#she may let him top her if she is in the mood

[belladonazeppole]

Poseidon the God of Bottoms

*Telling Pytix why is a good idea for them to marry* Poseidon: Cause your pretty and your smart, and your ignoring me so your obviously my type. Pytix, who was distracted: I'm sorry- what were you saying? Poseidon: Perfect. *** Zeus: I like your top, Poseidon! Pytix, no fucks to give: I have a name, you know. Hera: *sighs* Why. Why are you like this. *** Pytix: *sucking on a popsicle* Asmodeus: Pfft, you practicing for when Poseidon gets here? Pytix: *takes a huge ass bite out of the popsicle* Akaboshi & Alvah: Nice. Adamas: *Concern* Poseidon: *Turn on* *** Poseidon, trying to be romantic: You look good in that corset. Poseidon: You know where else I'd look good? Pytix, zero hesitation: Your bed. Poseidon, at the same time: By your side- wait, what? *** *After Poseidon is excepcional mean with Adamas and Zeus* Adamas: Is there a cactus where your heart should be? Zeus: What’s up your ass this morning! Pytix: *walks in* ...Hey. Hades: Hmm… nevermind. Poseidon: WAIT NO!

[navybrat817]

Feeling in a mood today. Would you consider some angst with Bucky? You can ignore!

I feel like angst isn't my forte, nonnie, but I'll try?

Stood Up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky asks you out on a date and doesn't show.

Word Count: Almost 1.2k

Warnings: Angst, sadness, insecurities, embarrassment

A/N: This may get a Part 2. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You chose a simple black dress for your first date with Bucky. It wasn't too dressy or over the top, but still nice enough that you hoped it caught his attention. If the sight of you could put a soft smile on his face and warmth in his stunning blue eyes you'd consider it a win. Maybe he'd even tell you how beautiful you looked.

But your date was supposed to start almost an hour ago, and he still hadn't arrived.

You perked up when you looked toward the door, only to feel disappointed yet again when it wasn't Bucky who walked in. Checking your phone, you scrolled back through the messages. You had texted him earlier in the week to be on the safe side and he confirmed all of the needed date information; date, time, restaurant. You arrived at the right place at the right time on the right date. It was all you looked forward to this week.

You thought Bucky was looking forward to it as well since his last message was, “Can't wait to see you, doll.”

The sergeant looked almost nervous when he asked you to grab dinner with him. You were pretty sure he ran a hand through his hair three times before he got the question out. But the way his eyes lit up when you said yes, it was a look you’d never forget.

“It’s a date,” he had smiled, your heart fluttering. “Maybe we can go dancing after? Or we can dance in one of our apartments? Or we can play it by ear.”

“I’ll wear my best dancing shoes.”

You were trying to stay optimistic that he would show, but the knots in your stomach tightened when you realized he still hadn't replied to your follow up messages since you got to the restaurant. Did he have to take a last minute mission and couldn't let you know? Was he just running late? Or did he simply change his mind about the date?

“Where are you, Bucky?” you whispered, praying he wasn't hurt or worse.

The server cautiously approached your table once you set your phone down. “Is there anything I can get for you?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m fine,” you forcefully smiled, gesturing to the untouched glass of wine in front of you. “I’m still… waiting,” you added, your voice cracking on the last word.

A look of pity crossed the server’s face. Maybe you were imagining it, but you felt other eyes on you, too. You didn't want their sympathy or anything else for that matter. “Please let me know if you need anything.”

You managed a nod and nothing more, your eyes burning as you blankly stared at the menu. It didn't make sense. Bucky wasn't the kind of man to stand someone up. He wouldn't leave you in the middle of a restaurant by yourself without a good reason. Right?

Your hands shook when it went past the hour mark and you typed one more message to Bucky. “I’m still at the restaurant and worried since you aren't here. I hope you're okay.”

It took another fifteen minutes for it to finally sink in that Bucky wasn't coming. As much as you didn't want it to, it hurt. So much. Luck wasn't on your side when it came to relationships, but you thought this would be different because, well, Bucky was different. You should've known better though. You should've known him asking you on a date was too good to be true.

The server made eye contact with you across the room and quickly made her way over when you took out your wallet. “Oh, that glass is on the house. Unless there's anything else I can get for you?”

“Oh. Um. Thanks.” The gesture brought tears to your eyes, and you wished you could bury yourself in the ground then and there. “I don't need anything else, but I still owe you a tip for taking up the table for over an hour,” you said, leaving some cash on the table and giving her one last smile as you stood up on shaky legs. “Have a good night.”

“Ouch. Stood up. Been there before.”

“Oh, shit. I think she’s crying.”

“Poor thing. She was sitting down before we got here.”

The whispers from the patrons were practically screams in your ears as you left, and you had to steady yourself once you got outside. The cool air did nothing to soothe you, and wiping your cheeks didn't stop the tears from falling. Humiliation aside, your heart ached. Putting yourself out there wasn't easy, but this sort of rejection hurt more than a firm “no”.

Worry seeped in because you didn't want to believe Bucky would do this on purpose. What went wrong? Why didn't he show up? There had to be a reasonable explanation.

You dialed his number, your heart stopping when his voicemail popped up after a few seconds. “Hey, this is Bucky. Leave me a message.”

You cleared your throat to speak. “Hey. It’s me. I waited for you… at the restaurant, but I guess… I guess you just couldn't make it, so I'm heading home.” You paused to sniffle and prayed he wouldn't catch it if he listened. “Can you just… let me know you're okay? Please, Bucky?” you asked, hanging up before you could say more.

The little optimism you had left faded completely when you checked your messages one last time. The messages had gone from delivered to read. He got them and didn't respond. Not one single word. He just… ignored you.

Maybe everything was fine with him after all and he realized you weren't good enough to go on a date with.

Choking on a small sob, you tucked your phone away. You didn't bother with a cab. The walk could help clear your head. You didn't care if the distance would ruin your shoes. It wasn't like you had anyone to dance with tonight or any other night.

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered to yourself, curling in on yourself as you walked. It hurt, but you’d be fine. You'd suck it up, put a smile on your face, and convince everyone that all was well because that was the way it had to be.

But how would you face Bucky come Monday? You still cared about him, but how would you be able to look him in the eye and hide the hurt you felt from being left all alone in that restaurant? How would you move forward together if he didn't want you?

No, not together. There was no togetherness at the moment since Bucky stood you up. He clearly didn't want you. Maybe he never did and he only asked you out as a fluke or some obligation so people would stop trying to set him up.

You wiped at your cheeks again. The unknown was going to keep your mind racing until he told you why he didn't show. He owed you some sort of explanation.

But tonight, you'd walk home alone with a heavy heart and hoped that whatever Bucky was doing that he was okay.

I need a happy ending for them immediately. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ssahotchnerr]

hi my love!! how are you?🩷

i saw your requests are open and i wanted to ask for more jealous!aaron if you’re up for it! maybe one of the girls (probably jj or penelope) set up reader on a date and they are talking about it on the jet ride home from a case. she’s not too sure about it but wants to give it a chance…rossi and derek are hyping her up too maybe! and our man aaron is just watching thinking he’s lost his chance but little does he know she’s only going to try and get him out of her mind.

wishful thinking

these kinda plots >>> 💓 cw; bau!reader, sooo much mutual pining (they're both idiots), a touch of jealous!aaron, slight angst wc; 1k

part two

You weren't being too subtle.

As the others were settling down, getting situated for the ride home, your priorities laid elsewhere; admiring Aaron and the handsome, beautiful, handsome features he possessed.

The way his cowlicks were tousled gently over his forehead, just begging to swept back. His chiseled jawline, one your hand yearned to span across. His enviously long eyelashes. His lips-

Penelope suddenly sitting next to you pulled you from your trance, causing you to jump. It had been one of those rare instances she was needed in the field, offering her specialities on sight rather than stationed back in Quantico.

The expression she bared was rather eager, complete with a pair of googly eyes.

You laughed shakily, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks - hoping your longing stare hadn't actually gone noticed, "May I help you?"

"So," Her grin widened, "are you excited!?"

You grimaced slightly as your mood instantly deflated. You uneasily crossed a leg over the other, "I don't know."

"Excited for what?" Morgan inputted from above; headphones in hand, twirling the headband in a circle around his index finger.

You offered a sigh in response, so Penelope took the initiative to answer for you.

"You know James Cameron? From Homeland Security?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He's expressed quite the interest in our fellow crime fighter." Penelope's excited grin turned back towards yourself, also nudging you with an elbow. "And so I've honorably claimed the role of Cupid and someone," More wistful eyes pointed at you, "has a date Saturday night."

"He's a catch." JJ expressed enthusiastically, dramatizing a swoon as she sat across from the two of you. "Tall, dark, handsome."

"I can vouch I've heard nothing but good things about him." Morgan teasingly ruffled the hair on the top of your head, "Way to go kid."

You offered a meek smile, squirming ever so slightly in your seat. It took everything in you to not let your gaze drift back elsewhere. "Thanks but... I'm not so sure I want to go."

"What's not to be sure about? He's smokin', successful. It'll be good for you, too. When's the last time you put yourself out there?" JJ pointed out, arching an eyebrow in emphasis.

You shrugged, your chin landing in your palm.

Clearly you couldn't go into the specifics; the truth being you had your eyes on someone else. A particular boss you all shared, sitting just a few feet away.

The whole dating scene, you've been hesitant due to said feelings. The only reason you had truly considered going out - was to get Aaron out of your mind. You've spent countless, sleepless nights thinking about him, picking apart every little interaction; the way he looked at you after you had a breakthrough at a profile, admirable enough to make you want to burst at the seams. Walking alongside him, hands centimeters apart, softly grazing his skin. The concern he showed following an unfortunate brawl with an unsub - he had almost reached out to cradle your face. But, all of which could have been entirely figments of your imagination. Wishful thinking.

But regardless, they had given you the slightest amount of hope. Which is why you waited, but you couldn't do so forever; the probability of you and him - highly unlikely.

You had two choices; to continue holding out for the impossible, or to pursue the realistic.

You peered over at Aaron, consumed entirely by the file in his lap. It didn't appear he was paying attention, and that stung. All things considered.

The truth is, he was, and disliking every single bit of it. While it looked as if he were working, he was merely scribbling on a scrap piece of paper, enough to wear it down and produce a hole; silently brooding and anxiously waiting to hear where the conversation went. The more it carried on, however, the more jealousy burned in the middle of his chest. The two of you were close, you understood him like no one else, but that itself was the issue.

He feared if you got too close, if you really, really knew him, he would damage you somehow. Or worse, you'd end up similarly to Haley - unsatisfied and yearning to leave him behind. And so, he had refrained from being proactive.

In addition, right now, part of him didn't know what hurt more; the fact you were going on a date with someone who wasn't him, or the fact that you hadn't mentioned it.

"I say go for it." Dave offered, "Trust me. I am an expert, after all."

Emily bust out laughing, "Okay."

"What do you think?" You asked over their laughter, your voice detrimentally small. "Hotch?"

Aaron's head lifted, his eyes immediately latching onto yours. It kept circling in his head; You missed your chance. You're missing your chance.

Despite the ongoing internal conflict, one he could resolve in a few simple words, he panicked.

"I don't see a reason not to." He rushed out, your heart plummeting into your stomach at his words. "Of course, don't do anything you're not comfortable with. But there's no harm in seeing if there's a connection."

Even as he spoke, he didn't sound like himself - as if someone else were doing the talking. Extremely feigned, forced. Speaking from his mind rather than his heart.

"Okay," You bit your lip, looking directly at him as you spoke. "I will."

As the others switched topics, your eyes stayed with Aaron's. A silent exchange drifted between the two of you, Spencer's current tangent seemingly miles away. Hurt, betrayal, a touch of something else too.

You exhaled deeply, turning to look out your window.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. Did it?

[sincerelyneo]

hiii can you repost hello angel? as a jaemin girl it was one of my favorite fics everrrr i read it everyday fr😭❤️

hey angel | n.jm

“i come alive when i hear your voice, it’s a beautiful sound”

💿now playing: hey angel by one direction

❯ summary: You're Jaemin's best friend - so of course he loves to call you up late at night and hear your voice. He's definitely not calling because the sound of your voice turns him on - yeah definitely not that.

❯ pairings: jaemin x fem!reader

❯ genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff.

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, slight possessiveness?, begging, praise, heavy use of nicknames, reader uses she/her pronouns, just pure filth tbh, jaemin has a voice kink??

