#reading everyone's messages...he was so loved

[enhani-ki]

fuckboy!ni-ki x reader part ll ᡣ𐭩｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

warnings: smut, nsfw, bullying, cursing, etc.

read part one here

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki likes to give you gifts or something matching with him.

he loves spoiling you. small gifts, some things to match with him, or just something that made people notice you were his.

"are you really giving me this?" you asked, twisting the shining ring on your finger while lying on ni-ki's chest.

he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. "you don't like it?" he asked, a bit worried.

"i love it." you admitted, admiring how it caught the light. "i just look like i'm married." you laughed, holding up your hand next to his.

ni-ki grabbed your hand, flipping it over in his palm. "you're so small." he said, resisting the urge to squeeze just to see how fragile you felt. "love you." he kissed the back of your hand, his lips stayed there for a second longer than usual.

you smiled, heart fluttering... until he suddenly pressed your hand against his bulge.

"ahhh!" you yelped, pulling your hand back as he burst into laughter.

you shot him a glare but still couldn't help the small smile forming at your lips.

your boyfriend is so naughty.

ni-ki smirked. "so what if it makes you look like you're married?"

you sat up, crossing your arms. "i'm literally (your age)."

he raised his eyebrows as if to say, so? and?

rolling your eyes, you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss.

sweet, generous, handsome… how did you get so lucky?

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki's girlfriend is being bullied.

the closer you got to ni-ki, the more others began to notice and... not all of the attention was positive.

it started small, just a comment here or a whisper there. few student would tease you, asking if you did some witchcraft, wondering aloud what someone like him saw in you.

it was easy to brush off and laugh it away with ni-ki by your side. girls rolled their eyes whenever you passed by, loudly commenting on how "desperate" you looked or how "out of his league" you were.

in class, notes with cruel messages were left on your desk, scribbled in handwriting you don't recognize. during lunch, someone will "accidentally" spill their drink to you and liquid will come splashing onto your bag.

you tried to hide how much it got to you but ni-ki wasn't stupid. he noticed the way you slightly flinch when someone laughed a little too loudly behind you or the forced smile you gave when you claimed you were fine.

one afternoon, as the two of you walked home, he finally brought it up. "baby, they're just jealous, you know?" he said casually wrapping his arms on your shoulders, hugging you from behind.

you removed his arm, trying to play dumb. "w- who?"

he stopped and turned to face you. "you know who. those idiots at school." his tone was calm but there was a slight of irritation in his voice.

you sighed, looking down at your feet. "it's not a big deal, ni-ki. i can handle it."

he frowned, taking a step closer. "you shouldn't have to. tell me who it is."

everyone.

you looked up at him, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. "i said it’s fine..."

"it's not, though." he replied. "just… don’t hide it from me, okay? if it gets worse, you have tell me right away."

you nodded reluctantly.

"i have to admit something though..."

you looked at him. "what's that?"

ni-ki sighed. "the girl behind us..." he paused. "be- before we got close, she liked me. but i didn't like her back, but i guess i… led her on a little."

you narrowed your eyes and ni-ki panicked. "we didn't do anything! i promise." he smiled and chuckled nervously. "i didn't realize how serious she was until it was too late, i guess."

you sighed and wrapping your arms on his waist. "thanks for letting me know and it's okay, i love you."

ni-ki cupped your face before kissing you. "i love you, too."

the bullying didn't stop and to your dismay, it started affecting ni-ki too. it wasn't obvious before, just small petty things but soon you started noticing it too. people would switch his test papers, putting nonsense answers and making it seem like he hadn't done his work.

you even saw it happen during a class one day. someone snickered as they slid his paper to the bottom of the pile, replacing it with a blank sheet. your heart sank when the teacher handed it back, a bold zero marked at the top.

ni-ki didn't seem fazed, though. he calmly explained the situation, the teachers believed him of course and gave him another chance to take the tests.

he also had some people investigated, he got some help collecting evidence to prove what they're doing and make them take accountability for their actions.

honestly, he wouldn't care at all. but he has you now and he won't let you get hurt even more just because of him.

such a cool guy.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki loves your mouth.

it was obvious in the way his eyes stared at it whenever you spoke, how he'd watch your lips move like he was barely listening to a word you were saying.

"you talk too much," he said, thumb tracing your lower lip as he leaned in.

you rolled your eyes. "then stop making me talk."

he chuckled, thumb slipping into your mouth just enough to press against your tongue. "what if i just keep your mouth busy instead?"

he loved teasing you. pulling your lip between his teeth, running his thumb across it, and watch you get flustered.

he'd stare whenever you absentmindedly bit your lip, waiting for the moment you noticed him watching.

the way he reacted when you licked something off your fingers?

"you're doing that on purpose, aren't you" his voice was always rougher then, his eyes locked on your lips like he was seconds away from losing control.

you smirked. "doing what?"

it doesn't matter if you were just eating ice cream, drinking from a straw, or just licking your lips because they were dry... he'd make it a thing.

he devoured your lips, pressing hard, stealing every little sound you made. his hands always found your jaw, keeping you still, deepening the kiss like he needed to 'cause he's been starving for you.

then he would pull back to admire the way your lips were swollen, glossy from his kisses, "so pretty," he whispered, "i think i'll keep going."

ni-ki never wants to let it stay innocent.

he groaned, voice rough. "fuck, baby… i just wanna put it in your mouth."

you couldn't help the blush creeping onto your cheeks, feeling him already hard beneath his pants.

"tsk, you're so impatient." you teased, slowly unzipping his jeans. "don't you want to watch the rest of the movie first?"

"no... fuck that movie." he panted, his fingers tucking the strands of your hair behind your ears.

he needs that pretty mouth on his cock like, right now.

chuckling, you pulled out his generous length, ni-ki watched you spit out your saliva, where it dripped down on his cock, you gave it a long, slow lick from base to tip.

he hissed, head falling back against the couch.

you didn't even know how to give blowjobs before, you just took your time experimenting until he says "just like that" and now suddenly you just might be an expert already.

you kept sucking at the head, tracing the thick vein underneath. you enveloped him in your mouth, heart pounding at his rich, masculine taste.

ni-ki let out a strangled noise, his fingers tangling in your hair.

you relaxed your throat and sank lower until his cock hit the back. his hips jerked up, forcing you to take him even deeper.

and even though you're gagging and there's tears forming at your eyes, you didn't stop, you kept bobbing your head in his lap.

and to ni-ki you're gorgeous like this... your lips stretched around his big dick. bet the neighbors could hear you gagging as he really fucked on your face.

you moaned, sending sweet vibrations through his shaft, swirling your tongue as you picked up the pace.

ni-ki panted harshly, his abs were clenching.

"shit, i'm already close..." he said, eyes rolling at the back of his head.

you gently played with his balls and with a few more quick sucking and thrusts, he reached his climax, spurting jets of hot seed down your throat.

you swallowed it all, not letting a single drop escape so ni-ki wouldn't complain.

and as he came down from his high, ni-ki pulled you close for a kiss, his tongue roamed into your mouth then he groaned in approval. "i'm a lucky bastard. right?"

you smirked against his lips, then he laughed breathlessly. his cock already starting to stir again.

"can you sit on my face?"

✶ boyfriend!ni-ki is no doubt protective.

ni-ki leaves to order food at a small café, leaving you seated at a table by yourself. and while he's away, someone approaches and starts hitting on you.

he returned to the table holding a tray, his eyes immediately caught the unfamiliar figure leaning close to you. his relaxed expression hardens as he watches you visibly uncomfortable, trying to politely brush off their advances.

he calmly approached them, his height and presence alone was enough to make the stranger falter, stepping between you and the person, his hand held the back of your chair. "you need something from my girlfriend?"

the stranger stammers, "oh, i didn't know-"

"now you do?" ni-ki cuts in, eyes narrowing slightly. he wasn't loud but it is enough to make it clear that they should back off.

"you okay? did they say anything weird?"

and when you assured him you're fine, he clicked his tongue, annoyed. "can't even leave you for five minutes without someone trying something."

you looked at him in disbelief. "now you know how it feels when i'm with you!"

he just smiled smugly and sipped on his drink.

✶ boyfriend!ni-ki is cute when upset.

you didn't text him back all day and he was NOT happy about it.

now, standing in front of him, you could feel his disappointment. his arms were crossed and his lips were slightly pouting like a duck...

"oh, come on… you're not actually mad, are you?" you sighed, reaching out to touch his arm but he moved away, making a show of it.

"dunno," he muttered, "guess i just thought my girlfriend would care enough to answer me."

you blinked. "ni-ki, i was busy..."

"yeah, i know, busy ignoring me." he shot back, still refusing to look at you.

you groaned, stepping closer, "babyyyy, don't be like this."

nothing. not even a glance. he was really milking this.

so, naturally, you had to step up your game.

you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest. "ni-kiii, i said sorryyy!"

silence.

you looked up at him, blinking sweetly. "please, forgive me?"

ni-ki exhaled, his lips twitching like he was trying not to smile. but stop, he wasn't going to let you off that easily.

"you're not convincing me enough." he sighed, still acting all moody.

you smiled, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek, then his jaw, then his lips...

"better?" you whispered, smiling against his skin.

his hands finally found your waist, pulling you in closer. "hmm… getting there."

you rolled your eyes but kissed him properly this time, slow and sweet, his grip tightening as he finally gave in.

and when you pulled away, he smirked down at you. "you know you could've just texted me back saying you're busy, right?"

"yeah, but then i wouldn't get to do all this." you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.

ni-ki grinned. "damn… i should get mad at you more often, huh?"

read PART ONE HERE <33

[dearru]

i miss you, come here ! | t.oikawa

-> pairing: ts!oikawa tooru x gn!reader | sfw | cw: headcanons, suggestive content under the cut, reader is in university, long distance, manga spoilers ig, bittersweet ending | mlist 

-> rq: boyfriend headcanons with oikawa tooru

boyfriend!oikawa who started dating you in high school. you were heartbroken when he told you he was going abroad post-graduation, but he assured you that long distance would work.

boyfriend!oikawa who has never failed to text you “good morning” and “goodnight” despite the time difference between you guys. the messages are also always accompanied by a selfie of him. he says it’s to prevent you from “ forgetting about his pretty face,”  but that’s nearly impossible to do considering images of him are plastered on every magazine you read and news channel you turn on. it’s nice to have pictures of him that are solely for you, though. 

boyfriend!oikawa who brags to everyone he meets in argentina about how lucky he is to have you as his partner. his teammates feel like they’re the ones dating you from how often he rambles about how much he loves you. he could drone on for hours about how smart you are for going to university, or how cute you are when you scrunch your nose at him. he’s obsessed with you and makes it everybody else’s problem. 

boyfriend!oikawa who gets offended when his PR team suggests marketing him as an available bachelor to increase his popularity. he reassures you that he’d never sacrifice the integrity of your guys’ relationship to get a little ahead in his career. he express-ships a big bouquet of flowers to your door as a way to apologize even though he did nothing wrong. (he calls it “proactive damage control”) 

boyfriend!oikawa who unfollows everybody except for you on his social media accounts to prove his devotion. this causes quite a stir and results in your classmates staring at you when you walk into your lectures. you’re known around campus as “oikawa tooru’s significant other,” but you and him agree that there are worse things to be known as. 

boyfriend!oikawa who notices how stressed you get from being a university student, so he surprises you with a round-trip business class ticket to argentina. he squeezes you so tight when he sees you for the first time that you think you may suffocate. as he holds you, you can feel the wetness of his tears against the back of your shirt, but you decide not to tease him about it. you missed him too.

boyfriend!oikawa who’s excited to show you the life he’s built for himself. he shows you his favorite beaches, introduces you to his teammates (who you apologize to in broken spanish about how annoying your boyfriend is), and takes you to the best restaurants in town. when you two go out for food, he orders for you in perfect spanish, and the dishes he recommends for you to try are always better than what you would’ve ordered for yourself. it reminds you how well he knows you.

boyfriend!oikawa who’s shocked when you admit one night during dinner that you’re afraid that he doesn’t need you anymore because of how well he’s assimilated to argentina without you. he takes your hand and fervently reassures you that despite moving here, you’ll always be his home.

boyfriend!oikawa who won’t let go of your hand the entire time you’re walking on the beach afterward. “people are staring, tooru.” “let them stare.”

boyfriend!oikawa who takes you to the airport when you eventually have to leave. he impulsively buys a ticket for the flight solely to wait with you at your gate for as long as possible. when it’s finally time to board, he watches with teary eyes as you walk away. it takes all his willpower not to get on the plane with you.

boyfriend!oikawa who loves you more than life itself and is counting the days until he can be with you again. 

extras ! (cw: suggestive :3)

boyfriend!oikawa who’s loved kissing you since the beginning of your relationship, but now that you’re long distance, there’s a little more desperation in his touch. during nights spent together, he makes a habit of littering you with kisses. his lips start at the top of your head, make their way down to your stomach, and if he’s feeling lucky he goes a little further.

boyfriend!oikawa who unwinds after practice by hand-feeding you food. it’s cute at first, but sometimes it goes overboard and makes you wonder what his true motivations are.  “try this one. this one too!” “tooru, you’re gonna make me choke” “im just getting you prepped!” “FOR WHAT.” 

boyfriend!oikawa who almost convinces you to extend your trip simply by how well he knows how to make you tick. when you kiss for the last time, his hand snakes down your waist and pulls you closer in a way that leaves you breathless. he laughs at your blissed-out expression and tells you, “you’ll have to visit your lonely boyfriend again to get another one of those.”  you roll your eyes and whisper in his ear to inquire about other things you’ll get when you visit him again, and he goes red in the face.

—a/n: me making oikawa content on this blog is the equivalent of walking into your kitchen and seeing a fish cooking pasta.

[likeumeanit9497]

blue pill | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: alternate outcome of this;)

warnings: unprotected p in v; oral (m/f receiving); fingering; switch!matt; matt the munch (yes pls); dirty talk; use of boner pills; deepthroating; 18+

notes: here u are my matt queens!! if u start reading this and think ummm hello i've read this before????? no u haven't dw this has the exact same beginning as red pill the reader just makes a different choice when things start gettin hot;) if you've read red pill already and don't feel like u need a refresher on the buildup skip to the bolded sentence. i hope y'all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! love u all so so much <333

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“This is so fucking stupid.” Matt groaned, sitting in between his brothers on the living room couch, holding a single red pill delicately in between two fingers as though it was a toxin. “Bro you’re the one who came up with the idea and bought them.” Chris retorted, inspecting the identical pill in his own hand. “Yeah, and I have no fucking clue why I agreed to this.” Nick chimed in, his voice filled with misery. “Because you can never turn down a competition.” I replied cheekily from my place on the other couch, giggling at the boys’ petty arguing.

Leaning forward, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket — opening up the timer app and hovering my finger over the start button. “Now hurry up and take them dummies, I’ll keep score.” I peered up at them as they gave each other tentative looks, seemingly hoping that one was going to have a change of heart. When nothing but silence followed, they all seemed to unanimously commit, dropping the red pills on their tongues and chasing them down with soda. As soon as they swallowed, I started the timer and sat back; crossing my arms across my chest with a smirk plastered to my face.

After the guys had posted the video at the gas station where Matt was talking about his idea for the sex pills, I had jokingly messaged him saying that I would gladly keep score if they really did it. Taking my message seriously, Matt had secretly gone out and grabbed three pills before inviting me over tonight. Thinking we were all just going to hangout, I was shocked when I showed up to find the pills neatly lined up on the coffee table and the three brothers pacing around the room arguing. After plenty of deliberation, Matt finally convinced Nick and Chris, and now here they were; awkwardly looking between themselves and me.

“How long do these even take to kick in?” Asked Chris, toying with the can of Pepsi in his hand. Grabbing one of the packages from the coffee table, Matt examined it for a moment. “It says thirty minutes.” He replied, sighing and running a hand through his messy hair. “This is ridiculous.” Remarked Nick, shaking his head as though he was disappointed in everyone in the room. Still giggling, I stretched my legs along the couch. “Oh come on,” I whined, “Relax, get comfy, and let the games begin.”

𓆩☆𓆪

“Okay, this isn’t working.” Nick deadpanned, locking his phone and throwing it beside him. “Really?” Asked Chris, turning to face his brother. Dropping his jaw, Nick made a disgusted face. “Is it for you?” Chris smirked bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m feeling somethin’.” He replied, to which Matt and Nick both groaned. “What about you Matt?” I asked, eyeing his still-relaxed frame leaning against the couch. Jutting out his bottom lip, he shrugged. “No, nothin’.” Chris groaned beside him, and I couldn’t help but notice him adjust himself slightly. “Great, now I feel weird.” He said, grabbing a blanket and swiftly draping it across his lap. I laughed and slowly pulled myself up from the couch.

“Looks like you might end up being the loser.” I teased as I began tidying up the packages strewn around the room. “I will n-” Dropping to my knees, I collected torn up pieces of packaging that had gathered at Chris’s feet. Noticing that Chris’s words had been cut short and now the room had fallen into heavy silence, I glanced up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes — which from up close seemed glassy and dilated — were on me, his mouth open slightly from his disrupted speech, and even his breathing seemed slightly rapid as his chest rose and fell.

Noticing this, Nick threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Chris are you serious? See I knew this was a fucking horrible idea.” His sharp words pulled Chris’s eyes away from me, and he winced at his brother. “I’m sorry,” He replied, his words aimed at both Nick and myself, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.” He added, seeming to grow increasingly uncomfortable. I giggled nervously before pulling myself back up to my feet. “It’s okay.” I reassured him before bringing the packages to the garbage; using the short walk to recover from that oddly intense moment.

As I returned, I suddenly noticed Matt fidgeting in his place on the couch, his brows knit in what seemed to be anguish. With Nick scrolling on his phone and Chris burying his head in his hands, I seemed to be the only one noticing Matt’s sudden discomfort. I chuckled as I slid back into my seat. “You good Matt?” I asked, teasing him. His eyes shot up to mine, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “Uh…yeah. All—all good.” He replied, his voice thick and slightly raspy.

Glancing down at my phone, I check the timer. It had been 32 minutes since they took the pills. I smiled gently. “Right on time.” I replied, shooting him a knowing look which just made him grow even more visibly restless. My comment grabbed the attention of Nick and Chris, and they turned to look at their rosy-cheeked brother. “You too?” Nick shouted, jumping up off of the couch. Matt grimaced, shrugging his shoulders again. “It’s not like I can control it.” He replied, letting out an uncomfortable laugh. Sighing, Nick began walking towards the stairs. “Whoa! Where are you going?” Chris asked him. “Nothing is happening to me dumbass! And I will absolutely not be sitting around you two anymore now that you’re both bricked up.” He sassed as he began climbing the stairs. “Good luck Y/n!” He called as he disappeared into his bedroom.

“Looks like we’re in a 1 v 1.” I said, wiggling my eyebrows teasingly. I registered the look of torment on the faces of Matt and Chris, and decided that it would be in my best interest to hold back my laughter. “Let’s see who can make it to an hour.” I added. Chris grunted as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I’ll be lucky if I make it another five minutes.” He replied, his voice also more gruff than usual. “Aww c’mon, you can do it.” I encouraged, moving to place a reassuring hand on his knee but deciding against it. As the room fell back into silence, I could hear Matt’s heavy breathing permeated by the occasional soft whine.

Although I was trying to keep things light-hearted, their overwhelming arousal was growing more and more palpable. My wandering eyes flittered from Matt’s bottom lip pulled in between his teeth to Chris’s temple coated in a sheen of sweat. As I focused on their features, it was as though their chemically-induced lust was contagious. I began to feel my own heart pounding in my chest, and I noticed a dampness in my panties that hadn’t been there before. In that silent room, all of our desires suddenly fell in sync with one another, and it was growing harder and harder to ignore.

“I need to go deal with this.” Chris suddenly blurted out, his voice laced with urgency as his focused eyes stared straight ahead. “You’re throwin’ in the towel?” Asked Matt, his lips curling into a smile infused with what seemed to be an odd combination of arrogance and relief. Chris winced as he tried to lean forward, nodding his head intensely. I watched in painful silence as he folded his hands together and pressed them against his plump lips, deep in thought. Very slowly, his eyes were pulled in my direction.

I froze under his gaze, the look he was giving me was worth a thousand words. My brows furrowed momentarily, instinctually denying what his eyes were asking me, before I felt my body begin to react. Heart pounding in my ears, I leaned back against the couch and crossed my legs; dying for some relief. “Hey—what’s going on?” Matt’s voice infiltrated mine and Chris’s stare-down. Picking up on the shift of air in the room, his eyebrows shot up. “Chris, no! That’s not how this works.” He exclaimed, turning to face his brother. Still looking at me, a smirk pulled at the corner of Chris’s lips. “We never laid down any ground rules kid.” He replied, and I felt my throat go dry.

“Well…” Matt’s exasperated voice trailed off for a moment, “Well, who said you get to fuck her?” The words sat heavy in the air around us, the reality of the situation being verbalized for the first time. I couldn’t manage to get a single word out if I tried, nor did I have the power to pull my eyes from Chris’s heady gaze. Chris chuckled, pulling himself off of the couch before slowly beginning to walk towards me. “No one,” He began, his voice suddenly menacing, “That’s up to her.” He finished just as he stopped in front of me, his frame towering above me with his tantalizing bulge directly in my line of sight.

Very slowly, he leaned down so that we were once again face-to-face. I felt my cheeks burn red from the situation I had suddenly found myself in, and the desire was radiating off of me in pulses. “What do you say?” He asked, his dilated eyes flooded with amusement. I swallowed, trying my best to re-instate my own vocal chords. Just as I was about to squeak out a response, a mindless gasp fell from my lips as Chris ducked his head down; his face buried in my neck.

My eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but once they opened they immediately landed on Matt’s tense figure sitting on the couch. His eyes were wide open, showing me just how badly he was suffering in that moment. The sheer need radiating from his gaze on me was infiltrating my mind, but the feeling of Chris’s warm breath dancing against my neck made it difficult for anything else to matter.

That is, until my eyes trailed down to Matt’s lap.

In between his fidgeting thighs, I saw the perfect outline of his cock. His pitiful arousal was evident in the shaded contours of his length in combination with the dark bead of pre-cum leaking through his grey sweats, letting me know that he had made the unsavoury decision of skipping on boxers. The visual of it — him being so transparently aroused while simultaneously ashamed — caused my mind to wander.

It wandered to the thought of me on my knees, wrapping my lips around his satin-skinned cock while he twitched and moaned out my name; dying to give into a release that was almost too much to handle. It wandered to the feeling of his sharp breath against my skin as he whined into my touch; bucking his hips as I teased his sensitive tip. It wandered to the idea of him taking out his insatiable hunger on my core — now slick with arousal —licking, sucking, groaning against its heat.

My silence flooded the room, and as I fought against the urge to drool at the thoughts swimming through my mind, a look of recognition flashed across Matt’s flushed face. I kept my eyes glued to him as Chris’s mouth traveled across my neck, and watched his heaving chest and white-knuckled fists at his side. His eyes — now four shades darker and twice as droopy as they usually are — were telling me a story. A story of exactly what he wanted to do to me — what he wanted me to do to him. And then — just as Chris nibbled against a particularly sensitive part of my neck and my eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, another soft whine slipped from the lips of the man watching me. The one who so clearly needed my help.

Using all my self restraint, I placed a gentle but firm hand on Chris’s chest. “I’m sorry Chris,” I spoke, feeling bad about my inability to help out both brothers. But, I knew for a fact that Chris had a much longer roster than his triplet brother, and was sure that he would be able to have someone over in less than 10 minutes to help him out. At my words, Chris released a disappointed huff of air against my skin but didn’t fight against my hand. As he stood up, I had to force my eyes away from his own visible arousal that was still within my reach.

“I wouldn’t recommend staying out here, I’m gonna get Marie to come over.” Chris grumbled, his voice still thick with arousal, before shooting his brother the middle finger and heading for the stairs leading to his bedroom. Once we were alone, the weight of the situation seemed to fill the space between us, making it difficult for me to breathe. The intensity of Matt’s gaze, never once leaving me, didn’t make things any easier — his retinas might as well have been screens playing out all of the filthy scenes that were running through both of our minds.

Forcing myself back to reality, I gathered all of my thoughts and nudged my head in the direction of his bedroom down the hall. “Should we go?” My question elicited the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple, and a curt nod of his head. On shaky legs, I stood up. He wrapped an uncertain, hovering arm around my waist and together we began walking towards his bedroom. As we walked, I felt, more than heard, his breathing grow more and more rapid; his pulse radiating from his body into my own.

Just as we passed the kitchen and entered the hallway, Matt stopped in his tracks. “Wait, Y/n,” Gently, he grabbed onto my hips and pressed me against the wall, standing in front of me with concern etched into his face. “Are you sure you’re good with this?” His question a paradox to his obvious desperation to get relief, I stifled a surprised laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure.” I replied, amused. Still not satisfied, he continued. “I just don’t want you to think that you have to do this, I mean I got these pills as a joke and really just invited you to keep score. You’re my friend and I don’t want you to think this was my pl—”

I cut him off with a finger pressed gently to his soft lips. Although his concern was charming and even comforting to me, it was entirely unnecessary. “Matt,” I began, my voice dropped to a low whisper as I looked up at him through my eyelashes, “I’m good with this.” Tracing the tattoos on his arm slowly, I continued, “See for yourself.” His eyes scanned my face for a moment, confused, before a glint of understanding appeared. Very slowly, his eyes dropped to my lower half and wordlessly I encouraged him by widening my stance slightly. One of his hands that had been resting on my hip began toying with the waistband of my shorts, before it creeped down the front of the cotton material blindly.

