#if you've messaged me I WILL get back to you I've just been low on brainpower sorry✌️

[ministarfruit]

so much more than crashing out‼️

[marvelseries19]

RETURN TO YOU

Chapter Four - Castaway

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter Four | Chapter five |

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x female agent reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: You’re finally found. After years lost and alone, a faint signal is enough to bring someone to your island. You're brought home, weak, scared, and unsure if it’s real.

A/N: Finally, the moment you've been waiting for. I'm not entirely sure if this should be the end. I kinda have more ideas to tell, but maybe I'll post those as like one-shots or something. I wanted to thank you guys for letting me know that you liked it. I don't think I've ever had this much engagement on my fics. I really appreciate the love this one has had.

On another note, in the last chapter, I asked if you read this, and by this, I meant these messages, I leave here, not the chapter. So, once more, do you guys read these messages?? Also, as always, any questions, requests, ideas, and feedback are all welcome. Enjoy :)

Warnings: +18, descriptions of injuries and such.

Word count: 4.4k+

[You do not have permission to repost or translate any of my stories or claim them as yours.]

The low hum of the SHIELD operations room barely registered as Maria Hill leaned over the dim console. The soft, rhythmic blinking on the screen in front of her was steady, consistent — unmistakable. A signal. Faint, primitive, but deliberate. Her fingers flew across the keys as she opened a secure channel.

"Get me Director Fury," she said, her voice low but urgent.

The line crackled before his voice came through, rough and clipped. "What have you got?"

Maria didn’t look away from the screen. "A signal. Old-school. Someone stripped a Quinjet transponder and spliced it into basic field tech. It’s broadcasting on an early SHIELD frequency — nothing sophisticated, but it’s clean. Repeating."

"That’s a long shot," Fury replied.

"Not if it’s her," Maria said, and there was something unshakable in her tone. "And I believe it is."

There was a pause. She could almost hear him weighing it in silence. Her eyes stayed on the blinking pattern, steady as a heartbeat.

"It’s the captain."

Fury’s silence stretched again — longer this time, heavier.

"You always did trust her instincts more than anyone else," he said eventually.

"She earned that trust," Maria murmured. And she remembered — the smoke, the fire, the chaos.

Kandahar.

—

The sky was dust-streaked and orange, gunfire painting the air in bursts. Agents scattered, wounded, shouting. No one had orders. The comms were fried. And then you appeared — ash-streaked, limping, blood on her sleeve, and calm in her eyes.

“We lost comms!” someone had yelled. “Do we pull back?! Where’s the fallback point?!”

Maria remembered how you didn’t hesitate. She remembered the way you moved — forward, always forward — as if gravity bent toward your conviction.

"With me," you said. That was all.

Two words.

And twenty agents followed you without looking back.

Maria hadn’t said it aloud that day — but someone else had. A younger recruit, clutching his rifle and running to keep up: “Captain’s got us.”

The name stuck.

—

Maria exhaled softly, her eyes never leaving the console. "She pulled twenty agents out that night. Half of them wouldn’t be here without her," she said quietly.

"Is she still alive, Hill?" Fury asked.

"She sent that signal," Maria replied. "I know it's her, and that’s all I need to know."

"Take a team," Fury ordered. "Get her back."

Maria was already on her feet. "Already working on it."

She shut the console off, leaving the weak, blinking signal behind — but only for a moment.

She would follow it. All the way to the end.

—

The quinjet dipped below the clouds like a shadow cutting through the sky, its engines whisper-quiet over the dense canopy below. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting streaks of gold and fire across the endless stretch of green.

Maria stood near the loading ramp, arms crossed, eyes scanning the horizon as if she could will the trees to part and reveal a miracle.

She’d barely slept on the flight over, fingers tight around the datapad that showed the narrowing coordinates. Each pass of the satellite brought them closer. Each sweep of the low-band signal narrowed the window.

Still, it felt like a dream.

Three years.

Three years with no trace.

Three years of dead ends, quiet funerals, and trying to help Natasha through a grief Maria shared but didn’t dare speak aloud.

And now this.

A single echo. A half-broken signal from a beacon no one was supposed to remember how to use.

She hadn’t told Natasha. Couldn't. Not yet.

Hope, Maria had learned, was dangerous when it burned too bright. And she wouldn’t be the one to light it unless she was sure. She had seen firsthand what it did to her friend , how it tore her apart each time a lead turned out to be false. Maria needed more than a faint signal to give Natasha false hope.

The quinjet hovered over the narrowed location, nestled between cliffs and jungle, and the team fast-roped down in practiced silence. Maria followed, landing with a solid thud against the uneven earth.

It was still. Too still. But the readings didn’t lie. Someone was here.

She signaled for the group to split. “Fan out. Sweep the perimeter. Eyes sharp. Weapons down unless you see a threat.”

A chorus of affirmatives crackled through comms.

They moved.

Not far away, tucked in the hollow between two rocks and overgrowth, you stirred.

The sound had been faint — a low thrum, like distant thunder.

It came again, closer this time.

You sat up slowly, your body protesting every movement. Your limbs ached. Your head spun. Your skin had taken on the leathery feel of too much sun and too little water. The weakened body you lived in now barely resembled the one that once trained at SHIELD’s academy. The one that flew the quinjet with quiet confidence. The one that could disappear without leaving a trace.

You had survived.

But barely.

You blinked hard, pressing your fingers to your ears.

Voices.

Were those voices?

You crouched low, instinct taking over even as your knees buckled beneath you. The sound of boots brushing leaves. A sharp rustle of brush being moved aside. You bit the inside of your cheek.

It’s nothing. You’ve imagined things before. You’d seen shadows become people. Branches become outstretched hands.

But the voices were growing louder now. Clearer.

“Check the cliffside—Hill’s got east.”

“There’s a trail here—looks like something’s been walking through.”

“Signal strength increasing. It’s close.”

No. No, that was real. That wasn’t just your mind trying to comfort you again. That was real.

Still, your body didn’t move. Not yet.

You sat frozen, heart pounding, as footsteps closed in.

And then—

“Hey!” a voice called. Not a hallucination. Sharp. Solid. Commanding. “I’ve got something—!”

Then another voice. Lower. Familiar. Too familiar.

“Stand down, it’s her—God—” The foliage parted, and there she was.

Maria.

Your mind couldn’t process it all at once. She was wearing tactical black, hair pulled back, eyes scanning like she didn’t dare believe what she was seeing.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything—but nothing came out.

Maria dropped to her knees, her voice thick and trembling. “Hey, hey—it's okay. It's me. I’ve got you.”

You blinked again, too weak to flinch as her hands gently framed your face.

Her breath caught. “Jesus… you’re really here.”

You tried to speak, lips cracked, throat dry. Only a rasp escaped.

Maria shook her head, a soft curse under her breath. She slipped an arm around your shoulders, guiding a canteen to your lips. “Don’t talk. Just drink.”

The water stung going down, but you drank like you hadn’t in days.

Because you hadn't. Rainwater could only last for so long.

Maria kept holding you, one hand steadying the canteen, the other pressed lightly against your back as if reassuring herself that you were solid. Real. Not another ghost.

And then she whispered, almost like she didn’t want anyone else to hear, "I'm so sorry it took this long.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You didn’t want to cry. Not yet. Not when it felt like the moment could vanish if you blinked.

But Maria didn’t rush. She stayed there with you in the dirt, surrounded by jungle, brushing a hand gently through your tangled hair.

“You’re safe now,” she said softly. “We’re taking you home. I’m gonna make sure of that. And I’ll tell her—I’ll tell Natasha.”

You didn’t know if it was the relief or her voice, but that’s when the sob broke free.

And Maria, strong as ever, just held you tighter.

The team moved quickly once they found her.

You were conscious, your body trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline as they guided you through the undergrowth. The sight of the quinjet waiting on the shore hit you harder than expected.

Your steps faltered.

The air caught in your throat.

It looked almost exactly like yours—the one that went down in flames, the one that left you stranded and alone. Your chest tightened, breath hitching, muscles locking up as memories flashed behind your eyes. Fire. Smoke. The sound of metal tearing. The impact.

You stopped walking.

“Hey,” Maria’s voice was calm and soft. She stepped in front of you, eyes steady, hand gentle on your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. We’re taking you home.”

You shook your head weakly, barely audible when you said, “I can’t… I can’t get on that thing. I know it’s stupid, but—”

“It’s not stupid,” Maria cut in, her voice rough with emotion. “After what you’ve been through, it makes perfect sense.”

Your eyes were glassy, full of apology and fear you couldn’t quite name. “I want to go. I just… I can’t.”

Maria glanced at the medic nearby, nodding once.

“We’ll help you sleep through the ride, okay?” she said, already crouching down with her. “No pain. No panic. You’ll wake up at the medical facility. Safe. I promise.”

You gave her the faintest nod, your fingers still gripping Maria’s sleeve like an anchor.

Maria stayed close as the medic prepped the injection, gently brushing damp hair back from your forehead. “You did so good, alright? You held on. We’ve got you now.”

The sedative took hold quickly, easing your breathing as your eyes fluttered shut. Maria caught you carefully as she slumped forward, guiding her into the medic’s arms and onto the stretcher.

And as the engines spun up and the quinjet lifted into the sky, Maria sat beside you, phone already in her hand, staring down at Natasha’s name on the screen.

It was time.

The quinjet hummed around her, steady and familiar. Maria sat strapped in beside the stretcher, her eyes drifting to you every few seconds — as if making sure she was still there, still breathing, still real.

You looked so small.

So fragile.

And it shook Maria more than she wanted to admit. This woman, who once sparred with her until both of them limped off the mat laughing… This woman who had stood beside her through firefights and missions no one else could have survived… Now she lies wrapped in blankets, sedated, ribs visible under her skin, lips cracked from dehydration.

Maria swallowed hard. She stared at the screen for a long second before finally pressing the contact.

The call connected after two rings.

“Maria?” Natasha’s voice came out sharp, tight. Tired. Like she’d been running or not sleeping again. “Is something wrong?”

Maria’s breath caught. “Natasha…”

Something in her tone made Natasha go completely still on the other end.

“We found her,” Maria said softly.

Silence.

“I need you to meet me at the SHIELD medical facility in New York. We’re bringing her in now. She's alive, Nat. She's—she's not in good shape, but she’s alive.”

Natasha didn’t answer at first. Just a breath — hitched, broken — and then, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve got her right here with me.” Maria looked over again, lowering her voice instinctively. “She held on. Three years, and she never gave up.”

There was a long pause. When Natasha spoke again, her voice cracked.

“I’ll be there.”

—

The city blurred past the tinted windows of the SUV, but Natasha barely saw any of it.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the seat so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Every red light felt like a personal attack. Every second that passed without her at that facility made her heart pound harder in her chest.

You were alive.

Alive.

It didn’t feel real.

She had imagined this moment too many times — always in dreams, in cruel fantasies her mind would conjure when sleep finally took her. But this wasn’t a dream. Maria had called her. Maria had sounded shaken. That never happened.

Alive.

Natasha’s breath caught again, her throat tight with something she couldn’t name — hope, disbelief, fear. She didn’t even realize tears had started to run down her cheeks until they hit her jaw. She didn’t wipe them away.

Three years.

Three years of not knowing. Of waking up and reaching for someone who wasn’t there. Of closing her eyes and hearing your laugh, only for silence to greet her. Of rage. Of grief so heavy it felt like a second skin.

And now… you were back.

But at what cost?

She kept replaying Maria’s voice in her head. Not in good shape. Those four words sliced deeper than anything else. Natasha had seen the aftermath of war. She had seen what being stranded did to a person, physically and mentally.

What if you didn’t remember her? What if the pain of those years had buried the part of you that knew her name? What if the reunion she’d dreamed of — clung to — was nothing like the reality waiting for her?

The driver turned sharply, and Natasha gritted her teeth, leaning forward.

“How much longer?”

“Five minutes, ma’am.”

Not fast enough.

She closed her eyes. Forced herself to breathe. One hand unconsciously reached for the ring still looped through the chain around her neck — your ring — warm now from her skin.

She didn’t know what she’d find when she walked into that facility.

But for the first time in three years… she had something to walk toward.

You.

—

The quinjet touched down with a soft thud on the rooftop pad of the SHIELD medical facility.

Before the engines had fully powered down, the med team was already waiting — gurney prepped, portable monitors ready, gloved hands reaching for the ramp before it even dropped.

Maria stood to the side, out of the way but not detached. Her jaw was clenched, arms crossed tightly over her chest, as if holding herself together. She hadn’t said much since the sedation. Only that she’d call Natasha again once they landed. But she didn’t need to. The call had already been made. Natasha would be here soon. She knew it.

The second the hatch opened, the team surged forward.

You were still unconscious — sedated, peaceful in the worst way. Your skin looked pale under the harsh facility lights, your body far too light as they transferred you to the gurney. The bruises, the cuts, the ribs pressing too close to the surface — it was all too visible now.

Monitors were clipped to your finger, an oxygen mask gently pressed to your face, and soft commands echoing between the medics:

“Get her on fluids, stat.”

“We need a CBC and a full metabolic panel.”

“Chest X-ray, abdominal ultrasound.”

“She’s dehydrated; start with normal saline, keep it slow.”

The medics disappeared down the hall with you, swift and practiced, the sound of their shoes a controlled blur of movement.

Natasha had just stepped into the hallway when she saw them roll the gurney past.

She stopped mid-step.

Time halted.

You.

There. Real.

But not awake. Not smiling. Not whole.

Her hand went to the wall to steady herself. Her breath left her in a sharp, silent exhale. She couldn’t move.

Maria stepped in beside her, watching the hallway where the doors had just swung closed behind the gurney. “She’s stable. Vitals are holding. They’ll take care of her.”

Natasha didn’t speak. Her eyes hadn’t moved from that door.

A nurse came around the corner holding something small and delicate in a gloved hand. She looked between them before gently addressing Natasha.

“She was wearing this,” she said softly, offering the chain.

Natasha reached out slowly, her hand trembling as she took it.

Your ring. Still looped through the chain she gave you three years ago.

She held it tightly in her fist, pressing it to her lips like a prayer.

Maria watched her quietly. “She survived,” she whispered, more to herself than to Natasha. “She actually survived.”

Natasha’s voice cracked when she finally spoke, low and hoarse. “She wasn’t supposed to.”

Down the hallway, machines beeped. Doors swung. A medical team did everything they could to stabilize you — rehydrate, monitor, and evaluate. You didn’t stir, but you were alive.

That was all that mattered.

For now.

It felt like hours.

The sterile hallway never changed, but Natasha hadn't moved from that same spot. She leaned forward in the plastic chair, elbows on her knees, fingers still curled around the chain holding your ring. The weight of it was nothing — and everything.

Maria had stayed close, pacing occasionally, making a few quiet calls, but mostly giving Natasha space. There were no words left to say.

Finally, a doctor emerged from behind the double doors. He looked tired but calm.

“She’s stable. Fluids are working, and her bloodwork came back cleaner than we expected. Malnourished, yes. Exhausted, definitely. But no infection, no internal injuries beyond the obvious bruising, and a few injuries that didn't heal properly, but nothing to worry about. We sedated her gently. She might wake up soon.”

Natasha stood the moment the doctor nodded toward the room. “Can I see her?”

“Yes. Just for a few minutes, and keep it quiet. She’s been through a lot.”

Natasha didn’t answer. She was already moving.

—

The room was dim and quiet, the steady beep of the heart monitor the only sound. You were there, lying so still under the soft white sheets, a faint oxygen tube at your nose, IVs at your side.

Natasha stopped at the foot of the bed. She wasn’t ready. She’d pictured this moment a hundred different ways over the past three years. None of them came close.

You looked like you and not like you — thinner, paler, yet tanned, your hair longer and tangled in places, and skin marked with sun and wear. But it was you.

Carefully, Natasha stepped closer, lowering herself into the chair beside your bed. She didn’t speak. She just watched. Studied your face. Every part of her wanted to reach out — but she couldn’t bring herself to disturb the fragile stillness.

She opened her hand. The ring glinted dully in the light.

“I never stopped wearing it,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Never took it off. Not once.”

Her fingers curled gently around your hand, the one not bound by tape and tubing. You were warm. Not cold. Not gone.

“I should’ve been with you,” she whispered. “I should’ve—”

But she couldn’t finish.

Her breath caught, and for the first time in years, Natasha Romanoff let her shoulders fall and her head bow beside the woman she never stopped loving.

She stayed like that. Until the rhythm of your heart monitor seemed to slow into something steadier. Familiar.

Until maybe — just maybe — she felt your fingers twitch beneath her own.

Natasha’s eyes remained fixed on you, but her mind had drifted. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, nor how many times she had muttered those quiet, broken words — promises, apologies, confessions — to the room, to the air, to you.

The weight of everything she hadn’t said was finally crashing down on her, more than she could have prepared for. The years without you, the months of pretending she could go on without even knowing where you were, the guilt that had gnawed at her every waking moment, the hopelessness she buried deeper each day. It had always felt like she was waiting for something — waiting for the call, the news, anything that would bring you back into her world. She couldn’t breathe without the thought of you, couldn’t focus on anything with your absence hanging like a shadow.

But here you were, lying in front of her, fragile and yet still alive.

Alive.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she held the ring, the very symbol of everything she’d almost lost forever. The years had worn away at its luster, but it still gleamed, faintly — a promise. She had thought she’d never see you again. She thought she’d have to carry this unfulfilled promise forever.

And yet, here you were.

Her eyes filled with tears that she refused to let fall. She wasn’t going to cry. She couldn’t. Not here, not now, when you needed her more than ever.

"I promised you I’d come for you," she whispered, her voice rough. "I promised."

She held the ring in her hand as if it could reach you — as if it could bridge the gap between her pain and your absence. She was scared, more than she cared to admit. Scared of how you might feel when you woke up. Scared of what you might remember. Scared of how fragile this moment was — of how fragile you were.

Her hand moved slowly to the side of your bed. She didn’t want to disturb you, but she couldn’t stop herself. The need to be close to you was overwhelming. The need to feel that connection — that spark of life that had once been so familiar, so undeniable between you.

“I couldn’t live without you,” Natasha whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “I won’t let you go again.”

For a moment, she simply sat there, eyes closed, listening to the steady rhythm of your breath. The world outside the room seemed distant and cold — nothing mattered except the space between her and you, the fragile space that had once been filled with shared laughter, quiet mornings, and stolen moments.

The steady beep of the heart monitor seemed to echo in her mind, a reminder that you were here, that you were real, that you were alive. But what was left for the two of you now? Could things be the same after all that had happened? Natasha didn’t know. All she knew was that she couldn't—wouldn't— let you slip away again.

The door creaked softly, and Maria stepped in, her expression quiet but understanding. Natasha didn’t look up. She didn’t want anyone else in this moment, but Maria’s presence was a grounding force — a reminder that Natasha hadn’t been completely alone through all of this.

“She’s going to be okay,” Maria said, her voice gentle but firm. “She’s a fighter, Nat.”

Natasha didn’t respond, her eyes never leaving you. She wasn’t ready for anyone’s reassurance. Not yet.

Maria waited for a moment, then sighed softly. “I’ll give you some time. Just… don’t do this alone. Not again.”

But Natasha didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She didn’t know how to explain the ache in her chest, the heaviness that had been there for years. There was no way to put it into words.

She only nodded silently, her gaze never wavering from your sleeping form. And in that silence, Natasha finally let herself hope again. Not just for your safety, but for something more. Something she had almost forgotten how to believe in.

She wasn’t alone anymore. Neither of them was.

—

The first thing you felt was the weight of your own body. The heaviness of skin and bone sinking into the sterile softness of hospital sheets. The dull ache beneath the surface of everything. But more than that, it was the quiet hum of machines, the faint beeping of a heart monitor, and the sterile scent of antiseptic that confirmed it — you weren’t on the island anymore.

You were safe.

That realization alone felt unreal.

Your eyelids fluttered, the light above muted through lashes you struggled to lift. The world came back to you in pieces — sound, then shape, then color. The sharp clarity of a cold IV line in your hand. The warmth of a blanket pulled up to your chest. The dull echo of a familiar voice.

It was the last one that made your heart stutter.

Natasha.

She was sitting beside you. Tired. Still. Her posture held together by force alone, like she hadn’t moved in hours — maybe longer. Her hands were folded in her lap, but her entire body leaned ever so slightly toward you, as if afraid you’d vanish if she didn’t stay close.

You blinked slowly, and her eyes found yours in an instant.

The breath she let out was shaky. You saw it — the moment she shattered just a little more but also held herself together just enough to stay strong for you.

“…hey,” she whispered. Her voice was raw, barely a sound at all. But her eyes were full — of grief, of relief, of everything she hadn’t dared let herself feel until now. “You’re here.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. You tried again — your voice rasped and cracked, dry and weak.

“…Hi,” you whispered.

Tears welled up in her eyes immediately. Natasha leaned forward, slowly, cautiously, her hand brushing your arm like she needed to touch you to believe this was real. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Weeks. Maybe years.

“I didn’t think…” you started, the words struggling to form.

“I know,” she said, voice tight. “Me neither.”

Your eyes darted around, and that’s when you saw it — sitting on the table beside a vase of white flowers, looking oddly solemn in the sterile light — was Red. Your Red. The coconut you once talked to when you were losing hope, when your voice was the only one on that island. Someone had even propped it up with a little folded towel beneath it like a throne.

You stared at it, blinking again, and then let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a sob.

“Red made it?”

“Maria made sure of it,” Natasha said with a hint of a smile, though her voice was still breaking. “Said she’d have murdered her entire team if they left him behind. Apparently you muttered its name after they sedated you.”

Your throat burned. Everything hurt. But Natasha’s presence eased something inside of you that had been coiled tight for years. She looked at you like she was scared you’d disappear if she blinked. And you looked at her like she was the first warmth you’d felt in forever.

You reached for her hand, slowly, shakily. She took it before your fingers even fully stretched toward her.

“You waited,” you said softly.

“I would’ve waited forever,” Natasha whispered back.

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t heavy anymore. It was full — of all the words you didn’t need to say, of the pain that was finally beginning to thaw, of the bond between you that had never broken, even after everything.

Even after all this time.

You closed your eyes again, not to sleep — just to rest. Just to breathe. Just to be.

With her hand in yours and Red by your side, for the first time in a long time… you believed everything might be okay.

----

TAGLIST: @womenarehotsstuff @seventeen-x @ctrlaltedits @ciaoooooo111 @unexpected-character @redroomgraduate @natsaffection @cheekysnake @viosblog112 @riyaexee @lilyeyama @idontliketoread2127 @ima-gi--na-tion @sunny-poe @artemisarroxvolkov @hotcocoandonuts @scarletsstarlets @splatashaswife

[clarkeybabey]

Hi! This is my first time requesting anything so I hope I'm doing this right, was wondering if u could do some george hcs of being his gf while he plays in the charity match? Thank you xx

thank you so much for the request!! I hope you enjoy:)))), a bit suggestive at the end..... more coming soon;)

poor baby is so nervous in the weeks leading up to it

"i would've rather them ask me the day of." "you wouldn't have been prepared." "I genuinely couldn't care less about preparation; the suspense is killing me."

He's dialled in every second, whether that be the sidemen Instagram or the whatsapp group chat

"you do know they've already announced you, right?" "yes, darling, but what if they change their mind or something???"

and you better believe when the fellas streamed discussing the lineup, he had it, volume blasting, on your bedroom tv, knee bouncing.

"you're going to be riding that bench mate," "shut the fuck up, Christopher."

chris and arthur give him so much shit for how he's acting

"arthur, you weren't even invited. you're not a part of this!!!" "Bit harsh, mate, no?" "They're scared they'll hurt your ever-so-fragile ego if they don't invite you back." "alrighty then..."

practically begs them and you despite your plans with the other wags to let you be there on training day.

"she'll be well behaved, simon, i promise." "i don't think I'm the one they're worried about..." "we'll bring the leash just in case," "STOP FORCING THE PET PLAY NARRATIVE, GEORGE CLARKE."

he has an eye on you the entire day, introduces you to everyone you haven't met yet, and makes sure you see all the defending he does or the goals he makes. Clearly in search of much-needed validation

"is this your missus, clarkey?" "oh yeah, ginge, this is [name], my wife." scoffing, you hold up your ringless hand, "that's news to me."

"did you see that, holy shit," he says in a pile of limbs on the grass, "I did, yes, but lets not kill ourselves before you've even touched the pitch."

all of a sudden, the morning of match day, he wakes you up dressed in his Sidemen FC zip-up, feeling scarily indifferent about being in front of millions, playing with some of the biggest social media stars.

he kisses your cheek before stepping out for team breakfast. "are you sure you're okay?" two nights prior he was quite anxious about the crowd or disappointing anyone, but now he's just chill.

"im fine, baby, excited but im not freaking out anymore," he shrugs toying with his vlog camera settings, "Well, I've got breakfast with liv and sab in a bit, text me okay?"

You receive a kiss on the corner of your mouth, followed by a salute, and he's off

Throughout the time before the match, you're shooting him endless messages of encouragement and well-wishes, he's quick with thank you's and assurances that he's okay, just footie with his mates, he insists

The crowd erupts with screams during their walkouts, you're aware of the amount of support your friends and boyfriend receive on the internet, but the energy in the stadium seemed to be something otherworldly.

He was benched for a bit, but when he was out there, he made his presence known. Anxiety and pride are the only things you find yourself feeling

especially the ladder when he scored his goal, despite his doubts that he'd be able to do so.

