#this felt so refreshing to do after the last one

[charmed-quill]

Burrow Bound// Bill Weasley x Reader Chapter 3

a/n: this is most definetly a slow burn bc what do you mean its 10k words and the main love interest has been mentioned by name once? Okay so i really really promise that the next chapter is actually going to move the plot along im just such a sucker for relationship building. also i got the ides for this chapter based on a pub crawl i did in prague with this random american woman i met that same day, also i get extreamly sappy when I'm drunk lol.

request: @littlegreenteacup

Could you possibly write a longer one shot (or longer if that makes more sense) for Bill Weasley x American reader where the reader is a halfblood witch who works for the natural history museum in muggle London and befriended the twins (who are the same age as her) and Charlie after getting lost looking for a shop in Diagon Alley since she’s only just moved to England. Bill is reeling suddenly being a single father after Fluer leaves and has to leave her with Molly during the day. The reader spends a fair amount of time at the Burrow but she and Bill always seem to just miss each other (much to everyone else’s amusement and frustration) and then one day he walks in to pick up Victoire after work and the reader is either holding her or playing with her or something and it’s love at first sight for him, but he’s a little bit awkward about it all and it’s slightly angsty until the dam breaks and fluff ensues.

word count: 3.5k

Last Chapter

Next Chapter

The letter had arrived on Thursday afternoon, the parchment folded haphazardly and shoved into her mailbox like an afterthought. Y/N frowned as she unfolded it, immediately greeted by the nearly indecipherable scrawl.

“We will pick you up after work and show you the best spots in London. Be not afraid.”

She tilted her head, squinting at the messy handwriting as if it might magically rearrange itself into something legible. It took a full five minutes of deciphering before the message became clear, and even then, it felt more like a command than an invitation. The tone practically oozed Fred and George, and she couldn’t help but grin.

By Friday, her excitement had built to an almost unbearable level. As much as she loved her job, the endless hours of cataloging artifacts and poring over dusty records could be mind-numbing. The thought of an evening with Fred and George, as chaotic as it was likely to be, felt like a breath of fresh air.

When the clock finally struck five, she bolted from her desk, her bag slung over her shoulder as she made her way to the museum’s grand entrance. The cool evening air greeted her as she stepped outside, but it wasn’t nearly as refreshing as the sight that awaited her.

Fred and George were waiting, just as they’d promised, or rather, threatened. George stood near the museum steps, pretending to study the architecture with an air of mock seriousness. Fred leaned casually against a lamppost, his arms crossed and a crooked grin on his face that spelled trouble.

“There she is!” George called, raising both arms like he was greeting a celebrity.

Fred, who had been leaning casually against a lamppost, straightened up and strode toward her with exaggerated pomp. “The woman of the hour! Ready for your initiation into proper London life?”

“Does this initiation involve any hexes?” Y/N asked suspiciously, crossing her arms but unable to suppress a grin.

Fred draped an arm around her shoulders as if they’d been friends for years. “Only if you insult the queen,” he said seriously. “Or refuse to join in our pub crawl.”

George sidled up on her other side, his grin matching Fred’s. “It’s very British, you see. Pints, laughter, and us guiding you through the evening like the stellar role models we are.”

“Role models?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

Fred gasped dramatically. “Y/N, you wound me.”

“But she’s not wrong,” George said, shrugging. “We are notoriously terrible influences.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as they began to walk, the twins on either side of her like an overly enthusiastic escort. “So, what exactly is the plan?” she asked, trying to hide her amusement.

“Simple,” Fred said, holding up a finger like a professor giving a lecture. “Step one: we take you to a pub that has the best chips this side of the Thames.”

“Step two,” George continued, “we dazzle you with our unparalleled charm.”

“Step three: you laugh so hard you cry,” Fred added.

“And step four: you tell everyone back at the museum how much fun you had with your two favorite Brits,” George finished with a wink.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head at their antics. “I think ‘fun’ is one way to describe this.”

They led her through the bustling streets, their constant chatter making the city feel more alive than ever. Every few steps, Fred or George would point out something random

“That’s where a pigeon attacked Fred last year,” or, “Don’t go in there, their pies are cursed, and not in the fun way” keeping her laughing until her cheeks ached.

As they reached the first pub, Fred held the door open with an exaggerated bow, and George ushered her in with a flourish.

“Ladies first,” George said, grinning.

Y/N fanned her face with her hand, batting her eyelashes in a dramatic display. “What gentlemen,” she declared, “who said chivalry was dead?”

Fred and George exchanged a look, their matching smirks spelling trouble.

“Well, we do our best,” Fred said, puffing out his chest. “Someone’s got to uphold the honor of the family.”

“Yeah,” George added, giving her a once-over. “We’ll just pretend we don’t see the dirt on Fred’s shoes.”

Fred kicked at George’s shin, missing entirely as Y/N snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. Together, they ushered her into the pub, which looked nothing like the bars she was used to back home.

The room was dimly lit, with the warm glow of sconces and a roaring fire casting long shadows on the stone walls. The wooden beams overhead sagged slightly, as if they carried the weight of centuries of stories. The smell of ale, roasted meat, and something faintly herbal hung in the air, a far cry from the overly sanitized bars she’d frequented in the States. It was old, ancient, even.

Wherever they were now, she hadn’t even caught the name of the place, it looked like it belonged in a medieval village rather than the bustling city of London. 

The mismatched chairs and uneven tables were packed with patrons, some laughing raucously, others bent over quiet games. 

A smoky jukebox in the corner belted out a peculiar mix of jazz and folk music.

“What do you think?” Fred asked, steering her toward the bar.

Y/N glanced around, wide-eyed. 

“I feel like I’m about to be accused of being a witch,” she said finally, her tone dry.

Fred laughed, clapping her lightly on the shoulder. 

“Oh, don’t worry. If anyone starts yelling, we’ll just point at George and claim it’s all his fault.”

“Oi,” George protested, nudging Fred with his elbow. “I’m clearly the innocent one here.”

“Sure you are,” Y/N said with a grin, sliding onto one of the bar stools.

The bartender, a stout man with a beard that looked as old as the pub itself, approached them. His sharp eyes flicked over the trio, his expression softening as he saw the twins. 

“Weasley trouble tonight?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“Always,” Fred said brightly. “We’re initiating our friend here into the fine tradition of British pubs.”

The bartender nodded knowingly, wiping a glass with a cloth. 

“First time, eh? Better start her off with something light.”

“Or,” George interrupted, leaning conspiratorially toward Y/N, “you could try the Dragon’s Breath.”

Fred’s eyes gleamed. “Ah, yes. Bold choice. It’ll definitely be memorable,.”

Y/N arched a brow, looking between the two of them. 

“Sounds like a trap.”

“It’s not a trap,” Fred said, holding a hand to his chest as if offended. “It’s an experience.”

“Fine,” Y/N said, laughing. “I’ll take the Dragon’s Breath, but if it’s awful, you’re both buying me dessert.”

“Deal,” George said without hesitation, flagging down the bartender.

As they waited for their drinks, Y/N continued to take in the pub’s surroundings. 

“So,” Fred said, pulling her attention back to them, “what’s the verdict so far? Are you utterly dazzled by our superior culture?”

“I’ll admit it,” Y/N said, leaning her elbows on the bar. “This place is pretty great. Though I don’t know if that’s the pub or you two.”

George grinned. “Oh, it’s definitely us.”

The bartender returned with her drink, a frothy amber pint that shimmered faintly. 

Y/N hesitated, lifting the glass to her lips. The first sip was smooth, almost sweet, then the spice hit. Her eyes widened, and she coughed, thumping her chest as a fiery heat spread across her tongue.

Fred and George erupted into laughter, doubling over as she reached for a glass of water. “What—what did you give me?” she choked out, her voice half-scolding, half-amused.

“The Dragon’s Breath,” Fred wheezed. “We didn’t lie!”

“Welcome to Britain,” George added, raising his glass in a mock toast.

Despite herself, Y/N couldn’t stop laughing, even as her mouth burned. 

The more she sipped her drink, the easier it became. The initial fiery burn of the Dragon’s Breath mellowed into a pleasant warmth that spread through her chest. By the time she reached the dregs of her glass, Y/N felt the first flickers of alcohol loosening her limbs and her laughter coming a little easier.

Fred and George jumped to their feet, practically in unison, and Fred tossed a handful of Galleons onto the table with a flourish. “Thank you for the hospitality as always, Aloc,” he announced, giving the bartender a theatrical bow.

“Yes, yes, so many pubs, so little time,” George chimed in, his grin wide as he took Y/N by the arm and steered her toward the door.

“What’s next on the agenda?” Y/N asked, stumbling slightly as they stepped out onto the cobbled streets. The alcohol was definitely working its way through her system now, leaving her pleasantly buzzed and warm.

“You’ll see,” George answered, shooting Fred a conspiratorial grin.

The Lamb & Flag was a narrow, historic pub hidden in the winding alleys of Covent Garden, its timeworn exterior glowing under the warm light of nearby gas lamps. Stepping inside felt like stepping into another era—one of Dickensian London, with its low, dark wooden beams and walls lined with faded paintings and ancient-looking maps. The tables were small and uneven, their surfaces polished to a shine by centuries of use, and the air buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional shout from the bar.

“This place has history,” George said, his voice reverent but his smirk betraying his true intentions as he led Y/N toward a corner booth. “Proper, real history. They say Charles Dickens drank here.”

“Charles Dickens?” Y/N repeated, looking around with wide eyes.

Fred leaned closer as they slid into the booth, his tone low and conspiratorial. “Yep. He wrote A Tale of Two Cities right in that corner.” He pointed to an empty chair by the fireplace, his face the picture of seriousness.

Y/N blinked, her gaze flicking to the chair, before narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Really?”

George grinned. “Nope, but it sounded good, didn’t it?”

She laughed, shaking her head as Fred returned with three ciders. He placed one in front of her with a flourish. “Here you are. The second-best cider in London.”

“Second-best?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow as she took the glass.

Fred winked. “We save the best for last.”

The first sip of cider was crisp and refreshing, a welcome change from the fiery intensity of the Dragon’s Breath. Y/N leaned back in her seat, letting the buzz in her veins settle as the twins launched into another one of their ridiculous stories.

“So there we were,” George began, gesturing dramatically, “testing out one of our new prototypes, Weasley’s Wheezing Whistlebombs. A flawless invention, if I may say so.”

“It wasn’t flawless,” Fred interrupted, smirking. “You set your own hair on fire.”

“Details,” George said, waving a hand dismissively. “Anyway, this Muggle cop shows up, thinks we’re up to no good, which, fair enough, and Fred here decides to tell him we’re part of a street performance act.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Fred said, grinning.

“Only because you juggled three fireworks while quoting Shakespeare!”

Y/N laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink. “Wait—what did the cop do?”

“Oh, he was completely charmed,” George said smugly. “Even asked for tickets to our ‘next performance.’”

Fred raised his glass in a mock toast. “To the Weasley charm. Works every time.”

“To not getting arrested,” Y/N added, clinking her glass with theirs.

The cider went down smoothly, and Y/N found herself settling further into the warmth of the pub and the company of the twins. By the time they left the Lamb & Flag, the streetlights outside had come to life, and the crisp London evening felt charged with the promise of more mischief. Y/N looped her arms through theirs as they led her to the next stop, her laughter echoing down the cobblestone streets.

The George Inn was tucked away in Southwark, its sprawling courtyard glowing under strings of fairy lights. The creaking wooden floors and galleried balconies made it feel like a portal to another century. Y/N tilted her head back, marveling at the place as they stepped inside.

“This is like something out of a fairytale,” she murmured, taking in the lantern-lit beams and packed tables filled with patrons laughing over mugs of ale.

“Fairytale?” Fred scoffed, leading her to the bar. “This is real history. Shakespeare probably downed a pint here.”

“Or twenty,” George added, grinning. “He seemed like a party guy.”

They handed her another drink, this time a lighter ale. “This one’s easier,” Fred assured her, tapping his own glass. “A beginner’s choice.”

It was smoother than the last, but Y/N was feeling the effects now, her balance less sure and her laughter louder. The twins took full advantage, making increasingly ridiculous jokes about the "ghost of Shakespeare" sitting at the next table.

By the time they left, Y/N was leaning heavily on Fred’s arm, her cheeks red from both the alcohol and constant laughter. “I’m not sure if I’m drinking or just inhaling your nonsense,” she said, giggling as George led the way to their next destination.

“Both,” Fred said, grinning. “It’s the Weasley special.”

The Mayflower sat perched along the Thames, its timbered exterior glowing softly under the moonlight. Inside, the pub was dim and atmospheric, with wooden beams overhead and a crackling fireplace in the corner. The walls were adorned with nautical artifacts—old ropes, ship wheels, and faded maps that told stories of seafaring adventures.

“Now this,” Fred said as they stepped in, “is a proper pub. Oldest one along the river. They’ve been serving pints since before America even existed.”

George leaned toward Y/N, his smirk widening. “Feeling patriotic yet?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing as Fred ordered them a round of stout. When the bartender slid a glass her way, she hesitated before taking a cautious sip. The dark, malty brew was rich and intense, and she blinked a few times as the flavor settled. “Wow. This one’s... strong.”

“Strong like us,” George said, flexing his arm dramatically.

“Or our ability to hold our liquor,” Fred added, clinking his glass with hers.

As the stout worked its way through her system, Y/N’s laughter became even freer, her words a little more slurred. She found herself caught up in the cozy atmosphere, watching the flickering firelight dance across the room as the twins bantered back and forth, keeping her in stitches with their antics.

By the time they left the Mayflower, Y/N stumbled slightly as she stepped outside, gripping George’s arm for balance. “You two,” she said, her voice a mix of exasperation and affection, “are going to ruin me.”

Fred grinned, looping an arm around her shoulders. “Ruin you? We’re upgrading you.”

“Cheers to that,” George added, leading the way to their final stop of the night.

The Spaniards Inn, perched on the edge of Hampstead Heath, seemed to glow in the moonlight, its old, crooked exterior oozing charm. Inside, the warmth of a roaring fireplace greeted them, and the scent of mulled cider mingled with the faint smokiness of the wood beams overhead. It was quieter than their earlier stops, with soft murmurs of conversation and the occasional clink of glasses adding to the cozy atmosphere.

Fred led the way to a corner booth, helping Y/N settle into the seat with a dramatic flourish. “Here we are,” he said. “The final chapter of tonight’s adventure.”

George returned moments later, carrying three steaming glasses of mulled cider. “The perfect drink to end the night,” he said, setting one in front of Y/N.

She took a cautious sip, the spicy warmth spreading through her like a comforting hug. “This is amazing,” she murmured, wrapping both hands around the glass as if she could soak up its heat.

“Best in the city,” Fred declared, leaning back in his chair.

As the night wore on, the cider worked its magic, loosening the last of Y/N’s inhibitions. Her laughter came easily, and her cheeks were warm—whether from the fire, the alcohol, or the company, she wasn’t sure. At some point, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she gazed at Fred and George with wide, glassy eyes.

“You know,” she began, her voice a little too loud and her words slurring slightly, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you two.”

Fred arched an eyebrow, his grin teasing. “Well, you’re not wrong. We are one of a kind.”

“No, I mean it,” she insisted, her hand wobbling slightly as she pointed at them. “You didn’t have to do this, taking me out, showing me around, making me feel... like I belong. But you did. And... and I’m just so grateful.”

George chuckled, leaning on the table to rest his chin in his hand, mirroring her. “Aw, Fred, she’s gone full sap on us. We’ve broken her.”

Fred nodded solemnly, raising his glass. “A masterpiece of our making. To Y/N, the sappiest American in all of London.”

“Stop it!” Y/N cried, though she was laughing as she swatted at him. “I’m being serious. You’ve made everything so much better. I didn’t think I’d find anyone like you here, and... and now I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Fred and George exchanged a look, their grins softening. Fred reached over, giving her hand a light squeeze. “Well, you’re stuck with us now. No refunds.”

George raised his glass with a warm smile. “To Y/N, our new favorite stray kitten.”

“And to the best pub crawl in history,” Fred added, clinking his glass with hers.

Y/N beamed, her eyes misty as she lifted her glass to meet theirs. “To you two,” she said softly. “For being the best.”

Everything after the last pub was a blur. One moment Y/N was laughing uncontrollably with Fred and George in the middle of London, their arms linked as they stumbled down cobblestone streets. The next, she was waking up in an unfamiliar bedroom, her head pounding like a drum and her mouth as dry as parchment.

The midmorning sun poured through the window, mercilessly bright, forcing her to squint as she rolled over. Blinking a few times, she took in her surroundings—wooden beams, mismatched furniture, and a distinct homey clutter that she vaguely recognized. Voices floated up from somewhere below, muffled but distinctly cheerful.

Dragging herself out of bed, she shuffled to the door and twisted the knob, stepping out onto the landing. That’s when it hit her. The hallway, the stairs, the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen—she was at the Burrow.

Her foggy mind pieced it together as she descended the stairs, one hand gripping the banister for balance. By the time she reached the living room, three familiar grinning faces were waiting for her, their expressions far too smug for her liking.

“There she is,” Charlie said brightly, stepping forward and thrusting a mug of dark blue liquid into her hands.

Y/N didn’t bother asking questions. Trusting Charlie’s easy smile, she tipped the mug back and downed it in one gulp. The concoction was bitter and slightly fizzy, but as it went down, the pounding in her head began to ease almost immediately. She let out a long sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging as the tension melted away.

“Better?” Fred asked from his spot on the sofa, his head tilted lazily against the armrest as he grinned at her.

“So much better,” Y/N agreed, setting the mug down on a nearby table and giving Charlie a grateful nod.

“We thought we’d killed you last night,” George announced, leaning back in an armchair with a dramatic sigh. “You went down faster than a Quaffle through a goalpost.”

Y/N smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry, I probably should’ve mentioned I’m a bit of a lightweight.”

“A bit?” George repeated, his grin widening. “Lightweight is an understatement. You only had five drinks!”

Y/N shrugged, her smile turning playful. “What can I say? You two are a terrible influence.”

Fred sat up, clutching his chest in mock offense. “Us? A terrible influence? We were nothing but supportive of your pub crawl journey!”

“Supportive?” Y/N laughed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorway. “You gave me a drink called ‘Dragon’s Breath’ and said, ‘You’ll probably survive.’ That’s not supportive.”

George snorted, shaking his head. “It’s a rite of passage. You should be thanking us.”

“Thanking you?” she echoed, rolling her eyes but unable to stop the grin tugging at her lips.

Charlie chuckled, leaning against the back of a chair. “Well, you survived. That’s what matters. Welcome to the Burrow’s hangover cure services.”

“Much appreciated,” Y/N said, rubbing her temples for good measure before plopping down into an empty chair.

Fred and George exchanged a look, their grins widening. “So,” Fred said slowly, “ready for round two tonight?”

Y/N groaned, throwing a cushion at him. “Not a chance!”

The room erupted into laughter, and as Y/N sank further into the cozy atmosphere of the Burrow, her headache gone and her heart full, she couldn’t help but feel a little grateful for the chaos these Weasleys had brought into her life

[real-reulbbr-band]

the queen herself, victoria (character ask)

Oh, the most wonderful girl thank you!!

Why I like them

Her solos are some of the most mesmerizing parts of the show for me, and I would love to see them live. There's just this softness and grace about her that's very comforting.

Why I don’t

The entire 2019 Mr. Mistoffelees number was unbearably cringy for me as much as I like the film but particularly when she started singing. It was giving disney zombies....

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

I have three.

One of my first favorite scene is actually from Warsaw where she's dancing with the stars. It really goes back to her connection to the moon that nobody else seems to have.

Alternatively, I love this scene where Jemima wants to approach Grizabella and brings Victoria along with her, and Victoria hesitantly looks back but decides to go along with Jem. They both scatter off when Jenny forbids them from touching Grizabella but I love how it nods back to how they're two half's of a hole.

And of course, one of the softest parts in the show for me and in my opinion one of Victoria's best moments.

Favorite season/movie

I Like Victoria in all versions of cats' media!! even when she's less prominent like in shiki. But for favorites I'll say standard version, 2019 film and broadway revival.

Favorite line

We're doing 2019 for this since Victoria doesn't have any solo lines.

"But at least you have beautiful ghosts."

I know a lot of people don't like this song and the criticisms for it and Victoria's character are fair, but I do think this sort of naive condescend-Iness works as a flaw for her. She doesn't mean harm, she want's to cheer up Grizabella and show that they're similar but ends up making Grizabella still feel isolated just like the jellicles.