It was late and you were already in bed, snuggled deep and cozy in the sea of your blankets, when your best friend Jaemin called. He’s your closest friend and the person you were more than a little bit in love with — but you’d never risk telling him for fear of it ruining your friendship.

So even though it was late, and you were sleepy, you answered his call. To be fair, he’d answered plenty of your late-night phone calls over the years.

“Hey angel,” Jaemin greets in an eager tone.

You can hear the alcohol in his voice — that and Jaemin only ever used that nickname for you when he’d been drinking. Still, it never fails to send warmth curling through your heart. It felt like it was his way of wrapping you up in his strong arms whilst he wasn’t with you. 

“Annngelll,” your best friend continues in singsong, making you giggle softly. 

Jaemin’s voice sounds rough and gravelly, like he’d been shouting over a crowded bar all night. Which wasn't a surprise since it was his friend Jeno’s birthday tonight. And you knew your charming and extroverted best friend would never pass up the chance of a good time. 

Before you could respond to his greetings, Jaemin’s tone suddenly turned serious. “I missed you tonight.”

“Na Jaemin,” you try to match his quick change of mood, attempting a serious tone. But it was a losing battle as you tried to fight against the smile threatening to let loose at his statement. “You’re drunk—I bet you barely noticed I wasn’t there tonight.”

He grumbles and you hear fabric rustle like he was flopping back on his bed. You can’t help but imagine what he currently looked like: his body probably sprawled out on top of his comforter, the strands of his hair falling into his face as his head propped up on his pillows. He probably had one hand behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand held the phone to his ear.

You know it’s wrong, but your mind wonders if he was still in his clothes from the night or if he’d stripped down—knowing the fact that your best friend liked to sleep in his boxers.

But you were also familiar with intoxicated Jaemin, he likely hadn’t changed out of his clothes yet, too drunk, and tired to care. Still, that didn’t stop you from thinking about your best friend laying in his bed shirtless while he talked to you. 

“I may have had a couple drinks,” he admits grudgingly. “But of course, I missed my angel. I swear—cross my heart and hope to die—I was a good boy tonight,” he says with enough conviction that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re silly, Jaem.” There’s a warmth in your voice, and you have no hope of wiping the smile from your face even if you tried. 

Pulling the phone away from your ear to check the time, you felt bad and ask, “Why are you calling?”

A long, loud sigh came through the phone from your best friend. “I wanted to hear your voice,” he explains after a silent moment.

It was a cute sentiment, making you feel warm all over, and you wished you could talk to him longer. “Jaem,” you start, gentling your voice. “It’s late and you know I have to get up early. So, if that’s all, I’m going to hang up.”

“But I can’t sleep,” he whines, and you could hear the pout in his voice. Without even seeing his face, you knew he was deploying his puppy dog eyes. “Just talk to me for a few minutes, angel, please?”

“Fine,” you say with another sigh, folding instantly at the thought of imagining his gentle expression asking you. He’d learned long ago it was a sure way to make you give in. You’d fallen sucker to Jaemin’s big brown eyes, and he knew exactly how to use them. 

Resigning yourself to being tired at work the next day, you settled deeper into your pillows. Your voice gentle as you got comfortable. “But you can’t hold it against me if I fall asleep,” you warn.

“Deal.” His smugness at getting you to agree so easily was loud and clear through the phone even if you couldn’t see his self-satisfied smile. “How was your day, angel?” he asks as his bed sheets rustled again and you presumed he was settling in too.

Tired, but always happy to talk to your best friend, you told him about your day and complained about why you had to get up early the next morning. Your voice turns softer and sweeter as you get more and more tired. Jaemin’s does the same, getting even deeper and more husky as he told you about his day. Eventually, there was a lull in the conversation, and you were about to tell him good night when he said something that surprised you enough to drag you away from the edge of sleep.

“Have I ever told you how hard your sleepy little voice makes me?” he asks, making a sound like he was biting back a groan. “I love calling you before you fall asleep, but I always gotta rub one out after.”

“Jaemin,” you say, voice going for stern, but not quite hitting the mark since it was still laced with sleepiness. “That is not true.”

“It is!” he insists, sounding more awake by the minute—and you were right there with him. “I’m hard right now.” He makes a soft sound, like a grunt.

Before you could stop yourself, you imagined him— still sprawled out on his bed — but this time he had a bulge in his jeans. In your mind’s eye, Jaemin grips his hard length through his jeans, stroking himself roughly. The thought makes you gasp softly, and you clench your thighs together against a sudden pulse in your core.

Jaemin must’ve heard the sound because you could hear the grin in his voice when he speaks again. “Tell me, angel, are you wearing one of my shirts tonight?” he asks gruffly.

You swallow heavily, trying to buy yourself some time. It felt like crossing a line to admit that you were wearing one of his shirts, but when Jaemim didn’t take the question back, you realise you’d had to answer. 

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Which one?” His voice is rough now, like sandpaper, but oh so eager.

“One of your varsity shirts from college—the one that says ‘Jaemin’ on the back,” you answer, unable to lie to your best friend even if you were a little shy to admit you still sleep in his shirts. You knew you didn’t need to be, since he clearly knew you slept in them. 

“I love it when you wear my shirts, angel,” Jaemin confesses. His tone now warm, like he was grinning and happy. It makes the last of your shyness disappear to hear him say that. 

“It lets everyone know you’re mine.”

“I’m not yours, Jaemin,” you protest half-heartedly. 

You weren’t, even if you desperately wanted to be his in every sense of the word.

“You’re my best friend,” he says, like there was no argument you could come up with to change his mind. “My best girl—that makes you mine.”

“Jaemin,” you exhale. 

You knew he was just talking about friendship, but you wished his words meant something different. You wished he felt the same way for you as you did for him.

“Fuck, say my name like that again,” he begs in a gruff voice. “Makin’ me so damn hard.”

You feel the blush rise to your cheeks and you go flustered, unsure what to do as Jaemin easily crosses lines you’d avoided delicately for years. But you didn’t want him to stop. The sound of his voice saying those things had wetness pooling between your thighs. So, you gave him what he wanted.

“Jaemin,” you repeat his name, voice breathier with your arousal, and he let out a happy hum.

“That’s my girl,” he says followed by a groan that is so low and husky, sending tingles racing through your entire body. “Fuck, I’m so hard,” he moans, a slight strain in his voice. “Do you mind, angel?”

It took a moment for your hazy mind to figure out what he was asking. Then, another to process that he was asking if you were okay with him stroking himself while he was on the phone with you. Your breath caught from a sudden surge of excitement. The voice that typically stops you from crossing the line with your best friend was conveniently quiet and all that was left was your need for him.

“I-I don’t mind, Jaem,” you answer softly, trying not to sound too eager.

The sound of him pulling down the zipper of his jeans was loud enough that you could hear it through the phone — and that alone sent a shiver down your spine. It was nothing, though, in comparison to the rough groan he makes as he grips his cock in his hand. 

“Fuck,” he curses.

You could feel yourself getting slicker from the sounds of him stroking himself. Distantly, you knew you were crossing a line by listening to him, by getting off on hearing your best friend pleasure himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you found yourself holding your breath as you strained to hear him.

“What else are you wearing besides my shirt, angel?” his voice octaves lower than normal. The sound of it makes you squirm, your thighs clenching together harder. 

Biting your lip, you debated for a second whether to answer truthfully. You didn’t want to lie to your best friend and, you rationalise, you’d already crossed the line, hadn’t you?

“Just panties,” you whisper. 

You trail your hand down your chest over his shirt to toy with the hem where it had ridden up around your hips. Your fingers were dangerously close to slipping under the waistband your best friend had become oh so curious about.

“Just panties? Fucking hell, angel. What colour are they, huh?” He questions in his deep, rough voice.

You swallow thickly, wondering if he could hear how hot and bothered he was making you. You wonder if he knew you were so close to playing with yourself by the way your breath was getting faster. But you couldn’t stop yourself from answering. 

“They’re pink,” you say softly. 

“Angel,” Jaemin groans, thickened with need. “Fuck, I wanna bury my head between your thighs and kiss every single inch of you until you’re writhing under me, begging me to tear those panties off you.”

It was your turn to groan, and when you say, “Jaemin,” on a sharp exhale, you sound even more needy than anything else. Your fingers brushing over the hem of your panties, teasing yourself with whether or not you should dip beneath the fabric and touch yourself.

“You like that idea, angel?” He asks, a grin in his voice. “Like thinking about my mouth so close to your pussy.”

At his words, you couldn’t help but picture the scene. His head navigating between your legs, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you open so he could follow through on his promise. It was all too easy to imagine the way he’d look at you, mischief sparkling in his brown eyes as he slowly, teasingly kissed your mound over your panties, tongue sneaking out to lick the pink material. The picture he painted had you squirming in your bed. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, your fingers finally sliding into your panties, finding your pussy wet and swollen and needy.

When you don’t respond except with a sharp gasp, Jaemin asks, “Are you touching yourself?” 

His voice turns seductive. “You have to tell me if you are, angel—best friends tell each other this sort of thing. I have to know when you’re fingering your needy little cunt.”

“Oh god, Jaemin,” you cry softly, your breaths coming harsher. But you don’t for a second consider hiding what you were doing from your best friend. “Yes, I’m t-touching myself.”

“Good girl,” he praises, making warm pride curl through your chest as more wetness flooded your core. “Touch that pretty pussy for me.”

“H-how would you know it’s pretty?” you ask on a gasp, forcing the question out between hitching breaths as you slowly trace a finger around your dripping hole, teasing yourself and making you wetter.

“Because everything about you is pretty, angel. The way you laugh at me when I’m drunk, the way you bite your lip when you’re unsure, the way you look at me… fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Your finger pauses and you suck in a deep breath, thoughts running chaotically. Jaemin had never complimented you like this before, and you couldn’t help yourself from asking a question you desperately wanted an answer to. 

“How do I look at you, Jaemin?” you ask in a small voice, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in the expression he’d just mentioned.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he teases. “You look up at me, giving me the dirtiest fuck me eyes possible. Fluttering your pretty eyelashes like you’re begging me to bend you over every surface and stuff you full of my cock.” 

“Jaemin,” you cry out in a little sob, emotions and arousal swirling through your body completely overwhelming you for a moment. 

“I know angel,” Jaemin’s voice is soothing and deep. “I know you give those eyes to me.” 

He paused for a moment and all you could hear was his deep, steady breathing. 

“Because you’re mine, yeah?” There was a thread of uncertainty in his question, and it made your heart thump in response.

“Yeah,” you agree without hesitation, without protest. “I’m yours, Jaemin.” 

“Good,” he declares. Without giving you time to fully process what had just transpired between the two of you, Jaemin continues speaking, his voice diving an octave lower and growing rough. “Now slide one of your fingers into that pretty pussy of yours.” 

It was so easy to listen to him, to give yourself over to his command. Letting his deep voice reverberate in your head, heat curling all through your body down to the tips of your toes, as you press one of your fingers into your wet hole. A soft moan tumbles from your lips and you knew Jaemin heard it from the way he sucks in a breath.

“That’s it, angel, being so good for me,” his breaths coming harsher down the phone line. “Tell me how it feels.”

You sink into the sensations and the sound of his voice, letting your eyes fall closed. You feel like you’re floating in the soft sea of your bed as you pull your finger out and thrust it back inside your pussy. 

“Feels so good,” you answer in another moan.

Jaemin responds with a groan of his own. “Bet you’re fucking tight,” he says, breath heavy and raw. “Bet you’re clenching down on your little finger, aren’t you?”

Like your body was trained to respond to his voice, your pussy clenches around your finger at his words and you let out a hitching moan. But Jaemin doesn’t stop talking. His deep, hoarse voice fills your ears and makes you hotter and hotter.

“Fuck, angel, keep going—keep fingering that wet pussy for me while I stroke my dick to those sweet little sounds you make,” he urges, as he bit back his groans. You moan and gasp in response to his filthy words. “Fuckin’ hell, I wish it was your warm cunt gripping me right now, clenching hard around my thick cock while I fuck you.”

“Please,” you beg, not sure what exactly you were asking for but knowing you didn’t want him to stop talking. You add another finger to your dripping hole, crying out at the slight stretch.

“Would you like that, angel?” he asks, managing to fill his tone with teasing even as his heavy breaths gave away how turned on, he was. “Tell me—fucking tell me,” he prompts when you don’t respond, too busy fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of his voice.

A whine forces itself out of your lungs, the simple command sounding so filthy from your best friend’s mouth. “Yes, Jaem,” you whimper an answer between your gasping breaths. “Want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck—fuck,” he groans almost painful. “The next time I see you, that pussy is mine. Gonna bury my face between your thighs and make you come on my tongue,” he promises. “Then I’m gonna shove my cock deep in your cunt and fuck you stupid.”

