#but the truth is that i have also been dragging some of these around with me for literal years and there is a Reason they are top kudos'd

[thesamoanqueen]

Blackwater XX

Warnings/AN: I should apologize for the drama but its my trademark at this point, I'll just say that there's a flashback and a couple of references to previous chapters. As soon as possible I'll create a masterlist dedicated to the series, because I have contents that I want to add since we are at the end. Lemme know if someone wants a tag there too~

Trouble ahead.

He showed up unexpectedly, grumbling about the mud that had gotten on his expensive shoes, the usual penguin-like gait and Jimmy rolled his eyes, waiting for him to finally reach them because they couldn't have continued at all if he was around. And it had nothing to do with a tactical move to hide plan from the enemy, it was simply impossible to ignore or avoid Paul Heyman and if once Jimmy would have laughed, now Paul was just annoying and the expression on Jey's face proved it.

- "Nice place, in your style" – he commented, without greeting or trying to pretend too much – "reminds me the days I used to come visit your dad, both of you were three, four maybe" – and Jimmy folded his arms.

Sure, their style wasn't their cousin's luxury stuff, the one Paul had accustomed him to. At that moment he was probably having breakfast in a restaurant downtown or a sauna to cool down his muscles, but he too had cut his teeth at the garage near Oak Wood Hills. Jimmy still remembered the afternoons spent there after school to see the red Jeep Cherokee that Roman had become obsessed with, he bought the damn car as soon as Uncle Sika came back from one of his trips and now instead he drove around in black businessman's SUVs and looking after the community with checks he couldn't spend on himself.

- "Did you get lost Og? Want me to call your daddy so he can pick you up?" – he asked and Paul must have had colic judging by his reaction.

- "No. Im here to talk."

- "Wow really?! Mind-blowing!"

The colic became a reproachful look at his sarcasm, but still Jimmy was not impressed and when Jey decided to come closer to support him, Paul wisely quit, once again showing off the best acting skills to save his ass.

- "Even though I remember what was said at the meeting, Im here with good intentions. Of course, it hurt me if I have to tell the truth, I don't understand where the aversion against me comes from... but despite this I couldn't refuse in my heart to help" – he began and Jimmy blinked confused.

- "Have you had a heart transplant?" – he urged, matching his attitude.

Paul didn't take that joke well either, but he had nothing to complain about, everyone knew how things were. The wiseman didn't help anyone if he didn't have something back, goodness was not among his qualities and it was impossible he had found some of it within himself now that he was personally involved. His feelings worked on command, according to occasion and business.

- "He thinks I'm dumb ass" – Jey said out of nowhere, staring at him.

He had crossed the edge since the boys' were dragged into the family mess and now his goal was just putting an end to it all. For him that war was an unbearable burden, Jimmy knew how he was, he knew Jey just wanted to start over, have some peace and he didn't like Paul's fake visit because it also added provocation to his worries. He would probably have put up with Roman, but not Paul, Paul wasn't family to him and those turns of phrase were making him nervous.

He heard the wiseman noises, trying to stay in control even though Jey's gaze didn’t help his attempts.

- "What? No, of course not, I’d never think bad about you! The Tribal Chief had chosen you as his right-hand man, a fool would not have had such an honor or right to speak in family business."

He thinks we're both dumb.

That stunt pushed Jimmy to clench his fists in annoyance, but didn't have time to silence Paul because his brother really didn't seem in the mood that day and had come forward again.

- "I had no right. He take all the decisions, with you, from day one."

He hadn't been around when that deal or alliance or whatever it was between him and Roman had come about, he'd been forced away from home for months, but Jey was there and kept him updated on everything. They had kept him on the sidelines of the family business from the beginning and the right-hand man title with their tricks had become a joke they made real when it suited them. Jey had taken it seriously despite everything, he had committed to the vision and tried, but it only make him run everywhere and get beaten. When Jimmy came back everything was already done and things had even gotten worse after.

- "Jey…" - he heard Paul negotiating trying to slow things down, realizing maybe that his sweet words were no longer having the planned effect - "when you're at the top you often find yourself in unpleasant situations, it's not for everyone, you're starting to understand it too how it is bearing the weight of that position. At the meeting you made some choices... let's say questionable ones... listening an advice would have been right for you if I may, to judge pros and cons. I'm here to offer you a second chance, I care about you even if you don’t care about the wiseman."

Jimmy hadn't expected his brother to discuss those terms in front of the elders, it had been strange and even he had been amazed, because Jey hadn't talked to him first about anything. But whatever plan he had if he had one, leaving a door open for Solo and even Y/N, Jey didn't need any second chances, especially not thanks to Paul. Jimmy was there to cover his back and it would always be like this, he didn't need counselors and dogs licking his feet to sleep better at night.

I can handle him.

His offer echoed through the link, but Jey didn't answer.

- "I know you're angry now and maybe it won't seem that way, but all this will help you, trust me it can be good for you, it's part of your journey to take the place of the Tribal Chief one day" – he persisted and Jimmy decided to step forward, ready to send him back to where he came from with good ass kick.

- "Imma take his place next week" – Jey stopped him, voice far too calm.

The day. It was just a week away. At the dawn after the harvest moon things would no longer be the same. Jimmy had been hoping for a change for years now, in the last few months he had chased it like a breath of air, now that was so close it was an almost surreal feeling, but Jey already seemed in control and ready.

- "It could happen... of course..." - Paul hesitated, avoiding answering to Jey push - "its essential, however, that the family is preserved and all of this, lemme tell you, is a dangerous gamble now. The elders have agreed to restore order, but we're all worried about what will happen next, them, me, your parents, even Y/N... poor girl, she can't rest knowing what’s going on and what could come" - he tried, pulling out an apologetic face that he could have avoid considering what relationship he had with Y/N.

- "None of them should be. The only one who needs to worry is you, because when I'm done, you'd better be far away. Bring back your advice, speeches and ass to my cousin, Og, don’t make say it twice" – Jey quickly silenced him though, stopping his tantrum by placing a hand on his shoulder.

Jimmy watched him stiffen as if someone had growled at him, face pale and shaken, his gaze going from Jey's fingers to eyes, which had been fixed on him from the moment he showed up. The realization of failure hit him right in front of them, a mixture of affront, anxiety and worry that Jimmy watched Paul shake off in the same way as Jey's hand, scrambling a few steps back to make room between them. He nodded to who knows who, body shaking as he sorted out his expensive clothes and pride.

The harvest moon was near, so their mother said. That year it was time to reap what they had sown.

***

Devil's Point, that's what the sign they passed on the way said and it really must have been one of devil’s tricks, because Y/N felt her stomach flipped. Or maybe wasn't the devil, maybe it was just another perfect date, pleasant anxiety, wine and fresh air caressing her warm face, sun slowly sinking beyond the strip of sand and trees, setting the sky on fire. Maybe the devil was Roman, with his gentleman manner, so confident, constantly eyeing her, always attentive, his low velvet voice. The bond had always been there, in her veins, in her bones. An invisible impulse born with them, as their lives went on and years passed, omnipresent, indissoluble, inevitable despite miles and obstacles. And more Y/N lingered in that trap easier it seemed to fall, normal deserving the life she hadn't had, a security she didn't know and now all around her, emanating from Roman.

Where has he been all this time? We were alone…

- "Have you ever looked for me?" – she asked out of nowhere, putting the dessert away.

A chocolate cake, because it was her favorite and he worked hard to please her, learning quickly and put into practice even the most insignificant details.

Roman looked surprised at the change of subject, putting down his glass.

- "Have you ever looked for me before that evening, when you found me at the camping?" – she asked again, feeling anxiety suddenly hit even though it had been her idea to investigate, happiness quickly dissolve into doubts.

Y/N didn't even know why she asked. It was an uncomfortable question, the search for a mate was a now past custom, too low probabilities and a world where alternatives had now become norm. It was stupid to expect something and unnecessarily provocative, what's more in their case, after all the first few months problems, it sounded a bit like an accusation or an attempt to ruin plans. Roman however didn't lose his composure and she saw him take a deep breath, brow furrowed as he remembered.

- "Years ago. When I finished college, did it for a while, then stopped."

- "Why?"

He looked at her in silence, but he didn't seem angry or bothered.

She needed to hear it, to know.

- "… had become frustrating. I needed to focus on what I could accomplish."

So real. So true.

Few could say they were lucky enough to find their other half. Rare cases, exceptions. Was it sad to meet someone, choose them and fit in? No, most people out there did it like that, she herself had witnessed it with her parents before the horror, but sometimes people couldn't even find someone, sometimes they were not chosen or stopped wanting each other and then yes, it became sad. For Y/N having someone in her life had never been an aspiration, a dream to cherish when night became too cold or silence too heavy. Getting attached was a risk, risks were dangerous and in her case, as an omega, alone and without a family or a community, it was better to avoid rather than defend. She had to be smart, loneliness had kept her alive, had kept her going, was the possibility of filling the void that scared Y/N. It scared her to get used to someone and lose everything again. She knew what Roman was talking about, a perpetual aftertaste on her lips when she moved away from a place and now she was founding out that she had never really been alone. She had always had a chance, someone waiting for her, ready to fill that void that for Y/N had become like an old illness she lived with.

Roman had been looking for her, among so many people, even if only for a while he really had and it was… so reassuring.

- "You didn't" – she heard him reflect, moving closer to put his jacket on her shoulders.

There was knowledge in his voice, a heavy bitterness, as if he didn't need to hear Y/N say it. She watched him take another sip of wine to warm himself or perhaps wash away the taste of that thought, enduring the cool evening for her.

- "I did it once… just once" – she admitted, surprising him and even herself.

She had never thought about that day before, but memory had hit her soon through her she-wolf, perhaps to console him. She didn’t like that look on his face, he was better all cocky and flirting.

- "I have been in foster care for couple of years after I lost my parents. I went from one house to another, it didn't work and I really didn't want to stay. There was a brunette white girl in one of the families, she didn't like me, talking behind my back all the time... I told her I’d find you and make her regret it" – she said, shaking her head at the thought of that childish menace.

Y/N didn't remember the reason for their fight, it could have been anything, she was an unbearable girl herself at the time, but she knew how she had felt. It was vivid in her memory. That sense of not belonging, absolute loneliness, anger, so much anger at the idea of being and being able to be just a stray in the future. The world is too big a place when life decides to give its worst lessons. Y/N had always grown up quickly, she had always learned running, what to be without roots, what to do if there is no one waiting.

- "We can pay her a visit" – Roman proposed casually and Y/N stared at him, because of all the things he could have said, she hadn't expected that.

No pitying comments, no words of comfort or judgement, just a blind complicit willingness to indulge her past madness.

- "Mmh I'm tempted" – she giggled softly.

- "What happened?" – heard him ask and pointed to her arm, where there was a scar similar to the one he had.

- "I stole her dad’s car and destroyed their fence" - she said, making him frown.

She had gotten into that pick-up without knowing how to drive or what to do, it didn’t end well, they caught her immediately and in hurry she had taken everything and everyone down. One of the poles around property had broken the pick-up window and the wire wrapped around it had threatened to blow her arm off, it was a miracle she hadn't fainted there. One of the biggest dumb act of her life and at the same time another lesson, proving Y/N she shouldn't be carried away by her omega impulses, it didn't bring anything good.

- "I stayed in town for a while I think, then left without looking back. I have no idea what happened to the pick-up or her. I didn't find you though... it was enough for me."

Admitting it, thinking about it, made her feel vulnerable. She didn't like that feeling. That attempt had been a failure from the start, chances of meeting him simply by walking a few miles, going to any city, any street, had been zero and even if he had been there, messed up as she was by pain, Y/N wouldn't even know she had found him. She had been stupid, irresponsible, mindless but realizing when it got dark she was still hopelessly alone had been worse.

She shrugged, picking up the dessert to distract and control herself.

It was over now.

- "We'll make things right, you have my word. It will be enough to be together, there's no need to think about it" – she heard Roman assure, once again without excuses or pity, firm in his intentions – "no more car rides though"– he added with a reproachful look that made her smile.

No, there was no need to think about the past. Everything had already changed and Y/N had learned her lesson, but maybe it was time to learn something else, trying not to run away this time. It seemed easy at the time and yes it really all came down to being enough for each other, filling the void with their bond.

For days Roman's routine had always been the same, calculated to the second, with no margin for error or change. He woke up before dawn, shower, breakfast and run, spend the morning in the gym, then lunch and gym again until dinner time, after which he lock himself in the office taking care of the documents Paul brought or business that required his supervision, and then join her in bed when it was already late night and repeat everything the next day. He was locked in a bubble, focused on a single goal, counting minutes, preparing in advance for whatever would or could happen. An absolute, maniacal dedication that Y/N somehow admired. It made her proud to see that he was capable of so much and yet it also made her sad.

Because in the wild run of that family war, she was just a spectator. She repeated to herself that she had to be patient, be understanding, that she had to put aside anxieties and bad moods to support him as better as she could, but it weighed on her. She did whatever not to show it, not to think about it, and despite her efforts Y/N felt everything around her emptying and cooling, her sacrifices devalued and even ignored. They almost didn’t speak to each other anymore and certainly not about what they should have because there was no time for doing it, they didn’t spend together and when that happened he was focused on something else, Y/N had the feeling of having gone back to the days when they were two strangers, two separate worlds united by a thin wire.

She didn't want that, they weren't like that, they had both worked hard to make things work, succeeding, they had truly found themselves at the end. The idea they were affecting their relationship, the possibility to distance themselves so bad to spend a life like that, wasn't something Y/N could bear. They had overcome differences, they shouldn't have burned everything because they didn't see things the same way in war where their relationship was not in play. They just had to meet once again and remember. He had taught her that and Y/N hadn't believed him for a long time, but they really needed their bond.

On the now empty table on the patio, she opened the floor plan of her old house, the one she had had to leave and Roman had given her back. It was nothing compared to what she had now, but it could become something, maybe just for them, a place where nothing and no one could disturb them.

***

Day after day his body pushed further and further, urged by pressure, focused on a single goal from which Roman couldn’t look away. He couldn't afford any mistakes with Jey, Roman knew he could beat him and he would, but his cousin knew him better than any other out there. They were certainly on two different levels, however Roman couldn't allow him to prove anything if he wanted to regain the absolute control that the elders had questioned due to too many mistakes in those months. And it was for these reasons that getting out of his head, stopping and having those breaks had become an annoying obligation that he fulfilled in the shortest time and avoiding any extra thoughts. Lose focus was a weakness, give ground an advantage, something he couldn't tolerate.

When he closed the door behind him, the house was silent as if he were the only one around. It had been like this for a long time, but time had passed. Now it wasn’t empty, Y/N was there and not finding her in the living room as had been the case for days forced him to follow her trail to the outside. He expected to find her busy, but not to see her with all those papers on the table.

Why is she looking at them? Why she got that floor plan again?! Stop her. Now.

- "What are you doing?" – he asked, voice heavy and she immediately raised her head with a weak smile, one that she could have addressed to anyone, not to him.

- "Nothing, I was waiting for you. Is it already time for your break?"

If it was an attempt to push away the conversation or pretend, it didn't work. He knew those documents, he had signed them and he had been clear telling her not to get any strange ideas about her family's old house, and yet she was there looking at them page by page at a moment like this.

- "I asked you what you think you are doing Y/N" – he repeated seriously, convincing her to put them down.

- "I was keeping myself busy while I waited for you to finish. I answered."

He saw Y/N keep her gaze on him, head held high, back straight, but Roman still sensed what was behind, tension, heavy air. It was since he said he would no longer have regrets that Roman had seen her react like this and in the last few days the atmosphere had gotten even worse. She didn't comment, didn't ask, she stopped trying to argue, she was good at not showing it, but his wolf could sense it when he lay down next to her at night, saw the way she looked at him. It wasn't a good idea for her to punish his cousins despite what they had done to him, she couldn't stand the prospect of a fight, she had promised to stand by his side no matter what and after a year she still rejected his mark when she shouldn't have even had to choose whether to have it or not, now she also took out the floor plan of her old house even though he had given her another one, one for them, better.

We told her not to act like this, she doesn't need that house. We did everything, we gave everything to her.

He had spent the last year dedicating himself to their bond, proving time and time again that he was worthy, that he would be a good mate for her, he was doing so even facing his own family. Shielding their future family even before their bloodline was born. Jey e Jimmy had ruined his plans, it wasn’t his fault, he was risking everything for what they would have built together, for their future. He had proven who he was, Y/N had to know, no one before him had ever achieved so much, no one would ever bear such a burden, there was no alpha out there on his level able to take care of her and anyone else. She couldn't think about them again, she couldn’t doubt, it was crazy!

- "What Im doing is to keep everything for us, protect what we have" – he explained to her for the umpteenth time, seeing Y/N stop that attempt of a smile understanding what direction their conversation was taking, as he approached the table.

He didn't like losing his temper with her, he didn't want to, but Y/N had a fastlane to pushing him in any situation and that was definitely the wrong one. Why she was throwing it in his face? At home, while he spent the days preparing to end the mess out there and start again together?!

- "You say it all the time, I know."

Her and her mouth…

- "Because that's the only thing that matters, not sitting here fantasizing about alternatives."

- "Ain't fantasizing about anything. You're so focused that we don't spend more than ten minutes together, I thought we could have a break for a bit, do something together when it's all over... but I guess it's a no if you react like that."

No, she couldn't blame him. This mess wasn't his fault, he was fixing it, it wasn't on him!

- "I don't have time to plan these things, not when I have all the work to do and problems keep piling up! I told you this too. You should have get it by now what has priority and instead we are here discussing because you keep putting these ideas in your head!"

- "My apologies, my Tribal Chief, is that good?" – he heard her reply, mocking him and he froze.

He looked at her angrily, as if they were back to the days when she couldn't stand him and he was always on the verge of exploding. He looked at her out of his mind, mouth twitching, but she wasn't even giving him attention, too busy keeping her eyes somewhere other than him, in an act of submission that was more a provocation than an apology. He ran a hand over his beard, clenching his jaw, but it was just too much and he lowered himself, leaning on the table to tower over her. Her scent, so familiar, usually so comforting, immediately filled his lungs, a regenerating peace that clashed with their fatigue and that Roman felt once more from Y/N, her body stiffening as soon as his breath hit her cheek.

He was the Tribal Chief and would remain so until God woke him up again. People out there could have planned trials, clashes, attacks, anything, nothing would have changed. But she was different, she was not one of those folks. Y/N might not have his mark, she might claim every freedom she wanted, Roman would put up with it to please her, to make her happy, because she deserved it, but still didn't change anything. They wouldn't go back to those hellish days where they were nothing.

- "I'm more than that to you" – he reminded, seeing her nod.

- "I know" – she replied immediately, finally turning around.

Her eyes, dark as the water of the river that ran through Roman’s land, almost seemed to suck him in. Two sharp chasms where he had looked for her for months, until found her huddled at the bottom waiting for him. Roman had dragged her out of there, he had given her everything, all of himself and he would do it again every day, without holding back or thinking about it and that was exactly why he was acting like that. If it wasn't for him, she would still be there, alone and with no future.

- "Make that stuff disappear before I do it" – he ordered, straightening up.

Y/N didn't move, her eyes still on him, as Roman decided he'd had enough of that pause, walking away. Her reaction reached him through the bond, when he crossed the threshold to go back inside: a mixture of anger, pain and sadness.

It hurts.

It hit him like a wave, alarming his wolf despite the fight, but it disappeared just as quickly, as if Y/N had wiped it away and Roman took a second to look at her through the windows, check, while she gathered everything on the table, head down and in silence.

He had to focus on what needed to be done. Distractions were just more problems.

We’re doing it for everyone. She will understand soon.

***

She had put everything back in his office, locking the desk drawer almost throwing away the key.

Why is he acting like this? What did we do wrong?

Her she-wolf felt confused, hurt and so was Y/N, with a good amount of anger on top of that. She was trying with all of herself, she was doing everything every day to make things work, to not disappoint him, to be up to the task, to not miss the opportunity for a good life. She had learned to ignore what didn't require a reaction, to be understanding when with anyone else would have freaked out, she was trying to be a better version of herself for her sake and for Roman. Was it such a bad idea? She knew Roman was fighting for their place, for his packland, but she hadn't suggested to leave everything and disappear, she would never have done it because she knew what it meant, she just thought they might have a safe space somewhere else... in a future less sad and complicated. That house was important to Y/N, she wanted to do her part, help, give back doing something like Roman had done with the house they lived in now, share.

It's already his though.

His property... that's why he snapped?

Roman had considered it a waste of time, a fantasy to be put away... after all, why he should pay attention to something no one wanted to take away at that moment? something far from his family war, from the packland. It already belonged to him, her she-wolf was right to justify him, Y/N had pushed him first, there was nothing to share or fix there and Jimmy's words came back to her mind. She had thought about doing something for them and instead she had really wasted time.

“The house… you bought it to give her nowhere to run away from you.”

It was a gift. For us.

Roman had said so and Y/N had felt so special. But it had his name on it, everything, every sheet of paper.

He wanted to make us happy. The best for us.

“I don't want you to go there, okay? This is your place now, it's your home and you have to stay here. But one day maybe we can fix it and go together.”

One day. Maybe…

Together.

Maybe? now the memory sounded like a dad tricking his daughter into not throwing a tantrum.

Smell of aftershave mixed with something familiar distracted Y/N, reminding her that she was still in the office and she turned to stare at the door just before seeing Paul arrive with a folder of documents in his arms.

- "Y/N! I thought you were out for one of your runs" – he said after a second too long, tone surprised and suspicious, as he looked at her standing there –"… you alright? "

No one was allowed to go upstairs unless it was necessary, but business those days seemed a matter of life and death, so it was hardly surprising. The last safe place for her would have been the bathroom.

- "You seem a bit…"

- "Take comments for yourself, there's no point in having a conversation" – she said, moving away from the desk with the intention of disappearing, but Paul wouldn't have been Paul if he hadn't decided to ruin her day already messed up.

- "Of course not, but I think you’ll want to know I went to talk with the twins. Didn’t go as hoped. Jey… he doesn't listen" – he admitted with disappointment, taking her place to add more documents to those already placed everywhere and Y/N finally recognized what that other scent on him was.

- "He doesn't like you, it was pretty obvious."

The idea of talking sense to Jey had been stupid. Maybe Jimmy could have been a possibility even if he was the one who started shit, he would have talked to a wall regardless of his sympathies, but Jey? No, Jey wasn't made for those things and both him and Y/N shared the same opinion of Paul. Sure he had had more time to learn to tolerate the so called wiseman, but Y/N had known from the very first moment he wouldn't accept any proposal Paul was going to make him.

- "You do though. He allowed Solo and you to stay if… well you know – he threw it there with such nonchalance, but she wasn't willing to tolerate, it was the wrong day – "he’s attached to you, he think about you as someone to protect."

What is he trying to say?!

- "What I know is that they shouldn't fight and that you Paul, said you would make sure to avoid it."

The brilliant idea of saving her during the meeting a few days before had taken Y/N by surprise too, there was no agreement or plan behind it, she didn't even know why at that moment, with everything that was happening, Jey had decided to expose himself for her. She was almost absolutely certain it wasn't something normal in situations like the one they were in, she was Roman's mate and Jey was threatening to take everything away from him after all, but whatever was the reason it didn't matter because it wasn't what they needed to focus on, especially not Paul.

- "I fear that stopping everything is no longer an option, we don’t have time, they have sworn in front of the family now. Neither of them can back out" – heard him say with a funeral face that didn’t inspire pity in her.

- "So that ridicolous meeting was the point of no return?!" – she snapped and he choked, hands reaching out in an attempt to stop her when Y/N nerves were undergoing yet another stress test.

She respected Roman's family, she respected their traditions, but it was unthinkable to Y/N that a handshake was an unbreakable pact, not when both sides were risking everything and whoever was supposed to advise them, stop them, watched or made things worse. She couldn't, it was something she couldn’t understand. They were a family, they had to act like a family, not fighting.

- "I wouldn't talk like that, let's try to breath now okay? Think about it. There are other ways to swing things in our favor, I'm already working on something. An idea in the right ears works wonders."

- "You're working on something" – she repeated, feeling blood go straight to her head.

Yep, sure, after all they had time to act with calm, there was a week to go and everything was already a disaster, but who cared? They could also sit, chat, think and judge who remained to be sacrificed so they could sip a drink under the patio when their bright future would be on hand.

- "I know, I understand your concern, but if you decided to be more cooperative it would help a lot and speed things up. The twins are stubborn, but Jey making all these decisions on his own could work to our advantage if we prove that he isn't capable of"- he tried, but it wasn't the right day for her to listen his sneaky little games.

- "I won't help you making anyone believe anything. You are the wiseman, be the wiseman, find a way, just do it" – she silenced him, leaving the office without waiting an answer.

She wanted that fight, everything to end once and for all, she wanted to go back to months ago when Y/N had thought she could have everything missing in her life, she wanted a family, Roman to annoy her with his daily nonsense instead of dramas to survive and manipulations on a daily basis. She was tired and for the first time since the beginning even if she tried hard… she couldn't see the end.

Breath. Calm down. Don’t lose control, we can’t allow it. Breath.

***

Right, left, right, left, right, left again. The punching bag was easy to predict every time Roman hit it, Jey wouldn't follow those times when they would have been face to face. At some point he would shift, it was the only way he had to really bring Roman down. As both man and wolf, Roman was bigger than his cousin, bruises and broken bones wouldn't keep him down once they were out there, Jey would have to do more and to do so he would have no choice. He was fast, he would aim for multiple points, targeting him, Roman only needed one, the right one, like with the punching bag.

When he hit it seriously, the chain holding it up gave way, sending it down and putting Roman face to face with Solo, standing silently there, even though he hadn't asked to see him.

- "What's up?" – he asked, catching his breath and kicking the punching bag away.

- "He was talking to Y/N upstairs" – Solo said, without mincing words and Roman stopped, staring at him, his sweaty brow furrowed in an attempt to understand.

Y/N couldn't stand the wiseman. She had never liked him, from the first day, it had taken months to convince her to not growl when he approached and now they were talking? Alone upstairs, while he was there training?

- "About what?" – Roman asked, but Solo shrugged his shoulders in a heavy silence Roman had to accept, hiding his annoyance with a grimace.

First in his land. Then in his family. Now in his house. No… not that time.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @sortudademais @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @wrestlingprincess80

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x reader #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns fanfic

[simmonsized]

Idk about other people but I’m always a slut for that old man and I think you got amazing taste so pls rec anything you like anywhere

I think you will find that my taste is actually kind of garbage but like, in a fun way that makes you go "wow really???" rather than being so embarrassed for me that you can never look at me again. of course that would be fine too haha you know, don't yuck my yum etc but I will try to put together my unfuckable old man rec list right here, right now, and we can all just live with that

(mostly because titling a post makes me cringe it's too much attention, and I'm a stereotype)

These come from a section of my actual Fic Rec List, which is massive (by my standards), lives in a googly doc, and is much more embarrassing. this list generally won't include any ship stuff and if it does, i will say so. mind any and all tags.

This section is titled: The Redemption Narrative (lol)

1. Empty Nester - egomaniac (THE WHOLE REASON I MADE A NEW LIST. BRO AND NANNA!!!!!!!!!!!! also bro/grandpa, aka “he fucks that old man”, but not the most important part to me, because as good and tragic and hurtful as their relationship is in this fic, it is dwarfed, to me, by the kindness shared between Nanna and Bro, which once again, to me, is the Crown Jewel of the whole story. PLEASE read this please if u have time A++ endorsement)

2. dualshock desertbloom (the whole fucking series. i hardly need to say why, you should just know by now. i call dd dirkfic, because it is The Dirkfic, u know??)- geometrician (🔶)

3. sun’s angle - dellaluce (they can orphan it all they want but i never forget. very old, but never GETS old, u feel)

4. Hexadyne Meetings - Saesama (the rarity of bro and nanna fics could absolutely destroy me but i really like the interactions between all of the guardians in this one)

5. Flop, Flutter - cthchewy (technicality, big nasty soulless bro yikes sorry)

6. The Estrangement Thing - NoBrandHero (there’s a theme here listen to me don’t be doubtful it’s worth the trouble, there is brojohn in there, which is not my thing at all, but it is NOT relevant to what i like about this fic, and i think if u read it, u will realize that immediately lol (*i am not including second best even though that fic is literally my favorite ds fic ever because it is NOT bro centric))

7. cold front off the pacific - drow_sy (i actually read this bc geometrician bookmarked it lol but it punches down on u and i like that)

8. insect clockwork - SORD (aka, if it was written pre-2013, i’ve read it)

9. Flashing Lights and Raisins - RadioMoth (the strider manpain tag exists for a reason)

10. Hide - Plajus (OG post-sburb type shit. we love to see it)

11. Blackout - lantadyme (bro strider sick fic. Wrow. old shit. I don’t even know how i have held onto these for this many years.)

