and there’s no way he wants to go back to it. Especially if he’s the kind of person that hurt Chay. He would rather start over. (Ofc, he doesn’t get to). This fic makes me cry, it’s so good 

Coffeehouse Play by AirgodSLV

This is a canon divergence AU that I adore. The KimChay characterization is on point. I love that despite everything going on around them, they also get to be two boys that hang out and play videogames and try to shove each other off the couch while Porsche makes dinner. Given the age difference it’s so easy to make Kim Older and MatureTM, but he’s still a kid, and this story never once forgets that. It felt so honest and true to his character that Kim does have a lot of plans, and he’s very smart, but he’s also still so young, and sometimes shit just goes wrong. 

Want and Need by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

God, this fic. T h i s f i c. Post-canon Chay goes to therapy and becomes a camboy (in that order) and it’s delicious. Watching the steady breakdown of his and Porsche’s relationship is so satisfying. Everything one of them does to make things worse feels awful, but is so in character that it’s hard to be mad at them for their decisions. Kim readily giving up control if it means he can be with Chay, and Chay getting a crash course in how to dom. All of it is just. So good. This is such a good fic

Your Look, Through This Lens by WildelyDawn (@wildelydawn)

AU where Chay becomes Kim’s photographer. This fic emotionally hobbled me. Just a fair warning. You will cry. But that said, the ending isn’t nearly as sad as the tags would have you believe! At least in my opinion. I think it’s fairly open/hopeful, and beautiful either way. I love the way this fic shows how Kim balances being Wik while also being part of the mafia. And I love how temperamental he is; always hot and cold, while remaining pretty even as far as how he expresses himself. Always very aloof/detached, just out of reach, with Chay never really sure where he stands/what Kim wants. But at the same time the fic happens just before Kim gets a big break, and the subtle ways he shows his excitement and nerves as things start coming together—it’s wonderful. 

Love’s a Two-Way Dream by giraffeter (@giraffeter)

This fic is dark. Kim atticwife’s Chay and it’s not a good time. But!! It’s not just dark for the sake of it; Kim is a genuine sociopath, yes, but it unfolds slowly. You get a sense of creeping dread as he does things that are just a little bit off, until finally the Big Bad Thing happens. At first he seems normal, playing the part of good and respectful boyfriend. But it just goes downhill from there, and I love every word of it. The ending especially is very satisfying. 

In the Dark of the Night by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

Not to recc everything Bard writes, but… This is a rape recovery fic that I feel handles the subject matter incredibly well. There’s no gratuitous rape scenes, and even with the flashbacks, I don’t remember any of them being incredibly detailed. I think Bard handled the fic with incredible respect and grace. This is another one that’ll make you cry. The way Chay handles his past trauma while trying to have a relationship with Kim is so painfully real. And so is the way Kim wants to help him, but doesn’t really know how. But they figure it out together, and it’s amazing. (Also Kim acquires a stabby child in the form of an OC that I adore.) I just love the path Chay's recovery takes in this fic, it's so visceral and relatable. It's all around just. So good. I love this fic for the same reason I love IGTW and it's because both fics show an excellent depiction of recovery.

Chains and Crowns, A Flower Can Both Make by Sweet_William (@sweet-william-writes)

Incredibly Regency AU. Historical AUs are some of my all time favorites, and this is everything I didn’t know I needed. Sweet_William captures the essence of an Austen-esque style while still making this feel like the KinnPorsche characters. Chay is wonderfully feisty, Kim is delightfully complex, and the various family interactions always had me cackling. 

Simple Little Secrets by CorvusCloudburst (@cloudburst-ink)

Chay sees the future when he touches people. Kim thinks he’s either insane, a spy, or a conman. Oh, and Chay’s visions of Kim? Always sex-related. The shenanigans are endless. What more do you need?? They’re both crazy4crazy and it’s my favorite thing ever. Their banter is snappy and fun, the writing is sexy, and it never once gave me second-hand embarrassment despite Chay’s horrible situations. 

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 6

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, sexually charged conversations, teasing/banter. Smut, sex toys, minor bondage, spanking. A guest star of Anthony DiNozzo! I didn't really want to bring in a whole THIRD fandom into this but it ended up working out really nicely and I can play around with it in future chapters too! It feels like it's been ages since I've updated this so clearly the last week was a long one lol. Remember how I said I wanted to be a chapter ahead from now on with my series? Yeah that quickly did not happen. LOL. I'm gonna try to keep up with it, and I promise y'all won't wait longer than a week between chapters, I just need to hunker down and write!

Working for Heather meant that you worked insane hours that could change at the drop of a hat, but it also meant that you could essentially make your own schedule whenever you wanted. You could do most of your job from home or a hotel, as long as you had Wi-Fi you were in the clear, you spent a lot of your time gallivanting around D.C to finish whatever tasks you needed to. Shuffling your schedule around constantly meant that you were more than given the liberty to a Thursday afternoon off and that is exactly why you were meandering down Wisconsin Avenue with Tony in tow. Some of your friends questioned why you always went shopping with him, but the truth was he knew style, understood expensive taste, always told the truth if something looked bad and the entire experience was more efficient. If you went out with your girlfriends on a shopping spree you got dragged into twelve stores you needed nothing from and had to wait while they tried on countless amounts of outfits. With Tony the most that would happen would you’d have some extra browsing time at L. Priori because he got distracted by the watches.

“You got some big White House party coming up or something?” He asked, taking a sip of the coffee you’d bought him earlier.

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulder as you picked up the small bag, “no.”

“We’ve done jewels, we’ve done shoes,” he pushed the door open for you, holding it while you crossed through the entry way and back out onto the street, “you dropped off three dresses for alterations and looked through the catalogue of what’s coming in…”

“I just want to revamp my closet a little bit, make sure I’m prepared for summer, you know how many extra garden parties I end up at.”

“And your boss is okay with that amount of cleavage?” He asked with a smirk and you rolled your eyes, “I think you’re bullshitting me.”

“I got a little carried away doing spring cleaning and tossed half my closet.” You bluffed, “I work so much I forgot I actually wore the other shit and now need to replace it.” Veering off to the side your hand tugged open the door to Jaryam and Tony followed you inside.

“When’s your next date?” He asked with a grin.

“I never said anything about a date.”

“Then why did you just drag me into a lingerie store?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “I didn’t drag you anywhere, you love this shit. I just want some new pieces; you’ve got the right eye for colour and the masculine fetishistic imagination to tell me which ones I’ll look the best in.”

He chuckled darkly, not bothering to disagree with you as you made your way further into the shop, he was a pace behind you, fiddling with a price tag when he scoffed and you turned back to him with a raised brow, “I’ve heard you complain about the prices in Victoria’s Secret and that’s got nothing on this, a thong for a hundred and fifty dollars?”

“It’s… about the quality.” You shrugged, “thirty dollars for a scrap of fabric that falls apart in a month made in a sweatshop isn’t a good investment.” You picked up the pair that he was looking at, reading through the tag, “something hand stitched made with quality fabric that’s going to last? Worth it.”

“Hmm.” He replied, surveying you for a minute as you put the thong back on the rack, “you know, I noticed when you picked up the coffee that you used a black card…”

“You’re really working those sleuthing skills today, aren’t ya?” You teased back with a grin, moving onto a wall of lace bras.

“It’s not exactly a difficult mystery.” He smirked, following you, “fancy shoes, nice jewels, new clothes, expensive lingerie,” you turned back to face him, an unimpressed look on your face and he practically caged you into the wall, “who’s your daddy?”

“Ew, Tony, fuck off.” You groaned, shoving at his chest as he laughed, “coffee and meals can be turned into a write off. I used Heather’s card.”

“Bah! Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll just run your financials when I get back to the office.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “they call you a very Special Agent DiNozzo?”

“Why yes, yes they do.” He smiled, getting a little smug about it and you shook your head at him.

“Then explain to me how running my financials would let you in on whose card I’m using.” You asked, watching as he opened his mouth to give you some witty response but he couldn’t find one, gaping for a minute before he let out a defeated huff and you tugged him in the other direction, “now c’mon, I know you have a good eye for lingerie.”

“Now that, I will not deny.” He replied with a smile and you did roll your eyes as he followed you deeper into the shop.

You combed through practically every shelf in the place, trying to figure out what kind of styles you were going to settle on before Tony started to share his opinions. He reminded you how good blue looked on you when you picked up a soft pink set and suggested the lace florals over lace butterflies. You were narrowing it down between a handful of choices and he was quick to intervene when he noticed you were eliminating all the variation.

“Wait,” he cut in, swiping the one you were trying to put back on the shelf, “keep that one. Get rid of this one.” He plucked the peach set from your collection, tossing it into the return pile.

“It’s cute!” You protested.

“Exactly. Everything you’re keeping is ‘cute’, you’re playing it too safe and I know that’s not you. The lilac one is the nicest, little hint of lace for a bonus, so get it.” He started flicking through the rack you had your favourites on, “keep the teal one for the crystals, plus it matches that pair of heels you bought. The rest of this batch can go but add these to your buying list.” He picked up a lacy black and red set that was mostly see through and included a garter belt, handing it off to you, and a gorgeous deep green set. “That’ll look great with your skin,” his brow furrowed for a second as he examined it, “wait it’s not your size, you’re what?” His eyes were suddenly on you and you groaned,

“Stop staring at my tits.” You stated dryly as he turned around, grabbing another one of the green set from the shelf.

“Thirty four C, right?”

“I don’t know whether I should be impressed or grossed out that you were able to figure that out.”

“They don’t call me Very Special Agent DiNozzo for nothing.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to go try these on.” You scooped up the remaining sets, “not for your viewing pleasure! Occupy yourself.”

You weren’t surprised in the least when all of Tony’s recommendations were right and you were happy to be leaving with a variety of options. Returning from the dressing room you found him near the till looking through accessories and he shot you a cocky grin as you placed all of his choices down on the counter. You shuffled the shopping bags in your hand over to the other one,

“Can you hold this?” You asked, handing him your purse as you pulled Emily’s card from within it, passing it off to the cashier. Once the purchase was completed and the cashier was wrapping up the lingerie, she placed the card down on the counter and out of the corner of your eye you saw Tony making a move for it, managing to swipe it up before he could get to it.

“Hey!” You swatted the back of his head and he grimaced.

“Ow. That was worse than Gibbs.” He muttered.

“You fuck around and you’ll find out.” You returned but he was too busy on his phone to really pay attention.

You took your purse back from him, tossing it over your shoulder as you thanked the clerk and added the bag of lingerie to the others with your shopping and the two of you made your way back onto the street. You jumped when Tony’s fingers prodded at your side, digging into your ribs.

“C’mon… let me know something, please.” He batted his eyes at you, “I just helped you pick lingerie; I deserve to know something. Doctor? Artist? App developer? Congressman?”

“Nope, nope, nope and hard nope.” You replied with a huff and he groaned so you finally turned back to him, stalling in your steps, “what I will tell you, is that she most definitely outranks NCIS, so you can officially drop it.”

“Ohoho… a new lady friend…” It was his turn to slow in his tracks, eyes lingering in the window of the next shop, “you need any special accessories for that?”

“Tony you’re insane if you think I’m taking you into a sex toy store.”

“Meh, doesn’t really matter since you’ve already covered that step.” He grinned and your brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Swiped your phone and went through your emails.” With a laugh he tossed the device back to you as you let out a gasp, “peach flavoured lube, nice. Nipple clamps? Kinky, didn’t realize you were into that kinda pain.” That earned him a hard punch on the arm, “but that double sided dildo with vibration? Now that sounds like a real party.”

“Anothony DiNozzo!” You scolded and he let out a small whine of a scoff, gesturing toward the sex store.

“I’m the perfect person to give sex toy recommendations, c’mon.” He protested and you sighed.

“Tony. You are a straight man. What could you possibly known about sex toys for me to use with another woman?”

“One of those wand things, Hibachi?”

“That’s Japanese barbecue, but nice try.”

“The wands!”

“You’re going for Hitachi.”

“Close enough!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands, “the big one’s better but I think they sell smaller ones too, more portable.” He waggled his eyebrows at you and you sighed.

“Think? Tony, pull your head outta your ass. Any self respecting person with a clit already owns one of those.”

“Really?” He smirked at you and you did your best not to groan.

“I’ve got three, a mini pink, a mini green and the big one, which yes, is far superior. Can we go now?”

“Fine.” He groaned, feigning annoyance, “you dragging me to a nail appointment next?”

“No, I was gonna buy you a late lunch.”

“You were? Or is your mommy dearest gonna buy lunch.” He exaggerated the word, nearly moaning as he said it and you immediately grimaced.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

“Yup, that one felt wrong coming out. My bad, that’s on me.”

**

Emily turned down dessert service, asking for the cheque instead as she gave the server a soft smile, picking up her cocktail once again as she turned back to you. In turn, you finished your drink, placing the glass down on the table as you stood, your hand coming to squeeze at Emily’s thigh softly as your lips brushed against her cheek.

“Give me a five minute head start, I’ve got a surprise for you.” You scooped up your phone, shooting Emily a wink as you sauntered away from the table in the direction of the elevator.

Her eyes followed you through the entrance of the lounge, narrowing in on your ass as you pushed the elevator button and the sparks began to fly through her body. It hadn’t been a particularly long week, but it was very safe to say that you had been on her mind more often than not. Images of your naked body strewn across the bed floating into her brain, making her cheeks flush while she was torturously bored with paperwork. A too long tedious conference call lead to her zoning out, daydreaming all the things she wanted to do to you, the noises you made echoing through her mind. It was almost a given that night that she had a rather self soothing shower when she got home, pulling her laptop out when she finally crawled into bed to take a look at what fun things she could buy to occupy your time with in the future weekends.

Emily settled the bill, slowly draining the rest of her cocktail until she was certain she’d given you enough time to do whatever it was you had planned before she finally left the restaurant. The key card beeped against the lock and she stepped inside the suite, letting the door swing shut behind her before she made sure it was locked. She stepped out of her heels, dropping her purse on the side table in the entry way before rounding the bed into the suite, catching a glimpse of you laid out on the bed and her lips twitched up into a grin.

“Well that certainly is a welcome sight.”

“Yeah?” You asked, sitting up and shifting onto your knees, “you see something you like?”

“I see plenty I like.” She walked up to the foot of the bed as you crawled on your knees to greet her, your hands settling on her hips as one of hers curled around the back of your neck, pulling your lips to hers for a kiss.

Her tongue easily slipped into your mouth when you let out a satisfied groan, both of you relaxing into the kiss, lips dancing with grace against each other. Her hand slipped into your hair, pulling out the pins to let it fall loose around your shoulders, pulling at it lightly. When her teeth scraped against your lip you couldn’t help but moan, your hands drifting up her body as you slowly began to unbutton her shirt. She broke the kiss to help you untuck the fabric from her pants, letting it drop to the floor behind her before her fingers began to trace the lines of the teal lingerie set, floating over the gems decorating your chest.

“You like the crystals?” You asked, small grin on your lips and she nodded.

“They’re gorgeous.”

“They’re Swarovski.” You replied with a near smirk and she let out a huff of a laugh.

“You really went all in, hey?”

“Just wanted to make sure I looked nice and pretty for you.” You shrugged coyly and she chuckled, giving you a once over.

“Well you do.” She leant down, kissing you gently before her hands nudged at your shoulders, “you’re not the only one who brought something fun, lie back princess.”

“I noticed.” You replied, a gleam in your eye as you dropped into the pillows, an arm extending to the nightstand where you picked up a silk tie, “multifaceted, curious as to what your intentions are.”

“First…” Emily rounded the side of the bed, “I want to see what’s under that gorgeous bra.” She nodded at you and you sat up, hands flying behind you to unclip it, gently tossing it to the side, “good girl.” She plucked the fabric from your hands, picking up a longer one from the nightstand before kneeling on the bed. “Give me your hands.” She instructed and you held your hands out for her, wrists gently pressed together as she began to wind the fabric around them, “is this okay?”

“Absolutely.” You replied, looking up at her with darkening eyes as she tightened the silk.

“Do you have a word?”

“I’m fond of peach.”

“Perfect.” With a wicked grin she placed a gentle kiss on your wrist before guiding you to lie back with your arms over your head and she looped the shorter piece through your bonds, securing the other end to the golden bar of the headboard. “No surprises there.” She purred as she slid off the bed, letting out a satisfied hum as her eyes dragged over your body.

“Hm?” You raised a brow, watching as she moved back to a spare chair.

“Just how pretty you look tied up like that.” Emily tossed a grin over her shoulder, “but you are going to need to roll over for the second part of your treat.”

You nearly let out a whine when her hands came to her belt buckle, eager to be able to see both what was coming next and what she had under her clothes. Instead of risking it you decided to behave, rolling onto your stomach, your arms stretching over your head as you twisted it to the side, just barely able to see Emily under your arm. She had busied herself with getting rid of her clothing, a neat pile forming on the small bench next to her bag as she pulled out the strap, swiftly stepping into it and securing it around her hips. Your mouth was practically watering already and then she reached into her bag again, pulling out a crop with a cute little heart on the end and you had to hold back a moan.

Emily could see the way your body tensed, how your hips ground down into the bed as she reapproached it and a dark chuckle escaped her lips. Kneeling on the bed behind you her hand grasped your ankle, spreading your legs further apart and you did your best to arch your back, presenting yourself to her.

“Such obedience.” She murmured, letting the crop lightly trace up your inseam as you let out an airy breath.

Emily slowly trailed the crop up and down your legs, just the slightest hint of touch that she knew you were absolutely begging for in your head. She could see the way your body twitched whenever it got close to the heat between your legs and a wicked grin took over her lips. The crop finally came up over the swell of your ass, softly circling and tracing patterns on your skin and you finally let out a whine. Since this was the first time you’d actually made a louder noise, Emily figured this was the time to both give in and start to really tantalize you now. She raised the crop, swatting it down onto your ass and you let out a low moan.

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm.” You eagerly nodded into the pillows and the crop trailed across to the other cheek, repeating the circles before coming down harder on that side and your breath caught in your throat.

“Ohh…” Your fingers interlaced, squeezing tightly, “harder, please.”

“My little princess likes it rough.” Emily husked from behind you, “somehow I’m not that surprised.”

The crop came down on the same spot harder than the first before she flicked it over your other cheek, swatting just as hard, watching the way your body reacted, jolting at the touch before grinding your cunt down onto the bed. She brought the head of the crop between your legs, pushing the fabric of your panties into your pussy, rubbing the leather up and down your folds as you moaned, arching into the touch.

“Fuuckk…”

Emily chuckled darkly, bringing the crop up before hitting your ass with more force, smirking at the louder moans leaving your lips, the way you were pulling against your bonds, wishing your hands were free. The sounds of the spanks echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as your moans grew louder and longer, every time the crop was brought down onto your body it grew from a tingle to a pleasurable burn. Emily continued to trail the leather across your skin, occasionally her hand gently rubbing across the spot to sooth the burn, little praises and coos leaving her lips. The tingles each time she spanked you began to build, growing together with each hit of the crop until there was a fire building right under your skin, whimpers and whines leaving your lips as you buried your face into the pillows. Every swat of the crop made your entire body shiver and you were nearly about to start begging for more when she moved it back between your legs.

“You really like this, hmm?” She asked, pressing it against your cunt again, “making such a big wet spot on these nice panties.” She rubbed it harder against you, watching the way your wetness continued to soak the fabric, “you know, I’d take them off and stuff them in your mouth if you didn’t make such pretty noises…”

You groaned softly, your hips rocking back toward the touch, a little whimper leaving your throat when the crop nearly rubbed against your clit. Emily hummed softly, lifting the crop up before bringing it back down, this time onto your pussy and you couldn’t help the noise that escaped you.

“Oh fuucck…” Your head buried deeper into the pillows, your eyes scrunching shut as you felt your pussy fluttering around nothing, your clit nearly pulsing already, juices smearing across your underwear.

Emily’s hands grasped at your hips, flipping you onto your back watching as your legs instinctively fell open for her to see the growing wet spot on your panties. She brought the crop back to your cunt, rubbing it harder against you as you started to whine, resulting in another swat that brought a gasp from your lips.

“You like this even more, don’t you princess?” She asked with a grin and you nodded, “you want your pussy spanked too?” Spank. “Think you can come from just this?” Spank.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “more, please.”

“Always such nice manners.” She praised, her fingers slipping into the waistband of your thong, tugging the fabric down your legs and tossing it behind her. Her hands soothed up your legs, spreading them even further apart from each other as her thumbs dared to brush the edges of your cunt. “Such a pretty pussy. God you’re just fucking drenched already.”

Emily picked the crop back up, rubbing it through your slick folds, pressing harder as she brought it to your clit.

“Please.” You whimpered and she chuckled softly.

The first hit was on the gentle side, her eyes tracing up your naked body, watching your face for any sign of discomfort but all she found was a look of sheer pleasure. Your eyes fluttering shut, mouth falling open as breathy moans escaped them, it was all she needed to bring the crop down even harder the next time.

“Fuck.” Your body twitched off the bed, cunt pulsing as more juices dribbled out of it.

“That’s it princess.” Spank. “You’re doing so good for me.” Spank.

“Oh god…” Your hands clutched at the silk ties as your body shivered, pleasure building higher and higher with each time the crop hit your cunt.

“I know you’re close.” Spank. “Just a few more.” Spank. “Pussy’s so wet.” Spank. “Let go for me.” Spank.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your back arching off the bed, pulling against the restraints as your orgasm shot through you, pussy pulsating around nothing as your juices dripped onto the bedspread.

“That’s it.” Emily cooed, the crop gently rubbing against your cunt, smearing your wetness all around it and your thighs. “So pretty when you come for me.”

“Please…” you whimpered, “need you.”

“You want more?” She asked, gently spanking your pussy again and you whined.

“No, please! Need your cock.” You were absolutely begging, pussy fluttering, feeling so entirely empty. Despite the powerful orgasm you needed to be filled, stretched around Emily to finally feel completely satisfied.

“So needy tonight.” Emily teased, dropping the crop to the side as she climbed over you, running the tip of the toy through your folds, “this what you want?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded furiously, “please.”

“Alright.”

Emily didn’t hesitate, knowing you were absolutely drenched she sunk her cock fully into you until her hips met yours and you let out a very satisfied moan. She pulled back just enough to sneak her hand between your bodies, turning on the vibration on the base of the toy, just against her clit and a breathy sigh escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, pulling out until just the tip was left inside you and set a steady pace, fucking you thoroughly. Each thrust of her hips had your body twitching up off the bed, pulling against your restraints as you ached to touch her, pleasure shooting through your limbs.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “feels so good.”