“Jaemin,” you sob out his name, fucking yourself harder as you picture your best friend hovering over you while you lay in his bed. You imagine how his body would start fucking you into the mattress, his cock buried deep in your pussy, your arms and legs wrapped around him — anything to be close to him. 

Through the phone, you hear the soft sound of Jaemin fucking himself into his own fist, the strain in his voice every time he spoke. 

Imagining your best friend sprawled on his bed, jeans open just enough for him to have his cock out, gripping and pumping his length roughly with his eyes squeezed shut. Thinking about him like that makes you whimper.

“Fuck—I can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’d look while I fuck you, angel,” he murmurs. “Wanna see my cock stretch you while I pound into you, wanna see your pretty lips swollen from my kisses as you moan for me, wanna see your eyes go all hazy as you get stupid on my cock.”

As he speaks, your thumb circles your clit and you moan loudly into the phone. Your best friend’s filthy words make your pussy clench down hard on your fingers as you get closer and closer to your release. 

“Don’t stop, Jaem, please don’t stop,” you beg breathlessly. Jaemin lets loose a deep groan in response to your desperate plea, the sound making your thighs clamp down hard around your hand. You wish your legs were wrapped around his waist instead of your wrist.

“Fuck your pussy, angel, nice and hard.”

You cry out as you force a third finger, making yourself stretch to take the intrusion. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl, fuck yourself stupid to the sound of my voice,” he encourages. 

Even with how far gone you are, you can hear the cocky grin in his tone, but your body just flushes and clenches tight in response. Desperately, you fuck yourself harder, hips rocking into your hand, mind drowning in lust as you gasp and moan into the phone. Knowing he can hear you only urges you not to hold back. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jaemin groans loudly, his breath coming in sharp pants. “Keep making those cute little sounds for me, my cock is aching for you—fuck!” The cockiness in his tone fades into desperation. 

“Jaemin,” his name tumbles past your lips. 

You’d said your best friend’s name countless times over the years, but never like this—never with your fingers buried deep in your cunt wishing it was his thick cock.

“Jaem, I need…” you trail off, not even knowing what you need, just knowing he was the only one who could give it to you.

“You need my cock, don’t you?” You can hear the way his grin curls at the edges of his mouth. “Need my cock just like I need your pussy.” He bit off the end of his sentence with a groan. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” he moans. “Gonna come so hard to your sweet little moans, angel.”

You gasp and your back arches off your bed when you rub your thumb roughly over your clit. You moan so shamelessly for your best friend. “So close.” 

“When I fuck you,” he starts, cutting himself off abruptly as he groans again. “When I fuck you, angel, I’m gonna make you come so hard on my cock,” he promises, voice rough and deep you swear you can feel the pleasure from the sound shooting from your ear directly to your clit. “And while you’re screaming my name and coming all over my dick, I’m gonna bury myself in that sweet pussy and pump you full of my load—you want my come, angel?”

“Yes, Jaemin, please come inside me, fill me up,” you babble, so close to your own release you barely know what you’re saying. 

“That’s it. That’s my slutty little angel, begging for my come.” He groans, stroking himself faster. “Come for me, come for your best friend,” he commands, pausing to moan lowly. “Tell me who you belong to.” 

“I’m yours, Jaemin, all yours,” you cry out. With one more deep thrust of your fingers, the heel of your hand grinding against your clit, you come apart. 

You moan loudly as waves of pleasure surged through you, consuming you. Your limbs shaking as you wrench every ounce of pleasure from your release, fucking yourself through it as you breathe fast and harsh.

“That’s my good girl. Coming so sweetly for me, so perfect.” He grunts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! You made me come so fucking hard, angel,” he mumbles, a little breathless.

Since you hadn’t fully regained control over your body, you just hummed in delight. You were still riding the aftershocks of your orgasm, your lips turned in a smile while you listened to Jaemin catching his breath.

“Like hearing me come apart for you?” He teases the question. “Wish you were here to clean up the mess you made.” 

“Jaem,” you try to put some reproach into your voice but fail miserably as you giggle. 

“Don’t worry, you can help the next time I see you.”

The line goes quiet for a moment, the two of you gathering yourselves together. “You’re still my best girl, right?” he finally asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I’m your girl.”

“That’s good to hear,” he murmurs, sighing contentedly, and you can tell he was starting to drift off. “Because all of me is yours, angel. And I plan on showing you that when I’m back.”

[yellowbrokenblue]

The Club

Harry is the owner of a very exclusive nightclub, and when a girl he doesn’t recognise walks in, he knows he needs to have her.

cw: smut, exhibitionism, degradation

— ✶ — ✶ —

He spotted her from a mile away. Blonde bouncy curls cascading down her back, and her low cut top paired with a skirt that barely covered anything was almost too much for him to handle. He stood in the corner of the club, a drink in his hand as he watched her.

He didn’t recognise her at all, which was interesting to him as this was famously an exclusive establishment. You had to be on the list which the bouncer had at the entrance to get in. Harry approved of every one ever added to the list, but he didn’t recall adding her.

Harry didn’t do it to be a dick, or to act superior over everyone else. Making his club invite only had its reasons. For example, people came here for a good time- and it was not the ‘drink and dancing’ type of good time. He turned a blind eye to these activities, but the word spread over time about what went on inside. Not that it bothered Harry in any way. Sex was exciting. And if it made people talk, and made people more desperate to manage to get into his club, then so be it.

Curious people made him money.

He watched this girl longer, and the curiosity was clear on her face.

She was looking around, taking in the whole place, until she locked eyes with him. Harry’s eyes stared right into hers, sipping on his drink while her body froze in the middle of the dance floor.

Harry took the opportunity to place his glass on the nearest table, and walk through the crowd of people towards her.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked as he approached her.

He stood as close to her as he could, sliding a hand on her hip.

“Yes.” She replied, her eyes wide, staring into his. “I’m just looking for someone.”

Her voice was shaky as Harry used the hand on her hip to pull her closer.

“Hm?” Harry said, “And who may that be?”

Her attention shifted from Harry to the couple next to them on the dance floor. They weren’t even trying to be subtle about the fact the woman was getting fingered in the middle of a crowd of people, and the girl Harry had in front of him seemed shocked, yet pleasantly surprised at the same time.

Harry leaned down, his mouth brushing against her ear, and whispered, “I don’t remember adding you to the list of people who are allowed to come in my club, which is a shame, really, because I would’ve loved a pretty little thing like you to come in much sooner.”

Her eyes met his again.

“Now,” Harry repeated, “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

She swallowed.

“I’d heard people say things.” She said nervously, “I just wanted to experience it for myself.”

“Experience what?” Harry asked, a devilish smirk playing on his lips, “The drinks? The music? Or did you just wanna experience getting fucked in a crowd of people.”

Harry’s crotch pressed against her, his rock-hard cock pressing into her stomach.

She let out a gasp and pressed her hips against him, feeling her skirt ride up as she moved.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“It’s uhm…” Harry tightened his grip on her waist, “It’s Maya.”

“Well, Maya,” Harry said, “Are you going to let me show you a good time?”

She nodded, and Harry was in no mood for time wasting, so immediately his lips were on hers. She tasted sweet, but the thought of fucking her was consuming him, so he began to grind his hips against her, a moan leaving Mayas lips. His mouth traveled down her neck, licking and sucking at her skin. He tasted her perfume as he kissed her, but even then it tasted sweet.

“You never told me your name.” She moaned as Harry kissed her collarbone, his erection still pressed hard against her.

“Harry.” He mumbled back. “Styles.”

His hands were exploring her body as his lips kissed her, and his fingers were slowly creeping up her short skirt.

“Listen to me, Maya. I’m going to make you cum in the middle of all of these people, right here, on my hand. And then I’m going to take you over to that corner and fuck you, because it’s all I’ve been able to think about since you walked through that door.”

She nodded in compliance, desperate to feel him.

He made quick work of finding her clit, moving in quick circles while she groaned against his skin. He slid one finger into her entrance, and then another, pumping his fingers into her while she moaned his name.

“Harry.” She cried, “Oh, yes! Just like that.”

“Can your tight little cunt take another finger?” Harry asked.

She nodded enthusiastically, and Harry inserted a third finger. She was loud, but the people around them didn’t care at all, everyone was engrossed in their own business, not caring what was going on around them.

“You’re so tight,” Harry said, “Can feel you clenching around my hand. I want you to cum now.”

“I’m close.” She moaned, her head falling backwards as Harry pumped his fingers faster.

She cried out as she orgasmed, her sticky cum coating Harry’s hand, and dripping down her leg. She moaned his name over and over, Harry keeping a hand on her waist to hold her steady.

“‘Atta girl.” Harry said, “You just came on my fingers in front of all of these people, bet it made you feel good, huh?”

She nodded.

Harry grinned, bringing his hand to his lips, and sucking on them. Licking her cum right off her fingers.

Her wide eyes watched him, audibly moaning at his actions.

“We’re not done here, yet.” Harry said, as he led her over to the back of the club, towards the bathrooms.

He took a key out of his pocket, and unlocked the bathroom specifically for staff, leading her inside and locking the door behind them again, leaving the key in the lock so no one else would be able to enter from the outside.

He could see her better now, away from the very dim lighting of the club.

Her hair was much lighter than he thought, a bleached blonde with her natural brunette hair creeping through at her roots. Her makeup was smudged from their previous activities, and her outfit was still as flimsy and revealing as it had been outside. The only thing keeping her top on her body was a small tie at the top at the back of her neck.

“You’re a pretty girl, Maya.” Harry said. “How lucky am I that a little whore like you walked into my club tonight?”

Her breathing was heavy, and her cheeks flushed.

“Pull your skirt up,” Harry said, “All the way to your hips.

She quickly done as he said, and Harry unbuttoned his pants, sliding them off.

He guided her to the other side of the bathroom, to where the sink and mirror were.

“I like to see people when I fuck them.” Harry said. “Can I fuck you, Maya?”

She nodded, enthusiastically.

Harry took her wrist and spun her around, so they were both facing the mirror.

“Say it.” He said.

“I want you to fuck me.” She said.

He grinned.

“Ask nicely, and I will.”

“Please fuck me, Harry.” She begged, “I need to feel you.”

Harry grinned, “Much better.“

He reached down to grab a condom from his jeans before throwing them back on the floor, and took off his underwear, letting his erection spring free.

He rolled the condom on, and grabbed hold of Mayas hips, quickly finding her entrance, and pushing the tip of his dick into her from behind.

Her cries of pleasure while he sunk himself deep into her probably could’ve been enough for Harry to cum right there and then, but the moans she let out of her mouth as he quickly thrusted were even better.

She gripped the sink as he fucked her. It was rough, messy. But neither of them cared.

He looked at her in the mirror, her makeup was ruined and her hair was a tangled mess from Harry’s hand gripping onto it.

“You’re taking my cock so well, Maya. So tight, my good little whore.”

She moaned at his words, and he sped up, desperate to make her cum.

The bathroom was filled with the sounds of their moans and their skin colliding, the smell of sex filling the room.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum.” She said.

He wished he had a video of this so he could remember her moans of pleasure for the rest of his life. He wanted to hear her cry out his name while he fucked he from behind forever.

“Cum with me, gorgeous.”

He’d been struggling to hold on since the moment his cock was inside of her, and as soon as she reached her own orgasm, Harry let himself release, pulling out from her and letting his cum fill the condom.

The softened nightclub music soon was the only thing either of them heard while the both caught there breath. Harry slipped his underwear and pants back on, and Maya sorted herself the best she could in the mirror, pulling her skirt back down and wiping away the smudged makeup.

“Where’s your phone?” Harry asked.

Maya turned to him.

“They took everyone’s phones off them at the door.”

“Shit,” Harry said, forgetting about the rule he had set where security thoroughly searched everyone at the entrance for mobile phones or any other recording equipment, and locking it up for the duration of your stay. It was to prevent any pervs videoing people or anyone leaking the ongoings of the exclusive club. “I forgot about that.”

“You got a pen?” Harry asked.

She shook her head, “I think I have an eyeliner pencil in my pocket?”

“Get it out, that’ll do.” Harry said.

She found the pencil, and handed it to him.

“Your arm?” Harry said, grabbing her hand and pulling her arm towards him.

She assumed this was going to be a one time thing, but when Harry began to write a phone number up her arm, she guessed that Harry hadn’t thought the same.

“I want you to come back tomorrow.” He said. “We’re not done here.”

read part two here !