As soon as his long fingers reached my slippery heat, we both released simultaneous groans. His skin was so cold against my own, and as they gently slid in between my folds it sent a delicious shiver down my spine. “God,” Matt breathed, his eyes glued to my clothed heat as though he had x-ray vision. I bit my lower lip as I fought the urge to moan from the feeling of his exploring fingers, but all restraint disappeared once he reached my throbbing bundle of nerves. As the erotic noise fell from my lips, Matt’s eyes fluttered back up to mine before he pulled my lips into a feverish kiss.

Drawing slow circles against my clit, Matt’s tongue slipped delicately into my mouth with a certain hunger I hadn’t quite experienced before. Even as I relished in the taste of him combined with the exquisite pressure he was using against my nerves, I recognized that he was holding back some of his desperation. “Like that,” I breathed against his lips, panting as he worked me into a frenzy. He released a puff of air through his nostrils in response, shifting on his feet as he struggled to keep his composure.

“S-so wet for you.” I continued egging him on, finding his resistance to let go erotic. “S-so wet.” He parroted, his breathing rapid against my swollen lips before they traveled down my jaw and onto my neck. My eyes fluttered shut as I felt his mouth toy with my delicate skin, though the feeling was cut short as he pulled his head back slightly, his breathing hot against my ear. “D-don’t love that.” He muttered, running his thumb along my neck where I was sure his brother had left dark purple bruises just moments before.

Grabbing his jaw, I gently pulled his face up so that I could lock eyes with him. His fingers were still circling my clit, so through breathy gasps I spoke, “Why don’t you plant your own somewhere else?” I watched as his face suddenly grew overcome with aching fervour, before his hands slid back to my waistband and he sunk to his knees; taking my shorts and thong down to my ankles with him. My gaze followed him to the floor, and with a slacked jaw I watched as Matt took in the sight of me exposed just inches away from him. His hands crawled back up my thighs and his thumbs brushed delicately against the silky smooth skin of my bikini line before he brought his mouth to my pelvis.

His tongue swirled against my skin in a place I was sure had never been kissed before. He groaned, the sound muffled by his suckling lips, and I felt as though I might melt away from how worshipped I felt in that moment. My skin began to grow warm under his nibbling and sucking, and my stomach flipped from the sight of the angry purple bruise he had left once his mouth began moving closer to my aching core.

Just as Matt’s nose brushed against my heat, he pulled back slightly and used his grip on my thighs to pull my legs further apart. With a look of anguished hunger, he pulled his lower lip between his teeth as his thumbs spread apart my folds; granting him an unrestricted view of the arousal dripping from my core. “Jesus,” His singular word held the weight of all of the desire radiating between the two of us, and like the snap of an elastic band, all of his self-restraint dissipated as he impulsively ran his flat tongue along my heat; causing me to cry out in ecstasy as he savoured my sweet arousal against his tastebuds.

As if he was an addict and had just had his first fix, Matt turned into someone unrecognizable with his face buried between my thighs. His fingers wrapped so tightly around my thighs that I was sure he was going to leave a bruise as his tongue flicked deliciously against my swollen bundle of nerves. “Oh god, Matt!” I cried out, lacing my fingers through his hair and pressing my heat against him desperately. He responded to my pathetic moans by throwing one of my legs around his shoulder; granting his tongue a new angle that sent shock waves down my spine.

“So fucking good.” He groaned against my cunt, his voice more hoarse than usual. His tongue slid from my bundle of nerves down to my entrance, which he circled for a moment before plunging the strong muscle into it; lapping up my juices as I struggled to stand upright. He used his tongue to fuck me, his own moans echoing through my walls as his nose simultaneously rubbed my puffy clit, and the short hallway filled with the wet sounds of my needy cunt being worked towards my impending orgasm.

“F-fuck Matt,” I whined, rolling my hips hungrily against his face, “I-I’m gonna-” Without even finishing my words, Matt grunted in approval before fumbling blindly with his sweatpants. Through hooded lids I watched in glory as Matt slipped his pants down just enough to let his veiny cock free. Without removing his working mouth, he slid two fingers in the shape of a V through my folds to collect my juices before bringing his slippery hand to his cock; stroking it in rhythm with his movements against my cunt.

My legs began to shake and my vision grew blurry from my fast-approaching orgasm, though I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Matt as he milked his cock; clearly grown too desperate to wait another moment for relief. Just as he released a throaty moan against my cunt and I felt myself begin to give in to the overwhelming pressure radiating through every nerve in my body, I froze at the sound of the front door opening.

Chris’s lucky roster pick.

Matt and I locked eyes, sharing a look of mutual anguish before he jumped to his feet. Without even bothering to get dressed, I slipped out of my discarded bottoms and silently headed for Matt’s bedroom, the heat of his own brooding frame close behind me. As soon as we were behind the closed door, Matt tried to drop to his knees once again. Although it took nearly all of the self-restraint that I held in my body, I grabbed onto his shoulders to stop him. “Matt, you’re torturing yourself.” I whispered, dropping my eyes to his throbbing cock — bright red and swollen at the tip.

He pouted, running a gentle hand through my hair. “But you taste so fuckin’ good.” He breathed out just before engulfing my lips with his own; allowing me to taste my own sweetness against his slick tongue. His hands toyed with the bottom of my shirt, tugging it gently as though asking for permission. I pulled away from his mouth, drunk from the way I tasted on him, and allowed him to slip my shirt over my head. His pleading eyes dropped to my tits, and he ran the pad of his thumb along my pebbled nipple before dropping it back down to the bundle of nerves between my legs.

“You were so close to cumming,” He added. His voice was deep yet laced with the whine of a man who needed something bad, and it numbed my mind for a second. He pressed his thumb against my clit, slowly adding more and more pressure as I bit my bottom lip. “We can cum together.” I offered, looking up at him through droopy eyelids as my stomach flipped from the thought of him inside of me at last.

That thought seemed to have been mirrored in Matt’s mind as well, because his blown out eyes grew hazy and his brows knit together in wistful lust. Taking his expression as my answer, I gestured toward his bed behind him. With a curious smirk, Matt slipped off his t-shirt and began walking backwards towards his bed; using his grip on my hips to pull me with him. As his heels reached the frame, I gently pushed him down so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Although a part of me wanted to straddle his lap and sink down onto his gorgeous cock immediately, instead of following him onto the bed I dropped onto my knees before him.

His eyes glimmered for a moment. “What are you doing?” He asked, the mild concern on his face worked paradoxically with his hands gathering my hair into a make-shift ponytail. I snaked my hands up his legs, letting them rest just centimetres away from his cock; the nearly-there contact making it jump. “Just wanna taste you too,” My seductive words caused his hands to subconsciously tighten in my hair just as I wrapped my lips around his spongey tip.

His savoury pre-cum on my tastebuds intoxicated me, and I lapped it up hungrily before bobbing my head in a rapid, but steady, rhythm. A whiney groan fell from his lips, his thighs twitched under my hands as I let his cock reach the back of my throat; swallowing around it and relishing in his needy reaction. “Mmm Y/n,” He groaned, his breath rapid as he struggled to keep his composure, “F-feels so good,” His grip in my hair was firm, as though that was what was holding him steady, but I felt his thumbs gently brush my neck in a way that was comforting to both of us.

Relaxing my throat, I pushed myself all the way down his long cock so that my nose pressed against his flexed stomach. A sharp whimper filled the room as I gargled his entire length until tears began streaming down my face, and already I felt his cock begin to swell in my throat. “Oh god baby, not g-gonna la-ast — s-so clos-se.” His words were choppy, punctuated by his rapid breathing as his body grew red from the hot arousal. Panties flooding, I took his words as motivation and swallowed his cock fervently; knowing that he had to be close to pain by how hard he was.

A chorus of sharp, rapid whines began slipping from Matt’s lips, and I felt his body begin to tremble under my touch as his balls tightened against my chin. His hips lifted from the bed in uncontrollable pleasure, and after a final, exquisite moan, I felt the warmth of his cum as his powerful orgasm washed over him. I fought the urge to gasp at the sheer amount of fluid that filled my mouth, but was pulled back by the addicting taste of him on my tongue. Greedily, I swallowed everything that he had before continuing to slowly bob my head.

Matt’s body writhed under my warm mouth, and only once he released a pathetic moan from my tongue swirling around the crest of his head did I pull back; releasing his still-hard cock with a pop. My vision was blurry from my tears, but I still managed to pull my eyes from the string of saliva dangling from his leaking cock back to his flushed face; gazing down at me in shock. “I…I’ve never finished that fast in my fucking life.” His words were laced with genuine astonishment, causing me to laugh in amusement.

“We can blame the pill,” I replied, pulling myself off of the floor and climbing on top of him on the bed. As soon as my core was level with his lap, his hands gripped firmly onto the flesh of my ass and his cock flexed against the pressure of my body. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I laughed before subtly pushing him back so that he was laying flat on the bed. “Doesn’t matter anyways, looks like you still got more in you.”

My words seemed to awaken something within him, because as soon as they left my mouth Matt flipped us over so that it was now me who was laying flat against the bed. His mouth consumed my own once again, the taste of both of our arousal now floating between our tongues. My head spun from the glorious feeling of being underneath Matt, feeling somehow so powerless yet so in tune with my own body. A gasp slipped from my lips as I felt his cock brush against my heat, the urge to be filled now growing void of any ignorance.

“You still wet?” Matt breathed against my lips, using a hand to spread my legs apart before bringing it to my sensitive core. A satisfied hum fell from his lips as he felt the warm juices of my arousal not only pooled in between my legs, but smeared all down my inner thighs from the pleasure of having him fall apart in my mouth. “Oh you’re fuckin soaked baby,” He cooed, his voice gentle against my parted lips. I writhed against his investigative fingers, needing more contact than what he was granting me by admiring just how turned on I had grown.

Growing impatient, I reached down and grabbed his sticky cock, eliciting a hiss from him as I guided it towards my needy entrance. “Jesus,” Matt groaned, overwhelmed by the confirmation of my insatiable need for him, before allowing himself to be guided by my hand. Just as I felt the head of his cock sink into the crest of my aching pussy, I let go of his shaft and relied on the fervour warmth of my walls to swallow his length.

He slid into me slowly, with anguish, and once he bottomed out guttural moans fell from both of our lips. He filled me so intensely that I felt feverish, delirious with desire. My walls welcomed him graciously, though they enveloped him so tightly I was worried he may not be able to move. Just as that thought crossed my mind, Matt pulled himself almost entirely out of me before driving his cock back down to the hilt. A gasp fell from my lips as my arms wrapped around his neck, overcome with the relief that his movements granted me.

“Holy fuck,” Matt grunted, and as I looked up at him I recognized the look of strain on his face and throughout his muscles. “You’re s-so tight.” The tensity of his voice drew a soft moan from me, and by wrapping my legs around his waist I urged him to keep moving. Recognizing my silent request, he began pumping himself into me. He started slow, though on each thrust it was as if my cunt began to stretch more and more for him until it moulded to fit him perfectly, to which he responded by going harder and faster.

The squelching sound of our bodies as they joined together provided a perfect harmony to the slurry of moans that fell from both of our lips. Matt snaked a hand around my lower back, adding a new level of pressure as he held me tight against him. I cried out as he wrapped his warm mouth against a hardened nipple, swirling his tongue around the dark pink, sensitive bud as he snapped his hips into me. “Feels…so…good…” Matt’s words were punctuated by his thrusts, and his breath tickled against my skin as he spoke into my plush breast. I mewled in response, nails turning into claws against the tense skin of his back.

“N-eeded this s-so fucking b-bad. T-thank you,” Solace was already evident in his voice, and his gratitude was enough to make my head spin. He lifted his head from my chest and placed his open mouth against my own with the intention of kissing me, but we were both so caught up in the mutual pleasure radiating through our bodies that the most we could do was breathe against one another; matching the tempos of our beating hearts. Matt’s thrusts began to grow sloppier, his breath more ragged, and the heat of our bodies came crashing down on me.

“N-need you to cum baby,” Matt groaned, slight panic and desperation laced through his tone. I released a pathetic moan, knowing I was close but could sense from his words that he was closer. “P-please Y/n, I’m — so c-close,” The trepidation was evident in his voice now, and I whined as I fought to stay on track chasing my own high. “K-keep going, just l-like that,” I purred, closing my eyes as I focused on my impending orgasm.

Matt’s hand traveled down my body in between my legs, where his thumb went to work vigorously swirling against my overstimulated bundle of nerves. Immediately, I felt myself inch closer and closer to the high I had been dying for. “F-fuck!” I cried out, my body beginning to tremble from the intensity of the oncoming waves of pleasure. “Please—Please—Please,” Matt grunted with each weakened thrust, his voice thick with untethered need as I felt his cock begin to swell inside of me; ready to erupt any minute.

Finally, after another desperate swirl along my clit in sync with a quick snap of his hips, Matt drew a long string of moans from my lips and pushed me over the edge of my teetering orgasm. Upon the first erratic pulse of my spongey walls, Matt released his own guttural moan and cried out my name before I felt his warm seed spill deep into my core. Although his body seemed to want to give in to the waves of pleasure it was experiencing, he forced his hips to continue to drive into me; helping me ride out my high as my clammy back arched off of the mattress and my legs constricted his waist. I felt the indescribable release of pressure as I squirted all along his throbbing cock and lower stomach, earning a satisfied moan from Matt as he let his eyes drop to admire the sight.

Only once our bodies began to relax and we came down from our highs did Matt halt his movements; crashing his exhausted body onto mine and burying his face in my neck. I let myself sink into the soft mattress under his comforting weight, focusing on my decreasing heart rate and the feeling of Matt’s hand running up and down my side. My eyes fluttered shut, the physical exertion draining me of all energy, and I felt us simultaneously fall into a peaceful lull as our breathing steadied.

After what could have been hours, Matt lifted his head from my neck and shot me a bashful smile. “I’m never taking one of those fucking pills again.” Laughing, I propped myself up on my elbows and smiled down at him. “So what I’m hearing is that was horrible and you hate me.” Matt scoffed, jokingly rolling his eyes. “Obviously not, Y/n. The issue is that was way too fucking good. And we’re friends. Friends can’t be dogging each other like that.” Matt ran a hand through his hair, a sign that behind his joking tone he was genuinely stressing out over what we had done.

I grabbed his tattooed arm gently, getting his attention. “Hey crazy, don’t worry. It was a one time thing caused by your little boner pill. It won’t happen again.” He sighed, rolling off of me and draping his body along the bed beside me. “Won’t happen again.” He repeated softly, staring up at the ceiling with concern still etched in his face. “Hey,” I looked down at him in amusement, “At least you feel better though, right?” Slowly, Matt turned to face me with that same flushed look he had on the couch an hour ago. Wincing, he let his gaze drop to his dick — still standing straight up in the air; red and swollen at the tip.

“One more time?”

“One more time.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[loafysainz]

His Mistress | CS 55

carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: mdni, possessive, harsh carlos, cheating

please do not read it uf youre not into dark fic!

Carlos Sainz had it all. The last name, the wealth, the looks, the charm. His family owned one of the largest automotive empires in the world, and Carlos? He was their golden boy—successful in his own right, running his own business in the same industry. Everyone loved him. The media adored him, his parents were proud, and people saw him as this picture-perfect man—humble, respectful, and effortlessly charismatic.

And now, with the news of his engagement to Rebecca, an insanely gorgeous and world-renowned model, the public’s obsession with him only grew stronger. Power couple, they called them. A match made in heaven. Everyone was convinced Carlos had the perfect life.

Everyone, except one person.

Y/N.

Because unlike the rest of the world, Y/N knew who Carlos Sainz truly was.

And she knew, because she was the secret he kept locked away.

No one else knew about the luxurious house tucked away in the hills, far from the noise of the city. No one else had ever seen the woman who lived inside. A woman so stunning, so unreal in her beauty, that Carlos had never been able to let go. He met her years ago when she worked as his personal assistant, and from the moment their eyes met, he knew. There was something about her—something addictive, something he wanted to keep to himself.

So he did.

Y/N hadn’t stepped out of this house in years. Not because she couldn’t, but because Carlos wouldn’t let her. No one else got to see her. No one else got to have her.

She was his.

—

Carlos stormed into the house that night, his jaw tight, his patience worn thin.

He had just come from a family meeting—one where his parents and Rebecca’s team had gone over details for his wedding. His future. As if he even gave a shit about any of it. He hated the idea of marriage. Hated feeling trapped.

And now? He needed an escape.

Needed her.

The moment he saw Y/N standing there, he crossed the room in three long strides, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into him. She barely had time to breathe before his lips crashed onto hers, his hands gripping her like he needed to remind himself that she was real. That she was still here, still his.

And she let him. Because what else could she do?

The room was silent after. Only the sound of their heavy breaths remained, mingling in the space between them. Carlos was still lying beside her, his arm draped lazily over her bare waist when his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Rebecca.

He exhaled sharply, grabbing the phone and unlocking it.

She had sent a series of messages, asking for his opinion on which wedding gown to wear.

Carlos barely glanced at the options before passing the phone to Y/N. “Reply to her,” he muttered.

Y/N hesitated, staring at the screen.

“Now.” His voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she typed out a response, picking a gown at random.

Moments later, Rebecca called.

Carlos didn’t even hesitate before answering, his voice soft, sweet, nothing like the man who had just pinned Y/N down minutes ago.

“Hi, cariño,” Rebecca’s voice chirped through the speaker. “I’m so happy you picked this gown. It’s my favorite too.”

Carlos forced a small chuckle, eyes flicking to Y/N. She was staring at the ceiling, trying not to react.

After a few more seconds of Rebecca’s excited chatter, the call ended.

The second the screen went dark, the temperature in the room shifted. Carlos turned his head, his gaze dark, sharp, cutting straight through Y/N like a blade.

“What gown did you pick?” His voice was eerily calm.

Y/N swallowed, then slowly showed him the picture.

Silence.

Then, “Why did you pick that one?”

She hesitated, then spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… beautiful.”

Carlos let out a dry laugh. A humorless, mocking sound.

His fingers tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Did you pick it because you like it?” His voice was lower now, almost a whisper. “Did you think about yourself in it?”

Her breath hitched.

“Did you think,” Carlos continued, his grip tightening, “that one day you could wear a dress like this?”

Y/N’s lips parted, but no words came out.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though there was no warmth behind it. He leaned in, voice dripping in something cold, something final.

“Never.”

His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, almost gently. Almost.

“You don’t get to dream about that, cariño. You don’t get to think about a life where you wear a dress like that.” His voice was sharp now, biting. “You belong here. With me. And only me.”

A single tear slipped down Y/N’s cheek.

Carlos watched it fall, his expression unreadable.

And then he kissed her again—slow, deep, claiming.

As if sealing a promise.

As if reminding her—

That no matter what, no matter who the world thought he was, no matter how perfect he seemed—

She would always be his best-kept secret.

[tsukii0002]

I liked your mc calling the brothers their husband post. Would you do something similar with the undatables? Absolutely fine if not!

Hello!!, Thank you for you message 🥺. Apart from the dateable ones I include the non dateable ones because they deserve it. This time the situations are longer and more elavorate, a little bit of love for the side characters. Although it took me a little while, I hope you enjoy it.

Part of the brothers

Warning: I wasn't sure how to write these situations so the formatting may be a bit messy, and in this case Mc is the same person as the reader.

Diavolo

Diavolo had to go to the human world to close some deals with the Corvo company and you decided to accompany him. But it was a matter of minutes before people approached him to ask if he was a star or a celebrity. Following his friendly nature, he talked to everyone and even took pictures, a small group of people approached you, seeing that you knew him.

Woman: How handsome, is he a model?

Man: Who is he?

Mc: He is my husband *smile* and he is not a model.

Diavolo didn't dissimulate, he didn't wait, he turned quickly and walked briskly beside you. His eyes were shining, crystalline, he didn't know what to do, that was unknown ground for him. He was trying to tell you a hundred things so fast that you didn't understand him. You took him by the arm and pulled him away from the crowd. Despite his excitement, he put his hand on yours with extreme gentleness, as if he was afraid that his touch would make you suddenly disappear.

Mc: Did I say something I shouldn't have?

Diavolo: What? No, no, you haven't said anything you shouldn't….

He looked away totally blushing.

Diavolo: Are you sure… that despite of everything, of who I am… you would want me as your husband?

Mc: *moved* I couldn't think of anyone else Dia.

Diavolo: *shining like the sun* I couldn't be anyone else but you either, spouse.

Barbatos

You had agreed to help Barbatos tidy up a room full of relics, the demon was very grateful to you.

Little D: It's very sweet of you to help Mr. Barbatos.

Mc: Well, it's only natural to help my husband.

The little demons put their little hands to their mouths while laughing excitedly. You laughed too, but you stopped when you felt a whisper in your ear, when you turned around there was Barbatos, with a kind smile and his cheeks a little colored, he was looking at you with immense affection. He put his hand to his chin and began to watch you curiously, now you were the nervous one. The Little d's laughed mischievously.

Barbatos: It is, without a doubt, the greatest treasure I could find in this room.

Mc: Th- the what?

Barbatos: Ju, ju, the time I spend with you, my spouse.

Barbatos held you by the waist and hand, as if to dance, you grabbed his shoulder and let him guide you around the room. He hugged you as he caressed your face with his cheek. It was hard to read, but his eyes exuded an endearment rare to see in him.

Barbatos: I never considered having a spouse before.

Mc: *laughing* No?

Barbatos: No, but now that I've found myself having the best spouse in the three realms, I've realized how much I wanted to have them.

Mc: Damn *totally blushing*

Little D's: Kyaaa!!!

Solomon

Solomon had gotten into an argument with a demon, the sorcerer seemed to be having fun, but you knew you had to stop him from getting into more serious trouble (with Barbatos). The demon was throwing in his face certain problems with his artifacts and conflicts of the past while your master just laughed, you jumped in the middle without hesitating, the demon looked at you.

Mc: Stop it, you are not going to achieve anything arguing with him….

Demon: Do you even know who this shameless guy is?

Mc: Of course I do, he is MY husband.

The scene was hilarious, Solomon with his hands up grabbed by the collar of his shirt by a demon, the chaos stopped, the second one looked with a face of disbelief and the first one at first had his usual smile, but then he suddenly turned red and seemed to emanate heat. He began to gesticulate, the demon let go and the crowd dissipated. Solomon stood looking at you, very still, his face had no trace of his usual amused expression, he looked unusually shy.

Solomon: *taking his hand* Really… would you want a husband like me?

Mc: *squeezing his hand* I can't think of a better one.

Solomon laughed, that cute laugh, shy he was also charming.

Solomon: The two most powerful wizards in history, as husband and spouse… no one will stop us Mc.

Simeon

You and Simeon were going to run some errands in Devildom, you used to go together, because you were not intimidated to go out alone and Simeon felt better if he accompanied you. Some demons still had problems with the angels, (you are already mimicked), and some were not afraid to approach to provoke.

Demon: Oh? Who could this little angel be?

Mc: My husband.

Simeon dropped all the fruits as he looked at you, surprised, very surprised. The angel then started looking around and picking up the fruit with a nervous smile. With a look from you the demon left, embarrassed. You crouched down beside Simeon and could see that he was avoiding your gaze with a rosy face. You both stood up and laughed, though Simeon still avoided your gaze. You set off again and after a while Simeon spoke.

Simeon: I thought it was just me… *brings his hands to his face* I thought I was the only one who wanted to be your husband.

Mc: Well *acting surprised*, I'm pretty sure I've had an angel husband for a while.

Simeon: If so, *grinning nervously again* then I've had a human spouse for a long time.

The angel carries all the bags in one hand and holds out the other to you. Determined, you take it.

Raphael

Raphael had convinced you to go to a knitting club in the human world (how ????), the grannies loved it and when they saw you enter they began to whisper excitedly. You sat down in the ladies' circle next to Raphael and started knitting (or trying to), as conversation began to arise. One of the ladies asked you kindly.

Granny: Tell me, my child, what is your relationship with Raphael?

Mc: Raphael is my husband

Raphael blinked, then looked up with a look of confusion and looked at you even more confused, cocking his head like a puppy. The ladies began to whisper even more excitedly. Raphael looked around as his colors rose, pulled his chair closer to yours and looked you in the eye. The grannies left you alone.

Raphael: You…. *pause for reflection* are you serious?

You didn't really know what he meant, but you nodded, he seemed to reflect, with that serious face of his. The angel was an indecipherable person most of the time, it was part of his charm.

Raphael: I… I promise to be a good husband, I will always take care of you and I will make sure that…

Mc: *being cautious* What?

Raphael: *smiling* That my spouse will always be happy.

Mephistopeles

Mephisto had invited you to a party at his family mansion, despite denying it he tried to be by your side the whole time, trying not to leave you alone, but being the host it was too complicated. He talked to all kinds of demons while you watched him, you could see how he constantly looked in your direction in a hurry. Several of the guests approached you.

Demon: Why are you here *smugly and* how would you know Mr. Mephistopheles?

Mc: He *looking him up and down* is my husband.

Mephisto's face was a picture, he had heard it. It didn't take him two seconds to approach you, striding towards you, totally flushed.

Demon: Are you serious? That's impossible.

Mephisto: *raising his voice* I am their husband! And they are my spouse!

You remained silent, he had embraced you in a protective way, interposing himself between you and the demons, it was your turn to blush, the guests left. Mephisto held out his arm to you, you took it, he was looking straight ahead with a pout on his face totally blushing, but he put his other hand on yours, firm. I didn't know what else to say, you laughed.

Mc: I won't be a problem, husband?

Mephhisto: Don't separate from me, there is no problem… *almost stuttering* spouse.

Thirteen

You had promised to take Thirteen to a punk band concert upon the recommendation of some class friends (because yes, you had a social life in hell outside of the brothers and the others). Thirteen was trying to make every possible plan with you, and seeing her face colored with excitement or thrill was totally worth it. There you recognized a friend.

Dyed hair demon: Mc! How nice to see you, who is your friend?

Mc: Oh, this is my wife.