Each thrust of her cock the head brushed right over your g-spot, pulling louder moans from you each time as your pussy began to clench down around her. You could feel your juices smearing across both of your bodies as she fucked deeper into you, picking up the pace as she knew you were getting close again.

“Are you going to come again for me angel?” She cooed, her hands gliding up your body to toy with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them in time with her thrusts.

“S-s’close.” You moaned, your hips rocking up off the bed to meet hers with each thrust.

Your hands tugged against the silk ties again, gasping when Emily’s lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking it into her mouth for her tongue to flick patterns across it. The double, nearly triple sensation if you counted the vibrations hitting your clit each time your bodies met was nearly too much, your pussy making almost more noise than the ones coming from your mouth. All you could do was whimper and whine, your head too fuzzy to get actual words to come out, the coil inside you got tighter and tighter until Emily’s teeth sunk into your chest and it burst through you.

“Fuck!”

Your body trembled, the tingles shooting all the way from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes as Emily continued to fuck you. Her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a low swear, now focused on chasing her own release. She sunk fully into you, pressing the vibrating part of the toy directly against her clit and it gave you the opportunity to roll your hips against hers, grinding the base harder onto her. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip as your eyes scrunched shut, another orgasm bursting through you from the sensation and Emily let out a soft cry.

“Oh god.” Her hand slipped between your bodies, switching the vibrations off before she sat up.

Emily panted slightly, attempting to catch her breath as she reached out, swiftly undoing the ties and your arms were finally free to drop to the bed. You let out a soft groan, flexing your hands before Emily caught them in hers, examining your wrists to make sure you hadn’t pulled too hard and hurt yourself. Once satisfied that you hadn’t she let them drop and shifted on her knees, slipping out of you and watching your juices dribble onto the bed.

“Mmm…” you sighed, your lips curving up into a grin.

“What?” She asked with a raised brow.

“That was hot.” You replied, “kinda wish you could come inside me though.”

“Well…” she leant over you, kissing you before nipping at your lower lip, “I’m sure that can be arranged for next time.”

_____________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sires-blog

[endereies]

ADDICTED TO YOU

Pairing: Chris x Reader

Contains: Sub!Chris (kinda), Drug-usage (be smart people), Blowjob, Hair pulling, don't like - don't read. Let me know if i missed anything<3

Requested?: no

Author's notes: This is my first time writing smut so I hope it's good loll

Word Count: 2975

I had been to many parties in my life, fuck, I hosted half of them. But I never did anything crazy. I only provided, sometimes that drove me crazy. People around me were constantly inhaling smoke and I could only sit back and watch as the small embers burn and lit up in the cherry, making their faces glow against the night.

I had never had the urge to smoke and watching everyone get high was always an experience, typically leading to me taking care of everyone and making sure no one ever went overboard.

I was stressed.

-

I had been forced by some random kids at my college to host another party, only as a gateway to sell drugs to other students who shared the same cravings. It was a constant I was forced to adapt to, whether I liked it or not.

I had the same few people come up to me and most of the time the conversations reached around the same bends.

Most.

Chris has always managed to drag me in to some sort of long conversation, it made me feel like I wasn’t just used as a gateway to safely get high. Even if he had tried to convince me one or twice…

-

“Cmon y/n, you have never even wondered what it is like?” I had tried to walk to my lessons a long time ago but Chris had caged me in his presence enough that I had given up ten minutes ago.

“Of course I have wondered, but I don’t care enough to go along with anything.” I roll my eyes at him and try to turn away but he grabs my wrists and twists my body back towards him again.

“We both know that isn’t true” I provide him with a lack of a response and I raise an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve seen you at those parties, your eyes trace the blunts every single time. It’s the one thing you pay attention to other than those people who beg for ‘secret spots’ in your house.

“The fuck do you know, you are always out your mind whenever I see you. Nate had to drag you out last time.” I cross my arms over my chest, hoping he will try and drop the subject soon.

“I had a new kind, ma. That ain’t fair…” He feigns a pout, not holding it for long without any giggles.

“Whatever, look. Just be at my place at seven. I’m hosting.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He leaves with that same stupid grin on his face.

-

The party had started an hour ago and I had landed myself in the gardens outside faster than I would’ve liked. My tie hung loosely around my neck and the top button of my shirt was undone. Already, someone had thrown up in front of me. Definitely the effects of previous substances but it was enough to dampen my mood and force me for some fresh air.

“Hey ma, nice outfit. Shame you chose outside as your runway.” I hear Chris’s voice from in front of me but I don’t bother enough to respond in the same manner as him.

“What.”

“You alright y/n?” He kneels down, his knees meeting to damp grass just so that he can see my face, full of mixed emotions.

“Some bitch nearly threw up on me, thankfully she didn’t but I can’t say the same to the houseplants.” I sigh and look away from him.

“Already?” My head nods in response.

“Well…Why are you out here then?” His voice seems gentler and calmer, noticing his normal attitude won’t get him anywhere.

“The smell was strong; the people are pissing me off and I have a headache from the shit music they are playing on repeat. But that’s nothing new…”

“Mind if I smoke?” He practically ignores the last sentences I give him and pulls out a poorly wrapped blunt that seems like it’s been stuffed into his pocket for a little bit too long.

“Whatever.”

He takes one of the garden chairs and drags it over the grass to sit close to me. As close as the seats would allow before the metal legs scrapped each other.

A small spark emits from an old red lighter before it glows with an orange flame. The light breeze shakes it and weakens the strength, making it have to stay alight longer before it managed to light the blunt. Chris holds the blunt between his lips, holding it there while putting the lighter in his pocket, inhaling weakly. It takes a few seconds before a cloud of smoke exits between Chris’s lips.

I didn’t mean to stare but the way the fire lights up his face in the dark was somewhat mesmerising. I could just be the awful night I was having but everything just seemed so much more appealing.

I suddenly grab the blunt from Chris’s hand and place it in between my own fingers and bring it to my lips and breath in. Big mistake.

I don’t even get a change to hold in the smoke before it exits my lungs harshly, scrapping my throat as it arises.

“Woah woah, y/n. Jesus are you okay?” His touch immediately burns into my back as he soothes it with his palm. “Take it easy…”

I can’t respond to him without producing weak coughs.

“If you really want to do it, I can show you?”

I’ve definitely had a shit day if I am really debating getting high. I don’t want to openly admit it so I nod my head slowly.

“Okay…I’ll show you how first, yeah?” I study his motions as he hollows out his cheeks slightly and allows more space to inhale, the ember’s light glows a little brighter when he breathes in. The blunt rests between his index and middle fingers and he draws it away from his mouth. Chris tilted his head away from mine and blows out the smoke into the cold air and I watch as it slowly disappears.

“Here.” His hand moves next to mine and I shakily grab the blunt.

Was I really doing this?

I bring it to my lips and exhale softly before placing it into my mouth.

“Try and relax and rest it just between your lips…” His voice trails off, putting his focus into adjusting my grip on the blunt.

“Like this?” My voice is meek as I try not to blow out the blunt.

“Better, ma. Now, inhale it slowly, once you feel a sting I want you to stop and hold it in.”

I try and take a long and deep breathe but the stinging comes sooner than later. I manage to hold it in my lungs for a few seconds before I’m forced to exhale quickly out of my nose with a slight cough. I shut my eyes as they start to water. Chris immediately takes the blunt from my fingers and I cough a little harsher now.

“There you go, not bad for your first time.” He smiles at me, taking the blunt between his own lips again while he waits for me to calm myself.

“That wasn’t as bad as the first time.” I shake my head as I cough one last time.

“This is a stronger one y/n, I’d rather you not take any huge amount of this, alright?” His tone isn’t as gentle and when he faces me his expression isn’t anything but serious.

“Yeah...sure.”

-

Chris and I had swapped between this blunt a few times and it had really started to hit me now, everything was dream-like. My vision lacked behind my brain and caused me to feel dizzy when I laughed too much or moved my head a little quickly. We kept on giggling to ourselves and playfully making jokes to one another.

“Fuck, I think I am feeling this now.” I smile pathetically at him, no longer being able to fully control my expressions.

“Yeah? Good. That’s when the good shit starts to happen, ma.” His eyes linger on mine as I take the blunt between my lips and take a deep inhale of the smoke. I watch his gaze fall to my lips even after the blunt is back in his hand again. When he looks back up a smirk is plastered on his face and I immediately try to compose myself.

Chris takes one final puff of smoke and put out the blunt, smashing it between the grass and the sole of his shoe. He looks over to me but I’m already staring at him.

“Everything okay?”

“You’re pretty.”

I don’t even think about the words I’m saying anymore to him, I’m too gone to care.

“Is that so?” He smiles sheepishly at my, gazing back down to my lips.

“Very much so. I’ve always noticed that.” A silence falls between us as we edge close to each other, his face only being a few inches away from mine.

I let out a shaky breath once I finally acknowledge the distance shortening between us.

“Do I make you nervous, y/n?”

The warmth of our breath mingled between us before our lips finally meet each other’s.

The gentle pressure was enough to make me lose my mind and send a shiver down my spine. Chris’s fingers wrapped around the edge of my jaw, pulling me slightly closer to him. His teeth graze my lower lips slightly and I open my mouth for him to gain better access. I feel him smile against me and the way his hand traced my arm had me intoxicated.

I slowly pull away from him, wanting to catch my breath and his gaze remains locked on my lips, slightly coated in his saliva. The fixation makes me instantly clench my thighs tightly together.

His palm rolls off my arm and places itself on to my hip, using his thumb to press small circles into my skin. He remains looking at me softly before placing his lips on mine again. I accept his touch almost instantly and I feel his hand that was on jaw snake around to the back of my neck, wanting to pull me closer.

He relaxed his body with the aid of the weed and sighed into the kiss. I laid my hands on to his thighs and slowly dragged them upwards. A deep sigh emits from him as my hands etch closer. He breaks the kiss and looks down to my palm, watching it with a dazed expression.

“Is this okay…?” I look down in the same direction as him and inch my hand so that I stop just below his dick.

He hums in response and nods his head eagerly, a tent clearly forming under his jeans.

Before I move my palm, he pulls my head towards me with his hand still on my neck and kisses me softly again. I use this to my advantage and I shift my hand so that I’m gently palming Chris through his clothing, but I don’t apply enough pressure for any major satisfaction. Even so, I earn a light whimper from Chris and it becomes harder to resist to apply more force.

“Please...don’t be a tease, ma.” His voice is gentle against my lips and I feel his warm breath on my skin, making me smile in to the kiss.

I was definitely being hit harshly with the effects of the weed, while I appreciated Chris’s appearance, I would never openly admit that. Let alone palm his dick, just after we kiss for the first time. I had always known that he was an attractive person and I often caught myself staring. And I bet he knew that too since he often caught me in a daydream while sheepishly smiling at him.

I find myself following his words and I break away from the kiss so that I can move from the chair to the wet grass beneath me.

His eyes look in to mine, practically begging me to touch him.

I keep my eyes on him while I brush my hands over his jeans and up towards his belt, slowly undoing it. I pull his jeans down past his waist and to his thighs.

I palm him again slowly and I see his head tilt backwards, making sure that I apply more pressure this time. I play with the waistband of his boxers and slowly pull them down to meet his jeans.

I stare at his dick and reality set in for a moment. Being high was mixing with my brain but at this point I was too far gone to care about that. It was something I would leave for future me to figure out.

I wasn’t going to overthink this and I just leant forward to kiss the tip of Chris’s dick and softly lick over it.

“Fuck…” His words fall softly from his lips in a whisper.

I continue to softly kiss the tip before licking a stripe down from his base to his tip and taking him in my mouth. A faint groan emits from Chris and his back arches slightly from the stimulation. He let his legs fall more to the sides which allowed me to etch closer. My mouth withdrawals from his cock and I smile at the hitched breath he takes from the loss of contact.

I swirl my tongue around my mouth whilst I gather saliva which drips off my tongue and falls on to the tip of his dick. It slowly flows down the side and I push the remaining amount down with my palm. My eyes fixate on Chris’s face and I drag my hand up and down his dick, torturingly slow. Looking back down towards me, Chris moans softly at the sound of my saliva over his skin, the weed making this experience more heightened for the both of us.

“Does this feel good Chris?” I mumble quietly against the skin of his thigh that I nip and kiss at.

“Fuck yeah, don’t stop…” He moans through his words breathlessly, the tone of my voice making his hips jerk into my palms.

I look back down to his dick and lean in so that my face is directly in front of his dick, making sure he keeps his eyes on me like a dog playing fetch. Groans echo through my ears once I take him in my mouth, letting my tongue glide across his skin. I take a few inches into my mouth and slowly bob my head up and down, making sure that I work with the rest in my hand.

One of his hands grips on to the sides of the chair, his knuckles turning white as he tries to remain still while the other hand finds its way to the back of my head. His fingers brush over my hair, almost reassuring me before he grabs a fistful into a make-shift ponytail.

After working around his tip for a few moments, something in me snaps and I deepthroat him, catching us both off guard. His hips rut towards my mouth as his dick hits the back of my throat and I gag slightly at the sensation.

A whine leaves Chris’s throat when I remove my mouth from him.

“You okay baby?” The name falls so casually from his lips and it grabs my attention quickly. “You don’t have t- fuck”

I draw out a long moan as I take his deep into my throat once again, getting past the constant need to gag. When I do gag, I try and not pull off completely and work around the tip again.

Chris decides that isn’t enough and uses the strands of hair he gathered to push my head back down onto his cock. Saliva drips from the corners of my mouth and I collect in my palm repeatedly, spreading it to the places my mouth can’t reach.

My eyes look back up to him, his face twisted in pleasure.

“If you keep looking at me l-like that I’m gonna c-cum, ma.” I hum in approval, sending vibrations down his dick. His grip on my hair tightens and pulls slightly whenever his hips jerk upwards.

I feel his dick twitch slightly in my mouth, signalling that he was close, so I slow down to tease him a little while longer.

“y/n…I’m close.” He moans breathlessly and pants through his words.

When he says this, I take him deep in my mouth, doing my best to supress my gags. He twitches again and his hips jerk up to hit the back of my throat. His grip on my hair tightens and he holds me in place.

“fuck..” He groans as he cums down my throat. I ignore the tears that prick at my eyes and swallow it all. My mouth leaves his dick but my hand remains pumping it to ride out his high. Small whimpers leave his lips once it starts to become too much and I look up at him, his face slightly fucked out.

“Was that okay?” I murmur quietly trying to break the silence.

“Ma, that was perfect, you looked so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” His words land heavily through his breaths but I smile up at him as he adjusts himself.

Chris is a little uneasy on his feet once his orgasm diminishes, the effects of weed only slightly weaker now. He pulls his boxers and jeans back up and looks me in the eyes as I follow suit and stand next to him. Fingers wrap around under my chin and pull me towards Chris for another kiss, allowing him to taste himself.

“I should get high with you more often, Chris” I speak against his lips making him pull back.

“Yeah? You’d be a fool to think this wasn’t happening again.”

© ENDEREIES 2024

@melliflws @axolotllover225 @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @sturniolosmind @worldlxvlys @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @mayhem-72 @luverboychris

[evieismol]

Big Bend - Chapter Eight

Word count: 938

Cw: cursing

Previous

Easton's pov

“Hey! So, I hear we’re finally on the same planet again!” Larissa said, her familiar face appearing on my phone screen. It had been years since I’d seen the human I’d initially met when she and her friends had become stranded on Aphirial in person, but we’d kept in touch with regular video calls and text messages. 

 I laughed. “We are!”

“How are you liking Earth? And how is it being the one that’s the wrong size this time?” She asked, giving me a wry smile at the last part. 

“Well, the days are definitely a lot shorter here,” I said. “I feel like as soon as I fall asleep it’s time to get up. I guess it was the opposite for you guys - waiting for me to wake up or get back from work or whatever must have felt like it was taking forever.”

“Yeah, it was weird. At least we got to sleep in pretty much always, though, so we might have won on that front.” 

“I wish that was the case for me,” I murmured, then shook my head, forcing myself to brighten my tone. “It’s been good overall though! The people here are really nice too.” 

“That’s good! Made new friends to replace us yet?” Larissa joked. 

“As if,” I said. “Speaking of which, is Kyle around?” 

Larissa shook her head. “He got called into work today. I know, lame.”

Larissa and Kyle had become roommates when they’d returned to Earth, settling in the coastal city of Los Angeles. The third human who’d been stranded, Ruby, had also kept closely in touch with them, though her job as a travelling nurse meant that catch ups were more frequently than not over facetime. Much like ours - I hadn’t seen any of the three humans in person since they’d left Aphiria. 

“Damn. Well, tell him I said hi!” I said. 

“I will! So, what’re your coworkers like?”

 “They really are all nice. My supervisor, John, is very, like, upbeat. I swear he must live off of coffee or something. I’m pretty sure one of them is kind of terrified of me. Or dislikes me. Or maybe both, I’m not really sure, but I’ve been trying to be like, extra friendly? I mean, not that I blame him, given the whole giant thing.

Uh, I’m not the only non human working here though. One of my other coworkers - Angie, she’s cool - convinced her best friend Penelope to come work out here, and she’s a vampire.”

“A vampire, that’s neat,” Larissa said. “I haven’t actually met very many.”

“She seems pretty chill. She’s like, very extroverted. Oh, and her roommate Zoey seems cool too.” I wasn’t totally sure why I felt like I needed to sound casual mentioning Zoey, or why I was hit with the immediate urge to talk more about Zoey. Regardless, I found myself recounting Zoey and I’s first meeting, rambling about how she’d seemed remarkably unconcerned to run into a giant in the middle of the night. Surprised, but not actually scared, even once I’d let slip that I was from Aphiria.

That then turned into rambling about how cool her outfits also were - a colorful mix of crochet, tie dye, and chunky jewelry when she wasn’t at work. And then that turned into mentioning how radiant her smile was, and it was at about that time that I noticed the knowing look on Larissa's face. I faltered. 

“Uh, yeah. So she's nice. Like everyone else. They're all nice.” 

“Sounds like you might think she's a little bit nicer than everyone else?” Larissa asked teasingly. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” I was not good at playing dumb. 

“Sure,” Larissa said, drawing the word out. “I can't wait to tell Kyle and Ruby that you have a crush.” She said the last part of her sentence in a sing-songy tone. 

“I do not! Can't I just appreciate someone's fashion sense?” 

“And ‘radiant smile’?”

I felt like face palming. 

Why did I say that? 

“Objectively speaking.” I tried again. “She just has a nice smile.” 

“Uh huh. I think I got like, a sentence about everyone else there and an entire monologue about her, so you're not fooling anyone.” 

“I don't have-I'm not interested-I don't like her like that. Besides, she's-she's a human.” I stammered. 

“What, us humans aren't good enough for you?” 

"No! No, I didn't mean it like that, I fully think humans are equal to aphirials-of course-that just came out wrong." If I'd felt flustered before, it was now a thousand times worse. 

"Hm, I dunno, you said that awfully fast," Larissa teased. 

"I just meant like - I don't have a crush on her-" I ignored the look Larissa gave me and continued, "but even if I did, there'd be like...a kind of concerning power imbalance? If I did like a human, which I don't, I wouldn't want them to feel pressured into anything or something because I'm, well," I gestured at myself.

"Half the humans I meet - actually, probably more like 70% of the humans I meet, are at least a little scared of me already. And what if I told a human that I theoretically had a crush on that I felt that way and then they didn't feel the same way but felt like they couldn't say that and-and there's just a lot of potential problems there," I ended lamely. 

Larissa and I were both silent for a moment. 

"...You've put a lot of thought into the subject for someone who doesn't have a crush on a human," Larissa said finally. 

I sighed. 

Fuck.

[kingdumkum]

WHERE THE RIVER MEETS THE SEA

this has been a long, long time coming. hopefully it’ll live up to the obscenely high expectations i’ve set. agree or disagree, please reblog/comment/send an anon with your thoughts--but make sure you read the RULES of interaction first.

summary: your date stood you up… again. Don’t worry, though, Baji will be there to pick up the pieces, like he always is. The only question… what will you do when you find out his secret? wc: 15k (we don't talk about it)

cw: virgin fem afab!reader x virgin!Baji, a lil itty bitty baby bit of blood, somewhat public (initially), bc why not, marking, creampie, Confessions galore, somewhat gendered pet names (princess, babe, sweetheart), actually gendered pet names (one handful of "good girl," "pretty girl," and "my girl"), subtle yandere themes but not to the extent a DC label is needed—correct me if I’m wrong though—be nice if I missed something, this is my first time :) way too many words but c’est la vie such is the way.

dedication: Storm, my friend, your support and advice has made me a better writer. Without you, this would probably still be sitting in my drafts, collecting dust and every hateful thought I’ve ever had about my writing. Thank you for being you and all of your aid in getting this to where it is. 💛

Your coffee’s cold when you give up. Well—second coffee, to be precise; the first you’d ordered after Tadashi said he was a few minutes away. That one had grown cold too, but the barista, taking pity, had given you a piping hot refill—for free.

It feels like an insult when she offers you a third.

An hour and a half has passed since Tadashi said he’d be there, and… well, you were still kinda hoping he might show up. But when the manager approaches with a tight-lipped smile, not-so-kindly pointing at their hours plastered ever so neatly on the glass door and indicating they’re just a few minutes to closing, your hope ebbs entirely.

The heat in your cheeks could’ve rewarmed your cup—but not one to cause a scene, you offer a tight-lip smile of your own and apologize. You don’t explain that you were waiting for someone; the pitying look in the barista’s eye as she mouths sorry and slides the unwanted third cup your way says they know.

You slip into the bathroom, wondering how in the world you could be so stupid— again. This was your third first date in three months… and the third time in three months that you’ve been stood up. 

It hurts more when you check your phone. Two new messages from Emma, asking how it’s going and if you want to grab dinner to dish; one from Draken, asking if you can bring back a vanilla frappe and a triple dark roast espresso with two pumps of caramel; one from Baji, saying he might be late to pick you up, but he’d be there, and could you get him an order of whatever you’re having?

Nothing from Tadashi.

You don’t respond, instead letting your phone rest against the mirror while you stare at your reflection and try, desperately, to convince yourself it isn’t your fault.

Everything had been going great—you thought. You thought he really liked you, that he was excited to get to know you, and that this one, this one for sure would show up. You made jokes that he found funny, you were just the right amount of flirty, and you knew—thought—hoped—the picture you’d sent of your outfit (a simple sundress that accentuated your best features and wedges that made your legs seem endless) was enticing enough that he’d want to see it in person.

But here you are. Crying in the bathroom of a cafe you’ll never be able to return to, wondering how you’re going to explain to your friends that you got stood up.