[loud-sturniolos]

“MOVE ON”

Chris finally decides to try get over his ex

Warnings: Mentions of Y/N, fluff I guess, reader being a small fashion/makeup influencer, slightly shy!reader, mentions of drinking, kinda a cliffhanger

A/N: I have not wrote in a while, I’ve been focused on writing my book and not fanfics, so this may be quite shit.

A/N2: Part 2 has been posted, it is at the top of my page:)

It had been 2 months.

2 whole months since Chris’s ex had broken up with him.

And he was still moping around, barely leaving the house, and annoying his brothers, and they’d had enough.

Chris looked out the car window with a confused look, currently dressed in some basic jeans and a white shirt with a hoodie around his waist. Matt had told him, “Dress casual, we’re going out to eat,” but when the car pulled up in front of a lively house, with music blasting so loud you could hear it down the street, Chris realised he’d been tricked.

“Dude, I’m not going into that party.” He told Matt firmly as he turned off the car. “Yes, you are.” Was Matt’s response, leaving no room for argument. Nick butted in as he opened Chris’s car door for him, “You’ve been annoying us all week with your constant whining. Now you can go annoy others.” Chris rolled his eyes, but reluctantly got out the car and followed his brothers into the loud house.

As they walked in, Chris and his brothers were greeted by a lot of familiar faces. He gave a few waves and polite hello’s, but eventually snuck off to get a drink.

Walking up to the makeshift bar in the kitchen, his eyes immediately landed on the case of Pepsi’s left open, and he grabbed one before heading out the backdoor for some quiet. When he stepped out, he was met with a cool breeze, and then he saw a girl stood on the other side of the decking, drinking some colourful drink. He quickly tried to look away, not in the mood to talk to some girl he didn’t know, but she turned around and caught his eye. He gave a polite, but awkward, smile. “Hi.” He said, trying not to let his lips curve up at the sight of her shy smile. “Hi. You’re one of those triplets, right?” “Yeah, one of those triplets.” he repeated with a slight grin. “Which one are you? No, wait, let me guess.” She said, stepping up to Chris for a closer look.

Chris stared down at her as she tried to figure out who he was, giving her a lopsided grin as his hair falls over his eyes. “Are you.. Matt?” She finally says, making him let out a small chuckle and shake his head. “Nope. You want another guess, or?” He teased slightly, “..Are you Chris?” She guesses again, making him nod as he takes a sip of his Pepsi. “Yep. I’m Chris. And you are..?” He says, now feeling slightly bad he doesn’t know who this girl is. “I’m Y/N.” She says with a little smile, then quickly, and shyly, adds, “I’m not that known. But I do fashion and make up stuff on YouTube.” “Oh, that’s cool. I’ll have to check you out some time.” He responds, his eyes flicking down to her lips as her tongue darts out to wet them. He looks back at her eyes, then smirks a little at noticing her eyes flit down to his own lips.

After a while of talking, the two were now sat on the edge of the deck, watching the sun set together. Y/N was now in Chris’s hoodie, since it was cold, at least that’s what Chris kept telling himself. Chris finally piped up after a while of silence, “Soo.. how old are you?” He looked down at her head resting on his bicep. “Just turned 21.” She responded, lifting her head to look at him, and that’s when they realised how close they were. Her eyes flicked to Chris’s lips, and Chris’s flicked to hers, and then before either could say or do anything, Chris leaned forward.

Her lips were soft against his, her hands going to the ends of his hair and tugging gently. Chris groaned into her mouth, his own hands grabbing her hips and pulling her to straddle his lap. She moaned into his mouth at the sudden movement, and tried to press her tongue into his mouth. But Chris finally realised what he was doing.

Without warning, Chris pulled away and pushed her off him, standing up. “A.. are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” Y/N asked nervously, standing up and fidgeting with the sleeves of her his hoodie. “I have to go.” Is all Chris murmured in response, before quickly heading back inside. Y/N stood there awkwardly for a moment, before realising she still had his hoodie. She grabbed her glass and quickly followed him inside, pushing through the crowd of drunk and tipsy YouTubers, desperately trying to find Chris.

She finally saw the back of his head, and tried to push towards him, but the music changed, and suddenly another influencer friend grabbed her and dragged her to the dance floor, and Chris disappeared from view.

A/N(again): I wrote this in half an hour, and then Tumblr glitched and deleted the whole ending so I had to redo it😭

This is not proofread, if you see any, please inform me of any mistakes, misspellings, etc.

I will probably do pt.2 tomorrow, if you guys want it:)

[starpens]

. ･｡･ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ･｡･ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;

satoru is having a damn good day.

it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.

but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.

and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.

the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.

it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.

he would do anything to please his girls, after all.

“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.

“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”

“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”

“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”

“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”

“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”

but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.

“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.

oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.

it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.

“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”

“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.

“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.

“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.

“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”

satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.

ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.

whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.

“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”

“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.

“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.

satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.

“what ya got there, princess?”

“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”

“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”

“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”

“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.

“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.

“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”

“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.

“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.

“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.

you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.

“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”

“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.

but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—

“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.

october 30, 2018

the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.

four, no, five years?

his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.

while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—

“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”

“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.

“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—

“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”

“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.

or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”

he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.

“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”

“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”

“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”

“why? i don’t want to.”

your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.

“huh, that’s new.”

“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”

“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.

“do you need me?”

“what, you think i can’t handle her?”

“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”

he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.

her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.

he has to rip his gaze away.

“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”

“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”

“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”

“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.

you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.

“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”

she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.

“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.

“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”

“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”

satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”

“okinawa.”

“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”

a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.

time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.

you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”

[farity]

Always

"Not like this!"

You listened to your husband and his mother, frustration growing inside you as Alicent stalled and hesitated when faced with attacking Rhaenyra.

From your perch across the room, you could see the moment Aemond understood, the moment it sank in that his own mother would not act against her friend. Against the woman who had never answered for her transgressions. The woman who did as she pleased. The woman who wanted him "sharply questioned" as a child as he sat, bleeding after losing an eye.

Aemond stormed off, and you discreetly blended back into the shadows and took a different route to where you thought you would find him.

Your slippers made no sound as you went around the side of the keep, heading to the fields that led to where Vhagar rested.

"Your Highness."

You turned back to see Ser Criston Cole. You knew how loyal he was to Alicent and considering the rumor that he and Rhaenyra had once been close meant that you regarded him with some wariness.

"Ser Criston, I am in a hurry-"

"I know," he said, and leaned in closer. "I am at Prince Aemond's bidding." He looked troubled and almost apologetic as he continued. "I cannot support this waiting, this delay of action." He bowed to you and went back to the armory, and left you wondering if the tides were turning.

You ran the rest of the way, seeing your husband walking along, head down. He heard you approaching and turned. "This is not a good time, wife."

"I swore to be by your side in both triumph and turmoil, Aemond. 'Until the end of my days', remember?"

He whirled around, silver hair shimmering in the afternoon light. "I will not tolerate any more betrayal. Many have sworn their fealty," he spat out, and grabbed your arm, "and many have broken that trust."

You stared levelly at him. "Yet others may be breaking their oaths to come to your side. And I," you grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him to you, "will not be doubted in my loyalty and devotion to you."

His blue eye bore into yours, and you did the only thing that came to mind - you rose on your tip toes and kissed him. He was still for a moment, and then you caught his lower lip between your teeth, squeezing gently before letting go.

"You do not want me right now, wife."

You smiled softly. Did he know? Did he realize that just the sound of his voice or the scent of his skin was enough to undo you? "I always want you, Aemond."

When he didn't move, you slowly began to sink to your knees before him, looking up to gauge his reaction. There was something else in his gaze now, not just the anger and resentment that had been there before, and you knew you'd chosen right. You reached up to run your hand down the front of his breeches and he quickly caught your wrist. "Be careful, little wife. I am not in the gentlest of moods."

In response, you ripped off the laces on your bodice, letting the top of your gown fall loosely around your bare shoulders. You raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to walk away.

When he lunged at you, you gasped, finding yourself on your back a moment later, his hands busily pulling the fabric until your breasts were bared and then his mouth was on one rosy peak and you moaned, arching into him, feeling the desperation in his hands, in the way he was kneeing your legs apart.

You whimpered when you felt him reach between your thighs, finding you already soaked for him. "All this for me?"

"You. Only you." You let his tongue invade your mouth, his need to taste and touch one you were more than ready to satisfy. Reaching down, you began to undo the lacing at his breeches, wanting more and more now that you were both so frenzied. His fingers continued to reach deep inside you, and you could feel the simmering heat of an orgasm not too far away. "Please, Aemond," you begged. "Please."

He pulled out his fingers, sucking on them while he reached down with his other hand and stroked himself once, twice, and then began to push inside you.

He snapped his hips, filling you to the hilt, and you gasped, breathing to let your body adjust. "I told you," he murmured, "I am not in the gentlest of moods."

In response, you wrapped your legs around him, reached up to pull him down to you. "I don't want gentle," you whispered against his mouth.

He began fucking you, and you knew it would be quick, brutal. There was no room for gentleness, not in the way his mouth clamped down on your jaw, not in the way your nails sank into his ass.

The swirling heat inside you flared into an almost painful orgasm that had you screaming while Aemond grabbed fistfuls of your hair, desperate to keep you in place as he continued pounding into you.

You were still contracting around him when you felt him harden even more inside you and then he buried his face in your hair, groaning as he came, his breathing loud in your ear as he reached his own release.

Neither of you moved for a long time, other than you stroking his hair while he nuzzled your cheek. Eventually, he rose on his elbow, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. "Did I hurt you?"

You smiled against his mouth. "Never."

He pressed his forehead against yours. "You are the greatest treasure in my life."

You reached up to caress his scarred cheek. "I think that honor belongs to Vhagar. I would not wish to incur her wrath."

"Vhagar is the biggest treasure in my life," Aemond replied, smirking, "you are the greatest."

You would tell him about what Ser Criston had said, later, but for now, you were happy to simply hold him in your arms, a rare moment of peace amidst the happenings in the realm.

[forever-rogue]

hello miss bee 🐝

if you're in the mood to write for joel id love to ask one where he and reader just had a baby of their own and ellie starts to feel left out but they both comfort and reassure her that they won't treat her differently since they already unofficially adopted her anyway 🫶🤲

AN | There may be a new baby on the way, but that doesn’t you’ll ever love Ellie any less. She just needs to be reminded of that💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 3.3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I hate this,” you plopped down in the chair on the back patio with a loud huff. You heard a snort of amusement from behind you and turned around to find Joel watching you in amusement. Your lips pulled into a pout and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “this is all your fault.”

“Hmm,” he raised an eyebrow before going back over to the makeshift grill to check on dinner, “pretty sure that’s only half true, sweetheart.”

“Well,” you crossed your arms over your chest and frowned at him, “it’s still partially true. Being pregnant is the worst. Especially with this heat. I should have gotten pregnant in the summer so the worst of it would have been in the winter.”

“Think of it this way,” the way you raised an eyebrow in a way that suggested you were anything but amused, “we’ll have a fresh baby for the holidays.”

“I’m still hoping for a halloween baby,” you grinned, rubbing your belly that seemed to be growing by the day, “how cool would that be?”

“The coolest,” Joel teased as you laughed, an actual laugh that went straight to his heart, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“The real question - do you think we’re going to have a boy or girl?” 

“Girl,” he insisted without hesitation, “I’m always going to have my girls. I don’t think that’s changing anytime soon.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” you took a sip of the fresh lemonade and let out a soft sigh, “but I have a feeling you’re going to be wrong!”

“Oh yeah? You wanna bet on that?” Joel stood there, hands on his hips as he watched you closely. You stuck out your tongue at him, causing both of you to laugh.

What you hadn’t realized was that Ellie was in the kitchen, getting some plates ready to bring out, listening to the two of you. She loved you, she loved you both immensely. She knew that you and you knew that. But she couldn’t help the pang that settled in her stomach and the way her heart seemed to constrict. It was a feeling that hadn’t left her since you’d told her you were pregnant. You and Joel had been so excited to tell her and despite the shock of the news, she’d been excited too. Ellie Williams was finally going to have a baby sister or brother. Her family was growing.

But as the weeks passed by and your pregnancy became more visibly obvious, the worse she started to feel. And it felt like it was eating her alive. It was a mix of emotions that she was struggling to handle and cope with. She was excited for you and Joel and your entire little family but it left her feeling…lost and confused. 

Ellie knew that both of you viewed her as your daughter and she viewed you as parents. She wondered what it would like when the baby came. Your baby - your and Joel’s flesh and blood. Once you had your own baby, would you no longer care about her? Would she be pushed to the wayside as you welcomed and loved your actual child? 

