#when I was drinking it earlier I remembered how I used to down two cups worth of black tea with sweetener in the morning senior year

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I’ll make myself tea, drink half of it, forget it, and then be less sure what i want to do when I find it again three hours later

[kykyonthemoon]

Under The Weather

Zayne came to visit you when you were unwell, and turned out, you were not the only one who needed special care.

── .✦ Zayne x Female Reader|MC

♡︎. Tags: fluff, sweet, soft domestic fluff, tender loving care, established relationship, sickness, seasonal flu and usage of medication.

♡︎. Word count: ~1k

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - currently closed.

In a dreaming state, you woke up at midday. The doorbell rang, and you had to force yourself to move your painful, fatigued body. 

Zayne was waiting for you outside. At that moment, you immediately recalled something really important.

You had stood Zayne up.

That Saturday morning was supposed to be your date at the cinema with Zayne. But in the early morning, you had a fever and ultimately fell asleep. You turned to look at the wall clock inside the room and felt even more guilty.

Zayne, though, remained silent. Just by looking at your current state, he could tell why you did not show up at the cinema. The first thing he did after entering your flat was take your temperature.

“S-Sorry, Zayne…” You mumbled while he got you some medication. “But… How was the movie?”

"I don't know." His voice echoed from the kitchen, where he was pouring a cup of water. 

“Huh?… Didn't you watch it?”

Zayne appeared in front of you. In one hand he carried a few pills, and in the other a glass of warm water. He spread both of them in front of you, bending down slightly to be within your reach on the sofa.

“I bought two tickets. If I only used one, the remaining would feel very lonely.”

Despite your feeble grin, it seemed as though a bit more life had been infused into the flower that was your heart.

“Sorry that I made you wait…” You replied after taking the medication. All of a sudden, you could picture Zayne sitting by himself at the cinema, two tickets in hand, soft drinks and popcorn beside him. You were filled with guilt. You felt so guilty. “You can just call me next time, if something like this happens again.”

“I did make a call.”

"Huh? I don't remember receiving any call..." 

You quickly found the phone on the table and turned it on. There were dozens of calls and messages from Zayne with no response. You must have fallen deep asleep, as you did not  know anything. 

Zayne lowered himself in front of you with one knee bent on the floor. He looked up at you, his hand gently ruffled your hair.

“"It's fortunate that you didn't get yourself into any trouble scarier than a fever.”

You grinned. Zayne treated you with gentleness as always. Even when you had stood him up, he did not get angry and came to your place to take care of you. All of a sudden, you were dying to kiss him. Yet when you softly closed your eyes and leaned towards his direction, your nose started to itch, causing you to sneeze violently and collapsing into Zayne instead.

He held you in his arms, caressing your soft hair. Just as you were about to sneeze again, Zayne snatched up a tissue from the table and carefully put it to your nose. Your hair was disheveled and your whole face reddened. You were still in your jammies with snowmen on them. You were so embarrassed to let him see you looking that unkempt. Zayne, though, only gave you a soft stroke on the face, saying that you should rest some more. He would take care of lunch. You drifted off into another dream right after Zayne carried you back to the bedroom.

When you woke up, he had finished preparing porridge and a light meal. Since you still wanted to make it up to Zayne for that movie both of you had missed that morning, you suggested another one at home. You curled up on the sofa, leaning against him. Remembering what he had mentioned during the meal earlier that there had been a seasonal flu epidemic in Linkon recently, you quickly rose up and moved far away from him, all the way to the other side of the sofa. Zayne rolled his eyes at you, wondering why you were acting so strange. 

“I don't want to give Doctor Zayne my flu…” You clarified.

Zayne smiled, shaking his head slightly. He gradually moved towards you until you were both sitting side by side like earlier. 

“I have a strong immune system. I am capable of taking care of you in every way without becoming sick."

Undoubtedly, you took Zayne's word for it and allowed him to look after you for the next few days. However, by the time you recovered, he was the one to get sick.

“I thought Doctor Zayne was so confident about his immune system.” While taking his temperature, you could not resist teasing him more.

Zayne lay on the bed without responding. His nose tip was red from excessive sneezing, and his body was heated from a fever. You took the opportunity to poke his cheek several times. His face reddened even more, and he appeared uneasy while lying still. Doctor Zayne seldom became so submissive and tolerated your bothering him to this extent.

You assisted him in taking his medication and urge him to get more rest.

“You should… go home… I'll be fine again tomorrow…” Zayne said. 

"I'm not leaving. You caught the flu from me, didn't you? It is now my responsibility to take care of you until you fully recover!"

Zayne met your determined gaze. He smiled softly. 

“Heal me then, Doc-tor.”

You leaned down, about to kiss him, but Zayne quickly put a hand on his lips to stop you.

“That is... not something we can do right now…”

You grimaced before giving his knuckles a tender kiss. 

"So you have to make it up to me later once you get better, Doctor Zayne," you said.

[whenikissedthegiyuu]

Kinktober 2024

Guided Masturbation w/ Suna Rintarou

word count 1.7k

18+ mdni. fem!reader, smut, masturbation (f and m), some might consider this dubcon due to implied alcohol consumption, cum play?, pet names (love, baby, good girl, doll), written in 2nd pov

kinktober 2024 mlist can also read on ao3

Suna choked on the water he had been drinking when you admitted you had never been able to come with your fingers alone. 

“Yeah, it just never feels good enough. I have to use a toy so I can make myself come.” You pouted as if Suna wasn’t about to bust in his pants at the image you were painting in his mind. “There’s gotta be something wrong with me. I could be hours at it.” 

You would just not shut up. Were you that oblivious to Suna’s reddened cheeks and the tent forming in his sweatpants? 

You paused, noticing your best friend wasn’t meeting your eyes. You placed your empty cup on the table. “Sorry. Was that too much? I’ll probably be embarrassed about this tomorrow morning when I don’t have alcohol in my system to give me courage.” 

He coughed, then stood up and grabbed your cups to take them to the kitchen. He could feel your eyes following his every movement, as if he would disappear if you weren’t staring at him. 

“I need another drink so I don’t remember this tomorrow.” You mumbled, standing up to follow him into the kitchen. He blocked your path when you went to reach for the fridge. 

He tsked, cornering you against the counter when you stepped back. “I will not have you puking in my bathroom again for mixing alcohol. Back to the couch, I’ll bring you water in a moment.”

You pouted again. Suna’s eyes darted down to your lips, holding back the urge to capture your jutted out bottom lip between his teeth. He quickly looked back into your eyes and took a step back, physically putting distance between the two of you before he did something that would damage your friendship. 

He released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in once you headed back into the living room, thankfully listening to him for once in your life. He followed shortly after with water for you. 

“Have you been with a lot of girls?” 

He chuckled. “Are you slut shaming me, now?”

You playfully slapped his arm. “Have you been able to make them come with your fingers alone?” You countered. 

He sighed. You wouldn’t just drop it. “Not every woman is the same.” 

You dramatically fell sideways on the couch after downing your water, your head landing on his thigh as you started to sober up. “My pussy is defective.” 

He choked on air this time. He wasn’t even sure he heard you right until he noticed you were glaring at him. 

“You’re not defective, love.” His hands found your hair and he started running his fingers through it. 

You scoffed. “How would you know?” 

The words were on the tip of his tongue. His fingers twitched with the need to slip in your sweats and make you come just so you would shut up about it. Instead he bit his tongue and kept playing with your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp as you hummed softly at the feeling. Perhaps if he kept the gentle touch long enough, you would eventually fall asleep. 

“What if you help me?” 

Or not. 

His eyes darted down to you. You turned to lay on your back so you could meet his eyes. You seemed just as surprised as he was by your own words. His hand fell on his lap, suddenly aware of your lack of bra when his gaze was inevitably drawn to your hardened nipples nearly visible through the white shirt you were wearing. 

He watched your face fall and he realized in his mental panic he hadn’t said anything at all. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” He blurted out.

But you both know that you did. You devoured the take out he ordered earlier and drank the water he gave you. Your deepening frown was clue enough that you were not drunk. 

“Sorry, again.” You said as you sat up, but he grabbed your wrist before you could go far. 

He sighed. What could go wrong? This is just to help you, he tried to defend himself in his mind. He was being a good best friend. Tomorrow he would wake up and pretend it was just a dream– a dream that he just knew he would fist his cock to every time he remembered the sound of your pretty moans and how your fingers look like stuffed in your cunt. 

“I’ll help you. Guide you, I mean. I can guide you, so you can make yourself come.”

Your lips parted and your thighs pressed together. He held back the urge to touch you. This was for you, not for him. 

It was a blur, from the moment you let out a breathy yes to when you fell back on his bed naked. Your legs were spread, held open by his hands on your knees when you tried to close them. His eyes were on your face despite the temptation to just stare down at your glistening folds. 

“Just do what you would usually do. Pretend I’m not here.”

How could you pretend your hot best friend was not kneeling down between your legs, fully clothed while you were completely exposed? You closed your eyes, but you could still see him as clearly as if they were still open. Your hands reached between your thighs, collecting your wetness in your fingertips before you started circling your clit. He hummed. 

“You’re an impatient little thing, aren’t you?” Suna murmured, grabbing your wrists and moving your hands up to your tits. “Touch them, grope them, toy with your nipples. Tease yourself until you feel your pussy dripping on my bed.” 

Your eyes were still closed, your mind wandering into dangerous territory. Your fingers circled your areola, your nipples puckering as you moved to cup your breasts instead and gently squeezed. The action had your back slightly arching off the bed. 

“That’s it, what a good girl.” Suna’s hands went back to your knees, this time rubbing soothing circles on your skin. 

You suddenly regretted asking Suna for help. You were almost sure his voice was the one making you clench around nothing, not the way your thumbs finally brushed over your nipples. A soft moan tumbled out of your lips. 

Suna looked down between your legs, then darted his eyes to your hands. “Feels good, doll?”

You nodded almost immediately. “Feels so good, Rin.”

Fuck. If you kept saying his name like that, he really was going to come in his pants like a pathetic teenager. He swallowed, his grip almost imperceptibly tightening on your knees. 

He let out a deep, albeit a bit forced chuckle. He was about to beg you to let him put his mouth on you. You would let him, he knew you would, which is why he held back. 

You pinched your nipples between your fingers, then let go to prop yourself on an elbow and reach for the hem of his shirt. “Take it off.” You asked in a soft whisper, your hand going between your legs when he obliged without much protest. He grabbed your wrist when he noticed you trying to slip a finger inside. 

“Did I say you could do that?” He snapped, his tone making you look up into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, barely visible in his half lidded gaze. “You want it to feel good, right?”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you slowly nodded. Suna bit back a groan. 

“You wanna be my good girl, don’t you?” He murmured, his hands moving to the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs spread as he laid down on his stomach. His face was so close, you felt his breath hitting your skin before his lips pressed against your knee, then your inner thigh. 

“Wanna be your good girl, Rin.” 

He smirked. “Yeah?” He breathed against your skin, fingers digging into your thighs. “Touch that clit for me, baby. You wanted to make yourself come, didn’t you?” 

You obliged, your fingers finding the sensitive nub and started to rub it in circles. Your head fell back against the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut again as your fingers quickened. You started to feel the familiar burn of an orgasm.

It was still so out of your grasp, your fingers itching to slide lower, to feel something inside you, but you didn’t want to lose this feeling. You didn’t want to risk Suna grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away again. 

“Rin,” You moaned softly, your free hand moving to grab your tit, fingers toying with your nipple. So close, so fucking close. 

Suna pressed his forehead to your leg, his hips pressing down against the mattress. “Gonna come, baby?” He nearly panted as he sat up on his knees again. 

“Only if you do too.” 

He nearly did right then and there. Your voice was breathy, growing a pitch higher as your hips bucked up. His name left your lips again and he wasted no time hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants and lowering them along with his underwear. 

“Finger this pretty pussy for me, doll. Wanna watch you clench around your fingers when you come.” His fingers wrapped around his cock, a low whine bubbling up his throat. “I’m not gonna last.” He admitted, cheeks flushed a deep red as he stroked his dick in time with your fingers. 

You propped yourself up on your elbow again, a whimper falling from your lips at the sight of your best friend fucking his fist between your legs. Your palm pressed against your clit as you curled your fingers against the spongy spot inside you. 

You came with his name on your lips, your fingers slipping out to rub your clit instead to milk your orgasm. Suna followed shortly after, gripping your thigh so tightly you were sure there would be bruises on your skin in the morning, his seed spurting out onto your pussy lips and your fingers. Your eyes rolled back at the warmth, your cunt clenching hard when you slipped your cum coated fingers inside you. 

Suna nearly came again at the sight. You could get yourself off without your toys, after all. You just needed your best friend to help you. 

[krypticcafe]

Okay so we’ve got the boys reacting to being called babygirl, but how would their partner react to being babygirlified??

When they call you babygirl (COD:MWII)

rating: mature

character(s): GN!Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" McTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, König, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Hound

warning(s): language, suggestiveness, angst, a smidge of a graphic injury, general military violence, no beta read haha

a/n: reminder to all my gn and masc readers that I'm using babygirl in a gender-neutral context and so is the reader!! Also, I can't guarantee that it'll all be lighthearted as the last part but I can guarantee y'all eatin good tonight :)))

Previous

Gaz

Funnily enough, he purrs it out when you come to bed after a long day of work, pulled into his side the moment you laid down.

"How's my babygirl doing? Good, yeah?"

You're stunned, surprised at the fact that he even used it at all.

He's amused by your reaction and presses a soft kiss to your head, making a mental note to use it more often like this.

Like him, you try not to fall too into the feeling, but he already knows the effect on you.

Luckily for you, he doesn't abuse it, but almost torments you with it, using it in private or a soft tone that only you can hear.

But you like it. It's intimate, a little special in how he uses it to get you smiling or flustered. Much like a lot of other aspects of your relationship, it's something you can trust him with and be respectful about.

Most of the time, you'll find him using it on a sleepy morning, arms around your waist with his chest against your back and his face nestled on your shoulder blade, mumbling a "mornin'" or a "how'd you sleep last night?"

For him, it's best when he can get real close to you and just pour his affections out with that simple little nickname.

He watches you stumble out of bed while he pours a cup of coffee for the two of you and smiles innocently when he offers it.

"Sleep well last night, baby-"

"You are so damn lucky I love you." You warn, taking the cup and rolling your eyes when he laughs.

Don't worry, he knows he's one lucky bastard.

Price

"Atta soldier, how's my babygirl holding up?"

He's watching proudly from afar while you finish pummeling through a group of enemies like it's nothing.

"Doin' alright Captain, we're clear to push on." You respond with confidence.

But you don't tell him that his comment through the comms alone nearly threw you off your rhythm.

He uses it again when you're all at the pub celebrating another landmark success, subtly bragging while half-drunk about how you carried the team today.

A part of you is mortified not just because Price tends to open up a little too much when he's drunk, but also because you hated the fact that you liked hearing him call you that in the first place, how you didn't need a drink for your mouth to get dry and your face warm. Not to mention it was in public—practically a declaration that you belonged to him.

Not that you minded.

His grip grows firm on your side while he speaks with admiration, your face grows warm since one, he was calling you that in front of so many others, and two, he didn't just hand out praise to anyone so when he meant it, he really meant it.

Later when you're both headed to your shared quarters, he asks, "So were you havin' a fever earlier or..?"

Of course he noticed.

You explain to him it just caught you off guard, that's all. Especially when he says it in such a way.

In the back of your head, you hoped he'd be too drunk to remember this in the morning but knowing him...

"I see... well then, we'll just have to put that to the test tonight, won't we?"

You have no objections.

Soap

"There's my babygirl, been lookin' for that smile since we been back."

After a particularly rough mission, Soap had been glued to your side for the past hour or so, talking it out with you.

When a particularly dumb joke of his finally cracked you, that's when he said it.

You groan, still laughing while leaning your head into his shoulder, muttering about how "irresistibly insufferable" he could be sometimes.

"So you admit I'm irresistible?"

That gets him a lighthearted punch on his chest and some more hearty laughter out of the two of you.

You now find him using it here and there to get a smile out of you. He's got an eye for when you're a little more tense or stressed than usual.

He doesn't use it in excess either, he's sweet and soft about it, not as casual with the pet names as some would think.

Oh, but don't take it for granted because he can and will tease you. You like to blame him for your ability to keep your guard up for so long and for his ability to somehow find new ways to break it again and again.

And while you think it's a horribly corny pet name, you know he has nothing but good intentions, and you can't ignore the way it makes your heart flutter.

He loves it too, he's a sucker for giving and receiving cheesy nicknames, stuff that really gets a reaction out of you but doesn't cross the line.

"If you don't like it, then why dinnae you give me a different thing to call you?" Cue the McTavish SmirkTM, and you wonder what he has planned this time. And like how you got yourself into this relationship- you decide to humor him.

"You already call me 'love' and 'sugar', I don't think you need any more to torment me with, McTavish."

"I don't know... I'm thinkin' 'my fiancé' sounds pretty damn good."

"But I'm not your-"

Oh.

Oh.

Ghost

You're thrown into the air and onto the ground after a blast hits, one so loud that you're left hearing nothing for several seconds.

Out of the chaos, you hear Ghost call your name, and you try to stand only to fall back into a pair of arms.

"It's me- it's me." He lowers you down onto his lap and looks over you, "Fucking hell... what did they do to you?"

You realize what he's talking about when you try to hold yourself while gasping for breath, but find a cold metal rod jutting out of your abdomen.

"Okay, I'm gonna get you up, we're gonna get to the others-" He halts when you scream out in pain and lowers you back down.

"Nonono- please Simon, it hurts, it fucking hurts so much I can't-"

His heart breaks at the sound of you choking on words, holding you closer, and trying to reassure you (and himself because he's never had his heart pounding so hard and his mask feel so damn suffocating and god dammit he can't afford to lose someone again-)

"I know, I know, I got you babygirl, I got you. It's alright now, but I'm not leaving you like this. You're gonna be alright, it's gonna be okay."

You can only nod your head, tightening your hold around his neck when he carries you. It feels pathetic every time you let out a yelp or sob of pain, but Simon's patient, he's constantly giving you reassurance and letting you know that there's just a bit more left to go. At some point, you let exhaustion take over your body.

Thankfully, you wake up laying in an infirmary bed, with a sleepless Simon at your side. "How are you feeling?" He asks.

"Could be better," You cringe at how hoarse your voice is and thank Simon when he gives you a cup of water, "You seem worse than me to be honest."

"Yeah? 'n whose fault is that? Oh right, the one who took a pipe to the stomach."

Rolling your eyes, you try to remember the last things you saw before blacking out and smirk to yourself when it comes back to you.

"So, since when were you a "babygirl" type of guy? Is it a common thing in Manchester, or are you just that soft for me, Lieutenant?"

"Maybe I should've just left you there." He groans, and you scoff, laughing as you shove at him. Even if he's shit with words, you know deep down he would never have the guts to do so.

Only a fool would.

König

Let's be honest, he'd only really say it after you've said it to him.

