#y'all are cute but please sleep

[moocha-muses]

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey erm can we get something for the dressage one? Maybe Gil is working very hard for a whole week without proper rest and one day thena comes in to check on Olympia and sees her resting on the ground with Gil leaning on her and sleeping?

"He is beautiful, in his own way."

Olympia just stared at her. The horse was lying down comfortably, nestled in among the hay Gil had been unloading all week. The man himself was actually curled up on some loose straw and tucked into Olympia's side, currently.

Thena tilted her head. She would never get this opportunity again, and she couldn't help but observe the fine details of Gil's visage now that it was open to her. And she couldn't be caught staring.

Olympia bumped Thena's head with her snout.

"Stop it," Thena whispered, keeping her horse's nose out of her business. "Don't wake him."

Gil had been working nonstop since their return from the tournament. It still seemed ridiculous to her that there was no one to help assist Gil, let alone cover his duties when he was away. It was part of his contract that he get at least some time off.

She had been trying to catch him at a good time all week. But all he had been doing was unloading hay and securing stables and caring for the horses. She had barely seen him at all.

Thena smiled as Gil turned over slightly in his pile of hay. "Some might say he's rather cute."

Olympia fixed one of her bulbous eyes upon her with a look of clear disbelief.

"Oh, shush," Thena scolded her own horse. She leaned against Olympia, running her hand down the front of her nose with a sigh. "I know you like him, too."

There was a time when she wouldn't have allowed herself to admit that she liked him at all. She could barely believe there was a time when she was determined not to like him at all. But he had won her over, as she imagined he was capable of doing with anyone.

Olympia let out a whinny, far louder than just a simple puff of air.

"Olympia!" Thena hissed at her, putting her finger up as if that were going to do any good with a horse. Gil stirred and she rushed behind Olympia.

Foolishness washed over her as she crouched behind Olympia's neck. Her face flushed. It was not only foolish of her to be hiding after spying on him, it was foolish of her to be watching him sleep like some creep. What was she supposed to say if he woke?

No, she wasn't watching him sleep because of some deep held affection she had for him. It was purely because she admired him as an equine caretaker, of course.

"Huh?" he startled upon his hay, looking around and then up at Olympia. "What's wrong, girl?"

He asked, but Olympia all but laughed at his panic. She adjusted herself, shaking out her mane. Her movement exposed the top of a head of blonde.

Gil rubbed his eyes. "Thena?"

She sighed, thunking her head against Olympia's neck. This little mare could be such a brat. Thena cleared her throat, hoping to compose herself as she rounded the horse's head to face Gil. "Sorry, I really was trying not to wake you."

"That's okay," Gil rushed to stand and brush himself off. He blushed, "S-Sorry, I shouldn't be sleeping."

Thena shook her head with a smile. "You shouldn't need to sleep. They're woking you too hard."

He shrugged, ruffling his hair (which shed a few hay twigs). "We got the hay delivery and the food delivery on the same day, which doesn't usually happen. But I gotta get them all sorted and put away before the temperature changes tonight."

Thena just sighed. It was an impossible amount of work for any one person. And if it were anyone but Gil, she doubt they would have gotten done what he had. "Gil, that's-"

"And now that tournaments are over, everyone's leaving for the season, so I've been trying to prep as much as I can before I have all the horses in all the time."

Despite the stables being on club grounds, it was rare to have every horse in all at the same time. And she couldn't imagine what it meant for Gil's workload to not have any time when the horses were out in someone else's care.

"Thanks girl," Gil thanked Olympia, petting her nose gently. "I guess I need to recharge my batteries a little."

"It should be more than a little," Thena raised her eyebrows at him. "When was the last time you truly rested?"

"Well," he drew out, avoiding her eyes boring into him. "I've been getting up early to try and premix the food and get all the hay to loosen, if need be."

"And what is early?" she inquired further, crossing her arms at him. She wasn't here to nag him like some put upon partner. But she knew that his days already began at 6 in the morning on a normal day.

"Uh," Gil avoided looking at her even more than before. It almost seemed unfair, since he could look over the top of her head naturally. "Well, like...4-ish."

"Gil-" Thena crossed her arms at him.

"Thena, really, it's okay," he attempted to minimise what he was doing, again. "It's just for the next week and a half or so. Then it's pretty smooth sailing until everyone comes back for the next season."

Thena continued to scowl, and not just at how her fellow competitors could somehow have the heart to leave their horses at the club for two whole weeks. She sighed.

"I slept pretty well, actually," Gil tried to laugh it off as he started crouching down to collect the loose hay. "I can-"

Thena all but elbowed him out of the way to grab a handful for herself. He just stared at her, stunned, but she glared right back, daring him to tell her not to. "It will go quickly with the both of us."

She walked decisively towards the pens with her meager armful of hay. It was a drop in the bucket, she was aware. Olympia followed behind her, although once actually in her pen she turned around, making it clear she wouldn't be assisting further.

"Thena," Gil attempted to reason with her as she passed him, moving an armful at a time while he had some heavier buckets of feed with him to leave outside of each pen. "You don't have to-"

"And you shouldn't have to do all of this yourself, but here we are."

Maybe he had no defense to that, but he continued on in his work as she continued with hers, no matter how inefficiently. As much as she would like to, she wasn't delusional enough to think that she had the physical strength to move the hay bales. But it only made her more adamant on doing whatever she could to help him.

"You are not staying here until all hours of the morning--or waking up at dawn," she huffed at him in passing, making her third lap. "You shouldn't even have to stay here when the club is in its off season."

"Well, that's kind of the whole room and board deal," he shrugged, watching her huff and puff past him again and again. "They provide the room and I board."

She rolled her eyes as she dumped the last of the loose hay that had been serving as their daybed at Olympia's feet. The mare then had the audacity to flop down again, as if so exhausted from all the work of watching them.

"Come to mine."

"Huh?" Gil looked up in the middle of grabbing the hose.

She had blurted it right out, and perhaps a bit impulsively at that. She and Gil had gotten to know each other better but she wouldn't say that they were familiar enough for him to come over to her home. But she had stuck out the invitation like it was nothing. She cleared her throat, determined to follow through. "At least for tonight, you can have a meal that's not made in the guest suite kitchen. And I come to see Olympia everyday even in the off season anyway."

Gil was quiet, and the idea that he would reject her invitation, even if just to be polite, actually made her heart jump around in her chest. He had put down the hose. "There's a lot to get through, tonight."

She didn't waver. "Then we should continue on."

Gil let her pass him again. "Can you cook?"

"No, but I'm on good terms with every delivery driver in the area."

Gil laughed, loudly enough to make Olympia shuffle around in curiosity. But he picked up his hose again and started spraying down the pen doors. "Well, if we get outta here too late, I'm pretty good at whipping up even the barest of ingredients."

Of course he was a great cook of human food, too, Thena lamented. She crouched, dragging a bag of dry food mix into her arms. Between these and the hay, at least she could somewhat lift these. Although, by the time she got even one carried over from the open barn to the pen hallway, Gil already had two hefted up on his shoulder. She swiped at some sweat on her brow.

"Show off."

[bbokicidal]

[SKZ] Finding you asleep with their SKZOO plushie

mini post of bullet point head canons lol - with SamSung as the poster children ig

Genre: Fluff Pairing: OT8 x Reader Warnings: None

SFW Masterlist | NSFW Masterlist

Chan:

Coos at the sight of you asleep with his Wolfchan plushie

Takes a picture of you because he thinks you look so cute

Also takes a .5 picture just to clown on you a little later

LOVES it when you take his stuff and sleep with it

He's caught you sleeping with his hoodies on before but his plushie?? His mini other him??? Ugh, his heart!!

Crawls into bed with you and lets you keep holding onto the plushie instead. He'll just spoon you from behind. <3

Wakes up to you cuddling him instead and sticks his tongue out as if the Wolfchan plushie is alive and will see it and be hurt lol

Lino:

Stares the second he catches you napping on the couch with his Leebit plushie

He's not surprised - you texted saying you were tired, wanted cuddles - but he was at practice and he was still all sweaty and grimy

Walks over to take a quick picture

Picks up the plushie and pretends to aggressively punch it's little face before calmly placing it back in your arms

Thinks it's really a cute sight but silently hates the plushie for taking his place

Changbin:

Starts immediately punching the air to fight his cuteness aggression

Almost wakes you up with how hard he's breathing because he's holding it all in

Takes a picture and sends it to the group chat to talk about HOW CUTE YOU ARE !!

Sits on the ground by the couch where you're napping and reaching out to touch the plushie.

Gives it head pats, rubs its cheeks. Then does the same to you

Gentle happy boy <3

Hyunjin:

POSTS a PICTURE on his INSTAGRAM OF YOU

Hard launches your relationship while also promoting the most recent SKZOO collaboration project

When you wake up he's pouty

Pretends not to be jealous of the plushie but most certainly IS jealous you got to cuddle him instead of Jinnie.

Please give him snuggles, he's probably gonna drown the bitch in your kitchen sink if you don't (Learned from the worst)

Jisung:

He thinks it's the cutest thing on Earth !!!

Makes a picture of you with Hanquokka his phone background

Thinks it's soooo cute because your cheek is squished against the plushie's round cheeks

Shows all the members the following evening at practice

You end up finding out from Chan who texted you a pic of Jisung's background - who was then running around yelling that Chan ratted his out and that they'd never see him again when he went home

You get revenge by making a .5 of his big ass forehead your background <3

Felix:

Ends up waking you up because he's giggling so much at his phone

He'd texted the group chat a picture of you sleeping with Bbokari and said his two favorite girls were napping together (idk Bbokari's gender fluctuates she's a unisex icon we love him)

Apologizes and wraps his arm around you in the bed so you can cuddle him and Bbokari at the same time

Gives you lots of cuddles and pouts at himself for waking you up

Gives you a little back rub while he's there <3

Seungmin:

Pouts when he finds you but ultimately stays quiet. Until he sees the Puppym plushie.

How DARE you replace him so easily with someone so.... SMALL.

Recreates the 'Welcome Home Cheater' banner and puts it up on the kitchen wall so you see it when you wake up

Ultimately he just laughs about it but he makes a show of acting serious when you question what you did wrong

Gives you lots of hugs and kisses as an apology for worrying you but also sits on the Puppym plushie as y'all watch movies together as payback

Jeongin:

Gets SO smiley when he sees you with the Foxiny plushie!!

He takes pictures but he sends them to his family members instead of the group chat

Actually, he tells them that 'this is the person I'm gonna marry some day'

Loves that you love his skzoo as much as you love him

Later when he's chatting with you about seeing you sleeping w/ the plushie, he pretends to chokehold it and feigns anger at the plushie for 'stealing his partner'

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix @hwangjoanna @skzophreniic

@silly250

[cherrynflowergarden]

disgusting(ly in love) || matt sturniolo

an; hiiii my loves how are y'all?? someone please give me some ideas for this i wanna make one for chris too:( this was originally supposed to be for 10 mins but i ran out of ideas and ended up making it 8 mins THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU ALL<33

summary; a youtube compilation of matt and yn being in love for 8 mins.

tagged; @t1llysblogs

matt was bored. and on youtube. having stumbled upon a video titled "MATT AND YN BEING DISGUSTING(LY IN LOVE)!!!??? tw happy couple (ew)" he decided he had nothing better to do than watch this.

clip one; sleeping beauties

the clip started with nick going down the stairs and screaming for matt. what he didn't know was yn, matt's girlfriend had stayed over.

expecting matt to be awake, he pushed the door open with his vlog camera on.

there laid matt and yn, all cuddled up on the bed. the blanket covered their tangled legs yet the way matt held his girl against his chest was enough to make everyone jealous of the couple. near them mr wrinkleton, matt's pug plushie and ms bubbles, yn's rabbit plushie cuddled too, almost making it look just like the couple in plushie forms.

a small laugh left nick, as he zoomed the camera into their faces.

clip two; twitch stream

matt was streaming on twitch with his brothers while his girlfriend went out on lunch with her friends.

coming back home, yn did not expect to hear shouts from each brother's room. assuming they were only playing video games with each other, she yelled "honeyyyyyy i'm homeeeeee" right as she entered in matt's room. not giving him any time to answer the girl skipped her way to her boyfriend and sat on his lap; all excited to tell him about the latest gossip session she had with her girls.

but that could wait for a while.

he looked so beautiful that she couldn't help but wrap her arms around his neck, giving a sweet kiss on his lips. pulling away she kissed his cheeks and mumbled "god you're so cute".

giggling softly, the boy pulled her face up and said "thank you baby" she was about to say something when chris screamed "OH MY VIRGIN EYES". laughing at the way her eyes got wide, matt explained "we're streaming baby"

clip three; birthday gift

sometimes yn vloged. since the triplets' birthday was coming soon, she decided to vlog the entire process of shopping for the brothers.

twelve minutes into the video, she was all set and ready with meaningful gifts for each brother. once she put all the gifts in separate bags for each brother, she smiled at the camera. "finally. it was such a tiring day. now only one thing is left to do. y'all remember the paints i brought? well we're doing a fun little craft." taking out the red and pink paints, she went to grab a plain black tshirt.

cutting a heart stencil out of a paper, she stuck the paper to the tshirt's back. applying the fabric paint on her lips she started kissing the cloth between the cutout paper heart. applying different shades of pink and red, she filled kisses in the shape of a heart. laughing at her now smudged 'lipstick' she showed the camera her now ready gift.

"gonna let it dry now. i think i will maybe do something in the front also. not sure. will keep you guys updated!!"

safe to say, matt loved his gift so much that he demanded another kiss tshirt so that he could wear her kisses every day.

clip four; beach

this was a short clip from the hawaii vlog. the triplets, yn, maddie and nate where walking to the beach near hotel. well not all of them were walking through.

yn decided she was too tired to walk today and matt being the absolute angel he is, let her to hop on his back as he carried the girl to the beach.

maddie had vlogged matt carrying his girl on his back, humming to whatever she had to say. the camera captured matt listening carefully to his girlfriend as she spoke animatedly about penguins. the last thing the camera captured was yn repeatedly kissing the boy's cheek as he smiled before chris pushed the couple claiming "it was sick to watch people in love"

clip five; beach again

this was a clip from the same vlog as the last. matt and yn were seen enjoying in the water. splashing water against eachother their joyous laughs could be heard.

suddenly matt lifted the girl up, enjoying her screams of fear. dropping her a little, matt laughed harder as his girl tightened her hold on his neck. "matt i swear to god if you throw me in the water" laughing at her empty threats, matt dropped her down a little.

"MATTEW STURNIOLO"

"but baby i love you" he said as he completely dropped her down.

clip six; deaf, mute and blind challenge

yn sometimes participated in the triplets' videos. right now she was a part of the deaf mute and blind challenge. nick and chris were deaf, matt was mute and she was blind.

it was tough to be blind when she was only one who could actually cook something but nothing goes according to her wish, right?

which brings us to this moment. yn, desperately trying to find the bowl which contained the pancake mixture. looking at his struggling girlfriend, matt came behind her and pulled the bowl towards them. putting the whisk in her hand, he grabbed her from behind and helped her whisk the ingredients together. mumbling a small thank you the girl was finally relieved as the process was almost over.

all while nick and chris danced and screamed to doja cat.

clip seven; grwm

yn was filming a get ready with me to go to a date. while she was putting the make up on, her boyfriend entered the room. saying a quick hi to him she turned back to explain her makeup process to her followers.

"—oh y'all need to try this mascara. it's sooooo good. i literally cried—" hugging the girl matt cut off her rant. he squeezed the girl in his arms as she turned around to place a kiss on his cheek. laughing at the bright red stain her lipstick left on his cheeks she tried to grab a tissue to wipe it off. protesting against it, the boy pulled her closer to him.

clip eight; dancing in the snow

the clip was from a random vlog yn posted. it started off with yn putting her vlog camera on the car's bonet and running towards matt. the two, fully covered in wools from head to toe danced in the snow without any music.

matt twirled his girl, a small laugh leaving him as the girl lost balance and collided with him, pushing the two to the ground.

it may seem silly to others, dancing without any music or laughing like madmen in the snow but to them this was the best moment of their life.

as the video ended, matt pouted at the screen. he now missed his girlfriend. he decided to facetime his girl not knowing chris was right behind him and he recorded matt smiling and blushing at moments with his girlfriend. probably this would end up in another compilation of matt and yn being in love.

[cheeseceli]

With a sleepy s/o

Pairing: skz Ot8 × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: headcanon, fluff, established relationship

Request: skz with a very sleepy s/o, kinda like han but worse lol.

Warnings: none

A/n: pink lee know can save lives | important highlight

Bang Chan

No one likes it more than him, trust me. He just loves it so much whenever you start to feel a bit drowsy and then sleep in his shoulder/lap. Partially because he thinks you're adorable when sleeping but partially because he feels he can protect you when you're vulnerable like that. He really really likes it

Lee Know

Please stop falling asleep all the time, his camera roll can't take it anymore. Seriously though, every time you sleep he takes thousands of pictures in all possible angles. He says it's because he wants to blackmail you but in reality he just finds you extremely adorable (won't admit that tho)

Changbin

He has like this sixth sense where he just knows you're about to fall asleep, no matter where he is. He physically needs to be like your pillow for whenever you're in this state. Always has a proud smile for when he manages to be there when you need him. Asks for the boys to take pictures of you both like that (they can't handle it anymore)

Hyunjin

The first time you fell asleep next to him he was a bit in shock, but now that he is used to it, he welcomes you with open arms whenever your eyes start to close. He is really satisfied with how you trust him enough to sleep around him, it never fails on making him smile

Han

We just know y'all sleeping together everywhere no matter what time it is. The world could be potentially ending but y'all would be cuddled up and sleeping on the nearest sofa. Honestly it's expected for you both to end up like this after a while, but it's also very cute of you ngl

Felix

Another one who sees this as an opportunity to cuddle everywhere, even if he doesn't feel sleepy in the slightest. He just really enjoys holding you while you dream. The boys took a picture of you both like that once to try to tease Felix but it didn't work at all, as he was extremely happy about it lmao

Seungmin

Also has a lot of pictures of you sleeping but you'll never know that because no way on earth he is showing you that, he might as well die of embarrassment. You also always wake up covered by his jacket/sweatshirt, warm and cozy.