Once the celebrations calm down, one of the girls speaks up, "Someone's getting it tonight," with wagging brows. you don't answer, but the irrepressible smirk on your face says everything you refuse to.

Before you know it, it's over. The match goes into penalties for the first time ever, unfortunately, Sidemen FC loses because of one missed penalty.

There are no hard feelings as 4.7 million pounds and counting was raised and split among three charities. Unless Chris, Deji, and Danny's bragging rights are brought up

You find him in the showers after most everyone's left to change and freshen up for the afterparty. He's a sight with his towel hanging low on his hips, seemingly typing up a text; it takes a lot of restraint not to jump on him right there.

your phone chimes with his notification, he smiles when he finds your eyes, "Don't go getting any ideas, i don't think i'd like to be banned from Wembley." you scoff, jokingly offended, "how dare you assume I'm thinking inappropriately, just wanted to see my man,"

"told you id meet you in the lobby. you're very impatient," simple words, his pretty eyes, and a hand squeezing your hip have all words dying on your tongue

They quickly return when his wet hair soaks both your neck and top. "George," you gasp, doing your best to put space between the two of you, not really caring when you fail and are lifted up onto the communal sinks, "Now whos getting ideas?"

[ceesimz]

We're All We Need Today

Hey, long time no story! I'm back with this, something I had the idea for a long time ago but it was low on my list of favourites. Then I re-jigged it and re-worked it and now it's done! Everybody's favourite trope, or mine at least, angst to fluff!

It should have been just a normal Tuesday. A normal evening on a random day mid-week in May. Training for you both that ended just after lunchtime, before meeting up at Alexia's apartment early evening after the pair of you attended meetings or completed other pieces of work. That all went smoothly, it was perfectly fine.

Alexia shouldn't have looked at your phone without your permission though. She shouldn't have looked at your messages in the first place, nevermind doing it behind your back.

"I cannot believe you told your friends and did not tell me first!" Alexia shouted at you as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, your phone opened onto your friend groupchat in her hand.

"What? Alexia, what are you doing? Are you looking through my phone?" You cried out, marching over to snatch it back, but she holds it in the air out of your reach like a high school bully. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"You told your friends without conferring with me first. You went behind my back and you know I didn't want anyone knowing!"

"You've gone behind my back too, looking through my phone! Why did you do that?" You jumped and grabbed your phone, confirming exactly what you thought.

She had gone through your phone whilst you were out the room, had clicked onto a chat with your closest friends who you trusted more than almost everyone in your life, and she had read just one message that said 'What does your weekend look like in sunny Barcelona? Any plans with A?'

"No, no. You aren't flipping this around. You swore to me-" She jabbed her finger harshly against your chest as she spoke. "-that you would not tell anyone until I said you could."

Is she for real right now? Who are you even talking to?

This is not the woman you fell in love with almost seven months ago. This is not the woman who used her captaincy as an excuse to get your number. This is not the woman who asked to be your girlfriend in such a shy and awkward manner as she stumbled over her words whilst eating dinner with you on her sofa. This definitely isn't the woman who cares for you how no one else has, nor is this the woman who loves you infinitely and shows it in ways you never could have thought possible.

This is a selfish, egotistical, self-centred, and downright cold-hearted person you do not recognise. The version of Alexia in front of you here is one you thought you'd never, ever encounter. Yet, look at the situation now.

"So, what, I have to run everything by you? I can't tell my closest friends possibly the biggest detail in my life? I can't tell them I'm in love and happier than ever?"

"No. Not now. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone, and you have betrayed me." Alexia huffed angrily, her hands on her hips as she turned away from you.

"I wanted to share this part of my li- you, with them! And, Ale, you've told Alba and Eli, why can't I tell my friends?" You moved to stand in front of her so you're facing her again, and she fixed you a disapproving glare with a jut to her jaw.

"Friends are different to family - I've never met these people! What are their intentions? I don't know, and I don't want them knowing private facts about me. That is why I'm mad." Alexia gritted her teeth as she spoke, fury swimming through her veins as her hands gripped her own hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises the next time she looked.

"What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself right now?" You scoffed, your anger almost tripling when the woman in front of you chuckled.

"Trust me, I hear myself. I also hear you denying everything, denying the fact you've outed our relationship, denying the fact you've broke my trust. Betrayed the one thing I asked you to promise not to do. Maybe you're the one who needs their ears checking, remember when I said 'let's wait some time to tell people.' Maybe you misheard me and thought I said 'how about we tell every fucking person in the city?' So yes, I hear myself. Very clearly, you don't have to worry about that."

You stared, glared, at her for a few moments, gobsmacked at the turn of events whilst also trying not to burst into tears. This is a situation you never thought would occur between you both, and the vile way she spoke to you paired with her foul accusations had you slipping on your shoes and leaving her apartment. And, possibly the worst part of it all? She didn't even try to stop you.

Why was it always about her, about what she wants, always on her terms?

What about your opinion? She didn't care to hear you out, and it sounds like she doesn't give two flying fucks what you've got to say. Alexia Putellas and her dense head coming into play again, only caring about herself and her legacy and what people say about her. You'd think that as someone who, to the public, seems so very secure and content in her position as the best women's player still in the game, that she wouldn't be so worrisome and out-right vile if there was a chance something wasn't going her way.

No, she wasn't like that with you at least, not at all. You hadn't been together long, but the secrecy and, what you inferred now as shame, seeped into your mind and with each step as you walked home that day, you grew more and more, not only utterly infuriated, but overwhelmingly perturbed at the prospect of just... everything.

Perhaps your whole relationship had merely been a fluke. Something Alexia didn't take serious in the slightest, and nowhere near serious enough for you to tell people about it. Maybe, at the end of the day, you were too much for her to deal with, and the only way the Catalan could cope was by keeping you behind closed doors. The theories your mind was coming up made you sick to the pit of your stomach, and it was a miracle that you made it to the bathroom of your apartment by the time you were emptying the contents of your body.

There was some kind of higher power watching over you, because this whole fiasco had occurred when there were two days off afterwards. It was coming up to the tail end of the season, and as the latter half of the month was jam-packed with tense games, you had planned to make the most of the time off. With a few social events scattered across the two days, you had been greatly looking forward to spending time with your teammates outside of the pitch, your friends, and at the time most importantly, Alexia. That all didn't seem enticing anymore, nor did it even seem possible.

For the time being though, as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom and fell into bed, the breakfast catch-ups and evening dinners were the last things on your mind. The only way you wanted to spend your time off, was wallowing in a trench of self-pity.

And that's how you found yourself in the gym of your apartment complex some fourty hours later.

Jab, jab, hook. Jab, jab, hook. Right hook, then a left uppercut, and another right hook to follow.

Punch after punch after punch after punch. There was no stopping you in this mindset. Not with the things your head was chanting, Alexia's words circling endlessly around your mind. They were what fuelled you right now, allowing you to lay into the punching bag before you with no second thought to the consequences.

And those consequences were sure to bring you a lot of pain later, in your hands that weren't wrapped up like they should, nevermind wearing gloves.

There was music playing through the earphones you had in, but for the life of you, you couldn't even register it right now. Your vision was blurred by pure rage, failing to recognise the cuts forming with every unrestrained punch and the bruises beginning to form along the bumps of each knuckle. You had tunnel vision on one thing and one thing only, and that was trying to dispel yourself of the all-consuming anger that had plagued you for almost two days now.

"Amiga! Basta, basta, hey." A soft voice broke through your trance as your earphones were delicately tugged from your ears. "Hey, you hear me?"

As your hands were gently taken ahold of by the figure to your right, you took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against the bag. It was now that the woman beside you realised just how poor your breathing was, and she brought one of her hands to rub caringly up and down your back.

"Más despacio, relájate. Tómatelo con calma, vale? Relájate." Her voice soothed you a little, giving you the peace of mind you needed to set your breathing back to normal. "Are you with me?"

At that, you nod and take some more breaths before leaning up and taking in the person beside you. It was Mariona, who you shared the same apartment complex with, a fact you had forgotten about. In this moment, you weren't sure if you were thankful for that fact or if you resented it.

"Yes, with you." You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt before properly looking at her.

"Are you okay?" Mariona knew it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but for the moment as she collected her thoughts and did an internal assessment of the situation, it was more of a buffer than anything.

"Um, I guess there's no point lying, is there." You state flatly, the Spaniard smiling sadly at you and shaking her head. "Things aren't great... right now, so."

"Okay. That's okay." Mariona's smile was perhaps the brightest thing you'd seen, and with her looking at you the way she was, with so much care and a major lack of judgement, it was hard to reject the help she was soon to offer.

"Will you let me take care of you? I have a first aid kit in my apartment that I can use for these." She gestured down to your bruised and battered hands that were growing more painful by the second. "We can talk if you want, or you can at least let me patch you up and I can call somebody else. It's up to you."

You thought you knew what you wanted, and it wasn't this, but now that the offer is glaringly right in your face, your inner monologue urged you to fall to your knees and beg for assistance, for someone to scoop up all the negativity in your mind and lift the weight of it from your shoulders.

Isolating yourself from everyone, as you had done in the last days, wasn't healthy in the slightest, and rationally you knew the excuses you gave for doing so were completely unwarranted. Yes, you were the newest signing, and yes, Alexia was the captain and the glue of the team. However, that did not lessen your worth, you still deserved your spot on the team and you deserved to be treated with humanity. As Mariona had shown in the span of a few moments, your teammates wouldn't pick sides depending on how long you had and hadn't known people, and they certainly wouldn't treat you any less just because you had fallen out with - foregoing her team title - your girlfriend.

You were only human after all.

"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mariona."

Once more, the forward smiled politely at you and nodded, moving to wait at the door to the gym to wait for you as you collected up your things. Each movement of your hands had you grimacing in discomfort, a fact not lost on Mariona as she took the items, like your water bottle and your jumper, from you just to take the edge off a little.

You weren't too close with Mariona, you had gravitated towards the likes of Ingrid and Fridolina and Aitana when you joined (and Alexia, of course), but at the end of the day she was still your teammate and you often found yourself in a group with her in training since you were also a forward. The 28 year old was a hard-worker, yet she was also one of the most laid-back people you'd ever met, so in her presence it was hard not to allow yourself to relax even just a tiny bit. The aura that radiated off of her was oddly settling, and as you both made your way up to her apartment in relative silence, you were offered your first slice of serenity since that day not too long ago.

"Would you like a shower first? You look like you worked yourself hard in there." Mariona offered as she closed the door of her apartment behind you.

"No, it's okay, thanks." You gave her an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment - a moment when you were filled with such rage and negativity, that all you could do was lay into a harmless object like a woman possessed.

"Alright. Sit down at the counter, I will get all I need and be with you in a second."

With a sheepish nod, you complied and sat at the island counter in the kitchen, taking a moment to compose yourself before you knew an emotionally charged conversation was about to take place. You were tempted to take Mariona up on her offer to call somebody else, but honestly you were already exhausted and just wanted to get this whole situation off of your chest.

You'd been lugging it around for days now, encumbered by the weight of anger that, as time went on, was bleeding into exasperation and disconcertion because, in all honesty, you just wanted your girlfriend back. That was a little difficult though, because the woman in question was still being as cold as ever and for the life of you, you couldn't get a good read on her to figure out what her stand was on it all now. Whether she'd confided in Mapi or Irene or her sister or even Mariona, you had no idea, you just hoped there was still an ounce of her that cared for you in just a sliver of the way you did for her.

Though you hadn't seen or heard from her since that evening, her actions and her words were still fresh on your mind, and no matter how much time you spent mentally going through each doing of hers, it all made zero sense. In no way shape or form had Alexia portrayed such viciousness towards you, nor had she ever been so horrible and completely unfair in the time you had known her. Maybe it was a case of only knowing her for a short-ish amount of time, but her behaviour seemed so out of character that it set a feeling of uneasiness in your chest.

Hopefully, bumping into Mariona, someone who had been good friends with Alexia for a long time, would give you some insight into why the Barcelona captain had acted in such ways.

"Here we go. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is unfortunately a necessary evil in this case." Mariona purses her lips forgivingly as she pulls out two alcohol wipes that already have you wincing at the thought. "Are you ready?"

"Yep, just get it done with. Please."

You hold your breath as she rips open one of the packets, then you watch on as she takes hold of your left hand first and lightly runs it over and in between each knuckle. It hurts a hell of a lot, sure it does, but with the tenderness that the Spaniard treats you with, all you can focus on is trying not to burst into tears at the kindness you're faced with. Your mind has been anything but towards you, and the last proper human interaction you had that had been longer than a few brief minutes was your intense argument with Alexia. So this moment here was overwhelming, in many more ways than one.

"That's one done, your right hand looks a bit worse. Am I okay to carry on?"

Honestly, why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Mariona, instead of the ignorant, hot-headed woman you were in love with?

"Yeah, it's fine."

The silence between you both is weirdly not unsettling or awkward at all, instead it's relatively comforting and for the first time in days, your skin isn't crawling at the fact you're left alone with nothing but the sound of your endless cycle of thoughts.

The Spaniard standing beside you was correct, your right hand was indeed slightly worse off than your left, and that was only made more clear with each brush of the wipe, clearing away the blood only to show cuts in the divots of your knuckles and bruises covering the entirety of the right end of your hand.

"You have a good punch on you, ever thought about boxing instead of football?" Mariona joked, trying to uplift the heavy atmosphere in the room.

"No, wouldn't want to mess up this face." You replied, the forward laughing quietly and nodding.

"You are right, and football is much more easy to watch."

You supplied her with an agreeing smile, trying to hide your discomfort as she moved your hands around to assess the damage and make a plan of action.

"Okay, I think I will apply some antiseptic cream for your cuts and wrap them up with bandages. Then I will give you an ice pack for each hand, does that sound alright?"

"That's perfect, Mariona, thank you." You smile gratefully at her, and thought it's not a genuine smile, you hope she understands the appreciation you hold for her.

"It is not a problem. We look after each other at Barça, sabes? Anything you need, please do not be afraid of reaching out. To any of us."

And there is her segue into striking up the conversation you'd both danced around since she saw you.

You had to give it to her, she let a few moments pass by so it could come across as a bit less obvious, but nevertheless it happened just as you had expected.

"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened in the gym?" She took note of the hesitation you greeted that question with, so she put the tube of cream down and faced you fully. "That was a bit concerning to walk in on, and I wouldn't be at peace with myself if I let you out of here without checking in on you."

"I... I guess, yeah." You sighed.

"Thank you. How would you like to start?" Mariona wondered with her ever-present smile, pairing it with a nonchalant shrug, further evidence of her care-free nature that continued to draw you in. "You can start talking about what is on your mind, or I can ask some leading questions to help. I am fine with anything, I just want you to leave here feeling a bit better."

Mariona had asked you a few moments ago if you had ever thought about boxing. Now, you wanted to ask her if she'd ever considered being a psychologist.

"I think it would help if you asked some questions, maybe." You decided, and she nodded instantly. She grabbed the tube of cream again and started applying it at the same time she uttered her first query.

"Do you normally practice on the bag without gloves on?" It was a very light one to start off with, perhaps something to be grateful for, but despite feeling a little calmer now, your mind was still in turmoil and wasn't fully recovered yet.

"No, I always wrap them up. I didn't even plan on using the bag today, it just... I was on the treadmill and then I saw it and wanted to use it. I wasn't really thinking straight, so. Yeah. This is the result of that." You took a sharp breath as the forward smoothed over a particularly bad cut with the antiseptic.

"Mhm. And, forgive me for this one, was it your intention to hurt yourself?"

That one took your breath a little.

"No, no, not at all. It wasn't even a thought in my head, I swear, I only wanted to get my anger out." You responded hastily, trying to convince her that you were relatively okay and that this was just a blip, and you didn't need some kind of intervention.

"Okay, thank you for being honest. I'm very glad to hear that, and I'll take your word for it." After finishing with your current hand, she squeezes it comfortingly and moves onto your other one. "Are you willing to tell me what's wrong? Why you needed to get some anger out?"

"Yeah... yeah, I am. I have to give you some context though, and I'd be really grateful if you kept it between us."

Mariona wasn't a gossip by any sorts, but as a result of the months of Alexia's words drilling into you of how nobody can know about you both, it was still an anxiety you had. Yet, the woman looking after you in such a heart-warming way was quite possibly the good samaritan you needed right now, her acts of kindness a reminder to not lose all hope with the world around you. You were well within your right to freak out in the way you had - not only were you in an entirely new city, learning a language you hadn't paid any mind to since school, but rather naively you had probably depended on Alexia more than you should have.

It was a lesson to be learnt, a mistake you wouldn't make again, though in the future even if you didn't recognise it yet, you'd look back on your time so far and wouldn't even regret it that much. After all, every moment of the past ten months had led you to the love of your life, and nothing was ever completely perfect. You would take a few bumps in the road if it meant you could end the season with a few medals around your neck and the greatest woman you'd ever met on your arm. Sure, you might not think the greatest of her right now, but you would mend it. You were sure you would. Hopefully.

"Of course, I won't tell a soul. You can tell me anything and no one will ever hear a word of it." Mariona reasurred you and though you hadn't really doubted her in the first place, you were still beyond grateful to hear that.

"So, um... Alexia and I have been in a relationship for a few months."

Yet again, Mariona continued to surprise you with how marvelous she was. Or maybe it was just an after effect of how much Alexia's words had got to you, because when the islander simply raised her eyebrows for a millisecond before nodding as you revealed your news, you're shocked at how much of a low-key reaction she gave. Whether she had an incredible poker-face or she just didn't care half as much as Alexia thought people would, your body sagged in relief at that minute response. As far as human beings go, this one right here wasn't too bad at all.

"And, for reasons I still don't understand, she was adamant that we keep it a secret. Like it was some kind of war tactic we had to keep safe. She made it out to be a make or break situation for us. But she told Eli and Alba less than a week after we made it all official, which I didn't think much of. I talked to her about it back then, wondering if it was just something she wanted to keep quiet while we were only in the dating stage, but she told me I still couldn't tell anyone. I guess because I was still relatively new here, with not many close friends and still with the mindset of trying to earn my place in the team, I agreed. Then as time went on I got a bit... annoyed with what Alexia wanted, but whenever I brought it up with her she would immediately shut the conversation down. I figured I could do it slyly, without telling her and without telling anyone any kind of intricate details of our relationship. So I took matters into my own hands."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at this point, knowing it was here in the story where things got quite rocky. Mariona had finished applying the antiseptic at this point and was now getting the bandages ready, prepped with the medi-tape beside her to secure her wrapping. With each new fact you unveiled, she nodded along in understanding, completely on the same page with you. She didn't understand the actions of her friend as of yet, wondering why on earth she'd be so intensely secretive about her relationship to the point of not telling a single soul, but those were thoughts she wouldn't voice yet.

Mariona herself was in a private relationship, and she was happier than ever in it. However, it wasn't a secret. Sure, she wasn't posting photos of herself and Lia all over her social media, but if you looked close enough the facts were clearly there. Plus, pretty much everyone in her personal life and Lia's knew about the pair of them, and nobody was fussed. So why Alexia was acting in this way, she didn't have a single idea.

"I told my closest, most trusted friends that I was in a relationship, and that the name of the person I was with began with 'A'. That was genuinely all I gave. I warned them not to nag me with guesses of who it was as that would break my own personal rules, because after all I didn't want to go behind Alexia's back more than I already had. Then... Alexia went through my phone. She saw that my friends were making plans in the group chat back home, and then they wondered if I had plans with 'A' over the weekend."

"She went through your phone?" Mariona questioned, in disbelief at the invasion of privacy you'd experienced.

"Yes, she did. The text flashed up on my lock screen while I went to the bathroom, and then she just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I don't know how in depth she went, but..." You shrugged, averting your gaze to your aching hands, ultimately defeated by now; by Alexia and her stubbornness, by your own mind, and lastly by the fact you had been so suddenly caught out by one of your teammates.

It was at this point that the numbness dispelled and gave way for shame, embarrassment, and a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know anyone from the team in depth, you were still just getting to know them, and the first thing you had done when you arrived was dive head first into a relationship with their captain. There was an endless possibility to the vast amount of opinions each person could hold for you and how they felt about your relationship (even though there was almost no way at all they could know about it), and as the silent seconds ticked by, it started eating away at you.

Though, somehow, in some magical, god-given miraculous way, Mariona saw right through you. And from now on, you were to make it your life mission to give back to this messiah in the form of an attacking footballer from the Balearic Islands of Spain.

"Hey." She tapped on the counter in front of you to get your attention, achieving that when you look up at her. "You don't have to... to get defensive with me. I can bet what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry about all those thoughts. I am neutral here, helping a friend. I will not go and tell Alexia or anyone about this, not if you don't want me to. And trust me, I am on your side. I have never heard of her acting like this, I am shocked and slightly outraged too."

That was undeniably relieving to hear, for a number of reasons. But for the most part, you were glad to hear that because for the past few days your mind had been trying its damn hardest to manipulate you into thinking this whole commotion was your fault, that you were the fault-line in the relationship that had caused this rickety earthquake.

No, that was no longer a worry, because here was possibly the human example of sunshine saying she shared your view and was just as displeased as you when it came to the Catalan's behaviour. Now, knowing you had at least one person on your side, this obstacle felt a little easier to climb over.

"I do have one thing I'm wondering." After a curious hum from you, she explained. "Is there anything you would like me to do in this situation? Like, bring it up with Ale? Because for both of your sakes, I want this to be solved in the easiest way possible."

Was it a good idea, judging off of Alexia's already toxic reaction to the point where she refused to hear you out? Most likely, but, not only did you think Mariona could teach her a thing or two when it came to human interactions, there was a small (actually fairly large) part of you that wanted to fight back against Alexia's unfairness by showing her you simply were not one to be trampled on.

There were two people in this relationship, and in this moment you realised that rank, longevity, and status in a football team were measly things to worry about.

"I think that would be a good way to start. Having someone knock some sense into her." You answered, quietly delighted when Mariona laughed momentarily at your words.

"I will try to do exactly that, for you. Promise." For the millionth time that evening, you found yourself completely under the influence of that goddamn smile.

"You're very good at communication. Unnervingly good." The hearty laugh you got in response forced the first genuine smile out of you all evening.

"Well, when you have a very emotionally intelligent girlfriend, you have to keep up."

"If you could give Alexia some lessons, I would appreciate that a lot."

"I will talk to her. Don't worry."

You left Mariona's apartment not too long after, both hands wrapped precariously and feeling significantly better than you did during that gym incident, finding solace in the fact there was now a fairly solid plan of action.

The only thing you could do now, was wait.

That was harder said than done, because for the rest of that day you didn't hear from Mariona at all. Nor did you hear from her before training the day after, and for the first time since you arrived, you were wracked with nerves as you walked into the building.

Not once during the whole session did Alexia glance towards you. Not once did she even acknowledge your existence. It drove you crazy, her acting as if you were invisible. As if she couldn't get anymore fucking immature. It took a lot of self control to not act like a petulant child towards her, desperate to piss her off in a quarter of the way she had to you, but you were better than that.

So when she rocked up outside your apartment later that day, with freshly dyed blonde hair that was styled in a frustratingly attractive way, a bouquet of chrysanthemums in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other, it took all of your strength to not slam the door in her stupidly hot face.

"What are you doing here?" You asked flatly, followed by a sigh that clearly indicated she was the last person on earth you wanted to see right now.

Well, with that haircut, maybe not the last person...

"I have a lot of explaining to do, I know that. And a lot of grovelling too. I was hoping you didn't hate me that badly to let me in." Alexia smiled sadly down at you, a slight shrug to her shoulders when she speaks.

Your mind goes back and forth for a few moments, briefly running through pros and cons of letting her in, before you decide fuck it, worst comes to worst you can show off your new boxing skills.

Eyebrows raised, you walk away from the door back towards your sofa, leaving her to wonder what to do for a moment. Ultimately, she decides to slowly follow after you once she'd softly closed the door. A quick glance around your apartment tells her you hadn't eaten yet, and she takes that as a small win before heading towards where you were seated.

"I brought your favourite takeout. Would you like to me dish it up?" She asks, a little disheartened when you shake your head.

"If you came here to talk, we're gonna talk." You state firmly, waiting expectantly for her to come sit with you.

She should have expected this really, knowing how royally she'd screwed it up with you and how disgusting she had acted. But hearing you speak so sternly was a bit unnerving, even if Alexia did recognise she more than deserved it.

A second later, she nods and places her items down on your dining table before making her way over to you. Rightfully so, she leaves some space between you both when she sits down, and you have to stifle a laugh as to not ruin your façade with how on edge she looks.

"Uh, so, me first, or..." Staying silent, you raised a daring eyebrow at her, thoroughly enjoying putting her through this slight torture. "Sí, okay, me first."

Anxiously, she wipes her clammy palms on her thighs. Then she cleared her throat, glancing at you periodically before taking a deep breath and starting her explanation.

"I am well, well aware of how bad I have acted towards you. I want to make that clear first. I acted like an idiot, to the worst degree. I was selfish, rude, I invaded your privacy, and I completely fucked it all up."

Hm, not too bad of a start.

"Congratulations, you took responsibility!" You responded sarcastically, fighting the urge to give her a round of applause too. Then you're fighting off a bubble of laughter at the nervous chuckle she gives before speaking again.

"I will regret my actions until the day I die. I promise you, I will never behave like that ever again. I've never been more ashamed of myself in my life, and knowing it's you who I acted like that towards makes it a hundred times worth. Because, you..." She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air like she's speechless. "You're you. You're the most selfless person I know. Your heart is something I do not deserve to have, because of how pure and kind and beautiful it is. You are so caring, and you love with every fibre of your being. Not only that, but you're so open, and I really admire that, because that is something I'm not. I'm... I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm still anxious, and being secretive is how I've lived all my life. I want to be more open and care-free, I really do, it's just... hard for me."

