#which is to say ​you live alone in the house yes but where you’re really alone is inside your head

[ickeoresteia]

— PEOPLE KEEP SAYING I LOOK LIKE YOU —

Elektra · Robert Icke’s Oresteia

[mv1simp]

max taking advantage of innocent!best friend!reader … like a dynamic where he spoils her a lot and has made him look her think that all his strange behaviors/touches are normal

I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH THIS IDEA FOR AGES THANK U FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT 🙏🙏🙏

Friends ♥️

Max Verstappen x Childhood Best Friend!Reader

And what the hell were we, tell me we weren’t just friends, this doesn’t make much sense, no

Max has been your closest friend since childhood, promising to always look after you. Sure, everyone gossips that you two are secretly dating, that it’s not normal for friends to be so close, so touchy - but Max blows it all off. So when you ask him for help when you want to get a boyfriend for the first time, it shouldn’t be a problem because Max doesn’t like you like that…right?

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin! Reader, manipulative dark best friend! Max, dubcon, size kink, dom/sub, somnophilia, recording, this is DARK 🥸 3.3k WC

You and Max had grown up close together, your families being good friends as your fathers had raced together back in the day. He had been shy and awkward when you met, age 5 and 6, but as soon as he had stepped in front of you in defence when you had been bullied in school the next day, you vowed to always be loyal to him. Your families approved the friendship, laughing and taking pictures when you two would play house - Max always being the husband doll to your wife doll, of course. You two did everything together - school, holidays, racing where you always came to support him bearing snacks and words of encouragement. So when he asked you at age 18 to move with him to Monaco you didn’t even hesitate to say yes - not imagining a life without your Maxie by your side.

Your move raised a few eyebrows from your family, who had been suprised that you hadn’t outgrown what they had thought was an innocent childhood crush. Your older sister had been especially worried at the thought of you alone in a new city with only Max there to support you. She noticed, sometimes, when he thought no one was watching - how his eyes would be watching you, in a way eerily similar to how a wolf watched a lamb he was about to devour whole. Althought it had taken a lot of pleading from your end to win her over, it had been easy enough to convince your parents to let you go, explaining you were enrolling in Monaco University - being bankrolled by Max’s new generous F1 salary - and yes, promised that you were staying in your own separate apartment. And that had been the plan, but when you stood in the entrance to Max’s penthouse a few weeks later, dripping head to toe with sprinkler water because somehow your up to code apartment had a fire when you had been out, he had insisted you stay at his until you found a new place - just for a short while. A short while then turned into a long while which then turned into the lockdown and at the end of it all Max had said you just couldn’t leave, he was too used to having you there that coming home to an empty apartment would be too hard. And although you had worried, saying that as you both got older it might be strange that you now lived together and people would talk, Max shot down all your concerns, reassuring you with a warm hug and sweet kiss to your forehead that the only opinion that mattered was yours, and as long as you’re happy Schat, I don’t really care what anyone else thinks. You had blushed from the affection and that was the end of that discussion.

You’d always been quite sheltered, naive even - and going to a strict private school meant you hadn’t had any romantic or sexual experience whatsoever. Growing up, it was clear to the adults around you that you had always held a crush on Max, and althought the older boy would always look out for you, he didn’t reciprocate to the same way - at least that’s what they thought. They hadn’t noticed that when you two had been gently separated one night when it had been deemed you were too old to sleep in the same bed anymore, Max had crept back and grabbed your hand as he lay next to you, mumbling he couldn’t sleep without you, liefje. No one noticed that this habit continued well into your teens, when Max would climb in through your bedroom window - initially making you freak out but soon reassured by Max’s words that your parents were just too strict, you were just two best friends wanting to spend time together.

And the first time you woke up one morning to feel something thick and hard pressing into you from the back, scaring you a bit, Max had gently rubbed your shoulder from the back while telling you it was okay, it’s just something that happens sometimes when a guy sleeps next to a pretty girl, you had blushed and accepted the compliment. And no one knew that behind closed doors your chaste goodbye kisses to Max’s cheek began turning into loving kisses on the lips when he had tilted your head up, saying he was going to miss you so much when he went on his first F1 race and he deserves a goodbye kiss for good luck from you, didn’t he?

And of course you would always give Max whatever he asked for since he was your best friend, your protector, the person you loved the most in the world. He’d pay for you, drive you everywhere, cheer you up when you were down, make you laugh, patiently take you shopping and rate every outfit you tried on, fight anyone who dared to give you a hard time - and the rest of the paddock had definitely noticed the lingering attentions of the Redbull driver to his childhood friend. Daniel and Lando constantly gave him shit for it, saying he needed to grow a pair and just confess instead of making puppy eyes at his “best friend”. Max always just rolled his eyes at their gossiping ways.

But it was hard to deny their claims when Max would pull you in to sit on his lap at a games night making everyone smirk at you, or when you would emerge from his hotel room the next morning since you two still shared a bed everytime you went away - it’s just like a sleepover when we were little, scatje, nothing wrong with it - or when at fancy award ceremonies or galas Max would be photographed in his tux, a vogue model at his side as his latest girlfriend - and you on his other side, wearing a luxury dress he’d brought for you. The paparazzi would eat up the dirty looks Max’s flings would always be shooting you, knowing they always came second to his best friend.

The thing was, even when sometimes doubt would flicker in your mind that things were too intimate, too romantic, between you and Maxie - you couldn’t bring yourself to want to draw back. You’d always secretly had such a crush on the older boy growing up, but since he had never directly reciprocated and was now a big world champion with women around every corner in Monaco after him, you’d learnt to accept your feelings were unrequited and you needed to stop reading so much into Max’s pure intentions to look after you. After all, that’s what best friends did, right?

And oh, did Max look after you. It seemed every week he’d level up more and more. Matching jewellery and heels to go with the designer dresses, and lately you had come home to find matching lingerie in Max’s favourite colour, dark blue. You had blushed furiously, feeling an indescribable icky pit in your stomach and remembering your sister’s warnings - Max goes too far, he pushes the boundaries of a normal friendship - but Max put all your worries to ease over the homecooked dinner you made him that night, explaining that the latest dress just happened to come with matching accessories and he wanted to make sure that you felt beautiful in all the layers you wore and it was normal to give your best friends gift, no? But he could return it if you’d prefer… prompting you to hastily accept his intimate gift, reassuring him that it was so thoughtful and you were so grateful. He’d looked so pleased with your response that when he ordered more and more sets, each one getting just a touch more lacier and risqué, you just thanked him for each one. And when he asked you how you found your gift, could he have a look at it, please schatje, I always help you pick your prettiest outfits right? You had nodded in agreement, blushing but shyly pulling his hoodie off your torso to expose the outrageously expensive La Perla black lace set you wore, accentuating your plump ass and pushing your tits up for him to hungrily look at. Max’s gaze had lingered there for a long time, his gaze turning dark and you had felt that same uncomfortable pit begin to settle in your stomach again when he saw the look on your face and patted your soft, chubby waist in reassurance, saying don’t be embarrased, schat, we always grew up seeing each other like this, right? Remember that photo of us swimming in that pool in Ibiza? Completely naked? Besides, you’ve seen me shirtless so many times, this is the same as that. That was true, you accepted dreamily, and not thinking anything of it when Max started asking you to send photos of you modelling the cute sets he’d get delivered to you when he was away. You happily snapped away mirror selfies, in all the different angles he wanted to see you from, even strange ones you weren’t quite sure about like bend over and stick your hips right up in the air, hmm schat?

He’d kiss you goodbye now all the time, saying you were his cute little good luck charm, with the expectation that you’d open your lips wide for him, letting him shove his tongue into your mouth and explore it to his hearts content. Gotta have a better kiss to get better luck. It felt so nice and made you feel all tingly between your legs so you would never turn it down. And since Max was away more and more with his racing schedule, often he would come home and fall asleep straight in your bed, saying he had missed being away from you so much. You had thought it was so sweet, no one else but you got to see Maxie like that, you were the only one he depended on. So you easily wrapped yourself up in his embrace, just like when you two had been little - except this time Max would say you’re so tense, schat, let me help you relax a bit, my physio knows this great muscle relaxation technique-

And it felt soo nice when he rubbed your sensitive little body up and down, you had no complaints, not even when some nights he would travel much, much lower down your plush little tummy than he had before. You just obediently parted your legs for him when he commanded in his deep voice, running his thick finger up your slit through your wet lace panties. And sometimes you’d wake up to feel that very familiar hardness of his behind you, soo warm now as he took himself out of his sweatpants and let his cock rest against you. Feels all tense, sweetheart, cause you kept rubbing against it last night and I didn’t get any sleep he would sigh.

You’d feel terrible, apologising profusely for interrupting his precious sleep when he trained so much, asking how you could make it up to him when Max had said just gonna let it relax out onto you, yeah? Don’t worry, you can even go back to bed, baby. You’d nodded sleepily, so grateful that Maxie was so sweet he always put your sleep first, even when his had been deprived.

He’d waited before you were comfortably nuzzled back against him, breaths turning deeper as sleep overtook you before slowly lifting your damp panties out of the way, and sliding his leaking tip just along the entrance to your innocent hole, making you moan, half asleep cause it felt soo good, and you felt so guilty that you felt so much pleasure while Max had just become frustrated overnight. With your eyes screwed shut you’d never notice the dark lustful look in his eyes, the evil smirk on his face as he had his way with you, letting him getting away with practically murder if it was for the sake of your friendship. You let him continue gliding his cock along your puffy folds, his tip repeatedly stimulating your sensitive clit, his large hands coming up to fondle at your boobs that has somehow slipped out of your camisole and gently flick your nipples before he tensed, holding you tightly against him as his breaths quickened. You has felt something warm and wet leaking out from the sides of your panties. You looked down, dazed, but Max shushed you back asleep, lulling you into his arms again. And when you woke up next you always had a clean pair of fresh panties on, camisole tucked back down over your thick hips, Max no where in sight.

As you grew up, your sexual curiosity eventually began to peak. When all of your friends in uni had gotten boyfriends and giggled to you about how good sex felt, you had gotten curious too. of course, you would never bring it up with Max even though you two talked about everything - because you should only be talking about sex with your future boyfriend, right? But one day when you had come home early from class you had heard lewd noises coming from Max’s bedroom. So lewd that you had been unable to stop yourself from peeking through a slight gap. The sight of Max thrusting himself into his latest girlfriend, her face pushed down into the mattress as he drilled into her from the back made you blush furiously. You’d stood there for a little while, your panties getting damp at the sight of sweat dripping down Max’s abs before you had caught yourself and scurried away, so guilty about violating Max’s privacy like that. You were such a creep, what was wrong with you?!

But that afternoon had also made you realize Maxie had so much more experience than you as you hadn’t been sure what a lot of the movement and positions you had seen that day were. And Max had said you could always ask him for help with anything, right? You couldn’t quite build up the courage to ask him - until your classmate asked you out one day, making you giddy with excitement but come crushing down when he had later found out on the date that you were a virgin, and had said maybe it was best for you to be with someone who was more on your level, that he didn’t feel comfortable being with someone so inexperienced for a casual fling. You’d come home sobbing, running straight into Max’s arms in your cute little dress and strappy heels, crying Maxie, he was so mean, you’d never believe what he said-

Max had been furious when you told him the story. He was so, so angry - not only at your classmate, but at you, for going on this date and not telling him, the way you would always tell Max about everything you did in your day. How could you be so careless, so slutty to go out with a guy like that? Max demanded, making your eyes widen and cry harder. It’s those new girlfriends of yours, aren’t they, they’re such fucking whores.

You’d never seen him so angry before, not even when he had a DNF at a race weekend. He’d only seems to calm down when you had looked up at him with innocent eyes, pleading Maxie, please, will you teach me how to be a good girlfriend, I don’t want to be so inexperienced anymore.

He’d sighed and run his hands through your hair, wiping away the tears that had made mascara drip down your cheeks. Of course, schat. I’ll show you exactly how to be a good little girlfriend. But promise me that you won’t talk to another guy without my permission first, okay? I have to protect you and make sure that you’re trained enough to have a boyfriend.

It was so, so sweet of Max to take time out of his busy schedule to help your embarrassing problem, you thought dreamily. You never noticed that your classmate never turned up to class again, but did have to go to hospital that week for a new black eye and bruised ribs.

Meanwhile, Max first started your “lessons” by showing you how to pump him from soft to a raging erection, guiding your hands into his sweatpants and moving your hands up and down, after you spit cutely into your palms to ease the glide. You didn’t notice the smirk on his face as he watched your struggle to jack off his entire sizeable length with your tiny palms.

Then he’d shown you how to use your mouth to make him feel good. You’d sat on your ass for hours in between his legs as he absentmindedly played his game, drawing kitten licks up his shaft before he’d taken over and told you to relax that tight throat of yours, baby, as he shoved his cock inside your mouth. He’d jackhammered away happily without any regard for the tears that emerged from your eyes. You had coughed, spluttered, throat raw for days as Max made you practise on the daily, tutting at you in mock disappointment when your gag reflux got in the way and you stopped halfway down his length. He’d pulled you up to sit on his lap, his hard cock wedged in between your plush thighs, as he put a dirty video onto the TV - petite ebony deepthroats massive white cock like a pro.

You had blushed and stuttered at the obscene video, looking away at one point but Max had forced your head back to look at the scene, saying don’t miss this bit, schat, look how she doesn’t forget about his balls, yeah?

You’d watched video after dirty video until you had perfected your blowjob technique exactly to Max’s likings. You look up obediently at him as he points his phone at you, flash on and all, recording your performance for reference, of course scatje, we need to track your progress, right? as you sloppily took his hard cock into your eager mouth, all the way to the base, gag reflux well and truly trained out of you from his daily discipline.

You’d woken up the next morning to find Max’s blonde curls between your legs, his tongue sweetly licking at your most innocent parts and you had squealed in shock, Maxie what are you doing ohmygod- but he quickly thrust his fingers into your drooling mouth to shut you up, just progressing to the next level, sweetheart, you need to learn to cum whenever I ask you too.

You’d squeaked and whined as his tongue didn’t stop flicking your clit, his fingers now joining in abusing your poor little virgin cunny until you begged him to pull away, Maxie please I feel funny, I think I’m going to pee- Ahhh!!! You’d ended up squirting all over his fingers and tongue, immediately passing out from exhaustion at the sheer intensity and missing the dark, pleased grin on Max’s face as he licked up your juices from his fingers. God, it was almost too easy to brainwash you into his perfect little pet. Soon he’d having you asking him to claim your virginity, he just knew it. And he would not hesitate, taking what had always belonged him anyways. He’d have made you his housewife a long time ago if your goddamn sister hadn’t kept cockblocking him.

Never mind that. Even she wouldn’t be able to withhold her blessing when you’d turn up at the next family gathering, glowing and expecting his child, he thought darkly. Smirking to himself, Max unbuttoned his pants, freeing his hard cock. In fact, why wait to feed you some bullshit excuse about how no baby, virgins can’t get pregnant the first time or no, I can’t use a condom, schat, it’s bad for you to have something unnatural inside you.

He might as well start now and give you a thick creampie as your present to wake up to later ♥️ After all, you’d take it like the good girl you always were for him.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Chile anywaysssss don’t mind me and my depraved thoughts. Gotta go drink some holy water fr. Lmk what you guys thought! Feel free to request more x

[irb-pascalito-99]

One Last Time

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (no outbreak AU)

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: angst, smut, rough sex, oral f!receiving, oral m!receiving, overstimulation, semi public sex (at Joel’s job site), pinv sex, multiple orgasms, breakup sex

Summary: After a conversation that ended in a breakup, Joel’s girl shows up at his job site to talk after hours. Despite everything else going on the two agree to be with each other one last time.

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter 16 of my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more of this pairing check out my a03.

The inside of the dive bar is hazy with smoke. It's a dingy place, hidden on the outskirts of Austin with only a handful of patrons gathered around. Aside from a group of men at the bar who appear to be celebrating something, the place is dead. I nurse my drink at a table in the corner of the bar where they keep the jukebox, doing my best to disappear into the background. I wouldn’t bring anyone out to this bar for a night out, but it was close by the house and I wanted to get out of the house after Tommy picked Ellie up for her sleepover with Sarah. Apparently Joel is working late tonight.

I’ve been doing my best to ignore them, but Maria’s words still repeat in my head. The only one getting in the way of you actually being happy is you. I close my eyes and sway to the soft melody playing throughout the bar as I attempt to turn off my thoughts.

“Excuse me,” a husky voice with a British accent says from beside me. I turn to see a man standing to my left. He’s tall, with tousled brown hair and a muscular build. “Sorry to bother you, miss, but you look awfully lonely over here.”

The man’s bright blue eyes look me up and down, a sly smile painted across his face. He holds a beer in one hand, standing between me and the exit. I shake my head and take another sip of my drink.

“And what makes you think that?” I retort when I put the glass back down.

“You’ve been alone all night.” He responds. “You haven’t made a move to talk to anyone.”

“So you’ve been watching me.” I say, spinning the straw around my glass.

“Well, it’s pretty hard not to when you’re the prettiest girl in the bar.”

I take another look around at the other patrons. An older woman and her husband are drinking at one table. A middle aged man is arguing with the bartender, and the group of men my new admirer must have come from is watching us intently from the other side of the room.

“Yeah well, there doesn’t seem to be much competition.” The man looks around as well and laughs.

“You might be right about that.” He averts his attention back to me as I pick up my glass and finish the last of my drink.

“My name is Andrew.” He sticks out his hand which I reluctantly shake. “And yours is…”

“I’d rather keep it to myself,” I explain. I expect him to look dejected as I shut him down, but instead he looks amused. The man smiles at me as if I’ve issued him a challenge.

“Alright then, can I at least buy the nameless beauty a drink?” I don’t really want the company, but what harm could come from letting him buy me a single drink? I nod my head and hand him my empty glass.

“A Long Island” He smirks at me, taking it with him as he walks back to the bar.

It only takes him a couple of movies considering how dead the bar is tonight. When he walks back over to our table he walks with a swagger.

“Here you go,” the man says when he reaches the table, giving me a wink. He places the drink down in front of me.

“You really been drinking Long Islands all night?” He asks as I pull the drink closer to me.

“Yes, and?” I ask, maintaining eye contacts as I take a sip. The man chuckles and shakes his head.

“Nothing, it’s a strong drink that’s all…” For a moment the bar feels as though it’s morphing around me.

The dead hazy dive bar shifting to a lively country joint in the city. The man’s shocking blue eyes melting into familiar warm brown ones. I can almost feel my heart stop beating, my breath becoming shallower as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing. His hand grazes my thigh, his fingers smooth and gentle where there should be callouses. I blink again and the memory is gone, a panic beginning to set into my body. What am I doing here?

“Are you alright?” He asks, a look of concern cascading his face. I nod and push my untouched drink back toward him.

“I’m sorry, I actually have somewhere I have to be.” I say, stumbling a little as I place my feet back on the ground.

“You sure you’re alright?” He asks again, reaching over to help me as I gather my things. I pull out my phone to call a ride.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Thank you for the drink.” I say over my shoulder as I rush back outside.