Again.

Your phone starts to buzz. With a deep breath, you wipe off your dripping mascara. You force yourself to smile at the hollow reflection staring back at you, then answer with an overly-cheerful, “what’s up?”

“Kenny’s worried.” Baji’s familiar drawl echos, making the space seem even smaller. “I said he was being too overprotective, but—well, you know how he is. Said it’s his duty or some shit to make sure you’re okay. He tried to come down here himself, wanted to meet the guy trying to woo you—can you believe that? He actually said woo—“

“What do you want?” you interrupt. Too harsh, you realize when Baji doesn’t answer. “It’s just—I’m kinda in the middle of something, you know?” 

Baji takes a moment, then forces a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, the little princess’s got a date, we know. God, they wouldn’t let it go. You should be thanking me, ya know, I’m the only reason they’re not all crashing—”

“Baji.”

The line falls quiet. Then, softly, “where are you, y/n?”

You frown and start searching for your mascara. “At the coffee shop. Why, where are you?”

Another pause. This one heavier. With the phone tucked to one ear, you slowly swipe the wand over your lashes. It’s clumpier than you usually like, but it’s better than nothing—

“I’m outside.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoes. You mouth another fuck, heart plummeting, then start reapplying your mascara. More carefully, now that you’re out of time. “I, uh—I’ve been here. A while.”

“Oh… yeah?” you question, teeth starting to grind. “How long’s a while?”

Baji clears his throat. “Long enough. You gonna come out, or are ya gonna make me come in?”

Mascara gets tossed in your purse, gloss comes out. “You’re not exactly welcome in the ladies room, Baji.”

You can picture the dangerous curl in his smile when he replies, “not without an invitation, babe—why, you asking?”

Your laugh isn’t completely real, but not unnatural, either. You hover the gloss over your lips, and for a moment, you imagine what it’d be like. To sneak someone into the bathroom, kissing until your lips start to bruise, his hands playing with the hem of your dress, his lips marking your skin, his voice whispering your name…

You shake the thought away. There’s no point in getting your heart broken twice in one day.

“Three’s a bit of a crowd for a single stall,” you deflect. “Be out in a minute.”

Baji hums. Your gloss feels too thick, but you don’t take it off. You fluff your hair again, placing it the way you like, turning your necklace so the clasp faces the right way, lips smacking together once, twice, three times—

By the time you run out of things to do, you think you’re ready. You pick up your purse and give yourself a final once-over. Pretty, you think. Doesn’t look like you spent the last seven minutes sobbing in a public restroom.

When you exit, Baji’s still on the line, but he doesn’t hang up. You know, because the teasing, “well shit, babe, if I had known you’d worn that, I would’ve come two hours ago,” echoes; once from your phone, and the other from the man himself, standing right in front of you.

You laugh, and this one isn’t forced at all.

Baji’s smile gleams in the evening sun. A low wolf-whistle causes your face to warm pleasantly—the way it should have, when you met Tadashi. You take Baji’s extended hand, not flinching when his callouses rub against your soft palms. 

You’re used to their roughness. Much like the others, Baji’s always been a hands-on friend (and fighter), so over the years, you’ve gotten used to the various bumps, cuts, and jagged edges, to the extent that the only hands that’ve ever felt comfortable have been those rough ones, soft only for you. 

Baji spins you, over-exaggerating the way he checks you out. “Sweetheart, you’re going to stop traffic looking like that.”

“Oh, please,” you deny, but your smile hasn’t been this genuine all day. “Laying it on a little thick, Baj.”

“Only the realest truth for the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” is his sly reply, accompanied by a slyer wink. It’s his usual charm, but you’re oblivious to his sincerity, the way you always are. Baji pulls you into a tight hug and closes his eyes, and for a moment, he allows himself to pretend this was your intention all along; to wind up in his arms, with his compliments, by his side—the way it always seems to go after every failed date.

But you never say as much, and you always seem so genuinely excited for the next one that he’s never going to ask. Instead, he’ll take these moments. The ones where you turn to him for comfort, where he gets to hold you, your knight-in-shining-armor, and do all that he can to make everything better.

He’s so close that you almost miss his muffled whisper of, “fucking—stupid bastard. Doesn’t know what he’s missed.”

Your smile slips. Your thumb rubs against the back of his knuckles, familiarly cracked with scabs that never seem to heal. These are fresh, though; you can tell by how his hand darts to the back of his neck, preventing you from looking too closely. 

“Been up to no good?” you question with a raised brow.

“‘Course I have,” he responds easily, “you’ve been busy.”

Baji won’t meet your gaze. ‘If only you knew,’ he thinks—but he’ll never say it. Not that. Not to you. He shrugs off his black leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, fingertips lingering as he straightens the collar. His dark eyes flick to yours, a coy smirk almost hiding his guilt as he hopes beyond all hope you don’t see through him.

You almost do.

Not enough to call him out on it, though, so instead, you roll your eyes—but you can’t deny how this—him—is making everything better. He picks up the helmet he only brings when he’s driving you and puts it on for you, visor up so he can brush the hair out of your eyes. Baji offers a comforting smile, then juts his chin to his bike. “Wanna ride?”

The answer, of course, is yes; for him, it will always be yes.

Silently, you climb on and wrap your hands around him, chin tucking into his shoulder as if you were made to be there. He revs and pulls off, seamlessly weaving in and out of traffic. Your eyes close. The wind whips in your hair, and the familiar scent of nicotine, mint, and Baji’s crisp aftershave envelopes you. For a moment, you feel like everything’ll be okay. Your heart might hurt now, but after an evening with him, it’ll all be okay.

That’s the power of Keisuke Baji, though; the sense of embarking on your greatest adventure but feeling like being home, all at once.

It’s nearly sunset when he stops. Pulls up to the river, kicks the bike stand, then grabs your waist to lift you off the seat.

“I can do that,” you say, even as you let him lift you.

“More fun when I do,” he replies with an easy grin. Your feet hit the ground, but Baji keeps one hand around your waist. He takes off the helmet with the other and laughs when your hair flops out. Hurriedly you go to smooth it, but Baji catches your wrist after setting the helmet down. “You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

He cages you between the bike and his hips with just a few inches of space—and suddenly, your heart starts to race. When did he get this close? How hadn’t you noticed the way his leg slid between yours? Why isn’t he taking his hand away? Why can’t you breathe?

Baji’s dark eyes dart between yours, then down to your lips, and for a second, for a split second, you think he’s about to kiss you—

“Not like anything can make it better now,” he smirks, and if it weren’t for how his fingers were locked in yours, you would’ve slapped him.

“Asshole.” 

Baji laughs, and you swear the moon shines a little brighter. You’re grateful that he turns to check out the area before he can see just how much of an impact his laugh has on you—though you don’t doubt that he knows. He’s Baji, after all, and you’re not blind (or deaf). He’s handsome, witty, flirty with anything that moves—and that laugh of his could bring even the tides to a standstill.

“Coast’s clear,” he says, looking back at you, a lazy smirk curling his features. It shouldn’t be a surprise, hardly any ever comes this far south of the city—but a few weeks ago, you’d accidentally stumbled upon a couple who were… not expecting company, to put it delicately, and ever since, Baji had been extra cautious to make sure it was just the two of you before getting settled.

He takes a few steps backwards, leading you to your spot; a grassy knoll that overlooks the river as it feeds into the darkened sea. The moon slowly rises over rolling waves while the sun, more a memory, sets over the river’s bend. It’s a secret, sacred place for the two of you, where heartache and daydreams don’t exist; only the moon, the tides, and each other.

Your stomach flips but you can’t tell why; this is exactly what happens every time you come here, from the way he helps you off the bike to how he stops you from picking at your appearance. The only difference is the way his hand is still wrapped in yours. 

You wonder if Tadashi’s would have been this warm. 

But Tadashi isn’t here—Baji is, and it’s Baji’s warm hands that always make things better. So you let him keep his hand in yours, even though you’re not sure you should, and you let him gently tug you along when you don’t move fast enough. Let him take his time in taking his jacket back, in spreading it on the grass before waiting for you to sit. You even let him settle next to you, instinctively leaning into the familiar comfort of his body and for a minute, you wonder how you ever could’ve wanted your day to end different.

Then Baji meets your gaze, smiles that sweet, genuinely kind half smile that he only shares with you, and you remember: Baji is your friend—and no matter how many heartaches he heals, that’s all he’ll ever be.

You can’t remember when things got so complicated.

When it was just you and Kenny, you’d sneak up to the roof of the brothel and watch the sun dip behind the buildings and talk about how one day, you’d get a house that was that color pink, and it’d be on the far side of Japan where you could watch the sunset from your porch and life would be good. The sunset was the only dream you’d ever need, and it would be good.

Then Mikey started coming. More often than not he’d fall asleep before the sun did, and on the days he didn’t—the roof felt too… small. The dreams, too… little. They evolved, from a porch where you could watch the sunset to a skyline that never sleeps.

Dreams change, and that’s okay… but a part of you aches for the time when the sunset felt like enough—when the family you had, the brothers you’d found and the friends you’d made—was enough. You still had the sunset, but rarely. More often than not, you were by yourself up there, or stuck to Kenny’s side somewhere out there, or brushing against Baji’s shoulder down here.

So these days, you prefer to watch the moon rise. There’s more comfort in a light to guide you through the night, rather than watching your dreams disappear with the day.

And you do, the way you do every time you’re stood up or don’t feel—enough. You sit beside Baji with the full moon crawling towards you, staring at the conjunction of the river and the sea, and focus on how you’re going to get through this.

Baji cut his hair since the last date—the last time you’d been stood up, you correct. Still long, but now only to the edge of his jaw, not mid-back like you were used to. The light is bright behind him, bringing out the warm undertones in his onyx hair. You can make out the scab on his cheek from a bar fight a few weeks ago; the scar on his nose from when Mikey split it the first time they fought; the tender bruise along his jaw that looks too new to have told you the story yet.

Instinctively, you reach for it… then chicken out, instead teasing the edge of his hair. You’re left wondering if an angel’s wings would be as soft.

Baji glances at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t like it?”

“What? I didn’t say that.” Your hand falls back to your lap, eyes quick to follow. The light behind him is too bright—too blinding. Too much like a halo. It’s impossible to hide the truth from an angel, and you know you don’t have the right words to convey just how beautiful you find him. “Just… gonna take some getting used to. I don’t think you’ve ever had it this short.”

He scoffs. “Maybe at birth.”

The idea of baby Baji flashes through your mind; sweet, chubby cheeks, little fists flailing at the world. A tuft of hair, dark as his and long already, but when he opens his eyes, they’re yours—

“Why’d you cut it?” your voice is steadier than you expect. It does nothing to change your thoughts, especially when Baji’s slender fingers start pulling at grass, just the way a baby grasps what's in front of him.

He stares straight ahead, letting one hand splay by your lower back as he watches the green blades dance in the wind. “Figured it was time for a change.”

You hmm in acknowledgement, brain too traitorous to come up with anything other than, ‘I bet you were a cute baby’ or ‘you look handsome either way’ or, worst of all, ‘why would you ever want to change?’

He probably meant nothing by it. Baji’s as flexible as they come; sets his own hours at the shop, varies what time he wakes or goes to bed, never eats the same thing too many times in a row… there’s not much permanency in his life as it is, so it sticks with you that he still wants something different.

If he thinks you’re being weird, he doesn’t say so. He waits for you to speak, like always, and like always, you find yourself loving him a little more for it. Baji’s so—quick; to judge, to speak, to fight… but in these moments, when it’s the two of you and the moon and no one else, he’s not. He’s slow; slow to speak, slow to touch, slow to pull away…

Slow to make you wonder why you keep wasting time with boys who don’t deserve it when he might be enough.

The silence becomes too much; too easy to drown in. Too tempting to fill with all the wrong things.

“What happened to your jaw?” is the best you come up with.

It’s no surprise when he answers, “got into a fight,” but how he says it… how he immediately ducks his head and covers the darkening bruise with a broad palm, as if he’d forgotten all about it and wished you would, too… that makes you pause.

One tenet of your relationship is that you don’t lie to each other. There are often times you wish he would, like when Chifuyu teases him about the pretty girl at the pet shop who came back and asked for the number of the flirty hunk who sold her a dog collar and Baji admits she was pretty cute and he’ll take her to drinks tomorrow night, or when Kazutora reminds Baji that he promised to go on a double date with the twins they met clubbing so no, he can’t take a look at that leaky pipe in your bathroom—but you’d never say that. Not when he could, so easily, call you out for keeping your own.

So when he goes out of his way to not have to tell you the truth, you know better than to push.

“Did it hurt?”

Baji looks to you with a cocky smile. “You should see the other guy.” You snort. Baji knocks his shoulder into yours. “I’m good, really. Just… had some business, s’all.”

It’s supposed to be comforting, but it’s not. It only flares your curiosity… and honestly? Your annoyance. “I hadn’t realized a pet shop needed such security.”

Baji barks out a laugh. “I mean, you’ve seen how crazy some people get about their pets, ‘specially when they think Dr. Google is a better resource than Chifuyu’s degree… but nah, this was… off the books.” He catches your inquisitive gaze and offers a smile, but it’s more like a grimace in the lowlight. His hand creeps closer, fingers pressing into your back, and for a moment, you’re willing to let it go. He gently grazes the middle of your spine. “It’s done, alright? Finished. Won’t happen again.”

You know he’s lying because he holds you close, the way he only does when he thinks you’re about to leave.

But you don’t leave; you never leave. You just give him a withering glare you know he can’t see, then turn back to the ocean.

You hate this feeling. The one where the world becomes unsteady, and everything you’d been trying to keep buried since you were thirteen sneaks up on you. That horrid, awful, destructive fascination and jealousy and yearning that’s plagued you since Baji first bragged about stealing a kiss from the pretty girl that lived three floors above him and only gets worse every time he mentions someone new.

Going on dates was supposed to squash this. Meeting a nice guy, having a good time, and getting a kiss or two of your own was supposed to end this. This—obsession—you’ve had since the first time Baji said he hopes that one day, you meet the right guy and you accidentally thought, ‘maybe it’s you.’ Because at the end of the day, he’s the one who’s there. Not Tadashi, who couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Not Draken, who recently started putting Emma above all else (even you). It’s been Baji, your Baji, whose mere existence makes everything better, that’s been the last one standing.

You can’t ruin that. You can’t risk pushing away the only companion who still puts you first for something you’re positive you can find somewhere else.

At least, that’s what you have to tell yourself, as yet another date fails and Baji is here, again, picking up the pieces and making you feel more whole than when the day started.

The sky is nearly dark when you finally ask the question that’s been on your mind since the barista gave you that pity cup—the one that’s probably still sitting in the bathroom, the last witness to your heartbreak. Just as alone and unwanted as you. 

“What’s… wrong with me?”

Baji’s sharp. He alway has been, from the stern angle of his nose to the feral way his teeth carve like a predator’s. He watches everything—the road, the fighters, you—with a scrutiny that’s often clouded behind cheshire grins and snide quips.

But there’s nothing sharp about him tonight; only soft. Soft hands that gently grab your chin and force you to look at him. Soft breathes as he pulls you close. Soft words as he makes sure you hear him whisper, “nothing.” 

Baji’s eyes, dark and teeming with something you can’t place, move from one eye to the other; to the fingers on your cheek; to your tongue, wetting your lips. He leans in, forehead resting against yours as his hand slides back, gripping your hair like you're his lifeline and not the other way around, and you’re back to thinking okay, this is it, he’s going to kiss me, he’s finally going to kiss me—

But all he does is repeat, “absolutely—fuckin’ nothing, alright? And—‘n fuck whoever makes you feel otherwise,” before resuming his seat like nothing happened.

You let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. It’s stale and hot and full of fury, your fury, and suddenly, you can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck you, Keisuke.”

“What?” Baji scrambles for your arm as you abruptly stand, too furious to even look at him. You rip away but don’t stop, trying to will the stupidness of—whatever this is—to go away, to release you so you can go back to feeling better and right and whole. “Wait—come on, I didn’t—what did I say? Did I do something? Where the hell are you going?”

“Forget it!” you snap. His every question—the fact he wants to make it right even though he’s the reason it hurts—just makes it worse. “Just—leave it alone, alright? It obviously doesn’t matter—” 

This time when he grabs your arm, he doesn’t let you leave. He pulls you in to him, nearly crashing you into his chest as he holds you in place.

“Damnit, y/n, what the hell? What did—why are you being like this?” For the first time tonight, he meets your eyes without falter. He tucks a hand under your chin, all but pries your eyes open himself to search for what you're hiding. You try shrugging out of his iron grip, but he’s too strong. “What did I do?”

“Nothing—” You’re horrified at the way your voice cracks. “Fucking—nothing, Baji, you did nothing—“

“Then why’re you so fucking mad, hunh? Why’re you acting like I’m the bad guy here?” His fingers tighten. It would’ve hurt, if you weren’t so angry. “I’m not the asshole who stood ya up—I’m not the one who’s been dickin’ everyone around, pretending like everything’s fine when I know, Draken knows—even fuckin’—Pah-chin—can tell that something’s wrong—“

“You’re calling me an asshole?” you gasp incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“Yes!” he retorts hotly—then, upon realizing how horribly angry you’re growing, quickly backtracks, “I mean—no! Actually, no, you know what, I did mean yeah, because guess what, princess? You are acting like an ass! You’ve got—all these people who wanna be here for you, I want to be here for you, and all you’re doing is getting mad at me for it—”

“What do you want me to say, Baji?” It’s useless, trying to get free, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. “That I’m—heartbroken—at being stood up—again? That I’m done with dating, that I’m giving up, that everyone fucking sucks but I must suck worse—”

“They don’t deserve you—”

“Like hell!” Your tone is scalding. It must burn him just as bad, because a single lapse in his grip lets you rip your arm away. “That’s the whole goddamn point of dating, jackass, to figure out who’s worth what—and all this has shown is that I’m not worth it, to anyone.” You slam your hands against his chest, tears stinging your lash line. If you weren’t so angry, you might not have missed how his face falters when you push him away. “And you just—sitting there, and—and holding me like that, and—and telling me that I’m not the problem when I’m the only common denominator—you’re such a fucking liar—”

“You think it’s any easier for me?” he’s quick to yell, frustration making him bare his teeth like fangs. Anyone else would’ve cowered—but you stand your ground. Place two hands on his chest and shove, hard, forcing him back as he continues, “you think it’s any easier to see you gettin’ your hopes up, to freak out over what to text, what to wear, what to do—all for those fuckin’ dickweeds? Hunh? Guys who can’t even—spell your name right, or remember what your favorite flower is, or fucking—show up? You think it’s any fucking easier seeing you so goddamn upset over someone who doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone spend time with you–be with you? Because it’s not, sweetheart!”

The sweet pet name that usually makes your heart skip a beat only aggravates you further. Your hands go from shoving to slamming, open palms against the hard muscle of his chest—but he doesn’t even flinch. Just catches your wrists before you can do it again and stares, like you’ve started speaking in tongues. “Oh, poor Baji, must be hard, hunh, thinking no one’s good enough, thinking everyone’s so lucky as to have people throwing themselves at them left and right—but newsflash, Keisuke, not all of us are like you! Not all of us have the ability to pick whoever we want, some of us actually have to work at it—“

“Stop working on the wrong guys then!”

“You’ve never even met them, how would you know—“

“Because they let me stand in the way!”

The world stills. 

You can’t place why; why this feels like a sucker punch, why your heart is suddenly skipping beats–why you can’t tell if this hurts. Not until Baji’s grip tightens, then his eyes widen, and you have a sneaking suspicion you know where this is going—but still, you ask, “what?”

He doesn’t respond. He can’t.

He lets go of you, though every fiber in his being begs him to stay. He takes a step back, though his heart pleads for him to wrap you in his arms and hold you close and tell you the truth, about what he did, why he did it, why he can’t bring himself to regret it…

He has to turn his back to you, to stare at the waves crashing along the sand as he tries to process just how badly he’s fucked this up and if there’s any possibility for redemption. It’s too late to lie. Too late to try and salvage this.

He’s made his bed; it’s time to lie in it.

Baji sighs–or something close. Something choked, not quite a laugh but also not quite a sob. Something is stuck in him, and even with the ice in your veins, you piece it together. Somehow, this—the failed dates, the heartache, the loneliness—it's all his fault.

Still, you have to ask. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You try making the venom in your voice match that in your blood, but you can’t. Not when he looks so—defeated. He runs his hands through his hair, doing a miserable job of either pretending he can’t hear you or attempting to buy enough time to come up with a plausible lie—though you don’t need him to. Not when his actions say enough.

It’s your turn to reach for him. Your turn to grab his arm, to keep him in place. You want to hold on to your anger, but the way his hands are shaking makes it impossible.

You draw him close, voice gentle as you say his name. You reach for his cheek, keeping his hands still with one of yours, and you tilt his head; he lets you tilt his head so that he has no choice but to look at you. 

When your gazes meet, you wait.

“I had to,” he eventually says. His voice is steady, but his hands aren’t. His fingers wrap around your wrists tightly, as if he’s afraid you might try leaving—but your grip on him is equally tight. “They weren’t good for you. They were jerks, and they were only going to break your heart, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. I had to—I had to.”

“Had to… what?” He doesn’t answer, not until you prompt, “had to what, Baji?”

“Don’t—” he breathes. “Don’t… call me that.” His eyes close, and he leans into the palm on his cheek. For a moment, you pretend that he’s memorizing the feel of you, as if he’s scared to lose you—but that can’t be it. Keisuke Baji isn’t afraid of anything.

You’re not sure what’s more painful: the knots in your stomach or the hope in your heart. “Tell me what you did,” you muster up. “Keisuke, tell me what you did.”

When his eyes finally open, all of his anger is gone. In its place is something you’ve rarely seen, and even rarer directed at you: desperation.

“I stopped them.”

For a moment, all you hear is your own heart… then the waves of truth come crashing down.

“I—I found them, and I swear on my life, on your life—I only meant to talk to them, to figure out if—if they had good intentions, if they were gonna treat you right—but they all sucked, y/n, they were awful—going on and on about how they were—how they wanted to—to fuck you, just to say they could—or they weren’t—serious about how they felt and I couldn’t—I couldn’t let them do that, I couldn’t let them hurt you like that, so I… I hurt them first. Not—not much, just enough so they’d—get the idea. Leave you alone. Stay away from my girl—”

He cuts himself off, and for a moment, you’re frozen. You don’t know what to do, what to think—is this real? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Does he really mean it?

Baji’s voice cracks when he says your name.