You don't push him, knowing he just has trouble trying to get a natural feel for it and it's not a huge deal. Plus, you already adore all the other names he's given you, most of which are more familiar and natural for him to say with them being in his native language.

Unfortunately, one night at the bar, you find someone else directing the particular nickname at you.

"Hey babygirl, what's a cutie like you doing all alone here?"

But fortunately, you were in fact, not alone.

Konig rises from the barstool behind you and his height alone should have the person pissing their pants.

"You should mind whose 'babygirl' you're talking to, arschloch."

You know what? Close enough.

You turn back to check on König and wow, that. Is. A. Sight.

König's chest rises and falls with his aggravated breathing and you find yourself lost in how intense his glare is while he watches the person scamper away. His words are on a loop in your head with how the rasp and snarl in his voice have your stomach twisting and your heart running laps.

You'd never admit it to him, but you have to repress all of your urges whenever he gets like this on the battlefield. Christ.

"You alright?" You breathlessly sigh, wrapping a hand around his.

His tension instantly melts at your touch and you smile at that.

"I should be asking you that..." He murmurs, almost ashamed as if he had any reason to be.

"Oh I'm more than fine now."

An idea comes to you.

"I'd be even better if you can tell me what you just said to them, perhaps in private? I don't think I can hear with how noisy it is in here" You snicker, tugging him closer.

You just absolutely know he's burning under that hood when his eyes go wide.

"I'm just kidding, liebe," you chuckled, taking another sip of your drink, "But honestly? That was kinda hot. Whaddya say we get outta here and cuddle tonight?"

His response is a quick and eager nod, making you laugh and whisk him away to your quarters.

Roach

Ah if only you weren't such a curious soul.

You overheard some of your teammates call each other "babygirl", which made you wonder if there was a sign for it.

You blurted out this question to your boyfriend, not thinking much of it because, hey, you always asked him about signs you weren't sure of or hadn't quite learned yet, or in this case, pure curiosity.

He stares at you dumbfounded before signing the words.

"Oh, so it's literally just 'baby' and 'girl'?"

He nods, "Yeah. What, do you want me to start calling you that or something?"

He lets out stifled laughs when he sees the look of realization on you before you throw your burning face in your hands.

"I'm a damn idiot."

"I know you are."

You nearly strangle him for that comment.

You make him forget about the conversation, but he keeps the thought in the back of his head for future reference because oh you are so gonna regret this >:)

After a mission, he comes up to you and asks, "How'd it go? My babygirl didn't get too roughed up this time, did you?"

"No, I'm good, wasn't a huge bust-" You stop organizing your gear right then and there, mentally replay what he signed, and slowly turn your head, narrowing your eyes at him. "-you little shit! I told you forget about that!"

"But you like it, don't you? You're trying so hard not to smile right now!" He gushes.

"Sanderson, I'm gonna kill you!" You run after him, chasing him around before tackling him down to the ground.

"I could get used to this." He muses, "Maybe you should call me babygirl, kinda suits me too. Oh! We should get matching patches, don't you think?"

"..."

"Wait where are you going—"

Hound

This time, you had been separated from your team for days after a mission had gone horribly wrong, with no way to communicate otherwise you'd all be jeopardized before you could be rescued.

You didn't even know if there was a rescue.

Just your luck, an enemy had you cornered with the audacity to use your own gun against you. And it was your last one, too. You brace for impact only to see them get knocked out while a voice called out your name.

It was Hound. They immediately run up to you, checking you all over, hands hovering around you worriedly, "Did he hurt you? Christ, they told me that you'd be in danger if I went but shit, how am I supposed to wait when—"

They stopped the moment you began to tremble, instantly pulling you into a tight embrace, and tucking your head in their shoulder.

"Hey hey, c'mere, it's okay. I'm here now, you're gonna be alright, it's okay." He softly repeats, and you weep in relief. "Oh babygirl... they can't hurt you anymore, I promise."

It was warm and safe.

You were warm and safe.

Hound spends the evening tending to you (you told them they didn't have to, it wasn't like you had major injuries), doing your paperwork for you, getting you food, and cleaning you up.

But all you want is to get your mind away from the events of the past few days, a distraction to feel good, feel safe, and feel loved, and he happily complies with your every need for the night.

"Figured you'd need some help after last night... sorry about that." They sheepishly mumble.

You wake up the next morning in your shared quarters, sore but in a pleasant way. The door opens and it's none other than your partner with a plate from the mess hall.

You pull them down for a quick kiss and thank them, telling them not to worry about it as you take the plate.

"You need anything else babygirl, or-"

You choke on a piece of scrambled egg, and they're already rubbing your back, holding back laughter.

"Whoops, should've waited until you were done, I didn't think you'd get so- I mean I thought after last night—" He's practically giggling now and while you'd normally relish in such a rare sight, you whine at him.

"But seriously, if you need anything, I'm there in a heartbeat."

You nod and thank whatever higher being out there for such a patient partner.

a/n pt2: hope the ghost and hound bbygirls enjoyed the "creative liberties" I took because I know I did teehee- anyways lmk how y'all feeling after that :)))

[messenger-of-babel]

Alive In Memory

Summary: Even after everything he endured, the memory of you kept him alive. Even if that meant losing you forever. (Leon S Kennedy x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: Two Leon's coming up in a row wowwwww. This was written earlier but completely just me forgetting to post since I had an event on tonight. A little OOC I believe but I'm trying to pull it back in. I'll hammer out the fanon aspects that swirl around and re-engage with the canon like I normally would, but I have SH2 now so resi replays are gonna need to chill for a bit. Much love!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon often thought about September 30th, 1998.

It was the day his life changed forever, entering as the bright eyed, kind-spirited rookie and leaving with all of that stripped away from him. His hands became stained, and he'd seen more death than ever before, coating his skin with the ashes. The years passed and he was forced to recount the story over and over, like a toy responding when it's string was pulled. He'd speak of the horrors he saw that night, the tragedy that was Umbrella, the destruction that littered the city. Yet he also remembered the night for another reason, a reason that he kept tucked away in the corners of his memory, just for him.

It was the day he lost you.

You and Leon had been dating well before he left for Raccoon City. You had shown up to every cadet function he had; arm linked with his when you went to get drinks. You got along well with his friends, you patched him up when he got bruised from falling off obstacle courses, you came to pick him up some days and you'd go get a treat down by the pier. Even after all these years he could still see your face, all rugged up and cup of tea in your hands, crook of your knees thrown over the edge of the couch. You'd stay there while he studied, a soft presence behind him while he studied, head in his hands. You were there for him always, and that included when he graduated. He had sought your eyes out first thing, seeing you in the crowd wearing an ear-to-ear grin, eyes sparkling. His chest had puffed out in pride, beaming back down at you.

That was supposed to be the start of your new life together.

The life you had both decided to build. He was planning to get a job, start off as a desk cop rookie and move his way to detective. He'd save up all his money so he could get a plane ticket to fly to your folks’ place and ask to speak to your parents about something important. He was going to save up all of his bonuses so he could buy you a pretty ring, with enough left over that you could have anything you wanted at the wedding should you choose to say yes. He loved your parents, the way they treated him like a second son. He loved you. So that's why he had no hesitance in heading to Raccoon that night. The sooner he started, the sooner that dream could come true.

"I'll be back." he said softly, kissing you on the cheek as he got into the driver’s seat. "I'll head in and see what's happening. I'll phone you."

Despite his reassurance you still frown, fingers curling around the door so he can't close it. "Didn't they call and tell you not to come?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed. "In that case shouldn't you be staying here?"

He shakes his head. "They won't respond when I ask. I think it'll be faster if I go and ask myself. I'm sure it's just a mistake. The movers are still scheduled this week to pick us up and move us in. If I get time I might get the keys to the apartment early, and we can go see it together." he smiles softly. He can see the way your jaw clenches thoughts racing around in your mind. "Hey," he says, placing his hand over yours on the door. "I'll be fine. It's not like I'm a SWAT team or S.T.A.R.S." he chuckles.

"S.T.A.R.S?" you inquire, and he waves his hand.

"They're a special task force in the RPD. Way above me." he says. He sighs, seeing you're not convinced. "Honey, I swear I'll be okay."

You fiddle before sighing yourself. "How about I pack a bag too, I'll stay at a hotel while you’re working and figure it all out. That way there's somewhere for you to sleep too if they say you've got another start date. I don't want you to drive back tired."

"And miss your big presentation tomorrow?" he raises his eyebrows. "That's super important to you. You could get promoted for that, and you've been working hard on that for weeks." he says, recalling the sleepless nights you had sacrificed. "I'll be fine." he muttered, swinging his legs out the car and standing up briefly just so he could kiss you again. You melted under the contact, fingers loosening against the door.

"I'll be fine." he soothed you for the millionth time, offering you his boyish grin before sitting back in the car and buckling himself in. "Go get some rest."

"Love you." you say quietly, hand coming through the window to grip his shoulder as he turned the engine over. He smiles, hand coming off the wheel to cover yours and give it a squeeze.

"I love you too."

And then he was gone, pulling out of the driveway while your eyes chased his taillights into the darkness. Little did you know that he had kept his eyes trained on the tears staining your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, heart panging as he saw you on the rearview mirror shrink smaller and smaller.

No, he hadn't lost you, you had lost him.

he had survived Raccoon with the desperateness to go back to you, your parents, his family. He cursed himself constantly. He shouldn’t have come, he should have listened to you, he should have thought about it a bit more. Yet if he could go back, he'd make the same mistake again and again, unable to stop the thoughts that there could be someone in trouble if he had never come. He just thanked every god above that he hadn't caved when you had asked to come with, his heart settling knowing that you were safe (albeit worried) back in your home. When he had finally gotten out of Raccoon, all he wanted was a cold shower and to go back to your shared place. To take a break and scrub his brain of everything he had seen. His hands shook when he wiped his face of the grime, uniform biting into his skin and making him feel like he was suffocating.

he wondered if you would be angry at him when he told you he wanted to quit the force after a single day.

Yet he never got a chance.

They had been intercepted almost immediately after the city was destroyed. At first he felt relief, he thought he had been rescued. That it would all be over soon, and you were closer than ever. However, it turned out to be quite the opposite. He was locked in a room with some agents for the better half of a day, wearing him down till he agreed to work with them. he was unable to return to his old life, everyone and everything that had made him who he weas before Raccoon.

 He could no longer go to you.

They redacted his files, pulled his documents and ID. He sat there with dull eyes seeing his digital footprint be wiped from the map, all the photos of you together being deleted off his media before his account was shut all together. He had managed to keep that flame of himself alive all through the city ordeal, but with each deleted image it flickered more and more until eventually, it was extinguished with a defeated breath.

They had put him almost immediately in the army training, all of their communication monitored. Every day he still thought of you, writing you letters you'd never get. He knew they were burning them, the way he'd drop it in the collection box for soldiers knowing that would be the lasty time he saw them. He liked to imagine differently, that instead of being sent to the burner they made their way back to you. You would know that he was still alive and hadn’t been caught in the explosion. That he loved you, and he wished more than anything that he could go home. He imagined the letters decorating your mantle or filling up in a shoebox while you waited for him to come home, instead of his handwriting curling with tongues of flame until his words never existed.

As the years past they broke him in more and more, until he was an agent with the DSO, no longer a flight risk and allowed to be unclipped from his leash. It was nearly a year after he had gone to Spain and rescued Ashley that he found himself in a bar in some big city, hunched over the whisky he knocked back. He kept himself holed up in the corner, obscured in the shadows and scowling at anyone that came too close, leaving the booth free to himself.

He spent a lot of nights like this now, fiddling with the callouses on his fingertips while he counted the grains in the wood table. Until a laugh makes him pause, head rising. With the chiming of the bar door, a group of women all walk in. He watches as they settle at a reserved table near the bar, and when the sea of dresses part his heart stops in his chest.

 It was you. Older and more mature, but you nonetheless. It didn’t matter that you had worn your hair differently, he could still point out the way it framed your face so nicely, eyes the same sparkling colour he remembered. The lines of your face, the arch of your nose, the dip of your lips, he had committed all of it to memory in those long nights alone. He studied your face like a saint, the image permanently etched in his mind’s eye.

His fingers twitched with the urge to go to you, to see if you remembered him. If you could still tell it was him under all the scars and bruises, and the way his lips always sat in a frown now. If you could still see that his eyes were the same shade as always, even if they had dulled a little. If you would still tell his hands were the same when they interlocked with yours, even if they were calloused and rough now. He pushes his drink to the side, standing up slightly before he gets a look at what you are wearing and slowly lowers himself back down.

The hope that was in his chest sputters out, and he bites back the bitter taste of reality. Of course, just because his life before Raccoon got frozen, doesn't mean that yours was. To you, he had died in a horrific incident and was a number among the thousands of deaths. You still had to dry your tears and go to work the next day and the next and the next, knowing he wasn't going to be coming home. You had pursued your career undoubtedly, winding up in the big city, and now you were in this bar seven years later wearing a white sash printed 'BRIDE' in gold lettering. He calmed the shake in his hands with a trained breath, hanging his head.

He was happy for you. He was happy, knowing that him leaving hadn't destroyed your life. The question of what you were doing now, that he thought about every single night, was finally answered. You were alive. you were happy. You were getting married, just like he had always wanted to.

 He slips a hand into his shirt, fingers toying with the worn silver chain. He tugs it to look at the silver engagement band lying there. It had always been fruitless, and honestly quite selfish of him. However, Leon couldn't find it in his to scold his past self, still a lovesick puppy who had been kicked in the ribs by life. He couldn't scold the young man who had taken a walk down the main street the day he got his very first pay check working as an agent. Sure, there were still a few eyes on him, he could see them trailing him, but he couldn’t care less. The pay was good, exceptionally so, which allowed him to push open the glass doors of the jewellers and pick out a ring. It was your favourite stone and your favourite cut, things he had asked your parents before he had left. he knew it wouldn't ever reach you, but it soothed the young man at night when he was restless and tormented by nightmares.

He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, watching at how it still had a spark of light despite how worn it had become from missions and late nights alike. He tucked it back inside, closing his eyes to recall the face of you like he remembered, looking at him as he shut that car door.

He never should have left.

he then opened them and looked up, taking a mental snapshot of what you looked like now, the way you smiled and the way you laughed.

he needed to leave.

Silently he slips from the bar, a few bills left under his half-drunk glass. He casts one last glance at you, smiling softly. He has to pry the fingers of his rookie self off of his chest, his young love making his heart beat faster. Eventually the internal war ends, the young cop backing off and slipping back into the corner of his mind that Leon had shoved him into. When your eyes meet, he's already leaving, controlling the clench in his fists.

You were happy. You were safe now.

 Your girlfriends are giggling and drinking around you, chatting with each other as you celebrate your bachelorette. The night has been fun, attention focused wholly on your future. However, the ringing of the bar bell manages to steal your attention for a moment, making you look up from your drink. You catch the eye of a man as he walks out the door, a jolt of lightning running down your spine and hair raising on your arms. His eyes that were so deeply familiar yet foreign to you, then they were gone. You see a glimmer in the eyes of a stranger that leaves the bar. It might’ve just been the alcohol or melancholic speeches your entourage has been reciting all night, recalling the ‘good old days’. That’s what logic dictated to you.

But when you listened to your heart for a split second, a barely tangible moment, you saw a glimpse of a young police academy graduate you knew years ago, a glimmer of a young boy you once loved but now struggled to recall the name of.

[blkgirl-writing]

Valentine's day drabble HCs for the men of BG3 x Reader

These are a collection of small drabbles written in different styles for valentines day! Warning Gales is the longest, whoops.

Gale:

Gales cold warm hands grasped around your waist from behind, squeezing your skin gently as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"The earl grey lavender, please-" He kissed your neck softly, speaking in a quiet tone. It was a perfect day inside his tower, the rays of sun beaming through the stained glass, fluttering rainbows across the cozy kitchen. The kettle whistles quieting down as you took it off the stove.

"It's already in the mug, lovely" You gestured to his favorite mug, a heavy stoneware piece decorated with flowers of purple and pink encased in a golden heart, he said it reminded him of when he realized he had loved you. You never fully asked why, but it made enough sense to be sweet.

"How you know me so well." Gale Smiled. You finished pouring the water and handed him his extra-strong tea. He leaned against the counter, blowing on the drink a few times. "Maybe I should have told you earlier, but I do have a surprise for you."

"I thought we said no gifts!" You batted his shoulder playfully, "though I'll admit, I didn't follow that rule either."

"is that so?" Gale leaned in to kiss your lips through a smile. "We just can't seem to help ourselves."

"So what's this gift?" you asked. He set down his own mug, ducking into the pantry to retrieve a box, unwrapped and simple. He placed it on the counter and patiently waited, his excitement barely hidden in his smile.

You opened the small box to reveal a mug, a matching mug to his, but a dark blue with purple and red flowers, with a silver heart. It was gorgeous, less heavy than his and somehow it felt built to hold within your two hands.

"Oh Gale, it's perfect." You kissed his cheek, refusing to let go of the mug quite yet, the hug would have to wait.

"I had it specifically made by the same artist. Tara now has a similar water bowl as well. She felt left out" Gales hand slipped around your waist yet again. "as much as I love it when you steal my mug, I thought it was beyond time you had your own as well."

"Oh so you didn't want me using yours?" Your teasing turned into pecks, which led to kisses- "Your gift is waiting in the bedroom," You smirked, hand caressing his messy hair. "If that's ok, of course,"

"I was secretly hoping that was the case." His hand intertwined with yours, nearly sweeping you off your feet.

Wyll:

Wyll had been staring at you for some time before you'd woken up, the sun shining down on your resting face, the definition of peaceful. Wyll hadn't remembered pure peace, it had been years since he'd felt fully at rest, but with you, calmness was as easy as breathing. All he had to do was look at you, and he remembered serenity.

He had made sure he was the best man for you, the best man he could be. He loved you with all his heart and made sure you felt like a goddess above every waking moment of your lives together, however long that may be. He loved the small moments you shared, like when you'd tripped and nearly fallen, but straight into his arms. "Well I didn't think you'd be falling head over heels for me this fast," He'd said. And you'd laughed and smiled, and he swore he'd do everything to keep that smile on your perfect lips.

He remembered your first date, where he had tried so hard to reserve a seat at the best restaurant in baldurs Gate, but ended up in a dingy bar, getting more drunk with each cup, and instead of spending the night entangled in each other's bodies, you'd shared barely cohesive thoughts and stories from lives long past. He learned your favorite color, your old friendships, and the star that you felt most connected to, the smaller details that never seemed to have enough time for during your big adventure.

Or the time you'd styled his hair into braided buns, which he'd kept in until his hair was frizzy and far past wash day. But you'd worked so hard on it to be perfectly symmetrical that he never wanted to take out your work. He asked you to help him with his hair, after that, not just because you were good at it, which, hells, you'd made him feel confident in himself for the first time since he grew his horns, but because your light touch sent him into a nearly meditative state of bliss. The way your fingers carefully combed through his hair, spending time to detangle each knot with such care that he had barely noticed it at all. And eventually, you'd taught him how to do your hair, too. Eventually wearing matching styles (if he asked politely), and took turns in the "hair chair"

"Honey?" You whispered, groggy and barely awake, "have you been staring at me again?"