I walk a little ways down the block before I pull out my phone and the little scrap of paper Joel gave me the other morning. I don’t know what I’m doing when I type the address of his jobsite into Uber. I try not to think too hard about it on the drive there either.

When the car finally pulls up to Joel’s jobsite the gravel parking area in front is empty, aside from Joel’s old truck sitting on the outskirts. I’ve managed to sober up a bit on the drive over, though my skin is still flushed. The car idles as I get out and thank the driver. After I hear the car drive off I walk closer to the construction area in the hopes of finding Joel.

The building in the lot is nothing more than a dark frame in the blue haze of dusk. No flashlights or lamps illuminate the space from what I can see. As I get closer I notice a faint orange glow through the window of a trailer near the entrance. I bury my hands in my pockets as I walk over, trying to ease my nerves as I try to figure out what I’m going to say.

The metal steps scrape against the gravel as I walk up to the door of the trailer. My stomach lurches when I stop just in front of the door. I swallow back the nerves climbing their way up my chest and throat.

I pull on the door, but it stops in its place making a thumping sound as the lock keeps it latched. Maybe he isn’t here after all. This was a stupid idea anyway. I turn back to the building behind me, trying to decipher if I can hear any sounds from the area.

“Damnit John, you forget your keys again?” I hear from behind me. The door slides open and I whip around to see Joel standing in the doorway, one hand on the handle and another on his hip as he turns around. He’s wearing his usual flannel shirt with a bright orange safety vest overtop. He stops in his tracks when he turns to me and realizes I’m not a member of his crew.

“Hey,” Joel says softly. He examines my face with a concerned look on his own. “Are the girls okay?”

“What?” I ask, distracted by the way the sleeves of his flannel bunch up around the elbows. I’ve never seen him in work mode before. “Oh, yeah, they’re still with Tommy and Maria.”

He looks tired. There are circles under his eyes and his curls are messier than normal. I can’t imagine how many hours he’s been putting into this project.

“Are you okay?” Joel holds the door open a bit wider to let me in.

I squeeze past him, breathing in his scent as I pass by. He waits by the door while I stand in the middle of the trailer looking around. There are blueprints spread out on the table near the kitchen area which consists of a microwave, a small countertop with a coffee pot on it, and a small fridge.

There’s a desk in one corner of the room with a pile of hard hats laying on the floor next to it. Orange vests and dirty coffee mugs litter the top of the desk. Closer to the kitchen space is a group of chairs and a couch the crew must use to lounge on between shifts. The entire place is covered in a layer of dirt.

I’ve never put much thought into what Joel’s work looks like. I’ve overheard him and Tommy discuss projects from time to time, but it’s different seeing him in this element. I walk over to the table and look at the plans Joel has there.

There are various lines erased and moved around. I struggle to read the different numbers and labels written in each of the empty spaces. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of Joel’s footsteps crossing the room as I attempt to figure out what it is they’re building. I feel the warmth of his body behind me as he murmurs my name.

“Are you okay?” He asks again. I turn to face him, immediately lost in the depth of his eyes. His eyebrows knit together in concern.

I hadn’t put much thought into what I would do when I got here, I just knew leaving that bar I had to see him. It’s selfish, but I can’t say goodbye without something to hold onto.

“I was thinking, I really don’t want to leave it where we did, physically. So I was hoping maybe, maybe we could…” I close the distance between us. My body presses against his. I feel his breath falter as I move my hands beneath the hem of his shirt, gently feeling the warmth of his skin while he shivers beneath my touch. “One last time.”

The minute the words leave my mouth his lips are pressed to mine again and then his tongue slides across my bottom lip. We grip each other close as we devour each other, my fingernails running down his chest, until we have to break for air. Even when our lips do part we stay close, our breaths tied together as they fan across our lips.

“You know, it’s really not safe for you to be on a jobsite without wearing the proper equipment.” Joel mumbles against me, making a joke to lighten the mood while I regain my breath.

His hands move up my body to rest loosely on my hips. I move my hands back out from under his shirt and grab his biceps. Leaning on my tiptoes, I kiss along his neck. His jaw tightens as he looks up at the ceiling while I press my lips delicately along the column of his neck.

“Is that so?” I whisper, swiping my tongue along his skin. The salty taste of sweat lingers fills my mouth as he gulps.

I move my hands from his arms and place them on his chest gingerly before gently pushing away from him. He watches with lust blown eyes as I cross the trailer to a pile of hard hats I saw when I came in.

I look over my shoulder with a wink before bending over to pick one up from the bottom of the pile. Joel audibly groans from across the trailer at the sight. I bite my lip and grin while I stand back up and grab a vest off the desk.

Before putting the vest on I turn back to Joel and take my shirt off, exposing my bare chest and torso to him. I throw my shirt in his direction which he grabs with one hand. A mischievous look is spread across my face when I put the vest on and place the hard hat on my head. I keep my eyes glued to his as I walk slowly back to where I left him.

Once I’m in reach Joel reaches out and grabs my hips beneath the vest, his thumbs skimming my bare skin while he rests his palms on the denim of my shorts. I press my lips against either side of his neck slowly before sinking to my knees. My hands trail his body carefully on my way down while I continue watching his face. He starts to breathe heavier when I kneel on the floor, his breath stopping entirely when I begin to unclasp his belt.

“I can’t…“ he begins, shifting on his feet when I free his belt from the loops of his worn down jeans. “I’m not gonna last if we-“

“I want to taste you one more time. Just relax, enjoy it for a little bit and I’ll stop before you come.” Joel nods ever so slightly and watches me push his jeans down his legs.

His cock bulges against the thin material of his boxers. I nearly drool at the sight of it, delicately tracing a finger against the outline of him. It twitches at my touch and Joel groans loudly. He reaches out to grip my shoulders while I move my hands slowly up his thighs to rest on the waistband of his underwear.

I look up at him beneath my lashes, placing the tips of my fingers under the elastic. His eyes are darkened, watching my every move intently. His length immediately leaps up when I pull his waistband down. Joel struggles to remain still as I ease his boxers down to the floor.

He looks perfect like this. I can feel the wetness gathering between my legs while I run my hands up and down his thighs. His chest heaves as he continues to watch my every motion. I love my hands up once more, holding his hips in place as I look up at him again.

I press a soft kiss against his left hip bone. His body tenses under my grasp, his chest no longer rising as he holds his breath. I grin against the skin on his hip and move to kiss the other side. When I pull my lips away he exhales again, a shiver running through his body at the same time.

His grip on my shoulder tightens as I slide my hand across his hip to his length. I watch his face intently with each movement. He grits his teeth as I begin to slowly stroke him. My confidence grows seeing the way his body reacts and the way he struggles to maintain composure under my gaze.

After a couple of strokes his tip pulses and begins to leak pre-come. I bat my eyelashes at him, leaning in slowly. He groans and immediately closes his eyes when I take him in my mouth. I start with the head first, swirling my tongue around it slowly. His hips twitch when I wrap my lips around him and he groans loudly as I push him further in my mouth.

I take my time with him, bobbing my head up and down slowly, taking more and more of his length each time. He inhales sharply the first time he hits the back of my throat, my lips wrapped around the base of him. I drool a little as I pull back. Joel wipes the saliva from my chin.

“Fuck baby,” He groans. “I’m so close.”

I grin, ignoring what I said earlier as I revel in the way he’s coming undone in my grasp, and pushing him back down my throat. He sputters at the motion, breathing heavily as I hold him there.

“Sugar,” he growls. He tangles his fingers in my hair and looks up at the ceiling. “Slow down, ya gotta-“

Joel lets out a strangled moan as I choke slightly around his length. I pull him out of my mouth, a trail of spit and pre-come dripping onto my chest and sliding between the valley of my breasts. I wipe my chin with my fingers, and push them into my parted lips while I maintain eye contact with Joel. A redness creeping up his neck as he watches me.

“Fuckin’ naughty,” Joel growls, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to my feet. “Alright babygirl, my turn.”

Once I’m standing he grips my face with both hands. He kisses me hungrily, pushing me backward until my back meets one of the walls of the trailer, the hard hat clunking against the wall as he angles my face up to kiss me easier.

When I’m cornered between his body and the wall he moves a hand down my body to my shorts. I whimper against his lips as he undoes the button and pushes the denim down my legs. His fingers dance across the bare skin he’s exposed. Joel pulls his lips from mine to look down at his fingers between my thighs.

“No panties?” He groans. I giggle and bite my lip, squirming against him. Joel groans again and delves his fingers between my folds.

He slides his fingers through my slick a couple of times before sinking to his knees in front of me. He pulls his now soaked fingers from my center and brings it toward him.

“All this just from putting me in your mouth?” Joel asks, looking up at me and showing me his glistening fingers.

Past the point of being able to form a sentence, I whine in response as my slick starts to drip down my thighs. He smirks at me and brings his fingers to his lips to clean them. I pant while I watch him through hooded eyes, desperate to have his fingers back on my body.

Joel continues to grin up at me, watching my desperation as he lifts one of my legs to rest on his shoulder. The coarse hairs of his mustache rub harshly against my thigh as he presses kisses to the skin there, starting at my knee and moving closer and closer to where I really need him.

I hold my breath when his lips stop right at the top of my thigh. His darkened eyes sparkle as they look away from my face to the view in front of him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna miss this baby. Looks so pretty for me.” He presses a kiss to my clit next, the hard hat on my head thunking against the wall again as I throw my head back and squeeze my eyes closed. “Taste real good too.”

He teases me first, licking smooth circles over my clit but not adding enough pressure to actually get me anywhere. I squirm against him and desperately try to move my hips up to meet his mouth, but he pushes them back against the wall with a devilish grin.

“Joel, please,” I groan in frustration.

“Just relax, enjoy it for a little bit,” he says cheekily, quoting what I had said earlier when the roles were reversed. I huff and lean back to watch as he continues his languid strokes.

He slowly adds pressure until I begin to arch into his mouth again, my fingers pushing his cheeks away from his forehead to get a better view. He scrunches his eyebrows together in concentration while he pushes me further and further and fur-

“Oh god, right there,” I moan as he manages to apply just enough pressure to the right spot.

He continues the motion over and over as the pressure builds. The hand I have tangled in his hair pulls slightly, causing him to groan. I gasp as the vibrations send a shiver down my spine. Sensing the effect it had on me, Joel groans again and I snap. My walls clench around nothing as I moan and buck my hips while my climax washes over me.

The noises I make spur Joel on. Now that he’s gotten my first orgasm, nothing is holding him back from seeing out the next one. He laps at my folds hungrily, ignoring the way my body twitches under him. I’m seeing stars, still not completely over my first climax as a second washes over me.

I scream as this one tears through my body, more intense than the last. I yank at Joel’s hair and feel the tears build in my eyes as each wave of pleasure rushes through my body, electrocuting every nerve inside me.

“Joel!” I whine as I attempt to squirm out of his grasp. My body aches, my clit throbbing in sensitivity but Joel still isn’t stopping. “Joel, fuck. It’s too. Fuck it’s too much.”

I struggle to get any words out while I pull at his hair the wood paneling of the trailer sliding against my sweaty skin as I thrash. It’s so intense I’m nearly numb as he slides his fingers through my center.

“Oh babygirl, if this is the last time I’m ever gonna taste this pussy I have to savor it,” Joel says, kissing my throbbing clit again. “You can take more, right sugar?”

I’m not sure I can, the sensitivity from the past two orgasms is nearly painful, but I’m not ready for this to end. I’m not ready to be done with him, and I’ll take everything he gives me until it is over. I let out a whimper, looking up at the ceiling as I nod.

“Good girl,” Joel murmurs and dives back into my folds. His tongue laps up the juices from my last orgasm before moving up to my clit. I twitch as I try to remain still beneath him.

His tongue moves back to my clit, drawing circles on the bundle of nerves. I moan and clench his hair between my fingers. My third orgasm is already building when he pulls a hand from my hip and pushes two fingers inside me.

The sensation is overwhelming. I lose all ability to think as he begins curling his fingers inside me, pumping them in and out while I moan his name. I feel his lips twitch into a smile at my sounds as he continues to move his tongue against me.

My whole body tenses with each motion. I’m so close. I grip him harder, pulling at his hair and hearing my teeth as I feel the pressure building. I’m on the edge, peering into absolute bliss when he pushes a third finger in. My jaw drops as I gasp and immediately let go, no longer aware of anything except the feeling of Joel between my thighs.

My jaw drops in a silent scream and my body begins to slump down the wall as I no longer have the strength to keep myself up. Joel slows his movements, working me down from the edge as my breathing slows. I’m vaguely aware of the way he supports my body, even as he stands and wipes my juices from his chin.

He wraps my arms around his neck to help support me while keeping his hands around my waist. My eyes droop as I watch him press delicate kisses against my neck and collarbone.

“Mark me,” I whisper, not even realizing the words had left my mouth. Joel hums against my neck.

“You sure about that darlin’?” Joel mumbles against my skin.

We’ve always been careful not to leave evidence of our trysts visible to others, but if this is the last time I get to have him I want the reminder. I want to look at my skin tomorrow and remember I once was his. If this is the last time I want everything. I don’t want to hold anything back in concern for others.

“Yes, please, make me yours,” I mutter.

He starts with my breast, sucking the skin on the top of my left breast into his mouth before pressing his teeth into me delicately. A soft purple bruise is already forming on the skin when he pulls away to move further up my body. He pushes the bright orange vest down and nips my shoulder next, taking his time to smooth his tongue over the mark before moving on to make another on my neck.

He continues littering my body with marks, leaving as much of him as he can while pressing his hard length against my thigh. I move one arm from around his neck, trailing my hand along his body until I reach his throbbing cock. His teeth clenched a little tighter around my shoulder and he hisses against my skin when I wrap my hand around him.

“Baby,” he whispers as I position him between my thighs, rubbing his cock through my wet folds. The wet sounds of him sliding through my slick are obscene, only making me wetter.

“I need you,” I whine, sliding my hips against him again. His cock twitches at the words and he pulls his lips away from my neck.

He pushes his hips against mine and watches me with dark eyes. I can feel every vein and pulse of him against my clit as I try to push my hips further toward him. Another thrust forward and his head catches my hole, eliciting a moan from both of us.

“Jump,” he growls into my ear.

“What?”

“Jump” He doesn’t have to ask again, my body reacts to the word before my mind can even process what’s happening.

I jump up, Joel grabbing my ass and hoisting me against the wall. He holds me in place while I reach down and grab his length. I run my finger along the vein as I line him up with my entrance. He groans as he slowly pushes inside, my eyes closing at the stretch of him.

I’m going to miss the burning sensation of my walls stretching around him, and the way I can feel him pulse inside me. I’ll miss the way his hips feel against mine as he bottoms out and the sound of his low moan as the soft curls around the base of him tickle my clit while he holds me in place to let me get used to the size of him.

He starts the pace slow, his hands on my ass holding me up as he moves his hips to meet mine. There’s an intimacy to the way he’s holding me. He pushes himself deep inside me, each thrust a fluid motion, entangling our bodies so much so that we almost become one. I close my eyes as the emotion of it all becomes too much.

Behind closed eyes the memory of the night before my father’s funeral plays in my mind. The way he held me. The way he saw me. The way my ever needs and emotion became a part of him comes rushing back as I scratch my fingernails along the expanse of Joel’s back. I clench around him while he continues his movements.

“Look at me sweetheart,” Joel grunts. “Come on beautiful, look at me.”

I snap my eyes open to see his deep brown ones peering into my soul. The pure adoration on his face is enough to send me over the edge again. I gasp as another climax washes over me, gentler than the ones before but pulsing through my entire body. He maintains eye contact, continuing his thrusts as I hold onto him. He loves me. Each movement serves as a confirmation of what he told me, the action to prove the meaning behind his words. He loves me, and I feel so guilty because he shouldn’t.

As my orgasms ebbs I try to push the guilt away, rocking my hips against his in an attempt to change the pace. I bring my lips to his neck and make a mark of my own which seems to spur him on. Joel’s thrusts become harsher. He groans as I nip at the skin on the other side of his neck. As I pull away and lean back against the wall he wipes his thumb against my lip and glances down at my body.

The vest now hangs from my elbows, barely brushing the floor as my entire body moves with each thrust. His cock glistens under the bright fluorescent lights as he pulls back before thrusting inside me one again, fuck we look good like this. Joel looks down as well and whines at the sight.

“I’m not going to be able to look the guys in the face for days,” Joel grunts, his fingers playing with the bright orange mesh of the vest. The hard hat continues to thump against the wall with each of his deep thrusts. “Only going to be able to picture you wearing this shit.”

“Maybe that was the plan all along,” I whisper in the shell of his ear, letting my teeth just barely graze his skin. “Just giving you something to remember me by.”

He groans and untangles my legs from his waist in response. I whine as he lowers my feet to the ground and pulls out.

“What-“ He doesn’t bother answering or even giving me time to finish my question as he rips the hard hat from my head and turns me around.

Joel pins one arm behind my back as he pushes me against the wall. He kicks my legs apart, grabbing his cock and pushing back inside. I moan loudly as he starts a new, harsher, pace that is devastatingly good. My face presses into the wood paneling off the trailer as each thrust knocks the air out of my lungs.

“I’ll give you something to remember babygirl,” Joel growls in my ear.

He’s so much deeper at this angle. I can feel all of him, the tip of his cock pressing against my cervix with each thrust. I moan loudly as he thrusts faster. With my free hand I grab at the wood in front of me, my fingers pressing so hard I can feel the grains making indents in my skin.

For a moment I can almost forget this is the last time. I lose myself in the pleasure only Joel can give me. I’m floating, feeling every detail of this moment while being caught somewhere in a dream. The coil in my abdomen wraps itself tighter with each of Joel’s grunts.

I can tell he’s close too, his thrusts becoming sloppier and his moans getting louder. We both try to hold off as long as we can. Neither of us want it to end, not yet. I can’t let go of him yet, but I can’t hold on any longer. The coil snaps, and the second I tighten around him I feel him let go as well. His cock twitches inside me. He coats my insides with spurts of come as he growls and tightens his grip on me. The hands he has on my arm pushes me even further against the wall while I cry out for him, so hard I’m almost certain the whole trailer might come toppling over.

He slowly thrusts into me a couple of times as he comes down. When he stops moving he presses his lips against my shoulder where he pushed the vest away earlier. His length softens inside of me but he makes no move to pull out just yet.

He kisses my shoulder again and moves one hand around my body to draw circles on my clit. I hiss at the contact, completely spent from the several orgasms he has already gotten out of me but unable to pull away from the last touches I have left of him.

“I know darlin’, I know” Joel mutters against my shoulder as I whine. “I’m sorry but I’m not ready to let go of ya just yet.

I rest my forehead against the trailer wall and resign myself to his gentle strokes. Covered in the combined juices over our climaxes, his fingers glide easily against my bundle of nerves. Tears gather at the edges of my eyes, both from the overstimulation of it all and the realization that it's almost over.

“That’s it babygirl,” he whispers as my pussy clenches around his cock. “Be a good girl and give me one more.”

My tears slide down my cheeks as he works me over the edge, quiet moans escaping my body. He moans as well as he feels me pulse around him.

When my climax fades and I’m left catching my breath Joel finally slides out of me. I keep my forehead against the trailer wall, bringing a hand up to my face to wipe any evidence of tears away while he searches for our clothes.

