#staring me dead in the eyes from my fridge

[midnightmisty]

too sweet - chapter 1

masterlist | ao3

18+ !no outbreak joel x f!reader Summary:

“Joel—are you su—” “Let’s go.” Ten minutes ago, you were sitting in a freezing police station with no phone, no money, and a record waiting to happen. Then Joel Miller—your daddy's ex best friend—walked in, spoke six words to the cop, and took you home like you already belonged to him. Now you’re in his house. Wearing his shirts. Sleeping in his spare room. He buys you a brand new phone, stocks the fridge with things he knows you like, leaves cash on the counter like it’s nothing.

In which Joel Miller ends up being your sugar daddy who absolutely ruins you.

author's note: hi, this is my first time publishing fanfiction to tumblr. (please tell me if i'm not doing something right.) i've only been an ao3 author(bridgerton/stranger things). so here is sugar daddy joel. now, it's not full on. it's not he's buyin' her expensive stuff — think practical sugar daddy? i'd like to thank my bff karina for encouraging me to try another fandom out.

tags: content warning!! blowjob, male orgasm, dbf!joel, joel miller x f!reader, lots of smut, slowburn on romance, dom joel, alternative universe - no outbreak, !light sugar daddy, sugar daddy/sugar baby, joel is bad at feelings, age gap, joel is 50s x reader is 26-27.

word count: 4.2k status: ongoing.

chapter 1: i'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to somethin'

I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three you're too sweet for me

The police station ain’t exactly the best place to be on a Thursday night. 

It’s cold. The bright lights are flickerin’ on and off giving you a headache that rings in your skull. You sit there, arms crossed, eyes on the dirty tile like it might somehow make the time pass a little faster. 

How the hell did you end up here?

Well, that’s easy. Your dad. 

Fraud. Money Laundering. Stolen Cars. 

Stealing cars? Yeah. That included the one you were driving home. 

Figures. 

The lobby’s dead. Cold air blowing in from the doors, buzzing lights, and the smell of someone’s dinner filled the air. Nobody wants to sit at a police station unless they have to. Fuck, you just wanna go home. 

To make matters fuckin’ worse, you lost your phone. 

You had the cop call Tommy—your dad’s friend, well sort of. The only one who might answer and not make a huge scene out of all of this. 

That was over an hour ago. 

Were you going to be stuck here forever?

The officer walks over, bored expression and a small note pad in his hand. “Tommy answered,” he says. “Said his brother’s on his way.” 

He looks down at the paper in his notebook. “Joel, I think his name was.” 

Fuck. Joel.

Joel was your dad’s best friend. Well…before all this.

Told him not to get involved in all that messy shit. Warned him somethin’ bad was going to happen. Said it to him straight, like he always did. But your dad…he didn’t listen. He never really did.

You grew up around Joel around. He was there–almost every barbecue, every holiday. Always showing up with a six pack and that quiet look that always said so much more than your dad’s drunk yelling ever did. After your mom left, he stuck around. Checked in every once in a while. Fixed your car when your dad was too drunk to. Made sure your dad didn’t drink himself stupid. You’d watch his daughter, Sarah, she was younger, always tagging along like a little shadow. 

He was always around. 

That’s what made this worse. 

You sigh and stare down at the checkered tile, the kind that somehow looks dirty even when it’s scrubbed clean. You’re just waiting now. For this mess to be over. For a way out. 

The front door creaks open. Heavy boots echo across the lobby floor.  You don’t even have to really look up to know who it is. 

It’s Joel. Rugged. Grey streaks in his hair. Worn denim and that damn tan jacket he’d had for years. Jeans. Boots scruffed. That look on his face—the one he wore when someone around him did something stupid. Like this wasn’t the first time he had to clean up someone else’s mess. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, casually, like you’re not sitting in a fucking police station. 

“Hey,” you mutter back, quietly. 

“Y’they lettin’ you go?” Joel asks. 

You shrug. Been there for hours at this point and honestly, no one’s told you shit. 

“They won’t say much,” you say. “Talkin’ to me like I’m five.” 

Joel doesn’t say much. Just walks over to the cops, starts talking in that low voice that somehow makes people listen. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. Between work and part-time classes, life just… got in the way. 

But Joel?

He hasn’t really changed. He’s always had this way of making you feel—calm. Safe, maybe. Even now. Joel handles shit the way men are supposed too. Not like other people who’d just talk too loud and make things a thousand times worse. 

You find yourself staring. Too long. Watching him as he talks to the cop, his voice low, hands in his pockets like he doesn’t have a worry in the world. Like he’s got everything handled. 

Joel walks back over, his expression unreadable. 

“Get your stuff,” he says. 

“–Joel—are you su–” 

“Let’s go.” 

You grab your backpack, sling it over your shoulder, and follow him out. 

He’s already at the truck, passenger door open, just waiting. It’s newer, bigger, and cleaner. You can smell the leather and sawdust as you climb in. 

Your dad had mentioned the construction business was doing well. Said Joel had a crew now. Jobs lined up for months. You’d seen it too; last year at the neighborhood barbecue, when he showed up in a clean shirt and boots that didn’t look like he’d been wearing them for a decade. 

He shuts the door and doesn’t look at you. Just rounds the truck, climbs in, and starts the engine. He doesn’t say a word as he drives. Neither do you. 

Feels like Joel don’t even know what to say. Truth is, you don’t either. He just picked you up from a goddamn police station. You were so fucking close to being tangled up in your dad’s mess. 

“Where ya stayin’?” he asks finally. “Dorm?” 

You shake your head. “No…I–uh.” 

School wasn’t something you could afford anymore. Had to drop to part-time. Scrape by. Make payments late and hope the university didn’t send you notices. Your dad was paying for it. 

Until he wasn’t. 

“I’m crashin’ at a friends,” you mutter. “Just ‘til I find somewhere.” 

“Your dad said you were livin’ in the dorms,” Joel says. “Or was he payin’ for that?” 

“He was.” 

Joel just nods. Doesn’t say nothin’ else for a while. His eyes fixated on the road. 

“You’re comin’ home with me,” he says. 

“Joel…” you sigh. “It’s fine. I’m good, really, I promi–”

“You’re stayin’,” he says, sharper now. “Got the space. You don’t gotta figure this shit out on ya own.” 

You nod, slow. “Ain’t forever,” he says, looking over. “Just ‘til ya get settled.” 

And you can’t help but wonder— Is he just sayin’ that ‘cause you’re his friend's kid? His only kid. “Ya eaten anythin’?” Joel asks. 

You shake your head. “No.”

Before you know it, Joel’s pulling into your favorite fast food place. Doesn’t ask. Just knows. 

Maybe–just maybe–this won’t be so bad.

Stayin’ with your dad’s best friend? Can’t be the end of the world.

Right?

🎀🌟🎀💫🎀✨🎀🌸🎀💖🎀🌟🎀💫🎀✨

You wake up to the smell of bacon. Don’t know what time it is. Don’t even remember falling asleep, really. First night in a new place–well, not new. Just unfamiliar. Same floors, same creaky hall, different energy. 

You slept in a baggy T-shirt Joel gave you last night. Soft, worn with a hole in the bottom of it, it smelled like fabric softener. You stretch, muscles feeling stiff, hair a fuckin’ mess, then slip out of bed. The house is quiet as you wander downstairs, your feet brushing against the cold hardwood floors. The clock in the living room blinks:12:30. 

Fuck. 

You step into the kitchen, Joel’s at the stove, back to you, flipping something in a pan. He looks over his shoulder, shakes his head at you. 

“It’s past noon,” he says. “Whole damn mornin’ gone, sunshine.” 

“I don’t ‘member what time I fell asleep,” you mumble through a yawn. “Hard to sleep.” 

Joel doesn’t say anything. Just keeps working at the stove, like he hears you, like he understands what you mean. You sit down at the table. The chair creaks loudly under you. It’s strange being here. Still not yours.  But it’s quiet. Feels like something solid after years of nothing but mess. 

It was quiet for a while. Just the sound of the pan and the clock on the wall ticking. Then he moves, walks over, grabs something from his bag. A small box. Black Bow. 

He sets it down in front of you. 

“Ain’t like not bein’ able to reach you,” he says, firmly. “Use it. Set it up how you want.” 

You look down. It’s a phone, a brand new one. You’re speechless. You’re not even sure what to say to him. Joel doesn’t look at you. “Didn’t ask what color,” he mutters. “Don’t bitch.” 

“Joel–you—” you start. 

He cuts you a look, a look that was sharp. You know better than to argue with him. 

“Thank you,” you say, quietly. 

He sets a plate of breakfast down in front of you, still hot. He writes something quickly on a different piece of paper, then he grabs a scrap of paper and a pen from the counter. 

“I’ll grab your stuff later,” he says. “Write the address.” 

That’s it. No offer for you to go with. No questions. You just do it. 

Used to bite people’s heads off who told you what to do. Your parents, they constantly told you what to do. Exhausted you with it.  But with Joel? You don’t. You just listen. 

“You sure you don’t want me to come?” You ask, quietly. 

“Quicker if I do it myself,” he mutters. 

You write the address. Slide it over and he grabs the paper, grabs his work bag. Doesn’t say nothin’ else. Just leaves. 

Now you’re alone. In Joel’s house. 

You look down at the box, phone still laying neatly inside.

He bought you a phone. Just like that. No big talk about it, no strings attached. You’re sleepin’ in his spare room. Eating his food. Staying here “until you figure shit out.” 

And he’s not asking for a damn thing. Why does that feel so fuckin’ strange?

That he’d just do this. No questions. No rules. Just–here. 

You finish up your breakfast, scrape the plate, head to the sink.  There is a note. 

Home late. 

Order Pizza. 

–Joel. 

Twenty dollars sitting on top of it. That’s it.

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It’s been almost two weeks at Joel’s. 

Feels longer. Feels like nothing. He’s barely home. Out before you wake up, back late. 

You get rides to work. Keep your head down mostly. Classes are on break ‘til spring, not that you’ve paid your tuition bill at all. You’re not even sure if you can. 

Joel doesn’t say much. But he does things. 

Keeps the fridge stocked. Leaves a clean towel on the counter for you to shower. Bought you face wash last week–just left it by the sink. No note. No comment. Just there. 

You never asked for any of it. You keep wondering what he gets out of this. 

It’s not like you’re doing anything. Not helping. Not giving him a reason to keep getting you things. You just exist in this house. Taking up space. Most likely annoying him.  You’ve started thinkin’ maybe you should cook dinner.

Something simple. Just…something. Feels like the least you could do. Joel’s never been picky. Not that you know. But cooking feels like a way to give a little back.  It’s been quiet though. He works all the time. But not the bad kind. 

The kind that makes you feel safe, but drives you mad. Still, you’ve found yourself lying awake more than once, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he’s doing just down the hall. If you knocked on the door; if you asked to just sit with him. Would he let you?

You don’t. 

There’s a line. 

Should you cross it? No. Yes.  No. 

Today, you got home later than usual. Picked up a shift at the restaurant  for a friend. Didn’t mind it–kept yourself busy to keep out of your head. You take a quick shower when you get in. Let the water rinse the entire day off your skin. Let yourself feel clean again. 

You head downstairs, barefoot. Hair still damp, dripping down your back. Thin tank top. Shorts. Should be fuckin’ freezin’, it’s winter. But Joel kept the house warm for you. 

You round the corner and see him. 

Feet kicked up on the coffee table. One hand wrapped around a half-empty beer. TV playing some old black-and-white western, the kind he’s probably seen a hundred times. He doesn’t look away from the screen. 

Just says–

“C’mere.” 

You do. No hesitation. 

You walk over, eyes landing on the screen. “What’s on?” 

Joel doesn’t look over at you.

“Nothin’ good,” he mutters. 

You sit beside him. Close, but not too close. His arm draped around the back of the couch. Casual. Calm. But it’s there. 

He smells like cedar soap. The kind you saw in the shower earlier. And underneath that–sawdust and a little bit of sweat after a long day. 

After a while, he speaks. “Work was a bitch.” 

You look over at him. His head leaned back, eyes on the ceiling. Then his hand drags down his face, slowly. He looked tired, completely worn out. 

“Delivery truck didn’t show,” Joel mutters. “Big job. Had me on the damn phone all day with some fuckin’ kid who didn’t know shit.” 

He shakes his head and takes a slow slip of his beer. 

“Bein’ in charge just means cleanin’ up everybody else’s fuckups.” 

It’s the first time he’s ever opened up and said anything about work. Or when you think about it, his day. 

You reach out to him, slowly. Hand resting on his arm–just above the elbow, your touch so light and careful. Your thumb moves softly over the fabric of his shirt. You’re nervous. You shouldn’t be. 

But you are. 

Your fingers keep fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. 

You look up at him. “You do a lot,” you say. “You…deserve to relax.” 

He tenses, shoulders shift, like he’s a little caught off guard. You freeze–should you stop? But…he isn’t pulling away. Doesn’t move at all. So, you leave your hand there. Fingers dancing along his arm. You’re not trying to push, just trying to be there. A quiet way of showing that you care. 

He continues to watch the movie, keeping his eyes on it like nothing’s changed. You feel the change in him, the tension, the stillness. Like he’s holding his breath and doesn’t even realize it. 

The movie keeps playing, slow, pointless background now. You’re used to the quiet now, used to him. Joel’s never been a man who needed to fill the space with words.  You don’t even realize how much time’s passed. Not ‘til Joel shifts. Subtle, just barely. Then his hand finds your knee. He still doesn’t say anything, just leaves it there.

A minute later, it moves. Slow. Steady. 

Fingers drifting up, stopping just shy of the hem of your shorts. He squeezes your thigh lightly. Then his fingers slip higher, pushing your shorts up a little, settling on the bareskin. Like it’s nothing, like he’s just mindlessly doing it. 

Your breathin’ practically stops. He just keeps watching tv, and doesn't flinch. Doesn't look over at you. Maybe he didn’t notice. Or maybe, he did. He just keeps watching the screen like nothing’s changed. 

But…something has changed. 

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Joel’s been on your mind for weeks. 

Won’t leave your head. Not when you’re awake, not when you’re dreaming. You know it’s wrong–thinking about him like that. Wanting him so fuckin’ bad it keeps you awake. 

Imagining what it would feel like for your lips to be on his, him on top of you. Imagining what it would be like to knock on his door in the middle of the night. But you don’t. You stop yourself…every time. 

After that night on the couch, movies became your routine. Evenings where he wasn’t workin’ late, you’d sit together on the couch, watching whatever you’d bicker about puttin’ on.

Somehow it was just…easy. 

Money left on the counter without a word. A new pair of headphones when you complained that yours stopped workin’. Always buyin’ your favorite snacks. One afternoon, last thursday, he dropped you off at the mall–handed you his credit card. 

Said, “Get what you want.” 

Still, somehow, didn’t ask for anything back. 

But no matter what, you settled nicely into this routine. Nights with Joel. He’d sit beside you on the couch, he’d rub your leg with that hand of his, like he didn’t even realize he was doin’ it. You’d lay against him sometimes, feel his chest through that old flannel, watchin’ whatever movie he picked–usually some western, sometimes an action flick that had low ratings. 

One night, you talked him into Friday the 13th. 

He just grumbled about it being total nonsense. 

But he still watched it all the way through. 

You wanted to cross that line, needed to. Every night, it got so much harder not to. But you held back. 

Until now…

You woke up late. House was quiet already. Joel was gone… at work. 

But when you walk into the kitchen, there’s a box on the counter. Wrapped, a bow on top of it. Joel’s thing he did with his gifts for you. 

You recognize it before you even open it—the necklace. The one your mom gave you. The one that snapped last week when it got caught on your sweater. He fixed it. Didn’t say a word. Just left a little note folded under the ribbon. 

For you, Darlin’. 

—Joel. 

You’ve been tryin’ to get used to the gifts. 

To the way Joel leaves things for you without a word. Pays for what you need. Asks for nothin’ back. You don’t know if it’s guilt over your dad bein’ locked away—or if he just likes takin’ care of you. 

There’s a part of you that wrestles with it. That still wants to earn it somehow.

But there is another part. One that secretly loves the idea of being taken care of. 

You made him dinner tonight, even he was a little shocked. He ate in silence, like he asked. You left him there while you showered. Now you’re headin’ back downstairs. Back to him. 

Back to this new routine. 

You’re wearin’ one of his shirts–big, warm right out of the dryer. You took it from his drawer a few weeks ago, he didn’t notice. 

But he’s seen it on you. 

“We ain’t watchin’ another one of them damn horror movies,” Joel grumbled, settling back on the couch. “Last one was fuckin’ terrible.” 

You roll your eyes as you sit down next to him. “Fine,” you mutter. “You pick, then. Since I’m so awful at it.” 

He picks some older movies. Lettin’ it play in the background, more noise than anything else. You take a small sip of beer he put out for you. 

“How was work?” you ask softly. Joel just huffs. Doesn’t look over. “Long,” he says. “Tired of dealin’ with people who don’t know what the hell they’re doin’.”

He seemed a little better when he walked through the door. A little less stressed out. You wonder if it’s the movies. The silence. Just sittin’ together. 

You lean into him, slow, like you always do. And he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t shift away from you. He’s gotten used to it.

You watch him. Not sayin’ a word—just takin’ in the way his jaw stays tighty, the way he grips his beer a little too firm. Eyes on the TV, but not really watchin’. He’s so wound up. You can see it. The movie drags on, just background noise between the two of you now.  You debate it. Talk yourself out of it. Then back into it. Then out again. 

And then his hand moves. To your thigh, fingers slowly grazing your skin. Like he means it this time. 

Fuck it.  You slide off the couch and down to your knees. Settle between his legs–spread wide and lazy where he sits. 

He looks down at you. Eyes dark. Jaw tight. 

“What’re y’doin’, sweetheart?” he asks, voice low. 

You don’t answer at first, just reach for his belt; your fingers trembling, eyes locked on his. “Helpin’ you relax.” 

Joel doesn’t stop you. Doesn’t flinch. Just exhales through his nose.  You tug the belt free quickly. Pop the button, fingers slippin’ to the zipper–but he gets there first. Reaches down before you, grabbing it. 

Drags it down himself. The sound cuts through the room. Then he pushes his jeans and boxers down to his thighs, stopping just under the muscle. Hard. Already waiting for you. Joel leans back into the couch. One arm thrown over the back like he’s settlin’ in. His eyes are on you, just watching. 

You pause. Just for a second. Because he’s there–thick, swollen, and the tip of his cock is glistening with pre-cum. 

You swallow hard. 

“Go on, princess,” he mutters. “Ain’t the time to get shy on me now.”

You reach out, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. A low groan comes from his throat when you start stroking him.

“Fuck,” he says, jaw tight. “This’ a bad fuckin’ idea.” 

 But he’s not pulling away. Just lets you keep going. 

You stroke him, feel him twitch in your hand, just a little. Then again. You do it just to tease him, you hear him moan, strained, quiet, fighting that need to thrust into your palm. Leaning in, you lick a slow line from the base of his cock to the tip. Draggin’ your tongue over the thick vein. The taste of him–salty–spreads across your lips. Then your mouth wraps around the head of his cock, tongue swirling. 

Joel’s hand moves fast–right to the back of your head and his fingers knot in your hair, firmly. Holding you. 

You open your mouth wider, taking him in slowly. Let him guide across your tongue, inch by inch, until your lips are nearly at the base and your throat tightens around him.

“God—fuck,” he breaths. “That mouth... Been thinkin’ about this. Thinkin’ how good it’d feel.” 

You set a rhythm, steady, wet and he lets you for a minute. Just watches. His cock disappears into your mouth over and over, until your chin’s slick and his cock’s shining with spit. 

“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” Joel mutters. He grips your hair tighter, it hurts a little. 

“You hear me?” 

You moan around him. You’re drooling now, a filthy fuckin’ mess and he’s lovin’ it. 

His hands lock in your hair now, fingers twisting deep as he starts to move. Not sloppy. Not rushed. 

Controlled. 

He knows what he’s doin’. Knows how to use your mouth…how long to keep you right there on the edge. Just enough to drive you crazy. Just enough to make you fuckin’ need it. 

“Just like that, baby,” he groans. “Goddamn–y’know what you’re doing, don’t you?” 

You gag, just a little, when he pushes deeper and he grunts, breathless. “Easy,” he says, even as his hips roll forward. 

“Don’t choke, sweetheart,” he breaths. “Ain’t done with you yet.” 

Your spit is all over his cock, your throat is raw, eyes glassy, tears threatenin’ to spill. Joel watches, doesn’t miss a thing. 

“Look at that mess,” he groans. “Drippin’ down your chin. So fuckin’ pretty like this.” 

He holds your head steady and starts to thrust harder into your mouth. Your hands dig into his thighs, bracing. Your jaw burns–but you don’t stop. You take it, like you’re supposed to. 