"Is it a crime?" Wyll asked, placing a light kiss on your forehead.

"Only if I was drooling"

"Oh, but you look too adorable when you drool." He chucked, holding you closer to his warm chest.

"Shut up..." You pouted, eyes fluttering open and closed, trying to force yourself awake. But sleep had you tight in it's arms, and so did Wyll.

Astarion:

Red was his favorite color, after all. The room was dripping with it, black, gold, and dark, burgundy. Candles dripping hot wax down into careful carafes, soon to be poured and decorating your skin. It was romantic, it was warm, and it was lustful. Astarions eyes never left you, dancing across your body in pure sin, he clearly knew exactly how your night would unfold, and the only hint he'd give you was the devilish smile on his lips.

"It's going to be a long night, hm?"

"Oh yes, darling" Astarion purred, his hand sliding into your hair and pulling downwards, revealing your neck to him. His fangs scraped against your bare skin, but not piercing it, no, that was for later, with much less clothing and a lot more sweat, when all you could see was his snow-white skin and the blood rushing through your veins.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[peacheeeliz]

029. very demure, very cutesy (wc: 909)

“Hey, hey, let's sit down for a bit,” Yunho's soft voice rings through your ears as he hovers his hand behind your lower back. He takes hold of your hand, helping you down to the floor of the closet. “You gotta be careful, pretty.”

In any other situation, your cheeks would flush at the pet name that falls from his lips and the placement of his hands. But after being locked in your hallway closet by none other than Wooyoung, your blood boiled with anger. Quiet curses for your friend left your mouth, along with incoherent murmurs that Yunho couldn't help but chuckle at.

“You look really pretty tonight,” he tells you in hopes that it'll take your mind off Wooyoung for a moment. He cups your cheek, turning your gaze away from the door and toward him. “I haven't been able to tell you yet.”

Finally, any trace of Jung Wooyoung leaves your mine, and you lean into the man's warm touch. Your eyes flutter shut, too drunk to even remember why you were mad just seconds prior. Yunho smiles softly at you, rubbing his thumb across your cheek gently. “I don't think you and Hongjoong should drink together again. You enable each other too much.”

You whine, “we do not. He's my Jjoongrami buddy,” you tell him, letting your eyes open again. “You're gonna take away my Jjoongrami buddy?”

“If you can tell me how much you've drank tonight, then I won't,” he teases, watching the way your eyes struggle to focus in the dimly lit closet. “And you know I'd hate to do that. Your yapping earlier was just too cute.”

You bring your finger up to his lips, shushing him as blush rises to your cheeks. “I haven't drank that much. Just a little bit,” you say, trying to count how many shots you've had with your free hand. “What was it? Three shots? Four? No, two. Definitely two.”

“Try fifteen,” he corrects, shaking his head. “I have no idea where you got two from, sweetheart.”

You try to push his hand away, ears shining red at the second pet name of the night. “Stop saying stuff like that,” you tell him, huffing.

“Stuff like what, pretty?” He questions, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You've got to be more specific.”

“Like that,” you repeat, turning away from him. “Pretty and sweetheart, it makes my heart flutter.”

“Then you've got to stop calling me baby,” he answers, letting out a light laugh. He waits until you turn back to him, “it makes my heart flutter, my stomach twist and turn. I could go on.”

“I wish it was easier for us to be together,” you pout, cupping both of his cheeks. You squish them together, giggling at his puffed out lips. “Why did you have to be an idol? Why did Yuyu have to be an idol? The first streamer I have a crush on, and he's a member of Ateez.”

“Pretty, it doesn't have to be as hard as you think it'll be,” he tells you, grabbing ahold of your hands and pulling them away from his face. He brings them down to his lap, continuing to hold onto them. “I don't care what anyone says, okay? I just want to be with you.”

Your eyes soften at his words, causing him to feel a pang in his heart. “I can go without streaming, but I can't go without being with you,” he continues. “I'm glad you were the first streamer I decided to get close to. I'm glad I'm so bad at Minecraft that I accidently killed you in our first interaction.”

You let out a laugh at his comment, shaking your head. You hesitate to speak up, “Yun, you don't mean that. Of course, you would care about what people say. This is your career we're talking about here.”

“No, we're not talking about my career,” he says, smile faltering. “We're talking about us, pretty. Me and you. I don't want you to care about my job, my company, or my fans. Just care about me.”

He leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and gentle against your skin. “Please, just think about me for now. We can worry about everything else when we need to,” he whispers, smiling down at you.

He watches you nod slowly, blushing even more at his words and gentle gesture – if it was even possible. He leans in to press another soft kiss to your lips, the taste of alcohol and your cherry lip gloss lingering on his own lips.

Your heartbeat quickened at the unannounced gesture, but you couldn't stop yourself from melting into the kiss. One of his hands reaches up to circle the side of your face, while the other finds its place hovering over your back to pull you in closer to him.

“Fuck yeah!” The two of you hear from the other side of the closet door, from none other than Jung Wooyoung. You pull away from each other, hearing the boy continue to ramble in the other room. “I told you this shit would work, didn't I?”

Despite your annoyance, you smile when you see the shine of your lip gloss on Yunho's lips. You bring your thumb up to wipe it away, “just me and you.” He breaks out into a big smile at your words, pulling you back in for another kiss.

synopsis ⤏ you're trying to peacefully build your starter house on the empires server when your neighbor so rudely (accidentally) kills you, starting the biggest war on the server just one day in.

a/n: just one more chapter to go 🥲 i'm so sad but at least yucloudz are together!!

prev / masterlist / next

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist is closed!

@davinashifts333 @potatos-on-clouds @s0shroe @staytinyluv @teenyfinds @weasleys-wizard-weasleys @borahae-reads @starryunho @dalsuwaha @oddin4ry @aerivrs @rosescarlettx @deptheuphoria @ateezswonderland @busy-daydreaming02 @00iheartmingi00 @jaytheatiny @txpxwxk

[kakujis]

do you love me? 2;

synposis: they wake you up at 3am to ask if you love them. pt 1 here. 3 + 4

warnings: gn!reader, clingy bfs, no set timeline, kazutora's is a lil sad, insecurities, implications of cheating(there is none tho). not proofread!

feat: kakucho, kazutora, izana.

a/n: after i wrote the first part, i wanted to do the same thing but switched! this is the most flowery, fluttery, butterflies searching for a drink type beat drabble i've ever written. i haven't written like this in a while soo i hope it makes sense lol. the tone of kaku's is a lil different because i started his first oops! also big ty to @fuyuluvr for helping me finish izana's bit. ♡

kakucho had never once doubted you, not when you’ve told him he’s the sun and the moon and the reason why the stars gather in the night sky, cheesy words always getting a hot blush on his face. how could he, when you’ve barreled through the doors of your shared apartment to jump into his waiting arms, peppering kisses along his jaw, whines of “i missed you! i missed you!”. 

but it’s hard lately when he finds you and rindou with hushed voices at the gym, sitting on a bench, sheepish grins on your faces when he approaches to ask what the two of you have been talking about. 

“nothing!” you exclaimed, slipping your phone back into your pocket, scooting farther from the blonde beside you. “i’m gonna head out okay? i’ll see you later.” you exchanged one more glance with rin who nodded to you. kakucho remembers the surprised look on your face, when he pulled you into a particularly tight hug pressing his lips to your forehead, “see you at home,” you said, eyes softened before breaking free and walking out. 

he tried his best to not pry throughout his workout, tried his best to not get angry when rindou asked, “you alright?” when he noticed the particularly quick responses that kakucho was throwing at him. 

“yeah, i’m fine.” he assured, fighting the urge to accuse his friend of anything nefarious. but man was it hard with this little nail in his heart hammering away at his insecurities and worst fears. maybe it was time to take izana’s advice and “just ask them about it.” 

and that’s how he ended up here, sitting awake at 3am listening to the tick of a clock. even in your sleep you clung on to him, drooling and snoring on his arm. 

gently, he reaches over to shake your shoulder. the shift made you cling harder, eliciting a whine from your sleepy state. kakucho chuckles, before he shakes a little bit harder, already feeling a little silly at his concerns. 

“you awake yet?” he asks when you finally start to blink your eyes and glance up at him. 

“hi,” you yawn, using your hand to wipe at your drool, “what time is it?” you prop yourself up, squinting at the clock on the wall. 

“like 3am.” he says, unable to hold back the smile on his face as he studies your sleepy expression.  

“hmm? why are we awake then?” you yawn again, droopy lids starting to fall again, but kakucho stops you before you’re able to fall asleep. 

“wait,” he mutters, pulling you up so that you’re pressed against his chest and facing him. he places his hands on the sides of your cheeks, staring straight into your drowsy eyes. “do you love me?” 

the question catches you off guard, you’ve never seen him so serious before. there’s a crease in his brow and his heterochromatic eyes hold something like worry, something that’s scared, as if you’d say no. 

you blink off the sleep that once riddled your bones before scowling, “kaku.. what kinda question is that? of course i love you.” you assert, squirming until you’re straddling him. you place your hands on top of his own, prying one down to lace with your fingers. “why?” 

he looks away, burning under your gaze, “it’s nothin’,” he mumbles, dropping his other hand from your face. but since you’re fully awake now, the haze of sleep gone, you catch on fast, the wheels in your head rewinding back to earlier that day at the gym.

“ohh,” you hum, removing your hand from his and cupping his face this time so that he’ll look at you. “is this because of earlier? with rindou?” 

“maybe..” he says, eyes darting away from yours, “it’s just weird you don’t want me to hear what you two are talking about and it’s also not the first time so...” 

you sigh, climbing off of him and reaching over to the nightstand on your side of the bed to grab your phone. settling back next to him, you unlock the screen and click on your messages. you wiggle your phone at him adding, “i’ve got nothing to hide, see?” before you open the texts with rindou:

y/n: HEY

rindou 🙄: hi

y/n: IS PROJECT KAKUCHO STILL A GO??

rindou 🙄: project kakucho??? 

y/n: dont tell me u forgot… his birthday is coming up!!!

the conversation continues with the plans the two of you had made specifically for kakucho’s birthday, the venue, the people invited, what kind of cake you should get, etc. you scroll slowly, periodically glancing up at your boyfriend as the blush on his face deepens. probably from a mixture of embarrassment and the way every mention of his name has some type of adjective describing how cute he is. 

“see? i wanted to surprise you.” you say, beginning to hand the phone over, “you can scroll up even earlier if you want.” 

“no, i trust you…” he says before taking your phone and putting it down on the nightstand. “sorry, that was sort of stupid of me.” honestly, he had completely forgotten about the occasion, it was just another day for him. 

you shake your head, “well.. i can’t blame you. if i’m thinking about it from your perspective, i’d probably be a little suspicious too.” 

he blinks, caught off guard by the way you agreed without a hint of sarcasm. “really?” 

you nod, “yup… especially if i didn’t trust my partner, cmon now! rindou?” you tease and he groans out another “sorry.” 

“couldn’t you have thought i had a crush on one of your cute friends?” you scoff, crossing your arms. 

“rindou is cute though.” he says quickly and matter of fact, not really processing what he’s just said. 

“huh?”

“he’s… y’know, he’s good looking.” he repeats, gesturing with his hands and glancing down at you. your face is unreadable as you take in the information, those little gears in your head turning again. 

“hm. well, if he’s so good looking then you should totally date him.” you joke, trying your best to keep a straight face. 

“that’s not what i meant!” kakucho exclaims, running his hands down his face and you laugh. 

“gimme my phone, i’ll set you up.♡” you chime, holding your hand out. “besides i think he’s into you too! totally checks you out at the gym.” 

“can you stop?!” 

kazutora: 

kazutora has an annoying little habit, where he doubts if you really love him, which culminates in late night questioning. you’ve assured him many times before that you don’t mind, you’ll tell him as many times as he wants and you’ll reassure him whenever he’s doubtful, but he hates it. this little worm of insecurity that digs its way through his stomach, his chest, until it makes it up into his brain, shaking and bouncing off it’s walls until he can’t take it anymore. 

he hates this feeling, more so because he knows it’s stupid, he knows there’s no reason for it, there’s never been any indication for it and yet, he still cries or lashes out because of it. like maybe he's not that good of a person, maybe he's not what you need, and maybe he'll never be enough. what better time for insecurity to sink it’s fangs in than the dead of night? 

he rolls over, cheek squished against the pillow. reaching over to quickly pull you closer to him, back against his chest. you shift a little, rousing out of sleep, tilting your head up towards his with a little curl of a smile. it’s so easy to read him now and pick up on his mood changes, but you think nothing negative, instead feeling warm that sometimes he’s so vulnerable with you, searching for his security like a child looking for their favorite blanket. 

“hi tora,” you mumble, voice heavily laced with sleep, “what’s wrong baby?” he doesn’t answer at first, the only response to you being an even tighter squeeze under his muscled arms. you respond back, wriggling under his touch, pressing so far into him it’s as if the two of you are trying to mold together and become one. 

“do you love me?” he asks, voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“i’ve never loved anything more,” you proclaim and kazutora gives a little needy whine while his hands start to wander up the expanse of your skin and you giggle as his touch tickles you under the sheets. 

“you’d pick me every time?” he asks, the heaviness in his heart lightening with each breathy giggle of “that tickles!” but it’s his way of comforting himself, whether it’s running his hands over your bare skin or inserting them into your jacket pockets while he holds you from behind, kazutora finds solace in the warmth of your body. 

“mhm! every time, without a doubt! now stop!” you say in between laughs, desperately trying to push his hands off of you but he’s stronger, hands curling into the plush fat of your side and you yelp. “toraa!” 

“hmm?” he teases, continuing his relentless assault. but the way you’re kicking and squirming has his hold on you weakening. you’re unable to fully control your movement, thrashing as your elbow flies back, hitting him right in the stomach. “ow, fuck!” he groans, releasing you and rolling over. he grimaces as he places a hand where you hit him, curling inwardly on himself. 

out of breath, you roll onto your knees, sitting up while you scoot closer to him. one hand rests on your side, aching from your previous uncontrollable laughter. 

“not my fault.” you pant when he glances up at you with puppy dog eyes. “i told you to stop.” you roll your eyes at him, but the pout gracing his face persists and you give in. you bend over, brushing away stray blonde locks from his face before you bend down and give him a kiss. “sorry.” 

“s’okay,” he grins, eyes crinkling as he pulls you back down into his embrace. there’s a few minutes of silence, the only noise being the occasional swivel of fabric underneath your feet as readjust every so often. “you really meant it, right?” he asks, breaking through the silence, that pesky little worm still rearing it’s ugly head in his thoughts.

“every word.” you reply, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. you place a finger on his lips as you continue, hoping to dispel the rest of his worries. “in any dimension, in any lifetime. if i could live a thousand lives, i’d pick you every time.” 

he blinks before he’s pushing your head down to rest on his chest. there’s no vocal response, instead only the tremble of his body as his grip on you turns crushing, one hand’s fingers intertwined with the tresses of your hair. you realize now that it was due to his embarrassment, a silent plea to just this once, not look at him as his relief spills out as fat, droplet tears that run down his face and onto yours. but it’s okay, you’ve always embraced the rain. 

izana:

izana thinks its insane every time you pull at the that strings that hold together his weary heart. but you pluck at them with each call of his name that rolls off your tongue like a siren call, entrancing and pulling him towards you and only you. with those vibrations he seeks you like a moth to a flame, fluttering towards your light and basking in the glow. 

heavy and sluggish, he trudges up the stairs to your shared apartment inwardly cursing about how late it is. the plan is to take a shower and get in bed as quietly and quickly as possible. you’re definitely asleep by now, so he tries his best to enter silently, not wanting to wake you. but as he tiptoes into your bedroom, the sight of you asleep huddled under the covers as you hug izana’s pillow has him falling onto the bed, gently taking the pillow from your arms and replacing it with himself. 

you scrunch your face as you awaken, heavy lidded eyes blinking and adjusting to the blurry image of izana before you. pretty lavender eyes watch you with a small upturned grin that grows wider at your, “mm?” the chirrup of your voice like the birdsongs in the morning. izana thinks you’re the prettiest melody, better than any song on the radio or classical composition. 

“good morning.” he says and you tilt your head quizzically, squinting at the alarm clock on your nightstand, the lull of sleep still beckoning you over. 

“it’s 3am, zana,” you whine when you read the red blink of numbers, trying to roll over but he holds you still, arms wrapped around your hips. 

he shrugs, a smirk on his face. “and?” 

“and i was sleeping.” you mumble, irritation lacing through your voice before frowning and closing your eyes. 

the quirk of his grin falls, settling into a line, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. he knows he came home late and he knows it’s probably annoying to be woken up, yet he was hoping you’d still be excited to see him, to be with him.

“do you love me?” he asks, knowing it’s a dumb question. your reaction is normal, but being around you makes him feel abnormal, and he’s so greedy for everything you’ve got. he thinks you’ll reprimand him again for keeping you awake, but instead you hum when he starts to caress your face, the pad of his thumb running over your skin in airy strokes.

“mhm. i love, love you.” you reply, happily keening up into his touch, pressing your cheek further into his hand. 

“say it again,” he says and you open one eye, quirking an eyebrow. you almost say, “really?” but the insecurity dancing in his eyes stops you and you comply.

“i love you.” you say again, a little louder this time. 

“again.” he commands.

“izana..” you huff. you know him, this could go on for hours if you gave in. 

“just one more time, please?” he pleads hanging onto his last word. he’s never told you, but this is his favorite song, the kind that always gets stuck on replay in his head. the one that he puts on to comfort him when the outside noise of daily life is a little too loud. 

“i love you.” you sigh, conceding and punctuating it with a quick peck on his lips and he grins. “happy now?” 

he nods, “i’ll never get tired of hearing that.” he presses a kiss to your cheek, letting you settle back into a more comfortable position. you lay with your back to his chest, as he cages you from behind. “now get some sleep, its late.” 

you’re quick to look back at him, eye brow raised in disbelief.  “you’re literally the one who woke me up?” 

“shh, that doesn’t matter, just go to sleep.” 

“but-“ 

“good night, love.” he interrupts, thinking that he should record it the next time you sing him such a pretty number. 

[icallhimjoey]

Explain Us

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: So, more than flatmates... but, what exactly? Would be fantastic if you would just, you know, talk about it. But communicating is not your strong suit and you're extremely certain that it's fine. Confusing and vague, but, fine.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, a continuation of define close, no need to read it to enjoy this, though it will help! 18+ smut

Author’s note: there's an attempt at communication! hurray!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Shittest night of sleep ever? Yea. Shittest night of sleep ever.

It could not be true that in this short amount of time you no longer were able to fall asleep on your own like a normal person. That you needed another body next to you in order to let it catch you and drag you under.

But you’d barely slept. And the sleep that you did get was of the lightest variety, which barely even counted as sleep, you thought.

You had half expected maybe to wake up in Joe’s bed in the morning. Weirdly hoped that you would’ve sleepwalked right over into his room when you subconsciously heard him come home.

You had also half secretly wished that Joe would’ve made his way over and snuck into your bed upon finding his own cold and empty.