When Joel returns he lifts one leg and then the other as he helps me back into my shorts. The remnants of him are already starting to slide down my thighs, but I don’t attempt to wipe it away.

When I turn to face him he already has his jeans and boxers back on, his belt unbuckled and hanging from the loops. Neither of us speak. I’m not sure what to say at this moment anyway. He keeps his eyes on my face as he hands me my shirt while I look away. I pull the safety vest off, handing it to him in exchange. We both finish dressing and stand in front of each other, a noticeable shift already swelling in the space between us now that the list has faded. Our costaron from the diner still rings true.

“We can sit and talk if you want,” Joel offers after a couple of minutes. I want to. I really want to.

“I probably shouldn’t.” I respond, avoiding his eyes.

Despite every cell of my being begging me to stay, I know I can’t. Each moment I spend avoiding the inevitable will only make it harder to walk away. Joel nods and turns his eyes to the ground.

“I’ll drive you home.” He mutters, grabbing his keys from the counter. He holds the door for me as I cross the trailer and grab my purse from the table where I left it when I got here.

Each moment of the drive is spent in a painful silence. He holds my hand in his on the seat between us, his grip tightening the closet we get to my house. When we finally pull into the driveway he reluctantly lets go. I take a deep breath as I leave the truck, not looking back at the man I’m leaving inside it.

I hear Joel call my name just before I open my front door. I turn to look at him, his mouth open and eyes wide. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was about to cry. He freezes at the next sentence, unable to say the words but I know what they are.

“You can say it,” I say softly, nodding my head and granting him permission.

“I love you.” He lets out, his voice cracking at the end. I bite my lip, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, turning my back and closing the door behind me.

This is an excerpt from my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more visit a03.

[liliesformingi]

"much love, laufey" - a mini series by @liliesformingi. view series masterlist, and outline here.

2.'falling behind' - hongjoong x reader “a sickly romance in the air, lovers stroll without a care in sight.”

author's note: i love, love, LOVE this song! yes, it's not a niche nonchalant mysterious unknown laufey song, but there's a reason it's so good. laufey, i love you, thank you for speaking up on lovesick girl nation! warnings: alcohol consumption, angst, mentions of breakups

In your silky black dress, shiny burgundy stilettos and thin bolero, not only were you physically freezing cold, but emotionally icy, too. The wine you were drinking was only fuzzing your brain and increasing your nausea, yet you continued to sip at it, wallowing in your misery. When your niece tugged at your hem to ask if you wanted to play a game with her, you uncharacteristically swatted her away. Then the guilt settled in, and you had dragged yourself to the snowy front porch to reflect on your mood.

Which was where you were currently sitting, and currently reflecting.

You usually loved spending winters with your family in your old neighbourhood; there was gossip in the kitchen with your mother and her sisters, and card games and movies in the living room with your younger cousins and grandparents. Your nieces and nephews were sweet-natured and funny, not irritating and sticky like other children, but well-mannered and entertaining. Your siblings and their partners were lovely; amazing parents and partners and endlessly giving. 

The way your sister had pulled you aside to gently ask if your boyfriend would be coming a little later on had been from a place of nothing but kindness and sincerity, and the way you had snapped at her had been from a place of anger and humiliation.

It had been childish of you, really. Since that interaction, you’d been avoiding her like the plague, fearful of her approaching you to apologise and only causing the guilt to settle in even worse. 

But even more childish had been the way your boyfriend had broken up with you a mere month before. The same boyfriend who had accompanied you the past three trips, grown on close terms with your parents and regularly helped you babysit your nieces and nephews. The boyfriend who had promised you that one day, he’d marry you, and then you too could have children of your own running around at chaotic family gatherings like this one.

“Fucking liar,” you hissed to yourself, the warmth of your breath melting the icy air in front of you.

“Aren’t you cold?” a voice had asked, a little distantly. You looked up, squinting through the flakes of snow that blew in front of you, making out a man standing a metre away by the front gate.

“Aren’t you? Who the fuck takes a walk in winter, let alone half an hour to midnight?.” you snarled in response, then sighed and massaged your temples. “I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch. I need to put this away.”

You set your wine glass down beside you on the wooden slats and looked at him a little closer. He was still standing there, and the expression on his face wasn’t one of offence like you’d expected.

He was smiling.

“I’m a bit cold, but I just wanted to get out of the house. It’s nice seeing everyone, but it gets a bit overwhelming. I’m assuming you’re doing the same?”

“You’re a Kim,” you’d said, meaning it to be a question but saying it like a statement.

“Yeah,” he’d laughed. “I am. I’m Mrs Kim’s son, Hongjoong. You’re Y/N, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” you offered him a small smile. “Here every winter. You aren’t, though?”

Hongjoong nodded. “It’s my first time back in a while. Do you wanna walk with me? Bring the wine. I want to talk to someone that isn’t my overbearing grandmother.”

You held the glass between your fingers, taking turns sipping as you walked. Your heels were darn uncomfortable but the cold numbed the pain, and his presence was almost warming, in a way. As he spoke, explaining his occupation in Seoul and how he’d left as a teenager to pursue his love for making music, your heart softened a little, and you felt a tiny bit less resentful. A lot less resentful.

“And why are you feeling like shit?” he’d asked, stopping and looking at you.

Fuck, he was beautiful. Hair a bleached blonde, a couple of strands hanging loose and low in front of his warm eyes, cheeks tinged pink in the cold.

“My boyfriend dumped me. Three years and he only just decided a month ago that he ‘wasn’t ready for something long-term’.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have asked, though,” Hongjoong insisted, eyes apologetic. 

“It’s fine, truly. I’m not upset,” you replied, and for the first time all evening, you honestly weren’t. Your body felt warm in his presence, thawing the cold air settling in your lungs. 

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” He asked, looking at the goosebumps on your skin. Before you could respond, he shrugged off his jacket and slipped it over your shoulders. 

You could’ve kissed him.

“Thanks,” you breathed, the cold air on your cheeks suddenly heating up.

“It’s the thing to do, isn’t it?” He replied casually, although his cheeks were a little flushed. Maybe from the cold. Maybe from something else. He paused, looking into the distance a little. “Do you want to sit in my car? I’ll put the heating on, it’ll be warm and a lot quieter than what we’re dealing with.”

“I’d love that.”

So he led you to the direction of his car, parked out the front of his mother’s house. When his hand brushed against yours, you opened up your palm and slipped your fingers between his. And whilst yours were icy, his hand was warm. 

Your whole body felt warm as you sat in the passenger seat beside him.

The two of you talked, passing the glass of wine between you until it was empty and discarded in the centre console. You laughed, louder and truer than you had in a long while. He played soft music in the background. Mazzy Star, Fleetwood Mac, Laufey. Your body loosened in his presence, and soon, your leg was thrust across the middle of the car and on his, and his hand was resting gently on your thigh.

At 3am, you yawned and told him you probably should be getting to bed. He helped you out of the car, walked you to the door of your house, his hand still warm in yours. He was leaving the next morning, he’d told you this.

“See you next winter?” you asked, more of a manifestation than a question.

“Hopefully sooner than that,” he replied, slipping a note with a number scribbled onto it into the palm of your hand. 

You smiled at that, kissing him softly on the cheek. “Thank you for tonight, Hongjoong.”

“Anytime. And I mean that.”

You let him pull you in and bring your lips to his, skin cold but breath hot.

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[stevehours]

drinking game

steve harrington x fem!reader

18+ minors dni, drinking, smut

wc: 4.4k

As far as first dates go, this is the lamest one you’ve been on. Which you’d somewhat anticipated when you agreed to it. Steve Harrington is a couple years younger than you. The kid’s barely twenty. But he is incredibly handsome and well, it’s been awhile for you. Steve’s wooing skills haven’t graduated high school, like he has. He insists on picking you up, gets to show off the car his daddy bought him. It is nice. Must’ve cost a fortune when he was gifted it on his sixteenth birthday. The damn thing has a telephone in it. Power seats and windows. And the seats heat up, he tells you. Though in the middle of August, it’s not really necessary. It has great speakers, proven by the cheesy, 70’s baby making music he’s blasting from them. You can’t imagine Steve actually listens to this, but that it’s an attempt to get you in the mood.

He brings you to a diner for dinner where he tries to share a milkshake with you and then it’s a trip to the drive-in movies. It’s ripped out of the 50’s. Especially the part where he tries to make out with you, which okay, yes you indulge in until he grabs a handful of your breast.

“Alright, Romeo,” you laugh, pushing him back, “Cool it down a little.”

“Sorry,” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and settles back into the driver's seat. His cheeks are ruddy, either with embarrassment or arousal, you aren’t sure.

“It’s fine—“ you tell him and adjust your blouse, “It’s kind of cute.”

“You’re really pretty,” he blurts out, smiling and it does make you giggle. But you feel a little childish right after, so you shove his head and tell him to keep watching the movie.

Must be a win for Steve because that saccharine smile doesn’t leave his face.

After the movie, he starts driving but not in the direction of your apartment. He glances at you, “I’m having a really good time. Would you be up for maybe coming back to my place? For a drink or something?”

“Your place?” you snort, crossing your arms but you’re already convinced.

Steve blushes again, “Well, I live there. My parents are like, barely home. Business trips and stuff.”

“Alright, Harrington,” you shrug, “It’s early. Let’s do it.”

—

“It’s called Flip, Sip or Strip,” he says, holding up a quarter and looking at you under hooded eyes.

You cackle, fingers delicately holding the crystal wine glass that’s definitely worth more than anything you own. You didn’t know Steve’s parents were so loaded, though the car should’ve been the indicator. The pair of you are sitting in the living room of the Harrington home. It’s so intricately designed, the entire house following the same decorative theme. And it’s remarkably clean for a place a young man lives alone 75% of the time. You wonder if there’s a housekeeper that comes and cleans up after Steve.

“You want to play a drinking game?” you scoff, crossing your legs and you don’t miss the way Steve’s eyes follow the movement.

“You’ve heard of it, then?”

“Not since freshman year of college but, sure, let’s play,” you placate him, leaning back in the chaise lounge. In the back of your mind you’re wondering why expensive furniture is so uncomfortable. Steve scrambles from the equally looking stiff couch, opening what you can assume is his parents liquor cabinet. Under the record player that plays that same cheesy, romantic 70’s R&B he was blasting in the BMW.

He sets two glasses and a bottle of tequila on the coffee table and then pats the cushion next to him on the couch.

You raise an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t it be better to stay here? So you can actually see me?”

“Good point,” he grins excitedly and then says, “You first. Call it.”

“Heads,” you slur in a sultry voice, smirking at the way he looks back at you all slack-jawed.

Then Steve flips the coin in the air, catches it in his palm and slaps it on his forearm. He uncovers it and gets this real mischievous smile on his face. He doesn’t even have to announce it, you know the coin is tails up. You laugh and lean forward to grab the bottle of tequila, pouring yourself a small shot and downing it with ease. Then you extend your palm out and Steve hands you the coin. You watch him expectantly until he says, “Tails.”

You flip it, catching it in your hand and flipping it onto your arm. You giggle as you uncover it, wiggling your eyebrows at Steve when you tell him, “Heads.”

He shucks off his coat, tossing it behind him and making grabby hands for the quarter. You roll your eyes as you drop it into his hand and tell him, “Heads.”

Steve flips the coin and then his face scrunches up in disdain, “Heads.”

You snatch the coin from his hand as you cackle triumphantly. A few more rounds go on, you take off your heels with Steve’s eyes glued to your feet and he takes a shot. Then you’re challenged again to either take a drink or remove another bit of clothing. And you’re honestly feeling that shot of tequila so you’d rather not take another so quick. Hence, your tights come off. Steve watches the motion and chews on his bottom lip.

“You a virgin, Harrington?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together.

He laughs, almost offended as he shakes his head, “Far from it. You’re just too good to look at. Anyone tell you that you could be a model?”

“Flattery will get you almost anywhere. Heads or tails, big boy?” you smooth your thumb against the warm quarter.

He guesses correctly, but you don’t on your turn. And so off comes your blouse. Steve spreads his legs across from you, hands smoothing down his jeans as he grins salaciously at you. He incorrectly guesses tails and then pulls off his polo, exposing this jungle of chest hair you’re shocked by. A smug smirk spreads across his lips as your mouth hangs open. And he’s got all these moles decorating his gorgeous skin like constellations. He combs his own fingers through his chest hair and leans back on the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Still has his Nikes on.

You scowl as you throw the quarter at him, “Heads.”

And you lose, but you opt for another shot as you feel far more exposed than Harrington is.

A few more rounds leads to you both pleasantly buzzed and in your underwear.

“This game is stupid,” you decide when you incorrectly guess again.

Steve giggles and tosses the coin on the coffee table, “That’s okay. I’d rather take those off myself anyways.”

You hate that it works, makes your thighs warm up with dull arousal as you take your eyes over Steve’s body. He’s lean, soft but very faintly muscular. And those moles go all over him. All the way down to his feet. You heave a sigh and stand from the chaise lounge, stepping in between Steve’s legs and grabbing a hole of his square jaw. He blinks up at you, mouth ajar with fucking stars in those round, brown eyes.

“You have a really stupid, cute face,” you tell him, pushing his thick hair off his forehead.

“Uh, thanks?” he replies and you straddle his lap, pushing both hands into the waves of chestnut hair. You look at it, eyes narrowing.

“Do you have highlights?” you ask.

“Naturally— from the sun and—“ he starts but you interrupt him.

“Bullshit,” you grab onto his jaw again, “You get highlights in your hair.”

“No, I don’t,” he narrows his eyes and you completely seat yourself on his lap, feeling his erection press against your ass. You grind down on it and he lets out a gargled moan, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“You do,” you tell him and then get your lips on his jaw, feeling the subtle stubble against your face. You lick against his jawline, pushing your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to give you more room. You begin kissing down his neck and his hands grab onto your hips, guiding you up and down against his strained, hard cock. The whole hair argument is completely forgotten by Steve, his hips jerk weakly as he leans his head back and lets out these pretty, soft sounds. The kind of sounds that make your stomach fill with excited, horny butterflies.

You mark up his neck, the skin purpling from your pleasurable abuse. Suck and bite until bruises form and Steve’s whimpering underneath you. You relent on his neck, pulling his head back to look at you as you writhe against him. His hands skate up your sides and back down, landing on your ass and pushing you harder against his erection. And you get a real good look at his pretty face. His eyes tilt down slightly at the ends and they’re so full of desire. Wonderfully expressive and beautiful. You look up at his brows, smiling to yourself as you notice they’re manicured, just ever so slightly. This man takes care of himself. More than most. His complexion is remarkably smooth. You drag your fingertip down the bridge of his nose to the tip, smiling at the sharpness of it. Then you settle your eyes on his lips as they quirk up into a smile, he likes how you’re looking at him. Admiring him. His lips are plump, pink from the way he’s been biting at them all night.

“You’re pretty,” you whisper, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip and he kisses the pad of it. Sending your stomach ablaze as you roll down on him a little firmer.

“You’re prettier,” he replies, voice husky.

“How come you don’t have a girlfriend?” you ask, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I haven’t asked you, yet,” he tells you, smirking as he smooths his hand up your back to your bra. Unclasps it with two fingers, impressing a gasp from you and he smiles, straight and white teeth on display.

You help pull the straps from your arms and discard the lacy fabric aside, wrapping your arms around his neck again and then leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. You don’t think too much about what he’d just said, this is fun and you’ve just met. This is the first date, you barely know each other. But while this started out as a lame date, you feel uncharacteristically smitten at this point.

Steve kisses like he needs it. Hungry. Like his oxygen supply comes from your lungs and he’s been suffocating all night. Makes you breathless and dizzy. You whimper into each desperate exchange, sucking on his tongue whenever he slips it past your lips. His arms wrap around your middle, pulling you completely flush against him. Your hands get tangled in his hair yet again, a little obsessed with the way it feels between your fingers. Your noses keep bumping into each other and his pokes your eye a handful of times but it doesn’t slow either of you down.

You lift yourself up and Steve offers a whine until he sees you’re moving to take off your underwear, then he’s helping get them off and you’re situating yourself between his legs on the floor. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his briefs and peeling them down his thighs, gasping when his impressive length pops out and slaps against his abdomen. You give yourself a beat to look at it as Steve spreads his legs and writhes against the couch. Chewing on your bottom lip, you wrap your hands around the base of him. Your fingers don’t even meet when they’re circled around his girth.

“Christ,” you mutter and he laughs, a soft and almost insecure sound.

“I- I know, it’s kind of—“

“Huge?”

“Scary?” he asks, tilting his head as he gazes down at you.

It’s your turn to laugh, wondering how many girls have told him that. You’re not scared, no, the opposite.

“Not scary,” you tell him, “I’m thoroughly impressed.”

“Yeah? I’ve… I’ve been told it’s too—“ he swallows and his eyes squeeze shut as you stroke his length firmly.

“Too big?” you offer and work your hand up and down his gargantuan cock slowly, “I like a challenge, Stevie.”

He laughs again, but it’s a breathless laugh. He opens his eyes again and watches as you lick a broad stripe up the underside of his cock. His eyebrows furrow, lips parting with a sweet whine. You wrap your lips around the head of him, tasting the salty precum leaking from his slit. As you grip onto the base of him and attempt to take him into your mouth, you can feel just how hard he is. You lock your eyes on his, slowly sinking down on his cock. Drool slips past your lips and down the rest of his length, your hand slides up and smears the natural lube over him. You continue like that, fingers moving up and down where you can’t fit him in your mouth. You make a conscious effort to breathe out of your nose and use your tongue while you bob up and down on his cock.

Steve watches intently, thighs shaking as he tries his hardest not to buck his hips up. Just the size of him has spit pooling in your mouth and seeping down his length all the way to his heavy balls. His face looks extra pretty right now. Dazed and drunk on the pleasure, perhaps some of the tequila too.

His hands tangle into your hair, holding it out of the way as you continue your way up and down his cock.

“That’s it,” he breathes out, chest heaving as he praises you, “Doing so good for me.”

Those words hit you, make you moan on his length and wiggle your hips. You try to take him as deep as you can before pulling off, working your fist over his cock as you catch your breath. Once he’s not in your mouth, he bucks his hips and moans out shakily.

“Oh, fuck…” he seethes, his toes curling into the carpet.

You move your mouth to his balls then, still working his shaft in your hand and you start licking at his sack. Keeping your eyes trained on his gorgeous face. Steve blinks rapidly, rolling his hips up and spewing the prettiest little moans. And you’re kind of obsessed with his face at this moment, the absolute pleasure painted on it.

“So fucking pretty,” you tell him because you really can’t help yourself and Steve seems to like it, tugging on your hair and whining.

“C’mere… wanna kiss you,” he babbles out and you stand on shaky legs before crawling back into his lap and kissing him sloppily. He wraps his arms around your middle and thrusts his hips up, the side of his cock gliding through your folds and punching a surprised moan from you, which he swallows. Then his hands move down and firmly plant on your asscheeks. At first you assumed Steve was close to coming but the way he’s grinding you down on his cock tells you otherwise— he just really wanted to kiss you.

Then Steve pulls away, “Can I taste you? Please?”