“Shit,” Joel growls, voice cracking. “The way you suck my cock–princess, fuck.” 

A deep moan.

“Makin’ me lose my fuckin’ mind.” 

He’s breathing is ragged now. Not gone…not yet…but close. Right on the edge. 

“You wanted this, didn’t you?” he asks. “Wanted me usin’ that mouth like this.” 

You moan around him and his cock twitches on your tongue. 

“Baby,” he breaths. “You keep doin’ that–I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.” 

But you don’t stop. You moan again–on purpose. Throat tight, lips wrapped, tongue draggin’ slow along every thick inch as he fucks your mouth. 

Joel moans, louder this time. 

“Jesus–fuck—you’re takin’ me so good,” he pants. “So. Fuckin’. Good.” 

You can feel it. The way his thighs tense up. The sharp jerk of his hips, the rough sound of his breathing. “I’m gon’ cum,” he growls. “You ready for it? Gonna swallow for me, huh?” 

You nod–best you can, mouth full, eyes up. He pushes you down deeper onto his cock. 

“That’s it,” Joel groans. “That’s it–God—don’t—”  Then he spills into your mouth. Thick, hot, endless. You try to swallow every drop, but he’s still twitching, still pulsing, and it leaks past your lip.

His chest heaves, breath ragged. 

And then—

Buzzzzz. Buzzzzz.

The phone on the coffee table goes off.

Joel exhales hard, like the wind just got knocked out of him. Then carefully, he pulls out of your mouth, stands up, pulls up his pants and grabs the phone off the table. You’re still on your knees. Panting. Lips swollen. His cum at the corner of your lips. “Yeah?” he answers. 

A pause. 

“I’m home.” 

His eyes drop down to you. He reaches out and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. Smears the cum away with one slow drag. “Tommy,” he sighs. “Was workin’ on somethin’.” 

Walks into the kitchen like nothin’s changed. Pulls his zipper up, belt clicks as he threads it back through. Phone still pressed to his ear. 

He leaves you there. Kneeling. Swollen-lipped. Messy. Wet. 

And you don’t know what’s worse. That he walked off like nothin’ happened–like everything’s still the same. Or that you’re just kneelin’ there–cunt throbbing, soaked, mouth wrecked from takin’ him. Wanting more. 

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[idkacatmonstermaybe]

for what it’s worth

its all feeling very real and very scary 🙂

[holeforzenin]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ NEW DEAL (ROOMMATE TOJI)

You were crouched in front of the fridge, staring into the abyss of expired condiments and half-empty containers when Toji came home. The sound of his boots hitting the floor was heavy and lazy— like he’d been dragging his whole body through the day. He didn’t say anything at first; he just dropped his tool belt with a tired grunt and kicked the door shut behind him.

You turned around just in time to catch the way he rubbed his neck, his hoodie clinging to his shoulders, still dusted with sawdust and sweat from a 12-hour day on site. He looked exhausted— face shadowed, hair messily tied back and eyes half-lidded with the weight of pure, bone-deep fatigue.

“You eat?” he asked without looking at you, already peeling off his shirt and tossing it over a kitchen chair.

You shook your head. “No groceries. Just sad ketchup packets and some old rice”.

He muttered a curse and leaned his hands on the marble counter, head hanging between his arms. Then after a long moment, he looked up at you.

“Alright,” he said, voice low and worn. “New deal”.

You blinked. “Huh?”

“I cover rent,” he said, standing up straight, his voice a bit more steady now, even though the bags under his eyes said he was one bad day away from crumbling. “All of it. Every month”.

Your mouth dropped open. “What? Are you serious?”

He nodded once, grabbing a can of beer from the fridge and popping it open with the edge of his calloused palm. “Dead serious. But in return, you cook and you do my laundry”.

You stared at him in pure disbelief. “So basically, you want me to be your housewife?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart,” he snorted, taking a long sip. “I just come home dead on my feet every damn night. My back’s shot, my knees feel like gravel and the last thing I wanna do is scrub my socks or figure out dinner. You’re home all day. You got time”.

You frowned, clearly offended. “I have classes”.

“And I’m not asking for a five-star meal,” he said, already walking toward his room, peeling off his undershirt as he went. “Just make sure there’s food when I get home. And maybe fold my shirts so I’m not digging through a mountain every morning”.

He paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m not saying this to be an asshole,” he added, voice lower and more gentle now. “I trust you. And I don’t… I don’t ask for help unless I need it”.

That part hit different.

You watched him disappear down the hall, the faint sound of his bedroom door creaking shut behind him. The fridge still hung open, light casting a glow on your face as you stood there, completely stunned.

Cooking and laundry in exchange for free rent. It wasn’t exactly a romantic fairy tale but with Toji but something about it felt so raw because of how genuine and needy he seemed, and it was him trusting you to take care of him in the only way he’d allow.

And hell, if it meant coming home to the gruff warmth of his voice and the quiet pride he had in every dish you made, even if he only said, “Not bad, kid”— you figured it was more than a fair trade.

———

I’d be his housewife + from now on, in all the upcoming roommate toji dabbles he’s the one paying rent!!

[evie-sturns]

simulator - Chris Sturniolo

summary: chris and his brothers try out a 'period simulator' for a youtube video, but the way chris is whining and groaning turns you on a lot more than you expected.

contains: smut, sub!chris, fluff, swearing, teasing (slightly), lowkey freaky asf, dom!reader.

----------------------------------------------------------

"how does it feel?" matt laughs, cranking up the small dial,

"ah-! matt that fucking hurts dude- shit." chris groans, slapping him over the wrist,

chris is hooked up to several wires, his shirt is slightly bunched up around his waist as small jolts of pressure flood through his tummy,

you, chris, matt and nick are all sitting on the couch, watching chris as he squeals, you were practically dying laughing at the boys and their overdramatic complaints, but with chris youre dead silent, your lips pressed firmly together as you stare at his face.

chris's face is contorted into an uncomfortable expression, his hands gripping at the couch as his eyes screw shut while the period simulator works its magic.

"such a baby." nick scoffs,

"no- oh my god it just- it hurts." chris whines out, his teeth clenched together.

his back arches off the couch, before he locks eyes with you.

you instantly snap back into character, laughing at him softly as you play off the fact that you are extremely turned on right now...

"'s not funny- it.. it really- hurts." chris whimpers out, his hands reaching up to you and clutching your tanktop.

"god get this shit off of- off of me." chris pants, grabbing at the wires and pulling them off his his pale stomach and chucking them at matt.

"you're so dramatic." i giggle softly, running a hand through his slightly dampened locks.

"it feels like my stomach was being like ripped out i swear." chris whines, flopping against me.

"okay wait- i want to try now." nick says nervously, following up with a loud scream as matt places the small sticky pads on nicks abdomen.

after around 40 more minutes of this 'torture', they all decide that they've had enough. mainly because nick was complaining that he was about to throw up.

chris stands up off the couch, his legs slightly shaky and his cheeks still flushed.

he grabs my hand and walks over to the fridge,

he pours a cup of water for himself before slugging it down, his lips a raw pink and slightly glossy from the water hes just drank.

"you okay?" i grin, rubbing his back,

"mmm." he groans, letting his head tip foward onto my shoulder.

"it could not have hurt that bad." i laugh,

"but 's not my fault that fuckin- matt decided it would be funny to try kill me off, cranking that shit up to level 10 unannounced!" chris complains, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

i scoff, shaking my head as i drag chris over to the bedroom.

i shut the door and turn on the ac, a cool breeze filling the room.

chris flops down on the bedsheets, covering his face with his hands. "my tummy hurts." he complains

his grey t-shirt has ridden up again, showing off his black calvin klein boxers.

i crawl onto the bed, gently straddling his hips.

he looks up at me through half lidded eyes,

"you were all squirmy, i liked it." i whisper,

chris's eyes instantly widen, shocked at the sudden change in the atmosphere.

"you- you liked it..?" chris mumbles,

i nod, "just made me so wet." i breathe, leaning down and brushing my lips over his.

chris is fully tense now, he swallows hard with a small nod,

"i- i didn't know you- you uh.. liked it that much..?" he whispers,

i grin, "wanna see what you did to me..?"

he nods eagerly, his lips slightly parted.

i sit up and tug my small shorts off of me, leaving me in my small lacy thong. i gently pull it to the side, before sitting back down on chris's waist.

my wetness drips down onto his pale skin, causing chris's breathing to intensify,

"is that- just from me-?" he asks cautiously,

i giggle softly before nodding, "all from you."

chris lets out a pathetic whine, a spurt of warmth spreads through my abdomen at his noise, god he knew what he was doing.

i gently scoot backwards onto his lap, a cheeky grin on my face.

"your'e hard, i can feel you poking me." i point out softly, causing chris's face to flush a deep red.

"i- i'm sorry youre just- youre just on top of me and- and--"

i press a finger to his lips, my other hand moves down to his jeans and unbuttons them, sliding them down his legs.

hes left in his loose grey shirt and black boxers, his shaggy hair moving over his eyes.

"p-please." he whispers,

"please?" i act dumb, wanting to hear his exact words.

"please just- ugh! please touch me!.." chris whimpers out loudly,

"shh sh sh." i whisper, "your brothers are just out in the living room," i shush him,

"im- sorry." he groans,

i gently tug down his boxers, his dick instantly springs out.

i stay seated on his bare thighs, before carefully taking his aching cock into my hands.

he lets out a shaky exhale at my small touch,

i run my thumb over his slit, causing more precum to dribble out, "ah-! ah.." chris whines,

"hm..? you're to sensitive to handle that amount of touch? that's pathetic dont you think?" i tut, humiliating him completley,

"im- im not sensitive!" he protests, his lips pressed together,

i cup his tip with my palm, making him buck up into me, another needy moan leaving his lips.

"you sure? i don't want you to lie to me yeah?" i grin,

"fine- fine.. 'm a little sensitive" he breathes,

i start to pump him at an agonisingly slow pace, making him even more frustrated.

he arches his back off the bed, reaching up for his dick,

"no-" i start but he cuts me off,

"just let me do it myself! you're taking so long!" chris rambles, his breathing picking up even more,

"what was that?" i start slowly.

"nothing i just-"

"no, i thought you wanted to cum tonight, but i guess not." i cut him off,

his eyes instantly widen, "no- no! i do i do! 'm sorry- i'm so sorry!" he babbles, instantly placing his hands by his sides and staring up at me through his eyelashes with puppy dog eyes.

"dont give me that attitude then." i tell him,

i'm starting to pump him faster, even if he wanted to say something snarky he wouldn't be able to, chris has never been good with forming a coherent sentence when hes being touched, his mind is just too foggy.

i feel his dick twitch in my palm, signalling he's close, but i pull my hand away quickly.

"no-" he cries out,

to avoid any more complaints i instantly sit up on his lap, hovering myself above his tip before sinking down.

he lets out a loud gasp, his slender fingers reaching up and pawing at my waist.

"oh my- oh my god im close-" he gasps,

"i don't care, you have to hold it." i speak,

he nods, pursing his puffy lips together and closing his eyes.

i bounce up and down on his length, the head of his cock rapidly hitting my cervix as it brushes pass my sweet spot.

i let out a small moan, rapidly chasing my own orgasm along side him.

i lean foward and places my hands on chris's chest for support and i continue to grind on him.

my eyes screw shut as my hair drapes over his chest,

"oh chris-" i whine, my stomach knotting with pleasure,

suddenly a loud moan rips out of chris, his head flinging back against the pillows as he pants loudly,

strings of whimpers fall from his lips,

"look at me- look at me." i instruct him, on the brink my own orgasm.

"i'll cum instantly if i do- i cant-!" chris moans, his voice high,

"i dont care- look at me."

chris's eyes open, his lips instantly part further,

"oh ggoddd." chris whines, his hand clutching my thigh,

i clench around him, the knot in my stomach snapping rapidly, chris instantly follows, arching his back impossibly higher off the bed before spurts of white coat my insides,

he instantly fall back against the matress, i gently pull off of him before flopping ontop of him.

he nuzzles his face into my neck, his warm breaths tickling my neck rapidly,

i rest my cheek on his, my eyes fluttering shut,

"does your stomach still hurt?" i whisper out with a small smile,

"no- i swear you're like magic or something- im cured permanantly, god-" he whispers back with a giggle,

--

@jayz4dayz4 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r r r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall l l @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour r @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnn n @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya a @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney y y @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees enxtrees @certifiednatelover r r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t t t t @yomamaslays4lyfe e @peachmelbaesunpostre @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 9 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise e @sturni0l0tripletzz z 0 @ratatioulle  @sturnsforlife @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos s @downbad4reid  

[meenaxskz]

when you slightly cut your finger (maknae line)

ot8 reactions | bf!skz x reader au genre: crack warnings: minor injury | slight blood | language hyung line | ✧ maknae line

han

You: “Ow! shit.” “WHO HURT YOU. I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL FIGHT A FRUIT.” You blink. Jisung skids into the kitchen wearing pajama pants and one sock “Did you just stab yourself?! With a knife?! Were you slicing things?! WHY WERE YOU SLICING THINGS UNSUPERVISED??” You hold up your finger. A small cut. Like, embarrassingly small. He stares. Goes dead silent. Then clutches his chest. “I’m gonna throw up. I wasn’t emotionally ready for gore this early.” You grin. “You’re being dramatic.” “YOU’RE BLEEDING!” “It’s one drop!” “THAT DROP CAME FROM YOUR BODY BABY. THAT’S PRECIOUS FLUID.” You: wincing a little “Can you get me a bandaid?” “I’ll get you a medal for surviving this.” “It’s not that bad...” “Shhh. Don’t talk. Save your strength.” “...Jisung” He picks you up bridal-style “TO THE COUCH. MEDIC STATION ENGAGED.” He sets you down with a pillow “Don’t move. You might pass out.” He disappears and comes back 0.6 seconds later with: -Two band-aids -A fluffy towel -His emotional support hoodie -And a candle You blink, scared to ask... “What’s the candle for...” “In case we need to create mood lighting for your goodbye.” You start laughing. “Ji...” “Just tell me what you want for dinner in the next life.” You sigh dramatically. You can’t help it. You milk it harder just to watch him spiral “I think I’m getting dizzy…” He drops to his knees. “I’LL DIE WITH YOU.” “WHAT—” “I’M SERIOUS. ROMEO AND JULIET, BABY. I’M NOT READY TO DATE AGAIN.” “We’ve been together for 8 months.” “EXACTLY. TOO LATE TO START OVER.”

felix

You: “Ow—!” Felix: immediate record scratch from across the kitchen “What?! What happened?! What did you TOUCH?!” You hold up your hand. One small cut. One tiny drop of blood. That’s it. Felix gasps like he just watched you get stabbed. “OH MY GOD?? BABY?!” You're biting your lip to keep from laughing “…It hurts.” He practically sprints across the room, grabbing your hand like he’s about to deliver CPR. “Where?! Let me see. wait, do we need to go to the hospital?!” You dramatically flutter your lashes “I don’t know. I might faint. Hold me?” His face: shook. “Oh no no no no don’t faint, not on me, please... I didn’t take first aid this year!” “I think… I see the light.” His eyes full of panic “NO YOU DON’T.” “Tell my pet rock I loved it.” He starts fanning your face “Please don’t die, you haven’t even tried the new cookie recipe yet” You can’t help it. You snort-laugh. Felix pauses. Blink blink. “…You’re joking?” You wheeze, “You were fanning me with a potholder, Lix.” He steps back, face going red, hands still hovering mid-air “You...you LIED?!” “...Just a little.” “...I almost cried.” You grin. “That’s how much you love me, huh?” He crosses his arms. “I was gonna write you a goodbye song.” “You were???” “I had the first line already. ‘Strawberries took her, but love remains." You laugh “Oh my GOD—” --- Later, you find a band-aid on your finger with a doodled heart and tiny wings drawn in pen. And on the counter? A sticky note: “Even if you’re dramatic, I’d still die for your stupid finger. – Lixie ”

seungmin

You: “Ow—OH MY GOD.” Seungmin from the hallway : “What happened? Are you dying? Please say yes, I need a nap.” “I’m bleeding!” Seungmin walks in. Stops. Stares at you dramatically crouched on the floor “…You cut yourself slicing cucumbers again, didn’t you?” You lift your hand like Simba on Pride Rock “There’s blood. I’m leaking.” He leans over. Squints at the cut “…That is not ‘leaking.’ That is ‘lightly annoyed skin.’” You gasp. “Are you mocking my pain?!” “Yes. In 4K. Live broadcast.” You dramatically press a paper towel to your finger. “I’m going into shock.” He opens the fridge. “Should I write your will on a sticky note?” “I want my funeral catered. With champagne.” Seungmin deadpan "Noted. Now let’s wrap up this drama before I call the real medics—aka Chan and his weird healing dad voice.” But then he actually sees the cut. And pauses “Oh. Okay, that’s… deeper than I thought.” You blink. “So you do care.” “No, I care about bloodstains on the counter.” He walks off. Comes back 15 seconds later with a bandaid, antiseptic, and your favorite cartoon sticker. “Did you just bring me a Spongebob bandaid?” He's focused on dabbing your finger “Don’t make it weird.” You smile. “You’re sweet when you pretend you’re not sweet.” He rolls his eyes. “You’re loud when you pretend you’re dying.” He finishes the bandaid, carefully pressing it on. Doesn’t say anything. Then leans forward and gently kisses your forehead. You blink. He immediately straightens “You imagined that.” “I literally felt your lips—” “You imagined that!” he repeats louder, walking away. You didn't <3

i.n

You: “AH—SHIT. SHIT—” Jeongin: appears from thin air “WHO DO I HAVE TO FIGHT.” You dramatically hold up your finger. He blinks. “That’s… a paper cut.” You: “It’s worse. It’s a betrayal. I was spreading butter.” Jeongin: squints at the butter knife like it just insulted his mother “…You’re bleeding from a utensil designed for gentle smearing.” “I’m fragile. Treat me like one of your skincare serums.” He walks over, deadpan “You want a bandaid or a eulogy?” “I want a statue built in my honor.” He smirks. “Okay, I’ll put it next to the box of shame.” You gasp “You are so mean.” He pulls out his phone. Snap. “You’re gonna thank me when I show this photo to your future kids.” You glare. “Delete it.” He snorts. “Nope. This is art.” Three minutes later. You’re pouting in silence. Jeongin: still chuckling “Oh come on, baby, it’s funny.” You stay quiet. Still cradling your finger. “…You okay?” Silence. “Wait… are you… actually upset?” You sniff dramatically. His entire soul leaves his body. “OH NO—WAIT—OKAY—BABY—I’M SORRY.” He scrambles for the bandaid drawer. Pulls out three sizes, a mini ice pack, and an emergency cookie (??). “This one has Snoopy on it...do you want Snoopy? Or glitter?” You sniff again “...Snoopy.” He gently puts it on. Blows on your finger “Am I forgiven?” You squint. “…You made fun of my butter injury.” He presses his lips to your bandaged finger like it’s sacred. Then your cheek. Then your forehead. “I’ll never mock butter again. Swear on my AirPods.” You grin. He pauses “…Wait. You’re milking this, aren’t you.” You smile sweetly. “Love you~” Jeongin groans. “...I’m keeping that photo”

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

[ilovemarvel97]

Jogging Shorts

Elizabeth Olsen x G!P Reader

Summary: Lizzie comes back home to find her wife in a jogging shorts that shows too much. 

Word Count: 6,570

Warnings: (18+), smut, reader has a penis, blowjob, fluff

Note: Minors do not interact!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

---

The front door clicked open as Lizzie stepped inside, sunglasses still perched on her nose and the faint smell of lavender clinging to her from the boutique brunch spot she’d just left. Her heels clicked softly against the hardwood as she kicked them off near the entry, humming to herself while undoing the buttons of her light jacket.

It had been a nice brunch—catching up with Aubrey over omelets and too many mimosas—but even as Lizzie laughed at her friend’s stories, her mind had slowly drifted home.

To her.

“Babe?” she called out, dropping her keys into the bowl on the hallway table.

She rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks.

There stood Y/N—her wife, her muse, her personal brand of temptation—wearing nothing but a clingy athletic tank and a pair of gray men’s jogging shorts that rode low on her hips. Her skin glistened with sweat, still flushed from her run, and her damp hair was pulled back in that messy ponytail Lizzie always found distractingly sexy.

Y/N didn’t notice her at first. She was too focused on downing a glass of cold water. The fabric of her shorts clung in just the right way—showcasing the shape of her thick thighs, the slight bounce of her body from exertion, and the very obvious outline pressing against the front of her shorts.

Lizzie’s throat went dry.

“Oh,” she breathed.

Y/N finally noticed her, lowering the glass and turning to face her with that boyish, slightly smug grin. “Hey, baby.”

Lizzie blinked. “You—you went running?”