“Y/n, listen—listen to me,” he pleads. His forehead presses against yours. Your cheeks grow wet, though you can’t tell if that’s because of you or him. “You are—the most amazing person in this whole freaking world. You get that? You’re—smart, and pretty, and so fucking funny and—and anyone who can’t see that is an idiot. And it fucking—kills me—that you’ve got it in your head that what these—stupid pricks think is the only thing that matters, because it’s not. It’s never mattered. The only thing—the only thing that has ever mattered… is you. Okay? You.”

Your throat closes. Your hands reach for his, catching only wrists as he cradles your face, trying to ground yourself in this moment. In all the things he says and all the things he doesn’t; in the silent, desperate dream that refused—refuses—to die, taking over you once more.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” His lips are so close, they brush your nose. “I’d say I regret it, but I don’t, because— you deserve better. You deserve the world, if you want, or—or the moon and all the stars, and—and unless they’d get it for you, they don’t deserve you. Okay? None of them deserved you.”

You’re just a hair away from kissing him, from caving to the impulses you thought were dead and gone and hopeless all these years, and the worst possible sentence sinks out: “you’re an idiot, Kei.”

Then you lean forward and kiss him.

In an instant—you feel whole. You feel right, in a way you haven’t since you decided you never had a chance with him; in a way you’ve been searching for in the words of all the others who’d let you down, who’d broken your heart and always, always, always led you back to moonrise with Baji, back home—

Baji jolts. He pulls away and stares at you with a wild mixture of shock and confusion. His fingers ghost his lips, only to draw back as he stares at them, then at you, then back at them, like he can’t quite comprehend this hand is attached to his body—like you were. Like you want to be, like you thought he wanted to be, like you thought he was asking you to be—

Your heart plummets as he just—stands, no witty quip or teasing remark at the ready. No lines to read between; no phrasing to draw false confessions from; nothing other than the stillness of the night, and the pounding of your heart.

“Wait—” you shrink as you realize just how hoarse a single stolen kiss has left you. “I thought—please, Kei—”

A flicker of… something dances in his eyes, and then—he watches you. Studies you, with the same scrutiny he holds before a fight or when picking apart a bike to see what parts are broke and what can be saved.

“Say it again.”

It’s your turn to blink; your turn to have wide eyes and parted lips, to study him like you’re not sure how to fix it. “I don’t—“

“My name,” he says, and your heart starts to leap. “Say my name, sweetheart.”

“I say your name all the time, Keisuke.” You’re barely above a whisper. Barely above the fear that this time, he’ll break your heart and there’ll be no one to pick up the pieces because—you ruined this.

“Not like that,” he breathes. You forget how to. “Say it like it means something. Like—you don’t hate me. Like—”

“Kei,” you interrupt, hands coming to cradle his cheeks as you read between the lines, “I forgive y—”

He doesn’t even let the final word form before his lips are on yours. Hard, aggressively melding like he’s worried you might change your mind and wants to milk every second out of this as he can—but you reciprocate just as desperately. Keisuke’s hands wrap around you, one gripping the base of your neck and the other resting on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly close, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth opens, teasing your lips apart as you trade air, fingers digging into your soft skin like it’s the last thing he’ll ever touch.

You pull away first, and that’s only because your lungs are aching—not that you mind. The pain helps make this feel real. 

For once, Keisuke’s grin doesn’t seem mocking. He moves a hand to cradle your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, sweetheart.”

“Not as long as I have,” you admit with a breathy laugh. Your hands lock around his neck, fingers playing with his hair, and you realize you’re smiling.

You kissed. Keisuke kissed you, you kissed him—everything makes sense. Everything is right, and with the moon and tides as your witness, everything is good again.

“Can I…” Keisuke starts, eyes flicking to your lips in an unspoken question. You finish his sentence with a kiss.

“You can always kiss me, Kei,” you say. “You don’t even have to ask.”

There’s the grin you recognize; the scheming, teasing grin that always makes your stomach flip in a way you thought meant he’s up to no good, but now realize as a sign you’d fallen for him long ago. 

“Oh, yeah?” he questions, brushing his lips against yours. “Only here? Or can I kiss… here?” He moves to the corner of your lips, then to the hollow of your cheek as he continues, “and… here? And maybe…”

He trails off, and he trails down, letting his lips drag against your cheek while his hand keeps you firmly in place, lips going done to your chin, down the column of your throat and back up. Your breathy yes would be pathetic—if it ever made it out. All that escapes is a breathy groan of displeasure when he stops, teasing lips hovering just above your own. “What’s that, babe? Want me t’stop?”

“You’re such an asshole.”

Your hands tangle in his hair, lips melding as your make-out turns heated. He slides his tongue along the seam of your lips, silently asking you to open—and you do. His hands curl around you, bringing you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Something digs into your leg. Something hard and unmistakable, and it leaves you grinning deeper than Kei.

You break away, laughing at his whine of protest and briefly glance down. Keisuke follows your eyes and is quick to splutter a nervous chuckle, hands dropping as he tries to step away with a short apology—though the way you catch his belt loops stops him. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t—I just—it’s your fault, y’know—“

“Shut up,” you giggle and drag him back. Now, you kiss him; once, twice, then a third before trailing your lips along the sharp ridge of his cheekbone, along his temple, to his ear. “How about you take me home, Kei?”

Keisuke’s whiplash nearly hurts you. His eyes, big and brown and wide, stare like you’ve grown an extra head. His hands shakily splay against your back, as if he wants to keep you close but he’s not sure he’s allowed to. His voice wavers slightly when he asks, “but I thought… aren’t… I mean, isn’t this… what you wanted?”

Slowly, you nod. Even slower, you pointedly look at the space between you, bridged only by the tent of his black pants. You smile at the sweet way a blush covers his cheeks, and risk slowly trailing your hand along his belt until your fingertips are hovering over that stupid, shiny, obnoxiously big belt buckle you always tease him for.

“I want you, Keisuke, and I want you to take me home.”

He doesn’t need more encouragement. 

Keisuke’s kisses grow fiercer. He devours you, never once breaking contact as his hands slide to find firm purchase on the back of your thighs. With ease, he lifts you atop his bike, setting you in front of him and stepping between your spread legs. The hem of your dress slides up with his calloused palms, collecting in a bunch then pooling down to protect your modesty as he finds two handfuls of ass. He gives a squeeze, eliciting a delighted gasp from you, then pulls back with a toothy smile.

“Then have me, sweetheart. Always been yours, anyways.” 

Your stomach twists, the way it always does when he looks at you like that, and you like it. It makes sense, it feels right—and you don’t have to pretend to justify why it makes your panties wet.

“Gotta—gotta get home—“ you try saying, but Keisuke’s hands have a mind of their own. They’re the only reason you’re still upright as he starts kissing along your neck, carefully grazing his sharp teeth but never once digging in. Your arms lop around him, digging into his scalp and shoulders as he finds this one spot that makes you moan, and you almost curse him for what that smile has done to you.

“Fuckin’—insane—if you think I'ma make it,” he mumbles into your skin, and you think you finally understand how some people can climax from someone’s voice alone.

You laugh and intend to push him away and demand that he do, that you have to, that you need to, because this—isn’t like you, you’re not one to get hot and heavy like this, certainly not in public—

But you can’t think straight. Not when Keisuke’s hands are kneading your ass, pinching and releasing like he can’t decide if he wants to hold on forever or explore somewhere new. Not when his teeth nibble your neck, and you shudder at the unbelievably primal sensation running through you.

Not when the unmistakable hardness of Keisuke’s boner finds home between your thighs, and he starts bucking his hips. It’s subtle, and he doesn’t tease you for the pathetic way you start whimpering. He focuses on continuing to explore the expanse of your otherwise untouched skin, while all you can do is revel in the way your high starts building.

You’ve been kissed before, on the lips and neck and once a little lower, but no one’s ever done this to you; pressed against your collarbone. Moved your neckline aside to suck on the fat of your breast. Left a mark that’ll last longer than a minute. For a moment, you wonder if you should tell him he’s the first, but when the zipper of his pants starts catching your clit, the only thing you’re able to do is moan his name.

Loudly.

Breathy and passionate and different than before, and he pauses. Lifts his head from your collarbone, a thin tendril of salvia keeping his lips still attached to the sensitive skin you know will bruise. He lets one hand trail up your side and cup your face, staring like this might be the last time he ever sees you, all while his hips continue to rut against you.

“Say it again,” he breathes, thumb catching your bottom lip. “Just—just like that.”

“Kei,” you repeat, giggling at the way he brightens and starts kissing you, “we need to go home—now.” For good measure, you boldly let your fingers slide to the edge of his belt buckle, in case he needs some more convincing. His free hand darts to yours, but he doesn’t stop you. He laces his fingers in yours and guides you, letting you palm at his thick hard-on. He lets out a low groan and drops his head from your lips to rest at your chest, just above the collar of your dress. You card one hand through his hair, the other applying light pressure to the (you assume) very painful ache between his legs—and not at all because you know, if he kept bucking into your core the way he just was, the way he keeps doing against your palm—you wouldn’t be able to make it home, either. “Take—take me home, Kei—”

“Not—” he huffs. His grip on your ass tightens, but you can barely feel it. Not when Keisuke whines, low and needy, teeth coming out to nip at your breast, and all you can focus on is the ache between your own legs, getting even worse as his hips start moving faster, forcing the back of your hand against your cunt as you continue to palm him. His hips don’t stop; they push against you so fiercely, so desperately, that you cave, taking away your hand so there’s nothing between you but your clothes. 

You’re on the precipice in minutes; hands digging into his shoulders as you choke on a sob, pleading with him to go faster, to not stop, to keep making you feel good—and it’s made all the worse when he does, pressing his throbbing erection even harder against your soaked panties, all the while pleading into your skin, “can’t—can’t—fuck, baby, I can’t—y/n—“

You gasp when his teeth break skin.

Keisuke’s hips still. Warm air saturates your chest as he groans into it, and for a moment you’re frozen. Your whole body aches, and you want to scream at the cruel way your orgasm was stolen—but you’re too in shock that he got you there that fast, that easily. Something warm trickles down your cheeks, between your breasts—blood? saliva? tears?—he doesn’t move. You don’t move. You’re not even sure he’s breathing, until his shoulders heave and your skin is warmed once more. A slight burn starts to spread across your chest, and when you open your mouth to ask him why the hell he stopped—all that comes out is his name.

You say it softly, then a little louder, but it’s not until you grab his face and force him to look up that he speaks—but his eyes are fixed firmly on the reddening bite mark forming atop your breast.

“M’sorry…”

A mean part of you wants to tell him he owes you a lot more than sorry, but the way his lower lip disappears as he nervously chews on it has you choosing otherwise. “It’s okay,” you comfort instead, “it didn’t hurt that bad.”

Keisuke grimaces. “No, I—” 

He sighs, head dropping back to your chest. Both arms wrap around your waist, and he presses a light kiss to the place he’d just bitten; the only way he probably figures he can keep close without meeting your gaze. He mumbles something, but you only know because you feel his lips moving.

“Can’t hear you…” you try prompting, but it only makes him snuggle deeper. He sighs again, loud and warm and in a way you’re familiar with—the way that really means, I can’t believe I have to do this… “C’mon, Kei, don’t you want to take me home?”

“Ididntmakeit.”

You have never, ever, in your life ever seen Keisuke embarrassed. Not when he told you about needing Chifuyu to tutor him post-juvie; not when he failed his college entry exams; not even when you accidentally walked in on him showering (in hindsight, he was probably a little too comfortable with how long it might’ve taken you to leave).

This was the man who went skinny dipping for fun. He’ll order fruity drinks for his friends who are too embarrassed to do it themselves. His approach to a lost fight is to get a rematch, not pretend it didn’t exist, and even in mundane moments that have you at a loss for words, like mistaking someone’s name or forgetting a face, Kei’s always quick for a retort or defense or a smile that makes everything better.

Keisuke Baji doesn’t get embarrassed—but that’s the only word that fits. His cheeks are redder than you’ve ever seen, his breathing faster than his pulse. His eyes refuse to meet yours, and his fingers knead into clumsy, nervous patterns along the side of your thighs.

Then he takes a deep breath, and with one shaking hand, he slowly brings your palm to the crotch of his pants… that are now sticky.

Your eyes widen, and you’re almost too late to choke down a gasp. Kei’s eyes close, and he ducks his head in shame. “I didn’t—I mean, I haven’t—you're just—I’m so sorry—”

“Why?” It sounds curt, and you don’t intend it to. Better than laughing, you reason—although you will absolutely get him for this later… when it stops feeling like the most humiliating thing in the world.

Keisuke swallows. “I haven’t ever… you know.”

“What, cum early?” It’s cruel to tease, you know that, but you can’t stop the slight satisfaction that you—you—are able to bring a man like Keisuke Baji to his knees.

“No! I mean—no, I…” Kei looks out to the ocean, fingers still anxiously kneading into your thighs. The temperature drops, though you’re not sure if it actually does or you’re just feeling like it as you try to understand what’s happened, what’s happening—what you’re to do next. His jaw clenches and he tries to pull away from you, but you don’t let him. You wrap your legs around the backs of his thighs, keeping him in place.

“Kei…” you say softly. You don’t force him to look at you. Instead, you let your fingers trail up his abs, curling around his neck so you can rest your forehead against his temple and kiss his cheek. “I don’t care. Just means you gotta make it up to me—”

“I’ve never had sex before.”

You’re grateful he doesn’t look at you, because you’re not able to control the utter shock coloring your face. How is that possible? You’ve heard the whispers when you go out; you’ve seen the looks. At parties or bars or clubs, he’d find a pretty thing and disappear, and you assumed you knew what happened behind those closed doors—because why, why, why would you want to ask about that? 

The others didn’t dispel it, either; in fact, they’d constantly rip on him for his… gift, and Keisuke never fought back. He’d just smirk and wink and say, “it’s never disappointed,” and by the time you’d turned red, thinking about when you caught him in the shower and knew what they were saying was true, they’d moved on to taunting someone else.

So how the hell is it possible that Keisuke’s a virgin—and, more importantly, how didn’t you know?

You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover. If he were to ask, you’d say you were just waiting for him—because when you do speak, it’s only when Keisuke turns to you with narrowed eyes, an apprehensive blush clear on his face. 

“Wanna know a secret?” you ask, forcing a teasing lilt to your voice—though your stomach twists. This isn’t exactly the way you wanted to tell him, and for a flash, you think of how disappointed he might be to learn the truth. 

But when he meets your gaze, eyes wide and focused entirely on you, somewhere between hopeful and nervous, you know it’s for the best. Your smile is sweet, but not as sweet as your lips when you kiss the crinkle between his eyes. He immediately relaxes, hands stilling as he leans into you. “Neither have I.”

He straightens and pulls far enough away so he can examine you. For a minute, your confession hangs between the two of you, then Kei starts floundering, “but I thought… you said… but he… what about your ex?”

You shrug, your own cheeks starting to flush. “It never felt right.”

Keisuke blinks. His mouth parts, eyes darting between yours like he’s waiting for the gotcha!, but all he receives is the embarrassed way you can’t meet his gaze, feeling as if you’ve somehow let him down. You squirm, his warm hands still atop your thighs sending butterflies to your stomach, and shrug again. “I dunno, I just—didn’t think it was fair. Doing that with someone, when all I could think about…” you swallow, lips twisting as you debate whether or not to tell him the truth. 

He catches your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Think about what, sweetheart?”

The way he asks tells you he already knows; but like earlier, when you knew and had to hear it anyway, he needs you to say it, too.

So you take a steadying breath. You gently trail a finger down the side of his jaw, and you make yourself smile as you say, “you, Kei. It didn’t seem right if it wasn’t you.”

This time when he kisses you, it’s slow. He takes his time in tasting you, in savoring the moment. He lets you guide where his lips go, how his hands wander, and he waits for you to pull back before he suggests, “how about I take you home now?”

Your stomach flutters. Fingers knot at the base of his skull, and slowly, a smile spreads on your face. 

“I’d like that.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple. You can feel the joy in it, one that doesn’t fade for either of you as he unhooks your legs so you can properly straddle the bike, then tucks the helmet on you and pops on himself.

“Hold on,” he calls as he revs the engine, “might be goin’ a bit faster than usual.”

“Don’t worry,” you laugh, and even though you know he probably can’t hear you, you add, “I’m never letting go.”

You make it to Keisuke’s apartment in seven minutes flat—which, normally, would leave you terrified, given his place is twenty minutes from your spot, but you doubt that’s what’s got your heart racing. He barely gives you enough time to take the helmet off before his hands are back on you, easily scooping you up and carrying you up the stairs. You bump into a few walls, and the way you’ve got a loose grasp on his helmet sends it craning into his back just as often, but neither of you care. Between fits of giggles and cautious glances to make sure he’s not about to walk you through a glass door (or down a stairwell), you kiss like it’ll be the last time you ever get the chance to.

“Anyone home?” you mumble into his lips. He slams you against the front door of his shared three-bedroom apartment, using his hips to keep you up while he tries to find the lock by memory.

“Nope,” he replies, lips busy with your skin, fingers fumbling uselessly behind you. “Stupid—fucking lock—told Tora to leave it—never fuckin’ listens—”

“Relax,” you laugh, although that’s rich coming from you. Your legs tighten around him as you break free from his kiss, instead sucking along the column of his throat. Freeing his face is supposed to give him enough room to actually look for the lock, so the two of you can stop dry-humping in the hall and finally get the privacy you need—but like always, Keisuke does the unexpected.

He throws his head back and moans, giving you more access to leave a matching hickey—and you’re not strong enough to resist the temptation. A whine starts in his throat, from where you’re sucking on his pale skin. The keys clatter to the ground.

“Keisuke,” you scold—but before you can tease him for being in a rush, his lips are back on yours.

“Never gonna make it,” is his only defense.

“Gonna—gonna have to,” you reply, but every time you try pulling away or reach for the keys yourself, he grabs you. Wraps your wrists in his rough hands, pins them to the door beside your head, and leans so far forward that, even with your limp legs, he’s able to keep you up himself. “Kei—“

“So help me sweetheart,” he warns, hips rolling against yours with a sense of urgency only outmatched by his kiss, “if you keep saying my name like that, I swear to the gods I’m gonna fuck you right here.”

“So help me, sweetheart,” you shoot back, breathy and hot as you try to avoid the way his lips chase yours, “if you don’t get me inside right now, I might let you.”

He freezes. Pulls away from the delightful bruise he’d just been leaving below your ear and stares at you with a mixture of awe and utter delight. “Really?”

You swat the back of his head. “No, dumbass, open the fucking door.”

Keisuke’s lips, pink and bruising slightly, twist in a pretend pout as he squats. He keeps one thick palm under your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around him as he snags his keys. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“Says the guy who does—that,” you try scoffing, but you’re cut off with a moan when Kei stands and bounces you against his hips. His boner is back and harder than before, pressing into your core, the messy, wet mix of your drenched panties and his earlier cum making a lewd sound in the otherwise silent hallway. 

“Does… what, babe?” he teases. “C’mon, finish that sentence.” 

You don’t know how he finds the focus to actually find the lock this time, but you thank every deity in the world that he does—because it takes just a second, a single, solitary second for him to jimmy it in, slam the door open, and you’re finally alone.

The door frame rattles. Something falls, but you can’t tell if it’s the mirror you insisted he hang above the entry table you insisted he get or if it’s the rickety old coat rack Chifuyu said would ‘class up the joint’; all you know is that as soon as the key is in, Baji’s hands are back to cradling your thighs for support as he crosses the threshold. 

You reach for the door, but he catches it with his ankle and slams it shut, quickly spinning to pin you against it.

“Really—” you pant, “really got the place—to ourselves?”

“Mhm,” Keisuke confirms. He leans into you, palms rubbing along your thighs until they get to your knees, silently asking you to wrap tighter around him. You do, and the moment he feels your ankles cross at the small of his back, his hands move to your waist. “Told ‘em—needed space.”

“Oh?” you question, your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt and tug, tug, tugging—“And when’d you do that?”

He reaches behind his head and yanks his tee off, tossing it carelessly into the darkness of the apartment. You hadn’t even paused to turn on the lights.

“After I saw Tadashi.” You can tell he’s grinning, especially as you drag your nails along the chiseled plane of his abs. His hands slide up your torso, thumb rubbing your stomach through the thin cotton of your dress, grazing the underwire of your bra. “Told Tora this one wasn’t gonna work, either, ’n he said I should just tell ya the truth, 'cause he couldn’t watch me mope around all night again—”

“Mope?” you tease. Kei’s fingers dig in. “Kazutora accused you of moping?”

“Well—shut up!” he whines. “You try watching the person you’re in love with go out with guys who don’t deserve them and tell me you wouldn’t start moping either—y/n? Why… are you looking at me like that?”

Your eyes are wide. Your hands go limp, the helmet falling to the floor with a loud clatter. Your lips part to say… something, but you’re not sure what.

Keisuke’s told you he’s loves you a thousand times; the brief ‘kay love ya! before he hangs up; the gentle love you, see ya tomorrow whenever he’d bring you home; the drawn out gods I love you after you’ve surprised him with his favorite meal—but none like this.

None so… blatant. So unmistakable.

Kei stares at you curiously, as if he isn’t even aware of what he’s just said. He repeats your name, hands leaving your waist to catch your chin.

“You’re… in love with me?” 

Keisuke blinks.

For a moment, you think you must’ve misheard, he must’ve misspoke, you must have misunderstood—but a brilliant smile breaks his face, and he nuzzles his nose against yours. “‘Course I’m in love with you, sweetheart. I’ve been in love with you, and I ain’t ever gonna stop loving you—”

You kiss him.

The gentlest one yet. The way you always dreamed your first one would be; soft, sweet, lips pressing together while your hands held him close. Heartbeats synching. The world falling away as it’s just the two of you, in this moment, endless and forever.

There’s only one thing to say when you pause: “I love you too, Keisuke.”

Your teeth knock together as Keisuke can’t contain his smile, either. Hands move, one around the small of your back and the other under a single thigh. Your lips never part as he carries you to his room.

He sets you at the foot of his bed and stands above you. His chest heaves, bare and flushed with need. Your hands slip from his neck to his bed to keep yourself propped up, legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. Keisuke’s hands travel to your knees, and he just—stares.

He loves you. How could he not, with the way that pretty dress puddles on his mattress, exposing nearly all of your leg but hiding what he’s been waiting for his whole adult life? How could he not, with the way his spit makes your collar glistens in the moonlight, filtering in from behind those sheer curtains you insisted he get? How could he not love the way you say his name, reaching towards him, fingers catching on his belt buckle as you ask him if he’s ready?