With each word, each compliment, and each reason she gives, your hardened exterior towards her is slowly getting chipped away. You're not a grudge holder, it's not in your nature. And no matter how much you tried to fight it, it was inexplicably hard to not get wrapped up in her.

"Mariona... Mariona said you didn't even tell your friends it was me you were with. She said you only told them my name began with A, and that was it."

Alexia trusted Mariona of course, that was something that naturally occurred having known her for so long, but she wanted to get confirmation from you.

"I did. They don't know it's you I'm with." You told her, and if it was somehow possible, Alexia's heart shattered just that bit more.

"Well, I'm sorry, amor. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, it was really stupid and unfair of me. I really appreciate that you didn't break my trust, like I thought you had. I... that just shows how little I valued you. And I swear, that's something you'll never have to doubt again. I value you more than anyone in my life. I have a reason for why I was... more than reluctant to tell people about us. But I don't know if you want to hear it. I don't want you to think it's some flimsy excuse."

"Well, I mean, you may as well say it now." You scoffed, watching as she gulped nervously before nodding.

"My last relationship... with Jenni. That's why I'm so worried about telling people. Because even now, years after we ended our relationship that I would never ever want to go back to, people still talk about us, comment on our posts, make edits of us, and freak out about every little fucking interaction between us. It drives me crazy, even now, when I know I should not let it get under my skin, but it does and I can't stop it."

She shrugs dismissively as she talks, eyes cast down on her hands as she fidgets with the rings on her fingers. It's clearly a topic for her that's hard to discuss, and you want to reach out and take hold of one of her hands, but you don't want to distract her.

"When I was with Jenni, I was nowhere near as 'famous' as I am now. Now, I get the most vile and intrusive articles written about me, there are always cameras on me, paparazzi trying to figure out where I am at all times, and it really worries me because I don't want to involve you in that. If the media started writing things about you that were even just half as nasty as the things they've said about me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would eat me up, amor, I don't want you to go through that."

Okay, out of all the overthinking you've done in the last three days, your mind had not mustered up this point of view. This was undeniably sweet, a stark contrast to the way she'd treated you during the argument. You'd been with Alexia long enough to be more than familiar with how she acted on her anxieties in rather unhealthy ways for herself with harmful consequences for those around her as a result. Most likely, you realised, her recent behaviour was a demonstration of that very fact.

"And though those reasons shouldn't excuse my behaviour, because I should never have acted like that, I hope it gives you a tiny bit of insight into my head and allows you to recognise my actions came from a place of love, not malice. I showed it in completely the wrong way, but I swear to you from this moment on I will treat you better than I ever have, if you let me live up to that promise."

A shaky breath leaves the woman beside you, signifying the end of her ramble. And, to be honest, you'd forgiven her long before she finished speaking.

"Thank you for opening up to me. I forgive you, I do, but I won't forget how you treated me. If you ever show even a hint of that behaviour ever again, I'm out, Alexia, you must know that." You give her a clear warning, despite the fact your heart is crying out for you to just jump right back into her arms.

"I do know, I absolutely do know that." She seems to make the leap for you, as she shuffles along the sofa and gently takes ahold of both your hands. Your wounded hands. "Amor, what... what happened?"

Her voice is filled with concern, immediately overcome with nausea as a result of the worry she feels at the sight. However, that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when you tell her what happened.

"Oh, um... an unfortunate run in with a punching bag not too long after our argument." You reveal sheepishly.

Alexia's heart drops. It drops from her chest, to the ground, through the core of the earth, and all the way down to China.

"This... this is because of me?" She whispers the question like she's terrified to utter the words. She's even more terrified of the answer.

"I guess. Yeah. I had to get my anger out some way, and I'm sure you're glad it wasn't your face." You try to joke, but it lands flatter than a pancake.

"Amor, I..." She can't find the right words within her to even attempt to apologise.

The great thing about mental health, was that 99% of the time you couldn't see it. That meant Alexia couldn't see the psychological damage she had caused you with her words.

But this, this was concrete evidence of just how much her treatment had affected you. She had done so much damage to your self-esteem, that you had no choice but to lash out to the point of injury. That, she feared, she would never get over.

"I guess Mariona failed to mention this part to you." Another pitiful attempt to lift the mood.

"She took care of you?" Alexia asked tentatively, the tiniest bit relieved when you nod.

In a split second, her arms were wound tightly around you as she tugged you into her lap. A rush of Catalan spilled from her, of which you gathered were words of apologies and sweet nothings to convey her intense regret. You didn't catch a word, not too familiar with the language despite playing for the pride of Catalunya, but you got the gist quite quickly and it didn't take you a moment longer before your arms were wrapped around her neck.

You were flooded with relief now that you were back in her hold, the embrace finally silencing the relentless voice in your head that had been going non-stop for days now. There were tears dripping onto your neck though, something that has you furrowing your brow and urging her to lift her head up.

"Ale, what's this for?" You asked, delicately wiping some of the tears that were overflowing.

"I just... I fucked it up so bad. So bad. Dios mío, you've ended up hurting yourself because of it. I'm just so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

Alexia falls apart then, breaking out into sobs that, though it's a rather a harsh thing to admit (not that you ever would, verbally) really exemplify her guilt and regret, and tie off her apology. You hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so ruined, but all you can do now is hug her just as tight back and hope your words provide her some comfort.

"I forgive you, Ale, I do. My hands aren't your fault, it's a result of me not being sensible when letting my anger out. It's not your fault, mi corazón, not your fault at all."

You carry on spewing words of comfort for her until her cries finally subside a few minutes later. How she rubs at her eyes is something you find adorable, the way she does so reminding you of a young child. Your own hands follow her calloused ones, treating her with the same care she had complimented you on not so long ago. It warms her heart to no end, and it offers her a little reassurance of the fact you don't hate her guts.

"It's my fault a little bit." She mumbles, and there's a speckle of humour in it that you're not hesitant to jump on.

"Maybe a tiny bit." You whisper scandalously, smiling at the tearful laugh she lets out. "But I don't resent you for it. If I did, we wouldn't be in this position right now, okay?"

"Whatever you say, amor." Alexia nods, a semi-genuine smile on her face as she leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder.

"There's one thing I need from you for us to move past this." You state seriously a few quiet moments after.

She lifts her head up and nods vigorously, prepared to do just about anything you asked for if it meant she could love you for the rest of her life.

"I want to be able to tell people that are important to us. My family, my friends. Your family and friends. Our teammates. I'm not asking for us to go public on social media, I'm not asking for anything like that. I just want us to be more open. I want to be able to walk around Barcelona with you, like we did together when we started out dating. Because those moments with you, where you showed me your favourite restaurants and cafes and places special to you, they're some of my favourite memories with you. I just long for us to have a normal relationship, not one kept in the safety of our apartments behind closed doors. Because it's embarrassing and... and soul destroying being treated like I'm invisible. Just... treat me like a human fucking being in training, please? In public?"

It felt rather humiliating to be begging for such normal things, but that was the exact word you would use to describe this whole thing for you. Humiliating. To be treated like you had by, arguably, the sole person who shouldn't treat you like that, was something you never wished to experience again. Because, if you did? Well, there was simply no coming back.

But, you supposed, being in love was all about taking chances on people and relationships couldn't be built without a steady foundation of trust. That's all you could do now; trust in Alexia to nurture your heart like a delicate blossom where she cherishes every petal with gentle devotion.

"I will. Mi amor, I will do that and more. I will do anything you want me to, I promise that I will change my bad habits so that you never have to suffer at my hands again. I will love you like it's the last thing I'll do. You could never be invisible to me, you never were. From the first time I saw you, in your two-sizes-too-big Barça jumper on your first day, you've been everything but invisible to me."

Finally, the nail in the coffin to this whole ridiculous thing. And man, were you glad to see the back of it.

"As long as you don't embarrass me by one-upping me with your flawless free-kicks."

Despite the push to the shoulder you give her, you giggle and pull her back in for another hug. You'd been deprived of her embrace for far too long, and you planned to make up for it.

"I can't make any promises, unfortunately." You teased, grinning into the skin of her neck as her hands splayed out over your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly.

"I think I will take that." Alexia murmured, hugging you just that bit tighter before she leaned back. She moved her hands from your back to softly cradling your face, her eyes jumping from each feature to feature, trying to commit her favourite art piece in the world to her memory. Then, she met your gaze, and the sincerity and earnest present there was breathtaking. "We'll be okay?"

It was asked in such a vulnerable tone, you couldn't help but smile down at her.

"We'll be okay, Ale."

Going into training the next day, there was a spring in your step. Alexia had stayed over at yours the previous night, near enough refusing to leave. That meant she was wearing the same trousers as the day before along with one of your sweaters that, to your amusement, was evidently slightly too small for her as the cuffs ended just shy of her wrists. Call it your revenge perhaps, but as you both arrived at training together, chatting freely with content smiles on your face, it felt like a new leaf had been turned.

Alexia had made many mistakes with you, that she knew. She also knew she had no more chances, so she was going to try her absolute hardest to never act like such a fool again, even if it killed her. However, the shy smile on your face when she bounded up to you after Jona demanded the team to get into pairs for 1-on-1 practice, was enough proof for her to realise that it wouldn't be such a shame to go out of this world as a result of your love.

She almost came to regret that though when you handed her ass to her on a plate with each of your attempts to get past her. Because, quite frankly, you did embarrass her. Crossing her sides and body-checking her and out-skilling her each time was satisfying to no end, and it was exactly what you needed really. At one point, there was an ounce of worry that perhaps Alexia would be annoyed, but that dissipated immediately when she would laugh and slap her own forehead each time she was outshone.

That tiny speck of worry was completely forgotten about when, after the last attempt of the day, Alexia ran up behind you and lifted you up off the ground with her arms around your torso. Her mouth found its way to your ear as she took a few steps whilst carrying you, squeezing you tightly once.

"Never embarrass me like that again." She murmured jokingly, fighting back a grin as you laughed unabashedly in her hold. Afterwards, she put you down and moved to walk closely beside you, heading back to the main building as Jona called the end of training.

"You're the one that partnered up with me, Ale." You nudged her in the side with your elbow, gazing up at her with an adoring look that had Alexia's heart jumping in her chest.

"Maybe, but I only have one thing to say."

"What's that?" You hummed.

"Thank god for Mariona." She murmured, smiling as you giggled and nodded.

That smile was wiped off her face when an arm flung around her shoulders not a second later.

"Thank god for who?"

"I don't need your bragging right now, Mario, you're ruining a nice moment."

"I made this nice moment happen, Ale, you better thank me properly soon."

With that, the islander left just as quickly as she had arrived. When Alexia noticed the teasing grin on your face at the interaction, she shoved at your shoulder with a grumble under her breath.

"She really got through to you, then?"

"Oh, yeah, she beat my ass."

[fuctacles]

Baby daddy 1/2

The long awaited sequel to Positives attract Finally finished it for @subeddieweek Hits "roleplay" and "dirty talk" from my @steddiebingo

E | 3.8k | cw: brief talk ab ftm pregnancy and abortion | transmasc Eddie, daddy kink, breeding kink, breeding fantasy/roleplay, fluff, smut, humor, established relationship, modern AU | Ao3 | 2/2

Steve is already tired after a full shift at work, but there's still a message of doom sitting in the inbox of his phone.

Congrats on getting out of jail party tonight!

He loves his friends, but it's a Friday afternoon and he'd also love to spend it doing absolutely nothing. Or, doing one person in particular, considering he hasn't seen Eddie for the past week, due to his quarantine. Unfortunately, hence the party. Turns out, boyfriends don't get dibs when Henderson has anything to say in the matter. 

In the parking lot of his building, he spots familiar cars, letting him know he's the last one to arrive to a gathering happening at his own apartment. The buzz of overexcited nerds can be felt through the thin panel of his front door. 

"Steve!" 

Eddie is the first to notice him, running up to him excitedly and throwing arms around his neck. 

"I've missed you so much, did you miss me? It's been torture," he wails, smushing their cheeks together. 

"You've toured for longer than this," Steve points out, but wraps his arms around his waist to return the hug. 

"Yes, but I was free," Eddie counters. "And now I've been trapped within four walls, going insane!"

Steve laughs, hugging him closer. 

"You are insane," he reminds him. 

"Insaner!"

"Sure." Steve gives him the same smile his young students get when they're doing something very child-like and stupid, but he doesn't want to discourage their growth. Eddie, of course, knows this, and huffs his displeasure into his hair. 

"So you didn't miss me." He pouts, going limp in his hold. 

"I did," Steve reassures him with a short kiss to his lips. "But I'm also very tired after working five days in a row, and there's a party in my house," he huffs, looking pointedly towards the lit up living room, where someone was blasting Todrick Hall from their Bluetooth speaker. 

"Sorry about that." Eddie winces sheepishly. "Come on." He loosens his grip to pull him towards the commotion. "I'm gonna get you a beer. Max brought pizza, and there are cookies, they're really good. I'll humor them, and you only sit back and relax, okay?" He smiles brightly, like it could overpower the noise their friends are capable of. 

"Okay," Steve sighs, and they round the corner. 

"My baby daddy is home!" Eddie announces him.

Some are nice enough to just greet him, others are still enjoying his memorable group chat fiasco (Of course Eddie told them, the traitor.) with teasing laughs and smirks. But he barely pays any attention to them, frozen in the artificial light of his own living room like a terrified middle schooler on stage. His brain has short-circuited from the conflicting signals it just received. Because the presence of his friends, the smell of pizza, and Dustin licking sauce off his fingers, are the opposite of a setting appropriate for the heat flooding down his body and twisting low in his gut.

Baby daddy.

Steve just hopes it's a one-time joke.

It's not. 

Eddie loves pet names and has called Steve every possible one under the sun, despite how short they've been officially dating. But today, all the Stevies and big boys and sunshines are gone. Maybe he's noticed the effect it has on Steve, because all he can hear is:

"Does my baby daddy want a top up?"

"Me and my baby daddy hated this movie."

"Hold this for me, baby daddy?"

Baby daddy baby daddy baby daddy.

Like an enchantment directed straight to Steve's cock.

He's glad for the excuse of being tired, because throughout the evening, he drifts deeper and deeper into his own mind, growing quiet while he focuses on thinking decent thoughts. Like not fucking Eddie in the room that's just a thin wall away from all their friends. 

But eventually, his surroundings yank him back in the most brutal way. 

"What do you think about James? Jamie?"

"Huh?"

"For a name," Eddie clarifies nothing.

"Baby name." Dustin grins at him teasingly from across the table.

And Steve is done.

He downs his drink and slams it on the table, making everyone jump in their seats and turn their heads. An aggressive riff playing from the speaker perfectly encapsulates the screaming in his brain.

"You guys are being jerks and I'm too tired to deal with it. I'm going to take a nap, nobody bother me," he announces, standing up.

Straight from work, he arrived to an impromptu party, so it's not like he's pulling the excuse out of his ass. He's old enough to need his decompressing period after getting home.

He catches Robin's eye and gives her a small, tired smile to let her know there's no intervention needed. 

Eddie might need one when he's done with him, though. He's pointedly ignored when Steve leaves the room. 

The door to his bedroom muffles the sounds of his friends and he has a pair of earplugs to help him if it wasn't enough. For now, he gets out of the work clothes that's become uncomfortable hours ago. He should have changed as soon as he got back, but Eddie's radiant smile has distracted him, and then he got pulled from one conversation to another. 

He falls onto his bed with a sigh, suddenly realizing how tense all of his muscles are. As he breathes and relaxes, most of the tension leaves him. All but the ache between his legs. 

The slide of cold sheets helps a tiny bit when he covers himself up, and with one spare glance to the closed door, he guides his hand towards his dick. As if the gentle pressure of his palm could help him survive the mortifying match of being horny beyond any sane thought and having his friends over. 

He palms himself harder, but a thud too close to his bedroom's door makes him pull his hand back. It's enough to dampen his arousal so he turns on his side and closes his eyes in hopes the tiring day at work and the tiring dealing with his friends will be enough to make him doze off.

"—eve?" 

Something warm is touching his face, and he instinctively leans into it, sensing a familiar smell of home and safety. He hums softly to let the touch know it's welcome and appreciated. 

The touch chuckles. 

"Hi, love. Do you want me to stay? Everyone else has left," it says, and Steve suddenly remembers who touches him like that, who smells and feels this way.

"Eddie." His sleepy lips barely move, and he has to force his eyes open, but the sight of his boyfriend makes every sacrifice worth it.

"Hi, Steve." Eddie smiles sweetly and leans down to place a kiss on his temple. "You can go back to sleep, I'll take a shower and join you."

"No," Steve protests weakly, and grabs his wrist to tug him down. Eddie laughs. 

"I'm still in my clothes," he protests.

"Skill issue," Steve mumbles, rubbing his face higher and higher up the arm that's slowly succumbing to his pull. 

Eddie snorts. 

"Sure."

Accepting his fate, he uses the one hand left to him to unzip his pants and awkwardly pull them down, along with his boxers. He kicks them down and off, and sits on the mattress to pull off his socks. Steve is wrapped around his waist immediately. 

"Does that mean you're not mad at me?" he asks quietly, caressing the arm around his stomach. 

"Not really," Steve admits, voice muffled against Eddie's shirt.

"I'm sorry for teasing you in front of everyone," he says anyway, squeezing Steve's hand. "I know you don't like it. And I probably should have waited with the party until the weekend, but you know how Dustin is." Eddie twists in his hold to lay down as well. 

"You should have," Steve agrees, readjusting himself to lay next to him, pressed along his side. "I've been waiting to get my hands on you for the past week, and you tortured me by inviting all our friends." Technically, Dustin did, but that doesn't feel relevant right now.

"Yeah?" Eddie smiles in the dark, his eyes glimmering with interest. "Had any plans in mind?" he asks curiously.

"A few," Steve admits, before swiftly throwing his leg over him, straddling his thighs to pin him down. "Like going to your place and spending the quarantine with you. Doing nothing else but fucking," he confesses, sliding his palms slowly down Eddie's arms until he can slot their hands together. As he kisses his knuckles, his hips start moving just as gently. Eddie's breath hitches. 

"Day and night, the whole week, until I give you a baby."

"Ohfuckingjesus," Eddie whines below him, his hips making minuscule movements almost subconsciously. 

"Would you want that?" Steve asks, pressing their entwined hands to the mattress, hovering above him. Eddie arches further into him, feeling trapped in the most delicious way.

"I'd love that."

"Say it. Say you want my baby."

Eddie exhales loudly to find his voice.

"I want your baby inside me. With your pretty moles and your pretty hair, and my stupid dimples."

"Oh fuck." Steve presses down harder, and Eddie can feel his hard cock inches away from where he needs it. He leans down, body heat acting like a magnet, but when Eddie angles his face for a kiss, his cheek gets bitten instead.

"Hey—!"

"I love your stupid dimples."

"How about you kiss me, then?" Eddie says grumpily, trying to wriggle out of his hold and get what he wants himself. His heart isn't really in it, though, and when Steve finally settles his body weight on top of him, he relaxes into a puddle of pale skin and tattoo ink. 

He parts his mouth for a kiss, licking into Steve hungrily but easily giving away the dominance. As loud as Eddie liked to live his life, it felt good to give control to someone he trusts. 

So he lets Steve take care of him, kissing him just right, soft enough to know he's loved but with passion that reminds him of why they are here.

To fuck like rabbits and fill Eddie's womb with cum. 

He arches up into Steve, stuck between his thighs and frustrated that he can't wrap his legs around him and pull him close. His dick catches on the hardness between his legs, but the angle is all wrong, and his lower back protests the stretch. Eddie moves his hands down Steve's sides and slides them right under the waistband of his boxers to grab a handful of ass and move him however he likes. 

Steve bites his bottom lip before moving away with a chuckle. 

"Needy," he purrs, nipping at his lips, his jaw, his neck. 

"Well, I was promised breeding." Eddie gasps at a particularly hard bite. "But you're still not inside me, ah—!" he yelps when Steve thrusts down hard, which must be uncomfortable in this position. Eddie's legs would definitely hate it. "Show off," he mutters breathily. "Come on, use these muscles, baby daddy."

Steve growls, and Eddie suddenly feels very small. He loves it. 

"Say it again," he demands, hands sneaking under his shirt.

"My baby daddy," Eddie croons, and Steve's hips start pumping against his bare, hardened dick. "Oh, is that why you were so prissy?" he realizes, eyebrows quirking. "I was making you horny in front of our friends, and you couldn't do anything about it?"

"Mhm," Steve hums, too busy sucking a hickey into his pale skin.

Read full on Ao3

tagsies: @blasvemous @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[xvysarene]

𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕕

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader Prompt: “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you.” Words: ~2.5k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Antagonist MC, Mentions of wounds

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

His childhood friend exuded energy just as vibrant as her Anhausen class Evol, captivating those around her with her bubbly demeanor.

However, beneath the cheerful façade lay a calculated use of charm, a trait you couldn't help but notice, especially in her interactions with Zayne.

As a senior hunter, your responsibilities included supervising new recruits, and you discerned her manipulative tendencies over time.

“Just because you've seen me at my weakest, you’re not entitled to pass judgment on those dear to me. It proves how I've known her longer and better, as she would never stoop so low as to speak ill of you. I don’t need you babysitting me.”

Quick to defend his adored friend and seemingly caught up in emotion, he voiced those unfavorable words your way.

You knew Zayne was a direct person, but being on the receiving end of those words hurt. Especially as you later realized that you harbored feelings towards the cold doctor, feelings that had unknowingly woven into what you had always believed to be a purely platonic friendship between the two of you.

“—and you’re here because?”

His voice jolted you out of your reverie.

Somehow, standing in the exact spot where your last conversation occurred, resulting in months of silence between the two of you, had clouded your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, trying to focus back on the present moment. “Greyson and Yvonne have been trying to get in touch with you.”

When news about Dr. Zayne taking recuperative leave had spread like wildfire throughout the UNICORNS, you had considered reaching out to him. 

Your fingers had hovered over the phone, composing and deleting messages repeatedly.

In the end, you completely abandoned the notion altogether when you heard his childhood friend’s not-so-subtly mentioning her plan to visit and cook for him while chatting with the short-haired girl from the Data Analysis sector.

“I’m fine,” he managed to huff out after a while.

Taking a swift glance at the unexpected mess on his kitchen counters—scattered papers and remnants of food packaging—you challenged him. “I thought we had moved beyond the superficial ‘I’m fine’ responses when asking about each other's well-being.”

Zayne didn’t reply and you noted that he had absentmindedly leaned his long legs against the kitchen counter as if seeking support from it.

“You, the Chief Cardiac Surgeon of Akso Hospital, someone who enjoys his lack of free time, couldn't possibly have felt ‘just fine’ after being placed on recuperative leave.”

“I wasn't aware that you still kept tabs on my whatabouts," he retorted, eyes slightly gleaming competitively. However, they lacked the usual spark; instead, they hinted at tiredness and something indefinable that looked familiar but you couldn't quite pinpoint.

“I understand that your friend has probably visited you, but my great buddies insisted I come and check on you. They didn’t want to pester, but after two days of no answer, they are beginning to worry.” You raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. “Though if I’m not welcome, I’ll leave you be.”

As you moved past him towards the front door, you felt yourself emotionally drained from the brief exchange.

“Why you, specifically?” his whisper caused you to stop in your tracks.

“They know we are—” you stopped yourself, “used to be each other’s confidant. They thought you might be willing to speak to me if not to them.”

He chuckled dryly. “Used to…”

His muttered words compelled you to turn. Your hunter’s awareness noticed how he had subtly shifted, leaning more against the counter with one hand supporting his weight while his body slightly hunched forward, facing your retreating figure.

His body trembled with involuntary shivers, and the silver-framed glasses that had been perched on his nose earlier now lay discarded on top of the black granite.

“What’s wrong?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

Your eyes instantly snapped to his arms, expecting to see the familiar bluish hue and the delicate, yet deadly patterns of ice crystals.

Instead, you saw fresh cuts on the back of his hand. Both of them.

A sound must have escaped your lips because Zayne quickly tugged at his light gray pajama sleeves, trying to cover his hands. He took a step back as he heard you stomping towards him.

Helplessly, he played a brief game of tug-of-war with you before yielding to your unexpected strength.

“What the hell,” you breathed out as you took the angry red marks marring his pale skin, making them stand out more. When you rolled up his sleeves further, you discovered fresh lacerations, a chilling reminder of the frost's icy grip.

You cupped his cheeks. It took his gaze a moment to gradually refocus on you, seemingly startled by the sudden skin contact. “Zayne, what happened?”

His lips were sealed shut. He began to resist, however, as you guided him towards his bedroom, but your hunter strength slightly won over his sluggish state.

Zayne watched you intensively check his wounds after you managed to get him to bed. They were more severe than the scratches you saw after you had cradled his frozen arms and succeeded in defrosting them using your Evol. It was when you found him beating himself up in regret for failing to save your partner during surgery.

As you stood up to fetch the medical supplies, his hand swiftly caught your forearm, surprising you with its speed. "You don’t have to take care of me," he insisted.

“Respectfully, Zayne,” you began, knowing he'd grimace at your next choice of words, “Fuck your pride and let me look after you.”

Seeing his familiar disapproving grimace at the brash word, you chuckled quietly to yourself. 