Favorite outfit

I've grown to like the white / gold Victoria costume quite a bit but here's some designs I'm fond of:

OTP

Ah, ok so I've been convinced a little but don't be mad please. 2019 verse and standard stage verse is with Rumpleteazer but revival verse is with Plato. I don't why or how that happened either but yea I hope that makes sense.

Brotp

Mistoffelees recently, but mostly with Jemima. Again, two halves of a whole.

Head Canon

She worries a lot about injuries since she's aware about how delicate bones are and how a significant injury could hinder her dancing. So, she tends to watch her surroundings and positing more carefully than others.

Unpopular opinion

Hypothetically, I wouldn't mind if more non-reps went the warsaw/shiki route and didn't have Vitoria do a pas de deux but instead had a different solo involving the stars/moon.

A wish

More non-replica's to go all out with her design. Really emphasize the ballerina part of her look.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

probably losing her connection to the Jellicle moon, if she can't feel it at all she'll probably panic and assume something's wrong. If you want to look at it from a monochromatic sibling's angle, then she would've lost the one thing that made her "special" in comparison to her brother.

6 words to best describe them

HER WORDS they're perfect

Innocent, Romantic, Unselfconscious, Young, Inhibited, Inquisitive

My nickname for them

Again, I don't use character nicknames. But Vic<3

[princesssmars]

better leave your man at home!

mini stories of vi, sevika, abby, and ellie showing you your true worth.

wc : 7.306

contains : sfw and nsfw. fxf. fem!reader. cheating on the men's part until ellie's part lol. ellie’s is a modern!au the rest are in canon. mentions of violence and alcohol. silco but he's chill. owen but he's not chill. reader can be interpreted as bi or comphet i think!

a/n : ladies if you're reading this...cheat on him. or cheat back. yknow what just leave him.

VIOLET ꨄ

ʚɞ ever since getting out of prison and restarting her life, vi had been looking for a new purpose.

ʚɞ she had found a solid job, managed to reconnect with wither last siblings left alive, and started to build up a life for herself, but still, she felt...aimless. she longed for a deeper connection than the ones she had, someone she could yet again.

ʚɞ and then she meets you, a sweet little store owner with a voice that sounds like a symphony and an attitude as sweet as cookies. the first time she even met you she bumped into you on the street outside your bakery, knocking you supplies for your treats all over the ground. she's expecting that usual zaunite 'watch where you're going!' but instead you tell her not to worry, that you were carrying too many things anyway.

ʚɞ it was almost instinct for her to assure you she was at fault, downright demanding she help you carry everything that dropped inside and that it was the least she could do. you call her a sweetheart and tell her if she does you'll send her home with a plate of her favorite dessert. how could she say no?

ʚɞ she cant help but to quickly hang out with you whenever she can. after her shifts she stops by to help you close up, telling you its the least she could do for someone who was oh-so sweet. you seem to welcome her affections, whispering one late night when making some extra batter that you always appreciate when she stops by. she goes home on a high that night.

ʚɞ but then the worst thing ever happens. you get a boyfriend.

ʚɞ apparently he's some old family friend who moved back to the city when he found a small fortune overseas and was ready to come back to 'win you over like he tried years ago'. you told the story with a slightly wistful voice but all vi could do was nod along with wide eyes and a shut mouth.

ʚɞ eventually, she meets the guy, a tall and rather weasly looking guy who was waiting impatiently outside the store. she gave him a simple greeting and all he could do was tilt his head in recognition that she was there, apparently. she passed him and went to the back of the store and asked you what he was doing standing outside looking all suspicious. her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when you told her he was waiting to take you out but had to stand outside because he couldn't stand the smell of bread.

ʚɞ yeah, this definitely wasn't gonna last long. she’d just have to get you to see that.

ʚɞ sadly, she didn't have to do much work. ton a sunny day when the two of you were walking through the upper city levels together you stopped in your tracks, a talking vi whose arm was wrapped with yours questioning what made you stop before following your eyesight to see your boyfriend in the arms of another woman, way too close for comfort. vi wanted nothing more in that moment than to go and knock the bastard's lights out, but she had to prioritize you first.

ʚɞ you go into a depression for a week, your shop closed and your apartment locked as you skulk and cry in your home. but thankfully you gave vi a key not too long into your friendship, and she wakes you up one afternoon and demands you go and clean yourself up while she takes care of your chores.

ʚɞ you come out of the shower feeling rejuvenated and refreshed, your mood only lifting higher at the smell of cookies in the air. you pad out to the kitchen and cant help but smile when you see vi standing with a tray of perfectly made chocolate chip cookies on the island counter.

ʚɞ you sit up on your counter and moan at the taste of the cookies, vi accepting your praise of her baking skills with pride as she rubs over your bare thighs. eventually the topic steers to your recent heartbreak and vi makes sure you can complain and vent to her all you want.

ʚɞ but the last thing she wants to hear is you blaming yourself, teary-eyed and mumbling about how maybe you were too overbearing in your affections. she gently but sternly brings your attention to her, making sure you look her in the eyes when she goes on about how you’re the nicest and most soft-natured person she’s ever known and he was a fool to not see what an amazing woman he had in front of him.

ʚɞ and you cant help but feel even worse at the clear effect her affection has on you, unconsciously biting her lip at her praise and closeness. her eyes dart down to your lips and back to your eyes, slowly inching her head forward for permission. as soon as you slightly nod your head she’s kissing you with months of pent-up adoration, warmth, and lust.

ʚɞ a small part of you feels guilty for moving on to your close friend only a week after you broke up with your boyfriend, but when her fingers are drifting down to your cunt and making you cry as you cum over and over again, you can't find it in you to care.

ʚɞ “he was an idiot to give up on someone as sweet as you. but down worry muffin, i’m not gonna take that chance.”

SEVIKA ꨄ

ʚɞ sevika had made a promise to herself years ago: don't mess with married women.

ʚɞ she could give herself some grace, she was young and dumb, and the woman was incredibly gorgeous. and when a woman with legs that could bring any person woman or man to their knees comes up to you and asks you your plans for the night, you cant exactly pass up the opportunity. though she wishes she did after her partner caught them together in bed and she got in one of the worst fights of her life.

ʚɞ but she had to admit things in her life were getting a bit…stale, to say the least. her schedule was a steady routine of doing tasks for silco, reeling in jinx, and keeping the last drop working like a well-oiled machine. she didn't want anything drastic that would screw up their plans to happen, just…something.

ʚɞ and oh, does she get it. some out of towner got too rowdy in the bar and started a bar fight and before she could come in and get things under control theirams leg gets broken. so now she’s tasked with finding a good enough replacement to cover him for the few months it gets healed since he for some reason couldn't just take a shimmer dose and get back on his feet in no time.

ʚɞ she goes through dozens of recruits, all either too disobedient or downright atrocious behind a bar. she’s just about to give up and force one of the goons to do it when you come through the door. you’re rather unassuming, and at first she things you’re joking until you travel behind the bar and instruct her to give you any drink and you can make it. after ten different drinks she’s more than convinced.

ʚɞ she doesn't talk to you much at first, you’re just another cog in the machine that keeps the enterprise running smoothly. obviously she’s noticed that you’re attractive, surrounded by a stern but easy-going aura that makes most customers sit and want to talk to you for hours on end. it amused her when she watched how you convinced three different patrons to buy some more drinks so you’d continue telling them a wild story of some adventure you apparently had in bilgewater years back.

ʚɞ she can't help but ask you if its true later when the bar is closing and you’re wiping everything down, rolling her eyes when you call her out for listening to your conversations. you reveal that all your stories of adventure and excitement are true, but that you gave that life up when you decided to settle down after you get married.

ʚɞ she scoffs that the woman you married must be a hell of a catch to get you to leave behind such an exciting life, and she sees your eyes drop when you reveal that life with your husband is a nice and quiet alternative to your days of danger. sevika’s always had a good poker face, and she’s really glad she has it now after hearing you gave up all of that for a guy. and that her gaydar was apparently wrong, which never happens.

ʚɞ but its almost like this is the challenge her mind has been looking for, because after that conversation she keeps having late-night talks with you when no one else is around. you’re disarmingly easy to talk to, able to show a compassion and understanding that isn’t common for the folks down here. its only a few hours after she gets a bit too tipsy and accidentally lets slip a story about her upbringing that she lays in bed and slaps her human hand to her forehead in frustration when instead of being embarrassed all she can think about is your soft hand gently rubbing her shoulder as she poured her heart out.

ʚɞ she is so screwed.

ʚɞ eventually, you draw silco’s attention. mostly because the profits from the bar have nearly doubled since you started working, partly because he can tell a certain someone is distracting sevika. he gave her a list of tasks one day that he could tell she hated doing and she went off with a nod and without a word, and she either had a new woman in her life or she was about to snap. he made sure to find out about you a few minutes later, and asked/demanded to know more about your life. in particular, any outside connections you had.

ʚɞ sevika doesn't know whether she wants to thank silco or kill him when you’re given a more permanent position at the bar and finally introduce the crew to your husband, a man who silco has apparently given a job in his booking department. when sevika pulls him aside later to ask why he would od something like that, he just. shrugs. silco never just shrugs.

ʚɞ now that you’ve basically part of their little crime family it's even easier for sevika to spend more time with you. unfortunately for you jinx has taken a liking to you, but you handle it well and always make sure to give the girl her favorite drink in her favorite cup whenever she stops in the bar to babble on about some new weapon of mayhem she’s decided to make.

ʚɞ but after a few weeks she notices your mood start to sour, how you start getting snippy with some of the more rowdy drunks who stumble through the bar. she catches you a few hours after closing sat behind the bar with a half drunken bottle in your hand and mascara running down your cheeks. normally if this was anyone else she’d scoff to herself and quickly make her exit but instead she plops herself down next to you and demands you tell her what's wrong. through hiccups and tears, you tell her that you’re pretty sure your husband is lying to you. about a lot. in particular about where he spends his nights and comes back grumbling about ‘unfair bets’ and losing cash.

ʚɞ sevika assures you she’ll get to the bottom of it, and it only takes her a few hours of trailing thee guy to find out the problem. it seems your betrothed has been gambling your money away in seedy gambling circles, with some guys she swore she told to cut it out months ago when it came to rigging their dice when playing with tourists. but the amounts he’s using are definitely more than what either of you are making on a salary.

ʚɞ she tries not to smile when she picks the excuse of a man up by the back of his neck with her mech hand, reveling in the horrified look on his face as he makes up excuse after excuse for why he’s been stealing money from you and the boss, that he swears he’ll make it back up to silco-

ʚɞ you come in the next day as confused as ever, whispering that your husband packed up his things in the middle of the night and disappeared. sevika sits you down and explains that your husband was a thief, stealing hundreds from silco rather sloppily under his nose, and was dealt with in a timely manner. but she assures you that you won't be affected by any debts he may have had, she’ll make sure of it and make sure none of those gamblers come after you.

ʚɞ you only grow closer and closer after that night, and its no surprise you start to catch feelings for the gorgeous woman who constantly makes sure you’re safe and protected. its on one of the bars rather more exciting nights that you relent and play a drinking game with some members of the crew, and in a moment of weakness accidentally admit that since your husband left you haven't been laid in weeks, and in an additional moment of weakness admit that the first person you’d like to rock your world would be none other than silco’s second hand.

ʚɞ it was just your luck that the woman was walking by when the words left your lips, and fueled by her own dose of liquid courage came up behind you and whispered that she was free at that moment.

ʚɞ you expected many things when you settled down in zaun, and getting bent in half for hours on end by the second in command to the rule of the underground was not one of them. but when sevika groans in your ear and moans about how you have the tightest pussy she’s ever had the pleasure of taking, you’re really glad it happened to you.

ʚɞ “god, i’m really not gonna be able to stay away from you now. promise that the next time you get married you’re not gonna have to worry about being disappointed ever again.”

ʚɞ (when sevika walks in the next morning with a rare smile on her face silco does admit that he hired your husband knowing he’d be an idiot that she’d have to get rid of. you’re welcome.)

ABBY ꨄ

ʚɞ abby never saw herself as a jealous person. she’d only been in one relationship before, and even though it ended rather sourly she knew it was only natural that they’d both eventually move on. but when she sees you, a new wlf recruit walking and smiling side by side with owen, she feels…weird. really weird.

ʚɞ she does feel bad that as soon as he introduces you all to the group at a small party thrown by some of the soldiers all she can manage is tight-lipped smile and a small wave. you visibly deflate and smile it off, immediately pulled away by nora and leah to grab some drinks. manny butts her shoulder with his, giving her that ‘what the hell?’ look he loves to do. she defensively apologizes, because how should she react? her ex-boyfriend clearly has a thing for you, is she supposed to be all buddy buddy with you?

ʚɞ it doesn't help that its clear to everyone that you’re pretty. like, weirdly pretty for someone in the middle of an apocalyptic setting. crystal clear skin, smooth lips, and eyes of a beautiful shade. she caught herself staring once in the gym as you laughed with one of the trainers and had to quickly get herself together.

ʚɞ isaac must be playing a sick game because you then get assigned to go with her on patrol. she initially resented, questioning why you were tagging along when you mostly worked with the medics and mel was already trailing along. he said that apparently you had asked for the chance to get some more field practice and left it at that, dismissing her with a wave.

ʚɞ she was quiet for most of the ride to the patrol spot, hands tight on the steering wheel as you sat in the back of the truck with the others in the group and laughed at some story one the guys was talking about.

ʚɞ god, even your laugh is cute, she thinks as she carefully maneuvers the truck around a downed tree. youre like if a dream girl was placed down in this wasteland to torture her, a giant sign to tell her of course owen went after you, you were perfect. more perfect than she could be.

ʚɞ it isnt helpful that shes left partnered with you as you clear out the abandoned store in the strip mall they've all been sent to check and re-clear the spaces if necessary. she finds herself frustrated when you very reasonably and very smartly stick to her side the whole time. she swears she almost trips over an overgrown branch when she catches a whiff of your soap and she doesnt know where the hell you managed to snag vanilla flavored anything.

ʚɞ everything is fine for a while. you both remain vigilant as you walk through the barely lit aisles of the department store, the only action when a clicker jumps up out of nowhere and nearly tackled you before she’s roughly pushing you out of the way and kicking out its knees before bashing in its head with her boot. she’s panting and catching her breath before roughly asking if you were alright and reminding you to stay vigilant, taking your wide eyed stare for shock at a close encounter to what would be a rather painful death.

ʚɞ but despite her rather abrasive attitude you try your best to be friendly with her. you reveal that owen did confide about their past relationship, and as awkward as the situation sometimes was you wouldn’t let it drive a wedge between you, that you in fact wanted to be friends with abby. you had heard a great many things about her, how she was a loyal friend, a courageous leader, clearly an incredibly strong soldier-

ʚɞ her brain. short circuits a bit. the way you called her strong, like it was fact that was so obvious that she’d already proven it to you just by being out here. sure she’d pushed you of out the trajectory of that clicker but that was normal, anyone should and would do the same. she realizes you wouldn’t get the chance to see any displays of strength like that back in the base save for the visits to the gym, and a foreign voice in her head laments what a shame that is.

ʚɞ she doesn’t realize until a day later just how screwed she is.

ʚɞ whatever weird…feelings she has for you don’t even get a chance to go away or settle, just fester and multiply with your constant presence. where abby is her friends are close by, and that now includes you. at small get togethers, shared gym workouts, breakfast lunch and dinner hangouts, you’re always there with a bright smile and a warm greeting for her. she thinks she’s hiding whatever it is she’s hiding pretty well until nora pulls her to the side and asks why she just keeps staring at you whenever you’re around, that she understand there might be some lingering feelings of jealousy and resentment towards owen but that’s no reason to treat you rudely.

ʚɞ abby stumbles over her words, insisting that she’s not treating you rudely, that’s the last thing she would want to do. who would ever do that to someone as nice and sweet and gorgeous as you? she ends her mini explanation with a stiff chuckle and looks at nora who’s now staring at her with an open mouth and a flabbergasted look on her face.

ʚɞ so it’s clear that abby likes you. she doesn’t know how to grapple with the fact, and decides its best to just deal with it privately and wait for it to just pass as most things do. the only person who knows is nora, who after not talking to her for a few hours after their last encounter came back to abby’s room to apologize for walking out on her in a moment where they so clearly needed to talk more about what was just revealed. she assures abby that she’ll help her through this but it’s very confusing to herself as well. it’s not every day you have to deal with your best friend falling in love with her boyfriends new girlfriend.

ʚɞ she doesn’t agree with abby’s method, frequently telling her that dealing with this in private will only have the opposite effect. and just like normally she’s right, abby’s increased attempt at distance from you only peaks your worry and drives you to constantly check in on her to make sure she’s okay. one day you come by her room after one of your workouts, and the sight of you covered in a thin sheen of sweat in shorts and a tank asking her sweetly if she’s feeling okay and if she’d like to join you for lunch let’s her know for sure that she really can’t do this for much longer.

ʚɞ so she’s tries her best to try a different approach : exposure therapy. as bad as it sounds, she’s sure once she starts spending more time with you she’ll realize you aren’t some mythical girl of of her dreams and are just a normal person who’s dating her ex and who she can totally just be normal friends with. she comes up to you in the halls a few days later and asks if you’d like her to help you train for more field work and you beam up at her before wrapping your arms around her neck and thanking her a multitude of times before composing yourself. you go one about how you were so eager to prove yourself and you’d do no better than to have the abby anderson teaching you the basics. she zoned out as soon as she felt your skin against the back of her neck, nodding along to all of your words with a doe-eyed blank look.

ʚɞ it’s really nice bonding with you over the course of a few short weeks. you quickly pick up on the things she teaches you, and whatever you don’t she’s more than eager to help you learn. she hates to admit it but her conscious cheered a little bit when you told her you needed help aiming one of the bigger rifles, and it nearly screamed when she got to place herself behind you and helped you aim at the target practice. maybe she’s a bit delusional at this point but she swears she felt your body relax into hers, felt your breath stutter just a bit when her chest met your back.

ʚɞ and she knows it’s serious when she trusts you enough to share her space in the library. it’s a night when manny has a girl over so she’s in her usual cozy spot surrounded by the book shelves when she shears your gentle footsteps and call of her name, remarking that you initially went to the room out of loneliness about owen being gone for the night but came here when a breathless and shirtless manny told you her usual sleepover spot. she invites you to settle in with her in her heap of old blankets surrounded by dusty novels, trying her best to remain calm when you lean your head on her shoulders and insisted she keep reading her current book aloud.

ʚɞ she wakes up to the early morning light with her head rested on top of yours, snuggled up to battle the chill of the stadium air and your hand clamped around her arm. when she looks down at your face and wishes she could see you like this every day she realizes that she is really, really screwed.

ʚɞ luckily she doesn’t have to wait long to see you like that again. well, the circumstances are rather horrid. yet another soldier was having small secret party ok one of the larger stadium dorms and you were glued to abby’s side. everyone besides nora was confused but happy that the two of you seemed to be getting along so well, and nora herself kept giving abby looks that were a mixture between pity, worry, and just a bit of ‘you need to just get this off of your chest to anyone else but me’ annoyance.

ʚɞ abby was your designated drink manager, constantly making sure you weren’t too drunk and were drinking enough water to stave off any of the negative effects of the smuggled in alcohol they brought in for the party. you’re both sitting on one of the couches and observing the party when you make an off handed comment about not seeing owen for a while and abby decides to sit you down snuggly on the couch while she goes to look for him to appease your tipsy haze. her search leads her down the hallway, and it’s only when she hears an object drop in a nearby maintenance closet does she find out the truth.

ʚɞ she whips open the door to see owen and mel in a rather…well, let’s just say a really lewd position. in the midst of being disgusted and infuriated she finds a bit of amusement at mousy mel of all people doing a drunken hookup in a dingy closet. owen hurriedly tries to fix himself and his pants, insisting to abby that it’s not what it looks like, and suddenly his eyes lock on an object behind her and she turns around to see you, teary eyed and clearly betrayed before you silently stoop off to the direction of your own room.

ʚɞ abby is normally a calm person. as a soldier she isn’t afforded the luxury to let her emotions get the better of her in moments of stress. but seeing you with tears in your eyes and a wobbly lip makes her wish she broke owen’s nose on the spot. collecting all of her composure, she slaws the closet door in his face and quickly runs after you.

ʚɞ she quickly chases after you, making her way down the stadium halls until she finds your bedroom door agape, quickly knocking and entering when she hears your quiet cry demanding owen leave. she makes sure to announce who she is once she settles in beside you on your bed, gently extending her hands to make sure shes allowed to physically comfort you before pulling you into a tight hug once you let her know it’s okay.