These types of thoughts had been plaguing her for months now. It was stupid, so fuckin’ stupid, she’d be the first to admit, and yet the feelings remained. Realistically, she could have gone to either of you and asked in order to alleviate her fears or get some simple reassurance. But that seemed silly too. What was she supposed to do? Come up to you and ask ‘hey will you still love me once the baby is here?’ That felt ridiculous. 

Instead, Ellie internalized her feelings, deciding to push them away and act like nothing was wrong. You’d noticed that something was off with your girl recently. Things had just seen so crazy lately, with getting ready for the baby and Joel being off for a while with work to do, it hadn’t been easy. But Ellie really had been your rock and you hated the idea that you were neglecting her in any sense.

“Ellie?” the girl almost dropped the bowl of salad she was holding when she heard you call out to her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back her tears before heading into the backyard. Your entire face lit up when you saw her and she felt bad for a moment for ever having doubted your love and affection for her, “there you are, Ellie Bean! Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” she set the plates and bowl onto the table and nodded softly, “just got caught up cutting the…tomatoes.”

“There’s no tomatoes in the salad, baby,” you gave her arm a gentle squeeze, “we gave the last of them to the Meyers the other day. Are you sure you’re alright?”

She looked away and nodded, staring into the distance as she pleaded with her heart and mind to remain calm and collected. Joel clicked his tongue and caught her attention, giving her a questioning look. Sometimes he hated how well he knew her and how he seemed to see right through her.

“C’mere,” he motioned for her to come over and she obliged, walking over slowly with a heavy tread. She stopped in front of him and he put his hands on her shoulders, leaning down slightly so he was closer to eye level with her, “what’s wrong, baby girl?”

“Nothing,” she replied through gritted teeth. Joel knew that something was up but he didn’t want to push her and possibly cause her to pull away from him. He sighed softly before pressing a kiss to her forehead. It had become such a reflexive action that he didn’t even think about doing it any more, “you’re being gross and showing too much emotion.”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he teased and that caused her to smile slightly at him, “‘cause it sure ain’t going to be you right, is it? You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” she whispered, “not right now.”

“Okay,” he nodded lightly, “I’ll be here and ready to listen whenever you’re ready.”

“I know, old man,” she pushed his arm before turning on her heel and walking back over to you. She sat down next to you, her gaze drifting for a moment to your belly. You reached up and touched her face, gently stroking her cheek, “you’re both such saps.”

“It’s only because we love you,” you beamed at her. She felt her cheeks growing warm and pink as she stared at the bowl of tomato-less salad, “you wanna help me make some dessert while the food’s cooking? I was thinking pudding…ooh or maybe some sort of pie?!”

“Sure,” she perked up at your enthusiasm, unable to deny the appeal of spending time with you and making a dessert, “let’s do it.”

Ellie decided that she’d figure out the rest later. Right now, she was okay and she just wanted the two of you to have some fun. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m worried about her,” you closed your book and set on the nightstand before turning to your husband with a sad expression on your face. He followed suit and turned so he was fully looking at you.

“The baby?” 

“I - no. And we don’t know if it’s a girl or boy yet so calm down,” you laughed for a moment before moving to sit crossed-legged - to the best of your ability anyway - and gave him a serious look, “Ellie. She seems so closed off lately and it always seems like she’s upset, but when I try to talk to her she changes the subject or finds an excuse to leave. I feel like my poor baby girl hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Joel took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze before you laced your fingers together, “she could never hate you.”

“But something is wrong and I don’t know what it is and I can’t fix it,” a wave of emotion washed over you and tears stung at the back of your eyes. You sniffled, fully aware that you probably seemed ridiculous right now but you didn’t care, “I just want to make it better.”

“Honey,” Joel’s voice was soft as he put his hands on your sides and gently pulled you towards him. You easily gave in, soft and pliable, as he settled you in his lap. You felt pathetic as you looked at him, tears running down your cheeks. He tenderly brushed them away before taking your face in his hands and turning your face up to his, “she doesn’t hate you and she never will. Whatever she’s going through right now, she’ll come around. She’s still guarded and sometimes these things take time. She’ll come around, she always does. We just have to keep on loving her.”

“Promise?” you whispered as he nodded softly. You leaned into his touch as he rubbed your back soothingly, “I don’t know what I’d do if…I don’t know. If she stopped loving us.”

“That ain’t happening,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I have a feeling I know what’s going on with her.”

“Oh?” you looked at him in surprise and he couldn’t help but grin at the sight of your confused expression. The fact that you were so pouty and pregnant made you even more adorable to him than before. He had to fight back a laugh at your expression, opting instead to kiss you softly, “what do you think it is?”

“The baby,” he answered, putting a hand on your belly and rubbing it gently, “I think she’s worried about the baby.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think she thinks that we’re just going…to stop loving her?” the waterworks started again and this time you couldn’t hold back the tears, “she thinks we’re going to replace her!”

“Oh honey,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and tried to hug him as best as possible. You huffed as you buried your face into his chest and he softly cooed at you, “I don’t think she thinks we’re trying to replace her. I think she’s worried that we won’t have as much time and love for her."

"That's not true," you hated the fact that that thought even crossed her mind, "that's like…the farthest thing from the truth! She's my baby too. Nothing is ever going to change that."

"I know that," he gently brushed his fingers along your jaw before resting his hand on your cheek, "you know that. I think she just might need a little reassurance."

"Yeah," you sighed softly, "I can do that. I will do that."

"I have no doubt about that either, honey."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ellie startled when she heard your enthusiastic knocking on her door. She groaned as she looked at the old school alarm on the bedside table and saw that it wasn't even eight o'clock yet. 

"Come in," she rolled onto her side so she was facing the door. You almost threw open the door in your excitement, already fully dressed and ready for the door.

"Hi my love!" Her eyes widened at your cheeriness, "good morning, Ellie Bean."

"It's early," she groaned as you leaned against the doorway, causing you to laugh softly, "why are you so awake?"

"I've been up for a while…couldn't sleep well," you shrugged it off, "but I thought it would be fun if we spent the day together, just the two of us!"

"O-oh," she slowly sat up, heart almost constricting with emotion, "are you sure?"

"Duh," you teased, "its been a while since it's just been the two of us and I figured we could have some fun!"

"Okay," she looked at you, an eyebrow raised in question. You clapped excitedly and she offered you a tentative smile in response, "w-wait, am I in trouble?"

"Of course not," you walked over to her and held out your hand to her. She took yours and slowly slipped out of the bed, "I just want to spend some time with my favorite girl."

"Alright," a little bit of a flush crossed her cheeks as she offered you a smile, "yeah, that could be fun."

"Let's go then slow poke, no time to lose!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your day had been filled with doing anything and everything that Ellie wanted - within reason of course. As the day bled into night, the two of you were at the lake, sitting on the dock, feet dangling into the water. 

"Can I ask you something?" You finally couldn't take it anymore and needed to clear all the air. Ellie paused before nodding slowly and turning towards you.

"Sure…"

"I feel like lately…things have been different," you put your arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze, "and I want to make sure you're alright. You've been off lately, and I want to know if you're okay and if I can do anything to help."

"Oh. Oh," Ellie swallowed thickly; she thought she'd been better at disguising her feelings, "umm…it's…just. I don't know. Things have just felt different since you've been pregnant."

"Yeah?" You asked as she turned to you with a sad little smile and a nod, "oh, Ellie."

"I just…it feels weird that…umm. Like it's you and Joel, you know? And now you're having your own child and it makes me feel like…where's my place?"

"Baby," you tried to keep your own emotions at bay but it was hard when all you wanted to was to wrap her up in a big hug, "your place is with us - it'll always be with us. We're family. Nothing is going to change that."

"But if you love the new baby more than me?" You hated that she even thought anything like that. You wished you could convey just how very much you loved her, "I keep thinking about…what if you don't want me anymore."

"We will never not want you or love you," you took her hand and held it tightly in yours, "that will never change. Nothing could change how we feel about you. You're our girl, Ellie."

"Are you sure? The baby-"

"The baby doesn't change anything," you pulled her into your body as much as you could, "its another person we're bringing into our family that we can love. It doesn't mean any of us is going to get less love. Okay? I swear on my life. And Joel's life. All of it."

"Every time I've gotten close to people they've been taken from me," Ellie sniffled brushing at her eyes with the back of her hand, "my parents, my family, my friends…I almost lost Joel. I don't want to lose you too and the baby. I'm not sure if I'd make it if I did."

"Ellie," you softened at the young girl, "you are so young and you've been through so much. More than anyone ever should. And I know the world is scary and we don't know what the future holds but we can't let that dictate how we feel about the present or how we act. You're not going to lose us or your brother or sister. Never. And maybe me just saying that doesn't make anything better but I'll show you and I'll keep showing you that we mean it. Honestly, I don't think I'd survive without you. You are the world to me, Ellie."

"Being pregnant has made you so sappy," she laughed through her tears, "even more than normal. Its kind of gross."

"It's because I love you so much, kiddo," you grinned at her, brushing away her tears, "but the hormones definitely aren't helping! Luckily it won't be too much longer before the baby is here."

"Are you scared?"

"Terrified," you confessed with a sheepish grin, "but I know I'll be okay. I've got you Joel and you. Everything will be okay."

"Yeah," she nodded, a bit of confidence oozing back into her, "we'll be okay. I'm excited to meet the baby."

"Boy or girl you think?"

"Girl," she seemed so confident that you were almost convinced of that as well, "Joel's meant to be surrounded by girls."

"Funny, that's exactly what he said too," you shook your head in amusement thinking about the two of them. They were too alike for their own good, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"Whatever," she playfully rolled her eyes, "we all know we're right!"

"Mhmm," you slowly stood up and held out your hand to her, "come on my love. Let's go home and annoy Joel."

She took your hand eagerly, "I love you too, just so you know."

"Yeah," you promised her softly, "I know. I love you more, kiddo."

-

Ellie approached you slowly, almost unsure if she should be coming over. You beamed at her, motioning for her to come closer. She stole a quick look at Joel, who offered her a small smile and nod of reassurance.

"Come here, my love," you held out your hand to her and she came over, staring at the bundle in your arms in awe, "I hate to admit it, but Joel was right. You've got yourself a little sister."

"Wow," she reached over and gentle stroked her chubby little cheek, "she's so small. What's her name?"

"Well, we don't have a name picked out yet," you smiled softly, "we were hoping you'd help us by picking her name."

"Me?"

"You! If you'd like to that is," you could see her eyes watering up, and your heart felt so full, "you can take a bit to think about it-"

"Daisy," she stated softly, looking between you and Joel to gauge your reactions, "I like Daisy."

"Me too," you gave her a hand squeeze, "Daisy it is. It's perfect. Do you want to hold her, Ellie?"

"I-I don't know," she swallowed the lump in her throat as the baby cooed softly, "she's so small and I don't wanna…hurt her."

"You won't," you promised, straightening up as she stepped closer, "hold her to your chest and make sure you're supporting her head, okay?"

"Okay," she reached over gingerly, as though the baby was made of glass. She took her from you and did as you said, holding the small baby protectively. Daisy made a few sounds before yawning and snuggling into Ellie. The girl watched her in amazement, "she's so cute and little."

"Just like you," you teased, reaching over and giving her arm a squeeze. You turned to Joel, who was watching the scene unfold with nothing short of heart eyes, "look at that, Joel. Look at our girls. They're the best."

"Yeah," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the side of Ellie's head, "they are. But you know what else?"

"Hmm?"

"I was right - it was a girl," he threw you a cheeky grin as you snorted in amusement, "wouldn't change it for the world."

"Yeah, me neither," Ellie piped up, "I guess we're a pretty cool family. Daisy and me anyways. You guys are alright."

"We love you too," you sighed contentedly, happy to have your little family all together, "both of you. Lots and lots."

[lewisvinga]

born to die | fernando alonso x fem! reader

summary: after their engagement, y/n realized her and fernando may have different views of the future. it makes her wonder if they were really born to die.

warnings; age gap, cursing, angst/fluff

word count; 1.28k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; and this is it u guyssss🥹 i enjoyed this series sm and i’m so thankful 4 everyone who read n enjoyed it<33 im gonna miss it sm but keep a look out for my next music f1 series 😁

‘born to die’ series masterlist !

masterlist !

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“But are you really ready to settle down?” Y/b/f asked Y/n during their biweekly brunch dates. The topic of marriage came about after due to Y/n started wedding planning a few months after being engaged.