You’re not inclined to say no to that, nodding your head emphatically and standing up from his lap again. You make a move to lay down on the couch, but Steve’s laying down first and grabbing at you.

“Sit on my face, please,” he whines and you flush, but do as he asks. Maneuvering your leg over his shoulders, you hover and look down at him. As if to ask if he’s sure. Which he answers by pulling you down on him, his warm and wet mouth meeting your dripping cunt. You moan out, hands grabbing onto the armrest to keep yourself upright as Steve devours your aching pussy. He’s moaning into you, seemingly loving the taste as he sucks and licks at your folds. Once you’re comfortable and downright desperate, you begin riding Steve’s gorgeous face. His hands are planted firm on your ass, guiding you through it.

“I’ve been dying to taste you all night,” he manages to tell you, pulling you off of him just the smallest inch before he’s dragging your pussy back down against his eager mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” you mutter out, “You’re so good at that…”

He really is, uses his whole face to do it. Nose rubbing against your clit, tongue teasing your hole while you drip all over his chin. You try to look down at him, lock eyes with his dazed, pussy-drunk ones but the pleasure gets overwhelming and your eyes start to flutter shut as you grind down on his expert tongue and really use his nose to get off. Your stomach fills with fire, your release gaining in ok you quickly. And once Steve’s tongue penetrates you, you’re a goner. Crying out his name in desperate pleas as you ride your orgasm out. You’re shaking when you pull off of him abruptly, worried that you’re about to suffocate him. And as you stand, looking down at him, you can’t help but giggle at the look on his face. Steve looks like he just came. Blinking slowly, a pleased smile plastered on his pink lips.

He stands with you, laces your fingers and kisses you softly. You can taste yourself on his lips but you don’t mind, giggling into it.

“Can I take you to my bedroom?” he asks once he pulls away.

You nod, shyly and looking up at him with stars in your eyes. He guides you up the stairs, stopping along the way to steal kisses. You’re not sure the last time you felt so much romance tangled in with sex. He presses you to the wall next to his bedroom door, swoops his mouth down to capture yours in a disproportionate chaste kiss. Again, linking your fingers and holding them above your head as he connects his forehead to yours.

“Don’t laugh— okay?”

You giggle, gazing up at him curiously, “Sorry. I won’t.” It’s unclear exactly what Steve’s asking you not to laugh at, but once he opens his bedroom door, you get it. It’s the ugliest bedroom you’ve ever seen. Everything is drenched in plaid, the wallpaper, the curtains, the bedspread. All so offensive. You bite your lip to stifle the laugh, but it all dissolves when you turn to watch Steve close the door and get a glimpse at his cock which is very much still hard. Then his bedroom doesn’t seem so silly anymore. Your hand wraps around his length as you press him against the door, kissing him filthy all over again.

Steve whimpers from the touch, muffled against your tongue as he places his hand on your face and holds you while he kisses back.

“I need you,” he slurs into your mouth and you nod, kissing him before you walk towards his bed. You lay yourself on it, head on his pillows as you bring your hands up to fondle your own tits. Watching as Steve’s hand falls down to his cock, stroking himself slowly. He then climbs on top of you, kissing you tenderly before he’s reaching over to his nightstand but something tells you to stop him, so you do. Hand on his wrist.

“No… I,” you swallow, lust driving this decision completely, “I wanna feel you… just you.”

Steve inhales sharply, moves his hand to push his cock down for some relief as he says to you, “Fuck… are you sure?”

You wrap your arms around his neck as you nod slowly at him, spreading your legs for him. He drops his head down to kiss you, all slow and gentle. His hand slips between your bodies, grabbing his cock and teasing the head of it against your aching center. You gasp softly, hands tangled in his hair as your hips roll, causing the tip of his cock to catch on your dripping hole. Steve sinks in slowly, inch by inch. It’s quite the stretch, has your jaw dropping as you adjust. His cock is hot and thick, you can feel it pulsing as it drags against your walls. It’s so delicious and heady, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist and your hips roll up until he’s completely sheathed inside you. And Steve’s gentle, doesn’t jack hammer into you immediately like most men would. He stays still and lets you get used to the feeling, kissing you softly and tenderly between needy moans and gasps.

“Feel so full,” you confess in a whisper and that gets Steve thrusting into you, groaning lowly against your lips.

“Yeah?” he asks, “You’re so fucking wet and tight… squeezing my cock so good.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moan, tugging his hair while he slowly builds a steady and deep rhythm. His hand moves to grab your thigh, squeezing it while he grinds down into you. The tip of his cock prods against that spongy, sweet spot inside you. Punches a yelp out of you to which he looks down at you, panicked.

“You okay?” he asks, blinking rapidly.

You nod, scratching down his back as you plead, “Fuck, yes… right there, do it again.”

A smile spreads across his lips, pretty teeth showing as he thrusts into you again. And again. Your back arches with it, pressing your tits to his chest as your legs spread further on their own volition. You place your hand on his cheek, watching his stunning face as he sinks in and out of your pussy, the filthiest sounds echoing in the room. He licks his lips, brow furrowing as his thrusts get harder and faster. Each time, he rubs against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. Dragging the most pornographic sounds you’ve ever made from your throat. You’re not sure you could recover from this, suddenly really hoping he does ask you to be his girlfriend. The two of you have barely even started and it’s the best you’ve ever felt in your life. His cock filling you in a way that makes you want to cry, in a good way.

“Steeeeeve…” you moan out, low and uncontrollably. “Fuck… that’s so good. Just like that, baby… yes…”

His lips are on your ear now, lowly telling you, “Taking me so well… such a good girl…”

Your cunt clenches around him, little desperate and pleasure filled pants and moans pouring out of you. “Steve, Steve… oh, Steve!” you chant, scratching down his back a second time.

His hips still and he laughs, burying his face in your neck as he mumbles, “Fuck- fuck, don’t wanna cum yet.”

You grab his face and pull his lips to yours, unhooking your legs from his waist as you kiss him deeply. Tongues lazily curling together, panting into each other's open mouths. You give him a beat to come back down, then you’re flipping the pair of you. Get Steve on his back and you on top of him, without disconnecting where you two meet. You place your hands on his furry chest, feeling the jungle of hair you’ve been staring at since he took his shirt off that night. His hands grip onto your hips, gasping and panting as he stares up at you, awestruck look on his beautiful face.

“You’re so pretty,” you tell him again and he laughs, that wonderful breathless sound you’re starting to fall in love with. Which is dangerous but right now, you don’t care.

“I’ve got the prettiest girl on top of me… and she’s telling me I’m pretty,” he mumbles out, dazed smile on his face.

“You are,” you assure him just as you start to rock your hips, face confronting as you feel his cock prod at that sweet spot deep inside you again. Your eyes cross from it, eyebrows knitting together as you bite your lip and you begin riding him steadily. Slow and gentle at first but soon enough, you’re bouncing up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby… just like that…” Steve babbles out, snaking his hand around and his thumb finds your clit easily. Works in quick, firm circles. Has you riding him even faster and harder as your climax threatens to rush over you. Building and building so quickly.

“Steve…. Steve?” you whimper.

Sweet, lopsided smile on his face when he asks, “Yeah, baby?”

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you confess, scratching your nails against his chest as you grind down on his length.

Steve keeps up his ministrations on your clit, doesn’t switch anything up. But he heaves this happy, aroused laugh and tells you, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock. Use me.”

Your body tenses when it hits you, sending you over the edge and you collapse on top of him. Face buried in his neck as you spew cries and moans. He grabs your hips, holds you steady and plants his feet on the mattress. That’s when he lets loose, thrusts into you with everything he’s worth. Mouthing praise against your ear as he fucks you silly.

Your eyes roll back, his thrusts punching repetitive and loud moans from your lungs.

“Fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns and squirms underneath you but you make no attempt to move.

“Fill me up, Steve,” you whisper against his ear, kissing under it and then telling him, “Wanna feel it. Cum inside me, baby.”

He lets out a gargled moan, arms wrapping around you firmly as he thrusts one last time and releases inside you, coating your walls with his spend. Your lips meet again, lazily and spent kisses as you both come down.

Steve strokes your hair, holds you close and kisses your cheek before he asks, “You wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah.. yeah, I do,” you reply, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead. “As long as you make you breakfast.”

“I’ll make you anything you want,” he says with a smile before flipping you over and kissing you deeply.

And okay… maybe it wasn’t such a lame date.

[just-another-author-i-guess]

This is mainly a question (by no means am i telling u to not write a fic tho if u find it in u) cs the way u characterize judd in ur writing matches so well with the shows but do u think he’d be into CNC?

And if he was how deep into it do u think he would be? Something tame like somno/his s/o telling him to stop but he doesn’t listen (HE STOPS WHEN THE SAFEWORD IS SAIDDDD OFC) or the more extreme part like him chasing the reader around the house 😛

(this is if ur comfortable w cnc ofc 🙏)

Girl the way I had to google what that meant— 💀

Also I really like that question lol, I’d like to do a more like “in depth” story about it but I’m stalling SOOOO HARD rn I just wanna get back into writing so bad ugh 💔💔

(ALSO YES!! MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN BUT RN I GOT 120+ AND IM IN OVER MY HEAD SO ITS JUST A SLOW PROGRESS)

But to answer the question; yes, most definitely.

Warning(s): nsfw mentioned mostly, I know I was reading this shit when I was a minor but guys pls don’t I’m begging you 🙏 minors dni.

≽^•𐃷•^≼

<3 Judd is freakyyyyy and would literally love to chase s/o around with a knife.

<3 like in a loving way tho, but yes that definitely turns him on

<3 I think I wrote something about him fucking s/o to a horror movie and to take it a step further, Judd would love love love to be in that horror movie

<3 Halloween? No wdym, it’s sexy time with Michael Myers (a/n: entertaining my own fantasies here ngl)

<3 if s/o is into it of course. His mom and sister definitely installed both the fear and respect of women and/or future partners into him quite early

<3 it’s something Judd and s/o has talked about beforehand, but if you’re out and about, in college or whatever he WILL find you. He’s unemployed and lives with his parents, it’s not like he has stuff to do, not if he’s horny anyway

<3 he definitely gets off on giving s/o a little scare. It’s the thrill of the chase for him and he’s hard before he even parks the van

<3 you asked him to pick you up after work and he’s late. His van is pretty distinguishable so it’s kinda weird you can’t see it parked outside, so you start walking.

<3 He’s in a black hoodie and sweats, the hoodie drawn above his head when he starts following you. It takes a while before you even notice and with the hoodie above his head, you don’t recognize him right away.

<3 the faster you walk, the faster Judd walks behind you until he’s falling in right behind you. When he grabs you, you freeze and think about all the murder weapons Judd undoubtedly has in his room to cut off the dick on this creep when—

<3 “Judd! What the fuck!” He turns you around and presses you against a nearby building, pulls down his hoodie and looks solemnly into your eyes.

<3 “The fuck would you had done if I was actually here to kill you? You’re not safe alone.” He’s only half joking because despite the fact that he planned this beforehand, he’s now suddenly concerned about your safety.

<3 “The only one making me unsafe is you, fucking asshole.”

<3 There are other less extreme examples where he’s not dicking s/o down publicly (which as stated above is definitely thing he’d enjoy)

<3 y’all have the consent talk at some point beforehand, but he’s not gonna ask.

<3 if you’re showering, he’ll slip in behind you

<3 he’s so fucking hard already, pressing into your ass or the small of your back and he doesn’t say anything but “c’mon. Spread your legs, slut.”

<3 what happened to hello? How are you?

<3 he does feel a little entitled to do so, yeah, but he’s also just very horny and he likes to touch you a lot

<3 not like he’ll give you a hug or anything. He’ll grope your ass (I’m labeling him as an ass man it’s just how I feel 🙏) or if he’s feeling wholesome and shit, he’ll let his fingers lightly brush the back of your neck and your hair

<3 with the safe word thing, he’ll definitely only stop if you say that word

<3 he’s not gonna believe you at no, he’ll need the word because I do feel like he’d have a bit of a hard time cooking off sometimes

<3 doesn’t mean he won’t respect the safe word because he respects s/o obv

<3 as I said, he likes the chase tho so if he’s stalking you, chasing you or some other normal boyfriend activity, he’ll def not stop from you saying so

<3 he’s into knife play and shit so that’s why safeword is important because he doesn’t want to actually hurt s/o yk? But he also doesn’t take squirming and “juuuuddd, stoooppp” for an answer right away

<3 ofc it’s also about reading s/o’s emotions you feel me??

<3 but bro he is NOT afraid to get freaky, he’ll be down to try a lot of things and he’ll he even happier of s/o brings stuff to the table as well, he likes pleasing his partner

<3 I feel like he’d not be THAT into somno bc he likes it when s/o is awake, like he likes to see that slight fear and excitement in their eyes and even tho he’s not opposed to doing it while s/o is asleep he’s still like,,, rather them be awake so he can be a dick bc he knows it turns them on lol

<3 but yeah, to sum this messy not so great headcannon up I think he’s DEEP into cnc, like genuinely I’d say it’s his main style bc he wants to be a horror movie character lmfao 💅

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Hi HELLO I LOVE THAT GIF?? Who made him in the sims contact me immediately 🤝

Also it’s been a looooong while since I wrote for Judd and I feel like I’m kinda out of it haha. But I really wanted to get back into writing just something bc I’m still experiencing a huge burnout and feeling really shit about my writing and stuff bc I haven’t done it in a while,,, I’m super rusty rn 😭 I just wrote this on a whim it’s not even a real head cannon but I hope I answered your question?? Kinda?? I know it’s kinda tame but ahhhhh

But genuinely I really wanted to get back bc reading all the nice things you guys sent me and comment on my works and stuff??? Guys you are too good to me 🥹🤭 I genuinely really like the tiny mini community (if I can call it that?) around this blog and thank you so much for liking and commenting on my stuff!! It literally helps me so much— anyways that was cringe but like enjoy ok bye 👹

[fae-renjun]

...AND EVERY CHRISTMAS AFTER — o.so

PAIRING oh sion x fem!reader ── .✦ GENRE childhood friends to lovers, fluff, very mild angst ── .✦ WARNINGS just kissing, the most fluff i've ever written ── .✦ SYNOPSIS in which you’ve spent every christmas growing up with sion, and if you’re lucky, you’ll spend every christmas after with him too. ── .✦ A/N this is my entry for the @k-films 2024 advent calendar! ── .✦ WC 1.4k+

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 11:27am

It’s Christmas day, and the whole house is alive and in a hurry. Shouts of “mom, where’s my sweater?” and “get out! I need to use the bathroom!” fill the air, drowning out George Michael’s voice in Last Christmas as it plays from the living room speakers. Frantic relatives rush through the hallways past fairy lights and fake wreaths to get ready for the guests to arrive. It’s the first year in your life that the guests haven’t stayed over on Christmas eve. 

“Y/N, can you make me hot chocolate?” shouts Sakuya from the floor above. “Why would I?” you reply to the brother in question. “I’ll do your dishes tonight.” “Deal.”

While you stir away at the two cups of hot chocolate in front of you, it becomes difficult to get your mind off the foreboding you’d felt in the pit of your stomach since waking up that day. You love your family, you really do. Winter break has been beyond fun with your cousins in town. But just this once you wish you could spend Christmas at your friend’s party instead. Just so you could avoid him. You still don’t have it in you to face him. Not after last December.

Almost as if your thoughts hold summoning powers, the doorbell rings, “Kids, come to the living room, they’re here!”

You walk out of the kitchen to face the family of your mother’s best friend, including her son: Oh Sion. The boy you hadn’t seen since new years, when you took a chance and kissed him and he didn't kiss back. The boy who stared back in disbelief after you pulled away which was more than enough to add to your mortification. The boy you’d made every effort to avoid all year.

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 24th december 2016, 7:54pm

“They’re so stupid, why would they use that door?”

“The point of the movie is that they’re stupid Sion.”

“Okay, but-”

Before the argument you’re having over Home Alone can go on any longer, your mother shushes both of you, “be quieter, everyone else is trying to watch the movie too.”

You lock eyes with Sion and then both of you turn back to your mother, “Now you’re just lying mom.”

“Yeah Mrs.L/N, it’s a kids movie, none of the adults here care. Not even you.”

“And Saku isn’t even old enough to know what’s going on.”

Your mother reopens her mouth as if to say something, but then seems to change her mind, smiling at the two of you and shaking her head. The two of you turn back to the movie as she turns to Sion’s mom, saying something about how no matter how much the pair of you bickered, you had a habit of standing up for yourselves together. If nine-year-old you cared to listen, you would have heard them say they hoped you two stayed this way forever.

It’s Christmas eve, you’re sitting next to a boy you would realise you loved 5 years later, and your mothers already think you are meant to be. 

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 12:02pm

Since he got here, you had avoided eye contact, excused yourself to finish making hot chocolate, excused yourself to go to the bathroom, excused yourself to set up the lunch table. Alas, there were only so many excuses you could make before being forced to sit in the living room with everyone else. By some Christmas miracle, when you got there the only open seat was the one right next to Sion.

Sion shifted to the side, making more space for you to sit, but instead you maneuvered yourself to sit on the carpeted floor right next to the Christmas tree. You manage to get through a lot of the wait time before lunch by eating candy, drinking your hot chocolate, only speaking when asked a question (usually “yes my studies are going great” or “yes, I've started looking at a few colleges”), and most importantly by looking everywhere except at him. Yet, your mother just had to shatter your nearly flawless streak of avoidance.

“Y/N, why don’t you get some hot chocolate for Sion too?”

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2021, 1:27am

“Shhh, they’ll hear!” you whisper-yelled at him.

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

You just shook your head in response and reached over to redirect the light from the phone in his hand to the stairs in front of you, tiptoeing down, hoping the wood underfoot won’t creak. The boy next to you grabs your hand with his free one, pulling the two of you closer together than you were before. You stare at the hands and then at his face.

Sion leans to reach your ear to whisper, “I thought I heard something from upstairs.”

All you do is nod in response and continue carefully making your way down. Sion’s face stays close to yours, his hand continues to envelope your own.

You reach the entrance to the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs, turning on its lights. Sion takes his hand off yours, coughing awkwardly as he moves away and turns off his phone's flashlight. You head to the shelf in the furthest corner, getting on your toes in an attempt to reach the cookies right at the top. Sion approaches from behind leaning over you to reach the cookies easily. The gesture and the proximity make your fourteen-year-old heart flutter.

He takes a seat on the floor, placing the cookies down, just as you do the same with the cola you pulled out of the fridge. 

“I can’t imagine a Christmas without you. Or uh- you know. Without all of this,” he says quietly.

“Me neither,” you respond, just as quietly.

It’s Christmas day, you’re sitting on your kitchen floor with a boy, and you’re beginning to realise you may not just have a silly crush on him. You might just be in love. 

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 12:27pm

The kitchen has always been just out of earshot of the main living room area. The voices of both of your families fade into the background as the two of you walk in, the rapid beating of your heart becoming louder by the second and filling your ears. You start making the hot chocolate as he leans on the counter next to you, trying (and failing) to meet your eyes. 

“You’ve been avoiding me. Not just today, all year. Since new year’s.”

“I don’t really want to talk about new year’s.”