I.N

Most likely to have you sleeping as his phone wallpaper and the least likely to change it. He's so relieved you can't see him when you're sleeping because he always gets this huge lovesick smile on him, he'd probably combust if you could see that.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: you give them flowers

Thank you for reading 🩷

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[cherry-coffees]

Roommates!Caitvi x reader hcs ♡

Caitvi version of my roommate!Caitlyn AU as requested by @chaos1stuff! Take some pure fluff while I cook up some more academic rival!Caitlyn for y'all ;)

roommate!Caitlyn who wakes early every morning without fail. She claims it's because she doesn't like to waste the day by sleeping late, but it's really so she can have some quiet moments with her tea and the sunrise before she has a hectic day of classes and studying and whatever else she has to do in her schedule

roommate!Vi who sleeps late every day. She rolls out of bed with messy hair and a raspy voice, putting on her headphones before doing anything else. She'll just throw on a hoodie and some sweats, barely pausing to brush her teeth before she's out the door and off to her classes or the gym

roommate!Caitlyn who finishes her classes and heads off to the library to study. She has a cute pencil pouch with all of her different colored gel pens and highlighters, and her bag is extremely heavy because she carries around all her books. She's always at the silent floor of the library because "if I wanted to study with noise, I'd just go home and listen to Vi yelling at her video games."

roommate!Vi who does, indeed, love yelling at her video games. Her room features a specific gaming PC that she finally got after wanting it for ages, an ultra-comfortable gaming chair, and good-quality headphones that Caitlyn gifted to her for her birthday (half as a gift for Vi, and half as a gift for herself so Vi wouldn't play her movies so loudly)

roommate!Caitlyn who mothers you just a little bit. She'll make you tea in the mornings if she's still at home when you wake up, give you opinions on which outfits she thinks you look the cutest in, and ask you what happened the second she sees your expression drop. She sits with you quietly until you're ready to talk about what happened, listens when you tell her about your day, then holds you for as long as you need. Her heart breaks a little if she ever sees tears streaming down your cheeks. "Hey, what happened? Don't cry...please don't cry. Whatever it is, I'll fix it for you."

roommate!Vi who gets home from the gym in a happy mood most days. Working out makes her feel good, and she always tries to rope you into her workout sessions in hopes that it'll make you as happy as it makes her. Regardless, she'll set her phone down and play some music when she gets home, rummaging through the fridge to see what she can make. Vi's a good cook, though people may not expect that of her. When you come out of your room to greet her, she twirls you around the kitchen just to make you giggle as she whips up something for you and Caitlyn

roommate!Caitlyn who insists that you, Vi, and her have dinner together every night. She thinks of the three of you as a little family, and therefore, your dinners together as like family dinners. She and Vi will sometimes bicker over whatever they disagree on today, but it's always lighthearted. It usually ends with Vi leaning her chin on her palms and teasing her with a: "you know you love me." Caitlyn, for her part, rolls her eyes instead of saying anything back because she really can't argue with that

roommate!Vi who loves pissing Caitlyn off. You hear a soft knock on the door of your room one night, and when you open it, Vi's standing there with a bottle of black hair dye. "C'mon," she whines, and you can't deny her when she gives you those puppy eyes that always make you go weak for her. "It'll be so funny, and she deserves it for vacuuming the apartment at 8am on a Sunday. She knew I was sleeping!" And, because you're also kind of pissed at Caitlyn for doing that, you're painting Vi's pink hair with the black dye in the bathroom twenty minutes later

roommate!Caitlyn who always surprises you with gifts. Whatever you want, she's already ordered it for same-day delivery to your shared apartment. You're watching TV together one night, and you see expensive sunglasses from a designer brand that you make a passing comment able. It's as simple as: "oh, I like the shape of those." It doesn't matter what you say — there's a wrapped box on your pillow the next morning. You recognize Caitlyn's wrapping because it's all smooth and neat, the corners tucked in perfectly and a navy ribbon that ties it all together. You protest the first few times, citing that you really don't need all the things she's buying you. But Caitlyn just shakes her head. "Nonsense. It's my money, and I can buy whatever I please. If I want to gift you something, then I will." Though, despite how matter-of-fact she is about it, you see the soft smile that graces Caitlyn's features when you try on whatever she's bought you

roommate!Vi who adores touch. She's constantly seeking out physical contact in small ways: throwing an arm around your shoulder when you're watching a movie together, leaning her head on your lap when she gets tired, pulling you into a hug when she's all sweaty after the gym. She laughs when you whine in protest, telling her at least take a shower first. Sometimes, when Vi's past memories get brought up, she gets extra clingy. It's not her fault she's touch-starved. She'll come into your room and stand awkwardly by the doorway until you notice her. When you sigh and open your arms, already knowing what she needs, Vi is more than happy to embrace you to her heart's content. She's muscular and strong when she holds you, but she's like an eager puppy at heart, and the contrast makes her really good at hugging

roommates!Caitvi who start acting weird one day. You catch them mumbling to each other a few times, though they immediately stop and smile when they notice you, asking about your day. They look at each other a little too long sometimes, exchanging thoughts with just glances. You don't understand how they do it. This, combined with their increase in being touchy with each other, leads you to the conclusion that they're in a relationship. They must be trying to figure out how to tell you, is the thought that occurs to you while laying in bed one night. Your heart sinks a little, and you can't fall asleep for a long time after that

roommates!Caitvi who immediately get concerned when you start avoiding them. You come home late most nights, citing various excuses like studying at the library or grabbing coffee with a friend as reasons to why you've been out of the apartment so much. You don't hang out in the common area as much, either, preferring to stay in your room and watch movie on your laptop. It's easier than worrying about if they're making out on the couch or exchanging secret whispers that you never seem to be in on

roommates!Caitvi who corner you one day. After you get home from yet another late night out, they're both sitting at the kitchen table with their arms crossed, both pairs of blue eyes trained on you. "You want to tell us why you've barely talked to either of us the past few weeks?" Caitlyn narrows her eyes. She's not one to be afraid of confrontation. Vi's slightly softer, though her expression mirrors Caitlyn's worry. "If we've done something to upset you, princess, just tell us. You can't avoid us forever."

roommates!Caitvi whose jaws drop when you finally let your thoughts spill from your lips. "Fine!" you huff. "I'm sick of you two pretending you're not hiding something from me! I've seen all of your secret conversations and how touchy you are with each other! Why won't you just tell me you're together? Do you— do you not trust me?"

roommate!Vi who's the first to cut you off. "Woah, woah," she holds both her hands up. "We're not together. Just give us a second to explain, yeah? We have a good explanation for the secrets."

roommate!Caitlyn whose expression immediately softens. "We're not together. Well, we want to be—" she pauses when your face falls. "But we actually just weren't sure how to tell you that we want you, too. That we've fallen for you just as much."

roommates!Caitvi who don't leave your side for the rest of the night. They sandwich you in between them the second you return their confession with your body crumpling in relief. The three of you sleep in Caitlyn's bed that night: the king-sized canopy more than big enough to accommodate them on either side of you. Caitlyn, true to form, wakes up early the next day. But instead of getting up, she pats a sleeping Vi's cheek and brushes some loose hair out of your eyes. Vi, also true to form, wakes up late. Only this time, she pulls you closer into her chest and falls right back asleep. And when Caitlyn wakes you two up with cups of tea and a kiss to each of your foreheads, you've never felt happier.

My first time writing a Caitvi x reader sooo hope you guys enjoyed! I wrote this at 2am while doing a sheet mask teehee <3

~Cherry 🍒

[tinycoffeeroom]

you and i | lando norris

face claim: bela juliana ♡

request: here !

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader

requested: Can I request a social media AU leclerc reader x lando based off of the song ‘You and I’ by Rita Ora Thanks so muchhhhh

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 679,154 others

y/nleclerc oh to be the girl someone writes love stories about

fan I WILL!!!!! give me 10 minutes and garage band i can pull it off!!! ♥️ y/nleclerc

alexandrasaintmleux every love song is about you gorgeous girl x ↳ y/nleclerc when are you gonna stop pretending you like my brother and just date me instead x ↳ charles_leclerc ?? rude.

landonorris d4vd is so good! can't wait for his show in london :)

lewishamilton pipe is right there 😉 ↳ y/nleclerc that is NOT a love song sir lewis hamilton!!!! ↳ charles_leclerc back off grandpa i will put sand in your petrol tank ↳ lewishamilton woah calm down there bud i was joking i promise ↳ y/nleclerc play nice boys ↳ charles_leclerc he started it ↳ y/nleclerc well stop, i dont want ferrari in my dm's telling me y'all are throwing hands on the grid ↳ georgerussell63 if they do, can someone film it? ↳ y/nleclerc ffs

carmenmmundt prettiest girl in the whole wide world 🩷 ↳ y/nleclerc MWAH MWAH MWAH love you carm 💜

francisca.c.gomes getting ed sheeran on the case rn ↳ y/nleclerc i still bawl my eyes out to cold coffee nearly daily ↳ pierregasly really y/n? ed sheeran? ↳ y/nleclerc ok mr listens to crazy frog when he thinks no one can hear

fan lando being the only one y/n airs everytime ☠️ ↳ fan feel bad for him at this point 😭 ↳ fan y/n you want a lover boy, he is RIGHT THERE

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y/nleclerc uploaded 3 pictures to their story

[caption: y/nnies song recs of the day] replies:

charles_leclerc need to find you a boyfriend immediately so you'll stop posting sappy songs on ig ↳ y/nleclerc as long as its not one of your colleagues ↳ charles_leclerc whats wrong with them? :((( ↳ y/nleclerc i hear enough about cars from you i dont need it from them too

landonorris iris is a certified BANGER

heidiberger wanna go get coffee?? i need you to give me new songs for my danny playlist ↳ y/nleclerc y'all are so gross but yesssss ↳ heidiberger i think you misspelt cute 😋

fan y/n can i recommend turning page by sleeping at last? i'm not sure if you have it on your playlist already ❤️ ↳ y/nleclerc team edward FOR LIFE!!!! was one of the songs that got me into my lover girl era ❤️❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 607,285 others

y/nleclerc garden party with my favourite leclerc saint mleux ❤️

charles_leclerc wow i see how it is... ↳ y/nleclerc not my fault your son is cuter than you ↳ oscarpiastri aw i knew you thought i was cute 🥰🥰 ↳ y/nleclerc the cutest piastri-leclerc! come round for tea soon, i miss my nephew x ↳ oscarpiastri will you make that pasta dish again? ↳ y/nleclerc i will just for you! ↳ landonorris osc save some for me please ↳ oscarpiastri get your own y/n this ones mine ↳ landonorris just you wait

fan the adoption is going strong i see ↳ fan i think y/ns the biggest instigator for it 😭

alexandrasaintmleux am i your favourite saint mleux? 🥺 ↳ y/nleclerc always x

landonorris leo!! miss my little man ↳ fan day 2947 of y/n airing lando ↳ fan leave him be, his little crush is cute

arthurleclerc if leo's your favourite leclerc saint mleux, am i your favourite leclerc? ↳ y/nleclerc not even close, that spot is for maman only ↳ leclerc_pascale 🥰🥰

fan where's the dress from?? its so gorgeous!! ↳ y/nleclerc it's from a little boutique in monaco! let me see if i can find some alternatives online 💜 ↳ fan my queen thank you!!!

fan oh to be at a garden party with the leclercs...

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charles_leclerc uploaded to their story

replies:

fan you and alex are so cute ↳ charles_leclerc 😉🤫 ↳ fan what does that mean im scared

fan alex was wearing a floor length dress,, whomstdve is THAT mr leclerc?

arthurleclerc i don't like the way he was looking at her ↳ charles_leclerc don't you dare say anything ↳ arthurleclerc you want.. lando???? to date our sister ↳ charles_leclerc oh he's absolutely smitten, it's cute

y/nleclerc is... is that me and lando? ↳ charles_leclerc you guys looked so cute i couldn't help it ↳ y/nleclerc stalker alert!!! ↳ charles_leclerc deflect all you want, i know you liiiike him ↳ y/nleclerc 🙄🙄

landonorris mate can you send me this please? ↳ charles_leclerc yeah sure 😉

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 679,253 others

y/nleclerc i believe the kids call it serving cunt

alexandrasaintmleux most gorgeous girl in the whole wide world 🩷 ↳ y/nleclerc come give me a kiss xx

charles_leclerc ??!!!?!?!?!???!!!! text me rn!! ↳ y/nleclerc i'm busy ↳ charles_leclerc i have a key to your flat, i'm not afraid to use it ↳ y/nleclerc damn ok so needy

arthurleclerc and who is that. ↳ y/nleclerc why do you wanna know? ↳ arthurleclerc oh god its Him isn't it? ↳ y/nleclerc you say that like its a bad thing 😭 ↳ arthurleclerc it is

fan UMMM??? 3rd pic???? deets please miss y/n ↳ y/nleclerc if all goes well, i'll give you all a full debrief

fan MOTHERRRRRRRRRRR

fan never mind the man DATE ME!!!! ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^^ ↳ lilymhe ^^ ↳ lilyzneimer ^^ ↳ alexalbon charles stop bringing your sister to races i dont know if i can fight PLEASE ↳ y/nleclerc you would lose with those lanky arms wimp

fan poor lando in the likes... watching the girl he fancies go on a date with someone else ↳ fan how do you know he fancies her? ↳ fan he's constantly in her comments even if she airs him, he gets the goo goo eyes whenever she's near and don't even get me started on hungary 2022 ↳ fan ... please continue ↳ fan ok SO! she was in the paddock before the race and some guy came up to her and was asking her for a photo and then he asked her on a date ??? like dude use critical thinking skills for one second ... lando was across the paddock with daniel and there's a photo of him somewhere staring DAGGERS into this mans soul... charles came over and shooed the man away and lando literally deflated.. i'll see if i can find the photos ↳ fan tag me in them please ↳ fan me too! ↳ fan me three!! ↳ charles_leclerc me four!! ↳ fan CHARLES???

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y/nleclerc uploaded to their story

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 708,256 others

y/nleclerc flowers from lover (?) boy :)

fan oh she's down Bad ♥️ y/nleclerc

fan guys dont call me delusional but i think she's dating a driver ↳ fan charles would burn the world down before he would let that happen ↳ fan i gotta say... they have a point, remember when they did that tiktok where they asked drivers who they would introduce their sisters to on the grid and charles said lando immediately ↳ fan and then they did the f2 gang and arthur threatened to kamikaze anyone who tried to go near y/n? ↳ fan going off the comments i'm putting 2 and 2 together and getting 4 ↳ y/nleclerc ironic ↳ fan Y/N??????

fan pls show us lover boy its been 84 years i am begging you ↳ y/nleclerc it's been like 3 months silly but soon :)

charles_leclerc i know i should feel sick seeing you so happy but it's nice to see you be treated how you deserve ↳ y/nleclerc charlie 🥺 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux he's giggling and kicking his feet rn ↳ charles_leclerc wow ↳ fan ik he's picked out a suit for the imaginary wedding ↳ charles_leclerc i reject that statement ↳ alexandrasaintmleux it's bookmarked on his laptop

landonorris pretty flowers! ↳ y/nleclerc thank you :)

fan ???!!!!! SHE REPLIED TO LANDO???? ↳ fan i know he's squealing rn ↳ fan adding it to my "y/nlando dating REAL" spreadsheet ↳ fan omg share the link ↳ charles_leclerc yeah share the link ↳ fan this feels like confirmation but we all know charles lives for the drama

leclerc_pascale don't forget to bring him to the garden party tonight! ↳ fan another one? ↳ y/nleclerc we do them quite often in summer!! it's an excuse to drink champagne at 3 in the afternoon ↳ fan ur so real for that

carmenmmundt lover boy 😔 that should be me ↳ y/nleclerc i've got two hands for a reason babygirl x

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y/nleclerc uploaded 3 pictures to their story

[caption 3: lover boy (no ? this time)] replies:

landonorris lover girl ❤️ ↳ y/nleclerc lover boy ❤️

charles_leclerc photo creds? ↳ y/nleclerc nope!

alexandrasaintmleux its not too late to run away with me x ↳ y/nleclerc meet me at the port at midnight, we can steal charles' boat xx ↳ alexandrasaintmleux y/n it's charles i will bomb the port. ↳ y/nleclerc oh you're Crazy crazy ↳ alexandrasaintmleux only for her ↳ y/nleclerc gross... put my gf back on the phone

fan the sign 🥹 we need to know all the deets ↳ y/nleclerc all i will say is he gave me a mixtape :))))) ↳ fan A MIXTAPE??? LIKE A PHYSICAL MIXTAPE??? oh we stan

fan WHO !!! IS !!! LOVER BOY !!! ↳ y/nleclerc all will be revealed soon ;)

arthurleclerc maybe he has rights ↳ y/nleclerc shush you love him ↳ arthurleclerc thats before he started fancying 🤢 you 🤢

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 789,502 others

y/nleclerc he may not be able to write me love songs, but his voice is my favourite melody ❤️

fan we've officially lost her boys 💔💔

carmenmmundt just looked at george and sighed ↳ georgerussell63 ?? why am i catching strays?? ↳ lilymhe me with alex ↳ alexalbon what he say fuck me for?

fan lover girl x lover boy era <333333 ♥️ y/nleclerc

fan guys that's lando's necklace i'm like 99.9% sure ↳ fan you're onto something there lemme look at pap pics from the last race!

fan guys the flowers are orange... papaya even...

landonorris the guy sure likes his bouquets ↳ y/nleclerc yeah he's a real romantic 😋 ↳ fan WHERE'S THE FAN WITH THE SPREADSHEET ↳ fan I'M HERE !!!!! typing as fast as my fingers can handle!!!!