Her best friend knew her more than anyone. They grew up together. So Y/b/f knows that Y/n never wanted to settle down so quickly. She knew that she wanted to spend her 20s having fun and completing her master's.

Marrying someone who is already in their 40s and wants to settle down as soon as possible meant there was a conflict between their futures.

“I mean, not yet.” Y/n sighed, grasping into the cup of tea as she shrugged. “I love Fernando, I do. I don’t want kids yet. I want to wait a few years and-“

“But does he know that? That’s a man who wants to settle down already and have a house in the countryside. That’s a man who wants children soon.” Y/b/f interrupted her, genuine concern written all over her face. “He’s a great guy and I love that he makes you happy but is that what you really want? Having kids means giving up a lot and you know that I know that.” She added about her own child. “And He just signed another contract with Aston Martin. If you do have kids, he won’t be around to help you much.”

Y/n let out a groan, running her hands over her face. “I was lost before I met him. I was so confused as a little child but he gave me a sense of meaning. I love Nando, I truly do. But It’s just,” She sighed. She looks out the window of the restaurant and watches busy people walking down the sidewalks. “Now that I think about it, we view the next 5 years completely differently.”

Y/b/f reaches out and grabs her hand, forcing Y/n to look back at her. “Just think about it, okay? I love you and I just want the absolute best for you.”

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Y/n sat on the top step of the front patio of her shared home with Fernando, staring out onto the gloomy skies. Despite it being sunny when she was at brunch, by the time she got home it was drizzling. However, the rain usually calmed her and in a moment where she was deep in her thoughts, she definitely needed to be calmed.

She was so lost in her thoughts of her future that she didn’t notice her fiancé’s Aston Martin pulling up to the driveway. The Spaniard was confused as to why his fiancée was sitting on the patio with a sad look on her face.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He asked. He sat down next to her and caressed her arm. Hearing the concern laced in his voice was the triggering act for her.

“Do you think this is the right time for us to get married?” Y/n asked, keeping her eyes on her fiddling fingers. She hears Fernando’s breath hitch as he sits up straight.

“Why do you think that?”

“Fernando, you’re older than me, like a lot older and-“

“You just noticed?” He asked in a teasing tone in hopes to lighten the mood a bit.

She just sighed in response and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fernando, we both have different views of the next 5 to 10 years and you know that. I’m still young. I want to go out and party and enjoy my life. I just started my master's degree. But I know you want to retire in a few years. I know you want to have kids as soon as possible and settle down. But I-“

Y/n takes a deep breath as she glances up at her fiancé. “I don’t want that. Not yet at least. Not until I finish my master's. I don’t want to settle down just yet. Y/b/f had to stop so many things when she had her son. It makes me wonder if we’re really meant to be. Maybe you and I, we were born to die.”

Fernando’s minute of silence made her heart drop. He looked like he was lost in his thoughts, similar to how she was moments prior. “What are you even talking about, Y/n? We were born to die? Come on, mi amor!” He exclaimed, standing up to his feet. Her eyebrows furrowed up as she copied him by also getting on her feet, ignoring how the rain began to come down harder.

“Maybe it’s true, Fernando!”

“It’s bullshit.” He let out a laugh as he ran his hand over his beard. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s bullshit. Yes, we’re different ages. The road gets tough, it happens and I don’t know why, but we carry on. That doesn’t mean we’re born to die. Come on!” He continued, his eyebrows furrowed up.

“Are you even listening-“

“I am and what you’re saying is bullshit like I said!” Fernando responds, taking a step closer to her. “Amor, yes, I want children. Yes, I dream of us one day living on the coasts of Spain with our kids but that doesn’t mean I want it right away. I want you to achieve your degree. I want you to enjoy yourself first because it’s not up to me when we have kids. It’s all you.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do I have to do to prove this to you?”

Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion as she tilted her head. “What do you mean ‘prove’ it to me?” She asked, confused by his words.

He takes a step back with a shrug. “Prove that I don’t care if you want to wait to have kids. Prove that I wanna marry you because I love you, not to settle down.”

“Well, you don’t need to prove-“ She pauses in her words when she sees him take a step down. She lets out a sigh, her hands falling to rest by her side. She knew immediately by the glint in his eyes what he wanted to do. “Fernando, no. You’re going to get sick.”

He takes another step down.

“Fernando, stop that!”

He takes one step back and is immediately met with the pouring rain. In seconds, his clothes and hair were drenched but he didn’t care. Not one bit.

“Fernando, come back! The longer you stay there the more likely you’ll be sick.” She scolded him but he simply smiled in reply.

“I’m not leaving unless you join me.”

Y/n crosses her arms, glaring at Fernando who keeps smiling. She let out a sigh of defeat as she took a couple steps down the stairs and made it out into the rain. He immediately pulls her close by her waist. She lets out a yelp and balances herself by holding onto his shoulders.

“I love you and I want to marry you, mi amor. I don’t mind waiting 5, 10, even 15 years for us to have kids and ‘settle’ down.” He loudly says over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. “I just want you.”

She laughs in disbelief, resting her forehead against his chest. “We can figure it all out later, right?”

“It’s just you and me right now, mi amor,” Fernando says. He cups Y/n’s face with one hand, forcing her to look up. He took a second to admire her features and her messed-up makeup from the rain. He leans down, kissing her hard in the pouring rain. Her previous thoughts immediately washed away the moment she felt his lips on her. Maybe they weren’t born to die.

[hobby1008]

Night of Pleasure

If you use a translator, the sentences may be strange.

haerin X M Reader

Tags: creampie, Aphrodisiac, Drugged

You were living a boring daily life as usual. A daily life without joy due to the repetition of the same routine Then, a friend contacted you, and he contacted you saying that he had a girlfriend and wanted to introduce you to her. You readily accepted and invited her to your house.

You started preparing to welcome the couple.

After buying groceries at the mart, you started cooking to welcome your friend's couple.

You prepared meat and good alcohol for them, and you showed off your cooking skills to your heart's content as you prepared the rest of the dishes.

When the cooking was finished, they arrived just in time, and you immediately opened the door and welcomed them.

After a brief greeting with your friend, you looked at his girlfriend.

Her beautiful face, her cute and lovely face like a cat, captivated you, and you stared at her absentmindedly, and then your friend smiled with satisfaction and said, "I know my girlfriend is pretty, but can you let me into your house?"

You came to your senses and invited them into your house, and began to serve them the food you had prepared.

You treated them generously, talked to them, and started drinking.

As you drank one or two glasses, the mood gradually became more and more relaxed, and you intentionally gave your friend a lot of alcohol, trying to get him drunk.

Your efforts soon took effect, and he quickly became drunk.

You immediately moved him to the guest room and laid him down, and left the room, and approached her who was alone.

The two of you quickly became close due to the conversation and alcohol from earlier, and slowly spent time drinking alcohol.

“Haerin, I have a drink that I really cherish, would you like to try it?” She readily accepted with a smile, and you took out your most cherished drink, poured it, and secretly mixed a mysterious liquid in the glass and served it to her.

She took a shot without a doubt and you smiled while watching her, and sat next to her, intentionally sitting close to her, and the effects of the liquid started to take effect quickly.

She twisted her body as if she was uncomfortable somewhere. "Haerin, what's uncomfortable?" You deliberately put your hand on her body and asked, and she flinched at your touch and avoided your gaze.

You grabbed her chin and turned her gaze towards you, and started kissing her deeply.

At the same time, your hands began to explore her body.

She was surprised, but she didn't resist at all, and rather accepted you.

You decided to be more daring at her reaction, and took off all of her top without leaving anything behind.

Then her beautiful breasts were revealed. With her soft skin, her beautifully balanced breasts, and her nipples standing tall towards you, you wanted to suck them right away.

You first used both hands to gently rub her nipples. “Ah.. Don’t do this…” She said. You looked at her expression. Unlike her words, it was a lustful expression (with a little guilt left) and an expression of desperately wanting something, a mixture of both, and you slowly started to caress her nipple with your tongue for her.

She moaned as if she had been waiting, hugged your head, and guided you to her nipple, and you started to play with your tongue for her.

You licked her areola and tickled it with your tongue, and then sucked her nipple with your lips, and she moaned with happiness at your caress, and you caressed both sides alternately and then stepped back,

and her expression was in a state of complete lust, even the slight guilt she had just felt.

“Haerin, shall we have more fun?” She nodded as if she had been waiting, and you hugged her and headed to your bed.

After throwing her on the bed, both her clothes and yours disappeared right away. You immediately ran to her and started kissing her passionately.

You two kissed each other, tongues intertwining like a hotter couple than any other couple.

Then you pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. She had her eyes fixed on your cock.

You climbed on top of her and put your cock on her face. She looked like a cat eagerly waiting for her churu.

You took out the liquid that was in her drink for her and sprayed it on your cock. After confirming that your cock was covered in liquid, you told her. "Suck it."

She immediately opened her mouth and put your cock in her mouth and started sucking it. She was gently wrapping her mouth and tongue around every part of your cock, licking and sucking, tasting your cock.

In the meantime, she was becoming more obscene due to the effect of the liquid, and you placed both hands on her head and slightly shook your hips and used her face. Her cat-like eyes were looking up at you with excitement, and those eyes seemed to be asking you to use her face.

As if responding to that expression, you made her use her face at a faster pace.

After using her face so violently and releasing her, she was in a state of complete lust due to the effect of the drug.

After kissing her like that, you placed your cock at the entrance of her pussy and looked at her, she was eagerly waiting for it, and you started putting your cock in right away without hesitation.

“Ah——!” Hae-rin couldn’t help but scream, and you immediately fixed her and shook your waist violently. She was immersed in the pleasure and moaned happily as the immense pleasure she had never experienced before washed over her.

Your thrusts immediately hit her most secret and deepest part, and she looked up at you in lust, feeling immense happiness.

She was so drunk that she couldn't say anything, and only with her expressions and gestures she longed for your body, and you started to move your body for her.

Using your cock, completely swirling inside her pussy, and giving her the pleasure she so desperately wanted. She felt like she was about to orgasm, and she looked up at you and made a face that said please don't stop and put it in deeper, and she squeezed your cock hard, and you stabbed her favorite spot with all your might in response to her earnest request,

and she immediately let out a huge scream and a wave of heat rose from deep inside her pussy and wrapped around your cock. You continued to thrust deeper into her pussy with more force for her greater pleasure, and she began to sink into waves of immense pleasure.

A large amount of love juice sprayed into your groin, and your cock was pounding, and your back was arched, and you were in awe of her appearance. The sight of someone in such great pleasure was beautiful and even more exciting.

You also felt that you were about to reach your climax, When you said, "Hae-rin, I think I'm going to cum too," she bit her lower lip, Wrapped her legs around your waist, You decided to grant her earnest request.

You thrust into her pussy with all your might, And began to ejaculate a large amount of semen inside her.

Then she trembled with each wave of your semen, Feeling it, ejaculating all the semen, And lying down next to her. Then she lay down facing you, caressing your cheek, And kissed you. Then she stroked your cock again and said, "It's the best… Please make me happy all night long." You smiled and nodded at her words, And so we spent a night of pleasure without her boyfriend knowing.

You enjoyed it so much that you couldn't even remember how many times you ejaculated, And you had no more cum left.

She fell asleep, her body covered in your cum.

[lunarsworld]

༊*·˚ dirty little secret

warnings: MDNI ! smut, cursing, riding, p in v (lmk if im missing any) lyrics: “i don’t have to be the one, ༄˖° we don’t have to be in love” pairing: s1 bellamy blake x fem!reader

it was no secret that bellamy had his girls on the ground. everybody knew, including you. “trust me y/n, he’s only ever had eyes for you. this is just what all men do, they try to overcompensate for things they can’t have.” octavia says in a reassuring voice, while placing a hand on your shoulder. you grab the hand and smile at her words, knowing she’s right. however, nobody knows that you know how bellamy feels about you because he’s told you himself.

tonight was the same as any other, you went to bellamy’s tent after his “toys” left. before you can even enter though, he’s standing there shirtless and waiting. as soon as he sees you his whole face lights up and he pulls you into a tight hug. you roll your eyes and push him off because you know the real reason you came. “wow you act like i’m just your dick for the night, angel.” he says in a nervous tone, knowing what your reaction will be. “yea that’s because you are,” you say while walking into the tent, already stripping your clothes off. he frowns at you but begins to undress himself as well. he goes to kiss your lips, the only one’s he constantly yearns for, but before he can you put your hand over his mouth. “none of that tonight. i’m not your girlfriend, and i won’t be, so don’t act like i am. we don’t have to be in love.” you say, and in return he just nods his head and lays on his back. “sorry i was just tryna get you wet, angel. looks like you already got that covered though.” you ignore his comment and get on top of him.

god, you never get used to how he stretches you out everytime. he lets out a loud guttural moan, and you start rocking your hips. he starts to reach for your hips and you slap them away, “is this a new kink of yours princess? not having me touch you and having you do all the work?” again you ignore the comment and lose yourself in the moment. slowly, you begin to lose your pace because you forget how exhausted you get when his cock fills you to the brim. bellamy notices this and flips you over. “alright angel, i know you get what you want a lot but i think you wanna come too so how about you let me finish us off.” you nod your head in agreement. it’s odd how quiet you are tonight. yea, you’ve let out little whimpers here and there but not like you usually do. he starts pumping into you faster, hitting that spot just perfectly. “fuck- belly -so good, feels so good,” you moan out and he smirks. “now that’s what i like to hear, let it out angel.” he can tell your close because of the way your clenching around him and he starts rubbing your clit as fast as he can because he knows if your pissed off, getting you to come hard will definitely brighten your mood. “belly i’m close, please please please!” you scream out and latch your lips onto his neck out of fear of waking up the rest of the camp.