Your boldness and recklessness often clashed with his calm and collected nature, one that left people wondering how a friendship could blossom between two such opposites.

As the antiseptic scent filled the air and silence enveloped the room while you tended to his arms, memories flooded back to the griefful night when you had lost your partner.

He had treated your temporarily forgotten battle wounds after the frost had thawed from his arms.

“It’s not your fault,” Zayne had spoken softly as he cleaned your wounds.

Your breath stuttered, surprised by the doctor's attempt to console you. Many people regarded him as highly reserved due to the carefully crafted mask of indifference he wore.

"The other staff told me what happened. You couldn’t have known that he was bitten; a child Chlorostaga leaves a very small puncture, and it would only feel like an ant has bitten you. With adrenaline running high, he wouldn’t have felt a thing."

“He told me that his heart was racing unusually fast during the transport back,” you whispered, feeling the tears clouding your vision. “And I jokingly suggested he needed to do more exercise.

“He laughed at it until—” you forced down the bile rising in your throat before being able to continue, “until he suddenly collapsed from cardiac arrest. We were only a few minutes out before arriving here to treat our wounds.”

Zayne continued gently dressing your gashes as you recounted the last moment with your partner. “His last memory was of happiness with you, feeling fulfilled knowing he had once again protected Linkon City from Wanderers... With his trusted partner."

The tears you had struggled to contain finally broke through, cascading down your cheeks in torrents. He held you close that day, offering comfort until every tear was dried.

From that moment, a bond seemed to form between both of you, drawing you closer from mere acquaintances to individuals you could trust with your deepest emotions. Only a few had ever witnessed each other's vulnerable state.

In the present, you noticed his breathing had calmed, and the hazel eyes that had been watching you carefully moments earlier had closed as you finished tending the last cut.

Gently smoothing out the crease between his brows, you couldn't help but wonder how troubled he must have been. “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you,” you whispered, afraid of him hearing your secret.

You had tried to shield yourself from future heartache after you slammed his front door the day he had spoken harshly. Yet, seeing him so vulnerable, your caring for him only deepened.

Listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, an unexpected exhaustion washed over you like a tidal wave.

Sleep claimed you swiftly, and it wasn't until you felt Zayne's gentle touch on your shoulder that you awoke.

“You’re going to strain the muscle in the back of your neck sleeping like that.”

Still groggy from the unplanned nap, you couldn’t protest as Zayne easily deposited you to the space he occupied earlier, as if you weighed nothing.

Your skin flushed hot feeling his fleeting touch behind your knees. Blinking, you met his gaze as he settled back beside your feet on the bed, already looking much better than before.

As the heat from his body permeated the wool blend of his pajama pants, you could feel it warming the tips of your toes. “Are you feeling any better?”

He nodded, casting a glance down at his arms adorned with scattered adhesive strips. Awkwardness filled the air as you both grappled with the ever-present unresolved tension.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled softly. You looked up, startled.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated more clearly. His hazel eyes, appearing browner under the dim lighting, seeking yours. “For saying those hurtful words to you, for failing to accompany you on mourning day.”

Your eyes widened, surprised that he even remembered about the day that had occurred months earlier.

When he didn’t appear at the cemetery of fallen hunters on mourning day, an annual tradition to honor your late partner whom he couldn't save, you learned just how much he cherished his childhood friend.

While he hadn't explicitly promised to join every year, he had always done so without fail. At that time, you couldn't help but feel disappointed when you discovered he had spent the day with his childhood friend instead.

And perhaps, an ugly thorn of jealousy had begun to bloom inside your heart.

“Greyson gave me an earful after he found out about our... conflict, and then he pieced together why I was absent that day. Why didn’t you remind me?”

You broke away from his gaze, not prepared for the sudden query. “You are under no obligation to accompany me, so there's nothing to apologise for.”

“I absolutely have to apologise, for on the day you mourn for your late partner the most, I callously had fun with my friend.”

And there it was, his childhood friend once again stealing the spotlight in your conversation. You felt the barriers you erected creeping back into place.

“It's getting dark outside, I should head home,” you said, retracting your legs and hurriedly standing up.

However, a warm hand on your wrist carefully pulled you back down, knee bumping with yours.

“I was ensnared by my memory of her innocence from our childhood,” he confessed, voice heavy with regret. “She envied the deep connection we share and after overhearing your conversation with Yvonne, purposefully suggested a day trip to our hometown that exact day. She exploited my weakness for her gain, knowing my fond memories of our past together.”

Zayne tenderly unraveled each of your tightly clenched fingers, soothing the nail marks that had etched into your palm.

It was one of your bad habits, surfacing whenever anxiety and stress took hold. Ever the observant person that he was, it was something he was well aware of.

Your breath hitched as he wove his fingers with yours, larger palm easily covering your smaller one.

“I'm the one who foolishly let myself be blinded and stooped so low, wrongly accusing you when your intentions were nothing but good-hearted.” He swiped a hand over his face in frustration. “People praised me for my good judgement, but I evidently failed to make the most important one.”

“And so this happened?” you gestured towards his arms with your other unoccupied hand. “Punishing yourself because you felt guilty for your lapse in judgment?”

She had heard bits and pieces of what happened from Greyson. The Chief Psychologist in the hospital had noticed Zayne’s peculiar behaviour for weeks—moments of zoning out and evident emotional distress.

Not wanting to jeopardise his patient’s health, he agreed to take a leave until he felt mentally prepared to return to his responsibilities, which required a clear mind above all else.

“No, it's me losing myself because I've taken advantage of the only person who understands me; to the extent of hurting that one person who, despite knowing her for a shorter time, has selflessly always been there for me.” He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. “And fearing I may have already lost her, as I come to realize the depth of my feelings for her.”

You whipped your head to fully face him, face flushed at his confession. His gaze unwavering, trapping you with fierce affection.

“You don’t need to say anything—”

“Zayne—”

“I just want to let you know that I’m sorry for causing you pain—”

“Zayne, I—”

“And I would understand if you don’t want to do anything with me again after everything that’s happened—”

"Zayne!" You moved to cover his mouth and lost your balance in the process, tumbling together onto the bed.

Him beneath you.

As you stumbled, his hand found the curve of your hip, supporting you from falling on top of him. While his other arm remained thrown over him, fingers still intertwined with yours amidst the sudden movement.

You could see him trying to mask his discomfort, no doubt feeling some of the deeper slashes being tugged.

“God, you really need to shut up sometime,” you blurted out, catching Zayne off guard with your abrupt remark following his heartfelt revelation.

This close, you could see his pupils dilating at your close proximity, almost consuming the green in his eyes.

With profound confidence and a fuzzy feeling spreading inside your heart, you eased his mind. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The content smile painting his lips tugged at your heart. It was a genuine happiness that chipped away his usual cold demeanor. 

He squeezed your hip and slowly urged you to lay on top of him, a silent invitation to be closer. Strong arms circled around as you nestled your head against his throat, enveloping you in his scent—grounding, and slightly musky, like the scent of a forest after rainfall.

“I never want you to lose control of your Evol over me again,” you warned him, eyes closing as you felt his lips pressing on your forehead.

“I can’t promise, but—” he interjected before you could interrupt him. “I’ll work on myself for the better. It’s the least I can do for the one who holds the dearest place in my heart.”

When you opened your eyes again, you could finally pinpoint that familiar glint in his eyes, the one you noticed when you confronted him hours earlier in the living room; it was endearment.

As you lay down on his bed that night, fingers gently combing through his tousled midnight-black hair as he rested against your chest, it dawned on you that the glow of affection had been there all along, subtly shimmering in his eyes throughout the years whenever you were by his side.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[3d-wifey]

I've read that Johnny NSFW alphabet like 30 times, it was so gooddddd, there's been no good Johnny Cage smut or writing in general honestly. Your Johnny just feels so in character and you're feeding me crumbs, I need moreeee 🥺🥺🥺🥺 (that sneak peek made me levitate)

Show 'em Who I Belong To

Pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader Synopsis: Johnny has seriously pissed you off this time, like, royally. The "begging on his knees" kind of pissed off. But luckily, he knows just the thing to do to prove he’s sorry. Word Count: 2.58k Playlist: Here's a Johnny Cage playlist to read his smut or just get inspo from, I made it myself TW: Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, switch!Reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!Reader, Forgiveness, Making Up, Apology Sex, Vaginal Penetration, Recording, Sex Tapes, Exhibitionism, Begging, Hand Jobs, Grinding, Crying During Sex, johnny cage loves you, johnny cage is just really really dumb, celebrity!reader, No Spoilers, Making Out, "straight" couple, johnny's slutty little slacks, Johnny cage is a little shit, Pussy drunk, cock drunk, Praise Kink, simp johnny cage, no other canon characters show up in this, Smut, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut A/N: Since the poll I put on Tumblr voted for switch!Johnny, that's what I'm doing! This chapter will mostly be sub!johnny and dom!reader with a switch at the end. It's a bit of a mixed pov, but it's mainly from the reader's pov. Nothing but Dom!Johnny in the next chapter and sorry if the quality was lacking, I've slept a total of 10 hours in a span of 72 hours. CHECK OUT THAT JOHNNY NSFW ALPHABET I WROTE, IT'S CONSIDERED CANON TO THIS! Part 2 (tbm) Ao3

Your acrylics tap a beat onto the arm of the plush white couch as you read the tweet on your phone.

" Johnny Cage spotted cozying up on set with Co-Star. Has the star finally met his match? " Your nails stop and you glance at where Johnny kneels fidgeting on the floor in front of you before looking back to the screen.

He spreads his hands. "Okay, I know this looks bad." His voice floats in the otherwise quiet mansion. "But will you please stop ignoring me?"

You look down your nose at him. "Is this enough attention for you?" You sneer and he grimaces.

"My PR team cooked this up a while ago and they've been hounding me about it for ages. It was so unimportant to me that it sorta...slipped my mind." He shrugs and your glare hardens him. " C'mon , babe, it's just a little publicity stunt our agents had us do for the movie. It doesn't mean anything." He laughs and his nonchalance about the situation is pissing you off more than you already are.

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" You fume and his brows furrow. "This isn't funny, Jonathan."

" Oof, " he winces, "government name."

You're both celebrities, you know what you signed up for when you agreed to date him after years and years of his begging and truly horrible pickup lines.

You're not mad about the situation itself, not really. You've gotten into drama before loads of times to drum up hype around a new project, but nothing like this. At least, not while you were dating Johnny. 

You're mad that you had to find out about it from the trending page on Twitter along with a slew of concerned messages from your friends, family, and manager.

You scroll down and read messages concerned fans have posted, worried that you and Johnny have broken up or, worse, that he cheated on you. But you know that he knows that you know he wouldn’t dare.

"Look at this shit." You shove your phone in his face. The screen reflects off the sunglasses that sit low on the bridge of his nose and he squints as the brightness nearly blinds him. "'I hope this isn't how she finds out.' 'I'd be so embarrassed if I was her.' 'I knew Johnny wouldn't stay faithful for long.'"

He looks from you to the screen and then back to you. "...You're mad."

You stare down at him.

"You are un- fucking -believable.” You move to stand up, but he grabs ahold of your hips.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I'm sorry ! I didn't mean to upset you. Next time, I'll give you a heads up— I mean I'll run it by you.” Johnny corrects, pulling you closer when you try to pull away again. "What can I do to make it up to you, huh?" The muscles in his biceps flex against you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You try to stay firm, but it's pretty hard when he's pressing reverent kisses to your stomach.

You shiver from the coldness of his rings as he runs a big hand up your calf, traveling up your outer thigh to hook the hem of your dress at your hip before repeating the process up your other leg.

You want to stay mad—you are mad. This is incredibly careless and he didn't consider your feelings at all and...and you don't want him to think he can get out of trouble by kissing up to you. But, begrudgingly, you card your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"I'm still really upset about this, Johnny." You frown.

"I know, sweetheart. And I really am sorry. But, hey! I know something that'll make us both feel better." He grins up at you and you let him lead you back to the couch with a huff, dropping down once the back of your calves brush the white upholstery. 

“I’m sure you do.” You roll your eyes, spreading your legs to make room for him without thinking. “How would you —ahh !” You yelp at the sudden pinprick of pain on the skin of your inner thigh and it morphs into a moan when the pinch is quickly followed by a warm heat. You look down in time to see the pink of Johnny’s tongue as he licks over the tender spot—tender because he bit you like a damn dog!

“I’m sorry, what were you saying? I couldn’t really hear you over all those cute little noises.” You can feel the shit-eating grin against your skin as he talks. “You’re so sensitive. Definitely not a complaint—it does amazing things to my ego.” He laughs, hooking his hands under the back of your knees and pushing your legs up until the heels of your feet are balancing precariously on the edge of the seat.

He grips your hips, pulling you further down the couch and closer to his face. He moves your legs so your feet rest on his shoulders, the white polish of your toenails reflecting the light.

He leans in and you hold your breath in anticipation. You don’t want him to think he can just distract you and you’ll forget about being mad at him but—he leans in close to where the skirt of your sundress rucks up around your stomach, warm breath making you clench around nothing with each pant—but you like getting ate out almost as much as Johnny likes to do it.

You sigh as the warm, wet heat of his tongue drags across the damp seat of your panties. 

" Johnny. " You whine in frustration, fingers tightening in his sandy hair, as he pulls away as quickly as he came.

"Hold on, sweetheart. I think you're gonna like this." He grins, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. You pause as he unlocks it and presents it to you, camera on and recording you.

"What the hell are you doing?" You try to push as much disapproval into your voice as you can as you flip it from the front-facing camera to the rear one, but that’s an almost impossible task since he’s rubbing his nose up and down the crease of where your thigh meets your pussy. You end up sounding far more breathy than intended.

"What?” He grins into the camera. “You can watch this whenever you need a reminder of who I belong to." He says and if you weren't wet before, you definitely are now.

For as long as you’ve known him, Johnny has never been one to half-ass anything . It’s whole ass or nothing with him putting 110% into everything he’s faced with. However, when you first started dating, you hadn’t thought that would hold up when he had his head between your legs—yet another thing Johnny went out of his way to prove you wrong about.

The camera captures it the moment he pushes your panties to the side; he’s in his element.

There’s no preamble, no warning. Johnny dives in giving you no time to prepare for the shock of pleasure. You jerk away, but he holds onto your hips, hands becoming heavy weights you can’t lift. 

“You always taste so good for me, it’s insane.” He groans as your thighs try to squeeze his head, but he keeps them open easily. You sigh shakily at the casual show of strength. “I’d stay down here forever if you’d let me.” You bite your lip to muffle your soft moans, reminding yourself to steady the phone every few seconds, but forgetting to do so almost as soon as you do. But you can’t be blamed when Johnny gives head like he’s training for the Olympics; trying to break his previous record each attempt. You’ve been eaten out by people other than Johnny—of course, you have. It’s a requirement—but none of your past lovers come anywhere close to this. Johnny blows them out of the water every time.

That would be fine if you didn’t factor in his ego. Which would also be fine…any other day. But today, after the shit he pulled, you aren’t in the mood. This is supposed to be his way of apologizing, after all. So before he can get any ideas, you blink past the haze he’s put you in and grab the back of his neck. His back stiffens. He glances up at you and the shift is so swift that you doubt the camera even picked it up. His shoulders relax, almost limp against you, wide eyes going lidded as his grip on you softens.

“I know you can be louder than that, Johnny. I, hah , wanna hear how sorry you are. You are sorry, right?” You narrow your eyes.

His words are muffled since he refuses to take his mouth off of you, but you’re able to make out ‘yes’ and ‘princess’ which is good enough for you. Through the camera, you manage to get his pleading eyes and his hand unabashedly palming his bulge in the same frame and you smile around a moan.

"Are you hard, Johnny?" He doesn't hesitate to nod enthusiastically, and you feel yourself throb in his mouth. You're sure if your feet were on the ground he'd be grinding against your leg shamelessly. His body knows this too since his hips keep making aborted little thrusts, itching for relief from his tight gray slacks. "Heh, of course, you are. You can't help yourself, c–can you? Go on, then.”

He pauses, assessing you for a second to see if you’ll follow it up with anything else. You’re being surprisingly benevolent. He always has to work to earn your approval when you get like this, any pleasure he gets is dictated by you—not that he’s complaining—and that’s on the days when he hasn’t pissed you off. He honestly didn’t think he’d be cumming tonight, but he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 

He buries his tongue in you, licking from your pulsing hole to your throbbing clit as his hands work to unbuckle his belt and pull his dick out. He groans in relief once he’s free, squeezing the base of his dick so he doesn’t cum too quickly. You’re certainly not helping, shivering against him like a house in a storm and he moans in synch with you when you yank on his hair.

He freezes at the press of sharp nails at the nape of his neck. He shivers at the slight pinch of pain before leaning into it and you reward him with smoothing down the hair there. He stops the movement of his hands, but not his mouth.

“If you’re touching yourself, you’ll do it slowly or not at all. You wanna make it up to me, don’t you? Yeah ?” You hiss as he nods against you, mouth a tight suction on your clit. “Then you don’t cum until I do.” Normally he’s more bratty than this, making you fuck the submission out of him, but he must really be sorry because he does just as you say. He slows down as you instruct, his sharp brows furrowing as one of his hands grip the fat of your thigh. His other hand jerks him off haltingly like he actively has to remind himself to obey you. 

“You’re being so good for me, baby.” You gush, squirming in his hold. “ Mmh, s’fucking good.” You have to adjust your grip on his phone when he grunts at your praise, uncertain if you should jerk away or towards the vibrations. You run your nails over his scalp before yanking on his blond hair and he moans like a pornstar, hips thrusting into his hand. To the untrained eye—or ear—it seems like he’s playing it up for the camera, performing, but he’s always this loud. Especially when he’s got your pussy in his mouth.

It's almost embarrassing, the wet sounds of Johnny sloppily eating you out. Your moans mix with his and bounce around the mansion's walls with a filthy echo the longer this goes on. 

He stiffens his tongue and you know what he wants. You move your hand to the back of his head, gripping the soft strands to pull him forward. You thrust your hips with helpless, heady moans as you fuck his face. His heavy gaze burns through the camera to stare up at you with his tongue out. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk and he winks. You throw your head back, eyes closed with an obscene moan and he moves forward to press his nose against your clit, tongue flat as you move his head side to side.

“Johnny , mmh, ‘m gonna, f– fuck, ‘m gonna cum!” You cry and he moans into you in response. You glance down to see his foggy glasses riding low on his nose and he stares right back, brown eyes half open but full of lust. The apples of his flushed cheeks become accentuated, sharpening with his grin. The barest hint of teeth brush your clit before pressing against it and you jerk back with the strength of your orgasm. Your mouth falls open with a repeated whine of his name, legs shaking as you hold his head still.

“Damn.” He curses, pulling away when your muscles untense. He doesn't bother wiping his mouth, wearing your slick like a trophy as he smiles into the camera. “Should’ve got that on camera. It was a money shot.” You scoff, smiling despite yourself. You pull his glasses off and sit them on your head before you press stop on the camera and toss the phone on the couch beside you, pulling him to you by the open collar of his button-up. You kiss him deep, tasting yourself on his tongue with a groan. His hands go to your hips and you wrap your legs around his waist, licking into his mouth. 

“You played dirty.” You slide your hand down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as you go. You grab his dick, still hard and leaking against his stomach. He laughs before whimpering into your mouth at your touch, rutting up into it. You swipe a thumb across his tip where precum drips down the underside of the head. "You're so wet, baby. This all for me?" You pull away to lick yourself off him, tongue dragging across the skin of his chin as you twist your wrist with every upward stroke. 

"Are you joking? O–of course. Can, shit , can you blame me?” He puffs into your neck, hot air warming your neck as you alternate between licking and kissing his jaw. His fingers spasm around your hips, and your hands fly to his shoulders when he pulls you forward until your ass is barely on the edge of the couch. Now he’s in the perfect position to—

You gasp as he ruts against you, still sensitive as his dick slides between your pussy lips. There’s no friction with how wet you both are and with every upwards thrust he bumps your twitching clit. 

“Wait, I’m— mmnh —Johnny, I’m sensitive.” 

“Ah, ah, sweetheart. You said I can cum when you do,” you jump when he nips at your neck, strong arms wrapping around your back holding you tight to him. “Besides, I’m not done apologizing.” You rock against him despite your complaining. The overwhelming feeling only increases when he bends over you to reach something, and it’s enough to distract you from the sound a phone makes when you press record.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 3- Crossed A Few Lines | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.7k

Your heart raced at his reply. You were both mildly beating around the bush, but there was no denying the pull between you. A shiver ran down your spine, your skin tingling with anticipation. You smiled to yourself, your fingers already flying across the keyboard in response. You knew you were pushing boundaries, stepping into uncharted territory, but a part of you was thrilled by it. You had always wanted to see how far you could go with Trent, and now you were finding out.

The seconds that passed after you sent the message felt like hours. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, loud and fast, and your entire body was alight with anticipation. You didn’t know what would happen next, but you were ready to find out, whatever it might be. He was sitting downstairs in the cinema room with your brother and the boys, trying to keep it together. But after reading that text, there was no staying focused on the movie. He excused himself, saying he wanted a glass of water, but instead, he found himself sneaking upstairs, toward your room. His mind was racing, his pulse thumping in his ears. You heard a soft footstep outside your door and your breath caught in your throat. He knocked lightly but pushed the door open before you had a chance to respond.  The doorknob turned slowly and your body tensed with anticipation. Trent stepped into the room, a figure in the dim light, your eyes adjusting to you two alone in your bedroom, taking in his athletic frame and handsome face. This wasn't the first time he'd been in your room, but it was the first time he'd seen you like this-laid out on your bed, bralette barely holding you in. laying there ready for him. His breath caught in his throat. 

"What you doing sending me pictures like that?" Trent's voice was low, but you couldn't read whether he was mad or something else entirely. You shifted slightly, suddenly a bit nervous.

"You didn't have to come up," you said, trying to gauge his reaction. Was he angry? Your heart pounded in your chest, waiting for his next move.

"That's not what I said," he replied, stepping closer, eyes darkening. "I'm down there with your brother and our mates, trying not to think about your tits." His voice was rough, and his eyes were lit with something you hadn't seen before. You smirked, knowing you had him. 

"Do you like them?" you asked coyly, cupping them and pulling your bralette down a little lower to reveal just about everything you could without being completely exposed. You couldn’t risk that, what if he rejected you again. Trent chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You're fucking dangerous. Where did this confidence come from?" He asked you with a dangerously handsome smile. You sat up slightly, your smirk deepening. 

"I've always been like this." You cooed seductively but you couldn’t hold back a slight giggle. 

"Nah," he said, stepping even closer. "You've never moved like this before."

"I'd never kissed you before," you pointed out.

"That good, huh?" he teased, clearly loving this back-and-forth. You tilted your head, your eyes locked with his.

"I could ask you the same thing. You're here, aren't you?" Trent laughed softly, the tension between you now thick enough to cut with a knife. He knew the moment he walked into that room, there was no turning back. You were desperate to feel his touch. He padded across the room and climbed onto your bed, and it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. His movements were confident and purposeful. Trent was in your bed! You felt like you were about to black out.  

“C’mere.” He commanded you and you shifted, reaching your arm out towards him grabbing the back of his neck as he positioned himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel the hardness of his cock against your thigh. His lips found yours in a hungry kiss, and you moaned into his mouth, your hands gripping his hair as you pulled him closer. Trent's kiss was demanding, possessive, and you loved the way he took control. His tongue teased yours. It was like you could taste the sweetness of the moment you’d longed for. His hands roamed your body, caressing your boobs, your stomach, and thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your nipples pebbled against the thin fabric of your bralette, you arched your back, offering yourself to him. Breaking the kiss, Trent trailed his lips along your jaw and down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He nibbled on your ear, whispering how much he wanted you, and you moaned in response, your body throbbing with need. You felt his hand slip between your thighs, cupping your heat, and you spread your legs instinctively, granting him better access. His fingers teased your clit through your panties, and you bucked your hips, desperate for more.

“You like when I touch you, baby?' he murmured, his voice husky and deep. You’d dreamed of this moment for ages and it was proving to feel better than anything you could’ve imagined. 

'Y-yes,' you panted, your eyes screwed shut as you focused on the sensations flooding your body. Trent kissed his way back up to your mouth, silencing your moans with another passionate kiss. His hand moved to unclasp your bralette, the suddenness of the fabric falling off you causing you to gasp. Trent had seen you in bikinis, he’d see you wear tank tops with no bra but this… This was a dream come true. Your tits on full display just for him. He paused, his thumb brushing gently over your peaked nipple, and you whimpered, wanting him to take more. Then, with a swift movement, Trent took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hand squeezed and massaged the other. You cried out, slapping your hand over your mouth to quiet your pleasure, your head throwing back as pleasure spiked through you. You could feel his teeth slight nip the skin, sucking purposefully.  He left a hickey on your boob, marking you as his.

“That's the only type of bruise you should be getting from a man… from anyone,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “Got it?” You nodded, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. 

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your body tingling with a mixture of pleasure and a sense of protection and ownership. Then, without warning, Trent rolled off the bed. You opened your eyes, your body still buzzing, and watched as he straightened his clothes and ran a hand over his slightly messed up hair.

“I gotta get back downstairs, pretty girl”' he said, a cheeky grin spreading across his face as he looked at your half  naked, satisfied form. 