Y/N gave a casual shrug, walking over to the fridge to grab the pitcher. “Just around the block a few times. Thought I’d get some cardio in before you got back.”

As she bent slightly to place the pitcher back in the fridge, Lizzie got another full view of that ridiculously perfect form—taut, sweaty, relaxed in all the best ways. Her gaze flicked to the waistband of the shorts again, and she felt a warmth start to bloom in her chest. And lower.

“You’re staring,” Y/N said, grinning as she shut the fridge.

Lizzie crossed her arms, but her cheeks were already flushed. “You can’t just… be walking around looking like that and expect me not to.”

“Like what?” Y/N asked innocently, walking closer.

“Those shorts” Lizzie points.

“What about them?” Y/N shrugs.

Lizzie scoffed, eyes trailing down. “You wear them like they’re painted on.”

Y/N chuckled and closed the distance between them until Lizzie had to tilt her head slightly to maintain eye contact. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Maybe because I walked into my kitchen and found my hot, sweaty, half-naked wife standing there like an ad for bad decisions.”

Y/N’s grin softened into something more tender, though her eyes still sparkled. “Good ones, actually. You married me.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes playfully, but her hands had already found their way to Y/N’s damp waist, fingers curling into the waistband of those teasing shorts. “Mm, I did. And I regret nothing.”

Y/N leaned in, nose brushing hers. “So what’re you gonna do about it?”

Lizzie hummed, fingers sliding just a little deeper beneath the waistband of Y/N’s shorts, her touch featherlight but enough to make her wife’s breath hitch. “I don’t know,” she murmured, voice thick with suggestion. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson for walking around like this… tempting me.”

Y/N’s smile widened, lips parting slightly as her gaze dropped to Lizzie’s mouth. “What kind of lesson are we talking about, Mrs. Y/F/N?”

Lizzie smirked at the title, loving how it still gave her a flutter even after all this time. “Something slow,” she said, inching closer so their bodies brushed. “Something very… drawn out. You know, to really make my point.”

Y/N chuckled, her hands finding Lizzie’s hips. “You really think you can handle taking your time when you’re this flustered?”

“I’m not flustered,” Lizzie said quickly, but the way her hands gripped Y/N’s sides betrayed her. “I’m just… motivated.”

Y/N tilted her head, eyes glinting with challenge. “Motivated, huh? That why your hands are shaking just a little?”

Lizzie scoffed and pulled away slightly, walking toward the counter as if to put some space between them—but the swing of her hips was anything but innocent. “Maybe I was going to go shower,” she said over her shoulder, her voice lilting and light. “But now? I might just sit on the couch and enjoy the view.”

She turned just in time to catch Y/N’s gaze drop—unapologetically—to the curve of her backside, still hugged tightly by the pale sundress she wore. Lizzie leaned against the kitchen island, her arms crossed, biting her lip to suppress a smile.

Y/N followed her without hesitation, hands casually holding her waist. “You wanna look?” she asked, stepping between Lizzie’s legs. “You can look, baby. But you’re not the only one who’s got views.”

“Oh, I’m very aware,” Lizzie said, her voice a whisper now as she traced a lazy circle along Y/N’s abs with a single finger. “That’s why I married you, rockstar.”

Y/N smirked. “Not for the voice? Or the charm?”

“Those helped,” Lizzie teased, sliding her hand down the front of Y/N’s tank slowly, until it rested just above the waistband again. “But mostly it was this… stupidly perfect body.”

Y/N leaned in, her nose brushing the side of Lizzie’s jaw, lips ghosting over her ear. “And now it’s all yours.”

Lizzie exhaled shakily, heat pooling low in her stomach. She wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck, pulling her in just enough so that their lips nearly touched. “Say that again.”

Y/N kissed the corner of her mouth, slowly. “I’m all yours.”

Lizzie gave in, letting their lips finally connect in a heated, slow kiss that deepened with every second—lazy and lingering, the kind that made you forget anything else existed. Y/N’s hands roamed lower, gripping the backs of Lizzie’s thighs and lifting her just enough to sit her up on the kitchen island. 

Their kiss broke only for a breath, foreheads pressed together.

“You still sweaty,” Lizzie whispered with a grin, fingers tugging at Y/N’s tank playfully.

“Guess we’ll have to get more sweaty,” Y/N murmured, lips ghosting over hers again.

Lizzie laughed softly. “God, I love you.”

Y/N smiled, kissing her again. “I love you too.”

Lizzie gasped softly as Y/N's hands slipped beneath the hem of her sundress, fingers trailing up her inner thighs. She shivered at the touch, her skin tingling with anticipation. 

Y/N leaned in, her voice low and seductive. "You're not the only one who's eager to get started, huh?"

Lizzie's eyes fluttered shut as Y/N's lips found her neck, planting a trail of soft kisses along her collarbone. "I missed you," she whispered.

“You saw me this morning when you left” Y/N continue to kiss her skin. 

"I know," Lizzie said, her fingers tangling in Y/N's damp hair. "But it feels like it's been forever since I've had you like this."

Y/N hummed in agreement, her lips moving lower, finding the spot on Lizzie's neck that always made her shiver. "even though you had me last night?"

"Yes," Lizzie replied, her voice a faint whisper as Y/N's hands glided under her sundress. "I can't get enough. Ever."

Y/N chuckled, the sound rumbling against Lizzie's skin. "And you think it's any different for me, baby?"

"I know it's not," Lizzie said, her breathing growing more labored as Y/N's fingers lightly grazed the edge of her underwear. "But you're the one teasing me right now."

“You started” Y/N whisper in Lizzie’s ear. 

Lizzie tilted her head back, a moan slipping from her lips at the feel of Y/N's breath against her ear. "I didn't expect you to look so... good in those shorts," she admitted, her fingers trailing down Y/N's sides.

Y/N chuckled, nipping at Lizzie's earlobe. "Oh, you're one to talk. Wearing this little dress that barely covers a thing..."

"Hey, this is comfortable," Lizzie protested weakly, her body already arching into Y/N's touch.

Y/N hummed, her lips finding a sensitive spot just below Lizzie's jawline. "I'm not complaining. But you have to admit, you knew it would drive me wild."

Lizzie didn't bother denying it. "Maybe," she conceded, her fingers gripping Y/N's shoulders as her back arched off the counter. "But I didn't expect you to run around the neighborhood looking like sin incarnate."

"I was jogging," Y/N corrected, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of Lizzie's dress. "You're the one making it sound dirty."

Lizzie opened her mouth to retort, but all that came out was a soft gasp as Y/N's hand slid up her thigh, her touch warm and electrifying.

"You were showing off," Lizzie managed to say, her body trembling.

Y/N laughed, her hand moving higher, her thumb tracing the edge of Lizzie's underwear. "And you were looking, weren't you?"

“No…when I said you were showering off” Lizzie cups Y/N cock over her shorts “you were jogging and showing off what’s mine” Lizzie says. 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her hand stilling on Lizzie's thigh. "And you're possessive today," she said, her voice low and strained.

Lizzie smirked, her fingers applying more pressure. "You love it," she said, leaning in to ghost her lips over Y/N's pulse point.

Y/N shivered, her eyes fluttering shut. "God, baby..." she murmured, her hand grasping Lizzie's waist.

"You like it when I claim what's mine, don't you?" Lizzie teased, her fingers teasing the strings of Y/N's shorts.

Y/N's breath hitched, her hands going down and gripping the edge of the counter. "You know I do," she replied, her voice rough. She tilted her head, capturing Lizzie's mouth in a heated, claiming kiss.

Lizzie melted into the kiss, her hands roaming freely over Y/N's body, tracing the dip of her lower back, the curve of her hip. She deepened the kiss, her tongue brushing against Y/N's, drawing a soft moan from her wife.

Y/N's hands found the hem of Lizzie's sundress, her fingers skimming along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. "You know," she murmured, biting back a gasp as Lizzie's teeth grazed her jawline, "the bed is just a few steps away."

Lizzie hummed, her lips nipping at Y/N's pulse point. "We could get there," she murmured, her hands sliding up Y/N's chest, "or you could just take me here." Lizzie start to stroke Y/N cock

Y/N's head fell back, a moan slipping from her lips. "Here, huh?" she managed to say, her voice thick with desire. "On the kitchen counter?"

Lizzie nodded, her lips brushing along Y/N's collarbone. "Right here," she said, her hand gripping Y/N's hip, pulling her even closer. "I want you now."

Y/N shivered, her body already burning with need. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" she said, her hands trailing up Lizzie's arms, sliding under the straps of her sundress.

Lizzie's hands joined hers, helping Y/N push the sundress off her shoulders. "Only in the best way possible," she said, her voice a whisper as the dress pooled at her feet.

Y/N took a moment to appreciate the sight before her, her eyes roaming over Lizzie's body, clad only in matching lace underwear. "You're so beautiful," she said, her hands tracing the curve of Lizzie's waist, up to her ribs, before stopping just below her chest.

"You're not so bad yourself," Lizzie teased, her own gaze roaming over Y/N's body. "Especially in those shorts." She leaned in, her lips tracing the curve of Y/N's neck as her hands slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of the shorts.

Y/N is already hard for her. Lizzie could feel it against her hand, the evidence of Y/N's arousal stirring her own desire. She pressed closer, her body flush against Y/N's, and nuzzled her face into Y/N's neck, her lips trailing up to her ear. "I can feel how much you want me," she murmured, her tongue darting out to tease Y/N's earlobe.

Y/N groaned, her hands gripping Lizzie's hips, pulling her even closer, until there was no space left between them. "You have no idea," she said, her voice rough with desire. "I've been wanting you since the moment you left this morning in that tiny dress.”

"That's a long time to wait for me," Lizzie said, her lips finding the underside of Y/N's jaw. She bit down lightly, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "But, then again, the longer you wait, the better the reward, right?"

Lizzie hops off the counter and kneel in front of Y/N tagging her shorts. 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she watched Lizzie sink to her knees in front of her. She couldn't speak, the sight of her wife knelt before her sending a jolt of arousal straight to her cock. Her hands gripped the edge of the countertop, her knuckles turning white.

Lizzie smirked up at her, her eyes dark with desire. "You like that, huh?" she said, her hands slipping up Y/N's thighs, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts. "When I'm on my knees for you?"

Y/N nodded, unable to form words, her body trembling under Lizzie's touch. "Yes," she managed to get out, her voice ragged. "God, yes."

"Good." Lizzie's voice was low and smooth, her gaze never leaving Y/N's as she started to tug at the shorts. "Because I love being down here for you."

Lizzie pull down Y/N shorts making her member spring out almost bumping her face.

Y/N's cock was hard, already leaking pre-cum from the tip. Lizzie's eyes widened at the sight, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She looked up at Y/N, her gaze dark and hungry. "Oh, someone's eager," she said, her voice a teasing whisper.

"Eager's an understatement," Y/N managed to say, her fingers clenching tighter on the counter. "Especially when you look like that."

Lizzie chuckled, her hands gliding up Y/N’s thighs, stopping just short of touching her cock. "And how do I look, exactly?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, feigning innocence.

Y/N groaned, her cock twitching at the lack of touch. "You know how you look," she said, her voice strained. "You look like sin incarnate. Like you're trying to drive me insane right now."

Lizzie smirked. "Just trying to match your energy, love," she said, her breath ghosting over the head of Y/N's cock. "You were wearing that short showing off this, and expect me not do anything about it."

"You could have joined me on my run," Y/N pointed out, her words coming out in a strangled gasp as Lizzie's tongue darted out, lightly swiping over the tip of her cock.

“Fuck” Y/N groan. 

Lizzie hummed, her lips curving up in a smirk. "You like it when I talk dirty to you, don't you?" she said, her hands still lightly stroking Y/N's thighs. "Or, I guess, it's more the actions, isn't it? Words are nice and all, but the real magic happens in the deed."

Y/N nodded, her eyes closing, her body tense as she waited for whatever Lizzie was going to do next. She was at her mercy, and she loved every second of it. "You can say that again," she said, her words more of a ragged gasp than actual speech.

"Hmm, looks like someone's getting impatient." Lizzie's teasing tone was enough to make Y/N's knees weak, and it took everything she had to stay standing. "You want me to keep going, don't you?"

"Please," Y/N begged, her body trembling with need. "I need you, baby. Please."

Lizzie relished the sound of the word 'please' slipping from Y/N's lips. She loved it when her wife admitted that she needed her. With a wicked gleam in her eye, she leaned in, her breath hot against Y/N's skin. "Beg me," she whispered, her lips just barely brushing against Y/N's hip.

"Please," Y/N repeated, her words shaky but earnest. "Please, touch me. I need you so badly, Lizzie. I need to feel your hands on me."

Lizzie smirked, satisfied with the desperation in Y/N's voice. "I like it when you beg," she murmured, her hands moving up, finally wrapping around Y/N's throbbing cock. "God, you're so hard for me. So ready."

“It’s your fault” Y/N thrust into Lizzie’s hand. 

Lizzie laughed, her grip on Y/N's cock tightening. "Of course it is. My fault, my problem, and I take responsibility for it." Her hand began to move, stroking Y/N softly.

"You know I can't resist you," Y/N gasped. "Not when you look like that, not when you talk like that." Her hands clenched at her sides, resisting the urge to touch Lizzie's hair, her shoulders, the delicate arch of her back.

"And I can't resist you, either," Lizzie said, her gaze roaming over Y/N's face, taking in the flush of her cheeks, the way her eyes darkened with desire. "When you're all sweaty and needy and begging for me, how could I say no?"

Y/N goes to protest she’s not needy, but when she open her mouth Lizzie runs her tongue over her shaft. 

The words died in Y/N's throat as Lizzie's tongue flicked over the tip of her cock, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. She had no room to protest, no power to argue, not with the overwhelming need and desire coursing through her body. "You're going to make me lose it," she managed to choke out, her words breaking off as another moan escaped her lips. 

Lizzie chuckled, her breath hot against Y/N's sensitive flesh. "That's the point, baby. I'm going to take my time with you. I'm going to drag out every single one of those beautiful noises I can make you make."

Y/N could just take her way, but she was enjoying this Lizzie. 

Lizzie was in control, and Y/N was all too happy to submit. She loved seeing this side of her wife, the side that was confident and commanding, driving her wild with desire. Each touch, each movement, was calculated and deliberate, designed to draw out just the right response. 

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" Lizzie said, her lips brushing against the underside of Y/N's cock. "You're so perfect like this, all needy and eager, begging for me to touch you, to make you mine."

“I love when you take my cock like that” Y/N whisper. 

Lizzie smiled up at Y/N, her eyes flickering with a mix of lust and playfulness. "I know you do," she said, her voice a low, seductive purr. "I know you love it when I take control and show you just how badly I want you."

And with that, Lizzie wrapped her lips around Y/N's cock, taking her deep into her mouth. She was hot and wet and eager, swirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh. It was as if she was made for this, made to bring Y/N to the very edge of pleasure and then hold her there

"Fuck," Y/N moaned, her hands finding their way into Lizzie's hair, "You feel so good, baby. So god damn good.”

Lizzie hummed in response, her eyes never leaving Y/N's face. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she loved every second of it. She knew the power she held over Y/N, and she relished in it. It was a beautiful dance they'd perfected over the years, each touch and kiss fueled by a depth of passion and love that only comes from true intimacy.

Y/N's body trembled, her back arching, her fingers clutching at Lizzie's hair. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop," she gasped, her words a ragged mix of pleading and command.

Lizzie had no intention of stopping. She loved seeing Y/N like this, undone and desperate for more. She teased and taunted her, her mouth and hands moving in perfect tandem, bringing Y/N closer and closer to the edge. Each touch was calculated, a symphony of pleasure that threatened to send her over the brink.

"I'm close," Y/N gasped, her body taut, coiled like a spring ready to snap. "Baby, I'm so close."

With that lizzie starts to bob her head. 

Lizzie smiled around Y/N's cock, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She knew Y/N was close, and she was determined to take her there. She increased the suction, her lips and tongue milking Y/N's cock with an expert touch. She could feel her own arousal growing, the taste and feel of Y/N's flesh in her mouth driving her wild. She could sense the tension in Y/N's body, the way she was trembling under her touch. She knew she had her right where she wanted her, and she was ready to take her over the edge.

Lizzie take almost all Y/N length into her mouth. Tears pooling in the corners of her eyes as she looks up at her wife. And that was the last straw for Y/N.

In a guttural moan. Her body convulsed, her hips bucking a little as she came, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her like a tsunami. Her fingers found Lizzie's head, holding her in place a little. But when it was over, she pulls her hips back, pulling her length out of Lizzie’s mouth. 

Lizzie's lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed. She had a satisfied smirk on her face, as she looked up at Y/N. 

"That was... intense," Y/N gasped, her limbs feeling like jelly.

Y/N see Lizzie swallowing her load. It was an incredibly erotic sight, and Y/N felt her arousal building once more. Lizzie could see the look in Y/N's eyes, and she knew exactly what it meant.

"Already getting worked up again, darling?" she teased, pushing herself up to her feet.

Y/N pulls her by the hips and crashed their lips. Their bodies pressed against each other, mouths locked in a frantic, desperate kiss. It was pure heat and hunger, fueled by a desperate need to be closer, to feel more, to take all they could from each other.

Y/N lift her up by her thighs and place her back on the counter kissing her desperately. 

Lizzie clung to Y/N, her arms wrapping around her neck, her legs wrapping around Y/N. She kissed back with equal fervor, her lips moving urgently against Y/N's, their lips slick and hot. She could feel the heat radiating from Y/N, the need and desire rolling off her in waves.

Lizzie only notice her bra was gone when she feels Y/N’s hand on her breasts. 

The realization hit her, she gasped, her body arching into Y/N's touch. She had been so consumed by the kiss, so focused on the feeling of Y/N's lips against her own, that she hadn't even noticed the moment her bra had been removed. She broke the kiss, looking up at Y/N with a mix of surprise and arousal.

“When did you do that?” she asked, her words coming out in a ragged gasp. Her fingers reached for the hem of Y/N's shirt, tugging at it impatiently. 

"I have my ways," Y/N murmured, her eyes dark with desire. She helped Lizzie pull the shirt over her head, revealing her bra. "I'm full of surprises, aren't I?"

Lizzie's gaze wandered over Y/N's bare chest, taking in every inch of exposed skin. Her fingers traced the edge of Y/N's bra, her touch almost reverent. "You always find a way to leave me wanting more," she said, her words soft and tinged with need.

Lizzie tilted her head back, giving Y/N better access to her neck. Her fingers combed through Y/N's hair, her touch both possessive and gentle. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?" she murmured, her words breathy with desire.

"We're a match made in heaven," Y/N agreed, her lips trailing down Lizzie's neck, nipping and kissing her sensitive skin. Her hands roamed over Lizzie's body, exploring every curve and contour, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Y/N lips went down Lizzie’s body, kissing and nipping her breasts. 

Lizzie gasped, her body arching into Y/N's touch. Her fingers tightened in Y/N's hair, holding her close, not wanting her to pull away. "Please, don't stop," she murmured, her voice tinged with desperation.

Y/N had no intention of stopping. She continued her journey down, her lips and tongue tasting every inch of Lizzie's skin, worshipping her body with every touch. She could feel the heat radiating from Lizzie, the way she trembled under her hands, and it only fueled her desire.

Lizzie's gasped, her body quivering with each touch. "I need you," she whimpered, her fingers digging into Y/N's shoulders. "Please, don't tease me."

“Tell me what you need” Y/N whisper in her ear. 

Lizzie's body shivered as Y/N's words washed over her, her voice a hot, ragged whisper in her ear. She could feel the heat pooling low in her belly, the ache between her legs growing stronger with every moment. "I need you," she whispered back, her words a breathy, desperate plea. "I need you inside me. Now."

“Good girl” Y/N whisper in her ear before she push down her own shorts and boxers to the middle of her thighs and push Lizzie’s underwear to the side. 

Lizzie groaned, her mind going blank as she felt Y/N's fingers finding her. The sensations were overwhelming, the heat and wetness and the need to be filled. She reached for Y/N, her hands grabbing at her shoulders, pulling her close. "Please, baby. I need you. I need you now."

“So wet” Y/N whisper as she scoop Lizzie’s juice to spread over her cock. 

Lizzie gasped at the touch, her body shaking with need. "God, yes," she whispered, her hands clutching at Y/N's back. "I want you so bad."

“Shhhh I’ve got you baby. I’ve got you” Y/N says as she rub her tip against Lizzie’s core. 

Lizzie's breath hitches at the contact, her body arching slightly, trying to press harder against Y/N. "Please. Don't tease me like that," she pleaded, her voice a ragged whisper. "I need you inside me."

“I know baby. I know” Y/N push in slowly. 

Lizzie gasped, her body arching upward as she felt Y/N slowly pushing into her. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure left her mind reeling. "Yes," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. "Just like that."