ʚɞ she had again struggles to keep her composure when you cry into her shoulder, not minding the tears staining her t-shirt when she hears you weep about what a fool you wer, how you were such an idiot to believe that someone like him could truly care about you.

ʚɞ in the morning, she can blame the weeks of pent up feelings, or maybe the cup of beer she had an hour before, but she can’t stop herself from grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards her, commanding your attention before she reveals that should’ve warned you about owen earlier, that she should’ve known he would take advantage of someone with as sweet a nature as you. She’s always known he was a fool, but to ruin his chances of someone like you is the dumbest thing he ever could’ve done.

ʚɞ when you sniffle and look up at her with those shiny eyes and puffy lips and ask her if that’s true she feels her composed facade slipping, hands shaky as she reaches up to wipe your tears away before letting her palm letting her fingers trail down your face, biting her lip when she sees your eyelids flutter closer when her hands start to ghost down your neck.

ʚɞ she doesn’t feel sorry when she watches you take off your top, doesn’t feel guilt when she pushes you down to the bed and lets her lips bite and kiss from your neck to her chest and draw out all manners of whines and gasps from your throat. and when she feels your hips lift up and grind into her crotch, when her hands attach themselves to your hips and forces you to bring yourself to an orgasm in your pants, she doesn’t give a shit how it’ll seem when she parades you around the stadium tomorrow.

ʚɞ manny and nora are open mouthed and shocked when you walk hand in hand into the cafeteria the next morning, both starry eyed and covered in love bites as you sit together nearly attached at the hip. when owen walks in a few minutes later and quickly storms out after seeing the two of you, abby can’t help but shrug when manny asked her what the hell is going on.

ʚɞ “owen had his chance, and he should learn that jealously is a monster.”

ELLIE ꨄ

ʚɞ in moments like these ellie remembers laughing at how her fellow lesbians would fall for their straight friends in middle and high school and end up with broken hearts and broken friendships. and now as she sits across from you and listens to you lament about your boyfriend, she realizes that karma is real and she is totally a bitch.

ʚɞ truly, she has no one to blame, but herself the moment she saw you walk into the record store she worked at she knew that this would only lead to trouble for herself. It was obvious to Dina, who lightly pushed his shoulder and told her to stop drooling and to focus on her work and not fall into another relationship so soon after her catastrophic breakup with cat. she had rolled her eyes at the brunette and assured her nothing would happen, that she’d politely introduce herself, help you buy a product, and never think about or see you again.

ʚɞ god, what an idiot she was.

ʚɞ as soon as she introduced herself, you complemented her tattoo, mention that you had wanted one but were too indecisive about a design and placement. before she can even think of what she wants to say she’s telling you that wouldn’t mind hooking you up with her tattoo artist who could help you decide what you wanted. hell, she wouldn’t mind helping you decide what kind of vibe you were going for when it came to the body art and where exactly on your body would be best to showcase it.

ʚɞ you’re beaming up at her and thanking her, telling her that she really is just too kind. she’s even kinder when she continues to talk to you as she helps you look through the store, helping you decide which record would be best for your collection.

ʚɞ and helping you pick out another record as a gift. for your boyfriend. she can hear dina snicker at the counter all the way from three aisles away, passing it off as allergies when you turn to look at her.

ʚɞ but it’s not like she’s gonna fall for you. she gives you her number, but that’s because she already promised she’d help you with the tattoo stuff. and sure she talks with you for hours the following week and even goes with you to the parlor for moral support, but that’s because she’s a good person! and you even told her she’s a great friend for helping you with this! she’s just being friendly.

ʚɞ soon enough she basically becomes your new best friend. she doesn’t know how it happened really, somewhere between helping you when your car broke down in the middle of the road and having dinner with your parents when they demand to meet the person who’s been taking up an extra chunk of their daughters time. it’s frightening how easy it is to just be with you, to talk to you about any and everything. she remembers it took dina pestering her at work for weeks for them to become friends, and here she is laughing with your dad over roasted chicken after a month.

ʚɞ dina and jesse call her delusional. when the former shows the latter a picture of you on the instagram account you have to ellie he folds over in laughter and tells ellie oh so eloquently that she’s definitely going to fall for you, it’s only inevitable. but she remains vigilant that she wouldn’t do something so dumb. i mean yeah you’re basically exactly her type, like a deity went into one of her wet dreams and plucked the woman she manifested and placed you in the real world, but she was strong. there were plenty of fish in the sea. plenty of gay fish, to be exact.

ʚɞ she tries to go on dates, scrolls through tinder and likes every other attractive viable woman she sees. she even manages to have a few hookups. its really just a coincidence that they have some of your similar characteristics, truly. she’s not actually looking for you in any of these girls, that’d just be weird.

ʚɞ but then it happens. she has a girl over, her leg thrown over her shoulder as she grinds herself into the pretty girl’s cunt. she’s lost in a high after the blunt they’d shared earlier and her heads thrown back as she’s letting out expletive after expletive, and then she does it. she moans your name. she pauses, the girl pauses, and its silent as they remove their entangled limbs from each other and rigidly lay in bed side by side. it hurts even worse than the embarrassment when the girl pats her shoulder with a smile after she’s put her clothes back on, wishing her luck with whatever’s goin on between the two of you.

ʚɞ there’s no point in denying it then. she doesn't even get the chance to keep it to herself, the next day when she’s watching a movie on your couch you poke and prod at her until she reveals what’s got her in such a sour mood. she doesn't tell you the full story, of course, just that something absolutely mortifying happened last night when she was riding some girl. she groans that she didn't even get to finish and that was way worse then what she said, hoping the joke will ease some of the embarrassment she has telling the story and the guilt about passively lying to you.

ʚɞ she doesn't notice how you hips shift in your seat, how your teeth bite at the skin of your lip. she does notice when you question what she meant by riding a girl. she cant help but think about how adorable you are before explaining the position in the nicest way possible. you hum and turn your attention back to the movie and she thinks that's the end of the conversation. but only seconds later you’re asking her to show you.

ʚɞ she thinks she's dreaming. no, she knows she's dreaming. its happened before, weird dreams she has after a strong high where she swears her dreams become all the more vivid and lifelike. it was super annoying the second time it happened, she woke up to a world where she in fact did not win the lottery and get to make out with her celebrity crush. but this is just cruel, she didn't know her brain could be so masochistic. but no, the feel of your hand shaking her shoulder and shyly asking if you’ve made her uncomfortable is real, your big eyes flitting to anywhere but hers is real.

ʚɞ she stutters over her words, asking if you really mean it. and you say yeah, you’d been curious about this anyway. it wouldn't hurt to do it with ellie, you were friends, right? and god what an idiot she was because she’s nodding along like of course, this couldn’t make your friendship weird at all, right? so she gets to work, not doing anything too lewd except for gently pushing you to lie on your back as she maneuvers her body over yours, placing her crotch over yours until she can feel the heat of you through her jeans. she tries not to show a reaction to the sight of you looking up at her, curious and flushed as your hand briefly comes up to rest on her hip. its only when your hips delicately press up into hers that she abruptly removes herself from on top of you, stiffly chuckling before recommending you get back to the movie.

ʚɞ neither of you bring it up again.

ʚɞ it’s so much more difficult to be around you now. before she was resolute in the fact that she was alone in whatever weird feelings she had towards you, but eventually she might move on. but with only a few actions you threw that whole viewpoint out the window. now it was clear that you were interested. maybe not in ellie but in sex with another woman. a small part of her is upset at the fact it might not be her. its only cliche that if you started having these feelings you’d fall for your gay best friend, who the hell else were you thinking about? whatever, that wasn't important.

ʚɞ what was important was what occurred over the next few weeks. it happens slowly but surely, your complaints about your intimate troubles with your boyfriend. now ellie had met the guy before, and it made her feel slightly better that she had a valid reason right from the start not to like him. the man was clearly an ass, looking her up and down the first time they met and giving her a ‘yeah you’re weird’ look that he apparently didn’t think she’d recognize. luckily she didn’t have to see him often, only seeing him in passing when she spent time with you at yours or picked you up to go hang out.

ʚɞ but now his weirdness is apparently front and center. she nearly chokes on her chipotle when you tell her that he questioned why the two of you were spending so much time together, feeling like ellie was going to make a move on you.

ʚɞ and yeah, it was offensive. just because she was a lesbian didn’t mean she wanted to jump the bones of every woman she met. unfortunately that didn’t apply here because she very much did want to jump your bones. not like he knew that. hopefully.

ʚɞ but she doesn’t want to get in the way of your relationship, begrudgingly recommending that maybe the two of you should spend some time apart so he can chill out and realize he’s being paranoid. she’s very happy to hear your quick rebuttal, remarking how you’d rather dump him then spend any more time away from her.

ʚɞ god you are making this so confusing. and it only reaches a head the next time she sees you. you’d texted her to ask if she could come over late at night and obviously she said she would, along with a bag of your favorite drinks and snacks just in case you got peckish. so she’s sitting on the couch as you both eat some shareable m&ms when the topic becomes a bit more…intimate.

ʚɞ she notices your rigid shoulders as you sit stark straight on the couch and laughs about how pent up you must be. your following laugh is awkward as you agree that you have been a bit stressed lately. so she tells a joke, that your boyfriend isn’t up to par in bed. she expects you to laugh and hit her shoulder but you nod your head.

ʚɞ you…nod your head. and then you turn to her, and she’s getting flashbacks to the last time you were this close on your couch. her face is hot as whisper that the past few times you’ve tried to sleep with your boyfriend he, as you eloquently put it, ‘just pumps and dumps’, and brushes you off whenever you bring up the fact that you haven’t had a release. that as much as it ashamed you to say it, once he falls asleep next to you you sometimes find your hand trailing under your shorts and thinking back to her stories of the hookups she told you about, wishing she could show you how all of that felt.

ʚɞ ellie has always liked your bedroom. its soft and sweet, with vines of fake ivy hanging across the ceiling and a large canopy hanging over the bed. you even have an adorable collection of stuffed animals, a few of them gifted to you by her throughout the months of your friendship. all of the little guys have been shoved to the floor now, and for a fleeting moment she things they’re really just going to have to understand before her mind is consumed again with you, how you’re pretty flushed face is staring and moaning up at her as her wrist nearly cramps with how fast her fingers are pistoning into your wet cunt.

ʚɞ you haven’t even touched her and she’s already on cloud nine. your confession nearly made her pass out, and she swore she had died and gone to heaven when you asked her to help you with your problem and grabbed her hand to lead her to your bed. it was like her horniest dream come true to see you undress, to feel over your skin, to lower her head to your pussy and try her best to suck out your soul in the most loving way possible.

ʚɞ she feels her boxers get soaked when you cum around her fingers again, legs wrapping around her waist and head raising to muffle your sounds in her shoulder. she swore she nearly came when you bit into her shoulders, already knowing she was going to look into the mirror later to look at the mark your teeth left on her with a smile. but she didn’t predict for you to be so insatiable, for as soon as she pulls her fingers out of your cunt you’re whining and grinding your hips up into hers, whispering little *‘please, el, need more’*s

ʚɞ “don’t worry, baby, i’ll give you whatever you want. swear once i’m done you’re never even gonna think of that stupid boyfriend of yours again.”

[rayaswrittings]

I just want to feel

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader

Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.

Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.

This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!

“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.

While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.

Colby would always come and get you from them.

“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.

“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.

You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.

You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.

The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.

Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.

At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.

That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.

When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.

But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.

“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.

The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.

You hated blood.

“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.

That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.

Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.

You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.

Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.

You never stopped thinking about that night.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”

One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.

“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.

“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.

“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.

“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.

“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”

“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.

“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know” After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.

“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.

“I uh… you know I-“

“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.

“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“

“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.

“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.

“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.

“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?

“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”

“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.

“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”

“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.

Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.

But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,

It was the way he’d look at you.

“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”

“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.

The tension between the two of you.

“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.

“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.

And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.

Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.

After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.

“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?

“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..

“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.

The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.

“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?

“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.

Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..

Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.

“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.

“Maybe we should take a small break?”

“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.

“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.

He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.

“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.

“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.

Why did you have to get drunk?

“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.

“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.

But did he want you to?

“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“

“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.

You wanted him.

“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.

Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.

His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.

But this only made you so much hornier.

His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.

And he knew it.

“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.

You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.

“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”

“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”

What?

No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?

“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.

“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.

“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”

“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“

“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”

“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“

“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.

You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”

“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?

“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“

“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“

“Y/N”

“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“

“Y/N, I’m-“

“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.

Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.

But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?

A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.

Which you were.



After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.

It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?

He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.

His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.

Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”

You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.

“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.

“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.

“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”

“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.

This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.

You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.

He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.

“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”

The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.

“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.

And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.

Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.

“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.

“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.

“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.

“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.

“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”

“Colby… please—Jesus-“

“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?” You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.

“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…

“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”

Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.

You nod

“Sam is going to be so happy”

Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))

[retiredteabag]

Wishful Thinking

arranged marriage with Nanami… a continuation

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

It was fair to say that the Belmond Eastern & Oriental Express was by far the most luxurious space you had ever occupied.

Your honeymoon was a weekend-long excursion aboard the aforementioned train. It would take you through the breathtaking Malaysian mountains, right through the heart of the country's culinary capital, and finally over to the coast, where you could spend the night on the beach.

You fiddled with your luggage as your husband left to speak with a steward about getting a cup of coffee. Nights ago, after much berating from your clan elders, Nanami discussed the plans of the trip with you. At the time, you had politely asked if there was a possibility you could have a joint cabin. Nanami told you he had already requested two suites, and that you did not have to worry.

When you arrived, however, giving the polite stewardess your last name, they insisted that there had only been one cabin under your now, shared name.

At this news, your husband seemed more distressed than you. For you though, in the back of your mind, you had almost expected it. Certainly, you would not have put it past your family.

Arriving to your room after some questioning from your husband, you found that the king bed, lavishly accessorized with pillows and throws, could actually become two twin XLs.

He had lifted your suitcase from your hands with one arm and set it on the luggage rack as if it weighed no more than the pillow he had simultaneously been extricating from the dual bed.

He ran his now free hand through his hair, he almost looked panicky, "I apologize. I should have called ahead to ensure your comfort. I can speak with them again and see if they have any other open cabins but for now-"

"Nanami, it's okay-" You move forward to help him de-fluff the mattress. "I should have anticipated this anyway..."

He stands up straight, "In any case, I can sleep in one of the scenic cars- I looked and there are couches and-"

You interrupt again, "Nanami, I am not going to have you sleep on the couch" You chuckle, knowing he really would. "I think I might have given you the impression that you make me uncomfortable."

His eyes raised at this, you continue, "I can assure you that you do not. And I don't mind sharing a room with you."

This whole interaction played through your mind as you waited for your husband to return. He had seemed so professional in that moment, so tense, eyes so wide. He had cleared his throat and asked if you were sure. All you had done was laugh, asking if he was hungry and would like for you to order refreshments.

Of course, he had insisted on going in your stead.

--

The train had fifteen carriages. Eight sleeping cars, two restaurant cars, a piano car bar, and an open-air observation car. After having shifted the bed around, you sat at the table overlooking the window in your room. Nanami had brought back coffee, afternoon tea, and a wide variety of treats. Tarts, fresh fruit, scones, and cookies.

There was a mildly awkward silence between you two as the breathtaking Malaysian jungle passed you by. Just as you were about to take a sip of your drink, Nanami pipes up.

"I wanted to make sure..." He says.

You turn to look at him but he's focused on the foliage just beyond the rails. "I need you to say if you're uncomfortable. I know you have a problem with pleasing people, but nothing would upset me more than your silent discomfort."

You choke down your tea quickly. It took you a moment, but you realize then that you hadn't even been trying to appease him or the staff when you suggested sharing the room, it had felt natural.

After having known the man hardly a week, you had come to view him almost as a friend. The notion, of course, might be due to the fact that you hadn't many friends to speak of, but nobody could deny how kind Nanami was.

"I'm not." You wave your hands in front of your face. "Uncomfortable, I mean."

He squinted at you in a funny way, attempting, you guess, to read your expression. Finally smiling, he takes a sip of his beverage and accompanies you in looking out the shared window. If only you could explain how much you appreciated every thought he gave you.

--

There were two restaurant cars on the train, and you would be swapping between them for meals your duration on board. There was a formal dress code at meal times, and as you spun in the mirror, you wondered if you would be able to fit in amongst all the opulence.

See, you had been trained in table manners, small talk, and most every other area of etiquette, even so, you had rarely strayed from clan meetings or school. It was not common for you to have an outing intended for pleasure.

Without the watchful eye of your family or higher-ups, you could do or say anything you wanted. You had a friend there to speak with.

You fiddled with the sleeve of your dress. Turned this way and that to get a look at every angle. Blurred your lip stain with a finger, then considered if you should reapply.

You ran a finger over the waist of your outfit, brushed off some imaginary dust, and pursed your lips.

Yes, you decided, and reached over for your lipstick once more.

A knock came at the bathroom door.

"Yes! Sorry!" You spun and unlatched the lock, pulled the door open. Hopefully you hadn't been hogging your shared lavatory. You took in the man before you.

On your wedding day, he had been dressed to the nines, hair quaffed, and likely just as striking to observe as he was now. However, you had been a tad bit occupied by your mind back then. And since that day, he had dressed comfortably around you. Smart casual, not too much, not too little either... he even appeared handsome in his pajamas, all this to say, before you now, it felt like you were seeing him for the first time.

He was adjusting his wristwatch when you opened the door. Seeing him like this, you almost wanted to hide behind the wall of the bathroom. You knew, based on what type of man he was, that he would likely feel obligated to spare you a compliment. Even the idea flustered your mind. For the first time since adolescence, you felt a sudden embarrassment at trying to look attractive. You wanted to wipe the lipstick off completely.

You tried to rush and tell him something nice before he got there first, but it seemed as though he was distracted by the image of you. His pupils looked huge in the light of the sconces on the wall and his head twitched ever so slightly to take in the whole image of you.

He didn't rake his eyes up and down in a lustful way, no, he kept his looks appropriate and gentlemanly. Even so, he looked wildly absorbed stepping forward to settle against the doorframe. He held out his free hand to help you step down.

"You look...great..." You beg yourself not to trip, holding his palm and settling to the floor. Shaking a little at your poor choice of words. He simply laughs.

"Me?" He keeps his eyes at the back of your neck, your shoulder, your embarrassed little smile, "You," He shakes his head, "you are the sight to behold."

It tickles your stomach, how genuine he sounds.

--

There was a table reserved specifically for you both, the window beside you painted tropical mountains that raced past at record speeds. The food came in courses and everything was delicious. There was wine and lit candles atop the intricate tablecloths in this car. Under close inspection, the wallpaper seemed to twirl in textured spirals of cream. You felt enlivened to be here.

Even happier still, dessert was coming.

"I think it might be time we try and practice." Nanami tilted his head, observing you.

"Practice what?" You asked, brows raised.

"Discovering you." He smiled.

You laugh, "Nanami. We have been talking all meal, what is there to discover?"

"We have been talking about me all meal." He mimics your tone. "That or the food...or the decor."

You roll your eyes dramatically, "I wanted to know about those things. And the food was good. And the decor is lovely."

"I agree," He nods, "but when I asked what type of refreshment you would like, I was hoping you would tell me, not simply go along with whatever I say."

You chuckle. He's a little too attentive, "I don't have much experience with wine, I preferred you picking."

"That may be true," He smiles goodnaturedly, "but you have been affirming every little thing I say. Did you know that? You know you don't have to avoid disagreements with me, right? I want to know who you are and what you think, not have a copy of myself."

No, you hadn't realized you had been doing that. As a child, you had made yourself small on purpose, it was an easy way to get people to like you. Now, it wasn't even a conscious effort. Nobody seemed to notice before, in fact, everyone prior to Nanami had seemed to appreciate how mailable you were.

"How's this," He started again, "What's your favorite dessert?"

You think and think, tapping your foot. You liked all kinds of desserts, earlier you had ordered the cheesecake alongside Nanami. And back in the cabin you had enjoyed the petit fours.

Nanami knocks a knuckle on the table. "See, this is something most everyone knows. Did you order the cheesecake because that's what I like?" He is grinning at you but his eyes seem discouraged at the thought.

"What? No!" You say, "I really do like cheesecake!"

Your husband grins, "Me too." He points to you now, speaking gently, "But what is your favorite?"