“Wait… where are you going?!” You yelped as your chest heaved and your pussy throbbed with need.  Just as the intensity was rising, Trent suddenly pulled back. You could see his breathing was just as heavy, his eyes dark with desire. The smug smile still there, one that made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip with frustration. "Trent, what—" you began, but he silenced you with a soft, almost teasing kiss on the forehead, but not without his thumb brushing over the blooming bruising forming from his lips.

"I really should have to go," he said, his voice low and rough, still tinged with the heat of the moment. "They’re going to wonder where I disappeared to." His grin widened, a playful glint in his eyes, as if he was well aware of the effect he was having on you. You blinked, completely taken aback. 

"You’re leaving? Now? I… what?" you asked, your voice incredulous. You could hardly believe what you were hearing. You could hardly believe what just happened. You had just been on the edge of something incredible, something you’d been craving for so long, and now he was pulling away? Trent nodded, clearly enjoying the power he held in this moment. He stood as if he’d just won some secret game, his eyes twinkling with mischief. You watched him, your body still tingling with the remnants of the heated encounter, a mixture of shock and frustration bubbling up inside you. "You’re really just going to leave?" you asked again, your voice laced with disbelief. Trent leaned down, his lips teasingly close to yours, hiis thumb moving to trace your cheek. 

"For now," he murmured, his lips ghosting yours, his tone promising more. "But trust me, Y/N, I’m not done with you. Not by a long shot." And with that, he turned and slipped out of your room, leaving you lying there, breathless and bewildered. Leaving you alone, nothing more than kisses and a love bite darkening to remember him by. Your hand reached up to touch the mark he'd left on your boob, a reminder of the intense passion that had just played out. A satisfied smile played on your lips as you snuggled into the bed, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. The door clicked shut softly behind him, and you could hear his footsteps receding down the hallway, back toward the laughter and chatter of his friends and your brother downstairs. You stared at the closed door for a moment, your mind racing. You couldn’t believe he’d just walked away, right when things had started to get good. A mix of frustration and longing coursed through you, making you roll over in bed with a groan. You buried your face in your pillow, feeling the heat still lingering on your skin where his hands had been.

"Ugh, Trent," you muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused into the now empty room. He had left you wanting more, and he knew it. You couldn’t decide whether to be angry or impressed by his restraint—or maybe his nerve. But one thing was certain: he’d lit a fire within you, and you knew he was right this was far from over. As you got ready for sleep, you wondered what the morning would bring and whether Trent would be back for more. The possibilities were endless, and the anticipation was already building for another encounter. You need to get yourself off after that because you weren’t sure you’d ever been so horny or wet in your life and he only kissed you. You guessed being left needy was better than being left without him at all. 

And so the floodgates had finally opened. Things were much better between you two than they were after the rejected kiss at the club which was great except now the uncertainty and the possibility of when and if he’d ever kiss you again loomed. The air was thick all the time. So what now?  After that stolen moment in your bedroom, you couldn’t stop thinking about Trent. Every glance, every word shared between you was now charged with a new electricity. So when the next movie night rolled around, you found yourself eagerly anticipating Trent's arrival. The minute he walked in, the air seemed to crackle with unspoken tension, a shared secret that only the two of you understood. As everyone settled in for the film, Trent offered to share his blanket with you, a casual smile on his lips. Without a second thought, you slipped under it, your body naturally leaning into his. The dark cinema room felt cozy and intimate, the movie playing softly in the background. You nestled closer to him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, his arm slipping around your shoulders, pulling you in tight.  It was so dark in the room no one could see just how close you’d gotten. You were tucked away in the back of the room, hiding from the other boys and hiding from how much you were excited by this.  The room buzzed with murmured conversations and laughter, the movie flickering on the big screen. But to you, it was all background noise. You and Trent were tangled up together under the blanket, caught in a kind of intimacy you hadn't allowed yourself to imagine, even with all the flirtation and stolen glances. You’d always sat together but this? This was new. As you drew your knee closer to him, his fingers dug slightly into your thigh, grounding you with a touch that sent your heart racing.

"Can you just-" he grumbled, gently grabbing your leg and pulling it over him fully, letting you feel the firmness of his thigh under yours. "Your knee was digging into me." He smirked, his voice hush. 

"Sorry," you laughed, but the apology didn't feel genuine. You wanted to be close, closer than you had been, closer than maybe you should’ve been. "Are you sure this is... okay?" you asked, glancing up at him, your voice softer than you meant it to be. His gaze held yours, intense but teasing. 

"Y/N, you're good," he murmured, his fingers squeezing your thigh as if to reassure you— and then pulling you even closer. "Just come here, yeah? And shh." That small smile, that bit of warmth in his eyes, it gave you all the permission you needed. You leaned into him fully, your body curling up next to his as he adjusted the blanket, his arm draped protectively over you, and his hand resting on your hip. His fingers grazed your skin just above the waistband of your shorts, making your pulse thrum louder than the movie. You couldn't hide your smile, feeling bold and bashful all at once. Then, without really meaning to, you moved your hand over his abs, tracing the outline of muscles under his shirt. It felt natural, like you'd done it a hundred times, though the thrill in your chest reminded you that you hadn't. Trent let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at you. Absentmindedly you let it drift a little too low for Trent to be able to manage.

"You’re not watching. I told you you’d like this one.” he smiled again, one brow arched with that familiar, teasing glint in his eye. He picked up your hand and moved it up a little bit. You sheepishly let your eyes shut, feeling awkward that your hand was unintentionally so close to somewhere you were dying to explore but knew that this was definitely not the place for.

"I’m tired," you shrugged lazily trying to move away from the tension,  giving a little smile, your voice soft as your hand remained on him just marginally less suggestive. It was almost like you were in two conversations. One spoken, one physical. 

“I'll fill you in, alright?" He pulled you even closer, his voice low as he murmured, There was something in his tone that made your heart skip—a promise in the words that went beyond explaining a plotline. His hand moved lower on your hip, fingers dipping under the waistband of your shorts just slightly, warm and firm against your skin. It felt like the start of something, an unspoken acknowledgment of what had been building between you.

"Thank you." Your voice dropped to a whisper, playful but shaky with the thrill of it all. His eyes met yours with a look that made your breath hitch. You weren’t really thanking him for the offer but rather what his hands were doing. Reassurance. He had just given you reassurance that your hands on him were okay.  He hummed, his tone rich and warm, a slight smile tugging at his lips. His hand traveled a little lower, grazing over your ass beneath the blanket, his fingers pressing into you in a way that made your whole body tense with anticipation.The energy between you was thick, charged in a way you couldn't ignore. His thumb brushed over your skin slowly, each stroke sending waves of heat through you as he molded his hand to your curves. You glanced up at him, not bothering to hide your reaction anymore. And then, without saying a word, he leaned back and guided your head to his chest, pulling you into him fully. His hand stayed possessive on your hip, his fingers lazily tracing circles, his touch both gentle and thrilling. You settled against him, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. You yawned quietly, the warmth and security of his embrace lulling you into a drowsy state as you rested against him. You felt your eyelids growing heavy, yet every brush of his hand on your skin kept you alert, the push and pull of relaxation and excitement making your head swim.

"Okay?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper as his fingers drifted up your side and back down, lingering at the edge of your waistband.

"I like your hands on me," you whispered, emboldened by the warmth of his embrace and the way he was holding you like you were his to protect. Trent chuckled softly, his breath warm on the top of your head. Your lips parted to say more, but no words came out. You wanted to say something, to let him know how you felt, but his arms around you spoke for themselves. So, instead, you closed your eyes, your body melting further into him as his hand slipped under the waistband of your shorts once more, more daring this time. His fingers brushed over the curve of your ass, his touch possessive yet tender, a promise that you were the only thing on his mind.

"Shhh," he whispered, his tone teasing but comforting. "Relax"  He cooed, telling you that you didn’t need to talk, not right now. And as you lay there, wrapped up in his arms, the line between you disappeared entirely. His hand traced lazy patterns on your skin, each touch soft and lingering, leaving you breathless yet more at peace than you'd felt in ages. You closed your eyes, letting yourself fall into the warmth of him, knowing that things between you had changed and would never be the same. The film ticked on as you were curled up against Trent, head resting on his chest, peacefully asleep. Noah went to grab something to drink and spotted your oh so cozy moment. He grinned, unable to help himself.

“Lads, I feel like I pulled the short straw in this friendship,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. “How does Trenty end up with Y/N on top of him for a movie night?” Noah cheekily spoke, not loud, but enough for all the boys to hear, but quiet enough for you to stay asleep. Trent tried to keep a straight face, shrugging it off as the rest of the boys chuckled. Jack, however, didn’t laugh. His eyebrows furrowed, and he turned around, finally noticing the cozy scene unfolding on the couch. You’d always sat next to Trent but this… This was a proper cuddle. 

“Hey—” Trent held up his hands defensively, moving them slightly away from you, though he’d definitely been resting his hand all over you a moment ago. “Innocent, alright?” he mumbled, hoping Jack wouldn’t press too hard.

“Isn’t she in those—” another friend piped up with a smirk, catching himself just in time as he met Jack’s warning glare. You were in tiny biker shorts, and the guys clearly noticed, but Trent’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to Jack before shooting his friend a look of caution.

“Mate,” Trent muttered under his breath, the unspoken warning clear. Jack shook his head, his expression softening just slightly but not enough to let you two off the hook. 

“Embarrassing. Y/N, get the fuck up,” he said, voice half-exasperated, half-amused as he swatted toward you, though he didn’t make any real effort to wake you. Trent looked down at you for a second, his arm slyly stayed around you as if he couldn't bare to part and selfishly he didn’t want to disturb you because he didn't want you to move.

“She’s not bothering me, mate,” he replied casually. “Honest.” Jack groaned, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the movie.

“Gross. Just keep your fucking hands to yourself, bro.” he muttered, though there was an undertone of resignation, like he was used to this now knowing there was a line that hadn’t been crossed. A satisfied smirk crept onto Trent’s face, and he shifted slightly under you, settling you more comfortably against him. He glanced at Noah, daring him to say anything more. Trent tried to be nonchalant but whatever unspoken thing existed between you had come bubbling up to the surface. Jack cared too much about you to embarrass you or to wake you right now. You were his little sister but that line often blurred when it came to things like your relationship with boys. Often, he acted as a best friend, he’d listen to you rant about how bad a guy was at flirting and he’d enjoy it and then other times you’d simply wear something he didn’t like and big brother Jack would storm back. Depended on his mood, depended on what he thought of the guy involved. Jack didn’t see Trent as a threat and so he let you stayed as is. As Noah walked out of the room he got closer to Trent and you. 

“How focused are you right now trying not to get hard?” He laughed in a lower voice joking with Trent. This humor wasn’t new. Sure, did Noah push boundaries a lot, yes, he knew the time and place for it though. But Jack always was a good sport, probably better than most would be because up til now no one dared try anything with you. He knew you were objectively pretty and boys liked you. He’d be naive to think otherwise and so he took his friends' jokes light heartedly and just as that… jokes. Trent’s face got a little flushed from Noah’s teasing. 

“Mate…” he murmured with a look that said don’t push it, but Noah’s grin only grew. Jack turned back from the screen, catching the exchange. He chuckled, 

“You better not be, Trentski,” though he laughed it off, turning back to the movie, clearly not sensing anything serious. Jack had long written off the way you and Trent interacted as harmless banter. He’d seen you two sit together during movie nights before, even team up during games, and he figured it was just easy camaraderie. Like another older brother figure in his innocence. Though lately, Trent was acting far from like a brother to you. The guys finally simmered down, letting the movie carry on in silence. You shifted in your sleep, snuggling deeper into Trent, and his arm instinctively curled around you. Jack glanced over to check if you’d woken up yet but found you even more comfortably nestled into Trent’s chest. But Trent still remained coy, the arm under the blanket stroking your skin, the one out of it showing innocence. Jack shook his head, unable to hide a grin.

“Such a baby,” he teased, looking at you. Then, with a chuckle, he nudged Trent’s foot with his own. “Seriously, man, wake her up. She’s heavy, bro.” He teased using something false about you as an excuse but Trent kept his gaze on the screen, giving a casual shrug. 

“Yeah, I will after the film. She’s fine,” he replied nonchalantly, though his hand shifted protectively around you. Jack started to object, a glimmer of confusion crossing his face, but the movie pulled his attention back just as a loud crash exploded on screen. As the film’s intensity increased, Trent’s attention stayed divided—partly on the screen but mostly on you, feeling your warm weight leaning into him. The tension was undeniable, yet somehow it felt natural, like an unspoken secret only the two of you shared, hidden in plain sight. You nestled in closer, murmuring his name with a sleepy whimper, oblivious to everything around you. Your quiet murmur of ‘T’ melted into the air. Your body shifted against him naturally, instinctively, pressing into his warmth like you belonged there. Trent froze, his entire body tensing at the way your breath brushed his neck, at the gentle graze of your lips along his collarbone. His hand hovered, uncertain, before he finally placed it back down on your waist steadying you. Trent's hand moved reflexively, slipping just beneath the edge of your shirt, his fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist.as But the warmth of your skin, the subtle weight of you against him, sent a shiver through him he couldn't hide. At first, he thought maybe he'd imagined it-that your soft, whispered ‘T’ was just some sleepy mumble, meaningless. But then you did it again, and the way you shifted, nestling even closer, made his pulse race. Your body had moved in a slow, subtle grind, your warmth pressed against his thigh, and Trent's hand tightened instinctively, his fingers digging slightly into your hip to keep you in place. He swallowed hard, glancing around. Noah and Jack and the other boys were all engrossed in the movie, thankfully oblivious to the tension simmering under the blanket between you and Trent. He let out a silent breath of relief, but his mind was racing. Every nerve screamed at him to move, to put a little distance between you and him before he lost control. He couldn’t though, he loved this.

You had conked out like a light, comforted by his embrace but exhausted from your week. You were a heavy sleeper and right now the only thing occupying your mind was the last thing you thought before you fell asleep. Trent. You remembered the way he felt in your bedroom and now he was underneath you. Your subconscious was in overdrive. And then you murmured again, a barely audible whine, and his grip on your hip tightened just slightly, holding you close. His thoughts spun as he tried to focus on the movie, on anything other than the way you felt against him, but it was impossible. His heart pounded with the overwhelming urge to pull you fully onto his lap, to guide you through the motions you were making so innocently in your sleep. The things he wanted to whisper in your ear... ‘Just like that,’ or ‘Good girl, keep going’ -things that made him clench his jaw as he struggled to stay in control. You shifted again, pressing your warmth more firmly against his thigh, and Trent's breath hitched. He knew he was in trouble, his body responding in ways that left no doubt about how he felt. He couldn't help it, couldn't help how much he wanted this, wanted you, and the fact that you were dreaming of him only fueled the fire simmering beneath the surface. He was so fucking hard he didn’t know what to do. But he couldn't do anything, not with everyone around, he couldn’t wake you up. So instead, he leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment to steady his breathing. He kept his hand on your hip, holding you protectively, as if to shield you both from the rest of the world. He could feel the weight of your trust, the warmth of your skin, and as his thumb brushed your hip absentmindedly, he felt himself sinking deeper into the feeling of having you so close. Just when he thought he might regain some control, you let out another soft sound, shitting closer. The sensation sent a jolt through him, and he found himself nearly holding his breath, praying no one would notice as he gently caressed your skin, savoring the warmth of you against him. The movie played on, but for him, everything else had faded. You were all he could focus on. Finally, he forced himself to ease back, though his hand lingered on your hip. With a deep, steadying breath, he whispered just barely above a murmur, "You have no idea, do you?"

When you finally stirred from your sleep, the movie’s credits rolling softly in the background, you were met with the gentle pressure of Trent’s lips brushing your forehead. The warmth of the kiss sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a rush of exhilaration, your heart fluttering wildly. It was instinct, it just happened. It was a tender moment, more intimate than anything you’d ever shared before. The simplicity of the gesture made you want to scream and call Layla immediately to share the excitement. You blinked awake, taking in the dimly lit room and the familiar sound of soft laughter and muted conversations. Although the boys had dispersed after the film ended—two had left the house, Noah had fallen asleep, another was starting a second movie, and Jack had already gone to bed. The room was quieter now, a calm settling over the space. You turned your gaze to Trent up, who was still holding you close. His arm was wrapped securely around you, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your back. You shyly smiled up at him, the playful glint in his eyes matched by your own.  You tried to act casual as you settled back into Trent, even though you were now acutely aware of every little shift, every breath, and the heat radiating between you. His hand hadn't moved from your waist, grounding you, sending a subtle but undeniable thrill through you with the gentle squeeze he'd given just before you tried to sit up.

"Comfortable?" he asked quietly, his voice laced with a kind of warmth that melted any lingering awkwardness between you. Trent chuckled, low and soft, his breath brushing over the top of your head. You bit your lip, nodding with a shy smile.

"Yeah... sorry for just falling asleep on you." You awkwardly told him feeling a bit guilty but not enough to move. 

"Don't be. I didn't mind," he murmured, his fingers trailing lightly along your back. "Couldn't bring myself to wake you up, honestly. You seemed like you had a good sleep." He chirped recalling just* how comfortable you had gotten. You were unaware of how much of your hand you’d shown. Nevertheless, you leaned into him again, the warmth of his chest so inviting that it made your eyelids grow heavy. Glancing around, you could see Noah fast asleep on the other side of the room, the glow of the screen casting soft shadows. 

"Maybe I should get to my room..." you whispered, knowing it was probably the right thing to do but reluctant to move still.

"Nah," Trent's voice was barely more than a murmur as he held you in place, his hand warm and steady on your hip, "Stay here with me." It was then you became keenly aware of the pressure against your thigh, the firm presence of him, his hard length, and a spark of curiosity and excitement flared in you. You stifled a soft gasp, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment, and as you nestled closer, his grip on your waist tightened, as if he didn't want you to go anywhere. "Not gonna watch?" he teased softly, his voice carrying that familiar note of playful challenge, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hip. Your gaze was set completely opposite of the screen. You shook your head with a shy smile, realizing your attention was entirely elsewhere. You could feel his eyes on you as you adjusted slightly, shifting so that your hand landed just over his lap, you palmed over his bulge but you didn’t do anything more. You were testing the waters. The slight intake of his breath didn't go unnoticed, nor did the way his gaze lingered, darker, more intent than you'd ever seen before.

"Okay," you whispered, cheeks flushing as you turned toward the screen, feigning interest while your hand subtly shifted, brushing over him going a bit further. His eyes flickered down, and for a moment, he looked like he was holding his breath, his gaze smoldering as he watched your every move. You felt bold, bolder than you ever had before, and the thrill of it only intensified as he let his hand slide lower, settling on the curve of your thigh. His fingers pressed gently, almost possessively, sending a shiver up your spine as you leaned back into him, the subtle tension between you deepening with each shared glance and unspoken touch. You stayed like that for a while. Hidden by the darkness of the room and the blanket. The movie played on, but for the two of you, it was as though everything else had fallen away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment. Trent's breath hitched as he felt you press against him, his face buried in the crook of your neck as if grounding himself. His fingers slid around your waist, holding you close, a quiet sigh escaping him as he struggled to keep his composure. He could feel you about to speak. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes warm and teasing. 

"Should I go... or...?" you asked softly, your voice barely a whisper. Trent's lips curled into a smirk as his gaze softened. You were asking a question with only one correct answer and you prayed he knew that.

"Stay with me. Seriously. In my room tonight," he murmured, his tone inviting but playful.  It wasn’t uncommon for the boys to use one of the guest rooms to crash if it was late, but tonight, the invitation felt charged with a different kind of energy. You hesitated for a moment, the tension between you palpable. It was clear that both of you were aware of the risks, the potential complications of crossing that line. But the pull between you was undeniable. The warmth, the closeness, and the flirtatious banter were too tempting to resist. You felt a thrill go through you, the weight of what he was asking settling in.

"Okay," you whispered, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, your cheeks flushed.

"Yeah?" he asked, brushing his nose against yours as his hand skimmed up your back under your shirt. "You wanna come sleep with me?" He asked through a whisper. You nodded, the warmth in his gaze making you feel bold and nervous all at once. He grinned, his voice dropping low. "Can't be this shy, though. Not in my bed."

"I won't be," you promised, your words barely audible but carrying a weight you both felt. You glanced around the room quickly to make sure everyone was still asleep, then leaned in, letting your lips find his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but then his hand found the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into him. You melted against him as he responded, his lips warm and inviting, and the room faded away, leaving just the two of you tangled in that quiet, breathless moment.

"C’mon" he whispered against your mouth, pulling back just enough to take your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The two of you got up off the couch, the boundary between friendship and something more blurring as you both stood up quietly, knowing full well that the night and your relationship was about to change. He led you down the hallway, both of you trying to settle your racing hearts and keep quiet. As you and Trent quietly snuck down the dim hallway, he was right behind you, his presence warm and magnetic. You felt his hands slip around your waist, pulling you closer. 

"If you don't want this, you need to tell me now. Because once we start, I'm not going to be able to stop myself." His breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in and whispered. The gravity of his words sent a rush through you, and you knew he meant every bit of it. Your heart hammered in your chest. This was really going to happen. Finally, you slipped into the guest room. Trent shut the door behind you softly, the sound barely registering as he turned and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you into him. It was obvious both of you were caught in the shared thrill of the forbidden. You looked around the room, taking in the stillness, and then back at Trent, who was watching you, eyes filled with lust, disbelief, and excitement all rolled into one. His gaze intense as he faced you, his hands reaching out to pull you close. His hands roamed over your sides, and you leaned into his touch with a soft, unbidden moan.

"Oh my god," you whimpered, feeling his fingers explore, his touch leaving trails of warmth. A quiet, smug chuckle slipped from his lips.

"Gotta be quiet for me," he murmured, brushing his thumb along your jawline, his voice low and teasing. You exhaled a shaky breath, 

"We can't go back after this, T." You cautioned him. There was a flicker of hesitation, a weight to the words, and you looked up, the heat and the excitement dancing in your gaze.

"I don't want to go back," he said, his hands pressing firmly against your back, drawing you closer until there was no space between you. "You want this? You want me?" His voice was rough and needy, the vulnerability almost hidden under his intensity. Without another word, you closed the distance between you, your mouth capturing his in a kiss that said everything you couldn't put into words. 

“So fucking bad," you murmured against his lips. The kiss deepened, growing more intense as his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you against him until you could feel every inch of him pressed to you. Every touch, every kiss felt like it had been building for years, and with each moment, the tension only heightened. Trent's hands roamed possessively, his touch a promise, while his lips moved with a hunger that left you breathless. In that room, with the door shut and the world outside, it was as if nothing else mattered but you and him, and the weight of everything you both had kept hidden. He pushed you up against the wall. You felt the hard plane of his chest against your soft tits, and your nipples immediately pebbled, betraying your desire. His hands were on your waist, and you could feel his breath on your neck as he nuzzled your scent. "T," you moaned, your eyes closing as you leaned back against the wall, offering yourself to him. He growled low in his throat, a sound that sent shivers down your spine, and then his mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting, marking you as his. You whimpered, your hands gripping his hair, encouraging him, wanting more.

"I've want you, baby," he murmured, his voice hoarse with need. "Want to know what you taste like, feel like, everywhere." His hands moved up your body, cupping your tits, thumbing your hard nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Take it off," you pleaded. "Please, Trent." You actually felt like you might have a heart attack, you just were so shocked his hands were actually on you. Finally, Your heart was beating so fast. His response was to pull your shirt over your head with an ease you didn’t know possible. He stepped back to admire the view, your full boobs spilling out of your lace bra, and then he sank in front of you, taking one hard peak and then the other into his hot mouth. You cried out, your hands fisting in his hair, holding him to you as he sucked and nipped, his hands squeezing and kneading your soft flesh. You could feel your pussy getting wet, could feel the juices running down your thigh, and you knew he could smell your arousal.

“Shhh, baby," he said, looking up at you with dark, heated eyes. "Gotta be quiet if you want me to keep going.” He cooed gently. He was so in control and you were so… not.  You nodded but then his mouth trailed down your stomach, licking and kissing a path down to the waistband of your shorts. Being quiet was starting to feel like and impossible task. He hooked his fingers into the fabric and tugged, slowly stripping you, his eyes never leaving yours. You stepped out of your biker shorts and kicked them away, now dressed only in your bra and panties. "So fucking gorgeous," he growled, his eyes roaming over your body. "Been wanting to see you like this for so fucking long, just for me to see." He stood then, and you could see the bulge in his pants, could see how much he wanted you. You reached for him, needing to feel his hard length in your hand. He moaned as you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slowly, gently.

"You like when I touch you?" you asked, your voice a whisper. It was teasing but it was also a genuine question. You two had never done this before. You felt like you were on another planet. It almost didn't make sense

"Fuck, yeah," he hissed, his hips bucking into your hand. "But I want to feel your mouth. I want you to be a good girl f’me tonight. Can you do that f’me?" He asked and you nodded. You didn't need to be told twice. You sank to your knees in front of him, your eyes never leaving his, and then you took him into your mouth, sucking and teasing, your tongue flicking over the sensitive head of his cock. He tasted his pre cum and it had you wanting more. You moaned as you took him deeper, your hands cupping his heavy balls. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you but not forcing you. "Good girl. Suck my cock. Just like that" A part of Trent was confused that those words flowed out of his mouth so easily to you… to Jack’s little sister but he couldn’t stop them, he couldn’t not twitch at the way your tongue felt on him.  This was everything he wanted. You hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke, your free hand wrapping around the base of his shaft, stroking and twisting as you sucked. You could feel his thighs trembling, knew he was close, and you wanted to taste him. After a while, Trent couldn’t manage any longer. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck baby, gonna make me cum," he warned, his voice tight with need. You sucked harder, faster, and with a muted roar, he came, flooding your mouth with his hot cum. You swallowed it all, moaning with pleasure as you milked him dry, your hands and mouth gentle as he rode out his orgasm. Slowly, he helped you to your feet, his eyes burning with desire, and then he kissed you, deep and hard, his tongue dueling with yours as he claimed your mouth. You could taste yourself on him, and it only made you hungrier for more. Breaking the kiss, he picked you up and carried you to the bed. He laid you on the mattress, crawling over you, his lips and tongue trailing down your body. He pushed your bra up, baring your tits, and took a nipple into his hot mouth, sucking and biting as his fingers pinched and pulled the other peak. You moaned and arched your back, your hands grabbing his hair, holding him to you as he lavished attention on your sensitive flesh. He suckled you like a man starving, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing and caressing, learning every inch of you.