Things that don't quite fit into the category necessarily but It's MY List Not Yours:

12. signs at sundown - geometrician (I don't need to say it, do I? I think we understand, I do think that. Imagine being canon together with you favorite author. Imagine it. Wow.)

13. No Homo - Laurasauras (bro/dennis. yes, dennis from gamebro. yes, it's good i've said it before i'll say it again. i'm into it, i think you should be too.)

14. flash - problemsloth (this shit is just. absolute chef's kiss to me. i don't know how else to explain it. young bro. he's perfect, and perfectly dreadful)

15. play ball! - spacepuck (this is a johndave fic but it has this very stressful atmosphere around bro and dave that kinda fucks me up and also, delights me beyond reason. it tastes like summer to me. sandlot lookin ass. an old favorite)

#this list is. shorter than it could be and longer than i meant it to be #this is by no means a Full List there's lots of other stuff out there #rabid raccoon rehab is for everyone obviously #and i am not a person who reads a ton of ship fic so if there are good fics that also have ships in them i probably just haven't read them #lol sorry about that #sloth has a brodad that's on my to-read which i think will probably be added to the actual doc but at this time i have not read it #i want to say i take recs but the truth is they will probably end up in the shameful pile of Marked For Later that grows taller and taller #every day that passes by #well anyway i just wanted to talk about empty nester like an insane person so #i want to say u can just like. plug in all the things i have excluded on ao3 for bro's tag and then sort by kudos and these will pop up #but the truth is that i have also been dragging some of these around with me for literal years and there is a Reason they are top kudos'd #to me #anyway yeah okay sure whatever sorry this is just. hells of embarrassing it's all homestuck it's all bro related sorry #for non bro centric fics consider begging on ur knees or it will never see the light of day #actually i think you'd have to pay me or weasel your way into my server. it's not happening is what i'm saying #ANYWAY OKAY FINALLY IT IS DONE

[prettyboykatsuki]

— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

#bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #writing tag #waah. i love them all

[flickering-chandelier]

It’s Cool, We’re Just Friends

Pairing: Azriel x BestFriend! Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been besties for years, until one night has them crossing into uncharted territory.

Warning: Steamy at the end whoops

Word Count: 2.8k

The rooftop garden at Rhysand’s townhouse was one of your favorite places in the world. It was one of the only places that you could often have to yourself when you needed some time for quiet reflection. You loved to lounge up there, especially at night when you could watch the City of Starlight come to life before your very eyes.

The only thing better than having the rooftop all to yourself was sharing it with your best friend, Azriel.

You smiled as he appeared, smoothly landing a few feet from you, his eyes sparkling, his shadows vanishing as he smiled at you.

He dragged the empty iron chair closer to you and settled in, stretching his wings out behind him, placing his hands behind his head, leaning back casually. He only sat this way when it was just the two of you, when he didn’t have to keep up appearances as the Night Court’s spymaster and shadowsinger.

“What did you do today?” he asked, looking out at the light and life of the city.

“Trained with Cassian. Hated my life,” you said, shifting in the iron chair to ease some of the soreness in your back.

Azriel laughed quietly, his eyes flicking to you as you tried to get comfortable. “Cassian always has that effect on me, too.”

You scoffed, lightly swatting at his bare bicep. “Don’t be mean. You love your brother.”

He sighed, smiling lightly at you. “Then what?”

“Mmmm,” you pondered, running through your day in your mind. “Oh! I finished my book!”

“The one about the forbidden love?” He lifted his eyebrow.

“Yes!” you squealed, excitedly. “It was so good.”

“Let me guess,” he said, his voice teasing in that way that he saved just for you. “They finally got together and lived happily ever after?”

“Yes! How did you know?” You teased.

He shook his head, smiling. “Anything else?”

“Not really,” you said, studying him. He was the only person you had ever met who actually wanted to know the answer when they asked you how your day was. “What did you do today?”

Azriel shrugged, looking out at the city again, the flickering lights below reflecting in his eyes. “Not much.”

“Are you kidding me?” You leaned forward in your seat, gawking at him, and he laughed. “I tell you everything about my boring day, and that’s your answer?”

His smile faded though as he leveled a gaze at you, his eyes sweeping over your face. “I wanted to spare you the details.”

Your blood turned cold at his serious expression. Azriel and you had been best friends for years, ever since you had fled your home in the Autumn Court. From your old home, you had gone north, nearly freezing to death in the Winter Court before the shadowsinger found you and gave you refuge in Velaris. The two of you were kindred spirits, hitting it off instantly. His brothers and his other friends had eventually told you that he immediately relaxed in your presence, even from the beginning, and that he had never seemed so comfortable with someone so quickly. You were honored to be his friend, thanked the stars every night that he had found you and saved your life.

He had been fiercely protective of you from the beginning, wanting to shield you from the realities of what his life was like outside of Velaris. You hated to admit it, but you did get squeamish thinking about what you knew Azriel sometimes had to do -- the torture, the blood, the screams. The thought of him sneaking around in dangerous territories, watching enemies, gathering intel on the in’s and out’s of their lives… it made you more worried than you could express.

But, you also hated not knowing what he was doing, if he was safe. It took months, but you eventually convinced him that you could handle at least the vaguest details of the missions he went on. You knew that he would never be willing to tell you the whole truth, knew that he didn’t want you to think of him that way -- the ruthless, unyielding shadowsinger.

“Oh,” you said finally. “Are you okay?”

Still, he would usually tell you something. So, if he was unwilling to tell you what he had been doing today… it must have been something very dangerous indeed.

His eyes softened as he gazed at you. “I am now.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sweet Illyrian before you. “You can talk about it, you know. If you have to. I’m here for you,” you reached across the space between you, gently taking his hand.

Azriel’s gaze landed on your hand clasped with his, his expression softening to barely detectable sadness that made you heart hurt. “I know you are,” he said softly.

You studied him for a moment, eyes trailing over that beautiful face that you had memorized. He was in his fighting leathers, tattoos peeking out from under his collar, trailing down his bare arms, his strong biceps that were the size of your head, his massive wings stretched out behind him.

And his rough, scarred hand gently holding yours.

You tugged on his hand gently, so his eyes met yours again. “Want to take me for a ride?”

He smirked, an expression that had taken months of friendship to unlock. “You sure you want to?”

“You seem like you could use a distraction,” you murmured.

Azriel held your gaze for a beat longer before he stood up and scooped you into his arms, only pausing for a moment to smile at you before he shot up into the sky.

Flying with your Illyrian friends had taken a long time for you to get remotely used to, and even now it sometimes made your stomach churn. But you knew it helped clear Azriel’s mind, and you liked the time you got to spend with him in the air, just the two of you.

He held you close against him, his arms wrapped behind your back and under your knees. You rested a hand on his chest, reveling in your opportunity to study him while his eyes were trained on his surroundings. No matter how much time you spent with your friend, his beauty never ceased to amaze you.

You could feel the tension in his body slowly loosen as he flew above his city, a light breeze gracing against your skin, running through your hair through the shields that he put up around the two of you.

Dipping his head, bringing his mouth to your ear, he murmured, “Thank you.”

You curled into him, resting your head on his chest. He tightened his grip on you slightly.

Sometime later, he landed back on the roof, setting you carefully on the ground. Despite his gentle touch, you winced quietly as the muscles in your back ached from your training this morning.

Azriel’s brow furrowed, his hands freezing at your waist, his fingers flexing against your body. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, smiling sweetly up at him.

He arched a brow, not believing it for a second.

“It’s nothing!”

He simply waited, knowing full well that you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for long.

“Okay, fine,” you groaned. “My back hurts. A lot.”

His eyes swam with worry, before narrowing in accusation. “You haven’t been doing the stretches you’re supposed to be doing, have you?”

“Well…” you said, your voice rising a few octaves. “Not all of them.”

He growled your name, his frustration evident. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “They didn’t seem that important at the time.”

“What are you doing?” you squealed, trying and failing not to stare at your best friend’s glorious ass, which was now far too close to your face.

Groaning, he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, heading for the stairs of the townhouse. You shrieked. In all of your years together, he had never done this.

“I’m going to help you solve the problem that you created, because you’re my best friend, and because you clearly aren’t capable of taking care of yourself,” he said, as he stomped unceremoniously down the stairs.

Scoffing, you said, “Is this really a necessary part of it?”

“Yes,” he countered, clearly amused.

You huffed, staying silent as he walked through the mercifully empty halls to your bedroom. He opened the door with his free hand, kicking it shut behind him, before tossing you onto the bed.

“Oww,” you groaned as your back hit the mattress.

The tough guy act faded as soon as you were in pain. His eyes softened. “Sorry.”

“I thought you said you were going to help me,” you grumbled.

“I am,” he said, stalking towards you, his eyes alight. “Lay on your stomach.”

You quirked a brow at him in question, but when he just silently held your gaze, you sighed and did as you were told.

Suddenly, you were very aware of how thin the material of your dress was, how the hem landed just above your knees. You were thankful that he couldn’t see the heat in your cheeks.

The mattress shifted beneath you as he climbed onto the bed. “What are you--”

“Shh.”

Your skin prickled as he settled his calves snug against your hips, straddling you. He remained hovering over your body on his knees. You weren’t sure you were breathing.

“Okay, what are you --”

The air was sucked out of your lungs as his hands found their way to your shoulders, kneading your back with his rough fingers, digging deep into you, working out all the tension that had been building in your muscles for who knows how long.

You weren’t sure if it felt good or if it hurt… both. Definitely both.

He remained silent as he worked out the knots in your back, gradually moving lower and lower, kneading and rubbing.

The lower his hands moved, the more you had to focus not to squirm. You felt the heat of his body, and the things his hands were doing… you couldn't help but imagine what those hands could do in other places.

It’s not like you had never thought about it before. You had always been just friends, but you weren’t blind. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen. And he was always so sweet and kind and protective…

You couldn’t stop the moan that came out of your mouth.

His hands stilled for the slightest moment before he continued kneading your muscles. “You doing okay?” He asked, his voice thick. It made heat spread between your legs. The legs that he was currently holding down with his body.

“Mmhmm,” was all you could manage.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed when he finally lifted his hands from your back. “Is that better?” he asked softly, not moving from his position over you.

You twisted around a bit, testing movements that had made you wince before. After a moment you turned to lay on your back, your body touching his in so many places as you did so. “You’re a miracle worker,” you said, your voice coming out raspy.

He continued to hover over you, his expression unreadable. He leaned closer, bracing his forearms on either side of you, his chest pressing against yours, his face only inches away.

“Az,” you breathed, unable to look away from the heat in his eyes.

His eyes sparked and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, twining a hand in your hair as the other gripped your waist.

Your body responded to his immediately, your hands cupping his cheek, wrapping around the back of his neck.

The kiss started out slow. Azriel was taking his time, and when you opened your mouth for him, his tongue slid in gently, exploring your mouth with such tenderness that you wanted to weep.

You gasped as he pulled away to leave a line of sensual kisses down your neck, his hands running over your stomach, your thighs.. “We should’ve been doing this the whole time,” you moaned, breathless.

He laughed into your skin, and you felt the vibration go through your whole body. You squeezed your thighs together and he groaned, nipping lightly at your shoulder.

“Yes, we should have,” he said, kissing his way up your neck. “We’re idiots,” he laughed before taking your mouth with his again, kissing you deeply.

“So stupid,” you said against his mouth and the shoulders you were clutching shook with laughter.

Azriel continued to kiss you slowly, his rough hand drifting underneath your dress, up your thighs…

“Is this okay?” he pulled his mouth back an inch, his eyes studying your face, his body attuned to your every reaction.

“Az, you’re my very favorite person. I trust you with my life. You can do whatever you want to me,” you said, your voice teasing despite how breathless he was making you.

His eyes sparked, his expression one of affection and disbelief before he smirked, his hand trailing up further. “Whatever I want, hmm?” he murmured, his eyes trained on yours.

You could only stare as his hand stilled, a fraction away from where you really wanted him.

“And what do you want, my dear friend?” he said, his voice velvety in a way you’d never heard before.

“Please,” was all you could manage.

He grinned, waiting a beat before he moved your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your center.

The moan that you let out nearly rattled the walls.

His gaze was trained on you, watching how your body reacted to every move he made. Eventually you tugged his clothes off and he did the same to you, until you were moving together, skin to skin. He moaned your name as he slid into you, setting your body on fire.

He pressed his forehead to yours as he moved inside you, one of his hands holding yours, clutched next to your head, as he kissed your lips gently. He gazed at you when he pulled back, his every movement swimming with affection. “You’re my favorite person,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re the hottest man in the world,” you said just as quietly, your fingers scratching down his back, his wings rippling behind him.

The laugh that rumbled through him made your head spin, and his hips move faster. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he countered, smiling lovingly down at you.

“I was staring at your ass when you slung me over your shoulder,” you admitted.

“I stare at your ass whenever you leave the room,” he grinned, bending down to nip playfully at your neck, his hips not breaking his steady rhythm.

You gasped, swatting his arm. “You do not!”

“I do,” he laughed, kissing your neck.

“I thought you were a gentleman!” you said mockingly.

He looked at you pointedly, slamming his hips into yours more forcefully. The sound that escaped from your throat was filthy.

“I guess you’re learning a lot about me tonight,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.

You rolled your eyes playfully before wrapping a hand around the back of his head, twisting your fingers through his hair as you brought his mouth down to yours.

You didn’t speak again until some time later, when he was holding you close, your legs entwined, your head resting on his bare chest, his wings enveloping you in their warmth.

Idly, you drew shapes and patterns onto his skin with your fingertip. He shivered. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on your finger, moving to trace over his tattoos, too afraid to look at his expression.

His arms tightened around you and he kissed the top of your head. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you.”

Your gaze flicked to him, your eyes wide. He smiled softly down at you. “You have?"

He kissed you gently in response. “How could I not be?” he whispered.

Your bottom lip trembled and he ran his thumb across it. “Don’t cry,” he murmured.

That made you cry. He laughed, his wings wrapping tighter around the two of you, shielding you from the world.

“Such a softie,” he teased, lifting your chin to press a sweet kiss to your mouth.

You grumbled adamantly, burying your face in his chest.

The two of you laid in companionable silence for a while before he broke it. “You’re going to do your stretches from now on, right?”

“If this is the treatment I get when I don’t do them? Absolutely not,” you grinned.

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel one shot #azriel x reader #azriel x you

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 I LAUGH LIKE ME AGAIN (SHE LAUGHS LIKE YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: four years apart and the ultimate question is about to be answered: do you and dazai really still know each other, or are you clinging to a fantasy of the past? you decide to put it to the test with a game of wits and questions when dazai gets back to your apartment—but as the game drags on, dazai starts to wonder if maybe he was wrong. worse, if maybe he would prefer to be wrong.

(wordcount: 14.5k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, jealous!dazai, possessive!dazai, smoking & drinking, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing, im rushing to get this out!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys here it IS - sorry it's late, but TRUST it's worth it. i'm so proud of this fic, genuinely one of the things im most proud of writing. this is technically a part 2 to he's my collar but can be read as a standalone

It takes far too long for Dazai to make it out of the Port Mafia headquarters, with both Akutagawa and Chuuya prowling about like the dogs they are. He wonders if you tipped either of them off—Chuuya, in particular—because the slug had been looking around like he was searching for someone. He thinks you’re entirely wretched for it, knowing that if he got caught, he’d be trapped in that damp and filthy torture chamber until he managed to finagle his way out, and he plans to make it known to you just how entirely displeased he is by the situation. 

The path to your apartment is achingly familiar, and the giddiness in his chest is something he hasn’t felt since the day he left. He knows that he should probably be more careful—he’s still in Port Mafia territory, your apartment spans the top floor of the easternmost building of the five towers—but he also knows that you’re the only one with direct access to the cameras in this building so he’s more reckless than he would’ve otherwise been. 

The floors tick up agonizingly slowly, Dazai swears that there must be something wrong with the elevator because it’s never taken this long before to get up to your place. His fingers thrum against his thigh, and his foot taps the ground impatiently. He paces from corner to corner within the small space like a caged animal. He thinks that maybe he should be taking advantage of the time alone, come up with some better excuses as to why he didn’t say anything to you before he left.

“I wouldn’t have left,” isn’t going to cut it. As true as it might be, it’s not the full truth, and Dazai knows you’ll be able to sniff it out in a matter of a few seconds with a clear head. He’s not walking into a cheerful reunion between old lovers, he’s walking into what’s about to be a stressful game of chess against a strategist whom Dazai has always considered a near-equal, a battle of wits against a woman whose whole life has revolved around political warfare. If he wants to keep his dignity intact and his secrets safe, he’s going to have to be incredibly cautious with what he says to you and even with how he reacts to what you say to him.

Still, he can’t help the giddiness. The excitement. He’s missed you. He’s missed you so much that it hurts. He’d thought that over time, the longing for you would go away, but it never did. If anything, it got worse because, over time, the pictures of you started to lack the soothing feeling they used to bring to the aching in his chest. Over time, he started to forget the sound of your voice and the sound of your laugh.

He’d known that you’d been sent away on foreign business not long after his last call to you, but he didn’t think Mori would actually keep you abroad for three whole years. He’d been hoping, maybe, that he could stumble into you one day. Or maybe just watch from afar, get close enough to hear the sound of your voice again. He’s been grossly denied of you for too long, and he knows that it’s of his own doing but that only makes it worse.

When the elevator dings, announcing his arrival on your floor, Dazai is sorely unprepared for the conversation about to take place. He steps into your penthouse, eyes drifting around the familiar vast space.

Like your office, not much has changed since the last time he was here. Your coffee table is still set down a few centimeters too close to the couch in the living room—the same couch he had his first kiss on with you when the two of you were sixteen and drunk on champagne celebrating a successful mission. You still hang your black jacket over a chair instead of properly on a hanger, it’s why it always has a crease on the back—he’d noticed it when you left your office, and he can’t help but smile slightly at the confirmation as his eyes linger on where it’s draped over one of your kitchen chairs. 

You tried to convince him that you’ve changed in the years the two of you have been apart, but Dazai doesn’t think you’ve changed much at all.

You’re leaning against the windows, looking down on the city—he knows you must’ve heard the elevator, but you haven’t bothered to look his way yet. There’s an indecipherable expression on your face and a glass of wine in your hand. You’re still dressed in your suit and Dazai notices there’s a glass of whiskey on the rocks untouched on the kitchen table. He shrugs off his trench coat and drapes it over yours, hoping that the scent of you seeps into it because he’s gone too long without it.

His fingers curl around the glass of whiskey you’d left out for him, and for a moment, he swears that he’s eighteen again. He’s making his way to your penthouse after a long mission with Chuuya, you’re expecting him—you always are—and he can never push away the fondness that squeezes his chest when he finds you lounging back on your couch, flipping through channels to find something to watch, a glass of his favorite whiskey set down on the coffee table next to where your feet are propped up as you wait for him to show up.

He wonders if you even care to remember what his favorite is. He wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.

He makes his way out of the kitchen and back into the living room, and he’s reminded that he’s not eighteen and you’re not waiting for him to show up after a mission because you finally look at him, and his breath catches in his throat.

He thinks you look a bit older now than you did four years ago—to be expected, of course—and there’s a coldness to your eyes that hadn’t been there before. Impossibly, he thinks that you’re somehow even more beautiful than you were when he last saw you, and he realizes again, throat tightening, that even after three years of no contact with you, he’s just as in love with you now as he was the day he left.

He knew it back then before he left, even if he never said it. When he was eighteen and could only feel any inkling of pleasure when he was with you; it wasn’t like he’d never tried to have sex with other people, he’d whore himself out for information at any given chance and slept around frequently after you started dating a civilian to distract himself from the bitter jealousy he felt, but he’d never known how good it was supposed to feel until he slept with you for the first time. When he was seventeen and could only ever feel comfortable in your presence, seeking you out at any given chance when he couldn’t handle being around people anymore; he’d curl up in your office with your orange blanket, napping as you did work, knowing that you’d keep people away from him. He thinks he might’ve even known when he was sixteen when the two of you first met on the streets of the Kanagawa prefecture.

He wonders if you even believed him when he said it earlier—he doubts it, you don’t seem too keen to believe anything he says, and he doesn’t blame you for it. 

But whether you believe it or not, it’s yours—that rotted heart of his, shriveled and shabby, riddled with holes and decay, half-eaten by maggots and worms it might be, but it’s still yours. He thinks that it was meant to be yours since the moment he was born, and it’ll be yours even after the two of you are long dead. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to go without you again—he doesn’t think he can. He knows that despite the tentative ceasefire, the Port Mafia and the Agency are still enemies, but he knows in his heart that he won’t be able to leave you again. Even just the sight of you has condemned him completely. 

Then you speak, and at once, his entire world falls apart.

“I’m leaving again in the morning,” you finally say, tone flat and eyes sharp and shrewd as you look over him. He reminds himself that this is not a reunion, that he needs to get his head on straight if he wants to make it out of your apartment in one piece, but it’s hard. “I was only brought back to smooth things over with the government after the whole fiasco with Fitzgerald and his American cronies. I’ll be leaving for Russia in the morning to meet with Tolstoy and Nabakov. Hopefully, gain some intel on Fyodor Dostoevsky’s plans before the man makes another move on the city.”

He… did not anticipate that you’d be leaving again so soon. Something cold and sharp latches to his heart, like jagged nails ripping it apart. He makes sure it doesn’t show on his face.

“Be careful,” he tells you quietly. “Dostoevsky… he’s not someone to underestimate. Just-Just be careful.”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, “I’ve worked with Dostoevsky before. I don’t need you to warn me about him.” 

Your voice is cool. Sharp. Dazai sighs, knowing that anything he might’ve said to you earlier in the night is lost to you, and he doesn’t know if he’ll have it in him to bare his heart again, only for you to scorn it. He’s not meeting with you as he knows you—as his closest friend, as his lover; he’s meeting with you as the Port Mafia executive. Not the version of you that treats with allies, wining and dining them with glittering eyes and playful smiles as you use your ability to ensure they never turn on the Port Mafia; the version of you that sits at the round table with enemies, with a quick mind and calculating eyes as you decide whether or not they’re worthy of being absorbed into the Port Mafia or if Double Black will be sent out to eradicate them. 

“I told you everything I had to say back at the office,” Dazai tries, and he wonders if you’ll let him get away with it—he doubts it, but it’s worth a shot, and it will at least stall for a few moments as he tries to forcibly turn the cogs in his mind to figure out the best way of appeasing you. “I missed you. I… couldn’t say goodbye to you, not if I was to leave. I…”

I love you.

He doesn’t say it; he thinks he was only able to push it out earlier in the night in the heat of the moment, the orgasm-induced haze fogging his brain enough to let it slip out in desperation to make you give him a chance. And it worked because you gave him a second chance when you invited him back to your apartment, but Dazai doesn’t know how to make the most of the opportunity. He thinks he’s a fool for not preparing for this before getting here.

You click your tongue sharply, lip curling up in something close to disgust, and Dazai is glad he didn’t speak his ‘I love you’ because he thinks he might’ve actually cried if that was your reaction to him saying it.

“The only things you told me earlier in the night were half-truths and sweet talk. I didn’t invite you back to my apartment to hear you beg for another chance, Dazai,” you say coolly, and Dazai desperately misses the sound of his given name on your tongue. The corner of your lip curves up into a half-smirk, eyes suddenly glittering beneath the dim lighting of your penthouse as you add, “Although, I wouldn’t be opposed to it after we talk.”

He thinks the fact that you’re already considering an after might be a good sign. He can feel his cheeks flush a bit at your words, but instead of letting himself get rattled, he takes a step forward, well into your personal space, as he dips his face down so close to yours that his lips nearly brush yours as he speaks.

“I’d beg pretty for you,” he whispers, letting his voice drop an octave as his gaze tracks down to your lips. “I’d even get on my knees.”

Unfortunately, you are entirely unbothered by the proposition. “We’ll see, I suppose,” you say, and then raise your eyebrows, signaling for him to take a step back.

He does, and he feels distinctly put out and rejected by your reaction, but he sighs and asks, “What did you invite me here for then?” 

He very much does not like the way your eyes glitter now—shrewd this time, more amused, dangerous, as if you know the two of you are about to tread down territory that he’s going to be unfamiliar with. You nod for him to follow you into the kitchen, taking a seat at the head of the table and motioning for him to sit opposite you.

He does.

“We can play a game,” you finally concede. Dazai settles back against his chair, fingers still tapping rhythmically against his glass of whiskey, a terrible habit that Dazai has accrued whenever he feels cornered. Not a frequent occurrence, but damning when it is. Your eyes linger on them, and he knows you’ve pinpointed the tell. He forces himself to stop, but from the way your lips curl up, he can tell it doesn’t matter. “Ten questions each. Yes or no answers only.”

Dazai notices that you pointedly leave out any rule about the honesty of each answer—intentional, surely, so he probes.

“How do we determine the winner?” Dazai asks. He finally takes a sip of the fine whiskey you’d poured for him, and his question from earlier is answered. His favorite. There’s a warm feeling in his chest at the realization that you’ve remembered it even after all of these years.

Your lips curve up into a sharper and wider smile, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the soft lighting of your kitchen. The glass of wine in your hands is suddenly more reminiscent of a gun being pointed at him than your choice of alcohol, and he feels as if he’s already made some egregious mistake in your eyes.

“After we give our answer, the other has to decide whether or not it was truthful. In the end, we’ll both see how many the other got right. A test to see how well we still know each other,” is all you say in response. You’re mocking him and his insistence that the two of you are still the same, but Dazai intends to prove himself right. You tilt your head to the side and then say, “The prize is to be determined by the winner. I’ll ask the first question.”

Dazai winks, a lecherous comment already on his tongue about the prize, but the withering look you give him is more than enough to make it die before he can let it loose. He pointedly takes another sip of his drink and sinks in his seat.

He thinks that this should be an easy win. You’re quite the adept liar, but you’ve always had a glaring tell. Well, he amends, it’s glaring to him, at least. Not many others would be observant enough to catch it, and even if they were, only someone with an abundance of experience with you would be able to put it together. His gaze flickers up to meet yours, wondering if your lashes flutter right before you tell a lie. It’s such a simple and subtle tell, so casual that it took Dazai a year and a half to put together, but it was hard to miss once he did.

You hum to yourself as you give off the appearance of thinking about a question, but Dazai knows you better than anyone, and he’s certain that you already have all ten prepared, so he rolls his eyes at the faux show of uncertainty. 

“We both know you know what you want to ask,” he finally says. “Do us both a favor and quit with the theatrics.”

Your lip quirks up in amusement. “And here I was being gracious giving you more time to formulate whatever lies you’ll try to get away with,” you drawl, and Dazai nearly flinches.

“You know me so well,” Dazai sighs to hide how disconcerted he really is. “The question?”

You stare at him for a moment, and your lips curl up into a deceptively soft smile that almost throws Dazai off because, god, he’s missed you. And he knows you’re looking at him like this just for this specific reason because you’re a despicable bitch who knows that he’s always been easily unsettled when people show any semblance of affection toward him, but he can’t help the way he falters.

He tries to brace himself for whatever invasive question you’re about to ask regarding his reasons for leaving. Tries to prepare himself to lie cleanly because he’s sure you’re as aware of his tells as he is of yours. 

Then you ask: 

“Did you defect because of something Oda asked of you?”

Jesus. Right for the throat. You really don’t pull punches. 

Dazai’s throat tightens at the mention of his old friend, but he’s able to keep his expression clear of the sudden pain that your question brings on. You’re watching him carefully for reactions, gaze hawklike as you study his face, and Dazai is not about to let you pinpoint any more of his tells so early in the game.

He figures that this is an easy question; you already know the answer but want to hear the confirmation from his lips, so he decides to tell the truth.

“Yes.”

“The truth,” you say, an indecipherable expression on your face. He wonders if you want to ask what Odasaku asked of him, but that’s not part of the game and Dazai has no intention of answering that.

Be on the side that saves people. If both are the same to you, become a good man.