“Hm?” he hums with a questioning tone.

You stop stirring, finally meeting his eyes, “It was just- you know. A mistake. Drank a little too much. Won’t happen again.”

“We only had one beer each that night. I know your tolerance is higher than that. And I’d like it to happen again.”

There’s a pause. You process what he’s just said to you. Sion can tell by the look on your face that the cogs are turning in your head and a smirk begins to form on his face.

“Oh.” 

He nods, then after another pause you continue, “But you didn’t kiss back.”

“Because I was surprised! You’ve got to give a guy a second to figure out what’s going on before you assume the worst,” he shakes his head in mock disappointment while he smiles at your stunned expression, “I was surprised you liked me back.”

“You liked me?” “I might actually be in love with you.”

“Oh,” your voice now reduced to a whisper out of shock, “I might be in love with you too.”

Now your body turns to face him fully, just as his hand moves to your cheek. He leans down, his lips meeting yours as your hands go to his sides, grabbing his sweater. You’ve kissed people before but with Sion it’s different (especially when he kisses back). You pull apart for breath, “Ok now this is our first kiss, the new year's one doesn't count.” You laugh in response, “Deal.”

Sion engulfs you in a hug, the warm kind he’s always given you. His arms wrap around your waist as yours encircle his neck. As you hug the two of you confess how much you missed each other all year. When the hug breaks he kisses you again and you can feel the smile on his lips.

All of a sudden your attention is brought back to your previous task, realising the hot chocolate must be getting cold. Sion watches you with adoration in his eyes as you turn back to the counter to finish stirring. The adoration has always been there, you’re just beginning to notice it.

It’s christmas day, you’re standing in your kitchen with the boy you love, and you finally know he loves you just the same. You’re excited for new years day, and every christmas after, because each one will be spent with him.

© 2024 FAE-RENJUN. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or steal any of my posts. networks: @kstrucknet

[abbotjack]

So here’s the thing, I haven’t watched Animal Kingdom and I am also insane. But Pope reminds me a lot of the Minotaur from the labyrinth. Like before he was shaped into a “monster” he was someone’s baby and there was love there once. And he’s always trying to find his way back to that. The Minotaur had a name too, but no one ever called him that. I often find myself wondering if, when Thesus dragged him out of the labyrinth, if he finally got to see the stars for which he was named again? Is Andrew hoping to see the stars again? He wasn’t always a weapon or a threat. But being down there in a dark all alone would make monsters of us all.

And to go on a different tangent, there’s a line by Ocean Vuong that I’ve been turning over in my head for years and I think might be applicable to Pope:

“What I really wanted to say was that a monster is not such a terrible thing to be. From the Latin root monstrum, a divine messenger of catastrophe, then adapted by the Old French to mean an animal of myriad origins: centaur, griffin, satyr. To be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning at once.”

I didn’t have a point beyond needing to tell someone this. And also, your writing is incredible. I’m constantly looking to see what you’re up to while I’m rereading your work. Thank you!

God.

You don’t even know what you’ve done with this ask. I read it and just sat there. Staring. Because it didn’t just make sense—it shook something loose. Not because I hadn’t thought of Pope as a monster before—but because you reframed the word. You reminded me that the monster didn’t make the labyrinth. He was just left inside it.

And yeah. Pope is the Minotaur. Not the horror-movie version—blood-soaked and howling—but the tragedy. The cautionary tale no one ever finished reading. The part where the boy was born into a house that already saw him as wrong. Too much. Too dangerous. Too emotional. Too intense. Where people locked him away and then blamed him for what he became in the dark.

Because here’s what kills me—Andrew wasn’t always Pope.

He was a twin. He was somebody’s baby. He was Julia’s brother. And for a long time, he was just a kid trying to survive in a house where love came with strings attached and violence passed as loyalty. He was a boy who loved so deeply and so literally that when Smurf told him protecting the family meant hurting people, he didn’t even flinch. He just obeyed. Because what else do you do when the woman who gave you life also teaches you how to take it?

That’s the labyrinth.

It’s not some mythical stone maze—it’s Smurf’s house. It’s the way she shut the doors behind him. The way she turned him into a weapon and then acted like she had nothing to do with the blood on his hands. The way she gave him one job: Protect them. And how every time he tried to protect someone, he ended up hurting them instead.

And still—still—he wants out. Not out of the family, not really. But out of the story they wrote him into. The one where he’s the threat. The one where he’s always the one people warn each other about. “Pope’s crazy.” No—Pope is traumatized. Pope is exhausted. Pope is made of a love so feral and so misdirected it devours him from the inside out.

So your line—“I wonder if when Theseus dragged him out of the labyrinth, if he finally got to see the stars for which he was named”—it wrecked me. Because I don’t think anyone’s ever asked that. Not about the Minotaur. And definitely not about Andrew Cody. But yes. I think he’s still looking for them. I think every time he climbs onto that roof and stares out at Oceanside, he’s trying to find the stars again. Trying to remember that there was light before all this. That there was a boy before the monster. That he had a name before they took it from him and made it something to be feared.

And Ocean Vuong—don’t even get me started. That line has lived in the back of my brain for years like it was waiting for a name to attach itself to. “A hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning at once.” That’s it. That’s Pope. That’s the way he stands in front of J with a gun in one hand and grief in the other. That’s the way he holds Lena like she’s breakable, even after everything he’s done. That’s how he stands over Julia’s grave like a ghost. That’s what it means to be him. That’s the tension I’m always writing toward—the impossibility of being both danger and protection. Of being the knife and the hands that pull it out.

And maybe this is where I get too personal, but I don’t care. Writing Pope feels like standing in a house you built out of barbed wire and trying to convince yourself it’s safe. It’s exhausting. It’s cathartic. It’s holy. Because I’ve never written anyone who makes me ache the way he does. Who feels like a myth I want to rewrite from the inside out. He’s not clean. He’s not neat. He’s not the hero. But he never stopped trying to be something more than what they made of him. And that—that’s the part that kills me.

So no, your message wasn’t pointless. You gave me a whole new frame to write from. You reminded me that monsters didn’t name themselves. And more importantly, you reminded me that the Minotaur—like Andrew—was always trying to get home.

Thank you for that. And thank you for reading. For seeing the shape of the man beneath the myth. For tracing the outline of the boy in the dark. I promise, he’s still in there.

[mockerycrow]

Please could I have Ghost with a fem reader and "You'd better get rid of everyone in this house or I swear to god I'm gonna fuck you on the first flat surface I can get you to, and I know you don't want anyone to know what you sound like when I'm fucking you."

Thank you luv!!

HOUSE PARTY (Ghost x Fem!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

[WARNINGS; no sex but very suggestive, alcohol ingestion, maskless simon.]

You sip your glass of alcohol—you don’t recall the name, some brand Kyle had brought to the house as a gift. The team managed to score a collective leave after a very successful mission; a mission you of course, were not allowed to know the details of. Whatever happened during that three month period though, left Simon incredibly pent up. After learning they managed to all get on leave together, you decided it was time to throw a party for them; to have some downtime. 

Of course, Simon lives with you, so you had gotten his approval. Nothing too big, just you, himself, and the rest of his team. Simon wasn’t interested in having strangers in the house which you could understand. He’s probably sick of seeing faces he doesn’t know after whatever he did on that mission. You’re all sitting in the backyard together around a firepit Simon had built about a year before. The pit and crackling with life from the fire; you’re all sitting on logs as seats. 

You’re sitting next to Simon, who has been unusually touchy tonight. Simon doesn’t keep his hands to himself when you’re alone, but the arm wrapped around your waist with his fingers sliding under your shirt to touch your skin is very out of character for him. You enjoy the touch, unable to resist your urge to lean into his side. You laugh at a joke, your body gently shaking against his. Simon thinks your laugh is absolutely beautiful. His heart warms from the sound, squeezing your waist gently.

Simon is quiet, which isn’t unusual. Even when you’re alone, Simon isn’t a man of too many words. He’s more of an action man, showing and instead of saying. You know this, which is why he doesn’t understand why you’re not getting it. His fingers are gently moving back and forth on the skin of your waist under your shirt, right above the waistline of your pants. His leg is pressed up against yours, and he’s barely said a word tonight.

You laugh once more and say something to someone—something he doesn’t really pay attention to. Not when he indeed absolutely adores your laugh, but he would much rather hear a different, breathier sound leave those lips of yours.

Simon takes a long sip of his drink, licking his lips afterwards. His eyes trail over his team; Kyle, who is sitting on one side of Johnny on the log—Johnny opting to sit in the grass and to lean against the log—with Price on the other side of him. Both Kyle and Johnny are nursing on whatever alcohol Kyle brought whilst Price stayed sober, opting to be the designated driver for tonight's hangout. 

Simon’s cock twitches underneath his jeans as his thoughts slowly turn more filthy. He inhales as his hand slips from your waist down to the curve of your hip, where your ass and thigh starts and gives you a steady squeeze. You shoot Simon a look which he returns; except his is with heavy, lidded eyes that scream ‘fuck me’. You swallow and look away, your heart thumping harder from his gaze. You didn’t expect that at all. You take another sip of your drink to wet your quickly drying throat—but your cunt is certainly soaking your panties.

You feel Simon shift and lean into your ear, his lips just barely brushing against your ear.

“You'd better get rid of everyone in this house or I swear to god I'm gonna fuck you on the first flat surface I can get you to, and I know you don't want anyone to know what you sound like when I'm fucking you.”

You shudder, his words sending a hot drop of thick honey liquid of pure arousal deep into your stomach, right down into your clit.

Yes sir, you mentally reply.

[mistycreativelilacs]

Can you please write a Bruce Wayne imagine where he catches her singing or something cute like that?

Welp… it only took me -checks watch- three years to respond to this, but uh… here’s a 5000 word drabble I guess.

Kitchen Off Limits

About a year into living at Wayne manor you enacted an (ever growing) list of rules. Originally the list only had three rules on it:

1. Sunday is family day. Baring any Gotham destroying/world ending catastrophes everyone is to be in the dinning room no later than 11am for brunch followed by a previously voted on family activity.

2. Family Activity planning occurs on the first Saturday of the month, activities for the whole month will be decided then.*

*Attendance is NOT mandatory, however those who do not participate do not get to complain when we spend 3 Sundays in a row at the zoo.**

**No liberating animals from the zoo.

3. Monday thru Saturday the kitchen belongs to Alfred. Sunday morning’s the kitchen belongs to Mom*.

*That means no one, not even Alfred can enter the kitchen until AFTER brunch**.

**Yes Tim that includes you. You can wait for your morning cup of coffee***.

***ABSOLUTELY NO coffee pots, mini fridges, microwaves, blenders, hot plates, or dry food storage in your bedrooms or you WILL be personally hunting down every rodent and bug that comes crawling into the manor****.

****You can NOT train an army of cats to hunt vermin as a trade off for a mini fridge.

Certain amendments had to be made to the list with each new addition to the household. The final amendment to rule three inspired the creation of its own rule.

243. If you bring a pet into the house, YOU must personally care for it at all times. This includes feeding, grooming, walking, training and cleaning up after them as well as insure they have a proper habitat to live in*.

*Your bedroom is only a proper habitat for regular domestic animals (ie. dogs, cats, fish, small reptiles, small birds, caged rodents such as rats, Guinea pigs or hamsters and snakes, within reason - no large pythons). Large animals whether native to our region or exotic must be housed in a properly built enclosure on the grounds.

Needles to say the Wayne children kept you on your toes. Which brings us to now.

You awoke at the crack of dawn this morning to prep for the day. In a not so shocking twist, Damien had lied, cheated and outright bribed several of his siblings in order to get a zoo trip in this month. The Waynes were such regulars at the zoo (and contributed so much in donations) that they’d named an entire section after the family. The Wayne Reptile House (filled to the brim with several of the reptiles you’d ‘rescued’ from Damien’s room upon Alfred’s discovery of Damien’s unsanctioned renovation of his closet). It was important to you that the children experienced even just a smidge of normalcy amongst all the vigilantism.

You’re staring into the pantry, debating whether to do pancakes or waffles, when an old favourite song comes on the speaker. This was your favourite part of Sunday’s. Once everyone realized how serious you were about the rules, Sunday morning had become your alone time. If the kids were fighting, they handled it amongst themselves. If someone had a question, they went to Bruce or Alfred for answers. Mom was not to be disturbed.

The word Mom still brings a small smile to your face. You’d never really pictured yourself as a mother but when you’d stumbled your way into a romance with THE Bruce Wayne, he’d already gained 2 of your ever growing hoard of children. You’d stumbled your way into motherhood much the way you stumbled into Bruce’s arms.

You begin to softly hum to the song as you decide to just make pancakes and waffles. With a family full of crime fighters more was always the safer option. No one wants a repeat of Tim and Richard’s destructive fight for the last cinnamon bun. You had to spend a fortune redoing the dinning room after, replacing antiques was not cheap, and your heart still hadn’t recovered from the sticker shock. Needless to say the boys were still working off their debt by assisting Alfred in the daily runnings of the manor. As you got lost in the gargantuan undertaking of cooking for the whole Wayne clan, your gentle hums morphed to soft whispers of lyrics.

Just as you were frying the last batch of pancakes the opening chords of your and Bruce’s song came through the speakers. It would be more accurate to state that you’d unilaterally declared it your and Bruce’s song. During your second year of dating you had slowly begun introducing him to the world of romcoms. One particularly chilly fall day that year saw Bruce catching a cold. You took advantage of that to force him into a binge of some of the best and cringiest of your favourites from the 2000’s. Two particular movies seemed to make the notoriously stoic Bruce Wayne emotional. The obvious one being ‘Two Weeks Notice’, but it was the Hugh Grant, Drew Barrymore semi-musical ‘Music & Lyrics’ that would produce the perfect song for your and Bruce’s life together.

As the sounds of Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore came through the speaker you began to sing in earnest.

‘I've been living with a shadow overhead

I've been sleeping with a cloud above my bed

I've been lonely for so long

Trapped in the past, I just can't seem to move on’

Your mind drifted to how you and Bruce met. Recently heartbroken and determined never to let another man hurt you, you’d sworn of men and decided to dedicate all your attention to advancing at work. Your first steps were taking the assignment no one else wanted to touch with a ten foot pole. Being Bruce Wayne’s personal assistant. Those who succeeded at such a gargantuan undertaken seemed to excel through the ranks at Wayne Enterprises, but those who fell short well, you’d heard his last personal assistant had moved back home to small town Kansas and given up the corporate ladder completely.

Your first week had been a cake walk, seeing as Bruce had been away on business meetings in Europe. It’d given you time to get settled in and a system in place. You were determined to be the best personal assistant he’d ever had.

Upon Bruce’s first day back in the office, you’d mustered up all the courage you had and waltz into his office. With barely a good morning you’d launched into a tirade of how things were going to be and that unlike his past assistants you were going to set boundaries. He’d blinked at you slowly, and you were convinced you were about to be fired. His mouth opened and the word okay seemed to unintentionally fall out. You both stood there a moment, seemingly shell shocked at the interaction, before you gathered your wits. With a pivot of your heels you rushed out your own okay before returning to your desk.

Unbeknownst to you Bruce himself had been going through a touch of heartbreak, having had a fall out with his former paramour Selina. His accounts of your first meeting paint you in a much fiercer, more beautiful light. But you’re sure he’s simply remembering the day with rose tinted glasses seeing as you had a poorly concealed coffee stain on your blouse and your hair had definitely begun its escape from the clip you’d rushed it into on the train that morning. Nevertheless he claims it was your fierce determination that stunned him into submission and not his utter exhaustion from sleep deprivation.

‘I’ve been hiding all my hopes and dreams away

Just in case I ever need ‘em again someday

I’ve been setting aside time

To clear a little space in the corners of my mind’

The weeks following your initial meeting were a full of meetings, calls and insuring your boss took proper care of himself. It took exactly three days for you to realize he’d forget to eat, four to realize he seemed to not be sleeping either.

You quietly placed a standing order with the sandwich place down a couple blocks from the building, and then methodically went through Bruce’s calendar and put a two hour meeting blackout everyday around 2pm. You’d also had the couch that sat on the wall just outside his office doors moved into his office proper. The next day you simply waltzed into his office at noon and dropped the sandwich on his desk before returning to your own desk. Two hours later you waltzed in dropping a pillow and blanket on the couch and closed the blinds without a word. As you turned to leave Bruce questioned what you were doing. You simply informed him that you’d place a permanent daily block on meetings between 2pm-4pm and that his office doors would be locked for that period of time as well.

When asked, Bruce will claim that as the day he fell in love with you.

You continued on that way for months, the world seeming to move in a blur around you. Your friends encouraged you to start dating again, but you just weren’t sure you could ever trust a man again. Besides, work was so exhausting most days that you were certain you’d simply pass out at the restaurant if you did go on a date. What a terrible first impression that would make.

It was a seemingly unremarkable Tuesday morning when the world came screaming into focus again.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can’t make it through without a way back into love

Oh’

You’d been tutting about the office while Bruce attended a meeting with Lucius in the lower levels of Wayne Enterprises. You had just started printing off a report for Bruce’s next meeting when your printer ran out of paper. Normally this would be a none issue, except for reasons unknown to you, the night cleaner had developed a habit of putting the box of printer paper on top of the bookcase in the corner. A bookcase that stood nearly three heads taller than you. He’d been doing it for weeks despite your many conversations with him about it. You had tried bringing it up to Bruce, but he just blamed it on the language barrier and claimed it as a non-issue since he could just grab it for you.

It was just your luck that the printer would run out when Bruce was in the midst of a meeting and wouldn’t be back for at least another hour, probably two seeing as his meetings with Lucius always seemed to go over their allotted time slot. You’d been certain the office would have a step ladder hidden around somewhere, but after nearly twenty minutes of searching and being put on hold with maintenance, you’d given up. You could just wait till Bruce returned, but you had only printed half of the first of ten copies of a 40 page report that was required for his next meeting. You’d begun cursing everyone from the night cleaner for his obsession with moving the paper to the head of marketing and research’s assistants for not sending the reports yesterday when you’d requested them. Difficult problems required creative solutions, however the only thing you had that was light enough to drag over to the bookcase while giving you enough height to grab a ream of paper was your office chair. As the head of the companies employee safety committee you knew this was a terrible idea, as Bruce Wayne’s golden assistant the risk of letting your boss down for the first time ever outweighed the risk to your personal safety.

Even with the chair you needed to climb the bookshelf to actually reach the shelf the paper was on. Ream firmly in your grasp you moved to step back into the chair. As your foot touched the chair your hand slipped from the shelf and you felt yourself go backwards. You closed your eyes and braced for impact but it never came. Instead you felt arms wrap around your back and hip, securing you to a firm chest. You opened your eyes coming face to face with Bruce. Had his eyes always been that blue?

“What the hell were you doing.” He was angry, his blue eyes tightening with worry. A warmth flitted through you at the thought that he cared about your safety.

“Grabbing the printer paper.” You gasped out, bending to grab the ream that had fallen to the ground when you’d lost your grip.

“You could have injured yourself if I hadn’t shown up in time.” Bruce was still in your personal space and it was starting to overwhelm you. ‘Had he always been this… large?’ He seemed to tower over you.