"Please," you whimpered, your need building. "Trent, I need—" He cut you off by tugging your panties down your legs and settling between your thighs.

"I know what you need." He hooked your legs over his shoulders and blew a hot breath over your wet center, making you shiver in anticipation. "God, you're so fucking wet f'me," he groaned, his tongue dipping into your slit and tasting your essence. His mouth was magic, his tongue probing and flicking your clit, licking and sucking your juices, delving into your hole and fucking you with his tongue. You moaned and writhed beneath him, your hands gripping the bed sheets as he ate you like he'd never be allowed to taste you again.

"T please," you begged, your body tightening, coiling like a spring. "I'm close, so close." You whined. He hummed against your clit, sending vibrations through your sensitive flesh, and that was all it took. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as you came, your pussy clenching and releasing around his probing tongue.

"Good girl." He murmured against you. Slowly, he let you down, kissing and licking his way back up your body, and then he was beside you, pulling you into his arms, your heads pillowed on his broad chest. You could feel his heart thundering in his chest, could feel his heavy cock pressed against your thigh. "Oh my fucking god" you whispered, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. You felt dizzy form the best orgasm of your life and the fact that you were naked in front of Jack’s best friend.

"You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, baby." He told you and you hummed, unable to get anything more concrete out. “Not done with you.” He growled, his hands skimming down your back to cup your bare ass. "I want to feel that tight pussy around my cock." You shivered at his words, a bolt of need shooting straight to your core.

"Please, T," you begged, your voice thick with need. "I want you inside me." You begged. He rolled you onto your back and positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your slippery slit. You whimpered, spreading your legs wider, cradling his balls with your thighs, urging him on.

"Condom," you whispered, your eyes searching his.  With a nod, he rolled onto his back, giving you access to check the nightstand drawer, praying something would be in there. You scrambled out of bed and retrieved a condom, your naked body on full display. You’d think about why there were some in the room to begin with later because right now you weren’t complaining. He growled at the sight of you, his eyes roaming over your curves appreciatively. Back in bed, you sheathed him in latex, your hands stroking and petting, enjoying the weight and length of him in your hand.

"Come here... right now," he commanded you, his voice rough with need. Crawling onto the bed, you straddled his hips, positioning yourself over him. Slowly, you sank down, taking him inch by inch, filling yourself with his thick cock. "Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his eyes rolling back as you took him all the way to the hilt. “Good girl.” You moaned, biting your lip as you adjusted to his size, your inner muscles clenching around him. Slowly, you started to move, rising up and sinking back down, riding him with slow, deep strokes. Your tits bounced with each movement, your hard nipples rubbing against his chest. Trent's hands came up to cup your tits, massaging and squeezing as your hips worked, your bodies slapping together in a lewd, wet rhythm. "Always wanted to fuck you, baby," he confessed, his eyes burning into yours. "Been wanting this for so long."

"Shit, shit -Me too - shit - so fucking long," you admitted, your head falling back as the pleasure built. You didn’t know it was possibly for sex to feel so good. Something so wrong but so right about this. "Oh, T… Fuck this feels so good. Fuck, this is so good." You quickened your pace, riding him faster, harder, your juices flowing freely as your body worked towards another climax. Trent's hands moved down your body, one squeezing your breast, the other rubbing your swollen clit in time with your hips. This was so forbidden and it was making it all the hotter. 

"Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice thick with his own need. "Cum on my cock. Gonna fill this tight pussy with my cum.” His words sent you over the edge, and you cried out, your body shaking as you came around him, your pussy milking his cock. You’d never heard Trent talk like this and it had your brain short circuiting and evidently your pussy clenching tighter. With a groan, Trent joined you, filling the condom with his release, his hips bucking up to meet your downward strokes. Spent, you collapsed on top of him, your breath ragged, your heart racing. He held you tightly, kissing your sweaty forehead, stroking your hair, your bodies still joined. Hi hands stroking over your sore muscles.

"That was—" you started, but he cut you off with a kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth, tasting of you.

"Not nearly enough, baby," he whispered, his eyes dark and full of promise. "Not nearly." He rolled you over and you giggled as you made out with him, your arm awkwardly reaching to the bedside table again tapping around until your hand found another condom. “You don't fucking understand how long I’ve wanted you. I need more of you.” Trent told you kissing your neck as your arched into him, helping him put on another condom. 

“I've needed this forever, I need more, T. I need you." You answered him with a whine. He hummed in agreement but bit down onto your sensitive skin. You moaned loving every second of this, the fear and risk of it all faded and covered up by the passion and pleasure.  You needed more of him and so Trent gave you more. He fucked you again and again till you ran down to the last spare condom. You had orgasm you didn't know were possible; earth shattering, squirting, convulsing, life changing.

“I’m the only one that gets to make you cum like this.” He whispered against your skin slick and shiny after what you would consider a workout. Your pussy sore and throbbing from orgasm after orgasm. 

“You’re the only one who ever has.” You breathily giggled. The night’s darkness wrapped around you as you laid tangled with Trent, still basking in the warmth of each other's presence. You shifted slightly, and he caught your gaze, smirking with that signature confidence. "T… this was…I’ve never cum like that before in my life," you admitted, half laughing, half in disbelief at yourself for even saying it. The smirk that grew on Trent’s face was so obnoxious and so handsome you couldn’t believe it. "Oh god, l've fed the beast, haven’t I?" you sighed, trying to downplay the flattery you'd just given him.

"Nah, nah, just tell me it was the best sex of your life, it’s fine," he laughed, clearly amused.

"Stop!" you swatted playfully at his bare chest, cheeks warm from both laughter and lingering shyness. He pulled you in closer, his arms wrapping around you with ease.

"C'mere," he murmured, voice softer now. "I'm kidding. Just want to make you to feel good, baby. I’m glad I was able to." He kissed the top of your head and then said, "I'll tell you something, how about that...”

"Hm?" You looked up, curious.

"Never came that hard in my life. That head? The first time I came inside? Fucking hell, baby. Fighting for me life,” he confessed with a low chuckle, eyes softening as he looked down at you.

"Really?" you asked, the innocence in your tone betraying just how surprised you were.

"Y/N, you've been flirting with me for 10 years," he laughed, shaking his head as if the entire situation was surreal even to him. "I was dying." You giggled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. 

"I thought you lasted a long time… longer than I thought you might.” You giggled. 

"Oh, well I'm glad you think that." He grinned, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. You gave him a playful smile, nudging his shoulder. 

"A very valiant effort." You smiled. He raised an eyebrow, leaning in close. 

"Mm, so best sex of your life?" He teased. But the thing was… it probably was true. 

"Shut up!" You laughed, burying your face into the pillow. But then, after a beat, you nodded. "But yeah was top." You laid draped over him, feeling his warmth seep into you as your heart started to slow. 

“Yeah, Top.” He concurred quietly. You shifted a little, clearing your throat.  

"I guess I should..." you began, feeling a slight wave of shyness creep back in.

"Nah, Y/N…" Trent's voice was soft but firm, a small smile tugging at his lips as he pulled you closer. "Stay here with me for a bit. I don’t want… just stay. Gotta make sure you're good after all that.” A smile spread across your face as you nuzzled into him, settling comfortably against his chest. You knew it’d be a bad idea to sleep in the room, making the risk of getting caught much larger but leaving so soon felt weird. Trent could sense that tension. It was… awkward in the logistics but not in the feelings blooming. 

"Okay," you murmured, letting yourself sink into the moment. You felt so comfortable with him but it was also simultaneously terrifying. Both emotions coexisting and fighting for the top spot.

"Such a good girl f'me," he muttered, his fingers tracing light circles on your back. The comment made your heart skip a beat, though you tried to brush it off. In any other situation you wouldn’t have batted an eye but now in post nut clarity you were almost shocked hearing that come out of his mouth again. 

"You can't call me that anymore," you said with a giggle, feeling a little flustered, though it was hard to deny how much you liked it.

"What?" he laughed, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Baby, we're in bed. I think we've crossed a few lines here."

"Yeah, but it's..." you trailed off, trying to come up with a reason, but the words slipped away as he looked at you.

"C'mon. You were so good f'me, taking my cock," he teased, the smirk on his lips both infuriating and irresistibly charming. The memory of the way his hands had explored you, how he knew exactly how to make you fall apart, sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed, feeling your muscles tense as you tried to come up with a retort, but before you could say anything, he brought a finger to your lips. "Shhh," he murmured, "you like being a good girl for me. It's okay. Just lay here.” And so you took his finger in your mouth teasingly. He had you and he had you acting like a complete mess for the dick he just gave you. The way he looked at you, his eyes half-lidded and full of a quiet, possessive affection, made your pulse quicken. And as you lay there, the weight of what had just happened settled around you. It was a dangerous game you were playing, but at that moment, wrapped in Trent's arms, it felt like the only place you wanted to be. You fell asleep like that tangled with him. It was the best sleep of your life. Your body sore but you’d never felt more alive. 

“Shit…” you mumbled as the soft morning light filtered through the guest room curtains, casting a faint glow over you and Trent as you woke, wrapped in each other’s arms. You were still half-asleep, but the weight of the situation hit you all at once—the fact that you were cuddling with Trent in your house while your brother, Jack, was likely just upstairs, god, you prayed not downstairs yet. Panic fluttered in your chest as you glanced at the clock on your phone. “I have to go,” you whispered, trying to sound casual, but the urgency in your voice betrayed you.

“Nah.” Trent’s response was a lazy, contented hum as he buried his face into your neck, pressing a kiss against your skin. It was so bad how good that felt. 

“I have to go soon,” you corrected yourself, trying to wriggle free, but Trent’s arms only tightened around you.

“Definitely not soon,” he murmured, his lips trailing against your collarbone. You laughed softly, even though your heart was racing.

 “What? Do you have some sort of death wish? Jack would kill us both if he found out.” Trent grinned, his hands gently caressing your back under the covers. 

“At least we’d die together.” He cooed. You tilted your head to look at him, surprised by how calm he was. 

“You’d really risk it? For a cuddle?” His brow furrowed slightly, a look of confusion crossing his face. 

“Mmm.” He hummed with a sleepy raspiness. 

“You never struck me as a cuddle person.” You smiled letting your hands run over his arm skin. 

“What are you on about? I’ve cuddled with you before.” He smirked knowing very well this was a radically different type of cuddle. You were naked. 

“Yeah, but that was… innocent, right?” You asked, suddenly unsure. Everything felt different now—charged with the weight of what had happened between you.

“Was it really though?” Trent smirked, raising an eyebrow.  Your eyes widened as your stomach did a little flip. 

“I don’t know!” you yelped, your voice half a laugh, half a nervous squeak. He shifted slightly, turning to face you more fully. He said your name slowly, and your pulse quickened as he locked eyes with you. The conversation shifted from what you were doing now to talking about what you had been doing before.

“Come on. I always cuddle with you because it felt right. I feel like we have a good time, I like spending time with you, and…” He hesitated for a second before continuing, his voice dropping lower. “I didn’t exactly mind if it led somewhere.” Your breath caught in your throat at the openness of his words. His hands continued to trace soft patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You could feel your cheeks warming, and you looked away shyly.

“I don’t mind any of those reasons,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Good,” Trent whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, pulling you even closer. Giving in to the temptation, you let your fingers continue their slow, teasing dance across Trent's chest, savoring the feeling of his skin under your fingertips. His breath hitched as you traced over every ridge of muscle, and you could feel his body heat rising with each delicate stroke. "Alright. Stopppp," Trent groaned, his voice low and husky, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer instead of pushing you away. His head fell back against the pillow, a helpless laugh escaping his lips. "You always do this. You’re turning me on. Stop!" He whined complaining in typical Trent fashion. 

"Do what?" you teased, feigning innocence but unable to hide the smirk playing on your lips. He shook his head, glancing down at you with a mix of frustration and affection in his eyes.

"This. The nails, the way you touch me, like you don't know exactly what it does to me. You drag your nails over me in specific spots you know will get me thinking. You do this everytime we just chill or like even if we’re taking photos! You’re such a tease!” He accused you, his voice trailing off, his hands slipping beneath the blankets to rest on your hips, fingers tightening just slightly. "You're always teasing me.” He smirked. Your manicure pulling across his skin. Your smile widened teasingly, dragging your nails across his chest again, but slower this time, more deliberate. Trent's groan was deep, the kind that sent shivers down your spine.  “Ohhh so you know you’re doing this? Wow I see. Innocent cuddles such bullshit from you as well.” He laughed, shaking his head. His hand on you slipped higher, skimming your waist. His touch was possessive, warm, and the way his fingers brushed your skin set your pulse racing. He let out a breath, as if trying to compose himself, but you could see the effect you had on him.  "You're not as innocent as you pretend to be," he said, tilting his head to look at you more seriously, his lips twitching with amusement. "You know exactly what you're doing." You giggled, leaning into his chest, feeling your cheeks warm as you tried to keep your composure. 

"Okay, maybe I do a little," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"A little?" He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. 

“Don’t make it out like I’ve had some long game plan,” you giggled, though your heart was racing at how close you were, how his hands were pulling you closer, his warmth seeping into your skin. Trent's gaze softened, his hand still resting on your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. His voice dropped, more serious now. 

“No? “He inquired with a raised brow and a smirk You swallowed, heart pounding. 

"No, maybe just hope.” You shyly told him, glancing up at him. His smirk faded into something softer as he shifted slightly, turning more toward you. 

"Yeah?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with a kind of gentle curiosity, his hand sliding higher up your side, his touch now more comforting than teasing. "I'm glad you did.” The weight of his words hung between you, unspoken but understood, and suddenly, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you in that moment-his warmth, his touch, his eyes locked on yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You both just lay there, wrapped up in each other, the blanket pulled tight around you as if creating your own little bubble of warmth and secrecy. Trent's fingers brushed over your skin again, a slow, deliberate touch that made your breath catch. You shifted slightly, letting your fingers continue their teasing exploration of his chest.

"You know," you whispered, leaning in closer until your lips brushed the curve of his ear, "I didn't mean to drive you crazy." Trent chuckled softly, his breath hot against your neck as he tilted his head toward you.

"You did a pretty good job of it anyway," he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. "And you're still doing it." You hummed in response, your lips curving into a smile as you let your nails rake over him again, watching his eyes flutter shut. 

"Is it really all that bad?" you whispered, your voice playful but with a hint of challenge. His eyes flicked open, locking onto yours, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you again. 

"It's bad because I can't think about anything else," he said, his voice rough with desire. "You've been driving me mad for a long time." The tension between you was thick, but instead of pulling away, Trent's hands slid back to your hips, gripping you just a little tighter. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, but not quite closing the distance.

"Is that so?" you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest as you tilted your head, letting your lips hover just over his. You wanted him to close the gap, to take what he'd been holding back, but you also wanted to savor the moment, to stretch it out just a little longer.

"Yeah," he whispered back, his breath hot on your lips, his hands tugging you even closer under the blanket. "You're not going anywhere." He cooed. You grinned, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you tilted your head, lips barely grazing his.

 "Not yet," you whispered back, enjoying the game, the push and pull between you two. Trent's eyes darkened with desire, his grip tightening on you as he leaned in just enough for your lips to finally touch in a slow, searing kiss that made every nerve in your body ignite. His hand tangled in your hair as the kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melting into him, every playful tease forgotten as his lips claimed yours.  The worry of Jack finding you almost disintegrating entirely by Trent’s lips on yours.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 4 - Saturday Night xx

[joocomics]

connection

day 24 — anonymous sex w/ jooyeon ⌞⌗ kinktober ⌝

♡ this is a collab w @xhfics read her camboy!o.de fic here!

𓂃⠀𓈒 camboy!jooyeon x fem!reader

genre: smut ( 18+ ) ── 2.9k words

✎… switch!jooyeon, anonymous sex, slight roleplay, cam sex, mutual masturbation, usage of toys (fleshlight), light sub/dom dynamics, dirty talk, voice kink, praise kink, pet names, jooyeon goes by the nickname jay

( kinktober masterlist )

You were just about to check the time again when the bartender called out your usual coffee order. You rush to the bar to pick it up and after you wave at him for goodbye you check your phone again, although, you’re aware it’s pointless - not even a minute has passed.

But it's been almost two weeks since you last watched him and you're excited, impatient, and needy.

Your last private session was a week and a half ago, and his stream - last Saturday, - which you didn't get to see, because you had a four hour drive home. You can’t help but wish that time could pass quicker.

As you hurry to get home so you can have enough time to shower, you realise that your present must have arrived safely, which results into your mind wondering... Has he used it already? Does he even like it? Is he going to use it in front of everyone or is he going to keep it a secret and use it only during your private sessions?

Is he willing to turn it into something yours? Something little that connects the two of you a bit closer through your computer screens, and a bit stronger than the tips you send him.

Once you've showered and got dressed in a cute pajama set, - shorts and a top with thin straps going around your shoulders where your skin radiates a nice floral scent from your body lotion, - you rest back against the cushions of your bed and turn on the laptop.

After all this time, you still feel silly for sticking to this routine, because he can't feel how soft your skin is; he can't inhale your perfume or run his thumb along your lipstick, and he's probably never going to. He doesn't even see your face, nor you've ever seen his.

But all this effort helps you control your nerves and boosts the confidence you need in order to go through this hour.

You take a sip of your iced coffee, another must have to keep yourself calm, and place it back on your nighstand as you log into your account.

You're just on time; soon the familiar silhouette appears on your screen.

“Finally”, Jay sighs once he lays eyes on your figure. His voice sounds as usual - low, restful and at ease, - despite not seeing his face, you can tell that he's smiling. “Baby girl, I missed you… Where have you been?”

You adjust the volume to hear him better meanwhile he leans back in his chair, manspreading leisurely and waiting for you to type your answer.

wild cherry: i was out of town for a few days

“Without me?” He asks right away, effortlessly maintaing the boyfriend role which he agreed on playing; as a small thank you gift for the amount of money you sent him a while back.

You wonder if he acts like this for other girls. With his growing popularity, he most likely does, maybe that's why it comes to him so naturally at this point.

wild cherry: i'm on a semester break and my family organised a short trip

wild cherry: i missed you too <3

“Ah, that's nice baby.” He says after chuckling at the little heart at the end of your message. “I want you to rest well and save some energy for me. We have a lot to catch up on.”

Seems like he cannot wait to include your surprise into the conversation, because he brings it up before you get the chance to even ask if he received it.

“I got your gift.” His arm reaches forward, providing you a close look of his long neck with vivid adam's apple. “You're gonna spoil me, baby.”

wild cherry: you earned it

wild cherry: you're a good boyfriend, jay

wild cherry: do you like it?

“I'll admit, I've never used things like this before,” he twirls the clear fleshlight with his hands, genuinely intrigued by it. “It's always just me and my hand, you know? But I'm down to try many things for my pretty girl.”

The compelling motions of his slim fingers distract you from the keyboard, tempting you to wonder how they would feel on different parts of your body. As you force yourself to look away, you notice that everything in his room is exactly the way you’ve last seen it, including the acoustic guitar in the corner - which makes you think that his fingers must have skills. And which makes you question if it has something to do with the reason he’s here... doing this.

“Is that a new set you have on? Looks good on you, baby.”

wild cherry: yeah, i wanted to wear something new for you

“So sweet, I appreciate it, love.” He leaves the toy on his desk while moving his other hand over his crotch.

You're so immersed in his voice that you're not sure when exactly the boner has grown in his pants. He palms it gently, but doesn't do nothing more yet.

wild cherry: looks like you're excited to try your very first toy

You hear him chuckling and it's the most attractive laugh you've ever heard. He sounds flustered, but also turned on.

“I want to find out how close it will feel to your sweet pussy. Hopefully, a lot.”

wild cherry: that's why i picked it

wild cherry: i want you to use it with your eyes closed and imagine it's me

“I already do that with my hand, baby. Now, tell me...” He lifts his hips up just enough to tug down the waistband of his sweats. “Is that what's on your mind when you touch yourself?”

You feel your face grow hot as you follow the movements of his hand. You love how he's never in a rush of anything. He takes the time to savour every second of the pleasure he gives himself, and - you.

The groan that comes through the speaker as he makes the first few strokes, slow and deliberately, makes your tummy swirl, but you compose yourself enough to answer.

wild cherry: yeah, every time

You're in the middle of typing your next message, but his husky voice steals your attention. It's something you've been meaning to send several times now, hopefully you won't chicken out again.

“Fuck, this is the second time today,” Jay admits while slowing down his hand even more, “I got hard earlier when I saw what time it is.”

Your heart flutters at his words. The growing heat in your core causes you to sigh as you can't look away from the erotic scene; from the way he lifts his palm to spit on it before proceeding with the gentle twists.

You wish you could see his lips at least. You wonder what their shape is; how they look when he smiles at your messages.

“It's so difficult not to touch myself when you're on my mind, baby. Just knowing I'm gonna see you in an hour makes my cock so fuckin' hard.”

wild cherry: baby, you don't need to hold back anymore

wild cherry: get your toy

Your gaze fixates on his pale skin after he gets rid off his clothes. His slim body floods your mind with images where you run your hands up and down his chest; each one doubles the arousal you feel lingering wildly.

“Fuck!” Jay groans from relief as he slips inside the transparent shape. Inch by inch, his cock gets swallowed entirely while its walls rub his thickness from all sides. “Mmm, baby, this feels nice. How did you know I'll like it?”

wild cherry: the important thing now is that it makes you feel good

wild cherry: you like being inside me?

“You really are wild, aren't you, pretty?” He asks with a tint of playfulness in his lazy tone before groaning louder as his oozing tip reaches the deep end of the toy.

wild cherry: don't get distracted, baby

wild cherry: i want to hear more of the pretty sounds you make for me

Seconds after you hit send, you hear a much more tender moan as a result. You bite your lip, watching his hand grip tighter, forcing it down his length more eagerly than a moment ago.

“Feels so fuckin’ good, god—“ His mellow voice draws out each word as he gets extra heated. “Bet you’d feel even better, baby girl.“

You smile, glancing down; your hands are sweating from the rush as your fingers tap on the keyboard.

Everything is so much more exciting when there’s no rising numbers of viewers to distract you, when there’s no filthy comments piling up on your screen or buzzing sounds of money interrupting his speech.

wild cherry: imagine it's me, baby

wild cherry: i'm taking your cock and it feels so good

“It does,” he agrees right away, jerking his hips up one more time; as if you’re there, sat on his lap and chasing the same peak as him. “Shit, you’re so tight—“ his voice turns thinner as the noise from his cock gliding through the fleshlight starts to become more obvious, more lewd and intense.

Instead of typing that message you were planning on sending earlier, you decide to just take action. You pull down your shorts and lean back against the headboard of your bed, but with your legs separated in front of the camera.

Jay's hand slows down extremely. You catch his soft cussing as he must be comprehending what's actually happening in front of his eyes.

“I... You don't have to do this, cherry,” he stutters a bit which you find adorable. “If you don't want to you don—“

wild cherry: but i do

wild cherry: i've been wanting to for a long time

“You're so pretty,” he sighs in bliss as he allows his hips to buck up gently; to continue building the warm rush with the erotic stirring view intensifying his desires.

wild cherry: keep looking at me until you cum

wild cherry: can you see how wet i am for you?

“Shit, yeah, I do…”

His moan reaches you in a higher pitch that shoots right through your core. You can’t resist it anymore - your fingers find your sensitive spot and caress it gently.

“Cherry,” he mewls, going out of breath, “gonna cum all over your pretty pussy, baby.”

It’s clear he’s having trouble keeping his voice steady while speaking. The words come out of his mouth quick and shaky, but as you lower your fingers down your folds, and slip them into your pool of arousal, you realise they have even stronger effects on you like that.

“That’s what you want, right, doll? Fuck, I want that too… want to see my cum all over you, baby.”

You can’t force yourself to be gentle or slow - you begin to pump your fingers as fast as you can while keeping your focus on the screen.

“Shit—“ Jay drags the fleshlight away, groaning desperately at the sudden lack of stimulation, but he quickly gets back into it after standing on his feet and gripping the edge of his desk to steady himself. “Fuck, I’m so fuckin’ close—“

Your room fills up with the lewd noise emerging from between your thighs as you move your hand quicker.

The image of him standing sideways, gripping the desk and fucking the clear toy with sharp greedy thrusting causes your palm to hit your folds harder. You’re not trying to match his rhythm; it just happens that you’re both moments away from reaching your peaks and somehow your bodies end up synchronising.

“Cherry, I need to hear you, please,” you hear the boy spit out as you see few strands of his brown hair dangling in the air as it seems his head hangs low. His hips slow down a bit, his tone drops even lower: “I want to hear your voice before I cum.”

You swallow while excitement bubbles inside your chest.