You might laugh in his face—Dazai Osamu, the Demon Prodigy, a good man? The idea is blasphemous, and he thinks it might actually hurt him if you scoff or laugh in response to hearing that, so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t give away more than he has to, hoping that you don’t just straight up ask him.

You open your lips to speak, and Dazai braces himself for the prying question, but instead, you only probe, “First question?”

He wonders if your whole first question and the implications of it was just a means of trying to throw him off because now he’s fumbling trying to remember what he wanted to ask you before you hit him with it. He wouldn’t put it past you to play dirty like that—bringing up his dead friend and his last request just to unsettle him to give you the edge.

“Did we meet during my underground years after I defected?” he finally asks, and yeah, he knows the answer to this question. The missing half of his ear and waking up in the old safe house he used to hide out at with you is more than enough evidence for him to come to a definite conclusion, but he wants to hear it from you.

“Yes.”

Dazai inhales sharply and then murmurs, “That’s the truth.” And then, more loudly and far more affronted, he accuses, “I can’t believe you shot half of my ear off.”

He expects you to toss him a wink and a sharp grin, unrepentant and even finding amusement in his offense, but instead, your expression falters for the first time since he’s arrived. Something strange crosses your face; for whatever reason, his words leave you conflicted and Dazai suddenly feels even more nervous than he already was because now he can’t help but wonder what he might’ve said to you in his drunken state. 

He supposes that’ll have to be another question, but first, he’s going to have to figure out how to phrase it to get a yes or no answer first, without being vague enough for it to be a waste of a question or easy for you to misconstrue.

You hum after a few moments, taking a pointed sip of your wine. Dazai watches curiously—you’re bothered still, you’re not even trying to hide it. He knows you have better control over your facial expressions than this, so he thinks maybe it’s a ploy to get him to start spiraling down a path of useless questions. Put off by his sudden inability to discern your schemes, a part of him wonders if maybe you were right because the him of four years ago would’ve seen right through you right now.

“I’m afraid it had to be done,” you sigh with faux regret, but he can tell from the way the smile on your lips doesn’t reach your eyes that you’re not into the banter. “Were you able to fulfill Oda’s request?” 

Fuck. This time Dazai can’t withhold the grimace that spreads across his face. He tries to keep his voice light with a deflecting comment, “My, bella, you’re really hitting with the deep questions tonight, aren’t you?”

You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side as you wait for an answer, not giving him any room to formulate a response to your question. He finally sighs and shakes his head, taking a long sip of his whiskey. He wishes he had a pack of cigarettes on him, suddenly desperately longing for the pleasant burn of the smoke against his throat; he needs the buzz badly right now.

As if you could read his mind, you shift in your seat a bit and stuff your hand into the pocket of your slacks. It takes a few seconds but you fish out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, sliding them across the table over to him. If he wasn’t already so in his head over the question you asked, he’d make a quip over the fact that you still know him so well despite your insistence otherwise, but he only pulls out a cigarette and lights it, looking curiously down at the familiar brand.

“Since when did you start smoking these?” he asks quietly, eyes fluttering shut as he tilts his head back and takes a long drag of it. He exhales slowly and then adds, “Thought you liked the other ones, in the green box.”

“Teal,” you correct, and then frown a bit. “... Switched after you left.”

Dazai’s eyes flutter back open as his gaze focuses on you, wondering if the implication you left up in the air is something he can take at face value or if it’s just another way of trying to get him to lower his guard. But from the way you suddenly don’t meet his eyes, Dazai thinks you might be being honest: you switched because they reminded you of him.

Dazai’s chest suddenly feels heavy again.

“... No,” he finally responds to your second question. “Not yet, at least.”

“... Truth,” you say, and Dazai’s lips curl into a wry smile.

“Unfortunately.” The word slips out before he can stop it.

Your gaze flickers back up to him, curious, but Dazai doesn’t give you the chance to dwell on his comment, asking his next question: “Did I… admit anything to you that night that I wouldn’t have said while sober?”

His fingers tap rhythmically against his glass of whiskey, half-empty now; he’s anxious to hear your response.

“You did,” you confirm.

Dazai grimaces because that’s another truth, and that is not good. But just like how he doesn’t offer any context for his answers, you don’t either. He doesn’t know what he might’ve admitted or how you might’ve taken it—he’s going to have to waste another question on this topic.

“Truth,” he murmurs.

You hum and then ask, “Do you still blame yourself for what happened to him?”

“Come on,” Dazai complains sharply, tossing you a dirty look now. His jaw is tight. He wonders if you keep asking about Oda as some sort of sick revenge for him leaving, ripping open wounds that never properly healed so you can dig your fingers into them and twist around. You don’t look bothered by his outburst, waiting patiently for a response. He lets out an angry sigh, looking away and taking another long drink from his glass and another drag of his cigarette. 

He voices his first lie, “No.”

You let out a puff of air, rising to your feet and making your way over to the opposite counter, you grab the bottle of whiskey and bring it back over to him, topping off his now-empty glass before pointedly holding out your hand. He passes the cigarette over to you, tilting his head back to watch you bring it to your lips—a part of him longs to lean forward, to slide his hand behind your neck and cradle your head as he brings his lips to yours, inhaling the smoke as you exhale it, dizzy off the proximity to you, high off the buzz of the nicotine, just like the two of you would do when before he left.

He refrains, if only barely.

You exhale the smoke, a small cloud billowing around you—Dazai mourns the waste—and then you pass the cigarette back over to him. Your fingers brush his as you do, and a spark shoots through his arm at the touch.

“A lie,” you finally say, looking down at him with a frown. “You shouldn’t blame yourself. There was nothing you could’ve done to save him.”

“You don’t know that,” Dazai says tightly, averting his gaze from you as you make your way back over to your seat across from him. “If I’d been faster-”

“If Mori wants someone dead, then they’ll die,” you interrupt him, a grimace on your face as you look down at your wine glass. “Trust me, Dazai, there was no saving Oda Sakunosuke.”

Dazai pauses instead of snapping again, catching the expression on your face. Haunted, as if you’re speaking from experience. He tilts his head to the side and then asks quietly, “Are you talking about your ex-partner? Itou?”

If Dazai remembers correctly, he died on a mission when you were seventeen. You never told him the circumstances, and he never asked, but it was the first and only time you ever broke down in front of him.

The corner of your lips tightens, “Is that your next question?”

Dazai barely withholds a frustrated sigh. 

“No,” he says quietly, and then asks, “Did I tell you why I couldn’t say goodbye? The real reason?”

He holds his breath now as he waits for your response. One way or another, this question is a double blade: if he did tell you why, then he’s at another disadvantage because he’s going to feel distinctly bare and vulnerable; if he didn’t tell you, he just admitted that he lied back at your office, at least partially. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally say, “Yes.”

The truth. Dazai wonders when you’re going to utter your first lie, if you will, or if you’re trying to make some sort of point by being honest with him. He voices his answer and then waits impatiently for your next question as his mind races.

He desperately wants to know how you responded to him back then. Would you have come with him had he come to you before he left? Or would you have chosen the Port Mafia? He wonders if he should ask, make it one of his remaining seven questions, but he doesn’t know if he has the guts to hear your answer, so maybe he’ll just change the subject.

“Are you enjoying yourself at the Agency?”

For the life of him, Dazai cannot figure out your angle. First, the prying questions about Oda and now asking about the Agency. He doesn’t know what he expected at the start of the game—you’ve always been unpredictable, but even more so now. He’s never had such a hard time reading you or your intentions before.

He starts to feel even more doubtful, wondering if you were right.

Maybe he doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does anymore.

But this is an easy question, so he says the truth with little hesitation, “I am.”

Dazai swears the corners of your lips curl up into a soft smile, but it’s gone so quickly that he might’ve imagined it.

“Good,” you say quietly. “I’m glad.”

Dazai’s lips part, a warm feeling spreads through his chest at the honesty in your tone. Desperately, he wants to know what’s going on—where’s the rage and the betrayal he expected from you? The hate? Why do you seem… okay with all of this?

Irrationally, he starts to wonder if everything from the office was just a heat-of-the-moment conversation. If now that you’ve had time to sit on your thoughts, you’ve realized… realized what? That you’ve moved on from him? That you don’t care what he does anymore? That you’ve accepted that he’s no longer a part of your life? The warmth in his chest disappears, edged away by a sudden coldness and desperation because he thinks he’d rather die than go back to a life without you.

Even more irrationally, he remembers the comment you made back at the office, the admission that you’ve slept around since he left. Oh god, what if you really have moved on?

He knows his next question.

“The people you slept with—were they all one-night stands?”

He doesn’t want to know the answer unless it’s a yes.

You raise your eyebrows at the abrupt shift in his line of questioning, and then, to his absolute horror, you say, truthfully, “No.”

“What do you mean no?” he asks angrily—he thinks if he was a bird, he’d be puffing his chest out in irritation. He feels antsy suddenly, he needs to move around. He starts tapping his foot against the floor, his fingers against the glass. And again, he thinks you’re a despicable bitch because you only look amused at his question as if he’s not beside himself with righteous fury.

“It’s not your turn,” is all you respond with, and Dazai has a distinct urge to throttle you. Then you ask, “Do you feel like you belong there?”

He halts.

His fingers freeze from where they’re tapping against the glass, his foot freezes mid-motion. His lips part as he’s confronted with the very question that he’s been struggling with for two years now. He wants to yes, if only to maybe be a little spiteful, to rub in your face that he’s somewhere good and he’s somewhere where he belongs, and it’s not somewhere with you. A cruel dig to get back for the aching in his chest at the thought of you being with other people, but he knows that you’ll catch the lie, and more importantly, he doesn’t want to hurt you like that.

Maybe he has grown a bit because the Dazai of four years ago nearly killed your civilian boyfriend when he found out that you were dating someone besides him and then promptly made a show of sleeping around to try to get back at you.

So, instead, he says quite honestly, “I don’t know.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Not a yes or no answer, but I suppose it works. How curious.”

He hates your cryptic comments. Pointedly, he side-eyes you as he takes another long drag of his cigarette. Already, it’s nearly down to the nub, so he puts it out on your table, ignoring the distasteful look you give him, and then reaches for another to light as he asks: “Were you in a relationship with any of them?” 

You roll your eyes at his prying, and he cannot hide the abject horror that crosses his face when you say, “Yes.”

“That better be a lie,” he complains, and when you look at him as if to ask if that’s really his guess, he makes a show of pushing out his bottom lip and looking away as he says: “I cannot believe you dated other people. Cheater.”

“We were never even dating, Daz-”

“Yes, we were,” Dazai protests instantly, entirely aghast at your words. “We absolutely were. What does that even mean? Of course, we were dating. Everybody knew it. Ask anybody. Ane-san knew. Gin-chan knew. Chuuya knew. Even Mori knew. We were so dating, you-”

“You never officially asked me to be your girlfriend, which is, unfortunately, the most fundamental step of dating,” you interrupt him, and Dazai stares at you in disbelief.

“I bought you flowers, we fucked exclusively,” Dazai complains, aggrieved. “We were definitely dating, and you definitely cheated on me because we never broke up.”

“If we were dating,” you emphasize the if very pointedly, and Dazai is distinctly put out by it, “then we broke up the day you left without saying goodbye.”

Dazai withers. He has no witty comment to return fire with, so instead, he just takes another sip of his whiskey, grateful for the combined buzz of the alcohol and the nicotine to distract him from the overwhelming guilt he feels whenever you bring up how he left you.

“Do you feel like you belong more with the Agency than you did with the Port Mafia?” 

Your next question is an amendment to your previous on, and it leaves Dazai just as lost.

He wants to belong with the Agency. He does. Desperately. He wants more than anything to feel as at home and comfortable in the light as he does in the dark. He doesn’t want to question his place among them anymore, he doesn’t want to wonder if he sticks out like a sore thumb. He wants to enter the office and feel like he doesn’t have to pretend to be someone he’s not, just so he can keep his place with them. He doesn’t want to have to fear at every corner that he’s going to revert to old habits, and they’ll see him for the monster that he is: a monster that should have never left the dark crevices that he crawled out from, a monster with blood so black that it strikes fear in even the most terrible mafiosos.

“No,” he admits the insecurity that’s plagued him to the one person he feels comfortable enough with to voice it aloud. He can’t bring himself to look up at you, wondering if the admission will give you some sort of sick satisfaction, if you’ll be happy that he’s not finding a place he can be comfortable in without you. Instead, he decides to rush to ask his next question: “The one you were in a relationship with, did you love him?”

He thinks that the question came across as far more timid than he meant it to be, and his eyes slide shut as he waits for your answer.

“There were multiple I had relationships with—” Dazai scoffs, of course, there were multiple. “—...but no, I did not.”

He lets out a soft puff of air, shoulders slumping a bit in relief. But his fingers are still tense around his glass, waiting for whatever question you’re going to ask next that’s going to dig deep into open wounds, stripping him of all of his masks and armor to force him to lay himself entirely bare in front of you.

“Did you really blow up Chuuya’s car before you left?”

His eyes fly open at the sudden change of pace in your questions, noting the smirk curling at the corner of your lips and the amusement glinting in your eyes. He accepts the olive branch quickly as he gives you a sharp smile and asks: “What do you think?” 

Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle a laugh, and the smile on Dazai’s lips becomes a bit softer as he watches you desperately try to get yourself under control. “You’re insane, you know that?” you finally say, still trying to bite back giggles. “He was so mad. Raged about it for weeks.”

Another question pops into Dazai’s head at the mention of Chuuya, and before he can consider whether or not he actually wants to know the answer to it, he asks: “Speaking of Chuuya, was he one of your trysts while I was gone?”

Suddenly, you are not laughing, and suddenly, Dazai regrets speaking.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Do not tell me-”

“He was,” you confirm.

Dazai’s glass of whiskey is empty. 

He grabs the bottle and drinks right from it, miserable.

“I think I would’ve rather been stabbed through the heart,” Dazai says mournfully, and though he keeps a faux-light tone with you, his throat feels like it’s swollen, and he feels a bit sick to his stomach.

He’s always been jealous of the bond you have with Chuuya. Absurdly jealous, even. You clicked with him quickly—you clicked with both of them quickly, and maybe it was a matter of the three of you being the youngest of the Port Mafia’s uppermost echelon, but Dazai doesn’t want to attribute it solely to that—but the way you clicked with Chuuya was different from how you clicked with Dazai. Two people so completely human locked away in the dark, clinging to one another to maintain some sense of normalcy; your and his casual humanity made Dazai’s lack of it irrefutable and glaring.

Regardless of the why, he never liked how close you were with Chuuya. 

Even before you were dating him—because you were dating him—a part of him had always felt sidelined whenever the three of you hung out together. Not because of either of your wrongdoings but just because it was hard for him to keep up with the two of you. He always felt a bit lost trying to, unable to follow along when the two of you would start laughing at jokes that he didn’t understand even when you explained them to him, when you would share glances with one another that spoke whole conversations he wasn’t privy to. The two of you got along in ways that Dazai would never be able to get along with anyone because there’s just something fundamentally wrong with him at his core. Chuuya, for all of his talk and fear regarding the question of his humanity, has always been so unfailingly human in ways that Dazai, to this day, cannot fathom to understand.

After you started dating him—because you were dating him—it only got worse because he’d see you with Chuuya and wonder if you were better off with someone like him instead. Dazai doesn’t know how to treat you right, clearly. He can’t even treat himself right; and Chuuya has always been the epitome of a gentleman, loathe Dazai is to admit it—Ane-san drilled that into the other boy where Mori only taught Dazai how to be cruel and unforgiving. The line between love and obsession has always been a terribly blurry one for him, and you have always wavered on either side of it—and Dazai, unfortunately, does not love healthily and obsesses so entirely that it would have most people running for the hills. 

For better or for worse, you’re not most people.

In his spiral of insecurity, he doesn’t catch the way your brows furrow as you put together some puzzle pieces. “Dazai,” you say suddenly, drawing him from his thoughts abruptly. There’s an accusatory look in your eyes that he really does not like. “Were you the one that booby-trapped my fucking apartment?”

Dazai snorts.

“You bastard,” you snap at him, and Dazai can’t help but bite the palm of his hand as a means of trying to stifle his laughter. “Mori thought it was a goddamn assassination attempt. He kept me under watch for weeks because of you. I couldn’t leave the towers without half of the Black Lizards with me.”

“Sorry,” he coos, not sorry at all. Dazai, because he clearly doesn’t know when to learn his lesson, then he promptly asks, “Am I better fuck than Chuuya?”

“Jesus Christ, Dazai, get off the topic of Chuuya and my sex life, it’s clearly only upsetting you,” you snap at him instead of answering the question. Dazai wants to argue and retain some dignity; he’s not upset, but then his entire world is shattered by your next words: “I am not answering this question.”

Dazai blanches. He can feel the blood drain from his face. He’d thought this was an easy question to make him feel a bit better. What do you mean you won’t answer? Does that mean Chuuya-

No. Dazai refuses to believe it.

 “No way,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s not a better fuck than me. You can’t possibly-”

“He’s not,” you finally say, and Dazai audibly lets out a sigh of relief. “But if you ever mention anything along the likes of that to him, you will never fuck me again, Dazai Osamu. Do you understand?”

Dazai is too relieved to even argue. “Yeah.”

“No more questions about my sex life,” you say firmly, and Dazai doesn’t respond, but he does agree internally because he doesn’t think his heart can handle any more scares like that. Your eyes sharpen again, and Dazai braces himself. “Were you the one to tell Mori I lied about being sick so I could skip out on the ball Mishima hosted when we were seventeen?”

Dazai’s eyes narrow right back at you and rather than answering, he shoots one of his own questions at you: “Were you the one to tell Mori I had his contact in my phone as ‘ignore’?”

You take his lack of an answer as an affirmative, correctly so. Dazai has no regrets about ratting you out to Mori because he was not about to attend Mishima’s event without you on his arm. He’d rather die. 

“You bastard, do you know the lengths I went to fake being sick? I wanted one night to relax without people breathing down my neck.”

“If I had to go, you had to go,” Dazai retorts petulantly. “I was not about to suffer with only Chuuya as company. You had no reason to tell Mori about the contact name besides to be petty. I fought with Chuuya for weeks because I thought he was the one to do it.”

You choke on a laugh. “Chuuya was so mad, he had no idea what you were talking about.”

“He tied me to a pole and swung me around for three hours,” Dazai complains, but there’s a smile on his lips as you burst into laughter, unable to stifle the giggles that spill from your lips.

“I know,” you wheeze, “I got it on video. We watch it sometimes when we’re bored and can’t find a movie.”

Dazai gapes, and you laugh harder, but for the first time in four years, Dazai finally feels… at home, he feels comfortable in his own skin again. He’s back in your penthouse, he’s drinking his favorite whiskey and smoking his favorite brand of cigarettes, you’re sitting at the kitchen table with him and laughing your head off at his expense, and for a moment, Dazai feels as if nothing has changed: he feels like himself again, eighteen and entirely enamored by the sight and sound of you, and you feel like you again, all of the doubt that had begun to rise to his chest as the two of you played the questions game long gone.

He falls in love with you all over again. Harder this time. Faster. He thinks he’ll fall in love with you again and again every day for the rest of your lives, each time more than the last, no matter how impossible it might seem.

He thinks maybe it’s not that he feels like he belongs with the Port Mafia more than the Agency. He thinks that it’s you. You’re the one he feels at home with. You’re the one he’s comfortable enough to be himself with. You’re the one he belongs with, always has, and always will.

After a few moments, you finally manage to get yourself under control, still giggling a bit as you look back up at him. Your smile is softer now, eyes gentle, more genuine than the smile you gave him before asking the first question. Dazai’s breath catches because when was the last time you looked at him like this—the last time anyone has looked at him like this? A warm feeling spreads through his chest; Dazai thinks he would stay in this moment forever if given the opportunity.

“Are you happy?” you ask quietly

Dazai blinks, startled, and an odd feeling spreads through his chest once your question registers. His lips part to answer, but no words leave them; he draws back as if he’s been slapped, a bit flustered and confused because that’s the furthest thing from what he expected you to ask. He wonders if you’d asked the last three questions to lull him into a false sense of security.

“I-” he starts to say but cuts himself off. “What kind of question is that?” 

He tries to deflect instead of properly answering, frowning, but you only raise your eyebrows, pointedly keeping your lips sealed to let him know that you expect an answer. He shakes his head and then sighs, bouncing the question in his head a few times before going for a cop-out: “When I’m with you? Always.”

You’re not pleased by his decision, frowning as you look away from him—he knows that’s not what you asked, not really, but you should have been clearer with your question if you wanted him to give you the answer you expected. But he doesn’t like the sudden disappointment on your face, it leaves his skin itchy and his chest longing for the soft look to return.

So he sits there, ruminating on the question. Is he happy? He should be, right? He’s saving people. He’s on the way to fulfilling Odasaku’s final request. He has a whole group of people whom he can rely on without having to fear being taken advantage of or betrayed at every corner. He’s happy.

But is he trying to convince himself of it? Why is he still trying to kill himself if he’s happy? Why is there a part of him that feels lonely no matter how surrounded he is by people? Why is it that when he’s at his lowest points, the only two people he wishes he could be with are you and Chuuya? Why does he ache for the days he’d spend dragging the two of you around Yokohama, causing trouble for Mori—the closest he’s ever felt to enjoying life?

“I don’t know,” he finally amends his answer, looking down at the bottle in front of him and the cinders of the cigarette dangling between his fingers. He lifts it to his lips again, taking one last drag of it as he tries to figure out what his last question should be.

There’s only one pressing question he has left, but he hesitates, unsure if he really wants to know your answer.

He forces it out anyway.

“Would you… would you have come with me back then?” His voice is quieter than he intended, cracks over ‘me’, and to your credit, you don’t react to the question, expression as eerily still as it was before, as if you’re considering your words.

A yes or no. It shouldn’t take this long for you to answer. Each second that passes feels like an eternity, and Dazai suddenly feels anxious, he doesn’t know why he asked this question because if the answer is no—if it’s no, then…

Finally, you let you a soft sigh, taking a sip of your wine as if to prolong his agony.

Your lashes flutter before you speak.

You lie for the first time that night.

“Yes.”

Dazai’s voice sounds far away as he says, “That’s a lie.”

“I guess you were right,” you say softly, but you sound so distant, like you’re on the opposite side of a long, empty tunnel and not sitting right in front of him. “We do still know each other decently well; you got them all right.”

Dazai doesn’t care. In fact, he would have gladly conceded a loss in this game, and he would’ve gladly admitted that maybe the two of you don’t know each other as well as you used to if it meant that he got the last question wrong because then he would’ve just given you a coy expression and asked if you’d let him get to know this new version of you too. You would’ve said yes, and he would’ve made quite the pleasurable night out of it for the two of you. Instead, he had to insist that nothing has changed, and now he has to come to terms with the fact that he was right and he had known you well enough back then to know not to ask you to leave with him because you would have chosen the Mafia over him. 

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice you approaching him until you’re leaning on the table next to him, index and middle finger coming beneath his chin to tilt his face up toward you. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes searching your face, but he only finds another blank slate that he can’t read. His breath hitches when your hand slides from his chin to cup his cheek, and he can’t help the way that he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“I would choose you over so many things, Osamu.” You speak his given name for the first time in years, but he can hardly find any comfort in it because he knows he’s not going to like what you’re about to say. Your fingers card through the tips of his hair, brushing the dark locks behind his ear as your thumb sweeps over his cheekbone. “But not over the Port Mafia. Just like how you didn’t choose to stay for me.”

“It’s not the same,” he says, voice hoarse. “It’s-”

“It is,” you interrupt, voice deceptively gentle, and he thinks you’re entirely unfair because he can hardly focus with your touch distracting him. He’s missed it so much—he’s gone four years without it, without any type of touch that wasn’t him getting his shit kicked in by Kunikida or an enemy. “You didn’t choose to stay for me. I wouldn’t have chosen to leave for you.”

“Why?” Dazai asks tightly, and he hates that when his jaw tenses, you smooth your fingers over it, and he unclenches it immediately.

There’s a sadder look in your eye now as you give him a small smile. “You know why.”

Of course, he knows why. He feels the hatred deep in his gut as his mind draws back to Mori. Because that’s who the issue is. It’s not the Port Mafia. It’s not your friendship with Kouyou. It’s not even your friendship with Chuuya that’s the issue. It’s Mori and your undying loyalty to him. No matter how much you claim to despise him, bashing him every chance you get, sneering at him whenever he tries to treat you like his daughter, Dazai knows that when it comes down to it, you’ll always choose him. You’d throw yourself on a sword if he asked it of you, and not for the first time, Dazai wants to spit in the man’s face for making you feel as if you’re eternally indebted to him for rescuing you from that warzone so many years ago; for making you feel as if you’re nothing without the Mafia, nothing without him.

“You don’t owe him anything,” Dazai says tightly. “You have to know that by now—you don’t owe him anything.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation, Dazai,” you sigh, sounding tired. Your hand drops from his face, and Dazai longs for your touch again instantly. His fingers twitch from where they’re resting on his lap; he only barely stops himself from reaching out for you. You try to smile as you change the subject, but it hardly meets your eyes, “It’s a tie then. No prize for either of us, hm?”

Dazai is not so inclined to switch the subject. He wants to press on this now that he has the chance; he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to rip you out from beneath Mori’s thumb, but he needs to at least try… but you’re leaving again in the morning, and Dazai also does not want to ruin this night with you. He doesn’t know when he’ll get another.

So, instead, he matches your half-assed smile as he looks up at you and says, “I didn’t say you got them all right. You only said that I got them all right.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did I get any wrong?” you ask, amused.

No.

“Yes.”

“Liar,” you say, but there’s a fond lilt to your tone as you let out another puff of air, the smile on your face finally reaching your eyes as you look down at him. The soft lighting of your kitchen casts a pretty glow over your face, your smile is so entrancing that Dazai thinks he could stare at it forever.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out, the words slipping from his lips before he can stop them. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He’s sure he must look like a fool right now, entirely enamored by the sight of you, unable to even fathom drawing his gaze away. He wonders if you’ll protest again, call him a liar, and shift away from him.

You don’t.

The smile on your lips falls, and a wrecked expression crosses your face as your eyes search his. Your lips part to speak, and he waits with bated breath for whatever you’re about to say—he thinks that if you deny him again right now, it might completely shatter all of the walls he’d so carefully built to protect himself.

“I’ve missed you too,” you whisper as if you’re scared to speak the words out loud—and how can he blame you when the last time you dared to speak them, he hung up on you, never hearing from him again until tonight.

God, the guilt he feels whenever he thinks of you returns with a vengeance, so intense that Dazai starts to feel sick to his stomach. He can’t handle it, so he does the only thing he knows how to do to distract himself from it.

His movements are clumsy as he pushes himself up to his feet, nearly tripping over the leg of his chair, and his fingers feel clunky as he lifts them up to cup your cheeks. For a second, he fears that you might move away from him, but you don’t, so he leans in to press his lips against yours.

There’s no tenderness to his kiss. Dazai kisses you like he wants to consume you, lips sliding messily against yours, blunt nails indent crescents into your cheeks as he holds you close. Usually, he would be embarrassed by his blatant desperation and lack of finesse—he’s never been a sloppy kisser, when the two of you were younger, you would always let out pleased hums into his mouth, lashes fluttering as he worked his lips carefully against yours, tongue sliding against your own as he traces his name on it. 

All of his finely honed skill is thrown out the window now as he kisses you like a man who has been starved for years. He has been starved for years—the quick fuck in your office did nothing to quell the longing he’s felt for you the past four years. He could kiss you for hours. Days, even, and it still won’t be enough. Nothing short of an eternity with you would be enough to make up for the four years he’s been deprived of you.

He lets out a low groan into your mouth as you nip at his bottom lip, hands sliding from your face down to your hips. He’d take you here. Right now. But he remembers the last time he tried to fuck you on your kitchen table, it ended with him choking on the barrel of your gun as you yelled at him for being gross (“I eat on this table, you heathen!”) and he’s not particularly in the mood to set off your temper now that he finally has you in his arms again, so it’s with much restraint that he grabs you by the hips to walk you back into your bedroom.

He can hardly concentrate as your fingers twist the hair at the nape of his neck, soft moans slipping from his lips, muffled against your mouth. It’s only sheer instinct and muscle memory that has him making his way from the kitchen and down the hall. He can’t bring himself to separate his lips from yours for even a second. And he’s a mess because he’s not coherent enough to force himself to breathe properly through his nose, so his lungs are burning and his head feels a bit light, but he doesn’t care so long as it means he can keep kissing you.