You're taking some time to answer but it really was because you didn't know. It's not as if you were granted allowance to every sweet the kitchens made growing up. You racked your brain trying to conjure a memory of a delicious custard you had eaten at a banquet once.

Just as Nanami was about to speak again, you nearly jump our of your seat, "Crème brûlée!" You recall the dish. Pleased that you could provide an answer. "That's my favorite."

As you reply, your hand comes down onto the table. Suddenly surprised by your force in response. Nanami, though, does not seem embarrassed by your show of joy.

"Very good!" He smiles as you awkwardly sip from your glass. "Crème brûlée," he considers, "very fancy, I've actually never had it."

You set your glass down, "Never? Really?" Once again, you assumed those who were not apart of a clan must be infinitely free. Free to eat whatever they crave.

"I've only had it once but it was so good. I wonder if it was because of the difference of texture... I believe that I would like it even without the caramelized sugar on top though, maybe now... since we live away I could make it sometime..." You taper off, pick up your glass and cover your face with it, had you said too much?

Since when were you such a loud-mouthed?

Nanami never once took his gaze from you. In fact, he might not have all evening, eye contact seemed to be a thing of his. "Well, that sounds delicious. I think it would be nice to share some at home."

He was so good at carrying a conversation, especially after you feel into a mood of humiliation from oversharing. At one point he had excused himself to the restroom and you allowed yourself a moment to breathe.

He was so focused on you. Not your clan, or your abilities, or your placement between the higher ups. No, he was purely focused on you. For the first time, a man had made your heart race.

Throughout all your life, at home, at school, in clan meetings, you had been viewed as a broodmare, a piece of meat that would carry on your clan name and ensure strong sorcerer children.

Knowing that, it was not difficult to become revolted by the seductive men who roamed their eyes over your body. Saw you how everyone else did. Wanted you for a prize.

Nanami Kento. You tightened your lips to keep your grin from showing. Did everyone feel this way about their friends? Maybe you are just weak to kindness.

The very man occupying your thoughts was at that moment leaned against the wall of the the locomotive, nowhere near the restrooms.

He had so much praise to speak but he did not want to embarrass you further. It seemed it was easy to do so.

He waited patiently for the steam engines attendant to return. When she had heard his request, she was more than happy to fulfill his wishes.

"Excuse me," He had asked, "I'm here to celebrate my honeymoon, you see, and my wife is very fond of Crème brûlée. You wouldn't happen to be able to specially make some?"

This must be a sign of luxury, he thought. To order something that was not on the menu and still have it presented to you.

Kento grinned like a child on Christmas as he passed between train cars. Two ramekins were tucked behind his back. He lived to see your smile, to hear you laugh, to admire this person, this strange woman he was hardly familiar with, yet craved to know. His wife.

--

When Nanami arrived from the bathroom, he had an oddly mischievous glint in his eye. He seemed to move something to his lap once he was seated. This grin of his was contagious.

"Well, you look suspicious." You chuckle. But it did not last long, no, because the man before you reached out to hand you a small chilled spoon.

"I suppose I cannot hide it." He said, placing two ramakins on the table. It only took a moment before you gasped, pointing at him as if to accuse him of a crime.

"You! Is that- w-when? Wait a moment." You placed both your palms facing him and coughed a laugh. "Did you really- I-" You could hardly believe him.

"Use your words." He hummed, placing the dessert in front of you, "I know you've got them."

The teasing forced you to breathe slowly. "Nanami." You whispered harshly.

"Quite the array of sweets in the bathroom, you wouldn't believe."

"No!" You laughed, Nanami swelled at the sound, "I daresay I wouldn't."

"Try it, is it as good as you remember?"

You take your spoon, look up to the man that had gone out of his way to bring you this small joy, crack the sugar, and scoop the custard into your mouth. It's hard not to make some obscene noise at the shuttering chill it brings you.

"It's even sweeter."

--

That night, after changing out of your dress, and he his suit, the two of you squeeze past partygoers in the bar car and walk your way to the very end where the open observation car was left vacant.

One might imagine the night air humid but only a warm breeze flies past you as you both take in the scenery. It seems impossible to suggest that you had only met this man a week or so prior. The fear you had felt being chained to him left almost as quickly as it had greeted you. How warm it feels to have a friend.

Never before had you been so free to speak of what you wished and to eat what you wished. You had three whole days ahead of you to explore this beautiful country, there were so many excursions to choose from and a man at your side who was very good at making decisions.

"I always wanted to come to Malaysia." He suddenly spoke up.

As fantastical as this whole day had seemed, you couldn't help recognizing the illusion that was being hidden. The two of you were practically strangers. Polite acquaintances perhaps. Married or not, this was likely not how Nanami saw his life going. Without the looming responsibility of a clan on his shoulders, he probably felt less free than ever before. Had he even wanted to be married prior to the higher-ups enlisting him for this role?

"Really? I'm glad you're able to come...though-" you pause, "I am sorry the circumstances are a bit..." You tapper off, waggling your head, hoping he would pick up what you meant.

He, of course, did not follow, "What? No, don't be sorry, what do you mean, 'circumstances'?"

His focus, that was once so ardently on the countryside passing by, was now on you, attempting to read the hidden pages of your shameful smile without breaking your delectably closed spine.

"I just mean... I'm sure you didn't intend to come in this position." You make a show of your hands. Trying to make light and humor of the situation. He simply cocks his head. "Married. I mean, arranged to me. It's just probably not what you expected."

He doesn't speak for a long moment. But then he is bending down and meeting your eyes. You can feel his breath on the exposure of your neck and he still smells of the caramelized sugar he had sought out just for you.

"I'm glad you're with me. You haven't...don't say that." He sighs, looking at you closely and whispering your name, "Don't apologize. I wouldn't have it any other way."

The idea is so absurd, your shoulders tense with your laugh. "How could that be true? You-you barely know me?"

He stretches his hand down to your own, softly strokes it, "And I get to know you. How exciting is that? We can learn together."

And as the wind whips in your face, you feel grateful for the slightness of the moons reflection hiding your flush. He settles your hand down again and smirks at you. A world away from the higher-ups, it's hard to imagine any trouble or obligation coming your way. This weekend was the two of yours. And as your heart raced and mind dazed at your husbands gentle and warm touch, you hoped this feeling never departed.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

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[rikiislvr]

♥︎necklace - nishimura riki

pairing: nishimura riki x afab!reader

summary: while on tour in the US, niki runs into you at a jewelry store, since he’s not the best with speaking english, he tries his hardest to ask you out with as many words as he knows, (and with the help of jake lol)

warnings: none!!

you walked into the jewelry shop on the way to your apartment in hopes to find a new necklace since the one you had on now was beginning to fall apart.

you walked inside, the cool ac of the store refreshing your hot skin, you walked over to the necklace section and began to scan the different necklaces on the shelves,

meanwhile, niki and jake were on the other side of the shop,

jake forced niki to come with him to go shopping for their last day in the US, they had one more show tonight then they were leaving tomorrow morning,

and they’ve been running around all over place, store to store, buying things left and right, but they were having fun,

but now niki was tired, but since jake was taking forever looking at rings from the display, niki groaned and checked the time on his phone, “bro.” he mumbled, jake looked up and chuckled, “5 mins!” jake held up 5 fingers, niki rolled his eyes and decided to walk around to pass time.

as he walked over to the other side of the store, his eyes was stopped on what he thought, was the prettiest girl he’s ever saw.

it was you.

you were standing with two different necklaces in your hands, eyes shifted back and forth on the both to see which one you’d pick. your hair laid perfectly and framed your face in all the right ways.

he truly thought you were beautiful,

obviously, he’s seen several different pretty girls, at concerts, interactions with fans, or even when he’s casually shopping,

but you.. he’s never seen someone so beautiful like you, doe brown eyes, and your outfit was so adorable to him.

he quickly looked away not to make anything awkward if you were to look up, jake then walked over to niki and tapped his shoulder , “why’d you walk off?” he asked, niki looked at jake, then back at you, his ears going all red

jake took the hint, nodding slowly with a smile, he nudged niki, basically telling him to go talk to you, niki shook his head, “my.. my english.. it’s not the best.” niki sighed,

he assumed you were american, or atleast really good at speaking english, since they were in the US and you’re here.

“what do you wanna say?” jake asked.

“uh..” niki rubbed his neck, then shrugged, jake chuckled, “say she’s pretty.. and ask for her number maybe?” jake says, “ask.. for her number?” niki raised and eyebrow, and jake nod. niki felt his palms sweating.

“so say.. ‘hey, you’re really pretty, could i have your number?’” jake says, niki listened to his words clearly,

“hey.. you are- pretty. can i have you—?” he tilt his head, “number.” jake finished, “can u have your number.” niki nods, jake nod as well, “yup! you got it. now go do it!” jake nudged niki, niki let out a breath as jake backed away to watch from afar.

niki cleared his throat and rubbed his palms on his jean jacket before stepping up to you slowly, your head lifted, eyes drifting away from the necklaces and to the handsome guy in front of you.

and you didn’t wanna stare too much, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. he was so beautiful.

his dark jet blue hair laid perfectly over his eyes, his moles all over his face, and his fashion sense, he was so handsome.

“hey..” he says quietly, holy shit was he about to ask you out?

“may i— no.. you’re really pretty..” he says, but he sounds unsure. you immediately could tell english wasn’t his first language, but you smiled at his desire to talk to you anyways.

“thank you.” you smile softly, and he smiled back, before chuckling and rubbing his neck, “can i— can i have your.. number..?” he cleared his throat, and your eyes widened.

you couldn’t believe someone so beautiful like him was asking YOU for your number. “oh.. yes! sure.” you nod, after realizing how long you left him on ‘delivered’.

niki nod and chuckled nervously again, stumbling to get his phone from his jean pocket and handing it to you,

you stared at the phone, ‘Enter Pin’

you giggled awkwardly and showed him he had to put his pin in first, “ah.. sorry.” he face palmed himself before quickly putting the pin in and going to the number dial.

you smiled at his cuteness before typing in your number, and saving your contact name as y/n. niki tried not to stare at you as you saved your contact, but you were so pretty, he stole little glances at you whenever you weren’t looking too much.

you then handed him back his phone, he looked at the screen, eyes drifting to see your name saved at the top of the chat,

“y/n..” he mumbled to himself, “pretty..” he smiled up at you, you felt your face heat up and looked away, “thank you.. what’s your name?” you ask.

“nishi- uh.. it’s niki.” he nods, you smiled, niki was such a nice name you thought, he then looked at the two necklaces you were holding up.

he then grabbed the one with a dark brown pendant, holding it up to your eyes, “it- it’s matching your.. your eyes.” he chuckled, his smile growing as his ears went red,

you covered your face as you giggled. he was cute.

“i’ll get this one then.” you nod and grabbed that necklace and put the other one back, he nod, “okay uh.. i’ll see— it was nice talking.. meeting? ah this is too hard.” he groaned and shut his eyes, you just giggled softly watching how determined he was to talk to you in english.

“it was nice meeting you.. y/n.” he nod and sucked in his lips, “nice meeting you too niki.” you shot him a smile before walking away to check out,

as soon as you walked away, niki rubbed his temples, he felt like he totally embarrassed himself but, deep down you thought he was so cute.

jake ran up, “how’d it go?” jake says, eyebrows raised.

“good.. i- think?” niki shrugged, jake chuckled and pat his shoulder, “you got her number atleast bro!” jake hyped him up, which made niki smiled.

he got a pretty girls phone number, and he was definitely gonna look forward to texting you after tonight’s show.

with the use of google translation of course..

a/n: hi guys!! i’m so so sorry for how inactive i’ve been, it’s been a while since i wrote anything so i hope this isn’t too bad :( if u have any more ideas for me to write, pls send me a request!

tags: @certified-ni-ki-lover @noblub-4ulolz @yourmyst4r @vixialuvs @ni-ki-ismyluv @judeduartewannabe @soobs-things @en-chantedtomeetyou @definitelynotherr @heyniki @wntersm @geniejunn @pkjay @baevsxii @k1ttylvr @geniejunn @pkjay

[yandere-romanticaa]

I really enjoy the idea of a man like Ayato going into a tea house for some fine entertainment. The entire event is primarily disguised as a business dinner, but the Yashiro Commissioner knows better. He has been rubbing shoulders with this type crowd ever since he was a tiny lad. Besides, the eagerness which his dignitaries display is far too obvious to hide. They cover their grins behind their long sleeves, eyes gleaming with excitement and thrill at the thought of tonight's prospects.

Truthfully, Ayato was just as much of a savage beast as the men around him.

The key difference was that he was better in concealing his more perverse nature.

With a serene smile Ayato enjoyed the show, his eyes never leaving your figure, not even once. It was obvious that you were new amongst the girls, their saccharine grins far too picture perfect to be natural. You swished and swayed your body to the soft drums, making extra sure to highlight the best parts of your body as the table filled with customers in front of you cheered each of you all on, happily tossing shiny Mora in the air.

It was so hard to focus under Ayato's gaze. You knew who he was, everyone knew who he was. After the dance the ladies from the establishment cornered you, asking you questions on what the nature of your relationship was with the handsome commissioner. They advised you to stay docile and sweet in his presence, that you should never make a fuss and by doing so, not only will you never go hungry ever again, all sorts of doors could open up as well.

As expected, Ayato had ended up summoning you for a private show.

It was a very hush hush affair, with him being the only person in the room. He greeted you with tea, cakes and all sorts of tiny gifts which he had prepared before hand. By the end of the evening, you were no better than honey in his hands, hanging onto his every single word and whim, catering to his every desire he could come up with, no matter how small or silly it may be.

Ayato found himself enjoying how free you were, how open you were with your heart and desires. It was refreshing, like sweet spring air after a dark storm and he soaked it up like a sponge. The entire nature of this relationship was also beyond thrilling as it allowed him to unwind after a long and hard day of work.

However, he knew better than anyone that most things in life don't last forever. He could continue to play coy only for so long and since Ayato was not in the mood for games, he decided the best course of action to take was to just buy you out. He had the money and you would surely enjoy the comfort he would provide for you.

It was an ideal situation, truly.

He sat you down and shared his plans, eager to see a happy grin on your face as you chant Thank you, Master Ayato! over and over, as you tripped on your feet in a rush to embrace him.

Ayato typically likes surprises. They keep things fun and interesting, but the one you told him was anything but.

With confidence, you told him that you had no desire to stop working in this place, shamelessly admitting that you enjoyed making the various clientele satisfied with your services, regardless of how dirty it could be. The freedom, the pleasure, it was too much to give up.

His lips formed into a wicked little grin as his felt his heart beat through his chest. In a way, he admired your attitude. It was dazzling just how bold you had become and how you were so unafraid of him.

After that night, you figured that you would never see the man ever again.

Days went on, customers came and went and there was no sign of your dazzling commissioner. That did not stop the whispers and rumors from spreading like wildfire, particularly from the more devious or jealous women which you worked with. Venom would coat their words as they would eagerly remind you of just how you had cost them one of, if not the best customer in the entire nation.

It was difficult to tell whether or not they were celebrating this fact of it they were legitimately upset with you. However, this storm would soon come to pass, or so you had hoped. You always found it a little odd how Master Ayato had just left you to your own devices, how he hadn't bothered to pull any strings or just flat out threaten you for disobeying him. Most men in his position could afford such a luxury because the fallout would be next to none.

It would cost him nothing to just toss you onto the cold, dark street like a wet dog. He would not even need to break a single sweat to make you fall apart.

But your pride was too strong. It burned deep in your belly, the desire to spread your wings and do as you wished. Mora was the key to solve all of your problems and in due time, more than enough was going to be saved for any possible endeavor of yours. On several different occasions you had confessed to Master Ayato that you had wished to buy better make up, prettier clothes and a better house than you had already owned. Not to mention your unyielding wish to explore the world, to see step foot into each nation and see their glory with your own two eyes. You wished to sip on fine Mondstatd wine, to see the bright lanterns in Liyue, to watch the night sky in Snezhnaya.

And he had listened patiently to you, soaking in each word. He would pat you across the head or pinch your cheek and mutter how one day he was sure that all of that would come true.

People always did say that a person ought to be careful for what they wished for. Why?

Because they might just get their wishes granted.

On a chilly autumn morning, shouts rang loudly from outside of your establishment. Confusion was written on everyone's faces as they stared at the main entrance, trying to figure out who was causing the commotion.

Suddenly, the door was kicked down with such brute force that you could not even gasp, the wood simply breaking away from the hinges. Soldiers in armour filled the room, weapons in hand as they shouted about some arrests being made.

It was hard to focus with the commotion around you.

The soldiers were brutes, kicking away and smashing everything in sight. Fine paintings and scrolls were all over the floor like trash, the dashing kimonos and dresses snatched from their stations by feebleminded men, none of which cared for your safety and security.

Cries filled the air the head of the establishment was dragged by two soldiers, their arms wrapped tightly around the woman as she begged and pleaded for mercy, forgiveness and everything in-between. The pristine makeup she had so tirelessly worked on was but a fleeting memory, leaving only large traces of inky black mascara falling down her pale cheeks and messy blood red lipstick strewn across her tiny lips.

It felt like a nightmare come to life.

Like a vicious snake, a handsome man in white garbs had slithered inside the room, his steps so quiet that not even the wind could sense him coming. He clapped a few times, the pristine glove on his hands shining underneath the morning sun as the Yashiro Commissioner stared down each person in the room, his sea blue eyes laced with mock pity.

His voice filled the air to a suffocating degree, so much so that it made you choke on your own breath. There he was, Kamisato Ayato in the flesh, standing proud and strong, like an untouchable arrow seeking its target. He was so charming, so convincing that if you hadn't known better, you too would have bought into his lies.

How could someone so handsome be so adept at spewing such filth? Even as he accused your boss of various crimes, his voice was nothing less than kind and concerned.

He felt less like a man and more like a god. A twisted blend of mercy and cruelty who had been brought down from the heavens to cast judgment on mere mortals such as yourself.

In a flash, his eyes locked in on yours and it was all too clear on what he was aiming for. His gaze was deceitfully sweet but underneath that handsome gaze was an ever growing desire to seek, trap and possibly even maim.

Ayato always thought of himself as at least somewhat of a civil man but not even he was immune to the most basic of human desires. Each man who walked the earth was a beast, it just took some longer to wake up and realize that truth.

Kamisato Ayato had bared his fangs and shot you a grin, not even shying away from his true motives. He never lied when he said that he thought that your dreams were going to come true one day.

He merely left out the part that he was going to be the one who would get you there.

[rueclfer]

Fake Dating Pt 2 // Bakugou

a/n thank you for loving the first part so much! i hope you love this fluffy, wholesome moment as well :'-)

-

You wake up with a sour taste in your mouth. The headache wasn't so splitting thanks to the amount of water you had been forced to chug the night before, but beyond that, every other memory of last night seemed hazy.

I'm home... It's 9am...I'm in my bed, and I'm safe.

You release a sigh of relief and rub your eyes of the morning grogginess. You scroll through your phone, trying to replay the contents of last night, until you get to the bottom of your conversation with Katsuki. You suddenly remember why you started drinking so much in such a short amount of time in the first place.

You kissed him. You kissed him and you ran away because you couldn't deal with your feelings, and now you're here having to pray the memory away. Maybe you could play it off as a part of the bit? Surely, he would understand the drastic measures you needed to take to ensure that no one else from the other classes around would bother him anymore.

You smother a pillow into your face and scream in frustration as well as cringing at yourself, all while trying to remember the way his lips felt against yours in the back or your head.

"FUCK!" You exclaim loudly, throwing the pillow across the room.

Immediately, your bedroom door swings open, causing you to scream at the sudden intrusion.

"Jesus fucking christ, Y/N. What happened?!" Katsuki comes in, holding the metal bar from your towel holder, with only his boxers on.

You were going to throw up. Yup. You were 100% going to throw up and then throw yourself out the window.

You immediately cover your eyes with your hands.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" You scream back.

He had probably only been around to your apartment a few times with the others, but he clearly made himself comfortable.

"How the fuck do you think you got home last night?" He sighs, lowering his guard and makeshift weapon. "I was scared you were going to throw up in your sleep or something so I crashed on the couch... and used your shower."

You two stare at each other for a moment. You noticed his hair was still wet with droplets of water falling off onto his shoulders and chest. You tried not to stare and to maintain eye contact, but he was quite literally shirtless... and in his boxers...in your room... alone.

Realization finally hits you.

"Did you change me out of my clothes?" You slowly say, looking down at your pajama shirt and shorts that had replaced last night's outfit.

He pressed his lips together. "Yeah, but the lights were off."

You face flares with heat.