Y/N began to move, slow at first, relishing in the feeling of being inside Lizzie. It was like coming home, a sense of completion that went beyond physical pleasure. Lizzie's legs wrapped around her waist, holding her tight, and she buried her face in the crook of Lizzie's neck, peppering kisses on her skin.

“You feel so good my love” Y/N murmur against her neck. 

Lizzie nodded, her words lost in a sea of sensations. She held onto Y/N tightly, her arms wrapped around her shoulders, her legs around her waist, her fingers tracing patterns on the skin of her back. "So do you," she murmured against Y/N's ear, her voice ragged with pleasure. "You always do."

Y/N start to speed up. Her arms were wrapped around Lizzie’s waist, holding her against herself. 

Lizzie's breath came in short, ragged gasps as Y/N picked up the pace. She could feel herself getting close, her body taut and trembling beneath Y/N's touch. Her fingers gripped Y/N's shoulders, her nails digging into the skin, her chest heaving with every breath. "Don't stop," she pleaded, her words a ragged whisper. "Please, don't stop."

“Is your butt ok?” Y/N ask since Lizzie’s on the counter. 

Lizzie's response was more of a gasp than a word. "Yes," she managed to say, her voice breathless. "I'm fine." Except she was more than fine, she was on the edge of pure ecstasy, every nerve in her body alive with pleasure.

Y/N could tell from the way Lizzie's body reacted that she was close, her body trembling beneath her touch. She shifted slightly, adjusting her angle to hit that sweet spot that made Lizzie gasp.

"Ah!" Lizzie gasped, her body arching, her fingers clawing at Y/N's back. "Just like that. Don't stop. Please." Her words were a desperate plea, her voice ragged with pleasure.

"Never," Y/N murmured against her neck, her lips brushing over her skin. "I'll never stop." She moved faster, harder, losing herself in the moment, driven by the sounds of Lizzie's pleasure and the feel of her body responding to her touch. She could feel the tension building in Lizzie, the way her body coiled tighter and tighter.

Lizzie's grip on Y/N's shoulders was like a vice, her nails digging into the skin. Her body was taut, on the edge of release. She was close, so close, but Y/N knew how to keep her just on the edge, driving her slowly insane with desire. "Please," Lizzie pleaded, her voice ragged. "Please, let me come."

“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you come” Y/S kissed her cheek. 

Lizzie's body shuddered at the words, her head falling back, exposing her neck to Y/N's lips. She was teetering on the edge, so close that it almost hurt. But she waited, her body tense, her breath hitching in anticipation, waiting for the final push.

Y/N kiss her deeply as she speed up more, hitting deep inside Lizzie. 

The kiss was a clash of teeth and tongues, a desperate need to be even closer, to feel every inch of each other. Lizzie gasped into Y/N's mouth, her body trembling with pleasure. She was so close, so close. "Please," she pleaded, her voice ragged. "I need to come. I need to come so bad."

“You can come baby.” 

"Oh god," Lizzie gasped, her body arching, every muscle coiled tight with pleasure. "Please, please, please." She was so close, so incredibly close to the edge. She held onto Y/N tightly, her fingers digging into her skin, trying to anchor herself to something, anything, to keep herself from flying apart.

"Let go, baby," Y/N murmured against her ear, her words like a spell, casting a net of pleasure over her, pulling her closer to the brink. "Come for me. Let me see you come undone."

That was all she needed. Lizzie's body shook, her legs wrapping tightly around Y/N, her body trembling as she finally let go. Her orgasm washed over her like a wave, drowning out everything but the sensations coursing through her body. She held onto Y/N tightly, riding out the waves of pleasure, her whole world narrowing down to the feel of Y/N in her arms.

Y/N slow down for her to ride out her high.

Lizzie's body quivered, her whole being thrumming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She held onto Y/N, her fingers digging into her skin as she rode it out. Y/N held her through it, slowing down just enough to keep her pleasure going, her hands roaming over Lizzie's skin, mapping out every inch of her with feather-light touches.

Lizzie was boneless, her body limp, her mind utterly blissed out. She could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. But the warmth and safety of Y/N's arms kept her grounded, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat anchoring her to the present moment.

“Hold tight baby” Y/N whisper in her ear. 

Lizzie nodded, her body still humming with the afterglow. She wrapped her arms around Y/N's neck, burrowing her face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin. She didn't want to move, didn't want to disrupt the moment. She just wanted to stay there, held tightly in Y/N's arms, feeling loved and safe.

Without pulling out Y/N lift Lizzie from the kitchen counter and start to walk up to their bedroom. 

Lizzie clung to Y/N, her body still boneless and sated. She buried her face in Y/N's shoulder, sighing contentedly as Y/N carried her up the stairs. She could feel Y/N's steady heartbeat, the strength in her arms, and the sense of safety and comfort that always came with being held by her.

As Y/N walk, her cock moves slightly inside Lizzie. 

Each step was a gentle, sensual brush of movement, and Lizzie's body responded, a gasp slipping from her lips. Every touch sent a jolt of pleasure through her, the sensation just enough to keep her on the edge of arousal. She could feel Y/N's body shifting with each step, the movement subtle and intimate, adding to the building desire.

Y/N enter their bedroom and place Lizzie down on their bed.

Lizzie's body sunk into the mattress, her limbs splayed out. She looked up at Y/N, her eyes dark with desire. Her gaze traced over Y/N's form, taking in every inch of her. She reached up, her hands grasping at Y/N's arms. "Come here," she murmured, her voice low and breathy.

Y/N moved onto the bed, crawling over Lizzie, her body hovering above her. She braced herself on her arms, her gaze roaming over Lizzie's face, taking in the flush of her cheeks, the way her eyes were dark and blown with desire. She leaned down, her lips brushing over Lizzie's jaw, planting kisses along her skin, down her neck, to the hollow of her throat.

“Can you do one more for me my love? I didn’t come yet” Y/N ask as she rubs her cock against Lizzie’s core. 

Lizzie's breath hitched, her body arching into Y/N's touch. "Yes," she gasped, her words barely more than a murmur. "Yes, please." She was already on edge again, her body thrumming with need. She reached up, her hands grasping at Y/N's shoulders, pulling her closer. "I need you," she whispered, her voice ragged with desire.

Y/N spread her legs more and slide inside her. 

Lizzie's body trembled in response, her hips rising to meet Y/N's motion. She let out a soft moan, her head falling back onto the pillow. "Oh god," she gasped, her voice ragged. "You feel so good." She wrapped her legs around Y/N's waist, her fingers digging into her back, pulling her closer, wanting to feel every inch of her. 

Y/N moved slowly, her movements deep and deliberate. She pressed her face into Lizzie's neck, her breath hot against her skin. Her hands roamed over Lizzie's body, touching her everywhere. Lizzie's hands were everywhere, touching and scratching and grasping at Y/N's skin as if she couldn't get enough of her. The need was there, the desperation that only comes of knowing someone inside and out. Every touch was a claim, a silent reminder that they were each other's.

Lizzie's body was taut, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She clung to Y/N, her fingers digging into her back. "Please," she gasped, her voice ragged. "I need more, baby. I need you." She could feel Y/N's body moving against hers, the rhythm slow and deliberate, driving her insane with need. She wanted more, needed more, needed to be as close to Y/N as possible, to feel their bodies intertwined, to lose herself in the sensations that only Y/N could bring.

Y/N speeds up, starting a rough pace as she seeks her release. She kiss Lizzie’s neck up to her ear. 

Each kiss, each bite, each word whispered against her skin, it all left Lizzie unraveling, completely at Y/N's mercy. Her hands gripped Y/N's shoulders, holding on for dear life, as her body trembled. "Yes, yes," she whispered, her body arching into Y/N's touch, her own need growing with every moment that passed.

Y/N keep the pace and she hiss when Lizzie start to scratch her back but she doesn’t mind. 

Lizzie's nails dug into Y/N's skin, leaving marks that would be there for days, a reminder of this moment. But Y/N didn't mind. In fact, she loved it, loved the way Lizzie's body responded to her touch, the way she writhed beneath her, completely undone. It was a beautiful sight, one that she would never tire of.

She could feel Lizzie's body shaking beneath her, the sounds that fell from her mouth growing more and more desperate. Y/N knew she was close, could feel the tension in her body coiled tight like a spring. She nipped and kissed at Lizzie's neck, her teeth grazing her skin, leaving marks that would purple by morning.

“I’m gonna come my love” Y/N whisper in her ear. 

The words sent a shiver down Lizzie's spine, her body arching off the bed as the tension in her coiled tighter, closer to the edge. "Yes, yes, please," she gasped, her voice ragged and raw. "Don’t stop."

Y/N didn’t have any plans to stop, not when she had Lizzie like this. She kept her pace up, driving her higher and higher, until Lizzie was teetering on the very edge, hanging by a thread.

Y/N keep the fast pace as she moans holding her release so Lizzie can reach hers. 

Lizzie's body was a trembling mess beneath Y/N. Every muscle was taut, every nerve ending on fire. She could feel the tension building, coiling itself tight. Each moment was agony, sweet and sharp all at once. She was so close, so incredibly close, teetering right on the edge, but not quite there yet.

“Cum love. Cum with me” Y/N groan. 

Lizzie's body was taut, the words sending her spiraling over the edge. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, a burst of pleasure that washed over her in waves. All she could do was hold on, clinging to Y/N like a lifeline as her body trembled, as the sounds that left her mouth turned incoherent. And then, as suddenly as it had come, the orgasm receded, leaving her boneless and satisfied, panting against Y/N's shoulder. 

Y/N release inside her with a moan agains her ear. 

Lizzie could feel Y/N's release, her body shuddering with the aftermath of her own orgasm. She held onto her tightly, her hands roaming over her back, her touch gentle and soft. She could feel the heat radiating off their bodies, the sweat on their skin, the way they were both shaking with the exertion and the aftermath. "God, I love you," she whispered, her voice ragged and hoarse.

“Fuck…I love you more” Y/N says breathless. 

Lizzie smiled, her gaze locking with Y/N's. "Impossible," she whispered, her fingers tracing a path down Y/N's back. "I love you more."

Y/N smiles sweetly before kissing her softly.

Y/N melted into the kiss, her lips moving slowly, reverently against Lizzie's—no longer driven by lust, but by the kind of love that softened the world around them. She pulled back just enough to press her forehead to Lizzie’s, their breaths still mingling, both of them trying to calm the rapid thud of their hearts.

“I guess I’m not allowed to wear this shorts outside anymore?” Y/N smirk. 

Lizzie grinned, still breathless, her fingers lazily tracing patterns along Y/N’s spine. “Allowed? Oh, no. You can wear them.”

Y/N quirked a brow. “Yeah?”

Lizzie leaned in, lips brushing against her jaw. “Just know that if you do… I’m following you. And anyone who looks for too long is getting hexed.”

Y/N laughed, low and husky. “Hexed? We’re bringing out the Scarlet Witch now?”

“I’m married,” Lizzie said with mock-seriousness, eyes glittering with mischief. “Which means I’m legally obligated to defend what’s mine. Even if that means mild public violence.”

Y/N hummed, nuzzling into her neck. “Kinky.”

Lizzie swatted her lightly, giggling. “Don’t tempt me. You’re already pushing your luck in those damn shorts.”

Y/N grinned, letting her hands settle on Lizzie’s waist as she pressed one last kiss to her lips—slow and sweet. “Fine. No more wearing them outside.”

Lizzie smirked. “Only for me.”

Y/N brushed their noses together. “Always, baby.”

---

Let me know what you guys think about this!

[ruinix]

your writing is genuinely amazing…like we are not worthy….

i humbly ask for a continuation of the bj blurb you did with Quinn where him and reader are 69ing 🧎‍♀️

Hello, anon. Lovely. Yes, of course, but it is I who is not worthy of you for reading my fic. I fear this moved up the queue because…just because. Anyway, for context, Part 1 is [ Payback ] aka BJ blurb. But if you squint…it can be a standalone (maybe? i think it is or I might be delusional). Please enjoy...

Fifteen

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Handjob with spitting, Hair tugging, Overstimulation (both), Cum tasting, Oral sex (m receiving / Blowjob, then both / 69) 🙂‍↕️, slightest bit of Choking, a sprinkle of Dominance, Quinn literally losing it over you 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↔️

Count: 2816 words | Masterlist

You’re just staring. Quinn thinks it’s—his proposition—an easy sell, but you look so annoyed, glaring at him from between his thighs. You’re looking at him like he just wronged you. He’s confused.

“You don’t want me to have more?” You huff, crossing your arms, eyebrows meeting, glaring up at him with so much anger.

“My Love, I’m not saying that.” Quinn sighs, flinching when you don’t ease up on raining down hell on him.

"Quinn!" You stand up, mounting his lap, hands grabbing his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You pout, peering at him with such wide pleading eyes—gone is the glare. You repeat, “You don’t want to give me more?”

“What are you saying?” Quinn groans. The pain is sending heat to his sensitive cock. His mind is hazy. He’s not sure why you’re pouting when he just told you he wants another position. “I didn’t say that.”

Because…why would he get in the way of what you want? When did he ever do that to you?

You want pancakes for morning? Sure, he’ll make you some while he makes his own plate of smoked salmon, eggs, and potatoes. You want coffee? He’ll brew you a cup. You want beer? Even if he doesn’t drink anymore, he always keep the cans of your favorite brand in the fridge. You want a cocktail or mocktail? He has recipes in his phone.

You always get what you want. He’ll make sure you have everything you want. Everything you need. He’ll give it with no hesitation. So why the fuck would you think he’ll not let you have your fill of him?

“Well, you basically said it.” You sniffle for effect which works immediately.

Quinn is sitting straighter, mind clearing up yet he’s still confused. What did he say again?

“I want to eat you out, then I’ll fuck you,” were his stumbling words. Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You fucked him too much with your mouth that he didn’t say all of what he wanted to say. No wonder you’re pissed and sad.

“Sorry, my Love.” Quinn brushes a hand over your glistening lower lip that was just around his cock. “I meant to say and to rephrase, I want to eat you out while I fuck your mouth.”

You whimper almost immediately. Your grip on him finally eases. He, kind of, likes the pain, but the release only send more heat to his cock. You nod, grinding your clothes pussy over his aching member, hands rubbing over his shoulders to further your point that you’re pleased. Quinn is too. This is the reaction he was thinking about. Not the glare. Just you, being so needy as him, while his own hands grip and trace circles on your thighs.

“You should turn off the TVs. You’re wasting energy,” you murmur against his lips, teasing him with kisses that you’ll make him work for.

You’re just there, but you’re not letting him kiss you. Quinn keeps trying to kiss, failing and failing because you decide to kiss the corners of his lips. You’re driving him insane.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, willing himself not to come again as you grind over his cock, he turns off TVs, groaning when your hand wraps around his cock. Just tell him if you want him dead. You’re killing him with every stroke. If he hasn’t yet seen stars from the earlier tryst, he is now.

“My Love,” he gasps—shamefully sounding like a whine. “I will come if you don’t stop.”

“It’s okay. I won’t waste it.” You nip at his ear. He can feel your tongue tracing along the shell of his fucking ear. “Just one more. Then we can go to the bedroom?”

“F-fuck,” he breathes, hips shallowly meeting your rhythm. “You’re copying me, aren’t you?”

He feels your grin against his ear. You finally let go of his ear to meet his gaze, mischievous glim in your eyes. Of course, you are. Of fucking course. No way this is unprovoked. This is you enacting revenge on him for how much he teased you before. Isn’t it? Fuck.

He’s so fucked.

Still, he doesn’t mind it, but you’re really killing him. Especially now, because you fucking spit on his dick. The way you immediately slick it down his cock, mixing it with his arousal—he is fucking dribbling pre-cum or maybe it’s already fucking cum. He’s not sure.

“You don’t like it?” You taunt, brushing ghost-like kisses on his parted lips.

Cruel. You’re so cruel.

“Please, my Love,” he pleads.

You’re making him feel so weak.

“I promise. Just one more.” You press a soothing kiss on his eyebrow like it would help him.

Your words are exactly what he whispers when he fucks you—with his tongue or fingers or thigh or cock. Oh, you’ve plotted this so hard, haven’t you? It’s working so much. Quinn doesn’t understand why it does. He’s so utterly confused why it’s so hard to contain himself when he can fuck your pussy and make you come around him so many times without coming instantly. So why is your hand undoing him so easily? A fucking mystery.

It honestly doesn’t even matter.

Fuck. It feels so good. Like a high without drugs or alcohol or caffeine. It’s just you.

“I need your cum, Quinn.” You finally capture his lip, tongue immediately moving against his.

He groans because. Fuck. His. Life. He can taste himself. His cum. God, he tastes so good on you.

“’m close,” Quinn mumbles.

He bites down on his lips because of how fast you part from him, a trail of saliva just breaking and hitting his chin. Curses string past his lips when you greedily licked over his dribbling slit. He’s fucking gone. He can’t stop coming into your mouth. Can’t stop his hands from grabbing your head, down his fucking length so he can spill down your throat. You said you won’t waste it. He trusts you. He does. But fuck, he needs to make sure. Needs it to reach nowhere else but inside you.

He whispers your name, pleading for you to stop sucking, but you keep sucking, flattening your tongue up his underside. His vision turns fucking spotty that he wraps his hands around your hair and forces you off his cock. Pop. The fucking pop of you releasing his cock from your suction. You succubus. Nymph. Minx. Oh, God. There’s no saving him.

“Stop, stop.” Quinn pants, sweat beading on his skin. “Give me a fucking minute.”

“You never gave me a minute last week.” You smirk up at him, scratching his thighs with your nails. “Did you?”

“No,” Quinn groans, letting go of your hair, trying to fix it but failing. “Sorry.”

Shrugging, you stand up, grabbing his hands to help him up. Quinn feels like he ran two marathons. His legs are almost jelly as he walks after you. He can’t stop looking at your ass especially when you push your shorts down, revealing nothing else. You got no panties? Fuck. He almost wobbles when his fucking cock just stands. You tut, pushing him down to sit on the bed.

His lips part, failing to produce words. His throat is fucking dry. Blush heats up his cheeks when you hand him a bottle of water, coaxing him to drink while you strip down to nothing. Quinn has never drunk water so fast. His hands tremble around the plastic, squeezing like it’s a squeeze bottle—it’s not. He made a mess which would normally drive him insane. Not today.

Not when you just sat on his lap, hands going up, from your inner thighs to the glistening flesh where it meets your pussy, to your waist, to your breasts. Like you’re presenting them to him. Evil. So fucking evil like a Demoness.

“You wanna fuck these first before—”

“No,” he cuts you off, his sight darkening, his blood simmering. He’s done playing your games. You can play some other time. “Sit on my face, my Love.”

Quinn grabs your throat when you try to speak. You whimper when he pressses down your arteries, controlling the blood flow to your brain, just how you like it. Your whole demeanor shifts from the teasing brat to helpless and needy whore. Just like that Quinn grabs your rein. So easy when you were so fucking playful.

“Sit on my face or I’ll have your head hanging over the edge to fuck your throat while I eat you out,” he threatens.

Your sharp breath and whine, your hand gripping around his wrist when he gives another firm squeeze, and your arousal dripping on thigh are all signs that you want both.

You’re so hungry today. Still can’t get your fill of him when he already gave you two full loads. Greedy.

“Which one first?” he asks, releasing you, making you whine and grab his hand to put around your throat again. He does, but he doesn’t put the pressure you thoroughly need.

“I want to sit on your face,” you grumble, annoyance leaking out of you.

“What’s gotten into you today?” Quinn asks, gripping your hip with his other hand. As much as he likes the mind-blowing orgasms, you’re not normally like this. Like you’re proving a point.

“I just wanna reciprocate…” You sigh, looking away then back again. “Plus, a bit of revenge. You made me lose it last week. I want to do it too. I chose today.”

He watches your tongue dart out to lick your lips, watches your eyelashes fan as you blink. Your hands rub over his chest like you’re stringing a spell. It’s working. Whatever shadowed his vision clears. All he can see is you. His heart pounds. Quicker. Much quicker than it already did.

You’re staring at him with those pitiful eyes. He can’t help but melt.

“You can do whatever you want,” Quinn groans. “I did go hard on you last week, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you huff, biting your lip. “I loved it.”

Of course, you did. Quinn enjoyed it too. He always enjoys his time with you. Whatever you two do. Movies. Cooking. Cleaning. Kissing. Fucking. Sitting down on the couch without doing anything. He loves doing things with you.

“I enjoyed what you did to me,” Quinn pertains to the earlier moments. He instantly gets rewarded with a wide smile. Your smile that makes your eyes crinkle at the sides, eyes sparkling with so much joy. “You made me lose my shit.”