Your friend's face colored, Thirteen seemed to have stopped working as her eyes opened wider and wider, while her face blushed more and more, but then she let out a big laugh and hugged you tightly, giving you kisses and kisses all over your face, leaving her lipstick marked. Without taking her eyes off you and with the sweetest smile in the world she laughed again.

Mc: It's our special night, just for the two of us.

You circled her waist, then she took off one of the earrings hanging from her ears and put it on your finger, to then link her hand with yours.

Thirteen: *with very flushed cheeks and a mischievous smile* I love making these plans with you, spouse.

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Thanks for reading🌸

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[taelortot]

Mine to keep

Choso Kamo

8.3k words

Summary: Choso is so very much in love with his best friend but she doesn’t feel the same way.. until she does.

If you see spelling mistakes or name errors, no you didn’t! (Not proof read)

"You look so beautiful, princess." Choso mumbles looking down at y/n. As if her body was molded by God himself, just for him. Fucking made for him— he knew that to be true. Ethereal she is, a fucking angel sent down from heaven, just for him.

"You have no idea how bad I want you" Choso could feel himself getting hard looking at y/n, at how breath taking she truly is. Look at her— laid out all pretty for Choso. Pink cotton panties bunched up in her ass, tits almost spilling out of her tank top, pebbled nipples poking through the thin material. Ready to be worshipped.

"I love you" his voice a low murmur as the camera flashed, he needed to save this moment forever. Palming himself through his jeans while shaking the Polaroid impatiently. Dark eyes trail over her body, taking in her delicate frame, voice inside his head telling him to touch her already. His pretty girl needs him to touch her.

"I love you" Choso said again softly as he rubbed up and down on his hard length in his dark bedroom to the photographs he took of y/n. Some sticky already, some brand new and begging to be tainted.

Oh how beautiful she looked, splayed out, ready to be taken, cunt on display for Chosos perfectly thick cock. His pretty fingers in the photo, pulling her panties to the side to capture the sight of her perfect pussy.

"You'll be mine one day, princess"

Y/n looked so peaceful as she slept, a hard sleeper she is. Not even stirring a little to the sound of someone climbing in through her window or the sound of several clicks of Chosos camera. It’s almost like she was asking for him to do so, since she won’t even notice anyway.

Things that go bump in the night. Seeing shadows in the corner of your eye in a dark room. Feeling like someone is watching you from afar.

These are all normal things everyone experiences. Some chalk it up to their imagination, some say it’s ghosts or spirits. Some ignore it, while some embrace the unknown.

Y/n didn’t know what to make of it. Not the bumps that woke her up from the dead of sleep. Not the shadows she saw outside her bedroom late at night. Not the feeling of someone watching her while she walked down the street. Even when she looked over her shoulder and no one was there. It was a strange feeling— feeling as though someone is watching you.

But alas, no one is there. No one is ever there.

Well.. that’s where y/n was wrong. Someone was always there.

Choso was always there. Watching. Lurking. Waiting.

Y/n chalked it up to being paranoid. She had to be paranoid. She was going crazy for thinking she closed her panty drawer last night.. she must have left it open in the haze of sleep deprivation. Her favorite bra went missing? Y/n must have obviously misplaced it and it would show up sooner or later. Her window left open just a crack? Shit, she must have forgotten to close it before she left for training.

These were all logical explanations for the things happening to y/n over the course of the last two months.

At first it was little things.

Picture frames slightly moved. Lipgloss left out on the vanity. Y/n favorite book left open when it was most definitely closed.

Then, it was much more bold. Much more invasive. Her phone being left open to messages she knew she didn’t open. Toilet seat left up in her bathroom. A glass of water placed by her bed, condensation dripping on the nightstand when she wakes up in the morning. The window by her bed being left open when she gets back home from training.

Which is all very off putting, when y/n knows none of this was her. Absolutely not.

No no no.

It was all Choso.

Skipping his training to lay on her bed just to smell that sweet perfume. It was Choso riffling though her panty drawer to find a pair he had seen peeking out of her pants as she bent over earlier that day. It was Choso who stole y/ns favorite bra that was left in her laundry basket.

It was always Choso.

Choso didn't start out this way actually, it was very gradual, he almost didn't notice it himself.

He had no idea that he was turning into some sort of a stalker for one of his best friends. He had no idea the lengths he was willing to go to keep her all to himself. It was like a light switch of some sort, turning on and staying on.

It was like that creepy attic light that somehow turned on one day, and everyone is too scared to go up and turn it off.. because how did it turn on in the first place? So it just sits, wasting electricity, looming over you, almost mocking you.

So there he was, sitting, looming, stalking y/n. He was so far into it, he was scared to go back.

There was no going back. No going back from whatever this has manifested into. No going back to normal. This was his new normal.

How could he go back? When y/n is his reason to live. She is his fucking oxygen. His everything.

All his years on this earth, and now he really feels like he is truly alive.

When I say it was gradual.. it was.. until everything was full speed ahead and there was no looking back.

There is no going back.

"Morning guys!" Y/n beamed seeing all her friends.

"Morning!" They all chimed in less enthusiastically, no one was as cheery as y/n in the mornings. That may be due to the amount of caffeine y/n intakes.

"Where's Cho?” Y/n felt saddened at the missing presence of her best friend, he was normally always there, waiting with a smile on his face to greet her.

"Still pretty bummed out you wouldn't go on a date with him I guess." Yuji mumbled, earning a head nod from everyone else.

"I don't see what the big deal is! I just don't see him like that" y/n explained herself again for the millionth time. Really not understanding what the big deal was.

"Yeah but you could have just gone on the date and just told him you would rather stay friends" the pink haired one mumbled again, feeling his brothers pain.

"That's not my fault" y/n defended herself with a frown on her face.

Y/n recently turned down a date with Choso. Actually it was the third time Choso asked y/n out. It was never anything personal, she just didn't like him like that. Y/n didn't see anything wrong with it, she didn't understand what all the fuss was about.

Sure, she knew it must have hurt his feelings. She tried her best to not let him down harshly, she tried not to hurt his heart. She knew Choso liked her, she had known for almost a year at this point. It wasn't hard to figure out, Choso was always touchy, but he became a little too touchy with y/n. Choso was suddenly so nervous around y/n, becoming a nervous wreck and stumbling over his words. It was very cute and endearing at first, but slowly became too much of y/n to handle.

"Would you maybe- uh I don't know want to go on a.. on a date with... Me?" Choso asked with his hands fidgeting, his eyes anywhere but y/ns.

"Uhm.. I don't know Cho." Y/n paused once she saw the face he made, instantly frowning like a little puppy once he heard her uncertainty.

"I would like to.. I just don't want to ruin what we have. You’re my best friend, and I love you. But I don't think it's the best idea"

And that's how it went three times— Well almost three times. The third time Choso asked, y/n wasn't so nice.

"Choso! Please!" Y/n begged running her fingers through her hair, wanting to pull it out at this point.

"Y/n, I love you. I love you okay? I just want to make you happy, I want to take you out and show you I can be good for you, just give me a chance. Just one?" Choso begged, tears almost spilling in his eyes. His heart breaking as he spoke, he could practically hear the way it cracked inside his chest.

"No Choso. No. I just don't like you okay? I'm sorry but I don't like you like that." She told him, a voice that, Choso believed to have venom laced in it. It must have, because the way her words sliced into him and burned him so deep, it had to have been venom. There’s no way his best friend is standing there, looking down at him while he’s on knees, begging her with tears in his eyes and telling him no. Fingers digging into her hips, trying to pull her close, pull her into the dark abyss of his heart. If she gave him a chance. She would see.

Y/n hated that she had to be like that with him, he just didn't understand where she was coming from.

Choso didn't say anything after that. His gripped softened on y/ns body, pulling away completely. Standing from his knees he wiped his tears as his face turned cold and calloused. Turning away he left y/ns room, slamming her door so loudly the whole building shook from the force.

Choso left with his heart hurting. He didn’t understand why no one has ever liked him. He never met a girl that wanted to go out with him. All 150 years alive, and not one girl wanted to be his. Sure, some girls wanted to fuck him, but that’s it. No one wanted something real. And that’s all that Choso wants, to be loved. He wants to be seen.

When y/n and him became friends, he assumed other girls thought they were an item. Due to how close they are. Being completely honest, they did look like a couple at times. And Choso was sure y/n had feelings for him. He was so fucking sure about... but of course he was wrong.

Choso is always wrong.

Choso always makes the wrong choices, always.

Y/n was now a mark on the checklist of wrong choices.

Wait. Haha. No.

No no no.

Fucking no.

That cannot be correct.

Y/n was the right choice. She just don’t know yet.

But she will.

The two grew up didn’t grow up together, but were so close after only a year of knowing each other, it seemed what way. Attached at the hip, both of them did everything together. Movie nights, hangouts, late night snacks, missions.. everything.

About 5 months ago is when Choso decided he liked y/n. What a glorious day it was to fall in love.

It was a day spent at the lake. The sun shining down, water splashing, a cool breeze. It was such a pretty day to spend with friends.

It happened when he saw y/n come out of the water like she was some sort of model in a magazine. Her hair sticking to her neck and shoulders in the most beautiful way. Skin glistening with small droplets of salty water running down her body— begging to be licked up. Oh god Choso wanted to run his tongue all over her body, drinking in the sweat mixed with lake water.

Her bikini pressed so tight to her body that Choso could see every single crevice that graced y/ns person. Nipples hard and poking through, begging to be pinched and played with. Fuck— her pretty little slit outlined in her bottoms as she laid on her tummy, legs slightly spread, while she tanned.

God he fell in love… maybe a deranged version of love. One that was built mostly on physical attraction.. but it was still love. Chosos version of love.

He remembers when he tried to kiss her.. the first time. And that didn't go so well.

Y/n sort of just laughed it off and pushed him by his shoulders. And that hurt Chosos feelings. It fucking hurt a lot.

She saw him lean in, ready to be kissed and she pushed him away with nervous laughter. He was so sure she wanted him to kiss her! The signs were there! (There were no signs.) but in Chosos mind, she was giving him sign left and right.

Here let’s go down the list.

Y/n held Chosos hand when they crossed a busy road.

Y/n pushed hair out of his face when the wind got wild.

Y/n hugged him goodnight.

See! There were signs that she wanted him to kiss her.

Granted.. there are things she’s always done. But that night it was different. Her intentions were different, Choso was sure of it.

But again, he was wrong.

"Hey Nobara, can you come get me?" Y/n sniffled into her phone.

"Babe what's wrong?" Nobaras voice full of concern, thinking something bad must have happened.

"Riku never showed up"

Y/n felt so stupid, a hot guy from her class asked her on a date and she said yes! And it must have been a cruel prank or something since the guy never showed. Y/n was stood up, she waited for an hour trying to give the guy the benefit of the doubt, expecting it to be car issues of something.

"I'm on my way, hun"

"It's just embarrassing!" Y/n exclaimed pushing the tears off her cheeks.

"I know, but honestly he wasn't even cute! You can do so much better. Plus he wqs like a super shit sorcerer”

"Yeah I guess.. but like who? No one likes me!"

"Chos—"

"No not him." Y/n snapped at her friend, not to wanting to hear anything she had to say about Choso.

"Okay, I'm just saying. The guy likes you. And youre his best friend."

"I know, Nobara. But, I don't like him, he's just my best friend and that's it" y/n huffed out, she didn't know why everyone was parading Choso around so much, sure he’s a great person. Y/ns best friend and she loves him more than she loves anyone else, but it wasn't a love that could be molded into something it wasn't.

The next day at school y/n was bombarded as she was eating her lunch silently, waiting for the whole group to sit with her.

"Did you hear?" The pink haired one asked, slamming his fists on the lunch table making y/n jump.

"Hear what?" Y/n questioned once her heartbeat somewhat calmed down.

"That guy Riku is dead, the one you were supposed to go out with" Nobara chimed in following the group in suit, taking a seat next to y/n.

"D-dead?" Y/ns eyes were big, eyebrows raising making her forehead wrinkle. Her eyes date back and forth between her two friends.

"Hey guys what going on" Choso smiled as of his heart wasn't completely shattered just a few days ago. The guy had such a way of bringing a light to the room, his smile was one that movie stars wished they had. And no matter how down he was, the smile graced everyone's presence shortly after.

He didn't look at y/n as he sat down across from her, he wanted to save himself the embarrassment.

"Riku is dead" Yuji tells his older brother.

"Murdered actually" the little emo one called Megumi states matter of factly.

"Murdered?!" Y/n raised her voice, not caring who heard her. She’s too sick to her stomach care otherwise.

"Oh man, that's crazy. Do they know who did it?" Choso asks tapping his fingers on the table in a beat no one recognized.

"No, but apparently it was brutal.”

"A bloodbath! The guy got a last minute mission that he could handle on his own. But when he didn’t come back last night, Gojo went looking for him. Turns out the curse was still alive.. but that wasn’t what killed him. Dude was stabbed and beat to death”

"Guys, can you not? Y/n was supposed to go on a date with this kid" Nobara rubbed y/ns shoulder, trying to sooth her friend.

"Man what's up with you? Turning down guys left and right, but the one you say yes to dies" Choso squinted his eyes at y/n, hurt still clearly written all over them.

"What are you trying to say Kamo?" Y/n growled back at him, fist clenching so tightly, crescent moon indents are left on her palms.

"Nothing” Choso shrugs his shoulders.

"Whatever" Y/n dramatically flips her hair back, before standing up. Chair scraping the wooden flooring, grabbing her bag and patting down her skirt to make sure she was covered before stomping away.

"Drama queen" Choso murmured under his breath as he watched her walk away. Watching the saw of her hips as she moves so perfectly.

It had been days. Fucking days or torture. Y/n missed her best friend. Typically after a day the two would be back to normal. But it was different this time. This wasn’t a regular fight.

"Do you think we could talk after school? I miss you sweetheart" Choso leaned up against the locker next to y/ns. Y/n was shocked, she thought that she would have to go to him, but he cracked first.

"Of course Cho. I miss you too. I just want to put all of this behind us" y/n smiled, she wasn't weirded out by the pet name, this was something Choso had called her before he developed feelings.

"Good. Meet me at my room- actually just meet me by the steps, we can walk to the dorms together"

"Sure" she nodded at Chosos suggestion. Y/n couldn't sit still for the rest of the day, watching the clock like a hawk. Of course y/n missed him, it had been a long few days without him being such a constant.

When y/n met Choso outside, he stood with a smug smile on his lips, ready to take his princess home with him. He seemed so happy to see y/n. She shared that award winning smile she had with him and greeted him with a sweet hello. They didn't talk much during the short walk back, waiting to be seated in Chosos room where they could really talk face to face.

The talk went really well, they both were understanding of each other's sides of the story, sharing what their feelings were. Y/n completely understood and held Chosos feelings with so much care, but still set her boundaries with him. Telling him she just didn't like him like that and Choso seemed to understand. Claiming he would do his best to move on but he would be hurt for a while, that was just something y/n would have to be cautious about.

It was like they were back to normal, Choso teasing y/n constantly and y/n teasing him right back, their old friendship they had shared for over a year and a half was back on its feet.

Well… That was until y/n shared with her friend group that she had another date. Choso kept his cool for the time being, not showing his anguish to y/ns face. He seemed happy for her, but it was all a facade. On the inside, Chosos blood was boiling from the inside out, his hands clenching the sides of the table turning his knuckles white.

Why couldn't y/n just choose him?

Why not?

Why couldn't she just be in love with him the way he was with her?

Why can't he just brainwash her or something?

Why was it so fucking damn hard to get one person to fucking love you?!

Choso was ready to smash someone's head through a wall, maybe even y/ns at this point. Her blood would be so pretty covering his hands..

No.

No no that's wrong, he could never hurt y/n, that was so silly of him to even think that.

Just a silly little goose Choso is.

Once again, y/n was stood up. Calling Nobara to come pick her up.

Déjà vu. A broken record.

The same thing happened, y/n all dressed up ready to be wined and dined, and another potential suitor no where to be seen. Nobarawas consulting y/n once again, helping her cheer up and not cry over someone who didn't even care to show up.

But everything happens in patterns, doesn't it?

Would you be surprised if I told you the guy called Junpei (y/ns almost date) was found dead the next day by grounds keepers? Laid flat on his back behind some bushes.

Murdered.

Stab wounds all over. Throat slashed.

I don't think you would be surprised one bit actually.

History has repeated itself before, and it will again and again. And it did... Again and again. That leaves us with young jujutsu sorcerers murdered, killed in a brutal way.

Not even with and fucking magical powers! Flat out murdered with a weapon.

How interesting.. don’t you think?

Now shit just got weird.. and it will continue to get weirder. Trust me.

10pm on a Saturday night, most teens would be at a party or at the movies with thier friends, but y/n sat alone in her room. Watching a movie she had seen one too many times. Dumplings and ramen lazily eaten sat on the desk and a half drank bottle of beer along side of it. That's why Choso liked y/n.. she was just like him. No girly food or girly drinks, she was just like him.

A knock at the door catches y/ns attention, though she didn't get up the first time. Too lazy to even move, she wanted to be alone at the moment. Shit 4 guys she wanted to go on dates with died.. she didn't even want to leave her house for the next decade.

By the third knock y/n was annoyed, stomping over to the oak door and swinging it open with a force she didn't know she had.

But alas.. no one was there. Y/n rolled her eyes before slamming it shut with a grunt, annoyed that she even had to get up in the first place.

Right as y/n turned to walk away, another knocked, only louder.. rougher.

"For the love of God!" Y/n yelled out spinning around and opening the door she left unlocked to reveal.. no one.

Some slasher killer music would have started to play if this was a movie for sure. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, how did they get away from the door that quick? Probably some first years that didn’t go out playing some prank.

Against all her better judgement y/n did what she knew she shouldn't have done.

"Hello?” Y/n called poking her head outside the door, looking from the left to the right, she saw nothing but a dimly lit hall.

Whoever was ding dong ditching her surly was having a good laugh from wherever they are hiding. That's at least what y/n thought. So she left it alone, walking back inside and making sure the deadbolt was locked she made her way back to her bed.

Just as y/n hit play on her movie, another knock. This one was weird, slow and menacing almost. And that’s when she saw from under door, a shadow of a person standing there. Not moving. Y/n stomach fell, suddenly getting a weird feeling. This wasn’t right.

That’s when it hit her. This could be the person who has been killing students off.. here for her. Knowing she’s probably the only girl left on the girls dorm facility.

The knocking only began to get more aggressive as y/n looked for her phone. The door shaking and threatening to give way. As soon as y/n found her phone, she called the only person who would protect her with his life.

“Choso” y/n whispered in a panic as soon as he picked up.

“Y/n? Why are you whispering” Choso whispered back, assuming it was some sort of game.

“Choso! I need you to get here! There’s someone here.. I think they are going to hurt me”

“Be there in 5” the line went dead.

Two minutes later the pounding on the door stopped. A minute after that y/n heard the heavy footsteps of Choso running down the hallway, yelling her name.

"Choso!" Y/n ran to open the door, jumping into Chosos arms. Wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

"I got you baby, I got you" Choso pushed his way into the room, locking the door behind him.

Y/n fully broke down as choso carried her to the bed, crying into his neck at the thought of what could have happened if he didn't come save her. 

"Shh it's okay. I'm here" choso sat down, allowing y/n to stay in his lap as she cried in his hair, digging her face deeper into his neck when he adjusted his arms, scared he was going to let go.

"Don't let go" y/n hugged tighter, making choso smile from ear to ear.

"I'm won't" he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her jwad, rubbing her back up and down gently.

When y/n pulled back after a few minutes, she looked into Chosos chocolate eyes, they were so full of love and care. Holding on y/n as of she was the last person in the world, as if she hung the stars and the moon (in his eyes, she did).

"Cho" y/n whispered, her eyes flicking down to his lips. So overwhelmed with emotions she had no idea what to feel about the situation. Chosos hands digging into y/ns hips, holding her so tight.

"Y/n" the messy haired boy whispered back.

It was a decision y/n didnt know she made until her lips were on Chosos. Pressing a hard kiss to his lips, taking in the little sigh Cho gave when he realized what was happening—melting into the kiss. Their lips moved in a rhythm that was fast and heated, needy and desperate. It was so passionate and breathtaking, their hands moved quick while roaming each other's bodies.

"Cho" y/n pulled back quickly, once she realized what she was doing.

God, has choso always looked so pretty? His lips plump from the kiss, eye lids heavy, and hair messy from the sprint from the boys facility to here.

"Yes" Choso tried to lean back in to steal another kiss, he needed y/ns lips  back on his, he needed to feel her love that she didn't know she had.

"No no. I'm sorry" y/n leaned further away from her friend.

"Sorry? Don't be. I loved it" the boy chuckled, still trying to get another kiss.

"No Cho- I'm sorry.. I shouldn't have done that. It was a mist-"

"A mistake?!" Choso yelled, immediately understanding that y/n didn't kiss him for love, she kissed him on the heat of the moment.

"Cho- Im sorry. I don't know why I-"

"God shut up! You fucking use me like this and- and say you're sorry?! You know I'm in love with you y/n! You fucking know my heart belongs to you! You know I would do anything for you and you do this to me? You break my heart over and over" choso shoves y/n off, tossing her to the side so she lands on her bed. He stands up quickly running his hands down his jeans.

"Fuck you y/n. Jesus Christ! I hate you!" Choso yelles, his eyes tearing up in a way he didn't know. He didn't know he could be so angry he would start to cry. Tears stinging his eyes as he glares down at y/n, who is completely bewildered by his outburst.

"I've poured my heart out to you time and time again! You are a fucking cunt!"

"Cho-" y/n tried to get a word in, but Choso refused, so heated in the moment, his heart beating so quickly he thinks it may explode.

"Shut the fuck up! You are so manipulative! You fucking use everyone to get what you want, and that's it. You're a bad fucking person and I hate you. We aren't friends anymore." 

Y/n hasn't spoken to Choso in a week, he hasn't looked her way, he avoids her when she tries to talk to him. Choso was no longer y/ns best friend. He stuck to his angry words.

Well.. y/n was never awake when Choso looked at her.. she was never awake when he spoke to her.. she was never awake when he told her she would always be his best friend and that he could never hate her. That he would always love her, even if she didn’t love him.

Again, Choso was stalking around y/ns room I n the late hours of the night, climbing through her window, digging through her laundry hamper. Choso was brushing y/ns hair out of her face and snapping photos of y/ns sleeping body. He was so obsessed, borderline crazy obsessed with y/n. He loved her smile, the way she smelled, the way her skin looked so fucking soft and supple in the moonlight that shined down on her though the now open window.

He loved the way her panties smelled after she finished training. The way the soft lacy felt against his cock when he used them to get off. He loved the way they tasted when he shoved them in his mouth to suppress the moans he let out when he was getting off right next to y/n. He loved when she would let out soft whimpers when he kissed her thighs, he fucking loved every single bit of y/n.

Sure it wasn't the traditional way to love someone... But this way y/n couldn't turn him down.

On y/ns end, she was going absolutely crazy.

Fucking coocoo bonkers.

She missed Choso so fucking much (again she didn't know he was always around). She missed his smell and his presence, she missed his jokes and goofy laugh.

Y/n found her eyes drifting towards him in the school hallway, noticing how pretty his smile is, how good those beat up jeans he wore looked, how strong his arms are, the way he walked was hot.

Fuck had he always been so hot?

God his rings, those fucking fingers, his bracelets, his tattoos... Fuck Choso is so hot.

God, y/n was so stupid, how had she not noticed before? Had she always seen Choso like this and never realized? Y/n had so many questions.

She was also wondering where all her damn thongs were going.

"Fuck this shit" y/n threw herself out of bed, thinking about Choso for almost every second of the day was driving her up the wall. She had to see him, she had to confess some sort of attraction to him.

God— was she in love with him? How could she not be?

Y/n knew that Choso would be out with Yuji and wouldn't be back for another hour or so. Thanks to Yujis snap story.

So there she was, throwing on some shorts and a plain tank top. Running out the girls dorm building and down the sidewalk to the one that house the boys.

She needed to see him, her body felt on fire, butterflies in her tummy thinking about him, she needed to apologize to him and tell him how she feels.

Y/n couldn't stop thinking about the way his lips felt on hers, the moans he was letting out when he finally got to kiss her the way he always wanted. The way his hands roamed her body and how they felt, how his callouses scraped perfectly against her skin.

Fuck she needed to feel it again.

Walking down the hallways she stops at Chosos door. Truly debating whether or not she was going to go through with it. Standing on her tip toes she finds the extra key on the door frame. 

Making her way into Chosos room, she closes the door behind her and switches on the lamp. Looking at his knick knacks and posters hanging on the walls, her fingers trace over his dresser

Most of the drawers had always been empty since Chosos version of laundry is throwing everything in one big pile on the floor.

Y/ns gut told her to open the drawers and see what was inside, getting this overwhelming feeling of needing to look. So she did.

The first few were full of junk, pens, charging cords, random receipts.

But the last one... Oh fuck the last drawer down at the bottom was something y/n didn't think she would ever find in her life.

Y/n let out a gasp as her hands were shaking while going through the drawer. All the panties she had lost and all the bras she had lost were lazily thrown into the drawer. Choso must have had 20 pairs of garments in this drawer, some were well used at this point and some still pretty and fresh.

"Oh my god" a shaky breath came from y/n as she felt a piece of paper down at the bottom. Pulling it out almost made her pass out right then and there.

A photo.

A photo of y/n sleeping in her bed.

Then another… and another…and about 50 more.

All of y/n sleeping or changing in her bed room.

This thick bubbling feeling came from y/ns stomach and her face turned pale, she was gonna be sick. There were so many photos of her, so many panties, so many dirty things in this drawer that only a stalker would have.

Oh my god.

Choso was stalking y/n— but we already knew that. Only, y/n didn’t know.

It made sense to her, everything clicking in her brain, all the nights her window was open, all the times her panties went missing, all the times her drawers were open. Everything made so much sense.. it was Choso the whole time. Choso was fucking stalking y/n.