You unmute your microphone, then slightly lower the desktop screen to make the intimate view as best as possible.

“Should we cum together now?” You ask, wetting your fingers more and placing them back where they were.

“I knew you’d sound sexy.”

You moan softly as you glide through your gummy walls in aim to resume the nice pace from earlier. His compliment makes you chuckle though which causes the boy to giggle after you.

“I bet you look sexy too,” he continues as he moves his hips forward once; then twice. “I’d fuck you so freakin’ good...”

“Shit, Jay” you sigh, placing one hand over your boob, “I want to feel your cock so badly… Go faster, baby.” Jay’s fragile moans guide you to the edge as you force your fingers repeatedly against your sweet spot; just like the head of his cock that’s bumping into the end of the toy.

“Keep talking to me, baby,” he begs not slowing down, “don’t stop, fuck—“

“Jay, it feels so good, please—“ you go silent for a moment as you feel the rush intensifying a crazy amount, “fuck me harder, please! I need you, I’m s-so close!”

“Fuck, I’m—“ He stops, unable to continue as his mind turns blank.

Seconds after, the warmth inside you bursts.

You let your blissful moaning elevate higher, hearing it blend into Jay’s low whines that crawl out of his throat one by one.

Because he always cums on his stomach you’re guessing that he wants to keep this tradition going. After he sits back down in his chair, he lets the thick release spill out of the fleshlight, and dribble down his tummy.

For a moment, there’s just silence between you, except your overwhelmingly loud breaths, until he quietly murmurs:

“Thank you for this, cherry.”

You smile shyly as if he can actually see you and by a habit you reach for the keyboard.

“It was my pleasure,” you admit, disliking how formal it sounds, but you can’t think of anything better to respond with. You’re not used to speaking to him… with your voice.

“I appreciate your gift, baby, and just so you know I’m going to be using it only whenever you want me to.”

Your eyes widen a bit from hearing these words.

So it is going to be your thing.

“We’re gonna make a good use of it.” Your heart starts to thump quicker with joy.

Your index finger roams along the edge of your laptop as you wait for a response, but one doesn’t come for a few seconds; they almost feel like minutes to you.

Your eyes focus after you notice Jay shifting in his seat; his one hand takes a hold of the armchair as his body slightly leans forward.

“Are you a coffee drinker?” He asks, catching you off guard.

You almost forgot about the coffee besides you.

“Oh, yeah, few times a day.” You chuckle before taking the cup to take a small sip.

“Does it say wild cherry there too?”

Now you really begin to feel the strong curiosity in his voice.

“No, I use that only for you.” You don’t receive a reply right away so you continue: “For my coffee order I use another nickname that one of my friends came up with actually.”

You guide the cup close to the camera so he can see the nickname you’re talking about.

Jay reads it out loud very slowly.

He doesn’t comment on it which disappoints you a little bit, but there’s no way you can find out that it’s solely because his mouth went dry immediately after.

“Do you drink coffee?” You decide to ask so you can fill the ongoing silence.

“Venti iced shaken espresso with splash of oatmilk and four pumps of caramel. Is that your order?” Jay asks instead of replying to your question. “The one you have only during the autumn season.”

“How did you know?”

“Because I make it for you every week.” He laughs; a bit flustered, very surprised, and as if he’s on the verge of jumping from his chair.

You keep staring at his frame with disbelief.

Can what’s running through your head right now really be the truth?

“I thought your voice sounded familiar,” he thinks out loud while his hand goes up to his face which you still can’t see.

“How did I not recognise yours?” You ask more yourself than him. “You sound different.”

“Yeah, uhm,” Jay stands up to grab his sweatpants. “At work I use my customer service voice… to sound more bubbly and exciting you know? When I’m here I just… relax.”

Before you know it, you can see the familiar face. The one you see almost every day - charming, bright, with a pair of captivating brown eyes that you’ve wished several times you could hold onto for a little bit longer.

Jooyeon, as his badge says. Here’s why you didn’t see him at the cafe today.

“I will not say a word about this,” you adjust the screen so he can see you now too. He immediately smiles at the sight of your face. “I promise.” After he nods with appreciation, you decide to ask the question that’s probably not going to leave your mind all day if you keep to yourself. “Will this change anything?”

Jooyeon’s eyes glance down for a second as they seem to concentrate. When they look back up at you there’s a noticeable glimmer inside.

“I think it just made things even more interesting.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[pandj0ra]

© uvuyai 2024

ძᥲᥡ 2 ~ һᥙmіᥣіᥲ𝗍і᥆ᥒ + 𝗍ᥡіᥒg ᥙ⍴ [EVENT]

Yandere! Blade x FEM! Reader

–genre. Smut, nsfw

–tw. Blood, skin carving, humiliation, skin writing, non-con, creampie, sadist!blade, spanking, porn with plot(maybe), size difference, stomach bulge, choking, overstimulation, possessive behaviors, blade is called ren, mentions of the hard R in the beginning, neglect, degradation, reader is blades reincarnated lover, prone bone, MINORS DNI, non consensual touching, nipple play, SW and Kafka is helping blade, headlocking, dub-con, blood,

–synopsis. You've been kidnapped by the swordsman of the Stellaron Hunters and brought to their headquarters. It's Valentine's Day and he planned something special.

Mari/yai's message – just know i was very uncomfortable with writing this. I've been drawing lately so it's been a while.

You were tied up in the basement of the Stellaron Hunters headquarters. You were just walking down the streets of luofu till you were grabbed into an alleyway and a cloth covering your mouth and then you inhaled chloroform, passing out into the person's(or thing) arm. When your captor brought you back to where they lived, they introduced themselves as Blade but he told you to call him ren.

Blade. As in the wanted criminal and part of the Stellaron Hunters?

After a while he got tired of your useless attempts at escaping (mostly snitched on by Kafka or Silverwolf by telling blade you escaped.), and then forcefully forced himself onto you. After that he left you.

He would come back occasionally if Kafka told him so if he didn't want you to die. He would bring you clothes and food to keep you alive and helped you take care of your hygiene. You didn't eat in front of him and just pretend to be asleep most of the time in the corner of the mattress.

You tried talking to him but couldn't since your stuttering held you back and you couldn't make eye contact with him since he fiery red eyes would stare into your soul, stunning it immediately.

He brought you stuff like a note book to draw or use it as a diary. Since you barely could get your words out, you wrote ‘Why did you kidnap me?’ on a page. He only muttered the word “Lover” and left it at that.

Well today was Valentine's day as you'd know by the calendar beside your bed. You still didn't love him or let yourself develop Stockholm Syndrome. If you could tell, he hated it.

You behaved well for the days, months, or even years he captured you. He let you out of your ropes and lets you walk around the basement. Various furniture was added like a desk that faced a window(that was very hard to break), a bed set, and a built in shower.

Silver Wolf gave the glory to Blade that he can have one of her old games but he decided to give it to you so you wouldn't be as bored when he went.

Kafka came down and called out for you. You raised your head from your pillow and looked at her with sleepy doe eyes. “C'mon dearie, Blade will be home soon and he has something planned for you.” she grabbed your forearm and dragged you to the bathroom and ran you a bath as if you were her child. She helped you shave your legs(and everywhere else including pubic) and did your hair into something simple. She gave you pink Valentine's Day themed lingerie undergarments to put underneath the white lace night gown.

You wished you knew why Blade suggested Kafka to give you this. The clothes fit you nicely. Your mind was all over the place as you thought about how Blade got the correct measurements of your bra and panties.

Kafka led you out of the bathroom and back to your bed and went back up stairs and came back down with a low black gift box. She skied the top off the box to reveal red ribbons. The box was branded so it must've been from a sex store or somewhere that was expensive. You thought it was for your hair otherwise it's weird to come in a box like that.

Kafka placed her hands behind her back and closed her eyes and let out a pitiful sigh. “I'm sorry, dear.” Before you could turn around something rough and hard hit the back of your head. It put you to sleep on impact.

She dragged your body to your bed and threw you on your bed, grabbing the ribbon and tied it tightly around your legs and wrist. The extras went around your waist and torso. You were truly a beautiful doll. She wrapped soft cloth around your mouth and eyes. Just breathe through

She left the room and as if on cue, Blade stepped through the door. In his deep voice, he spoke. “Did you do what I asked?” Kafka nodded her head and gave off her signature smile. “I did but I had to neutralize her because she was struggling too much for my comfort.” she was obviously lying. He could obviously tell too.

He stepped his way to the basement where you were. He heard distant whimpering and sobs which were coming from you. He reached you and noticed your squirming. Your breath hitched as you heard boots stepping your way. The ribbons were hurting way too much to even ignore for a bit.

“Hey waterlily, It's really disappointing how you didn't behave for her.” he breathed. “You should be punished for that. I see she did most of the work.” you heard something slam on the nightstand next to your bed.

He hooked his finger underneath the blindfold to reveal your doe stricken eyes.

His lips lifted into a smirk while he trailed his bandaged fingers from your face to your collarbone. He noticed your squirming got more vapid. You shook your head as you didn't want him to continue.

His hand ripped the strap that was holding the gown, revealing your covered breast. Your face felt as if it was burning from embarrassment. He pushed you onto your back and got on top of you. Your muffled protests became unheard as he grabbed scissors and cut the straps from your bra, removing it, and revealing your tits.

“You look like a slut... Begging for someone's attention.” he laughed. “That someone's attention you want is me.” he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a knife and a permanent marker.

He slid the knife down your torso, the force was enough for it to draw blood. He leaned down and lapped at the blood while maintaining eye contact with you. Tears ran down your face and dried ones were replaced.

He fully discarded your dress and panties and threw them somewhere on the bed or ground. He used his gloved hand to finger you. Your slick immediately gathering on his hand. “Has all this fear got to you? I would've mistaken you for being a masochist, y'know.”

He unbuckled his pants and slid down his boxers that revealed his large, thick throbbing dick. It was flushed red at the tip and a white bead of precum was drooling from the slit. He thrusted two fingers into your cunt. He wanted to prep you since it's been a while since he had done anything with you. The stimulation was overwhelming. You desperately tried to kick him away but he grabbed your waist and replaced his finger with his dick rubbing against your pussy. Your juices covered the downside of his dick.

He leaned back to position his dick between your pussy lips. He thrusted up into your pussy, hitting your spongy spot on impact. A little blood covered his dick as well. A bulge would pop up with each thrust of his hips. Your scream was muffled and you leaned your head back on the pillow. You were biting at the cloth that was covering your mouth. It was covered in your saliva as well.

Blade hooked a finger underneath the cloth and pulled it down. Your breathing was harsh in a way that if it was cold, air would come from your mouth. As his thrusts started to pick up and your juices webbed his whole dick, he picked the knife back up and started to engrave a letter below your tits. The letter was his initial, the letter ‘B’. The icy hot pain was all over your body(it wasn't but it felt like it but mainly between your thighs), Blade licked the blood up, enjoying the metallic iron taste from it. His dick landed painful hits to your cervix, making you grimace at the feeling.

During that, yelps, whines, and moans were heard through the basement. If you were loud enough, Kafka and Silver Wolf would hear.

His thrust got more erratic. His thrusts were sure that by the time he finished your pussy would be gapping open and molded into the shape of his cock. You tried to cover your moans by turning your head to the side and trying to muffle them as much as possible. Blade was quick to grab your face, squishing your cheeks together as he got up in your face while looking at your unfocused eyes filled with tears. He trailed his eyes down back to where he drew the letter below your tits.

He slowly itched a small cross(which was a plus sign,) and after a while, he carved your first name initials after. It looked like those cheesy trends where it shows what initials are meant to be for example; B + Y. He did all of this while keeping his thrusts while you squirted your juices onto his lower abdomen and cock. He grabbed the permanent marker and drew a small heart around the heart.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and squished you against his chest. He rocked his hips back and forth and wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you steady. “You are such a slut. Nothing but my cum dump.” The cold permanent marker touched your skin, sending shivers down your spine and to your core. He wrote a few words like “CUMDUMP”, ��SLUT”, and “Blades/ren's property” on your back. He placed a few humiliating words on your collarbone so anyone could see it and also remind him what you are to him.

You pussy clenched around his dick, signaling your. “You wanna cum, yeah? Then cum. Cum for me.” he said between grunts. Your string of moans and mewls of being overstimulated, he released his cum inside you. Your stomach was slightly bloated and thick, sticky cum leaked out of your cunt and onto the bedsheets(it had little bubbles in them and stuck together like a spider web).

Blade was quick to flip you onto your stomach with your ass in the air. He grabbed the knife and released your wrist from the ropes binding them together. Your wrists were finally able to breathe. His rough hands grab at your wrist, pulling them to make you arch your back further.

He angled his cock back at your entrance, pushing his hips forward and his cum and your juices acting together as a secondary lube. The movement of his hips grew faster as time passed.

He leaned down to where his chest was touching your back. He resumed his torcher and thrust into you so hard he could break into your cervix and split you apart. His hand snaked up to your neck, squeezing it slightly so it wasn't hard enough to stop your breath. He used it to angle your head so he could kiss you. You moaned into his mouth and drooled all over his tongue.

His thrust started to get sloppy and he felt your breath get harsher from you breathing through your mouth. He wrapped both of his thick bulging arms around your neck, placing you in a loose headlock. A hand slipped down and tugged at your nipple. You released the kiss as you tried to get your breath back by sticking your tongue out. He placed a loud smack on your ass which made you come on his dick, stunning you.

He came inside you for the second time. You don't know how long he'll be doing this for as you feel his dick hardened inside you.

;(

[tokkiwrites]

summary: Santiago works most days, so that doesn't leave a lot of room for the two of you. but he always finds time to teach you a lesson when you're bad. tags: masturbaton, retraints, orgasm denial, voyeurism( in a way), cum eating, dry humping, spit, slapping, degradation, relationship problems (??) but they work it out in the end. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! here's the second story for you freaky bunnies, shorter with only 2.03k words, but i hope you enjoy it!

You sit by the window, the soft hum of the fan, the only noise in the otherwise silent apartment. Outside, the sun is hanging low in the sky, casting long, lazy shadows across the street. You sigh, leaning back against the worn-out cushions, eyes tracing the same lines of the ceiling that you've stared at countless times before.

Santi’s at work again. He’s always at work. It feels like you’ve been living in two different worlds for a while now—his, filled with busy days and deadlines, and yours, here, waiting, day after day.

You glance at your phone, half-hoping to see a message, maybe something spontaneous. But the screen stays blank. Another hour passes, and you can’t help but feel the weight of the day pressing in on you. Time moves differently when you're alone—slower, heavier. You’ve already cycled through all the usual distractions: TV, scrolling mindlessly, flipping through an old book you barely care about.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When you first moved in together, everything seemed full of possibility. Nights spent talking until you fell asleep, lazy mornings together. But now, it's as if Santi is slipping into the cracks between the hours, a ghost in the space you share. It's been about three weeks since you last had sex. It wasn't so important, nor such a long time, but you kind of missed feeling wanted. You give into your sad state, memories of nights where he showed you how much he wants you, the way he indulged into youㅡ how you always stuck to his every command, wanting nothing other than to please him.

and you are needy.

Slowly, your hand creeps into your lazily tied sweatpants and under your panties; just those few thoughts of Santiago on top of you have got you dripping with arousal. You mutter a soft curse under your breath as you start drawing slow circles onto your bud. Quiet moans slip your parted lips, back arching against the couchㅡ time stops for a bit; you feel as you did the time you first met him. fantasizing about what he'd do to you.

The sound of the front door opening snaps you from your thoughts and actions, but you don’t move right away. Instead, you stay like that, splayed out on the couch, waiting. anticipating.

"Hey," he says softly, finally stepping into the living room. His voice is calm and familiar, but there's a hint of exhaustion behind it. You don’t immediately respond, waiting for his reaction, and, oh, do you get one. "What are you doing?" he finally asks, taking in your state. "Dunno..." You play clueless, dragging the word out as if it’s too much hand still in that same place. "What's it look like?"

He narrows his eyes slightly, caught between amusement and bewilderment. "You waitin' for me, baby?" You just shrug, not really giving him much, enjoying the way he’s trying to figure you out. “Maybe I am.” His lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you can see that familiar spark in his eyes—the one that used to light up when the two of you would banter like this, teasing, pushing each other. he's hungry for you.

"You know you just gotta ask. I always give you what you want." you sigh. "Yeah...but not anymore." he chuckles, throwing off his jacket onto the nearby ottoman. "I think you're just being a brat. Maybe I've spoiled you too much." you try to sit up from the couch, but he's quick to push you back down, eyes roaming over your body. "I don't fuck you for two weeks, and this is what i get, baby? when all i do is work forㅡ god." he smiles, "you know you got me wrapped around your little finger."

"It's been three weeks." You say the words before you can stop them. "Oh?" he coos. "Is that what this is about?" Santiago lowers his head, his lips so close to yours you can feel his breath. you want to kiss him so bad it actually hurts, but before you can do or say anything, he breaks the silence with a stern tone. "Take of my belt."

"sorry?" your eyes widen a bit, but he cuts you off quickly. "Excused. Take it off, now." You hesitate, your breath catching in your throat, but his presence, so close, so commanding, makes it impossible to resist. With trembling hands, you reach for his belt buckle, the weight of the moment making every second feel like an eternity.

The belt finally comes undone with a quiet click, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Santiago’s expression is unreadable, his eyes dark and intense stare that pricks at your skin. Then, slowly, he reaches out, his fingers brushing against your hand as he takes the belt from you. The ache of wanting him so badly nearly overwhelms you, but he holds you there, suspended in the moment.

"Good," he says quietly, "On your knees." The need to obey him surges within you, stronger than anything you've felt before. It's an overwhelming pull, not just because of his commanding presence, but because something about the way he speaks, the fire in his eyes, makes it impossible to resist. Every word he utters demands your attention, your submission, as if disobedience isn’t even an option.

"gimme your hands, pretty girl."

It's not just about what he's asking—it's about the control he holds over you in that moment, the power he has. And the truth is, you don't just feel compelled to follow his commands. You want to. So you kneel in front of him. Without a word, he folds the leather in half, and before you can fully process what's happening, he grabs your wrists gently, pulling them together. The cool leather slides against your skin as he wraps the belt around your wrists, tightening it just enough to make your pulse quicken.

His movements are slow, deliberate, as though savoring the control he's taking. Your breath hitches, and all you can focus on is the feeling of restraint, the belt holding you in place. The heat between you rises, and your heart races. Santiago pulls the belt tighter with a firm tug as he speaks up again. "Now you sit and watch." and your eyes widen as he plops down on the couch in front of you, all whilst undoing his pants.

His large hand slides into his trousers, finally setting free his aching shaft. He stares you dead in the eyes as he wraps a tight grip around it, and with slow motions, he starts touching himself. Santiago’s low moans fill the room. you can feel yourself dripping more and more as the moments settle. You wanted to move closer to help him, but his gaze was keeping you in place. "And here I was thinking you were being a good girl while I'm gone, turns outㅡ" he moans "turns out you're a needy whore. is cock all you think about, hm?"

"santi, please.." You whine, bringing your tied wrists up, as if praying. "I'm sorry, please... untie me so I can help.." he can only laugh through strained moans as he pumps himself faster. "Doesn't work like that, baby." it was excruciating, watching him do it all whilst you were on your knees, trying to get off just by rubbing your thighs together. you bit down your moans; he'd never done something like this. yes, he did punish you, but not to this extent. he usually gave into your pleads in two seconds topsㅡ maybe this was his way of showing you that he's still full of surprises even after all this time.

You can feel yourself practically drooling as Santiago put on a show. You see him throw his head back, hips bucking in the air. he was close to finishing and no matter how shameful it felt, your mouth was watering.

"C'mere." Santiago’s voice makes you jump. You nod, trying your best to crawl towards him with your wrists retrained, knees weak. He'd never seen you so desperate. "Openㅡ Wider!" You obey every word, waiting. With a few more moves from his wrist, he lays white ropes all over your blushed face and onto your tongue, the sudden feeling making you scrunch up your face. with his index finger, he closes your jaw for you. "swallow." and you do. with that same finger, he gathers the rest of his seed from your face, urging it into your mouth. "Come on, openㅡ there you go." he praises as he smears the substance on your tongue. The man makes you stay like that, mouth agape, catching you off guard when you feel him spit inside of it. Santiagos rough palm makes contact with your cheek in a harsh slap before he grabs you by the face. "Close it." You do as you're told, tears rolling down your stinging skin. when he's satisfied, he leans back on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Clean it up." he points to his shaft with little effort. you've never been so content and grateful in your whole life. With the urgency, you wrapped your lips around him, earning a soft laugh from the man. as you settle between his things, you manage to sneak your tied hands between your legs for better access to your aching cunt. you were almost there, so close, but it all fades away when Santiago kicks your hands away withhis foot, and tugs at your hair. "Don't get fucking greedy now. You don't get to come now. You do when I let you." you whine some incoherent pleads, protesting, before he sinks your head down again.

"Maybe this is what you need. I need to keep you tied and on your knees, make you suck this cock every time i come from work. you'd like that?" you moan around his length, all messy and teary-eyed. "Yeah, baby, i know- look at you." he slaps your cheek again. "You're all happy when you have my dick in your mouth." you can feel his foot creep up between your thighs, and you gasp for air as you feel it rub against your clothed folds. you try to move your hips for more contact, all whilst your tongue lulled out and around Santiago’s shaft. "There she is.." he tuts, tangling his fingers into your hair, parting your mouth away from him, a long string of saliva latching on. you gasp and rub against him, vision hazy and brain too fuzzy to say anything more. warmth pools at your stomach, the pulsing need making you tightly close your eyes but another slap to the face makes you look up. "You look at me. Like that-" you frantically rub against his foot, nails digging into your own palms. "Dirty fucking girl."

" ㅡ'm gonna come" You manage to choke out. "Go ahead. make me proud, baby" it's all you needed; you let go, millions of fireworks going off in your stomach as you writhe at his feetㅡ a soft string of 'thank yous' as you cry, forehead pressed against his thigh. you sit for a moment, the only sound ringing faintly in your ear as you come down from your high.

He leans in, placing a hand on the crown of your head, his voice softening. "You know I’m still here, right?" The tension that had been building up inside you eases in an instant, the warmth of him beside you, reminding you of all the reasons why you’ve waited. You tilt your head, resting it lightly on his palm, your fingers brushing against his leg.

"I know," you murmur. "It just gets hard when you’re not around so much."

Santi’s arm slips around your waist, pulling you up in his arms. "I’ll try to do better," he whispers, lips brushing your temple. "Promise." You don’t need a big conversation, not right now. Just this—the quiet, the closeness, and the feeling that, for a moment, things are the way they used to be.

"santi, 'm still tied." you finally speak up, head on his chest. "I know, baby. I'm not done with you." he'll make up for those three weeks.

[reignpage]

Frequently Asked Questions

When sending an ask, what are the rules?

All requests regarding smaus and fics will be sent straight to the trash or you may be blocked No exceptions You are always free to ask questions Be aware that if you send a complaint or something negative, you will be blocked I do this for free so constructive criticism isn't of interest to me And since this is the internet, you know well to scroll when you see something you don't like so making a complaint instantly makes you look like an idiot

Can I ask for a part 2?

Depends on how you ask 'Pt 2 when? or 'tag me in pt 2' won't get you anywhere with me But if you express genuine interest then of course I'd be more likely to consider making a part 2 if I haven't already decided

Why are some of your smaus not linked?

They have been archived since they were written very early on, back when I hadn’t decided to change to light mode yet. It’s possible I would rewrite them but there is no guarantee. Please do not ask me to bring them back.

When do you post?

Whenever I have time, sometimes multiples times in one day, sometimes every other day, but I'm generally known to post daily

What app do you use to make your smaus?

I don't use an app. I use my own messages and I'll send myself texts.

Will you do other characters like Ino and Shiu?

I do add Ino, Hiro and Shiu sometimes but they're special guests. It's a little difficult for me to write for them because of timing and because l don't know them well enough so I don't want people to start expecting them. They're a treat.

Can I ask you for writing advice?

Yes, of course.

Why aren't you answering my requests?

That’s cause my requests are closed. If you make a request, you risk being blocked.

Why are your requests closed?

I don't have time to take requests at all I have enough ideas of my own to not need requests I want as many of my works to come from my own brain so please don’t send suggestions either (I consider them a more subtle form of a request)

Why do you get so upset about people sending requests?

Because my requests have been closed for months and it's been made so very clear. If someone makes a request it means they haven't done their due diligence even though they should have when making a request (i.e. reading the rules and boundaries established by the creator). Either that or they have completely ignored my signposting which then makes them disrespectful and idiotic. I get requests every day. Sometimes the phrasing of the request isn't even friendly or polite. Hopefully you can imagine how tiring this gets but also how one can feel disrespected. Thus, I reserve the right to reply, if I do, as I see fit. If you don't like it, there's no one keeping you here.

Do you read your inbox?

Of course, I read all comments and messages sent to my inbox I may not reply to every nice message, but that's usually because I like to keep most of them in my inbox for me to scroll through when I'm feeling low

Do you respond to hate messages?

Not usually I've developed a skill of sensing the vibes of a message and blocking the user without reading the message so don't bother sending me paragraphs about how much you hate me It won't be read and then you've just wasted your time

How do you make the coloured fonts?

To learn more about how I make coloured fonts and gradient pictures, have a look at my aesthetics tutorial (linked in my navigation)

Do you have a tag list?

No, I don't do tagging unfortunately It’s a lot of work which I can’t afford to do right now

Will you be making dark content often?