You laugh, so amused, so proud of yourself. You should be. You have that right. He loves you so much, so he kisses you. Less unhurried. Never less of love.

But when you scoot further down his thigh, pussy grinding over his cock, he’s once again a goner. It’s all fucking blink. Now he’s lying on his back, gripping your hips, pulling you down, tongue slowly lapping over your pulsing clit to your entrance. Fuck, tastes like a perfect pussy. A delectable pussy.

Oh, the way you scream, trying to get away when he’s only starting.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs as your back arches, as you helplessly pant. “I thought you want more?”

Your answering sob drowns out his senses. This is what he needed. Everything feels so right, so fair. He savors your taste, sliding his tongue into your quivering pussy. You’re so wet. You haven’t come yet, have you? He got to fix that. That’s not fucking allowed. He needs to feel you come so hard around his tongue.

You whimper, grinding down, hands on his abdomen for leverage. Your words are nothing but gibberish, yet he understands it. You want more. More. And more. He’ll give you more. You don’t need to beg. Not now. Some other time, maybe. Before he can start plotting, Quinn swipes his finger over your clit and pussy pulsates.

You let out a breathy scream. You grind down while also trying to run from the pleasure. So Quinn hooks one arm over your thigh. You can’t escape him. Not when he’s the one feasting now. You can’t rob him after he came for you. He won’t let you.

You keep muttering his name, keep trying to get off, keep grinding on him. His pretty girl is so conflicted. That’s cute. You’re cute.

Your thighs are quivering. Your weight on him. Quinn loves that so much. He smells your arousal, your cum, your pussy. He smells everything. He would love to die between your thighs. Die with your taste on his tongue. The only thing that’s missing is your lips around his cock. Where the fuck are you?

You mutter his name in a whiny voice, cursing and sighing. You probably fail to remember why you two are in this position. You always do that, but it’s okay. Quinn’s here for that reason. He traces up his hand over your thighs, your hips, and your back. He put pressure on your arch of your spine.

Finally, he feels your breaths on his cock. Your clumsy kisses on his shaft made him thrust up. Damn. He doesn’t think any of you will survive this position. Both of you are losing it. Why are you two only doing this position now? God, your lips, your tongue, your mouth, your throat. All of them feel so good.

Your wanton moans send vibrations through his whole body, so he makes sure to do the same, humming into your pussy, tongue tracing every crevice in you, sucking and gulping your arousal. Your responding sounds bring him more pleasure. Physically around his cock. Emotionally because he’s the cause.

Fucking perfect.

Quinn replaces his tongue with two of his fingers—the ring and the middle—and his thumb traces and teases your clit. He licks up to your other hole. He can’t neglect any of you, can he? No. Never. He’ll die if he does. Too bad he can’t reach the lube in the drawers. Too bad your arousal or his spit isn't enough lubrication. Too fucking bad.

‘Next time’, he thinks.

Quinn gives it a few more kissed before he’s back to your pussy, because you’re whining for him to stop. If you don’t want his touch there, then he won’t. He knows you. You just don’t want it today. That’s perfectly fine. Whatever you want.

He slides his tongue besides his fingers, stretching you. He knows how much you can take. You can take more than this. Oh, you do. And you love it. It’s the way your pussy clenches around his tongue, his fingers. The perfect squeeze like you’re afraid that he'll leave. He will never. He will—

You kiss his fucking tip like you’re making out with him. Your hand rubbing down his fucking length. Harsher, harder, sucking and playing with him as he does with your pussy.

“Fuck,” Quinn mutters as you do.

“Quinn,” you breathe as you kiss along length. “Close.”

He knows. He fucking knows. He can feel the familiar tremors he felt just minutes ago. The tremors he thoroughly memorized every time his cock is seated inside you. To know you is such a gift he’ll never take for granted.

So, he lets you come again, lets your cum drip into his awaiting tongue, lets you ride your orgasm. He lets you even the playing field, because now, both of you are in the same tally.

Two for two.

A good ratio, but not for Quinn. He needs you to come more than him. He needs you to soak him and lose it because it’s too much. He needs you to writhe and beg for rest. He needs your head over the edge while he fucking uses your throat. He needs to hear you gag. He needs to see your tears on flush cheeks. He needs to see your pussy red and raw from just his tongue while you get overwhelmed.

He already lets you have your control, but you’re always on the losing side here. He has more stamina and more drive to use you. Oh, the ways he’ll use you for what you’ve done to this supposed lazy rest day.

You’ve done this.

You should be prepared for more. The way you whine so softly, you’re still clueless about what you’ve done. You thought he’d just let you get away.

Quinn is kind. He’ll let you have your fill of his cum. You want your stomach to be filled with, so he’ll give that to you. It will warm your stomach, but you would realize that your pussy is not. Not a single drop of cum inside.

He knows it will drive you fucking insane.

You will be begging to be filled while also begging to stop. You will be so conflicted.

That’s a perfect scenario.

Because Quinn will not listen.

You can have whatever you want, but he already decided…not tonight.

<- Previous (Part 1: Payback)

[acid-ixx]

seasons in the sun: goodbye, my love, please pray for me...

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist ! ; related post !

you guys i'm sorry for literally dying from the feed all of a sudden but i need y'all to be as feral as i am for the idea of a romantic! yandere jason with his childhood sweetheart reader.

y'know, the dichotomy of what used to be softness in the past in your relationship with jason. you know him as the sweet, malnourished boy who trespassed in your house to raid your fridge, the kind protector of your apartment after you'd offer your leftovers when he'd invaded your house and you're the only one left, advising him to run off to the balcony to hide once your parents come back from their trip; the silly guy who laughs shyly at your jokes, who'd coincidentally became your classmate after he'd been taken in by his rich father, who recalled the story to you when you'd both sneak by the backyard of your school with no qualms for privacy because it's you who he first learned to trust when he's thrust into the cruel lifestyle of the streets, knowing only how to bare his teeth but never how to retract it at the hands of its owner.

he's your closest confidant, the smart, nerdy boy who reciprocated your blooming romance, read classics to you with his squeaky voice, who offers to share with you his lollipops to "make up for all the times i ate your dinner at home," who secretly shoves his assignment answers under your desk when you'd forgotten to do yours and whispers the answers to the questions you're forced to recite when he notices your tensed jaws and quivering lips, shy and unaware of what to tell the teacher. only he knows it when your confidence is at an all-time low, and he helps guide through your problems like how you've been the only light in his life.

jason is the sweetest boy, he has no idea how to hold your hands, whose face flushes when your lips kiss his cheeks and when you cheekily grin at him after. sweaty fingers interlace with yours while you both lay on the grass of the gardens, listening to him rambling about the stars, and magic, and fantasy worlds, after bruce had finally permitted you to enter the manor because even his father could see how lovely you've impacted his adopted son; both of you keeping secret of your first meeting, similar to how you bask under the moonlight, alone, as if your presence yearns to be worshipped, he thinks.

he's your childhood sweetheart, and nothing can ever shatter the reality that he's the only right one for you.

your first love, sure, and your first heartbreak too.

taken away from the world at the cruel hands of death, at the ripe age of 17. the details his father retold you, with his equally somber, mourning expression do no justice to what felt like sledgehammers breaking a dam in your heart, your entire world breaking, even bruce's hands weighing at you shoulders during the entire funeral process don't ground you at all, you've no thought other than just how truly lonely you are to the world without him by your side—

the burden only becomes heavier, the tears refusing to drip from your eyes, staring at the picture frame of your happy, chipped-tooth lover now in a casket, surrounded by mourning flowers, sun dipping below the horizon which only darkens your vision.he unmoving now, dead, actually, and your mind couldn't comprehend how you'll never hear the chirp of his voice on one side of his ears and feel the scabs on his skin slowly fading away each day under your care.

even if your chest beats too loudly in your ears, your sweetheart, for the first time in your life, wouldn't be able to grasp at your shivering hands and assure you that he's alright.

he's gone. your sweet, loving, jason is gone.

you wish he'd die in your arms instead, rather than left you aching, worried and senseless from the days he'd suddenly disappear, then suddenly dead from a bombing, as what his father had told you. and you're not there to witness the scene, you couldn't even fathom just how much your body — still locked in place watching the funeral proceedings from afar, you don't feel quite yourself anymore — wishes to run to his open casket just to take his cold, laying body in your arms to feel your warmth.

at such an early moment, from what had felt like an eternity spent with the young boy, yet such a short span of being together with him at the same time— your grief has you yearning for the past image of your sweetheart. you want him back, you want your jason back. the years you've wasted, trying so hard to repair, to fill the broken gaps in your heart, to overcorrect, finding and chasing the comfort from other people, yet reeling away when every other person felt so foreign in your arms instead. nothing could ever replace the sweet ache in your tooth back when you're with him, nobody could amount to the tears you've wasted over jason because nobody is jason.

not even him, not when he came back a hardened soul, with a different body now bigger and stronger than you, who'd visit you during the night, intruding in on your apartment which oh-so prompts you to recall the very first day you'd met him. you don't know of his hardships, you're given a different story and the entire situation perplexes you, but you couldn't deny the ache in your chest when faced with this burly man, standing in front of you, breathing heavily and gazing at you with the same, starstruck stare that pins you on the spot of your bed.

he doesn't look like the jason who died, but he feels so much like him that your tender tears finally dripped down your quivering cheeks after what felt like eons of grief.

when he was resurrected from the dead after two years, he's not quite the same jason that you'd known and loved. he's broken, crawling out of that disgusting pit with only rage in his heart and the inclination to plot vengeance on those who've wronged him. there shouldn't've been an ounce of softness left, no love nor desire, no fantasy of his ex-lover when it should only be violence that he'd have known. but even so, beneath every vile emotion he felt, was the drive, the passion to come back to you first after he'd come to his senses. he'd remember screaming in agony, at feeling the rickety bones grinding against one another, at feeling for the sinewy muscles now aching and bulging in its restraints.

he's in a body taller than when he'd pass away from, and he wishes, after gaining enough consciousness— he fucking wishes you're there with him during the recovery phase, from when he's left to the cavern of his thoughts, braindead and unable to comprehend ra's al ghul's words, not when he's busy drowning in the depths of his clawing memories of you. nothing, not even the silken sheets he lays on, compares to you kissing his wounds like you always do and comforting him with your hushed words. beyond the exterior of his violence, of his boiling rage, was the hope that you'd still think of him in every waking moment the same way his first thought directs at how your fingers would tenderly graze at his skin.

i'm just saying, the angst/comfort potential of having the only person closest to you stripped away from your grasps, now in a different image. he's the same man you've prayed every single day to come back, but being faced to face with him that moonlit night, while your eyes still take in the unfamiliar form of jason's body towering over you, when his hands couldn't keep itself plastered to its side that it just, reaches out to grab you so he could bury his head on your clavicle and take a whiff of your body— you couldn't ignore the sheer differences.

how he scrunched his body to meet your height unlike the past where it's you adjusting to him, how his hands take precaution to ensure you're not crushed by his deadly strength, palms bigger than your head, how he takes utmost consideration peppering kisses on your shoulders, mumbling his apologies, his "i miss you, baby,"'s and "i love you s'much, i'm sorry for being gone for too long, sweetheart"'s, his refusal to release you; all while your heart raises a mile a minute because this is the red hood in front of you, clad in heavy metal armoury and mercenary weapons; a danger to gotham's criminal kind. yet it's him who speaks to you like your beloved jason with his heavy accent and rushed words, now a deep tremor compared to the young boy who chirps your name.

the only thing closest to you which reminds you of your past moments with jason, was that ever-so dedicated look of love. his hazy gaze, disguised under marred skin and sunken piercing eyes, yet so delicately filled with love that fills your chest with nostalgia long gone: of nights spent together at your apartment when he'd read you your favorite fairytales, of days having picnics together, baskets filled with handpicked fruits and alfred's sandwich, of moments coddling each other, feeding off the warm buzz off both bodies, legs entangled, sharing innocent kisses behind the trees.

of heartfelt promises, long forgotten yet still protected within jason's heart now guarded under lock and key, with only you having access if you just allow him to be loved by you once more. the man before you is a man who's changed, filled with contempt, jealousy, scorn for a mankind that scorches at every criminal, emotions so utterly complex compared to the boy you used to look at with ease, whose emotions used to be so easily distinguished from anger and adoration, who never beared hatred unlike now.

and you, who's just so conflicted, equally broken and unable to understand the entire situation. why, just why does the world want to torment you so much that it brings your old lover back— but different, hands now scarred, pinning you down with unfamiliar muscles bigger than your body, burying himself on your shoulders, mumbling and sobbing about his woes while your mind still reels itself back in to comfort him as you always do. this is the man you still love. his touch is all-knowing, he knows you loved it when his kisses reach the back of your ears, when his fingers fondle your waist.

he's different, yet the same. if it's not your dear jason coming back, if it was red hood, then why do you still recognize his presence so easily?

his aggressiveness to others you couldn't approve — the news labels him a brutal anti-hero, batman's new criminal enemy, he's a weapon of fear you should've resented — but why is it that it's his gentleness towards you that makes your heart ache at the memories of when he'd defend you from intruders, using his wits instead of his lacking strength? why do you feel like a completed puzzle piece in his arms?

he's here now. the red hood is here, but so is jason todd.

you could've called the gcpd, report them of his intrusion inside your house, forget all of this ever happened. but you should've also never brought your hands up to tangle itself upon the messy tresses of his black hair now streaked with white at the front, you shouldn't've hushed him and his cracking voice, taking his cheeks in your palms and having him look you straight in the eyes, drowning at dulled, blue eyes. once it reminds you of the blazing sky, now it's like the raging storms of the sea at night. without his red, gleaming helmet, he's reduced to your sweetheart; you cradle his head and stay silent.

still conflicted over brewing emotions, over the resurfacing love that you've forced yourself to bury the same time his casket was buried under the manor's soil.

in truth, you're tired of yearning, or constantly seeking a cheap, temporary replacement for jason. you've come to the stage of anger and withdrawal too, and your friends have told you that you should learn to rebound. but you're oh-so parched from love that no other could've given you, that you just couldn't fully relinquish your feelings, you can't.

in truth, you almost learnt to let go. almost.

but there's always the greatest fact: it's that as long as he's alive, even if resurrected and never the same, you'll still learn to love him over and over again, no matter if it takes years, he's yours and you're his. despite the cruelty he bears to others, he's your sweet boy, you miss him far too long, far too deeply. all is fair in love and war, they say, and all you wanted to do was to replicate those moments where it's just the two of you; even if his body is now bigger than you, you can still hold him, no? even if he knows how to wield guns better than how he held you shyly back then, he can learn—

thing is, you just wish things were simpler, you wish he'd have no other priorities, you wish the world didn't strip him away from his innocence. jason didn't deserve it, his death, and when he'd confess the truth: of his identity, of how he truly passed away, of his trials and tribulations to earn the path back to your place; you're left stinging with ache more than nostalgia, wishing you'd notice sooner.

so even if the man who lays in bed with you now is different, he's still the same man who held you tight in his arms, who remembers how to tuck you in the way you like it, who gazes at you filled with adoration, lips still quirking up hesitantly at your expectant stare. maybe it hurts, still, that he's not entirely the same jason who's smiles without bounds, who doesn't sport the same crinkle of mirthful eyes and jumpy actions, but he still retains the same love he'd carry for you all those years, even in death—

he's back, and that's all that matters.

a/n: yes do leave comments 🤩 idk what i just wrote honestly, srs about that. and i wrote it so that you do kind of have more... obsessive traits towards jason hehe. he's my favorite other than tim drake (well almost every character in dc is my fave, but i have my top spots), and tbh the reason i disappeared was because i was getting too invested in canon dc content that i forgot to write for it ngl.

[kxsagi]

“𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢���𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟗𝟖 💔”

a/n: THESE LEAKS BRUH

FIRST, ISAGI AND RIN TIE AT #1

THEN SHIDOU BEATS BAROU FOR #3

AND NOW NAGI IS FULL ON ELIMINATED HUH????????

nagi fans i feel your pain, but trust that he will come back and maybe pull a kunigami but not turn out emo 🤞 (don’t know artist credits sorry)

when you walk into the apartment, you expect to find nagi on the couch, maybe gaming half-heartedly or mindlessly scrolling through his phone. instead, you see him sprawled out on the floor, limbs splayed like he’s been dramatically struck down in battle. 

your first thought is that he’s dead. 

your second thought is that, no, if he were actually dead, he’d at least have had the decency to collapse onto something more comfortable. 

“… seishiro?” you call hesitantly, setting your things down. 

a long, guttural groan comes from the floor. 

you squint. “you good?” 

“no.” his voice is muffled against the carpet. “i lost.” 

“yeah, i saw.” you walk over, nudging his leg with your foot. “but do you have to be on the floor about it?” 

“yes.” 

you sigh and crouch down beside him. “you know normal people mope on the couch, right?” 

“couches are for winners,” he mutters, still facedown. 

you purse your lips, fighting back a grin. “so, what, the floor is for losers?” 

he nods, just the faintest movement against the rug. “i live here now.” 

you roll your eyes, reaching out to poke his cheek. “okay, well, if you live here, you still have to eat. get up.” 

another groan, this one even more dramatic. “too much work…” 

“okay, but what if i said there was cake in the fridge?” 

silence. 

then slowly, nagi turns his head just enough to peek at you with one eye, white hair a complete disaster. 

“what kind of cake?” 

you smile sweetly. “strawberry shortcake.” 

his fingers twitch against the floor. “is it… fresh?” 

“super fresh.” 

he exhales like you’ve just given him the will to live. but then, just as quickly, he groans again. “can’t move. limbs don’t work.” 

you cross your arms. “so, what, do i have to carry you now?” 

he blinks at you. then, after a pause, nods. “yeah. carry me.” 

you stare at him. “you are literally taller than me.” 

“you’re strong,” he counters, voice sleepy, but serious. “too strong.” 

you snort. “fine. but if i pull a muscle, i’m eating your cake.” 

his eyes widen, and suddenly, he moves, slow and sluggish, but definitely not paralyzed like he claimed. before you know it, he’s reaching out, wrapping his arms around your waist, and –

flop. 

he collapses into your lap, draping himself over you like a massive, lazy cat. 

“there,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your stomach. “halfway there. now just drag me.” 

you burst out laughing. “seishiro, i swear –” 

he sighs dramatically. “just leave me here. let the floor take me.” 

you shake your head, running your fingers through his messy hair. “you big baby.” 

he hums, eyes slipping shut. “mmm. your baby.” 

your heart does a weird little flip, but you push past it. “so, does that mean you’re getting up now?” 

“… nah.” 

you sigh, but you don’t stop stroking his hair. instead, you let him sink into the warmth of your touch, fingers threading through soft white strands. 

“you know,” you murmur, “i’m really proud of you.” 

his breath hitches, just slightly, but you feel it. 

“even though i lost?” he mumbles. 

“especially because you lost,” you say. “because you fought for something. because you cared enough to try. and because you were amazing, seishiro.” 

his fingers tighten slightly in the fabric of your shirt. 

you smile. “besides, you’re still my winner.” 

he exhales, long and slow, nuzzling further into you. “… you’re so unfair.” 

“yup.” you boop his nose. “now get up before i eat your cake.” 

he groans but finally, finally, peels himself off the floor. 

as you help him up, he leans against you, arms still lazily wrapped around you, chin resting on your shoulder. 

“… can you still carry me, though?” 

you shove him playfully. “get your own cake, you menace!”

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[whateverloomis]

🖤 Dilf!Billy Loomis x Dilf!Stu Macher x AFAB reader (Stepcest)

Here it is cuties, part two (part one) <33 The thirst for dilf!Billy and Stu is intense with this one. Hope y'all enjoy ;)

Important: The image of the dress is only to show what I described in the fic. It's not intended to set a specific body type for the reader.

Tag list: @toxicanonymity @lyl1pad @elmoispookie

Warnings: Stepfather!Billy Loomis, age gap (middle aged Billy and Stu. Reader in their 20s,) AFAB reader (they/them used,) predetermined outfit, cheating, alcohol consumption, weed use, fingering, p in v, oral (both receiving, masturbation, rough sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, lots of teasing, revised: January'25

Word count: 2.1k

After two weeks of nearly getting caught fucking your stepfather on your mothers bed you thought it would serve as a lesson and it totally wasn't.

You hadn’t gotten the chance to have sex with Billy again but that didn’t stop you from brushing your hand over his crotch whenever you walked past him, and it sure didn’t stop him from hugging you from behind and giving your tits a few squeezes while you cooked before your mother walked in the kitchen. Also, why would you waste an opportunity to makeout with him on the couch during movie night while your mother was in the bathroom? You were playing with fire. Getting caught was a stone's throw away but neither of you cared..

The third week after your little adventure you found yourself annoyed as you set up the whole house for a work party your mother was hosting. It was her boss's birthday and since she’s the manager and employee with the biggest house it was basically a default that most activities happened at your place.