alexandrasaintmleux just so you know charles is crying at the caption ↳ y/nleclerc big softie x ↳ charles_leclerc i just have a lot of feelings :(((((

arthurleclerc i will allow him to live another day ↳ y/nleclerc i'm sure he's shivering his timbers rn ↳ arthurleclerc >:((((

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👤 landonorris liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 903,185 others

y/nleclerc lover boy x

fan miss rabbit has fainted

fan spreadsheet fan we just got a HUGE update ↳ fan i'm gonna break my laptop in 2 with my bare hands

charles_leclerc :))))) my scheme worked ↳ y/nleclerc i still hate when you do that shit ↳ alexandrasaintmleux same 🙄

landonorris lover girl x ♥️ y/nleclerc

landonorris so gorgeous, i love the way you look tonight xx ↳ y/nleclerc you said the same thing the night we danced together 🥺 ↳ landonorris i meant it then and i mean it now x

mclaren scuderiaferrari we stole your girl xx ↳ scuderiaferrari you and your ugly colours can get BACK 🤺🤺🤺 ↳ fan the girls are fighting!! ↳ mclaren UGLY COLOURS??? oh its on

carlossainz55 now he'll stop blowing up my phone about you ↳ landonorris nah now i can just annoy you about how cute my GIRLFRIEND is ↳ oscarpiastri you've been dying to say that, haven't you? ↳ landonorris mate i thought i was going to die

fan sorry can we circle back around to charles saying his scheme worked??? ↳ fan yeah charles_leclerc spill. ↳ charles_leclerc a magician never reveals his tricks ↳ y/nleclerc he forced me and lando to talk at the garden party and then pretended to get a phone call from ferrari so he could play eternal flame over the speakers ↳ charles_leclerc y/n :(((( ↳ y/nleclerc you used my love song weakness against me, you don't get to have secrets

alexandrasaintmleux can't believe he stole my girl :( ↳ y/nleclerc you know my heart is always yours x ↳ landonorris WOMP WOMP i didn't pine for years to share

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a/n: thank you for requesting!! i think i've listened to the song about 400 times writing this! needed a lil break from the gote series and this was the perfect thing to get me out of my slump <3

taglist: @golden-hoax

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

what is this feeling? | m. murdock

MAJOR DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!!!

a/n: here's my swing at an angsty but cute daredevil born again fic!! hope y'all like it, i think it's alright although the pacing is kinda meh, but. oh well! i like it so i hope you do too. enjoy!! warnings: uhm. SPOILERS FOR DDBA!!!!!!!!!! please head that warning!! lots of fighting, yearning, enemies to lovers, matt is mean and has a moment where he yells at her. then theres a lot of hurt/comfort, lots of softness, a bit of making out. i dunno it's what i got! lots of cursing, strange office behavior, matt and reader have an odd dynamic, kinda implied age gap? wordcount: 3.8k summary: you're pretty sure your boss hates you. pairing: dd:ba!matt murdock x reader now playing: what is this feeling? - wicked "what is this feeling?/fervid as a flame?/does it have a name?/yes/loathing/unadulterated loathing."

All Matt does is mope.

It annoys Kirsten deeply.

He was the one who wanted to open this firm with her, after..

Well, everything.

Maybe mope is the wrong word. Matt’s not moping, he’s mourning. 

Mourning everything, even the things Kirsten doesn’t know about—Mourning Foggy, mourning Daredevil, mourning the relationship he had with Karen, mourning the firm.. Mourning the life he had. Mourning the person he had become.

So Matt throws everything he has into Murdock & McDuffie, because he’s not Daredevil anymore. He’s not anyone’s friend. What else is there?

But it’s starting to have a negative impact on his work.

Because all he does is work! All he does is talk to clients, do paperwork, talk in court, and mourn. He’s beginning to slip. He’s not sleeping, he’s barely eating. His work is suffering because of it, and Kirsten has not come this far to let Matt falter like this.

She knows he’s grieving. She knows he misses Foggy. Misses his entire life. But she knows this isn’t sustainable.

So, she hires you.

You’re a twenty something year old English Major, fresh out of college, with.. no real idea of what you want to do. And no job.

Kirsten, a family friend, tells you her new law firm needs an office assistant. The pay’s pretty good, she tells you, and the office is pretty. All you must do is get Mr. Murdock to his appointments.

Get him coffee.

Tell him a joke.

Ignore how he ignores you.

You show up to your first day of work with a bright smile, a donut for your new boss, and ambition.

Kirsten opens Matt’s door without knocking, smiling as she steps in.

“Who’s this?” he wonders.

“Our new office assistant,” You try to ignore the frown that tugs at his lips when he finds this out.

You hold out your hand to him, giving him your name. He doesn’t stand from his chair when he shakes your hand.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to talk, I have a meeting with a client,” And before either of you can say anything, Kirsten is gone.

“Listen, I—”

“I brought you a donut,” You offer. Matt smiles a bit, but you can tell it’s forced.

“Thank you. You’re sweet, but..” he hesitates. “I don’t really need a secretary.”

“I’m not your secretary; I’m the office assistant.” Matt raises his eyebrows, and you feel your face flush. “Fine, Kirsten hired me to be your secretary, but she did hire me. I want to work here—For you.”

“I’m sure Kirsten has lots of things for you to worry about that aren’t me.” He promises.

You glance down to the small donut box you’re holding in your hand. Then, you place it on his slightly messy desk.

“Well, I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

Matt doubts that he will, but he forces a smile in your direction anyways.

-

Silence. Schedules. Phone calls. More silence.

Weeks pass like this.

You’re beginning to feel like you don’t deserve to be paid for this, half the time you just sit around doing crosswords or sudoku until Kirsten can come up with something for you to do.

You wait for Mr. Murdock to notice you like a puppy, always glancing over to his office.

You think he might hate you. He’s never outright said as much, but he acts like it. The coffee you make causes him to grimace. The research you do is never good enough. And Kirsten does her best, pestering Matt to engage and giving you things to do..

But there’s only so much she can do. So, there are some days where you sit around writing ideas and brainstorming, always thinking about writing.

After two weeks, you’re yet to start using your free time to write on the side.. But after a particularly bad Wednesday morning..

You were just there to take notes at the firm’s general morning meeting. You want to get down anything important, hating all the nervous energy you have. You’re ignoring the way Matt’s thigh feels against yours.

Then, Matt leans over to you, and whispers against your ear, sending a chill down your spine,

“You know, you don’t really need to be here, I can get my notes from someone else—”

From down the table, you hear giggles, and you glance over to see two of the younger, more annoying new attorneys laughing and whispering to each other, all while looking at you and Matt.

Something snaps inside of you.

What the fuck was this, High School?

Why do you tolerate this bullshit?

You nod, turning your head towards Matt.

“You’re right. I don’t need to be here.” Then, with a quiet, ‘excuse me’, you pick up your things, stare straight ahead and go to your desk.

The meeting room goes kind of quiet, every one of them wondering if this was the epiphany you needed, to stop letting yourself be pushed around so often.

Meanwhile, your brain is committed to one thought:

Don’t cry, Don’t cry, Don’t cry—

You manage to make it to your desk, turn your head away from your colleagues, before the tears finally fall. You wipe them quickly and inhale and exhale slowly.

So everyone thinks you’re a fucking pushover who’s just letting Matt hate you so intensely, so what?

You take a deep breath in.

You exhale.

You open Linkedin and update your resume, before browsing for jobs. You apply to one or two.

You do this all day. You don’t get up from your desk, you don’t bring Mr. Murdock coffee, you don’t ask Kirsten what you can do for her, you don’t even respond when Matt asks you if you want anything from his thai food place, his treat.

You do some work, because you’re afraid of getting fired, but you just scribble down emails and addresses and pros and cons of staying, and you focus intensely at the task at hand.

You don’t even hear his footsteps as he approaches, all you hear is—

“Boo!”

You jump, gripping the arms of your swivel chair. You quickly spin around to be met with Matt. Anger burns within you.

“What the hell is your problem?!” You glare.

Matt laughs.

“What? I scared you?”

“Oh, fuck off,” You spit, and then you cover your mouth, your eyes wide. You’re mortified!

Matt just smiles and offers you the bag of, admittedly delicious smelling, thai food.

“You know, I like you better when you don’t let people walk all over you. It’s a better look.” He hums, and you take the food.

“..Thanks.”

“No problem.” He pauses, “But this doesn’t mean I need a secretary, I can still do all my own work,”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” You say bitterly.

“What’re you doing, anyways?”

You don’t hesitate to respond because he deserves this—

“Looking at job listings.” He pauses, as if caught off guard by your honesty.

“Maybe you should stick around, things’ll get easier.” He taps his cane on the ground, and you try to name the emotion inside you.

“Maybe.” Is all you respond before you turn back to your desk and start working.

After that, you hold no reserves about spending the hours that Matt ignores you writing. And you, of course, hear no objections from him.

-

After that, you and Matt are not quite.. enemies.. Well, you never were, but.. things aren’t as hostile as they were before. Occasionally, He’ll listen to you when you give input on a client. Occasionally, he’ll ask you if you want any coffee from the place down the street.

This is the closest the two of you get to a love language or a back and forth—Coffee and notes.

One day, you decide to clean his office while he’s out.

It’s an innocent gesture—Something to try and convince him that you can be useful, when given the opportunity!

You start by taking out the trash, making sure not to mess with any important documents. You note how barren his office is—Compared to your desk full of trinkets, at least. You suppose it makes sense, for a blind man not to concern himself with decorating.

You hang his scarf on a hook on the wall, noting the soft texture.

You don’t even mean to find it.

You just pick it up off his desk, and you’re reading it before you can stop yourself.

The picture on the card depicts a blonde man with a kind smile, handsome, too.

‘In loving memory of Franklin Nelson’ is as far as you get when the door swings open, and Matt is standing in the doorway to the office.

“Oh! Sorry—I was just trying to clean up before you got back from your meeting and—

“What are you holding?” You suspect he already knows based off how he asks, but you’re not sure how. Maybe it’s that important to him, but you’ve noticed that he knows things, weird things. But you have no time to think about that now.

“I found it on your desk,” You hold it out to him and as soon as his finger runs over the braille on the card, you watch his shoulders tense. “I’m so sorry, I just—”

“Never touch this!” He snaps, and you stop, taken aback. “Never ever touch this, do you realize how important this is? What would’ve happened if you lost it or threw it out?!” He steps towards you as he raises his voice, “This isn’t for you! Never come into my office without permission again, and never fucking touch this, do you understand?!” He yells, and when you don’t answer, he yells louder—“Do you understand me?!”

Silence.

Then, a whimper escapes your lips as you cover your mouth, tears already running down your face. You quickly place the card back on the desk, before speed walking out of his office, hot, thick tears running down your face.

You’re so fucked, you think. You’re going to get fired. As if you hadn’t spent weeks getting paid to do practically nothing, you’re absolutely going to get fired now. Maybe you should just quit, save yourself the embarrassment, or, maybe you can get on your hands and knees—Absolutely beg Matt to forgive you.

You feel awful. You had heard bits and pieces of what had happened to the man on the card, of how it affected Matt. How they were best friends. How they had their own firm together. How that was destroyed in a matter of minutes.

And sure, Matt’s been a dick to you for a while now, but you have an intense empathy for him. You couldn’t even imagine how he feels.

You grab your jacket and your bag, and then you walk straight back to your apartment. You assume you’re fired. But instead of worrying about it or applying to more jobs, You open a big bottle of wine and sit with the record player on. You keep thinking about how fucked you are.

You fall asleep on your couch, still in your work clothes.

You wake up to your phone buzzing and the sun in your eyes. You glance at the caller ID, only to find.. Kirsten calling you. Probably to chew you out.

“Hello..?” You answer hesitantly, your head pounding.

“Hey, where are you? You’re usually here an hour ago,” You glance at the time. You’re not late, but you’re chronically early. “Everything okay?”

“Uh,” Then, it hits you.

Kirsten isn’t calling to chew you out. So, that means..

Matt didn’t fire you. He didn’t even tell her.

“Sorry,” You finally answer, “I slept through my alarm, but I’ll be there soon.” You tell her. You two say goodbye, and then, you take a second to breath, then, make a plan.

First, you chug a bottle of water, along with a dosage of ibuprofen. Then, you hop in the shower and change, before grabbing your things and making your into the office. Everyone continues what they’re doing, business as usual. You say nothing to anyone as you settle in. You feel crazy, like you’re not in on some joke.

Then, as you’re shuffling around, Matt appears in the door of his office. He calls your name. You jump, tightening your grip on your chair.

“Can we talk a second?”

“Uh, sure.” Your heartbeat is loud, thumping quickly.

You make it into his office and sit on a chair in front of his desk, as he leans against the desk next to you.

Then, he leans back to the desk and picks something up. Then, he hands it to you—and relief washes over you as you realize it’s a coffee.

You take it.

“Thank you.” You say genuinely, talking a long sip of coffee.

“Two splenda and half n half, right?”

You glance up at him.

“How do you know my coffee order?”

“Despite what you think, I pay attention.” He reveals. You feel silly.

You open your mouth to begin,

“I’m so—”

He holds up a hand, a quiet command to be quiet. Closing your mouth and waiting for him to speak is your first reaction, and you’re not sure how to feel about it.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes in, “I’ve been a dick to you, and last night I took it too far. You were just being kind and you didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have tried to push your boundaries,” You offer. He shakes his head.

“I’ve been mean every day since we first met. You don’t deserve that.” He inhales, “I’ve been such a dick because I’ve been.. stuck and stubborn, because the guy on the prayer card.. He was a..” Matt’s jaw clenches and he tilts his head away from you.

You don’t need Matt to finish. His grief, his love for Franklin Nelson, whoever he was, has outlived him. And it radiates off him in this moment.

“Can I ask you a question?” Your voice is quiet. Matt just nods. “And you can’t laugh at me or tell me I’m being an idiot, or—Whatever, you just have to answer.”

Matt’s lips just twinge up, only a bit.

“Mhm?”

A beat.

“..Can I give you a hug?” You wonder, and he just nods, and before his head is able to pick back up, your arms are wrapped around him. You squeeze tightly, and Matt returns your embrace. Your hand gently rubs his back as Matt lets himself be held for the firs time.. in, well, months.

The two of you stay like this for a while, before you pull away. Your hands come up to cup his face, wiping his tears from his face, resisting the urge to pull off his glasses to dry his eyes.

When his tears stall, you finally break the silence.

“Are you gonna be okay if I go back to work? I can stay here if you want me, but—”

“No.” He shakes his head, “Go ahead, go back to work. But, can I tell you a secret?”

“Hm?”

“Now that you’re my new secretary, I’m gonna have to whip you into shape,” He teases.

You pull away, swatting his chest lightly before grabbing your coffee.

“I hate you. Don’t bother me.” You joke back.

“I do really need the case notes on the Jason family and I need to know when my first meeting is,” He says as you walk out the door.

“10 am. I’ll get you the notes in five minutes, tops.”

Matt smiles as he goes back to his seat and begins to search for his headphones.

“Thank you, kid,”

“Oh, I hate that.” You call back.

Matt just laughs.

Yeah, maybe you’ll stick around for a couple more weeks. Just to see.

-

It happens slowly at first.

You’re hesitant to engage with each other, suddenly not used to this.

 His foot nudges against yours under the table at meetings. Sometimes on accident. Most of the time on purpose.

You bring him a breakfast sandwich.

He listens as you cry to him about an annoying witness you were assisting.

He touches your arm. You ignore a familiar, unnamed feeling.

You’re not sure when exactly you start to fall in love with him. But once you do, you find it impossible to stop.

You begin to fall asleep thinking about him whisking you away. Maybe just downtown. Maybe just to his office with the blinds closed and the door locked. Maybe to Scotland, to a castle where the two of you become the finest rulers in the land.

You find yourself just staring at him, and you’re right back to waiting for him like a lost puppy. You suppose there are worse fates than this.

Really, it’s not that bad.

You can just be a hopeless puppy following him around for the rest of your life. That’ll be fine. You tell yourself you’ll be fine.

Just ignore the way your stomach turns as Kirsten talks near your desk, just yapping about a date she went on, and then, out of nowhere, she asks,

“So what’re you looking for?”

“Huh?” You wonder, not fully paying attention.

“If you could go on a date with the perfect person, what would they be like?”

Your reaction is instantaneous. It’s instinctual. It’s incriminating.

Your head picks up, and your eyes lock onto Matt from across the office. He’s just shuffling through some old documents, but the way he focuses so intensely, a smile creeps up on your face before you can stop it.

When you realize what you’ve done, your eyes go wide, and you realize that Kirsten has followed your eyeline.

She starts to laugh.

“I knew it!”

“No, no! Kirsten,” You say, your voice now wobbly, “Kirsten, listen, you cannot say anything, you don’t know anything, just—” You’re panicking, because if Kirsten has found you out, your secret is no longer safe. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t tell Matt you—”

“Shhhut up!” You whine, your hands covering your face. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You’re so fucked.

Why do you keep thinking that in this office?

“Why? What would be so bad about—”

“I swear to god,”

“You won’t even let me say it out loud!” She laughs, and you feel pathetic.

“No, I won’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m just going to ignore it.”

“What?! Why?!”

“Because he has spent the past couple of months being mean to me and we’re only now starting to be nice to each other, I highly doubt he wants anything to do with me.”

“You know there’s this old saying,”

“I’m so sick of this conversation.” You grumble as you stand, gathering your things, and placing the list of Matt’s meetings on the top of it, preparing to make your way to his office.

“You’ll never know unless you try.” She finishes. You look to her. Then, you glance back to Matt.

“Just promise me you won’t say anything.”

“Promise me you will.”

You don’t respond, but you do knock on Matt’s door before you enter. Despite his apology and the relationship you’ve been developing, his words still ring in your head—Don’t come into his office without permission.

He answers, so you go in, and immediately, something in you relaxes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” You pretend he’s being more than friendly, “What’s up?”

“Uh,” You breath out, “I got your meeting schedule.” You offer him, and he smiles.

“Thanks. Did you get my email about the expert witness for the Doyle trial?”