Neither happened.

Which was actually devastating.

But you had to pretend it wasn’t.

You were just flatmates, remember?

So you woke up in your own bed the same way you’d gone to sleep; by yourself, all alone, tired as fuck, and being stared at by Joe’s little plant.

Joe’s little plant that, deep sigh, desperately needed watering.

With a low grumble stuck in the back of your throat, you got up and out of bed and went to feed that little plant. Meanly whispered, “You don’t even belong here.” to it as you poured some water from the cup that held your toothbrush in your ensuite.

You immediately felt bad for it, and followed it up with a soft, “No, I’m sorry, you do. I just haven’t slept well. Sorry.”

Idiot.

Talking to a plant.

You needed some coffee.

Joe’s bedroom door was closed, which checked out, he was probably sleeping off a hangover. But halfway through breakfast, you heard the front door open and frowned in confusion. Your mind shot over who the fuck that could be besides Joe. Who else had a key beside both your mums?

But then, a sweaty, wet, rosy-cheeked Joe walked in, all out of breath, already pulling his T-shirt over his head that he then used to rub at his curls before pushing them back.

You nearly chocked on your bite of toast.

Joe smiled, still panting, and leant both arms on the island right next to you. Bent all the way down to do some stretching, and then stood up, only to lean over and take a bite from the piece of toast you were still holding.

If you’d have been more alert, you’d have moved it out of his way.

But, clearly, you were not more alert.

Not your fault, though. Clearly.

“Morning,” he grinned, breathing through flared nostrils as he chewed.

You comically blinked and checked your wrist that didn’t hold a watch for the time.

“What the... are you still drunk?”

Joe laughed as he opened the fridge, fishing out something to drink. He found a bottle of water and you watched him closely as he gulped some of it down.

“What time did you even get in?”

“Not that late,” Joe shrugged, “Two-ish, I think?”

You saw how he eyed the breakfast you were still holding, and yea, you weren’t that hungry anyway. You dropped whatever there was left onto your plate and slid it across. Joe happily went for the scraps.

“And already all alert and awake at,” you tapped your phone to actually check the time and grimaced. “Oh, never mind.”

It was nearing in on half 9.

Felt much earlier. Probably because you’d barely slept.

“You should try it,” Joe said, eyes on what he was about to shove into his mouth, all casual, like he wasn’t half naked and shiny with his own sweat. Wet curls trying to creep onto his forehead like their life depended on it. Cheeks all red and blotchy. “Come running with me sometime. Really makes you feel useful first thing.”

You scoffed at him despite how good he looked.

Shit. He looked so good.

But Joe had said that like you didn’t get up early to go to work five days a week. Like you didn’t leave him in his bed only to turn over and go back to sleep once you’d left.

“Um, I’ve been useful plenty, mind you.”

“Oh yea?”

“Watered your plant first thing.”

“My plant?”

“Your plant.”

Joe’s eyes scanned you for a second, and you almost grew shy.

“It’s in your room.”

And with that, Joe rounded the island and bent to push his face into your neck where he left a wet raspberry that made you squeal before he left for a shower.

You didn’t talk about how you’d slept in separate beds for the first time in ages. You didn’t mention how your arm had reached across several times in search of him, and how you’d felt stupid for it every single time you remembered he wasn’t there.

At least breakfast hadn’t been awkward.

He was insane for walking in like a wet dream, sure. But it was ultimately all fine.

And it wasn’t like you ever talked about anything ever before. If anything, this was as normal as it had ever been between the two of you.

So you went about your day. Had many important activities to do. All crucial business. Almost too much for just one girl, but you know, you were a real go getter.

You moved the little plant from your dresser to your windowsill where it would get some actual sunlight, and then fell asleep on the sofa to some bad TV.

Like you’d said; crucial business.

The evening came around fast, and after your shower, you found yourself sat on the floor by the foot of your bed. Your nose stung from the open bottle of nail polish remover by your feet, and you felt how it dried the absolute shit out of the skin of your toes as you’d forgotten to get the acetone free kind.

Across the hall you could hear Joe brush his teeth in the bathroom, and you silently prepared yourself for another night of shitty sleep.

You didn’t know if you could muster up a stupid excuse to sneak into his bed tonight, and after sleeping apart, it felt like there was a new threshold in place. One that was too high. If Joe wasn’t going to invite you over, you probably wouldn’t.

You’d moved onto your second foot when you heard footsteps coming closer, and then Joe appeared in the doorway to your bedroom.

Obviously, you immediately noticed him.

Didn’t mean that you also had to immediately acknowledge him, though.

You kept eyes on the task at hand, using a thumb to really push down on a cotton round that tinted pinker with every swipe.

Joe just stood there, leant against the side and you tried to imagine what Joe was looking at. You were sat on your rug like a dirty little gremlin, inhaling chemical fumes that would leave you loopy if you didn’t close that bottle soon.

You eventually cracked and went, “What?” without looking up.

You could feel Joe smile.

“Looks good there, in the window.” he commented, and that did make you look up, finally. You followed Joe’s gaze and turned to look at his crispy wave that you’d placed there.

You knew Joe was just making conversation, but you didn’t really know what to say. For a moment, it was quiet and you both just... look at the plant.

Then, you let your filter drop a second and surprised yourself when you said, “We got caught yesterday.”

You said it before you looked at him, and you were glad for it. When you did turn your head his way, he was already frowning in confusion. You were glad you hadn’t seen him go from a cheeky smile into that muddled glower.

“What do you mean?”

“I told her. Had to, tell her. She asked.”

You didn’t even say what you told her. You trusted he’d get it. So many things went unsaid with you, surely, this could be one of them.

You were right, because in true flatmate fashion, Joe didn’t ask.

Instead, you watched his face change back into a soft amusement as he lowly chuckled to himself. Looked down at his bare feet. Nodded and sighed. Visibly dropped his shoulders.

You didn’t understand what was funny.

But you also didn’t ask.

And then, Joe turned and just... left. Walked back over to his own bedroom.

What the fuck did that mean?

You should’ve just asked.

You didn’t. Of course.

You had a task to do. Two of your toenails were still red. And the skin of your fingers was starting to stain now too.

You finished up, cleared all your toenails of the chipped polish and kept your ears pricked up. You could hear Joe’s wardrobe doors slide a few times. The clinking of his metal hangers. Things being dropped to the floor.

Weird time for a wardrobe clear-out, but, you kind of got it. You’d just mentioned it for the first time... ever? In front of him. Said you’d spoken to a friend about it. You’d just told Joe you’d talked about something intimate and secret between the two of you that you had never even spoken about to each other. It was at least a little unsettling, wasn’t it?

You remembered the last time you’d gotten weird news at a similar time of day and had decided that you needed to clean the kettle at half 11 on a Thursday.

People coped how they coped.

It was fine.

You double checked if the rug had any pink marks on, were glad to find that it hadn’t even though you hadn’t exactly been very careful, when you heard Joe’s wardrobe doors slide shut.

You paused.

Waited for the noise of him getting into bed.

The rustling of his duvet.

But then he suddenly called, “You coming?” and despite yourself, you smiled. Tried to bite it into your mouth to hide it, but that made it only grow wider.

“One sec!” you called back and hoped that the excitement wasn’t so noticeable through your voice. You quickly went and made your bed, so it looked all tidy. Got rid of the dirty cotton rounds that stank up the whole room and turned off the lights before making your way over to Joe’s room.

There you saw that Joe had neatly stacked all of what was inside of his wardrobe in piles on the floor just outside the wardrobe.

Awful.

Men were messy and awful.

But men also had warm beds they wanted to share, and Joe was holding up his covers so you could go and sneak in, and so you didn’t waste any time. Snuck right in on your respective side of his bed.

And then... it was awkward.

Kind of. Maybe.

You both laid on your backs, arms above the covers, and stared up at the ceiling and... now what?

Why was this suddenly weird?

You could think of a few reasons, but they were nothing to delve into right now.

After a short moment, Joe turned his head to look at you, and so you did too. Looked at him. Saw how he looked at your shoulder. Your arms. Your chest, probably.

"Nice T-shirt."

Oh.

Yea, that was his.

“Looks good on you.”

If the goal was to make you smile, he had succeeded. With flying colours.

But then his face turned serious, and he said, “But you know, it probably would look a lot better on my bedro–”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You’d already rolled your eyes at him before he’d even finished the cheesy pick-up line and stopped him before he got to complete the punchline. It made him laugh, and you were quick to roll yourself half-way over him because how could you not kiss that pretty mouth shut?

And this was it.

This was the answer.

All hints at awkwardness vanished the moment you pressed your lips to his.

The moment Joe’s arms wrapped around you.

The moment he kept you in place with a tight grip, right on top of him.

The moment he let a hand wander to grab at your ass.

The moment he encouraged you to alleviate some pressure over one of his thighs.

When you felt how hard he was.

When you lost all control over your breathing.

Felt how Joe kept holding his, only to release it in shudders every couple of inhales.

You had never had actual sex before. No, wait, you did. What you had seen and felt and tasted of each other already did also count as actual sex. But it had all been hands, fingers, mouths. You'd never let Joe inside with more than his fingers. Twice his tongue.

Joe was just as aware.

He was happy to just make out for a while. Touch your tits. Help you ride his thigh. Have you sneak a hand into his boxers after, to make things wet and sticky inside of the cotton.

You know. Normal flatmate things.

But you kind of wanted more.

You’d never had more, and Joe’s hands were good. His fingers were nice. No complaints at all. But you wanted more.

Joe stilled when you pulled him out of his boxers. Pushed them down a little to reveal all of him.

"Are you–..." Joe whispered, and it was so soft, you could barely hear it over your own breathing.

You were already lining yourself up.

"Wait– are you sure you want– did you– ahmm..." Joe let his head fall back into his pillow and groaned when you used him to rub at yourself. To make yourself feel good a second.

Drove him fucking insane.

You liked that.

Liked how Joe so easily showed you the effect you had on him.

Liked how audible he was when you pressed him there a little harder. Moved him there a little faster. He almost sounded pained.

He started looking more and more like he did that morning when he’d come back from his run.

“Are you sure?” you teasingly asked when you moved him to where he could slip inside with just a simple thrust of his hips.

Joe made eye-contact and you laughed at the deadpan sarcastic glare you got. Of course he was sure, were you fucking joking?

Your laughter died fast as Joe did exactly what you wanted and pushed up, slipping inside.

“Shit.” You moaned.

“Yea, shit.” Joe confirmed.

And yea.

This could be a new flatmate thing.

Sure.

Riding your flatmate was fine.

So normal.

You cuddled on the sofa and had pizza together because it brought the both of you comfort.

And this brought comfort all the same, didn’t it?

Made your legs cramp a bit quicker, sure, but intimacy was intimacy and if you both liked it, then why not?

What was stopping you?

Joe came first.

Gargled, “Oh fuck!” before pulling you up to free himself, and it fucking went everywhere.

His fault, he panted, followed by a quick apology. He shouldn’t have held onto your waist to keep you in place and shouldn’t have started thrusting up into you like a fucking animal, he explained.

You didn’t mind.

Joe coming first didn’t feel like a mistake.

It was actually kind of hot that he got so into it that he couldn’t hold it back any longer. Maybe not the sperm exploding over fucking everything, but you knew Joe didn’t think this flatmate activity was done until you’d orgasmed as well. That was how it had worked up until then, anyway.

You expected him to maybe get his hands in between your legs, and you were already sort of moving into a position to make that easy work for him, but then Joe surprised you when he said, “Go get your toy.”

You froze and looked at him.

“No?” he asked when he saw your face.

“I– What? Have you snooped–... wait. Do not answer that.”

Joe had never snooped. Wasn’t a snooper. He still didn’t know where most the things in your kitchen were kept.

That meant that he’d heard it.

Mortifying.

But there was no time to feel mortified.

Joe nodded his head towards your room, casually said “Go get it, let me play.”

And, okay. Fine.

Joe was allowed to play.

Twice.

Joe got to play twice.

He pushed for a third time, but you had to put your foot down. Had to push his arms away from you pleadingly.

Too much.

Good though.

This was definitely  going to be a new flatmate thing. You’d personally see to it. Surely, Joe was on the same page.

You got a kiss to a sweaty temple and were instructed to put that toy back, go for a wee, have a sip of water, and come back to bed.

You did as you were told, body still buzzing when you got back in between his covers where you saw Joe reach for his phone and set an alarm.

Half 6.

“Are you going to get up early to feel ‘useful first thing’ again?” you joked, moving your hair to where it wouldn’t hurt when you lied down on Joe’s pillow.

Joe huffed a laugh and placed his phone on his bedside table before saying, “If I were, would you join me?”

“No.” you simply said as Joe turned around and pulled you closer. “But change it to a walk, and it’s a strong maybe from me.”

Joe cuddled up close and used his nose to push at your cheek until there was enough space there for him to burrow into your neck.

“No, you’re the worst to go on walks with,” he mumbled all close to your ear.

That tickled you, and you giggled as you acted outraged. “What?”

“You have zero spatial awareness,” said the boy who was giving you zero personal space at the moment. “You keep bumping into me every four steps, it’s so annoying.”

You laughed and tried pushing him away, but it only made him burrow deeper.

It was quiet for a second then.

Just his breathing in your ear.

Darkness surrounded you and, shit, it was so nice to have an arm over your waist. A leg pushed in between yours. You never wanted to sleep alone again.

Maybe you could just turn your room into a huge walk-in wardrobe.

Or an office.

Joe could read scripts and practice lines in there, and then this bedroom wouldn’t have clothes all over the floor like it did now.

Maybe you’d talk about it tomorrow.

You felt like you’d made a good attempt at communication today.

Baby steps, you know?

“Well,” you whispered, ready to let yourself drift off into a deep sleep. “Enjoy your run all alone by yourself, then, loser. Good night.”

You felt Joe’s stomach tense with silent laughter as he squeezed you even closer to him. You used a lone finger to trail soft lines up and down the arm that held you. It took mere seconds for you to feel how it gave him goosebumps there.

It was disgusting how you were about to fall asleep with a smile plastered onto your face.

Absolutely vile.

You fucking loved it.

“M’not going for a run,” Joe then replied on the back end of a sigh, of a sleepy satisfied hum, words slightly slurry with how close to falling asleep he already was.

This was the good stuff.

All warm.

All cosy, toasty and so stupidly comfortable.

His face in your neck and your body surrounded by all of his.

Sheer bliss.

“I’m moving tomorrow.”

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2024 / Day Eleven

THREESOME / SWIMMING / PEGGING (@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction)

Starring: Oberyn Martell x F!Reader x Duke Leto Atreides (Modern AU)

Summary: When Oberyn has guests, you normally find yourself banished to your quarters yet when Duke Leto asks for you too, it’s an offer you can’t refuse.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No use of Y/N, language, sex powder/pollen/drug taking, mentions of drink, fingering, oral - female receiving/male receiving, praising, squirting, P in V, unprotected sex (protection in real life, please, thank you), spit roasting, three-way, MMF, cream pie

Word Count: 4.7k

Notes: Ok, this is a wip that I clearly abandoned and found sitting on my computer, this was definitely started before I saw Dune and before I knew what Spice was 🙈

It wasn’t unusual for Oberyn to you to his quarters late at night, however he never invited you when he had company.

You’d met plenty of aristocrats, royalty, dignitaries and all manner of terminology you’d never heard. It was a simple introduction with the acceptance that he wasn’t yours for the length of their stay.

Never had anyone asked for you specifically.

You considered rejecting the offer of Duke Leto but there was something in the way Oberyn approached you. The glint in his big brown eyes, his lowered volume and a crooked smile that you had seen countless times, things were getting exciting.

“Remember, panties are forbidden.”

There was something in the crude way he described your underwear that got you just a bit wet.

You knocked the door.

No answer.

Oberyn always answered.

You grabbed the handle and pushed your weight to open the door, almost falling into the room. What you saw was mostly bare skin, hands seizing every inch of soft flesh, mussed brown and black hair.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry!”

You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, shoving yourself against the wood as the door slammed shut.

“You’re late.”

Spinning on your heels, you meet Oberyn’s pouted lips, plush and coated in saliva.

“We had to keep ourselves entertained somehow.”

Your inner walls clenched with the authority in his voice, it was rare but when he used it, it truly turned you on. Then you noticed how his and Leto’s eyes were blown, the glimmer that was usually white now a faint hue of blue.

Leto saw your scrunched expression.

“Come here,” he said, gesturing you over with two fingers.

You fleetingly glance to Oberyn, watching his lips curl.

Cautiously, you approach the pair of them, smoothing your palms down your dress as you squeeze yourself between them. The sweat clung to their torsos, their bulges straining beneath the fabric of their underwear.

If you hadn’t walked in when you did, they’d be fucking by now.

Leto leaned over the arm of the sofa and returned with a golden platter.

“What is it?”

“My people call it Spice.”

He dipped his fingertips into the mound of powder, crushing the particles between his thumb and forefinger.

“Completely herbal, no chemicals, all natural.”

“And will make you feel phenomenal.”

You turn to Oberyn, cupping his whiskered jawline in your palm. The smile blossomed on his face, burying the dimples deep within his cheeks.

Except you had seen how drugs affected people, from other students in your years in college to workers in the industry, snorting to keep going. Your stomach twisted with worry but also intrigue, they do always say you should try something once.

“We’ll be here with you, we’ll make sure you don’t have a bad trip.”

Leto wasn’t giddy like the other man, his chest rose slowly, his expression soft in comparison to when you met earlier. He didn’t rush you, gave you time to survey what was in front of you.

“How do I—“

“You just breathe it in.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Taking the platter in your hand, you bring the powder close and take a large inhale. A tingling sensation filled your nostrils before a warmth travelled to your lungs then, disappointingly, nothing.

“Take a couple more.”

You followed Leto’s instruction before he brought a hand back to the platter, taking it away, the gentle clank of it as it comes to the table.

The pair let you catch your breath, the heat emanating from them with their musky stench, Oberyn’s aftershave potent as he leaned in.

“Do you mind if we continue?”

“Not at all,” you haul yourself up from the sofa embarrassedly.

It didn’t take long for him to engulf his other partner, crashing his lips to his in overwhelming desperation.

You make yourself a drink in the corner, pouring golden liquid into a glass with ice and swirl. You take your place in the armchair opposite them, wondering how much time would pass until it hit you like the men you watch longingly. The warmness is still present in your chest and you question whether this is how it all starts.

Leto grabs a fistful of Oberyn’s hair, pulling his face away from his. His eyes roam to you, his expression nonplus.

“You’ll know when it hits.”

His voice was low, a notable gravel in the undertones.

You didn’t know if you believed him, how can you go from the calmness of you to the same feverishness of Oberyn?

Shifting in the chair, you allowed your body to sink deeper into the cushions, holding onto your drink loosely. You might as well make yourself comfortable before the Spice takes you over and with the glint in Leto’s eyes, he was going to make sure you had a good show.

Part of you thought about looking away, watching the television that was on in the background but you couldn’t.

You always saw Oberyn as the instigator, the dominant figure when it came to the bedroom, he was with you anyway, yet here he was different.