Choso was always there.

As y/n began to stand up, ready to make a mad dash for the door, she heard someone clear their throat. Slamming the drawer shut with a yelp, her heart jumping to her throat and her palms becoming sweaty.

"Choso" y/n was breathless, looking up at the dark haired man towering over her. Y/n scrambled to her feet, trying to decipher his emotions.

His face red as if he was embarrassed of what y/n just found, maybe even angry that she was snooping through his things.

Choso let out a deep breath as he fully crossed the threshold of his bedroom, his boots heavy on the wooden floors making a loud thump that made y/n flinch.

"Well you shouldn't have done that" choso half smiled with a head shake. His voice deep and gravely, showing no humor even though his face said otherwise.

It was all so fuzzy for y/n. It felt like she had been hit on the head or something, it was so foggy and blurry.

"There she is" y/n heard as her eyes opened slowly. The pounding in her head got worse from the bright lights she was under. Trying to move, y/n realized she couldn't, her legs and arms bound to a chair.

"You scared?" Chosos voice was deep, scary even. Y/n had never heard him speak in such a tone.

"Ch-Cho?" y/n groaned closing her eyes again, maybe it was just a dream.

That's what this had to be, if y/n tried hard enough she would wake up and be safely tucked in her pink bed.

"Open your eyes baby" Choso cooed, much softer this time around. His thick hands touching y/ns face, moving towards the bump on the side of her head, tsking softly as he did.

Truly Choso felt bad for slamming y/s head into the very dresser she was going through. But she had seen what he had done, he didn't know what else to do.

Choso carried her limp body to his car that he barely used, and shoved her in the back. He let out soft tears as he looked back and saw the blood dripping down her face, he never wanted to hurt y/n.

Remember when I said shit would continue to get weirder.. you believed me right?

I wanna ask you something" choso smiled sweetly even though y/ns eyes were closed.

"I don't have all day y/n, open your fucking eyes!" Chosos voice booming in the small metal shack he brought y/n to.

"There we go, see? I'm much nicer when you listen to me" Choso praised y/n, even though her eyes fluttered closed every few seconds due to the painful light in her eyes.

"What are you doing Cho?" Y/n groaned trying hard to keep her eyes open.

"I just wanna ask you some questions" Choso sunk down to his knees in front of y/n, letting his hands touch her thighs softly.

"Why couldn't you just go out with me?" Y/n didn't answer, staring down at who she thought was her best friend.

"Talk to me princess, I don't want to make this hard for you" y/n still didn't answer, she was in state of shock, here she was bound and unable to move, her head was hurting like a bitch, and Choso was acting as of there was nothing wrong with this scene.

"I don't want to hurt you" Choso pulled a sharp knife out of what seemed like no where, pressing the blade to y/ns thigh. A trickle of blood came from where he dug it in making y/n yell out in pain.

"That feel okay?" Choso asked taking the knife to y/ns other thigh, digging the point of it into her meat. “So pretty”

"Choso stop!" Y/n yelled, her body shaking wishing to be freed from the rope.

"Answer the fucking question!" Choso yelled pointing the blade of the knife at y/n throat. Tears spilled from y/ns eyes as she cried for help, for the old Choso to come in and rescue her.

"I'll go out with you choso! I love you! I was scared that's it!" Y/n told the man, hoping that would be enough to satisfy him.

"Don't try to lie your way out of this"

"It's the truth! I've always loved you Cho! I was scared we would break up and I'd never have you in my life again"

"Now I know that's not true, pretty" traced knife down the column of her throat, not hard enough to slice her skin, just enough to scare her.

"It is, but you can have me now Cho. I want you, please don't hurt me.  I love you." Y/n choked on her tears as she spoke, bubble of spit sticking to her lips as she sobbed for him to believe her.

“That was good! You almost got me” Chosos laugh vibrates in the air around them both. “You should get an Oscar or an Emmy or whatever for that”

“Cho! Please listen. I was going to your room to tell you I made a mistake. That I- I love you”

"I'm sorry I have to do this, baby.. I love you so much y/n" Chosos eyes filled with tears as he shamefully looked away from y/ns red face. Part of him believed her, why else would she have been in his room? Something inside him flipped, seeing his baby cry for him like this hurt. Choso really let himself cry, thinking about his options here. His sobs were soft, really debating if he could actually harm y/n in more than just a little bump on her head.

"Choso you don't have to do this, I love you. Please don't do this" y/n tried to work some sense into his brain. “Ple-please.. I won’t say anything. We- we can go back to your room and lay down and be together” y/n begged him, her voice hoarse and shaking.

"I love you Cho- look at me please" y/n needed to see his pretty eyes. She needed to see them and then maybe he would see the love she has for him on hers.

"I'm sorry, princess. But if I can't have you.. no one else can" choso pressed the knife back into y/ns throat, wishing it didn't have to be this way.

"I lov- I love you" y/ns body shook violently as she tried to avoided the blade against her skin.

"I love you more"

Choso cried and cried at y/n funeral. Friends hugging and supporting one another during these dark times. No one understood. No one understood what happened to her.

None of the teachers or higher up’s understood what went wrong. She had volunteered to take a last minute mission by herself, but choso tagged along— according to Chosos side of the story. And according to Choso, he showed up too late. Y/n was completely obliterated by the curse that was stronger than what they had thought.

What they will never know Choso was the one who emailed Gojo as y/n to take the mission alone. Creating the facade that she would be gone for a few days. They will never know what really happened.

And what they also won’t know was that Choso still had a little secret, sure there was him getting away with murdering a few teens.. making sure to not use his technique so he wouldn’t be found out… but another one.

Another one that may come as a shock.

"Honey I'm home" Choso beamed as he walked into the home he purchased a few months ago. Not even his baby brother knew about this house.

"Choso!" y/n cried from behind a locked door

Fumbling with the many locks, the tall man finally got the door open to reveal the love of his life.

"Shh baby, calm down. Im here" Choso grinned, sitting down next to y/n on the small bed.

"Ch-Cho let me go please" y/n croaked, her throat so dry from all the screaming and crying. "Don't hurt me please cho. I love you I love you I love you" y/n sobs, confessing her love for him, as she has been doing for months now.

"I know you do princess. I know."

"Don't hurt me please" y/n flinches back as choso reached out to brush y/ns hair behind her ear.

"Why would I hurt you, baby? I would never. I love you, y/n. But you have to stay here now, where we can live together.. and be happy" Choso explains calmly, watching as y/ns tears dropped down onto the pillow she was resting on.

"Ch-choso please I love you! Le-t let me— please let me go"

"I can't. You'll be happy here. You'll be happy as my little pet forever."

"I love you choso" y/n cries, her sobs reaching every corner of the small house that was in the middle of the woods. Somewhere no one would find.

"I love you too baby" choso press a kiss to y/ns chapped lips.

"But you're mine to keep now"

Chains clanking together all day and all night long, the sound of metal became annoying to choso every second he was there to take care of y/n. The sound of her trying to free herself on a panic every day hurt him.

The metal rubbing down on y/ns wrists and ankles as she struggled every single day. Wanting to be free, begging Choso every day to let her go, to let her be free from him, to not be his to keep. Y/ns screaming throughout the nights were never heard, her pleas for help would never be heard, her cried would stay with her as no one would ever hear her.

She begged and begged for Choso to at least let her out of the chains, which he protested to. One day Choso would let her out of them, but not until he knew she wouldn't try to leave, not until he knew she would stay with him.

So y/n was meant to lay there for months and months, until she will inevitably break. Break so deeply all she will know is Choso Kamo. He will be the only thing she will know and remember.

Choso thought for way to long about this moment, having y/n forever.

And now, y/n was Chosos to keep.

This is more like what I normally write.. and I get a lot crazier than thins :)

Sharing is caring!

Thank you for reading and pls pls pls tell me what else you want to read and oll do my best to pump them out :)

Kisses 💋

Taglist: @vellichor01 @loveyislost @koreluvsspring @ersharyzst @namjooningera @mvrte-blog1 @gradmacoco @emlient

[kesadoll]

♡ CWS MDNI 3.3k ♡ black!femreader, ex-athlete/mechanic!nanami little bit of an age gap {r: 19~20 || n: 25}, fondling, oral {f}, overstimulation, missionary, unprotected but his pull-out game strong, he’s a disrespectful gentleman & such a pleasure dom ♡, {petnames: baby, good girl, darlin' || she calls him ♡ kento/‘ento ♡}

♡ sum. geto's gone ghost, & your car needs some fixing up so you can start racing.... pt.1 ♡

kesa's note idk i need that BAD i think you can def read this without reading pt.1, but still go give it some love! thts where a lot of context is, but if u just here for daddymi I don't blame u babe♡ also here's what i imagine nanami with his lil accent sounding like asks & reblogs always welcome!

it had been a couple of months since you and geto had your little night together. just like you hoped it wouldn’t, it definitely turned out to be a one time thing. yuji and geto had a falling out over him finding out geto had been hanging out around sukuna, and that was that. no text message, no calls, not even a “let me show up at your house cause i see your brother’s car is gone.” you felt used and embarrassed to say the least, but the only person who knew anything of it was nobara, who told you there had to be a reason why, though she didnt think it was right herself. you tried not to think too much of it, still going with your brother to races, occasionally seeing geto who always tried to avoid eye contact with you. bitch.

it was a regular friday for you: wake up, go to class, go to your nail appointment if you had one (you did, opting for pink medium-length square nails), go to your hair appointment also if you needed it (this time you just got a wash and trim, letting your hair breathe), and running some other errands that depended on how much money you had in your pocket for that month. you wore your usual outfit for these types of days, a grey 2-piece set with a pink shirt underneath.

yuji, got you an early birthday present about a week back, and it was a car! now whether or not he did it to flex on geto and sukuna, you didn't know, but you were forever grateful regardless. the car was white and sleek on the outside, the inside pretty much being all back. the car coincidentally was a sports car as well, nobara pushing you to race with her even more. since you decided to promise her you’d race next weekend, you figured you should probably take the car to nanami so he can dope up your car like he’s done with pretty much everyone in your friend group.

you finally pulled into the driveway of nanami’s shop, watching as he began pulling a loop of chains that made the large garage door open. he kept them open until you pulled in, closing it once you were lined up with the car lift.

“nanamiii~” you said as you got out of the car, blinking a couple of times when he turned on the bright fluorescent lights. you watched intently as nanami looked over your car, making sure the tires were buckled before he elevated it enough so he could look under the hood of your car, no problem.

“hey miss y/n,” he spoke quite calmly, his sleepy southern drawl pulling at your heartstrings. this only highlighted the bags that you could see under his eyes, making you frown once you saw he still had a little bit of a limp from his old injury. 

nanami used to be a pretty damn good baseball player. from the ripe age of seven, he’d always had a passion for it. he got so good that by his sophomore and junior years of high school, he had colleges lining up waiting for him to commit to one of them. nanami had initially gone out of state to his home college down south, but during the last game of the season (which so happened to be a championship game), he tore his ACL and MCL, essentially meaning that he’d never run like he used to ever again. it was heartbreaking for everyone; even the enemy team felt bad for him, but it was even worse for nanami himself, vowing to never touch a baseball (or bat) ever again. 

he kept that promise, busying himself working on cars day and night. if he wasn’t working, he’d be at a bar, drinking and watching the games they’d throw up on the tv there. you knew how much it affected him, even 3 years later. “kento, if you’re hurting, i can reschedule; you know we’re all still worried about you.” you said gently as if to not set off a bomb. 

nanami shook his head, offering you the happiest-looking smile that he could muster, which really wasn't much. “i’m okay, y’know that y/n.” he unzipped his coveralls, letting them hang around his waist. you knew he liked to work like this, but it took your breath every time you saw him like this; his white wife beater perfectly hugged his soft muscles, his little silver chain with a baseball bat pendant decorating his broad chest, tattoos sprinkled across his body. 

“mhmm..well you let me know when you’re under the hood, m’kay? i wanna learn a thing or two so you can rest sometime,” you said as you turned, waving off his protests as you went into his office, sitting behind a desk with papers all over them.

you busied yourself scrolling on your phone, not realizing how much time passed until nanami walked in. “y’okay? i called for ya a lil’ while ago,” 

“oh! i’m sorry i got distracted.” you sat your phone down and got up, making your way outside.

“you still don’t have t’help, if i was really hurt you’d know.” he tried reassuring you again, following behind you and fixing his black gloves.

“mhmm, sure.” 

nanami led you over to the front of your car, popping the hood open and propping it up. he had you standing off to the side, handing him tools or dragging a box of parts over (of course he wouldn’t ask you if it was heavy, opting to go get it himself). he didn’t let you do much of the touching on the inside, especially not when you had your pretty nails and clothes on, the southern hospitality in him wasn’t going to let a pretty girl like you dirty yourself doing a man’s work. he already felt a certain kind of guilt watching you walk away from him, especially with how good your hips and ass looked in those pants of yours.

the two of you talked about plenty of things, though it was mostly nanami just listening to you go on and on about things he never thought would concern him before. shockingly, you even got him to open up about his little hometown that, from your understanding, was in the middle of nowhere. nothing was left undiscussed, even the situation with geto though you didn’t go into too much detail out of your own embarrassment. nanami seemed particularly disgruntled after you told him what geto did, so you thought changing the subject would be for the better.

despite not letting you do much of anything, he still made you feel like you were important. he explained to you what certain parts did and why he was modifying them for racing, and you tried to listen, you really did, but some too many thingamabobs and doohickeys did a lot of things for you to even remember their names. the only thing you really could focus on was that sweet accent of his, and the way his biceps flexed no matter what he did. you noticed the sweat in nanami’s hair, the way it made his buff arms shine, his wife-beater sticking to his body. “wanna take a break?” you asked sweetly, not wanting him to overwork himself, especially for your own sake.

“hm?” he looked up, resting his forearms on the car. “yeah, let me finish tightenin’ this n’ i’ll come sit down.”

you hummed, going back into the office, and washing your hands in the little kitchen area before grabbing yourself a water, nanami came in and took his work gloves off so he could wash his hands as well. he dried his hands on a white towel he had laying on one of the counters.

“here,” you gave nanami the water you had in your hand, making sure he had taken a sip before you bent back down in the fridge to grab another. what nanami didn't account for were your pants being kinda low waisted, so when you bent over he got a VIEWW of your lower back including those back dermals you’d gotten not too long ago.

he shook his head at those nasty thoughts that ran through his head, leaning against the counter with the water bottle already half empty by the time you turned around. “you uh, finally gon’ race?”

you nodded, tilting your head up at him, “mmm, yeah. i promised nobara i’d go to the next one, but i still don’t know. i just don’t wanna see geto you know?”

“if he shows up, he shows up. you have a bunch of people around you who want to see you race, not him.” he tossed the towel over his shower, taking another couple of chugs of his water. he closed his eyes, his pretty blonde lashes twitching ever so slightly with every swallow. 

“yeah?..” he was beautifully exhausted if it wasn’t already clear before. his sharp jaw was complemented by a growing 5’oclock shadow, something about it ignited something in you. who knew a sweaty, hardworking man would have you gawking like this, and reasonably so.

“always. all of us are excited for you, not just nobara,” he finally pulled his lips from his water bottle, his eyes now trained onto you. he caught you staring at him most definitely, a certain kind of smirk pulling at his lips that made your stomach flutter, “you can’t go lookin’ at me like that.”

“what? am i not supposed to look at someone when they’re talking to me?” you rolled your eyes playfully, looking away as to hide your smile, though it didn’t do much. 

“no no no, that’s not what that was and you know it.” nanami’s laugh was low, his large hand finding solace on your waist. “look at me.”

you shifted your weight subconsciously to minimize his touch, not because you didn’t like it, but the warmth of his hands sent sparks through your body. you crossed your arms to try and put on a tough front, lifting your eyes to meet his, “hm?”

he looked at you through low lids, those hazel eyes of his twinkling ever so slightly between his lashes. he just took a good look at you, jaw clenching while his eyes flipped between each one of yours then down at your lips..he licked his bottom lip to bring himself out of whatever trance your face put him in, “you’re jus’ really pretty n’ i can tell you got all done up before you got here, i jus’ d’know if i can keep bein’ a gentleman with you lookin’ at me like that.” 

you leaned just the teeniest bit closer to him. the way his pretty teeth shined, his canine so sharp you wondered how it felt against your neck. “well maybe that’s just what i need.” 

“y’not ready for that,” nanami’s eyebrow raised, thinking. he slowly stepped back from you then made his way around the room closing every blind and locking every door as you watched. once done, he stood back in front of you, those butterflies in your stomach stirring, “n’ i can prove it.”

 “so prove it.”

nanami’s lips met yours with haste. he lifted you like it was nothing, all of those years with baseball and cars not going to waste (bars?). whatever was on the counter he knocked off before his hands moved from your ass to your thighs, wrapping them around him. 

the way he kissed you was akin to a starving animal getting its first meal in a while, but his lips were so soft, he tasted so good, and the way his tongue twirled against yours?? it was something you’d experienced before, but not this good. you brought your hand up to his golden locks, one of his hands placed at your lower back to pull you closer to him. it wasn’t until he brought his other hand up to the back of your neck that you moaned, his lips pulling from yours with that smile of his, kissing down your neck. “so it’s here..” he said in between kisses. 

“kento..” your head fell right on back, giving him the answer he already knew. his lips and tongue twirled and danced against your flesh, the squeezing of your thighs around his waist only confirming his suspicions even more. 

he hummed in response to you, looking up once he finally pulled his mouth away, unzipping your jacket, “i hear you,” he pushed up your shirt over your breasts, revealing the cute white bra you had on underneath. the way you were already splayed out beneath him, pretty brown skin and shy eyes looking away from nanami’s. “you’re jus’ too pretty baby.”

nanami leaned back down and began kissing you again, this time those large hands of his toying with your breasts, hands sliding underneath your bra to toy with your nipples, the noise you made only fueling that ego of his that bubbled in his chest knowing he had you going crazy already. you couldn’t help yourself anymore, your hips grinding forward into him. 

“you need me that bad, darlin’?” he said against your lips, and you helplessly nodded in response. he licked at your bottom lip, moving his hands from your chest down to your bottoms and pulling them down and off with a quick yank. the cold of the counter made you hiss, but you were quickly distracted feeling lips press right above the waistband of your matching panties, “m’gonna fix it for you, jus’ be a good girl n’ relax for me.”

you did your damned hardest, but with the way he pushed your panties to the side and buried his face between your legs, it was hard. with his nose pushed up against your mound his tongue explored every inch of your cunt, lapping up any of your arousal that dared to grace his tongue. he said no words, only humming when you had a good grip on his hair, which he absolutely loved. the way you writhed against his tongue, especially when he sucked your clit up in his mouth, causing you to arch your back so deep you had to hold onto the counter, had nanami feeling full of himself. 

his lil ego was only boosted further when your moans drew out into a long whine when nanami began to tongue fuck you. “kento-!!! ohhhh my godd!~” your entire body tensed up as you came, but nanami never stopped. if anything it only made him keep going besides your babbling pleas for him to slow down, especially when his tongue curled. your next orgasm came just as quick as the last, this one causing tears to bead up at your lashline, thighs almost snapping closed around nanami’s head.

his hands had a firm grip on each of your thighs, making sure you didn’t crush him while you rode out your last orgasm on his tongue. once he pulled away you could finally relax, your breaths heavy, whimpers dripping in ecstasy. “m’sorry baby, she jus’ taste too good.” nanami’s eyes lingered on your pussy for just a moment, admiring how much it was twitching and how wet you were and it was all because of him. “c’mere.”

he got up off the floor, off his knees mind you, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you back into another kiss. tasting both you and him off his tongue was something so nasty, but you loved it. “i need you.” you reached your hands under that wife beater of his, nails dragging down his chest and stomach. you could feel how nanami’s stomach tightened, followed by him untying his coveralls from his waist, and pulling his basketball shorts and boxers down simultaneously.

“yeah?” your words lit an already big fire inside nanami. you heard little lewd squelching noises as he rubbed his tip against your entrance, your brows furrowing once you felt his tip push inside you. “y’gonna take all this dick, baby?” he said with his face just inches away, watching your brain scramble to find words from you feeling so full off that spongey head of his.

when it took you a little too long for you to respond for his liking, putting a hand around your neck. he didn’t squeeze just yet, but he slid in some more, watching the way that your face contorted, your mouth helplessly falling open. “i asked you- fuck. i asked you a question darlin’..n’ you better answer or else i’m pullin’ right back out.”

“y-yes! m’gonna take it kentoimsorryplease-” you blurted out, mustering all the brainpower you had left just so he wouldn’t pull back out of you. it didn’t matter anyway because you felt how that man twitched inside you at your words, pushing himself in a slow, fluid motion just until your hips met. he had your legs thrown over his shoulders already…he was NOT playing around. 

“good fuckin’ girl..’ he cooed at you through gritted teeth. nanami waited until your body relaxed, at least the best that it could, his hips rolling with every slow thrust. you were choking on moans, only able to get out gasps while nanami rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumbs, to calm you before both hands were placed on your hips. he pulled you down onto him with every thrust and it drove you crazy. he was stretching you in ways you’d never been stretched, his dick reaching places so far back you thought he was in the base of your lungs.

those sweet moans you let out only drove him mad. nanami picked up the pace quite seamlessly, his eyes never leaving your face as yours closed. he was fucking you sooo good words weren’t an option for you, nor were they even a thought. the most you could do was let your pathetic moans fill the room as nanami threw praises at you left and right, loving the way your cunt squeeze around him and suck him up at every word. 

“haaah- gonna cum soo~”

you couldn’t even get that last word out. nanami was plowing into you at this point, a hand reaching down to rub circles into your clit. to say you were fucked out was an understatement. your eyes were now unfocused, mouth stayed open to make way for those slutty moans you were letting out. though your vision was blurred, and the only thing you could make out was nanami’s chain that danced with each thrust, you knew he was right there with you.

“cum f- shit- cum for me baby, please.”

something about that saying please, practically begging you with the way he repeated it under his breath multiple times afterward, pushed you over the edge quicker than the both of you expected, your cunt clamping down on nanami’s dick and causing his hips to stutter. he kept his thrusts going, helping you ride out your orgasm before he had to pull out quickly, finishing on your stomach and chest. 

“fuck-” he groaned, his hip bucking wildly while he fucked himself into his hand, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

“some gentleman you are,” you couldn’t help but giggle as you reached your arms up and wrapped them around him. 

“yeah,” he huffed against your neck and relaxed in your embrace. After some time he finally sat back up, pulling his pants back up before he grabbed that towel from earlier and wet it with some warm water to clean you up. “i know this s’ backward, but i’d like to take you to dinner t’morrow.”

“oh?” you tried to keep your laugh in, knowing it was tearing the poor man up inside. “of course! and i expect you to be on time, mister.”

“i’d never keep you waitin’, ever.”

orignal works by me ♡ reblogs welcome, do not steal/recreate..

exhusband!reiner next

[sugarplum217]

Essence Of Loyalty (Pt.1)

Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black Plus Size Female Reader

Warnings: MDNI (18+) contains sexual explicit content, heavy smut, spit play, oral sex, A VERY HEAVY USE OF “daddy” and “mama”, unprotected sex, cursing, major dirty talk, creampie, mentions of murder, lots of heavy sexual flirtation, detailed sexual acts , fluff

AuthorsNote: Please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors. I hope you enjoy the story and remember to be kind and if you want to be tagged in the next part let me know.

Summary: Everyone and their mama has been trying to either set you up on a date with someone or continuously remind you that your clock is ticking away. That you weren’t getting any younger and your looks would eventually fade. What they didn’t know is that you already had your special someone. In fact you’ve had him a while. You know how that saying goes, “Good things come to those who wait” and for you in this instance. It was nothing but the waiting game for your special someone to finally walk into your life. The question is .. would it be acceptable for everyone else?

You never expected to fall in love with a man behind bars. It started as nothing more than a random click—some late-night curiosity fueled by boredom and an ad that popped up between Facebook posts. Find love where you least expect it. Meet single men looking for companionship. You damn near scrolled past it, but something made you stop. Maybe it was the way the words “love” and “companionship” stood out, teasing something you didn’t realize you were craving. Maybe it was just the boredom, the same mundane routine of work, home, sleep, repeat, stretching on like a treadmill you couldn’t step off. Either way, you clicked. Scrolling through the profiles felt like flipping through a catalog you had no business browsing. Men of all ages and backgrounds, some looking for friendship, others for love. But none of them caught your attention. That is—until you saw him. Inmate 07541, Terrance Richmond. Baby, that mugshot stopped you cold. Rich buttery light caramel skin, sharp jawline, and full lips that looked like they could whisper secrets straight into your soul. His nose was strong, his features chiseled, but it was those damn piercing uniquely colored eyes that did it. Deep-set, hooded, with a stare so intense you could feel it through the screen. Something about them made your heart stutter—like he was looking at you, past you, into you. There was no forced smile, no tough-guy posturing. Just that stare. You hesitated, hovering over the message button. What the hell were you doing? Messaging a man serving time? A man who, according to his bio, had been locked up since he was 18? Still, curiosity won. You typed out a casual introduction—something light, something safe—and hit send. Then you pushed it to the back of your mind, fully expecting no response, but he wrote back. And not just some half-assed, one-line reply. He wrote you back.

That first message turned into another. And another. Emails became long letters, paragraphs bleeding into pages, until you found yourself rushing home from work just to see his name in your inbox. You learned everything about him—the way he used to play football before his life changed, the music he listened to, the books he read to escape the four walls of his cell. He told you about his past, the pain, the betrayal, the night everything changed. And you told him about yours—how life felt like it was happening at you instead of for you. How you wanted more, but you didn’t know what more even looked like. Then came the sweet video calls. The first time you saw him move, saw that sharp jaw flex when he smiled, heard that deep, velvety voice rumble straight through the screen—you were done. Hooked. Gone. Two years later, here you were. In a relationship—a real one, even if nobody knew. And in a few days, he’d be free. And that? That scared you more than anything.