“Yes, well I wouldn’t have needed to do all that if the cleaner would stop placing my printer paper up there.” You’d stepped back from Bruce, needing something to keep you from ogling your boss, you began fiddling with the printer.

“You could have waited for me.” He got in your space again, his voice softer now as he took the paper from your shaking hands.

“Do you understand how ridiculous it is to have to wait for the CEO of the company just to load a ream of paper into my printer?” You huffed out, turning back towards him now. The two stood there, chest to chest just staring at each other. You didn’t want to be the one to back down first, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep from blushing while staring into to his eyes.

‘What was with you today? You’d never had a problem going toe to toe with Bruce before. Now suddenly your acting like a horny school girl, daydreaming about climbing this man like-

“Fine.” Bruce stalked off to his office, an indiscernible glower on his face, leaving you to ponder what the hell had just happened. And why you seemingly out of nowhere had very inappropriate thoughts about your boss.

That night marked the first of many failed blind dates, agreed to only after having decided that it was your lack of a love life that had you daydreaming about your boss.

The next morning the box of paper was on the bottom shelf of the bookcase.

‘I’ve been watching but the stars refuse to shine

I’ve been searching but I just don’t see the signs

I know that it’s out there

There’s gotta be something for my soul somewhere’

Things between you and Bruce changed after that day. You’d never realized how comfortable you two had become with one another until you suddenly weren’t. You’d taken to communicating with him almost exclusively through emails and his calendar due to how awkward everything had become. He’d try to ask you about your life and you’d just clam up, not wanting to tell the object of your recurring lusty dreams about your string of failed dates. Failed because after less than two minutes you’d start comparing all of them to Bruce. The whole thing was getting so out of hand, you’d started seriously contemplating putting in for a transfer.

You’d been so lost in thought it took Bruce loudly clearing his throat for you to notice him standing in front of your desk.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” You’d resolved that complete professionalism was the only sure way to put everything back to normal. Or at least it will hopefully allow you to cling to some semblance of normal until you stop chickening out and put in for reassignment.

“I was wondering,” he seemed nervous, fidgeting with the snow globe I kept on the edge of my desk. “Do you have a date to the Christmas Gala?” Oh. He’s not? Is he? He couldn’t possibly-“I was just thinking if you didn’t have one, we could go together.” He was- “just as friends. We are friends aren’t we?” n’t.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne I suppose I’ve come to regard you as a” the word friend seemed to catch in your throat “friend over these last few months. But, to be quite honest with you, I wasn’t planning on attending the Christmas Gala.”

“You have too. In fact, I’m making it a mandatory requirement of your job that you have to be there. I’ll pick you up at 7pm.” He didn’t even give you time to respond before waltzing back into his office. It took all of 30 seconds for you to follow after him.

“You cannot force me to go to the gala Mr.Wayne.” You’d stopped in front of his desk, arms crossed over your chest.

“Why not?” He leaned back in his chair, smug smile glued to his face.

“Because I’m a human being with free will and, according to the Wayne Enterprises Employee Handbook, attempting to force me to attend would constitute harassment.” The smile slowly dropped from his face as he rose from his chair.

“If you truly don’t want to attend, I won’t push the matter.” He took slow, deliberate steps towards you, halting just far enough to be considered proper, but still close enough for you to catch the scent of his cologne. “However, it’d mean a lot to me if you did attend.” You’d been so distracted by his eyes and the seemingly sincere look on his face that you hadn’t even noticed he’d reached for your hand. You stood there utterly unmoored by the events of the past few minutes. You mentally shook your self out and opened your mouth to once again decline his invitation.

“Okay.” You were stunned with utter disbelief at the disconnect between your brain and your mouth. Bruce smirked.

“Perfect, like I said early I’ll pick you up around 7pm. If we’re going together, I really should match my tie to your dress. What colour is it going to be?” He’d started heading back to his desk.

“Mint.” You mumbled out. If you were going to be photographed on Bruce Waynes arm, even as just a friend, there was only one dress in your wardrobe that was even close to passable. Turns out you would get a second wear out of the bridesmaids dress from your sister’s wedding.

‘I’ve been looking for someone to shed some light

Not somebody just to get me through the night

I could use some direction

And I’m open to your suggestions’

The Christmas Gala was a disaster. The gala itself was wonderful, decorated to the nines, wonderful little hors d’oeuvres being passed around on trays that looked suspiciously like real silver. You however were a disaster. After entering the gala on Bruces arm, to the flash of what seemed like a million cameras, you’d been immediately pulled away to solve a crisis for the marketing assistants. The crisis turned out to be nothing more than a minor tear in her dress. One strategically placed safety pin later and you found yourself in the midst of the gala uncertain where Bruce had wandered off too.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing standing alone?” Oliver Queen. You’d had several run ins with him whilst working for Bruce.

“Oliver, not that it’s any of your business but I’m looking for Bruce.” You didn’t even bother glancing at him, lest you encourage his flirtations. “You haven’t seen him recently, have you?”

“Does Brucie really have you working on Christmas? He truly has no shame. If you were working for me-“ You cut him off before he could descend into what was sure to be a thinly veiled innuendo.

“We’ve talked about this Oliver. I’m not interested in you, professionally or personally.” You levelled your iciest look at him.

“Sheesh, can’t even give a guy a shot in the spirit of Christmas?” You harden your glare. “Fine, fine. I can take a hint sometimes.” He raised his hands in surrender before placing them on your shoulders turning you in a full 180. “Your beloved Brucie is right there, and it seems he’s decided to use the spirit of the season to rekindle an old flame.” You were met with the sight of Bruce and Selina Kyle in an arch way locked in a kiss.

“Oh.” Logically you knew you had no right to be upset. Bruce had made it abundantly clear the two of you were just friends. But if that were true, why did this feel so much worse than any breakup you’d gone through in your near 25 years of life. “Excuse me, I need to- I should check- I…” You left Oliver standing there as you rushed from the ballroom.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can’t make it through without a way back into love

And if I open my heart again

I guess I’m hoping you’ll be there for me in the end’

You wrote your two week notice on the train ride back to your apartment. You were sure you looked quite the sight, shivering in your evening dress, makeup running down your face from the tears you couldn’t hold back. It took an hour longer than normal to reach your corner of Gotham, it gave you time to compartmentalize. Due to the Holidays you’d only have to work out one week of your two weeks notice, but that was still one week of having to see the man who had unintentionally shattered your heart. The worst part is you couldn’t even be mad at him. He’d done nothing to lead you on or imply that you were anything more than friends. You’d simply allowed your imagination to get the better of you and now here you were crying because you’d broken your own heart. You were so lost in your own heartbreak you failed to notice the man standing outside your apartment building until you literally walked into him.

“I’m so sor-“ you began to tumble out an apology as you lifted your eyes to the face of the torso you’d just slammed into, only to be met with achingly familiar blue eyes. “Bruce?”

“You left.” He looked upset, almost as if he were the one heartbroken. “You didn’t even say goo- Have you been crying?” His hand lifts to your face, thumb trailing under your eye. You have to repress a shudder at the feeling of his warm hand on your cold cheek. “Was it Queen? Did he say something again? I’ll have him bared from the building.” You step out of Bruce’s embrace.

“No, it wasn’t Oliver Mr.Wayne.” Professionalism, detachment, that was the only way you were going to get through this final encounter with the man you’d come to love. “It was a personal matter and it’s been handled. But since you’re here I might as well do this face to face. I’m resigning from my position as your personal assistant effective immediately. I’ve already emailed HR and-“

“No.”

“No? This isn’t a yes or no, situation Mr. Wayne. I’m not asking your permission, I’m telling you. I quit.” You’re astonished at the level of strength in your own voice.

“No, you don’t. And while we’re at it you’ll stop with this Mr.Wayne nonsense and go back to calling me Bruce.” He’s agitated now, angry at you.

“Mr. Wayne once again it’s not up to you. I’ve already sent my notice to HR, and accepted a new position elsewhere.” A small lie, but a seemingly necessary one seeing how hard of a time Bruce seems to be having with grasping the concept of your departure from his life.

“Then I’ll buy this new company you work for.” He’s invaded your personal bubble once more.

“Mr. Wayne you can’t just buy a corporation to stop me from quitting.”

“Bruce, and yes I can. I’m a billionaire if you’ve forgotten.” You’re nearly chest to chest at this point. “If this personal matter is the reason you’re quitting, then let me help. I’m sure with your brains and my money we can figure out a solut-“

“I’m in love with you, you idiot.” You push at his chest, anger fuelling your every movement now. “I’m in love with you and I didn’t relish the thought of having to sit in that office day after day watching you moon over Seli-“ He’s kissing you. Bruce Wayne is kissing you. Your to stunned to do anything other than let him.

‘There are moments when I don’t know if it’s real

Or if anybody feels the way I feel

I need inspiration

Not just another negotiation’

When he’d finally pulled away, self satisfied look on his face, you began to berate him. It was his turn to be stunned into silence while you cursed him out in the middle of the street (unbeknownst to either of you, one of the teens from your apartment block filmed the whole thing. It went viral by morning and Wayne Enterprises PR team had to work overtime to spin it in the companies favour). It would take the better part of a week for him to convince you that what’d you seen was Selina’s last ditch attempt at winning him back. It’d taken him another two months of failed wooing attempts to finally get you to agree to be his girlfriend.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can't make it through without a way back into love

And if I open my heart to you

I'm hoping you'll show me what to do

And if you help me to start again

You know that I'll be there for you in the end’

The song fades out and your left standing in the middle of your kitchen lost in thought when a gentle chuckle penetrates your subconscious. You whirl around to find Bruce leaned against the entryway, smile lighting up his face.

“How long have you been standing there?” You could feel a blush beginning to bloom across your cheeks.

“Does it matter?” He advances on you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Yes, I need to gauge how embarrassed I should be.” You sink into his embrace, wrapping your own arms around his neck. He bends down and plants a gentle kiss on your lips.

“What were you thinking so intently about?” He gently sweeps an errant strand of hair behind your ear. It was your turn to plant a distracting kiss on Bruce’s lips, the last thing you needed was to inflate his ego. “Ah, so you were thinking about me.” He smirks when you break for air.

“I was not.” Your blush deepens, as if thinking about your husband was the most scandalous thing in the world.

“Mom’s always thinking about you. It’s kinda gross actually.” Jason sat atop your counter eating a cinnamon bun. “What do you even see in the old man anyway? You’re young, attractive and funny. You could do a lot better than Bruce.”

“Off my counter.” You pulled out of Bruce’s embrace to admonish your son. “And put that down, those are for brunch.” You swat his hand away from the fruit tray. He hops off the counter planting a kiss to your check, as he grabs the fruit tray and starts carrying it to the table in the adjacent dinning room.

“It is brunch though mother.” You startle a bit at the sound of Damians voice coming from beside you, nearly 15 years in and you still got startled by the way they all seemed to move in utter silence popping up from seemingly nowhere. At 5’4” your youngest was nearly eye to eye with you, a few more years and he’d tower over you like his brothers.

“Did you all collectively wake up and decided today was the day to disregard all of mom’s rules?” You move to turn off the speaker, mourning your few hours of peace and beginning to mentally prep for the chaos of having all 7 of the Wayne children in one dinning room. “Tim you better be putting that coffee into a cup.” You had a sixth sense for Tim’s caffeine habit and, unbeknownst to him, had been taking steps to curb it. Your most recent ingenious plan was slowly mixing decaf into the regular coffee. Your current batch of grounds was 60% decaf and only 40% caffeinated.

“Of course mom. I wouldn’t dream of breaking your rules.”

“Bullshit.” You whisper under your breath. “Aren’t you all currently breaking rule number 3?” The boys had the decency to at least feigen sheepishness.

“But it is brunch.” Duke, Stephanie and Cas shuffle into the kitchen together.

“Technically the wording of the rule does state that we’re not supposed to enter the kitchen until after brunch, which is why I entered the dining room through the hallway.” Richard leaned his head through the entryway between the two rooms.

“We get it, your mom’s favourite little suck up.” Jason slaps the back of Richards head on his way back into the kitchen. He loads his arms with various platters from the counter before turning back to his siblings. “Well come on half-wits, if you’re gonna break mom’s rules might as well make ourselves useful.”

“Jason, don’t hit your brother.” Your admonishment is half hearted at best, knowing full well your second eldest was likely to simply pretend to listen, while waiting till you turned your back to strike his older brother once again. “And Richard don’t even think about retaliating while he’s holding those platters.” You lean against the back counter running a hand through your hair, releasing it from its haphazard bun. You watch the other kids with the eyes of a well seasoned mother, fear for your antique dish-ware seizing you. You really should just invest in plastic dish-ware at this point, or perhaps you can commission Lucius to develop a line of indestructible dish-ware. There has to be a market for that, right?

Bruce comes to stand beside you, placing a mug of tea in your hands. You lean your head against his shoulder, a content sigh leaving your lips.

“No regrets?” He asks, as the sound of a squabble erupt from the dinning room.

“Not a one.” You smile. No, you wouldn’t trade this for anything. CRASH Okay, maybe you’d trade out whichever child just broke- CRASH - TWO plates. “Boys what did I just say about fighting with my antiques in your hands!”

[ilyrafe]

𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: ex!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: angst, physical injuries, blood (it's brief), objetification of reader (not by rafe).

word count: 1,1k

the vibrating sound of your phone on the bedside table startles you a bit. even with your vision blurry, you manage to read rafe’s name shining on the screen. it’s late, the clock marks fifteen past two, and getting a call from him at this time is worrying, but fighting the fatigue, you answer his call.

“hello?”

“it’s me. you home?” his tone is urgent, which worries you even more. he’s definitely in trouble.

“why?”

“are you home or not?”

“yes, rafe. why are you calling me?”

“i’m at your door and i need your help right now.”

he hangs up abruptly and you sigh, anticipating yet another stressful interaction with rafe. it’s in situations like these that you wonder why you gave him the time of the day for almost a whole year of your life.

rafe is trouble, and you want none of it.

you quickly get up and head to the entrance of your small house. small, but yours. all the furniture, even if it is second-hand, is yours, as it was bought with your money, earned with a lot of sweat, something rafe will never understand.

as soon as you open the door, you come across a bruised and bloody rafe, which scares you. before you can say anything, he enters your house and sits on the tiny couch.

the scene is deplorable.

“rafe! what- what the hell happened to you?!”

“been in a fight, alright? i just can’t come back home looking like this.”

“in a fight with who?”

“i doesn’t matter. just help me.”

you sigh, tired and irritated. rafe is difficult to deal with. he beats the others out of tiredness and that is irritating. you go to the bathroom and grab a small bag with first aid items, and return to the living room right away, sitting next to him on the couch.

he winces when you pat the cotton ball on his bruises, but you don’t feel bad at all. this is what he deserves. you avoid looking him in the eye while you’re cleaning his face up. you know you can’t resist his baby blues.

you take his hands in yours. the contrast of size is beautiful, somehow. his huge, calloused hands with golden rings have always been attractive. his knuckles are red and quite swollen. you clean his hands up and only hear rafe’s huffs when he feels the sting of the rubbing alcohol. you might be doing that on purpose.

very quickly, you put some bandaids where you find necessary and bandage his hand up, where it’s swollen.

“all done.”

“thank you.”

oh, he knows the magic words. you know you’ll regret it, but you have to ask.

“what happened, rafe?”

he sighs and leans back, taking a deep, exhaustive breath.

“it doesn’t matter, y/n. it’s solved, it’s done.”

“you woke me up in the middle of the night, came over unannounced and made me patch you up. i deserve to know what the fuck happened and if i’m in trouble.”

“you’re not in trouble.” he clarifies, as he passes his fingers over the gauze on his hand. “one of barry’s friends said some weird shit about you.”

“who said what?” you frown.

you never really liked barry, let alone his “friends”. they’re beyond shady and you hate how rafe keeps them in his life.

“you don’t want to know.” you cock an eyebrow and rafe sighs once again, defeated. “babe, it’s inappropriate, don’t make me repeat it.”

babe. you forgot how much you loved when rafe called you sweet nicknames. yes, rafe is an overall asshole, but he isn’t all bad, you have to admit it. the thing is that he actively lets his bad side take over, and you can’t handle that.

“say it.”

“it was bryan. he, um… he said he… um…”

“say it, rafe.”

“he said he hoped to be the next in line to be inside your c-”

“okay, i get it.” you feel like crying and throwing up, but you maintain your composure. “he said that because he wanted to get to you, rafe, that’s all. i’ve never even spoken to him.”

you don’t know why you’re explaining yourself to rafe, but you feel like you have to. for some reason, you don’t want him to think you’re a slut that fucks every guy. deep down, you want rafe to realize he lost something really great, but that day may never come.

“i know, i’m not worried about that.” he says. “i just don’t want him near you.”

“rafe-”

“i know we’re not together anymore, and i swear i’m not being controlling, but bryan is bad and i don’t want him near you, ever. okay?”

“okay.”

after your response, rafe seems to relax a bit. he closes his eyes and his smug makes a comeback.

“you should’ve seen his face. what a bitch.”

you roll your eyes and chuckle.

“thank you for defending me, but really, let them talk. they just want to get to you.”

“now they know what happens when they speak of you.”

there’s a brief moment of silence between you both; it’s comfortable.

rafe seems tired, and you really don’t want him to leave, but you know it’s not going to end well if he stays over.

it’s been over four months since the definitive breakup and you’ve tried to go no contact with rafe, but it’s hard because you live in the same place, you have the same friends and rafe never wanted to stop talking to you.

“i still feel like i need to protect you,” he says, breaking the silence.

you lay next to him, your faces being so close, your noses are almost touching. this is dangerous territory, but you don’t care at this point. you touch his cheek so softly, he closes his eyes again.

he leans in, trying to get to your lips, and they touch briefly, before you lean back, effectively rejecting his kiss.

“i think you should go.”

rafe stares at you, clearly hurt. he gets up from your couch and leaves.

if you could, you would do everything necessary to make this relationship work, but that means changing rafe completely, and you don’t know if you’re in love with rafe, or are resigned to the crumbs of kindness he gives you.

no relationship should survive on small moments of love, and you’re no longer satisfied by the thrill of having a good moment with rafe.

when you broke up with him, he begged you for another chance, but you had already given him a thousand chances. you’ve played this game before and you ended up hurt and slightly traumatized.

you can’t change rafe and he doesn’t want to help himself, so there’s nothing left for you to do.

i love feedback, tell me your thoughts! <3

[ickeoresteia]

yeah I’m so normal about Iphigeneia. what do you mean?

[magics-neptunes-things]

Collide (2)

Hello everyone!

Here is the rest of Collide, you can find the first part here, I obviously advise you to read it if you come across this part first… Otherwise you will surely not understand much!

A big thank you for your support, this story is longer and more thoughtful than the ones I have written so far, so it takes me much more time.

I really hope that all of you are having or will have a wonderfull Christmas. Take care of yourself and your loved ones ❤️

I hope you'll enjoy this part :)

TW : Alcohol, Angst and I think it’s ok like that!