After your exchange, Leto used a free hand to rip himself from his underwear. His hard cock swinging from it’s release, slapping under his navel as it snapped from the elastic prison it was confined in.

Your cunt pulsed.

Oberyn swallowed, his throat bobbing as his gaze fell to Leto’s generous length. The other man didn’t allow him long in his admiration before bringing Oberyn’s lips to his tip.

He obliged to Leto’s demands, parting his mouth, gradually taking him in inch by inch. Oberyn had a skill you had let to learn, not even gagging when it was clear as day that Leto’s dick was making it’s way down his throat.

Leto groaned deep from within like a beast that had finally gotten his prey.

He took his grasp off Oberyn and let him do his work, Leto’s head falling back as the other’s moved smoothly up and down, the sloppy sounds of wet friction.

You couldn’t keep track of time in this moment. It felt like you could have been watching them for hours, no end in sight, no let up from either man.

The heat had spread through your body, through your veins in a weirdly comforting way, your eyelids heavy enough to close yet you didn’t fall asleep. You pressed your palms against your exposed skin, a tingling rising to the surface that felt good, really fucking good.

“Nice of you to join us.”

Leto’s dorsal tones snapped you from your dreamlike state.

Opening your eyes, you could see a faint glimmer and it took you a few seconds to realise it was coming from you, otherworldly in its presence. You scramble off the armchair, noticing how the stuff wouldn’t go away, if you moved, it moved. It clung to your arms and legs like some sort of parasite.

“What’s happening?”

Your voice seemed to squeak, words trapping in your throat as the panic set in.

“Breathe, my love.”

Oberyn had climbed off Leto and treaded towards you, hands open.

Except you couldn’t, your chest was heaving, tears brimming your eyes as your mind worked overtime to process what the fuck was going on. You fumble to undo your dress, pulling the fabric from your frame before letting it drop to a puddle on the floor.

Leto’s one brow arched sharply, Oberyn didn’t lie when he said you always did what you were told. You stood there, stark naked, the particles whirling from every limb, every curve as you began to shake.

“Look at me,” Oberyn said firmly.

Taking an index finger and thumb under your chin, he brings your eyes forward. You focus on him, eyebrows knotting as you can see something coming from him, a delicate steam.

His colour was noticeably different, Leto’s even more so.

“Some say it’s a projection of us,” Leto says.

You blink, “Like an aura?”

“Perhaps,” his lips briefly form a smile. “Maybe a little deeper than that, I’ve heard some say it’s like seeing into each other’s soul.”

“So indigo is?”

“Somewhere between the divine and clarity.”

“And Oberyn?”

“An expression of love.”

Oberyn shrugs, what can he say.

You brush the skin of your stomach and watch the light flutter into pieces of orange.

“Svandhisthana,” Oberyn chimes in.

Your eyebrows knot further.

“Sacral… Desire.”

Oberyn brings his hand to yours, intertwining his fingers and you can feel the heat, almost scorching to the touch. Your heartbeat steadies, your face relaxing as you look at his smile broaden in a childish nature.

Leto opens his arms, offering himself to you.

Oberyn give you a squeeze, a simple gesture to entrust yourself to him, to another lover. Your fingers lip from his hand as you saunter over to where Leto sits, nestling between his thick thighs and press a knee gently to his balls.

You both allow yourselves to admire each other in your most natural forms.

Leto is lean, soft ripples of a six pack present as you trail your fingertips over his skin, sparks of colour escaping. The muscles of his broad shoulders stretch as he rearranges himself to get a fuller view of you. His cock is still hard on his stomach, glistening in a mixture of Oberyn’s spit and his own precum.

His arm wraps around you, forcing you to his body with a gasp. You squirm just a little as a fire spreads across your breast and chest.

“Relax.”

Oberyn’s voice comes from behind you yet you can’t tell who he was referring to in this moment.

With his other hand, Leto trails down your back and over the curvature of your ass, fingers slipping between your legs. He hums with pleasure as he reaches your soft, soaking folds. Bringing his face closer, he brushes the tip of his nose against yours in a playful manner.

“You’re already nice and wet for us.”

He stifles your response with a kiss.

It was rough, heavy, his salt and pepper beard scratching delicate skin but you couldn’t fight him. His tongue prises open your lips as you willingly accept him into your mouth, tongues melding.

It’s clear that the drug in your system wants this but you’re not sure.

He locks an arm around your waist and though you push, you can’t escape. You moan, nails burying into Leto’s shoulders as you fought for air.

The sensation of another set of hands on you only fans the flames further.

“My love, relax.”

Leto parts and you gasp, trying to catch your breath.

“I feel like I’m on fucking fire.”

There were more poetic ways to explain what you were feeling but your brain wasn’t functioning. It was too preoccupied with the two men around you, the heat that radiated from them, the sweat that clung like condensation to an ice cold glass on a summer’s day. Their scent, their slick voices and fork-like tongues.

“This is what Spice does, you have to let it consume you.”

Otherwise it will hurt you, that’s what he left out.

Oberyn begins to rub the small of your back, just like he did when you initially met, when you opened yourself up to him, when he first took you to his bed.

“I don’t know how.”

Leto’s arm loosens, his frame relaxing underneath your weight.

“Maybe you do not know but I know you can, I’ve seen it many times.”

Leto’s fingertips graze your stomach, he can see it, you can feel it, the knot that has its hold. He glances over your shoulder and you sense the exchange between them.

“We’ll take it slow, we’ll get you where Leto wants you.”

The heat comes to your cheeks.

Oberyn wraps around you, his nose pressing into your back before he scoops you up from the other man. He flops onto the other half of the sofa, your body splaying over his, knees parting your thighs so you’re laid bare for his guest.

Leto shuffled, propping himself up for a better view.

Oberyn’s touch was soft, his hand rising from your hip and over your stomach, fingertips sweeping to the peak of your breast, your nipple a hard bud.

He took a finger and thumb, squeezing lightly and the spark travels down your nerve endings, settling low. Your head rolls into the crook of his neck with a sigh and you feel his jaw against your temple.

“Always so sensitive.”

You giggle.

“I love it,” he utters.

Leto watches on, cock twitching at the display. It’s torturous to watch that pussy go untouched but Oberyn was going to take his time, you’d unravel eventually.

Oberyn pinched your nipple harder, taking your whine in his mouth as he slipped in his tongue and yours danced in unison. His other hand teased at your thigh, drawing shapes with subtle fingers until he felt the tension fall. It inched nearer your pussy, gliding over the crease to meet your mound.

He held there for a few seconds before spreading his fingers down your slick outer lips.

You whimper yet your hips roll to his touch.

He stops kissing you to speak.

“I told the Duke that you were always wet for me and you didn’t let me down, did you?”

The sound of squelching seemed to fill the room and you cry as his fingers start to work you.

Leto clenched his hands into fists, his cock stiffening. He was resisting the temptation to edge, to lunge forward and take your cunt in his mouth. He had to behave himself, to control the Spice’s urges to have you.

Oberyn pins your head under his chin before pressing a finger to your clit.

He knows your every tick, stopping your legs from instinctively closing, your moan stifled in his neck. He shushes you, pressing his other palm to your stomach, flushing your back to his chest. 

Kissing your temple, he plays with you some more.

Leto has beads of sweat rolling from his hairline, the tip of his cock bright with a single drop of precum hanging.

Oberyn clocks his rigid appearance, taking his fingers away to the sound of your lose. He places the two fingers into his mouth, spreading the taste of you on his tongue before popping them out in an exaggerated fashion.

Dick, Leto thought.

You look up at Oberyn, dazed with heavy lids.

“How about we let Leto have a play, hm? As long as he plays nice.”

You nod timidly.

Leto doesn’t need anymore direction though he moves unhurried, fingertips on your leg with the lightest pressure. Oberyn returns his attention to you, locking his lips to yours. His hands glide over to your breasts, massaging your slick thoroughly into your skin.

Your thighs felt the tickle of Leto’s whiskers as he carefully analysed your muscle movement with a singular kiss. Your chest raised, your breath hitching as a new player entered the game.

He pressed another and another, each one climbing towards his final goal, you were even more messy up close. His breath teased, the peak of his nose grazing that sweet pearl that sent shivers up your spine. He flattened his tongue and licked your cunt in one smooth motion.

You broke away from Oberyn, the gasp you released throwing your head back.

Leto continues to clean you up, taking his time, listening to each noise to spill from you. Once he was done, he didn’t stop, plunging his tongue into you with ease.

You shudder.

He licks your inner walls, lapping up your juices and when you struggle, his hands pin you down.

Oberyn was kissing you wherever he could, finding the right spots to gently nip at you with his teeth, never hard enough to leave a mark.

All you could do was take them.

The room was beginning to spin, heart pounding as the colourful glimmers turned into spots of white. The fire was coming to the surface, prickling the areas where they touched, the knot in your belly tangling more.

Your legs begin to vibrate.

“Let go.”

And it’s not as if the knot snaps, instead it’s like Oberyn has one end and Leto the other. They both pull and the cluster becomes undone, smoothly and effortlessly.

Your muscles contract before going limp and you throw your head back in blissful euphoria without making a sound. The heat builds, an inferno spreading over every part of your body, your juices overflowing.

You can’t remember much of your release, it came fast and was more than enough to feed a hungry Leto. Oberyn, all the while, sung his praises quietly into your ear.

“Yes, that’s it, you’re being such a good girl for us… Look at how much you have to give him… Bet that pretty little pussy of yours is fluttering round his tongue.”

The more he spoke, the more you came.

You were numb down there but you knew he was right. Leto was lapping as you carried on gushing, your juices trickling down your butt cheeks. By the time he came up for air, his chest was taking deep inhales, whiskers gleaming with you and a crooked smile on his lips.

Slowly, your mind began to focus and you returned back to the room, Oberyn hard beneath you.

“Fuuuck.”

You can picture how he looks, his eyes dark and hooded, his lips parted.

You try to lift yourself up, your head struggling to stay up. The sofa was drenched between your thighs, joined with Leto’s creamy white cum that decorated the cushion though his cock remained hard.

You were still sensitive, your folds throbbing as you brought your legs together yet it couldn’t stop the flames from stoking again.

“Take me to bed,” you say breathily.

Leto didn’t need to be told twice.

Getting off the sofa, he grabbed you roughly on the hips and hauled you from the sofa. He threw you over his shoulder, smirking at your high-pitched yelp before bringing a sharp tap to your ass. 

Oberyn laughed at the display, chasing you both into the bedroom.

Chucking you onto the bed, you bounced on Oberyn’s incredibly soft mattress, your dewy skin gliding over silk sheets.You wriggle further up the bed, resting your elbows to admire the two men waiting to take you, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. The colours remained around them, not as strong but soft and ambient.

“How would you like to do this?”

You look to Oberyn with doe eyes.

How were you supposed to do this?

You had never partaken in a threesome, out of the two of you, he was certainly more experienced in something like this. Your mind was still swimming from the effects of Spice, all you could process was the details of the well endowed men - how they tasted, how they were lean with softened muscles, how dark their eyes were as they continued to stare.

“Maybe you ask too many questions,” Leto brought his attention to Oberyn.

“Perhaps,” he replied, “I just want to ensure she’s ready for this.”

Your excitement pools between your thighs. You try to say something but nothing comes out causing the smile to return to Oberyn’s lips.

“I do love it when you’re lost for words.”

The men meet each other’s eyes with a hooded look. You felt the temperature rise in your cheeks and chest, nails sinking into the sheets as your body prepared for what would happen next. They pounced onto the bed, Oberyn wrapping his wide hands around your ankles, yanking you towards him.

The goosebumps decorate your skin as he kneels over you.

Dropping his hands either side of your head, he brings his face millimetres from yours and your heart skips a beat.

“You remember what I said to you on the first night?”

You nod, unable to speak as he engulfed all your senses.

“If it’s too much, say and we’ll stop.”

The bed shifted as Leto knelt next to you, you could sense what was about to happen and you nod again.

“I need you to use your words for me now.”

You swallow thickly.

“Yes, your highness.”

Oberyn stared longingly at your face, your flushed cheeks, the blue glow in your eyes, that ever present smile of a completely blissed out state. You always looked at him like that, even without Spice, as if you could never quite believe that you existed alongside the Prince of Dorne, let alone underneath him in the most vulnerable way a human can be.

“That’s it, my love.”

He kissed your lips gently at first, running his tongue along your bottom lip for entry, increasing his force when your mouth opened. Just as quickly as he gave it to you, he took it away.

You pouted as he inspected you one last time before he planted his lips on your chin and down your neck, teeth nipping as he continued over your body.

Leto brought his cock close.

You craned your neck, tentatively licking the cum that had gathered. Parting your lips, you took the tip in your mouth, running your tongue around the ridge. His length twitched, a gravelly groan coming from his chest as his hand reached for the back of your head.

He let you set the pace.

Oberyn and him had already discussed your inexperience before they offered for you to join them and though Oberyn had taught you more than you’d heard of, some things took practice. You couldn’t take Leto forcing his cock down your pretty little throat, much like hoe neither could take your yet to be stretched ass hole.

Oberyn pressed his tongue over your folds, a moan escaping you, bringing more pleasure to Leto who took a fistful of your hair. Oberyn toyed with your clit before straightening up, his light touch spreading your legs wider as he positioned himself ready. He held his cock in one hand, rubbing the tip along your entrance, collecting your arousal.

Your breathing begins to pick up speed, your tongue still leisurely working Leto.

Oberyn starts to push himself in.

Leto’s cock drops from your mouth as you gasp, Oberyn stopping, playfully swatting your thigh. You look up at him wide eyed, fluttering your eyelashes as if you’d done nothing wrong.

“Keep him in your mouth.”

You do as you’re told.

Mouth salivating, you return to Leto’s length, hollowing out your cheeks as you prepare to take him except you wait for Oberyn to make the first move.

He continues, your walls stretching to fit his girth and you match his movements, swallowing Leto inch by inch. His cock was a weight on your tongue, heavy yet holding firm, and you took him until you fell the tip nudge the back of your throat. You held there for a moment before drawing back, Oberyn fucking you in tandem.

The room fulls with pleasured moans, all of you in unison.

After a while, you felt Oberyn’s hand at your ankle. He guided your knee to your chest, bringing your leg over to rest on the opposite side. This was one of his favourite positions, it allowed him to bury his nails into the plump muscle of your ass and for his cock to glide over that one spot in your walls.

You drop Leto’s cock from your mouth with a pop to have a chance to breath.

He bends over you to kiss your cheek then your lips and somewhere underneath that thick beard of his, you see a soft smile. The effects of Spice seemed to have faded for him, maybe he was used to it. 

His fingers loosen from your hair, “How are you holding up?”

Indigo flares still sparked from him as you bounced from Oberyn’s impacts.

“Good,” you laugh nervously, “I think.”

“Hm.”

He trails his fingertips down your face, the matches striking, the heat rising yet again.

You meet his palm, the metal of his ring cooler in comparison to the temperature between you. The desire consumes you until you can’t take it anymore and find your mouth enveloping his thumb, sucking for his flavour.

He pulls it out, pressing it into your plump bottom lip.

“Do you want all of me?”

Your heart skipped a beat, Oberyn sighing as your cunt pulses.

“Yes, my lord.”

Oberyn groans, shutting his eyes from the scene that was unfolding. He was already holding back, ignoring the burn at the bottom of his spine because he didn’t wish for this night to end.

Leto chuckles, his beard scratching as he whispers in your ear.

“Show him what you can do.”

You smile proudly as he straightens his back, his cock ready for you to take.

Moistening your lips, you gradually begin to swallow his length. The gag reflex starts to kick in but you fight it as his tip pushes against the back of your throat. Your whole body convulses and Oberyn can’t help looking, ensuring you’re ok.

When he opens his eyes, Leto is already helping, one hand stroking his neck and the other plucking the damp hair strands from your face.

Oberyn slowed down for you.

After another gag, Leto pulled himself out, a strand of spit hanging from his tip. The two of you exchange simple gestures before he pushes his cock back into your mouth. He takes measured movements until he’s gliding in and out with ease.

Your sigh gurgles, the tension leaving your body.

Leto turns his head, “More?”

Oberyn smirks at him, rocking his hips harder.

You cry as they move in tandem, neither of them leaving you empty. A warm builds from either end, from one end of your spine to the other and you wished you could tell them how fucking good it feels.

Both admire how well you’re handling this.

Your arousal spills over Oberyn’s cock, sticking to the hairs at the base, the suction of your tightening walls getting stronger. The saliva dribbles from your mouth, over your chin, as your jaw aches. Tears prick in the corners, eyes glossy as you choke on the speed of Leto, each of the men chasing their release.

The Spice courses through Oberyn’s veins, a creeping sensation reaching his fingers and his toes. He knew he was close, the muscles in his ass clenching as he fought to keep going, to outlast the Duke.

Though Leto was resilient, he knew he could outlast both of you especially when he’d already found his release. He could fight the drug in his system, you two, not so much and he could see how the other man was flagging.

Oberyn hissed through gritted teeth as you clenched around him uncontrollably.

Your whole body was screaming at you and you dug into the mattress to stay upright. The vibration began at your legs before you were shaking, your heart racing. Your vision of Leto was blurring.

“Cum for us.”

He groans as the reverberations travelled through his cock, your eyes going crosseyed as the orgasm took you.

Your throat contracts as he draws his hips back, his length falling out of your mouth and you gasp, your words incoherent as your forehead meets the bed. You hear Oberyn growl as he fills you to the hilt, another jerk to pump more of his seed into you.

The atmosphere settles, Oberyn’s lips pressing delicately to the skin of your waist, your hip.

Turning your head to the side, you see Leto above you, cock standing proud.

“You didn’t cum,” your throat scratched.

“I’m sure the Prince can help with that.”

The two of them exchange a look of hunger.

Oberyn pulls out, his cum seeping out of your entrance and spreading over your legs. You groan as you pick yourself up in your cock drunk state, crawling up the bed to rest your head on the plump pillows.

Glancing past your feet, they’re both already entranced by the other. Hands skim over muscles, their bodies slotting perfectly together, the increasing smile on Oberyn’s lips as Leto grabs him roughly.

They’re ready to give you another show.

Except this time, though you’d very much like to watch, your eyelids grew heavy before you found yourself in the land of slumber.

[minimomoe]

Love Bites

Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro (mafia au)

word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters

tags: Fluff, grumpy x sunshine, found family, a little angsty but nothing too bad, marriage proposal, established relationship, (last chapter only: kitchen sex, creampie, oral- fem receiving, other sexxy funtime stuff)

Chapter Two: Chimayo Chai

Much to your dismay Toji visited the shop at least once a week with the same order. He always wanted to eat two of everything and a new drink to try, a drink that you had to choose for him. Your routine was set to where you had his boxes already waiting for him by the time he came in. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Toji stops and stares down at you. You roll the ties of your apron around your fingers to try to calm yourself. 

“Why do you order so much? I mean, you come in every week, but you don’t strike me as someone who has a sweet tooth.”

Once again Toji didn’t respond right away but you were used to it by now. Toji seemed to talk more when he was annoyed, so him being quiet was actually a good sign. 