"Katsuki." You groan in your hands with embarrassment. "What the fuck?"

"What do you mean, what the fuck? Isn't that the polite thing to do? I didn't even look and I took your makeup off too, you're fucking welcome." He rolls his eyes.

"In return, I'm stealing your All Might band tee."

"Fine, dumbass. Top drawer on the far right." You huff.

"I know." He digs through the drawer, pulls out the tee and slides it over his head before making his way to your bed.

"Aht aht! What are you doing?" You say, threatening to throw another pillow at him.

"Didn't you want to talk about last night?" He smirks knowingly. "A refresher perhaps?"

You groan and rub your temples. "You're so annoying." You mutter. "Okay, the kiss. Let's talk about the kiss because if I have to talk- or even think about it anymore after this, I might just explode."

"Mmm okay. The kiss." He begins, flopping down on your bed and propping himself up with his elbow. "And before we continue, do you happen to remember everything else that happened after you scurried off in embarrassment?"

You froze. Everything else? What else was there to discuss besides the kiss?

"I mean yeah, kinda?" You try to recall. "We kissed, I went to go get a drink, got drunk in the bathroom, and then you came and took me home?" You open your phone to show him your text conversation. "What else was there?"

A smile grew on his face. "Angel face, I hate to break it to you but I don't think the kiss was the main event of the night."

Panic starts to set in. "We didn't hook up, did we?"

"No. I wouldn't do that to you, one. And two, I'm sure you'd be able to feel it if we did." He smirks.

You slam a pillow down on his face. "Stop fucking around with me! If not that, then what is it? Because you're scaring me now, Katsuki. Did I go streaking through the house? Did I get in a fist fight with someone? Did I confess my undying love to someone?"

"Not to that dramatic extent, but yeah pretty much." He shrugs.

"I'm going to fucking choke you out." You gripped the comforter in frustration "YEAH PRETTY MUCH TO WHICH PART?"

There was a beat of silence between you two, but your heart was racing out of your chest.

"It's not a big deal....if you don't want it to be a big deal, but in your drunken state, you essentially told me that you had feelings for me." He says, pressing his lips together trying to anticipate your reaction.

Your mouth gape open, and the air from your lungs expel. "I need to give me line by line breakdown of what the fuck I said last night."

It felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Not only did you embarrass yourself, but you had also managed to ruin your dynamic with Katsuki in the span of a few drunken hours.

"Well when I found you, you were pissed at me for no reason. So I asked you if it was because you kissed me- because again, how the fuck does it make sense that you're mad at ME when you were the one that- anyways besides that, I asked you, and you started crying and shit and then told me you LIKE-liked me." He says, all while fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "That's pretty much it, but imagine that you're full on crying and snotting all over me and in hysterics ya know."

You were silenced. You had terribly fucked up and knew that there was no way you could backtrack. You had complicated feelings about Katsuki and your arrangement for a while, but accepted its fate of ending with you two drifting back to friends as soon as you no longer needed each other's services.

"I really don't want you to freak out about this, okay?" He fills in the silence. "I get it, you were drunk so it's probably some bullshit. Tell me it's not true and we can pretend like it didn't happen."

Your heart ached. You did want this to go away, but at the same time if you don't take this chance to tell him about your feelings, you'll end up having to choke it down until you're forced to get over it in secret.

"Don't hate me." You say. "Please don't hate me."

"Tell me." He quietly says, almost holding his breath.

You shove your face into your hands. "It's so fucking complicated because of the fake relationship stuff. It's all supposed to be for show and to help each other out, but fuck it feels so real sometimes and I constantly remind myself that it's not, but...it feels REAL."

You finally look up at him. You couldn't quite read his expression- it was almost upset? Maybe pained?

"You look mad. Please don't be upset at me. Maybe we shouldn't do this fake dating thing anymore, and I'm sorry because I know we kind of needed each other for it, but I don't think I can stand faking it when it doesn't feel fake anymore."

He lets out a long breath of air. "Fuck okay so... you have feelings for me. Like real feelings outside of whatever this thing is that we're doing.

You cringe. "I have real feelings for you-I like-like you, or whatever the fuck I said last night. And I hate you too for making me go to that party and talking to and touching me like that and letting me cry to you about this just for it to all spill out now."

"Dammit, Y/N" He mutters, rolling off your bed and pacing around the room. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect things to get out of hand like this, and if I knew sooner or caught onto any hints, I would've done something about it earlier."

To say you were devastated was an understatement. You told him you had feelings for him, and he told you he was sorry. You couldn't be surprised. There was a reason why he needed a fake girlfriend so bad. He wasn't that guy to care for superficial things like romance and relationships and just needed to use you as a cover to stop people from bothering him about it, and vice versa.

"Don't be sorry. Really, it's not your fault." You wave off, your expression hardening. "We had an agreement, and I crossed that line. It is what it is."

"So now what? Where does that leave us?" He stops and looks at you.

You couldn't help but scoff. "There's no us, Katsuki. It was all for show. We tell everyone we 'broke up' and move on- that's it. We can go back to being friends, or acquaintances, or whatever the fuck we were before we started doing all this."

He blankly stares at you. You saw the gears turning in his head, his furrowed brows deep in thought made it look like he was trying to solve the most impossible equation, when in reality it was this poor boy's brain trying to process his emotions.

"Fuck, wait, I think I fucked up." He begins, a blush suddenly flooding his cheeks. "When I said I would've done something about it earlier, I meant telling you that..um ditto?" He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

You shoot him a blank stare. "Use your words, Katsuki. What the fuck does that even mean?"

He dramatically groans into his hands. "Fuck!" He starts pacing around once again. "I don't want to stop being with you, okay? And I know that shit is complicated, but I think I want it to work out, but... for real this time."

A beat of silence passes while you process.

"Oh.. so you... like me?" You were appalled.

"Like-like." He confirms.

Here you guys were, two emotionally-constipated people who had just confessed to one another trying to figure out how to go about this situation next.

"And you realized this when?"

"Right now when you were pissing me off and saying that we had to break up." He kneels down on the floor, next to the bed and right beside you.

"You realize that if we start dating for real, you're going to have to be an actual boyfriend? And do boyfriend things? Not just be my fake boyfriend who is only ever in my presence when we're at a function together or with our friends?"

"Is that not what I've already been doing?" He scoffs. "I drive you places, call you pretty, watch movies, cuddle, hold your hand, and everything in between and more?"

You roll your eyes. "But that's always been for show."

"And for my own pleasure." He deadpans. "With or without an audience, I liked doing all of that shit with you."

He suddenly reaches over and grabs your hand, which was no surprise as sweaty as yours. "Hands held, and we're in private. Good start, yeah?"

A smile grows on your face. "You're such a loser."

"Yours."

"Right." You blush. "But don't expect me to give in so easily. You need to take me on dates and stop being mean to me and saying that I laugh like a goose and shit."

"Anything you want, angel face, and I'll give it to you- even with your honking."

-

taglist: @im-lost-please-help @babycheech @cupkiki @html-nae @zz-snow-zz @svnnysidez @v3n7s @lovra974 @yappydoo @canarystwin @liluvtojineteyam @jaxyy219 @aespie @starynigvt @m-0ona @fictonal-men-dum @simp-plague @buggie07 @yendysdys

[waves-against-a-cliff]

After the End - Post-Apocalypse Omegaverse AU

Summary - The final obstacles.

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader, injuries, masturbation

Masterlist

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For the next two nights they dote on Gaz and Soap, the two most injured of their pack, despite their grumblings and huffs. Though Soap can’t hide his chuffs as well as Gaz can and he earns a cheeky wink from his fellow mask alpha. Of course sitting in enemy woods is less then ideal while getting cozy and romantic but that hardly stops Gaz from being sat in Price’s lap while he dotes on his fellow alpha.

“Price, really this isn’t necssary,” Gaz insists but Price shakes his head and pushes what’s left of his rations for the night to Gaz.

“Please Kyle?” He damn nears begs for his partnered alpha to take the last half of the portions.

“John-” Gaz sighs and gingerly takes the portions from Price. “You know you’re playing dirty with those puppy eyes,” he snips but Price smiles and gives Gaz a little nuzzle to which he chuckles from.

Soap meanwhile is completely passed out, leaning against Ghost with his head on his shoulder and his injured shoulder rebandaged and treated with some salve they had learned to make from a fellow group of survivors. Sometimes Gaz wonders if they made it or if they ended up zombie flesh. They were really kind people. The kind don’t often make it he thought blearily as his eyes began to droop before a familiar scent filled his nose.

He immediately perks up and sniffs the air a few more times before his head snaps to the north where the wind is blowing from. “Do you smell that John? Simon?” He asks and gets silent nods as Soap wakes from his slumber as well.

“Aye, I smell it too,” Johnny says and shares a look with Ghost. “We’re close.”

“That we are. What do you say men? Ready to get going tomorrow at sun rise?” Price asks and the three other men give their affirmations. “Tomorrow at sun rise it is.”

The sun rising the next morning never felt so refreshing. Gaz, though he hardly slept because he kept catching small whiffs of the scent on the wind just enough for him. Just for him, it felt like a sirens call. Come to me Kyle, the scent whispers and there’s an extra sweet tinge to it around the edges, that if Gaz is recalling correctly means one thing and one thing only.

Heat.

They traversed together, practically holding hands. Hell, Soap might’ve actually held hands with Ghost for a little while until Gaz started to look a little too closely. They were not going to be split up this time by different traps or scents. They followed Gaz who was the one who was leading them towards where their precious, if not sadistic, omega was. Several times they, mostly Soap, almost fell for another trap but was yanked back by a member of their pack.

They were silent otherwise, their boots crunching the snow beneath them and it made some of them wince. Well, it made Ghost wince as he thought about how important it might be to get the element of surprise on such a vicious omega. Ghost had never encountered an omega so vicious and territorial. Then again, he thought, I’ve never met an omega who’s been alone for years. Truly alone.

Ghost could vaguely recall how he had been once he had been picked up in Mexico after digging himself out of that grave. Violent, baring his teeth at anyone who came near and he had needed to be sedated by the end of it. An unpleasant experience overall. As they walk, he tries to relate that to the omega. Alone in the woods for years, maybe even years before the end of the world as they knew it. It had taken them a while to get this far up north after being stranded in the country side of France.

He did not want to think about that time.

Then as they pushed through a few bushes there it was. A log cabin, the chimney did not emit smoke. “Clever girl,” Price comments as he observes the state of the cabin. “Windows boarded up and I’m willing to bet there’s a bar or something preventing us from opening the door easily,” he says, mostly to himself before he turns to the rest of his pack.

You can hear them. Even though they tread quietly, underneath them you can hear every foot step after they finally opened the door. Certainly surprised to find it only locked. You wince as you think about having to replace that lock and venturing into town again. It’s such a long hike and you’ve been worn through the last few days.

The never ending anxiety and… well you’ve been trying to avoid the truth of it all. But it seems impossible at this point. And this on coming heat. The cotton stuffed into your nose only does so much and your inner omega whines and begs to take it out. To just breathe in their scents, that aroma that makes your head spin and heat go straight to your core.

Against your better judgement you do so. As if your hands aren’t your own, you take out the cotton stuffed up your nose and breathe in deeply. Their scents, this close, hits like a freight train. You cover your mouth right before a whine escapes and you rub your thighs together as an ache between them forms. You can’t possibily be quiet enough to eek another orgasm out, you’ve already had five in the last two hours. You keep waiting to hit a wall but it doesn’t come and the ache persists. Like an itch you cannot scratch yourself. Your omega purrs again at the thought of one of them. Or two. Hell maybe even three of them surviving the traps you have laid out for them in the cabin.

One last test, your omega purrs as you slide a hand between your legs as you lay in the nest you had built a day before. One last test and we can see who is fit to be our alpha. Or alphas.

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[midastouch013]

It's the little things

Summary: You're new to the avengers, and kind of shy, and the redheaded assassin doesn't seem to quite like you, but you're knack of observing things might just turn things in your favour.

Warnings: None. Just fluff

P.S: If I reuse the same gifs, I'm sorry I have the memory of a goldfish

---

The rain pounded relentlessly against the roof of the safe house, a stark contrast to the tense silence inside. You sat on the worn couch, legs crossed and arms wrapped around yourself. Wanda stirred a pot of soup in the tiny kitchen, humming softly. She'd warmed up to you quickly after the mission’s chaos had forced you three into this situation. Her occasional giggles and light-hearted teasing made you feel less like the outsider you’d feared you'd be.

“You really thought hiding behind that vending machine was a solid plan?” Wanda quipped, her eyes sparkling as she turned to you.

“Hey, it worked for a solid three minutes,” you shot back, smirking. “And if it weren’t for your dramatic hand-flinging, maybe it would’ve lasted longer.”

She snorted. “Dramatic? That saved your butt!”

You two dissolved into laughter, the sound filling the small room. Across from you, Natasha sat in a chair near the window, her posture rigid as she scanned the perimeter. Her face was unreadable, cold as ever. The sharp angles of her cheekbones caught the dim light, and you couldn’t help but admire her profile, even if she barely spared you a glance.

The truth was, you had a crush on Natasha Romanoff long before joining the team. It wasn’t just her skill or her looks—though those were enough to make anyone swoon. It was the quiet strength she carried, the sharpness in her eyes that hinted at stories untold.

Wanda caught your gaze and whispered, “She’s not as scary as she looks.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, watching Natasha clean her weapons in the corner, her focus laser-sharp.

Wanda smiled. “It’s the little things with her. You’ll figure it out.”

That phrase stuck with you.

--

Over the next few days, you began to notice the small things about her. Natasha preferred her tea plain, no sugar or milk. She read mission files with the same focus most people reserved for life-or-death situations. And she had this subtle way of scanning the room, always aware of every detail.

You started adjusting, not to impress her, but because it felt natural. When Wanda offered to make tea, you quietly took over and brewed it the way Natasha liked. When she frowned at the creaky floorboards by the window, you shifted your usual spot to stand there instead.

She noticed.

At first, it was subtle—her eyes lingering on you a little longer, her voice softening when she spoke your name. You didn’t push; you let her set the pace. And while Wanda got to see your sarcastic, funny side, you approached Natasha with quiet humor and calmness.

“You’re not like the others,” Natasha said one evening, breaking the silence as you sat across from her cleaning your gear.

“Is that a compliment?” you asked, glancing up with a grin.

Her lips twitched. “It’s an observation. You don’t try too hard. That’s…refreshing.”

“High praise from the great Natasha Romanoff,” you teased lightly, earning a genuine smirk.

---

Over the next few days, you started noticing those little things. How Natasha always reached for the mug with the chipped handle, the one that everyone else ignored. How she’d subtly adjust her position so she was always facing the door, even when she sat down to eat. How she hated noisy chatter but didn’t seem to mind your sarcastic quips or quiet observations.

You started doing the little things for her without thinking—grabbing that chipped mug for her in the morning, leaving a knife sharpened just the way she liked it, or quietly placing her favorite pack of gummies that somehow was stocked plenty in a safe house instead of food like pasta, next to her seat when she’d been brooding for too long.

At first, Natasha didn’t say anything. But the first time she found that gummies, she looked at you, her expression softer than you’d ever seen. “Thanks,” she said, and it wasn’t just polite—it was genuine.

-

By the third day, the tension in the safe house had lessened. Wanda was her usual cheery self, but now Natasha didn’t seem so icy. She even joined in on some of the banter, albeit briefly.

One evening, as the three of you sat around the small table eating dinner, Natasha surprised you by asking, “Why don’t you talk as much as the others?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You want me to be more like Tony?”

She smirked. “God, no.”

“Didn’t think so.”

That earned you a quiet laugh—just a breath, really, but it was the most you’d ever gotten from her. Wanda shot you a knowing grin.

“It’s the little things,” she mouthed.

----

Back at the compound, the small things continued. You made a habit of noticing Natasha’s preferences. If you were grabbing snacks from the kitchen, you’d snag her favorite protein bar without being asked. When she trained late at night, you’d show up to spar—not to prove yourself, but because you knew she liked a challenge.

She, in turn, surprised you with her own gestures. She’d sit next to you during team movie nights, her silent presence enough to make your heart race. She laughed at your sarcastic remarks, those rare chuckles making the room feel brighter. And when you trained together, she corrected your form with a patience you hadn’t expected, her hands firm but gentle.

Six months passed in a blur of missions, training, and quiet moments. You’d become close—closer than you ever thought possible with someone like Natasha.

--

Six months later, after a particularly grueling training session, you found her sitting outside on the balcony. The compound was quiet, the sky painted with stars. Nerves twisting your stomach into knots. Natasha was leaning against the railings, her attention focused on the rare seight of stars on New York's skyline.

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, stepping out with your usual blend of sarcasm and slight awkwardness.

She glanced at you and nodded. “Suit yourself.”

You sat down beside her, the silence stretching comfortably between you.

“You know,” you started, fidgeting slightly, “I never thought I’d actually get to know you. You seemed…untouchable.”

Her lips twitched in that familiar almost-smile. “And now?”

“Now I know you’re just as human as the rest of us,” you teased, your grin softening when she looked at you. “But better at hiding it.”

Her gaze lingered on you, something unreadable in her expression.

“What about you?” she asked. “What did I miss about you?”

You snorted. “Oh, not much. Just your run-of-the-mill awkward, sarcastic mess.”

Her laugh was quiet, but it warmed you.

After a moment, you took a deep breath, heart pounding. “Natasha, can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head, curious. “Go ahead.”

“Would you want to go out sometime?” The words tumbled out faster and messier than you intended. “Like, us. Not us as in the team, just us. I mean, just…you and me?”

For a moment, her face was unreadable. Then, to your surprise, she smiled—a real, genuine smile—and leaned in. Her lips met yours in a kiss that was soft and sure, stealing the breath right out of you.

When she pulled back, her eyes searched yours. “I’d like that,” she murmured, her voice quiet but sincere.

“You notice the little things,” she murmured. “I like that about you.”

And just like that, the phrase took on a whole new meaning.

[foresthyena]

A holiday cream

Pairings: dom!Cait x switch!vi x sub!reader

Warnings: fucking filthy. This is pure smut, with some fluff and a little bit of plot😘 also Cait has a dick and I🩷bushvi. Also reader isn't specified to have a gender, just has a females gentiles

Storyline: Both of your girlfriends do patrols daily, even on holidays. So you decide to be a good lover and get the house ready for when they arrived only for them to arrive more early as a surprise.

You woke up to the house empty, as normal. Even though it was Christmas, you'd hope to be woken up alongside your two most gorgeous partners. But to your not much surprise, they have already been gone. You yawned and sat up rubbing your eyes glancing over at the clock near your bed side. It read, 7:45am, you figured you should get on with your day. Get ready and tidy up the house while putting on the rest of the decorations. So after groaning and complementing life, you head to the bedroom and begin your daily morning routine. As you walk out the bathroom all refreshed and awake, you head down the halls. You always hated these absurdly long halls that never seem to end. Making your way downstairs you head into the kitchen...it was a mess..guessing Vi was the last one to leave in a hurry. You sigh and chuckle to yourself imagining the scene. Grabbing a carton of eggs,some breakfast sassuage and a waffle. You prepare your breakfast until you stumble across a note, from Caitlyn.

- 𝐻𝑖 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑢𝑝, 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦. 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. <3

You read the note and smiled, atleast she remembered to write a sweet note. You sigh and finish your breakfast and sat at the dinner table eating in quiet. Closing your eyes and taking a breath, imagining Vi being the most nastiest eater, eating as if she's been chained up to the bed for a week. And hearing Cait scold her and asking where her manners are. You chuckle and finish your breakfast while cleaning up the kitchen. Glancing at your watch, you figured you should decorate the house already.

After what seemed like forever the house was all ready, all that was left was the front. Which you figured you'd do with your lovers. You smile to yourself proudly and flop down onto the couch yawning. You shift and turn before laying to your side, your front facing the back of the couch. You drift off to sleep, yes it was still pretty early, but hey, you just haveeee to do everything around the house. A deep breath comes from you tell you were sound asleep. Not even 30 minutes go by and the door handle shakes and the door opens. The sound of Vi loud voice booming into the quiet living room, the smell of dirt,sweat and gun powder filling the room. You mumble, but still sound asleep.

"hey princess!! You here!?" Vi shouted out calling for you. When neither girls heard a peep, they looked around. Until Cait grabbed Vi shoulder and urged her to look at the couch. Both girls smiled and looked around, noticing how clean and festive the house looked. Cait leaned down and kissed your forehead before pulling a blanket on top of you. Looking over at Vi the blue haired girl whispered, "let's go shower and give our sweet baby an early gift" Vi nodded and followed behind the taller girl with a smirk. Both arrived to the shared bedroom and headed to their bathroom to get all washed up and ready to treat their special toy.