“Not yet,” he whispers. The hoarseness of his voice, the way it’s dropped several octaves from merely seeing you on his bed, sends a jolt of electricity through you. You’re about to ask why, but the reverence in how he’s looking at you makes you not want to break this spell.

He trails his fingers along your calves. Gently, he unhooks your legs from his waist. His fingers shake as he struggles with the straps of your heels, but when you go to help, he catches your wrist. 

“No,” he repeats, “not yet.”

You keep quiet and merely watch as your best friend, the man of your dreams, takes his time in undressing you. One wedge, then the other, falling off your feet with a dull clank! on the carpet. Keisuke kisses your ankles, then starts kissing up your calves, then your knees, then your thighs—

The anticipation has you dripping. Your thighs instinctively clench when he gets to your hem, hands curling into fists by your sides. Your panties are uncomfortably glued to your cunt, sticky in a way you’ve never been before, and he’s not even lifted your dress to see yet.

Keisuke rests his chin atop your thigh. “Please,” he pleads—pleads—“Let me—baby, let me. I wanna taste you.”

Today is not the day you learn to refuse him.

Your muscles shake from anticipation as you slowly spread your legs, but that’s not enough for him. “Baby, no, I—I wanna hear you say it.” His voice is soft, shaky. A little hesitant, as if he’s not sure if this’ll ruin the moment but he knows he has to be sure—he has to hear you say it… if only to revel in the desperate way you say his name. 

“Keisuke, please… whatever you want, have it. Just—touch me, Kei, please, I need you—“

“Need you too, sweetheart,” he praises, running his lips along your thigh. “Gonna—gonna have you now, okay?”

His fingers still shake when he lifts your dress, exposing the black lace of your panties to him. At first glance, he can’t tell that they’re absolutely soaked—but that doesn’t stop the way you start to squirm in embarrassment as he just… stares. His thumbs dig into the fat of your hips, broad palms keeping your thighs spread and pinned to the bed.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s not breathing.

“Kei?”

He doesn’t look up. 

His grip gets tighter. His eyes narrow. Before you get the chance to ask him what’s wrong, he growls, “you wore these for him?”

You blink. That is not what you were expecting, but before you can defend with they’re my lucky pair, or I wanted to feel sexy, or it doesn’t matter, I’m here with you—Keisuke’s ripped them off.

You yelp when the fabric bites your skin, failing to wriggling away as Keisuke strips them off your ankle. “What the fuck—“

“I’ll get you a new pair,” he mutters. “Shit—I’ll get you a hundred pairs, but you get rid of every single set someone else has seen. Got it?”

Your lips purse. He’s being unreasonable, you think, and totally ridiculous… but no matter how much your brain tries to reason he’s out of line, your fluttering pussy doesn’t get the message. Your slick is evident now, exposed and iridescent in the moonlight, dripping down your hole and slowly saturating the sheets.

Usually, Keisuke wouldn’t let it go. Usually, he’d keep picking at it until you cave, or at least recognize you heard him—but usually, he’s not staring at your cunt. 

Right now, he can’t focus on anything but how desperate he is to be inside you.

“Yeah, think ya got it… fuck, babe… seems like you like it when I say shit like that, hunh?” 

You whimper slightly, having to bite your lip to keep it together. Slowly, he drags the tip of his finger from the sheet beneath you up along your wet folds. He barely touches you, but when he pulls his finger away, it’s covered in a layer of you. 

He brings it to his face with a cocky grin, watching how the pad shines in the moonlight. “You always this wet, or am I special?”

“Shut up,” you shoot back, preparing to bring up how special he found you earlier—only to immediately throw your head back and moan as Keisuke buries his face between your legs.

There is no preamble. There are no more teasing quips or pauses; Keisuke dives in like a man starved, and the only thing that can sate his appetite is you.

He starts with broad strokes, gathering as much of your slick as he can. He’s messy, messier than you, and soon there’s more of his spit than your wetness between your legs. His arms wrap around your thighs, keeping them pinned and spread on his shoulders as he continues to feast, thumbs spreading your lips open so he can truly devour you.

When Keisuke starts suckling on your clit, your fingers knot in his hair. You moan, loud and whiney and plead for him to keep going as your orgasm starts to boil—faster than before, more powerful too, with greater ease than you’ve ever managed to pull from yourself.

Keisuke brings a hand to your clit, quickly swiping the puffy bud with the pad of his thumb as he focuses his tongue on your fluttering hole. In and out, up and down, the warm muscle drives you insane. Your grip on his hair must hurt, but he says nothing; he focuses on making you feel as good as humanly possible, never once letting up, not even when you start to choke, “Kei—I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he commands. “C’mon, pretty girl, make a mess on my face, wanna feel how you clench, wanna make ya cry—”

It sends you over the edge.

With a scream of his name, your back arches. Your thighs try closing around him but still, he doesn’t let up. He keeps pace, tongue-fucking you, lapping up all the juice that spills out as his thumb continues caressing your clit until you do start crying and you do have to plead, “no—no more, Kei, can’t—“

“Can,” he corrects—but he stops. His hand stills, moving so that the warmth of his palm covers that sensitive bundle of nerves, and only then does he stop lapping at your hole. He presses a gentle kiss to your sex, then to your inner thigh. “But I’ll be nice tonight, sweetheart. Only ‘cause I love you, though.”

You stare at the ceiling as you catch your breath. The paint is peeling in the corner. The glow-in-the-dark stars you helped him put up when he first moved in are dim. The walls are covered in motorcycle posters. A calendar set to the wrong month hangs above a salvaged desk, covered with various veterinary textbooks, barely legible notebooks, a handful of empty beer cans, and a handful of DVD cases, one of which you know is Dyslexia; How to Read When Even Your Brain Doesn’t Want You To. A neon sign advertising Margaritaville is unlit beside his closet. A pile of clothes that didn’t make it to the hamper rests beneath it.

 The room is so—Keisuke , you feel at peace, even as your limbs turn to jelly.

Your heart is racing faster than if you’d just run a marathon. “Thought—thought you said you hadn’t—“ you try panting, but it’s too much effort, too soon. You end up collapsing back on the bed, head swimming with euphoria.

“Said I hadn’t had sex,” Keisuke corrects as he stands, your limp thighs falling to the either side of his waist, “not that I’ve never eaten pussy.” He scoffs, as if that should’ve been obvious. “I’m not an idiot, babe. I respect women enough to know where the clit is.”

A little laugh escapes you. The fan motor is the only other sound. It’s cool, your nipples perk beneath your bra, but you’re still hot. Still hyper aware that Keisuke is just a few inches away, watching your bare cunt flutter and beg him for more.

Keisuke does love you. You know he does, because he gives you time to catch your breathe before he starts up again, only pressing soft kisses to the inside of your legs and quiet offerings of, “so fuckin’ pretty” and “can’t believe you’re here” and, your favorite, the only one you respond to: “so in love with you.” 

“I love you too, Kei.”

He runs his hands along your sides, slowly taking more and more of your dress up with it until the entire thing is resting by your neck. He makes quick work of your bra, not even needing you to sit up as he unhooks it and lifts the cups away.

He says nothing; just stares at your naked body with the same adoration and awe he held when taking off your shoes.

“You’re—so beautiful,” he whispers. “Y’know that? So—so fuckin’ beautiful.”

He bends down and takes a pert nipple in his mouth. You whine, hate yourself for doing so, then whine again as his free hand starts tweaking your other nipple. He runs his tongue over every inch of your chest, making sure you’re covered with his spit and hands, traversing as much of you as he can.

When he gets to your face, he smiles. “You’re mine, yeah? All mine?”

Your fingers run over his jaw, over the bruise that’s barely discernible in the moonlight. No one’s touched you like him; no one’s even kissed you like him, either, and you’re not sure if it’s the “Keisuke” of it all making you feel like this, or if this is how it’s supposed to have felt all along. 

The answer comes easily.

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile of your own, “yeah, m’all yours, Keisuke. Pretty sure I always have been.”

“Always, hunh?” He holds you gently now; a stark contrast to the hungry way he’d just devoured you. “That mean you’ve always loved me, too?”

Your breathy yes is lost in a gasp when his hand slides between your legs. Gently, he prods a single thick finger into your virgin hole, shallowly dipping in and out. “Never had someone else in here, hunh? M’gonna be your first?”

“Y-yes,” you repeat, voice cracking. Your eyes flutter close as he keeps fingering you. You’d had fingers in there before, but none like this. Your own couldn’t compare, two of yours barely able to stretch the way one of his does… and he’s not even going all the way. Not even knuckle deep as he explores only the shallows, letting you adjust.

Your face scrunches when he adds a second.

“This okay?” he asks. You look at him, hand wrapping around his neck as you bring his forehead down to meet yours.

You nod, then remember what he said earlier, how you could feel his cock jumping when you were sweet and needy for him. “Yeah, Keisuke. Yes—yes, I want this. I want you.”

He cups your face and trails soft kisses from corner to corner, breaking apart only to lift your dress and bra over your head. They’re carelessly thrown to the floor, you have half a mind to scold him that it’ll wrinkle—but when he goes back to your cunt, two fingers halfway in, all you’re able to say is the harsh inhale of his name.

They’re shallow, never pushing in deep enough to hurt, slowly stretching your rim to its max. He goes a little deeper, then starts scissoring them, and it becomes nearly impossible to believe he hasn’t done this before.

“No—no way you’re a virgin,” you hiss when Keisuke’s lips travel to your breast. He alternates between sucking hickeys and kneading them while staring at the way your cunt sucks him in, never stopping his ministrations.

Keisuke lets out a short scoff and shifts. “You literally made me cum my pants like a teenager.”

“Then how—“

“I told ya, babe, I respect women,” is his only reply. The only one he’s willing to give, at least, because he starts paying more attention to your tits than what questions are spilling his way.

You feel like you’ve got to be ready when he adds a third, and you say as much—only for Keisuke to meet your gaze with a cocky grin. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re gonna thank me for this.” 

It can’t be much longer until he deems you ready, but it feels like forever, even if he keeps you distracted from the slight burn between your legs by playing with your breasts, sucking on your throat, praising you.

“Taking m’fingers so well, pretty thing. You’re such a good girl f’me, can’t believe you made me wait this long…”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you scold. He curls his fingers mid-way through your sentence, rubbing against a sensitive spot you’ve never been able to find on your own. You keen his name, hand snapping down to catch his forearm. He pauses.

“Too much?”

Slowly, you shake your head, eyes watering. “Please, Kei, I—I want you to fuck me.”

Keisuke presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Never could say no to you, sweetheart.”

If you could think clearly, you’d start listing all the times he has denied you, starting with just a few seconds ago—but him withdrawing his fingers leaves you feeling too empty to do much but pout.

When he pulls away, you chase after him, only for him to shake his head with a fond grin. “How am I supposed to fuck you if you won’t let me take my pants off?”

With hot cheeks, your lips twist. “You were the one who wanted to fuck on your bike, and then in the hall—what, were you planning on stripping naked then, too?”

You’re rewarded with a very rare, very endearing blush. He sits back on his knees and rubs his neck, eyes dropping from yours—then his lip curls in a smirk. “With how wet you got, seems like you wanted me to. What—you like the idea of that? Getting fucked in public? Don’t worry, sweetheart, maybe we’ll try that one day…” He laughs at the way you squirm, but he’s not wrong; your cunt clenches at the thought.

“You’re such a dick.” Your hands reach for his belt, fumbling slightly as you try to undo it. Keisuke’s hands take over, getting rid of the black leather in seconds.

“Your dick,” he corrects, hands back on you, gently laying you back against his pillows, trailing over your now completely naked body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You roll your eyes but say nothing, heart in your throat, pussy pulsing in anticipation.

He straightens, taking in the display in front of him. Taking in you.

You sit up slightly, chewing your lower lip. He’s beautiful, but even more so in the moonlight. It illuminates his pale skin, almost making him glow in the darkness of the rest of his room. Obsidian hair falls in a straight sheet around his flushed cheeks, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Violet and red marks adorn his neck and chest. His abs flex when he watches the way your eyes trail down; down the inlet between them, down the stern jut of his prominent v-line, over the faint trail of dark hair that disappears into the band of his jeans.

His fingers—the ones just inside you—hover on the button. They’re covered in your slick, resting just above a bulge that looks absolutely delicious, one that you know he can’t wait to bury inside you—but still, he hesitates.

“I love you, Keisuke,” you say. He smiles. It’s the only further confirmation he needs before he’s pushing off the bed and pulling down his jeans and underwear in one go.

The others have lied about a lot—like Baji’s lack of virginity—but the size of Keisuke is not one of them.

Your jaw drops as you push to your knees, staring at Keisuke’s cock like it’s the first you’ve ever seen. It’s not, and technically speaking, it’s not even the first time you’ve seen his—but that time in the shower, when it was hanging heavily between his legs and you only caught a glimpse… apparently, that was him soft.

Keisuke hard is more impressive than any porn you’ve seen. So heavy that it can barely support its own weight, even with all the blood rushing through it, and so wide around even Keisuke, with his broad palms and lanky fingers, doesn’t dwarf it. 

A thick bead of pre slips out the tip, trailing along the bulging vein that disappears under Keisuke’s hand as he starts to stroke it.

“This… is where the others tapped out,” he says slowly, taking in the way you watch. “I mean—not that I’m thinking about them—but I just—“

“You’re big.”

Keisuke chokes on a laugh. “So I’ve heard. Pretty virgin like you wouldn’t know any better though, would you?”

You give him a withering glare. “I’ve sucked dick before, asshole. You’re big.”

Keisuke’s jaw clenches. “Yeah? Go on, then. Show me how you’ve sucked dick.”

Later, you’ll tease him for how jealous he got, and later, you’ll revel in the possessive way he determines to erase every other touch from your memory—but now, you obediently crawl towards him, one of your smaller hands overlapping his, and you take control.

You press a soft kiss to his flushed tip. It’s larger than your lips, his pre a salty gloss as you kiss again and again—Keisuke grips your hair. “Suck.”

It’s as much a plea as it is a command, one you can’t ignore. You take him,—just the tip—in your mouth, tongue swirling over his warm head as your hand replaces his on the rest of his dick. Your fingers barely touch, and no matter how you adjust, how you lay your palm or spread your fingers… there’s still at least an inch of him exposed.

He hisses, nearly drowning out the lewd, wet sound your pussy makes as it clenches around nothing.

“This—turning you on?” he says, as if his cock isn’t twitching obscenely against your tongue. “Fuckin—sucking on a big cock making you wet?”

You let go with a wet pop! and bat your eyelashes at him. You know exactly what you’re doing when you say, “No, Kei. I’m this wet ‘cause of you.”

With a groan, Keisuke pulls your head back to his dick and thrusts in, sliding as far as you’ll let him before you start to gag. “That’s—that’s it, sweetheart, get it nice and wet.”

He holds you there for a moment, waiting until you tap on his thigh before sliding out. Your eyes are teary, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. Deftly, you twist your wrist while catching your breath. His fingers go from knotting in your hair to petting the back of your head.

“You keep doing that, I’m gonna bust,” he warns, but his fond smile gives him away.

You merely smile. “Telling me you’ve never had your cock sucked, Kei?” 

His lip curls in a snarl, which disappears with a groan when you take him in your throat once more. Slowly, lips pursing around him, tongue flicking along the sensitive underside of his cockhead as you try going as far as you can. Your jaw is already starting to ache, but you’re determined to prove yourself.

“Not—like this,” he moans, pushing your head a little further down. Your lips split in a smile, and you raise your hand to start fondling his balls—a trick that’s always gotten you success before—but before you make contact, Keisuke is sliding out and grabbing your jaw. He’s breathing heavily, pupils blown out with lust. He stares at your lips then leans forward, not flinching at the taste of himself on you.

“Wanna fuck you now,” he mumbles. You wrap your arms around his neck and start to lean back, nodding.

“Want you to fuck me too,” you agree. One of Keisuke’s muscular thighs slides between your legs, easing them apart. He keeps kissing you, letting you fall softly against his pillows while he keeps stroking his member, slick with your spit.

He taps the tip of his cock against your clit. You hiss in surprise, eyes closing shut at the sudden sensation of pleasure that rushes through you. “Let me know if it hurts,” he says quietly. He grips his cock right beneath the head, guiding it through your slick folds, getting as much of your fluids on him as he can. 

He’s torn between needing to see the way you suck him in, and the need to squeeze his eyes shut. The sight of you alone, legs spread on either side, pussy gushing because of him, covering in marks because of him, mewling his name as you beg him to fuck you—it’s almost enough for him to cum on the spot. 

Faintly, honks echo from the street below. It’s amazing that in this instant, as your world is about to change forever and for the better, everyone else is going about their business like nothing’s happening. They’re catching a late-dinner with their partner; walking home from a late-night meeting that could’ve been an email; swinging by the grocer’s to pick up snacks and drinks to share with their friends… The whole world is continuing on, just beyond that window, but for you and Keisuke… it’s as if time’s stopped. 

The world is only real for the two of you.

He bends down to kiss you, making sure to pour every ounce of love and care he has into this one. You respond just as sweetly, reveling in the power of this moment, this one decision that will irrevocably tie you together forever, the way you were always meant to be.

He loves you, you love him, and there’s nothing else that matters.

“Ready?” he asks. You nod, then echo, “ready,” and he puts it in; just the tip, spearing past your tight hole. The two of you let out a synchronous gasp.

It’s even more than three of his fingers; warm, too, and thick, softer but also harder and full—you’re so, so, so full as he slowly edges in. It hurts—it feels good—it burns—you need more—

“Baby,” Keisuke pants. He’s let go of his cock, letting just the first inch or so rest comfortably within your walls. You feel him twitch, feel how tight his fingers dig into the sheets on either side of you so he doesn’t add more bruises to your ever-growing collection. “Baby, talk to me. Tell me—are you—are you okay?”

You whimper slightly when he sinks a little further. Eyes scrunching, your fingers digging into his thighs as you try to even your breath. “It—it’s so—“ you try saying, but it’s like you can feel him in your stomach, the pressure tightening all the way up your throat and cutting you off.

“So—good,” Keisuke gasps. He does the best he can, really, but you—you’re so—warm, and wet, and inviting—the place you’re joined might be the best thing he’s ever felt–ever seen. He slides a little further, presses a kiss to wherever he can reach as he waits until your chest stops heaving as horribly. He tries telling you he loves you, he really tries telling you how amazing you are, how perfect you are, how good you feel—but all that comes out are choked, half-sentences that fade into groans.

Tears prick at your lash line by the time he’s securely sheathed in you. Your fingers dig into his back, trying to pull him flush to your chest and bury his head in your neck so he can’t see. You know how he’ll feel; he’ll pull out and say he’s sorry, that he never meant to hurt you and it’s not worth it and he won’t try again–and that’s not what you want. You just need some time to adjust, that’s all. 

You never realized how empty you were.

Keisuke lifts up from the crook of your neck when the first tear slides against his cheek. “M’sorry,” he breathes, kissing one eye, then the other, licking the tear tracks and kissing you again. “M’sorry, I don’t wanna hurt—“ His arms shake on either side of you. The urge to start shifting his hips is sinful, but he doesn’t. He can’t, not until you're okay, not until you tell him it’s okay.

“It’s—okay,” you breathe. Your face says otherwise, but really… it’s okay. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, offering him a little smile as you shift your hips ever-so-slightly against his. “I’m—I’m okay, baby, really. Just—just go slow.”

Keisuke kisses you. Slowly, deeply, spreading your lips with his as he gently pulls out and slides back in, heeding your directive to go slow. It hurts, it still hurts, is it supposed to hurt like this—but right when you’re about to give up, right when you’re about to tell him it's too much and maybe you should stop… it starts to feel good.

Not just full, but satisfying, bumping against the back of your messy cunt with every stroke. The ridge of his cockhead catches your insides in a way that makes your toes curl, and before long, your legs are wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Gods—fuck, Kei, fuck—“ you hiss, burying your head in his shoulder, biting his collarbone to keep yourself from screaming. “Just—there, like that, don’t—fuck—“

“Thought you said you were a virgin,” he hisses. Your broken pleas of, I am, I am, I am—go unrecognized as he slowly picks up speed. “Virgin pussy—heh—always feel this—fuckin’ good?”

You moan, loud and unreserved, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. Your stomach burns. Your pussy clenches, but for the first time, there’s finally something to hold on to, finally something to fill you up—you’ve never been so full, never felt so good. The coil tightens in your stomach, made all the more tense by the fact there’s something inside— “Gonna— gonna cum, Kei, don’t—don’t stop, please—“

“Yeah, sweetheart? You gonna—gonna cum for me? Go on, cum f’me. Cum on my cock, baby, show me what we’ve been—been waitin’ for—“

You cry when your orgasm finally washes over you.

You’ve never climaxed this powerfully before, to the point that you’ve felt like—this. The world is empty besides the two of you. Bells ring in your ear as you struggle to keep your eyes open, your whole body floating. You feel everything and nothing; like you’re weightless but have never been so heavy in your life.

You gasp for air, fingers digging into Keisuke’s shoulders as his hips stutter a few more times then still. His moans into your ear as his own orgasms consumes him, painting your insides white, shooting so much it drips out of your spent pussy and starts to puddle between you.

He stays there for a moment. Lets his lips trace lazy patterns beneath your ear, still half-hard inside you, one hand gripping the back of your neck and the other holding your breast. Even though you’re spent, your hands delicately trail up and down his spine. Your breathing is heavy and your smile bright and you think you could stay right here forever.

The plastic stars one his ceiling smile down at you, and you imagine the ones outside are doing the same. ‘About time!’ they seem to say. After all these years, about time. There’s a shrill whistle of bus brakes, screeching to a halt; a muffled shout from one pedestrian to another. The fan creaks slightly, the cool air washing over you and helping calm the raging fire on your skin. The clock on Keisuke’s lopsided nightstand, made even with a stack of textbooks he never got to put to use, beeps at midnight: the end of one day, the start of forever.

Kei takes a deep breath and slides off, hissing as his sensitive cock is exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. He lays on his back, taking a hand and placing it over his eyes as he tries to calm his racing heart.

Your legs are sticky. They’re already getting sore. Your hips ache, your spine stretches, your chest burns—but you relish it. Kei’s breathing evens beside you. 

Glancing, you check if he’s asleep—but with the way his forearm covers his eyes, you can’t tell. He looks even more like an angel now. Light, from a city just waking up, creeps past the curtains, illuminating slivers of his pale and flushed skin. He looks–relaxed. Content, even with the blush still coloring his high cheeks bones. His lips are parted, shallow gasps of air being sucked through them, but the longer you look, the more it looks like they’re curling in a smile.