World : 5.4K

PART 1 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6 | PART 7

______________________________________________________________

Time has gone by nicely since you arrived in London and your integration into the Arsenal team is no longer in doubt. You get along well with everyone, you participate willingly in the parties organized by your teammates and you even managed to make yourself appreciated quickly by the fans. Which is not a difficult thing as long as you play well. And without wanting to throw yourself flowers or play the presumptuous, you are more than satisfied with your performance on the field right now.

Alessia has become a very close friend and the fact that she’s your neighbor probably helps a lot too. You often go to the training ground together and it happens regularly that one finishes at the other apartment in the evening. You have become a bit of an essential element of each other’s apartment decor. You are also close to Manuela, your goalkeeper, and Viv makes you die laughing. You also enjoy spending time with Lia, even if she is very close to Leah who continues to torment your thoughts. Katie and Caitlin are great mates too.

After some time of tension between Leah and you following your defection during your kiss, you managed to find a cordial relationship. You can’t help but look at her when she doesn’t see you, you still feel very attracted to her. And it’s not just about physics, you find her funny, interesting and you have the impression that your souls are made to get along. But you’ve never been alone with her since the party. And you feel like it suits Leah like that.

You were getting ready for practice when your phone rings, somewhere in your apartment. After a few long seconds of research, you end up finding it under a cushion of your sofa and answers without taking the time to look who may try to contact you.

"Y/N, hi!" makes a joyful voice.

"Wally, what’s going on?" you ask, sitting on your couch.

You hear from the noise around her that she’s definitely driving somewhere noisy.

"I had to pick up Leah to take her to practice but I’m stuck in traffic and I don’t think I’ll be on time myself. Could you go get her, please?"

No? Out of question to find myself with my crush in the same space clot for twenty minutes without interruption miss Wälti, I am not sure to survive. Have you see this girl? The way her face light up when she smile make me want to...

"Oh, yes, of course" you answer, pinching your nose. "You’re telling her I’m coming?"

"Yeah, yeah, no worries. Thank you very much Y/N, see you later."

"Drive carefully. See you"

Your voice is just a mumble at the end of your sentence and you hang up before Lia has time to say something else. You always go early when you drive alone like today, Alessia having an appointment before training. You have plenty of time to get Leah, but you’re still very worried.

So you nervously take the wheel, driving to the blonde's house where you’ve already been to for one of your evenings. Before the kiss. When you park in front of her house, you take a few seconds to take a big breath before getting out of the car.

You press the doorbell a first time before sliding your hands in the pockets of your sweatshirt and you press a second time after a few minutes, when you realize that no one comes to open. You know Leah lives alone so maybe she just didn’t hear the doorbell the first time.

But your ear is drawn to a piano melody that makes you frown. Since when has Leah been playing the piano? You don’t have time to question yourself any longer, though, since your captain’s voice ends up in your ears.

"Come on in Wally, it’s open!" Leah screams

Ouch. So either she didn’t get Lia’s messages, or Lia just forgot to warn her. Whatever it is, you’re hoping Leah won’t take your presence at her place badly. You end up slowly entering inside, carefully closing the door behind you. Leah’s home is different in the daylight and you mechanically follow the melody of the piano that resounds in the house.

You end up finding Leah in a room that probably serves as her office, actually installed behind a piano. This woman is full of surprises. You don’t dare interrupt her, so you cross your arms and lean on the door frame until she’s done. You recognize a song by Shania Twain, but you can't remember the title of it.

When she’s done, Leah turns in your direction with a satisfied little smile. That quickly turns into a surprised frown when she sees you there. "Hi" you say before clearing your throat. "Lia is stuck somewhere in London with her car and asked if I could pick you up. She was supposed to warn you. Sorry, I guess she forgot to" "Oh, okay" Leah replies, getting up "It’s been a while since I looked at my phone, I may not have seen her message" You nod thoughtfully, tightening your arms around yourself mechanically while waiting for Leah to check her phone. You see a new smile lightening her face and you imagine that it is by seeing the message of the Swiss woman. You’re kind of jealous about the ease of their relationship, to have a friendship as strong as they both have... No, actually, it’s not a friendship you’d like to have with Leah. But you have to stay wise. Anyway, you doubt it’s what the blonde wants on her side. She’s not one to be in a long relationship. "Shall we go?" Leah’s voice cuts you off in your thoughts and you simply nod, taking off against the wood you were always leaning on. You pick up Leah’s bag mechanically as you pass the front door, which seems to both surprise and amuse her. "I can carry my bag, you know?" "Oh... I just thought with your leg... sorry" Leah does not answer, content to laugh gently closing the door of her home with a key. You mask your red cheeks by storing her bag in the trunk of your car and you hope to have found a casual face when you sit next to her. "I didn’t know you played the piano" you say after a few minutes of silence. Leah looks at you briefly and you feel like she’s holding back from saying "There’s a lot you don’t know about me," which is probably true. "I started it during the lockdown. I’m not really good, but I like it."

"What I heard was very good" you countered, looking at it in the corner of your eyes.

"Well thanks" Leah laughs and you feel your belly make a somersault "But I’ve been repeating this song for a long time. I have no right to tell you why for the moment"

"It’s a piece by Shania Twain, isn’t it?"

"Yes. You’re still the one"

This time, you see her turning in your direction to be able to better observe you. Is it done voluntarily or not, you do not know. What you do know is that you’re happy to have started a conversation that allows you to exchange without having disturbing silence in the car.

"Do you like country music?" asks the blonde

"Not really. All I know about country is that Miley Cyrus has a father who does. Does it count?" you ask with a laugh.

"I could hit you right now"

Leah has a smile when she says that, and it makes you laugh again. A new silence comes between you, but this one is nice. You are finally relaxed with each other since your party and you feel you can breathe more easily.

"We’re going to a Luke Combs concert next weekend. You could come with us, it would open you up to the country world?"

You bite your lip thoughtfully. You know many of them are going. Leah, Lia, Alessia, and so on.

"Less offered it to me a few days ago but I refused saying that I didn’t like to go to concerts if I could not sing the lyrics" you admit thoughtfully.

Your gaze clinging to the dense traffic in London doesn’t allow you to see the disappointment read for a few seconds on Leah’s face.

"I guess I’ll have to revise quickly"

To be honest, what also made you turn down that offer was not to make Leah’s evening unpleasant. You quickly understood how she can’t stand being away from others on the field and how these shared moments with your teammates are important to her. But that she still wants you to come also makes you exceedingly happy.

During the rest of the trip, Leah asks you about your own musical preferences and you tell her that you got stuck with the old rock and pop-rock bands you used to listen to when you were a teenager. A little Norwegian variety also thanks to your parents, whom she has never heard of but that doesn’t surprise you particularly.

********

"Looks good, your integration into Arsenal" Leila’s voice says from your phone as you cook yourself something for dinner.

"Frankly, I have nothing to complain about. They are all adorable" you answer sincerely.

"Adorable is not a term I would use for Katie McCabe"

You laugh softly and shake your head. You know perfectly well the reputation that Katie has outside the field, you have heard about it since your arrival in the English champion.

"She’s like a bulldozer on the ground, but outside she’s really nice. A hell of a character maybe, but I’ve never seen someone as loyal as her"

"Look at her, completely on the enemy’s side"

Leila laughs and you smile, rolling your eyes. Sometimes keeping friendships isn’t easy when you’re away or playing on opposing teams, but you’re glad to see that you seem to be keeping your bond with Leila for now. You obviously hope it lasts.

Two shots are taking at your front door before Alessia comes inside to drop on your couch. It’s become such a habit between you that you don’t even react to her presence.

"How was the concert?" asks Leila.

"It was good, sincerely. It’s not the music I used to listen to, but I liked it."

That’s the truth. You honestly didn’t expect to have such a great time. The good relationship between Arsenal players also exists outside the field and this spirit makes you feel like part of a family. From someone so far from yours like you, it’s more than pleasant. And that night you spent gave you an opportunity to spend some time with Leah too. Like a child who tests his own limits, you try to determine where the line is that you must not exceed. As if she were reading your thoughts, Leila resumes speaking as you mix what you cook in your pan. "What about Williamson?" "What about Leah?" You ask, taking a quick look at Alessia to see if she’s listening to what you’re saying. "Huh? Since you kissed, is..." You don’t hear the end of the sentence, jumping on your phone to cut the microphone. But it’s too late and you see Alessia’s face turning into a surprise. The amazement, rather. "I call you back Lei" you mumble to your friend before hanging up. "You kissed Leah?" Wide-eyed, Alessia has made her way to you. A big smile appeared on his face, but you startled when you heard him scream half. "Shh!" you tell her, as if you were afraid someone else would listen to you. "Why didn’t you tell me? When was that?" Alessia put her two hands on your shoulders and she shakes you gently, apparently more than willing to have answers to her questions. "At my moving-in party" you end up sighing. "And she kissed me." Well, you didn’t reject it to be honest. Well, at the beginning anyway. The rest, no need to remind. "Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your place?" laughs Alessia. "Why does it look like you killed someone when you talk about it?" "Because nothing has happened since then, we are probably not looking for the same thing. Not many people know, Lessi, you have to keep it to yourself please"

"Of course I will. But maybe Lia knows too, Leah say her everything."

"Maybe" you shrug.

"But still. You kissed Leah Williamson"

********

The break for international competitions arrive at à great time. You were able to see your family again, especially your parents and seeing your friends from the national team also make you happy. Your reunion with Ingrid was filmed and posted on social media, your embrace being visible to everyone. You don’t know what makes people not think there’s something going on between you, but you’re grateful that it’s going on like this. You like Ingrid as a friend and you don’t want to have to think about how to behave with her so you don’t hurt her girlfriend.

The results of your national team didn’t live up to your expectations however, despite the goals you were able to score. The disappointment must have been visible in the message that you tried to shoot positively on Instagram. You got some messages of encouragement from your friends, from Arsenal or not. You also received a message from Leah, the first one she addresses you directly on a Whatsapp band.

If you were sad to have to say goodbye to your best friend again, finding your Arsenal teammates is a pleasure. This feeling of being at home warms your heart.

"Hi Frozen" tease Katie at you when you see her for the first time, making you roll your eyes with fun.

This time again, the hug that you exchange with Leah lasts a little longer than the others and you smile at her when she pinches you affectionately the cheek. Maybe you missed her too much.

In the next game, against Aston Villa, you feel like Leah’s mind is somewhere else, but yours too. This is the first time in a long time that you will find yourself facing your ex and you know that Leah will also have to live with the fact that Jordan will be around.

Even though the blonde is still not playing, Leah participates in the briefings and is always around when you play at home.

No wonder, her love for the team and the club is now known to everyone. You haven’t been thinking particularly about Alina lately, Leah taking a lot of time in your thoughts. But you have to admit that to see her again, even from the back, training with her teammates, it does you something. You no longer have the slightest feeling of love for her, of course. Everything magically disappeared the day you learned about her infidelities. But you still have trouble swallowing betrayal.

"Are you okay here?"

You recognize Leah’s voice easily, but the hand on your shoulder makes you jump. Crossing her eyes, you quickly understand that she understood and you just shrug your shoulders.

"Yeah, I know. Come on, let’s go."

Leah’s hand slips on your back as she takes you to the small group forming by Alessia, Katie and Kyra. You find yourself regretting the feeling of her hand in your back when Alessia puts her arm around your shoulders in a comforting embrace. You nevertheless let yourself go against her, looking over Leah’s shoulder. From a distance, you have the impression that Jordan Nobbs was looking in your direction.

The game was hard, Aston Villa scored first and your team have trouble to find the back of the net. It last almost until the end of the game, until you caught Leah’s eye in the bleachers. From there to say that it’s her who gave you the impulse to go and score the goal, there is a world. But still, it’s only a few seconds later that you score. And a few minutes later, Alessia scored the winning goal, allowing Arsenal to win the match.

It’s probably cruel for the other team, but honestly you don’t care. You don’t get asked to show your joy, celebrating with Wally, Kyra and Alessia. You watch while a smiling Leah jumping into Alessia’s arms just before Katie comes to offer you a hug in her own way, passing an arm around your neck while strocking your hair with the other hand.

"Manu’s organising a party for tonight, are you coming?" says you a happy Katie.

When she gets your positive answer she releases you, literally pounding up to Caitlin. It’s by following her with your eyes that your eyes cling to a silhouette that you know very well despite yourself. Alina, standing in the middle of the field with her hands on her hips, looking disgusted. As you said, seen from the other side, the defeat must be bitter.

When she looks at you too, you hurry to turn your heels, only to rush straight into Jordan Nobbs.

"Oh… sorry mate" you mumble by rushing to run away.

You are relieved to see that the person who pulls you by the arm right after is Alessia, carrying you away from this situation. An amused smile is visible on her face, and you feel that she restrains herself from saying something.

"Don’t"

Alessia laughs and can only smile when hearing it, gently shaking your head. The fans in front of which Alessia trains you claiming photos and autographs, that make you forget easily what has just happened.

********

A few hours later, you’re in a nightclub with almost the entire team. Although we have to admit that everyone was a little scattered throughout the nightclub. Maybe you drank too much, too. Leah is here, of course. When she came to sit next to you with her big smile and her sexy outfit, you almost fainted. You feel like she’s doing it on purpose. But it’s nothing compared to the wave of chills that runs through you when she looks at you to say "Pretty goal, superstar". The ambient music forces her to have this behavior, but still.

It’s not the ambient music that will make her invite you to dance with her. If you refused at first, claiming not to know how to dance, you couldn’t resist her any longer. And you also noticed that others girls don’t seem against keeping Leah company. Of course, you have absolutely no right to be jealous, but that definitely tilts the scales.

You’ve been dancing with Leah for a long time now, to be honest, you’ve completely lost track of time. Your teammates are far too drunk around you to pay attention to you and none seem to have realized how your body seems unable to detach from Leah’s. Your body is attracted with the strength of a magnet by hers and as long as you had your back against her, you managed to fight against yourself and keep an almost clear mind. But when the last song changed, you stupidly turned around and you were hypnotized by the captain’s gaze. Your heart rate is faster, your breathing is more complicated and you have to fight with all your strength not to lean in her direction a few centimeters more to be able to kiss her. Her hands on your hip and in the hollow of your back hold you all against her and the arms you tied around her neck may not help either. It’s as if your mind and your body wanted two things and you were pulled from two sides at the same time. You’ve obviously noticed Leah’s eyes slipping regularly on your lips, seemingly wishing nothing but to kiss you. The message is very clear, it would be for anyone. But when Leah tries an approach and touches your lips with hers, you step back. You obviously realized that Leah didn’t even look at a girl other than you tonight, but the fear of getting screwed again is stronger than the rest. You only stepped back a few inches so you could look into Leah’s. If you haven't saw Alina today, maybe you would have kiss her. You certainly read a part of disappointment, perhaps even a little rejection, but also uncertainty. Does she think that she misinterpreted the signals you send her? That is not the case, of course. You are undeniably attracted to her, you don't want to lie to her either. Or worse, let her start thinking that you’re the one playing with her feelings.

"I’m sorry. I don’t want to be an extra number on your hunting board, Leah."

By your position, you feel Leah’s breath against your lips and it makes you half crazy. When you gently detach you from her, she lets you. You can see her jaw is tight, but you don’t feel like it’s anger. You can’t take the time to figure out what it is, before you decide to get out of there. You pick up your jacket and bag and go out, even unintentionally bumping into someone who hasn’t asked for anything on your way.

"Are you alright?"

A voice next to you makes you jump and you raise your eyes on a couple that was probably out smoking. The girl looks at you with special attention and you realize at this moment that your hands are shaking.

"Yes, yes, it’s okay" you mumble taking a deep breath.

"Sure?"

You nod again, both surprised and touched by so much soliscitude. Maybe there is still some hope in the human being?

"Do you know where I can get a cab?"

The one you imagine being her boyfriend points at you the end of the street. You thank and greet them, walking quickly going in the right direction. It only take you twenty minutes to return home, your mind haunted by the image of Leah, the sensations felt when your face was only a few inches from you. Regrets mix with relief and you still don’t know if you made the right decision.

You don’t even take the time to remove your makeup before hiding under your duvet. You want to call Leah, but this is the second time you’ve pushed her away in a short time. You will never dare to return to the training ground without having a terrible fear of running into her. You were wondering if you are going to contact your agent to ask him to propose you for a loan with another team when you hear someone knocking on the door of your apartment. "Y/N?" It’s Alessia’s voice and you realize no one saw you leave, except maybe Leah. You hiss when you feel the cold ground under your bare feet when you answer, finding yourself facing an Alessia who seems both relieved and annoyed. Her phone in hand, she seems to finish reading a message when she reports her attention to you. "Why didn’t you say you were going home?" Her tone is accusing and you pout, feeling like you’re being scolded by your older sister. But you can understand the worry. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you." Alessia still looks at you for a few seconds while squinting before sighing and slipping into your apartment. She hugs you before she lets you go. "You and Leah were missing, we were worried" she explains before going for a glass of water. "Leah too?" In spite of yourself, you feel the anxiety rise suddenly. If something happened to her because of your behavior, you will never forgive yourself. Worry is easily detectable in your voice, as Less hurries to comfort you. "Yes, but she’s home. Lia found her there. What happened?" "What do you mean?" You mumble looking at your feet. "Well you both disappear, you’re closer than you’ve ever been... But you don’t have the face of someone who had a nice evening"

"I screwed up" you sigh softly as you cross your arms on your chest.

Your gaze is always fixed on your feet and you frown, trying to remember the meaning of your memories and thoughts. Alessia knows what happened with Alina, the deception and everything, it’s not for nothing that she remained close to you physically speaking today. In the field, at least.

Alessia doesn’t answer anything, waiting patiently to see if you want to continue to explain yourself or not.

'I panicked. There’s this kind of attraction I’ve had for her from the beginning and the more I try to fight it, the bigger it gets. It’s like every thing she did or said is what I expect her to do, without me even knowing it."

You looked up at the blonde this time and she watches you talking, holding her half-empty glass of water in her hand. Her eyebrows are ruffled, but she looks more pensive than upset this time.

"We managed to catch up with the bond we had after I pushed her back. But tonight… I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about what happened with Alina all day and… I panicked. I don’t want to be heartbroken again."

This time it’s a compassionate smile that appears on Alessia’s face, which is content to extend your arms as the very first answer. You accepted and snuggled up against her, sighing softly. She didn’t steal her nickname of Lessi Bear.

"I think you should talk to Leah" Alessia says after a few seconds.

"I doubt she’ll want to talk to me again"

********

You were right. You don’t know if it’s voluntary or not on Leah’s part, but you haven’t seen her since the nightclub. She seems to have changed her physiotherapy and training schedules so she won’t run into you again. And you have to admit that it hurt your heart. But again this reaction is probably very selfish, if you are both there it is only your fault.

Your mood has deteriorated throught the days when you feel someone sitting next to you in the locker room. You look up expecting to find yourself in front of Caitlin who has her locker next to yours, but instead it’s Lia who addresses you one of her famous smiles.

"Are you okay?" she asks and you ask yourself in the first place if she’s not making fun of you.

But it would mean not knowing Lia at all.

"Good. What about you?"

Lia nods, still armed with her smile, while you finish putting on your sneakers. The training session has just ended, you are showered and changed and ready to go home.

"I was wondering if we could talk together?"

"Of course."