You were still sound asleep on the couch..that's until you felt a light tap on your shoulder. "Wake up dear, me and Vi have an early Christmas gift for you" you heard a thick british accent with a teasing tone. You yawned and sat up embracing your lover in a tight embrace. "I've missed you" Cait placed a hand on your back rubbing it with a chuckle. "I know dear, but we have something to make it up for you" she'd smirk and stood straight. Curious you got up and followed behind Caitlyn arriving to your bedrooms. Right when you opened the door..Jesus Christ let this not be a dream.. There you saw Vi sat on the bed with some red n white lingerie, her pink bush poking out from the thin slutty thong that just held her figure so delicious. You didn't realize how long you were stareing until you heard a chuckle. "What's wrong princess? Cat got your tongue?" You swallowed hard making eye contact with this goddess. You heard shuffling to your right only to see Caitlyn taking off her own clothes leaving her in a matching lingerie like Vi. Jaw dropping. You practically drool, seeing your two women in the most amazing lingerie all for you. Oh how you hoped this wasn't a dream. "Why so shy bunny? Strip and get on the bed for mommy" you nod and immediately undress without hesitation, you heard Cait chuckle and can sense Vi smirking. You get on the bed, on your back leaning up on your elbows watching them. Caitlyn made her way towards you and Vi, giving a small glare to you before leaning in to kiss Vi. Their lips in sync as small whimpers leave Vi scarred lips. You bite on your own lips watching them, nearly eating each other's faces off. Saliva slowly dripping out the corners of their mouths, Caitlyn groaning. You glared down to see her rock hard member in that tiny thong she was wearing. You could see the tip peaking out, the head all swollen and red leaking with pre-cum. You whimpered hoping to just give it a taste. As if she could read your mind, the two girls pulled away from each other with a small pant. "Oh is someone eager now?" Caitlyn said looking you dead in the eyes with licking her lips. "Does someone wanna help mommy cum?" She'd tease, referring to her dick. "Then come over here and suck it whore" Your face turned into a deep red as you nod, you begin crawling towards the taller dominant. Your face just inches away from her waist where you could see her member twitching in the small thin pair of clothing. She smirks down at you and pulls the thong to the side, her cock in full view. Drool fills your mouth as you quickly stick your tongue out to lick at the salty tip. Caitlyns head falls back with a soft groan, your tongue working quickly to savor the taste. Vi places her rough huge hands on your back and coos in your ear saying how good of a job you're doing while you take the cock deep into your mouth. Caitlyns hand falls onto your head and grabs onto your hair holding you still. You take this as your warning for what's about to come, she roughly fucks your throat. Not giving you a chance to breath or process what's happening. The tip bruising the back of your throat as groans and moans falls from the blue haired girls mouth. All you can do is gag and take it, tears filling your eyes as Vi wipes them away rubbing soothing circles onto your back. "Shh shh, you can take it princess. C'mon be a good bunny for us and take it hm?" She'd whisper into your ear, this only made the heat between your legs pool up.

A/N: yeah uh, idk if I should finish this so if this gets maybe 100 likes then I'll finish it 😓

[nochedie]

sleepless | dean winchester 🌙

pairing: dean winchester x reader

genre: fluff

wordcount: 689

summary: after a night of staring at the ceiling, drowning in your own thoughts, dean helps you fall asleep

a/n: actually wrote this at 3am last night because i couldn’t sleep! i haven’t written for dean yet and i really wanted to show him love so here’s a short little drabble! listened to simulation swarm by big thief while writing 🫶🏼

2am.

your bare feet lightly padded across the laminate of the motel room floor, and you felt around to help you navigate the poorly lit room.

you flinched as your hip bumped into the table, making a bit of noise. you turned to look in the direction of the bed you got out of to grab a drink of water, and through the slight illumination from the moon through the sheer curtain, you could see dean stirring slightly and you hoped you hadn’t woken him.

the motel you were staying in had a small kitchenette with a refrigerator, and you had put a water bottle in there earlier in the day to cool. you grabbed the water bottle and savoured the feeling of the liquid on your dry throat, instantly refreshing. you took the bottle back over to the bed and placed it on the bedside table before trying your best to get back into bed without making any noise.

“you okay, baby?” dean spoke, voice even deeper than usual with sleep.

“yeah, i just needed a drink. go back to sleep, love.” you placed a hand on his hair, brushing your fingers through until you heard his breathing deepen as he fell back into a peaceful slumber.

you stared up at the ceiling, willing your eyes to shut.

3am.

you were still wide awake, having not slept a wink. you turned to dean, still fast asleep. you could just about see his silhouette in the darkness, and you leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

3:30am.

dean began to stir beside you when you moved to grab the water bottle from the bedside table.

almost instinctively, and still half asleep, he reached out an arm to drape across your waist.

you paused your movements, frustrated with yourself for making too much noise and disturbing him.

“c’mere.” dean tugs your form slightly, prompting you to put down the water bottle and slip back down beside him.

“can’t sleep?” he tries to suppress a yawn.

“not really.” not at all, in fact. you hadn’t slept a wink all night and you didn’t even feel close to falling asleep.

one of dean’s hands found yours, and he placed a gentle kiss to your neck. “anything i can do?”

“no.. it’s alright.” you turned your body to face him, shuffling as close as you could as dean wraps you up in his arms.

“have you slept at all tonight?” he questioned.

“no…”

“baby…” dean brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “is there something wrong?”

“there’s nothing wrong, really. it’s just… i don’t know, i guess i’ve been a bit more stressed than usual lately.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” his tone was soft and concerned. he wasn’t berating you, but rather worried that he had done something wrong or that you didn’t trust to tell him about any of your worries, big or small.

“i didn’t want to bother you with it…”

“you couldn’t bother me if you tried, sweetheart.”

“i worry about you. i worry about sam and cas. i worry about everybody we’ve ever known. i don’t think i could cope with losing anybody else…” your brain was full and it wouldn’t turn off. countless scenarios playing in your head on a constant loop.

“i worry about that too, baby… but you need your sleep. you must be tired.” truthfully, you were exhausted. but everything was just so loud.. it wouldn’t grant you peace.

dean knew you loved to hear him sing, even though he would only do it once in a blue moon and never in front of anybody but you. feelings of content smothered you as soon as the first note left his lips.

“i close my eyes… only for a moment, and the moments gone…”

after a few moments, the sound of his voice, his touch, his scent, him, muted the sound of your crushing thoughts.

it didn’t take you long after that to finally allow sleep to engulf you. by the end of the song you were fast asleep, your breathing deepening with each passing moment.

“sweet dreams, baby.”

comments, feedback etc always appreciated! thank you for reading!

[sleepymarimo]

୨୧. 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐮𝐩 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥

: ̗̀➛ when was the last time this man got a good night's sleep? pairing: toji x fem!reader. fluff, fluff, fluff...

an: just needed to get this out before i do my hw lol. i picture this as like pre-relationship :P wc: ~600

toji recalls one of the moments he realized he was whipped.

after hopping from place to place, staying in shitty motels and abandoned train stations, he got his first true and proper rest with you.

he’s used to waking up to the sight of an empty bed, a dirty ceiling or, hell, even the open sky when things got really rough.

so when he opens his eyes, refreshed, one of his arms draped across your waist, the assassin is a bit dumbfounded. toji is quick to settle, blinking a couple of times until you come into focus.

“oh, you’re up.” you smile, leaning comfortably against the headboard. "welcome back, sleeping beauty."

why’re you awake? he thinks. usually he’s the one up and at ‘em, rising before the sun.

by the looks of it, you’ve been up for a while. the television was on, playing one of your favorite shows, the volume lowered. you have a mug in your hands, your eyes brighter than any sunrise he’s seen thus far.

he lifts his head and props himself up on one of his elbows, his hair a mess of black strands pointing in all sorts of directions. “yeah.” he yawns, running his fingers across his scalp before he grumbles. “i’m up, i’m up.”

fuck, is this what actual sleep felt like? he hadn’t felt this good in a while.

his eyes catch sight of your alarm clock and he has to rub the excess sleep out of them to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

“eight in the morning?” he sits up, his shoulder brushing against yours as he rests his weight on the headboard. that's a good three, maybe four hours later than he's used to.

you look at him like he has two heads, unable to keep from letting out a light laugh.

"it's not that late." you pause, keeping a tease from slipping past your teeth as your fingers come up to wipe some dried up drool from the scarred corner of his lip. "you were knocked out."

he clicks his tongue, gently swatting your hand away and finishing the job himself. since when did he drool? "yeah, yeah, i'm not a damn baby."

the bed creaks as he adjusts his position, crossing his legs at the ankle and stealing the mug of coffee in your other hand. his nose wrinkles at the sweetness, at that little splash of creamer you usually add.

"you could've fooled me." you retort, taking back your coffee. "plus, it's sunday, so just go back to sleep or something. i already got breakfast on the way."

toji doesn't know what's worse, the fact that you expect him to stay or the fact that, fuck, he wants to.

his response is just a grunt, a stubborn sound of acceptance. the bed is still warm, the company is good and he knows there's no where else he'd rather be.

he'll think about that later, or maybe he wont. for now, he won't deny himself an extra few minutes of rest while you continue to watch your shows.

he lays back down, blanket over his shoulders, and drapes his arm over your lap, head resting against your hip. "you got extra meat, right?" comes his gruff inquiry, more child than man.

"extra meat." you affirm, one hand bringing that sweet caffeine to your lips while the other laxly combs through his hair.

with that, he seems satisfied enough, finding it odd that his head is feeling so heavy. when he drifts off into sleep, his shoulders rising and falling at a steady pace, he dreams of a big breakfast and the promise of a lazy day with you.

[vervainandspritz]

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut

A/N: thanks for reading guys

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

~~

Y/N was never a light sleeper, but this particular time waking up felt way more difficult than usual. Her head was hurting from all the crying and the last thing she could remember was Tommy holding her against his chest and the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his own unique scent before she nodded off, unable to handle the recent events.

“Mrs. Shelby, you're awake” One of the maids spoke up with a gentle smile, putting a steaming tea on the nightstand by her side.

Sitting up, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“I'm not a Shelby” She responded with more annoyance than she'd like.

“Oh” The older woman said with a hint of shame. “My apologies. Mr. Shelby asked to bring you tea and some pain relief tonic,”

Y/N nodded, thanking her quietly before she rose from the bed, looking around. The room looked familiar in a less than pleasurable way, just like the clothes she was wearing. Sighing deeply she walked out of the room, seeing the dark corridor of the places she once called home.

After getting refreshed and dressed, Y/N walked toward the grand staircase. She stopped cold, feeling goosebumps running through her spine in the worst possible way when she saw the monumental portrait of Thomas and her in the stairwell. One she used to see everyday. The eyes on the portrait looked as lively as ever, mocking the pain she held in her chest every time she saw it. There she was, the former lady of the house, laying claim to her domain even from the grave. The longer she stared at her, the more she felt Grace was taunting her. “You may have been his woman once, but I have his heart and his ring on my finger now.” The words rang in her ears, coming from the depths of her memory, loud as the day she heard them for the first time. Y/N couldn't seem to be able to tear her gaze away, silently battling the ghost that seemed to curse her relationship forever.

She stood there for a long moment, immersed in the painting so much that she didn't realise she was being watched.

Thomas stood in the doorway on the other side of the corridor, watching her silently losing the battle as shame gnawed on his insides. He should have thrown it away long ago, but it was the last thing on his mind as he desperately looked for Y/N everywhere. The dead woman on his wall wasn't a big concern.

“You're awake” He spoke up, unable to handle the silence anymore.

She turned around, almost startled, as he caught her staring at her. The first thing she noticed were the glasses on his nose, and she fought against the little smirk that tried to appear on her lips so badly.

“What am I doing here? Where are the boys?” She asked, straight to the point. Thomas shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, knowing she wouldn't be happy with the news.

“Boys are with Frances upstairs, playing.” He responded, looking her in the eyes. “You're not safe outside of Arrow house. You three need to stay here until the vendetta is over.”

“What if you had more men surrounding my flat instead?” Y/N bargained.

“It’s too dangerous and I need my men concentrated not spread out over cities” he replied, already prepared for the questions he knew she'd ask.

She wanted to argue so badly. Y/N wanted to be free from him and the reminders of the past that this house held. But she knew that receiving a black hand was a serious threat she didn’t have the capacity to handle by herself.

“The only reason I'm not leaving right now is because I need to keep them safe.” She said, stepping closer. “...and if anything happens to us, I want you to know that it's all your fault.”

Despite knowing and seeing the pure hatred in her eyes, Thomas could never fully brace himself for the impact of her words.

“Nothing will happen to any of you. I give you my word” He said, quieter this time.

“Your word means nothing to me, Thomas. Just… just stay away from us as much as possible.” Y/N added, wanting to walk away.

“You can't expect me to stay away. They.. are my kids. My sons.” He said suddenly, and the confidence and fierceness of his voice made her stop in her tracks. “I regret losing you every single day. Every day I grieved the loss of my bloody heart, and then I found out there's three I should have been grieving. But you're here, and so are they. So I won't let yo–them go.” He hissed out, almost frantically and the vulnerability in his eyes made her slightly tremble. It hurt even more, because she waited so long to hear.. anything. Any crumb of reassurance would be enough to keep her here, but he didn't say a fucking word.

Straightening her back, Y/N inhaled a deep breath, looking back at the bloody portrait who was witnessing the whole scene. Seconds later she looked at him again, and the fire in his eyes was more lively, outweighing the dead, judgemental stare.

“They won't call you their father. If you break this rule, you won't see us again.”

***

The next day Y/N woke up, bracing herself for another battle as she walked down the stairs and to her surprise, the portrait was… gone. Her heart thumped wildly at the realisation and she couldn't believe her eyes. Suddenly the tension in the house seemed to have lessened.

Walking to the kitchen, she noticed Thomas sitting by the table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette in his hand, as he read the newspaper. It felt weirdly domesticated and the thought alone made her smirk.

“Did the boys eat?” She asked, not sure what to expect.

“Frances fed them an hour ago. Tommy is napping in the living room, and Nick is picking daisies with Mary in the garden.” He responded in a calm tone, not tearing his gaze away from the newspaper.

Silence hung in the air as they each did their own thing

Finishing up her breakfast, Y/N cleared her throat again as she looked at the wall in front of her.

“The portrait is gone” She pointed out in an emotionless voice, not looking at him. A couple longer moments passed before she heard him exhale a cloud of smoke.

“What portrait? He responded, and Y/N’s lips stretched into a subtle smile before she grabbed her plate and walked away.

A couple days later Y/N still avoided him, occasionally getting to talk to John or Arthur, but both of them were distracted by the giant threat hanging over the family. Polly seemed to keep it together the best, coming over whenever she felt like it for some female company.

Y/N said her goodbyes to Polly, going to put the cups into the sink and cleaning the mess after Nick. She wasn't used to having maids doing everything for her, so it was more comfortable to just clean the mess herself. Nick himself was currently spending time with his uncles by the stables, and Tommy was… who knows where.

After cleaning, Y/N went looking for the other boy, asking Frances who just directed her to the little room where the toys were stored.

She expected everything, but not the view she saw arriving in the doorway. Little Tommy sat back on his legs, watching with wide eyes and furiously colouring the different shapes Thomas drew for him.

“Dat?” Tommy asked suspiciously, pointing towards the crooked flower on the paper and glancing at him with big eyes.

“This?” He asked with a grin, “that's a flower” he explained, to which the boy nodded, narrowing his eyes lightly.

“...and dat?!” He asked suddenly in a squeaky tone, seeing the car Thomas drew for him.

“That's a car. Almost” He chuckled, seeing the crooked shapes as he tried his very best.

Tommy nodded, grinning in the same way as his father before glancing at his mum.

“Hi!” He waved, before pointing to the flower again. “fwowa!” he said proudly, pushing his little chest forward.

Thomas just laughed quietly, putting the pencil down.

“Good job, little man” he said, before slowly rising from the floor with a groan.

“Oh God, I'm too old for this” He whispered with a chuckle, glancing at Y/N who wasn't able to suppress the smile on her face after she heard Tommy talk. “Don't smile like that, now it's your turn.” Thomas added, passing by her in the doorway, his shoulder brushing against hers.

***

The next couple weeks were… rougher. Changretta was relentless in his search, which turned into a couple of seriously dangerous situations where John got shot in the chest barely coming out alive. Polly didn't agree with a lot of Thomas' actions, despite his inability to back off right now. He stood his ground, no matter how difficult it was sometimes to keep Y/N inside Arrow house whenever worse moments would arrive. And they did, fairly frequently.

The pull he felt became stronger and stronger, no matter how many daggers she kept throwing. Spewing the words she held deep inside, reminding him of the monster he used to be… or maybe still was? He couldn't tell. The view in the reflection of his mirror was so blurry, that it didn't matter. As long as she saw him to be fit enough to be around boys.

The house was completely quiet as he made his way through the corridor, lacking the usual sounds of kids playing or Y/N walking from one room to the other. Walking past the library, he caught a glimpse of light coming from the room that made him stop in his tracks.

His hands trembled with anxiety. The fear settled in his ribs over three years ago and hasn't left him once, even though they were here.

Thomas was aware of how powerless he was once the vendetta was over. The thought of them leaving the house and never coming back was making his heart squeeze painfully, reminding him of the privilege he once had, but gave it up willingly. The fear was like a loop, tightening around his throat with each passing day as he grew comfortable coming home and seeing them here.

Walking into the library, Thomas was completely quiet, wanting nothing but to see her if it was all he could count on. He was completely unaware of the fact that she always felt his presence. Sometimes letting him stay, and other times making him leave so desperately that made him wonder whether it was possible to day from a broken heart.

Step after step he tried to control his shallow breathing as he finally saw her. Standing by the big shelf, he traced over the backs of books standing there for so long, it felt like they were always there.

“You wouldn't like that one” He spoke up quietly, noticing how she didn't even budge hearing his voice. It took a longer moment before she replied.

“How so?” Her voice was calm, light-hearted as she found herself lost in the countless stories filling up the wooden shelves. The nagging thoughts in his mind disappeared the second he heard her voice.

“Because you don't like uncertainty. It's filled with unanswered questions and has an open ending.” He thought for a moment before replying, well aware of the content of this book, because he read them all. In the moments of despair, trying to hold onto every scrap of feelings in the house so empty, it felt like nobody lived inside.

Sighing deeply, Y/N put the book back in its place, grabbing another one.

“Nobody likes uncertainty, Thomas. Holding onto the moment, unsure of what's to come.” She sighed, hearing his slow footsteps approaching. “A book is just a book. You can close it, and move onto another one anytime. If only life was just as easy.”

Silence in the room caused the whole scenery to become more intimate, unexpectedly even for him. Stopping mere inches behind her, he watched the back of her head for a moment, remembering the nightmares he had every night. Ones where he couldn't reach her, no matter how he tried.

His breath caught in his throat as he slowly raised his hand, moving it closer and closer towards her shoulder. Inches away, he noticed the goosebumps covering her skin. Without looking he reached out to the shelf, grasping onto the book he knew by heart, while his arm brushed against her own.

He stood close, too close, and Y/N knew it too well, yet she couldn't bring herself to make him leave or pull away. The way he trembled as his chest pressed lightly against her back made her stand still.

“You'd love this one” He whispered, not feeling brave enough to speak loudly. The uncertainty they talked about he knew better than anything else.

Her breathing became heavier, feeling him so close, the tingling on her skin she hadn't felt for so long almost made her flinch. Slowly, she turned around facing him.

This, Thomas didn't expect as she suddenly looked up, their eyes meeting in a gaze long forgotten, yet still alive and lively as when they looked for the first time.

“I don't read anymore” She confessed quietly, and his eyes couldn't help but watch her lips intently. The way they wrapped around the words she spoke.

The urge to grab and hold her closer was strong, almost too strong. Tommy tilted his head to the side, getting a better look at her face in the dim light.

“I can read it to you” He offered quietly, as it was the closest she allowed him to… just be near her.

So he waited, scared of ruining the moment as she moved closer. Their noses brushing against each other.

“I wanted you to speak, not read.” The sound of her voice was like the most beautiful music he ever got to listen to, even though the words were far from it. “...but now it's too late, and you're standing too close.” her breath touched his lips, taunting.

…and then she pulled away, leaving him standing there. Slowly making her way out of the library.

“You're cruel” He said, loud enough for Y/N to hear.