“Yeah, I did. I’ll keep an eye out for a follow up. Don’t forget, it’s that intern, Sarah’s birthday, so say happy birthday.” You remind.

“Oh, right. Sarah.. She’s.. the one with the crush on me? She giggles every time I enter a room?”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah, I guess she does have a bit of a crush on you. Are you.. going to do anything about that?” You ask, as if you’re not brimming with jealousy.

He laughs.

“No, no. Date a coworker? It would get.. messy.” He blushes like he speaks from experience.

“Oh.” You attempt to hide your disappointment. You don’t do a very good job. “Okay, let me know if you need anything.” You smile weakly and turn to leave.

You stop in the doorway. You turn back to him.

“You would date me though, right?”

His head picks up immediately. He smiles a bit.

“What exactly are you asking me?”

“I’m your coworker, sure, but.. you’d date me, right?” You wonder.

His grin widens.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” He wonders, and gets up from his spot at his desk, taking a few steps towards you. You meet him in the middle, your hands coming out to smooth his tie.

“Do you want me to be asking you on a date?”

“As long as it’s not out to Chinese, I just had that last night.” He responds, and you roll your eyes with affection.

“Italian?”

“Overrated for a first date.”

“French?”

“No, I’m Irish, actually.”

“Oh my god, Matthew.”

“Okay, okay. Thai?”

“Perfect.” Of course, You don’t care where you get dinner. You just want to get dinner with him.

And you almost kiss him, right then and there, but you tell yourself that in front of all your coworkers? In this office with these giant offices?

“Let’s go right after work. We can leave together, around six?” He asks, and you can’t help but smile.

“Perfect.” You repeat.

-

By five forty-five, your last coworker to leave heads out, leaving just you and Matthew waiting for six. At five fifty, you pull your jacket on.

At five fifty-three, Matt comes out of his office, and smiles to you.

“Ready to go?”

“Ready.” You smile, and Matt holds out his arm, quietly asking you to guide him. You happily take it, and begin to ask, “Thai, right? Could I toss in sushi as an option or—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, because Matt leans his case next to your desk, before cupping your face with his free hand, and pressing his lips against yours, finally doing what he had been craving for months.

You tense at first, then you melt into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his tie before pulling him closer. It comes naturally to you, and you’re beginning to wonder why you waited so long to do this.

He deepens the kiss and for a moment before pulling away, his lips brushing against yours.

“Do you know how badly I want to skip dinner and take you right back to my apartment?”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in months, I don’t.. I don’t want to ruin it. I don’t want to even risk it..” he confesses, “So I want to take you out to a nice dinner, kiss you until you’re unable to think.. Then take you back to my apartment.”

You breath out deeply.

“One more kiss, and then we’ll go,”

Matt answers by kissing you again, his hands going to gently nudge you against your desk, unable to stop kissing you.

But, he hears no objections from you.

[bbyjackie]

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡

one piece social media + dating pt. 2 feat: zoro

♡ liked by ilovecottoncandychopper, S0U1K1NGBR00K and 6.5k others

_ynln: who are you where do you live how old are you why are you so fine how do you like your eggs cooked in the morning?

tagged: theroronoa.zoro

theroronoa.zoro: sorry i have a girlfriend

↳ _ynln: damn, not even one chance? 😔😔

↳ theroronoa.zoro: nah (liked by p1rateking_luffy)

sogekingg.usopp: is your boyfriend single (liked by p1rateking_luffy)

↳ _ynln: USOPP WTAF 😭

↳ _ynln: stop trying to steal my man, get your own bro

↳ sogeking.usopp: now i don't support homewrecking, but.. ☝️😋

↳ _ynln: BUT????

blackleg.sanji: PLEASE YN PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE 🧎🏼‍♂️🧎🏼‍♂️

↳ _ynln: no

lovenami: WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?!?

↳ lovenami: WE WERE MEANT TO MEET UP TWO HOURS AGO WHERE TF ARE YOU

↳ _ynln: SORRY NAMI IDK EITHER ZORO DRAGGED US SOMEWHERE AND WE GOT LOST 😭

♡ liked by FRAAANKY, trafalgar_d.law and 9.8k others

theroronoa.zoro: zoro. thousand sunny. 21. my gf invented me. like my eggs however yn likes them.

tagged: _ynln

jinbe: Very cute post (liked by nicorobin)

lovenami: anyone wanna jump off the ship w me?

↳ ace: yes 😁

blackleg.sanji: MY BEAUTIFUL GODDESS YN 💗💞💕💝❤️‍🔥

blackleg.sanji: I WILL DEDICATE MY LIFE TO YOU

_ynln: ZORO QWDHBIVEFBQOBJ

_ynln: i love u sm??

↳ theroronoa.zoro: apparently you don't cause why is there question marks

↳ _ynln: GEEZ OKAY I LOVE U 😭 (liked by theroronoa.zoro)

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: i hope y'all break up

↳ _ynln: DAMN KID WTF WHO HURT YOU

♡ liked by theroronoa.zoro, p1rateking_luffy and 10.3k others

_ynln: drinks on?

tagged: lovenami

lovenami: drinks were on that random guy at the club 😇😇

↳ blackleg.sanji: @theroronoa.zoro HOW DARE YOU NOT PROTECT THEM FROM CREEPS 🫵

↳ theroronoa.zoro: he was supplying all of us with drinks why would i chase the guy away

↳ lovenami: real, i wasn't gonna pay 400 berries for a pint 🥱

blackleg.sanji: THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMEN IN THE WORLD IN ONE PHOTO?? 😍😍😘

blackleg.sanji: what did i ever do to deserve this 😩��‼️

S0U1K1NGBR00K: May I see your panties?

↳ _ynln: absolutely not thanks (liked by lovenami, theroronoa.zoro)

p1rateking_luffy: LAST NIGHT WAS SO FUN 😄😄

p1rateking_luffy: THANKS FOR BUYING ME FOOD 💗

↳ _ynln: luffy wait what i didn't buy you anything?

↳ _ynln: OMFG DID YOU JUST DINE AND DASH???

♡ liked by _ynln, nicorobin and 17 others

[close friends]

theroronoa.zoro: nice 👍

blackleg.sanji: I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS

blackleg.sanji: I AM SO JEALOUS

_ynln: best nap ever (liked by theroronoa.zoro)

p1rateking_luffy: I wanted to play tag but you guys were sleeping?

ilovecottoncandychopper: Yn looks like she gives good hugs! (liked by theroronoa.zoro)

↳ _ynln: CHOPPER GIVE ME HUGS ANYTIME ❣️❣️

sogeking.usopp: get this off my timeline right NOW 🫵

↳ _ynln: WHY ARE YOU GUYS SUCH HATERS 😭😭

[floralcyanide]

ᴜʟᴛʀᴀᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ― ᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴏɴᴀʟᴅsᴏɴ

sugar daddy!art donaldson x afab!sugar baby!reader (nsfw)

a short introduction to you and art's relationship.

⤳ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, mutual orgasm, penetrative sex, age gap (reader is mid 20s)

⤳ word count: 0.4k

⤳ author’s note: I have been struggling to write anything for weeks now and this sorta poured out of me. it's not much but I think I may make this into a blurb series. maybe. idk yet. I'm sorry it's definitely not what y'all wanted or expected. it's not for me either, but I think if I don't do the blurb series, this will be the beginning of my hiatus for now. much love!

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴ��ᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇ��ᴛɪᴏɴ

Art had ripped off the cute outfit he had picked out for you in a pinch, and it hadn’t even been on for more than ten minutes. Today at practice, he had tentatively braided your hair into two plaits after the rubber band holding your ponytail snapped clean off. Now, he’s gripping them with fervor as he slams into you from behind. Your ass is up in the air with your back arched as perfectly as you can muster despite your sore muscles from earlier. The mix of your pleasure seeping out of you as Art pounds into your welcoming cunt echoes in the room, along with the front of his thighs smacking the backs of yours.

“Just like that,” he leans down to growl in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, hmm? You like me pulling your hair like this?”

You nod, whimpering an incoherent response as you’re delirious from the feeling of Art driving his cock into you. It’s hard to form words at this point. Art chuckles cockily, shoving your face down into the very mattress that he sleeps on every night with his wife. This fact doesn’t slip far from your mind the entire evening or didn’t every evening before this. Tashi, however, didn’t care. As long as you and Art focus on your aspiring tennis career, you can do as you please at the end of the day. Tashi saw herself in you. And after all, there had been an agreement. Art would care for you in numerous ways as long as you played tennis and were coached by him and Tashi. Everything was fine this way and has been for a little while.

Art lands a harsh smack to your right asscheek before gripping it to ground his thoughts, driving himself deeper inside your fluttering walls until he eventually hits your cervix. You elicit a sharp cry at the feeling of unbridled pleasure at the sensation, causing Art to repeat his exact motion over and over until you cum around him, your orgasm washing over you in violent waves. Art finally cums shortly after as the feeling of you losing control underneath him sends him over the edge. You lay on your stomach on the bed, catching your breath as your eyes are heavily shut and unwilling to open. Art runs a hand down your back soothingly, giving you a moment while he pads to the bathroom to retrieve something to clean you up with. 

You still can’t get entirely used to someone taking care of you like this. And for now, you’re going to relish it to its full extent. 

[vaaaaaiolet]

Here, we happen upon a specimen of Homo sapiens in a most vulnerable state. He appears to be utterly besotted with his wife at the risk of his livelihood. Distracted, exhausted, and borderline hallucinating, he's left open to attack from every angle. Including that of the object of his affections, it seems.

In which Leon nearly naps through a debrief and you give him a run for his money.

mdni [insert tiktok GET OUT audio]. married f / m smut feat. the same agent au from mbotcd. a dash of plot w your porn if you please. whipped leon pov where his bamf wife pounces on him LMAO. bjs, jerking him off, and no refractory period yay!!! slight cumplay + dacryphilia?? cavity-inducing p in v à la missionary. banter and praise bordering on body worship. 1 sec of overstim. corny plot twist. honestly just marriage kink. i hate myself too. also you wear a necklace + bracelet cause u cute like that :3

a/n: “vivi wtf you keep writing the sam-” let’s get this straight. i #needthat. i’ve been #needingthat. this is a month’s worth of thirst condensed into a GROSS FUCKING FIC that i’m actually so embarrassed about please don’t look at me. i want this man's dick so bad it makes me ill. and dicks are scary ok. nevertheless, i persevere in my journey to suck leon off with mixed results. enjoy the ride <3 + many many kisses to the most kickass writer i know @comatosebunny09 for inspiring bamf reader :,) leon nation has MISSED YOU LMFAOOO

word count: 3.2k (WE BEAT THE 2.9K TRENCHES Y'ALL!!) // read on ao3

It’s only after you finally shoo your guests out the front door that Leon can plunge into the living room loveseat and let out a sigh akin to that of a sinking ship’s. Or at least shooing is the way he’d have done it – his darling’s too perfect a hostess to dream of doing that.

Goddamn. Leon pulls a hand down his face hard enough to resemble Munch’s Scream painting. He thought they’d never leave: the eye-twitchingly pedantic DSO busybodies who had no business interrupting the sanctity of his home on a Friday afternoon, and an unbearably sleepy one at that. 

Sunshine had dripped down the living room windows slower than molasses while two analysts blabbered on and on about some stupid recon intel from his last mission. One cookie after the other had disappeared from a tray laid out with Leon’s secret stash. And to make things worse, an hour in, you’d started glaring daggers his way when his head started bobbing. It made for a scene dangerously reminiscent of Sunday service as a kid.

So what if this Sensitive Compartmented Blah Blah Blah needed to be discussed at the DSO’s earliest convenience? What about Leon’s convenience? He’d handled confidential business before. He checks his email on time. Most of the time. 

But the hard part’s over now, thank the Lord. Leon can peel off the imaginary Scotch tape from his eyelids and instead appreciate the magnificent view his wife makes walking back from the foyer in her company best. 

Now that’s something he wouldn’t mind discussing at length over tea. 

Crimson silk whispers down the length of your legs when you throw yourself over the arm of the couch opposite him. Leon snickers; kicks up his feet on his own loveseat in solidarity. Falling onto the cushions, you let out a gutted yawn that couldn’t possibly befit the gracious lady of the house who was just insisting your guests stay for dinner. 

He can’t not tease you about it. 

You remind him that he’s lucky his ass didn’t snooze himself out of a job. The threat cuts less considering how funny you sound, muffled from the sherpa throw you’ve planted your face into. You were at it for hours, holding down the fort while your husband zoned out. One more word out of him and you’ll conveniently lose the files he needs for his upcoming assignment.  

Oof. Leon knows not to negotiate unarmed.

Anyway, he’s not too keen on arguing with Sleeping Beauty. Can’t help but chuckle when you tuck your hands flat under your cheek like a Precious Moments figurine. He crosses his arms, watches you curl up your legs and declare to nobody in particular that you’re only resting your eyes before figuring out dinner, and knowing all too well what’s to follow, Leon waits. 

Three…two…one. 

Out like a light. He could’ve snapped on it. 

They tuckered his baby right out. Picture of an angel, fast asleep as sunlight streams onto the carpet and the houseplants don’t notice a thing. Lashes flashing gold in the rays, fluttering with each soft breath you take. You look as if you could sleep for a thousand years.   

With his own head heavy with the five o’clock sun, Leon’s inclined to share the sentiment. He’s close to dozing off too. It’s just…he’s having a little trouble shutting his eyes now that those pests from work are gone and he’s free to stare unabashedly at what actually held his attention all afternoon.

You shift in your sleep – innocent as a lamb, were it not for the bare leg you kick out right then. 

Leon stifles a punched-out groan by the skin of his teeth. 

Your dress rides up just high enough for him to peek at the pretty thighs hiding underneath. Leon might have to call over company more often if it meant you’d wear that again, damn his cookie stash. A lean forward and shit, he’s seeing lace. Lace he wants between his teeth.

The rational part of his brain chides, she’s exhausted. Don’t even think about it.

Leon rebels. He can’t help his hungry eyes from devouring upwards from there. Right over the enticing plush of your hips, the curve of your stomach. Up to your darling face with a few pit stops along the way. 

Do you have any idea how cute you pout when you’re trying to squeeze the sunlight out of your eyes? Or that you finger your favorite necklace, lulling yourself to sleep? It rests over the slope of your breasts, a privilege he’s always nursed a smattering of jealousy about, and Leon isn’t saying he meant to stare for as long as he does at the pendant playing peek-a-boo between the valley of your- 

Fuck it. Yeah, he’s looking. Perving over the prettiest angel he ever did see. He won’t be calling God and returning you to heaven anytime soon. No hard feelings, big guy. 

Said necklace glitters in the fading radiance of the afternoon sun as Leon huffs this particular thought to himself, readjusting his jeans. And then he frowns. Maybe it’s his sleep-addled brain, but he could swear the necklace winks at him.

It’s then that a pair of beautiful eyes – who should very much be closed – flutter open. 

Fantastic. You woke her up. 

It takes you a second. Slumber still weighs heavy on your poor neck. You stretch out your arms, yawning into the back of your hand. Leon’s already workshopping an apology by the time you wipe your mouth to taste the fleeting remnants of your five-minute nap. 

It must’ve been all that moaning and groaning of his, goddamn it. Subtlety’s never been his strong suit. Leon should say sorry. Apologize to the fawn in the woodland clearing for tearing into her dreams like the great, lumbering bear he is. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He drops his voice to a rueful whisper, ducking slightly to meet your line of sight. “Did I wake you up?”

Your gaze doesn’t lift. “...wasn’t sleeping.”

He has the tact to hold back his snort this time. Right, you were resting your eyes. How about he gets you to bed? He hears they’re practically made for eye resting. Or something along those lines.

“Don’t wanna.”

He literally watched you pass out on the couch. You want a crick in your neck that bad?

“I’ll tell you what I want,” comes your defiant grumble, and with a toss of your gorgeous head, Leon’s heart skips. 

You kick out your other leg. Your feet touch the ground with a determined click of your heels. That hip-hugging dress doesn’t do a damn thing to slow you down. A few strides later, you’ve suddenly got the upper hand, towering over his slumped form on the loveseat. Sporting a wicked, wide-awake gleam in your eyes if he wasn’t seeing things. Was he?

You drop to a crouch next to his befuddled head, pivot one-eighty; gather your hair over one bare shoulder. Press the sash of your dress into his palm, deceptively coy. 

“Want you to help with this,” you purr. 

Honeypot voice.

He blinks. 

If Leon knows what’s good for him, he ought to run for the hills. He hasn’t heard you talk like that since Santorini 2016. Something’s off here. Either he’s done something very, very wrong, or something very right. That mission ended with the barrel of your Sentinel Nine jabbed into a handsy thug’s ribs. Years of failed attempts at breakfast in bed flash through Leon’s memories to remind him that you don’t take being woken up lightly. The sash cinching your waist is stoplight red. Likely for a reason. 

So Leon pulls it. 

You try holding still when a smokeshow orders you to strip her, for God’s sake.

The dress falls apart like a dream. Leon’s mouth goes dry watching you slip off a matching set of skimpy underthings. Wearing nothing but that delicate chain that dangles over your décolletage and a tennis bracelet on your wrist – an anniversary present bought to mirror your strength – that sparkles in the sun, you cock a hand on your bare hip. 

Leon sits bolt upright. He’s loaded with a million and one questions, but you’re moving like you’re trying to outrun those Greek thugs again. You don’t give him a chance. When you clamber onto the couch and settle yourself right between the stunned spread of his legs, all he can do is sputter like a rusty engine. His belt falls apart in merry, metallic clinks at your clever fingers. Your dress drops into a forgotten puddle on the floor next to his melted brain. 

“Woah, woah, woah.” Leon grips onto your forearms when you dig your nails into the waistband of his jeans. Wide blue eyes peer into yours, a dumbfounded grin tugging at your husband’s mouth. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’re you- what’re you doing?”

You huff, tugging harder at his waistband. “Want these off, duh.”