Turn left, turn right, second door from the end of the hall. 

His fingers fumble for the knob of your bedroom door, pushing it open a bit too hard, considering the way he hears it slam against the wall and how you tug his hair hard in retaliation. He doesn’t care, moans a bit louder even when your nails scrape his stinging scalp, and you let out a derisive noise against his lips before biting down hard enough to draw blood.

The taste of iron makes a slow smile curl at his lips, walking you back toward the bed, and it’s only when your knees hit the edge that you finally pull away from him. “If you broke my door, you’re fixing it, Osamu.”

Dazai’s smile is lecherous. “I’m gonna break something alright,” he croons, relishing in the way you immediately roll your eyes at him. It’s all so familiar—he can almost pretend that he never left, that nothing has changed since the two of you were eighteen, dumb, reckless, and in love.

Before he can press you back against the bed, he feels your fingers drop from around his neck to his waistband, curling around his belt loops. In an instant, you’ve twisted the both of you around, and suddenly, it’s the back of Dazai’s knees pressed against the edge of the bed as you push him down onto the mattress. He hits the sheets with an ‘oof’ and a hazy smile, surrounded by the scent of you, drowning in the sight of you. He thinks he might be in heaven. 

You shift on top of him, straddling his waist; Dazai’s hands instantly come to rest on your thighs, sliding up the sides to grab your ass and pull you more firmly onto him. He groans when he feels you grind down against his cock, and god, he’s already hard just from kissing you. He hears you snort above him, but Dazai doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.

His lips part in a silent moan as you lean down to ghost kisses along his jaw, hands sliding up his chest. He feels you wrap your fingers around his bolo tie and tug it, you let out a sharp noise of distaste against his skin before murmuring: “I hate this ugly thing.”

He lets out a huff of laughter that quickly breaks off into a moan when your lips trail to the spot behind his ear that always makes him writhe. His fingers bite into your hips, pushing you down on him as he rocks his hips up into you—shit, he might be able to cum just from this. His cock is straining painfully against his beige pants, twitching as he grinds up against your clothed cunt. He thinks maybe if he fucks his hips upward a few more times, he might be able to push himself over the edge, but as desperate as he is to chase his release, he refuses to cum anywhere but inside of you.

Plus, he thinks he’ll be shamed to hell and back if he finishes in his pants with you hardly touching him. 

“Then strip me out of it,” he gasps, lashes fluttering as your teeth graze his pulse point right above the edge of his bandages. Fuck, he’d give anything for you to bite down—riddle him with marks he can’t cover so he can flaunt them off to everyone who looks at him. Dazai knows that there are countless men and women out there who’d die to be able to be called yours, he wants them to know he’s the only one who can take that honor. “What’re you waiting for?” 

You hum and then sit back on his hips—he bites his bottom lip raw as you unintentionally put even more pressure on his cock. He’s half dazed out, not realizing that your grip tightened on his bolo tie until you straight up yank it off of him, snapping the string around his neck.

“No!” he complains, watching with wide eyes and parted lips as you fling the now-broken bolo tie off to the side of your room. “Noooo, why’d you do that? I’m going to have to order a new one.”

“Boo-hoo,” you say dryly, hardly paying attention to him as your fingers curl around the hem of his vest, pulling it up over his head, snorting when he lets out a puff of irritation as his nose gets caught around the collar. 

“This is so unsexy,” he protests, rubbing his nose. “Shouldn’t you be more gentle?” 

“Stop wearing so many layers of clothes,” you retort, but Dazai is placated when you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips, lashes fluttering as his eyes slide shut. He lets out a pleased hum as you kiss down his jaw, nimble fingers unbuttoning his final layer of clothing. He wishes he wore an undershirt just to watch you huff in annoyance. His breath catches as you nip at his skin and then murmur, “This better?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, voice wavering as you get down to the last button of his shirt, sliding it off of his shoulders and easing him out of it. His body shudders as your hands slide over the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Fuck, it’s been so long since anyone’s touched him beneath his clothes, even with the bandages still acting as a layer between the two of you, his nerves are on end, sensitive to everywhere your fingers touch.

He wonders if you’ll pull off the bandages—it’s a line that the two of you only crossed once back then, and although the idea of it has him brimming with anxiety, he longs for the feeling of your skin flush to his.

He almost feels a bit embarrassed when you sit back again to admire him as if there’s not a scar-ridden body hidden beneath the bandages. You look at him like he’s beautiful, like he’s not a monster disguised as a man, like he’s human. Dazai has always felt distinctly seen beneath your stare like you can see through all of the masks he wears and see him for him, and that has not changed over the past four years.

He’s missed the comfort of it. He has. It used to unnerve him back then, thinking someone could see him so clearly when he tried so hard and so carefully to hide himself beneath layers of impenetrable masks, but after going four years alone, with no one for him to turn to, no one he could look at and have them just know what he’s thinking… 

Yosano once mentioned offhandedly that to be loved is to be seen, and Dazai thinks the only time he’s ever been seen—truly seen, down to his core, deep in his soul—is when he’s with you.

It was a very lonely four years without you.

“I thought about you every day,” Dazai tells you softly, the grip on your hips easing up as he looks up at you. “Made a list of places I wanted to bring you and then burned it because I never thought I’d get the chance to be with you again. Stared at old pictures of you all the time, couldn’t sleep without thinking about memories with you. Drank your favorite wine just so I could pretend I was tasting it off your lips.”

You bring your hand up to cup his cheek, and Dazai leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut again. He kisses your palm, humming softly when your thumb runs along his bottom lip.

“There wasn’t a single day I went without you crossing my mind,” you admit quietly and Dazai’s breath hitches as he stares up at you, dark eyes wide and lips parted. He thinks he should say something, anything really, but it’s a lost cause. You don’t seem to mind, luckily, because you only lean down to brush your lips against his again.

This kiss is softer than the last, lips trembling against yours as your tongue dances along his inner lip. He thinks his cheeks might feel wet but he doesn’t dare acknowledge it; you don’t either, only using your thumbs to brush away the tears as they spill over his cheeks.

“Are you really leaving again in the morning?” he finally asks, and he hates that his voice cracks over the words.

You hum in agreement, still hovering over him, still running your thumbs along his cheekbone. His lashes droop shut, but he forces them back open as you speak. “I am. Bright and early. Flight leaves at six.”

His gaze flickers to the left, over to where your alarm clock is set up on your nightstand. 

12:35

He looks back at you, eyes swimming with desperation.

You give him a soft, wry smile. “We should make the most of the night then, hm?”

He doesn’t waste any time on that.

His grip on your hip tightens, and in one swift motion, he flips the two of you around, elbows resting on the mattress on either side of your head as he hovers above you. Your eyes glitter as you give him a coy smile, and again, Dazai falls in love.

Then, he ruins the moment.

“Tell me how you fucked Chuuya.”

Your smile drops. “Osamu, what the fuck?”

“Tell me,” he pouts, nudging his nose against your cheek and peppering soft kisses on your cheek and down your neck. His knees drop to the bed on either side of your hips, holding up his weight as he reaches down to unbutton your slacks, sliding them off your body. A smile flickers onto his lips as his fingers graze your panties—drenched, finally, evidence that he’s not the only one so affected by this. “Tell me. Were you on top? Did he take you from behind? Was he rough? No, it’s Chuuya-”

“If you care so much about how Chuuya fucks, Osamu, how about you go fuck him yourself?” you interrupt him.

Dazai gags.

“Don’t ever say that again,” he says and then returns to his mission, fumbling with his own pants now as he tries to yank them and his briefs off, unable to hold back the relieved sigh when he finally frees his cock, unceremoniously tossing them to the floor. “Tell me.” 

“Why do you care so much, hm?” you ask, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I told you that you were better.”

You’re only trying to deflect from the question and he almost lets you succeed, partially placated, but he stays strong, leveling an unrelenting stare onto you as he waits for your answer. You sigh heavily, and he knows he’s won.

“Not rough,” you say as if Dazai hasn’t already come to that conclusion. Chuuya’s had a crush on you since the three of you were sixteen. Dazai assumed he had grown out of it, but evidently, he was wrong, considering he took the opportunity to sleep with Dazai’s girlfriend—because you were his girlfriend—the moment Dazai was out of the picture. What a little snake. Dazai needs to vandalize his apartment again. Maybe set up a few more bombs. He’s only drawn back from his mental spiral when you start talking again: “He took the lead. Wanted to see my face the whole time, make sure I was okay.”

“How gentlemanly of him,” Dazai says—he’s not bitter. He’s not.

“It was,” you agree, too genuinely.

Dazai squints at you hard. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say. “You asked.”

“You don’t need to sound so wistful.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Osamu, I’m not wistful.”

“How-”

“Are we going to talk about Nakahara Chuuya all night, or are you going to fuck me?” you interrupt immediately, looking increasingly incensed. Dazai only raises his chin at you pointedly—you’re the one that slept with Chuuya. “Time is dwindling, Osamu.”

Okay. 

Dazai’s gaze flickers back to the clock and then back down to you, withering a bit under your irritated stare. He sighs and leans back over you to kiss the corner of your lips, fingers curling around the hem of your panties to slide them off your legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his kisses linger against your skin now as he drags his lips down to your jaw. “The thought of him being with you…”

It makes Dazai want to do terrible things. The part of him that he locked up deep within rattles at the bars of its cage, furious and bloodthirsty. The trigger finger he’s been so careful to tame twitches with a desire he hasn’t felt in four years. The thought of anyone being with you makes Dazai sick to his stomach—Dazai is the only one who should get to see you like this, be with you like this—but the thought of Chuuya being with you is so much worse.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Osamu,” you tell him quietly, fingers intertwining with his hair as he nips at your neck. “No matter how much I slept around, nothing was ever able to fill the hole losing you left. Not even Chuuya.”

Dazai exhales, shaky—the guilt returns, and so does the doubt because what right does he have sitting here being petty about what you did while he was gone when he was the one who left you behind without so much as a word? His eyes flutter shut, he spares a few more chaste kisses across your throat before lifting his face back to yours, kissing you gently.

“Let me make up for lost time then,” he says softly.

He doesn’t hesitate now, one hand dropping down to your thigh, lifting it to wrap around his waist as he presses his hips into you. His breath shudders when his cock slips against your folds, a low moan spilling from his lips. He has to reach down to angle himself properly, tip pressing against your tight hole.

The fingers of his free hands are shaky as he lifts them to cup your cheek. “Look at me,” he says, heat spreading through his abdomen when he realizes you already can hardly hold your eyes open, quick breaths escaping your lips as you try to keep yourself from cumming already. “Look at me, I want to see you.”

Your eyes flutter open, lidded and heavy as you look up at him, and Dazai thinks that maybe he could cum just from the expression on your face alone, inhaling sharply as his thumb drags across your bottom lip. He thinks maybe he should try to get ahold of himself, fearing that if he pushes inside of you now, he might cum on the spot, but his cock is aching so badly that Dazai thinks he might die if he doesn’t feel your heat around him immediately.

It takes all of his strength to keep his eyes from sliding shut as he pushes inside of you, desperate to see the way your face twists and your breath catches. Your lips tremble, chest rising and falling rapidly, he can feel your thighs tightening around his waist, and Dazai groans when your heels dig into his lower back, forcing his hips flush to you, burying his cock deep in your cunt. He chokes, grip on your thigh bruising; his abdomen tightens, and his head feels light.

No way, he thinks, gritting his teeth as he tries to hold back the waves of pleasure threatening to tear through him. He hears you let out a huff of laughter beneath him, and Dazai would shut you up with a sharp thrust of your hips, but he’s still desperately trying to regain control over himself, so he thinks that’s maybe not the best idea.

His forehead drops to rest on the pillow next to your head, lips brushing your ear as he lets out a low moan. He can’t even savor the way you let out a full-body shudder, fingers coming up to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. Fuck, you’re so tight—Dazai can feel your walls tightening around him, spasming, his breath is shaky, and he tries to distract himself by pressing his lips to your skin, mouthing messily at your skin, sucking and nipping and counting to ten as he tries to settle down.

But it’s hard with the soft sighs you’re letting out, the way your fingers catch on his tousled hair, tugging enough to make his scalp sting. His head is so fogged that he can hardly think straight—god, he’s missed this, he hasn’t had the comfort of letting himself go like this in… since he left, really. His mind is always turning, plotting out ten, twenty, thirty steps in advance in fear of making a mistake, slipping up and letting the rest of the Agency see him for what he is, slipping up and their lives being the price just like with Odasaku. It’s only with you that’s ever comfortable enough to finally let the cogs in his brain slow and shatter, lose himself in carnal pleasures, lose himself in you; it’s been four years since he’s last had a reprieve from his own brain.

But he only lets himself slip halfway—tonight isn’t going to be about him, it’s about you. He has four years to make up for and he intends on getting a good start on it tonight.

He pants quietly as he lifts his head enough to bite your earlobe, tugging it gently before pressing his lips to your temple. “I’ve missed this,” he admits, voice raspy and clogged thick with emotion. “I’ve-”

He can hardly get the words out, and his breath catches when your hands slide from behind his head to cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. He thinks he must look wrecked—he can already feel the sweat beading on his forehead, and he knows his eyes are probably glazed over. You still look stunning, a soft expression on your face as you look up at him as if he’s not buried to the hilt inside of you. 

Unfair, he thinks mournfully. 

“What're you still holding onto, hm?” you ask, and Dazai only barely registers your words, sinking into your touch as you brush matted hair out of his eyes. He can finally bring himself to roll his hips—experimental, slow, trying to make sure he can actually move before trying to fuck you. Then you sigh softly, and he’s too out of it to try to make out the expression on your face as you say: “You work yourself so hard… always have. I’ve got you, you can let go, Dazai. C’mon.”

“No,” he hums, but his voice is strained, evidence of his struggle. “Tonight’s about my favorite girl.”

“Favorite?” you tease, lifting your shoulders off the bed to ghost a kiss against his lips that nearly has his hips stuttering—the conversation so reminiscent of one that the two of you had at seventeen it almost makes him smile.

“Only,” he amends quietly, kissing your nose, then the corner of your lips, and then nipping your jawline.

Just when he thinks he’s good to actually start picking up the pace, intent on fucking the thoughts out of you until you forget about your stupid flight in the morning, he catches a suspicious expression on your face, one that has his eyes narrowing.

“What?” he asks dubiously; your eyes are glittering in a way that he knows from experience is dangerous. 

You don’t say anything, just look pointedly at your thighs, then up to his shoulders. Dazai tilts his head to the side, recognizing what you want, and after a moment’s hesitation, he slides your legs up above his shoulders, folding them to your chest, eyes nearly rolling back at the new angle. Fuck, his hips do stutter this time, breath hitching. He has to readjust again, mentally focus on not cumming on the spot, and then-

And then you say: “He had my legs like this.”

A trick. 

Dazai knows it. 

You’re trying to make him let go of the thin thread of self-control he still has. To give in. To let all of the gears in his brain finally fall apart for the first time in four years.

He knows it.

He falls for it anyway.

Dazai’s jaw tightens, gaze snapping down to you only to catch a goading look in your eyes, a sly smile on your lips that Dazai has every intention of fucking right off your face. He inhales sharply, one hand sliding up your body to grab your chin, blunt nails digging a bit too deeply into your cheeks.

“Yeah?” he says, voice rough. 

Your lashes flutter and lips part as Dazai pointedly jerks his hips up. Your breath catches over a moan, and Dazai knows that this new angle is affecting you just as much as it is him.

“Mhm,” you agree, and just like that, the thin thread snaps.

He snaps his hips into you so hard that your bedframe bangs loudly against the wall behind it, quickly setting a steady pace, nice and deep, quick enough that you can’t even get a breath of air to your lungs before Dazai is fucking it right out of you. Already, he’s so fucked out that his mind is in shambles, one hand settling on your hip to hold you in place as he thrusts his hips into you, hitting that sweet spot with each stroke while his other hand, still cupping your face, slides down to your neck.

He doesn’t squeeze—wouldn’t dare to cut off the pretty noises spilling from your lips, moans of his names, choked gasps and cries between each rock of his hips—but the fact that you trust him, him, enough to have his fingers wrapped around your throat is always a quick way make him topple over the edge.

His eyes dart down to your chest, realizing, very unfortunately, that you haven’t taken off your button-up yet. He nearly bites down on his tongue in frustration as his hand comes down to your chest, careful to keep the pace of his hips as he hooks his fingers around the first button just to yank down, popping off half of the buttons of your expensive dress shirt and haphazardly pulling it off of you to toss it to the side before fumbling with the clip of your bra.

“Osamu,” you hiss, and Dazai revels in the way your voice wavers with each thrust, biting back moans. “That’s the second-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence. Dazai tosses your bra over with your discarded shirt and dips his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before rolling it between his teeth, and you’re gone—Dazai lets out a muffled groan around you as your back arches up into him, crying out his name, walls tightening around him as you cum on his cock.

“Oh-f-hah-fuck,” Dazai gasps as he rests his head on your collarbone, grip on your waist tightening. 

He has to physically force himself to lift his head, bracing his forearm on the mattress next to your head, desperate to see the way your eyes roll back, he can already feel himself teetering over the edge—the lewd sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppiness of his cock driving in and out of your cunt, he can feel your cum dripping down his cock, smeared on his pelvis.

His hand slides behind your head, lifting it from where you have it pressed against the mattress. Beautiful—the only thought that can run through his hazy brain is of you and how perfect you are, lips swollen and bitten raw, parted as pitched moans escape them, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes as he fucks you through your orgasm and right into a second. He’s the only one that should ever get to see you like this, with your clever brain fucked right and dumb, body writhing against the bed as you cling to him.

He leans down again, trailing sloppy kisses against your neck, gasping as he starts to feel his high approaching.

“No one makes you feel like this,” he says, or maybe he begs, he’s not sure if he’s making a statement or pleading for you to tell him it’s the truth. “Tell me. T-shit-tell me.”

“No one,” you sob over another moan, and Dazai can feel your pussy fluttering around him—he wonders if he’s already fucked you into a third. Usually, it takes longer. “No one, Osamu, you’re the only one.”

And that’s the only thing he needed to hear to give him that final push. His steady pace shifts into a more erratic one, sloppy and desperate, as he chases a high that’s just out of reach. His moans are muffled against your skin, teeth scraping your collarbone, mind a jumbled mess of thoughts of you. He feels your fingers trembling as you lift them to his cheeks, pulling his face up to press your lips against his, and that’s all it takes: he lets out a wanton moan against your mouth, pressing your legs further into your chest as his hips still against your ass, finishing deep inside of you.

Spots dance in his vision, head buzzing and ears ringing; he swears his orgasm lasts an eternity, body shaking and shuddering above you, letting out breathy moans into your mouth. He can feel his cum dribbling out of you, pooling onto the sheets beneath the two of you, so much of it that you can’t even keep it all in you. 

He doesn’t let his lips leave yours once—the kisses are messy and sloppy, devoid of all of the finesse that the two of you usually have, teeth nearly clashing, tongues sliding against each other’s. 

It’s only when his vision finally starts to clear and his head feels less on the verge of passing out does Dazai finally trails kisses from your lips to your jaw and down your neck before he finally collapses on top of you, mind entirely gone, like he’s floating on clouds. He pants as he tries to catch his breath, eyes lidded as he absently trails kisses along your chest and collarbone. He thinks the world could be ending around the two of you, and Dazai wouldn’t even have the capacity to notice. For the first time in four years, he really, truly allows his brain to rest.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, eyes drooping shut as he lets himself be enveloped by your arms, drowning in the comfort of your scent.

He doesn’t want to know. He’s scared to look at the clock and check.

“Tonight was supposed to be about you,” Dazai finally complains, burying his face in your chest as he pouts.

You only let out a soft laugh above him. “We have the rest of our lives for that… You deserved a break, Osamu.”

The rest of our lives.

Dazai’s throat tightens, vision blurring a bit at the thought—he can only barely bring himself to respond, and the words that slip out are not what he means to say: “I never thought I’d get to be with you like this again,” he admits, voice hoarse. “I never thought-”

“I know,” you interrupt, voice quiet, a bit shaky. “... I know.”

Of course, you know.

He can’t bring himself to say anything else, so he doesn’t, sinking into your arms and allowing himself the comfort he’s deprived himself of for so long. He almost starts to drift off—and god, he can’t remember the last time he’s dozed off willingly, only able to sleep after drinking copious amounts of alcohol or taking an even more copious number of sleeping pills. It’s not until you speak again does he stir back awake from the brink of sleep.

“What did he ask of you? Oda, I mean,” you finally ask, fingers brushing through his dark hair, lulling him further to sleep.

Dazai thinks that you’re cruel, asking him while his mind is still fogged from the exhaustion following his high, and he’s still half asleep in your arms, trying to regain his bearings. The words slip out before he can think twice, forgetting his fear of you laughing at the idea of him trying to be a better man.

“He asked me to be on the side that saves people… if both are the same to me, he wanted me to be a good man.”

The words dawn on him too late; he can hardly bring himself to look up at you, scared that he’s going to find an amused expression on your face or a derisive sneer. He wouldn’t blame you, he’s thought the same about himself ever since he left the Port Mafia, doubt and self-loathing riddling him with every step he takes in the light. He waits for the scoff, he waits for the laugh, he waits for-

“... I think he would be proud of who you’ve become, Osamu. I think you’ve fulfilled his request.”

Dazai does look up at you now, feeling particularly vulnerable, still scared that he might find a mocking expression on your face but he doesn’t. Only an uncharacteristically soft expression is painted on your face as you look up at the ceiling, a genuine one—a small smile and a look in your eyes that makes his heart feel warm. You don’t notice him looking until he lets slip out:

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers. 

(I love you, he means)

“I’ve missed you too,” you say back quietly.

(I love you too)

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu smut #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you

[copperbadge]

Hey Sam! Since it's currently AO3 donation time, I'm wondering what your thoughts are on it? I'm asking because you've written RPF and it's one of many "anti-AO3/anti-AO3 donations" people's favourite things to bring up when they're complaining about AO3 getting so many donations that it continuously obtains an excess of its donation goal whenever donation time rolls around? (Wow, how many times can I say "donation" in an ask?) Sorry if this question bothers you! I don't mean to offend or annoy.

Hey anon! Sorry it took a while to get to this, I don't even know if the drive is still going on, but the question came in while I was traveling and I didn't really have the time for stuff that wasn't travel-related. In any case, let's dig in! (I am not offended, no worries.)

So really there are two issues here and as much as some people who are critical of AO3 want to conflate them, they are different. While some criticism of AO3 may be valid, rhetoric against AO3 tends to misinterpret both in separate ways.

First there's the issue of what AO3 hosts -- RPF, yes, but more broadly, varied content that some people find distasteful or think should be illegal, which is a misunderstanding of the purpose of the archive and more broadly a dangerous attitude towards the concept of freedom of expression.

Second, there's the issue of AO3 generally outpacing its fundraising goals while not allowing monetization, which is a misunderstanding of the legal status of AO3 and to an extent a misunderstanding of philanthropy as a whole.

The longer I watch debates about content go on, the more I come to the conclusion that I was fortunate to have a teacher who really wanted to instill in us an understanding of free speech not as a policy but as an ongoing dialogue. It's not only that freedom of expression "protects you from the government, not the Justin" as the meme goes, but also that freedom of expression is not a static thing. It's an ongoing process of identifying what we find harmful in society and what we want to do about it.

Should the freedom to shout "Fire!" in a crowded theater be restricted? Should the freedom to yell slurs at drag performers? Should the freedom to teach prepubescent kids about gender, sexuality, and/or safe sex? Should the freedom to wear a leather puppy hood at Pride? Who gets to say, and why?

I was nine when my teacher did a unit on freedom of speech and the intersection of "harm prevention" and "censorship", which is (and should be) a discussion, not a set of ironclad rules. This ambiguity has thus been with me for over thirty years, and I'm comfortable with the ambiguity, with the process; I'm not sure a lot of people critical of AO3's content truly are. Perhaps some can't be, especially those affected by hate speech, but RPF is not hate speech. It's just fiction. Or is fiction "just fiction"? This is a question society as a whole is grappling with, although fandom seems to be a little out ahead of society in terms of how explicitly we discuss it.

The idea that prose can incite violence or cause harm is both valid to examine (witness the rise of fascism on the radio in the 20s, on Facebook and Twitter in the past ten years; they're very similar processes) and a very slippery slope. Because again: who decides what harm is, and what causes it, and what we do about it? Our values align us with certain beliefs, but those are only our values, not universal truths. So AO3 is part of the ongoing question of harm and benefit both to society and individuals.

AO3 itself, however, has a fairly defined policy that it is not meant to police content; it is an archive, not a bookstore or a school board. AO3 refines its TOS and policies as necessary, but the goal is always open access and as much freedom of expression as possible, and if that's uncomfortable for some people then that's a discussion we have to have; ignoring it won't make it go away. But it has to be a discussion, it can't be a unilateral change to the archive's TOS or a series of snaps and clapbacks, and I don't see a lot of people ready to move beyond flinging insults. Perhaps because they were taught a much more binary view of freedom of expression than I was.

So, self-evidently, I support AO3 and I don't have a problem with RPF. Whether other people do is something we're going to have to get to grips with, and that's likely to be a process that is still going on when most of us are dust. I'd rather have a century of ambiguity than a wrong answer tomorrow, anyway.

But whether AO3 hosts RPF is truly a separate issue from its donation drives, because it's a criticism some people level at the site which exists whether it's fundraising or not. So people can criticize AO3's open policy and they can give it as a reason not to support the site, but it's just one aspect of the archive and the fundraising as a whole should be examined separately.

I think AO3's fundraisers are deeply misunderstood (sometimes on purpose) because even people who are anticapitalist get a little crazy when money gets involved, and this is, to fandom, a lot of money -- a few hundred thousand, reliably, every fundraiser. To me, a fundraiser that pulls in three hundred grand is almost quaint; my current nonprofit pulls in better than ten million a year and my previous employer had an endowment of several billion dollars. At my old job I didn't even bother researching people who couldn't give us a hundred grand.

On the other hand, AO3 is an extreme and astounding outlier in the nonprofit world, because basically it's the only one of its kind to work the way it does. It is entirely volunteer-run on the operational side (ie: tag wranglers, coders, lawyers, etc) and has no fundraising staff (gift officers, researchers, outreach officers) as far as I'm aware. To pull in three hundred grand from individual one-time donations, without any paid staff and without even a volunteer fundraising officer? That's insane. That doesn't happen. Except at AO3.

What people misunderstand, however, is the basic status of a nonprofit, which is a legal status, not simply a social one. (I'm adding in some corrections here since it gets complicated and the terminology can be important!) The Organization for Transformative Works, the parent of AO3, is a nonprofit, which indicates how it was incorporated as an organization; additionally it is registered federally as tax-exempt, which carries certain perks, like not paying sales tax, and certain duties, like making their financials transparent to a certain extent. (Religious nonprofits are exempt from the transparency requirement.) If you're interested in more about nonprofits and tax-exempt status a reader dropped a great article here.

Nonprofits, unlike for-profit companies, cannot pay a share of their income to stakeholders. Nonprofits don't have financial stakeholders, only donors. They can have employees and pay them a salary -- that's me, for example -- but if a nonprofit pulls in $10M in donations, my salary is paid from that, I don't get a percentage and nobody else does either. That's what it means to be a nonprofit -- the money above operational costs goes back into the organization. The donations we (and AO3) receive must be plowed under and used for outreach, server maintenance, further fundraising, services expansion, et cetera. You can see this in the 990 forms on Guidestar or ProPublica, or in their more accessible breakdowns on Charity Navigator. Nonprofits that do not put the majority of their income towards service provision tend to get audited and lose their nonprofit status. So nobody's getting paid from all that money, and the overage that isn't spent goes into what is basically a savings account in the name of the nonprofit. (I'm vastly simplifying but that's the gist.) Using that money for personal purposes is illegal. It's called "private inurement" and there's a good article here about it. The money belongs to the OTW as a concept, not to anyone in or of the OTW.

So the biggest misunderstanding that I see in people who are mad at AO3 fundraisers is that "they" are getting all this money (who "they" are is never clearly stated but I'm pretty sure people think @astolat has a special wifi router that runs on burning hundred dollar bills) while "we" can't monetize our fanfic. But "they" get nothing -- nobody even earns a salary from AO3 -- and you can easily prove that by looking at the 990 forms they file with the government, which are required to be made public. You can see the most recently available 990, from 2020, here at Guidestar. Page seven will show you the "highest compensated" employees, all of whom are earning zero dollars or nonmonetary perks (that's the three columns on the right).