“You always got an excuse, girl. What is tea?”Sonya’s voice snapped you back to the present, and you blinked, realizing your fork had been hovering over your plate for way too long. It was lunchtime at Taste Of The South Cafe, your usual Friday spot with the girls. The table was cluttered with half-empty margarita glasses, plates of fried catfish and mac and cheese, and the scent of honey butter croissants floating in the air. Normally, this was your escape from the monotony of work. But today? You were ready to go.

“I just wanna relax,” You half way lied, pushing your food around. Sonya wasn’t buying it. Neither was Deja.

“Girl, please,” Deja scoffed. “Every time we plan a girls’ night, your ass come up with something. What’s up? You sneakin’ around with somebody?”

“Ain’t nobody sneakin’.” You forced a laugh, shaking your head. 

“Then why you always rushin’ home like you got a man waitin’ on you?” Sonya arched a brow, swirling her margarita.

“Because I do.” You thought to yourself. But you didn’t say that. Instead, you shrugged, hoping they’d let it go. They didn’t.

“You sure it ain’t that new dude in accounting?” Deja pressed. “The one with the Audi and the beard? Girl, he is fine.”

“Not my type,” You said quickly.

Sonya snorted. “And what is your type? Because last time I checked, you were single as hell.”

You just smiled, keeping your real thoughts locked up tight. Because your type wasn’t something you could explain to them. Your type wasn’t sitting in an office, making six figures, and posting gym selfies on Instagram. Your type was locked behind bars. A man who had spent more of his life inside than out. A man whose voice alone made your thighs clench, whose absence felt like a missing limb. But they wouldn’t get that. So you just laughed it off, switched the subject, and counted down the hours until you could talk to him. The day dragged. By the time you made it to your car, your feet were aching, your patience was shot, and you were tired. But none of that mattered. Because in just a few minutes, he’d be calling. The drive home was full of bumper-to-bumper traffic and the usual call from your mama.

“Hey ma” You greeted, honking the car in front of you to move their ass. 

“Hey my baby. You comin’ to dinner this weekend?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You make a face, thanking god she can’t see you.

“Good. Your sister’s bringing her fiancé.” She said, her tone laced with excitement. Of course, she was. Your older sister had the picture-perfect life—a man, a ring, a timeline that fit neatly into the family’s expectations.

“And he’s bringing his brother,” You mother added casually.

You sighed. “Ma—”

“Just be open-minded! You’re a beautiful girl, and you ain’t gettin’ any younger.” She reminded for the hundredth time. You gritted your teeth, gripping the steering wheel. If only she knew. But you decided to let it go. 

“I’ll see you Saturday.” You shook your head, hanging up.By the time you got home, it was 6:59pm. You barely had time to drop your purse before your phone lit up with that Incoming Call from your ‘Big Daddy’. You squealed, feeling your heart flip. 

You snatched it up, answering with a smile. “Hey, baby.”

“Damn, I needed to hear your voice.” A low chuckle rumbled through the speaker, deep enough to send heat pooling between your thighs. 

You melted instantly. “Long day?”

“Long as hell,” He sighed. “But I knew I’d be hearin’ from you, so I got through it.”

Your chest tightened. “I missed you.”

“Yeah? I missed you more baby” He smirked. You could hear it in his voice. “Tell me about your day, baby.”

So you did. You told him everything—lunch with your nosy-ass friends, your mama trying to set you up. And he listened quietly like always when it came to your day and what crazy ass story you had ready for him. That was one of the many things you loved about Terry, how he could just listen and never get tired of you talking. 

“Don’t sweat that shit, baby. You got a man.” He chuckled, low and smooth. That possessiveness made your toes curl.

“Yeah?” you teased. “I got a man?”

“Hell yeah,” He murmured. “And in a few days, you gon’ have me in every way possible.”

Your breath hitched and your body got hot. Because in just a few days, Terry Richmond would be free. And you would finally be his.  You adjusted the phone against your ear, stretching out on the couch, letting his voice roll over you like thick honey.

“You talkin’ real reckless, Mr. Terrance,” you teased, biting your lip. “What makes you think you gettin’ all this good good so easy?”

A deep, knowing chuckle rumbled through the receiver, sending shivers down your spine. “Baby,” He drawled, voice rich and slow like he was savoring every syllable. “Don’t play wit’ me. You and I both know the second I touch down, I’ma have you laid out for me, just how I like it.”

“Oh yeah?” Your thighs pressed together at the promise in his tone.

“Hell yeah. First thing I’m doin’ is spreadin’ them thighs, makin’ up for lost time. You know I been starvin’ for you. Ain’t had a taste of sweet pussy in years. I need my plate, ma.” He stated, making your breath hitch and heat coil in your lower belly. 

“Terry…” You breathed, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Say my name just like that when I’m between them legs,” He murmured. “Matter fact, scream it. I’ma put my mouth on every inch of you. Them thighs? Mine. Them hips? Mine. That spot you say makes you weak right under your belly button? I’m kissin’ it first. And you already know where I’m endin’ up.”

Your body responded to his words instantly, your nipples tightening against the fabric of your blouse. The ache between your thighs grew unbearable. You were so tempted to rub on your clit as he talked to you, but you knew big daddy’s rules. You weren’t allowed to touch yourself at all unless he gave the permission and could listen to you without any interruptions. 

“You talkin’ crazy,” You whispered, your voice thick with need.

“Nah, baby, I’m talkin’ facts. You gon’ see. Soon as I get out, you ain’t leavin’ that bed for at least three days.” He chuckled. 

“Oh, so I’m just gonna be held hostage?” You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers toying with the hem of your skirt.

“Damn right,” He said without hesitation. “Ain’t no way I been locked up this long just to finally get my hands on you and let you go. Shit, you gon’ be beggin’ me to let you breathe.”

Your stomach flipped. You wanted that. Needed that. But then, reality settled back in. The system didn’t make things easy.

“Speaking of that…What did your lawyer say about your release date? Will you be out on my birthday like we want?” You exhaled, shifting the phone closer to your ear. It was silence for a moment. The weight of it pressed heavy between you, thick and uncertain. You held your breath preparing for the worst case scenario possible. 

“They still pushin’ for my original release date, but you know how this shit go. Paperwork, red tape, all that. My lawyer confident, though. He say if everything lines up, I should be out right on time. Maybe even a couple days before.” Terry let out a slow breath.

“For real?” Your chest tightened with cautious hope. 

“For real, baby. But…” He hesitated. “You know they been tryin’ to trip me up in here. COs, some of these jealous-ass inmates. They know I’m close to freedom, and they hate that shit. I gotta keep my head low, stay out the way, but it’s hard sometimes. Real hard.”

“They still on that bullshit?” Your jaw clenched.

“Yeah,” He muttered. “They hate a nigga like me gettin’ a second chance. And these lame ass inmates tryna set me up don’t help either.”

“Terry, I swear to God if they—”You closed your eyes, frustration bubbling inside you.

“Relax, mama,” He said, voice dropping into that deep, soothing register that always made you weak. “Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me from comin’ home to you. I promise you that. I done made it through too much to let these motherfuckers take my freedom again.”

“Baby, please promise me you won’t do nothin’ to mess this up. I need you here. I need you home.” You frowned, Terry remained silent allowing you to vent because he knew this was becoming harder everyday for you to cope with. You swallowed hard, throat tight.

“I just…” You hesitated, then admitted softly, “I just need you here. I don’t want anything messin’ this up. My 28th birthday… Terry, all I want is you.”

“I know, ma. Trust me, I know.” His voice softened, turning serious. “You the only thing keepin’ me sane in here. The only thing keepin’ me goin’. I promise you, I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ get in the way of me comin’ home to you.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I trust you.” You inhaled deeply, letting his words settle over you. 

“You got me for life baby,” He said assuring you, voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you, baby. If I gotta fight every damn day until that judge signs my release, I’ma do it. ‘Cause you worth it. We worth it.”

“You better mean that,” You whispered. Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away.

“I do. And when I’m finally out, when I got you in my arms, I’ma make sure you never question that again.”

“I love you so much.” You exhaled shakily.

“I love you more, baby.” He bit his lip, feeling his heart speed up. 

“You swear you gonna come home to me, Terry?” You exhaled, stretching your legs out on the couch, your free hand absently trailing over your bare thigh. 

“Baby, listen to me.” His voice came through the receiver, deep and unwavering. “I need you to hear me when I say this. Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me from comin’ home to you. I done wasted enough years locked up, dreamin’ about what it feel like to be free, to wake up next to a woman who actually give a damn about me. I ain’t lettin’ no CO, no hating-ass inmate, no system take that from me.”

You closed your eyes, soaking in his words. A small tear escaped your eyes as you just let him talk and calm all of your fears. 

“And you really think I’m about to let you be out here spendin’ another birthday without me? Nah, ma. That ain’t happenin’.” He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Matter fact, you should start gettin’ ready now, ‘cause soon as I step through that door, I’m givin’ you somethin’ to celebrate.”

“Oh yeah? What you givin’ me, Terry?” A slow smile spread across your lips. 

“Ain’t it obvious? My last name, first of all.” He stated matter of factly. 

“Boy, stop playin’.” Your breath caught in your throat.

“Who playin’?” He challenged. “You really think I been doin’ all this talkin’, dreamin’ about you, makin’ plans, just to be out here on some casual shit? Nah, baby. You my woman. And when I get home, I’m puttin’ a ring on that pretty lil’ finger. You ain’t gon’ be nobody else’s but mine.”

Heat spread through your chest, settling deep in your belly. He always had a way of making you feel claimed, but this? This was different. This felt all too real and that he was promising you the moon and the stars and would actually reach up in the damn sky and get it for you. 

“Terry…” You purred slightly. 

“Say it again,” He murmured, voice dropping to that low, dangerous octave that always did something to you. “Say my name just like that.”

“Terry.” Your lips parted, slowing your words down for him. 

“Mmm,” He groaned. “That’s what I wanna hear every morning, every night. That’s what I wanna hear when I’m makin’ love to you, when I’m in it so deep you forget how to say anything else.”

“You tryna kill me, huh?” You sucked in a breath, your thighs pressing together instinctively. 

“Nah, ma. Just tryna remind you who you belong to.” He smirked, licking his lips. 

You chewed your lip, heart pounding against your ribs. The thought of him finally being here, of feeling him, touching him, owning him in the flesh—it was almost too much.

“Terry…” You started, voice soft, hesitant.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He adjusted the phone on his ear, eyebrows furrowing. You hesitated a moment afraid to tell him what’s really been on your mind. Afraid he wouldn’t understand but truth was Terry was more than understanding when it came to you. 

“I just… I keep thinking about what’s gonna happen once you’re really here. Like, when it’s not just phone calls and emails. When it’s real. When it’s us.” You honestly confessed, sighing. You heard a brief pause making your stomach tighten out of angst. You held your breath afraid he’d be upset but after a few seconds, he then spoke gently. 

”That’s what you scared of?” He asked, voice soft. 

You swallowed. “Not scared, just… it’s gonna be different. You been inside since you were 18, Terry. That’s—” You did the math in your head, stomach twisting. “Seventeen years. That’s a long time.”

“I know,” He said simply. “You think I don’t know that? Every damn day, I been countin’ down to this moment. I know it’s gon’ be an adjustment. I ain’t naive to that, baby. But what I do know is that I want this. You. I ain’t spent two years fallin’ in love with you for nothin’. And I damn sure ain’t finna let somethin’ as small as a transition period shake me.”

You exhaled, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I just want you to be happy, Terry.”

“I am happy, ma. You make me happy.” He professed from his heart, making your heart squeeze and stomach flutter. 

“Now,” He continued, voice laced with that familiar hunger. “Can we get back to what I was sayin’? ‘Cause I still got a whole list of things I plan to do to you soon as I get out.”

“Oh yeah? Go ‘head then, baby. I’m listenin’.” Your stomach flipped.

Terry exhaled through the receiver, the sound slow and deliberate. “Aight, so… First thing I’m doin’ soon as I step through that door? I’m droppin’ my bag, pullin’ you close, and kissin’ you like I been starvin’ for it.”

“Mmmm.” You bit your lip, already picturing the scene.

“Ain’t gon’ be no soft, sweet shit neither. Nah,” He rumbled. “I’m talkin’ about deep, wet, tongue all in your mouth, my hands locked around that waist, pullin’ you so tight you feel my dick pressin’ up against you.”

“Damn, Big Daddy. Can I at least take my heels off first?” You let out a breathy laugh.

“Hell nah,” He said smoothly. “Matter fact, leave ‘em on. I want you just like that. Fresh off work, tight lil’ skirt ridin’ up, them pretty ass legs wrapped ‘round my waist while I pin you up against the door.”

“Oh shit..” Your entire body heated at the image. You had to fan yourself, and cross your legs to avoid any wetness seeping out. 

“You know how long I been dreamin’ about that, baby?” His voice dropped an octave, turning into something dark, possessive. “Seventeen years. Seventeen years I been locked in this hellhole, surrounded by nothin’ but concrete and steel, knowin’ I ain’t got a real woman to touch, to taste, to claim. And then you came along…”

“B-Baby..” A soft gasp slipped from your lips. You squeezed your thighs shut tighter, already soaking your panties. 

“And now all I can think about is how you gon’ feel underneath me. How soft your skin is. How good you smell. How sweet you taste.” He growled lowly in your ear. 

“Shit.” You cursed, shifting on the couch, thighs pressing together.

“Mmm,” He hummed knowingly. “You wet for me, ain’t you?”

“Terry—” You swallowed.

“Nah, don’t try to play it off now,” He interrupted. “I know you, ma. I know you sittin’ there, grippin’ that phone tight, breathin’ all heavy, body heatin’ up just listenin’ to me talk. I don’t even need to be there to know how bad you want me.”

“You lucky you locked up.” You let out a shaky breath, tilting your head back against the couch. 

“Lucky? Nah, baby. Unlucky. ‘Cause if I was home right now, I’d have you laid out, ass up, back arched, moanin’ my name so loud the neighbors call the cops.”He chuckled, voice dripping with amusement.

“Boy, stop!” You laughed, shaking your head. “You talk all that shit, I hope you got the stamina to back it up.”

Terry clicked his tongue. “Oh, you doubtin’ me? That’s crazy. Lemme find out my baby think I ain’t gon’ put in work.”

“I mean, it has been a long time, Big Papa,” You teased.

“Aight,” He drawled, tone dangerous. “Keep playin’ with me. You gon’ be beggin’ me to let you breathe when I’m done with you.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, so smooth and confident like he had zero doubt in his ability to back up every single word. The next few hours passed in a blur, the two of you tangled in conversation like it was your own little world. Terry told you about the meals he was craving—real food, not that processed mess they served on metal trays. He wanted collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, fried chicken, all made by you. “I need a home-cooked meal, baby. Something made with love,” He said, his voice full of longing. You laughed and promised to have a whole spread waiting for him. Then the conversation shifted to the small things—how he couldn’t wait to sleep in a real bed, how he wanted to go outside at night just to feel the wind on his face without fences in the way, how he wanted to sit on the couch with you and watch a movie with your legs draped over his lap. “Shit like that, ma,” He murmured. “The simple stuff. That’s what I miss the most.”

And you listened, hanging onto his every word, feeling your heart swell with each confession. The world had taken so much from him, stripped him of so many years, but somehow, he still had softness in him. He still had love to give. You found yourself telling him about all the things you wanted to do together, too—how you wanted to take him out to eat at a real restaurant, go on a drive late at night just because, lay up with him on a Sunday morning while the smell of breakfast filled the apartment. The more you talked, the more the reality of him coming home settled deep inside you. “You really gon’ take care of me, huh?” he asked, his voice low and full of something tender. “You damn right,” you whispered. “Somebody gotta make up for all that time you lost.”

If someone had told you years ago that you’d fall in love with a man behind bars, you would’ve laughed in their face. You always wanted love, prayed for it even, but you never imagined it would come in the form of Terry Richmond—a man with a past heavier than most, a man who had seen the worst parts of life and still found a way to hold onto his soul. He was the most fascinating, most alluring man you’d ever known, and you had never been more open with anyone in your life. You craved him in ways that scared you sometimes. You wanted to be the one to feed him, to run him a hot bath and wash years of struggle off his skin. You wanted to rub his shoulders, his chest, his back, to remind him that he was human, that he was home. And the way he talked to you, the way he poured into you, made you feel like you were already his sanctuary.

After you finally got off the phone, you moved into your nighttime routine, taking your time washing your face, patting your skin dry, smoothing your serums in like a ritual. You stared at yourself in the mirror, thinking about how your life was about to change. In just a few days, he’d be here, in your space, in your bed, in your life outside of those prison walls. As you reached for your bonnet and wrapped it securely around your head, your phone buzzed on the counter. FaceTime. Mama. You sighed, knowing she’d scold you if you didn’t answer, so you slid your thumb across the screen and propped the phone up.

“Hey, Mama,” You greeted, already bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” She said, peering at you through the screen. “Just callin’ to say goodnight and check on you before you went to bed.”  

“I’m alright , Mama. Just gettin’ ready for bed. Doing my usual routine.” You smiled. 

“Mm-hmm,” She hummed, then her face lit up. “Oh! Guess who I ran into today? You remember Kiana Perkins from high school?”

You frowned, digging through your memory. “Kiana Perkins… oh yeah, the one who used to run track?”

“Yes, her! Baby, she married now, got two babies, livin’ all happy with her husband. She showed me pictures and everything. And I just… I don’t know, baby, it got me thinkin’.” She started in on you. 

“Mama—” You groaned internally.

She held up a hand. “I know what you ‘bout to say, but hear me out. You not gettin’ any younger, baby. I just want you to have somebody. You always been my dumplin’, my soft-hearted baby, and I just—” She sighed. “I just want you to be loved, baby. I want somebody to take care of you for once.”

You bit your lip, heart squeezing at her words, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know that you did have somebody. That you had Terry. That soon, you wouldn’t be coming home to an empty bed anymore. You leaned back against the bathroom counter, swallowing the lump in your throat as your mother continued, her voice full of concern. 

“You know, I just don’t want you to end up like me, raising a family all on your own. You’ve got so much to offer, baby, don’t let it go to waste.” She paused, waiting for you to respond, but you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions. You wanted to tell her the truth, but you couldn’t—not yet. Terry was still behind those walls, and the world wasn’t ready for your truth. Not yet.

“I hear you, Mama,” You said softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “But I’m good. I’m happy with how things are right now.”

She eyed you, her brow furrowing, but she didn’t push it. “Alright,” she finally said, her tone softening. “Just don’t wait too long, baby. Time don’t wait for nobody.”

“I won’t, Mama. Promise,” You replied, though you knew the promise wasn’t to her. It was to yourself. You weren’t going to waste any more time. The conversation moved on, and you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for not telling her about Terry. She didn’t know that every night, you fell asleep with thoughts of him, that his voice had become the lullaby you never knew you needed. You thought about his touch, his words, the way he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world. But for now, it was a secret. Your secret. You wrapped up the call with your mother, promising to be at Sunday dinner over the weekend, and hung up. The air felt thick now, like the weight of your own desires had settled in your chest. You finished getting ready for bed, your mind racing with thoughts of Terry, wondering if he was thinking about you too, wondering how much longer you’d have to wait before he was finally home. As you slipped under the

covers, your mind drifted to your happy place and that was Terry. Eventually after saying a quick silent prayer for him and his safety like you did every night, you finally went to sleep. 

The morning light seeped through the blinds, casting long golden streaks across your bedroom. You lay there for a moment, tangled in your silk sheets, staring at the ceiling with a heavy mind. The anticipation sat on your chest like a weight. Today could be the day you got answers—real answers—about Terry’s release. No more guesswork, no more waiting in limbo. Either he’d be home in time for your birthday, or he wouldn’t. And if it was up to you, there wouldn’t be a wouldn’t. Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, shaking you from your thoughts. The number was unfamiliar, but you knew who it had to be before you even swiped to answer.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy, thick with sleep, but there was an urgency beneath it.

“Good morning, this is Michael Walker, Terry Richmond’s attorney.” The voice on the other end was smooth, professional, but you caught that slight edge—like he was bracing himself for a conversation you might not want to have. “I wanted to give you an update on his case. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course. What’s the update?” You pushed yourself upright, resting your back against the headboard.

Michael exhaled. “So here’s where we are. We’re still waiting on the judge’s final decision regarding his release. As you know, we’ve been pushing hard for full release instead of parole, but the system moves at its own pace. Right now, it’s looking like one of two things will happen—either the judge will sign off on his release, and he’ll be free to come home, or he’ll be granted parole with conditions.”

Your stomach twisted at the word “conditions.” That could mean anything. A curfew. Mandatory check-ins. Restrictions on where he could go, what he could do. You wanted Terry free—not still tangled in the system’s web.

“Is there a chance he’ll be home by my birthday?” You asked, your voice smaller than you intended.

Michael hesitated. That damn hesitation. You hated it. “That’s what we’re aiming for,” He said finally. “But it’s all in the judge’s hands. We’re doing everything we can to make it happen, but we need to be realistic.”

Your fingers tightened around the phone. “I just… I need him home.” The words left you before you could stop them, more vulnerable than you wanted to sound.

“I get it,” Michael said, and for the first time, there was something softer in his tone. “But here’s the thing—you need to make sure Terry understands how important it is for him to stay in line right now. He’s close. So damn close. But if he gets into it with the COs, if he so much as breathes wrong in there, it could delay everything. Or worse.”

A lump formed in your throat. Terry had been through hell in that prison. You knew how hard it was for him to bite his tongue, to play the game when the guards disrespected him just for breathing. You also knew how much some of those inmates hated to see another Black man about to touch freedom. Envy was a dangerous thing.

“I’ll talk to him,” You said firmly. “I’ll make sure he knows.”

“Good,” Michael replied. “I’ll keep you posted on any updates. Until then, just keep him focused on what’s waiting for him on the outside.”

And that’s exactly what you planned to do. Because he was coming home. To you. To the life y’all had spent two years dreaming up. And you weren’t about to let anything or anyone take that away. The weight of everything that needed to be done before Terry came home sat on your shoulders like a mix of excitement and pressure. There was so much to prepare, so much to buy, so much to perfect before your man walked through that door and took his rightful place in your life. Clothes, toiletries, shoes, cologne—he was stepping into a world he hadn’t been a part of since he was barely legal, and you were determined to make sure he had everything he needed to start fresh. And then there was you. Your own upkeep was just as important. You wanted to look good good for him. A fresh Brazilian wax so your skin was baby smooth, eyebrows snatched, lashes full and fluttery, and your hair? Oh, that had to be flawless—not just for your birthday but because you already knew he was going to have it all over the place by the end of the night. You could already hear the headboard knocking, already feel his breath on your skin, already picture the way he’d grip you like he was making up for lost time. The thought alone made your stomach tighten with anticipation.

But beyond all the surface-level preparation, there was a deeper feeling swirling inside you. Letting a man you’d only seen through a screen and heard through a receiver move into your home was a huge step. Some would call it crazy. Hell, a part of you knew it was risky, but love had never been about playing it safe. And with Terry? It had never felt like a risk. It felt right. He was your soulmate—plain and simple. The man you wanted to

wake up to, fall asleep with, build a family with. You’d spent two years loving him from a distance, and now, you were stepping into a reality where he was yours in every way. You weren’t naive to the adjustments that would come with it, but you also weren’t afraid. He was worth it.

With a stretch and a soft sigh, you finally pulled yourself out of bed, the silk of your nightgown clinging to your curves as you padded across your bedroom. It barely covered your ass, the hem rising with each step, and you lazily reached for your robe, wrapping it around you before making your way into the kitchen. The house was still, quiet, but soon, it would be filled with his presence. Him walking around shirtless, his deep voice filling up every room, his scent lingering on the furniture. You couldn’t wait. As you reached for the fridge, your eyes landed on the Polaroid photo of him taped to the door—one of the few glimpses of him outside of a call or a video chat. He had sent it during one of the rare inmate photo days, his expression serious but his eyes still burning with something that made your stomach flip. Damn, you fine. You ran a finger over the image, smiling to yourself before pulling out the eggs and milk.

The one thing people probably wouldn’t understand was why you had never visited him in prison. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. God knew you had begged to. But Terry? Terry was territorial to his core. It had taken months of back-and-forth, of pleading and arguing, before you finally accepted that he wasn’t going to let you step foot in that visiting room. He didn’t want no prison guards or inmates looking at his woman—studying you, lusting after you, imagining things about you that only he was allowed to. You belonged to him, and the thought of other men—especially those locked up with him—laying their eyes on you sent him into a rage he didn’t even try to hide. It wasn’t just possessiveness; it was protection. He had seen too many things go left in that place, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be a part of any of it. So, you let it go, trusting that the day would come when you wouldn’t have to love him from a distance. That day was almost here.

You were in the middle of whisking the batter for your waffles when your phone vibrated on the counter. Without hesitation, you snatched it up, already knowing who it was.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Terry’s deep, raspy voice sent a warmth down your spine. His morning voice was dangerous.

“Mmm, good morning, baby,” You hummed, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you continued mixing. “How’d you sleep?”

“Would’ve slept better with you underneath me,” He murmured, the smirk in his tone evident. “What my baby got planned for today?”

You bit your lip, smiling. “Just a quick Target and BJ’s run to stock the house up for you, then I gotta get my nails done. Oh, and I gotta swing by the post office to pick up my bundles that came in.”

He chuckled, low and knowing. “Mmm, you tryna get fine for Big Daddy?”

“Mmhmm.” You giggled, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.

“Damn, girl…” His voice dropped a little lower, and you could almost see him licking his lips on the other end. “Ima eat that pussy like crazy, baby girl.”

Your breath hitched, a heat sparking between your thighs. “Terry!” You squealed, laughing. “Stop being nasty!”