“I give them to my son and… coworkers.”

“You have a son?” you perk up. “I didn’t know you were married.”

“I’m not.”

You cringe at his response. You didn’t mean to bring up an unpleasant memory for him but you could never seem to talk to him normally. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I- Here’s your drink,” you sigh and hand him the latest fall drink on their menu, which is a Chimayo Chai. You hold the drink out and he takes it, lingering for a moment before speaking again. “He doesn’t like sweets either. My son.”

Your eyebrows knit together at his confession. “So it’s mainly just your coworkers who like sweets?”

Toji nods and finally takes the tea from over the counter. “They won’t shut up about them.”

“I love to hear that. I’ve been meaning to try more sugar and gluten free recipes. Maybe then you can enjoy them too.” You gave him a soft smile and the word “cute” flashed in Toji’s mind. He couldn’t even remember the last time he used that word willingly. “Oh, one more thing,” you say. “Next week on this day I won’t be here. The shop will be closed actually,” you mutter quietly. The words make Toji’s grip tighten around his cup and he waits for her to continue.

“It’s just for one day! I’m telling you because you always come in on Thursdays so I wanted to give you a heads up. I’ll close earlier on Wednesday but Friday will be open during normal store hours,” you smile and push your glasses up. 

“Why?”

You were hoping he wouldn’t ask that question. You really didn’t want to lie to him, but at the same time you didn’t have any idea who this man was, even if your interest in him piqued every time he walked in with his tieless suit and emotionless face. 

“I’m… visiting family,” you acquiesce. 

“For only a day?”

“Yes, that’s all I need.” 

Thankfully another customer broke their conversation with an announcement of their own. “Hey you, feeling old yet?” You smile at your tall friend who reaches over the counter to give you a tight hug. 

“My birthday’s next week, jackass. How have you been, Rina?” 

“Now I have to be more creative with my learning plans to keep the kids focused on their school work,” Rina dramatically sighs and her eyes trails over to the man she brushed past to say hello to you and her eyes widens.

“Oh Mr. Fushiguro! Funny seeing you here!”

“You know him, Rina?” This was getting ridiculous. How could an elementary teacher know a man like Toji?

“I teach his son, Megumi. He’s an absolute sweetheart. Quiet, but smart. He also loves all things related to frogs. Did I interrupt your conversation?”

“No, not at all. I’m sure Mr. Toji has other things to attend to. I’ll see you next week? Or maybe not, but soon?” 

“What drink is this again?” Toji looks down into the cup. 

“Chimayo Chai. You’re the first person I’ve made it for so far since it’s new on the menu,” you beam. “Let me know what you think when I see you again, okay?”

Toji nods and leaves without another word and Rina slowly turns to you with a smile pulling at her lips. 

“He’s single you know.”

“Rina.”

“And quite a catch. He shows up to all of Megumi’s events and the other PTA moms drool over him from a distance.” 

“Rina…”

“I wasn’t joking about Megumi. He doesn’t smile often but he is one of the kindest kids in the class. He’s like a tiny adult. I think you’d like him.”

“Stop that! I barely know the man. I just—“

“You just add new items on the menu in the middle of the season for him to be the first one to try it. No big deal,” Rina smirks and pops a piece of a muffin that she grabbed off of a rack into her mouth.

“Shut up. And I'm charging you for that.”

“Yeah yeah. Anyway, be sure to get ready for the school’s fall festival. Who knows, maybe Mr. Fushiguro will be there too.”

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter || Ko-fi

[lees-chaotic-brain]

𝙵𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳 (𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 𝙼𝙸𝚈𝙰 𝚇 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁)

summary: he overhears your friend saying something unkind

wc: 1.5k (oops this was supposed to be a drabble)

cw: mild swearing, reader has adhd, stigma against adhd

haikyuu masterlist | blog navigation

“...What makes you think I wouldn’t lose it? I have the worst case of ADHD anyone has ever seen, you seriously think I’d be able to keep track of it?”

Your lighthearted laughter as you teased your friend floated over the din of the cafe as Osamu entered it, there to pick you up. Unable to tamp down his lovesick smile at the sound of your voice, he immediately perked up when he spotted you and began heading over to where you were sitting with your friends.

You had a little bit of trouble controlling your volume, so he had been able to hear what you were saying earlier, but since then you had gone weirdly quiet. But as he made his way over to you, he became close enough to catch the tail end of what your friend said in response.

“...I mean come on. You can’t just blame everything on your ADHD. Like, when are you going to actually take responsibility for your problems instead of using it as an excuse as if half the population doesn’t have it?”

He didn’t have to see your face to know what your expression looked like. Just like every other time someone said something shitty like that to you, he knew that the hurt would only show on your face for a moment before morphing into a sarcastic and uncaring mask.

“I’m sorry, what?” Your voice had lost its boisterous joy from moments ago, and that alone made him want to storm over there and tear that girl a new one. Unfortunately he was well aware of the fact that you preferred to fight your own battles, and loathed feeling like you needed some man to come in and defend your feelings.

“I’m just saying.” Your friend rolled her eyes. “You’re so put together, and one of the most intelligent people I know. When are you going to stop using your ADHD as an excuse for your terrible work ethic?”

While the first part of what she said sounded deceptively nice, the hidden connotations in the barbed sentence did not go over his head, so it most certainly did not go over yours. Remembering all of the nights he spent holding you as you cried because someone had called you lazy, or told you that you could do it if you just tried, he made a mental note to himself to remind you of how amazing you are every day. As if he didn’t already.

“Wow.” Your voice had taken on a mocking, almost cruel tone. While most people overhearing would think you’re just being really nasty, he knew better. This was how you protected yourself. You pretended you didn’t care and mocked the person for their ignorance, then went home and asked him to hold you until your heart stopped hurting and the voices in your head stopped talking.

You took a slow, leisurely sip of your drink, before slamming the cup back onto the table with more force than necessary. “For someone who claims to have undiagnosed ADHD, you sure don’t know anything about it. Just so you don’t embarrass yourself in the future by spewing more bullshit like this, let me give you a few pieces of information.”

Leaning back in your chair, you began ticking off items on your fingers as you spoke. 

“One. Telling someone with ADHD to “just focus” is like telling a person with glasses to just see better. We want to, but we can’t.” You level a pointed look at her glasses and Osamu notes with satisfaction that her face is beginning to get flushed with embarrassment. You continue.

“Two. A lot of people with ADHD are actually insanely smart. They have to be. People in classes like ours who have ADHD and struggle with paying attention and staying on task need to be intellectually gifted to survive in school. It’s the only way they can keep up. Which brings us to point three.”

The overly sweet smile you give your so-called “friend” tells him that you’re about to say something you’ll regret later, but he can’t bring himself to stop you because anyone who hurt your feelings deserved what was coming for them. If that made him a bad boyfriend then he didn’t really care. He would just comfort you later and tell you that you aren’t a bad person for putting a judgemental asshole in their place.

“Point three: don’t go around telling people that you have undiagnosed ADHD. Like I said before, people with ADHD typically need to be smarter than the others in their class to keep up, especially in an engineering major. Which is exactly why no one is going to believe you. Frankly, you’re just not smart enough. You’re barely hanging on as it is. If you really did have ADHD you would have flunked out by now.”

Checking the time on your phone you gathered your stuff and stood up. “Sorry. My boyfriend is probably here by now. Although, something came up. I think you’ll need to find your own ride back. Sorry.”

Surveying the area where you had sat, you double checked to make sure you had everything, pausing and looking back over your shoulder just as you were about to leave.

“Oh, and by the way.” You shoot her a saccharine smile. “I really appreciate you thinking that I’m really put together. Unlike my intelligence, that’s all an act, so I’m really flattered that you thought that about me. It means a lot.”

With that, you turned and came face to face with your boyfriend's chest, nearly falling on your ass. One of his arms wound around your waist, pulling you against him and keeping you upright while the other snagged your bag and threw it over his shoulder.

“Samu?!” You look up at him in surprise and he just smirks and guides you out of the restaurant. Once you’re in the privacy of his car, you speak again. “...How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to hear the bullshit she spewed.” You look down, pretending to pick at your nails, but he knows you’re just trying to hide the tears welling in her eyes. 

“I really thought she was my friend.” Your voice is quiet and watery, completely different from the one you used with your friend just seconds ago in the cafe. “Maybe she’s right. I was probably too mean to her. I apologize to her-”

He was going to let you apologize, knowing that nothing he said would take away the guilt clawing at your insides, but then he saw the contact name.

“Her??” He pointed incredulously at the contact name. “The girl in there was her?? The one who was super mean to ya last year? I thought ya said ya weren’t friends with her anymore!”

Flushing, you tilt your phone away from him. “Well, I didn’t want you to worry. She got nicer, I swear.”

His eyes narrow. “Uh-huh. And what she said to ya back there definitely reflects just how much she’s changed.”

With a quick stretch of his arm, he snatched your phone out of your hand and slid it into his pocket, fending you off with one arm as he started the car and pulled out, causing you to cease your physical attempts at reclaiming your phone.

“Osamu Miya!! You give that back!! It’s not up to you who I’m friends with, and whether or not I apologize!”

“I know that.” He mumbles, keeping his eyes on the road. “I just don’t like seeing ya sad. And yer always sad when yer friends with assholes like her.”

“Oh, Samu…” Your voice softens and you take his free hand in your own. “I’ll be okay. Really. Honestly she’s probably trying to help me. She just wants me to fix what’s going on-”

“That’s exactly what I mean!” His knuckles turn white with how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel, but his grasp of your hand is nothing but gentle. “There’s nothing wrong with ya! She says shit like that and you believe her! Yer perfect the way you are, and I hate that you spend time with people who make you feel less than that! I don’t care who yer friends with. I just want them to treat you well. The way ya deserve.”

You deflate, your grip on his hand tightening and he sees you wiping your eyes out of his peripheral. “I know. I know you're right. Can we just...talk about this later? I just want to be sad right now."

'"Of course we can babe. We don't have to talk about it at all if you don't want to. I'm just not letting you apologize to her because she doesn't deserve it."

You laugh, and the sound does things to his heart. "I love you so much Samu. You know that, right?”

He squeezes your hand tightly, knowing that no matter what, the two of you would be okay because you had each other. “I know. And I love ya a million times more than that.”

taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight

[rafedaddy01]

Part 1

A/n: lmk if I should do a part 3 in Rafes pov, I might end up turning this into a mini series!

Who would have thought that Rafe Cameron would show interest in you.

Nobody. And nobody will ever know what conspired between the two of you.

After that night at the party Rafe touched you, he didn’t finger you, he didn’t have too. A few strokes on your clit and you were done for. It was embarrassing, but Rafes smirk was telling you all you had to know. He was satisfied.

It’s been a week since that party and Rafe hasn’t contacted you once. You were beginning to think that he just used you like he does all girls, I mean it wouldn’t surprise you. He’s Rafe Cameron, the islands biggest fuck boy

It was a Monday morning and you had woken up for school a little earlier, like you have been for the past week, ever since Rafe showed the slightest bit of interest in you you’ve cared about how you look.

Curling your hair more and applying a decent amount of makeup, and not dressing like the schools librarian.

You got to school and as you rounded the corner you ran into a toned chest “watch where your-“ his eyes met yours and a smirk curled his lips

“I-I’m so so-sorry, I didn’t m-mean” you babbled as Rafe knelt down and gathered you books.

“It’s okay kitten, I hadn’t realized it was you” he purred as he handed you your things

You blushed as you pressed the books to your chest, suddenly feeling shy about what you were wearing.

Rafe eyed your body like a starved man, he stopped on the tight black fabric you called a shirt that was squeezing your breasts together and exposing the perfect amount of cleavage.

“Oh kitten” Rafe groaned “your killing me”

“I-i am?” You questioned, holding back a smile.

Rafe nodded as he swung his arm and you and the two of you started walking.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear “I’ve been thinking about you all week, wondered when I’d run into you so I can finish what I started”

You gulped as your panties began to flood.

“What did you need to finish?” Your voice coming out in a much higher pitch than intended

He chuckled as he spun you around in the almost cleared out hallway and pushed your body against the locker.

“How about you come to my party this Friday and I’ll show you” he licked the skin on your neck, actually licked you like you were some sweet lollipop

“I-oh okay” you mumbled as you subconsciously cranked you neck to give him more room

“So submissive, so needy, so- perfect” Rafe muttered as his hands gripped your hips and grinded his erection against your core and his lips danced on your neck

Your mind was hazy and you were about to beg him for something, anything! Until he suddenly pulled away

“Give me your phone” he said placing one hand on the locker beside your head and the other outstretched for your phone

You blinked at him but obliged, handing him your phone

“There, now you have my number and you can text me whenever your feeling needy” he said placing your phone back in your palm and smiling, that same genuine smile he had given you the night of the party. Maybe Rafe Cameron wasn’t such a heartless motherfucker like everyone said, maybe he actually cared about your feeling? No way! This is Rafe Cameron, he takes what he wants and nobody asks questions.

*fast forward to the party, this will be in first person

Today was the day, I was finally gonna lose my virginity, and to rafe Cameron no less

Ahhhh, I couldn’t contain my excitement.

It’s Friday and I’m walking into Rafes house, he gave me his number on Monday when he cornered me against the locker and practically fucked me with our clothes on and we’ve talked through out the week he can actually be sweet when he wants too

“Hey kitten” his voice husky and a bit slurred as he snakes and arm around my waist and holds a red solo cup to my lips “drink” he instructs and of course I obey

“Good girl” my knees almost collapse at the term, who knew I had a praise kink!? Well not me, I’m a virgin remember?

“How about we start this party” Rafe said nuzzling my neck and biting my ear lobe, a soft moan exiting my lips

“I’ll take that as a yes”

*

As soon as we entered the room, his room i take it, he slams my body against the wall.

“You’re so fucking sexy, kitten” he says before taking my lips and tongue fucking me. It’s so harsh and abrupt that I’m caught of guard, but I don’t mind it.

This is only my 2nd time kissing Rafe and it makes me nervous to think I’m not doing it right but he like to take control and so I let him, his big sexy arms trail over my thighs and lift them up so I’m wrapped around his body, my dress bunched up.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, okay kitten?” He says leaving wet kisses down my neck “please!” I beg as I grind subconsciously against his crotch.

“God! I love it when you beg. I can’t wait to feel your tight hole around my cock”

His dirty words make me blush, but they also make me leak like a faucet.

Rafe brings his fingers down between my thighs and touches the damp spot on my panties “holy shit your soaked” he groans as he moves the fabric to the side. “Fuck” I groan out as he slides his fingers through my folds “this time I will finger you and make you cum so your ready for my cock” he says just as he jams one finger up me

“Fuck your tight” he says.

I moan and groan as he adds a second and I come so hard I forget about the fact that we’re still against the wall and anybody walking by could hear me.

“Keep your legs around me and hold onto my neck, kitten” Rafe instructs as he reaches for his belt and undoes his jeans. He pulls his cock out and I almost gasp at the size of it, how is that going to fit?

“Don’t worry, it will”

Shit I must of said that last part out loud. My cheeks blush as Rafe stares at me. He leans down for a kiss and it’s so passionate and affectionate that I almost forget he’s about to impale me on that thing.

He brings the tip to my clit and circles it before slowly pushing through my walls.

It stings and I feel like crying but it also feeling fucking fantastic.

I moan into his mouth, which he greedingly swallows.

He pulls his lips away and rests his forehead on mine.

“Shit your so fucking tight” he grits out as he slowly pushes in more

“Rafe!” I moan as I feel the familiar feeling of an orgasm

Rafe slowly starts moving in and out and groaning as I clamp him down

“Shit!” I scream as my orgasm hits me harder than before.

Rafe pumps a few times and pulls out as his cum shoots all over my exposed cunt

“Fuck, y/n… please tell me your expecting your period or something..” he says looking down that his dick

“Uh, no why?” I speak up as I try to regain my ability to stand.

“Are- were you a virgin?” Rafe asks

Then I look down and see it. His cock is covered in blood

Fuck

“I-i thought you knew” I say as I pull my panties up and fix my dress.

“Fuck!” She shouts as he rushed to the bathroom and I hear the water running

I can’t hold back the tears, what did I do? Does he not like me now? Is he disgusted. Shit.. I knew this was stupid, I’m so embarrassed!

He comes back all dressed and carrying a washcloth. He stands in front of me and kneels as he wipes my thighs and strokes them before standing and placing his hands flat on the wall beside my head

“Why didn’t you tell me” he said looking into my eyes

“I-i thought you knew” I said trying not to cry, I’m so pathetic

He stroked my hair before cupping my face in his hands

“Kitten… if-“ he sighs as he stares into my eyes, there’s something he wants to say but he’s holding back, I can see it

“If I had know I would have been more gentle. I would have done it right, fuck! I can’t believe I took your virginity against the wall” he said letting go of my face

“Rafe it’s okay, i- I liked it” I say feeling a bit better about the fact that he doesn’t find me repulsive

He smiles softly but I can tell he’s uncomfortable

“I should go” I say

“Wait, let me take you home” he says stroking my cheek with his thumb

I nod and he leans in to place a kiss to my lips

“Is it bad that I want to fuck you again?” He said as his nose nudges against mine

I bit my lip and stare into his blue orbs “not in the slightest” I say

*

Rafe drops me off and the ride over was a bit awkward but he made small talk and made me comfortable

As he comes to a stop in front of my house he leans in a kisses me

I’m caught off guard at first but I give in

He pulls away and rests his forehead on mine and we sit like that for a few minutes before he speaks

“I’m sorry I took something so precious from you, kitten”

“Don’t be, I loved it”

He smiles and presses one kiss to my lips and pulls back

“I’ll call you, yeah?” He says

I nod and smile at him as I exit his car and he waits for me to enter my house before driving off.

Rafe called me as soon as he got home and we spent most of the night talking about the most random things, it was… nice

Part 3

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism

[effieotto]

What’s your headcanon about Haymitch and Effie after the rebellion?