His chest rises and falls steadily, and just when you start to think he might actually be asleep, the hand beneath your neck starts playing with your hair.

“Think it’s—always this good?” he asks breathlessly, pulling you in a little closer.

You pretend to think. He tilts his head, cracking an eye to look down at you curiously. You smile. “I don’t know. Think we better try again—y’know, just to be sure.”

Kei barks out a laugh and pulls you to his chest, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And right now, with the gentle light filtering through his open window, sweaty and smiling and with his cum dripping from between your legs to make a mess of his thigh, you are.

You play with the edges of his hair, sprawled lazily across his sweaty forehead. With a soft smile, he reaches for your fingers and pulls them to his lips. “Do you actually like it? My haircut, I mean. Pretty sure you liked the other stuff.”

You answer with a laugh, pressing a kiss to where the edges fall. “I love it.”

He grins and rolls over, pinning you to the mattress. The short locks make a curtain, hiding the two of you from anything but each other. “Good. Did it f’you.”

“For me?”

He hums and buries his face in your neck, delicately kissing the bruising skin. “Noticed your type. None of them had long hair, ’n I thought…”

With a pealing laugh, you grab his cheeks and bring his face to yours, smothering him with kisses. “Keisuke, you are such an idiot.”

He pretends to frown, but kisses you all the same. “Weren’t calling me that when I was making you scream earlier.”

“Kei,” you say, forcing him back so you can really meet his eyes, “short hair, long hair. No hair. The only kind of guy I’ve ever truly wanted has been you.”

Keisuke blinks. Short, thick lashes bat against those endlessly high cheekbones of his, and then he smiles. He lowers his lips to yours once more and gifts you a kiss; deep, slow. A kiss that’s been years in the making, that says all that your words have and then some.

“I love you,” he says, and you barely have time to say the same before he’s kissing you, hardening cock easily gliding back through your sticky folds, and you go for round two.

So... happy adventuring :) thank you for reading! if you made it this far… pls reblog, drop a comment, or leave an ask if you enjoyed!! I worked really, really hard on this, and it would mean the absolute world to me that, if y’all enjoyed it, you told me why. if you hated it, tell me why. if i made you cry or scream or fall in love or fierce fiercely full of disappointed rage, tell me why!! i won’t bite (unless you ask)!

hopefully the next adventure gets even better. thanks for reading!

[hauntedministry]

I will ruin you.

Pairings: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!reader

Word count: Approx 4.5K

Summary: After a long-term relationship ended badly, you decided it was best to return home, surrounded by people you knew, and grew up with. It had been years since you’d seen Joel and had always had eyes for him but knew never to act upon it.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! SMUT MINORS DNI!! Age gap, reader is in their 20s and Joel is in his 40s. Unprotected P in V sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy). Light degradation, ish. Brat taming kink also ish, let’s gooo (I mean dbf!Joel and brat taming go hand in hand). Spanking, risky sex, creampie, kind of stalker Joel but not really. If I can think of anymore or if you find more please let me know 🫶

A/N: This is my first fic I’ve posted so please let me know what you think! I’m also definitely not a writer this is mostly self indulgent 😅

The sun was setting as your dads pick up pulled into the driveway. You jumped out of the car and onto the pavement, there was a slight breeze that ran through your hair, it was a little chilly but still pleasant. Grabbing your bag from the front seat, you shut the door and let out a small sigh while you looked at the home where you grew up. It felt so nice to be back home. “Thanks for getting me, dad.” You say giving your dad a smile.

“Anytime sweetheart, it’s good to have you back home.” He pulled you in for a cuddle, and you felt instantly comforted. You’d missed him, barely being able to find the time to see him, let alone call. But now you had all the time in the world. He walked up to the front door and unlocked it. “After you, princess.” Your dad gestured while he stepped to the side.

“Hey come on now, enough of that, dad.” You rolled your eyes at the pet name while walking indoors. “I haven’t been ‘princess’ for years.”

“Ah well you’re still my little girl.” He replied and in response you groaned and shook your head with a smile. The last time you were able to visit home had been 3 years ago when your ex had actually given a damn about your life. You’d missed it so much. “I’ll let you get your things upstairs. Join me when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, I shouldn’t be too long!” You called down to your dad, already up the stairs and headed to your old room. You dropped your bag on the bed and sat down next to it, taking a moment to take in your surroundings. Most of things were as you left them, some decorations made you cringe as it was years since you had moved out. You then hopped off your bed and began to unpack a few items from your travel bag. The rest of your belongings were left at your exes. That was a task for another day you thought to yourself, now all you wanted was to relax.

Shortly after your dad had brought you two home, the front door was opened, then shut, then followed by a loud voice calling out to your dad. You’d investigate in a second but for now you just wanted a moment to yourself. After freshening yourself up you changed into a different outfit, a pair of charcoal mum jeans and a loose fitting baby pink sweater that you half tucked into your jeans.

You finally decided to show face and find out who the mystery visitor was. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. After reaching the bottom step you walked into the living room and stopped in your tracks. “Oh my god, Joel?” You called out to the tall man standing next to your dad, he was wearing a simple black t-shirt that clung to his broad chest and it was paired with navy blue jeans. You didn’t think you’d see him again after he moved away so this was such a wonderful surprise. Joel and your dad had been friends for a very long time, they always helped each other out when they needed it. You hated to admit it but you had always had the hots for him for so many years. Joel turned his head towards you and also had to do a double take.

“Who the fuck is this?” He then looked back to your dad and your smile dropped, you felt a twinge of disappointment. “Ahh I’m just kiddin’ doll, c’mere!” with a grin and a chuckle, he pulled you in for a hug, his big arms wrapped around you, you instantly melted into him. You could’ve stayed there forever, his scent was intoxicating. “God it’s been like five years ain’t that right?” Joel said with his arms still wrapped around you, his chin rested softly on your head.

“Yeah it’s been a while.” You both finally broke away from the hug and you took this as an opportunity to really look him over. Gosh he was still as gorgeous as you had remembered, if not more so. “Last time I came home was about three years back, but I know you’d moved away. I didn’t think I’d see you again, what brought you back?” You ask trying to discreetly check him out, you could’ve sworn his eyes were trailing you up and down but you swiftly pushed away the thought. Joel had aged like a fine wine, his hair was growing a few more greys, his face gained more wrinkles but it suited him so well.

“Somethin’ ‘bout this place, just feels like home. Besides I had nothin’ keepin’ me back there anyway.” He caught your gaze and you snapped out of your daydreaming. Last time you’d seen him, he was head over heels for some woman, that must’ve ended or he wouldn’t be back you thought to yourself.

“I’m with you there Joel. Well I’m glad you’re back. So what’s my second favourite old man been up to?” You ask giddy with excitement and nudge his arm with your elbow.

“Old man? All this time to grow up and she still ain’t learnt any manners?” He shook his head calling to your dad who was in the kitchen and laughed, a deep belly laugh. You swear it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Your dad came back from the kitchen with some beer bottles, you gladly accepted as did Joel.

“It comes from a place of love I swear!” You replied with a hand on your heart and a bat of your lashes. All three of you made your way to the couch and took your places, you sat on one end of the sofa, your dad next to you and Joel on the armchair just a little off to the side. He was sat with his legs wide, his large thighs constricted in his jeans. You had to remind yourself to look away.

“I know sugar, ‘m just teasin’.” He shoots you a wink from his side of the room. “Me an’ your dad found work together, like handy stuff fixin’ things an’ the like.” He took another swig from his bottle. Your dad got up to grab some snacks from the kitchen. “How comes you’re back home then? I thought you had found your Prince Charming?” He asked, looking you over for answers.

“Oh yeah, him.” You said, your tone lowering to an almost whisper as your thumb fiddled with the rim of your bottle.

“Oh my bad, doll. I-.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck as he saw your demeanour change.

“No no, it’s fine. He was just so immature and he’d fallen out of love a long time back.” You take a moment to gather yourself before continuing. “In the end I caught him with buried balls deep in some girl.” Joel was watching you recant the memory, he felt bad but in his mind he knew he was never right for you. “Just wish I could’ve seen it coming sooner.”

“I’m sorry, that must’ve hurt real bad.” You nodded slowly looking down at your bottle. “Stupid boy don’t know what he’s lost.” Joel continued, the compliment sending a warmth through your body, why did he have to be so goddamn charming.

“Still, that part of my life’s over, now it’s time to start a new chapter. And hey, could be worse at least I’ve got my two old boys with me.” You giggled, blushing slightly making contact with Joel’s beautiful deep brown eyes.

“Ah man come on now!” He retorted with a half grin.

The evening carried on filled with remembering memories and making stupid dad jokes. You’d missed just being able to be you around people you loved and cared about. And my god was it so good to see Joel again.

————————————————————————————

Joel came to your dads almost every morning to head off to their various call outs together. One morning, you had come downstairs in your pyjamas, a black cami top and short set with a lace trim. Before the two men set out you always offered to make them a cup of coffee. Joel always gave you a wink after thanking you, in return he gave you butterflies.

On another occasion, you’d just gotten out of the shower and you were sat on the side of your bed with a towel wrapped around you, putting moisturiser on your legs when Joel came upstairs to use the bathroom. He walked past your room and your eyes met his, he stilled for a moment and you could’ve sworn he lingered a bit longer than he should’ve, but he then swiftly continued his journey to the bathroom. You smiled to yourself and bit your lip. That same night all you could think about was the way he looked at you. Needless to say your hand found its way between your legs quicker than you’d like to admit.

The next evening, your friends had invited you out for a catch up and a sort of welcome home night out together. You dressed up in a tight fitting black dress mini that sat off the shoulders with long sleeves. Paired with black strappy heels and a little black shoulder bag. You felt good to be going out with friends not worrying about how to behave or looking at someone the wrong way, just free to do what you wanted.

At the bar your group had chosen, this guy kept looking you up and down from the bar, oh boy you knew where this was leading, and you were gonna follow suit. He was cute enough and recently there was only one thing on your mind, you knew you could never get what you wanted with Joel, so random guy from the bar would make do. You headed over to the bar and ordered a drink. “Make that two!” The guy called to the bartender. You both chatted away over the loud music, not really paying attention to what he was saying anyway. Eventually you both decided to cut the bullshit and head back to yours.

When the two of you got back to your dads, you fumbled around in your purse for your key and eventually opened the door. His hands were on you immediately, pulling down the neckline of your dress exposing your breasts. Images of Joel flashed in your mind wishing it was him who was fondling you. But this would do for now as a temporary fix.

You both stumbled into the living room, the room was tinted orange from the soft glow of the streetlight outside. You bumped into the arm of the sofa and pulled him down on top of you. You were giggling but you were trying to keep quiet and you were in also in a rush, it had been so long since someone had touched you. His hands grabbed at your tits and gave your nipples a pinch. “What about your dad?” He asked between breathy kisses.”

“Sleeping, shh.” Was all you replied. He nodded and was clearly also in a hurry as his shirt was whipped off his body in a flash and then he began to unbutton his pants, he started to pull up your dress when the front door swiftly opened and clicked shut and in walked Joel fucking Miller.

You’d never asked his name, and frankly you didn’t care, but the half naked guy shot up from the sofa, fear riddled his face. “Ah shit, look man I’m sorry. She asked me to come home, I promise we weren’t gonna do anything.” He kept rambling on, trying to make up some excuse. The shock of Joel catching you like this paralysed you momentarily, unable to think or move. Then you snapped out of it and quickly pulled up the top of your dress to cover yourself.

“Get out.” Was all Joel said, his voice was deep and gravely and his eyes not leaving yours once. The guy scrambled to dress himself again and get out of the house. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Hey no hang on, you can’t tell me what to do. He can stay.”you tried to stand up for yourself but the guy was already wriggling out of your grasp and headed to the door apologising profusely as he rushed past Joel. You thought Joel was gonna attack him as he was breathing heavily through his nose. Joel’s whole demeanour changed and you had never seen him like this, of course it was turning you on even more, how could it not? Joel’s eyes returned to you.

“Him, really?” He looked at you with disgust his words like venom spitting from his mouth. You clenched your thighs together. God why did this make you even hornier?

“Oh my god, Joel, you’re not my dad!” Your hands covered your face from embarrassment. “Why are you here anyway it’s like one in the morning?” You asked him trying to keep your voice down.

“Your dad left his tools at mine, he needs them early, and I couldn’t sleep.” He nonchalantly replied. Your eyes dropped down to see the toolbox in hand. Okay it was a bit of a weird alibi but you went along with it. “So I thought I’d be nice and drop ‘em off for him. But don’t go changin’ the subject, you’ve not even been home a week? And you’re already causin’ trouble. I knew you hadn’t changed.” He spat at you with disgust. “Lettin’ some silly little boy get his hands on you in your dads home, while he’s asleep? He’ll be so disappointed.” Joel’s head turned in the direction of the stairs.

“No, no, no no no.” You waved your hands out in-front of you. “Seriously though, you’re not gonna tell him?” You looked at him searching for an answer. “Joel what the fuck? I can do what I fucking want, if I want to fuck someone I can, it’s my body I’ll do what I want with it.”

“Shut your mouth!” He suddenly grabbed you by the throat and squeezed ever so slightly. Fear shook your body but you could feel your wetness pooling, you clenched your thighs again to feel some form of release. A moan was caught in your throat, and then it hit you. The realisation. Joel was jealous.

“You fucking pervert, Miller.” You said to him. Joel only squeezed tighter. “You just didn’t like the thought of me with another guy, that’s right isn’t it? You’re a jealous old man.” He pushed you back down onto the sofa by the throat. His hand felt so good wrapped around your neck, you were disappointed by the loss.

“I said shut your fucking mouth you little brat.” His body caged you in as he towered over you and pointed a thick finger to your face.

“Make me.” You bravely replied, with an eyebrow raised. You were almost challenging him.

“You really wanna try that shit with me?” Joel’s eyes had darkened and his voice deepened.

“I said, make, me”. You repeated and then a sharp slap stung you across the left side of your face then his large hand grabbed your jaw. Your eyes widened with shock, once more you found yourself squeezing your thighs together.

“Fuckin’ knew you were still a little brat. And the way you been walkin’ round wearin’ next to fuckin’ nothin’. You knew exactly what you were doin’ ain’t that right doll? Knew I couldn’t keep my eyes off ya.” Joel grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you back up, he then took your spot and brought you down over his knee. His large hands pulled up the skirt of your dress exposing your ass to him. He brought his hand down on your cheek a loud slap echoed through the living room. A sharp gasp broke through your mouth, his hand felt so good, the sting painful but pleasurable at the same time. You bit your lower lip hard stopping yourself from moaning and god forbid waking up your dad. Joel quietly chuckled. “You’re lovin’ this ain’t you doll? You filthy little thing.” You nodded and moved your hips trying to grind yourself against his thigh. “This what you wanted? How many times you thought about me? ‘Bout the things I could do to you? Huh?”

“T- too many.” You replied shamefully, your face and ass stinging from the contact. He continued spanking you making your behind tender and sore. He then yanked down your black panties exposing your aching pussy to him. You were ashamed just how much this was turning you on, you were dripping.

“Such a pretty little cunt. Dripping for me and I’ve not even touched you yet.” He then pressed two fingers against your folds to smear your juices around. A soft moan came from your mouth. “Mmm, could bury myself in you right now you’re so wet.”

“Joel, please I need you. I need you so bad.” You whined, aching for him. He then helped you up off his knee and turned you to face him. His hands made quick work of helping you out of your dress, when it reached the floor you stepped out and kicked it away.

“Look at you. So perfect.” Joel complimented as his hand palmed his growing bulge. “I will ruin you. Do you realise that, doll? Are you sure that’s want you want?” Joel questioned. “I’m tellin’ ya now sugar, if we do this I ain’t gonna be able to stop myself.” You could tell that he needed you just as much as you needed him. “All you’ll be able to think about is how my cock tears your pretty little pussy up.”

“Joel, please.” You begged, he looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “I’ve wanted you for so long you have no idea.” Under the soft orange street light you could see a devilish grin plastered across his face. “Always thought about what you could do to me.” You watched as Joel began undressing himself, he pulled down his jeans and his boxers. His thick cock sprung free and slapped against his stomach. You bit your lip as you watched it twitch. His hand gripped his length and he began pumping gently. Joel’s free hand was on you once more as he turned you around and guided your throbbing core over him.

“Now, sugar, you’re gonna fuck yourself on me, show me how bad you want this.” Your cheeks flushed red as you lifted a leg up onto the sofa for balance as you lowered yourself onto him. The stretch he provided was painful yet deliciously, you whimpered while you accommodated his thickness. “Ooh my, g- god.” He moaned as you finally took all of him inside. His hands found their way under your ass to help you as you started to bounce.

“Fuck, Joel.” You whined as you rode him. “You feel so big.” Soft sounds of skin slapping could be heard as Joel began to match your rhythm. He wrapped an arm around your waist and his hand found purchase on your breast, he squeezed firmly.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for me, doll.” Joel whispered his praise to you as you bounced on his cock. “If only your daddy knew what his precious little angel was doing right now.” As if on cue, your dads bedroom door opened and then his shuffling footsteps slowly followed him down the stairs. “Shh, shhh. Gotta keep quiet babygirl.” Joel whispered in your ear. “Can’t have your daddy finding you like this can we?” He pulled you down to lay beside him, hiding both of you behind the big cushions on the sofa. His left hand was clamped tight around your mouth and his right was working at your clit, rubbing perfect circles that sent waves of pleasure all over your body. Joel had you pressed tight against his chest, he was still stuffed balls deep inside you, slowly thrusting. Your eyes rolled back, as Joel’s lips attacked your neck, sucking on the same spot. Your dad had reached the bottom of the stairs and then switched on the light in the kitchen and the tap began to run.

Joel continued to fuck you painfully slowly. Each trust driving you insane with need, he’d pull his hips back so his tip was barely inside then he’d push all the way in. A squeal escaped from your mouth through Joel’s hand and your eyes widened. The tap stopped running. Your heart plummeted. Joel only continued rubbing your clit. You tried to swat his hand away, afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. He of course ignored you and the action only spurred him on more. The coil in your stomach began to tighten, you knew what was coming. Joel could feel it too, your walls fluttering around him, he rubbed your clit faster to get you closer. You were trapped under his hold, unable to do anything but give in to the pleasure he was providing. Then it hit you, your eyes shut tight as you came harder than you ever had before, his hand pressed harder into your face as more moans left your mouth. Your legs spasmed and trembled from the aftershock. Joel then removed his hand from your clit but he still continued thrusting, working you through your orgasm as your walls clenched around him, Joel huffed and bit down on your earlobe even he was trying to control himself.

Finally your dad left the kitchen, but he paused by the living room for what felt like forever, then he turned and ascended the staircase. As soon as the bedroom door clicked shut Joel pulled out and you almost cried at the loss. He shimmied out from behind you and got off the couch. He then wrapped his muscular arms around your legs and roughly pulled you towards the edge of the sofa and you let out a soft giggle. Joel then spread your legs apart allowing him better access, he positioned himself in front of your cunt and rubbed his painfully hard cock against for folds, slapping it against your clit occasionally. He then aligned his cock with your entrance and slammed his hips forward, knocking the air out of your lungs. He relentlessly rutted into you, his balls slapping against your ass. “Bet’cha that stupid little boyfriend of yours couldn’t make you feel this good?” Joel’s tone was lowered, but you could hear the need in his words, the need to please you.

You violently shook your head. “He never made me cum.” You admitted. “He couldn’t do it. I always faked it too.” You felt guilty but it was the truth, he just couldn’t get you over the edge. A low chuckle came from Joel at your admission.

“Fuckin’ knew he was useless.” Joel grinded into you, his tone almost angry, his eyes were trained on your cunt. You looked down too and watched as his thick length repeatedly disappeared inside you. That familiar feeling deep inside began to build once more. Joel moaned also losing himself in the pleasure. “Mmm, gonna cum for me again aren’t you?” You moaned a mhm as a pathetic response unable to form your words. You reached out to grab onto the back of the sofa with one hand, the other pressed flat against the cushions to steady yourself. Your mind was dizzy with lust and desire as the band snapped and tingles coursed through your body. “See that, fuck babygirl, you can’t fake that, how tight your pussy grips me. Feels like heaven.” He groaned at how your cunt contracted around him tightly.

You watched Joel’s face as he slowed his pace to pull back a little. He lowered his head slightly and then spit onto your pussy, his saliva trailed down from your clit to your entrance. Joel groaned as he then fucked into you hard and fast. “Oh- oh my go- god!” You moaned out in breathy rasps.

“Looked so pretty at the bar, sugar.” Joel mumbled. “The way you were dancin’, knew I had to have you.” He continued, your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised. “Then that pathetic idiot got his hands on you, I could barely watch, nearly gave him a black eye right there.” Joel fully gave into his need and continued slamming his cock into you again and again.

Joel’s thrusts then started becoming sloppy, his rhythm was lost as his climax was closing in. “Fuck, doll, don’t think I’m gonna last much longer.” He pants, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Seeing him losing his control would probably have been enough to make you cum again. You placed a hand on the side of his neck and pulled him down closer you, his hand gripped your waist and his other pressed against the back of the sofa. The angle was perfect, causing you to become even tighter for him. A deep moan erupted from Joel as he was nearing his release. He removed his hand that was on your waist and brought his thumb to your mouth. “Open.” He ordered, and you obeyed, opening your mouth to allow his thumb inside. You sucked on it and he pulled it out with a pop. He began rubbing your clit with his wet thumb, your legs quivered from the contact.

You could tell Joel was trying to stop himself from spilling into you, but he didn’t need to hold on much longer as your own climax finally broke through. You couldn’t hold it in anymore and a string of pornographic moans came from you. Joel couldn’t last any longer either, the way your cunt squeezed him after your orgasm sent him over the edge. He too moaned loudly as his hips jerked while he unloaded himself deep inside you. He fell forwards slightly and used his hand that was pressed against the sofa to balance himself, Joel stilled momentarily to catch his breath before quickly pulling out.

Joel’s eyes were locked on your face, he thought you looked perfect. “I could watch this forever.” His gaze then broke and trailed down to your puffy cunt, cum was leaking out of your hole. He reached his right hand and his finger traced up and down smearing his juices all over. “You look so pretty like this, all fucked out an’ silly, and it’s all for me.”

You were still comprehending what had just happened when Joel bent down and placed a soft kiss to your temple. “You did so good for me, doll.” He praised, then he grabbed his pants and dressed himself. He shot you a wink and left you on the sofa dripping and fucked out of your mind. The front door quietly clicked shut and you heard the soft hum of his engine fade away.