“Nah, I’m deadass serious.” His tone was dark, full of hunger. “You don’t even know what you got coming.”

You took a steadying breath, trying to shake off the goosebumps crawling up your skin. “Listen, nasty man, we need to talk.” Your tone shifted, getting serious. “Your attorney called me this morning. We need to discuss what he told me.”

“What he say?” There was a pause before he answered with a serious tone. 

You exhaled. “Baby…” You gripped the phone tighter, staring at the batter as if it had the answers. “It’s about your release.”

Terry was silent for a moment, and you could feel the shift in his energy through the phone. That easy, teasing tone from before was gone, replaced by something heavier—something cautious.

“What about it?” His voice was lower now, tight with restraint.

You sighed, setting the whisk down and gripping the edge of the counter. “He said they’re still waiting on the judge to sign off, and it could go either way. Either parole or full release.” You paused, running your tongue over your lips. “I asked if you’d be home by my birthday, and he said that’s what they’re pushing for, but the judge has to approve it first and it appears the judge is taking their sweet ass time. Same shit you told me last night.” 

“Man… I been waiting years for this moment. If they try to stall this shit…” Terry sucked his teeth, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Baby, don’t even put that energy in the air,” You cut in quickly, gripping the phone. “It’s gonna happen. You just gotta hold tight.”

“I’m tryna hold tight, ma, but you don’t understand. I been locked down since I was eighteen. Half my life. I done played by they rules, kept my nose clean, did everything I was supposed to do. And now, when it’s finally my time to touch down, they wanna drag they feet?” His frustration was raw, and you didn’t blame him one bit.

“That’s why we gotta be smart about this,” You soothed, lowering your voice. “Your attorney said you need to walk a fine line, Terry. These COs and some of them inmates? They don’t want to see you win, baby. You getting out means they lose power over you. And if you let ‘em get under your skin, if you give them any reason to stall this—”

“I know, baby,” He gritted, cutting you off. “I ain’t stupid.”

“I never said you were,” You softened, biting your lip. “But you know they’ll do anything to keep a black man locked up. You know that. You can’t afford to slip.”

Another deep sigh. “I just wanna be with you, ma,” He admitted, his voice quieter now, the vulnerability cutting through all the frustration. “That’s all I been holding on to. You. Us. The life we ‘bout to have.”

“And you will be with me, Terry. Soon. I promise.” Your heart clenched, and you closed your eyes for a second.

“You the only thing keeping me sane right now, baby,” He muttered. “You really are.”

“And you the only man I want. Ain’t nothing gon’ change that.” You swallowed hard, that warmth creeping back into your chest.

He went quiet for a beat, then, “Damn, you really love me, huh?”

“Boy, you already know.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Say it,” He murmured.

“I love you, Terrance Richmond.” You bit your lip, smiling. 

A deep exhale came through the line, like those words alone were enough to ground him. “I love you too, ma. More than you even know.”

“You better love me with your fine self.” You giggled, continuing to whisk the batter. He chuckled lowly, the sound making your ears perk up at the nostalgic sound.

“You know I want a baby soon as possible, right? Just like we talked about.” Terry’s voice dipped even lower, that familiar edge of possession curling around his words. 

“I know, baby.” You bit your lip, warmth spreading through your belly at the certainty in his tone.

“Nah,” He pressed. “I mean, soon as I get home, I’m filling you up. I ain’t playing.”

A giggle bubbled out of you. “Well, that’s good to know,”  You teased, twisting a strand of hair between your fingers. “Because I already got off my birth control, and I’m ovulating real soon.”

Silence. Then a sharp inhale from Terry. “You serious?”

“Mmhmm.” A smirk played on your lips 

“Good,” He growled. “‘Cause I ain’t pulling out. I want you pregnant, mama. You carrying my son or my baby girl. I already see it.”

A deep shudder rolled through you at the sheer conviction in his voice. There was no hesitation, no doubt—he wanted this, just like you did. Now you knew having a baby before a ring wasn’t the most conventional thing. You were raised better than that, taught that marriage first was the way to go, that being someone’s “baby mama” wasn’t the move. But Terry? He wasn’t that type of man. This wasn’t some half-thought-out, heat-of-the-moment decision. You knew exactly what you were signing up for. From the moment you told him you wanted his baby, he made it crystal clear—both you and that child would have his last name. There would be no question, no hesitation. You weren’t about to be just someone’s BM. You were his woman, his future wife.

The plan was already in motion—soon as he got out, y’all were hitting the courthouse and making it official. No long engagement, no drawn-out wedding planning stress. He wanted to be your husband immediately. And once he was settled, once he was back on his feet, working and bringing in real money, then he’d give you that big wedding, the

one with the flowers, the dress, the family all gathered to watch you walk down the aisle. But for now? The paper, the commitment, you—that’s what mattered most to him.

It wasn’t like you weren’t set up already. You made damn good money, and your degree in business administration had you sitting pretty in a high-paying corporate consulting job, helping multi-million-dollar firms streamline their operations. Your salary was more than enough to hold things down while Terry got back on his feet, and you’d already mapped out a business plan to help him reintegrate. Finding a job after doing seventeen years inside wasn’t easy, but you had resources, connections, a plan. You weren’t just bringing him home—you were making sure he stayed home. You were building a life with this man, and every step of it felt right.

“You think your family gon’ like me?” Terry exhaled through the phone, his deep voice softening just a little. Your smile, bright and easy just seconds ago, slowly faded. It was a fair question. A real one. But it wasn’t an easy one to answer. You knew your mama. Sweet, nurturing, and warm when she wanted to be, but judgmental as hell. A devout Christian woman—saved, sanctified, and filled with the Holy Ghost. She wasn’t fond of anything remotely sinful, and Terry… well, Terry was the walking definition of sinful.

There was no denying he was a fine-ass man. That wasn’t the issue. Standing tall at 6’3”, with those piercing hazel eyes that seemed to shift between ocean-gray and a stormy blue-green depending on the light. Rich, light caramel skin that deepened into a golden bronze in the summer but softened into a fairer hue in the colder months. A strong, chiseled jawline that made him look both dangerous and regal. His lips? Plump, full, always looking like they were ready to be kissed—or used for something far nastier. His short-cropped curly fro was just long enough to grab, and those thick, corded muscles? Yeah. His time behind bars didn’t just sculpt his body—it turned him into a damn statue, cut from flesh instead of marble. His tattoos, inked along his thick arms, added to his edge. Especially that sleeve—his latest one, a masterpiece he got done while inside.

He was the kind of man that turned heads when he walked into a room. The kind that made women cross their legs and bite their lip. But he wasn’t the “good, God-fearing man” your mother had envisioned for you. Terry was the complete opposite. And yet, his heart was the purest thing about him. Despite his past, despite the anger and the hurt buried deep in his soul, he was a good man. A gentle soul trapped in an exterior so hard, so intimidating, most people never got to see the real him.

You inhaled sharply, trying to find the right words. “Baby, I gotta be honest with you.”

“Mmhmm?” His voice was calm. 

You sighed. “I don’t know. My mama… she can be a bit much. And the fact that I’ve been hiding this—hiding us—for the past two years? Oh, she gon’ have a fit. And my sister? Whew, she gon’ have a mouth full too. You’d probably have better luck with my aunties than my own mama.”

Terry chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your stomach flutter. “I get it, baby. I do.” His voice was soft, understanding. “But I ain’t going nowhere. She can side-eye me, throw oil on me, pray over me ‘til she blue in the face—I’m still gon’ be here. And I’ma do whatever I can to make her love me. To make her see I ain’t some monster. ‘Cause I want this, ma. I want us. I want your family to be my family, too.”

That made you smile. A big one. The kind that deepened your dimples and warmed you from the inside out. But there was something else weighing on you. Something heavy. Something you knew Terry wouldn’t want to talk about, but you had to ask.

You hesitated before carefully pushing forward. “Baby… you gon’ reach out to your mama once you’re free?”

“Nah, Y/N. I’m not.” He answered, his voice, tight and clipped. 

You swallowed. “Baby—”

“Ain’t like she gave a fuck about me in the first place,” he cut you off, his voice colder now. “I’m in here ‘cause of her. You know that.”

“I know. I do. But, baby… you gotta forgive. Not for her. For you. You need peace, Terry. You deserve that.” You exhaled slowly. His breathing was heavier now, like he was trying to keep himself from slipping into that dark place. You hated when he went there. When the bitterness and resentment started to eat away at him.

“I got peace, baby. I got you.” His voice softened just a little, but you could still hear the hurt beneath it. “That’s all I need.”

“I hear you baby.” You softly replied. You decided to respect his wishes and let the conversation about his mother rest. He had been through enough, and you weren’t about to push him into something he wasn’t ready for. Instead, you brightened up, shifting the energy as you let out a little squeal.

“Oh! Baby, my birthday dress came!” You announced excitedly, twirling a loose curl around your finger. “I can’t wait for you to see me in it.”

Terry’s smirk was damn near audible through the phone. “Oh yeah?” His voice dropped an octave, turning rich and smooth like warm honey. “That’s cool, baby… ‘cause I can’t wait to take that shit off you.”

“It is literally nine in the morning, and you already on go.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Because I got this pretty, brown-eyed woman waiting on me,” He murmured. “And I can’t stop staring at her picture, picturing our life together beyond these walls. I just need my woman bad.” He let out a breath, voice thick with longing. “I wanna turn your body inside out, have you laid up exhausted, and then make you breakfast in the morning while you recover, boo.”

“Leave the cooking to me, Richmond. Don’t need you burning our house up.” You smirked, scratching your head. You hadn’t even realized you said it like that—our house—until the words left your lips. But Terry caught it instantly. His heart swelled, warmth spreading through his chest like wildfire.

“Our,” He repeated, grinning through the phone. “I like the sound of that. And don’t worry, baby. I could never destroy anything of ours.” His words settled over you like a warm embrace, making your stomach flutter.

Terry cleared his throat after a beat. “So, your girls still takin’ you out for your birthday?”

“Mmhmm,” You confirmed, stretching lazily. “We’re hitting this grown and sexy lounge. Got a section, a table, should be real nice. I just wanted something low-key. Nothing too crazy.”

Terry hummed in approval. “That’s what’s up. You think your girls gon’ accept me?”

You snorted. “They’re gonna love you. Especially Deja. Sonya, though… she might take a minute. She’s Miss Fake Bougie, swearing she a real housewife of Atlanta. But deep down, she’s chill. Just real protective of me.”

Terry let out a low chuckle. “Aight, sounds like a plan, baby girl. Long as they ain’t plotting to run me off, we cool.”

“Never that.” You smiled, resting your chin in your hand, leaning on the countertop.

“Mm. Aight, tell me this, then—what’s the first meal I’m getting when I come home?” He inquired, with a devious smirk. 

“Well, I was thinking… me.” Your voice became real seductive, tilting your head. 

Terry’s laughter rumbled through the phone, low and sinful. “Ain’t no thinking, that’s a guarantee. But just to be safe, cook us something for after, ‘cause we gon’ need the strength.”

“Terry, you so damn silly.” You burst out laughing, shaking your head at him.

“You love it,” He teased, and he wasn’t wrong. Because behind all that reserved, stoic energy, Terry Richmond was a damn goofball at heart. And he was your goofball. The conversation between you and Terry continued, the two of you just vibing, killing time before you had to finally pull yourself away and get in the shower. He told you about a wild dream he had last night—some crazy mix of old memories and future fantasies of the two of you together.

“Man, I swear, I had the realest dream, baby,” He said, voice lazy and deep. “We was laid up in this big-ass house, had the baby in the crib next to us… you was wearin’ my T-shirt, lookin’ all sexy with your lil’ bonnet on, and I just kept pullin’ you closer, not even tryna let you sleep.”

“So you gon’ keep me up even in your dreams?” You laughed, rolling onto your side, twirling the bedsheets between your fingers. 

“Hell yeah,” He said without hesitation. “I been starvin’, baby. Soon as I touch down, I’m eatin’ you up, kissin’ on you, makin’ love to you every chance I get. You gon’ be sick of me.”

“Never that daddy,” You murmured, feeling warmth spread through your body at just the thought of how it would feel to finally have him home.

“Bet,” He chuckled, then let out a deep sigh. “I just be sittin’ in this cell picturing it, picturing us—you in the tub, all soaped up, candles lit, slow jams playin’… me right behind you, holdin’ you close, runnin’ my hands all over that soft ass skin, kissing up your neck… licking on your nipples..”

Your breath hitched, already envisioning the exact same thing. You had put together a playlist for his arrival—nothing but the smoothest 90s and early 2000s R&B, songs that made you wanna melt into somebody’s arms.

“You wanna know what I was thinking about?” You asked, biting your lip.

“What, baby?”  He feigned innocence.

“How you gon’ be sneakin’ into the shower while I’m tryna get ready for work,” you giggled. “Talkin’ about, ‘lemme wake you up the right way’—like I don’t have places to be!”

Terry laughed but then hummed in approval. “Shit, I am waking you up the right way. Gon’ have you walkin’ into work with a smile so big, they gon’ know somebody put it there.”

Your stomach flipped at the thought, heat rising to your cheeks. You were so gone for this man. “You just wait, Richmond,”You teased, sighing dramatically. “You about to be a full-time distraction.”

“That’s my plan, baby.” He grinned through the phone. 

After a few more minutes of sweet talk, you finally sighed. “Alright, I need to get in the shower before I lay here and talk to you all day.”

“I ain’t stoppin’ you,” Terry teased. “I just wanna hear the water runnin’. Let me close my eyes and imagine it.”

“Boy, bye!” You laughed, shaking your head before reluctantly hanging up.

—

The hot water cascaded over your skin as you leaned against the shower wall, letting the warmth soak into your muscles. Your mind was racing with all the intimate moments you’d been daydreaming about since Terry’s release date became a real possibility. Late nights soaking in the tub together, his strong arms wrapped around you, his lips trailing along your shoulder. Waking up to him pulling you into his body, whispering in your ear before making love to you first thing in the morning. The idea of sharing a home, a bed, a life with him made your stomach flip with anticipation. You had been living alone for so long, moving on your own schedule, answering to no one. But now, there would be him. His things mixed with yours, his scent lingering in your sheets, his presence filling the empty spaces. And you couldn’t wait.

Once you finished luxuriating, you stepped out, wrapping yourself in a plush towel. You took your time getting dressed—pulling on a pair of black leggings that hugged your curves and a Nike sports bra, slipping into your most comfortable sneakers. You tied your hair into a sleek bun, then grabbed a baseball cap to shield your eyes from the Georgia sun. After grabbing your Louis Vuitton Speedy 30, you were just about to head out the door when your phone rang and you saw it was Sonya.

You sighed before answering, already bracing yourself. “What’s up, girl?”

“Mm, what you got going on today?” She asked, her tone full of suspicion, like she knew you were up to something.

“Just about to make a quick Target and BJ’s run,” You said casually, hoping she’d just let it go.

“Oh, perfect! I need to hit Target anyway! I’ll meet you there.” She stated. You internally cringed. Sonya didn’t know about Terry yet. And you definitely didn’t need her up in your cart asking a hundred questions about all the men’s products you were grabbing.

“Girl, I’m moving quick today,” You abruptly said, trying to throw her off. “Gotta be in and out, no time for browsing.”

“Please, you never just ‘run in’ anywhere,” Sonya scoffed. “I’ll keep up.”

“Sonya…” You huffed, rubbing your temple. 

“What?” She laughed. “Why you sound so stressed? You tryna move funny or somethin’?”

“You know I move funny, that ain’t new.”You let out a dry laugh. 

“Mhm, and that’s exactly why I’m coming.” She snickered. 

You sighed dramatically, knowing there was no way out of this now. “Fine, I’ll see you there,” You relented, already planning how you were going to strategically avoid letting her see all the things you were picking up for Terry. You hurried up and grabbed your car keys and your Stanley cup from your kitchen counter before heading right out the door to your car. You hit the unlock button on your key fob and heard the chirp. Sliding into the plush leather seat of your Mercedes-Benz, you place your Stanley cup in the cupholder before pressing the push-to-start button. The engine purrs to life, and before you can even adjust the air, the CarPlay screen lights up, immediately blasting the smooth, honeyed vocals of Maxwell’s “Fortunate” through the speakers.

Your heart leaps in excitement. “SING IT, MAXWELL!” You squeal, gripping the steering wheel and swaying your shoulders as if you’re right there on stage with him. 

This is your song. Terry’s song. The one he always sings to you over the phone—completely off-key but with so much passion, like he’s pouring every piece of himself into it. You can still hear him now—“I never sang a song with all my might…”—his deep, rough voice twisting the lyrics into something that sounds nothing like Maxwell, but you never cared. It was him. It was you. It was love. You pull out of the driveway, easing onto the streets of Atlanta, the sun gleaming against the hood of your Benz. The beat of the song wraps around you, filling every inch of the car with warmth. With one hand on the wheel and the other tapping rhythmically against your thigh, you let the city move around you, the skyline stretching high above as you feel the music, feel the love behind every lyric. Terry is coming home. Soon. And as Maxwell’s voice croons through the speakers, you let yourself dream—of slow dances in the living room, of his arms pulling you close as you sway to this very song, of him pressing soft kisses along your shoulder while mumbling the lyrics into your ear.You exhale, your lips curling into a soft, knowing smile. It’s only a matter of time.

Pulling into the Target parking lot, you let out a long, heavy sigh, gripping the wheel as you mentally prepared yourself for Sonya. You loved your girl—no doubt about it. Sonya was one of those ride-or-die friends who would cut up with you on a Saturday night and pray with you on Sunday morning. But she was also the kind of woman who didn’t know the meaning of boundaries. She always had to be up in the mix, tasting the flavor, giving unsolicited advice even when it wasn’t needed. And it wasn’t that you didn’t want to share Terry with your girls—because you did. He was your man, and you were proud of him.

But you wanted to make sure this was real. That this was happening. That he was actually going to be home before you started bragging and boasting about him to your family and friends. You couldn’t count how many times you’d gotten excited about a brotha, only for him to turn out to be a disappointment. And every time, you had to do the walk of shame, explaining to everyone that it didn’t work out. You hated the look of disappointment on your mother’s face, the I told you so smirk on your sister’s lips, and God forbid Sonya’s infamous, “I knew that nigga wasn’t shit.” speeches. And then there was Deja, who always chimed in with, “Girl, want me to get my cousin to kill him?”

You loved your girls, but the last two years had been a sacred kind of peace. You had cultivated this private, intense, deeply intimate relationship with Terry while he was behind bars, and there was something pure about keeping it just between the two of you. You knew that sometimes, outside influence could ruin a good thing, and you weren’t ready to share your world just yet. But if things aligned perfectly—if the odds were in your favor, if the judge signed off, and if God was looking out for you—then they would meet him the night of your birthday outing. You just hoped everything would fall into place. You hopped out of the car, grabbing your Louis Vuitton Speedy 30 from the passenger seat and slinging it over your arm. Just as you shut the door, you spotted Sonya standing near the entrance, her arms crossed, her stance already radiating irritation. You took a deep inhale, bracing yourself, then walked over, greeting her with a quick hug.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” You asked, noticing her sour expression.

“Chile, my damn hairstylist just sent me that infamous ‘Hey boo’ text, and I just know it’s about to be some bullshit.” Sonya sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.

“That’s why I told you to stop going to her, Sonya. She’s unprofessional as hell and always canceling on you at the last minute.” You snorted and shook your head. 

“I know, I know,” She whined dramatically, throwing her hands up. “But girl, she know how to lay my damn wigs. She makes that lace look like scalp! I do not wanna go to nobody else!”

You laughed, grabbing a cart and rolling into the store with her. You weren’t even five steps inside before you gave her a knowing look and smirked. “I don’t even know why you waste your time getting them wigs laid, knowing Omar gon’ pull that shit right off your head and have your lace looking crazy by the end of the night.”

“You ain’t lying, girl. You really ain’t lying.” Sonya stuck her tongue out at you before giggling, clearly thinking about how wild her and her man got. 

You shook your head, laughing as you made your way toward the laundry aisle, grabbing detergent, fabric softener, and some cleaning products. You wanted the house to be

perfect for Terry’s homecoming—fresh sheets, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air, everything spotless for his arrival.

As you reached for a bottle of Febreze, Sonya nudged you. “So… you excited for your birthday?”

“Yeah… I really am.” You smiled, biting your lip as you nodded. Truth be told you were more excited for Terry’s arrival than your own birthday. For as long as you could remember you weren’t the most excited to celebrate your birthday. To you, it was just another day and another reminder that you were leaving your glorious twenties and getting closer to hitting your dirty thirties. That is until Terry came into your life and shifted your perspective on life itself. He taught you that every birthday should be celebrated and that life is too short to not celebrate the breath in your lungs and waking up everyday. Especially with his circumstances and how his life got snatched from him because he chose to do the right thing and defend his mother’s honor against her abuser, but in the end it wasn’t so honorable and his dreams and young life got cut short with the snap of a finger. So this year you chose to have a better outlook on your birthday, thanks to your baby Terry. 

 You continued to move swiftly through Target, pushing your cart with concentration, mentally checking off everything Terry will need once he’s home. You start with the Dove Men+Care bar soap, grabbing a few packs because you know the fresh, clean scent will suit him. Next is the Old Spice body wash—the deep, rich, masculine fragrance makes you weak in the knees, so you know it’ll be perfect for him. You toss it in the cart, followed by men’s deodorant, mouthwash, and toothpaste—because even though you’ve never stood close enough to breathe him in, you already decided that your man will smell fresh, clean, and irresistible.

You head down the haircare aisle, running your fingers over the different bottles before settling on a moisturizing shampoo and conditioner. You know prison air is dry as hell, and you’re not about to have your man coming home with his hair brittle and neglected. A large jar of Palmer’s whipped cocoa butter goes into the cart next—you love how smooth and rich it feels against your skin, and you can already picture yourself rubbing it into his arms, his shoulders, his hands… making sure he’s soft and well taken care of. Just as you’re reaching for a pack of Dude Wipes, Sonya turns from the next aisle, glancing over at your cart. She tilts her head, her perfectly arched brows raising as she takes in all the men’s products sitting inside.

“Uh-uh. Who’s all this for?” She asks, crossing her arms. Your heart skips a beat.

“Oh!” You force out a laugh, thinking quick. “My sister’s in town with her fiancé, and they’re staying at my mom’s house. She needed some stuff to keep there for him.”

Sonya narrows her eyes for a second, then shrugs. “Oh okay, that makes sense. I was about to say, girl, you got a whole grown man’s starter kit in there.”

You laugh nervously, nodding as you grip the handle of your cart, pushing forward. Just when you think you’re in the clear, your phone buzzes in your purse. You glance down and see the caller ID: Terry’s lawyer. Your stomach instantly tightens. He already called earlier—so why is he calling again?

“Hey, hold on,” You tell Sonya, trying to keep your voice light. “I gotta take this real quick.”

“Cool, I’ll meet you at checkout.” Sonya waves you off, already distracted by something on the next shelf. Stepping out of the aisle, you answer, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answer, voice low. 

“We’ve got a problem,” His lawyer says, his voice urgent.Your body stiffens.

“What? What happened?” You held your breath. 

“There’s been an incident in the prison yard. Terry was involved.” He deeply sighs. Your heart  plummets straight to your ass because you told this nigga—.

“WHAT?!” You shout, loud enough that people around you turn their heads. You clamp a hand over your mouth, forcing yourself to breathe, to stay calm.

“I’m still gathering details,” His lawyer continues, “ But from what I’m hearing, there was some kind of altercation. If the judge catches wind of this, his release could be revoked… or at the very least, stalled.”

The words ring in your ears, drowning out the noise of the store. Revoked?! Stalled?!Your hands start to tremble on the cart handle, your vision blurring with tears. Just when you thought you were so close to having him home—just when everything was falling into place—here comes some bullshit.

“Please… just tell me he’s okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. You swallow hard, gripping the phone tighter.

“I really don’t know. I’m working on it. I’ll call you back when I know more.” He sighed again, sounding defeated. Then the line goes dead, making you tear up. You stood frozen in the middle of Target, your world spinning, your stomach in knots. And just like that, everything you had been dreaming of, praying for, feels like it’s slipping right through your fingers.

This couldn't be happening right now, not right now....

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[wisteriamusic]

I’m pretty sure Nightmare and Dream are immune as is canon but everyone else I like to think is in danger probably only Ink and Error are also immune for completely different reasons.

I like to imagine different kind of Au’s divisions I guess the first type are those who live in a game world their world is a game, game mechanics are often real parts of their world and the rules and limits can be strict or more intense randomly some Au’s can only say the same coded lines and nothing else others have free speech but are made to follow a script like an out of body experience they are less likely to discover about the multiverse so people usually avoid that side of the multiverse and never go into any Au’s they don’t want to go somewhere and then be trapped becoming a coded character, another type are just story Au’s they have bo connections to games or fourth wall entities everything that happens comes from in story characters theirs no player no nothing they have a higher likelihood of finding out about the multiverse but most of the time don’t care, and finally the third kind a mix of both maybe their is a fourth wall entity like a player but their world isn’t a game they just think it is examples would be a player entity controlling frisk and treating the world like a game, or maybe the world has game mechanics and such but their isn’t any Player just Frisk maybe their world is all code and theirs nothing left.

couple good fanfics about things like living in a game world or just a world made of code being The Scientist Series was so satisfying and I loved Error-Handling Message. Underflow a shorter work but it is completed and I like Chara plot twist. Also Undercontrol which I haven’t finished reading but focuses heavy on the fact that they are actual characters with Sans breaking from the sequence but unable to have a happy ending because their isn’t a surface or happy ending actually coded into their world having to leave his world to help Gaster who promises to help if he collects all the pieces of him sending him through the multiverse to meet many new people. All three can be found on Archiveofourown

the player’s existence in undertale aus are very strange to me. for example the player canonically exists in something new, which is canonically a game like undertale is iirc (given that killer’s code was changed), and simultaneously so does the multiverse which is out of the player’s control. and it just got me thinking. like.

everything can be found in a game’s files and then tweaked to your heart’s desire. that’s what happened with killer. but when others enter an au, do their ‘contents’ also get added to that au’s game’s files? are they now editable? is going into an au where the player is known to have a high influence on the world a risky thing to do? if nightmare went into an au where the player is known to change things to fit how they want, could nightmare be changed? or would he be immune?

thinking. of things. really tired edition

[pupslimes]

how easy you are to need part 1

so. inspiration struck. blame haz for how long this is he infected me with the making stories a million pages bug. thank you to like all 5 of the people who read this before i posted it. anyways id like to present what i think is tumblrs first grizz x reader. definitely its first biz x grizz x reader because ive been scouring for that shit. love you guys!