“But what’s with the sudden-”

“I don’t entertain for free. This,” your hand darts to cup the bulge he’s been wrangling with for a while now, “is what I want in return for sitting through that boring-ass debrief with you nodding off the whole time instead of listening to anything they were saying. And I know you're going to forget and ask me about the intel later.”

Point taken. He did need to work on his subtlety. 

“Actually, if I’d done this earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten bored.” You hum as if this were a mildly interesting work conversation. “Nothing crazy like sucking you off under the coffee table. I could’ve needed your help getting a file out of the garage, and then...or is that too cliché?”

What kind of porno plot is this? 

“Bold claim to make, doll.” Leon fumbles to take off his jeans in poorly concealed excitement at what that could mean. His denim gets thrown off the couch, courtesy of your ever-so-helpful hands. 

“What, you think I’d put you to sleep instead?” you giggle. 

By sucking out his soul? Maybe. 

You perch yourself on his bare thigh. 

Straddling is great. Comfortable even. Your thighs press all plushy on either side of his leg and that’s fine and dandy, but right now, Leon’s scared shitless that you might slide clean off him – you’re that fucking wet. When did you let it get this bad? You’d squelch moving an inch, for fuck’s sake. Look at you, talking big when your head was just as elsewhere as his.

Leon wraps a steadying arm around your hips with his heart beating out of his chest. It’s only when you lean over his chest to steady yourself that he can let out a shudder of relief. A brief one, of course. Apparently you’ve made it your mission so that he never knows peace a day in his life.

Your bracelet-adorned hand slips into his boxers, curling around the base of his cock with a playful squeeze of his balls. Testing, testing, is this thing on? 

Leon’s throaty groan is your go-ahead to fish out his length. 

The soft O of your cupped hand starts to pump him, slow at first. A gentle up-and-down that has him tipping his neck backwards over the armrest. Leon doesn’t need to look to feel himself standing prouder with each slickening pass of your palm, but he does anyway to see the flash of your wedding ring while you work. Pretends the sight doesn’t make his dick jump. And hell, if you don’t flash him that pretty smile of yours when you notice, squeezing harder. Didn’t know he married himself a succubus.

“God…” he breathes. Cards a hand through your hair with a tenderness that makes your clamped knees buckle. 

Leon hasn’t got much time left. You’ve figured that out too, dropping a kiss to his rosy tip when the blurts of precome start running down the back of your hand. You quickly swipe a thumb over the mess; leave a trail down his leg, scooching down and gasping at the friction on your clit. You pop your lips over the head of his cock like it’s a fruit punch sucker. 

Fuck. Has he ever told you how much he loves your mouth? All spit-slick when you’re blinking more please? 

You inch his length down your throat, soft little gags bubbling past your lips. Doe eyes glossy from the stretch. You’ve got to stop giving him that angel stare before he starts straight-up fucking your face to watch your tears roll. Leon settles for sweeping your hair into a ponytail instead, barely resisting the urge to roll his hips into the wet heat engulfing him. Maybe it’s for the best. He’d get off too quick otherwise and he needs the time to pick between painting your pretty face or your pretty tits white. Decisions, decisions. 

“So good for me, baby.” Leon pants over the soft suckling sounds of you speeding up at the gesture. “Oh, fuck. Wait, sweetheart, I-” 

His breathing turns shallow in seconds. His lower stomach twitches, shitshitshit – he’s coming. Face flushed and mouth moaning wide open when he spills down your throat. 

You pull off his twitching cock, smiling like the cat that got the cream with some dribbling down the corner of your mouth to boot. Then you go ahead and fucking blow on him like you want bubbles from a Blow Pop. His lingering sensitivity makes him shake like a leaf. You’d planned this, hadn’t you?

“Fuckin’ hell, woman.” Leon chuckles softly, using the pad of his thumb to wipe your lips clean. “Happy?”

You answer with a satisfied flutter of your cum-pearled lashes. Cute.

“Good. Cause now it’s my turn.”

Didn’t think you could get away with him making a mess of himself alone, did you? You’d been squirming on his leg the whole time. Poor baby let her mission get in the way of her needs again. So to return the favor, Leon flips you over. Climbs on top.

You turn starry-eyed with your back to the cushions, beaming when he pushes your thighs apart. You’re fussy just the way he likes you when you plead pleasepleaseplease. All riled up just from sucking him off, huh? This won’t take long.

The scent of your arousal is heady. Earthy like sugary petrichor. Makes his head spin. He’s picking up on it more than ever after that orgasm cleared his head like a gunshot. He runs two fingers down your dewy folds to rediscover just how much you taste like linen sheet trysts with a Do Not Disturb sign permanently stuck to your hotel room door.

“I gotcha, honey,” Leon soothes your breathy whimpers. Kisses you slow, easing into your weeping entrance. “I’m right here. Oh, I know.”

First is the initial head-under-water feeling of sinking into you. So good it hurts. Then comes the caramel stretch of you wrapping around him. He’s gotta make sure of the fit, you know? Leon lines a teasing finger around the stretched lips of your cunt struggling to take him whole. 

You anchor your hands into his hair in response. Good enough.

Your gasps ghost over the hollow of his throat, your breath slowing to match the languid pace of his starting thrusts. The ache Leon rocks into your hips takes out the one in his back, he swears. He wants to die just like this. Buried inside you if he can help it.

“Close, close-” You’re keening before you know it. That telltale squeeze of silken muscle Leon knows so well follows your squeak of, “Oh!” 

“Go on, sweet girl,” he coos, “come for me.”

You milk him, petal soft. And aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. You’re a mewling mess underneath him, trying and failing to not dig your nails into his scar-strewn shoulders. Don’t you know it never hurts when it’s you? 

Leon rolls his hips into yours to lengthen the euphoria of your velvet walls clenching him so tight. By some miracle, he’s still keyed up from earlier. He’s got this nasty vision in his head of thumbing his spend back into you, of liquid pearls sliding down your gaping slit and slowly puddling onto the couch. You won’t waste a drop. You never do. Fuck, he’s throwing off his rhythm just thinking about it. 

A quiet sob of his name interrupts his train of thought. Shit, Leon had forgotten you just came. He must be toeing overstim territory by now. 

“Just a little more, you take it so well, just-”

Leon’s vision fizzes and pops at the edges. He drops his head down to see your eyes all scrunched up, clutching his forearm with one hand and your necklace with the other, anything to tide you over the assault on your oversensitive cunt. Breaking his heart, but Leon’s almost there, he’s so sorry, angel, it’ll be over soon, and- there it is, that eye-rolling whip of pleasure in his gut-

“Leon?” 

His eyes fly open.

“Are you okay?!” 

When had he closed them?

Leon blinks back stars. The living room’s plunged in dying daylight. He’s laid out on the couch with his back feeling stiffer than a sarcophagus. You’re kneeling next to him with a palm pressed to his forehead and worry souring your expression. But the scariest part of the entire scene might be the fact that you’re still fully dressed, the pendant nestled between your breasts glinting as if mocking him. What. 

“You started scrunching up your face and kicking around,” you frown, smoothing back his sweaty bangs. “I thought you were kidding about falling asleep after they left. ”

Leon claps a palm over his face.

“Were you having a nightmare?” 

More like he woke up to one. 

“Gosh, it sounded like you were having a real nice dream before that. You were all smiley in your sleep, babe.”

He coughs weakly. “Something like that.” 

“Hm. Well,” you clap your hands cheerily, “I think something to eat might make you feel better.”

“Yeah?”

“Turns out that nap really helped me figure out dinner. I ordered pizza a little bit ago, actually. I was just taking the boxes into the kitchen when I heard you in here.”

Heard. Damn. He wasn’t even going to ask about that. Leon nods, stuck in a dismal, nebulous haze of disappointment. He’ll be right there.

A slow smile tugs at your lips. “And maybe changing out of these,” you glance at his legs, “might help too.” 

Your hand lifts from Leon’s forehead to drag down his chest. Innocent and light at first, just smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt, and then down, down, down over his stomach to rest over the rather conspicuous patch of soaked denim at the crotch of his jeans. And if that wasn’t enough for Leon’s eyes to bulge out of his head, you give the spot a very déjà vu squeeze before walking off.

You can barely hide your giggle on the way out. “Meet me in the kitchen?”

Leon swings his legs over the edge of the couch. Claps his hands to his knees before he catches your contagious smile. 

Sure, he can. He’s been meaning to buy a centerpiece for the kitchen island for the longest time. Y’know, pretty the place up for when guests come over. 

He might just have to start with you.

psst, find more of my work here!

likes kill fics :( comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and ily!

[luvyeni]

p. bf!bang chan x fem!reader | warnings: established relationship, unprotected sex, riding | words: 0.5k ~ (546) 🐺ㆍ₊⊹

request: no request, someone said this is the view from when you're riding him and my brain went haywire 😵‍💫

authors note. i love him y'all don't understand

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

There wasn’t many day where chan could do this; the busy idol life had him constantly on his feet, never giving him a chance to just lay back and close his eyes— that’s why he enjoyed his days off.

Especially when you walk into your shared room, straddling in his waist, lifting his tank top up, kissing his toned stomach. his eyes opened, meeting yours— his smile making your heart fluttering. “hi baby.” his voice deep from sleep. “hi channie.”

You moved to his neck, kissing right behind his ear. “mmmh baby girl what are you doing right now?” he sighed. “i missed you channie.” you pouted. “im here baby.” his hands rest on his head. “but you still need to ask for what you want.” he kissed your cheek, you whimpered. “wanna ride you.”

“yeah?” he groaned, feeling your hips moving against his clothed cock. “that seems like a demand baby.” he teased, giggling when you whined in his ear. “so cute baby, but you still need to ask.” you pouted. “please.” you desperately pleaded. “please can i ride you?” you took your shirt off, your nipple pebbling at the air.

he cursed, his hand coming up to your boobs. “good girl, take out my cock.” he released your boob, letting you move down, lifting his hips; allowing you to pull his pants down, his cock slapping against his stomach. “you’re so hard.” he moaned when your hands wrapped around his length, stroking him. “fu-fuck baby, it's because of you.”

You pulled your shorts and panties to the side, moving up; hovering over his cock. “go a head sit down on it baby.” biting his pillowy lips as your cunt swallowed him. “oh fuck, sit on it all the way.” you moaned out, his cock filling you up. “fuuuuck , there you go baby, now ride it baby.”

You slowly rocked your hips back and forth, moaning out his name. “fu-fuck so big.” His hips involuntarily bucked up into you, his eyes shut tightly as you took over, your hands on his chest. “sh-shit baby girl, faster.” he moaned as you sped up your pace, your tight hole squeezing him. he forced his eyes open to look at you, wishing he didn’t because it only pushed his orgasm further, your titties bouncing back and forth; head thrown back as you began to bounce on me. “oh fuck -fuck- baby im about to cum.”

You kept moving, your clit rubbing against his pelvic bone, both of you gasping out as you both teetered on the edge. “please cum inside me -fuck- i want it, i want it so bad.” Your voice desperate. “of fuck, fuck im cumming!” he cursed, his orgasm triggering yours. “fuck!” you toppled over as your orgasm hitting you hard, his arms coming from behind his head, holding you steady as you came down from your high.

“fuck baby.” he chuckled tiredly, his chest rising. “i don’t think you’ve ever ridden me like that before.” Your head resting on his chest. “i told you i missed you, you’ve been so busy baby.” he rubbed your lower back. “i know baby, i know im sorry.” he kissed your forehead. “i’ll trying and get time off more often.” you smiled, placing kisses on his pecks. “thank you baby.”

“now come on baby, let’s get all cleaned up so we can cuddle.”

©️LUVYENI

[chuusmuts]

imagine kazuscara breeding you

smut. afab reader, threesome, cockwarming, fingering, nipple play, praising, overstimulation, breeding, mention of pregnancy, not proofread.

happy late birthday, scarawrmooche. please let me be your bride again this year <3. also, if you think this fic is not good, then it's y'all faults for voting kazuscara threesome 😐.

it was a cold night, another night where you straddled on kazuha's lap, cockwarming him as he read you a lewd scene from your favourite novel. swallowing your saliva, your eyes were wide, and ears perked up as you listened attentively to him. it hadn't gone to the peak part, yet you could already feel your cheeks heating up from the scene. especially when you're imagining both scaramouche and kazuha fucking you mercilessly just like from the novel.

your dream soon turned out to be true as you found yourself laying naked on the double king-sized bed with both men by your sides, kazuha cupping your perfect breast in his hand, teasing the sensitive nipple with his thumb while scaramouche moved closer behind you, his erection pressing against your back as he reached down to grasp your other breast firmly, massaging it softly while stroking your cunt slowly with his free hand.

it was scaramouche's idea if you're wondering. when he saw the sight of you sitting on his very pretty husband, kazuha's lap while cockwarming him, his cock immediately straightened and stand up straight. with you fully naked, your plump breasts and your tasty cunt showing like that, let me just say it was a great idea for him to breed you right now and then. kazuha was a fan of saying no if he was asked to breed you. and letting scaramouche fuck you while he sleep alone? there's no way he would allow that.

your soft whimpers were muffled as kazuha pulled you and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue invading your mouth. your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you felt both of your breasts being squeezed, your nipples hardening immediately when they pinched the soft buds. the sheet underneath you was slowly getting wet as your juices coated it all while scaramouche glided his fingers along your cunt. you rolled your hips slightly, unable to control yourself as you wanted more and more.

kazuha pulled away from your lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucked and licked at your bottom lip. he looked like he was trying to keep himself from laughing or grinning too much. the way he looked at you made it clear that he found you irresistible and couldn't help but feel amused by your innocence and cuteness. as he pulled away from your mouth, he let go of your breast and grabbed your thigh, pulling it open just enough for him to slide two fingers inside you, causing a soft gasp to leave your lips. he started to fuck you with his fingers. "my cute little wife, you're so beautiful when you're like this." he whispered seductively while scaramouche continued to play with your breast and cunt. your legs were spread wide, making it easy for him to access every part of you.

kazuha groaned, feeling the warmth of your insides wrap around his finger as he stroked your g-spot. meanwhile, scaramouche inched his lips closer to your breast to latch on it. he took one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling on it hungrily and used his index finger to stimulate your clit. you could feel their combined efforts pushing you higher and higher, each touch causing more and more pleasure to rush through your body.

scaramouche bit down gently on your nipple, causing you to whimper. he then released your nipple and began to lick and suck at the skin around it, his tongue swirling around your areola before he took your entire nipple into his mouth again, sucking on it while he rubbed your clit faster. kazuha was also speeding up his fingers as he thrusted his fingers inside your cunt. it was a sensory overload for you, and all you could do was pant and moan as you felt their hands and tongues on your body pleasuring and fucking you.

you were writhing underneath them, your breath coming in short gasps as they pushed you closer and closer to orgasm. your walls clamped tight around kazuha's fingers as your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking followed by a loud cry. you panted heavily when you finally calmed down from your orgasm. kazuha pulled his fingers out of you but scaramouche was still rubbing your clit and sucking on your nipple. "s�� scara..." needily, you moaned but were quickly quiet down as he shushed you gently. "be a good wife and shut your pretty lips for us, will you?"

scaramouche grinned wickedly as he leaned back, pulling your legs up so that your legs were wrapped tight around his waist. he grabbed your hips and lifted you slightly, guiding your dripping pussy to his cock. with a strong push, he impaled himself inside of you, groaning at the feeling of your wet heat surrounding him as you cried out in bliss. your walls were wrapped tightly around his cock. so tight, so good... you tilted your head back in pleasure as a bead of sweat formed on your forehead.

he started to move slowly, savouring the sensation of being inside of you. "oh god... i love you so much," he whispered, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. kazuha watched as scaramouche took control, lovingly pushing his cock into you while he kissed you deeply. he moved his hands to your breasts, squeezing them and massaging your sensitive nipples. it didn't take long for him to feel his own arousal growing, and he decided not to wait any longer.

without hesitation, he grabbed hold of your hips and pushed his length into you from behind with a loud groan, stretching your walls apart, causing another loud cry to escape your lips. your nails dugged into scaramouche's, back, scratching on his skin as you get sandwiched between them, fucking relentlessly into your holes. "you're so tight, so good for us. such a good wife you are." kazuha muttered before biting on your neck, leaving red and purple marks.

puddle of tears pricked in your eyes as drool streamed down in the corner of your lips, falling onto scaramouche's neck. at that moment, you couldn't think of anything. they fucked you until you get hazy, too overwhelmed with pleasure. the sound of kazuha's voice praising you from behind were quick to drown into your mind as your eyes rolled back to the back of your head until you could see stars.

the air was thick with lust and desire as your body shook with pleasure while they continued to thrust into you. the sound of flesh meeting flesh mixed with your moans was loud, and it seemed to drive them both wild with desire. their cocks slapped against your insides as they pounded into you, and soon enough, they felt your body start to tremble in anticipation of an intense orgasm.

scaramouche pulled out just a little bit, giving you a brief reprieve before slamming back into you. ss he did so, he felt your walls clench down on him, making him gasp in surprise. his thrusts became more forceful, driving his cock deeper into your depths as he lost himself in the moment. one firm thrust from scaramouche brought you to ecstasy as you couldn't help but moan and cry out while you climaxed.

scaramouche's hips bucked forward violently, driving his cock deep into your throbbing walls. he let out a low growl of pleasure, feeling your walls clench around him tightly as you came undone in a wave of blissful release. the sensation sent shivers down his spine, and he knew that he was just moments away from his own climax. meanwhile, kazuha continued to pound into you from behind, his movements becoming increasingly frantic as he tried to match the intensity of your pleasure. his cock pulsed inside of you, sending jolts of electricity throughout your entire body. with every stroke, he could feel his own orgasm building up, threatening to consume him entirely.

and that high he had desperately been chasing finally came over him as his cum penetrated into your womb, filling it to the fullest, making you cry out loud for the third time in the same night. as kazuha's orgasm hit, his body tensed up, and he groaned in relish as his seed shot into you like a rocket. his hot semen flooded your insides, causing your walls to contract and pulse around his cock. the sensation was exquisite, and he could feel his balls emptying themselves into you, filling you up even further with each passing second. you were a bottomless pit of love and passion, and he couldn't get enough of you or this moment. "take our seed and make sure you get pregnant, okay?" he spoke softly. as the intensity of his orgasm began to subside, kazuha found himself unable to maintain his pace. he slowed down slightly, letting out a few more groans as he continued to pound into you.

scaramouche was the last to cum. his orgasm was equally intense, if not more so than kazuha's. as his cock thrusted against your insides, he could feel his own seed pouring into you, and he let out a loud, long moan as he emptied himself into you. the sensation was overwhelming, and he could barely breathe as his orgasm took hold of him. his body trembled with the force of his release, and he felt his muscles tighten around your entrance as he continued to pump his seed into you.

as his cock gradually softened, he pulled back a little bit, giving you some space to breathe and recover from your own climax. but the intensity of the experience left him tired and spent, and he could barely keep his eyes open as he looked at your flushed and sweaty face with a smirk, a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. "what an obedient wife." he laid his head on your fluffy boobs in exhaustion, but he wasn't planning to stop, neither did kazuha. after all, one round won't guarantee that you'd get pregnant, wouldn't it?