Post-Canon Hayffie is just my favorite subjected of all time, so here we go with my favorite headcanons for my favorite silly ones

-Effie started using drugs after the war (real strong drugs, like cocaine and stuff) as a way to cope with her strong suicidal thoughts, and that’s how Haymitch found her two years after he left to Twelve with Katniss, because Plutarch called him for help

-As a consequence of her torture, Effie had injuries that caused permanent damage in her left shoulder, messing with her motor coordination, which made her unable to style her hair by herself. So Haymitch asked Katniss to teach him how to braid her, so he could make her complicated hairdos for her instead

-Effie and Katniss relationship was really hard at the begging, because Effie wasn’t in a great stage of mind to keep her bubbly old self, so between her PTSD, nightmares and withdrawals, combined with Katniss’s grief and severe depression, they were extremely hostile with each other (it is actually a very complex analysis of their relationship, so i’ll let the explanation to another post). So Haymitch and Peeta had to meddle the situation together to not let it get out of control, like they screaming at each others face, blaming them for their own miserable stages

-Haymitch was a huge gossipy man, although he strongly denied that. Therefore, every night, when Effie get home from downtown, they would set in front of the fire with two cups of tea and share every detail about the dirtiest scandal they could find

-Peeta and Effie got together to cultivate a community garden for the few people living on Twelve, where they planted fruits, vegetables and medicinal herbs, not only to help the District to get back to their feet but also to distract their minds

-Every time Haymitch had a bad nightmare, Effie would set his head down on her lap, pet his hair and sing the song his mother used to sing to him when he was a kid (the one she learnt from Grease Sae because she asked her help to learn more about Twelve’s culture, cause she wanted to do it right)

-When she had progressed on her condition, Effie was getting crazy staying at home doing nothing, so she decided to start teaching the young ladies from Twelve all the things she had learned from home (like music, etiquette, sewing, communication etc) -latter she joined an small school to continue her journey-

-Their relationship never changed from what it was before ~They continued with the teasing and fighting like they were still who they were back then, mostly. However, with all the baggage they both now had, they needed to adapt to a new routine. So there was bad days when Haymitch would drink himself to oblivious remembering his dead friends, and Effie would stay completely catatonic over a particular bad flashback. When it happened, the other would give them enough space while doing small things to try and get the other back from their depression

-Effie was obsessed with local festivals and she would drag Haymitch with her every month when Twelve made a big carnival, so they could eat, dance and help Peeta with his pastries stands. At first people who were living in Twelve wasn’t very friendly with her during it, but when she started going earlier to help them build the stands and make their schedules more consistent with all her escort knowledge, they warmed up a little bit -although most of the friends she made came from different Districts, mostly nine, eleven and six. The Twelve original citizens (apart from Grease Sae) never really got to friendly terms with her, for obvious reasons

again, i have many more, but since it was already a lot, maybe i’ll do another one later (if you want)

[velvet-paradox]

Intense

Fandom: Sleep Token (Band) Pairing: Vessel x Female reader x III Length: Long Summary: Your eepy roommates suggest they can help you out. Warnings: NSFW 18 + ONLY, LISTEN UP PUNK I know what I'm about ok and I shouldn't even have to to explain this but for ffs this is for funsies, fictional purposes only. I don't know these British men and I don't claim to! But am I having an absolute ball listening to them everyday day since I heard Dark Signs??? Absolutely. I have not and will not know peace on Earth ever again so with that being said... my lizard brain wants to shoot my shot and get sandwiched between Vessel and III (purely based off their on stage personas) and I'm pretty sure all us worshippers would enjoy kneeling and begging for forgiveness for all the eepy guys. DON'T LIE TO ME; I'll know. ;) One late night thot lead us down this path so here ya' go, we've got: strong language, explicit content, MFM relations, polyamorous activities, kissing, oral (m receiving), p in v, protected sex, unprotected sex (don't do it!), double vaginal, dirty talking, creampie III is a mess, Vessel is along for the ride and you're indulging in the spoils of detailed smut. Tagging: @synnersaint my ride or die

ENJOY!!!

You stare at the red numbers on the clock next to your bed. You blink.

Unfortunately unfazed by the hum-drum pace and the position you've found yourself in.

Ugh, how did this happen again?

The man on top of you, circling his hips against your own, balls deep in your cunt should be fun, exciting, a turn-on at least but you just laid there, once again, taking it but not getting anything out of it. You faked it the last three times just to get him to get off you, out of your apartment and out the door so you could finish yourself off with some post nut clarity. Which is what you should've done in the first place.

The first time you had sex with him, you chalked it up to nerves. It'd been a few months for him and a bit longer for you at this point. The second time you excused it as you did go out for drinks earlier in the night and the last one was just plain awful. No foreplay, bit your neck too hard and pretty much gave you a titty-twister which was not fun; at all.

But he's nice! And funny, easy to talk to you and here you are, making more excuses for a man who can't even get you off. This is just pathetic, girl.

You felt bad faking your enthusiasm but even as you moved in unison with him, hearing him huff and grate out oh my fucking god for the fifth time, he didn't even have a clue.

So you dialed it up, two more minutes had passed with him just thrusting inside you, he didn't even notice you weren't as wet as before. What a fucking disaster.

You sighed and made your O face, biting your lip and holding his waist, the slapping of skin sped up briefly before he pulled out with a groan of your name, panting as he jerked himself, tore off the condom and came on the inside of your thigh.

Fucking finally.

Your date was quick to get dressed, mentioning something about an early shift change. He gave you chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, cupping your face as an afterthought as you followed him out of your bedroom.

"I'll text you when I get home. I-- oh!"

You bounced against his back, stunned as to why he's just stopped like that when you peer around his frame. There on the couch in your living room sat your roommates.

"Oh my-- what are you guys doing home?" You asked, frantically looking between the two sober faces and their luggage by the front door. Well more like the painted chin of one and the eyes of the other. You were hyperaware of the drying cum on your leg and crossed your fingers and toes they didn't hear your activities or what remained to be seen.

"We live here, remember?" Vessel waved one of his hands, III nodding along.

"When you said you had roommates I just assumed they were other girls." Your bedfellow side talked to you as to not alert your boys.

"Is that a problem?" You asked.

"No I just uh," he looked at III when he stood, an attempt to intimidate. "It's fine um... I'll call you."

"Well that was rude," Vessel announced, joining his brother after he left. "Didn't even introduce himself."

"He won't be around for long. I wouldn't worry about it." You dryly chuckled before embracing both of them. Vessel cupped the back of your head, pressing his chin into your hair before letting III swoop you up in his gangly arms and gave you two solid spins. "Put me down! You reek."

"Ah, the mask has seen better days I'm afraid. Can't wait to get a hot shower and something in my belly. Road livin' ain't what its' cracked up to be, ya' know?" III admitted.

"Um, let me get changed and I'll make you guys some food," you jogged out of the living room, calling over your shoulder. "Lord knows what you boys eat on the road!" ....

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," You paused the movie and turned to face Vessel on the chaise lounge part of the couch, long limbs sprawled out, ankles crossed and rocking. "What's up?"

Vessel twisted his painted mouth before asking an out of pocket question. "Why do you torture yourself?"

Taken aback you wondered what he meant and crossed your legs. "What? What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean." When you showed your genuine confusion, he sat up. "Your little boy toy. Not that III and I have been cheeky little perverts and eavesdropping on your late night escapades but... we can't help but be concerned. Either you're a silent climaxer, some people are and that's totally fine and we're bold to assume or your partner isn't doing it right."

"Excuse me?"

"We've only been home a few weeks and we've heard him far more than we've heard you," Vessel explained, ignoring your anxious fidgeting and cuticle picking. "What we have heard though, is a lot of buzzing after your friend leaves."

Oh. My. God.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, desperate to get out of, out of your body and on the run. Blood pounds in your ears at the audacity of this whole conversation. Your roommates have heard you getting off, know you have toys, know your friends with benefits is lacking the benefits part and that you'd not been taken care of. You wished it was still cooler out and you could grab the usual throw off the back of the couch and hide away underneath.

"What are you guys talkin' about?" III popped in, holding a glass of chocolate milk, an absurdly long and coiled straw was hidden beneath his mask as he sucked dramatically.

Vessel smirked. "Oh just Y/N and how her new beau can't get her off."

"Oh finally! I've been dying for this conversation," III exclaimed and excited plopped down next to Vessel, scooching closer and leaning forward as he drank some more. "So what gives? Give us the goods."

"I don't... he knows what he's doing, it's just--"

"It's just he's bad at it." III giggled.

"I can get off, okay?"

"Yeah, we know that. Just not with him."

"I... fine. It might not even be him you know," you tried. "Maybe it's me. Maybe I can't get out fast enough."

Vessel quirked his mouth. "Get out of what exactly?"

"My own head. I think too much, you know that. I need to feel everything in order to shut my brain off and not worry about how many loads of laundry I need to do, when I need to switch out my sheets, did I pick up my towel in the bathroom? What should I have for lunch tomorrow."

The boys looked between themselves, shrugging and looking bewildered. "You... you think about all that stuff all while having sex?" III snorted and shook his head. "You're a madwoman, you know that?"

"I'm trying not to think of those things!"

"That's what I was afraid of," Vessel took III's now finished drink away from him and set it down. "If you want, we could help you out. Save you the trouble and the energy and uh, some battery power."

You chuckled. "You're joking. You two are gonna' help me out."

"Just say the word and we belong to you," Vessel crooned, licking his top lip. The pink of his tongue was such a juxtaposition to he obsidian black that covered his face, his arms and hands, his body. "This could be a one time deal, if it's not up to your standards, we don't have to mention it ever again or... it could be a three times a week sort of thing."

"Three times a week?!" You screeched.

"That's up to you."

....

"So uh have you guys like... done this before?" Your voice doesn't even sound like your own, shaky, breathy, uneven and higher pitched. You pointed between the duo and yourself. You hadn't but your incognito search history might say you've looked at it a few times.

They admitted their deep rooted feelings about you. Your stomach flipped for Vessel's breathy pet name of Duchess, your toes curled for III's Sweetness. 

With the way they looked at you, you couldn't even remember his name at this point.

Vessel shrugged. "Just with you."

"Just me?" You balked, you knew the guys were close, sometimes skin tight so to find out they'd not acted out was stunning and a major green light. "Oh um, I'm flattered. iI think."

"You should be. III isn't much of a talker, speaks his mind when need be."

"Unless its' dirty." III piped up with a shrug of his own, with the way his eyes wrinkled you could tell he was all smiles under that mask.

"A little tact there, brother!" Vessel scolded him, giving a backhand to his arm. "Don't scare her off."

"What? She should know. You should know. I am dripping with sin."

"III!"

"What? We're all adults here, right? An' we're talking about fucking each other so who cares?! And she might even like it. Do you like dirty talk, sweetness?" III asked with a tilt of his head.

"Uh I um... I. Well..."

"Do you," III stood and got closer, much closer, swaying his way to close the gap between you. He stood with his legs on the outside of your own. He tilted his head the opposite way and kept his eyes trained your face, the heat from the eye contact made you hot. His painted thumb touched your chin. "Like that?"

You'd never felt this kind of intimacy, this heightened level of attraction and arousal and it made you nervously laugh at the thought that it was radiating off your friends like a fucking forest fire.

You swallowed. "Yes."

"Aha! Knew it. Those pretty eyes and that fucking mouth are hiding plenty of secrets, yeah?" III pointed, that thumb of his traced along your jaw before pushing gently on the underside, making you look all the way up at him.

If they wanted to play, you thought, I guess... let's play.

"Maybe."

"Oh! Now we're getting somewhere," III chuckled and looked over at Vessel before touching your shoulder, moving the strap of your sleep shirt back and forth. His hands were hot, scorching your skin as he touched the light fabric. "Should I undress you or should you undress me? Or maybe Vessel wants to unwrap us both. What do you think?"

"I think--" your throat constricted before keeping his ardent eye contact. "I think I want to undress you first."

III liked that idea, he wiggled his shoulders and raised his arms. "I'm all yours, mama."

....

His hoodie is the first thing to go, floating down to the floor. A black compression shirt separates flesh and bone, it comes off easily over his head. He's only half painted there. You can see streaks of his skin, soft and smooth, hidden from view. His stomach tightens when you trail your hand down his chest, foreign to your hands.

"I think about you, ya' know? Not to be pervy or bold but... you are the prettiest thing we've ever seen."

His compliments make you warm, you clench around nothing.

He suddenly grabs your hand and moves it higher. "Feel that. You make my heart fuckin' pound like crazy. The first time I saw you in that green sundress, you know, the one with the little daises on it... fuck me," III admitted and dramatically bit his fist. "I've never been so hard in my life!"

You know the dress in question. It's hanging in the front of your closet. Guess it'll be making a debut and turn III on once again. 

"Oh yeah? Well maybe next time I wear it... I won't wear anything underneath."

III made the deepest of groans, moving your hand down his ribs while he undid his belt. "Fuckin' hell, don't tease me woman."

"You don't like that?"

"I like it too much! That's the problem."

His zipper was so fucking loud, it cut through the room like a hot knife. Smooth and seamless, even Vessel had to clear his throat. You looked over at him on the chaise, legs wide spread, lithe arms outstreatched over the back cushions. With three separate eye holes in his mask, it was hard to tell where he was looking but in this moment you felt them boring straight into your own.

"Keep going," he hummed and visibly bit his lip. " 'm enjoying the show."

With III was just in his boxers, it was your turn. Your disrobing would be a lot quicker as you were in a light pajama set and crew socks. You mmiiced III and raised your arms above your head, his nimble fingers danced over your sides, dragging the material up and over your head. He tossed to Vessel, who out of your peripheral, had inhaled your scent on it. He did the same with your shorts. The rush of cool fan air make your skin prickle, your clit throbbed when you fully noticed the outline of III's cock. Jesus. 

III got on his knees and lifted one your feet, gripping your ankle.

"No. Keep them on." Vessel spoke, pushing himself up off the couch and sauntered over to you, fully nude and on display. He embraced your face, pressing his forehead to yours before slinking behind III when he stood.

Vessel's painted arms looped around III's, locking them behind his back. III made a noise.

"Take him out," Vessel instructed with a low gasp. "Take him out and see what you do to him. Same as what you do to me. Hell, all of us, duchess."

ALL OF US?!

Before you got on your own knees, you touched III's hips, hooking your thumbs just beneath the fabric and dragged them down. His cock made the softest and prettiest thud against his lower belly. Your eyes bounced from their faces, down to his leaking cock and back again.

"He wasn't lying," Vessel chuckled, his chin now draped over III's shoulder. You met his eyes. "You make him rock fuckin' hard, love. Want her to take all o' that? Nah... you need her to take care of that, don't you?"

"Fuck yes." III whined. "Please."

"How are you gonna' help our good boy, love?"

III shook before your even touched him, you on your knees before him was enough to have him looking frantic. Completely at your and Vessel's mercy, you took him in your hand first, getting familiar with his length before dipping your head in worship, opening your mouth. You hesitated for the briefest of moments before angling him deeper and further into your mouth.

It was a good thing Vessel was holding him up because you felt and saw III's knees wobble once you got your stride, gliding your hands up and around his thighs, arching closer with your fingers reaching his ribcage. Your palms against his skin felt every twitch, every jolts, every fucking sigh. The noise that strangled out from his throat when you dragged your nails down his stomach had you clenching around absolutely nothing.

"That's it, you're doing such a good job, love bug. Atta' girl, get 'em off real good, yeah?"

"Yeah yeah, fuck yeah," III whined and bucked his hips, "Your mouth feels so fucking good. Suckin' me off real sweet, mama. Give it to me."

"She's good with that mouth, hmmm?"

"Oh fuck V...wait 'til she oh shit, right there-- wait 'til she's gaggin' on you. O-oh my God."

When III took the Lord's name in vain it sounded so sweet in comparison to your other lover. You could feel yourself getting wetter, more powerful than you ever had with him. You took their words of praise, locked them in a little safe in the back of your mind for safe keeping.

"You're lucky I don't shove your ass out of the way then." Vessel teased and III mewled with delight.

....

III made grabby hands at you, wiggling his fingers as he laid out on the chaise part of the couch. He wiggled, tapped and pointed towards his mouth too.

When you climbed on top of him, his arms engulfed you, bringing you chest to chest. You kissed his face over his mask, startled when he suddenly pulled the chin part of it up to his nose and kissed you for real. You whined and kissed him back harder and faster, tasting his mouth, licking inside of it. He smacked and grabbed your ass, groaning against your lips.

"You two are fuckin divine," Vessel breathed, shouldering off his robe finally, unzipping his own jeans. "Fuckin’ hell, what a sight."

You turned your head to his silky voice, watching him stroke himself.

You were in big fucking trouble.

III nipped your arm. "Want you. I want you so fucking badly. Think it'll fit? Think you can take it?"

You took a breath and held his cock, hot and ready against your pussy. Rocking against the crown, splitting your lips to ready you for him. You licked your lips and lowered down on it, your mouth instantly opening. "Fuck yes."

"Good God!" 

"Shit... a little more, love and you'll take him all the way in. That's it." Vessel cooed and pet your head, then your face. "Kiss him again."

With his heavy hand on your head you kissed III tongue first, the sounds of you two kissing had Vessel praising both of you, leaving him breathless.

III grabbed your hips, rolling and fucking up into you, breathing you in.

You and III stilled at the sudden dip of the couch.

Vessel's hand on your shoulder, his other ghosted and trailed over III's mask and vulnerable chin and mouth behind you. He lost it at that, whimpering against your cheek, a new flood of arousal coating your walls.

"Just relax pretty girl. We've got you, we got you."

"What are you--"

Vessel's thick fingers reached around your front, pressing and swirling down around your clit. "We're both gonna' fit. Just remember to breathe for us, ok?"

Holy shit. This was intense.

III's arm surged up and over your shoulder to touch Vessel, ghosting over his naked hip, gripping his bare skin.

"I've got you both. Trust me."

It was your idea to lift up, empty of III only to arch and take a deep push of Vessel. You frowned and touched III's face when Vessel pulled completely out. You both gasped when he spat. III squirmed and whined, the sudden intrusion of Vessel lining them both up against your hole, wedging their cocks inside you.

It didn't necessarily hurt, more pressure than anything and for fucks sake, you'd never felt so full in your life. 

"Fuck V! Give us a warning, holy fuck." III breathed when the frontman started to rock and move. After a few minutes of fucked out bliss, it seemed like Vessel was fucking III through your body.

He smeared his face along your spine, your shoulder, leaving wet open mouthed kisses along your neck and ear.

"Good fucking God duchess, you are absolutely soaked for us, aren't you? Can feel you really start to open up for us now, yeah? Fuck you're amazing. Isn't she?"

"Ye-yeah yeah. Positively sweet," III's eyes sparkled in an amorous way. You kissed him hard. "Can't wait to have a taste of you, sweetness."

The thought of him working his mouth on you made you keen and fuck down on them.

Limbs twisted and tangled, Vessel nipped a small, incredibly sensitive spot behind your ear before licking the shell of it. Humming and praising you with that gravely timber. He was touching you, holding onto one of your tits for stability and III did the same, using just the pad of his thumb to pebble your other nipple.

You would never recover, that much you were sure of. They were out for pain and pleasure.

On a particularly hard thrust from III your moan slipped into sex drunk chuckle. "I think she likes it."

"I'm in fuckin' heaven." You breathed, reaching back to touch Vessel's thigh, digging your nailbeds in deep.

"That's it, you fuckin' naughty thing." His hand left your breast and found a new home around your throat, turning your head to face him and receive a sloppy kiss. III moaned at that.

"You two are fuckin-- ah shit. I'm close, fuck. Give it, give it to me."

Vessel's laugh against your lips made your walls constrict.

"Just like that!" III practically yelled, digging his fingers into your thighs, alternating to your hips, changing the tortuous pace. "Fuck, 'm gonna' bust, sweetness. Fuckin' cum inside you all nice and deep. Make it stick."

"Fuck me." You hung your head and rode it out, nothing but pure pleasure and bliss was shared between the three of you. And it was worth it. "Oh you guys... aha! I'm gonna' cum."