Either AO3 is entirely volunteer-run or someone's Doing A Real Fraud. The money the OTW spends is documented (that's page 10 and 11 primarily) and while they may pay for, say, the travel and lodging expenses of a lawyer going to DC to defend a freedom-of-expression case, they don't pay the lawyer for their time, or give them a cut of the income.

Despite what you've read, the reason "we" can't monetize our fanfics on AO3 has nothing to do with the site being the product of volunteer handiwork or AO3 having it in their terms of service or it being considered gauche by some to do so; it's because

IT'S ILLEGAL.

I cannot say this loudly enough: It is against the law for a nonprofit to be used by its staff, volunteers, or beneficiaries to earn direct profit from the services provided by the nonprofit.

You can be paid to work at one, but you cannot side-hustle by selling your handmade friendship bracelets for personal gain on the nonprofit's website. If the nonprofit knowingly allows monetization of its services, it can lose nonprofit status, be fined, be hit with back taxes, and a lot of other unpleasant bullshit can go down, including prosecution of those involved for fraud. If you put a ko-fi link on your fanfic, you are breaking the law, and if AO3 allows it, they are too.

Okay, that was a sidebar, but in some ways not, because it gets to the heart of the real complaints about AO3 fundraising, which is that people in fandom are sick or unhoused or in some form of need and other people in fandom are giving to AO3, a fan site that is financially stable, instead of giving to peoples' gofundmes or dropping money in their Ko-Fi or Paypal. And while it is a legitimate grievance that there are people who are in such desperate need while we live in an era of unprecedented abundance, that's not AO3's fault. AO3 doesn't solicit actively, there's no unasked-for mailings or calls from a gift officer. They just put a banner up on their website, and people give. (Again, this is incredibly outlier behavior in the nonprofit world, I'd do a case study on it but the conclusion would just be "shit's real, yo.") You might as well be mad that people give to their local food bank instead of someone's ko-fi.

You cannot lay at AO3's feet the fact that people want to give to AO3 instead of to your fundraiser. That's a choice individuals have made, and while you can engage with them in terms of why they made the philanthropic choices they did, to blame an organization they supported rather than the person who made the choice to give is not only incorrect but futile, and unlikely to win anyone over to supporting you. We know from research that guilt is not a tremendous motivator of philanthropy.

It is also not necessarily a binary choice; just because AO3 gets a hundred grand in $5 donations doesn't mean most of the people giving don't also give $5 elsewhere. I support the OTW on occasion, and I also fundraise for UNICEF and the Chicago Parks Foundation and BAGLY and others, in addition to giving monthly to several nonprofits that I have longterm relationships with -- my alma mater, the animal rescue where I got the Cryptids, my shul. And I give, occasionally and anonymously, to fundraisers that pass through Radio Free Monday, which are mainly individuals in need, because I was once in need and now I pay it forward. These are the choices I have made. Nobody twisted my arm. I respond poorly to someone making the attempt to do so by attacking places I've given.

I think the upshot is, after all of this that I've written, that we cannot begin to come to grips with questions of institutional inequality in philanthropy, or freedom of expression and censorship, until people actually understand what's going on, and too few do. So all I can do is try and explain, and hopefully create a forum for people to learn and grow when it comes to charitable giving.

Archive Of Our Own and the Organization for Transformative Works are products of our community and as that community changes, we will necessarily continue to re-evaluate what aspects of it mean and how AO3/OTW express the community sentiment. I hope that the ongoing discussion of support for AO3 also leads to people learning more about their philanthropic options. But criticizing AO3 for fundraising by attacking it for fulfilling one of its stated purposes is silly, and attempting to guilt people into giving in the ways one thinks they should give rather than how they do give is just going to make one extremely unlikable.

As members of this community, we have to be a part of the push and pull, but it's difficult to do that competently in ignorance. So, I do my best to be knowledgeable and to educate my readers, and I hope others will do the same.

#ao3 #otw #nonprofit #fundraisers #ao3 nonprofit #that's my new tag for posts like this #if anyone has any of the earlier posts I've done drop a comment in them so I see the post and can tag it #archive

[writtnbyhan]

NFWMB.

PAIRING: bang chan x female!reader

TAGS: protective chan, idol!chan, non-idol!reader, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 1945

PROMPT: person a gets into a heated argument with someone. person b starts threatening them, so person a picks up person b and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.

warnings: what the prompt says, lol — arguments (not between chan and reader). very very minor violence (arm grabbed), bruising, swearing. Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: well, baby's first post. I really hope someone likes this ? my goal is to participate in nanowrimo in my own way so expect weekly posts from yours truly. I was nervous about what to write about bc of it being my first post but I needed to write something or I'd never do it. starting with chan feels right, though I wish I can get to write more fluff soon 😭 this was fun tho! I really like protective and possessive chan<3

You didn’t intend for him to hear. Mostly, because you thought you could handle things on your own, but also because you knew it would somehow end up like this.

You have been visiting the building where the boys work for as long as you remember being in their lives. It’s not your fault, given that they spend almost every waking moment there, working. And the one whose time was taken the most by it happened to be your boyfriend. It was a Saturday and he was working, which wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t healthy. You let it slide sometimes, when you knew time was pressing on him and he needed to be there, for his own peace of mind. But everything was ready for the comeback, there was absolutely no reason for him to spend his weekend locked up in that so-familiar room.

So, you did the only logical thing: went there to drag him out, knowing only you where capable of doing so. No amount of puppy eyes from his kids could do what you could with just asking — you were his girlfriend, after all, it was expected that he’d have a soft spot for you.

You felt the problems creeping on you as soon as you stepped foot in the building. There were new people there, new workers. You hated when new staff started working, because they were still too nosy, and because they would ask too many question, some of which you wouldn’t be able to answer without one of the boys by your side to prove your credibility. It was okay, though, you could only imagine how many girls could go to the front desk and claim what was your truth — “I’m looking for my boyfriend”.

Luckily, the girl at the front desk, Sun Hee, already knew you. She only smiled at you when she saw you enter the building, and her tired smile should’ve been warning enough. You walked to her with a matching smile of your own, she knew you were there to pick up a overworking boyfriend, but you still needed to sign your name in the records.

“hi, lovely! what’s got you tired today?” you asked, curiosity so strong you couldn’t help asking.

“new staff’s first weekend. sometimes I wonder how they got hired in the first place”, she answers truthfully, sighing. She sends you a look you know it’s a warning — beware, idiots walking around feeling entitled!

You sigh, too. That’s going to be troublesome, especially today.

“hope I don’t get to met them today, at least until I find Chan. The boys didn’t warn me, or I would have brought one of them with me”

She showed a sympathetic smile, nodding.

“Prince charming is on studio 3, same as always”, she rolls her eyes playfully.

It says something about your overachieving boyfriend that not only the staff knows where he is all the time, but also that you have almost made friends with said staff. God, you needed to convince him to spend less time working.

After thaking Sun Hee and promising to chat more later, you walked to the elevator, setting to find Chan. You could amost picture him — black hoodie, black beanie hiding his messy curls, and headphones in. You smiled at the image in your head, a much too familiar one, one you loved so much.

Smile still present in your face, you stepped out of the elevator on the corresponding floor, checking different doors that had lights on. You were here to pick up Chan, yes, but you didn’t rule out finding Hyunjin or Felix overworking themselves too. The blondes were quick to follow their leader to the building any day, claiming they always “needed” the extra practice. Jeongin would be just as annoying as they were to you, if it wasn’t for his baby status, which meant everyone took a little more care of him (Minho more than anyone, checking that the boy didn’t overwork himself regularly).

Of course, checking every room as if you didn’t know where you were going to may have looked suspicious, you will give the man that. You were glad he was doing his job, just — well, maybe you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe he was.

“Excuse me, miss, who are you and where are you going?” He was at least 30 cm taller than you, and he was almost as buff as Changbin. You weren’t intimidated at first, you knew your presence had been cleared for, you had a right to be there, and you had got through the entrance desk, so he must know you were allowed there, right? Maybe he was just trying to help.

“Oh, hi! I’m Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend and checking to see if one of his friends is here as well”, you explained.

He stepped closer, almost invading your personal space. You took two steps back.

“Who are you looking for?”, he was eyeing you as if you were suspicious, a threat even. You, who was dressed in a skirt and probably looked like a mouse next to him.

“My boyfriend”, you repeated, “Christopher Bang Chan. He is in one of those studio rooms”, you added matter-of-factly.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to escort you outside. You shouldn’t be here.” The man said, loudly, like he wanted to be heard. Ah, you thought, he is one of the new ones. It was common, you have seen it happen one too many times — new staff is always trying to prove themselves as good.

You smiled, though you were a little intimidated now. After all, you were alone in a hallway with the man who kept getting closer.

“Why is that? I am allowed here”, you tried to keep calm.

“Look, I don’t know how you passed the front desk, but fans should not be inside the building!”, the man yelled at you, his arm reaching out until he could take you by the wrist, his hold tight enough to bruise.

“Hey! You’re hurting me, stop it. Let me go!” You started struggling, trying to force your arm out of the man’s hold.

“Stop fighting or I’ll call security”, he threatened. You were about to tell him to do so, you’d wait by him until security came there and showed the man that your info was in the system and you were, actually, allowed there. You didn’t get a chance, though, for your boyfriend’s voice reached your ears as soon as the man stopped talking.

“You let her go or I’ll call security myself”, Chan’s voice showed his anger, and as he got closer you saw the determined look in his eyes that made you worry a little. You didn’t doubt Chan was capable of hitting the man if he didn’t let you go right now.

The man, apparently, didn’t notice that, for he did not let go of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I’ll have her removed from the building immediately, I don’t know how she got inside.” He was tugging at your wrist, to which you kept quiet. If you expressed how much it hurt, the situation could escalate more than you wanted it to.

“She got inside because she’s allowed to. Now, I said: let her go.” Chan’s voice was ice cold, almost spitting the words at the man’s face. Finally, your arm was free, and you rushed to take your own wrist so as to cover the red marks, evidence of the strong hold the man had on you.

“Why doesn’t she have a pass, then?”

“She doesn’t need one because she’s not a guest. Did you even care to ask about that or check the system? You know, that type of irresponsible behaviour could get you fired — you can’t just go around the building threatening and grabbing people by force!” Chan’s voice got louder near the end.

“It’s okay”, you quipped, putting a hand in Chan’s chest as an attempt to calm him down. He was protective, you knew as much, but he was also a lovely person who you knew didn’t want to get anyone fired. Still, you knew he’d do something like that for you if you asked for it.

That was a wrong move, apparently, because it meant letting him see the marks on your arm.

“what the fuck?” his words were whispered, but it was obvious the anger that came with them. “Man, what is wrong with you? You should have checked before bruising her arm like that! What gives you the right to decide who is and isn’t allowed here?! That’s the front desk’s job, if she’s on the fucking third floor, then I think it’s fucking obvious she passed security. I need your name for I will have to file a complaint about this, grabbing someone like this is violent and no excuse of security can make it right because you are not supposed to even touch here — if you think she is not allowed here, you call security, you do not bruise my girlfriend’s arm.”

Chan’s voice is loud, and he is so close to the man you could tell it is some kind of threat, or maybe show of strenght. The man’s jaw was tense, as if he was ready to argue with the idol himself. You looked around the hallway, not knowing what to do or how to stop this. The man that had grabbed your arm clearly felt too entitled for his own good, and you worried that he might try to turn things physical.

Lucky for you, he didn’t even get a chance to answer before you heard a door open and close quickly, someone rushing out of one of the practice rooms.

You think you have never been happier of seeing the freckles in Felix’s face.

“Chan, everything okay?” sunshine boy asked, putting his arm around you as soon as he was close enough. His voice seemed to get Chan out of whatever state he was in, for he took a few steps back, still not breaking eye contact with the other man.

“Yeah, this dude just grabbed y/n’s arm and bruised her wrist because it’s apparently his first week here and he already feels too entitled.”

Felix looks at you, looking for something in your eyes, before getting closer to his friend.

“Okay, let’s go grab our things and go home to see if she needs to put some ice on her wrist”. He doesn’t let Chan answer before taking his hand with his smaller one, intertwining his fingers and almost dragging him out of there. You’re quick behind them, taking Chan’s other hand to give him some peace of mind.

Felix looks back at you and you smile in thanks. You know your boyfriend is way too protective, but a situation like this had never happened before. It’s good to know he’d do anything to defend you, but you still didn’t want him to get in a physical fight in his workplace.

“Don’t you dare think this gets any of you out of the hook for working on one of your free days, boys.” You reprimand them, hands still intertwined while entering the studio. Chan’s calmer now, his cheeks blushed with what you guess is something akin to embarrassement; you know he doesn’t like getting like this, but sometimes his emotions overpower him. You kiss his cheek, deciding to not comment on the subject until he does so himself. After all, you achieved what you came here to do — collect whichever stray kid had wandered their way to work on a weekend and get them home.

#✿ . . cami writes #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader

[yanderenightmare]

Meaner callous Gojo with cursed spirit darling pleeease :(

Gojo Satoru

TW: slight NSFW, noncon/dubcon, blood/gore, death of curses, abduction and captivity, mentions of previously maltreated captives and their deaths

gn reader

“Huh? I didn’t see you.” The man with the white hair said casually, holding a drippy head by the scruff of their scalp – having torn it clean off the body that now lay gushing in a pool of its own sticky red insides. Still warm but lifeless.

You’d been hiding amongst the other remains. Your mind struggling to cope with the chaos surrounding you, so lost that the thought of running away hadn’t even had the time to surface yet – having left you wading around in the blood and guts aimlessly – soaked through and through with death and chilled to your own weary brittle bones.

The end was imminent, and you couldn’t wrap any of your thoughts together to either accept or deny it.

He dropped the head in his fist with an unceremonious splash and took long strides – in front of you sooner than you could bat an eye, much less crawl away or decide if you were going to try and fight him off before it was too late – before he had his long fingers curled around your throat, lifting you up off your feet. 

“No wonder~” He laughed. “You’re so weak; I couldn’t sense your cursed energy at all~” 

He was frivolous while you cacked for air, kicking your feet beneath you, trying to pry his hand from your neck with such weak effort it was pitiful to watch.

And yet he remained unfazed by the pathetic struggle, only offering a slant of his head while eyeing you up and down – his orbs going from a stark neon to a simple sky blue as he released his technique. Holding you up simply with his own sheer strength. 

“Hm…” He hummed then, tilting his head to the other side, now with a thoughtful pout on his lips. He brought his other hand up to rub his chin as though he was debating something. “Be a shame to kill you, really…”

You remained gasping for breath as he mused – but only for another short moment until you felt him pause in his squeezing, loosening the chokehold right before your head could squish free from the rest of your body. 

“You’ll make such a pretty new trophy.”

He was smiling, but it was far from kind – though he let go of your throat entirely, letting you drop to your hands and knees, spluttering with coughs – staring at your own reflection in the crimson bath beneath you. Able to spot how terribly panicked you looked before you felt him loop an arm around your stomach – lifting you, then beaming the two of you away.

You’re still in shock when you’re dropped to a different floor someplace else only a moment later – and though the marble is much colder than the blood you’d been sitting in prior, it isn’t the reason you’re shaking. Rather, it’s the recurring flashes of fellow curses being leveled like trampled grapes – in the dozens by a single sorcerer who hadn’t even broken a sweat. One who’d bore a smile the entire time.

“Come on now, pretty curse-” The man dismissed, seemingly completely disconnected from the turmoil of your trauma. “Say hie to your new home~”

This time he grabbed you by your tunic, holding it by the neck as he dragged you along further into the room with him until he sat down on a plush sofa there – pulling you into his lap to straddle him. 

You didn’t resist – you didn’t do anything – shell-shocked into a plaint stillness while struggling to accept the truth behind all the stickiness that had your skin coated and shivering with growing cold.

His face was also splattered with different shades – some red, some blue, some purple. You wonder what shade yours was with a tremble in your throat as he reached out to thumb your chin, angling it as he got in close with his lips tugged in a grin.

“The last pet I kept ended up dying of hunger. It didn’t behave right, so I had to starve it.” He revealed – bright eyes gleaming – rendering you further scrambled in thought, unable to grasp what he was saying or that he was even talking to you.

You just blinked blankly in return.

“Can you talk? Or are you an even weaker curse than I thought?” He asked then – cocking his head down and sideways – leering up at you with an eerie twinkle that made you tense with a small whimper. 

You hiccupped, lip quivering – suddenly reeled back to reality by the bite of his blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “Uhm- I…” Your voice was weak in your throat, breaking before it amounted to much more, feeling so thin under his heavy gaze while he peered at you without blinking. “I talk…” was all you were able to squeak out in the end.

“Oh- good. I was afraid you couldn’t understand me. But I see~ you’re just in shock ‘cause I obliterated all your friends.” His smile widened, and you paled even more in light of it. 

Swallowing thickly. Now with the numbness of the shock finally dying down, you were allowed to process your fear more entirely – resulting in tears welling and running down your cheeks in quick rivulets – breaths picking up speed until they tripped into each other on their way free.

“Oh- don’t cry~” He chuckled, watching you break down – your swiveled eyes looking at your blood-soaked hands, trembling at the sight. 

He ran his hand up from your chin to cup your face, his smile tugged into a toothy smirk – amused by your meltdown – and even happier when your eyes snapped to return his, glistening with fear and the blitz of panic.

“Be a good little curse for me, and I won’t hurt you like I did the others.” He offered suggestively, planting his forehead against yours while getting lost in that beautiful look riddling your face. 

Completely relaxed and comfortable – flirty as he rubbed the small of your back almost soothingly, gliding up slowly beneath the fabric of your tunic. He used no pressure – being featherlight with fine fingertips – as though in mockery of how he’d easily reached in and torn hearts out of ribcages only a moment earlier.

You swallowed again. Feeling caged by the serene blue staring back at you.

“How… how do I do that?” You asked him timidly, and he marveled at how human you looked – chewing your bloated lip with such pretty misty eyes peeled at him.

You weren’t much of a curse at all, he thought with another laugh – licking his teeth at how obediently you sat in wait on his lap – more like a little animal than anything else – wounded in the hands of its hunter. 

“Follow my lead.” He answered your question hotly, his eyes glinting with something playful but equally sick and sadistic as he stroked your lips with his blood-stained fingers – eagerly watching your little nose twitch at the scent while he pushed two of the digits onto the wet bed of your tongue. “Can you do that, pretty curse?”

You offered only an uneasy whimper, tasting the cursed blood with cinched brows. 

It visibly aroused him, making his lips tug at the corners – leveling you with his keen stare as though daring you to do anything but submissively lick the fingers clean.

There’s always been something very sweetly satisfying about forcing a curse to please him. Due to them being purely selfish in nature, it becomes torture in and of itself to make them serve anyone other than themselves. 

But strange as it was, observing you, he couldn’t decide if it pained you the same way he’d come to recognize after breaking his many previous pets…

Maybe you’re just a little slow on the uptake. You do seem a little confused, as though his cruelty has you asking yourself why at every turn instead of making you feel the normal rage that most curses fall instinctively to. They all always look at him with such searing hatred, but you’re just… he can’t exactly place the expression as you allow his fingers to rest on your tongue.

Suppose… well… you look as though you’re getting a little shy.

It's a funny thing to witness in a curse. It would have been normal if it were chagrin, but it doesn’t really have that temper to it. 

“Wow~ I didn’t know curses could be this humble~” He drawled then, still playing with the wet warmth of your plushy tongue. “Most of you put up a fight- too proud to understand your own good.” He squinted his eyes, finding it more and more strange how you hadn’t tried to bite him yet – even as he split his digits like a scissor and traced the points of your teeth. “Guess you’re just better at knowing your place, huh?”

He withdrew from your mouth and dropped the hand to your collar – dancing the pale spit-slicken digits there as though to remind your throat of its former grip around it. 

You flinched when he pulled you onto his bulge; breath caught in your throat and kept there as he pressed his smile onto your lips in a kiss.

His chest rumbled with something guttural, sighing into your mouth with rowdy hunger. 

You fumbled, taken aback – but he followed until you accepted it. Then his hand ran further up your back, lifting your shirt on the way.

“Up with your hands~” He guided, and you, though trembling and confused, listened all the same – raising your arms so he could pull the article off over your head. “Good curse~” He purred – right before laying his tongue out flat on your newly exposed skin, licking along the blood stains on your chest. 

You’d probably cringe if it didn’t horrify you first. How he moaned at the taste and strengthened his hold, grinding up into you with his hips – pressing you down against himself.

Lifting his head, he attacked your lips again and you allowed it, tasting the blood left on both your tongues as he pushed his inside along yours – exploring your mouth with sounds so hungry they made you whimper in return.

Your bottoms were ripped off suddenly, leaving you naked while cold fingers peppered over the fat of your hips until stationing themselves there firmly, carding into the plush and rolling you over his clothed bump. Hissing at the feel, he bit your lip. And while you whined from the sting it left, he tore open his jacket and wrung it off fast, tossing it somewhere behind you. 

Beneath it, he revealed a pristine silk button-up – as white and shiny as his hair – looking out of place against the blood splatter on his skin. 

“Come on, make yourself useful-” He groaned with heat, nodding suggestively to his chest, taking your hands and placing them close to his throat – again, as though trying to tempt you into doing something stupid.

But you ignore the bait, undoing the buttons instead of throttling his neck – as though the thought didn’t even cross your mind.

He kept you riding his crotch – his mouth going to your chest again, sucking your nipples into his mouth. Making your job hard, where your hands kept stilling with the need to clutch something. 

But eventually, all his buttons were done up – opening to a firm torso of chiseled alabaster abs. No scars to prove he’d ever struggled. Just fair skin lacking a single lasting blemish.

“Like what you see?” He snickered lowly, having caught you staring.

You didn’t know what to say, but either way, any words were caught in your throat as he spun you on your back, bearing down on you with his hand returning to your neck.

He’d found it strange, but now he found it worrying. Vision clouded with heat though still trustworthy, he couldn't help but conclude that you weren’t going to fight him at all. 

But that just didn’t make any sense.

“What makes you so eager to please, huh?” He asked then, a lilt in his voice as he crept closer – leaning until his bangs brushed your forehead. “What type of curse are you, exactly…”

You pressed your lips together, bowing your head – having dreaded the question.

“It’s embarrassing, I’d rather not say…” You tried, but the sorcerer wouldn’t allow it – holding you captive with his eyes.

“I wasn’t asking.”

You trembled some but had it on your tongue, and then he tightened the fist on your throat and squeezed the truth out of you.

“Weakness...” You finally let slip, feeling the humiliation tickle up your spine – making you goosefleshed where you lay naked beneath the all-powerful six-eyes whose stare only urged for more detail, compelling you to indulge him. 

Your lip quivered but then gave in yet again. 

“Made from the self-loathing of weaklings whose only method of survival is to manipulate the strong into pitying them.” 

The shame of it made you go flushed. 

“It’s... the life of a leach.” You balled your little fists and nibbled your lip. “It’s pathetic…”

It took a while for him to accept it – stunned by what a ridiculous type of curse you revealed yourself to be. But then he loosened his grip again like before, humming out a light chuckle he couldn’t help.

“You’re the only one I didn’t kill.” He said then, audibly and visibly finding it very funny.

You blinked, confusion taking your face – once again looking up at him and regretting it, feeling the weight of those severe comet blues rest heavy on you – life-threatening in and of themselves.

“Seems being pathetic saved your life.” He stated – as though in a compliment. 

You weren’t sure of its intentions, finding yourself to be so very small lying there beneath him while confessing to being such a lowlife.

“But there’s more to it, isn’t there?” He cocked a brow, leaning in even closer until his nose bumped yours. “You feed off of the strong. Isn't that right, pretty curse?” His voice edged with something smug and something carnal – watching your round eyes hang off his. “You want me. Isn't that right?”

You took a moment but then nodded real pitifully – your lips brushing each other. He could see so clearly now, swirling in your big eyes – how badly you wanted him.

He chuckled under his breath, whispering against your lips, “Behave, and I’ll make sure to keep you well-fed.”

#yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen headcanons #gojo headcanons

[stvolanis]

i loveeeeee ur writing ah!!!!! just read ur most recent farleigh one and i was foaming at the mouth <3 idk if ur reqs are open but i cant stop thinking about being in a situationship with farleigh and finally getting sick of it, u break up with him and hes like ‘?? whatever’ thinking that u will come back but when u dont after a few days/weeks he starts lowkey panicking and basically begging u to take him back… just need him crying begging and being pathetic <3 rlly making him beg for it and purposely making him jealous with other guys just to make him suffer :p then when u finally decide to forgive him he fucks u crazy good and RAW 💕

Thank you so much! Also, sorry if this isn’t like EXACTLY what you wanted D:

Love & War

PAIRINGS: Farleigh Start! X Fem! Reader

WARNINGS: foul language, situationship, toxic! Farleigh, mentions of drugs & alcohol, angst, possessiveness, jealousy, crying

NSFW WARNINGS: Switch! Farleigh, Switch! Reader, choking, spitting, tummy bulge, face sitting, breath play, slight size kink, slapping, degradation, praise, dumbification

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Farleigh Start was a cunning, asshole of a man. You’d know, because you’ve been in love with him since you’re late highschool days.

Well—you didn’t know him personally till you both started attending Oxford. You admired him from a distance, as did many other people. You were never popular enough to bask in his limelight. You only ever dreamed of being with someone as amazing as him.

You thought Farleigh had no idea who you were, and truth be told, he didn’t. But he knew of you. He seen you everywhere, always somehow where he was. You were pretty, probably the most prettiest girl he’d ever seen; you were just so quiet. He knew that the people he hung around would eat you alive. You wouldn’t survive in his world.

So, he never dragged you into it. He watched you from afar for years, both of you unknowingly having feelings for each other. Deep down inside, Farleigh knew his friends weren’t the only reason he couldn’t be with you. He, himself had many issues of his own. One of the worst ones being his fear of rejection, and the second runner up; his pride. Always held so high, never coming down for anyone. It would get him hurt one day, but he’d have to realize that on his own.

When you began attending Oxford, you became friends with Oliver, who had become friends with Felix. He was your ticket into the “in crowd”, as you liked to call it.

You attended parties, stuck around for drinks and quickly grew popularity of your own. This didn’t go unnoticed by Farleigh, who you finally, after years of silence, began to talk to.

It was everything you imagined. He was nice, funny, a bit of a bitch in just the right way. Even when you were in a group of people, your eyes somehow always found his. The two of you would sneak away together, talk about nothing aimlessly for hours on end. Counting stars as you rambled about your favorite constellation.

At night, you’d meet at the bridge, sit on the edge in complete silence just to be in each others presence. Your hands would meet, and electricity sparked through your body. He made you feel like you were walking on clouds, and there was never a dim day when you were with him.

He was charismatic, confident, charming—everything you wanted to be. You were complete opposites of each other, but in just the right way to balance each other out. He noted every little thing about you, so much so that he began to do some of the things you did.

He’d use the dorky slang you used subconsciously when talking to other people, or start playing with the pretty rings on his finger like you told him you did when you got nervous. He listened to the music you recommend him, and connected the dots as to why you liked those songs. It all made sense, they explained you perfectly.

Everything was going great, till it wasn’t.

You didn’t know how it happened, or why, or maybe even what you could’ve done that changed him—but suddenly, he started acting different around you. The time you spent together was shortening and as were his touched and glances.

And the worst part about it? You weren’t in a relationship. You never where, but everyone just kinda knew that you were Farleighs’, and Farleigh was yours. No one ever questioned it, not even you, till now.

As you sat across Farleigh at the pub, playing with the flimsy black straw in your cocktail. You were so tired of him and his hot and cold actions and words. First moment he wanted you, and the next, he acts like he doesn’t even know you. It hurts, and you were sick of it.

Farleigh was talking to Felix about their home in Saltburn and stupid stories of how they used to throw these ‘amazingly grand’ parties during the summer and breaks they had. You huffed, standing up before harshly pushing in your chair. Why did you have to sit here and deal with this fuckary if you didn’t have to? You deserved better than the half-assed shit he was barely even offering.

As you walked away from the table full of people, a certain pair of eyes followed you, but you’d rather have died than look back. You heard footsteps follow hastily behind you as you exited the pub, the cold air welcoming you as you shivered.