Probably not frequently, but it’s certainly a possibility. I won’t restrain myself because of a minority of people’s own discomfort.

Will you ever write for Yuta?

No.

Where do you get your 18+ mdni dividers from?

@fic-dumpster a real goldmine. full credit to them!

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"CAN I...?"

Another fic with him because I need him so bad isn't funny anymore, please just one chance Dave PLEASE I love him

I hope you like it!

You and Dave had been friends for quite some time.

You had gone to each other's houses on countless occasions, but in the last few weeks something had changed between you.

Your best friend ignored your messages and when you were together he would quickly look away from you, as if he was trying not to pay you more attention than necessary.

That's why, tired of that strange situation, and taking advantage of the fact that you were alone in his room in the middle of an afternoon of studying, you decided to leave the notebook on his bed, where you were doing your homework, to look at him.

He turned around when he heard the knock, his blue eyes went from the notebook to you for a moment.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, putting a hand on his chest. "You scared me."

"We both know that's not true," you said, crossing your arms. "Spit it out."

"What?" –he questioned, staring at you intently-

-You've been ignoring me for weeks, Dave –you reminded him, as if he didn't already know- if I've done something that has offended you, I'm sorry, okay? But I can't go on like this –you confessed- I miss my best friend

He left the pen he was holding on the table, while he turned his desk chair around to focus fully on you.

-Sorry, it's just been a few rough weeks and I… –he swallowed hard- yes, that's the reason I've behaved like this

-You're a very bad liar –you murmured, holding his gaze- I know you too well to know when you're being sincere and when you're not, and now you're not –you paused for a second before asking in your most reassuring tone- What's wrong?

He lowered his head for a moment, before focusing on the slippers he was wearing.

-I… -he swallowed nervously- before I tell you, promise me it won't affect our friendship

You raised an eyebrow

-Are you gay? –you questioned, he frowned and shook his head vigorously-

-What? No!

-It wouldn't be a problem if you were –you added- there are a lot of boys in our school who…

-I like you –he interrupted you, making you open your eyes wide-

You blinked a couple of times quickly, as if your ears had gone bad, and you hadn't understood him well.

-What? –you asked, dazed, staring at the way his blue eyes shone-

-I like you –he repeated, looking away somewhere other than you- I'm sorry, I… I wanted to tell you before, but I didn't want to… -he took a deep, shaky breath- I was afraid this would end our friendship

-Nothing is over, Lizewski –you affirmed- you will always be my friend, no matter what

-No matter what happens –he repeated in a low voice-

Now it was your turn to ask

-Since when? –you wanted to know, he tilted his head, sketching a shy little smile that made you want to get up to kiss him-

-I don't know for sure –he confessed- but I think it was since we were paired together in the science project –he explained- Do you remember? you invited me over to your house to do it, and then when it got late you insisted I stay for dinner and the night –he looked up at you again- you were wearing green jeans, a white t-shirt and a black bow to hold your hair back –he listed blushing with embarrassment as he remembered all the details- you were… -he swallowed nervously again before finishing- you were very pretty

-Oh, Dave, I… -you started, but he stopped you with a nod-

-It’s okay if you don’t feel the same –he said- I… I feel better now that you know –he confessed- it was too heavy a burden to carry alone

-I was going to say that I feel the same for you –you confessed, this time you were the one who blushed and he stared at you with his beautiful blue eyes- I’ve never felt this way about anyone –you confessed- and I think… -you pressed your lips tightly before saying- I think I’m in love with you

-Really? –he asked hopefully, as he stood up and sat down next to you on his bed slowly-

-Yes –you whispered, his closeness making all the barriers you had built around yourself to protect yourself from his charm fade away little by little- Are you…?

-Yes –he interrupted nervously- yes, I think so –he said making both of you smile- Can I… -he looked down at your mouth before fixing it on your eyes again- can I kiss you?

-It's not that you can –you whispered unable to take your gaze off his pink lips- it's that you have to

His lips connected with yours delicately, as if he was making sure that this was real, that you were in front of him and that this was really happening.

You returned the kiss following the movement of his lips, at the same time that you placed your hands behind his neck, catching several curls of his brown hair between your fingers.

He sighed into your mouth as you lightly pulled him closer. You felt like you were going to melt just from hearing him.

He pulled away from you to catch his breath, the lenses of his glasses fogged up and his lips swollen from the kisses you had given each other. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of each other.

-It seems that I'm not the only one who had dreamed of this moment -he mocked, sketching a half-smile-

You shook your head as if it were hopeless, before hooking your arms behind his neck again, bringing him closer to you.

-It's possible -you ventured- now kiss me, Dave

And that was exactly what he did

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Where did you sleep last night?

The apartment feels colder than usual tonight. The silence between us has been stretching longer with each passing day, each unanswered message, each quiet evening. The kitchen light hums softly above me as I stand, alone, waiting for him to come home. His absence weighs heavily on my chest. I've tried to be patient, but tonight, I can't ignore it anymore. The doubts have been gnawing at me for weeks—where has he been? What's really going on? And where did he sleep last night?

The clock ticks steadily, each second stretching longer than the last. My eyes flicker between the time on my phone and the half-eaten dinner on the table, untouched. He promised he'd be home by eight. It's now well past midnight.

I try to calm my racing thoughts, but it's impossible. It feels like the more I wait, the worse it gets. Lately, James has been distant—too distant. At first, I told myself it was just work, that he was overwhelmed, that he just needed time. But the more he withdrew, the more I began to doubt myself.

Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe he's just busy.

But deep down, I know something's off. The way he avoids my questions, the late nights that stretch into hours, the messages he leaves unanswered, the strange looks he gives me when I ask about his day... None of it adds up. I can feel it in my gut. I just need him to be honest with me.

Finally, the door creaks open. My heart lurches. I don't know if it's out of relief, anger, or something else entirely.

James steps inside, his face tired, eyes shadowed from exhaustion. He doesn't meet my gaze, only kicks off his shoes and hangs his jacket by the door. I stay where I am, arms crossed tightly in front of me.

"Hey," he says, his voice low and strained, but it's the same monotone he's used for the past few weeks.

"Hey," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. I try to keep my tone neutral, but there's a sharpness to it, a quiet tension hanging between us. He heads toward the kitchen to grab a drink, but I can't let him off the hook this time.

I watch him, the words I've been holding back suddenly rushing to the surface. I don't want to do this, but I have no choice. I need to know what's been happening.

"Where did you sleep last night?" The question slips out before I can stop myself. My voice sounds quieter than I intended, almost like a crack in the quiet we've been living in.

James freezes, his hand hovering over the fridge handle. The air between us thickens. I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenches. He doesn't turn to face me, but I know he's heard me.

"What do you mean?" he asks after a long pause, his voice betraying a hint of defensiveness.

The words catch in my throat, but I push through the fear that tightens around me. "I mean... where were you last night, James? I haven't seen you in hours. And don't say work. You've been saying that for weeks, but I don't believe it anymore. I just want to know the truth."

James finally turns to face me, but it's not the look I expect. There's something in his eyes—guilt? Frustration? He's not angry, but there's an unease that runs deep in him. His face softens, but the distance between us feels like an ocean.

"I'm just tired, Y/n. I've been working a lot. I told you, it's not what you think," he says, his voice flat.

But I can't shake the feeling that he's lying. My chest tightens, and I feel a knot in my stomach. He's been telling me the same thing for weeks—work, work, work. But I know him. I know when something is off.

"No," I say, my voice trembling, but I stand my ground. "It's not just work. It's something else. Something you're not telling me. What's really going on, James?" I take a step toward him, and he takes a step back. I don't care. I need to know. "Where did you sleep last night? Tell me."

The silence is thick now, suffocating. His eyes flicker, and for a moment, I think he might walk away, but instead, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. There's something in his face—something that makes my heart sink.

"I... I didn't sleep well. I was out of town, alright? I didn't think you'd notice," he says, his words stumbling out in a way that only deepens the pit in my stomach.

I shake my head, disbelief flooding through me. "Out of town? Since when? You didn't tell me. You didn't mention any of this to me, James."

His gaze hardens. He opens his mouth to speak, but I don't wait. I've had enough of the vague answers, the lies, the silence. "Don't lie to me," I snap, my voice sharp with a rawness I didn't know I had in me. My eyes burn with the weight of all the unspoken truths. "I know something's going on. You've been acting so distant, and I'm not going to let you keep lying to me like this."

James stares at me, stunned, but it's not the shock of someone caught in a lie. It's the shock of someone who knows they've been exposed, and yet still doesn't know how to fix it.

"I'm not lying, Y/n," he says, but his voice falters. There's a hesitation there. "I've just... I've been pulling away. I didn't know how to deal with everything. I didn't know how to talk to you about it."

Don't lie to me.

Those words echo in my mind. The truth is all I've been asking for. But instead, I've been given pieces—fragments of explanations that don't add up. And I can't keep pretending it's okay.

"No." I shake my head, stepping back. "You don't get to keep doing this. Don't say you didn't know how to talk to me. You've been avoiding me. You've been shutting me out." I take another step toward him, my voice rising in anger and hurt. "You lied to me, James. And I can't keep doing this anymore."

James's face softens with regret, but it's too little, too late. He steps forward, but I raise my hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"No," I say quietly, my heart heavy. "I can't do this. I need you to tell me the truth, James. I need you to be honest with me, or I don't know what's left of us."

There's a long silence. He looks at me, guilt and sorrow etched into every inch of his face, but I'm past being the one who waits for him to figure it out.

"I can't keep doing this alone," I whisper, a tear escaping despite my efforts to stay strong. "You've already pulled away from me. I don't know if there's anything left to save."

James stands there, his face pale, eyes filled with regret and guilt. But I can't look at him anymore. I can't be the one holding everything together when I'm falling apart.

"I need time," I whisper, turning toward the door. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

As I walk out of the room, I hear him call my name. But I won't stop. I can't stop. The questions still echo in my mind: Where did he sleep last night? And where do we go from here?

The door clicks shut behind me, and the silence in the apartment is unbearable.

[2millu2]

Mama, I’m in Love with a Criminal ఌ Gojo Satoru

☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙

✵ ft. Criminal Gojo x f.reader

✰༄ wc: 4k

༻ warning: smut, p in v, porn with plot, Criminal(Gojo), public sex (alleyway) cúnnilingus, marking, rough, bf Gojo , hair pulling, swearing, spanking, etc

✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★✰★

The sun had just set over the bustling city, casting its golden hues onto the tall buildings and busy streets below. You were standing in front of one of these towering structures, a police precinct filled with officers working tirelessly to maintain law and order in the metropolis. As a cop, you've worked countless cases, chasing leads, interrogating suspects, and arresting criminals. One particular criminal stands out from the rest, though – Gojo Satoru.

He was an infamous criminal, known for his cunning mind and extraordinary abilities, leaving behind a trail of chaos wherever he went. Rumors swirled around town about his involvement in underground activities that could topple entire empires, and the city's finest had been after him for months, but to no avail. His face was plastered on every wanted poster in the city.

But what none of your colleagues, nor the criminal underworld knew, was that you and Satoru shared a secret connection. A forbidden romance blossoming under the veil of darkness. Your relationship was a ticking time bomb, threatening to explode at any moment, with the possibility of jeopardizing your career and his freedom.

As you stand in the precinct, surrounded by fellow officers, your heart races with anticipation. You receive a text message from Satoru, and your breath catches in your throat as you read it.

"Hey, baby,

It's getting dangerous out here. They're starting to close in, and I'm not sure how much longer we can keep this up. I need to see you. Meet me at our spot tonight. Hurry."

His words send shivers down your spine, and you can't help but feel a sense of urgency. You quickly reply, your fingers trembling as you type.

"Okay, I'll be there. Stay safe."

A brief pause as you wait for his response, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, another message pops up on your screen.

"I will. I love you."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you can't help but smile. Despite the danger surrounding them, the love between you and Satoru burns brighter than ever.

With a final glance at the precinct, you slip out into the night, making your way to the rendezvous point that you and Satoru have frequented in the past. The dimly lit alleyway, hidden away from prying eyes, has become your sanctuary, a place where you can be yourself without fear of judgment or discovery.

As you approach the entrance, you notice a figure leaning against the wall, his silhouette bathed in the pale moonlight. Your heart leaps as you realize it's Satoru.

"Hey," he says, his voice low and sultry, "I've been waiting for you."

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. His body is warm and familiar, and you can't help but melt into his embrace. For a moment, you forget about the danger that surrounds you, lost in the depths of his gaze.

As Satoru pulls you closer, you feel the heat radiating off his body, and your heart races with anticipation. His hands trace delicate patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the hardness of his muscles beneath his clothes, a testament to his strength and power. His scent, a mix of cologne and a hint of danger, fills your nostrils, and you inhale deeply, savoring the aroma.

"You've been gone for so long," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heart. "I was worried."

Satoru leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a wave of electricity through your body. "I had to lay low, baby," he murmurs, his voice husky with seduction. "But I'm back now, and I need you more than ever."

His words send a jolt of desire through you, and you feel your panties growing wetter by the second. As much as you want to resist him, you know that you can't. You're powerless against the magnetic pull that Satoru exerts over you, and you surrender to his advances willingly.

He pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes, searching for something. "Are you ready?" he asks, his gaze intense.

You nod, unable to form words, your heart pounding in your chest. He smirks, a devilish grin spreading across his face, and before you know it, he's picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist naturally. You feel the hard bulge in his pants pressing against your core, and you bite your lips holding in the moan that threatens to come out.

As he carries you towards the end of the alley, you can't help but run your fingers through his snow-white hair, feeling its softness beneath your touch. He groans softly, his hips slowly bucking into yours, and you can tell that he's just as eager for this as you are.

Reaching the far end of the alley, he sets you down gently, he smirks before he trail his hands on your waist before coming up to your dark blue button up work shirt. He rips on the shirt and you gasp “Satoru that my work shirt”

“I’ll get you a new one”

He looks at your body revealing your gorgeous body and the lace blue bra. His eyes widen in appreciation, and you feel a surge of pride at his obvious admiration.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, running his fingertips lightly over your skin. "So perfect."

His words send shivers down your spine, and you arch your back, offering yourself up to him willingly. He takes the opportunity to kiss your stomach, his lips lingering on your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. You moan softly, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

He smirks, kissing his way up your stomach, his lips tracing a path towards your breasts. As he reaches the edge of your bra, he pauses, his eyes locking with yours.

"Do you want me to keep going, baby?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He smiles, a devilish grin spreading across his face, and he continues his journey upwards, his lips finally capturing one of your nipples through the fabric of your bra. You gasp, your body jolting with pleasure, and he groans softly, his erection pressing against your thigh.

He switches to the other nipple, giving it equal attention, and you can't help but squirm beneath him, desperate for more. His hands move to the clasp of your bra, and he unfastens it, exposing your erect nipples to his view. He groans, his eyes widening, and he leans in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it gently.

You cry out, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. He moans softly, his cock twitching against your thigh desperately grinding his cock on your thigh, and you can feel your own wetness seeping through your panties at his desperation.

He releases your nipple with a pop, his eyes locked on your gaze. "You want more, baby?" he asks, his voice hoarse with lust.

You shake your head yes, your heart pounding in your chest, your body screaming for more. He smirks, a wicked glint in his eyes, and he moves down, his lips trailing kisses along your stomach once more.

This time, he doesn't stop at your hips, but instead continues his descent, kissing and licking every inch of your skin. Your panties are soaked by the time he reaches the juncture between your thighs, and you can feel the dampness seeping through the fabric.

"Are you ready for me, baby?" he asks, his breath hot against your skin.

You nod, your eyes wide, your body trembling with anticipation. He smiles, his eyes gleaming with lust, and he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your uniform pants and panties, pulling them down slowly.

As they slide down your legs, you feel a sense of freedom, of vulnerability, and a rush of excitement. He pulled your pants panties down to your ankles, his eyes never leaving your wet pussy, and you feel a wave of embarrassment and desire wash over you.

But he doesn't give you time to dwell on your feelings. Instead, he leans in, his nose nuzzling against your inner thigh, his breath warm and moist against your skin. You gasp, your body jolting, and he chuckles softly, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your inner thigh.

Finally, he reaches his destination, his tongue darting out to lick a line across your sensitive flesh. You cry out, your body arching, your hands clenching into fists. He continues his onslaught, his tongue dancing over your puffy folds, teasing and probing your hole, driving you wild with desire.

"You taste so good," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, "so sweet, all mine."

His words send a bolt of lust through you, and you feel your juices flowing freely, coating his face, he hungrily laps up all you juices.

As Satoru continues to tease and tantalize your hole with his tongue, you can't help but feel a sense of euphoria washing over you. His skillful tongue and fingers work together in perfect harmony, driving you closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

"You're going to make me cum," you whisper, your voice hoarse with desire.

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, "That's the plan, baby."

He redoubles his efforts, his tongue diving deeper into your core, exploring every fold and crevice. Your body trembles, your cunt clenching around his tongue, and you know that it won't be long now.

As if sensing your impending climax, Satoru slows down, his tongue lingering on your most sensitive spots. He moves hand finger up to your clit rubbing it fast in circle motions. You whimper, your body writhing beneath him, desperate for release.

"Please," you plead, your voice barely audible above your own cries, "I need to come."

He smiles, a devilish grin spreading across his face, "Not yet, baby. We're not done yet."

He resumes his ministrations, his tongue dancing over your swollen lips, his fingers continuing teasing your clit. You cry out, your body shaking, and you feel the tsunami of pleasure building within you.

Suddenly, he stops, his tongue retreating, and you gasp, your body trembling with anticipation.

"But I'm not done with you yet," he growls, his eyes locked on yours.

Before you can protest, he positions himself between your legs, he pulls down his jeans and boxers and his hard cock springs out glistening with pre cum he strokes his cock walking towards and pressing against your entrance. You gasp, your body tensing, and he chuckles, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Are you ready for me, baby?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest, your body screaming for him to take you. He smirks, his eyes gleaming with triumph, and he lifts your up and you wrap your legs around his waist, he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt.

You cry out, your body arching, your nails digging into his shoulders. He groans, his eyes rolling back, and you can feel his cock throbbing within you, filling you with his essence.

As he begins to move, his hips bucking up into yours, you feel a sense of overwhelming pleasure wash over you. His cock slides in and out of your pussy, stretching and filling you, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

"You feel so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect," he growls, his voice hoarse with lust.

You can only nod, your body trembling, your mind lost in the sensation of his cock filling you completely.

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more forceful, and you can feel the pressure building within you. Your body tenses, your muscles coiling, and you know that it won't be long now.

"Satoru," you whisper, your voice barely audible above your own cries, "I'm going to cum."

He smiles, a devilish grin spreading across his face, "cum for me, baby."

As if on cue, your body erupts, waves of pleasure crashing over you, tearing through you with reckless abandon. You cry out, your body convulsing, your cum flowing coating his cock

you collapse onto wall, panting heavily, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, Satoru looms over you, his eyes locked on yours.

"That was just the beginning, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry.

You can only nod, your mind whirling, your heart racing. As he withdraws from your still-quivering pussy, you feel a sense of loss, of emptiness. But you know that it won't be long before he fills you again.

He helps you to your feet, his arms wrapped around you, and you can feel the warmth of his body, the solidity of his muscles beneath his clothes. You lean into him, your body still tingling from your recent climax, and he groans softly, his cock hardening once more.

"I need you again," he whispers, his voice thick with lust, "I can't get enough of you."

He turns you over your back facing him and you place your hands on the brick wall and you arch your back ready for him, he smirks and lifts up one of your legs before sliding his hard cock back into you

you feel Satoru's hands gripping your hips, guiding his cock towards you. The anticipation builds, your mind racing with thoughts of how it felt moments ago, how he filled you completely, how you came so hard that you saw stars.

And now, he's preparing to do it again.

You feel him entering you, slow and steady, each inch filling you, stretching you, until he's buried to the hilt. A moan escapes your lips, your body trembling, and he grinds his pelvis against you, his cock throbbing within you.

"Savor it, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, "because this time, I'm going to make you scream."

He begins to move, his hips bucking, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy with ease. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, your body trembling, your mind whirling.

"You feel so good," he groans, his eyes locked on yours, " your mines, baby."

You can only nod, your body lost in the sensation of his cock filling you completely, his thrusts driving you closer and closer to the edge.

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more relentless, and you feel the pressure building within you, the tsunami of pleasure looming.

"Satoru," you cry out, your voice hoarse with desire, "I'm going to cum."

He groans, he buries his head in your neck softly biting it, "give it to me, baby."

And with that, he redoubles his efforts, his cock slamming into you with fervor, his fingers digging into your hips. Your body tenses, your muscles coiling, and you know that it won't be long now.

He slaps your ass, watching it as it jiggle

Satoru, your feel so good, don’t stop I’m close” you moan fucking yourself back onto his cock

He toss his head back in pleasure gripping your hips tighter feeling his release also getting close, he grabs your hair pulling your back against his chest, he kisses you messily getting all your saliva everywhere.

your body erupts, waves of pleasure crashing over you, tearing through you with reckless abandon. You moan into the kiss your hands griping his wrist, your body convulsing, your juices flowing freely, coating his cock.

F-fuck I’m close, keep giving me that sweet pussy, baby” He groans, he grips your hair and thrust into your needy pussy faster his eyes rolling back, his cock pulsating within you, he grips your hips and let out soft whimpers in your ear as he fills your with his hot cum. Your orgasm seems to go on forever, each wave of pleasure leaving you breathless, spent.

As you collapse onto wall once more, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, Satoru collapses beside you, his chest heaving, his cock still hard.

"That was amazing," he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

Come on let me take you home, just tell your officers that you felt sick today” he says putting on his clothes and helping you with yours

You can only nod, your mind whirling, your heart racing. As he picks you bridal style, his arms protectively wrapping around you, you feel a sense of contentment, of fulfillment. And while you know that the danger surrounding him is far from over, in this moment, you feel invincible.

Because when you're with Satoru, nothing else matters. It's just the two of you, lost in each other, willing to risk everything for the sake of love

❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙❧☙

Credits to the artist of the photo

[doyouknowbtsswag]

Should Have Picked Up The Phone |So-Mun|

Sorry this is short

I strolled around the neighborhood shivering at the low temperature. I was originally supposed to be on a date with my boyfriend but he never showed up. Recently he's been canceling dates or leaving me hanging like a fool. All of the pity looks thrown my way by others makes it 10x worse. My mind always makes me wonder if he wants to break up and it makes my heart shatter. I can't help but think of what I did wrong if he doesn't like me anymore. He always says it's because his grandma wandered off again which is valid. I've seen her try to leave and even helped him before but that excuse is getting old. At this point, I wouldn't mind just hanging out at his place if that's the only time I could see him. I haven't seen him in days and even then it's a brief conversation. I walked down the street to my house and saw a man with a hoodie stopped at my door. I quickly hid behind the big dumpster ignoring the awful smell.

"Hello?" I heard the man say as he knocked on my door. "You dropped your ID card so I figured you would want it back."

I scrambled through my bag and looked in my wallet to see if I had actually dropped it but seeing my ID in my bag confused me. Why would he lie about that? I decided it wasn't safe for me to be around here so I quietly and quickly ran away praying I wouldn't trip over my heels. I ran for a good 10 minutes not caring about how much pain my legs and feet were in. I hunched over both of my hands on my knees and tried to catch my breath. I looked around and saw I ended up near the park.

"Mun's house isn't far from here maybe he'll be there," I said to myself my breath still shaky.

I grabbed my phone from my purse and made my way to his house. Even if he wasn't home I would be able to lend a hand to his grandparents. I pushed his contact and let the phone ring but he didn't pick up. I called him a few more times scared and upset about everything.

"Come on pick up pick up" I continued to walk but felt like someone was watching me the whole time. This made me call him more and more. I started to speed walk getting closer and closer to his house calling and calling. I hit the call button one last time before having someone grab me from behind. I dropped my phone struggling against the person who grabbed me. The call went directly to voicemail.

"Mun, shouldn't you answer your phone?" Hana said as she walked over to him. "I think you've trained enough today."

"Who was calling?" He asked stepping away from the punching bag and wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Y/n" Hana handed him his phone.

Mun groaned as he took the phone from her hand. "I forgot we had a date tonight"

"Again?" She said.

"She'll understand"

"How would she just understand?"

"I'll just say what I usually do, something came up with my grandparents"

"Shouldn't you just find time? Or take a break for a day" Hana crossed her arms.

"Evil spirits don't take breaks" He argued. "And with everything going on right now I can't afford to fall back"

"You're not the only counter, you can take a day off," Hana said. "Your not alone"

"I'm just nervous Cheong Shin will do something while I'm taking a break," Mun said as his phone vibrated with a text message.

Alternate:

"Call her back quickly," Hana said. "The nights not fully over"

"I-fine I call her back," He said as he called you back but came back with no answer. He sighed as he texted you saying how sorry he was hoping to get a response. He raised an eyebrow confused but slowly turned into worry as he called you again.

"She isn't picking up," Mun said looking at Hana.

"Try calling her again," Hana said now concerned herself.

"Pick up pick up," Mun said as he paced back and forth. "She's not acting petty right?"

"I highly doubt it"

"It picked up!"

" Y/n? What's wrong? Y/n?" He said concerned. "Are you okay?" The panic and concern in his voice was clear.

"So you do know him" The man said but it sounded like there were two people.

"Who's this?" Mun asked unsure if his ears were deceiving him or not. He was only met with a deep chuckle from the other end of the phone.

"Your worst nightmare" The man grinned. "She might have been safe if you picked up the phone"