You get up and follow her, wondering what it is. Lia trains you with her in the cafeteria of the team, currently completely deserted. After having caught yourself drinking and sitting at a table, you look at her with an undisguised curiosity. If you really like the Swiss woman, you’ve never really exchanged one-on-one.

"Is everything okay?" You can’t help but ask her, afraid she’s in trouble.

"Oh, yes. It’s not me I wanted to talk to you about, it’s Leah."

You make a slight grimace but nods gently, your look staying on the cup of coffee you ordered yourself.

"I’m sorry if I intervene in a way that is not my business and you will have the right to scold me later, but I think it’s time someone did"

You look at her again a little surprised. Faithful to her country of origin, Lia is far from wanting to conflict with anyone. However, the fact that she wants to take the risk of doing so is a testament to the importance of what she will say.

"Leah told me what happened between you two"

Lia gives you an apology smile, but you told Alessia and Ingrid about it so you just nod. It would be rather inappropriate for you to resent Leah for needing to confide to someone.

"I don’t know who told you things about her, but what I do know is that Leah has been my friend since I came to Arsenal. She was always loyal and honest with me. When my ex and I broke up and I was lower than earth, she came home every night to try to cheer me up. She is sincere, kind and much sweeter and more tender than what people want her to be."

You know, you’re uncomfortable. You are one of those people who preferred to listen to what people was saying about Leah at the worst time, when she showed you during all these weeks that she is the girl that Lia has just described to you.

"I don’t know your past Y/N and I’m not judging you. But I really believe that Leah is genuinely interested in you. If it were just for one night, she would have moved on for a long time especially after you told her you don’t want a one time thing"

You remain silent for a few seconds, during which you assimilate what Lia has just told you. Passing a hand through your hair, you end up looking up at her.

"Anyway, it’s too late now. She must hate me, right?"

"I think you should talk to her about all this"

You bite your lip, realizing this is the second time you’ve been advised to do this in a few days. Unfortunately, this could be complicated.

"How? She doesn’t even want to see me here anymore"

Your desperate look seems to amuse Lia, or at least she smiles while rolling her eyes.

"By extraordinary luck we’re in the 21st century. You can either contact her via your phone or go to her house to talk to her"

Lia’s amused tone makes you smile slightly. She’s right, but it’s not so much your style to impose your presence somewhere. Your interlocutor must understand your reticence, since she puts her hand on your arm, making you look at her again.

"I will not speak for her, but she also suffered in her past. The only thing holding you both back is a lack of communication. I’m sure it can be fixed."

********

Right in front of Leah’s house, you don’t remember being so nervous for a long time. After thinking long and hard about the conversation you had with Lia, you then had to think about how to approach Leah. The blond continues to flee you like the plague and even if contacting her by message would probably be easier, you are not sure if she answers you. If the blonde has many qualities that have made you fall under her spell, she is still atrociously stubborn and resentful.

You turned in your head several scenarios, again and again until you became half crazy. Then you had enough. Sitting on Alessia’s couch in front of a particularly lame reality TV, you suddenly got up. Alessia gave you a worried look but you just threw at her while leaving her apartment

“I’m going to see Leah”

Your voice was clear and determined, making her understand that your decision was made. After shrugging her shoulders, Alessia lay down again in front of the television.

“Okay. But maybe change your pajamas first.”

Interrupted in your way, your hand freezes on the doorknob of the stricker’s apartment. Your eyes slide on your polar pajama bottoms with avocados drawn on them.

A grommet escapes from your lips as you open the door, triggering Alessia’s laughter behind you.

_____________________________________________________________

Merry Christmas you all 🎄❤️

[leossmoonn]

Hey do you think you could write about like the reader having an attitude when she comes home from work and mikey fucks the attitude out of her?

18+ under the cut - includes: cut to sex scene, unprotected sex. abby is like at a friends house or smth so dw just bc she’s not mentioned doesn’t mean she’s in the house

this is actually the worst thing i ever wrote im sorry but this is all i could give

you slam the door shut once you get inside. you kick off your shoes rather roughly, practically throwing your keys on the coffee table. mike looks to you, a little taken aback by your demeanor. usually he’s the one coming home throwing things and stomping around. it’s not like you’re a happy-go-lucky person, but you’re not one to be this upset about something unless it’s really bad.

and honestly, you didn’t know what you were upset about. it just seemed like today was the worst day in your entire life. you’d woken up late, didn’t get to eat breakfast, had the worst lunch ever, your meetings at work were a waste of time, and traffic was bad. the list could truly go on. so you weren’t really in the mood to plant a smile on your face and pretend like you weren’t irritated.

“hey, how was work?” mike asks. “fine,” you huff, walking to your shared bedroom. you change out of your work clothes, feeling as though they were suffocating and uncomfortable all day.

mike stands up from the couch, following you. “are you sure it was fine?”

“yes, mike!” you shout. “can you just drop it?”

mike reaches out to touch your arm. “i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you twist your arm out of his grip, feeling like every little thing could just set you off. “i said i’m fine.” you try to keep your cool, but you can feel anger bubbling up inside of you.

“you can talk to me, you know. i’m here for you.”

“i don’t want to talk!” you yell. “just leave me alone for fucks sake!”

mike blinks at you like you just killed somebody. “o-kay,” he says after a long pause. “sorry for checking up on you,” he mumbles.

you groan, “can you not play the self-pity, nice-guy card?”

“i’m not! this is genuinely how i feel! imagine if the roles were reversed. you’d be feeling pretty shitty, too, right?”

“no because i’d know to leave you alone,” you say matter-of-factly.

“well, i’m not going to leave you alone.”

“why?” you ask, ready to throw something.

“because i believe that you need to tell me what’s wrong so you can not have an attitude.”

“well, if you’re just going to pester me, then i’ll just leave.” you slip on a pair of slippers that are by your bed, grabbing a jacket and heading out of the bedroom.

“where are you going?” he asks. “anywhere but here!” you shout.

“you can’t just run away! you’re starting to act like me.”

“yeah, well, maybe i need to not be around you for a while, then!”

mike rolls his eyes at you, knowing you’re just saying all this because you’re mad at him for some reason. he knows he should’ve left you alone, but now the conversation has gone too deep for him to just give up.

as you put a hand on the door, mike grabs your wrist and yanks you back.

“let go, mike. i’m a grown woman and can do what i want.”

“which is precisely why you’re staying here.” he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowed with determination. his grip on you is tight, but not harmful. there are small beads of sweats lining his forehead and his cheeks are slightly flushed from becoming worked up. his eyes are wide and pupils blown out, meaning that he’s been thinking of you in some way in between your fight.

“make me,” you say lowly, in almost a whisper.

you’re on top of the kitchen counter now, sweatpants and panties scattered on the ground. mike’s shirt is somewhere in the living room along with his belt. his jeans are pooled around his legs as he leans against the counter. your nails are digging into his shoulders, head thrown back and rubbing against the cabinets. mike’s face is buried into your neck, pants and whimpers becoming muffled into your skin. his cock is throbbing inside of you as your walls clamp down around him.

“mike, oh! right there, yes!” you moan, your eyes rolling behind your eyelids. he’s balls deep inside of you as he hits that spot expertly.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good,” he mumbles into your shoulder. he can feel your heart thud in your chest as he presses up against you. the sweat on your bodies mix as he thrusts faster. you wrap your legs around his waist, seemingly pulling him in tighter, making him push deeper inside of you. your hands grip his hair as you feel yourself orgasm and you cry out his name.

you feel him come inside of you in hot spurts, coming to a complete stop as he finishes. you both groan as he slips out of you. he grabs a piece of paper towel and wipes up his cum that’s running down your leg.

you’re still huffing and puffing, savoring the feeling of the cold wood and granite on your back and legs. mike gives you a small smile and you lean down and kiss his cheek.

“not so stressed now, huh?” he remarks. you roll your eyes and punch his shoulder. “it’s just a coincidence.”

“mm, maybe i should try this next time then and see if it correlates,” he says.

“maybe you should.”

[rook-laidir]

Rook Banter Part Something

Too Rook, Too Banter

~

Rook: So you like cats but don’t want one of your own?

Neve: Hard to keep a cat on a feeding schedule with the hours I keep. Besides, I’m spending more time in the Fade than in Dock Town lately and I’m not sure the Lighthouse is the safest place for a cat.

Rook: Assan seems to be doing just fine.

Neve: Sure, but there’s plenty of small hiding spots. Who knows what kind of trouble a cat could get up to?

Rook: I thought you liked trouble.

Neve: Sometimes.

~

Davrin: Rook, you’ve hunted your fair share of monsters. What’s the biggest one you’ve taken down?

Rook: Biggest or deadliest? And do demons count?

Davrin: Normally I’d say no, but now you’ve got me curious.

Rook: Found a desire demon in an old ruin off the coast of Antiva a few years ago. She was luring sailors down to their deaths, making them promises they couldn’t refuse.

Davrin: How’d the fight go?

Rook: It wasn’t much of a fight on my end. Isabela had to get a few good hits in before I snapped out of it.

Davrin: Sure she let you live that one down pretty quickly.

Rook: She was very persuasive!

~

Lucanis: (sighs)

Rook: Something on your mind?

Lucanis: Caterina’s refusing to let me change some of the decor in the ballroom.

Rook: Aren’t you First Talon now? Can’t you do it anyway?

Lucanis: I may be First Talon, but she is still my grandmother. I’d face twenty Crows before getting on the receiving end of her displeasure.

Rook: Just tell me which decorations you want gone. I can make a couple of them go missing.

Lucanis: You are not stealing from my house.

Rook: (grumbles) Fine.

~

Rook: I’m gonna regret asking, but what are you eating?

Harding: Chocolate covered jerky! Want some?

Rook: When has my answer ever been yes?

~

Rook: Bellara, can I ask you a favor?

Bellara: Sure. What do you need?

Rook: Can you make fried fish?

Bellara: Really? Just fried fish? I mean, I can - well, I probably can, I haven’t gotten the chance to try yet - but that’s it? I was kind of expecting something important and world-ending like usual.

Rook: Neve hasn’t gotten to go back to Down Town for a bit and I think she’s homesick.

Bellara: Oh, it’s for Neve? Why didn’t you say so? I’ll make some extra so she won’t get hungry if she stays up too late again.

Rook: Thanks, Bellara.

Bellara: And you can share them.

Rook: Sure.

Bellara: Together.

Rook: Okay?

Bellara: Alone.

Rook: (groans) Shut up.

Bellara: If you hurt her, I’m tweaking the Eluvian. You’ll be ripped apart in seconds and no one will hear you scream.

Rook: Right…Got it.

~

Taash: The Lords are playing Pandemonium at the Hilt later. You in?

Rook: Absolutely. I gotta win my dignity back.

(If another companion is present): What’s Pandemonium?

Taash: It’s a game the Lords made up a few years ago. We have this ugly chalice Rowan found and we take turns hiding it and trying to find it. Winner gets gloating rights and they get to hide the chalice next.

Rook: As long as they don’t break the rule.

(If another companion is present?): The rule? There’s only one rule?

Rook: Yup. Don’t kick anyone’s junk.

Taash: It’s a good rule.

~

Emmrich: I was wondering about schooling processes in Rivain. Where did you study?

Rook: My mother taught me how to read and count up coin when I helped with her stall. Aside from that, I kinda just learned everything else on my own.

Emmrich: Really? You’ve received no formal education?

Rook: When you’re just trying to make ends meet or you’re stuck on a galley for a few years, it’s kind of hard to make time to study.

Emmrich: Ah. Well, I’d be happy to tutor you if you’d like.

Rook: I’m not exactly a model student. Thanks for the offer, though.

[angelic-sturniolos111]

Some Privacy 🌌 pt. 1

You’ve been staying with the triplets in LA for a few weeks and are growing incredibly sexually frustrated being in Matt’s presence all the time. A late-night hot-tub sesh between the two of you reveals all…

matthew sturniolo x fem! reader

warnings: smut in future parts 🤭, mentions of rape, lots of sexual tensionnnnn

author’s note: quite possibly my best work to date tbh had to make it into parts

future parts will be linked here =>

Y/N’s POV:

The triplets, close friends of mind, were kind enough to let me stay with them in LA for a few weeks while I had off from school while I work remote. They’ve showed me all around LA and we’ve spent a lot of time together having fun and making content for their YouTube channel. Everything has been great, and I really have no reason to complain, except for one thing…

I’m horny as fuck.

Normally, my libido is a little above average I’d say, but there’s one major contributing factor to my frustration.

Matt Sturniolo.

I’ve always had a crush on him since we’ve met though I’d never act on my feelings in fear that he’d reject me. Aside from my feelings for him he is absolutely, incredibly, insanely hot. I can never get my eyes off of him when we’re in a room together. The way his stubble perfectly contours his jaw, his big veiny hands, the tattooed, everything. Though he wasn’t just a looker, he’s also one of the sweetest kindest people I’ve ever met— which is why I can’t risk losing him as a friend.

I’d typically handle my current situation on my own. The problem is, I’m sleeping on the triplets couch in the living room. Knowing those night owls, anyone could enter the room at any given moment, and I can’t risk getting caught. Not only that, but we’re always together and not once have I had the house to myself or any moment of privacy since being here.

I’m laying on the couch seriously debating on whether or not I should touch myself, but then my mind wandered to the thought of Matt possibly catching me in the act. The thought of Matt watching me touch myself made my situation worse as the heat built up between my legs and my heartbeat got that much faster.

“Ugh— fuck this.” I said to myself. I got up off the couch and grabbed some of my workout clothes to change in the bathroom. Then I went back into the living room by the front door and sat down to put on and tie my sneakers. The only other way I could let this frustration out would be to go for a run, and that’s just what I planned to do until I hear a door creak open.

I see Matt stepping out of his bedroom, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, rubbing his eyes as if he’d just woken up.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Nah, I was kinda already awake and I thought I heard you— wait, what are you doing? Where are you going?” He questions once he sees me dressed and tying my shoes, ready to head out the door.

“I’m going for a run.”

“Ummm no you’re not.” He says in a serious tone.

“Ummm yes, I am.” I reply in the same tone.

“Y/N, I’m not letting you go for a run alone this late at night.”

“I’ll be fine Matt,” I say as I stand up and start grabbing my bag and water bottle. He roughly grabs my wrist and stops me forcing me to look up at him.

“NO you are not going! You’ll get kidnapped, or raped, or something… I am not letting you leave this house.” He said sternly. I sighed, staring up at the ceiling in surrender.

“Why do you want to run this late anyways?” Matt says letting go of my wrist and leaning against the kitchen counter. I pause thinking of how to answer.

“I’m just… stressed.” I half-lied.

“How come?”

“It’s ummm— it’s complicated. I’m just really stressed and needed to hash it out somehow so I could relax and go to sleep.” Matt nods his head in response, and though the room is dimly lit I can still see the concern behind his blue eyes.

“How about I go get the hot tub heated up and we can relax in there together, okay?” The hot tub? Alone, with Matt? Before I could protest he speaks up, “C’mon, go put a bathing suit on and I’ll meet you out there, k?” Matt says assuredly. I sigh, turning back to the living room to get a bathing suit out of my suitcase and change again.

*****

I push open the sliding glass door to see Matt already in the bubbling, steaming hot tub. He's in his bathing suit, shirtless, the front strands of hair gently clinging to his forehead from the steam, soft blue light of the hot tub illuminating his face… Fuck. In no way was this helping my sexual frustration.

I saunter over to the tub and step in letting the hot water consume me. The pulsing jets hitting all the right spots on my lower back and shoulders. I inhale deeply feeling the humid steam fill my nostrils. I exhale letting my head fall back onto the side of the tub.

"Feels good?" Matt asks. My heart skips a beat at his question as I imagine him saying it to me under different circumstances, and for the filthiest of reasons.

"Mhmm." I hum in reply, not dropping my head back to look at him because I know that would just drive me up a wall.

I stayed in this position for a while, head back and eyes closed as I try and focus on the soothing sensation the hot tub is giving me while also trying not to bring my attention to Matt knowing that would only make my situation worse.

"Why are you stressed? What's on your mind?" Matt asks bringing me back to reality after zoning out. I reluctantly drop my head back down and open my eyes to meet his. Big mistake. The steam had collected on his skin causing small beads of water to fall down his chest into the tub. His arms were outstretched against the walls of the tub, and his legs part wide open as he laid his back against the tub wall. Despite being submerged underwater I could feel my core getting increasingly wet.

"I told you it's complicated, and it's personal…" I reply shyly.

"Awe c'mon Y/N, you can tell me. You know Nick nor Chris can have mature conversations about our feelings like I can." I sigh. He's right. I've always been able to talk freely and openly with Matt about my problems, my anxiety, and he opens up to me about the same things.

"I've been very… frustrated recently." I say hesitantly, looking at the blue bubbling water to avoid eye contact.

"How come? Is being in the house with us too much? I know we can be a lot sometimes so if you want to go home that's totally fine, we'll understand." He says genuinely. My lips curl into a smile huffing out a light laugh at his cute assumption.

"No! No that's not it at all. I love being here with you three." I say bringing my eyes up to find Matt's already looking deeply into mine. He raises his brows slightly and tilts his head indicating for me to continue. "I've been," God, was I really about to tell him this?

"I've been sexually frustrated. Extremely." I say, not breaking eye contact. Everything inside of me is vibrating and I feel like sinking down into the tub and drowning myself in it.

Matt's eyes widen slightly as his mouth gently parts. "Oh…" he said softly as that was all he managed to get out. He dropped his arms into his lap and stared at the water looking deep in thought. We both didn't speak, only for a moment, but the silence made time feel like it was dragging out forever.

"Why, then… Have you— have you touched yourself at all?" Matt stutters out. I can sense he's just as nervous as I am to have this conversation, but I also can tell that there is genuine concern laced in his voice.

"No. Trust me, I've wanted to. I’ve been sleeping on the couch in the living room, so I haven’t. You and your brothers are up at all hours of the night, and one of you has come into the kitchen for a late-night snack, or come to the living room to see if I was awake to chat or film. So I feel like I just haven’t had enough privacy to do so— that’s all.”

Matt and I have had many deep conversations before, and I am always super honest with him because he makes me feel safe and comfortable. But right now, I’ve never felt so vulnerable in front of him.

“Mmm.” He hums, his eyes darting away from mine.

A few moments of slightly uncomfortable silence pass before he pushes himself off the hot tub wall and slowly makes his way over to me. Our eyes lock again, but his are different this time, darker.

“We have some privacy now.” Matt says in a low, deep tone.

We? My breath hitches in my throat.

Suddenly, everything in the atmosphere changed. We deeply stared into each other’s eyes. Our stare was one where we both didn’t have to speak, and the silence felt comfortable. His stare quieted the millions of thoughts racing in my head until I was only focused on him and how my body called for him. I no longer felt vulnerable. I felt stronger. Confident.

I could see in his eyes that he was thinking the same thing I was, and his blown out pupils told me he wanted it just as badly…

**********

taglist:

@flowerxbunnie @delimeats-000 @daddyslilchickenfingers @sturniolosluvv @lovingmattysposts @lustfulslxt @sturnioloskies @recklesssturniolo @strniohoeee @apclyptc @strawberrysturniolo @hoesformatt @luv4kozume