“What’s your problem?” He shouted from behind you. You laughed dryly, spinning around to face him on your heel. “Oh you must be fucking kidding.” You laughed out. “My problem? No, what the fuck is your problem?” You yelled back at him.

“You’re the one who stormed off like a damn toddler! So enlighten me.” He fired back at you with furrowed brows. You felt your eyes water. God, you didn’t want to cry in front of him, but it hurt so badly. “Farleigh…why are you being like this?” You muttered.

He groaned as he ran a hand down is face. “Jesus, what are you on about?” He yelled out. “You keep leading me on!! I don’t understand it. You want me one second and the next you don’t!” You yelled back, pausing for a moment.

“You act like you love me and leave me the next second and it hurts, Farleigh. You hurt me!” You sobbed out, wiping your tears from your cheeks with your sleeve. He was taken aback for a moment, his mouth opening and closing. Almost as it he was at a loss for words. “That’s not—no, I didn’t—“ he started, but you cut him off as he reached to grab you.

“No. We’re done. Whatever we had is done. It’s over.” You said as you back away from him. Something inside of him snapped, and you could see it in the way his jaw clenched and eyes hardened. “Fine. Go on then. See if I give a fuck.” He chuckled out, shrugging his shoulders.

You couldn’t believe him. You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out his mouth. After everything you’ve said and done together, he has the audacity to act like he’s the superior one in this situation? It was the icing on the cake for you.

Tears ran down your face, and as they hit the ground, Farleigh felt his heart clench. Never did he wanna hurt you, but it’s what he had to do, or so he thought. He was gonna have to leave to go back to Saltburn with Felix in a month, and he couldn’t bring himself to take you.

Yes, he had fun times at Saltburn—but his family was crazy, rich, narcissistic assholes and he didn’t want you around them. More over, he didn’t want someone like Venetia to corrupt you in that way. He didn’t want you to become like her.

He knew he was being a dick, distancing himself from you. And he planned to keep it that way, but god, you made it nearly impossible to stay away. You were so inviting, how could he not succumb to his urges when it comes to you? He knew better, but he felt on top of the world when he was with you and he didn’t wanna let that go.

Watching you walk away from him right now made tears form in his own eyes, but all he could do is watch as you slipped further and further away from him. And he knew it was all his fault. All because he couldn’t communicate to you what the problem with himself was. He felt like such a coward, but he refused to hurt you more than he already had.

It had only been two weeks since you and Farleigh fell off. It was hard for you, and it was the hardest thing you’d ever done, but it was needed. You knew that.

When you stopped talking to him, you continued being friends with Felix and Oliver, but it was a nuisance. You were trying your hardest to forget about the tall, curly haired man and move on with your life, but they nearly made it impossible.

When you would all hang out, other friends included, Farleigh would show up and say act as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you. Felix and Oliver weren’t dumb, Farleigh was the one who came crying to them about what had happened. They seen right through Farleighs facade, acting as if he’s okay.

They were doing this kind of stuff on purpose, casually. Asking you about Farleigh, or bringing him up in conversation. They wanted you to give Farleigh another shot, but you gave him one too many chances to redeem himself, and you weren’t having it.

Felix invited you to one of his little frat parties, and I say little very lightly, because everyone knows the entire campus attends his parties.

You had no interest, but Oliver had insisted on you coming. Making it his mission to drag you out of the comfort of your bed. “You need this.” He insisted as he dug through your clothes. He pulled out an ed-hardy, strapless dress and some red platformed boots. “Oh this is fuckin’ perfect, love.” He smiled as he held it up to you.

“I dunno, Ollie. I don’t think I should go..” you muttered as you sat down on the edge of your bed, bringing your knees to your chest. Oliver sighed. “Cmon, just let loose tonight. You’ve been moping around for like ever!” He huffed out, yet a smile returning to his face as he held up some jewelry. “These’ll go good with it.” He urged.

You groaned and got up, snatching the clothes and jewelry out of his hands. “Out.” You grumbled. Oliver clapped his hands excitedly as he stepped out so you could get dressed.

The ed-hardy dress he chose for you hugged your curves in all the right places, your tits pushed together with the small padding built into the dress. You let Oliver back in and his jaw dropped. “You look fucking edible! Maybe you’ll get laid tonight.” He said, bumping your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, yet a smile danced on your lips. Oliver always knew how to make the best out of a bad situation, and you loved him for that. “Let’s go before I change my mind.” You laughed, he nodded his head.

When you arrived to the party, the lights were flashing different colors. Red, blue, green, etc. it reflected off of Felixs’ shirt as he approached you, Farleigh following next to him. You clicked your tongue and looked around for an exit.

A boy caught your eye. You’d seen him around the campus, he was friends with Felix a while ago but Farleigh didn’t like him, which ended with Felix ending their friendship. Nathan, was his name, you thought as you approached him.

His eyes trailed up and down your body, stopping at your breasts that were spilling out of the thin top part of your dress. “Hey.” You purred, batting your lashes up at him. He smiled. He was handsome, you had to admit—but no where near as handsome as Farleigh.

You shook your head from the thought, directing your attention back to the mediocre boy in front of you. “Hey, baby.” He whistled out. You giggled, obviously fake, but he couldn’t tell; most likely strung out on cocaine and alcohol.

His hands snaked around your waist and he pulled you to him. He was disgustingly sweaty and reeked of cheap cologne, almost as if he poured the whole bottle on himself. Sickeningly too strong, making you gag. You forced yourself to ignore it, instead focusing on the way his hands cupped your ass in your dress.

You turned around, your back pressed to his front, only to be met with Farleighs eyes from across the body-filled room. He was staring at you, then down to the hands around your waist, and his jaw clenched. Anger, betrayal and hurt was all Farleigh felt as he watched some stranger feel you up.

But he couldn’t do anything about it. He brought this upon himself, and he knew that. But he also knew he’d do anything for your forgiveness, so he marched his way over to where you stood. You knew you should have ran away, but you didn’t.

You let him rip you away from the stranger holding you. You let him drag you all the way back to your dorm silently, a painfully tight grip on your upper arm the whole way there. You knew this was wrong, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

Once you reached your dorm, he slammed you against the door that was now shut. “What the fuck was that, hm?” He muttered. But something was different. His voice, still hard, wavered and you noticed tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You muttered.

All the sudden, he broke down. The tall boy, usually filled with confidence and pride fell to his knees before you with a small, barely noticeable sob. You stood there, unknowing of what to do, or what to say. This was new territory for you.

“M’sorry, baby. Please—“ he said through his tears. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Know I was I piece of shit, I’m sorry.” He repeated the words you longed to hear over and over again. “I’m sorry.” He said. Those two words weren’t ever said enough from him, and you basked in every moment he said it. It made you feel a sense of power over him.

You turned his arrogant, cocky ass into a whiney little boy begging for your forgiveness at your feet and, nasty enough, you fucking loved it. You loved that only you were able to bring him to his knees like this.

“Oh, You’re sorry? Hm?” You cooed down at him, running your fingers through his curly hair. He sniffled as he looked up at you, his pretty lashes wet with tears. “So fuckin’ sorry. Promise I’ll be better.” He muttered out, hugging your stomach.

“Prove it.” You told him. He rubbed his eyes with one of his hands as he looked up at you again. “What?” He muttered. You smiled. “Get on the bed.” was all you said.

He nodded before climbing onto the bed, laying on his back. “What—“ he started, but you didn’t let him finish. “Eat my pussy good, make me cum with your mouth and then I’ll forgive you.” You said. He sat up on his elbows and watched you undress through hooded eyes, till you were wearing absolutely nothing.

Your nipples grew hard under the cold air, and the wetness between your thighs he could see from where he lied on your bed; it glistened in the dim light of your bedroom. Your lips were glossy and plump as your tongue glided over them, and he felt his cock harden in his pants.

You climbed on top of him, hovering your pussy over his face. His mouth watered at the sight, and he gripped his cock through his pants. Your lowered yourself onto him till your full weight rested on his face.

He began lapping at your cunt with everything he had. Licking and slurping at your juices that ran down his chin. You tasted like heaven on his tongue, and he couldn’t get enough. You were the drug in him, and he was going fucking wild.

He was a starved man, and it had been too long since he had you like this. He whined when you lifted off of his face, pushing his head back down when he tries to extend his neck to connect his mouth to your pussy again desperately.

You click your tongue. “So desperate, hm?” You mocked with a laugh. Farleigh played nice long enough, you were holding up his meal, and he didn’t like it. “M’not fuckin done.” He growled out. You let out a gasp as his arms wrapped around your thighs, slamming you back down onto his mouth.

You moaned out as his tongue swirled around your bundle of nerves. “Farleigh!” You yelped. He groaned into your messy cunt, sending vibrations through it that had your head falling back. “Perfect little cunt.” He said, Voice muffled by your pussy.

His laps at your cunt more erratic as your moans became more high pitched, signaling that you were on the verge of your orgasm. Your hips moved against his face, your hands entangling themselves in his hair as you glided your cunt across his tongue.

“M’gonna cum, oh my god—“ you moaned out as you squeezed your breast. Farleigh moaned. “Cum on my fuckin’ tongue. Good girl” He grumbled against you as you felt a wave of pleasure roll off of you. The little pinch in your stomach finally releasing into that delicious orgasm you were so desperately chasing.

Farleigh was drowning in your juices, slurping and licking, taking everything you had to offer. He let you ride out your orgasm, your little clit bumping his nose in just the right way, your moans growing lower as you came down from your high breathlessly.

“M not done with you. Actin like a fuckin slut, letting that motherfucker touch you.” He said through clenched teeth as flipped you around onto your back, hoisting your legs over his shoulders.

He lined his cock to your entrance, clenching around nothing. He smeared his pre-cum around your folds before slowly, almost teasingly, sinking into you. You felt him fill you so full of him, almost painfully. The sting was so agonizingly good, and you wanted more.

When he bottomed out in you, his bottom lip was between his teeth, biting down so hard he nearly drew blood. You yelped when he lifted his hips before harshly slamming himself back into you, over and over again.

His pace began to pick up, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass loudly. You gripped around him firmly, so much so that he could barely pull out of you. It made him wince, but he wanted this more than anything. He’s been craving this since you left him; he jacked himself off at night to the thought of being in your warmth.

His hand found it’s way to your throat, gripping tightly. “Take this cock, baby. Know this slutty pussy can take it.” He muttered as pried your mouth open with his thumb. He spit into your mouth, lightly slapping the side of your face, signaling for you to swallow, to which you did.

You felt so small beneath him as he pounded relentlessly into you, the grip on your throat never wavering. His groans were like music to your ear, and the sudden flip in him turned you on to no extent. It was fucking perfect how he could be so needy in two different ways. First, begging for anything you’ll give him, and the next, taking what he wanted from you desperately.

“You with me, honey?” He moaned out against your ear. You mumbled incoherently, your words slurring together. You couldn’t focus enough to form a sentence with the way he was fucking you, your mind going blank. “Fucked you dumb. My stupid little whore.” He mocked as his hips stuttered against yours.

You knew he was close by the way he throbbed and swelled inside you, squeezing down onto him more as he hit that bundle of nerves inside of you with each thrust. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gripped onto Farleighs wrist that held your neck, heels digging into his back.

His breathing was uneven and both of your bodies were sweaty messes together, but what really had you in a chokehold was the way that even when he was dominating you, his whimpers never stopped. Still so needy for your cunt as you let him take what he needed from you helplessly.

He came deep inside of you, painting your gummy walls white with his seed. His hips stilled against you, making sure to stuff you full of his cum, not wanting any of it to go to waste. When he finally released your neck, you looked down to where you were connected but your eyes froze on the sight before you.

His tamed mound of hair above his cock was soaked with your juices, but what really got you, was the evident bulge showing through your stomach. He grabbed your hand, holding it onto your stomach where the bulge of his cock was. “Feel that? Remember, only I can fuck you this good.” He spat out as he pressed down, and you released a moan at the sensation.

His free hand traveled down to your clit, rubbing harshly and fast. “Gonna cum, please, can I cum?” You whimpered out as you clenched the sheets beneath you. Farleigh nodded feverishly. “Cum for me, be a good girl.” He muttered as he slowly fucked his cock into you at just the right pace.

The way he dragged along your walls, paired with the stimulation on your swollen clit, deprived clit had you reaching for the moon as you came for a second time tonight. Your mouth hung agape, not a word slipping out as a breathless moan slid past your plump lips. You needed this. You’d been craving this, and you finally got it.

Farleigh nestled himself in you, leaning his head down till his forehead was pressed against yours. Your hair was matted to your forehead from sweat, as was Farleighs, but you didn’t care. It was the least of your concerns. All you wanted was him, and you finally had him again, and this time it actually felt right.

But the words he spoke was what sealed the deal for you.

“I love you, y/n. From the moment I seen you sitting alone at lunch when we we’re sophomores back in Highschool, I’ve loved you. I loved you when you were small, shy and quiet, barely knowing anyone; and I love you now when you’re the socialist butterfly I know. I love you when you laugh, when you smile, when you speak, and even when you cry.” He said, tears running down your face.

“I will always love you.” He finished, kissing the tears that fell onto your rosy cheeks.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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#stvolanis #saltburn #saltburn fic #farleigh saltburn #saltburn thoughts #saltburn x reader #saltburn film #saltburn posting #saltburn movie #saltburn smut #saltburn imagine #farleigh imagine #farleigh x you #farleigh catton #farleigh x reader #farleigh smut #farleigh start #Felix catton #felix catton smut #Oliver quick #Oliver quick smut #felix x oliver #smut #angst #imagine #fanfic

[dcxdpdabbles]

Excuse me? I really love your work and I was just wondering if we can get another chapter of Passion for Fashion?? I really love that but no rush whether or not u wanna. (Also, I'd love to see the Batfam or croc or anyone be educated WHAT KC actually is lololol I just think it would be fun.)

Danny stares at the man across from him with barely concealed bemusement. Red Robin hides behind his menu, muttering about all the pizza toppings.

It seemed pineapple was a must, and he fought not to wrinkle his nose as various people shot their table side glances. He's noticed the staring since they changed, but Danny is tired of the lingering gawking.

He gets that his date looks suspicious in his get-up, but it's not the worst.

They had to stop at a second-hand store, where he went in to buy a trench coat, a pair of large sunglasses, and a fedora, per Red Robin's request. While inside the store, Red Robin somehow produced a blond wig and some makeup, changing his features just slightly so that he appeared to be a different person.

They both stop at a local gas station to change outfits and finish their prep work in the bathrooms.

Danny had gone in sweats, a stained shirt, and mismatched shoes—he had not been expecting a date—but when he left, he came out wearing an experimental style Dan had found.

It was called Corp Goth, and he secretly adored it. Maybe Sam was onto something when she said a pure black offit made anyone attractive.

It was a form-fitting black jeans, a top with a darker shade of black long-sleeve shirt, and a flowing black trench coat. Dan had included various jewelry pieces, with strict instructions on where to put them so that the style was "balanced," it gave him the slightest hints of old-style rock aesthetics.

Danny felt good about his clothes until Red Robin saw him. He didn't think he was that bad-looking, but if it caused the other to run into a streetlight, Danny would hate to think what other less kind people would say.

"Would Hawiian be alright?" Red Robin finally asks, his voice just a tad bit high. Is he that nervous to be seen by people?

Danny raises a brow. "If that's what you like. I'll do whatever you want me to."

The other teenager—is he? He looks older now with his make-up—a few years—and makes a strange choking sound. "Okay."

"Alright. So now that we know what to tell the waitress when she comes here, can we return to the fact you broke through my window?" Danny asks, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs to get comfortable.

A girl nearby chocks on her water, making Danny's head snap in her direction. Her friends quickly pat her back and urgently speak to the blushing girl. When he confirms she is all right, Danny returns his gaze to Red Robin.

He is taken aback by the sharp attention now being aimed at him. Yes, he can't exactly see the other eyes behind those dark sunglasses, but he feels the heavy stare all the same. "I want to discuss your connection to Killer Croc and the Infinite Realms."

Danny considers it. On the one hand, he can't talk about his secret mission, but on the other, he needs to find some information about this place. He's gotten bored wandering around, tinkering with things while the fashion contest dragged on.

They have been here for months and have made no headway in helping Batman. Heck, Danny has yet to even see him. If anything maybe this guy will know some information.

But he thinks he shouldn't lay all his cards just yet. So, he needs to bend the truth a little.

"There isn't much to tell about Killer. He was involved in our kidnapping a few days ago. I guess they hired him without explaining what the job was since he came to apologize for almost trafficking us." Danny shrugs, thinking over his answer as he takes a small sip of his soda, missing his mouth slightly. He quickly catches some of the spilled drink with his tongue, mentally debating himself for being so clumsy. There is a gasp from the same girl three tables away.

Danny fights the urge to sink into his seat as he ignores her. "He said he sells drugs, not people. How he tracked us down is anyone's guess, but since he came all the way in person, I figured I should invite him in and offer him a drink."

Red Robin tilts his head. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you invite him in and offer him a drink?"

"Ugh, 'cause it's good manners?" Honestly, did big-city folks really have no sense of being civil? Amity Park has a small population, but there are enough people to be called a city, and none of them have ever been confused by the idea of being invited in for a drink.

Red Robin considers this answer before he leans forward. "How about your connection to the Infinite Realms?"

Here, Danny carefully selects his replies, ensuring that all his answers are accurate, just not in the way the others will get. "You can say it was my parents, but mostly my mom. She was the one who made the final step and connected the family to the Realms."

"Your mom? Where is she?"

"Dead," Danny whispers, thinking of his own mom, whom he hasn't seen in weeks. He wonders if she or his dad has noticed him missing yet. If they have reported it.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

Red Robin looks down at his hands in silence in a show of respect. Danny can appreciate it. However, that doesn't last long before he lifts his head again, this time with a stubborn little tilt to his mouth.

"That wasn't a full explanation of how the Infinite Releams involve you or your brother."

Danny shrugs. "It's how we got our meta powers. The portal to the other side opened on Dan and me, triggering our ice and glowing eyes. We've been inside it a few times, but the portal sealed shut the last time. We haven't been able to go back."

"That's why you here," Red Robin says in great realization. "Gotham has enough death in it that it helps your powers."

Not really, but they can work with that. Danny smiles, putting one finger up against his lips, and Red Robin is true to his name by turning a lovely red hue. Danny hasn't seen anyone blush that hard since Jonny 13 when the other asked him out on a date.

It's cute.

"That and it's also the cheapest living city. Dan really has his heart set on being a fashion designer so we need to save money on fabrics and stuff."

"You're his model. Have you always wanted to go into modeling?"

"Not really. I like mechanical engineering more. Maybe when I finish helping Dan, I'll look for a school to apply to." Danny shrugs, leaning forward to give the other a smirk.

Star once told him that Danny's slow up and down was his best flirting technique after he had done her math homework for her. In return, she agreed to help him get better at dating.

He's not sure how well her lessons had gone, seeing as he still struggled to get a date back home (with the living anyone), but he thinks some of it was right since Red Robin goes even redder, if that's possible.

"Enough about me. How did you get involved in smashing widows and looking tasty in spandex?"

"I-um- well funny enough I-" Whatever he was going to say is lost as a figure jumps down from the darkness, landing on their table. Danny yelps, pushing himself away, but in doing so, he falls backward since his chair is not meant to be leaned like that.

He crashes to the ground with a swear, closing his eyes at the impact. The back of his head stings a little, as Danny slowly cracks open his eyes and stares upwards- at...a man in a bat suit?

"Moby Dick! Are you Batman!" He gasps, finally feeling like they are about to make a step forward in their mission.

The man glares down at him before grunting. "Red Robin. Retreat to cave."

"But-"

"Now"

Then he throws a smoke bomb on the ground. Danny leaps up, but both men are gone by the time the smoke clears. "Wait! Mr. Batman, sir, I need to talk to you!"

There is no reply, just the girls filming with their phones and the sound of speeding cars. Danny kicks the ground. "Oh come on!"

When he wanders home, he finds Dan lying face down on the ground with various ice cream tubs surrounding him. On some pieces of paper are various-sized hearts, the initials "DF + KC" inside them.

Dan is singing heartbreak sounds into the carpet, muffled by his tears.

"Dan, man, have some dignity. You knew the EverBurning for like ten minutes."

The muffled crying gets louder, and Danny rolls his eyes. He slumps onto the couch with a sigh. "Listen, I think I got a lead on Batman. It's a man dressed like a bat. How hard can it be to find him?"

His clone-turn-twin raises one hand, pointing to a smashed button Danny missed when entering the living room. Upon closer inspection, he is startled to find out that it's a miniature microphone and tracker. There is a very tiny symbol on the side.

"Did Red Robin bug our house after breaking our window!?" he asks in outrage as Dan nods. "To think I flirted with him!"

Dan sobs louder. "I tried flirting with the best tail I have ever seen in my life and you got a date with a stalker! We're going to die alone!"

Danny really hopes they finish this stupid mission soon. He's getting tempted to let Clockwork's bomb take him.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #fashion for passion #Part 5 #Dan is in the trenches #He found the bug after cleaning the glass #Bruce interrupted Tim's date #Danny unknowingly looking mind numbing hot

[byuntrash101]

damnation of a saint (teaser)

pairing — nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating — smut | mdni

wc — ~13k (teaser is 1.2k)

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

release date — OUT!!! LINK HERE

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not described), also reader is the embodiment of purity and selflessness, 20240127 hwa (will to power d1 in seoul), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, tensionnnnn, sooo much teasing, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity = teasing + begging + mind breaking, some light impact play, breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim and more to be revealed in the full version <3

a/n: consider this teaser as the moodboard of the fic <3 also im so excited to be reworking on my fave fic ever. hope you enjoy it too <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step.  “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat” 

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results.  Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one” 

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying. 

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Mhm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud.

a/n: tell me if you wanna be tagged through comments or through asks <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

#seonghwa smut #ateez smut #seonghwa #park seonghwa #ateez #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa hard thoughts #seonghwa hard hours #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #mingi #wooyoung #kpop smut #smut fanfiction #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts

[heartcereql]

tommy shelby x finn's teacher!reader

when you first read his name on the class list, you freezed, a shiver running down your spine. of course you weren't oblivious as to who the shelbys were or what they did. but he was so young. twelve. you actually had a tiny bit of hope that finn shelby would be different than his brothers were. you were soon proven wrong.

finn and what he called "his boys" soon started doing their business around the school, and, before you knew it, inside the school as well. bringing cigarettes, picking on younger students, terrorizing girls...

you had had enough. it was one thing for adults to get their hands dirty doing whatever businesses. but a kid? hell no. and while you couldn’t do anything about what they did outside school, you could try to correct their behaviour in school.

so that's how you found yourself one grey and cloudy evening in front of the shelbys' door, mustering the courage to knock.

you knocked three times. nothing. as you were about to knock again, you heard the lock and then the door opened, revealing a man with the same ocean eyes as finn.

thomas shelby.

you knew him, naturally, but this was the first time he was so close, let alone about to talk to you.

“good afternoon” you greeted as you tried to ignore the way your chest was tightening.

“afternoon. may i help you?” he asked, hand resting on the doorknob.

“yes, actually. i’m y/n y/l/n. i’m finn’s teacher, and i wanted to discuss certain behaviours of his with you" you explained firmly. “if that’s okay” you added in a mumble.

he just stared at you for an instant. an instant that felt like eternity to you. then he nodded, letting you come into the house.

he led you through the betting house to his office.

he sat on his chair; you took your place on the other side of the desk.

“so” he said, pulling out a cigarette, “is he getting in a lot of trouble, eh?”

you smiled timidly, admiring his sharp features.

"more like he's the one creating the trouble." you watched as tommy lit his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke before resuming. "he and his presumed gang sometimes drink beers or smoke cigarettes, torment some younger kids maybe. mr shelby, i understand that he spends a lot of time at the cut, and that ... um, that..." you were suddenly at a loss of words. you didn't want to say it, but that's how you felt it: he had grown up in a similar environment.

thomas smirked, knowing your thoughts. he knew what your mind instinctively told you. but he didn't feel enraged. quite the opposite, your concern seemed genuine, and you looked like a lovely young woman; even if your thoughts were a bit tainted by the reputation that preceeded him, he knew you meant no harm.

he also took a moment to admire how off place you looked there. your clothes were rose golden, which seemed to accentuate the soft aura that surrounded you. even with the dim lights and the greyish ambience of the office, your skin appeared to glimmer.

"i guess i'm okay with whatever he does outside school, that's what i'm trying to say. but as of late, finn and his boys have been taking their businesses around the school area. and that is of my concern. we can not afford to have children intimidated, girls harassed; hell, if a child were to try substances because of your brother and his friends, and the parents found out, we could be- the school could be sued and-"

"miss y/l/n" tommy interrupted your ramble.

"y/n." you corrected, offering a smile. "please, no one calls me miss y/n/l; it would feel weird"

"i see then. y/n" you tried not to feel butterflies tingling on your stomach as your name rolled off his tongue. he smiled as well, more to himself than to you.

"finn is his own man now" tommy continued. "i will talk to him about this, but i can not guarantee that he will do as he is told. truth is, i don't have much power over him now."

he took another drag of the cigarette, eyes finding yours through the smoke.

"what do you mean? i'm sure there's something you can do"

"not really, much to my displeasure. i assure you, y/n, that i will do what i can to correct finn's behaviour at school. he used to want to be like me, y'know? but now he's... he's him. "

"i don't think that's entirely true. you know, one of the only assignments finn turned in this semester was an essay about the person they admired most. not only finn excelled in the task, handing a beautiful composition, well structured and showing a wide range of vocabulary; but the essay was about you, mr shelby. it professed how he wanted nothing but to be like 'his brother tommy'. he truly looks up to you. he still does, mr shelby. so, i think you will succeed at getting him to change his mind."

now it was tommy who seemed to have run out of words, only inhaling from his cigarette. his eyes studied you meticulously. how your eyes fluttered around the room, unable to settle, refusing to meet his; how you clutched your hands in your lap; how your chest rose and fell as you breathed.

“i’ll give it a try, eh?” he finally spoke.

a smile lit your face.

"wonderful. well, thank you for your time, mr shelby", you showed him your appreciation to him listening to you as you stood up.

"tommy"

"what?" you asked, genuinely confused; you thought you hadn't heard correctly.

"if i am to call you y/n, it is only fair for you to call me tommy. i suppose" he stated. though he refused to look directly at you, a smile was tugging at his lips.

"very well, then. thank you for having me this evening, tommy" you offered a tight-lipped smile.

he just gave you a curt nod, taking another drag of the cigarette. you smoothed some wrinkles on your clothes and, after giving him one last grin, you made your way to the door, ready to leave.

"wait" he uttered, his voice low, as if he was rethinking his decision.

you turned to him, hand resting on the frame of the door.

"would you- maybe, consider going for a drink with me?" he hadn't looked at you as he posed the question; but his gaze locked with yours when he was expecting your answer.

you felt heat creep up your neck and cheeks, praying to whoever was listening that he didn't notice.

"only if you stay true to your word, tommy" you responded before heading out, smiling like a fool when you were finally out of sight.

© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

#heartcereql #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy

[reverie-starlight]

{peace - atsumu}

would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

putting this down as fem!reader, only because there are some specific nicknames I wanted to use (pretty girl, sweet girl, etc) no physical descriptions though!!

very soft fluff, like disgustingly soft. this is loosely based on one of my absolute favourite songs <3

“I feel so safe with you…” you mumble one night while resting against his chest.

it’s been a busy evening- going to one of his games and then to your work party immediately after. needless to say, the both of you are very tired. so tired that when you got home an hour ago, just past midnight. he had to help you get your pyjamas on and drag you to the bathroom before you flopped into bed and cuddled close to one another. you’ve been recharging with each other and focusing on some quality time you missed out on during the day.

atsumu feels his heart squeeze at the sound of your sleepy voice, soft and quiet and matching the persona you often take on when you’re exhausted.

he sighs in content and strokes the cheek not pressed against his chest with his thumb. slow and gentle. “yeah, pretty girl?”

you nod a little, nuzzling further into his skin. “you’re so peaceful.”

he freezes a little out of pure shock.

atsumu has never considered himself a peaceful person.

he’s seen his fans online lovingly describe him as chaotic, heard his teammates refer to him as energetic and sometimes hard to keep up with. he’s gotten abrasive, overexcited, intense… and what’s more, the lifestyle that comes with being a pro athlete is anything less than peaceful to begin with.

he still doesn’t see those as inherently bad qualities, even now that he’s older and doesn’t let his ego run the show anymore.

however he’s got it stuck in his mind that he could never give you peace. would it be enough for you? would you stay with him ten years down the line, even with all the flaws that he believes he is? he’s not easy to love, he knows it, but is he enough to make you stay?

and then sometimes you say things like that, making him question everything, things that change his own perception of himself.