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It was a good session again. Of course, anything Nate DM’ed was going to be great, but every session felt better than the last. You hadn’t expected to become a recurring character on Riptide when Nate had invited you to join at an open audition you met at, but you were more than excited to be. You didn’t expect all your nervous ramblings to end up taking you anywhere past an Instagram follow at best. But after you hopped down from the stage, Nate had booked it over. “I don’t even care if either of us get the part anymore,” he tripped over his feet and his words as he skidded to a halt in front of you, as if desperate to reach you. “Do you play DND?” At your excited nod, he had launched into an explanation of his podcast, particularly the campaign he ran, and you’d jumped at the chance, excited to maybe grow your own audience. And it had grown, but so had your friend group. By so many now, well beyond the five who you met when you started guest appearing. You’d even made your way into a few of Charlie’s videos at this point. A few speculations had swirled around about if you were dating anyone you were appearing with, but you’d solidly put those rumors to bed on your first stream post guest appearance. Your regular chat new you were an aspiring voice actor, and several of them were apparently also JRWI fans, cheering for you when they’d heard you’d met Grizzly. You were probably going to have to start seeking mods at this point, with the few people who just couldn’t seem to let your relationship status go, or thought they had the right to be assholes now that you’d gained a little notority with the boys and Milo. Jealous freaks.

You had poured a lot of yourself into your DND character, and it showed. He was incredibly flirty, just like you were in real life. It was what had helped you build your brand, a sharp sense of humor and an almost strange openness to your chat hitting on you. Not many guy streamers responded like you do to your chat, so you saw a small flood of watchers when you started. After you were outed, the viewership might have gone down, but you hardly noticed after the queer community had started pouring into the chat, their support becoming your mainstay in the community. You’d branched out from gaming, now running practice lines or even cooking streams with your close community of followers. You were nowhere near quitting your day job, but you loved your audience for their kindness, not the money. Of course some of the new people had also seen Just Roll With It, and had guessed when you mentioned you’d be guest starring on a show soon, and described your character in great detail. You’d kept quiet about confirming it outright, however, and enjoyed the excited messages from those who were proven right when the episode dropped. The chat demanded a watch party, but you cringed at the idea of watching yourself for an entire episode, especially with the knowledge that you were around for several.

Of course you’d stayed for several. Any time everyone gathered in LA, the boys filmed as many episodes as possible. There was a huge popularity in the in person episodes compared to the rest of them, and it was obvious to you why after sitting in on a few. The energy between the five was abundant, everyone practically bouncing off the walls both on and off camera. You had to toss back a few energy drinks to keep up with the rest of them, especially Charlie, who seemed like a boundless ball of energy, bouncing around at lightspeed and chatting your ear off. Your only solace was Milo, who seemed to also hang back just a little bit, except when it came to Zach. You were immediately taken under her wing, as another Riptide newbie, and she demanded you sit with her all day, claiming you needed to team up against the rest of the group. You giggled, and everyone else laughed with you, especially after you cracked a joke in response. The tension rolled off your shoulders after that, and you found yourself able to settle in more easily. You made a mental note to thank her later, which you did, profusely, but she just waved it off with a light shove to your shoulder.

Of course, being in an enclosed basement with five other people, in incredibly close quarters, meant you noticed things better. Meant you noticed a lot of things better, actually. For instance, you noticed the way that Nate constantly fiddled with his hair, pushing and shoving it around his forehead, tossing their head slightly to keep it away from their eyes. Their hands were never still either, twisting at any prop he could get his hands on, or on any jewelry he was wearing. Those were definitely the reasons you spent so much time staring at their hands and face. That and the fact that he was the DM. That was it, absolutely no other reason. And your cheeks were flushed from the heat in there! No matter that Zach had, as usual, set the AC to 69 degrees, six bodies in a room together was bound to generate a lot of heat. 

Speaking of Zach… well. From the beginning, you couldnt help but notice him after the two of you were introduced. His hair fell around his face very nicely, and his stubble looked like it would be almost soft to the touch. You were looking because you were envious, obviously! Getting on T had changed your hair pattern, and it kept a slight wave to it now. You had no idea what to do with it, but Zach obviously did. You’d have to ask him for his hair routine later, even though you assumed it was probably just three in one or something. Ugh. Cis men were so lucky, and they had no idea. The beard was also a source of envy for you. Yours grew in patchy and scraggly, the texture making you bristle when you touched it, so you kept your cheeks, chin, and neck absent of any hair. Sure it contributed to you not passing as well, but after getting top surgery, you really couldnt bring yourself to care. Everyone in the room made it a point to respect your pronouns, and your stomach only twisted when Zach called you man or dude because it gave you euphoria! Absolutely no other reason…

Safe to say, you were probably fucked.

So what if every time you made eye contact with one of them your cheeks flushed a little darker? It wasn’t visible on camera (yes, you did check, and no, it wasn’t weird that you asked to see the footage. Image as a streamer was important, okay?), and none of them commented on it, so you did your best not to draw attention to it either. You only laughed a little too loud at a joke once or twice, and it could totally be played off as nerves about the game. It was fine! Everything was going to be fine! You carefully kept watch on both Zach and Nate the first day, noting the glances they exchanged, but it never seemed to be anything past about the campaign itself.

You were able to relax more on the second day you trampled down the basement stairs, already buzzed on an extra large coffee from the shop up the street from Charlie’s place. You’d hit up the gas station as well, picking up snacks for the group along with your energy drinks you had found yourself craving yesterday. As you tossed a bag of Donettes on the table, Zach’s hand shot out to snatch them. “Bro! These are my favorite! How did you know?” He tore into the bag.

“Dude! It’s day two! Do you already have no fucking sense of decorum left?” Milo ribbed.

Zach lobbed a doughnut at her, which she caught on instinct, before lamenting her now powder covered fingers. Zach just snorted. “Serves you right,” He looked over to you, sticking a thumb out towards Milo and jamming it towards her. “Women, am I right?” You cackled, elbows dropping to the table to hold your head in your hands as you laughed with him.

“Lord forbid women do anything!” Milo called. “You’re officially uninvited from sitting next to me today, by the way. Hang out with your traitorous boy friends or whatever,”

“Fine! Maybe I will!” you chuckled. “Girls have cooties anyways!”

Zach slipped an arm around your waist, smiling triumphantly as he pulled you towards him. Your yelp came from nothing except surprise, thank you very much, and your glance to Nate was only to make sure that they weren’t waiting to get started, thank you very, very much. Nate’s gaze was trained on you, but he seemed a little spaced out, so your stomach settled quickly. Removing Zach’s hand from your hip gently, you scolded him.

“Hands off, unless you want me in your lap, Biz,” you joked, attempting to ease the tension slightly.

“Maybe I do,” he purred, jokingly. Jokingly, right? Obviously. Whatever. So what your heart caught in your throat?

You shook your head, face reddening slightly. “Gross dude, I’m not fucking gay,”

The rest of the room burst out laughing with you two this time, and you shoved him away from you as you crashed down into the chair next to him. You all settled down pretty quickly at Nate’s urges, and you jumped into session after session, poking a little more fun at Milo today than you had yesterday. The rest of them were treated with even more fervor, just like your other interactions with them. Eventually, after a few Riptide sessions, full of screaming, bullying, and threats, you all cut the cameras and broke for lunch, ordering a practical buffet from the Asian place down the street. It was dead silent for the first several minutes after the food had been divvied out, everyone ravenous after all the effort from the morning. Eventually, Nate broke the silence, turning to you. “Hey,”

“Yeah, Grizz?”

“You know you can call us all our names right? Like, off camera? I know it’s weird to use two names but. We like using names outside of session,” he smiled at you gently.

Your cheeks darkened immediately. “Ah! Um… well. If anyone is going to be good at using two names for people, it’ll be me,” A general chuckle from around the table. “I just wasn’t sure we were friends like that quite yet,”

Nate piqued an eyebrow at you. “What is that supposed to mean? You’re in the inner circle at this point! Once you’re in a Charlie video, you’re in!”

“Even if you’re only there virtually? Among Us doesn’t usually indicate the highest level of friendship,”

A snort from Charlie. “Well, yeah I guess, but you’ve joined the slompound officially, dude,”

A grin split your face. “Okay! Thanks, Sli- Charlie,” 

He smiled back at you. Nate pouts. “Hey! I’m the one who brought it up!” 

You turned back to them. “Of course, how could I forget? Thank you, Nate,” You must have imagined the color that dusted high on his cheeks when you said his name.

When you all made it back down to the basement, you decided to push your luck a little. “Miloooooo,” you whined. She turned to you, and so did Zach and Nate, Charlie and Eric continuing to swap out props for Judgement sessions. “If I apologize for earlier can I sit next to you again? Zach smells,”

Her face perked with a laugh, but before she could get any words out, Zach wss on top of you. “Hey!” He smacked at you gently a few times. “Fucking rude bitch,” You stuck your tongue out at him, and he smirked, before grabbing for it, his thumb grazing it before you could slip it back in your mouth. You reacted a second too late, pretending to be disgusted at the taste of his skin, sputtering and spitting, before retreating towards Milo. 

She looked at you with false pity in her eyes. “Oh you poor thing, of course you can sit with me!” She fliped off Zach, and you joined her. He flipped you off back.

Condi’s voice boomed out in the room. “Ooooooookay, you guys. Let’s cool off now, yeah?” The fingers all turned to him. “Hey!”

After several sessions of Judgement, you all stumbled, bleary eyed, up the basement stairs, slamming bodies down onto the couches forming the pit in Charlie’s living room. Charlie groaned, turning his head to the side. 

“Half an hour of rotting, and then dessert and a movie?” More groans, ascension from the others and yourself filled the room. You closed your eyes, letting the shapes behind them spin and lull you into a stupor. 

Before you knew it, someone was shaking you awake. You blinked heavily, hands reaching out to tangle in a shirt, and a small grunt was let into your ear, breath brushing your face. “Come on, man,” a gravelly voice nearly cooed down at you. Your eyes opened wider. Oh, shit. That would be Zach above you, and his shirt you had your hands tangled in. You released it quickly, pressing yourself back down into the couch. 

“Sorry, bro!”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Nothing to apologize for. You’re cute when you’re sleepy or whatever,” he winked at you.

Despite knowing it was a joke, your breath caught in your throat a little. “And you’re a sight to wake up to,” You shot back. He grinned.

“Come on, argue with me for ice cream,” he referenced your favorite dessert, warming your heart that he remembered it.

In the end, you got ice cream. Nate also immediately glued themself to your side when you walked in with Zach, and became your ally in the dessert argument. His weird tension towards Bizly relaxed after he advocated for ice cream as well, and you couldn’t help but wonder at what was happening between the two of them. You didn’t have enough brain power left that night to really bring yourself to decode it, so you let it go. After the movie, everyone unanimously agreed to crash as fast as possible, and you barely even made it to your room before you passed out. 

That was how you found yourself now, on your third day with the group. You squint against the sun, streaming through the blinds you hadn’t closed last night. You consider going back to sleep for another hour or so, but the disgusting taste in your mouth eventually forces you up. You had definitely forgotten to brush your teeth last night. As you scrubbed at your teeth with a heavy hand, you woke up slightly more, checking the time on your phone. 11:30. You were grateful you only had the one session to film today, and then you’d have time to just hang out with everyone. They’d even agreed to stream with you later, insisting you all play Jackbox together. You spat into the sink. Gross. Orange. Rinsing out your mouth and splashing your face, you ponder on who else could be up. You decide to sneak into the kitchen and see who’s around. Padding in on gentle feet, you can smell coffee brewing. You peek around the corner, and long silvery hair catches your eye. 

“Hey, Nate,” your voice is always a little gravelly in the mornings, catching in the back of your throat until you’ve really woken all the way up.

He startles a little at your call, head snapping over his shoulder before he relaxes. “Oh, hey! Sorry, voice I’m not used to hearing in the morning. You sound like you smoke a pack a day or something,”

You chuckle, hand rubbing the back of your neck. “Is it at least hot?”

His cheeks flush a little, but he grins. “Very,”

You hum in appreciation, sliding over in your sock feet to the coffee pot. “Almost ready?”

They nod. “Started it about 5 minutes ago. Sorry if the noise woke you up,”

Unable to fully communicate, you shake your head and reach for him, dragging him into a hug to show your feelings instead. He lets out a slight noise of surprise, before reaching to hug you back. Arms tangle over your waist, and his head drops to your shoulder, where it fits perfectly due to your height difference. You hum lightly, gripping him a little tighter, before drifting away mentally just a little, drinking in the warmth and softness of his support beneath your head, clad in a comfy red sweatshirt. He smells like some kind of plant life and petrichor. You inhale more deeply, trying to catch what kind of plant it is, but the long breaths and comforting position go straight to your still hazy brain, and you find yourself relaxing into them further. Nate never protests, his head shifting further into the crook of your shoulder ,a gentle sigh escaping him.

When the coffee timer goes off, beeping a singular time, both of you tense slightly. You realize just how long you’ve been wrapped in each other, and you step away slightly. “Sorry,”

His face is almost the same color as his hoodie. “Don’t be,”

Before you can say anything else, a voice sounds from the hallway. “Do I hear coffee?” Eric strolls into the room. “Thank you guys so fucking much, holy shit. I alwways feel hungover after big session days. I’m not sure how we ever recorded The Suckening all at once,”

“I’m assuming a lot of caffeine,” you huff, and Nate nods at your side, attempting nonchalance. 

“That and going crazy in the red room,”

You all giggle together, pouring and sipping at coffee, the other two feeding you stories of different campaigns, you drinking them in with glittering eyes. The others eventually make their way in, joining the three of you at the table. You don’t even notice that Nate’s leg has pressed against yours under the table until Zach pulls up the chair to your other side, squishing himself up to you. “You snore in your sleep,”

You smack at his wrist, skin to skin echoing in the room as your eyes widen. “Good morning to you, sunshine,”

He smirks. “I got up to piss in the middle of the night and heard it,”

“Fuck you,”

“If you insist,”

You stick your tongue out at him again. He raises an eyebrow before reaching to pinch it again. This time, you snap your teeth at his fingers. “Feisty boy,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Freak,”

He chuckles. “You’re the one who tried to bite me,” 

You huff. “I’m talking to Nate now. Goodbye,”

He pretends to pout as you turn yourself to Nate, leaning in further to him. “Hi, handsome,”

He swallows heavily before responding, but recovers fast, leaning into you as the conversations continue, Milo now yelling at Zach for being a bitch. Again. You giggle. Breakfast goes by quickly, and before you know it, you’re back in the basement. You stay attached to Nate this time, even after he pulls off his sweatshirt, and your skin is pressing directly to his. Everyone is crowded together more today. No one will notice.

After you finish the session, much more quickly this time, you peel yourself from him. “I’m going upstairs for another energy drink,” you declare. “I’ll need it to survive the day. I can come clean up later,” The rest of them wave you off, insisting you shouldn’t be cleaning after your first in person week, and you blow them a raspberry as you bounce upstairs. 

Reaching into the fridge, you pull out an ice cold can, relishing in the feeling against your heated hands. You crack open the can over the sink, and take a long pull from it. You close your eyes as you feel the caffeine start invading your bloodstream, and your thoughts wander back to the events from below.

Lost in thought about the session, and maybe about Nate and Zach, you don't notice anything until the sound of rustling perks your ears. you turn around at the noise. He's standing behind you, inches away, grinning. You stumble back a few steps. "Oh! Biz... ah, Zach...hi," The name still feels foreign in your mouth, not your gut reaction, but they’d all practically demanded you start calling them their names. As you move backward, not looking where you're going, you back into a wall...no... someone. someone warm, someone whose arms wrap around your waist as they press a kiss to the shoulder they were buried in only hours earlier. "Hey, sweetheart," Fuck.  "Hi, Nate,"

[ravennaortiz]

2/9: pictures with Chibs requested by @youngadult9016 As always 18+

“Hey Boss. Got a letter for ya” called Tig as he strolled into the clubs meeting room waving an envelope in the air.

“Set it to the side” sighed Chibs as he kept his eyes on the ledger in front of him. He had been going over the clubs finances for the last hour and this was the third interruption.

Tig frowned as he noted the three other envelopes next to Chibs whiskey glass. Rat wasn’t kidding when he said Chibs had know idea about the gold mine laying on the table in front of him. “Think you should open these in this order immediately Chibs” he stated as he took a seat and arranged the envelopes and set them on top of the ledger. “Trust me brother” he added as Chibs eyes him over his glasses.

“Fine. After this no more interruptions” stated Chibs firmly as he picked up the stack of envelopes and sat back.

Tig watched in amusement as Chibs frowned at the first one. It was a photo of you on his bike, not sure what was so important about that. Opening the second he swallowed hard as he saw you had ditched the dress and was just in heels and a lingerie set. You looked gorgeous as you posed for the camera.

“Told you” muttered Tig as Chibs frantically opened the next one that showed you without the top and playing with your hardened nipples. Chibs could hear the little sounds coming from your pretty opened mouth just looking at the photo. He had always been amazed at your photography skills and how you captured so much in one moment.

“Fuck” muttered Chibs as he opened the envelope Tig had brought in. You had only just the heels on, sun glistening off your slick center as your fingers slipped into one of his favorite spots on your body. Without a further word he slammed his chair back as he tucked the photos in his kutte and sprinted for the door fumbling for his bike keys.

“Have a good valentines fuck” called Tig as he chuckled to himself. Gathering up all of chibs paperwork he moved it back to the safe and pulled his phone out and shot you a text.

-Old man enroute doll. Don’t ride him to hard-

You chuckled to yourself as you read the message from Tig. Glancing around your busy gallery you figured you only had a couple minutes to clear everyone out before they all got a show.

You were flipping the open sign as Chibs burst through the door. Without a word he had you pushed into the front window of your studio as he ground himself against you and bunched up your dress. The sound of ripping fabric as he tore your panties from your body was the only sound aside from his pants hitting the floor.

You moaned as he thrusted into you in one powerful motion that shoved your face up against the glass of the window.

“So wet Lassie” murmured Chibs as he slowly fucked you and his mouth sucked and nipped at your neck. “Been waiting for Daddy to come fuck you hmm” he added as people passed by on the sidewalk a couple feet away. “Sending naughty photos with my men” he continued as you clamped around him making him groan.

“All for you Daddy” you moaned as he hit that sweet spot that had you seeing stars and your toes curling.

You whined as Chibs pulled from you panting. “Knees” he ordered as he spun you around before pushing you to the ground. “Smile pretty Lassie” he stated as he snapped a photo once your lips were around his cock. “We are going to make a photo album today love” he added before putting his hands on your head and starting to thrust in and out of your mouth.

[rebelliousstories]

Card

ValenFics

Relationship: Eddie Munson x Reader

Fandom: Stranger Things

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Strong Language, References to Drugs

Word Count: 1,322

Main Masterlist: Here

Summary: Why must candy-grams be a thing? What purpose do they serve? Why do people think it’s okay to deal them out to students who use them to rub it in each other’s faces?

Consider Donating: Here

How in the ever loving hell did Eddie get into this point of his life? Struggling to finish his senior year in the wonderful year of 1984. And now, specifically at this point in time, he was racking his brain as he tried to think of just who was turning his life upside down. It started off the previous Monday on the 6th.

With Valentine’s Day next Tuesday, the school was in full swing. There were decorations strung about, and every student was being sickeningly sweet. It was genuinely starting to piss him off the more he was in this god forsaken school. And, of course, with Valentine’s Day so close, such began the annual, cruel and unusual punishment known as candy- grams.

Eddie put no faith into getting one of these things. For three years he has witnessed everyone around him getting one, but not the freak. It seemed he was the only person that was not worth the effort. But it did not bother him all that much. Valentine’s Day meant that his side- hustle would be doing well in the coming week as those who ridiculed and bullied him during the school day, suddenly needed something from him after hours.

Which is why on Monday, the day before Valentine’s Day, he was utterly baffled by the scenario that had unfolded. Just before the first period bell, Eddie was at his locker to grab his text book for American history with Mr. Doyle, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Turning, he was face to face with Jake Bellman, another senior and one of those preps that made sure Eddie knew his place whenever he got the chance.

“Yo, Munson. Got something for you.” Jake stated, with a certain attitude that conveyed the silent message that he would rather be anywhere other than here. Reaching into the box that he held in his hands, Bellman grabbed a box of candy hearts with his name on them, and passed the sweets to the freak. Without a word, Jake walked off, greeting others with their candy-grams with much more enthusiasm.

Shifting his focus to his hands, Eddie, in bewilderment, observed the box closely. His name was written on it in a differing handwriting than the note on the back. Wait, there was a note on the back. Anxiety creeped in as he hoped that this was not some stupid senior prank. In delicate, cursive handwriting, he read, “Roses are red, Elves are cute too, I’d like to have a DnD date with you. Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie.”

There was no signature. Nothing that would indicate who had written and paid for the candy- gram. So, he spent the rest of the day keeping his eyes out. Eddie’s head was on a swivel as he tried to see if someone was staring at him longer than usual. Or with a different look than he was used to. But no luck in his first three classes. Leaving third period English, he went to go put his books away when he saw something sticking out of his locker.

A single rose. Whoever was playing the joke was doing a damn good job of convincing him that they were serious. Pulling the flower carefully from the grates, the boy mindlessly shoved his books away and grabbed his lunch box. The entire walk to the cafeteria was split between looking at his new ice of flora, and again, searching for whoever was the one that had been giving him all the attention today. Sure, it was a welcomed change from his usual schedule of torment and ridicule, but an odd one.

In the lunchroom, Eddie did not even bother trying to follow the conversation at the table. He was too focused on trying to find his secret admirer to pay attention to the other boys. Half the day, he had been tormented by the question for knowledge. But how was he supposed to narrow this down when everyone just wanted to buy drugs off of him off school property, and hate him on it for the status quo?

This was going to be near impossible and- hey wait a second. Eddie caught distant eyes across the lunchroom before they ducked back down to stare at her lunch in front of her. A pretty girl that he had unfortunately never learned the name of, but definitely had a little crush on, was staring at him. But before he could do anything, she was finishing up with her lunch and leaving the room. It was now or never. She had always been nice to him, but they truly had never spoken longer than saying hello, or excuse me.

Leaving behind his measly few snacks, and friends, Eddie rushed after her towards the hallways outside the cafeteria. Skidding his high tops to a halt, he tried to think of something, anything, to grab her attention.

“Hey, elfie!” As soon as he said it, Eddie cringed. Hey, elfie? That was the best his brain could come up with.

Surprisingly, it worked, because she did stop. And she did turn around. Taking a couple steps towards the now stunned boy, her lips trailed up in a smirk. “Elfie?”

“I…uh, well-” Eddie stammered, “I didn’t know you’re name, and uh-”

“It’s fine. I’ve been called worse.” She finally put him out of his misery and offered her name up to him. Eddie could not help but let the name wash over his tongue a time or two before responding.

“Um… you are the one who did the candy- gram for me though, right? And, and the rose?” He asked hesitantly, holding out the flower as if to prove that he had received it.

Looking away, a fierce took over her cheeks. “Well, I just… I thought I would do something nice for you.” It was now her time to stammer.

“Uh, gesture received.” Eddie could not think of anything else to say without risking sounding stupid in front of this girl. And yet, he somehow mustered the courage. “Did you mean what you said? On the candy- gram, that is. About a Dungeons and Dragons date? With me?”

“If that’s alright with you. We can make characters and backstories. Or just geek out over lore. Most people won’t let me play because I’m a girl but I still love the world building aspect.” Her rambles were cut off when she suddenly could smell his cologne closer. It was not a bad smell either; rather one that she could enjoy a lot.

Surging together his last bit of courage before it left his body, Eddie blurted out, “are you free tomorrow night?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “Just gotta knock out some homework but yeah.”

“Could I take you out on a date? The diner on the outskirts is where I usually go since they let me stay so long as I’m nursing a milkshake. We could compare DnD books, if you’d like.” Eddie continued, felling the back of his neck get hot.

“I’d like that.” She replied. “Here. Do you have something I can write on?”

Without thinking, he offered her his bare left arm. Another giggle left her as she broke out a pen to write down a string of numbers. “That’s my house phone. Call me tonight and we can go over details, okay Eddie?”

“Yeah.” He said, sounding breathless.

“Okay. Well, bye.” Smiling at him once more, and in a bold move of confidence, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning, and leaving deeper into the school.

“Hey,” Munson called once more, causing her to turn. “Where you going?”

“The drama class. I paint backgrounds.”

“Give me three seconds, and I’ll walk you. Hopefully?” He inquired.

“Don’t keep me waiting long.” She confirmed, watching as he rushed into the cafeteria.

This was going to go well. She just had a feeling that this would be her year. Maybe Eddie’s too.