You couldn't remember the last time you came that hard with a partner and never with two! They both rubbed their hands and mouths over your skin, groping over your sandwiched body. Vessel's chest stuck to your back like glue, III grabbed and pushed both of your breasts together as he came shortly after with a grunt of your name, stringing along a beautiful array of obscenities. 

"I've got you, I've got you both in my clutches now." Vessel's voice sounded like silk on glass next to your ear as he continued to thrust, spearing III's load all over your gummy walls. III reached out a lazy hand and Vessel took it, lacing their fingers together over your shoulder. 

Skin on skin on skin.

III leaned up for another smooch with you greedily enjoyed, smacking your spit and lips together until all you could feel and hear was Vessel shudder behind you.

....

Vessel couldn't stop smiling as you giggled, helped to your bedroom, wedged between them on your bed as they cleaned you up. You would certainly need to clean up that side of the couch later. III was careful of your more tender bits, being stretched out and filled, removing black grease paint of where they were.

He drummed his fingers over your arms when he was finished, molding his body to yours. His head against the side of your neck. III soon joined in the snuggle, jumping into bed and under the covers with you. He gave you another kiss before pulling his mask back down, and pet Vessel's head.

Your phone buzzed when your boys had fallen asleep, you had a feeling of who it might be and if this is how the future looked; there was no way you were gonna' give this up.

[clxja16]

Does He Know?

part two

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: forbidden relationship

Warnings: smut, swearing, angst

Word Count: 3.7K+

Author's Note: THERE ISN'T GONNA BE A PART THREE. I have to make that clear because you guys can seriously talk me into anything and it's not good man. You guys win, I wrote the part two, idk if this is any good though, I feel like it's very vague. idk about a part three, like honestly if enough of you beg in the comments for like a part three then maybe I will write one. also is there kpop fans here, specifically nct fans? if there are, I have another blog for nct lol. anyway enjoy reading.

part I

post about part III

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

“I’m gonna go to the restroom,” you whisper to Arthur, as his older brother, Lorenzo is telling a story at the dinner table.  Arthur nods his head, letting your hand go, he looks back and smiles at you before returning his attention to Lorenzo.  His smile has your heart melting, Arthur and his pearly whites.  

After you left the table, Charles silently followed after you.  He caught up to you in a back hallway to the restrooms.  Wrapping his hand around your arm, to stop you, it set your skin a blaze.  “I know you,” Charles said with a bit of a glare.  

“Yeah, we just met tonight at dinner…” 

“No, I know you from before tonight,” Charles corrected his earlier statement.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about I have never seen you before tonight,” you said, trying to convince yourself that you were wrong and Charles isn’t the one you slept with.  

“You’re the girl from that night, the one that was in my bed.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you don’t know if you’re trying to convince Charles that he's wrong or if you’re trying to convince yourself anymore.    

“Don’t lie, I haven’t forgotten that night,” Charles says softer this time, his tone gentler now.  It would be a lie to say that your heart didn’t skip a beat with how Charles talked.  

“I don’t want to remember that night,” you say this time, trying to push the memories from that night away from your mind.  Charles took a step closer to you, when someone was coming down the hall to use the restroom.  His cologne surrounded you, you couldn’t describe what he smelled like but it caused your mind to go fuzzy.  You felt overwhelmed with his presence.  

You watched Charles' gaze flicker between your eyes and your lips, “I don’t want to remember that night either,” Charles says clearly dazed.  Charles moves his other hand to cup your face, you want to have the strength to stop him.  But Charles makes your heart flutter, and your brian go hazy.  There’s something about being in his presence, being so physically close to him, that makes you forget about everything else.  

“I should…” you take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help because all you can smell is Charles’ cologne.  “Arthur,” you whisper, you’re trying to say you should go back to Arthur, but you don’t get all the words out.  

The mention of his brother has Charles halting.  “You should go back to the table,” Charles says, letting you go and taking a step back.   You nod your head, before walking away.  Charles doesn’t know what came over him.  He hasn’t stopped thinking about that night.  For the past three months you have invaded all his dreams, for three months Charles couldn’t get you out of his head.  For three months he wondered, what your name was, what you did like, how you looked before the morning after, who your boyfriend was.  For three months Charles has only thought about you.  

Charles remembers that night so clearly, he remembers what started that night even.  Him and Charlotte got into an argument about something unimportant, so Charles went out in an attempt to forget about it.  There at the club with a few friends, he spotted you.  You were dancing, and drinking with what looked to be a few girlfriends.  The sight of you sent shivers down Charles' spine.  He came over to dance with you, and you allowed him to.  The feeling of your body against his sent shocks through his system.  Your perfume caused his brain to fog up.  Something about you had Charles in a trance.  

When Charles finally returns to the table, you both pretend nothing happened.  You take Arthur’s hand in yours and you smile lovingly at Arthur.  You notice Charles takes his girlfriend, Charlotte’s hand, and kisses the back of it.  You and him look at each other, you don’t know what passes through his mind, but thoughts of that night pass through your mind.  Suppressed memories of Charles hovering over you, filling you.  His hands on your body, his lips on yours, his body pressed against yours, all those memories fill your mind.  You turn back to look at Arthur, trying to stop the heat crawling over your body.  

After you break the gaze, Charles looks down to his lap, having to adjust his pants.  He knew he was fucked when one glance from you did this to him.  You knew you were fucked, when at the end of the night when Arthur placed a kiss on your lips, your mind still play thoughts of Charles.  

-

“Come on, it’s gonna be fun,” Arthur says, as he drags you along.  Charles is taking the yacht out today, and Arthur insisted on you coming along, even though you already told him that you would prefer to stay at home.  Against your wishes, Arthur drags you along nonetheless. 

Charles picks you and Arthur up from the dock, before moving onto the yacht.  When you finally get aboard, Charles and Arthur don’t waste any time, immediately jumping into the water.  When they come back aboard, you feel your heart pound, as water drips from Charles’ bare chest. 

“Someone like what they see?” Charlotte asks from behind you, as she holds out towels for the boys.  

“Huh?” you pull your gaze away from Charles to look at his girlfriend.  

“Arthur, you like what you see,” Charlotte says pointing to Arthur who was standing behind Charles.  

“Yeah, of course,” you say, as the guilt begins to eat away at you. Charles looks at you and he knows you weren’t looking at Arthur.  You grab a towel from Charlotte, walking past Charles to hand it to Arthur.  “How does the water feel?” You ask Arthur.  

“Nice, refreshing,” Arthur says with a flashy smirk, grabbing the towel from you.  

“You girls should take a dip,” Charles says, you feel his gaze on you, his voice sends goosebumps down your skin.  

“Maybe I will,” you say in a hushed voice, Arthur thinks you’re talking to him, but you know you’re talking to Charles.  

“Oh? I should join you,” Arthur says with a playful smirk, as he sets down the towel.  You pull off your shirt, and you step out of your shorts to jump into the water.  You still feel Charles gaze on you, you feel him stare at you.  

“They look good together, yeah?” Charlotte asks Charles, as she hugs his arm, watching you and Arthur jump into the water.  

“Yeah,” Charles mumbles, not hearing what Charlotte says, too focused on you.  

-

That night so many drinks are shared that no one really makes it back to shore.  Charlotte is tucked away in Charles’ room, while Arthur is passed out in another room that Charles set aside for him.  Any other friends that Charles had invited out for the day, are already fast asleep.  There's only you and Charles left up, nursing your drinks.  You sit far away enough from him, that his scent doesn’t surround you.  

“Does he know?” Charles asks, breaking the silence first.  

“He knows, he doesn’t know it was you.”  You don’t need the context to answer the question, you already know what Charles is referring to.  

“What did you tell him?” 

“That it was a terrible mistake, that I don’t remember who the guy was, that I would never do it again,” you answer truthfully.  There’s no one around, there’s no reason to lie anymore.  “Does she know?” 

Charles takes a sip of the beer in his hand.  You can see the debate go on in his mind, he takes a second before answering, “no.” 

“I should go to bed,” you stand up from your seat, placing your drink down on the table.  Charles matches your movement standing up with you.  You watch Charles, make his way towards you, closing the distance you put between the both of you.  He wasted no time, cupping your face and grabbing your waist pulling you in close.  You feel his lips brush against yours, not a full kiss, “don’t,” you whisper, closing your eyes.  “Don’t do something we’re gonna both regret,” you get the words out this time. 

“I want to,” Charles whispers, “I want to kiss you, even when I know I shouldn’t.”  You don’t dare to open your eyes to look at Charles, afraid that as soon as you open them, you’re gonna succumb to your desires.  “Look at me,” Charles whispers, noticing that you’re not looking at him.  Against your better judgment, you obey.  You open your eyes and look at Charles.  

You do it.  You push yourself slightly higher, pressing your lips against Charles’.  It's almost instant with how he responds, pulling you closer, holding on to you tighter.  You wish you stopped at a kiss.  You wished you stopped after you fell back into the seat.  You wish you stopped when he moved to your neck.  You wish you stopped when he moved down to your chest.  You wish you stopped when he continued to move down your body.  You don’t stop him.  

You don’t stop Charles when he pulls your bikini bottoms from your legs.  You allow Charles to pull your legs apart, as he kisses everywhere he needs to.  Charles licks between your folds, covering the entire area.  You want to wrap your legs around his head to keep him in place, but Charles stops you.  He pins your legs to the deck floor as he continues to eat you out.  He wants to hear your moans, your pleas, your cries, but both you and him know better.  You place both hands over your mouth, trying to contain any sounds.  

Your body is on fire, on the verge of ecstasy.  Charles doesn’t stop or even slow down, he is determined to taste you tonight.  Charles moves his thumb to glide over your clit, while his tongue pushes in and out of you.  You bite your hand to stop the extreme moan that tries to escape.  Charles notices you struggling to keep quiet, he looks up at you from his position with hooded eyes.  “You need to keep quiet,” Charles says to you, and all you can do is nod your head, “good girl.”  Charles goes back to eating you out at a more vigorous pace.  Your toes start to curl as you feel your orgasm creep up on you.  You’re teetering on the edge, and with one full lick, Charles shoves you over the edge.  

Charles doesn’t stop there, licking up all your juices.  When he finally pulls away, you still see traces of your orgasm on his lips.  He moves back down to kiss you, you’re able to taste yourself off of his lips.  Charles moves down to kiss at your neck again, he wants to mark you.  Claim you as his.  He wants to display his work on your body.  He wants everyone to see you belong to him.  He wants Arthur to know you’re his, but he doesn’t.  He doesn’t mark your body, he doesn’t linger in one spot too long, he doesn’t.  Instead he pushes your legs further apart, making space for himself.  

He takes his cock in his hand, guiding himself into you.  He fills you up in all the best ways possible.  He kisses away all the pain, he wants for your signal to move after he bottoms out.  When you do give in he moves slowly, painfully slow.  “Charles,” your words comes out as breathy whimpers, “faster, please.”  

Charles was never the type to deny a woman of her needs, so he goes faster.  He goes faster, he pulls your leg up around his waist, and you throw your head back.  You can feel all of him deep inside of you, and he offers nothing but pleasure.  You’re rushed back to the edge of that beloved cliff.  He moves one hand back down to your clit, rubbing soft circles.  The complete opposite to his blunt, hard, fast strokes.  You bury your head in Charles’ neck, you moan into him for only his ears to hear.  

Charles fears you being too loud, that he pulls your head away from his neck, and pushes his thumb into your mouth.  Your eyes go wide, with the realization of what Charles is doing.  You hold his hand to your face, and suck on his thumb.  Charles didn’t think the act of you sucking on his fingers would turn him on so much.  Charles loses all focus, feeling too good.  You fall off the edge first, when Charles hits the one spot you needed him too.  You clench around Charles that sends him over the edge.  

You both lay there out of breath for a minute still connected.  You don’t want to let Charles go for him to pull out, but he does nonetheless, as he wrapped your legs from him.  He couldn’t help himself but watch as his cum spills out from you.  He doesn’t stop himself dragging his fingers up your folds pushing it back inside of you.  You snap your legs shut, trapping Charles’ hand, as your hands fly to cover your mouth.  

Charles pries your legs apart, taking his fingers covered in yours and his cum, shoving it back in your mouth.  You suck and lick his fingers clean, and you swear Charles’ eyes go dark after that.  

-

Charles brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek as the two of you lay bare, wrapped up in a blanket.  “We should get dressed,” you whisper as you look up at Charles. 

“This was a mistake,” Charles whispers to you, not really convinced that it was.  

“It’s never gonna happen again,” you lie.  The two of you untangle yourselves from each other.  You each get dressed back faced to each other.  There’s no more words exchanged between the both of you, as you silently walk to your respective bedrooms.  You don’t take a peek at Charles as he enters his room, and Charles doesn’t take a peek at you as you enter your room.  You crawl into bed with Arthur, and wrap your arms around Arthur.  You close your eyes, and try to get yourself to sleep.  But Charles’ scent lingers too strongly on you, that it makes your mind fuzzy, that you’re not able to sleep.  That you’re all hot and bothered, all over again.  

Charles climbs into his bed, Charlotte instinctively wraps herself around Charles when she feels him enter the bed.  Charlotte smiles in her sleep, now feeling Charles with her.  Charles looks down at his girlfriend and tries to push all thoughts of you to the back of his mind.  But your lips are burned onto his skin.  He can still feel your kisses against his neck.  Your hands are burned onto his skin, so he can still feel you gripping his arms.  Your legs are burned onto his sides, that he can still feel them wrapped around his waist.  Charles can still feel all of you around him. 

You’re so hot and bothered, that you wake Arthur up.  Charles is so uncomfortable that he wakes Charlotte up.  But it's not the same for either you or Charles.  

-

You want to say that was the last time.  You want to say that it was a mistake.  You want to say that it never happened again.  But that's all lies.  It happens again and again.  It happens constantly over the next two months.  It happens so much that you have a strange feeling that Arthur knows.  You and Charles both agree to stop until things stop being so suspicious.  

You look over at Arthur, sleeping peacefully in your bed.  The sight has your heart breaking in two.  You want to be head over heels in love with Arthur.  You want Arthur to send your skin ablaze like Charles does.  You want Arthur to cause your heart to flutter with a single glance, like Charles does.  You want Arthur’s kisses to burn like Charles does.  You want Arthur's touch to send shocks through your system like Charles’ does.  You want Arthur to have the same effect on you like Charles does.  

“Hello,” you press your phone up to your ear, turning away from watching Arthur sleep.  “Why did you call?” 

“Why did you answer?” Charles’ voice comes out clear through the speaker, even without seeing him.  His voice still sends shivers down your spine.  

“We can’t do this Charles, Arthur is asleep,” you whisper.  

“I had a dream about you,” Charles whispers too, afraid he’s going to wake the sleeping Charlotte in his bed.  

“And?” you feel the wind knocked from your lungs.  

“You had my baby,” Charles answers honestly.  You place a hand on your stomach, you feel your eyes well with tears.  You’re in too deep and you know it.  

“y/n,” Arthur’s voice cuts clean across the room, your heart drops, “who are you on the phone with?” 

You pull the phone away from your ear, hanging up the call before anyone can say anything else, “it was my mom, she pressed the wrong button.”  You lie so easily to Arthur, you have gotten good at hiding things now.  

“Okay,” Arthur says, deep down he feels like you’re lying to him, but he just thinks he’s being insecure.  

“Let’s go to bed,” you say with a soft smile, turning off your phone.  

-

You shut Charles out completely.  You block his number, you block him all on social media platforms.  Anytime Arthur invites you out with his family, you fake an illness.  You do a marvelous job of avoiding Charles completely.  So much of a marvelous job, that Charles forces you to see him.  You don’t know how he does it but he shows up at your front door demanding to see you.  You couldn’t help yourself but open the door to him.  

The sight of Charles has your heart racing, you feel it want to jump out of your chest and run away.  His scent invades your nose, it surrounds you and you feel your mind going fuzzy.  “What are you doing here?” your voice comes out meek and tired.  

“Why are you avoiding me?” Charles asks, his voice sounds strained.  He looks like he hasn’t been sleeping well.  You close your eyes looking away from Charles, he moves cupping your face to look at him.  

“Charles, we can’t,” you speak softly this time, you’re trying to say all your thoughts but Charles.  

“No, y/n what is this about?” There’s a tone of uneasiness in Charles’ voice, you try to push him away, but he just pulls you closer.  His hands remain on your face, that has you losing your focus.  

“Charles your dream,” you are out of breath when you speak.

“It was a stupid dream,” Charles says. 

“No,” 

“What is it?  Talk to me.” 

“I was happy,” you say, finally looking at Charles, as the tears escaped you.  “You told me you had a dream of me having your baby and that made me happy Charles.  Arthur was sleeping in my bed,” you placed a great deal of emphasis on the ‘my’ of my bed, “and I was happy with the thought of your baby.  Your brother, Charles, your brother was in my bed.”  

Charles finally lets you go.  He looks at his hands as if there's blood on them, there minus well be blood on them, his brother’s blood.  “This was a mistake,” Charles says, this time he means it, “I shouldn’t have come.” 

“Please go,” you whisper, as you silently cry, turning away from Charles.  

“I’m sorry y/n,” Charles says as he walks out the door.  That’s the last time you see Charles ever.  

You make sure it’s the last time you ever see Charles.  That very same day, after Charles leaves your place, you break up with Arthur.  You tell Arthur the truth, the easy truth.  That you fell out of love with him, that your heart doesn’t feel the same anymore.  That you’re sorry and ashamed that your feelings changed so drastically.  

Arthur doesn’t even know if he wants the answer, but he asks anyway, “were you cheating on me?” 

You think about your answer carefully, you think about what your answer would mean.  What it would do, how it would affect everyone, what was the best thing to say.  You take the time to answer Arthur’s question, you think very carefully before answering.  “I was, you don’t know him, he’s someone from back home.” 

“What was it about him that I didn’t have?” Arthur asks, again he doesn’t know if he wants the answer but he still asks.  

You have to think carefully again, Arthur and Charles are similar in so many ways.  There's so many things that they shared, “nothing,” you finally answer.  “He wasn’t better than you, my heart just chose him.”  

“Are you gonna be with him now?” 

The answer comes fast this time around, “no, he has a girlfriend.”  

“What are you gonna do now?” Arthur asks, this time he knows he wants the answer.  

This time you don’t have to carefully word your answer, “I’m gonna go back home, I think i’ve been away too long.”  

Arthur nods his head, he stands up to leave.  It feels weird, almost unsatisfying.  You thought Arthur was gonna yell, shout, cry, but he didn’t do any such things.  Before he makes it out of the door, he turns back and says, “I hope you find someone who makes you feel like how that guy made you feel.”  Arthur then shuts the door behind him, in that moment you caught a glimpse of Charles in Arthur.  You leave Monaco within the week, you try not to think about it.  

However even when you get back home, thousands of miles away from Charles, you can still feel his lips on your skin.  You can still feel his hands grip your waist.  You can still feel the shocks he sent through your system.  You can still feel the blaze he set to your body.  Even thousands miles away, your body still longs for him.

part iii

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

Taglist: @somanyfandomsbruh@starfly-nicole@janeholt3@sheslikeacurse@uhhevie