***

Y/N opened her eyes suddenly, sitting up as she took a deep breath, desperately trying to blink away the nightmare she had. The clock showed three AM in the morning, and her heart was pounding from the fear she felt. One she rarely felt anymore, feeling as Thomas was taking it over day by day, despite her unwillingness to share anything. Even the broken, ugly parts he ruined.

His cold eyes kept looking at her in the dream, so unfazed by the idea of her absence. The humiliation turned into physical tears rolling down her cheeks as the memories clouded her reasoning.

Getting up from her bed, she remembered the way he touched her. Avoiding her eyes, throwing his head back. Not bothering to bare himself, so eager to take but never give. Forcing her to pour from a completely empty cup.

Her bare feet were cold against the floor as she quickly made her way through the corridor, knowing where she'd find him. Swiftly opening the door to his office, Y/N didn't bother to say a word or wipe her tears away as she quickly walked up, not looking him in the eyes.

“Y/N?” He asked, taking his glasses off and setting them on his desk while she suddenly pulled him back, creating more space to straddle his lap. Tears kept streaming in a smaller amount, but never ending as she ripped his shirt open, baring his chest.

“What are you–” He tried to speak up, but she didn't let him, as she pressed her lips against his so aggressively his breath caught in his throat.

Pulling on his belt she unbuckled it skillfully, a motion she knew too well from all these years ago. The inner pain burned her chest as she kissed and bit him, while pushing his arms away.

“Shut up” She hissed, as the humiliation from the memories took over her mind. The shame of giving and never asking for more. Of being taken and left without any rest. Pulling his pants open she stroked him impatiently, doing just enough to get him going. It wasn't difficult, as he was the only man she ever slept with, knowing his habits and body more than she'd care to admit.

Her nails raked over his throat and chest, ripping a deep groan from his throat.

He didn't dare to ask, feeling and giving everything she wanted to take. Despite the burning, the physical attraction and need she felt was stronger, her arousal glistening and visible as she lined him up with her entrance, not caring enough to be slow or subtle as she sank down on him fully. A subtle moan pushed past her lips as she squeezed her eyes tightly, doing the same thing he used to.

His eyes were wide open, taking the beautiful sight of her on top of him, but the expression on her face made him hurt so badly, he thought he might not survive. He reached out, wanting her to look at him, but she refused, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly as she moved on top of him frantically chasing her release.

“Y/N” He begged quietly, as her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing to cause pain.

“I hate you. I hate you so much” She whimpered, as his fingers dug into her thighs.

“Please” He whispered, and she let go of his throat, digging her nails into his shoulders.

Thomas wanted to reach out to wipe her tears away, but he knew she wouldn't let him.

So he leaned forward, his forehead pressing against her collarbone when he let out a shaky breath.

“I love you” He whispered weakly, holding her tightly as she haven't stopped moving even for a second, brimming on the edge.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you” She cried out, opening her eyes as she looked down at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were half lidded but he didn't give up, staring and repeating like mantra.

“I love you” kept spilling from his lips as she reached her peak, causing him to follow right after as they reached the release.

His head fell forward, tears escaping his tired eyes as she quickly got off of him, leaving him without a word.

***

Y/N was growing increasingly restless inside of the Arrow House. Her days had been filled with reading and finding activities to keep her sons occupied, which took less time than usual, as Thomas took every opportunity to spend time with them. There was one room she had only been in once prior on this visit. She shuddered at the memory of her desperate conflicted intimacy with Thomas. Y/N knew that room would hold a concentrated form of his presence and essence, even more so after that night. She wasn’t sure if she felt strong enough to enter his sanctum again, but while Thomas was away on business and her boys were having their afternoon nap, the curiosity overcame her hesitation as she entered his space.

It was incredibly… him with deep mahogany furnishings and sumptuous emerald accents. During that night, she had paid no attention to the surroundings in the office - only to him and her inner emotions. Slowly she went deeper into his study, turning on a lamp at his desk. She could picture him here with those round glasses on, absorbed in matters of business both legitimate and less so. To the side of his desk was a small curio cabinet filled with antiquities and presumably family mementos. It hardly garnered a second thought from her until she noticed a figurine on the top shelf next to an old photograph of Thomas and his siblings. It was the figurine.

Before the war, before everything changed, she and Thomas would wander around Birmingham together - young and full of optimism. Both their families were poor and doing their best to survive in the cruel world, but they were the dreamers of their respective clans. He and Y/N often visited a certain shop that sold trinkets and collectables. Y/N yearned to be able to spend money on frivolous little objects like these one day. There was a specific figurine that she longed to own: a porcelain ballerina with graceful fingers and a white and pink lace ruffled skirt. She thought ballerinas were the most fairy-like women that walked the Earth. Of course neither of them could afford such a beautifully crafted figurine, but Y/N swore that one day they would walk in that shop and purchase her ballerina without a second thought to the cost.

That never happened, yet here it was, that same figurine she had seen so many years before sitting in Thomas’ curio cabinet in his most sacred space of his home. She didn’t know what it meant, but she felt tears prick her eyes at the reminder of those beautiful days from their youth. If only they could be like that again. If only the war and the turmoil after it hadn’t soured the tender young love they had known.

“I see you found your way back to my study” Thomas’ deep voice called from the doorway. Y/N was startled. She had been so lost in her memories and feelings that she hadn’t noticed his presence. She shifted awkwardly.

“Yeah, it seems like it.” She responded, glancing towards the curio cabinet. He slowly came up closer, a small grin on his face.

“What did you find?” Thomas asked, tilting his head to the side. Of course he knew what she saw, but wanted to hear it.

“I can’t believe you remembered my ballerina” Y/N said, not meeting his gaze.

“I went back to the shop to get it, but old Mr. Jones said he’d sold it years before. It took some hunting, but I eventually found her. I was hoping to someday show it to you, but… seems like you found her instead.”

“Why?” she questioned him in a small voice.

“Because this is how I remember you. You always said the ballerina was like a fairy or goddess come to Earth, but to me… when I saw that ballerina figure, I saw you.” Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she glanced back towards the cabinet and then back at the man in front of her. Letting out a deep sigh, she wiped her eyes.

“Why now? Why did it take you so long to… to do this? Anything. I waited so long and… and now it's too late, Thomas.” She said, looking at him with an expression that crushed him. Feeling his breath hitch painfully, he felt his throat tightening. He had grieved over losing her and now that Y/N was physically here, she had never felt more far away from him.

After looking into her eyes for a longer moment, Tommy grabbed her hand, slowly straightening it against his palm while the other one reached to his holster, pulling out his gun. Y/N’s eyes widened, but his gaze remained locked on hers, not faltering.

Finally, he didn't feel the fear. Holding the loaded gun, he slowly shoved it into her smaller hand, aiming it forward before he closed his eyes. Pushing his forehead against the muzzle tightly, keeping her wrist upright.

“Then kill me.” He said out loud, the words hanging in the air for a moment. “Because otherwise I will never let you go, no matter how hard you try.”

Thanks for reading lol bye

@iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @garrison-girl-08 @chaimaarouaine11 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @honeymoon8

@dannysankletattoo

[redvexillum]

Me: Alrighty-ho! Time to work on my grossly late fraugwinska's DBD x HH event and @6esiree's contest!

Me, completely a sub to my desires despite having zero experience writing a lucifer x reader fic: This is gonna be a quick, dirty, SHORT one shot. No problem-o! *nearly 5000 words later* fhuck.

TAGS/WARNINGS: vexi's brain rot, p in v, cunnilingus, wtf did I just write, f!reader, lucifer isn't quite over lilith because ✨drama✨️, low key blaming @sociosin for sending me spicy Lucifer's ask and @the-other-soup for drawing sexy lucifer - I stood no chance guys

When you first matched with DuckLover69 on Cinder, you laughed, thinking it was a typo—surely, he meant to type DickMaster69. That seemed on brand for a hook-up app straight out of Hell. But as you stood there in his room, surrounded by luxurious, crimson-hued furniture and bed sheets of rich satin that would have looked decadent if they weren’t crowded by piles—actual mounds—of rubber ducks, you realized this guy hadn’t mistyped at all.  

This man really, truly, loved ducks. 

Maybe a tad too much.

You wove your way carefully through a veritable army of rubber duckies, each dressed in an outfit more absurd than the last. A little one in a sombrero sat beside a duck knight, complete with a silver helmet and a feather. You squinted. Was that one wielding a miniature sword? It stuck out from its back at a haphazard angle, as if this duck had met some unspeakable end in battle. 

How…avant-garde?

“Sorry for the wait!” A nervous, high-pitched voice broke the silence, followed by an anxious chuckle that echoed through the room. You turned to see Mr. Duck Lover, as he’d introduced himself online, standing stiff as a board, his hand twirling a crimson red apple atop his sleek, obsidian-black staff. 

He was exactly as odd in person as he’d been in your chats: curious to a fault and totally oblivious to social cues. His very first question had been, “So, do you know the King of Hell?” Not exactly small talk. But you had shrugged it off, telling him the truth—that you’d hardly kept up with Hell’s political scene since you arrived. You were too busy dealing with entitled assholes in your new, endless service job, a punishment so mundane it felt like Hell’s personal version of torture. 

You’d expected the conversation to taper off after that, but Mr. Duck Lover had caught you off-guard by taking a U-turn, asking without reserve if you liked sex. The question had been so blunt, so awkwardly dropped into the conversation, that you’d ended up laughing. After a hellish day dealing with rude customers, his lack of tact and straight-up weirdness had been refreshing, if bizarre, and you’d surprised yourself by playing along. 

And now here you were, standing in his duck-filled lair, looking at him in all his nervous, overdressed glory. “You weren’t kidding when you said you liked ducks,” you said with a grin, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible as you waved at a particularly stylish duck with a feathered boa around its neck. 

Mr. Duck Lover's shoulders stiffened, and his eyes darted back and forth. Two bright red circles painted his cheeks, and he looked like a mime who’d been caught halfway through his act. His fingers fidgeted with the apple on his staff as he tried for a casual smile, though it came across more like a grimace. 

“I-is that a dealbreaker?” His voice cracked, and you could practically feel the nerves radiating off him. You chuckled, stepping a little closer, savouring the way his breath caught, and his cheeks flushed a unique shade of gold, the colour spilling across his nose in a way that was like glittering treasure strewn across white sand. 

“Nah, just… observing,” you said, your grin turning wicked. “What’s wrong, Mr. Duck Lover?”  

You reached out, tucking a stray strand of gold that had fallen over his forehead back into place. He froze, his breath hitching, his eyes widening as if he’d been zapped. The blush on his cheeks deepened, and he puffed them out, holding his breath, looking for all the world like he was trying not to combust from embarrassment. 

Odd, yes. But somehow, interesting. You found yourself curious—very curious—about just what went on in that strange, nervous, duck-obsessed mind of his. 

You chuckled softly, warmth pooling at the base of your throat as you took him in. How adorable. Everything about him felt so out of place for a guy on an app specifically for hookups. He stood there, stiff as a board, his eyes darting to your every move, arms glued to his sides as though his own body wasn’t sure what to do with itself. And as you leaned closer, you noticed a large portrait hung in the back corner of his room—a family picture, quaint and well-loved. 

Am I his rebound? you thought, as you slid your fingers along his collar, grazing the crisp fabric before slowly easing it off his shoulders. His vest, a pale pink stripe against white, gave him a soft, almost innocent look—a stark contrast to the nerves dancing in his wide eyes. He didn’t resist, simply let his jacket slip down his arms, his breath coming shallow as you leaned in, feeling the heat rise as your faces neared, breath mingling. 

With a gulp, he stammered, “I gu-guess we’re doing the do, that's fantastic!” He tried to smile, his teeth peeking out in a goofy, uncertain grin as he let the jacket fall to the floor. 

“You mean…” you whispered, your voice low as you pressed against him, feeling his entire body tense beneath your touch. “Fucking?” 

He squeaked—actually squeaked—and tried to clear his throat, summoning a shred of composure. “That’s right, f-ffucking,” he stammered, the word awkward on his lips as he sounded it out like it was a foreign concept. “Because that’s… what we do. Now. Here.” His body shivered slightly, and you could feel the tremble that ran from his chest to yours, betraying his every anxious thought. 

A spark of curiosity bloomed in you as you watched his attempts at bravado crumble with each beat of silence. You felt it all click into place. In Hell, family didn’t exactly… exist. Sinners couldn’t create new life here, so the idea of settling down with a partner wasn’t the norm, let alone the idea of casual intimacy. But here he was, talking about sex with the clumsy innocence of someone barely familiar with the concept. “Hey…” you murmured, a thrill lacing your words. “Are you… a virgin?” 

The question struck him like lightning, his eyes going wide, his fingers clutching at his vest in a mixture of embarrassment and flustered denial. “Wha—first time?” He laughed—a loud, forced laugh that seemed to rattle out of him, like he was trying to chase away the truth. “Oh, no, no, no, not at all! I’ve… I’ve used my penis in… numerous ways.” His voice dropped to a low, desperate tone. “I even shape-shifted a few times for… added spice,” he said, his forked tongue flicking nervously, searching your face as though hoping to see doubt there instead of amusement. 

But you couldn’t help it. The men you usually met were arrogant, self-assured, and too focused on themselves to care. Yet here he was—blushing, hesitant, endearing in his innocence. A wicked grin spread across your face as you let your fingers trail lower, smoothing down his vest, tracing each trembling line of muscle underneath until you reached the waistband of his pants. 

You glanced up, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smirk, and his breath caught. His lips quivered, his cheeks flushed, but he returned your grin—innocent and eager, albeit with a slight, deliciously shaky edge. 

You wondered just what kind of man Mr. Duck Lover truly was as your hands moved along his body, peeling away each layer of his clothing, his meagre defences landing on the floor with gentle thuds joining with yours. For all his usual fidgeting and awkwardness, there was something disarmingly tender in the way he touched you, as if each stroke of his fingertips was sacred, each caress reverent. That boyish, clumsy charm he wore like a mask seemed to slip away, leaving behind a quiet intensity in his gaze that made your pulse race. 

“Been… a while,” he murmured, his hands wandering in tentative exploration, pausing over the soft curve of your breast, then settling firmly at your hips. The admiration in his voice deepened as he sighed, his eyes tracing over you as though you were something divine. “God really did create the perfect being,” he whispered, his lips grazing your shoulder, and as your bare bodies met in a slow, full embrace, it was your turn to hold your breath, struck by the unexpected gentleness of it. 

You almost chuckled, the urge to tease him—“Praising God in Hell? How blasphemous,”—hovering at the tip of your tongue. But as he drew you closer, his face tucked deep into the curve of your neck, words fell away, replaced by a silent warmth that seeped into every nerve, every inch of your skin. His arms wound tighter around you, his body pressing against yours, not out of desire, but a kind of longing that felt… deeper.

Meaningful. 

Your arms wrapped around him on instinct, though your mind buzzed with confusion. Shouldn’t this be a quick, meaningless fuck by now? Yet, here you were, tangled in his arms, savouring the sensation of him, feeling the quiet, almost desperate comfort he sought as he held you. The naked intimacy was strange, yes. Unexpected, yes. But something in you didn’t want to break the moment; it felt like a balm, easing all the stress and tension that had worn you down for far too long as you toiled away in your eternal damnation.  

You closed your eyes, surrendering to the steady warmth of his body, your fingers tracing delicate paths along his spine. Each gentle touch pulled soft, barely audible sounds from his throat, the hint of a moan muffled against your skin as your fingers reached his hair, petting through the soft strands. His hair was even softer than you’d imagined, and you felt him sink into your touch, both of you on the brink of letting go.

Letting go of what? You weren't sure.  

But suddenly, he pulled back, and the spell shattered. His cheeks flushed, his hands awkwardly clutching at your waist as he avoided your gaze, his nervous energy flooding back. “Right, uh, sex. That’s what we’re… here for, isn’t it? So, we should, um…” He forced a grin. “Do the, uh… the sex!” 

That was when you finally absorbed your surroundings, the vast emptiness around you, the solemn quiet of his home. There was a lonely hush here, dark and endless, filling every corner, every shadow. And, of course, the lifeless ducks haphazardly thrown around. 

But there was no one else. 

Not a soul in these halls. 

You slipped your hand into his, guiding him toward the bed with a gentleness that felt at odds with your own intentions. You almost considered tucking him under the covers, wrapping him up and telling him that he didn’t have to prove anything to you, that he could wait until he was ready. But he wasn’t a child, and you weren’t here to be his caretaker. 

He lay down first, an eager anticipation flickering across his face despite the faint tremor in his limbs, his gaze fixed on you as you joined him. His body, still soft with nerves, lay at ease, his cock resting against his thigh. You reached out, taking him in hand, moving slowly as your fingers traced down his length, stroking him with a softness that coaxed him to relax. You felt him tense, then soften beneath your touch. 

“Oh… oh wow,” he breathed, his voice catching as he watched your hand, eyes wide with wonder. “Y-you’re… you’re pretty good at this,” he stammered, awe shimmering in his voice as he struggled to keep his composure, his gaze flicking between your face and your hand, his lips parting in quiet gasps. 

At that moment, you couldn’t help but smile—feeling the thrill of his innocence, of his complete surrender. And somewhere in the warmth of his admiration, his trust, you realized you didn’t mind slowing down. 

True to his word, his body responded to your touch with a newfound firmness, his length growing against your hand, his skin silky and heated beneath your fingers. The sensation felt achingly familiar, like a melody you’d danced to before, each note resonating with a purpose neither of you had voiced aloud but understood all too well. 

Loneliness.

That was the reason, unspoken and raw, why you both found yourselves here tonight. You didn’t need his name, didn’t need his history because tonight was about filling that hollow ache. It was a fix—a fleeting, intoxicating drug against the gnawing ache deep in your chest. For one night, the world and its relentless wear could fall away in the ecstatic blur of release. 

You moved to straddle him, your body lowering until your wet, aching centre pressed firmly against the length of his cock, heat melding with heat. His eyes flicked down to where your bodies connected, then back up to meet your gaze, a hungry, almost reverent look filling his face. As you began to grind your hips against him, the friction sent a rush of molten heat through you, a spark igniting as you slid over him, slick and needy. 

He watched, his breaths coming in short, shuddering waves, head falling back against the pillow, his hands twitching at his sides, unsure if he should reach for you or simply feel. His own pulse matched yours, every breath and heartbeat syncing to a rhythm of shared need, unburdened by names or burdens. 

Slowly, you lifted your hips, guiding him to your entrance, pressing yourself down until his thick, warm tip pushed past your folds. Inch by inch, you took him, feeling every delicious stretch, every bit of pressure radiating inside you. A soft, desperate mewl escaped your lips as you sank fully, your bodies meeting in a perfect, seamless join. The raw sensation of him filling you hit deep, igniting pleasure like embers to flame. 

His head tilted back, his eyes fluttering shut, a low hiss slipping past his parted lips. “This is…” he began, voice trembling, his fingers flexing as if fighting to keep control, “oh gosh… really wonderful.” His hands faltered, barely grazing your hips before he let them fall to his sides again, his face flushed with both pleasure and nervous restraint. His hips lifted, seeking you instinctively, meeting each of your downward strokes with soft thrusts that went deeper, each time pushing him further within. 

“Oh, oh jeez, oh—golly…” He groaned, his fingers twisting into the sheets as he struggled to find words, every breath shuddering as he fought to keep up. His words, his earnest surprise, almost made you laugh, a kind of sweetness seeping into his awkward sounds as he gripped the sheets tighter. “Wow…” 

You bit back a smile, letting a small laugh escape between breaths. “What? You’ve never had good sex before?” you taunted, rolling your hips, drawing him fully within before slamming back down again. 

His cheeks flushed a deep gold, his chest expanding as he gasped, his muscles tensing beneath you. “N-No—ah, that’s not…” His voice wavered, breaking off in a moan as he sucked in a breath. “Oh, no… if you keep doing that… I won’t last long.” His voice softened, rich with pleasure and just a hint of pleading, as his eyes met yours, full of shy desire. “Please… I want this to last… just a little longer.” His words trailed into a low, trembling moan, his hands finally reaching, hesitantly finding their place on your waist as he held you, breath heavy with yearning, surrendering entirely to the moment with you. 

You hummed thoughtfully, sliding him out of you, his cock springing free and bouncing against his stomach, throbbing with the loss of warmth. His sudden whimper made you smirk, biting back a laugh as you hovered just out of reach. 

“I'm nowhere close to finishing,” you teased, keeping your wet heat tantalizingly close to him, yet unreachable all the same. 