“fuck angel- i love you- fuck you feel so good. my fuckin good girl, all mine,” he groans out. just like every time. he peppers kisses around your entire face and jumps up to get you a shirt and a towel to help clean you up. as he walks away, all you can see are the bright purple hickeys along the right side of his neck. ‘fuck,’ you think, ‘he’s gonna be so pissed at me’. and just like that he spots himself in the mirror and runs his fingers over the hickeys. “if you wanted to let everyone know i’m yours you could’ve just asked.” he chuckles, but he doesn’t know that’s exactly what you want. you roll over on your side, ready to fall asleep, when he rudely flips you over. “nuh uh baby, gotta clean you up first. i may be a dick but i’ll always do aftercare for you.” you put on his tshirt and he lays on your chest while you play with his hair. he almost instantly knocks out, usually, and that means it’s time for your silent confession which he will never ever hear. “i wish you weren’t the way you were. i wanna love you but you make it so hard. wish you didn’t fuck all those girls, wish you weren’t such a dickhead, wish you would just be yourself so i could love you.” you say with a loud sigh.

“i’m sorry princess, i’m changing though.” he says, making you jump. “yea right,” you say nonchalantly , trying to make it sound like you meant for him to hear it. he just nods his head and goes back to sleep. maybe he was changing. because now that you think about it, you hadn’t seen those girls come over in a while actually, and he wasn’t as mean to everyone else.

and maybe, just maybe, he was becoming capable of being someone you could love without shame.

[chairofchaos]

Stormy Night in the Library

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Cozy, stormy Night Court reading night

Vibe: fluffy fluffy fluffy (Apparently I’m in an Azriel mood so enjoy!)

Warnings: None? If there should be any, let me know!

The book was… incredible. Emerie was right, the gentle adventure was exactly what you wanted for a night like tonight. With the thunder cracking outside and rain pelting against the window, there was nothing better than the roaring fire, a warm blanket, and a good book.

The only improvement that could be made would be having your mate sprawled in your lap on the couch, but he hadn’t made it home before the storm hit. Despite his promise he would be home for dinner, there wasn’t anything he could do about the weather. You had asked the House to keep his plate warm when he hadn’t arrived for dinner with you, Nesta, and Cassian, and you were sure it was still waiting for him, along with a note telling him exactly where you would be waiting.

A few chapters later, you heard the door swing open, and then shut again.

“Sweetheart,” Azriel murmured, bending down to kiss your forehead.

“Welcome home,” you said, reaching up to brush his wet hair out of his face. “You made it okay?”

He grumbled. “I need to warm up, but I’m fine.” 

“Please tell me you ate your dinner.”

“Of course I ate dinner. That stew is my favorite, and if I hadn’t you would have dragged me back out there where it is cold. May I?” He holds the corner of your blanket up with a quirked eyebrow. 

“Yes,” you laugh, “but no funny business- I’m in the last chapters of this book and I want to know what happens.”

Before you’re even finished speaking, Azriel has knelt between your knees and then stretched out, his legs sprawling off the end of the couch and his head in the crook of your neck. His wings stretch over the back of the couch on one side, and to the floor on the other, creating a little tent of warmth for you both. 

“Hmm,” he kisses you gently. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You kiss the top of his head. “You’re welcome, love.”

The storm slows, and for a while, the only sounds are the gentle exhales of Azriel’s breath, the turning of pages, and the roar of the fire. The main character has made a dumb decision- she’s trusting the character with the most dubious intentions instead of her best companion, and she doesn’t even recognize any of the tells which the author spells out. Your quick gasp draws a flutter from Azriel’s dozing eyelids, so you poke him in the cheek.

“Az.”

“Hmm…” he responds.

“Should we go to bed?”

“Bed?” he slurs sleepily. 

“Yes, Az. Bed. Sleep.”

He jolts suddenly, causing you to drop your book.

“I’m sorry,” he reaches to the ground, picking up your book where it fell. “Here.”

You chuckle. “You’re so tired, Az. Why don’t we go to bed?”

“It’s just so cozy right-” he kisses your chin, your jaw, the hollow of your throat- “here. What do you say we make a night out of it?”

“How?”

“I’ll go grab my book and some snacks. We’ll make a whole night out of this storm.”

“Perfect,” you smile at him, his eyes filled with light and the slightest hint of joyous mischief.

“I’ll be right back,” he leaps up, making sure to tuck your blanket back around you before jogging out of the room. You shake your head, laughing under your breath at your handsome mate. He quickly returns, bounding into the room and kicking the door shut again behind him. His arms overflow with two books, one from your bedside table and one from his, and a couple pastries and treats from the kitchen.

“Here we are. Brought you your next book, since you’re almost done with that one,” he smiles, settling it all on the coffee table. He offers you a pastry, and your next book. You take them, tucking the book between your body and the couch back, and biting into the snack. 

The chocolate filling of the flaky pastry fills your mouth, and you hum, letting your eyes slip closed.

He snorts, lifting the blanket again to rejoin you in its warmth. “Should I leave?” he quips. 

“Ha-ha,” you snark in return. “Only if you want to keep your hair intact.”

Azriel mocks offense, his low laughter quickly following to join with yours. “You love my hair too much to do anything to it.”

“Of course I do. Just like I love all of you,” you kiss him gently, slipping the hand which doesn’t have chocolate on it around the back of his neck. 

He chuckles into your lips, kissing you back gently before sighing contentedly. 

“How’s your book?”

You smile, showing him how far you’ve gotten, even since he had gotten home. “I’m nearly finished. It’s good- but I think the author’s left it on a cliffhanger, and the next one won’t come out for a while which will be a hard wait.” 

“Oh no. Well, at least you have a whole library to choose from.”

“The only thing to mend my broken heart,” you tease. 

He presses another kiss to your lips, grinning. “The only thing.”

“The best thing,” you giggle. His grin widens to a full smile.

“Well, at least I know where your priorities lie. When you’ve finished with the only real remedy for your heart, come home to me?”

“Always,” you smile, bending to kiss him again.

As you both return to your books, the storm picks up once again, rumbling with thunder. You finish the first book, which Az takes from you and places on the table, hardly looking away from his own book. Instead of grabbing your next book, you take a few moments to admire him. These are your favorite moments- together, and yet in your own little worlds. His face twists with obvious reactions, the only time he’s unguarded when he’s engaged in the escapism of a good book. You admire the way the firelight’s flickering reflects in his dark hair, twining the ends between your fingers. 

Eventually you both slip into sleep, Az’s hair twined between your fingers, his arms around your waist, and an open book on the floor beside the couch. The fire crackles on, a complement to the thunder and pelting rain. Cozy against the cold, you and Azriel sleep peacefully, the joy of simple togetherness being entirely unmatched, content in each other's arms.

[begko]

keep quiet. -seijoh 4

warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else

contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)

wc: 1.2 k

a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!

Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys. 

They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience. 

Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors. 

“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.

Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.

“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!” 

Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 

“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.

“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.

While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.

You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on. 

Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.

“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?” 

“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.

After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie. 

You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?

“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”

[meteor752]

My preference for Ody/god ships are so funny (when it comes to smut, I like the romantic stuff slightly or more toxic)

Ody/Zeus? Ody is always sub and bottom, Zeus is too proud to not be dominant 🙄

Ody/Poseidon? Ody is always bottom, before 600 Strikes he's more submissive, after this he's an agressive, sadistic power bottom. Poseidon is feeling like he's topped though. Destroy this shark guy's ego

Ody/Hermes? They're all over the place. They're switches and versatiles. Sub bottom Hermes is still manipulative though. I think Hermes will do anything to keep Ody at his side

I think Ody/Athena would be a fun ship, but I don't see them doing any sexual stuff 😔

And I know they're not in the musical, but Ody/Persephone/Hades 😳 Persephone is definitely a femdom

Also, Ody/Zeus/Poseidon is so good 😼

Zeus needs to be dominant, no matter who he takes to bed, and if his partner even tries to take control then he might just straight up kill them. Odysseus also learn very quickly that he wants to be worshipped, something he’s more than happy to do if it means he’s kept in good favour.

I think Odysseus could top, and even be the dom at certain points, but it will always be on Poseidon’s terms. He is the one who has all the control, don’t get it twisted, he just sometimes likes it when Ody gets all aggressive, and well, ruthless with him. Extra attractive to him since he’s the one who made him like that. But usually Poseidon is the one on top, and oh boy he likes to play it rough. He’s probably Odysseus’ least favourite of the gods.

Oh Ody and Hermes is like, just a whole thing. Just like with Poseidon, Hermes will always have control of the scene, even when he lets Odysseus lead. He can be very mean though, especially when he’s the dominant, though not often enough that Odysseus would associate it with him. He may seem very impulsive and flippant, but every move he makes when it comes to his mortal is very calculated. Aftercare is usually lovely though.

The way I see Odysseus and Athena is that she is laying all her attention on him. She’s ace and sex just does kinda nothing for her, but on the rare occasion that she forms a connection with someone she doesn’t mind it, as long as she’s not like, fully apart of it (weird phrasing but idk how to phrase it lol). She’ll stroke, caress, and show love to him, truly taking it slow and affectionate, and enjoys seeing the bliss her warrior is in. She’d probably be Odysseus fave tbh.

Persephone and Hades would probably take Odysseus like, once in a blue moon, mainly as a way for Hades to piss off his brothers (Persy is just along for the ride. She loves her husband, what can I say?).

Also, I see Persephone and Hades as fully like, taking turns when it comes to dominance, depending on their moods and stuff. They have a lot of talks and communication around it, it’s very healthy.

While Zeus can be kinda soft (if not a little selfish) with his lovers when it’s just him, he gets way more aggressive when his older brother gets involved. He needs to establish is dominance over Poseidon at all times or he might explode, and Poseidon just grits his teeth and bears it. Poor Odysseus is just caught in the middle of all this, but Zeus is surprisingly a more attentive lover when Poseidon is in the picture, so it’s not all bad.

Is this my legacy?

[bytemee]

chapter four. | WHERE DO YOU SLEEP? — YU JIMIN.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — y/n, a rising music producer, has built her dream career while keeping her personal life under wraps. karina, aespa’s leader, is preparing for a huge comeback with a mini album produced and written by the one and only y/n.

karina knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and she has to nail it. the only problem is, she may be a bit distracted by her producer.

something about their connection feels different—like maybe it's worth the risk of prying eyes. but how much will they give up to chase after what they want?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — includes texts, kissy kissy, more suggestive jokes aha, tad angst idk?? and i think that's all.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 3k

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲— i would update this more often but i second guess my writing so much

taglist (open) — @sunshinez4 @gtfoiydlyj @yuyuy90 @liaponderstings @rinapomu

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next.

"ah, shit!" you mumble at your phone screen, a deep frown on your lips. it was already the afternoon; you had spent the morning rotting in your hotel bed since you were free of schedules for the day, but now you were in the car with your manager coming back from a quick shopping trip because you didn't have anything better to do.

"what happened?" your manager asks, leaning over to see what the problem was. he lets out a small chuckle, and you shoot him a look. "oh, no, that's not good," he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

you stare at him.