[callme-holly]

I NEED I NEED a sweet soft domestic dallas. i need it. i crave it. idc if its out of character. i live, breathe, eat, sleep, a cute soft dallas winston. so if u will, please and thank you write dallas with fem reader where she needs picked up from her house bc her parents are kicking her our OR bc they are fighting and she doesn’t wanna be there (you choose!) and dallas is teeth rotting sweet and soft with her.

ilysm!!!❤️🙏🏼

𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 [𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚/𝐧 : IM LOVING THIS PLEASE GIVE ME MORE SWEET REQUESTS LOVE Y'ALL

The familiar rumble of an engine pulls you from your thoughts, cutting through the muffled yelling coming from the house behind you as it rolls to a stop in front of your gate. It’s sleek red paintwork in scratch and dented in places, and one of the headlights is out, but you’re relieved to see it all the same. 

Before you can process what’s happening, you’re already on your feet, moving instinctively. You jog across the front yard, ignoring the way your heart pounds and the blood rushes in your ears, not stopping until you collide with Dallas, tucking yourself into his chest the second he steps out of the car. 

He grunts a little in surprise but wraps his arms around you anyway, holding you steady as you catch your breath.

“You called?” He mumbles, his voice husky and rough with sleep, and you’d almost feel bad for waking him if you didn’t need him as much as you do now. Almost. You pull away enough so that you can look up at him, searching his features for any sign of annoyance or irritation, but strangely, you find nothing but fondness and what looks like it could be concern. 

“Yeah… They’re fighting again. Didn’t want to be in the house.” 

Dallas nods in understanding, squeezing you a fraction tighter before letting go completely, exposing you to the biting chill of winter once more. He doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t question why your parents are fighting or how long you've been sitting out of the porch, just waiting. Instead, he bundles you into the car, closing the door for you and going around to climb into the driver's side. You watch as he adjusts his seatbelt, something he only ever seems to do when you're riding with him, then he turns the key and the car roars to life, pulling away from the curb and speeding down the street. 

The heater is broken again if the cold air inside the vehicle is anything to go by, and you’d almost go as far as saying it was warmer outside than in here. The windows are fogged over, making it near impossible to see anything outside, everything passing in a muted blur, and while you know the roads like the back of your hand, you feel strangely lost in that moment.

“They’ll be back to normal again tomorrow,” Dallas says suddenly, startling you and bringing you back to the chilling interior of the car. His eyes are focused steadily on the road, but the way he clenches the wheel tells you everything he needs to know: he’s angry for you, angry that all your parents seem to do is yell and scream and tear you down with words that aren't even meant for you but still hurt you in a way you wouldn’t think possible. 

“I know,” you tell him quietly, letting your head rest against the cool glass of the window, letting out a long breath. “I just… I don’t know.” 

There is silence for some time after that, and you watch the flicker of colour and lights streak by outside the misty window; the quiet hum of the engine and shifting gears are the only sounds besides the thud of your heart in your chest. Dallas’ hand comes to rest on your thigh, his thumb tracing back and forth in a gentle manner that nobody would think him capable of managing. It's soothing and calming, a reminder that he’s there, and you’re safe, that everything will sort itself out for better or for worse. 

“It’s gonna be alright.” His voice has softened considerably, and he almost doesn’t sound like himself—too tender and kind. It doesn’t suit him, not at all, but you find it nice all the same.

“How do you know?” You glance over at him, barely turning your head, your movements growing lazy as the exhaustion takes over, your limbs growing heavy, and your mind as hazy as the fog steaming the windshield. 

Dallas shrugs, swallowing heavily. “Because you got me. And I won't let anything’ happen to you. Not without a fight.” 

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, and butterflies stir in your stomach, fluttering wildly. He smiles at you, warm and genuine, and you can’t help but return it, watching the way his eyes crinkle slightly in the corners, his face lighting up in a way it very rarely does. 

A warmth settles around you, one that dashes away the freezing cold settling in your bones, and you don’t bother fighting it, content to let it engulf you, too mesmerized by the lingering calm expression on his face to care. 

He’s got you, and you’re safe as long as you’re with him.

[leclerc-hs]

snowballs - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem) summary: in which you bake cookies with charles and his daughter but still end up on your knees warnings: some cute fluff?, 18+, slight smut, oral (m-receiving), bad french (please correct me!!! i don't speak french), not proofread word count: 1,342 author's note: merry christmas eve (ya filthy animals) lmaooo. also loling at the title. leaving this here for y'all. single dad Charles has me in a complete chokehold. this is not a part 2, just a little Christmas themed drabble if you wanna call it that. if you didn’t read THIS yet, then go do it.

french edits made by @dannyramirezwife !!! (my angel)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE AIR WAS filled with the sweet scent of pine and cinnamon, instantly putting you in a festive mood as soon as you arrived today. Soft, twinkling lights adorn the walls and windows, casting a warm and inviting glow throughout the space. Throughout the apartment, the sound of classic Christmas tunes plays softly in the background.

The kitchen, where all three of you stood, was pure chaos. Bowls varying sizes are strewn across the countertops, each bearing the remnants of different stages of the baking process. A mixing bowl, its sides smeared with sticky remnants of cookie dough, sits next to a flour-dusted measuring cup. Multiple trays of already baked cookies, sat cooling atop the stove. It truly was a mess.

“Papa! Vous ne pouvez pas manger ça!” You can’t eat those! She exclaimed in fits of laughter. Her face was absolutely covered in ingredients. No doubt from sneaking licks of cookie dough and frosting when she thought that nobody was looking. Flour coated her hands and arms, and some had found its way to her rosy cheeks.

“Ils sont pour le Père Noël!” They’re for Santa! You agreed with her. Swatting him with one of the Christmas themed hand towels that was nearby, before returning to decorating the cookies that lay in front of you.

Charles emitted a resounding gasp, skillfully weaving of feigned anguish. His reaction unfolded with a theatrical flair; a symphony of emotion portrayed through a dramatic hand gesture that traversed the journey of his fist to his chest. It mimicked the palpable sensation of being struck, an artful display of simulated injury. “Un autre homme reçoit tout cela?” Another man gets all of these?

With an indulgent smile, you playfully orchestrate a slow, deliberate roll of your eyes in response to his theatrics. Unfazed by the charming display, you redirect your attention solely to the task at hand – meticulously adorning the remaining cookies with festive embellishments. The ambiance in the room becomes a delightful blend of shared amusement as you all work hard finishing them all.

Charles soon excused himself to his bedroom to gather a call regarding some car testing that happened earlier this week. 

As you were on the verge of releasing a hearty sigh, ready to vocalize your exhaustion, your attention diverted to the drowsy four-year-old near you. Her delicate features were gently pressed against the countertop, closed in the embrace of slumber. A wave of endearment washed over you. Suppressing a giggle, you marveled at the sheer adorableness of the scene, momentarily setting aside your fatigue to savor the precious sight before you.

Tenderly, you gathered her into your arms, cradling her like a precious bundle. With each careful step echoed through the familiar path leading to her room, where the soft glow of ambient light revealed the traces of a day well spent.

Arriving at her bed, you marveled at the cherubic expression on her face. Softly, you attempted to wipe away the remnants of flour that adorned her tiny arms and face, a silent acknowledgment of the shared joy in the day’s baking escapade. Deciding that it was best to let her sleep than to wake her to bathe her now. The sheets could always be washed later. In that quiet moment, you sat on the floor beside her bed, just smiling at her. The room became a sanctuary, where the gentle act of care echoed the love woven into the fabric of the night.

Unbeknownst to you, Charles stood silently in the doorway, quietly observing the intimate scene before him. A swell of emotion gripped his heart as he beheld the tender scene – there you were, alongside his daughter, the warmth of familial connection radiating from your shared moments. In that unspoken exchange, a poignant desire filled his heart, longing for the sense of family that seemed to effortlessly bloom in your presence. His heart was full of want for you.

“Sugar crash?” His voice, soft and unexpected, caught you off guard, prompting an instinctive flinch. As you turned your head, you found Charles slowly approaching, his tall figure standing gracefully behind where you were seated. His captivating green eyes remained fixed on you, their beauty holding a silent intensity, never once wavering from your presence. 

“Oui,” you softly smiled. “Je devrais aller nettoyer,” I should go clean up. You stood to your feet as Charles pressed a soft kiss to his sleeping girl and brushed her hair out of her face.

Back in the kitchen, it truly looked like a tornado had hit the room. Standing amidst the culinary chaos, you contemplated where to even begin when, suddenly, a pair of hands playfully seized your waist, diverting your attention.

“Tu me rends fou,” You drive me crazy.

His lips pressed softly into the swell of your neck, his tongue pressing against your cookie batter covered skin. “Tellement doux,” So sweet.

Your stomach clenched with butterflies as he spun you around, holding you close to him. Slowly, he brings his index finger to the corner of your mouth, wiping a speck of dough off you and bringing it to your lips.

He doesn’t even need to tell you before your opening your mouth, wrapping your tongue around his finger to lick it off. You stare up at him in the process, witnessing the color of his eyes darken as you release his finger with a ‘pop’.

“Je te rends toujours folle?” Still drive you crazy?

You observed the Adam’s apple in his neck bobbing with a pronounced gulp. The veins in his neck stood out prominently, evidence of his teeth being clenched.

You slowly made your way to your knees, trailing your hands down his body, feeling his taut muscles through the confines of his sweatpants. You skillfully looped your fingers into his waistband, pulling them down to free his hard length. Not too far away, was some spare cookie dough on the island of the kitchen. To which, you reached one arm up and grabbed, spreading some of it onto him, a smirk graced your lips as you heard him groan. 

“Mon dieu,” My God. He physically had to lean forward, hunching over you, in order to grip the kitchen counter top as soon as your tongue met him.

You moaned at the taste of him and the cookie dough.

He half-chuckled as his hips bucked further into your mouth, chasing after his pleasure. He inhaled sharply, trying to relax, but you were eager and adamant on getting him there. You were so so so eager to please him. 

Your hand gripped him, collecting the spit on your fingers, spreading it all over his hot skin, while you suckled gently at his sensitive tip.

“Mmm, fuck,” He couldn’t get full words out as you sunk him deeper into your mouth, his tip scraping the walls of your throat. The burning in his stomach was rising as he watched you eagerly take every inch of him. You moaned at the taste of him, the vibrations pushing him even closer to the edge.

His face was completely flushed now as you bobbed up and down, essentially choking on him. Keeping your voice down, you pulled off of him again.

“Je te veux partout sur ma langue,” Want you all over my tongue. Your whimpery tone sent him over the edge almost instantly. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he repeated. The muscles of his arms bulging as he gripped the edge of the countertop tightly. Your eyes were wet with tears, but you were satisfied as he filled your mouth. Your tongue ran over the tip once more, licking up every drop, before he took a step back from you. 

You grinned lazily at him as you stood to your feet. His chest was rising and down deeply as he tried to catch his breath.

“Complètement fou,” Fucking crazy. He murmurs, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 

“Il est temps de nettoyer!” Time to clean! You clap your hands together, devious to escape his touch. 

But you both know, that he won’t let you off the hook that easily.

[bonnie-the-butcher]

Rip Tide | Chapter VII

[ MDNI ] [ word count: 8.669 ] [ Masterlist ] 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Canonverse/Canon-Divergent; Dark! Content; NSFW; Strong Language; Cheating; Drug Use; Mentions of overdose; Some shades of Munchausen syndrome from dear old Rafe; Manipulation; Toxic, obsessive behaviour; Stalking; Violence; DUBCON/NONCON; My writing is really pretentious and English is not my first language, so please feel free to call me out in whichever grammar mistakes you might find find.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You and JJ have always been in each other's orbit. He's your brother’s best friend, the guy you've known your entire life. He was kind, protective, familiar. You never meant for the two of you to start hooking up. And you never meant for it to last so long. But when this boy you thought you'd come to know like the back of your hand turns out to be no better than the men he'd warned you about, you find yourself in the sights of the guy he hates most, regardless of wether you want that or not.

I'm sorry for introducing a side character so extensively, but I promise y'all, I swear to God it will all make sense in the future. I've been having a blast reading your comments and seeing what you think of the story. Thank you so so so much, from the bottom of my heart. Likes, asks, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank you in advance for reading!

Morning has a way of making everything seem lighter in retrospect.

Sleep was always a safe place for you. When you were in pain, when you were ruined, when you wished for death, you fell asleep. And when you woke up, with the sun hitting your face as reality sunk in, you weren’t so hopeless anymore.

But you startle awake that morning, nearly falling off the bed with JJ still half on top of you, having barely even slept, and you feel no metaphorical light strike you.

No clarity.

No introspection.

You feel worse.

All night long, you fell asleep and startled awake — You dreamt of stumbling up to the front door of the Cameron house to realize you were wearing nothing but the blue skirt, and woke up. You dreamt of running down the beach with JJ chasing you, persecuting you, and woke up. You dreamt of standing frozen in the kitchen at the Wreck while Kie tore your clothes off of you as everyone laughed and woke up.

It was 3:54 when you took a sleeping pill.

It was 4:09 when you woke up again.

Since then you'd drifted back and forth between a dreamless sleep riddled by the feeling of suddenly falling, and waking up, groggy and unable to move on the stifling heat of your bedroom.

You don’t feel much better when you finally open your eyes at 6:40. The sun seems to be in the room with you, scalding you, as it bleeds in through the window screen that shakes even as no wind comes through it. JJ’s skin is glued to yours, his hair sticking to your chest, his hands still gripping you as you try to move away.

He mumbles slightly, eyes peeking open in the overwhelming brightness. – Mornin’. – His fingers drift up your spine, around your waist, up to your chest. A kiss landing on the crook of your neck as he sits up next to you. – I don’t think I’ve ever slept this good in my life.

You try not to scoff at the irony as you rub the sleep you didn’t even have off your eyes. – Yeah. – He smiles against your skin, soft, warm, overbearing. – God, why is it so hot in here?

– Dunno, something to do with your presence, maybe.

A laugh falls from your lips, sharper than it should be. – Cute, JJ. Thanks a lot.

You’d be glad for the breath he lets out against your shoulder, but it doesn’t do much to help the heat, especially when he’s holding you so close, so tight, it's like being glued to a sentient heater.

The imprint of his hands seeps through the sweat on your skin. — Rough, calloused. Like sandpaper on silk, your skin seems to fray at his touch.

The wooden floorboards are hot beneath your feet as you try to stand, but JJ pulls you back, tugging at your arm until you're an inch short of falling over. – Where you going, baby? Let's sleep a little more.

– I wanna get ready.

– For what? It’s not like you’re working today. – The words linger around you, not cruel, but still sharp. – C’mon, baby. Relax.

– I’m starving. D’you want anything?

– You?

– Bye, JJ.

His laughter bounces off the walls as you walk down the hall, picking up the string of clothes he’s left behind.

You look over your shoulder on instinct. John’s door is still wide open, empty of him. If Sarah’s sleeping patterns are to be taken into account, and he truly did sleep there, neither of them are gonna wake up before midday.

So why do you feel like you’re being watched?

Worse than watched, judged.

The walls hover close, ceiling lower than you remember. The air is heavy around you, an overwhelming silence swallowing you whole even as you hear the creaks and cracks of the Chateau make themselves heard. You hesitate before stepping into the living room, eyes immediately falling over the armchair on the corner, where your dad used to sit.

Deep burgundy suede, copper buttons on the arms, probably the most expensive thing in this house. His bag still sits next to it, a worn honey-leather crossbody purse he’s had for longer than you've been alive. A gift from John's mother. You have to lift it everytime you clean the place, and it gets heavier every time, as if the piece of both of them that still lingers inside is growing.

Your breathing hitches.

You don’t know when your heartbeat picked up, why it did. But you avert your eyes like the sight had burned you, and rush to the kitchen quicker than dignity should allow.

You reach for the fridge door, thankful for the cold air that blows against you as you throw on JJ’s shirt to cover yourself. But that quick gladness doesn’t last: The fridge is almost empty, a half-done jar of peanut butter and some wonder bread you definitely didn’t buy the only things that don’t look spoiled, or just straight up empty. Your groceries never lasted long, no matter how much you try to stretch them.

The job interview still doesn’t seem appealing as Rafe’s weird words echo in your mind, but you don’t have the luxury to throw yourself on a job search you know won’t be fruitful, not now when half your bills are still to be paid.

You reach in, taking the bread, and open the little drawer, hoping for some cheese, tomatoes, anything. But your hope for semi-fresh produce vanishes as you feel JJ against you, his arms suddenly snaking around your waist. The bread falls from your hands. – Ooh, jumpy! – He giggles, leaning over you, his chin resting at the crook of your neck.

– Are you trying to give me a heart-attack?!

– You can’t bend over with an ass like yours and expect me not to do that. – His hands trail up your sides, under the shirt, his shirt, humming as he presses his hips against yours. – You look so hot like that, wearing my shirt.