That’s also how you met Stu Macher…

It was around the time Billy and your mother started living together. There was a small get together out by the pool and you were inside serving yourself a much needed glass of wine. As you poured the drink Stu walked in to get himself a beer from the mini fridge.

You made brief eye contact with the man and didn’t make much of it until he walked over to the kitchen counter to grab a red solo cup.

“Aren’t you too young to be drinking?” he asked you jokingly, but you could tell it was more than a casual comment.

“I’m legal if that’s what you’re asking” you answered, sassy as ever.

Stu found your little attitude amusing and held the conversation a bit longer than intended.

“You’re a feisty one, huh?” he countered and chuckled.

You couldn’t help but smirk. The dimple that his smile revealed, his natural flirtiness and his goddamn height was a mixture that excited and peaked your interest.

“And that seems to interest you” you continued and he leaned against the counter.

“You caught me there” Stu said and took a swing of his beer.

“Aren’t you supposed to be outside with your work buddies?” you asked before taking a sip of your wine. The cool and tart taste soothed your body.

“To be honest with you, I’d rather be at my house but y’know, gotta pretend that I like these people to keep a good appearance at work” he answered and you nodded.

“Cheers to that” you said and clicked your glass with his beer bottle.

“You wanna get out of here?” Stu asked jokingly and hell, you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat if he was dead serious about it.

“Why would I leave with a stranger?” you flirted and he smiled wide, those goddamn dimples on full display again.

“It’s Stu. Stu Macher” he said and looked out to the backyard as someone calling him.

“See you around, Stu” you closed the conversation and walked past him towards your room.

The man stared as you walked all the way to the hallway, raking his eyes all over your body. He would’ve taken you right then and there had it been another situation, and you sure as hell would’ve given in without hesitating. You even had a wet dream that same night about him fucking you on top of that kitchen counter…

As you arranged the bottles of liquor on that same counter, you remembered that moment and bit your lip at the memory. You even got wet at the thought and it enhanced as you felt Billy wrap his strong arms around your middle.

“I better not catch you drinking any of that tonight” he whispered in your ear and you pressed your ass against his crotch.

“Why? Am I getting in trouble if I do, Daddy?” you asked innocently and the man hissed.

“You’re getting fucked tonight if you keep teasing me like this” Billy replied while squeezing your waist.

“Can’t wait” you said and pushed your back against his chest, enough to move him and give you space to escape his grasp and walk to the backyard.

•

It was 11pm and everyone was tipsy enough to talk freely and be loud. You would be cooped up in your room having a solo smoking sesh if you didn't have entertainment. Two men to play around with. Billy and Stu, to be exact.

You decided to wear something provocative enough to get both of their attention throughout the night. A silk, olive green dress with thin straps and lower back cut.

You decided to go braless as well, your buds visible in an almost classy way. Underwear was out of the question too, easy access was your fun little secret. Even if you didn't get your way with any of the men of interest, at least you could fuck yourself with your favorite toy without the hassle of taking your clothes off.

Outside, you were leaning against the rail of the porch, just enough for your dress to hike up below your ass cheeks. A glass of wine in one hand and a vape in the other. You had a nice buzz coursing through your body and the cool air felt like a wave washing over you.

“Mind if I join?”

Behind you Stu was standing closer than expected. His button shirt had the sleeves rolled up and you couldn't help but look at his strong arms.

“Not at all” you answered, voice soft and inviting.

The man smirked and stood next to you; “Nicotine?” he asked, pointing at your vape.

You chuckled and shook your head no, “Weed. Want a hit?” you offered, which you rarely did but this was a special occasion.

“Sure,” he answered and took a hit from the device, releasing the smoke slowly.

You bit your lip at the sight, it looked hotter than it should've and you were already starting to grow wet between your legs. His proximity was enough to do so, but that sight really did it for you.

Little did you know, Billy was observing you from inside the house pretending to be involved in a conversation between 3 people. You caught his eyes and thought it would be fun to get him a little jealous and rile him up a bit.

As you made small talk with Stu, you got touchy with him on purpose as well as purposely bubbly and flirty, giggling and laughing loud enough for Billy to hear.

“You have the cutest laugh” Stu pointed out and you blushed, covering your mouth while you gasped, hitting his arm playfully.

“Having a good time?” Billy approached Stu and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing tightly.

Stu glared at him subtly before catching your stare. Both men were scanning your body, looking from head to toe shamelessly.

“A great time now that you joined us,” you said boldly and he chuckled.

Stu took note of your flirtiness, confirming what Billy shared about you two earlier that night…

“Wait, on your wife's bed?” Stu asked, laughing. Definitely interested in the whole situation.

“Yeah, that little cunt is to die for. Nearly ended up knocking them up.” Billy continued, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Damn, I'd do anything to get a piece of that.” Stu said while staring at you from a distance. Billy enjoyed the view as well and he definitely had to fuck you that night or else he'd go insane.

“We could tag team for sure. A little more alcohol and weed will do the trick.” Billy confirmed and the men were both set on fucking your brains out…

Which is exactly what happened.

You don't know how you ended up in your room with your stepfather and his best friend, but there you were, on your bed straddling Billy's lap, making out furiously while he groped your ass.

Stu was sitting on your office chair enjoying the view of your now hiked up dress. Booty on full display for him.

You moaned into Billy's mouth as you started to grind against his clothes cock, desperate to have him inside you.

“Fuck, you look so good for us.” Stu said while unbuttoning his jeans, his hard cock finally being released from being trapped in his pants. Of course he didn't wear underwear.

You shook your ass to tease him and Billy spanked you. A warning from his part.

“You save that little attitude for me” he said and you smirked, loving how possessive your stepdad behaved with you.

“I was just playing around, Daddy” you teased further and he pushed you off his lap, pinning you against the bed, his large hand reaching between your legs.

Billy used his middle and ring finger to rub your clit in circular motions. Ring finger decorated with its rightful marriage ring, of course. A sinful display.

He collected your slick from your entrance, dipping his fingers just enough before sliding them back up to your clit.

You were sensitive at the start of the night, but after the alcohol, weed, the teasing… fuck, you could cum just by Billy rubbing your most sensitive spot between your legs. He was borderline torturing you with his slow, methodical movements between your legs.

You ended up grinding against his fingers, trying to feel them deeper inside you but the man wasn't going to please you. No. He needed you to be desperate for him, and that you were.

Finally breaking, you grabbed Billy's hand and pushed his fingers inside you. The long, pathetic, whiny moan you released made both Billy and Stus cocks twitch. Your cute noises affected them the same way and that did it for the man above you. He turned you around and unbuckled his belt quickly, followed by the zipper. He didn't bother to lower his pants much and released his cock enough to bury himself inside your cunt. You were soaked and the stretch felt incredibly good, especially when he bottomed out.

Thank Gods he positioned you on all fours because Stu was right in front of you. He was pumping his cock at the same speed Billy thrust inside you. He imagined how good your cunt must feel around his 8 incher, and you shared the same thought.

“You're such a slut” Billy grunted and pushed your head against the mattress, “Fucking your stepfather again and letting his friend join?” he continued and this time he pulled your hair back, your head facing forward to meet Stus gaze once again, “Pathetic” Billy finished and you bit your lip before sticking your tongue out for Stu. You needed to feel him inside you too and the man understood your message clearly. He walked towards you, cock in hand and rested the tip on your tongue. You purposely drooled and felt him harden further at the sight. You knew exactly what you were doing and he did too.

In a second Stu slid his cock inside your mouth and thrust in unison with Billy. You were stuffed and it felt incredible from both ends. Your eyes rolled back on their own as you felt your orgasm building. You needed to cum and that night you sure as hell didn't want Billy to pull out, so you made sure you squeezed him good when you came.

Reaching under your pillow, you pulled out the vibrator you were using the night prior and placed it on your clit, hitting the perfect spot and combining both pleasure points. The way you squeezed Billy's cock while you were reaching your high made it impossible for him to hold back.

“Fuck baby, keep that up and I'll fill you up real good,” Billy moaned and you whined around Stus cock. The vibration of your voice nearly pushing him over the edge.

After a few more minutes you came around your stepfather's cock, moaning around Stus cock again as he came inside your mouth. You swallowed as much as you could, the rest dripping all over your bed.

Finally, Billy came and he didn't care about pulling out, much to your liking. He thrust hard enough for the skin on skin contact to echo around the room as he filled you up with his seed, both of you moaning and groaning non stop.

When he pulled out his cum dripped out of your cunt and he spread your thighs to get a good look, chuckling at the sight

•

“You're leaving?” You asked Stu, pouting.

“My wife is waiting for me, don't wanna get home too late.” He said while buckling his belt.

When the man looked up, Billy was crawling between your legs ready to clean his mess with his skilled tongue. Stu chuckled while fixing his hair with his large hands.

“Don't have too much fun without me” he said.

“Get out” Billy said, half serious, half playful before licking a stripe along your slit.

Stu was already getting hard and had to hide his half boner before walking out of your room.

[joonberriess]

teeth. ☆ j.jk

⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting

⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k

⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”

The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.

You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.

Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”

Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.

“What number is this?”

“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.

You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”

You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.

“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”

You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.

“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.

You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.

“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.

You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.

“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.

You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.

“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”

“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”

“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”

You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.

He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.

You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.

The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.

“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.

The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.

“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.

He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.

You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.

“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.

You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.

You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.

He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.

You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.

He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.

“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.

“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.

A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.

He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.

“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.

Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.

You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.

There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.

“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.

“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.

A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.

He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”

You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.

He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.

You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.

From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.

“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.

You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.

“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.

His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.

“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.

He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.

When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.

“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.

“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.

Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.

“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.

A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.

“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”

You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.

“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.

You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.

He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.

You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.

“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.

You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.

+

Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.

“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.

“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”

A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[halloween m.list]

[kissitbttr]

you slam your purse down on the kitchen counter, heels clicking towards the fridge.

behind you, toji rolls his eyes and throws his head back with a loud sigh. he shrugs off his coat before hanging it on the rack. “here we go” he mutters tiredly,

you throw a glance over your shoulder and shoot a glare at him. “what?”

“nothing” toji strides towards you with hands on his hips. “just think that maybe you should act your fucking age for once, sweetheart”

and it makes you let out the loudest yet sarcastic cackle in the middle of the kitchen, unaware of toji’s clenching jaw as he stares at you.

“funny you should say that because it was definitely me who’s acting like my own age while my fiancée was out whoring himself out with a skinny blonde skank in green dress during the gala”

oh fucking—

“jesus” he sighs, rubbing his face up and down with both palms. staring at how your body turns away from him, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and closing it with your heel. “this is what is all about?!”

“yeah, what else?” you sass, looking at him while twisting the cap off. “got another bitch you’re flirting with i do not know about?”

thread carefully fushiguro he thinks, don’t forget how mean she can be

“baby..” he tries to talk softly with you, calming himself so he wouldn’t lash out. “she was an investor… it is my job to find a high quality investor so i would be able to extend my business overseas.. why would i be flirting with another woman when i got you there with me tonight, hm?”

you raise an eyebrow, hand on hip. “so are you saying you’d flirt with more if I wasn’t coming with you?”

he gapes. “what the fuck— that’s not what i meant! you’re my woman! why should i even look at other girls?!”

“you just did tonight!” an argument leaves your mouth. “right in front of me!”

“i fucking wasn’t!” he raises his voice. “why would you even think that?!”

“you were staring at her far too long” you point out, eye brows scrunching together, a sign that tells him that you’re not wrong,

toji shakes his head, “we were having a conversation!”

“so you had to look at her like that?!”

“where the fuck my eyes should be looking then?!”

your tongue clicks against your teeth, watching how your man becoming frustrated. “my tits”

and there it is. the smart comeback that toji loves and hate at the same time. fucking christ, he sometimes wonders how on earth could he put up with you for so long.

the answer? ask God.

“you’re being a smarty pants right now with me, mami”

“nope” you pop out the word, putting the bottle down on the counter it creates a sound. “dead serious.” you turn on your heel and move to the other side of the room,

“oh we are not finished” in quick seconds, toji is able to pull you by your hips and draw you to him. causing you to let out a gasp. “hey, hey—how long have we been together, hm?”

no answer. instead, you look away. arms crossed over your chest. but toji isn’t having any of that, his one hand moves under your chin to get you to look at him.

“come on—how long?”

“…three years” you mumble

he nods, locking his eyes with you. “exactly… and when you kept rejecting me because you weren’t saying yes each time i ask you out… what did i do?”

you sigh, eyes closing for a moment. “waited a whole six months for me. sent me details about your whereabouts and what you were doing because you wanted me to know that you’re serious about having a relationship with me”

again, toji nods. the grip he has on your hip loosen, palm squeezing the soft flesh over the fabric of the dress. “now… would i even be willing to throw away our three years spent together for a woman that I don’t even know about nor find attractive? do you not trust me, baby?”

the tone of his voice becomes softer, eyes pleading to let you know that he’s here for you. and it’s always going to be you. he sees a future together even far before the two of you hit your first anniversary. you’re it for him.

“i do, ji-ji” a pout forming on your lips, eyes looking down as you hold onto his arms. “never doubted you one second”

“then why did you do what you did, hm?” he pulls you in closer, arms snaking around your waist. “you know that I wouldn’t leave you—never in a million years—the thought of finding another woman has not even crossed my mind, gorgeous…”

your shoulders come up in a weak shrug, “just don’t like it when girls are attracted to you… it’s pissing me off that they know you’re hot”

he laughs at that, pecking your forehead. “while that might be true, you then know how it feels to be me when i see men gawking over my fiancée. it’s crazy.”

toji earns a small smile from you, blushing a bit. “i guess…”

“you know what goes through my mind when i was talking to the woman tonight?” he asks, watching you shake your head. “i kept thinking about wanting to fuck you in this dress.. so bad.. you were such a distraction I couldn’t think straight” he groans,

with a giggle, you ask “really?” hands moving up around his broad neck and shoulders. he nods with a half smirk. “do you still want to?”

he raises both of his eyebrows, before moving his hands down to your thighs and catching you off guard by throwing your body over the shoulder with one arm. toji picks up the cold bottle of water off the counter and easily make his way upstairs with a giggling soon to be wife.

“you’ll find out soon enough, doll”

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: “The Tru Fru Tragedy”

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: Teen

Warning: mentions of monthly periods, theft, Paige not getting called any pet names.., Kayla helping you get your lick back...

Word Count: 1,245

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: you carefully stocked up on all your favorite period snacks—especially Tru Fru—only to wake up and find them gone. The culprits? Paige and KK....

Everything was fine when I went to sleep.

I had my heating pad, my favorite blanket, and—most importantly—my fully stocked snack stash, featuring multiple bags of Tru Fru and the holy grail: Tru Fru ice cream.

I had prepared so well for this period.

Then I woke up.

And my world came crashing down.

I stretched, reaching for my phone to check the time. Paige and KK had left for their pre-game lunch, but that wasn’t my concern right now. No, my immediate mission was to retrieve my Tru Fru and binge some trashy reality TV before heading to their game.

I padded over to my mini fridge, humming to myself as I pulled the door open—

Nothing.

I blinked. Shut the fridge. Opened it again.

Still nothing.

My gaze snapped to the snack drawer. I yanked it open.

Empty.

Oh. Hell. No.

By the time Paige and KK got back, I was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, fuming.

Paige walked in first, grinning. “Hey, babe, you ready to—”

“Paige. Madison. Bueckers.”

The way her smile instantly dropped? Satisfying.

KK, the second culprit, peeked over Paige’s shoulder, immediately sensing the tension. “Uh… what’s going on?”

I stood up slowly, tilting my head. “Where. Is. My. Tru Fru?”

Paige and KK exchanged a look. Paige tried a smile, rubbing the back of her neck. “Okay, so—”

“You ate them, didn’t you?”

Paige winced. “Not all of them…”

KK, not reading the room at all, shrugged. “To be fair, they were really good.”

I turned my glare to her. “Oh, to be fair? You raided my stash while I was asleep.”

Paige took a step closer, hands raised in surrender. “Babe, ma, I didn’t think you’d be that mad—”

I held up a finger. “Don’t. ‘Babe’ or 'ma' me. You and your little accomplice are dead to me.”

KK’s eyes widened. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not get crazy—”

I looked Paige directly in the eyes. “I hope Kayla braids your hair extra tight today.”

Paige gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.” I pulled out my phone and texted Kayla right in front of them. Make Paige’s braids extra tight today. She wronged me.

Kayla’s response was almost immediate. Bet.

Paige groaned, running a hand down her face. KK was already halfway out the door. “I want no part in this anymore.”

I folded my arms. “Too late. Kamorea you’re both paying me back in full after the game.”

Paige sighed, stepping closer again. “Baby, please—”

I turned away dramatically. “Don’t ‘baby’ me, Madison.”

Paige let out a loud groan. “You’re really mad.”

“No duh.”

True to my word, I ignored Paige all through pre-game.

I sat courtside, arms crossed, eyes on the court but refusing to acknowledge her existence. Even when she made a huge three-pointer, I only clapped politely.

KK, from across the bench, was dying. She kept elbowing Paige, whispering, “She’s really not looking at you, bro.”

Even Azzi noticed, leaning in to ask, “What did you do, Paige?”

Paige just groaned. “Ate her Tru Fru.”

Azzi stared at her like she had lost her mind. “You deserve this.”

After UConn won, Paige and KK were still on thin ice.

As soon as they found me outside the locker room, Paige wrapped her arms around me, resting her forehead against mine. “You have to forgive me now. We won, and i think Kay pushed my hair line back more than it's already goin.”

I kept my arms at my sides. “Oh, so you win and suddenly I’m supposed to forget about my suffering?”

KK threw her hands up. “Okay, fine! We’ll go get more Tru Fru! Just—please stop torturing us.”

I eyed them both. “…You promise?”

Paige nodded. “Whatever you want, baby. Just stop calling me Madison.”

I huffed. “Fine. But I’m coming with you to supervise.”

Half an hour later, we were back at my apartment, my snack stash restored.

Paige, now finally allowed back into my good graces, sat on the couch, pulling me into her lap. “So we’re good now?”

I hummed, pretending to think. “Almost.”

She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “How about now?”

I sighed dramatically. “I guess I can forgive you.”

KK groaned from across the room. “Thank God.”

I turned to Paige. “Say it.”

She blinked. “Say what?”

I smirked. “Say I was right.”

Paige groaned, but the small smile on her face betrayed her. “You were right.”

I beamed. “Thank you. Now we’re good.”

Paige chuckled, tucking me closer. “Ma, you’re so lucky I love you.”

I smirked. “No, you’re lucky, I put up with your goofy shit.”

She kissed my forehead, smiling against my skin. “Yeah, I really am, now please help a girl out. My head hurts.”

I rolled my eyes and gently ran my fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp. "So ladies what have we learned." I say looking at both girls.

"Don't touch your Tru Fru." They day in unison with a pout in their face, before kk adds "at least without asking, first."

I rolled my eyes "Yeah at least without asking first."

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[rottenfyre]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 2

Summary: after your last session with Aegon, you always feel him behind your back, when you were at home you could feel him here. And when your next session come, everything just got worse...

Warning: dead animals, just a little sex scene, minors DNI.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language and I wrote this at 2 AM alone in the home. So I'm sorry if it's not good, I was scared and I couldn't think. Hope you enjoy!

PART 1, PART 3, PART 4

That night, sleep came slowly to Y/N. The room felt colder than usual, the darkness pressing in from all sides. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind against the window sent her heart racing. She pulled the blankets tighter around her, trying to convince herself that Aegon’s words had just been that—a mind game, an attempt to unsettle her. But the weight of his gaze from earlier lingered like a ghost in the room.

He didn’t actually watch me, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. He was just trying to freak me out, trying to get into my head. That’s what he does.

But as soon as she closed her eyes, she imagined him standing outside her window, staring in at her with that unsettling intensity. She quickly opened them again, staring at the window across from her bed. The curtains fluttered slightly in the breeze, and for a moment, her mind played tricks on her, imagining a shadow behind them.

There’s no one there, she repeated to herself. He’s not here. He can’t be here.

She forced herself to roll over, turning her back to the window. But that only made her feel more vulnerable. What if he was watching her now, right behind her? She cursed under her breath, her skin prickling with the sense of being observed.

He’s not here. You’re safe. He just wanted to mess with you. That’s all.

But the thought looped in her head, becoming harder to shake. Every sound in the house became magnified—the creak of the pipes, the hum of the fridge, the rustle of leaves outside. Everything felt threatening. She tried focusing on her breathing, counting each inhale and exhale, forcing her mind to calm.

You’re a professional, she reminded herself, staring at the faint light coming through the crack in the curtains. You’ve dealt with difficult clients before. He’s no different.