“peaceful, huh? weren’t ya running your mouth this morning calling me a freak for putting my milk in before my cereal?” he tries to joke.

you giggle a little and he holds you tighter out of adoration. “well you still are, but you’re also very peaceful.”

he’s silent for a moment but he can’t help but ask, “how do ya figure?”

you do your best to word it properly. he loves the way your face scrunches up as you think of what to say. “I always feel so calm around you. more calm than I’ve ever felt around anyone else. and so extremely safe. I can be myself with you and I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re around because I know you’ll be there to help me if something does happen.”

he doesn’t know what to say, but you solve that issue for the both of you with what you say next.

“you offer me a special type of peace I didn’t think was possible, ‘tsum. you’re my angel.”

you make it seem so simple, like there’s nothing in the world that could ever dispute it.

he can’t stop his eyes from welling with tears. he’s always been an emotional person- he knows, he’s been berated for it since childhood, both teased and defended against others by osamu for it. he wears his heart on his sleeve and it wasn’t until meeting you that he considered it an admirable quality. he feels things deeply, and this hits him deeper than anything else ever has.

but you’re just as emotional as he is, so when you look up and notice him trying not to cry, you immediately tear up too. “don’t cry,” you sniffle, trying to wipe his tears while a few run down your own face. “I love you so much, atsumu.”

he sniffles as well, voice thick and full of love. “I love you, too, baby. how’d I end up with such a sweet girl, huh?”

you shake your head. “I’m not, I’m just telling the truth.”

he laughs through his tears. “and being sweet while doin’ it.”

he presses kisses to your forehead, mumbling small thank you’s against your skin. “for the record, I feel the exact same about you. my angel.”

you crawl up a bit so you could be face to face with him. you kiss him properly and taste the saltiness of your mixed tears.

“I didn’t think I could ever offer that to anyone. I’m not used to hearing it, so I stopped believin’ it.”

your heart breaks a little but you’re quick to reassure him. “well believe me. you offer me more than I deserve.”

“that’s not true,” he’s always so quick to defend you. “you deserve way more than I could ever give you.”

you smile a little bashfully and then pull a face he recognizes as the one you make when you’re trying not to yawn. “alright, sweetheart, we should get some sleep.”

he strokes your cheek and gently rolls you off of him so your head rests against your pillow. he chuckles when you immediately choose to rest it against his chest again instead. he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the top of your head.

you listen to his heartbeat and drift off. your breathing evens out almost immediately and atsumu thinks back to a time when you used to struggle to sleep around him.

he smiles to himself, wiping the last of his tears and whispers something you just barely manage to catch before sleep fully pulls you under.

“sweet dreams, baby. I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

peace is one of my favourite songs ever, I very much relate to it. and I think atsumu would too. I wrote this at like 1 am so if there’s mistakes, or if it seems very all over the place, blame it on sleep deprivation and devastating brain rot for the boy </3

hope you enjoyed :)

some tags :3

@emmyrosee @dira333 @luvring

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader fluff #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff

[harrysloveboat]

John B’s Girl | PT. 2

Read Part 1 here.

Summary: John B comes face to face with the ugly truth and reacts in the most expected way. JJ can’t hold back anymore, willing to risk it all for one person. All the while (Y/N) deals with the consequences of her choices.

Word Count: 27.5K, (18+, Minors DNI, Mature Audience)

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, soft!dom JJ, DARK!JJ, fluff, choking, subspace, clit play, degrading, slight daddy kink, slight mention of anal, physical fight, very minor mention of abuse, blood play, biting (just once), a little thigh riding, JJxCameron!Reader, JohnBxCameron!Reader etc.

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, I accidentally took this one shot farther than intended and my life got in the way while writing so it was delayed😭

I hope you guys enjoy it and that it was worth the wait! I was also listening to Chris Briney’s playlist while writing parts of it so feel free to play that while reading🙈 pt.3 coming soon, comment on the taglist if you’d like to know when it comes out❤️

JJ’s mind was reeling as he departed the van with a quick tug of his shorts and a clasp of the button.

He had stepped on his red hat when jumping out, mindlessly dusting the sand off of it without a care as his legs led him back to the fire pit. JJ was simply going through the motions, doing his best to ignore the way the fabric of his boxers dragged against his softening member. He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip, tasting the remnants of her sweet peak. The hat was placed on backwards to cover his tousled hair from view. He could still feel her on every indention and arch of his toned body. Believing one time would truly satiate his need for (Y/N) was a complete joke.

It was a cruel and ridiculous notion.

If anything, that’s all he could think about now. A small taste wasn’t enough, he wanted to suffocate between her legs and leave her quaking. Fuck her mouth until she had pretty tears streaming down her cheeks and saliva dribbling down her chin. Make her scream his name until she went mute. JJ had half a mind to turn around and act on impulse before Kie’s curly hair popped into his frame and refrained him from completing his body’s request. She was wearing a frown, brown eyes searching behind JJ while speaking. “Hey J. John B’s been looking for (Y/N) for a while apparently. You seen her?”

Yeah, I was fucking her in the van.

JJ let out a small breath at his thoughts, shaking his head innocently. “Nope. No clue,” he lied knowing she was probably still recuperating in the van. But he played the part so perfectly, feigning worry to mirror her state. His ocean blue eyes aimlessly flickered through the crowd without actually zoning in on anyone. “Does JB have any clue where she is?” It was hard to contain the mixture of emotions he felt for his best friend at the moment.

On one hand, John B taken it too far involving an unwilling JJ into his cruel game. Using him to get his revenge on (Y/N) and getting off on forcing him to watch something he was forbidden from claiming. On the other hand, John B’s initial reservations about their behavior was proven more than accurate by the fact that his girlfriend was most likely getting dressed in the Twinkie after JJ had just gotten done railing into her.

“You guys find her yet?” Pope’s intrusion at his right side brought him back to the conversation at hand. Kie sighed, genuinely growing more worried as time passed. “No.. I mean, it’s not like she could’ve went far? She came with us and I doubt she’d leave with Rafe without telling us,” Kie crossed her arms over her chest faintly recalling the oldest Cameron hanging out with Topper a while ago but (Y/N) wouldn’t have just left with him. Things between the two siblings had been tense for a while now with her dating a Pogue. “Well I just saw him flirting with some poor Touron so that’s not even an option,” Pope’s confirmation was layered with disgust not able to imagine what poor girl would fall for his antics.

John B appearing out of thin air from the crowd was what really made JJ zone in fully.

Neither of them had to say a word for the air to grow tense. John B hadn’t really taken the time to watch JJ’s reaction when (Y/N) unraveled in front of him, but it was easy to guess that his best friend had caught on. The fact that JJ didn’t seem as worried as the others fed into the foreboding dread he was trying to pretend wasn’t there. They turned into two alpha males fighting over territory the second they made eye contact. Standing proud with chests puffed up, oozing testosterone into a suddenly hostile setting.

“Lost your girl JB?”

He didn’t have to poke the bear but JJ is simply a victim of his true nature.

After all, it was John B who chose to start this. How could he be blamed?

The smirk that played on his otherwise innocent features sent John B into a spiral. His hand would form a fist and then loosen, only to repeat. The unspoken words JJ was attempting to convey were being understood perfectly. Kie looked between them, becoming aware of the undeniable tension swelling in the air. A lid was about to blow off and Kie wasn’t sure if it would be John B or JJ to lose it first. Pope was as oblivious as ever, checking his phone to send (Y/N) another text.

“I saw her for a little bit.”

John B’s teeth gritted as he took a step forward. The implications the blonde haired boy was making was only triggering the residual jealousy inside of him. He would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his girlfriends eyes when JJ demanded her attention. It was like a punch to the kidney remembering the pause she took when being introduced to him. John B wasn’t one to normally struggle with his worth, but it was too easy to assume that things might’ve turned out different if JJ had been the one who got the job with Ward Cameron instead of him.

“I’m picking up some weird vibes..,” Kie interrupted with a tentative tone, eyes flickering between the two.

John B was a giddy kid on Christmas morning watching the two girls mingle on the boat. (Y/N) Cameron was actually sitting on the H.M.S. Pogue in a sexy little one piece bikini talking to his friends. And she was dating him.

“JJ’s not gonna like her.”

“JJ has to like her.”

“Yeah but he’s not going to.”

“You’re killing my mood Pope.”

“She’s the Kook Princess for fucks sake.”

“If you’re cussing that means you’re really mad,” John B was partially teasing. Pope was hitting too close to home without realizing it. JJ’s been his best friend since the third grade. Everything significant that ever happened to JB always made its way back to JJ. Anytime he skipped school, JJ was the one who led the charge. Any idea or scheme, good or bad, was brought up between the two before anyone else. Hell even the grinded herbs spilled on the floor of his guest bedroom belonged to none other than his partner in crime.

JJ not liking his girlfriend because she was a Kook just wasn’t an option.

Pope rolled his eyes while carrying the cooler (Y/N) and Kie had packed off the deck. “I get ignored but I’m always right,” he mistook his friend’s carefree attitude for confidence. There was just no way Pope wasn’t going to be right about this. There wasn’t a walking Kook on Outer Banks that didn’t receive the bad end of one of JJ’s stink eyes or his colorful language. The Kook Princess and her knight and shining armor at the time, Topper, were the main topic of many drunk rants about social inequality.

John B pensively knocked against the wooden railing with his beer can, accepting Pope’s prediction. “Okay well- we can always leave them stranded so they can work their shit out,” John B threw up a solution to the mix. Pope dropped the cooler before giving him a pointed look. “It’s truly scary how quickly you came up with that,” he was a little impressed and frightened at the same time.

Pope’s gaze moved behind him, heavy footsteps giving way to the queasiness that came with jitters. “Fishin’ for some drum today boys?” JJ’s chipper voice put an end to their discussion and forced fake smiles. Pope began undoing the rope tying them to the dock with a quick nod. John B didn’t have time to react with his special guest already making her way towards the cooler that Pope had brought on board. The time he thought he had to come up with a plan disappeared. Kie scrambled up at his arrival to help diffuse any situation that might unfold while John B shifted to face his girlfriend and best friend. “(Y/N) this is the last member of the Pogues, JJ Maybank. JJ, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N) Cameron. Thought she could come with us today,” he introduced them formally.

The rest just seemed to happen in slow motion.

His blue eyes landed on her, hair at the end of her ponytail drifting towards her left shoulder with the gust of wind. Cheeks flushed with a light shade of pink that JJ didn’t know the name of, but found himself suddenly wanting to. She reached up to lift her designer sunglasses from the brim of her nose to the top of her head. He swallowed hard, caught off guard by the gleam in her eyes that matched the magnitude of the suns’. Her glossy lips were moisturized by some chapstick JJ needed to know the flavor of. The bikini was black, with two openings at the side and simple spaghetti straps that only put emphasis on her chest. Every alluring inch of tanned skin was prompting him towards her.

The only time she ever really crossed his path was during a tussle with Topper or Rafe. He never really had the time or interest in concentrating on the Kook Princess.

Which in reality made a lot of sense to JJ.

Because he felt like he was actually seeing her for the first time. Like he didn’t even know who she was until now.

“Nice to properly meet you JJ, I- uhm..- I brought some beer over,” and it was the pause in her sweet voice that really sealed the deal.

(Y/N)’s field of vision was consumed by JJ. His muscular arms in the sleeveless gray t-shirt were shimmering with sweat. The cotton fabric hung low exposing the defined lines of his collarbones. The sun lit up the sapphire color in his eyes and sharpness of his jawline. And normally, normally, (Y/N) had a hatred for baseball caps. The way they ruined your hair after wearing them for too long. Or how the little hole in the back never sat just right with her ponytail. But today? Her entire perspective changed on them as she caught sight of the singular loose strand of hair falling onto JJ’s forehead. The red hat was facing the opposite way, blonde locks poking out under the sides of it. For heaven sakes JJ had a damn toothpick snug between his lips.

How could she not be thrown off by him? He was the epitome of a bad boy that would probably be haunting her dark dreams in the upcoming future.

“I didn’t know Kook Princesses knew that beers existed.”

With his playfulness, the stress in their surroundings dissolved.

A quiet snort on her end and his boots landing on the boat was the end of it. The big explosion they’d prepared for amounted to nothing more than a shared beverage and banter that was borderline flirtatious.

“Well… that could’ve gone way worse,” Pope noted from John B’s side.

In retrospect, it did go way worse.

“Everything okay?” (Y/N) called out to them from where she was making her way up to the huddled group preventing the storm that was brewing from unleashing. Her breathing was still uneven, fingers fiddling nervously with the shiny cross necklace at her neck. The vibrator still made it difficult to walk with the way it would slide inside of her restricting her from forgetting about the incident in the van but she was satiated for now. Able to process other thoughts than just JJ. Guilt was at the forefront of her conflicted emotions. Everybody but John B and JJ looked at her. They heard her but they hadn’t even broken their stand-off to acknowledge her presence.

Kie shot her head around to (Y/N) exhaling a sigh of relief since she appeared uninjured. But at a second glance, she noted the tangled mess of hair that had been miserably patted down and ran through. The subtle rise and fall of her chest to finish catching her breath. The crimson color painted on her cheeks that ran down her neck to her shoulders.

“Everything’s great now. JB was lookin’ for ya and I was just telling him that I’d ran into you,” JJ’s smirk widened. He was just having too much fun playing into the obvious suspicion that danced in John B’s brown eyes. It was hard to not want to blurt it out right then and there, that his little game hadn’t worked out the way he intended it to. The bittersweet moment that would eventually come when John B pulls the vibrator out was enough motivation to keep his mouth shut. A side of JJ he wasn’t aware of was coming out for vengeance.

(Y/N) had to physically stop herself from jabbing her elbow into JJ’s side. She wanted to come clean, tell John B the truth even if it would be devastatingly difficult to remedy. She owed him that now. “Yeah, by the fire pit. When I wasn’t feeling well. I had to get some fresh air,” it was sort of the truth. (Y/N) couldn’t pick this moment in front of everyone to be honest. She just wanted to make sure that he found out through her and not by opening JJ’s present.

“Mhm,” JJ hummed digging his fists into his pockets. It was her lie that bled false hope into John B as he finally broke with a peek her way. She was staring at him, silently pleading to back off with her big doe eyes. JJ couldn’t blame him for relaxing with one look her way, she had the same affect on him.

Pope adjusted his flannel with a heavy breath. “Well I don’t know about you guys, but that was a lot for one night. I’m ready to go to bed. And Pops ran me down dry today,” his body was still sore from all the deliveries and inventory he had done at the shop earlier. It was indeed getting a little late for all of them now. There was a good amount of liquor in their systems so calling it a night wasn’t a bad idea. Kie was still feeling unconvinced though. Nothing that was being said was wrong but it was the way it was being said. The heavy emotion that weighed the trio down. And of course, JJ was acting far too odd and smug.

“It was a lot for one night, huh?” JJ’s head whipped around to her then. He was so obviously referring to the fact he had busted a weeks load, who was he kidding, a months load of frustration into her. (Y/N)’s knuckles turned white around the chain feeling the way JJ peered down the front of her body and stopped at the end of her dress. Her body would be undeniably hot if anyone was to touch it at this very instant. “Yeah, we should get home,” her voice was shaky as she stepped toward John B, outstretching her free hand to him and rewarding JJ’s audacity without a glance over.

He wound his fingers around hers, letting her be the one to calm him down and wash the anger away. He didn’t bother looking at JJ again as they began walking because he’s afraid he might punch the stupid smirk off his face if he does. (Y/N) had accidentally already done that for him by taking John B’s hand.

“I tried-,” John B squeezed her hand lowering his voice as they walked a few steps ahead of their friends, “getting your attention.”

The vibrating noise the toy made against the metal flooring of the van echoed in her ears.

“Do you hear that? John B’s turning up the vibrator while you’re getting stuffed with his best friends cock.”

(Y/N) jumped out of her skin at the mention of the device. She cursed whatever higher power had led John B to making this purchase. Her skin crawled with the flashback it brought on. She was even angrier at herself for still being turned on by the way JJ had fucked her into utter submission. If she’d been in her right mind, she would’ve taken it out and wiped herself clean. But JJ had left her dazed. Perplexed by the intensity of pleasure and shame from not feeling guiltier than she should.

“I turned it off.”

“You.. turned it off?” John B repeated, shock evident on his features. There was never an actual contract between them with a set list of rules or anything but they were dabbling in punishment and handing over control so it didn’t make any sense to him. Why would she do that knowing what would ensue? It crossed his mind that it could’ve been because he took it too far moments before she vanished. He wasn’t dumb enough to ignore that it had been careless of him to push her like that in front of JJ. He felt a little bad about how inconsiderate it had been to do that as they reached the van. John B didn’t say another word as he furrowed his eyebrows and looked ahead.

There was an odd white tint on the windows leftover from their indiscretion. Like the kind caused by fog that dried up. The smell inside wasn’t any better. Some of it escaped with all the doors opening but it was still present when the engine switched on. Kie and Pope were scrunching up their noses as (Y/N) sunk into her seat, head resting against the window wishing she could become one with the car door. Her heart beat a little quicker as she inhaled the sweat and aroma of sex.

If anybody deciphered exactly what it was, they chose not to mention it.

But it enveloped (Y/N). Hugged her tight and flooded her with what were now sinful memories. Shutting her eyes, her fingertips skimmed across the top of her thigh timidly, the one where JJ had left a hand impression on the side. It sent chills through her body to relive the way his face dug into her. Her thighs retreating into one another as she pictured the almost black eyes watching her come apart under him. If anything served as the biggest reminder, it was the vibrator neatly tucking in JJ’s cum into her squirming body. Her hand moved upwards to pull her hair to one side and squeeze the back of her neck in an effort to calm herself. It was a mistake, a huge mistake to tilt her head back. Because the tormentor of her daydream was already burning holes into her.

JJ could see the lust flash through her eyes. Even from the backseat he could feel the heat emanating towards him. Watching her felt different now. He wasn’t getting a glimpse of her inappropriate thoughts, he was reading them. Observing how they popped up with every touch of her hand. Seeing the sweaty skin displayed by her bare shoulder firsthand and the hint of a darkening bruise that would be visible to those in the backseat if she moved her hair another inch. His fingers itched to replace hers. Going mad with the realization that she was thinking about him. It was his name she had been screaming earlier. The cause of her affliction was JJ this time. His chest was moving a little quicker now that her eyes were confirming what JJ suspected. His hand shifted downwards to tug on his shorts and fix them before his hardening dick became obvious.

“Guys I know this is technically John B’s van, but can you minimize the intimacy in the van. It reeks,” Pope waved his hand in front of his nose dramatically while requesting that one of the two in the front rolled the window down. They had almost managed to get away with it when Pope just had to go and open his mouth about it.

The curve of JJ’s lip tilted upwards as Kie delivered a detrimental blow to Pope’s arm. She was already suspecting something and with the silence in the van intriguing her further, Pope making this type of comment was just unnecessary. (Y/N) couldn’t look at JJ’s triumphant expression for another second longer though.

John B gave a very short and curt, half hearted laugh, hands tightening around the wheel. His chest felt a little tight. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember when the last time they’d had sex in the Twinkie was. It definitely wasn’t recent enough for it to linger this way and it definitely hadn’t been present earlier. Anger flared within him while trying to remain blissfully ignorant as to the obvious signs in front of him.

The eerie quietness for the rest of the ride was only made bearable by the music playing on the radio. Everyone was too distracted in their own thoughts, exchanging wary glances back and forth. Even JJ found John B scowling over at him quite often, but he simply kept his eyes on (Y/N).

The van coming to a stop awoken everyone out of their distractions. John B was the first one out, walking with purpose to get to (Y/N)’s door and reaching it before she could even lift her hand to the handle. Pope left the back first, talking about the leftover cereal from (Y/N)’s little shopping trip he just needed to eat before bed. Kie began to exit, slowing down when she noticed that JJ wasn’t moving at all from where he was sat. If she took her time, she’d be able to catch him by himself and ask him what the fuck was going on.

Her plan seemed to work pretty well considering John B gripped onto (Y/N)’s wrist to pull her inside not paying any mind to the others. The constant loop of emotions was only infuriating him more. The car ride felt hours long, giving him time to envision several scenarios of what might’ve happened. Trying to get rid of those images was proving to be more difficult. He didn’t even realize how upset he actually was until they reached the front door and (Y/N) wiggled her wrist in his grasp. “It hurts,” she was nervous, not because of him but because of the conversation that awaited.

John B eased up on her a fraction of a second after she spoke. He didn’t bother looking back though, boosting (Y/N)’s nerves. “John B,” she tried quietly as he urged them through the living room, through the hallway, and into his bedroom. She could faintly hear Pope rummaging through the cabinets before his bedroom door was opening. Her pulse quickened, the panic bubbling inside of her. But he was unwavering. Setting off an attack of anxiety-fueled nausea through her. Every rushed movement was beckoning her closer to her confession. He wasn’t letting her get a word out, shutting the door behind them. “John B,” he ignored her, urging them over to sit (Y/N) down on the bed.

“Why’d you turn it off?.. When did you turn it off? Where?.. It’s still inside you though, right?” He didn’t actually expect a response to the extensive questions he was throwing her way. He was moving too rapidly to give her time to answer them. John B didn’t even know if he actually wanted to hear what she had to say. He grabbed the hem of his shirt to rip it off. His lips were set in a fine line, overlooking the tears swelling in her eyes as his knees met the wooden floorboards.

(Y/N) made a steadfast attempt to keep herself covered but his hand boldly flung the dress up. There was both anger and lust etched in his expression. His hands grabbed onto her knees, lunging them to opposite sides with eyes glued to one place and one place only. A choked noise left her lips at the direction he was going towards.

“We need to talk,” the dreaded words every man loathed hearing. He focused in on the sight of the red lace that had a slight bump over it where the vibrator was located. The discussion she wanted to have was the last thing on his mind right now. He chose to exist in the expectation of how this night was supposed to go rather than the reality.

“I don’t want to talk right (Y/N),” he insisted. Her cheeks felt wet and palms clammy. Lungs constricting in a frightening way with a heavy chest as she stumbled through finding the courage to spit it out. All the while he moved at too rapid of a pace for her to process. Attempting to close her thighs went horribly wrong, his hand flying over to keep them from closing.

It was purely on instinct. But unbeknownst to John B, his hand covered up the bruise left by his best friend. She winced from the pain, fingers twisting around the edge of the bed. His hand moved from there to the hem of her panties, snapping them to the side.

“John B stop,” her pleading went unheard due to the ringing in his ears. His fingers latched onto the end of it and began to pull it out.

The air escaped her lungs.

Her hand flung out to swat at his hand but his brawn was no match.

“John B- JJ and I-,” despite her cry, it was too late.

It felt like everything in the planet and beyond became deadly silent.

A pin could drop and you’d hear it in Australia.

He only managed to get it out halfway before the milky white substance was seeping out from the sides.

The next millisecond was the longest John B had ever experienced. His face went pale. There was no way for her to explain herself out of this one. The sight was so distinct. It was so obviously cum that didn’t belong to him. Every stress-filled interaction crashed together inside him in a long-awaited train wreck. The way his throat would dry when JJ would go silent into a trance upon (Y/N)’s bubbly entrance. His blue eyes would get just a little brighter at her goofiness and matching banter. Her laugh would be just a smidgen higher when he did his very JJ things. She’d melt whenever he would sweetly request something of her, in a way that was supposed to have been a joke from both sides. However, the punchline to the joke seemed to be him.

In the millisecond that followed, John B lurched away from her like she had caught fire. The feeling of disgust was a harsh contrast to what he was feeling before. The woman before him was one he didn’t recognize any longer. It couldn’t be his (Y/N) sitting on the edge of his bed. No. That girl loved him. That girl would’ve never done something like this. A sound was made as the sex toy fell out the rest of the way reminding him that she indeed had. His blood boiled with rage. The edge of the panty line snapping back and startling her out of her anguish.

“John B I’m so sorry-,”

“Are you fucking serious?” He seethed watching as she jumped up from the bed, tears falling down her cheeks while struggling to catch a breath. But he pulled back from her letting his anger fuel the desire to see her vanish from his vicinity. “Don’t fucking touch me,” his voice boomed out, making her flinch away from him. She’d never seen him this furious before. It was her fault though. She deserved his reaction.

John B didn’t need to ask who was to blame because he already knew the answer to that question. Even with his name falling from her lips moments as he took it out, the clear image of a smirking JJ from the Boneyard asking if he had lost her made him lose it. His best friend was to be held just as responsible. Before he could properly process what he was doing, the door swung open with determination. The sound it made as it hit the wall echoed throughout the house alarming everyone and undoubtedly leaving a doorknob sized hole in its wake.

(Y/N) chased after him, knowing exactly who he was looking for. “No John B,” she called out after him, sprinting to catch up to him. Even though he just looked like he was walking, his speed was astonishing. His head scanned around the empty kitchen and then the living room where Kie was bouncing up from the couch with wide eyes. “What’s wrong? What’re you looking for?” she asked exasperatedly, quickly reaching the conclusion that John B was fuming. There would be steam coming out of his ears if that was actually possible.

“Where’s JJ- I’m gonna kill him,” John B stated without hesitation as the toilet flushed from down the hallway. Before John B could get to it, (Y/N)’s palms were pushing back at his rock hard chest, muscles tight from rage.

“John B stop- this is my fault. It’s mine, nobody else’s but mine,” (Y/N) could barely keep in the sob as John B reacted quickly, moving away from her once again. His eyes were dark and empty, face completely emotionless except for the red hot anger. The sight of him becoming physically ill from her touch shattered her into pieces. Her body was shaking. She knew this is what would happen but nothing could’ve actually prepared her for it. Nobody warned her about what it would feel like to watch the love someone has for you drain from their face.

“I said don’t fucking touch me. Why are you even here, huh? Thought it would be fun to slum your way through Pogues?” John B’s hurled accusation was meant to hurt, meant to be offensive. He wanted her to really feel the same pain he was. He thought one day she might leave him for his best friend. Had pretended like it was his mind playing tricks on him. Never in a million years did he think this would happen. He was unable to breathe properly as he stared intently towards the opening bathroom door. He stretched his neck out to see who it was, only relaxing it back when Pope emerged from the bathroom. “What’s going on?” he gazed around at everyone having heard the door and shouting from where he was, eyes eventually honing in on the state (Y/N) was in.

John B laughed with no humor behind it and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. JJ fucked my slut of a girlfriend. My best friend fucking creampied her,” his head shook in disbelief, “He fucked her in the van while we were all looking for her,” John B’s voice was laced with venom watching as she curled in on herself without caring about how she felt. He put two and two together easily. The way she recoiled at the accusation only confirmed it, setting him off further as he took a step forward. “He did didn’t he? You opened your legs for him in the fucking Twinkie.” This was different from when he called her dirty names in the safety behind closed doors. He meant these humiliating words. Her crying was the only thing heard in the momentary silence. (Y/N) covered her chest with her arms as if to protect the imaginary physical wound that he inflicted. “Woah dude- wait, you’ve gotta chill out,” Pope moved with caution between him and (Y/N), holding his hand out to stop John B from moving any further. Not because he’d do anything, because the situation was getting too heated. He was hearing a bit too much information than needed, but if any of it was true he knew John B was on a unstoppable war path.

“Where’s JJ?” He was steady in his pursuit, unbothered by his friend who was trying to settle the situation at hand. “Jesus- He left! I talked to him outside and he left, alright?!” Kie yelled out at him, pulling his attention to the girl. “You’ve gotta calm down. Fighting him and hurting her isn’t gonna solve anything,” Kie reasoned in a slightly lower volume, but nonetheless still loud, while laying an attentive hand on his shoulder. Usually it was (Y/N) doing this. Asking him to cool off without speaking, just looking. It was a harsh reality to accept that she wasn’t. The disappointment to find out JJ hadn’t even made it past the front door was clear in the way his hand jerked. He swirled around on his feet to face (Y/N) again, looking past Pope.

“Get out.”