A disgruntled chuckle falls from your lips as you look behind you, over your shoulder and his. – And you’d look really hot if you were wearing one.

– No need to lie to yourself, I know you like to see me naked. – He pulls you back, closing the fridge door with a kick as he leans down to kiss you. His hands find yours, pulling them to his chest. He trails them down his abs, until the strings of his shorts brush against your fingers. – D’you wanna take it off of me, baby?

– JJ, what are you doing?

– You. – He laughs, hands drifting down to your thighs. He takes a handful of flesh wherever he can squeeze, hissing under his breath as he presses on closer. – C’mon, beautiful. Aren’t you gonna give me a good morning?

– I’d have a better morning if you guys ever left anything for me to eat in this house.

– What? You hungry? I’ve got something you can put in your mouth.

– I think I’ll pass. – You turn around, but JJ grabs your waist before you can even step to the door. He’s close, much closer than what he should be, breath clinging heavy to your skin, blue eyes raking over your chest as he pushes you against the counter. – JJ, stop it.

– I don’t want to. – He growls, stepping closer, pulling at you, until his hips are against yours, thrusting so lightly you think he must not realize it. – You’re walking around like that, with nothing but my shirt— He groans, movements growing faster, more intentional. – driving me insane. And I can’t even do anything about it?

You push at his chest, trying to wriggle out from under him, but JJ’s grip is unwavering. – I’m not playing around, JJ, I’m not—

– Just a little, baby, please. Just— He’s pulling down his shorts, breath stuttering, head falling back as soon as skin touches skin. – Fuck. Fuck, that feels so good.

– JJ—

– Please, baby. Please. I promise I’ll make it quick. – You feel him pushing into you, hands holding your hips in a vice grip as he sinks in, head falling to the crook of your neck. – You feel so fucking good around me. Fuck—

You’re frozen in place, watching him use you, have at you like a toy, as if your words didn’t mean anything. He’s fucking himself into you, babbling, stuttering, rolling his eyes, almost as if he’s possessed. – How’d you do this to me? – The words fall from his lips as if he’s speaking to himself, his eyes closed, mouth pressed against your skin. – I can’t—fuck, I can’t stop.

His pace has grown faster, sloppier, dick sliding in and out so fast you can barely brace against him, nails digging into his shoulders, still unmoving.

You hear something in the distance, the familiar rumble of an engine, a sound you’d heard a thousand times before.

John.

You wake up from your daze in a heartbeat, already pushing JJ away. – The car. John’s coming JJ, get off of me!

He doesn’t listen, your protests falling on deaf ears as he moans into your shoulder, still moving like a bitch in heat. – Jus— Just a little more, please. Please it feels so– Fuck! Fuck, right there! – His hips move wildly, and even as you shove him with all your strength, it's to no avail. You can hear the car getting closer, wheels moving on the soft lakebank mud, but JJ doesn’t stop. He gets louder. More restless, begging and pleading, his pace stuttering as his stomach contracts. – Don’t stop, fuck don’t stop I’m almost there! I— Fuck, fuck! Right there, baby! FUCK–

You shut him up just as he cums, shuddering and shaking over you as you push your hands onto his mouth, dick still twitching as you finally manage to get him away. You hear his back knocking against the opposite counter just as the car door slams closed, and you’re running to the bathroom, JJ pulling up his shorts behind you, still frozen in place.

You’ve never locked a door so fast, shame burning beneath your skin as you hear your brother’s steps on the porch, the squeak of the front door banging closed against the frame as he shuts it behind him.

JJ greets him with a stutter. – Hi—hey bro, what are you doing here this early? I thought you were gonna stay at Sarah’s.

– Rafe Cameron.

– What?

– Sarah and I were sleeping and then this psycho walks into the room. – You don’t know if JJ’s too stunned to respond, or if he’s not actually listening, but even you do a double take. – We weren’t even doing anything. And he just bursts through the door like the kool-aid man and starts laughing.

– Laughing?

– Yeah! Laughing! Fucking cackling. He laughed so hard, her dad came to check what was going on. – You hear impact. John probably threw something, you can hear the frustration in his sigh. – I had to sneak out the window so he wouldn’t catch me there. And you know what’s worse?

– There's worse?

– Yeah! Rafe told me to check on my sister. – Your breath is caught. – He actually fucking talked about her! Said her name! Like they’re friends or whatever. Can you fucking believe that?!

You dig your nails into your hands.

Please don’t say anything stupid. Please don’t say anything stupid. – Rafe’s a fucking junkie, bro. He was probably out of his mind. – Thank you. – But he acts really weird about her, if you ask me.

Your nails dig deeper.

Nobody asked you anything, JJ. – What do you mean?

You're not listening anymore.

There's no way in hell you're about to let JJ fucking Maybank buy you three more months of confinement. Your brother and you have it bad enough as it is without him throwing wood into that fire.

You throw the shirt off of you, burying it deep into the laundry basket, and wrap yourself with your towel.

– I don’t know man, but don’t you think it's kinda weird that he would—

– John? You home? – The conversation dies right then as you step in, and your brother jumps to his feet, looking over to the hall at you, like you're a specter. – That’s early.

He barely looks at you at first, still caught up in his own frustration. You tighten the towel around your body, tucking in the corner like it's the most natural thing in the world. Your hands shake slightly as they drop back to your side. – I thought you slept at Sarah's.

John exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. – Yeah. I did. – Something burns in his eyes. – And then your buddy Rafe laughed me off the building.

– Rafe? – You hum. – What'd you mean ‘laughed you off the building'?

John scoffs. – He was high as shit. Talking in circles. Then— He pauses, his jaw flexing. – Then he brought you up.

Your stomach clenches, but you don’t let it show. You barely blink. – Me?

John's looking at you now. Really looking. – Yeah. Said your name. Told me to check on you.

The air shifts. JJ’s foot scuffs against the floor, he's looking at you too, something else in his gaze you can't quite catch from the corner of your eyes.

You feign confusion. – That's weird.

John doesn’t respond right away. He’s watching you too closely, like he’s trying to catch something in the way your face moves, in the way your fingers curl around the edge of your towel.

– When the fuck did Rafe start talking about you?

He says it slow, almost careful. But you know that tone. It’s the one he gets when he already suspects the answer.

You force a shrug, swallowing against the tightness in your throat. – I don’t know, John. Doesn’t he hate you? Was probably trynna get into your head or something.

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just keeps looking at you like he’s waiting for something to crack.

He thinks you're made of glass, he always did. But he doesn't treat you like you’re fragile, he treats you like you’re all shards and sharp edges. Like he’ll cut himself on you if he gets too close.

– Why are you getting ready so early? – That tone again. Casual enough, just shy of friendly. But his eyes are like knives, and you just happen to be the one he's holding at knifepoint. – You were fired.

You can feel your expression darken. JJ's already looking at you as your eyes drift between him and your brother. – Kie told you, huh?

– Yeah, she did. – He sways on his feet as he stands. Drunk off his own self-righteousness. – And she's right to. We all know damn right you wouldn't tell me. Because it's not like I'm your brother! It's not like I worry about you!

– It happened YESTERDAY. I just got fired, and you just walked in! Was I supposed to bring it up now? Over what? The breakfast we don't have?! The pile of bills that we still have to pay?!

He's looking at you, his heart probably racing just as much as yours. – Do you think this shit is easy?! – You continue. – It's hard enough to lose the job I've had for three fucking years, John! But telling you?! Having to disappoint you like this when we don't even know if we're gonna eat tomorrow?

He’s silent now.

You are too. —All the things you have to say flutter away as your mind sends you spinning— He whispers your name under his breath, reaching. Grasping. But you don’t want him to. You recoil before he can get to you, like a scared cat curling up in the corner.

And his hand drops.

As if the rejection had sent a shock through him, one as painful as what you’re feeling now. – Don't do this to me right now. – He’s pleading, but it doesn't sound like it. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, all you see is ache. It pains you to see him like this. But it doesn’t last long. Just as soon as that worry washed over him, anger swallowed it whole. – You always do this shit. You always do that. You fuck up and you shut down and you blame it on me!

– I'm not!

– Yes you are! You are! And you always do! It's not my fault you lost your job!

– I’m not saying it is, John! I’m just trying to—

– To what?! Huh? What is it?!

You let go of your breath, of your hope for this conversation, of any possibility of mending whatever it is that's wrong with you and John right now. The heels of your palms burn against the hollow of your eyes as you press your hands into them. – Forget it. – Your stomach turns, your throat is burning, you want it to end. – Forget it, John.

Your feet move before your mind does, you barely see the house moving around you as you scurry away. The door of your room falls shut behind you, but your thoughts remain in that kitchen, like your conscience couldn't bear to leave this the way it was.

Deal with it. You tell yourself. If they don't want to listen you shouldn’t even talk. But there is so much to say.

It wasn't you who got fired, you think as you take your clothes from the dresser and rush into the bathroom, it was Kie who did it to you.

The cold water jars you, like a glacier on your burning skin, but you continue the argument in your head as you scrub your skin raw trying to get JJ's hands off of you, thinking of everything you should have said.

The towel is still damp from your last shower as you pat yourself dry, but you can't get over the way your brother still looked at you like a criminal, as if the one time you got yourself into trouble was enough to outweigh every other stupid mistake he made.

The mirror seems like an alternative reality. You look into it and you see someone who’s alive. Bags under the eyes, reddened lips, messy hair. — If you look deep enough you can see breath in those lungs, shoulders that move up and down steadily, a chest that heaves. — But you feel like death, warmed over. An animal carcass that someone threw in the microwave, just to bring the color back to the corpse.

You reach under the sink for your makeup bag, and rifle through the little items you’ve managed to swipe from drugstores along the years.

Your mother would’ve been very disappointed in you. She was all about beauty, it's the only thing you remember about the woman: her, bent over the sink, touching up a cherry-red lipstick with the precision of a pre-raphaelite painter.

She never liked to kiss you. Took too much work to get her lips like that. Too bad for you, she wouldn’t be caught dead without it.

You wonder if she was wearing it right now. If she woke up, if she still refuses to kiss, even though that’s the basis on which her entire life was built upon.

Maybe she’s dead.

Maybe that's why you never heard from her.

If they did bury her, you at least hope they got her makeup right.

You fish a tube from the deepest corner of your bag, your only one. It's not as pretty as hers was, but you put it on just like she did, thinking of her, laying on a coroner’s table, being painted up like a doll.

Concealer. Foundation. You look like a doll. Painted plastic, a fake glimmer in your eye.

The blush comes later, closer to your undereyes, just where she put it. Then the lashes. She'd bat them to anyone who'd have her. A born flirt, your father would say.

The only thing he would say about her.

A stone weighs down on your chest.

Resentment.

Solid, calcified, heavy. If you move too fast you might feel it rattling inside your ribcage. But you look prettier than you did in a while.

You almost feel like her.

You take one last look in the mirror before stepping out, and she's looking back at you, raised brow, unimpressed, the way she always looked at you—it’s the version of you that can handle this, the one who won’t crumble at the first sign of trouble. It’s armor. A little cracked, maybe, but it’ll hold.

She would hold. You never could.

The house is quiet now, holding its breath with you when you step outside. John’s still in the kitchen, seething, you don’t hear him, but you feel him there, the weight of his anger pressing against the walls.

JJ is still there. He’s outside, sitting on the steps. He’s not looking at you, not at first. Just staring out at the river, his jaw clenched tight.

He only turns when you step out.

His eyes drop, flicking over you like he’s trying to figure out what’s different. Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn’t.

– That was cruel. – He says, and his voice is rougher than before, like he’s been thinking too hard, breathing too shallow. – What you said to him. You shouldn't— He feels guilty.

You nod, barely.

He looks away again, back to the water. – Figures.

It’s not fair. You know that. You also know that staying here, standing in front of him, means letting him say whatever it is he’s trying not to say. And you don’t have the stomach for it.

So you step off the porch. The weight in your chest shifts, sharp and insistent.

JJ doesn’t stop you.

But he does call after you, just before you reach the end.

– Don’t do that. – he says, lower, slower. Suddenly, it's like he’s talking to a child. – We were getting along so well. Don't ignore me now.

You pause.

He lets out a breath, almost a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. – I'm late, – His eyes widen. – For an interview, JJ. I have to be there at 10. Someone’s gotta pay the bills.

– Don't.

– Why? Is he gonna do it? – JJ sucks his teeth, looking down, it's all the answer you need. – Don't you wanna eat something other than bread and beer? Actual food? I know I do.

– Baby,

– Don't call me that. – You nod to the door behind you. – We were already poor enough when I was working. I don’t wanna think of how it could be otherwise.

JJ is quiet. You can almost hear him thinking. – Do you want me to drive you?

There’s nothing you want less. – I’m fine. I’ll see you later.

– Wait, wait. Wait a minute. – He looks over his shoulder, and pulls at your hand, standing closer. – Give me a kiss.

– JJ, stop it.

– He won't see. – His hand lands on the small of your back, heat bleeding through your shirt as he pulls you in, tighter and tighter until you can’t avoid his lips.

His mouth is warm, familiar. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t second-guess the way he fits against you, like he already knows exactly how you’ll respond.

But you don’t.

You stay still, lips barely parting under his. The pressure of his hand at your back keeps you anchored, locked in place, and when he deepens the kiss—his lips moving slow, deliberate—you don’t fight it. You just let it happen, waiting for it to be over.

JJ doesn’t notice.

You feel it when he exhales through his nose, when his fingers press just a little harder into your spine, like he’s chasing something he isn’t getting. But he doesn’t pull back, not until he’s ready, until he's had his fill, and when he finally does, he sighs against your lips, almost satisfied, but not quite.

He lingers, his nose still brushing yours, but then he shifts back slightly, studying your face.

– That’s all I get? – His voice is low, teasing, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s trying to decide whether to be hurt. – Don’t leave me wanting like that, baby.

– I gotta go.

He says nothing. Just glances over his shoulder and swallows. His hand stays on you for another second, two. And he moves as if he’ll pull away, but he doesn’t.

– JJ.

Your voice is steady, but the weight in your chest hasn’t budged. If anything, it’s worse now, heavier.

JJ watches you, expression unreadable, before tipping his head back with a soft chuckle.

– Damn. – He drags a hand down his face, shaking his head. – You make a guy work for it, huh?

You don’t respond. Take a step back, hands still on his shoulders.

– Come back soon, okay? – He whispers, you nod, and he goes on. – I'll see you later, right?

It isn’t a question. It’s a statement, like he already knows the answer.

And maybe he does.

You don’t give him a reply. You just keep walking, the weight in your chest sinking deeper, spreading through your ribs.

You never thought you’d be afraid of the Cameron house.

Rafe wasn’t really wrong when he joked about your house being haunted, but there’s something about his that is actually frightening. Maybe it’s the sheer size of it, the too-perfect symmetry of the windows staring down at you from over the white balconies like a set of watchful eyes. Or maybe it’s the fact that you know what happens inside. Either way, you stand there for a moment, frozen on the pavement, your phone open to Rafe’s messages, and curse the day your broke-ass parents decided to have a kid.

You spent the last of your money printing out a copy of your resume—hastily written on Google Docs during the bus ride. You’d embellished as much as your conscience allowed, but you had no illusions; landing a job at the Camerons’ was out of the question unless you managed to impress the head chef: Kareem Nawaz.

You were surprised to realize you sort of knew him. Kareem had run a bar at Figure Eight just around the time you were hired at the Wreck. Everybody on the island seemed to turn to it in awe, the single taste of something even tangentially cosmopolitan to ever grace the Outer Banks—fancy drinks, fancy music, fancy food. But the bar didn’t last long. As you’d heard from Anthony, Kareem and the other owner had come to blows over finances. Eventually, the lawsuit got so expensive they had to shut the place down.

You think of driving past the still-empty structure as you step around the perfect lawn, heading toward the staff entrance in the back. You knock once, then a second time, a little softer.

Your clothes are less than perfect. You think of what Rafe said, a shiver running up your spine. Your mother would’ve told you to wear that skirt. Maybe you should have.

Maybe that was the only thing that could work you this miracle.

You barely have time to steady yourself before the door swings open.

– Oh, uhm, hey. I’m here for the private chef position. – The man standing in the doorway eyes you down—not obviously, but just long enough that you notice. A brief flicker of appraisal, the kind that would go unnoticed if you weren’t already on edge. He leans against the frame, the sleeves of his coat pushed up just enough to show off the dark ink decorating his forearms. – I talked to someone on the phone.

– Yeah, I know. That was me. I'm Kareem. Kareem Nawaz, the head chef.

He extends a hand. Big, manicured, intricately tattooed, and you meet him halfway, a firm handshake in which his hand lingers for a minute.

– I'm…

– I remember your name. – He cuts in, but his tone is warm, friendly. You don’t even mind. He steps aside, holding the door open wider, inviting you in. – I looked you up. Routledge, right? You worked at the Wreck?

– Yes, sir. I was a roast chef for three years.

You extend the resume to him, watching his gaze shift between the paper and you. He doesn’t rush.

You don’t know what to make of him. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with a thick beard and a man bun. The millennial chef stereotype. And yet, something about him doesn’t quite fit the label. He’s too put-together, too composed.

Kareem is not the struggling type. You can tell he has money, significant money, in the way he talks and moves so comfortably, as if he's so deeply aware that the world is his that he doesn't even think about it.

You wait for resentment to bloom in your chest, a distaste, a mistrust, but nothing comes. You look at him, and it’s like you've known each other for years. He smiles—broad, easy, sweet—and yet you still can’t tell what’s going on behind his eyes.

– So I hear. – You freeze. – I gave your last boss a call. Regretted it, too. He did everything he could to convince me not to hire you.

Your hands twitch at your sides, but you force yourself to stay still, to keep your gaze fixed.

– Mr. Carrera never had a high opinion of me.

– And yet he kept you on for three years. Why do you think that is?

– Cheap labor? A fondness for torturing people? – Kareem laughs, crossing his arms as he leans back against the marble counter, watching you with something like amusement. – He’s a famous sadist.