"it's not funny! i was so close to beating my high score!" subway surfers wasn't just a game to you; it was your life. your whole world revolves around getting that high score and having your name at the top of the global leaderboard. you were so close, too, but that train came out of nowhere and ended your run.

you let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back against the seat and crossing your arms over your chest. "i was so close," you mumble again, a pout on your lips. looking out the window, you watch the city pass by in a blur, the weather of seoul matching your mood—gloomy and overcast.

it was supposed to start raining soon.

your phone buzzes suddenly, and you look at the screen, your mood brightening a bit when you see the message.

a smile pulls at the corners of your lips.

tucking your phone away just as your manager glances over at you. you thin out your lips and stare the older man directly in the eyes, and he raises an eyebrow, but you quickly look away, whistling a tune to act nonchalant.

"you and karina are getting close, huh?" he says. you feel a blush creeping up your neck as you nod in response, trying to hide your smile. "she's just a friend," you say, hoping he doesn't notice the way your voice cracks slightly.

"just a friend, hm?"

"yeah," you lie, nodding once more.

there was a small pause of silence.

"i'm happy for you. i really am," he starts. here we go. the speech you've been dreading.

"but," he continues, because of course there's a but, "you've got to be careful. both of you are high-profile. you know how this industry is—fans, tabloids, all of it. the last thing you need is a dating rumor with karina."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat. "i know," you mumble.

"i mean it. her fans are..." he hesitates, searching for the right word. "passionate. and yours aren't exactly laid-back, either."

"yeah, i know," you repeat, this time a little more forcefully.

your manager lets out a long sigh. "look, i just don't want to see you get hurt again."

that makes you pause. you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. he's right—your fans and jimin's aren't exactly laid-back. you'd heard about the backlash from her last dating relationship, and you definitely don't want to go through that again with someone you've just begun seeing. it's a lot of pressure, but you know you have to be careful with how public you make your relationship. the last thing you want is for things to blow up in your face like they did with your last girlfriend.

you were 19, and it was the biggest mistake you've ever made. you were too young and naïve, and the relationship had crashed and burned within a few weeks. your fans didn't handle it well. it was all over the news, and even though the two of you tried to keep the relationship private, everyone had their eyes on you, and it was the most uncomfortable situation you'd ever been in.

comments like, "you deserve better," and, "she's not worthy of your time," filled the comment section of your social media, and it took awhile for the negative reactions to calm down. your fans are passionate, and while it can be overwhelming at times, you're so grateful for them. they've been by your side through thick and thin. you love them so much, and they care about you so much that it can sometimes be overbearing.

regardless of all that, you and your ex are still friends to this day, and you've managed to keep things cordial despite everything that happened. she understood the pressure you were under, and there was no bad blood when you decided to end things. it was a mutual decision—one made out of necessity rather than a lack of feelings. but the aftermath was something you never wanted to experience again.

"yeah, i get it," you murmur, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. "i'll be careful. i promise."

your manager gives you a knowing look, his expression softening. "i know you will. i just... i see how happy you look these days. i don't want anything to ruin that for you."

you nod, appreciating his concern. he's been with you since the start of your career and knows you better than most people. he's seen the highs and lows, and he's always been there to guide you through it.

things with jimin already feel so different—easier, more natural. but with her being who she is and you being who you are, there's no denying that the stakes are high. it would be foolish not to acknowledge that, and you're not one to jump into things headfirst without thinking about the consequences.

you're not 19 anymore.

your phone buzzes again, pulling you out of your thoughts. it's another message from her.

"do you mind picking me up from my dorm?"

"not at all. i can be there in an hour or so."

"sounds good. can't wait."

"hurry, hurry!" you usher at jimin, holding your hands above her head in an attempt to shield her from the pouring rain. she laughs, ducking underneath your makeshift umbrella of hands, and the two of you sprint towards your driver's parked car just a few feet away.

"you know this isn't really helping, right?" she teases, but she's still smiling, her eyes shining with amusement as the rain pelts her hair and clothes.

"it's the thought that counts!" you fire back, grinning as you reach the car. the door swings open, and the two of you clamber inside, panting. your driver glances at you through the rearview mirror before turning on the heat full blast, trying to help the two of you dry off.

"you're a terrible umbrella," she quips, pushing a few wet strands of hair out of her face.

"you're so cruel, jimin." you feign hurt, leaning your head against her shoulder as the car begins to move, the sound of the windshield wipers providing a comfortable background noise. with no hesitation, jimin's head rests on top of yours, her cheek pressing against the dampness of your hair.

"i'm joking," she reassures, gently resting her hand on top of yours, which was lying against her thigh, your pinkie drawing small circles on her leg. "do you think your grandma will like me?"

you smile at her question, taking in a deep breath before responding, "yeah, she's excited to meet you."

"really?"

"of course. i told them you're the one behind all my sleepless nights lately," you joke, earning a slap on the arm from the older woman.

"ouch," you say, rubbing your arm, but you're laughing.

jimin scoffs, shaking her head.

your grandma greeted the two of you with a warm smile and open arms, along with kimchi-jjigae, banchan, and freshly steamed rice already laid out on the table. the smell wafted through the house, making your stomach growl in anticipation.

"ah, you're here!" she exclaimed, hugging you and then moving on to hug a shy and timid-looking jimin. "and this must be your friend. so beautiful!"

jimin bowed respectfully, a warm smile on her lips. "thank you for having me." your grandma chuckled, patting jimin's hands. "such a polite girl. come, come. sit down before the food gets cold."

the two of you settled down at the table, and your grandma sat across from the two of you, watching you with a fond smile. you began eating, chatting, and laughing as the three of you ate together. your grandma was a great cook, and the meal was delicious, and it wasn't long before a big book was set in front of the both of you, photos sticking out of every page.

your grandma began flipping through the album, showing off old photos of you as a kid. the first few were okay—embarrassing, yes, but tolerable.

then she landed on a particular photo, and you froze.

it was a picture of you when you were about eight years old. you were dressed up in a little yellow dress, your hair in two braids, and a pair of bunny ears sitting atop your head.

you had forgotten about the bunny ears.

"oh, my god," you mumbled, burying your face in your hands, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of red.

"is... that you?" jimin asked, pointing at the photo, her eyes wide with amusement as her jaw dropped. "yes, that's me," you grumbled, your voice muffled through your hands. you dared to peek through your fingers and immediately regretted it. jimin was practically bouncing in her seat, a grin plastered across her face as she leaned closer to the photo.

"what a cute girl! i remember this outfit." your grandma said, a huge grin on her face. "it was from the school festival. she wanted to dress up like a bunny—" jimin eagerly nodded, her gaze moving back and forth between the book and your grandmother.

"that's so cute," she said, laughing, and your grandma nodded.

your grandma turned the page in the album, her laugh bubbling up again as another photo caught her attention. "oh, look at this one," she said, pointing to a picture of you as a toddler, sitting in a high chair with your face completely smeared with what looked like chocolate cake.

jimin leaned forward, a wide smile on her face.

"look at her little cheeks," she gushed, pointing to your puffed-out baby cheeks in the photo.

"please, please, please. no more. i'm begging you."

neither of them looked up.

"wait, wait," jimin said, pointing at another photo. "is that flour? oh my, she's covered head to toe!"

your grandma burst out laughing, tapping the photo with her finger. "yes! she wanted to help me bake cookies, but she ended up making more of a mess than anything else. look at her face—completely indignant."

a small pout formed on your face as you crossed your arms. they seemed to be in their own little world, completely forgetting about your presence in the room. the pout leaves your face, replaced by a smile when you realize how happy she was making your grandmother—how happy they were making each other.

watching the two of them bonding warmed your heart. they seemed to hit it off immediately, and it was obvious that they were getting along. you clasped your hands together, resting your chin on top as you watched them. in this moment, you didn't mind being forgotten. seeing jimin this comfortable, sharing laughter and memories with one of the most important people in your life, felt like its own kind of magic.

it felt so domestic, and you found yourself wanting more moments like this, wanting to see her smiling and laughing with your family, to hear stories of your childhood, to watch her bond with those closest to you.

you wanted more, and the realization sent a wave of emotion washing over you.

but it also brought with it a feeling of fear.

after all, you're human. you've tasted what happens when you give too much of yourself, when you let someone in and the world takes notice. you didn't know how far this thing with her would go, but if history was any indication, the odds weren't exactly in your favor. you cared for her deeply, and you knew that if that time came, ending things wouldn't be easy, not by a long shot.

this wasn't just about you anymore. jimin had her own career, which involved other people you also care about, and if the two of you were caught, if the relationship was discovered, the repercussions would be massive.

could you handle being responsible for that? could she?

jimin glanced up at you, catching your gaze. a slow smile crept onto her lips, and her eyes crinkled at the corners. just for a moment, just for now, you pushed the worries out of your mind.

and instead, you just smiled back.

the photo album neared its end; your grandma let out a satisfied sigh, gently closing the book. "ah, so many memories. i'm glad i got to share them with such a lovely guest." she patted jimin's hand, who blushed at the praise.

your grandma stood from the table, collecting the photo album and placing it back on the shelf. "you two should take some time to relax. y/n, why don't you show her your old room?"

you nodded, pushing back your chair as jimin followed your lead. you led her down the hallway, pointing out old family photos along the way. opening the door to your childhood room, you watched as jimin's eyes lit up, a wide smile spreading across her face.

the walls were a pale blue color, with white trim and a small window that looked out onto the garden. there was a twin-size bed, covered with a floral-patterned quilt, and a dresser topped with a few knickknacks.

jimin walked around the room, examining the shelves lined with trophies, ribbons, and other awards from various music competitions you'd won when you were a kid. there were also pictures of you with various teachers, a few framed magazine clippings, and some old concert tickets displayed proudly on the walls.

you watched her from your bed, leaning back on your elbows as she explored. "your room is so nice," she said, running her fingers along the spines of some books on a shelf.

"yeah?" you replied, and she nodded, glancing over her shoulder at you.

"it's cute. like you."

you turned away muttering something under your breath, and she laughed, plopping down next to you on the bed. her hand reached behind you, grabbing a stuffed animal off the shelf and holding it up to your face.

"what's this?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

in an instant, you lunged for it, but she was too fast, pulling it out of your reach with a laugh. you narrowed your eyes at her, trying again, and again, you failed.

"what's his name?" she asked, her voice playful as she held the stuffed animal behind her back of her stretched body, just out of your grasp.

"mr. flopsy, okay? now give him back!" you exclaimed, making a third attempt to grab the stuffed animal, which she once again moved out of your reach.

"fine," you muttered, a sly grin creeping onto your face. you feigned giving up, and as soon as her hand fell, you struck. grabbing mr. flopsy and putting him behind your back before laying down on top of the brown stuffed bear, letting out a victorious laugh.

"you're suffocating him!" jimin yelled, crawling on the bed toward you, trying to save mr. flopsy from his untimely demise.

"he's fine," you retorted, rolling your eyes at jimin's dramatics. "i raised him to be tough and resilient, just like me."

"no, he's not," she said, climbing on top of you, her legs on either side of your body, reaching for mr. flopsy. she couldn't even reach him. her fingers barely scraped the fabric; instead, it felt like she was trying to tickle you, and that only made you lean deeper against the bed, laughing even harder.

noticing your giggles, she gave up on reaching for mr. flopsy and started tickling you relentlessly, her fingers digging into your sides. you squirmed, kicking your legs in the air, trying to escape her playful assault.

"stop, stop!" you managed to gasp between laughs, but she only laughed along with you, not stopping. "what?" she teased, and you squealed, grabbing her hands and intertwining your fingers with hers to stop the tickling.

both of you were gasping for air, and you stared at each other, eyes watering and chests heaving. the laughter slowly died down, and then it was just the two of you, alone in the quiet.

a beat passed.

her gaze softened as she looked down at you, her smile fading into something more tender. you blinked up at her, not sure what to say, not sure what to do, feeling like your brain had short-circuited.

then, she leaned closer, the space between you disappearing inch by inch. her nose brushed yours, and your breath hitched, sharp and unsteady. you caught the flicker of her tongue as she wet her lips, her eyes never leaving yours.

and then, her lips met yours. at first, it was gentle, almost hesitant. her hands stayed tangled with yours, her grip tightening slightly, and you pressed back, your head tilting slightly to the right, your mouth opening wider, the kiss becoming less innocent.

her soft sigh mingled with yours as the kiss deepened, her tongue sliding against yours, warm and wet. you let go of her hands, moving an arm to wrap around her frame as she leaned into you, arms circling your neck and her body molding against yours.

it was intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting more.

you were dragging yourself into a hole you might not be able to dig out of, and yet, you didn't care. the risks, the potential consequences, the worry—the worry—you were telling yourself that none of it mattered because you were willing to take the risk. you were willing to put your heart on the line, your career, your reputation, everything.

you were willing to do it all for her.

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next.

a/n: no they did not get freaky.