But deep down, she knew Aegon was different. He was more than difficult—he was dangerous, unpredictable. The way he looked at her, the way he spoke about that dove, about watching her through the window... it was unsettling in a way that no other client had ever been. And that was what made it so hard to shake.

Hours passed before she finally drifted into a restless sleep, her mind plagued by half-formed dreams of shadows and cold eyes staring through the night.

The next morning, she walked to her office with a persistent unease in her chest. The street felt too quiet, and she found herself glancing over her shoulder every few steps, expecting to see Aegon trailing behind her. But there was no one. Just the usual early morning foot traffic—people heading to work, students with their heads buried in their phones.

He’s not here, she told herself again, quickening her pace. He’s not following you. You’re just being paranoid.

But every time she turned a corner, her heart leapt into her throat, expecting to catch a glimpse of his familiar figure. She tried to shake off the paranoia, but it clung to her like a second skin.

When she finally reached her office building, she sighed in relief, stepping quickly inside. The familiar scent of the lobby, the hum of the elevator, the bright, sterile lighting—everything felt like a small refuge from the gnawing anxiety that had been following her all morning.

But the moment she stepped into her office and closed the door, the unease returned. Her eyes immediately darted to the window, checking for any sign of movement outside. There was nothing—just the trees swaying gently in the breeze, the distant sound of traffic.

He’s not watching you, she reminded herself for what felt like the hundredth time. He’s just trying to scare you, and it’s working. Don’t let him get to you.

But even as she tried to focus on her work, her mind kept wandering back to Aegon. His strange, possessive words about the dove. The way he described wanting to clip its wings, to keep it trapped and close. It echoed in her head, too close to how he might feel about her. She shuddered at the thought, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for her coffee.

Later, as the day turned to evening and she walked home, the unease intensified. The shadows stretched longer, darker, and with every step, she felt like someone was just a few paces behind her. She forced herself to keep walking, telling herself not to look back.

He’s not there, she repeated, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. It’s just your imagination. He’s not following you.

But the urge to turn around became too much. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, her breath catching in her throat.

No one. The street behind her was empty, save for a few distant cars and pedestrians.

Her heart raced as she turned back, walking faster now, nearly breaking into a jog. She couldn’t shake the feeling, no matter how hard she tried. The shadows felt alive, watching her, waiting for her to let her guard down. And it was getting harder and harder to convince herself that it was just paranoia.

When she finally reached her apartment, she slammed the door shut behind her, locking it quickly. Her hands were shaking as she leaned against the door, trying to calm her breathing.

It’s over. You’re home. He’s not here. You’re safe.

But even as she said the words, she didn’t fully believe them. Every creak of the apartment, every shadow cast by the dim evening light seemed to take on a new, more sinister meaning. She jumped at the slightest movement, her nerves frayed beyond reason.

As she sat down on the couch, she glanced at the window, half-expecting to see Aegon’s face staring back at her from the street below. But it was empty, just the soft glow of streetlights outside.

He’s not watching you, she repeated to herself, her voice barely a whisper. He’s not watching you.

But the creeping feeling of being observed refused to leave, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, somehow, Aegon was watching—waiting for the right moment to make his next move.

A week had passed since their last session, but it felt like months to Y/N. Every day, her unease grew, festering like a wound that refused to heal. The feeling of being watched never fully left her; shadows felt longer, eyes sharper. No matter how much she told herself it was just in her head, there was always a faint whisper of doubt in the back of her mind.

Now, sitting in her office once again, facing the man who had been haunting her thoughts, she forced herself to breathe. Aegon was different today. His usual agitation, the relentless tapping of his leg and biting of his nails, was absent. Instead, he sat eerily still, his eyes fixed on the wall to her left, as if he was watching something that she couldn’t see. His lips moved faintly, a soft, tuneless whisper escaping them. She strained her ears to catch it but could only make out fragments of sound—a hum, almost like a lullaby.

The silence in the room felt thick, oppressive, and she had to fight the urge to shift in her seat, to break the suffocating quiet.

I have to ask, she told herself, steeling her nerves. You have to confront him about last week. You can’t let him think he can do whatever he wants.

She took a deep breath and spoke, trying to keep her voice calm, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. "Aegon, last time we spoke, you mentioned something… odd. You said I looked good last night… in my pajamas." Her voice faltered slightly at the memory, but she forced herself to continue. "I need to ask, what did you mean by that?"

Aegon didn’t respond. He didn’t even seem to hear her. His eyes remained glued to the wall, his lips still moving faintly, whispering that strange song to himself. His hands rested on his knees, the skin pale and bruised, nails ragged from relentless chewing.

"Aegon?" she pressed, her voice tightening as her nerves frayed. "What did you mean?"

He stopped humming, but his gaze remained unfocused, distant, as if he were somewhere far away. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. "Sunfyre died this week."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Your… your cat?"

Aegon nodded slowly, still staring at the wall. "He was my only friend. The only one who understood." His voice was monotone, lifeless, as though the words were being dragged out of him.

"I’m… I’m sorry to hear that," Y/N said cautiously, watching his expression for any sign of reaction. But there was nothing. His face remained blank, his eyes never leaving the invisible point on the wall.

"He was beautiful," Aegon continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Golden fur. Like the sun. That’s why I called him Sunfyre. He was always warm. Always there."

Y/N swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. There was something deeply unsettling about the way Aegon spoke—as if he was detached from the world around him, floating somewhere she couldn’t reach.

"And now," he murmured, his voice taking on a strange, almost dreamy quality, "he’s gone. And there’s just… noises." He finally blinked, but his gaze remained distant, as if the room had become too small for him. "The noises never stop."

"What… what noises?" Y/N asked cautiously, her fingers gripping the armrests of her chair, trying to steady herself. Something in the pit of her stomach twisted.

"Them," Aegon replied vaguely, tilting his head slightly as if listening for something. "The whispers. The sounds in the walls. They’re everywhere now, you know? After Sunfyre… they got louder. He used to keep them away, but now there’s nothing. Just them. Always talking. Always laughing." His face twitched for the briefest moment, as if suppressing a shiver.

Y/N’s heart started to race again, an icy chill creeping down her spine. "Aegon… have you… have you spoken to anyone about these noises? Has this been happening for a long time?"

"They’ve always been there," he said in the same flat, detached voice. "But it’s worse now. It’s like they’re closer. Watching me all the time. Telling me things." His eyes, still glued to the wall, seemed to glaze over. "I try not to listen, but sometimes… sometimes they make sense."

Her throat felt dry, but she forced herself to ask, "What do they tell you?"

Aegon’s lips curled into a slow, unsettling smile. It was the first time he’d smiled since he entered the room, and it was chilling. "They tell me the truth. About everything. About you."

Her blood ran cold at his words, her mind racing as she tried to keep her expression neutral. "What… what do you mean, Aegon?"

"They tell me how beautiful you are," he whispered, his eyes still locked on that invisible point on the wall. "How you care about me. How you don’t want me to leave. They tell me how you wear that soft panty to bed. The one with the little flowers on it."

Her heart stopped. How does he know? How?

She felt light-headed, her vision blurring at the edges as panic surged through her veins. "Aegon… how do you know what I wear?"

He didn’t answer. Instead, he tilted his head again, listening, as though someone was whispering in his ear. Then, with an eerie calmness, he said, "The voices see everything."

Y/N’s hands trembled as she gripped the chair tighter. "Aegon, I need you to focus. What do you mean the voices see everything?"

"They watch. They’re always watching," he replied, finally turning his head to face her, his gaze locking onto hers. His eyes were wide, unblinking, and filled with a strange, manic intensity that made her heart lurch in fear. "Just like I do. Just like I watch."

The room suddenly felt much smaller, the walls closing in around her. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to run, to leave, but her legs felt frozen in place.

"Sunfyre used to keep them away," Aegon continued, his voice a low murmur now. "But he’s gone. Now there’s just me. And you."

She couldn’t speak. Her chest tightened, her thoughts a jumble of fear and confusion. She had to end the session. She had to get out.

But before she could move, the clock on the wall chimed, signaling the end of their time.

Aegon stood up slowly, still smiling, his eyes never leaving her. "I’ll see you next week," he said softly, his voice dripping with a sickening sweetness.

And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving Y/N sitting in her chair, frozen in place, the echoes of his words reverberating in her mind.

The voices see everything.

The second Aegon left her office, she felt the walls pressing in, the whispers of doubt clawing at her. She packed up quickly, her hands trembling as she stuffed her notebook into her bag and threw on her coat. All she wanted—needed—was to get out.

By the time she reached her apartment, her fingers shook as she fumbled with her keys, her heart still hammering in her chest. As soon as she was inside, she slammed the door shut and bolted it, leaning her back against the wood as she tried to steady her breathing.

It’s just in your head, she told herself, her voice shaky and uncertain. He’s just a patient. He’s just trying to get under your skin. He’s not watching you… he’s not.

But the fear lingered. His words replayed in her mind, twisting around her thoughts like a poison.

With trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and dialed the number she knew by heart. It only took two rings before she heard the familiar voice on the other end.

“Hey, babe,” her boyfriend, Jacob, answered. His tone light and warm. “Everything okay?”

“No…” Y/N’s voice broke as the word slipped out. “Can you come over? Please. I—I need you.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be right there.”

The next twenty minutes felt like an eternity. She paced around her apartment, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on her chest. She kept checking the windows, the corners of the room, every shadow stretching a little too far, every creak of the floorboards making her jump.

When the knock finally came, she practically ran to the door. As soon as she opened it, she fell into his arms, her body trembling with the weight of it all.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Jacob murmured, holding her tightly. His hand gently stroked her hair as he guided her back inside, shutting the door behind them. “I’m here. What happened?”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “It’s… it’s Aegon. My patient. He—he said these things and I don’t know, it’s just… he knows things, things he shouldn’t know.”

Her voice broke as she recounted the details, her words spilling out in a frantic rush. She told him everything—Aegon’s strange behavior, his fixation, the way he talked about her. The voices. The watching.

Jacob listened, his face calm and reassuring as he nodded. “Babe, I think you’re just stressed. This guy… he’s messing with you because he knows it’ll get to you.”

“I don’t know…” she whispered, wiping at her eyes. “It felt so real.”

“I know, I know it did.” He pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. “But you’re letting him get in your head. He’s trying to make you scared, but you can’t let him win, okay?”

She nodded against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. “You’re right. You’re right… it’s just in my head.”

“That’s all it is,” he said softly, his hands running soothingly down her back. “Just some creepy guy trying to push your buttons. But you’re stronger than that. You can handle it.”

His calm, rational voice slowly chipped away at the terror inside her. She breathed deeply, letting herself believe his words, clinging to them like a lifeline. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed that.”

“I’m here,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Always.”

The tension in her chest began to unravel as she melted into his embrace. Slowly, the fear that had gripped her all week loosened its hold. He was right. Aegon was just trying to get under her skin. Nothing more.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on her shoulders. “How about we forget all about this guy, huh? Let’s just relax.”

She nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds good.”

Without another word, he took her hand and led her toward the bathroom. The warm steam from the shower enveloped them as they stepped inside, the water cascading over their skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s tension.

He pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She responded, her hands sliding up his chest, the heat of the water matching the growing warmth between them. His touch was gentle but sure, his hands slowly roaming over her body as he deepened the kiss.

In that moment, the world outside didn’t matter. Not Aegon, not the fear, not the shadows that had haunted her all week. There was only him, the steady reassurance of his presence.

As they moved to the bed, their wet skin still warm from the shower, he kissed her neck, his hands sliding between her legs, slowly caressing her. She gasped softly, her body responding to the comfort and distraction he offered.

He kissed her deeply, and as his hands roamed over her, she closed her eyes, letting herself forget everything. For just a moment, she let herself believe that everything was okay.

The weight of Jacob's arm draped over her gave Y/N a sense of temporary calm, her mind finally lulled into a fragile state of rest after the events of the week. The sheets clung to their bodies, still damp from the shared heat, their limbs intertwined in a way that made her feel, for the first time in days, safe. Protected.

But that safety shattered in an instant.

A loud crash from the other side of the apartment jolted them awake. The sound of breaking glass ripped through the silence like a scream, sharp and sudden. Y/N shot up in bed, her heart pounding so fast it felt like it would burst out of her chest. Her boyfriend sat up beside her, his hand instinctively reaching for her.

"What the hell was that?" he whispered, his voice low, urgent.

"IーI don't know," Y/N stammered, already pulling the blanket around her naked body, her hands trembling as she clutched the fabric tightly. Fear crawled up her spine like a cold hand, squeezing her chest. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

Jacob swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing a nearby lamp as a makeshift weapon. "Stay behind me," he said, his voice grim as he stood, leading the way out of the bedroom.

They crept down the hallway, the air thick with tension, their breaths shallow and uneven. The soft click of the floorboards under their feet was deafening in the oppressive silence that followed the crash. Y/N tightened the blanket around her, the fabric dragging across the floor as she followed behind, her senses on high alert, every shadow on the walls seeming to twist and warp into something sinister.

The moment they stepped into the living room, the metallic tang of blood hit her like a punch to the gut. She froze.

"Oh my God..." her boyfriend whispered, the words barely audible, as his gaze swept over the scene before them.

Doves. Dead doves, strewn across the floor like discarded dolls. Their once-beautiful white feathers were soaked in blood, their delicate wings from their bodies, limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Some of them were headless, their necks bent at grotesque angles, the floor slick with their blood. Their wings were now broken, shredded, discarded in small, crumpled heaps.

The smell was overwhelming, suffocating. The stench of death and blood filled the air, thick and coppery, clinging to their skin like a second layer. Y/N gagged, one hand flying to her mouth as bile rose in her throat. Her eyes were wide with horror as she stared at the carnage before her.

It wasn't just the doves.

The walls were splattered with blood- thick, dark red streaks of it, smeared in long, jagged lines. Words. Horrible, terrifying words written in the blood of the doves.

"MINE"

"LEAVE"

"ALWAYS WATCHING"

The writing was erratic, desperate, the letters dripping down the walls like some kind of twisted arning. The word “MINE" was repeated over and over again, sometimes scrawled so large it stretched from floor to ceiling, other times tiny, scratched into the plaster as if done by someone who had lost control.

The words clawed at her brain, a primal panic bubbling up from the depths of her mind. They weren't just words-they were a threat, a message, twisted and dark, filled with rage. Her chest tightened, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her eyes scanned the room, wild and terrified.

"What the fuck.." her boyfriend whispered, his voice trembling now, his grip tightening around the lamp. "What the fuck is this?"

Y/N's legs were shaking, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her as she stumbled backward. Her eyes darted to the window, and that's when she saw him.

A figure in the shadows, standing just outside the glass, watching her.

Aegon.

His pale, hollow face was half-hidden by the darkness, but his eyes一those wild, burning eyes一were locked onto hers, unblinking. There was something feral in the way he stood, the way his lips twisted into a sickening smile as he stared at her, his head tilted at a strange, unnatural angle, like a predator stalking its prey.

She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Her throat was dry, her voice stolen by the sheer terror of the moment. Her body felt frozen, paralyzed, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Her boyfriend's voice cut through the fog of her panic. "What is it? What do you see?"

She tore her eyes away from the window, grabbing his arm with trembling hands. "He's here" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "He's outside... it's him..."

Her boyfriend whipped his head toward the window, but by the time he looked, Aegon was gone. The shadowy figure had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving nothing but the echo of his presence behind.

"I don't see anything," he said, his voice laced with confusion andfear. “There's no one there."

"No-no, I saw him!" Y/N insisted, her voice rising with hysteria. "He was there! I swear to God, he was right there, watching us!"

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as she trembled violently. "It's okay, it's okay. We'll call the cops. Someone broke in, this... this is some fucked-up shit, but we'll figure it out. He's not here anymore."

She nodded weakly, her mind spinning with confusion and terror. Her eyes kept darting back to the window, expecting to see those cold, unblinking eyes staring back at her. But the space was empty now, just an expanse of darkness and the dull glow of streetlights outside.

Jacob pulled out his phone and dialed the police, his voice low and urgent as he explained the situation. Y/N barely heard him, her thoughts swirling in a chaotic whirlwind of fear and disbelief.

The words on the walls seemed to pulse in the corner of her vision, the blood dripping down in slow, thick rivulets: MINE. LEAVE.

Her stomach twisted into knots, her entire body shaking as she collapsed into the nearest chair, her legs giving out beneath her. The doves lay scattered around her feet, their lifeless eyes staring up at her, empty and soulless.

She couldn't escape it.

No matter how hard she tried to convince herself it wasn't real, that Aegon wasn't capable of such madness, the truth was there-painted in blood across her walls.

This wasn't just in her head. This was real. Too real.

“There’s not much we can do without evidence,” one of the officers had said, his voice neutral but with an edge of doubt. “But we can check on him, just to ease your mind.”

And so, at 3 AM, Y/N, Jacob, and the two officers found themselves standing outside the grand Targaryen estate. The imposing house loomed before them, bathed in the glow of the moon, its towering facade as cold and uninviting as the man who lived inside. Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, her skin crawling with unease as they rang the bell.

It didn’t take long for the door to open.

Alicent stood in the doorway, her face pinched with confusion and irritation, her robe wrapped tightly around her. She looked from the officers to Y/N and her boyfriend, then back again. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Officers," Alicent greeted politely, though her voice held an edge of irritation. "May I help you?"

Y/N’s voice shook as she stepped forward. “It’s Aegon. He’s been stalking me—he came to my apartment tonight. He left… dead birds everywhere, and he wrote on the walls with blood. He’s been following me. Watching me.”

“I’m sorry, but what is this about?” Alicent’s eyes flicked between Y/N, her boyfriend, and the officers. “This must be a misunderstanding.”

“No, it’s not a misunderstanding!” Y/N yelled, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. “He broke into my apartment. There were doves—dead doves—and blood… He’s been following me, watching me! He’s dangerous!”

Her boyfriend squeezed her hand gently, trying to pull her back, but she yanked away, pointing toward the door. “You have to believe me! Aegon is sick—he needs to be locked up! He’s not right in the head!”

Alicent’s face hardened. “That’s impossible. Aegon’s been here all night.”

The officers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to proceed.

Alicent’s eyes flicked to the officers, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “My son would never do something like that. He’s not… unwell. He’s just dealing with some personal things.”

Y/N’s heart hammered against her ribcage as rage and fear bubbled inside her, her voice rising as she lost control. “He’s a fucking psycho, and he’s trying to ruin my life! He’s stalking me, and you’re just covering for him!”

“Ma’am,” one of the officers cut in, stepping forward to intervene, “let’s all remain calm. We’re here to investigate, but we need to speak to Aegon himself.”

At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed down the grand staircase.

Aegon appeared, descending slowly, rubbing his eyes as though he had just woken from a peaceful slumber. He wore a loose-fitting T-shirt and pajama pants, his blonde hair mussed, his expression calm, and his movements casual, almost lazy. He looked nothing like the manic, disturbed man Y/N had seen just hours before.

“Is everything alright?” Aegon asked, his voice quiet, soft, laced with concern. His eyes scanned the group, lingering on Y/N for a moment before turning to the officers. “What’s going on?”

Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. How could he look so normal? She knew what he was—she had seen him, heard his madness—but now, he was playing the part of the innocent. She could feel herself unraveling, her emotions spilling out uncontrollably.

Her blood boiled at the sight of his calm, innocent facade. He wasn’t the same Aegon she had sat across from in therapy—the one who whispered disturbing things and stared at her with dark, empty eyes. This Aegon seemed so harmless, almost apologetic, as if none of the horrors from earlier could be traced back to him.

"Do you know this woman, sir?" one of the officers asked, gesturing to Y/N, who was on the verge of collapsing under the weight of it all.

Aegon blinked slowly, his expression softening into something almost pitiful. “Yes, she's…my therapist," he said, his voice low and even, a hint of sadness laced into his words. "But…I'm not really sure why she’s here.”

One of the officers stepped forward. “Sir, we’re here following a report. This woman has made some serious claims about your involvement in an incident tonight. We just need to ask you a few questions.”

Aegon’s face contorted into an expression of confusion, concern knitting his brow as he blinked at the officers. “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said, his voice even, smooth. “I’ve been here all night. I haven’t left the house.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes going wide. “What? No—no, don’t act like this! You know exactly what you did, Aegon! You’ve been following me! You were in my apartment tonight! I saw you!”

Aegon shook his head slowly, his eyes filled with what looked like genuine confusion. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I was home all night. I would never do something like that.” He turned to the officers. “I’ve been going through a hard time. I recently…broke up with my girlfriend, and I started seeing Y/N to help me deal with the depression. But…I don’t know where all of this is coming from.”

“He’s lying!” Y/N screamed, stepping forward, her whole body shaking with anger. “He’s making it all up! He’s dangerous—he’s not the person you think he is!”