– Oh, I know that. – His smile falters, just for a second, twisting at the edges. It’s quick—blink and you’d miss it—but it’s enough. The first hint of something other than friendliness. – Mr. Cameron is fond of him, don’t ask me why. The bastard makes a point to come into my kitchen and tell me how to do my job every time he’s here.

You put on your sympathetic voice. – How rude.

He chuckles, flashing straight white teeth.

– You don’t need to kiss ass, Ms. Routledge. If Michael Carrera doesn’t like you, then I’m sure we can be great friends.

You tilt your head, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling like a little girl.

– I do enjoy friendship…

– …But what you need is a job?

– I'm not rejecting the offer, but… yeah.

He smiles and glances down at your resume again.

– Here’s the deal. Three years at a professional kitchen, in the single kinda decent restaurant in this place—that’s a lot. You've worked at diners, mom&pop businesses, bakeries… You got a lot of color in your resume. That's great. But you’re what, nineteen?

– Something like that.

– You never even went to culinary school.

– No, sir.

– That’s kind of a problem.

You take a slow breath. His expression is neutral, but his eyes linger—just a beat longer than they should.

– Well, I know. I know without an education, I’m not anyone's ideal choice. But maybe, in the absence of a diploma to tell you that I’m able, you might accept another sort of proof?

He raises his brows, his mouth parting just slightly.

– Another sort..?

– Yeah.

Something in the air shifts.

His posture changes— he straightens, brushing a hand over the tattoos on his forearm, like he’s suddenly aware of them. His eyes hold yours for a moment, long enough that you feel it in your stomach, that same feeling you get when you’ve stepped a little too close to the edge of a ledge.

His voice is low when he speaks, taking a step closer. – Alright, I'll bite. – He says, voice even, unreadable. – What kind of proof?

– Well, you tell me. I can do it all.

– All?

The way he says it feels careful. You can tell he’s watching you, weighing the moment, as if waiting for you to clarify. But you don’t—not right away. That’s the gift your mother left you: suggestion. You let the silence stretch for just long enough to see the way his fingers tighten slightly over his forearm, a flicker of something in his eyes before he blinks it away.

You shrug. – Yeah. – You hum. – It really depends on what you need help with. I've been a roast chef, I can help with lunch. Or maybe the desert is the problem, that's where the bakery gig comes in handy. Pick a dish. If I wanna work here with you, I gotta learn how to follow your lead, right?

He hums, smile growing. You feel yourself mirror it without even realizing. – You wanna cook for me?

– Well, yeah. – He exhales a soft chuckle, something unreadable flickering in his expression before he tilts his head. – I'm a proactive kind of girl. That's my greatest trait.

– I bet it is. – Kareem lets out a breath through his nose, his lips pressing together in something like amusement, though there’s a slowness to it. – You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?

– I try.

You’re aware of his gaze still on you as he finally shifts, setting your resume down on the counter and turning toward the stainless steel fridge.

– Alright, chef. Lunch for today is beef tenderloin with a red wine reduction sauce. Truffle mash potatoes, cornbread with honey butter, some roasted vegetables with herbs and panna cotta for dessert.

– Did you get started with cornbread?

He looks at his watch with a smile. – Not yet.

– Well, in that case. I can do the cornbread and, at the same time, something simple but tasty for us to lunch on. And later, if you’re convinced, I will do the rest.

A hearty laugh escapes him, you feel it buzz against your skin. – You weren’t playing about the proactive thing, were you?

– No sir. I'm a woman of my word.

– Hardly a woman. – He teases.

– I will ignore that comment. And what are you anyways? 27? Not exactly my idea of an old man.

– I am thirty one years old!

– In what? Dog years?

– Really funny. – His tone drips with sarcasm, but he can’t shake off the smile as you gather the ingredients for the cornbread.

– That's another thing you might look forward to. If you decide to hire me, of course.

– Hate to say it, but your fate's really hanging on how good that us-lunch is gonna be. – He pauses, smiling again. – Actually, I don’t hate to say it at all. What are you making?

– That's a surprise. Shouldn't you be getting started on that panna cotta?

– Bossy. – He bumps your shoulder, still grinning. It's starting to unnerve you.

You nod, stepping forward to scan the kitchen, already mapping out what you need.

But before you can open the fridge, Kareem moves in front. He reaches for the sink, fills a glass with water, and sets it down beside you.

– You’re shaking, y'know?

You freeze for half a second.

– I’m not.

– Sure you aren’t.

His tone is casual, almost teasing, but there’s something in the way he leans just slightly into your space as he says it. Close enough that, when you glance up, he’s already looking at you.

It’s brief. A flicker of a moment. But there’s something in the way his gaze lingers, the way his fingers drum once against the counter before he pulls away, giving you back your space.

– Clock’s ticking, chef.

You take a deep breath, fingers brushing against the countertop as you gather the ingredients for the cornbread. There’s a slight tremor in your hands, but you ignore it. You can’t afford to let nerves get the best of you—not now. The kitchen is big, the appliances gleaming, and Kareem’s presence fills the space in a way you’re not entirely sure how to handle.

But you can cook. You know that much.

It’s easy enough to find your way around the ingredients. Head chefs are all about the methodical nature of storing, and you can see his pattern as you go from the fridge, to the pantry, and back to the counter

You begin with the dry ingredients—cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder. There’s something almost meditative about it, the repetition of pouring and measuring, the steady rhythm that lulls you into focus. You’re already thinking ahead, the steps laid out in your mind as you mix. You add the salt, the baking powder, the sugar. The cornbread is a good start. It’s simple, but comforting—a dish that feels like a hug with every bite.

That tells you enough about him. Obviously, Kareem’s the one picking out the meals. A man like Ward Cameron is exactly the person to just hand off that responsibility entirely while he focuses on the “important things”. Beef tenderloin is posh enough to fit the Cameron’s style, especially with a wine reduction. But cornbread? That’s a chef’s nostalgia speaking.

And you’ll be damned if you can’t milk that for all it's got.

There’s a hum in the air, the soft buzz of your thoughts, as you pour the buttermilk into the bowl, watching the swirl of white in the yellow mix. Your mind drifts back to Kareem, trying to figure out his preferences.

He’s not a city boy, despite the desperate attempt to seem like one. Whenever he laughs or gets too distracted you can hear the subtle drawl on a country accent in his voice. His build hardly hints at someone unfamiliar with manual labour. You’re not a betting woman, but if you were, you’d bet he was raised on a farm. — So fancy food isn’t the right choice. He’s earnest, wholesome, and though he hides it well enough under the truffle oil and the herbs and the wine thing that are clearly not what he would prefer, his menu tells you he enjoys simplicity, but that he often has to dress it up.

What he wants is a homey fare.

Something that’s comforting, without being heavy, Something hearty. Tasty. The sort of thing that makes you drool as it cooks and fills every expectation when it's in your mouth: Chicken, mash, a salad that isn’t quite a salad just to put some color on the plate. Something a mother would make. A good mother— That’s easy enough.

You add the egg, the melted butter, and fold everything together with quick, practiced movements. No hesitation. It's easier now that you know what you’re gonna do next. You pour the batter into a cast-iron skillet, sizzling as it hits the hot surface enough to make you pause, your heart catching in your chest. The cornbread will bake up crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, just like it should. That’s the easy part. The hard part’s still to come.

As the cornbread begins to bake, you move onto your chicken. You need to get the oil hot—just the right temperature so that the chicken fries up golden brown, the skin crispy and seasoned perfectly. You take a moment to mix in the seasonings: paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, cayenne. Press it into the flour mixture, making sure it coats evenly. You feel the nervousness creep in again as you set the pieces into the hot oil. It crackles, the sound sharp and satisfying.

You glance over your shoulder, but Kareem is still a little too far away to read his expression.

Focus.

The chicken fries, sizzling as it turns a golden brown. You turn the pieces carefully, making sure they cook evenly, the skin getting crisp and crackly. There’s a slight smell of garlic and paprika in the air—rich and savory—and for a moment, the tension that’s been building in your chest starts to lift, if only a little. You move in a kind of rhythm now, your hands steady, your mind occupied with each step.

You turn to the potatoes. You throw them into a pot, fill it with water, and set it to boil. You don’t need to watch it. It’ll take care of itself for now, just like the cornbread. You wash spinach, the leaves fresh and bright, and start on the sauté. A quick toss in hot olive oil with garlic—simple, but good. The spinach wilts quickly, its deep green turning darker as it cooks. You squeeze a little lemon juice over it, just enough to add a pop of brightness.

You’re acutely aware of Kareem’s presence behind you. You can feel his eyes on you, even when you don’t turn to look. His movements are almost too quiet, too calculated as he focuses on the panna cotta, but then, you hear a soft chuckle. You glance over and catch him looking at you—just a split second before he turns back to his work. He’s not hiding it. He’s watching you.

You try to ignore it, but it’s hard. Every so often, you catch him peeking over the top of the counter, eyes twinkling with something that could be amusement—or maybe just curiosity. He watches you handle the chicken, his gaze never straying too far, like he’s waiting for you to slip up. His voice breaks the silence between you when he speaks, low and teasing.

– You sure you know what you’re doing?

You keep your hands steady as you flip a piece of chicken, not looking up. – What, you think I can’t handle some fried chicken?

– No, no. I’m just curious, – he says, his voice carrying a hint of a grin. You feel it in the air as he stays close enough to catch the scent of garlic and paprika. – The real question is: are you really going to make this whole meal from scratch?

You roll your eyes, though the corners of your mouth twitch. – Didn’t I tell you I was a proactive type of person?

His laugh is soft, almost like he’s enjoying the game of it all. – I’m starting to think I might have underestimated you, chef.

You focus on the chicken, trying to ignore the way his presence feels just a little too heavy in the kitchen. When you set the pieces on the paper towels, you catch his eyes again, this time his grin widening as he leans against the counter. He seems unbothered by the quiet, the way you’re keeping your space while working. The kitchen is like a stage, and right now, you’re not sure whether you’re the performer or the director.

As the chicken finishes up, you check the potatoes. They’re soft and ready to mash, so you turn off the heat and start mashing them, adding butter, cream, and salt to get them to the right consistency. The spinach is done now, wilted and coated with a light sheen of oil and lemon juice. You set the chicken, the spinach, and the potatoes together, and glance over at Kareem again. He’s watching you now, his eyes following every move you make. There’s something amused in the way his lips curl as he turns back to the panna cotta.

– Well, – you say, trying to sound casual, like your whole life doesn’t depend on this. – lunch is almost ready.

He takes a step forward, his gaze moving over your work. – Smells damn good, – he says with a nod, his approval heavy in the air. You feel the cold whiff of realization Pandora must have felt after the box was finally open —Surrounded by the darkness you harvested, the only thing left for you is hope, the cruelest of all feelings.

You finally pull the cornbread from the oven, the golden crust hot and ready. You cut a piece, drizzling honey butter over the top. You glance at Kareem, who’s standing just a little too close, his grin still there, like he’s enjoying the whole scene.

– You didn’t think I’d pull it off, did you? – you ask, keeping your voice light, but you know he’s been watching, testing you.

– I might’ve had my doubts, – he admits, glancing at the food, – but I’m starting to think you might just be what this kitchen needs.

You set the plate in front of him, your heart racing a little. You’ve survived. For now.

You watch as Kareem picks up his fork, inspecting the plate like he’s about to face some kind of culinary battle. The corners of his mouth twitch in a playful smirk as he takes a bite of the chicken, his eyes immediately lighting up. He chews slowly, savoring each mouthful, before his gaze shifts to the potatoes. He dips his fork in, taking a scoop with as much care as a connoisseur tasting fine wine.

– Damn, – he says, half to himself, almost in disbelief. – You really did know what you were doing, huh?

You feel a smile tug at your lips, but you don’t let it show too much. – Told you.

His eyes lock with yours as he takes another bite, clearly relishing the moment. – I thought I was just gonna get something...good, but this? – He shakes his head, clearly impressed. – This is something else.

Your chest coils at the praise, heavy, even through the gladness. Yturn to grab the panna cotta, trying to keep your composure. – It’s just food.

– Oh, don’t play humble now, – he teases, voice laced with admiration. – This is art.

You’re not sure if it’s the joke or the way his tone softens just a little, but there’s a small flush creeping up your neck. You focus on serving the dessert, trying to keep your cool. When you turn back, he’s already looking at you like he’s trying to figure out what makes you tick.

– You know, if this was a competition, – he says with a grin, – I’d say you’ve got a pretty solid shot at winning.

You set the panna cotta down, feeling your hands fail you. – You're saying this isn’t a competition?

He takes another bite, face lighting up once again. – Well, I don’t really feel like doing any more interviews.

You wait for the punchline, but instead he just takes another bite, his eyes never leaving yours, a hint of something more behind the humor. The kitchen feels different now, charged, like the food isn’t the only thing that’s being tested.

You chuckle, trying to play it cool, even as you feel yourself trembling. – I do have a shot, then?

Kareem shrugs, but there’s a gleam in his eye as he leans back against the counter, holding the plate as if it was made of solid gold. – I think, you have a job.

You blink, heart skipping a beat. His words hang in the air, playful yet serious, like they’ve both been wrapped in a layer of something unspoken. For a second, all you can do is stand there, staring at him, trying to process whether he’s joking or actually offering something more.

And then the rush of emotions hits you like a wave.

Before you can stop yourself, you practically leap towards him, your arms wrapping around him in a spontaneous hug. It’s a mix of excitement, relief, and something else that you can’t quite put a name to.

– Oh my god, thank you! Thank you so much! – you practically squeal, hugging him tighter than you probably should.

Kareem lets out a startled laugh, but there’s no resistance in his body as he gently pats your back. – You’re welcome, you’re welcome.

You pull back, your face flushing in embarrassment. – Uh, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know what came over me. That was… uh, I mean… you know, too much.

Kareem grins, a mischievous spark in his eyes. – Don’t apologize. You’ve got energy. I like it.

You wince, still a little flustered but feeling slightly better at his easy-going response. – Well, I’m glad you’re not my old boss. He would’ve fired me on the spot.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your awkwardness. – You can hug me whenever you want if you keep cooking like this. That’s a trade-off I’m willing to make.

You stare at him, your heart still racing a little from the interaction, but there's something else beneath it, something lighter.

– Alright, well, next time I’ll just hand you a plate of burnt toast and see if you still want to hug me then.

Kareem laughs loudly, shaking his head. – I’m not that picky.

Your chest tightens, but it’s not out of nervousness. It’s excitement, maybe even anticipation. You force yourself to focus, taking a deep breath. – Well, I do have a few more tricks up my sleeve. So, if you’re lucky…

– Oh, I’m lucky alright, – he says, his tone low and serious. His gaze flicks to your lips for just a moment, then back up to your eyes, his smile still lingering. – I think I’ve hit the jackpot.

Your breath catches, and for a second its like the whole kitchen quiets, the buzz of the conversation fading as your mind tries to catch up with what just happened. But just as quickly, Kareem’s grin widens, and he’s back to normal, as if nothing happened.

You're not sure it did, now.

– Seriously, though. You’re definitely the kind of person I want in this kitchen. You’ve got a future in this.

The weight of his words is still heavy, but you let out a laugh, easing the tension a little. – Guess we’ll see, won’t we?

– Oh, we will. – Kareem raises his eyebrows, clearly amused. – Well sit down and eat already, did you put poison on the food or something?

– Who knows, maybe mr. Carrera sent me down here to kill you.

Kareem raises an eyebrow. – Sounds like something he would do.

You laugh, shaking your head. – No poison, I promise. But hey, if it were, I’d say I’d be going down with you. Can’t let you go alone.

He chuckles, taking another bite of his food. – And who's gonna finish the pana cotta when I'm dead?

– Well, when you're out of the way I'm probably be busy basking in all that glory. – You take a sip of the water he poured you, but when you look up, Kareem takes a deep breath, his face suddenly worried. – Oh God. Did I overdo it with the joke, that was a little...

– No, no. That’s not what that is. It's just this thing you should know. – Your face falls. – It’s not that horrible…

– So it is.

– I can’t hire you without telling you. I mean, you're already hired. But I should tell you. – He plays around with the food for a moment. – The job is good. The pay is good, better than what you’re gonna get slaving away at some place like the Wreck.

– So, what's the catch?

He looks over his shoulder, and after assessing if you truly were alone or not, he finally says – The employers. – It seems to weigh on him. The way he says it is almost grievous. – There's not a month that goes by without someone being fired for something stupid.

– Jesus Christ.

– Yeah. I mean, Ward is a hard-ass. He complains a lot, he talks big game, but he's fair most of the time. Sarah and Louisa, his daughters, they're fine too, sometimes they whine, but they're mostly okay. It's his wife and his son you gotta worry about.

You mull on that for a moment, staring at your plate. – Why is that?

Kareem huffs. – Rafe and Rose, they'll find issues with the slightest things if they're pissed, sometimes, even when they're not. I've heard them screaming at staff for no reason, making people cry. Just— He looks deeper at you, almost pensive. – just don't get in their way.

– Is that what happened to the last person in the job? They got "in the way"?

The question slips out before you can stop it, and as soon as the words leave your mouth, you notice a subtle shift in Kareem’s demeanor. His wavers just slightly, pausing mid-bite. For a split second, his eyes flicker over to the door again.

Before you can backpedal, Kareem clears his throat and leans back slightly in his chair, a more measured tone entering his voice. – The last guy, I don’t even know. Randomly fired, like out of nowhere. He’d been working here for a while, but one day, bam. Gone.

He glances over his shoulder, looking like he's weighing whether to continue. There's a brief hesitation, and you notice his jaw tighten just slightly. – Don’t really know the full story, but I heard it was… – He stops himself just as he’s about to finish the sentence.

You feel the sudden weight of the moment, but just as you’re about to press him further, the door swings open, and you both look up in surprise.

Rafe walks in, his presence filling the room immediately. There’s something unmistakable about the way he carries himself—like he’s constantly aware of the effect he has on people. His eyes scan the room quickly, lingering just a little too long on Kareem, before drifting over to you.

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