“I can fix that!” he nearly shouted, grinning like he’d just found a solution to all the world's problems. Sitting up eagerly, he waggled his eyebrows with such intensity that it made you giggle. “After all, I was quite the… generous eater in my day,” he added, flicking his forked tongue out for effect. 

“Oh, is that so?” You chuckled, giving him a playful look. “Show me, oh great, generous eater.”  

He joined in your laughter, but then his eyes drifted over your shoulder. His face faltered, brows knitting together, and you followed his gaze. The same family portrait you had initially noticed back in your view—a tall, curvaceous woman with long blonde hair standing beside him and a child who seemed to carry hints of both their features. 

You moved next to him, and leaned back, trying to keep your tone casual. “If you’re going to bring a one-night stand over, maybe next time use a room without a family portrait.” The words came out sharper than you intended, a twinge of bitterness souring the edge. 

His shoulders tensed as he turned to you, eyes wide with a guilty look. “Oh—no, that’s not…I…” He stammered, his hands fluttering in the air as if trying to reach some explanation. 

You sighed, deciding to throw him a lifeline. You were here for fun, not drama. “Hey, relax. It’s…whatever,” you said with a casual shrug, a grin playing on your lips. But that lingering bitterness in your chest didn’t quite vanish. 

Mr. Duck Lover seemed to seize onto your words, scrambling between your legs, though his excitement from earlier was starting to wane. “I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured, leaning close, fingers hesitating on the curves of your hips, as if battling his own mind. His face hovered near your core, yet he seemed frozen in place, like he was staring into the void rather than your body. 

It was quite a comical sight. 

If you weren't in the picture, that is. 

There he was—his head bowed at your centre, practically on the verge of a self-reflective breakdown. While you laid there, spread out and ready, and he was having an existential crisis. 

You sighed, raising an eyebrow as he muttered to himself, “I can do this,” almost like he was about to leap off a bridge instead of…well, pleasing you. His hands twitched as his hands hovered over your hips, eyes squeezing shut in concentration as if gearing up for some monumental challenge. 

By now, the mood had evaporated, leaving behind only the lingering awkwardness of his whispered self-encouragement. Five seconds later, you realized that, yes, you’d completely lost the heat of the moment, and this was likely going nowhere but more awkwardness. 

You reached out gently, brushing his cheek. “Hey…maybe we should…” you started softly, hoping to ease him off this self-imposed, anxious ride and spare you both whatever spiral he was about to go down. 

His eyes snapped to yours, full of a pleading, vulnerable intensity, his lips parted and his gaze almost desperate. “No, no, I can do it!” His voice trembled, and he bit his lower lip, the slightest twitch in his left eye betraying his nerves. “It’s just been….” 

You softened, trying to help him find the words. “Years?” 

“Centuries,” he murmured, looking away as if confessing a secret. 

Centuries. The realization hits you with a strange thrill. You liked older men, sure, but you wondered how long he had stayed in Hell for. “Oh…” was all you managed, feeling the surreal weight of the moment. 

“May I?” he asked, his voice a tender murmur, fingers twitching, hesitant to touch you. You could only nod, slightly taken aback that he was asking for permission now, especially after where you'd both already been just minutes earlier. 

The moment his fingers touched your skin, he exhaled deeply, closing his eyes as if relishing the warmth. He pressed a featherlight kiss against the curve of your hip, his touch more gentle than you could have imagined. With each kiss, he drifted lower, his lips tracing delicate patterns along your skin, until he found that sensitive spot just above your core, making you jolt beneath him. 

Your emotions tangled, caught between surprise and pleasure. You’d expected something hasty, careless, but this…this felt almost achingly tender. 

He opened his eyes, the intensity of his gaze softening as his lips brushed against you. Then, slowly, his tongue traced between your folds, a warm, pleasant heat that sent a gasp spilling from your lips. His own groan followed, deep and low, a sound of unrestrained need, as he continued to explore you, his lips and tongue working in gentle, insistent rhythms. 

You bit your lip, mirroring the way he’d done earlier, clutching the sheets as your body arched, heels pressing into the bed. Every reaction you gave seemed to stoke something in him, drawing another low, desperate moan from his throat. He rocked his hips against the mattress, as if drinking each of your gasps, as if they were fuelling his own desire. 

“Ah—D-don't stop,” you whimpered, your chest rising as your back arched from the bed. But he didn’t let you escape, his lips chasing every inch of you. His mouth closed around your sensitive nub, sucking gently before he dipped his tongue to explore further, the alternating sensations sending you spiralling. 

Your breath came ragged and broken, each wave of pleasure building faster as he licked and sucked with an almost feverish devotion. His own body responded in turn, his hips grinding against the bed, the friction drawing needy, guttural sounds from him that only fed your own pleasure. 

The rhythm intensified, and just as you thought you might break from the mounting sensation, he pressed deeper, his tongue a soft, insistent force. You clenched around the bliss rising within you, every muscle tensing, as he held you there, relishing every sound, every tremor of pleasure that passed between you both in the heady, dizzying night. 

“Shit,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, fingers tightening as you pulled him closer. His lips pressed even harder against you, and you felt yourself unravelling, teetering on the edge of something wild and raw. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, your legs bending as the fire in your belly coiled tighter. Then, with one last fierce suck and an indulgent lick, he shattered your restraint. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, tearing a ragged cry from your throat as it flooded every inch of your body. 

He moved with you, his own hips shifting as if in sync with the rhythm of your climax, his mouth still sealed to you, eager to take in every tremor and quake of your release. His hand slipped beneath him, the hurried motion of his strokes intensifying, his fingers relentless as he chased his own peak while lingering over every pulse and shudder of yours. 

He moaned against you, his mouth vibrating with his own mounting pleasure, his hips twitching as he hit his release just after yours. His strokes slowed, tapering off as he gasped, his lips finally releasing you as his chest heaved. He knelt there, breathless, lips glistening from the shared passion, drenched by the evidence of his pleasure pooling between you. 

But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he crawled up beside you, eyes softened as he reached for you, arms wrapping tenderly around your shoulders, guiding you to rest your head against his chest. You stayed there, uncertain yet draped in the quiet intimacy of the moment. His heartbeat pounded against your ear, each beat so fierce you couldn’t tell if it was his or your own. 

His hand drifted up to brush your hair back, fingers combing gently as his breathing settled into a steady rhythm with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, then another to the crown of your head, his lips lingering as if they held some unspoken affection, each kiss like a vow. 

“You were wonderful, dear,” he whispered, his voice a low, affectionate murmur, pressing another soft kiss to your hair. He stayed there, his arms cradling you, showering you with gentle kisses, an unexpected tenderness weaving around you both in the aftermath, grounding you in a warmth that felt real, if only for this moment. 

“I'm not sure how to even respond to that” you murmured, your mind still a haze, struggling to piece itself back together in the lingering aftershocks of your release. His fingers brushed tenderly along your cheek, and when you looked up, his eyes were warm, soft, his gaze holding an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. 

“You’re perfect,” he said, tilting your chin up, his voice thick with emotion. His lips pressed gently to yours, lingering as if he wanted to etch this moment into his mind. “You’re everything I want and more.” His voice cracked, barely a whisper, before he pulled you against his chest, his arms tightening around you with a fervency that felt almost desperate, as if he were holding on to something he couldn’t bear to lose. 

The raw affection in his embrace left you spinning. He held you as if you were his—an intimacy that felt foreign and startling. You’d just met him, after all. Yet here he was, clinging onto you as if you were more than a passing connection, as if you meant something deeper, something that couldn’t be dismissed. It was unnerving, a stark contrast to what you’d expected. 

Your eyes drifted to the shadowed portrait in the corner of the room, catching the faint outline of the woman in it—a powerful figure with curling horns and a smile that was as beautiful as it was unsettling. Whoever she was, she lingered here, like a ghost following his every step, a reminder of a past not fully left behind. 

But then, he murmured into your hair, “I love you. Please… don’t go.” His voice was fragile, almost broken, and his arms wrapped around you even tighter, his head pressing against yours, as if the strength of his embrace alone could keep you with him. 

There were many reasons people used Cinder. Some were looking for a thrill, some for a fleeting escape, some for connection in a moment that might otherwise feel empty. Maybe that was all this was, a bandage to the wound of loneliness he didn’t want to admit to, a warmth he hadn’t felt in ages. 

You hesitated, your hands resting limply against his back. This wasn’t what you’d come for; it wasn’t what you’d expected. But then, you could feel his frame trembling beneath your touch, the vulnerability in his grip as if he’d waited lifetimes to feel the comfort of another. Gently, you placed a hand on his back, feeling the way he drew in a shaky breath. 

“I won’t,” you whispered softly, almost to yourself, your voice filling the quiet between you.  “I’m here for you.”  

It was a lie, but a beautiful lie, nonetheless. 

At your words, he shuddered, holding you tighter, his trembling easing as if you’d just unlocked something buried within him.  

You were just a passing soul, but at this moment, maybe that was enough. 

[aliwritex]

WITH THE RED DRESS ON mv1

summary: Max finally has a free time, all for his girlfriend after working for so long and he wants to make a night that they’d remember.

warnings/contents: max being a sweetheart, brief mention of reader being petite, garter and stockings, slight size kink and stomach bulge mention. oral (f) and pinv

an: inspired by Red Dress by MAGIC! ENJOY!! (this was so not the dress i was envisioning)

Max had been waiting in your room for what felt like ten thousand lifetimes.

He told you about two hours ago that he had made a reservation at your favorite restaurant. He watched you through the open closet door. Your makeup was done, your hair was ready and you even had a pair of shoes set aside but Max had already seen you try on five different dresses.

He looked at the time on his watch – 09:01 P.M. If you don’t make it to the restaurant before nine thirty his reservation will be discarded and you’ll probably be seated at a terrible table, not the one he picked at the outside area of the place.

At this point, all Max wanted to do was walk into the closet and make you fall apart on his tongue and his cock until you regret making him wait so long. He couldn’t take any more of you wearing only see through panties and those fucking pantyhose as you looked for the next dress.

As he walked over to you, Max debated on skipping dinner and just having you to himself but he remembered why he was doing this anyway. You mentioned how you’ve been working over time and wanted to make a night that you’d remember.

“It’s nine, darling” his hand snaked around your waist, head resting on your shoulder.

“I know, Maxie, just haven’t found anything to wear”

He stared down at the arm wrapped around your waist – 9:05 P.M.

“Put on whatever, you’ll look good regardless” he kissed your neck and walked back out.

Max left the bedroom to refresh, he paced around the kitchen before pouring two glasses of water. He finished his water and even put the cup back before walking back to the room with yours. When he walked into the closet you had already taken off another dress.

“I didn’t even get to see that one on” he handed you the glass.

“It looked terrible, need to get rid of that one.”

“‘kay, you have fifteen more minutes. We need at least five to get there.”

He grabbed your empty glass and made his way back out. Max decided to stay outside to ease his anxiety away so he threw himself on the couch with a sigh before pulling out his phone to scroll mindlessly. As much as he tried keeping his mind on his phone it started to wander back to you. You in your pantyhose, you in his shirt last night, you in nothing this morning.

He was starting to lose it but with exactly ten minutes left on the clock he heard the bedroom door close. His head snapped back, chin settled on the couch’s backrest as he looked at you, smiley eyes twinkling in the dim light.

“‘M ready. Can you take my phone in your pocket?”

“Wow”

“Do you like it?”

He walked over to you, taking your hand in his and making you spin around for him. You chuckled at his actions, finally feeling pretty and comfortable in your outfit. He pushed you up against the closest wall and kissed you with need but you stopped him almost instantly, making him groan.

“Thought we were late” you teased “now you have lipgloss on your mustache”

He looked down at you as you wiped his mouth with your thumb. The small red dress fits you perfectly, hugging your chest and snatching your waist before flowing more freely around your hips. Maybe a little too freely, Max thought, as a quick wind could make it flow higher than you’d wish. But you felt good and it was perfect for a summer night.

On the way to the restaurant all he could think about was how he would take that dress off the second you got home.

As you sat down at your table you started telling him how much you appreciated that he used his time off for a simple night like this with you. He wasn’t really paying attention and if you were being honest, you could tell. His eyes were shifting from your lips to your chest to your hair to your eyes but never hearing a word you were saying.

“Max!” you called, pulling him away from his daydreaming “I want the same as always, do you need the menu?”

“Huh? No, sorry”

He ordered for you both, including a red wine and turned back to you, face red with embarrassment.

“Shiraz?”

“What? It’s what you always have with this dish, no?”

“It’s probably the most aphrodisiac wine ever”

“Well, I didn’t know that. But I guess we’ll have a fun night then”

You would’ve teased him about you finally knowing more about something but Max was distracting you too. His beard was more present than normal and you had done his hair yourself, just the way you liked it. But what you stared the longest at were the rolled up sleeves of his shirt, and how his chest filled it.

You eventually caught each other starring and chuckled, quickly falling into daily banter. He had you feeling like a teenager with every small flirty comment about you. When the plates came you were both about to lose your minds. You were feeling hot all over, your feet running up and down his calves under the table.

“Stop teasing me”

“Finish up, we can skip dessert tonight”

Max ate as fast as he possibly could, almost choking from not chewing enough.

Max probably drove over the speed limit all the way back to his apartment but you were inside in less than ten minutes.

“Baby, slow down” you chuckled as he completely attacked your neck and jaw.

He had pressed you against the wall right next to the front door, his hands fisting your wrists above your head as his hips pressed against yours.

“Can’t” he muttered, “you made me wait so long. Just wanted to bend you over in your closet and fuck you so good”

“Maxie” you whined at his proposal.

“I know, love, c’mon, lemme make you feel good.” his hands traveled down to your thighs, pulling them up so he could pick you up and walk you to your room.

You giggled on your way in, his soft hair tickling you as he kissed down the straps of your dress. He placed you on the bed, legs dangling off the edge and kneeled down in front of you. Max reached for your shoes and started unbuckling them slowly.

“Max! Just pull them off.” you told him in a groan.

“You told me to slow down” he kissed your knee.

You rolled your eyes and waited as he pulled them off and smiled when he finally started kissing up your calf. You lifted your torso onto your elbows to look at him as his lips brushed against your skin through your stockings making you shiver. He kissed all the way up to your naked thighs, placing his head between them as he went under your skirt.

You chuckled again and bunched up your skirt around your waist to find his face buried between your legs, kissing closer and closer to your middle. Your hands ran through his sandy hair, messing it up before you tugged on it to make him look up.

“C'mon, Max”

He dragged his lips past your underwear and started leaving kisses up your stomach, biting the skin that covered your hip bones.

“Take this off” he told you and got up from his knees.

Max watched you unzip and take off your dress as he unbuttoned his own shirt and took off his shoes. His eyes caught how your tits were almost spilling out of the thin lace bra and how you shivered as the cold air hit your skin, your hairs going up and your nipples getting hard. He walked back over to you, standing between your knees as he looked down at you.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest?” he ran his big palm up your stomach right to your tits, folding the bra under them. “And look at these, fuck!”

He took one of your tits in his hand and bent over you to mouth at the other. He took everything he could into his mouth, making sure to swirl his tongue around your nipple. You arched your chest into him, running your fingers through the short hair on the back of his head.

“Maxie,” you whined, bucking your hips up to feel him growing against you, “please, need you so bad”

He listened to your pleas and popped your breast out of his mouth, starting to kiss down your sides and leaving a mark right on your ribs. His fingers hooked on the straps that connected the stockings to the garter around your waist and unsnapped them, freeing him to tug your underwear down your legs.

“You know what? I like the straps”

“Thought so” you teased as he snapped them back together and pulled away from you to see them.

Max got down on his knees again, this time throwing your legs over his shoulders to bring your cunt as close as possible to his face. The kisses he left to your thighs were loud and wet, making you squirm in anticipation. When he finally got to your cunt all he did was gently lick at your clit, slowly and barely applying any pressure. He felt you shiver under him as his tongue slowly worked harder against your core, applying more pressure with every small lick.

You pulled his head closer to your cunt, forcing him to dive in properly and push his tongue to your hole. You moaned when he circled it around the opening and took it right back to your clit. Max did love to drive you insane but he was done teasing so he finally took your clit between his lips and sucked on it. You pushed your hips to his face and he smiled, happy with the state he had gotten you to. He took his fingers up to your cunt and spread your wetness around before pushing them in, you clenched around them, feeling them pump in and out of you.

“Max, baby” you whined

“What is it, love?” he asked between kisses to the sides of your thighs “Tell me what you need”

“Just- don’t stop please, feels so good”

Your boyfriend took the encouragement and dived back into you, his lips and tongue working your clit relentlessly as his fingers started curling up inside you. It had been way too long since he last took care of you like this, you were way too sensitive as you felt it build up, a warm and agonizing feeling down your belly. It was too soon and it felt too strong but you couldn’t hold yourself back, the alcohol making you lose all control of your own body. You felt your orgasm take over you like a strong wave, your mind going completely blank as Max groaned onto your core, his fingers still working you all the way through it.

Moans left your mouth freely as you clenched and spasmed around him, your hips rocking back and forth onto his face and hand till they came to a stop. You finally looked down at Max, lifting yourself on your elbows to catch his face completely soaked in your squirt as he looked at you with a smile on his face.

“I missed this” he kissed anything he could reach, stomach, thighs, cunt, “you made a bit of a mess, though, think we’re gonna have to sleep in the guest room.” he chuckled.

“C’mere,” you reached for his arms and guided him to hold himself above you, “please, fuck me.”

“Anything you want, love”

He stood up and undid his belt and pants as you climbed up on the bed so your legs weren’t dangling anymore. Besides everything, the look Max had on his face translated into – mostly �� tenderness, he was so in love with you, you were the only thing on his mind and all he wanted was to be close to you. He climbed on the bed, fully bare and positioned himself between your knees, his hard cock brushing against your wet folds made you moan.

“So sensitive, huh?”

You just nodded, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to try to contain any other sound that threatened to spill from your throat. He rested his cock on your stomach for a second, loving to see the comparison of size, before lowering himself to kiss the skin behind your ear. It was one of your biggest soft spots and Max knew it well, making you let out a suppressed moan past your lips. He then went down to mouth at your clavicles as he drove himself into you. Then you couldn’t even try to suppress the moan, it came from deep in your chest, loud, desperate, even. Your eyes screw shut and your nails dug into the skin of his arms and back.

“Look at me,” he asked, “so beautiful, schat. I love you so much, fuck. Gripping me so good”

You just threw your head back, completely lost in pleasure as he slowly dragged in and out of you. His hips moved as slow as he possibly could, watching the way your face curled in pleasure and desperation. It wasn’t like he could go faster, really, you were still adjusting to his girth and he could barely pull out from how tightly you clenched around him.

But when you finally molded around him, allowing space for him to move, he started going at it, thrusting so deep you could see your uterus move on your lower stomach. Despite the ‘roughness’ of his thrusts, Max kissed you soft and gently, a hand caressing your hair as the other lifted your leg up to give you a better angle of his cock, it was all about balance.

“Baby,” you called “let me ride you”

You heard a slow sigh of ‘fuck’ leave his lips before he pulled out to sit against the headboard. You threw your leg over his to straddle him and lifted yourself up only to sink onto his cock again. You both groaned as he filled you up and you reached for his face, his beard scratching your palms as you pulled him closer for a kiss.

“Missed you, missed your cock”

“I missed you too, darling, everyday”

You kissed him again as you started to move back and forth, slowly dragging your clit on his lower stomach. Max’s hands were on your hips guiding your movements as he took a tit into his mouth, licking and sucking at it, at that point your chest was covered in his spit. You felt so much closer to him like that, feeling his chest press to your stomach as you hugged his face to your breasts.

Max started guiding you faster, his own hips moving slightly to match yours. His lips left your boob to kiss at your neck and one of his hands moved down between your bodies, circling your clit with the pad of his fingers. And there it was again, your stomach tightening as you clenched around him.

“Close, schat?” he whispered

You could only whine and hum a positive sound as he rocked you harder on him. You grabbed his face with both hands, bringing him into another kiss. Your tongues were sliding against each other’s as you came around him. Max shot his cum inside you immediately, bringing your hips to a smaller movement so you could ride out both of your orgasms.

“If you don’t stop i’m gonna need another one” you told him after resting your head on his shoulder, his hands finally stopped moving your hips.

“Sorry, darling.”

He left a trail of kisses from your shoulder to the spot below your ear, small pecks that made you shiver. Max rested back against the pillows with you on top of him, taking a somewhat comfortable sleeping position without disconnecting you.

“I love you so much, darling”