Thank you for reading! 🖤

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#8: Must've Been Something Else Then (S3E16)

I adore this scene to the moon and back. 😍 It's at this moment that Rick officially lets Michonne know she's a part of the family. And of course, he does it with a dash of flirtation. 😋 Truly, this lovely scene feels like the earliest moment of the two hinting that there’s something oh so special between them...

I love the staging of the scene as it opens with Michonne looking up at Rick as he walks down the stairs. And there's just something sweet to me about the way they walk alongside each other in those color-coordinated outfits. 😊

It’s always commendable seeing that Michonne is so understanding of the difficult position Rick was put in with the Governor's deal about her. And it’s great that she directly addresses it rather than tiptoe around it.

Not only is Michonne understanding, but she’s still so completely on Rick's side and it shows how much she has always seen Rick for the good man he is. They trusted each other before they knew they trusted each other, I’ll say it over and over. 😊

And it’s nice that Rick gets to be met with compassion when so many other times characters have not given him this kind of genuine compassion.

Then it’s good to hear Rick give a sincere sorry for how close he came to giving her up. Michonne proceeds to do what she’ll do many times in their relationship and reminds him of the good in him when she tells him “But you didn’t.” She’s confident that giving her up is really not what Rick wanted, and she’s right.

Once they got past their initial sussing-you-out tension, Michonne really did become Rick's bond that flowed with the most ease of all the characters. And she built him back up at every turn, even here in season 3 by affirming he's still a good person.

It’s nice cuz I feel like Rick is a character who can take on a lot of guilt, so it’s great seeing another character so assuredly relieve him of guilt to remind him that he might make controversial choices but he’s not a monster.

(& I have a feeling in TOWL, Rick will again be wrestling with a lot of guilt since he feels like he "failed" at getting home, but fortunately, the one person who can most restore him and relieve his guilt is on her way to save him both literally and emotionally 🤗)

So Rick nods and then I love this silent little lingering look they have. The chemistry. 😏 I always think one of the cutest elements of Richonne's pre-canon days is the way they both so clearly feel this attraction to each other but are trying to keep it at bay - but like that passionate tension between them can’t help but seep out because...

And in this subtle lingering moment, you can feel that while Rick and Michonne are in the early stages of their relationship, something more is absolutely brewing between them underneath. Anytime they look at each other long enough, that becomes clear.

Then Michonne acknowledges she never thanked him which is kind that after everything with the Governor deal, she actually wants to thank Rick. And it's also nice cuz the first thing Michonne ever said to Rick was, 'I didn’t ask for your help.' So it shows she's had some growth since then to now want to thank Rick for the way he helped her. And he significantly helped her by bringing her into this new family.

Rick asks, "For what?" and Michonne says, “For bringing me out there that day. Taking me in.” And I know they’re talking about the initial day he brought her in but “taking me in” also feels like thanking him for the way he slowly brought her into the fold of their family.

I’ve always felt that part of the Clear run with just him and his son was Rick's attempt to really know that he could bring Michonne into the fam like he deep down wanted to. And I think Michonne knows that despite all his talk of sending her away, Rick really did continue to take her in more and more.

Also, I just like the wording of it cuz Rick’s eyes also always seem to be taking her in too, as he does in this very scene. 😋

Rick responds saying, “If you didn’t have that baby formula, I wouldn’t have.” And Michonne and us both know...

(Also I love that this early pre-canon scene features Rick and Michonne talking about the baby formula for their daughter 😋) 

And again, I love that Michonne doesn’t let Rick run from the good man he is when she looks at him and perfectly delivers the line, “You could’ve just taken the formula” It's true tho. And people like the Governor would have done just that. Michonne knows that in this world, what Rick did for her was a gracious act, and she doesn’t let him downplay it.

And then hearing Michonne say that is truly all it takes for Rick to drop the act and let her know that she’s right. I love how quickly he folds here. 😋 And why this moment makes this list is largely because of what Rick says next.

Cuz those Richonne tones make an appearance as Rick looks at her and just sends my heart soaring when he says, “Well, must’ve been something else then.” 

I hadn't happy danced in these Top 30 posts yet, but this line right here is gonna do it for me every time. 😋 Ahhhh, I adore this response and the delivery of it. This is such a classic line in Richonne's story. 👏🏽

It's so special, especially because after these 5 words, Rick really fully accepts Michonne and is never hostile to her ever again. Richonne's connection has been powerful and magnetic since they first laid eyes on each other, and this is the moment they stop actively resisting that undeniable connection. And from here on out, they never look back. They only grow more and more fond of each other until they fall head over heels in love.

Low key, if I could ask a fictional character from the show something, I’d be Iike, Rick, friend, what exact thoughts were going through your head when you said this line right here? Like...

Because no matter how I look at it, it just feels like it’s a moment of Rick deep down knowing something special draws him to Michonne.

I mean it’s factual to say the man is super attracted to her and, as I've often said, their love story was a slow burn but the attraction was instantaneous - so this line just felt like Rick coming close to telling on himself that he might like her more than he even understands at this early stage.

I love that there’s something flirty about the fact that Rick makes the statement more ambiguous. He’s not showing all his cards just yet, but he’s clearly okay with Michonne knowing at least “something” is there between them. 

I know my Richonne brain is going to see this as so romantic-coded, but even if I were to turn my Richonner side of me off, this still just feels really telling that Rick can sense deep down that Michonne is something special and that he has a unique connection to her.

I'm just looking at Rick in this telling scene like I definitely know you are feeling her, and since it's still early...

So I love the line but then I especially love Rick's reaction after he says it. 😊

To me, Rick's reaction after is almost more telling than the line. Because some would say the "something else" he was referring to was strictly Carl making the call, and that is definitely the larger aspect of it for sure, which is sweet in and of itself - but Rick's look after the line suggests that the "something else" really could have to do with his external and internal attraction to Michonne as well.

First Slick Rick looks down and then not so slickly tries to play off checking her out by looking up and around. Idk, if you ask me, I feel like something in him knows what that look down was about, and that’s why he so quickly tries to play it off by unsubtly looking every which way. Like what was on the ceiling that homeboy needed to look all the way up like this lol??

Y'all, all that looking around was because of "something else" between them, if I do say so myself. 😋

But then, as Rick often did at the beginning of his relationship with Michonne, he tries to play off his own liking of her by letting her know that his son also has grown fond of Michonne.

It's sweet to see Rick give credit to his son Carl, who is also Michonne's future son and bff, for making the call to bring Michonne in.

Rick tells her, "He said you belonged here." And I like how talking about Carl and baby formula for Judith makes this whole moment with Rick and Michonne feel even more familial. #DestinedToBeFamily.

And then I always loved that while Rick lets Michonne know it’s Carl who embraced her and made the call to bring her in, he then says, “You’re one of us.” 

He could have added, 'that’s what Carl said,' or whatever, but instead Rick says it as an outright statement because Carl isn’t the only one who thinks this. Rick knows it’s true that Michonne is one of them, and I love that he tells her this directly as something he also believes.

And, of course, it’s extra great knowing just how true the statement will become as Michonne becomes Mrs. Michonne Grimes, the invaluable and beloved Grimes family matriarch.

Michonne, who always can communicate so much even without words, just gives Rick a look in response to this, and I love the look.

Michonne is someone who can read people really well so I wouldn’t be surprised if in this exchange she somehow could read that the energy between them here is different.

Her look at Rick before she walks away is low-key giving...

Lol no but being for real, I am not saying Michonne or Rick are yet aware of their deeper feelings for each other at this point. And they’re definitely still in a healing stage from their past traumas that would prevent them from fully realizing that their ultimate love story is right in front of them.

It's just that Michonne's look suggested that somehow she sensed a little something between them, even if not yet cognizant of what exactly that something was.

And I mean, Rick couldn’t really ever hide that she has an effect on him so it's not like he was all that subtle - which I’m always here for whipped-out-loud Rick. 😋

I know Michonne also really appreciates receiving this ultimate seal of approval from Rick that she truly is a member of tf and a very valued member at that. She's officially home. And you just knew Rick and Michonne would remain united through thick and thin after this.

Then Michonne walks away after their lingering look and Rick silently watches her and I love the little entranced spell Michonne seems to always have on him. And the scene ends with Rick following in her direction, as he’ll do many times in their journey going forward. 😊

Y’all, this moment is just top-tier, and the spark between them was evident as early as s3. Like, you can't tell me this scene didn't shine a blinking neon sign that said Richonne’s story is a love story.

Season finales pretty much always ensured we were fed with great Richonne content and this is the first Richonne season finale, setting the tone for all the greatness to come. I love that Rick and Michonne always end each season closer.

This moment, with Michonne showing so much understanding and compassion, and Rick so willingly telling on himself by letting her know that on the kismet day the universe brought them together there was something else, something deeper, that led him to bring her in, is a wonderful contribution to their love story and a glimpse into what they will become to each other.

And I’ll forever be grateful that Rick and Michonne weren’t brought together just to be partners in crime but rather to be something else too - to be soulmates with the best possible love.🥰

[exhaustedcatte]

Are we doing this here? (yes)

Remus ran his sweaty palms over his suit, which did nothing to dry them off given that the material was very silky.

“My god, Lily, you should’ve asked someone else to sub in,” Remus muttered balefully.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, accent thick – it only ever came out when she was nervous. “You made bigger numbers than Susan when you filled in for her last time.”

“I wish I was knee deep in editing instead,” he said, just to keep the banter going.

Remus wasn’t mad about Lily asking him to fill in for her co-worker, mainly because the carpet they were on was for a Period Era film whose book had him crying for days. No, he was just very out of depth being in front of a camera and not a screen. Besides, this must be what people call Nepotism. Remus was simply an editor, who cuts clips out and makes a nice video out of it. Lily, who’d pulled strings to get Snarky little Remus Lupin out here, did so with the intention of getting him to do some networking.

“No, you don’t, not when Black will be here,” she replied knowingly.

She knew too much, honestly. Lily simply barked a laugh when he told her that.

He tried to settle his nerves by doing a headcount of the reporters on the carpet. He thought he might reach Nirvana once he’d counted upto the 90 mark, but his cameraman starts clicking the little button with such force, Remus is startled out of the ‘counting sheep to sleep’ method he was using.

“Oh my god,” Lily applied her lipstick hastily. “Remus! Remus that’s Dame Minerva McGonagall.”

He bit his lip, trying to contain his own excitement. “Who gets her?”

They were both under the same network, it would make no sense for both of them to interview her with similar questions.

“Do you… do you want it?” Lily asked.

Remus saw the generosity in her offering her role model to him. “Of course not, Lils. I was only pulling your leg.”

She punched his arm. “I was about to replace you with Frank.”

Remus’ cameraman, Frank Longbottom, popped his head from behind the huge camera, “Oh, piss off.”

Minerva strode into their section after getting her photographs taken. Remus stepped away in awe. He’d never been so close to anyone famous, well excluding his one boyfriend – who wrote three love songs about him and then dumped him after the songs blew up. They’d been together at the cusp of his fame. Remus squashed the thought of Caradoc Dearborn, the nation’s favourite Pop Artist, according to Daily Prophet.

“Miss Minerva,” Lily smiled brightly, “you look lovely. Might I know who you’re wearing?”

“Why, you look beautiful yourself,” the woman smiled. “This was a work of Pandora Lovegood.”

“It looks stunning,” Lily reiterated sincerely. She segued into her question smoothly with, “The pantsuit must’ve been easier to wear than traditional Victorian outfits, right?”

“Oh yes,” she nodded. “Many, many layers.”

“This film is also your comeback after two years, how does it feel?”

They’re lucky they secured the entry spot on the carpet, because the other interviewers are likely to ask the same questions as these actors progress down the line.

“It’s very special. I’ve known the director, James Potter, for a few years now and working with him has been lovely because he really eased me into it,” Minerva spoke fondly of James Potter and it was all but a miracle that Lily’s knees didn’t give out judging by the dizzy expression that overtook her smile when her celebrity crush was name dropped. (Remus knew Lily as well as she knew him, so it was never a disadvantage really.)

“The trailer also broke records, have you got any anecdotes to spare about scenes that have been revealed?”

Minerva pondered for a few. “I found it very difficult to chase Sirius around set when he thought dropping seeds on my hat was a good idea. I almost had a pigeon infestation on me.”

“Did you have to run in the gown?” Lily laughed good-naturedly.

Remus also had to hold back a snort at the vivid image of the Dame running behind Sirius Black and a flock of pigeons trailing her.

“Running after him was a personal choice, it wasn’t a shot for the movie,” the actress said primly, making everyone laugh again.

“I wish the movie great success, it was lovely meeting you,” Lily bade her goodbye.

Minerva smiled once again before heading over to the next reporter.

“How was I?” Lily asked.

“Good, but a touch too nervous maybe,” Remus offered honestly.

“Okay.” She spotted Slughorn making his way over to them and straightened, “It’s go time.”

The old veteran was suited up in boring grey slacks and a grey suit jacket with a plain white shirt under. Remus wished there were less boring men’s outfits on the carpet, at least then it’d make it interesting for him to edit these things, it would provide great gossip material.

Lily breezed through the next couple interviews, trying to shuffle her questions between them to make it less monotonous for both parties.

When Narcissa Malfoy finally sashayed away, Lily slugged half of Remus’ ginger lemon tea. “This thermos is god sent, the tea is so warm.”

“I know. It was Caradoc’s last christmas present. But it’s so good, I couldn’t justify throwing away just because he was a shit ex.”

“His money anyway,” Lily winked. Her voice sounded too hoarse.

“Want me to go?” Remus asked.

Her shoulders slumped, a bit relieved. “I would appreciate that.”

Remus steadied his mind, just a few questions and that’s all there was. You can do this, you got this, it’s just a few minutes and – Holy fucking god.

Marlene McKinnon stepped out of her car in a sequinned dress, thigh high slit and tall pumps.

Remus managed to snag her first out of the sea of interviewers.

“Good evening,” he smiled. “You look gorgeous, very old Hollywood.”

Her blonde hair was pinned up, lips painted blood red, mole under her eye, black sequinned dress glimmering in the flashes of the cameras.

“Thank you so much, but I have to thank Fortescue for this.”

Her ability to understand cues was very well appreciated by Remus.

“I must say, your role in the movie seems to be rather demanding psychologically,” Remus started off strong, “judging by the book and the trailer, of course.”

Marlene blinked away her surprise fast. Women were usually not asked about their character’s personalities very often.

“Harriet is a bit of a character,” she said eagerly. “She’s too strict on herself and clearly a bit emotionally constipated,” Marlene laughed.

“Was it difficult to recover from that kind of a role?”

“It was,” Marlene’s surprise bled into her voice. “Harriet’s strictness with herself often translated into her constantly picking herself apart so my confidence did see it’s ups and downs.”

“And she’s also Irish!“ Remus redirected towards something lighthearted. “How was working the accent for you?”

“I’m so used to London, it took a lot of work to get my pronunciation as close to a native as I could,” she admitted sheepishly.

Remus grinned, watch pulsating silently on his wrist. “Well, Harriet, I wont keep you long, for your duties call you elsewhere.”

“Wow,” Marlene laughed, “you’re better than Sirius, man!”

“I wouldn’t make it past auditions, Marlene,” he deadpanned.

She giggled. “Give yourself some credit. Sirius only remembered his dialogues when he had to whinge about me.”

Remus shifted back, on his hip, “Harriet, dear, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Marlene guffawed, “Oh, you’re good.” She waved as she was led away.

Remus didn’t get a refractory period when the next actor swarmed in.

After six successful interviews Remus started to loosen up. He managed to land a few jokes based on the knowledge of the actors and their characters.

“Are you the interviewer that Marls said I had to meet?”

Remus turned around.

Sirius Orion Black.

He was wearing proper Victorian attire. A ruffled white blouse, a midnight blue paisley vest with gold embroidery, charcoal slacks and tailcoat. His hair was tied back with a gold ribbon. God. He looked delectable.

Remus’ brain sent pure dumb into his head and he fish-mouthed. “You cut quite a figure in that suit.”

“It’s an Ollivander custom,” Sirius grinned, eyes shining. Oh, his smile. “I see you’re dressed to star alongside me too!”

Remus cracked a smile. No one had commented on his commitment to the part yet. He was also similarly in Victorian garbs, but he decided to take a simpler route by thrifting and sewing them himself.

“It’s a Remus Lupin special,” he said. After a pause, he motioned to himself, and added, “I’m Remus Lupin.”

“You’ve got quite the talent in suit making, Lupin. Want to make one for me next time?” Sirius leaned in close. Remus could smell the decadent notes of vanilla and coffee in his perfume.

“I’m not all that talented,” Remus said modestly. “I might be better at taking a suit off than putting it on you.”

What the hell am I doing? On Broadcast! Oh, he’s so fired. Lily pinched his arm from behind.

But Sirius Black grinned widely, very obviously looking him up and down, “You certainly have the permission.”

Remus smirked. “Alright now, let’s keep it media-friendly. Tell us, Sirius, you’ve taken on the role of Sir Fitzwilliam Grey, who is notoriously difficult. What was being such a frustrating man like?”

“Frustrating,” Sirius laughed. “He definitely was written well, but boy, he got on my nerves a bit.”

Remus also smiled, agreeing, “It’s true, the book almost made me pull my hair out.”

“You can pull my hair instead,” Sirius winked.

Remus swallowed, before smiling brightly. “Ah, but I don’t put out until the fourth date at least.”

Sirius snorted, “I was talking about braiding my hair.”

“Mm, either ways, I am good with my hands.”

Sirius hid his face in his palms, shoulders shaking with laughter. Remus felt proud of himself for making this man laugh. God, he looked really beautiful.

“So,” he cleared his throat at Frank’s pointed gaze. “James Potter is your best friend and this isn’t your first production together. But you mentioned this project was very close to you, why so?”

“I grew up in a family like Grey’s, so I could understand why he behaved the way he did – I was much like him until I met James. So now I’m not welcome home anymore,” Sirius snickered lightly. This news was known to the public for a while, but it was still a sore subject.

“You’re welcome to my home anytime,” Remus winked, trying to make it lighter on the viewers.

This time, Sirius actually blushed. “I’ll make a note of that.”

“Your first film was also a period era movie, was it nostalgic going back to your roots, in a sense?”

“A little. I was too nervous to experience everything the first time, so this felt like redemption,” Sirius said. Then he broke into a jive, “Redemption is leaving the man you dreamed of~”

Jesus. Caradoc Dearborn through the mouth of Sirius. But Sirius had a really nice voice, rich and robust.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I keep singing that song, must be because I’ve been hearing it a lot on the radio.”

“Yeah, me too,” Remus said stiffly. Lily snorted into her palm.

“Oh?”

“Er, my ex… he was a huge fan of, um, Caradoc Dearborn,” Remus felt his eye twitch.

“Oh.”

“He’s my ex,” Remus shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. If he left you, then he was probably a right Fitzwilliam Grey, eh,” Sirius giggled. “Or like, Earl Grey. A bit basic.”

“You’re right.” He leaned in a bit, heart jumping when Sirius mirrored his action. “I much prefer it Black.”

Sirius’ ears were slowly getting red, probably like his own. “Everyone likes black tea, Remus.”

“We all have good taste,” Remus nodded importantly, willing himself to stand his ground.

His watch beeped, breaking the moment. “Oh, we’ve run out of time. Have you got any last remarks?”

“I hope you watch the movie,” he said to the camera. “And let me know how it is,” he turned to Remus.

“Well, it has been a pleasure to talk to you Mr Black,” Remus smiled his professional smile.

“You too, Remus,” Sirius said softly. “I will see you sometime.”

That sounded like a promise if he’d ever heard one.

Sirius strode away, but Remus noticed him peeking back at where he was stood.

“What on Earth was that Remus?” Lily squealed. “How can we possibly use this footage?!”

“We can, I think. It’s guaranteed views, Lils,” Frank interjected.

Remus blushed. “Sorry, I don’t know what got over me.”

“Thinking with the wrong organ, most likely,” Lily muttered, but she sounded too fond and too impressed to be mad.

“Most likely,” Remus echoed, once again on the receiving end of The Sirius Black smile.

His phone rang six times before he even considered picking it up.

“Hey,” he croaked. “I met the deadlines and uploaded it yesterday evening.”

Lily, who had been pestering him to get the interview out before the movie’s first day, didn’t utter a word.

“Lils?”

“Have you seen the comments?”

Oh, god.

Remus sat up in his bed, blankets falling in a pool around his naked torso. “Should I?”

“Yes.”

He pulled up the video, and immediately was stunned by the 2.3 million views on it. “Holy shit?”

“Read the comments, lad.”

laralare: um id tap his ass too sirius, get in line

beyzoz: not in front of my saladfsusjro?!

flour: am i jealous of sirius or remus lupin?

patricknorth: 6.57 im gay now

gillian: look at the eYES sirius makes when remus mentions his ex!!

hollyhollyday: the blatant flirting?! jail. my single ass is sobbing at 2am

freyja: i like lupin. we need him on more carpets.

doorathea: sirius looks so hot, id hit too. so yeah, remus was just being gay, not unprofessional.

Remus laughed incredulously at the number of comments in support of this tomfoolery.

“Now, Remus, I want you to breathe and go on Twitter.”

“Lily!”

Twitter was flooded with trends. About Him. And Sirius. Together.

#remusirius

#sirius black flirting

#remus lupin

Remus found many tweets – mostly laughing at the pair and dissecting the interaction. But it had felt so natural even to Remus so he had left it in, thinking it was amusing. Clearly everyone agreed.

The topmost tweet however.

SiriusBlack:

Last night was one of my favourite nights ever. I hope tonight you all can enjoy the movie too. Dress victorian, thrift and sew your outfits, have some fun!(a borrowed idea) when in rome, do as the romans do, (or is when in remus more apt? lol) enjoy!!

Remus screamed into his phone, blushing at the innuendo.

“His publicist loves you or hates you.”

“Let’s hope she’s obsessed with me, because.”

“Uh oh, Remus. Remus, what are you doing?”

“Nothing!”

RJLupin: im going to the movie w my best friend this weekend.

SiriusBlack: oh he’s in my dms now

RJLupin: too presumptuous?

SiriusBlack: the right amount i think.

text me here– xxx

“Remus…?”

“Might’ve scored a date with Fitzwilliam.”

“Remus! Caradoc could never!”

Remus laughed.

(a/n: based on a prompt i saw on pinterest lol. can you tell i can’t flirt for my life. or that i have no idea how red carpets work? i wrote this at arse o’ clock, so please excuse the lack of research and feasible scenarios that went into this. i hope it put a smile on your face at least.)