Aegon didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer to the officers, his face calm, composed, but his voice took on a vulnerable tone. “I think… I think maybe she’s upset because I didn’t reciprocate her feelings.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror. “What the fuck are you talking about? That’s not true!”

Aegon glanced at the officers, feigning embarrassment. “She…she made some advances during our sessions. I told her that it wasn’t appropriate, but I think she may have misinterpreted our relationship. Maybe she’s just mad that I didn’t…you know, return her feelings.”

Y/N’s world spun. The rage and helplessness surged inside her like a storm, the bile rising in her throat. “That’s a lie! You’re lying! You need to stop lying!” She lunged forward, her hands reaching for Aegon in a desperate attempt to stop him from spinning the truth any further, but her boyfriend grabbed her, pulling her back.

“Stop it, Y/N!” he pleaded, holding her tightly as she fought to break free. “Just stop!”

Aegon’s face twisted into something almost sad. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin her reputation, but…I’m worried about her. I think she’s struggling with some personal issues, and that’s why she’s saying all of this.”

The officers looked back at Y/N, their expressions unreadable, but she could feel their judgment. It was like a weight pressing down on her chest, suffocating her. They didn’t believe her. No one believed her.

“You’re fucking sick!” Y/N screamed, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. “You should be in a mental hospital! You—” She was hysterical now, her words a broken mess of sobs and fury. “You did this! You—”

“Ma’am, we need you to calm down,” one of the officers said sternly, stepping between her and Aegon. “We’ll handle this, but we need you to calm down.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Y/N cried, her voice raw and desperate. “He’s dangerous! He’s going to hurt me! He’s—”

But no one was listening. Not her boyfriend, not the police, and certainly not Alicent, who stood behind her son, a look of quiet satisfaction on her face as she watched the scene unfold.

Aegon rubbed his eyes again, stifling a yawn as if all of this was just an inconvenience, just a bad dream he would soon wake from. “I just want to go back to bed,” he said softly, looking at the officers with pleading eyes. “I promise I’m not who she says I am. I just…I just want to move on.”

The officers nodded, exchanging a glance before turning back to Y/N.

“I think it’s best if we leave now, ma’am,” one of them said gently, but firmly. “We’ll follow up on this, but…for now, you should go home and try to get some rest.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She had lost. She had been defeated by his lies, by his calm demeanor, by the illusion of normalcy he had created.

Her boyfriend wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back toward the door. Her legs felt like lead, her body drained of all strength, her mind clouded with fear. But as they stepped outside, she turned back for one last look at Aegon.

And that’s when she saw it.

His eyes were wide now, bright and burning with a terrifying intensity. He stared at her, unblinking, a slow, twisted smile creeping onto his lips. And then, with a single finger pressed against his lips, he made a silent gesture.

Shhh...

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[thelastofmel]

It’s worth it…

(Jesse x f!reader)

Word count: 2343

Summary: Jesse sneaks around with his boss’s daughter.

Warnings: No warnings really; just fluff, kissing, sneaking around, sweaty!jesse, daddy!joel

A/N: Sorry this is short, I’m currently sick and I don’t know if there are any errors! Thank you for requesting it 🫶🏼 gif set

You followed the sound the power drill, it was the perfect indicator of where your father was. You bounced down the old creaky steps, hand gliding down the railing until you reached the bottom.

"Hello?" You called out as you wandered through the empty rooms. The drilling stopped and instead was replaced with the sound of wood smacking against the ground.

You stopped short at the fridge, grabbing two beers and moving toward the back door. The sticky summer air hit your face the second the door was opened, immediately making you wish you had stayed in the air conditioning.

He was stood a couple feet down on the grass, over a makeshift table, measuring it and then marking it with the pencil he always seemed to keep behind his ear.

He planned on extending the deck, you tried to talk him out of him, being that it was the dead of summer and too hot for him to be working out in the sun all day but, here he was.

"Whatcha doing?" You asked coming off the existing deck and walking across the plush grass toward him.

"Hey baby, figured I'd get a head start on the extension," he raised his head from his task and smiled, seeing that you came bearing drinks, "Thanks darlin' I was just about to grab one"

"Great minds think alike" You smiled, coming to stand beside him and handing him the beer. He cracked it open easily, taking a long sip.

You cracked the lid of the other beer in your hand ready to drink it just as you heard someone come through the back gate.

"Hey Jesse," Your dad called over, throwing his arm over your shoulder and kissing the top of your head, "Y/N grabbed us beer, why don't you take a break?"

You watched Jesse nod, dropping the wood near the side of the deck. His dark shirt was clinging to his biceps and when he turned to head over toward the table you noticed he has saw dust on his shirt.

"I didn't know Jesse was working today" You mumbled, glancing at the tools on the table in front of you.

"He wasn't. I gave him a call this morning to help me with the extension of the deck here, just got back from the lumber yard for me"

Interesting.

"Did they give ya any trouble?"

Jesse dug into his back pocket, fishing out a credit card and receipt before handing it to Joel. "No sir," he nodded your way when you held the beer out to him. He took it, squinting at you through the sun. "Hey, y/n"

"Jesse" You had to bite the inside of your cheek and look down at the grass. You had a hard time ignoring how good he looked with sweat glistening off his skin.

You wiggled out from under Joels arm, standing between them and feeling the hot sun heating your exposed shoulders while Joel explained his plans for the deck, moving his hands in the air.

"Sounds like a lot of work" You said, patting your dad on the back when he finished, "But I think it'll look great"

"Oh it'll just take the weekend, Jesse and I will tackle the job like we always do" He took a long sip from his beer before turning his attention to Jesse, "Right Jess?"

Oh right, Jesse was still standing there. You hadn't know because you refused to look at him, even when you felt his stare bore into the side of your head.

When you did finally look over to him again you saw him nodding, sipping on his beer and wiping the sweat from his forehead, not his usual talkative self.

"Oh–uh that reminds me, the lightbulb in my room blew" You moved your toes into the soft grass under you, "Think you have time to change it for me?"

"I'll do it" Jesse blurted out, a little too quickly and you rolled your eyes. "I mean, I can do that–if that's okay with you sir, it'll just take me a couple minutes"

Joel looked between the two of you before sitting his beer down on the table and taking his pencil from his ear again, "Yeah, that's fine, you know where I keep the bulbs?"

"Dad," You laughed, now walking backwards towards the house with Jesse in tow, "He practically lives here, of course he knows where you keep everything"

"Yeah, just make it quick Jesse. I wanna get this started soon"

"Yes sir" Jesse repeated, following you up the deck steps and through the back door.

"Yes sir" You mocked, once both of you were fully inside. He stopped short at the cabinet beside the kitchen and grabbed a bulb while you made your way to the stairs.

He was behind you on the stairs now, reaching out and pinching the back of your thigh that was exposed from your shorts. You squealed as he laughed, smacking his hand away and running up the stairs.

When you got into your room you immediately went to the window where the sun was shining through, seeing Joel down below—a perfect view to keep an eye on him.

"We have 5—maybe 10 minutes" Jesse said sitting the lightbulb down on your dresser. He knew it never needed changed.

You moved to where he was standing and shut the door behind him, pushing him up against it and kissing him hard.

He kissed you back moving his hands to your face, holding it in place to he could kiss you better, but just as his tongue grazed yours, you were pulling back.

"Why didn't you tell me you were helping my dad today?" You kept your hands on his chest, moving your head back further when he tried to kiss you again. "It's supposed to be your day off—we had plans"

By plans you meant telling your dad you'd be going to your friends house but actually meeting Jesse at the end of the street and driving to the next town over for a date.

"I know" He sighed, moving your hair back and kissing your neck, when he spoke again his voice was muffled, "But you know how your dad is–"

You nodded, eyes fluttering close at his mouth on you, "You do know you can tell him 'no' from time to time, it'd probably do him some good"

Jesse hummed against your skin, remembering what you'd told him about leaving hickies where Joel would see them, before pulling back completely, "He'd ask why and you know I'm not a good liar. We both know he won't like what my actual plans are"

"Well you could've told me" You pouted, moving your arms around his neck as he looked down at you.

You were mad at Jesse. But you were more mad at your dad–even though he didn't know he was interfering with your love life.

If he actually knew that you’d been hooking up with his employee after years of said employee hanging around his family and house, he may have an aneurysm. It's not like it was illegal, you were both 18 and he trusted Jesse but he would never allow him to be sleeping with his only daughter. You were sure it would jeopardize Jesse's position on Joel and Tommy's construction crew. It wasn't worth the risk.

Although you couldn't be too mad, you knew Jesse was a people pleaser, especially when it came to your dad— constantly getting roped into random home improvement projects when they weren't working an actual site.

"I knew you'd be mad" He admitted, moving his thumb across your cheek, "I'm sorry"

"You're lucky you look good when you’re all sweaty like this" You rolled your eyes, leaning up and kissing him again.

He immediately melted into you, this time grabbing at the back of your thighs and picking you up effortlessly. All the years being the construction crews pack mule paid off when it came to his muscles and endurance. He moved away from the door as you wrapped your legs around him, hands finding his hair.

He took a couple of steps before laying you gently on your bed, lips never leaving yours as he moved his body down on top of you.

You were lost in him, you always were. The two of you didn't get too much time together, usually having to sneak around and lie but it was worth it for moments like this.

You smiled against his mouth as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged carefully. Your hands moved up his biceps, feeling his muscles flex as he supported himself above you.

You tapped his arm, breaking the kiss in a lusty haze, "Where's he at?"

Jesse groaned, moving to his knees and leaning over to the window. He looked for a second before coming back down and crashing his lips into yours, meaning you were still in the clear.

You moved your hand down his stomach until you came into contact with the waist band of his jeans. You smirked against his lips, beginning to play with the zipper when his hand caught yours, moving it away, "We can't start something we can't finish. He's right down there—"

You groaned, purposely bucking your hips against him as you moved on the mattress. "Well you took away my Jesse time today, I'm just trying to make up for it"

He sighed as he moved down your torso and lifted your tank top to expose your sun kissed stomach, a place he learned he could leave all the hickies he wanted and never get caught. He pressed sloppy, wet kisses as he spoke, "Maybe we should just come clean"

"You know that's not an option" You whined, watching as he came back up to your chest, resting his chin there and looking at you, "He might actually kill you"

"If it means I get to love you out in the open then it's worth it"

"Dude, you are so corny" You groaned throwing your head back to look at the ceiling but you weren't able to hide the blush that crept onto your cheeks. "How about you go down there and tell him you're going home? Then we can still go out and you know–"

You had moved your hand back towards his crotch. But he stopped you again, catching it and bringing it up to his mouth as he playfully bit at your fingers. 

"I already committed to helping him" He sighed, kissing your palm before dropping your hand, "Unfortunately, I'm a man of my word"

"You disappoint me" You chuckled, moving the same hand back to his hair, lacing it into his black locks and pushing them back off his forehead.

"I'm sorry baby" He whispered, moving slightly so he wasn’t crushing you with his weight. You could've combusted right then and there.

His lips found yours, gently pressing against your mouth with a sweetness that seemed almost tentative. His drew you impossibly closer. The kiss deep and slow, his tongue moving against yours in a dance of desire.

He moved his hand under your shirt, cupping your breast, every touch left a trail of fire in its wake. You felt him moan against your mouth, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. That is until the sound of the creaky stair steps floated through the air and under the crack of your door.

"Fuck" You whisper, pushing Jesse off you and sitting up on the bed just as the door knob turned and your dad was walking in.

"How long does it take to change a damn lightbulb—"

The silence in the room was thick and you could hear the heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"Hi daddy" You squeaked as he took in the scene. Your top was lifted, exposing the bottom of your stomach and Jesse was sitting on the edge of your bed with his hair sticking up. Both of your lips were swollen in an unmistakable way.

"Did you change the bulb?" He asked Jesse, impatiently, moving his hands to his hips.

"Uh–yes sir I did"

Joel reached over and flipped the switch, of course, the never broken light switch turned right on. He looked around the room slowly before looking back at the two of you.

"Alright, well let's get back to work then"

Jesse nodded, stealing a look at you before moving from the bed. Just as he came to the doorframe, Joel reached out and stopped him, planting a rough hand on his shoulder.

No, no, no.

"Word to the wise—if you plan on seeing my daughter, you need to ask for permission"

From the bed your whole body tensed up, praying that your dad didn't hurt him. You were 18, he couldn't control who you dated but you were too worried for Jesse's safety to argue, "Dad, what are you talking about?"

"You think I don't know all the sneaking around you do?" He wasn't mad, at least from what you could tell. "Why do you think I've been keeping him busy?"

"Well," Jesse cleared his throat nervously wiping his hands against his pants, "Sir, can I date your daughter"

"No" Joel answered immediately, amused.

"Dad" You groaned, throwing a pillow at him. The fact that he hadn't already thrown Jesse into a wall was a good sign.

"Finish the deck and I'll think about it" Joel said, again amused at the look on your face as he slapped Jesse hard in the back.

"Yes sir" He smiled, feeling confident as Joel nearly pushed him out of the room. You heard the steps creaking as Jesse walked down the stairs.

Before your dad shut the door he peeked his head back in at you, where you were still on the bed, "For the record, the answer is yes—he's a good guy— but I want my deck finished first"

You laughed and smiled big at him, taking your pillow in your lap, giddy at the idea of no longer having to hide your feelings for your dad's employee.

[swizzlemynizzle]

Hello! I loved your george series so much!

Could I request a fluffy willne fic? Maybe a friend's to lovers or maybe an influencer trip and there's only one bed, that sort of thing, just really cute/cringe type of sweet 🫠🤗

Thankyou!!

-🦆

I kind of got sidetracked writing this and I’m not entirely sure it matches the request 😂 I hope you like it anyway!

Masterlist

One Bed, Two Idiots - Willne

The birds are chirping like they’ve got a vendetta. Some manic little dawn chorus ensemble that’s definitely out to ruin Y/N’s morning on purpose.

“You’ve got to be actually fucking kidding me!” she snaps, flinging another hoodie across the room like it personally offended her.

“Woah, babe, just breathe,” Sabina soothes on speaker, voice all honey and calm from the other end of the line. “It’s got to be somewhere.”

“Not helpful right now, Sab!” Y/N practically growls, yanking open a drawer she already checked twice.

The suitcase hits the floor with a dramatic thud as she empties it entirely, folded clothes unraveling like they’re mocking her too.

“I’m going to miss the flight,” she whispers, voice wobbling as tears start to burn behind her eyes.

Sabina pauses. “Okay, okay, keep looking—I’m calling Will. He’s on the later flight anyway, yeah? If worst comes to worst, you go with him.”

Y/N doesn't even respond before the line goes dead. She drops to her knees, the carpet beneath her soft and unhelpful, and presses her palms to her face. Her passport. Gone. Just... vanished. She’d had it two days ago, she swears. She’d even triple-checked, proud of herself for being prepared for once in her chaotic little life.

A shuffle down the hallway pulls her from the spiral.

“Heyo?” Will’s voice floats in, cheerful and warm and entirely too sunny for someone who's just turned into a human hurricane.

He steps into her doorway, backpack slung over one shoulder and hair still wet from the shower, that usual mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’m here to save the day.”

“You’re disgustingly chipper,” she mutters, glaring at him from the floor. “I’ve been up since five losing my entire identity.”

He snorts. “Alright, dramatic. It’s just your passport.”

She lifts her tear-bright eyes to him, exasperated. “I literally can’t get on a plane without it, Will.”

That softens him. His face shifts, the joking drops just a bit. “Hey. It’s okay. We’ve still got time. Let me help, yeah?”

And he does. For over an hour, the two of them tear apart every inch of her flat, hunting through shoes and makeup bags and even the fridge (because, as Will says, “You once put your phone in the microwave, nothing’s off the table.”).

Finally, finally—

“Aha!” she yells, emerging from the bathroom like a victorious knight brandishing a tiny burgundy book. “It was in the bloody sink drawer!”

She laughs, the sound light and ridiculous, and Will can’t help laughing too—even if he’s mostly laughing at how her hair’s all over the place and how proud she looks for defeating herself.

“Genuinely can’t decide if I’m impressed or deeply concerned,” he teases, eyes dancing.

“I contain multitudes,” she declares, smug.

In the Uber, she’s bouncing with adrenaline, singing along to the driver’s bizarre 80s Eurodance playlist and doing awkward shoulder shimmies in her seat. Will steals glances at her in the rearview mirror, pretending he’s not completely gone. She’s radiant in the way that only someone who’s just survived a mini breakdown and come out victorious can be. And when she catches him staring, she doesn’t call him out—just smiles, that slow, soft smile she only does when they’re alone.

At the airport, they’re halfway through weaving toward the gate when a crowd of school kids cuts in front of them—an ocean of red jumpers and backpacks the size of small houses. Without even thinking, Will reaches back and grabs her hand, threading their fingers together as he tugs her along behind him.

She freezes for half a second, just long enough to feel his hand, warm and solid and slightly calloused, close around hers.

“Come on,” he says over his shoulder, like he hasn’t just short-circuited her brain.

She follows. She doesn’t let go.

On the plane, he tucks her carry-on above her seat and flops down beside her with a self-satisfied grin.

“So,” he says, stretching his legs out. “Be honest. You were hiding your passport in your bathroom drawer on purpose, weren’t you? Trying to get some alone time with me?”

Y/N scoffs, elbowing him in the side. “Yes, Will. I masterminded an entire emotional meltdown for your company. You got me.”

“Not the worst plan,” he hums, cocky. “I am great on long-haul flights.”

She’s about to fire back something sarcastic when the plane jolts violently, lurching in a way that shuts everyone up at once. Her hand flies to his thigh without thinking, nails digging in slightly.

He grabs her hand. Steady. Warm. A quiet, “You’re alright. Got you,” whispered just for her.

And she believes him.

——————

The emergency landing is announced just an hour into the flight. They land somewhere outside Istanbul just after midnight—an unplanned layover thanks to a mechanical fault that the pilot described as “a precautionary measure” and Will described as “absolutely bloody terrifying” once they were off the plane.

The airline herds the stranded passengers into a nearby hotel. It's got that faded glamour look—dim chandeliers, gold accents that probably haven’t been real gold in decades, and staff that clearly did not expect 200 grumpy tourists tonight. Still, the sheets look clean, and there’s only one room left.

Which, of course, has only one bed.

Y/N stares at the receptionist. “You’re joking.”

The woman gives her a tired smile and a very European shrug. “All other rooms are full. You are lucky to have this one.”

“Lucky,” she mutters, dragging her suitcase toward the lift.

Will, beside her, is too smug. “You did say earlier you masterminded this whole thing just to get alone time with me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. If I was masterminding anything, it’d involve cocktails on a beach and not sharing a pillow with your massive head.”

“I have an average-sized head, actually.”

“The hat you wore last week disagrees.”

The room itself is nice enough—low lighting, a soft duvet, and a balcony with a view of distant city lights flickering through the mist. But the bed is a double. One bed. A single, intimacy-demanding slab of mattress.

Y/N kicks off her shoes and groans, flopping face-first onto it. “I give up. Istanbul wins.”

Will chuckles, heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he returns, she’s lying sideways across the bed, one arm flung dramatically off the side like a Victorian widow.

He grabs the duvet corner and lifts it just enough to slide in next to her. “You alright, melodrama?”

She rolls her head to face him. “I just wanted to be sipping something tropical with one of those little umbrellas in it.”

“You can have a tap water with a toothpick in it. That’s the same thing, right?”

She snorts. “God, I hate how funny you think you are.”

“No, you hate how funny you think I am.”

A beat.

She laughs, quietly. “Okay. Maybe.”

The silence stretches, but it’s a nice one. Their legs brush beneath the covers, bare knees just touching. Neither of them moves away.

“Thanks again,” she murmurs. “For earlier. And, like… all of this.”

He tilts his head to look at her. “I didn’t mind.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “You’re easy to be around. Even when you’re throwing jumpers and crying about birds.”

She gives a sleepy chuckle. “The birds were being dicks.”

“I’m on your side, don’t worry.”

Their eyes meet, and there’s a second—barely anything—where the air shifts. Where it feels like something is very, very close to happening.

Will reaches up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers linger just a moment too long.

“Your hair’s gone all fluffy,” he murmurs, soft and affectionate.

Y/N swallows. “Your fault for running your fingers through it earlier.”

“Could run them through again. For quality control.”

She laughs, cheeks going warm, but she doesn’t look away.

It’s quiet. The kind of quiet that hums with things unspoken.

Eventually, she shifts slightly closer, their faces a breath apart now. “If I kick you in my sleep, it’s nothing personal.”

“I’ll take it as a love tap.”

She grins, small and sleepy. “Shut up, Will.”

“Night, trouble.”

“Night.”

When the sun rises over Istanbul the next morning, it does so on two idiots halfway to the Maldives and even closer to something else entirely.

——————

Requests are open xx