[deesseshesca]

PILE 1

His veiny hands, his strong bicep, his tattoo and the fact that everything he does screams masculinity. He’s amazing knowledge in alcohol or the fucking way he drive a car with so much assurance. His signature perfume and the way he never talks loud but always what's right. Did you ever find a man in finance this secure in himself with no God complex…yeah no that doesn't exist. But it's only right that he feels for you. The more I spend time observing you … I understand why he's falling… I am 2 .. I guess. Let’s start by the creativity that breathes out of you with everything you do. Is like you are in love with the whole woman's experience which can be seen by the way you take care of your hair ; long and healthy. You don't just stop there, you color them and style it  anytime you want. The freckles that decorate your face like you are living painting. Your perfect nose and small but luscious lips. Is the way you are fine not being everyone's type and you don't care to change. You with your long and beautifully manicured nails. The way you love on your body unapologetically even though is not the standard in modern beauty. You never complain about your boobs being too big, your butt being too small or even your hips being too wide. Nah you wear whatever you want. Flowing dress, deep cut shirt with no bra not caring that your tits are sagging. What makes you even more intrigued is the complexity that lives beneath your beauty, elegance and confidence. You fucking love cars, passionate about it. I would have never guessed it, I would think you were an artist or even a mua but nah mamacita is trying to become an engineer. Is almost like life never hurted, never controlled, never took the best out of you. You decide to be your own person no matter what and your authenticity can be seen, admired, and envy by many including me. In my case I was pushed into this bimbo character. Need to act, look and be always be perfect since I could remember. Making sure to eat properly so I don't gain to much weight, making sure to message my skin so my boob dont sag, make sure to shave everywhere on my body, make sure to straighten my curls because curly ain't sexy, making sure to never skip a leg day so the butt stay juicy, making sure to have a clear skin. And it does not stop there … making sure I moan seductively, make sure I know how suck good, making sure I am submissive enough. I did it all to please … the one I want, stay unimpressed while the other treats me like lesser women because all they can think of is having sex. Actually you guys are so cute together, the way you like to act like you don't see him applying  pressure. Always touching you any chance he gets, always looking at you across the room, always having your back when you need a ride back home even when the party's at his place. While you tease him, give him kisses across his face every so often, while giving him compliments with your beautiful voice, seducing him with your healthy femininity. Today, in the bathroom, too many drink in my system, hiding while writing this fucking email … I must admit that you have influence me. Because the man I love, loves you for you. Not a version of you made to please, made to seduce, made to only be relevant for the other sex. Maybe it is time for me to admit that all this is in vain … because being the standard did not make me pick, choose or even love. In all fucking honesty I am tired to prove that I am nice enough, fun enough, sexy enough, kind enough … Fuck… can I not just be enough ? (tears on the screen, somebody calls her name) 

Fuck is not like you are even going to read this anyways…

VIBES: New beginning, fresh start, new couple, love at first sight, red string theory, cant get enough of each other, a lot of tension, chemistry and perfect match. 

A lot of people are happy y’all find each other because you were both unfulfilled in love.

[fall0utmind]

hi, i used a translator when i wrote this text, so if there are any mistakes, please forgive me 🙏we probably have one brain for the whole fandom, because i'm also hatching an idea with an a/b/o au in my head.my main idea was similar to yours with all the pain and illness, but in addition to the main focus on the relationship between vale and marc, i also wanted to write about marc's pack.his pack, consisting of young boys with whom he trains and cares for. for example, dani holgado, is definitely an alpha. looks at marc as an example, as someone to look up to. david alonso, i don't know, most likely also an alpha (for the sake of the plot lol). fermin aldeguer could be a beta. and of course maximo quiles, marc's protégé, omega. a hot-tempered boy looking at david with loving eyes.(all the boys look at him with such tenderness) I think they fit your idea perfectly.Marc, who is not a member of any packs except for the family one and is only the unofficial head of the pack of these boys. They are like his children to him.In the 2025 season, when all his guys are either in moto2 or moto3, they need his support, help and advice (they need to be held in the evenings after falls or when they are on the verge of a rut/heat) (this is in addition to his own season) and he has no time to think about his inner omega.I think this would be so different from the relationship between Vale and his academies, where the alpha of the pack is support in the media, a firm hand on the shoulder and distraction from all problems through entertainment.And Marc is soft with everyone, a support for them (he does not run away from problems, but solves them). the boys always know that they can come to him: he can listen to them or understand without words, teach them to stand up for themselves, give advice on how to take a certain turn on the track or what to choose as the first gift for courtship (or from what angle to look at the alpha))well, here is the true omega of the pack.another scene before his eyes - the day before the public loss of consciousness. maybe this is maximo, before the third race on the calendar on saturday - his first moto3 race because he just turned 17 the other day. he lies close to marc in his camper, burying his face close to the neck of the older omega. in his arms he feels like he is on the clouds, sometimes he does not finish some sentences, but marc understands everything and answers him with a laugh. perhaps before this grand prix, the boys gathered in their little pack and, he does not know for how many times, discussed that marc does not smell of anything. nothing at all. they asked alex a long time ago, but he never answered them.and max awkwardly asks about it, when before that he had been mumbling about David and his unique overtakes in his first year in moto2 for about 7 minutes non-stop, feeling how Marc relaxed. and literally three seconds later he regrets it, when Marc's breathing rhythm gets out of whack and how his shoulders tense under his grip. but the man only grabs the kid tighter and tells in general terms what happened between him and Vale, choosing only soft expressions, without hatred, sadness or pity.and the next day after the victory he faints. imagine Maximo's face lolin any case, thank you for your creativity and for your brain. not only is every word of yours read in one breath, you are also a very nice person. thank you ❤️

Hi, firstly, I'm so in awe of everyone on this app when English isn't their first language. You all make me feel so stupid 😂😂 so never apologise for that.

Secondly, what a lovely message!!!

Omg!!! Im so excited?? We all have a million a/b/o ideas and it's fantastic!!! I love that for us!

Wow! I never even considered that, it's so good??? The idea of Marc having this little gaggle of boys (borderline men) following him around like ducklings because he's like the main/pack omega (and he should be for the whole paddock) - i love it. I think there's so much room to work with in that dynamic. Like you said, the way the boys look up to him, how they need to be looked after when they've fallen or when they're about to enter heat/rut cycles. And marc is 100% being a mother hen. He doesn't even realise that he's doing it half the time? Like sitting with all the boys over lunch, giving advice, talking to them after a bad race, squished onto the motorhone sofas.

In one way, it's healing for his omega. But another is ruining him. Because it's suppressing so much that he isn't actually bonded to these kids, not on a biological level. He doesn't scent with them, etc, because he doesn't do it with ANYONE. (Post reconcilliation, he does. And they become his pups basically). These kids are clinging onto him and it hurts so bad because he doesn't actually have that connection with them 💔💔

Omg, and yes, the idea of Marc, an omega, by definition, being head of a pack. He is the one they always come to for advice, direction, and love. I especially love the comparisons to the VR46 pack. I think it would be really different. I think a. It is not a true 'pack' because of Marc's issues (although they act like one, and the boys desperately want it to be one, but don't want to push marc, just sometimes pile into his motorhome and lie on Marc's bed, confused about why there's no nest; leaving their clothes in Marc's space, he secretly hoards them for comfort).

The boys asking marc what happened omg 💔😭 marc telling them, but only the bare bones as he knows they look up to Vale and he doesn't want to ruin that, also he doesn't want to hurt/scare them because he's FINE, damn it. And then how they react when marc gets sick, can you imagine the fear? The anger they have at Valentino, but they feel so powerless because they're young and in lower leagues and UGH. God I love this idea so much. Love the dynamic, its very cute.

Thank you so much for the ask and for the kind words!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[fairytales-and-folklore]

My Friend Thinks You're Cute

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: My Friend Thinks You're Cute

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: And that's when Stiles sees him, standing in the middle of the crowd, swathed in a black leather jacket, eyes alight as he flashes Stiles the most dazzlingly perfect smile. Derek The Music Major. The guy Stiles has had a massive crush on ever since they shared a class together in Stiles's freshman year. The guy who went on to graduate later that spring and leave town to go on tour with his band. The guy who composed such beautiful music that it made Stiles fall even more stupidly in love with him. The guy who wrote the lyrics to the song he's currently up on stage singing motherfucking karaoke to. So yeah, Stiles is pretty sure he's going to kill his best friends for dragging him along to this party.

"This is my friend. He loves your work. Big fan," McCall informs him, gesturing to the mortified guy with the adorably disheveled dark brown hair, wide brown eyes, and a blush as deep as his scarlet jacket. "Also, he thinks you're cute," McCall adds, a big goofy grin spreading across his face. "And I'm like 98% sure he's thought of you naked."

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr:

So yeah, Stiles is pretty sure he's going to kill his best friends. After two long, exhausting weeks of relentless badgering, Stiles had finally given in and agreed to accompany Scott and Danny to their stupid goddamn dorm party. He'd figured, fuck it, he's a senior, he's so close to graduation he can almost taste it, he can abandon his studies for one Saturday night and try to have a good time.

What he hadn't factored in was his meddling, dumbass friends dragging him up on stage and announcing to the whole room that he was the next karaoke performance of the night. Rolling his eyes at Scott and Danny's cheers, jeers, and catcalls, Stiles makes his way over to the monitor and begins flipping through their song selection. The overwhelming majority of it is early 2000's garbage with a few 80's power ballads and 90's pop remixes thrown in, and just when Stiles is about to resign himself to performing Bye Bye Bye or Don't Stop Believing in front of a crowd of judgmental drunken college kids, he comes across a newer track he'd never expected to find in a karaoke lineup.

"Uh, hi," Stiles winces as the microphone gives an ear piercing screech, and the crowd grumbles and groans. "So, most of you probably haven't even heard of this song. The band's kind of new, only really started gaining traction about two or three years ago, I think? Fun fact for out-of-towners, their lead guitarist actually grew up in Beacon Hills and went to this school. He also wrote the song I'm about to perform, which I've heard, like, dozens of times on some pretty popular radio stations, so I guess that means there's hope out there for the rest of us art students. Anyway, here's my horribly butchered rendition of the song Triskelion by The Alphas."

Sweating bullets, Stiles clicks play and cradles the microphone in the palms of his shaking hands, eyes fixed resolutely to the monitor, not daring to look at the audience. The monitor displays an error message and gives him the blue screen of death, refusing to let the lyrics scroll across the screen, but it doesn't really matter, because Stiles knows them all by heart. 

The overhead lights cast the stage in a golden glow, blinding Stiles to the surrounding world so that the crowd is just a sea of blurred faces. For a moment, he can pretend that it's just him, alone in his dorm room, or in the driver's seat of his powder blue Jeep with the radio on full blast, and really give it his all. So he does. Stiles sings his heart out. And it's actually…well, not great, but not terrible, either. Much to his surprise, everyone starts cheering him on, singing at the top of their lungs along with him, and Stiles is delighted by the fact that they all seem to share his love for his favorite band.

And that's when Stiles sees him, standing in the middle of the crowd, swathed in a black leather jacket, eyes alight as he flashes Stiles the most dazzlingly perfect smile. Derek The Music Major. The guy Stiles has had a massive crush on ever since they shared a class together in Stiles's freshman year. The guy who went on to graduate later that spring and leave town to go on tour with his band.The guy who composed such beautiful music that it made Stiles fall even more stupidly in love with him when he happened upon one of his live performances on YouTube the following summer. The guy who wrote the lyrics to the song he's currently up on stage singing motherfucking karaoke to. Derek Hale, Beacon Hills sweetheart, local legend, and international rising star. Derek Hale, lead guitarist of The Alphas.

Oh

My

God

It's a feat of fucking heroics and sheer dumb luck that keeps Stiles's voice steady until the very end of the song, and then he's bolting off the stage and colliding face-first with a wall of muscle in the shape of his two best friends.

"Hey man, you did great up there!" Scott beams at him, his smile so warm and sincere, so filled with pride, that Stiles finds it difficult to stay mad at him. Stiles has known Scott since kindergarten, and he's pretty damn sure that Scott is an actual ray of sunshine in human form.

…and then there's Danny.

"Seriously, Stilinski. That was pretty damn impressive," Danny agrees with an air of genuine surprise. And honestly, coming from Danny, that's like, god-tier praise. If Stiles wasn't freaking the fuck out, he'd probably take a moment to bask in it, ask if he can get it writing, and then gloat so hard it sours Danny's mood and makes him threaten to take it back.

"Dude, you are not going to believe who I just saw," Stiles exclaims, one hand gripping each of their shoulders so that they're just standing there in the middle of the common room like an awkward triangle. 

"So, you remember that guy that— oh my god, there he is," Stiles groans, bolting side to side in a panicked attempt to duck behind a corner, but as tragedy would have it, there aren't any corners in the epicenter of a room. Why aren't there ever any corners when you actually need them? Why do corners only ever seem to exist when you're in a rush and you're not paying attention and you bash your face into an inconveniently placed patch of hard plaster? There should at least be a column, or a couch, or something. In the end, he figures using Scott and Danny as a human shield is as good a hiding place as any.

"Can you fucking not," Danny growls as Stiles all but claws at his neck to peer over his shoulder. "Who are you even—"

Danny squints in the direction of a dark-haired man with hazel eyes and a chiseled jaw peppered with five o'clock shadow, backed into a far corner of the room, smiling awkwardly as a gaggle of fans bombard him with photo ops and autographs.

"Is that who I think it is?" Danny gasps dramatically, and there's something in the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, like he's enjoying a private joke, that makes Stiles quirk an eyebrow.

"Holy shit," Scott exclaims, eyes widening in theatrical surprise. "It's Derek The Music Major!"

"Yeah, well, it's Derek the fucking sex god rock star now, isn't it?" Stiles practically moans, scrubbing his hands through his hair and burying his face into Scott's shoulder. "Ugh, he's even more unattainable than he was before. How is that even possible? And like, more to the point, why is he even here?"

"Oh, uh…" Scott's voice rises a half octave, a telltale sign that he's about to lie through his teeth and make it sound casual. "I think Derek's cousin goes here. Miguel, or something."

Stiles lifts his head up, eyes narrowed in suspicion as he fixes Scott with a scrutinizing glare. Scott keeps his gaze resolutely glued to the floor, looking for all the world like a guilt-ridden golden retriever who'd just been caught digging in the garden.

"What," Stiles spits, an entire world's emphasis on the t.

"What?" Scott and Danny ask in mirrored tones of mock innocence.

"You…you guys knew he was going to be here, didn't you?" Stiles sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"We…might have heard something about that," Danny offers around an infuriatingly amused little chuckle.

"We overheard Miguel talking about it a couple of weeks ago," Scott bursts out, physically incapable of keeping this a secret for even a second longer. "Apparently, Derek and his bandmates are back in town for the summer, and they got invited to come and perform at his cousin's friend's party. This party."

"And you guys thought it would be a great idea for me to go up on stage and make an ass out of myself…singing one of Derek's songs…in front of Derek," Stiles says slowly, his tone positively drenched in quietly seething sarcasm.

"Relax," Danny says, rolling his eyes. "What we did was get you noticed."

"Yeah, man," Scott jumps in with a barely contained goofy grin, trying and failing to look solemn and apologetic. "He was totally checking you out. It was so obvious."

"Didn't you see the way he kept smiling at you?" Danny asks.

"He was probably laughing his ass off at the dipshit butchering the fuck out of one of his songs," Stiles whines, smacking his head repeatedly into the side of Scott's shoulder.

"Ugh, you're impossible," Scott groans, rolling his eyes and fixing Danny with a pleading sort of look.

"Yeah, look, this whole pity party thing you're got going on? It's boring," Danny scoffs, wrenching Stiles away from his makeshift hiding place and clapping both hands on either side of his shoulders. 

"You've been sweet on the guy for like, what…three and a half years now? If you won't take the chance and finally introduce yourself, then—" Danny pauses, peering over Stiles's shoulder to stare resolutely at Scott, seconds passing as the two of them share some kind of bizarre, silent conversation over the top of Stiles's head that ends with Danny setting his lips into a determined line and giving Scott a curt nod.

"Scotty," he says with a melodramatic sigh. "I think it's about time we take matters into our own hands."

"Just like we rehearsed?" Scott replies with a crooked smile. Without warning, Scott and Danny each grab a hold of one of Stiles's arms and start marching him toward Derek's corner of the room. The ruckus of muffled shouting and flailing limbs that it causes scatters the crowd of fawning fans, clearing a direct path. 

Derek quirks an eyebrow as he stares back and forth between the three of them, taking in the perplexing but not altogether unwelcome sight of a guy with adorably disheveled dark brown hair, wide brown eyes, and a blush as deep as his scarlet jacket, sandwiched in between two thoroughly amused smirking faces. 

The guy in the middle swallows thickly, and Derek watches with spellbound awe as his Adam's apple bounces along the curves of his mole-and-freckle-dappled throat. His eyes glaze over as he imagines, for the briefest of seconds, what it might be like to graze his teeth along those curves. The sound of someone's voice breaks him out of his wandering thoughts, and Derek shakes his head as if to clear it.

"Hi," the guy on the right with the crooked smile and kind eyes addresses him. Name's McCall, if memory serves him. Derek vaguely remembers seeing the name printed across his jersey on the rare occasion he'd managed to make it to one of his cousin's lacrosse games.

"This is my friend," McCall informs him, gesturing to the mortified guy in the middle. And this is must be…Stilinski, #24, Derek muses. Spends more time on the bench than out on the field. "He loves your work. Big fan."

Instinctively, Derek goes into Greeting Your Fans mode, smiles politely, and prepares himself for another flash of a camera, but then—

"Also, he thinks you're cute," McCall adds, a big goofy grin spreading across his face. "And I'm like 98% sure he's thought of you naked."

Stilinski splutters, turning toward McCall with a manic look in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm 110% sure," the guy to the left confirms with a barely contained smirk. Mahealani. This one, Derek definitely knows. Miguel won't outright admit it, but he's got a bit of a thing for this guy. Blushes every time he walks by. "I literally walked in on him once while he was—"

"Anyway," McCall interjects, clapping a hand over Mahealani's mouth, eyes growing wide as he realizes, albeit a bit too late, that that may have been taking it too far. "We're gonna go, and leave you two to get better acquainted."

"You're dead to me!" Stiles calls after them in a playful sing-song voice as his traitorous friends swagger off in the direction of the pong table, cackling madly, twin shit-eating grins plastered across their faces. Cheekbones prickling with the equivalent of an instant sunburn, Stiles slowly turns back toward Derek.

"Well," he says with mock cheerfulness, stuffing his fists into the pockets of his dark red jacket. "I'm gonna go find the nearest bridge and jump off. Nice meeting you."

He makes to turn away, but Derek reaches out and places a hand across his shoulder, hoping to stop him.

"Wait," he says. "Please don't be embarrassed. Honestly, that was funny as fuck, and I am, like, so beyond flattered. Can I at least know your name?"

Stiles pauses, sets his lips into a hard, thin line, turns back to face Derek, resolutely avoiding having to look directly at him, and sighs.

"It's Stiles," he says.

"Derek," he replies jovially, extending a hand for Stiles to shake, ridiculously formal.

"I know, dude," Stiles laughs, rolling his eyes. "You're like, super famous."

Derek gives a half-hearted shrug, like he genuinely hadn't even noticed, and says, "Yeah, I guess…but am I cute? Your friends said you thought I was cute."

Stiles barks out a laugh, hastily covering up his mouth with the back of his hand. He rearranges his features into something akin to casual indifference, and says, "I mean…I guess you could say that."

Derek laughs, quirking an appraising eyebrow as his gaze flits across Stiles's face, lingering at the curves of his collarbones just visible beneath a pale blue form-fitting henley, before dipping down to admire the cut of his torso. Stiles swallows thickly.

"You're cute, too," Derek says, his smile warm and genuine. "And you've got a nice voice."

Stiles's eyes widen. Oh fuck. That's right. Motherfucking karaoke.

"Oh my god, shut up, no I don't," Stiles laughs, shaking his head as he shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket, absentmindedly kicking the toes of his sneakers into the hardwood floor.

"No, I'm serious. You were great," Derek insists. Stiles chances a look up at him, heart leaping into his throat at the sweet sincerity he finds there. And then—

"You look so familiar," Derek says with a sudden, sharp intake of breath, head tilted to the side, brows furrowed in concentration as he scrutinizes the details of Stiles's face. "Have we met before?"

"Econ 311," Stiles replies with a shaky sigh.

"Oh my god, that's right!" Derek exclaims, realization dawning on him. "You were that smart-mouthed little shit who always got on Finstock's last nerve. Man, that guy hated you."

Well, Stiles muses, there are definitely worse ways to be remembered.

"I like to think we had a love/hate relationship," Stiles chuckles, delighted over the simple joy of having made Derek laugh.

"Yeah, I thought that was you. Didn't recognize you at first without the buzzcut," Derek reminisces. "You were pretty cute back then, too."

"Yeah, okay," Stiles quips with a hollow laugh. "There's no way in hell a guy like you ever looked twice at a guy like me."

A frustrated crease sets into Derek's forehead, lips twisted into a frown as his eyes bore into Stiles's, studying him like he's a puzzle he can't quite figure out. And what a ridiculous moment this is for Stiles to notice just how thick and full Derek's eyelashes are, to become mesmerized by the honest to god sparkle that dances in his irises like a goddamn Disney prince.

"So," Derek says after a moment, ripping Stiles out of his reverie. "How did I look?"

"Sorry, what?" Stiles shakes his head, genuinely confused.

"Your friends also said that you've thought about me naked," Derek says with a casual shrug, but the Cheshire Cat grin that spreads across his face is anything but. "Did I look good?"

Stiles's eyes widen in shock. Scarlet paints the pulse points across the hollow of his cheekbones and the base of his throat in bright, angry blotches. He opens his mouth, willing the perfect string of words to come and save him from the nightmare of a plot twist this conversation has taken, but all that comes out is a series of high pitched squeaking.

"Damn. That good, huh?" Derek bites his lower lip, and Stiles about dies, because it is simultaneously the hottest and most adorable thing he's ever seen in his entire life.

"Well, I hope I live up to your expectations," Derek sighs around a barely contained smirk, and the blue screen of death flashes across Stiles's mind. "You wanna go out for coffee sometime, see where this goes?"

What?

What?!

This can't actually be happening. There's no way in hell this is real. This is the part where Stiles wakes up, and realizes that it was all a dream. 

Derek pauses, eyebrows raised, waiting for his response. A string of unintelligible nonsense tumbles out of Stiles's mouth, none of it any actual words.

Derek chuckles softly, rummaging through the pockets of his leather jacket before withdrawing a bright blue pen, and scrawling his number on the back of Stiles's hand. Derek's fingertips curl into the palm of his hand, and Stiles forgets how to breathe.

"Give me a call if you're interested," Derek says, flashing Stiles a positively radiant smile and giving his hand an affectionate squeeze, before turning on his heel and sauntering off in the direction of his beckoning bandmates.

Seconds later, Scott and Danny emerge from out of the shadows, clapping Stiles on the back and ruffling his hair, chanting a resounding chorus of I told you so.

"You're welcome," Danny says with a smug smile. 

"And now it's my turn," he says, taking off in hot pursuit of Derek's cousin.

[lemotmo]

I’m curious to see the response Ryan gives for his personal thoughts on what’s going on between Buck and Eddie.

But at the same time I’m not excited for the melt down it’ll probably cause since he still can’t give anything away so people are gonna end up dooming 💀😂

Listen, at this point I've given up on asking people to use their common sense. We've been saying this over and over again, but for some reason there are always people that will see the worst in these interviews and who spiral and doompost afterwards.

What do they possibly expect Ryan to say? He can't just come out and say:

"Hey everyone! Guess what?! Eddie is gay!!! And he desperately wants to bone Buck!!!! WHAT ABOUT THAT BUCK AND EDDIE THING HUH?!!!! YOLO!!! LOL!!!"

So yes, he'll skirt around the topic and he'll say some deep and meaningful things about the Buddie friendship and how important it is for Eddie. I expect him to tease a little and give some vague answers, but that's really the only thing he can say. 🤷‍♀️

And like clockwork, people over on Twitter will start yelling that he is baiting them. Pffff, seriously-- if it wasn't for some good sources, I would have deleted Twitter ages ago.

The influx of some newer fans (both BT and Buddie) when Buck came out as bi has made the 911 fandom a worse place to be in my opinion. Some of these people are ruthless. The way they talk to professional journalists is appalling and downright rude. I always have so much second-hand embarrassment when I read some of their comments.

((I'd like to make a note here that I'm not talking about ALL new people in fandom, just some of them and most are over on Twitter. I've met a lot of lovely new people here on Tumblr who know how to behave normally and who are genuinly excited to join this fandom. Welcome to all of you!!! Seriously!!! It's nice to have some new voices and fresh input.))

As the second anon said, some of them were almost threatening Jeff Conway, telling him that the fandom would be upset with him if the interview didn't give them what they wanted. I mean... WTF?! This guy interviewed an actor of a TV-show. He is only going to write about what Ryan said. This isn't life and death here! It's just a silly little TV-show interview!

This isn't even about fandom etiquette anymore. It goes beyond that! This is about human decency. Just because you are online and anonymous, doesn't mean that you get to act like a total *sshole towards an entertainment journalist or towards actors and other fans for that matter. I have seen some vile Ryan hatred on Buddie-Twitter. Safe to say I blocked all of them.

I truly don't get it. How were these people raised? Didn't their parents or guardians ever talk to them about kindness and decency? Did some of them grow up with social media without any kind of supervision and somehow it desensitized them to normal human behaviour and social cues? What went wrong?!

I don't know you guys. Maybe I sound old to some of you.🤷‍♀️ But I've been in fandom spaces for a very long time now, so I know what I'm talking about.

Whenever I speak up about something like this, I get messages in my inbox calling me a 'boomer'. I didn't know that asking for simple human decency and politeness made someone a 'boomer', but if that is the case, I'll gladly take that title. Because some of these fans' behaviour on Twitter is seriously getting out of hand.

So really, the message here is: Stay away from stan-Twitter if you can, but if you like it there (no judgement 😋 You do you!) do make sure to block wisely, even within the Buddie fandom if necessary. Don't share, reply or make screenshots, because none of us should condone or share these people's shitty behaviour.