[instexcamera]

hi sweetie! it’s 🐏 again. i’ve been so busy with college work i haven’t been around ~

i’ve been on.. well, you can say a shu brainrot again. while leo will always have my heart, i have a huge soft spot for pink characters (๑´·.̫ · `๑) esp if they’re meanies

i’ve been thinking of this one specifically scenario involving shu. imagine you’re a doll, his doll. a doll he was given/was made by him. he loves you as his doll, and takes good care of you like how he would take care of mademoiselle. but one day.. you come to life. yet, you aren’t a doll anymore. you’re a human, who looks exactly like his doll. with the same name, and the same face. he’s not sure if he should help you, or if he should give into his urges… as, well- your doll clothes are now too small for you to wear, as you’re now the size of a human girl. you’re a dumb girl too.. asking your master why this happened and if he can help you find some new clothes.. sigh~ whatever will he do? - 🐏

Hii 🐏 anon it's been a while! Your rambles are always so nice to see! Don't worry I've been busy too, luckily I should be free fairly soon (finally)

I've actually been thinking of Shu lately too, I want him to ruin me, I also accidentally made this longer than I thought

Ooo interesting, being a doll that Shu made, spoiled, and then one day coming to life? I imagine he may be too shocked at first, making you clothes he always wanted to see you in, and now it's even better because you can tell him much your truly appreciate him

Except he soon realizes your actually quite dumb, you of course knew you used to be his doll and belong to him but you can only vaguely recall your time spent with him. Every day he would have a onslaught of new questions, some to cute and having his mind wander. He'd most likely be disgusted at first but eventually give in. But he would never tell you, just sneaking glances at you wondering if what he wanted was right or not and how he would even go about asking you

Eventually you'd want to repay everything Shu has done and will do for you, having no income and living with Shu you'd be grateful. He would see this as the perfect opportunity, and once he revealed his fantasies you have no problem. He wouldn't immediately pounce on you, wanting to plan out a time, after he is not one to just give up on things he had planned

When he can finally have you he's too overwhelmed, wanting to try too many stuff with you for just the first time. He'd start out by tasting you, wanting to know if you would be just as sweet as he'd imagined. His tongue would be so good on you, having never felt such intense pleasure before he can have you cumming in his mouth within minutes

He doesn't want to tire you out before he can even truly get started so after your second orgasm he sinks himself in. You'd be just as tight and warm as he hoped, almost sucking him in. It would drive Shu insane. He hadn't imagined you'd feel this good around him. You'd be vocal too, not being used to these new sensations. Itd get to the point after your nth orgasm Shu would have to use his hand to cover your mouth, afraid one of his roommates hearing you

One thing he would be curious about though, is could he breed you? Shu would cum in you as much as his body would allow before he gave out, wondering if perhaps you could carry children. The answer is no sadly but that just means Shu can use you to his hearts content and never have to worry!

Shu would also use you as his model, letting you wear cute outfits but he would also put you in lingerie. Showing off your body in ways he loves, he would also use this as an excuse to feel you up, he would never let Mika touch you however

[taronfanfic]

Pause

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Dresses, skirts, tops, jeans, and even your favourite black jumpsuit that you wore on your first date with Taron had been pulled from the wardrobe and thrown into the reject pile on your bed. It didn’t matter what you picked, nothing felt right, nothing seemed to fit right or comfortably or made you feel ready for a night out with the girls. You missed the days where you lived close enough to Gemma to text her in a panic and have her appear with the perfect outfit in under 15 minutes.

“What time are you off?” Taron asked, peering his head around the doorframe and looking slightly horrified at the state of the bedroom.

“Whenever I’ve found something to wear. I’m already going to be late now.” You sighed in defeat as you sat at your mirror in your underwear. You’d given up on the clothes and done your hair and make-up instead, postponing the outfit decision until the last minute.

“Do you need me to try and help, or will telling you you look hot in everything make matters worse?” He offered cautiously.

“I know you’d be lying.” You replied as you moved back to the pile of clothes on the bed.

“I wouldn’t. You look hot now.” He was deliberate with his eyes as he drew them slowly up and down your body to admire your matching lingerie.

“Stop that, I believe you. But I need clothes to leave the house. Help?”

“Okay, let’s do this. The quicker I get you out, the sooner you’ll be back and then I can get my hands on you again.” He summarised his plan before placing his hands to your bum whilst he stood behind you and assessed the options before him. “I think black jeans, with that little top with the sleeves.”

“The off-shoulder lace one?”

“Mmmhm.”

“But it’s cropped, and I’m bloated.”

“No, you’re not.” His hands moved up to hug your stomach. “You’re perfect.”

“And due-on. Maybe something I can tuck in instead?” You could practically hear Taron filtering his thoughts carefully before he spoke another word. He’d fallen into the PMS shaped hole of pushing your buttons accidentally one too many times before and was doing his best to learn from past mistakes.

“The teal silky shirt. I like that one.”

“That goes better with my leather skirt.”

“Yeah? I like that too.” He kissed your shoulder softly.

“I suppose I could wear my knee-high boots with that too.” You thought aloud.

“Sounds good, do you want me to book you an uber?”

“Yes please, and grab my black coat from the cupboard downstairs?”

“On it.”

“Thank you, you’re the best, I love you!” You called out after Taron.

“I know!” He shouted back smugly.

***

As the car pulled up outside the bar you’d arranged to meet the girls at you thanked the driver and checked the time on your phone. You were only 15 minutes late. Taron had replied to your thank you text telling you to enjoy your evening and to let him know when you were on your way home, but knowing how evenings with the girls usually went it wasn’t going to be an early finish.

You clocked the three of them sat in a curved booth at the side of the bar, already deep in conversation with a drink in hand, and smiled to yourself when you noticed the spare glass waiting for you.

“Does that cosmo have my name on it?” You announced your arrival and slid into the end of the booth next to Charlotte.

“It’s all yours.” Gemma confirmed. “How are you?”

“Yeah, all good thanks. What about you lot? What have I missed?”

“Not much at all. We were just saying it’s been quiet since New Year’s Eve and that you getting us all here was a nice surprise actually.”

“Glad to be of use. Cheers!” You picked up your cocktail and initiated a toast across the table. “But there might just be a teeny tiny reason why I’ve got you all here too…” You teased and looked around everyone to see the confusion fall to their faces.

“Oh come on, don’t leave us hanging!” Rosie was the first to break the silence.

“So, we’ve got a date in mind for the wedding, and I wanted to ask you all to be my bridesmaids!” You couldn’t help but squeal along in delight as they celebrated your announcement with as many screams as Taron had predicted.

“Yes, Y/N, this is amazing news and about bloody time too!” Charlotte took hold of your hand before changing her mind and pulling you in for a hug.

“So I take it that was a yes to being bridesmaids?” You couldn’t stop smiling.

“As if we’d say no!” They somehow replied in unison.

“Good! Right, I’m going to get us a bottle of prosecco to celebrate.”

You looked back over your shoulder as you waited at the bar to be served and knew that you were on for a great night now the girls were as full of wedding excitement as you had been for the last week. Somehow you could also picture them stood at the end of the aisle in their burgundy dresses, bouquets in hand, looking back at you as you walked forward to marry Taron. It made you shake your head as you went on to picture them drunkenly tearing up the dancefloor and ordering shots for the bride and groom, exactly as you’d done for Charlotte’s wedding 2 years ago. Karma was going to hit bad!

“Oh my god, we need to organise the hen-do!” Rosie though aloud as you topped up her prosecco glass once the bubbles had subsided. “We should do a full-on girl’s holiday. A week away, sun, sea, se-”

“Sangria.” Charlotte interjected quickly whilst flashing her own wedding ring.

“Boring! It’s rubbish being newly single when your mates are all taken. Gemma, can’t you split up with Ryan so we can go out and have some fun? You can get back with him after.” She joked.

“Aw, I’d love to, but I think I might have actually found a keeper at last. I know it’s still early days, but I don’t want to fuck this one up.” Gemma looked over to you and Charlotte for advice.

“Are you at 6 months yet?” You asked.

“Almost. It feels like so much longer though, it’s scary. It feels so different to anything I’ve had before too.” She admitted coyly.

“No, that’s a good thing. Tell Ryan he’s got a wedding invite now so he can’t go anywhere until at least mid-October, but preferably he sticks around for good!”

“I’ll pass the message on.” Gemma grinned. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“October wedding? I love that, it’ll be so autumnal and colourful.” Charlotte chipped in, ready to discuss all the tiny details before Rosie interjected.

“Ibiza in September for the hen! Chill on the beach in the day, get dressed up and hit the clubs at night. Y/N’s always been our party girl so let’s give her a good send-off.”

“I’m not dying!” You laughed.

“I’d actually be up for that.” Charlotte surprised you with her answer. “I could do with a full-on break from responsibilities and go back to the nostalgia of our youth.”

“I’m in too.” Gemma added. “We’ve not had a girl’s holiday in forever.”

It suddenly felt like a week away in Ibiza had been agreed on before you could discuss any other options. You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t sound amazing. You’d come back with a perfect sun-kissed glow for the wedding and have stories to tell Taron for weeks, but you’d also come back in debt. You knew in your gut that Taron would be sensible about his stag and keep it low-key, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle the guilt of splashing the cash without him. This absolutely needed to be a compromise and if you didn’t say something now it would only spiral.

“It sounds great, but there’s one small problem.” You added cautiously, conscious of not killing the mood of the night. “I really don’t have the budget for that, and there’s no way I’m asking any of you to cover my costs or loan me money. I’m totally up for clubs, drinks, dancing and chilling out, but can we think more long-weekend city spa break please?”

“Oh, really? I bet we could get a good deal on the flights.” Gemma tried to persuade you. “Plus going when the kids all go back to school halves the cost!”

“Yeah, we should at least research it and find some options first.” Charlotte added.

“Argh, I’m sorry, but I honestly can’t. We’ve just spent a fortune on the house and the wedding is maxing everything out again. It’s so tight as it is. I probably shouldn’t have even bought that prosecco. I’m going to try and get some overtime at work to help, because living like this is so frustrating.” You let your head fall into your hands.

“It’s ok, Y/N. Don’t stress, we can scale back and organise it all and still make sure it’s great. Give us a figure and we’ll stick to it.” Charlotte reassured you and the girls nodded in agreement.

“You sure?”

“Y/N it’s fine. It’s your hen-do so we’ll go with whatever you want to do.” Rosie had calmed her excitement. “I just got carried away.”

“It’s very easy to dream up a hot Mediterranean man to have sex on the beach with in Ibiza.” Gemma lightened the tone by lowering it.  

“What’s the Spanish version of the name Ryan?” Rosie teased.

“Probably not as weird as the Spanish version of Taron” Gemma fired back in your direction.  

With that your night returned to the normal level of teasing, banter, jokes and gossip and you were left with a calmer feeling. They were your girls for a reason and they’d always have your back.

[revlischarm]

Behold, Morro for season 4 in the Lego Monkie Kid au!!

Below the cut I’ve put some details about the season, as well as their design.

• So, Morro gets trapped in the scroll along with everyone else!! Inspired by what one of my friends on discord mentioned, apparently the scrolls work for all memories, not just for recording JTTW stuff.

• Therefore. We’re gonna get some Morro trauma. Since the scroll can put you in the worst memories you had/in some kind of past life, I thought, “what better than to hurl Morro back into his misdeeds as a ghost?”

- That’s why when Morro’s in the scroll, he’s gonna be walking around in his old gi from the show. I didn’t give him a cloak or anything for the sole reason of me having a hard time drawing it

• Boy oh boy Morro absolutely hates having to be dressed in the robes of his past. He’s been trying to move away from what he did, to forge his own identity and life. Yet now he gets put right back where he was, at the peak of his darkest times, and MK and Mei end up bearing witness to it, no less!

• Long story short Morro just. Is going to be miserable this whole season. Their past got dredged up in such a messy way for all to see.

• I don’t wanna give away too much since this post is mainly just for Morro’s season 4 design, hehe.

• You want more info?? Send in asks! I will devour them and answer back dutifully.

• Now onto design talk, tw for some blood stains and detailed description of death for a bit

• The only details I’ll really say for Morro’s scroll design are that his outfit is fairly burnt and torn up in many places, due to how he died. Well, more so the condition his clothes were in when he passed away.

- The front of Morro’s gi is stained with dried blood because of how he died, which I personally believe to be due to the kethanol gas in the Caves of Despair. There’s more info about it on the wiki, but the effects I’ve given to it basically are that prolonged exposure will cause someone to bleed out, with blood coming from the nose and mouth and the eventual exsanguination is the cause of death. So yeah, you just. Drown in your own blood, can’t get enough actual air and asphyxiate, bleed out, etc. The gas can kill you in a number of ways I’d say

• Moving past all that…Morro gets longer ribbons now!! He added on a new ribbon, since he bonded with Red Son at the end of Season 3, and off-screen between the last season and this one, lol. Think of their friendship as…fanning the flames. They kinda just hype each other up and it’s very chaotic.

• Morro actually trains with Macaque to learn some shadow magic!! They’re super interested in learning teleportation via shadows because it’s cool as hell, and they just generally like to spend time with Macaque. After some time, Morro finds that his eye markings are getting kinda…larger and discolored.

- Surprise the universe/gods saw Macaque taking in Morro and went “oh successor??? The Six-Eared Macaque has a successor??” And long story short, after an initial bout of extreme panicking, Morro realizes that he’s now got some cooler new markings!!

- Yes, I’m contractually obligated to change Morro’s eye markings with each new design at this point, lay off me

- I’m very happy with this marking design tho!! It looks very nice and is easy for me to draw. The markings actually manifest themselves in the way of like…scar stuff. And I tried to have them resemble Morro’s actual cursed markings as much as I could, but it was hard to do that when it kept veering into flame territory (which I wasn’t aiming for). So yeah!

- I also added a little chart at the bottom to demonstrate the differences between the markings and also how Macaque’s and Morro’s purples are different. Mac’s is more on the blue hued scale, while Morro’s has more pink tones to it. There!

• And last but not least, the tail(s) of Morro’s sash got longer!! I did this for the purpose of giving their silhouette a more monkey-like appearance, with the longer sash acting as a sort of faux shadow tail. This works great for any silhouette shots!

• So yeah! That’s that! Feel free to ask anymore questions, I’ll be glad to answer!!!

• Oh also I forgot to draw it in but you know how everyone else gets a cool weapon during season 4 from the scroll? Yeah, Morro’s taking the memory of the Sword of Sanctuary with him.

[ilovethewaleses]

But is she putting in as much effort as she used to? I’ve never seen so many illfitted trousers on her as I’ve seen the past few weeks (today and the beige ones are the worst). And wearing Burberry today was a weird choice given the content of the engagements, considering their clothes isn’t even made in the UK. Her team would’ve been much more on top of that in the past. I think she wants to portray a certain look but whether she likes it or not what she wears is important too.

But I will say, William is worse. He shows up in wrinkly clothes almost every day, and he seems to have forgotten where his ties are most days. Receiving guests in Windsor Castle not even wearing an business suit was a real low point for him. The media and royal watchers just forget the men and don’t have the same kind of expectations on them.

I don’t know if you’ve seen their staff but some of them dress so bad even on official engagements, like I’ll never forget one of their engagements during the coronation week when one of their staff showed up in cargo pants. I think their office in general became too casual during the pandemic and they haven’t regained what they had before that (the pandemic overall was really detrimental to their office, I think they lost too many staff members at the same time so there’s too many newish ones there, see how awful their social media has been the past few years (the last few weeks have been much better though)).

Umm... what?? Sorry anon but I do not agree with much of this.

Catherine has worn a wrinkly outfit probably one time that I can remember in recent years. It was Wimbledon and when I saw it on tv, you couldn't even tell. Even if I haven't liked an outfit, every single outfit she has practically EVER worn has been completely appropriate. Yes she's had a few wardrobe snafus here and there but as one of the most photographed women in the world under an intense microscope, she is of course going to have a few of those.

What she wears is important, you're right. Which is why she is always beautifully turned out with well-fitting clothes appropriate for the occasion. She looks completely professional. There's nothing "not princess-like" about wearing trousers, unless we're still stuck in the 1950s. I think what it is is people got used to her dresses and when she's been changing it up, people don't know what to do with themselves... lol. She goes out and does these engagements in nice clothes and then when it comes to the big royal events, she wears very "princessy" clothes and tiaras and jewels. She's been at this for 12 years, she is going to go through lots of different clothing eras. She's experimenting, she's trying a new look, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. I am incredibly confused how somehow putting on a dress = effort but putting on a three piece suit does not... there is nothing ill-fitting about this look at all to me 🤷🏼‍♀️ And one quick google search tells me that Burberry is made in multiple locations including the UK.

I also... don't care what their aids or staff are wearing lol. And I don't think their social media is awful, either. In fact, I think it's been pretty great these past few months.

[toomx]

Ted Lasso 3x06 Thoughts

First off, I stayed up way too late to watch this for someone with places to be in the morning but wtv 🤷‍♀️

Am I going to watch it again later? Yes, it’s just that good.

MEGA SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT, I PROMISE

First off, staying in the houseboat of a strange man in a strange country is wildly unsafe, but that’s Rebecca’s (bad) choice to make. Also, did the psychic not say something about drowning or swimming or something???

He seems nice and all but me, personally, I would not spare a second thought for a bald man with a foot fetish. But I mean, get it queen.

Keeley and Jack seem to be actually fleshing out a relationship and I’m very excited to see how it goes. Especially with Roy and even Jamie

Higgins’ marriage could never have problems wbk, but I must admit I was a tad bit concerned with all his talk of the red-light district.

If I was Will Kitman and upon being told I was going to “become a man” an entire team of people said “nah” I’d enter my villain era. But again, get it king. (I love that he told his mother about having a/getting invited to a threesome. I like to think he had one but that’s just me.)

This episode turned me into a Roy/Jamie liker. I’m sorry, there’s no hope for me now, they’ve given me too many gay people and I no longer know how to behave.

In all seriousness, James Tartt Sr. Better sleep with both eyes open cause when I find him... oh boy.

Also Jamie teaching Roy how to ride a bike made me cackle

Only my favourite himbos would spend their entire time in Amsterdam trying to agree on something to do in Amsterdam. And I absolutely adore the fact that a bunch of grown men decided the best course of action was to have a pillow fight.

Ted wandering around Amsterdam under the general impression that he’s just done drugs, only to wind up at the Van Gogh Museum, have a meaningful conversation about sunflowers, go to an American restaurant, hallucinate Nate Shelley as a cowboy (which was a jumpscare btw), hallucinate some more about triangles , then suddenly be a football coach genius was everything I didn’t know I needed.

Last but not least, the crème de la crème, the Colin and Trent plot line.

As much as I loved Trent’s outfit, I think he needs a stylist cause 🧍‍♀️

The sheer amount of times i’ve recited “I know, I’ve known for months, I haven’t told anyone, I must have a reason for that mustn’t I?” is crazy. (I wrote the word ‘must’ in class today and sent myself off again)

Also, the fucking (silent) scream I scrumpt!!!

Good day to be a Queer Trent Crimm Truther I must say

When I tell you I had to pause and walk around my room to prevent myself from screeching

Also, I would like to know what Trent’s plan was exactly cause he decided “Yeah! I’ll follow Colin to a gay bar and come up behind him! He’ll love and appreciate that!”

Colin’s spiel made me cry ngl

Richmond singing on a bus!!! Life is good! Great even!

[ask-hannah-blog]

I got this sent to me last year when I was on normal pills. Omg remember that? 😂😂😂

Anywho just thought it would be a fun read.

“I just want to thank my boyfriend for being so supportive and encouraging me to share my story, and advocate for normal pills

When my boyfriend met me I was a mess. I was a blonde bi-sexual camgirl and fetish model. So cringe! I had these big disgusting breasts, pierced nipples, and tattoos all over. I was so lost, I’m ashamed to have ever lived like that.

Then a little over a year ago I met my boyfriend, who convinced me to start taking normal pills. I don’t remember how they came up, but they’ve changed my life!

Thanks to them I started to feel shame when I cammed, and kissing my girlfriend started to make me nauseous and uncomfortable. I wasn’t dating my boyfriend at this point, but he told me that shame is good because it tells girls when they’re doing something wrong.

That first month was really painful. I had to break my girlfriend’s heart because I had thought I was a lesbian. And I just couldn’t stand to be on camera in those shameful outfits it was so inappropriate! So I was broke and alone.

Lucky my boyfriend was there to save me. Can you imagine, taking mercy on damaged goods like me? I’d mean he’d seen me in all those tasteless outfits when I was whoring myself out, and he still let me live with him.

He’s been so good for me. I have a real job now, with insurance! I work as a data input clerk, it’s such good work. I get to sit in front of a computer all day, and hardly have to move or think! It’s embarrassing because my boyfriend has to limit how many hours of overtime I get to take otherwise I wouldn’t be there to make his dinners at all.

I didn’t have any work clothes at the start, it’s so silly I remember crying when he made me throw out my old wardrobe! But none of it was suitable for a young professional. It was all heels and booty short, and band shirts. Now I can’t imagine being seen in anything less than my turtleneck, long skirt, hose and loafers. Modest sensible clothing for a proper young lady. Men hardly even look at me anymore! I’m all his.

The distracting blonde hair is gone too thank goodness. The pills have given me a proper h head of dull black hair. It’s delightful, especially once my boyfriend started cutting it himself. He says my old hair dresser was trying to make me took sexy *Shivers* she he started giving me bowl cuts. 🥰 They’re so bland and unattractive!

Obviously my tattoo’s all faded away. So the free removal was nice, not that anyone sees my skin anyway. But I like not having those reminders there.

Unfortunately my breasts are still big and fake. Supposedly they’d shrink if they were real, but I just had to be a slut! So I’m stuck with these awful reminders. I try to bury them under my clothes when I can, so no one will be distracted by how gross they are. I hate them and my boyfriend helps me punish myself for having them a lot. You know by tying them up, and slapping them, tugging on the rings. They’re dirty!

So as you can see it’s been an amazing journey! I know Normal pills get a lot of bad rep for surpressing you libido but it’s just not true. We just won’t sleep with strangers. Trust me the sex with my boyfriend has been phenomenal! I come home very day from work soaking! Gosh I shouldn’t say that on here but my boyfriend wants me to be honest. So yeah, after I’m done folding laundry I’m about ready to burst! So sex drive isn’t a problem!

So yeah! That’s my story, and I’m proud of it! I recommend every try normal pills if they can. I’ve never felt better, I’ve never felt more NORMAL!”

I mean to me she sounds like these people out here harassing me for being a clown an fabulous. They must all be on normal pills to not be in love with me!