“John B, please let me talk to you.” Her voice was horse from all the crying. It was without a doubt asking for too much to have a civil conversation with John B right now. But her heart was squeezing in her chest and she couldn’t bare the thought of leaving things like this. Her mind struggled to find any words that would bring him peace. There was probably none that would. She had tried to avoid this… hadn’t she? Didn’t she keep asking him to stop? Or couldn’t she have just pulled away from his hold? The fact that was even a question in her mind made her chest swell with oncoming tears.

John B stiffened up taking another step forward that landed Pope’s hand onto his chest this time. “(Y/N) get the fuck out!” The conviction in his voice made her bottom lip quiver. Kie was angry at her but it was also difficult to watch (Y/N) break down like this. Since she’d joined them, they’d been inseparable. It was nice of course to have all the boys around but there was things she could talk to (Y/N) about that she couldn’t with them. A sense of trust and friendship that had formed during girl talk. She knew there was no excuse for her friends actions, but it was still difficult to watch the fallout unfold. “I’ll take her home and then I’ll be right back,” Kie offered as she went to the couch searching for her keys figuring that would be a way she could help them both. “Kie get her out of here right fucking now,” John B’s nostrils flared not having the capacity to continue looking at (Y/N).

“She’s going man, she’s going. Let’s just go outside,” Pope tried leading him out the back while Kie smacked a pillow in frustration, wondering where she set her keys down before they left.

But it was all too much for (Y/N).

The pure disdain from John B was appropriate. The way they were referring to her in third person now, as if she’d never been a Pogue, was also fitting but it all pierced her heart. She’d lost him and the rest of her true family over what? A hook-up? Another notch on JJ’s belt? She didn’t even have a clue.

“Don’t worry,” (Y/N) grabbed her phone making her way to the door as Kie moved to stop her, “I’ll get home. Just stay with him.”

Kie called out for her in an effort to get her to rethink and wait just a few more minutes for her. But either she didn’t hear it or she chose not to.

The way the screen door slammed behind her seemed to signify the end to a lot more than what she could yet imagine or even handle.

Her legs were wobbly as she made her way down the beaten path. It took her a few minutes to gather her strength before she was able to walk away from the house without tripping over nothing. The adrenaline racing from the intensity of the fight urged her legs to move faster. She couldn’t help but punish herself by reliving every second of it. The look on John B’s face when he removed the toy made her insides churn. The image would be scarred into her memory. It seemed like every other special, beautiful moment they shared was erased from existence. She wanted to turn back time, find a million different ways to come clean that didn’t include a stupid fucking vibrator. Without even noticing, her sprint gradually tripled in speed until it turned into full fledged running and weeping down his neighborhood. A car past her by at some point but she didn’t even see it through the haze of her tears.

With time passing by faster than she noticed, she felt her chest slowing to a calmer state and cheeks drying. It was only then, when every heightened sense took an undeserved respite, that her speed lowered. Things were more visible now that it felt like she had cried every drop she physically could. It only felt like minutes in the middle of her attack, but she’d managed to make it quite a distance. The convenience store John B normally drove to when he picked up some late night cravings during her periods came into view and almost made her collapse in the process. Walking to her house from here would most likely take the whole night and (Y/N) probably could make it if she was feeling extra ballsy. But as she eyed the dimly lit street ahead and the little twenty-four hour mini-mart that threatened the shaky stability she had found, she knew tonight was not that night.

Her phone screen lit up her face, swiping up to open the device when it recognized her. (Y/N) let out a trembling breath as she made her way to her Uber app, ordering one to her current location so that she could be dropped off in Figure Eight. Once it was charged to the card her dad had opened for her, she crossed her arms over her chest. Her dad really only checked her account to re-up her money so there wasn’t a high chance of him questioning her on a late night Uber drive when she was supposed to be sleeping over at Kie’s, but even if he did see it, the argument that would ensue seemed vastly unimportant compared to everything else.

A wave of emotions risked another waterfall. In contrary to her previous belief, apparently she might never stop crying. Waiting there for the driver, all she could think about was John B. The coldness he aimed her way. He had meant every single belittling word and (Y/N) felt like it was well-deserved. She wanted to blame JJ. It would be so easy to do it considering the predicament she had been in when he followed after her. One that he had been very well aware of.

But as much as she wanted to do that, the truth was she wanted JJ in that moment. Not John B, but JJ. The look in his blue eyes when they were sitting in front of the bonfire had ignited a buried desire for him. There was actually way too many instances where she had craved JJ in the way she had him tonight. Odd moments where they were left alone for one reason or another, creating tension amongst themselves with inappropriate thoughts and stolen glances of the other. It was really her fault for not admitting it to herself sooner. All of this could’ve been avoided if she had stopped lying to herself.

The honk of the horn brought her back from her zoned out state. (Y/N) made her way into the vehicle that matched the one in the app, giving the man a weak smile. He asked her something, but her brain didn’t make sense of it. She curled up into the door similar to the way she had in the van earlier, choosing to get lost in the palm trees rather than hold a meaningless conversation with someone she’d never meet again. The silence he was met with was a clear indication that she wanted to opt out of the friendly chatter and arrive at her destination.

The driver picked up the hint, starting his drive to the address given without another hitch. Even blessing her with the grace of ignoring the faint weeping in the backseat. She was torn up inside, grieving the loss of her boyfriend while also struggling with whether she actually regretted it or not. Saying she did would just be a distasteful lie. Confronting John B over this had sent her headfirst into the veracity of her feelings.

The rest of the drive felt empty. There wasn’t a living soul out when they rode down her street. Her own house had all the lights off, it gave off an eerie looking vibe at this time of night. The driver came to a stop at her gate, letting her get off there so she could enter through the gate door next to the car entrance. Her mumbled thank you was politely acknowledged with a small wave and head bow before she exited.

The walk from the warm car through the freezing temperature of the night to the coziness of her bedroom was exhausting in her numb state. She was beyond glad no one was awake because she didn’t have the energy to deal with her dad who would pester her with questions. Or Wheezie who would try to get all up in her business for nothing other than the sake of living up to the stereotype of nosy little sisters. Rose would just put on her motherly act that seemed to bother her too much to play well so it would just end up sucking more energy from (Y/N).

And Rafe- well Rafe might be the only one that could cross her path. He wouldn’t care enough to even notice her presence. But he was most likely still at the Boneyard with the other Kooks anyways inhaling too much coke.

A relaxing bath sounded perfect right now, with some bubbles and candles. She could play one of her mellow playlists in the background. Something relaxing, not sad, because she’d be right back where she started. She didn’t know if she’d actually retrieve the candles from the second floor linen closet or even have the energy to search for her speaker but at least the bubbles she could reach from inside the bathtub. The rest she could leave up to her imagination.

Her feet dragged all the way up to the third floor, past the expensive paintings and family portraits, and to her bedroom. All of the lights in the hallway made it hard for her to see in the pitch black of her bedroom. (Y/N) preferred it that way anyways. Her back rested against the door once it shut, one hand on the doorknob still feeling like she couldn’t get a decent amount of oxygen into her lungs. Her head lifted just to bang back on the door delivering a sting to the back of her head that didn’t actually quell the emotional pain.

She was about to go into her bathroom when she saw the infamous red baseball cap on the grey chair, lined with silver around the edges, that sat in front of the window. The moonlight pouring in from the window was shining down on it like a spotlight, alerting her to the presence of the boy that seemed to be everywhere lately.

The fact that it was in such perfect view made her tilt her head slightly, not looking away from it. It was almost like he had made sure to leave it in sight so that they could bypass the obvious jump scare that would’ve occurred otherwise. Her back stood a little straighter, heart caving just the tiniest bit at the gesture.

And that’s exactly why JJ had done it. Her bloodshot eyes and lifeless expression were proof he’d been right in doing so. He had wanted to be there for her when they got out of the van, gut still twisting with the way John B had grabbed onto (Y/N). But he was aware now that he was just a coward. With no clue as to how to make it up to her. After the conversation with Kie, he’d gotten on his bike and rode away. He was supposed to go home, face Luke’s wrath about his week long disappearance since the Chateau would obviously be off limits for the foreseeable future. But the pull he felt was strong, as powerful as gravity.

That’s how JJ had ended up pacing on the other side of the wall that separated Ward Cameron and the rest of his Kook family from the outside world. He was drawn to a place he’d never stepped foot in. He’d only gotten as far as the driveway the one time he road with John B to surprise (Y/N) and pick her up for a rowdy night. They had watched her slip out of her bedroom window and proceed to climb down the enormous tree next to the roof. He’d been enamored by her that night like he was all the time, thrown off by her spontaneity. Every corner JJ turned, he found another reason to fall for this girl. It hadn’t taken him long to decide to hop it once the image of her pretty face remained too long in his imagination. The possibility that she might be a little… hostile about his intrusion didn’t dissuade him.

He’d already been there for a long time, enough to wonder if he’d made the right decision in coming. He started off with sitting down on the same seat the hat was resting on before moving towards the edge of the bed. When time kept passing, he laid down on the comfortable king sized mattress. Then he discarded his articles of clothing until he was in his boxers, not wanting to dirty the comforter. He knows she’d wave off the silliness in that but he didn’t want to taint the pristine state of her bedroom. The ridiculous amount of pillows around his body tempted him into a deep slumber but the concern at how late it was getting and her not arriving put a hold on that. JJ was even getting close to calling Kie when the door had finally opened.

The sight of her hitting her head tugged at the strings of his heart. He was appalled with himself. Feeling unworthy of even being here knowing that he had left her to handle the fallout on her own. No amount of persuading from Kie to give John B a couple of days should of been enough to stop him from greeting her at the door with his outstretched arms when she walked out. But in all honesty, it was his own decision to put off the confrontation with John B and reencounter with (Y/N) after such a heavy revelation. He wouldn’t even blame her if she never wanted to see him again.

But when her shoulders slouched as she turned towards the bed and her weary eyes acclimated to the darkness, JJ didn’t see an ounce of malice hidden in them.

“You know breaking and entering is an arrest-able offense?”

She sounded defeated as her arms found sanctuary in the slot of her back between the door. JJ sat up slightly, resting his back against the cushioned headrest. The fanciest thing he’s probably ever laid on. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. JJ had expected to be yelled at, maybe thrown an object or two, then kicked out the window or through the door depending on her generosity. Instead of accusations or bitterness, he was met with a thinly veiled playful threat. And that was a million times better than being on her bad side.

“Call the cops on me then.” It was just as much to test out the waters as it was to avoid the topic at hand. It was so painfully obvious to him that things had gone considerably worse than JJ expected when (Y/N) was choosing to engage in some light-hearted banter before he could even bring it up. Which she pretended to contemplate for a moment from where she stayed put against the door. She knew that what he said wasn’t by any means considered lewd language but just because it was JJ and JJ’s voice saying it while fully displaying his six pack under the gleam of the moonlight, her mind went a little off track.

“I knew I probably couldn’t crash at the Chateau and home just..” he didn’t have to continue it. (Y/N) had bought a full sized First Aid kit to keep on hand for whenever JJ would need to be patched up. It was safely stashed away in the bathroom closet at JB’s so that she could tend to his wounds.

(Y/N) pursed her lips fully aware that she hadn’t actually been planning on kicking him out but just the fact that his only option was going to Luke’s if she did left her with a queasy stomach. They watched one another in silence, JJ hanging on to the anticipation of waiting for her reply. When his fingers ran through his hair in an attempt to ease the stress, (Y/N) finally pushed off from the door.

“The left side of the bed is mine,” her eyes flickered to the empty right side and JJ got the hint, “I will be building a Wall of China that you cannot cross. Lock the bathroom door when you use it. The rest of the house is off limits because my dad might have a heart attack if he sees you and Wheezie’s a snitch or a blackmailer depending on her mood and what day of the week it is,” with a lock of the door, she was making her way towards the front of the bed, “Rafe would just be unpleasant to run into, and this is the most important rule so listen very closely Maybank.. If you turn my fan off, I will make sure you suffer,” bringing attention to the hum of the fan that JJ remembered had indeed been turned on this whole time.

A small amused smile played on JJ’s lips at the list of rules she gave him. He was so engrossed in her every move, still finding her beautiful even in the midst of chaos. It was easier to play this game of pretend, like nothing had happened. As if his presence in her home was somewhat normal. It certainly felt more normal than it should. “Anything else warden?” JJ teased as he scooted over on the bed. (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she came around the corner to lay her phone on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna take a bath so… leave me alone,” she smiled unenthusiastically hooking the phone up to her charger that was awaiting and keeping a cool demeanor. It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore his playful mood, JJ held an unmatched power to distract her from the reality of the situation.

“A bath, huh?”

“Yes a bath.”

“I think you should go to bed like that.”

(Y/N) paused, all too familiar with what it felt like to have his eyes digging into her by now. She knew what he was insinuating, that she should lay down with her cum soaked panties. She didn’t move her gaze away from the nightstand, legs shifting as she felt the wave of heat washing over her. She couldn’t help but curse herself internally, mad at herself for having no control over her reactions.

“I think a bath is what I need.”

“I think sleeping would be much better.”

“I think I’m right.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

Air puffed out from her lips as she turned to face him, meeting his eyes like she had expected to. He was so annoying that (Y/N) could smother him in his sleep with one of her pillows. But the mischief in his eyes was beckoning her over. Seeing as he was unwilling to back down, she figured she could wait until he fell asleep to wash off the remainder of tonight. There was no way to get past JJ when he got this stubborn, not a single word would persuade him otherwise and she knew it.

JJ smiled jubilantly when she puffed up pillows in the middle of the bed to separate them instead of continuing the back and forth. He wouldn’t deny he was mostly eager to have her close again, especially seeing as she was actually letting him stay. Every second next to her felt counted, like his minutes were almost up and he had to soak in every detail. He slid down in the bed again while she moved to the dresser, pulling out a plain, worn out t-shirt. His eyes were on her every move, being able to observe her more than he was normally able to.

(Y/N) wanted to grab a pair of pajamas, or at least pajama shorts since JJ would be sleeping over. But if there was one thing she despised, it was wearing anything other than a simple raggedy t-shirt and panties to bed. She could grab a pair of pajama shorts but she knew if he ended up staying for anything longer than a couple days she’d eventually give in to her irritating body heat and remove them. And considering the fact that JJ had already had the privilege of getting a very clear picture of her lower half naked, there was nothing left to hide.

Still though, as she approached the bed, she twirled her fingers in a circle. Just because she’d be laying down in underwear didn’t mean he needed to see her change.

“Really?” JJ asked like it was stupid to even make him turn around. His eyes moved to her chest then, becoming all too aware of the fact that he hadn’t gotten the chance to see her properly when he bent her over in the Twinkie.

“Seriously.” She didn’t move an inch until JJ, very begrudgingly might she add, faced away from her. Her hand moved to the back of her neck once she was sure that JJ couldn’t see her, undoing the straps with a quick pull. Once the dress was off her body, (Y/N) slipped on the t-shirt. She hadn’t bothered to ruin a fresh pair of panties when she knew she’d be escaping to bathe as soon as he was snoring at her side.

The bed dipped next to him when (Y/N) laid down, but he couldn’t catch a single glimpse of her past the wall of pillows. JJ sighed, glancing upwards at the glow in the dark stars that littered the ceiling. They were cute. It felt like he was getting an insight to her private life. One that he wanted to be a part of. The sleep that had fought him earlier was nowhere to be found. Not when he was in (Y/N)’s house. In her perfectly decorated room. Incapable of falling asleep in her comfy bed with a mountain of pillows when she was laying only a couple of feet from him, with a t-shirt on and his cum inside her.

“Would you stop huffing and puffing over there and just sleep already?” (Y/N) would be lying if she said that was the only thing keeping her up. She had been worried that once her head hit the pillows she would be too exhausted to stay up for a bath. Yet now that she was actually here, she couldn’t stop tossing and turning. The air felt thick enough to the point that she’d even be willing to smoke a blunt to relax. But the weed wouldn’t extinguish this tension, it would probably only heighten it.

“My bad. You’ve just got a stupid amount of pillows here and I can’t seem to catch my breath,” he shrugged his shoulders to himself, tilting back to the pesky wall. JJ found warmth under the covers but craved to get it from her body instead. He knew it was a bad idea but the temptation kept unwinding and growing. The opportunity was there, just how it had been earlier. An idea crept into his mind as he heard her shuffle around. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the comment, landing on her side that wasn’t in his direction. “And? They’re comfortable,” she explained, even though she really didn’t have to. She bent her elbow to place it under the pillow trying to find the perfect spot to relax in although it seemed to be impossible to accomplish.

JJ’s arm reached out to play with one of tags on the pillow, running it between his fingers. “It’s suffocating is what it is. And there can’t be anything comfortable about living in the North Pole,” referring to the fan hitting them directly at full blast. JJ didn’t actually mind it, he was just enjoying the teasing that was always awarded with some form of response. His fingers started tugging on the tag, focused on dismantling the first obstacle and allowing her hair to become visible.

“Well-,” (Y/N)’s witty response was halted by the small noise that suspiciously sounded like her barrier was being broken through. Her fingers lazily played with the satin sheets acting like she was unaffected. She knew exactly what he wanted but refused to give in. “I’ll make sure to remind them to tidy up your five star room in prison if you keep complaining.”

JJ chuckled, removing the second pillow with more ease now that the one above it had been tossed behind him. Her backside was in sight now, hair loose and sprawled messily above the white of her bedsheets. The t-shirt had settled into the dip of her hips, making his tongue poke out to wet his bottom lip. There was something different about being here. Something that was charging his body with electricity. “You’d never turn me in.”

“It’s never too late,” (Y/N) breathed out in a hurry as the ruffling behind her increased. Her pulse jumped anticipating JJ’s next move. It was bewildering how much he disrupted her system on a cellular level. He hadn’t even touched her and she was finding it hard to inhale normally knowing that he’d be upon her soon. It should’ve been easy to reach behind her and chastise him for breaking her rules not even 20 minutes in, but it was actually aggravatingly challenging to do so.

“You want me to-,” suddenly, without warning, his defined chest was pressing into her back, evoking a loud hitch in her breath, “grab your phone for you to call?” JJ’s fingers crawled onto the tip of her curve, softly dipping a pointer finger under the lacy fabric. Her skin felt so soft and pliant. Her body quivered under him, only invigorating him. JJ’s lowered voice was much closer to her making her ankles lock together tightly. He was attempting to distract her with his words, very well knowing that she’d never be capable of such a thing.

“JJ you can’t do that,” she completely disregarded the question now, her entire mind faltering from the way his solid chest felt against her back. Despite her protest, she didn’t lift a feather to stop him. Not even her voice was convincing. Her own heart was beating rapidly against her rib cage. They had already done this dance earlier and it had led to a huge fallout. Possibly irreparable damage. Except he was some sort of magician, that made her lose her sanity with the flick of a wand. There was no mistaking the way she got lost in the waves of blue in his eyes on the ride back to the Chateau. She had almost gotten on her knees right then and there with no care on Earth for those around them.

JJ caught on to the affect he had on her like the true devil he was. “Why?” His body flawlessly molded into the crook of her back like he’s always belonged there. Hand taking its time moving around the arch of her hip and downward to knead into the flesh in an achingly cruel way that had her head spinning. A pitiful whine was held back so that it wouldn’t fuel the desire swirling between them. But it was hard to do so when he was consuming her senses. His masculine smell bear-hugging her, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

“Because- Because John-,”

“John B isn’t here (Y/N),” JJ knew that was his best friend, but damn if he heard John B’s name one more time, “he’s already mad. What’s a second time gonna hurt?” His hand proceeded to move upwards, making a straight line up the side of her body and inching her shirt off along with it. She didn’t think her heart could palpate with anymore vigor than it was. (Y/N) was struggling to keep up the façade, JJ had already slithered his way past her pillow barrier and was doing the same to the imaginary one surrounding her. She must’ve fully warped under his spell because something logical coming from JJ couldn’t be right. “Then stop because it’s wrong,” her voice was higher pitched, waiting for the arrival of JJ’s unforgiving fingers on her breasts.

But JJ was villainous. Intent on unraveling her. He only managed to get one of her breasts to pop out, the other half of her chest still covered while his hand lifted up slightly so only the pad of his finger was tracing the outline of her side boob. There was a familiar neediness spreading inside that plagued her. She went from wanting to off him to reeling from his teasing. He refused to give in to her because she was obviously yearning for him in a similar fashion. And he’d make her admit it. Make her beg for it as many times as he pleased. “That’s not how this game works Princess,” he tsked into the space between her neck and her ear, fanning his hot breath down her heaving cleavage.

His tone was disapproving, like she should know better than that now. “The only way I’m stopping (Y/N), is if you tell me to. Tell me it would’ve made no difference which one of us found you first. Tell me right now you aren’t soaking between your legs.” JJ needed to hear it almost as much as he needed oxygen to survive. If she didn’t want him to abandon whatever was erupting between them, she needed to say it. If she didn’t want him in the same way he desperately needed, he’d get dressed, leave, and stay far away from her and John B. But he doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle that form of banishment from her life.

Luckily for him, her resolve weakened with the swipe of his tongue against her earlobe and the hidden fear making its way into his voice. She pushed the side of her face into the fluffiness of her pillow in a last ditch effort to remain passive while her body went headfirst into the sinful pleasure, pressing her bottom into his hardening length. Her breathing stuttered hearing the deep groan it illicited from him. It was instant relief for the both of them, her pussy clenching at the feel of his erection digging into her. JJ couldn’t explain how hot it was to see her fight her own bodily desire for him. “I can’t tell you that,” she barely got out. The sensual touches and intentional build up had her thighs sliding together. Breathing around him was something her body forgot how to do.

JJ’s forehead fell onto her shoulder, matching her heavy breaths now that she was confirming what he so badly wanted to hear. He grasped her exposed tit, tugging until her back was arching along with it. Incapable of refraining himself with her submitting to him. “JJ,” she gasped out feeling a pull on the back of her shirt where it was stuck under her side. “Tell me what you need then,” he commanded in the very same tone from earlier that made her vision hazy and brain foggy.

“I need you J,” her body relinquished control with a small whine, obeying his orders by lifting up slightly from the bed to remove the t-shirt. She moved to face him, wanting nothing more than to run her fingers over the surface of his toned physique, but JJ used the grip on her breast to return her to her previous position. They weren’t in a rush this time. There was no boyfriend expecting her to return. No one to answer to in the dead of night. JJ had the advantage of time and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

His crotch rutting into her once in tandem with the flick of his finger over her nipple caused her mouth to drop open and a shudder to overtake her. “That’s how much I need you (Y/N),” he moaned, making her keen while his teeth grazed her shoulder blade. Every bit of her was intoxicating, like an addicting drug he was handing over his willpower to. The temptation was too much to handle. His fingers finally skimmed to the top of her panties, sliding under the thin material with ease and urgency. (Y/N) tilted her knee upwards so that he had more space at his disposal, fully letting herself succumb to JJ.

The second his hand connected with her slick mound her long eyelashes fluttered, a deep groan paving its way out. His index and middle finger slid around her clit, putting pressure on it by pressing into the sides. His semen mixing with her arousal allowed JJ to glide his fingers up and down with ease. “Oh f-fuck,” she sputtered out arm hastily wrapping around his. JJ was more vocal this time, moaning again from the feel of her sodden pussy. It urged him to grind up against her again finding relief in the contour of her body.

JJ’s free arm snuck it’s way under her neck, curving enough to be able to reach her hardened nipple. He twisted and squeezed relentlessly until he heard her cry out from the stimulation. His lips laid open mouthed kisses around her shoulders, sucking slightly with every pause. JJ didn’t falter though, he pulled on her nipple while adding extra pressure to her clit as he continued to stroke his fingers through her velvety folds. Her strangled moans were making his hard on throb from how wrecked she already sounded. (Y/N) couldn’t put together a single thought in her head, only feel the pleasure exploding inside her like fireworks.

“Fuck you feel so good, dripping again for me. Still leaking my cum,” JJ could no longer hold back as he sunk his teeth into the same spot of her upper body that he had been abusing, biting down until there was a metallic flavor soothing his tastebuds. His tongue licked up the wound, a carnal instinct forcing him to do something he never had even imagined would turn him on. However, the action sent him onto cloud nine, a high like no other. A groan vibrating against the broken skin.

Never had somebody bit her before and yet there was an embarrassing amount of slickness added to the mess between her legs. Her mouth gaped, opening with a high pitched, “Ah”. His muscles flexed under her grip as his fingers moved with more urgency feeling the result of what his action did to her. He couldn’t explain the feeling bursting inside his chest at the fact that she glowed under his barbaric behavior. (Y/N)’s head tilted to the side where JJ met her cheek with his nose. Face contorted from the waves of pain jolting through her that were mixing in with the ones of pleasure crashing into her mercilessly.

Her legs intertwined with his, tightening around his calves in order to receive some sort of grounding through the ferocity of his actions. “You like that? Like when I use my fingers to make you feel good?” JJ purred through hooded blue eyes watching her bottom lip tremble from the pleasure. He was vicious in his assaults, having to stop her thighs from shutting with a knee into the crease of her ass. As much as he wanted to shove his fingers into her hungry cunt, he wanted to make her fall apart by just playing with the sensitive nub. “Yes, love it J, I-,” her mouth paused while open, hips jutting out as JJ quickened his pace. She wanted to tell him she wouldn’t last long but he wasn’t letting her breathe.

“Is this what you were imagining in the van? My fingers inside of you, my tongue licking every inch of your pussy?” JJ murmured making her back straighten out and hearing her wheeze when he switched to a circular motion and back. Her previous orgasms had already been so intense that she was at risk of slipping away in the ecstasy. Her toes curled around the edge of the bedsheet panting into the air. (Y/N) was fully immersed in the vehement drag of his fingers and the hot puffs of air that electrified her skin. “Stay here f’me,” it was JJ’s dominating tone mixing with one of uneasiness that lulled her out of the fog, “that’s it pretty girl. Answer my question.”

He coerced a response out of her before she could drift away from him. JJ’s fingers switching to figure eight motions as she arched her back with a particularly loud yelp of his name then returning to the previous movement before she had time to adjust. Watching her so worked up had his cock aching to find its way back into her. His precum was forming a new stain in his boxers from the intensity of their hushed words and the symphony of her fluctuating breaths and resounding moans. He wanted to sheathe himself with her cunt until she become too stupid to speak almost as much as he enjoyed watching her surrender her satisfaction to him. “All I.. All I could think about was you.”

“Fuck,” JJ cracked, steadily building up the momentum so that he was rubbing his clothed dick against her. “Bet you would’ve let me rail you in front of them- let me clean your soaked pussy and then fuck your throat dry,” he grunted finding the release he was desperate for as he slid in the slit of her ass. The sensation flooded every fiber of her being, words bringing out her kinks as confirmed by the tightening of her pussy around him. “Yes,” she admitted with watering eyes. JJ’s control was slipping, acting like a teenage boy with raging hormones as he dry humped her desperately spurred on by her confession. She was open just the perfect amount for his hard tip to probe against her tight back entrance. The fabric of the boxers between them being the only thing stopping him. Her eyes were the only thing that moved to find his darkened ones in a wary haste. By the quick lock of their gaze, her wide eyes told JJ those were uncharted waters. “I’m gonna destroy your ass next.”

All it took was the exquisite combination of an adjustment of his finger and a brush of his nose against her cheek. The lively movements of his rutting alongside the lewd promise of exploring more of her body. Another meaningful jab at her bundle of nerves and she was seeing white hot fury littered with black specks behind her eyes. “Holy fuck JJ,” she panted with a whine, losing any thought process in the climax that made her nerve endings burst. The unexpected strength she had to close her legs forced JJ’s knee from its place but his fingers didn’t lose the relentless pace. She rode out her high with sharp breathing, crying his name out through the ripples of her orgasm. Her entire body squirming during his softening pace to ease her back.

He issued an uncanny amount of praises into her ear that she was only able to hear the end of. Gulping air in chunks to feed her lungs. JJ was absolutely gone for her, his insides doing cartwheels at the sound of his name during her apex. The way her face twisted, body turning into a writhing mess, it was all thanks to his doing. (Y/N) didn’t notice him all-consumed by her, absorbing every ounce of her undoing. Her hand that wasn’t wrapped in his arm, reached over to grip his hair that had sweaty ends matted to his forehead. “Doing so. fucking. well. f’me, such a good girl,” he praised with repeated eskimo kisses to her cheek. The neglected emotions seeping out through the affectionate action were far too much to handle in the daze. She wanted to scream from the overpowering feeling.

JJ slowed his movements to give her a moment to calm down. His lips took advantage of her tilted head to curve around her jawline and press gentle kisses that made seemingly soft impressions on her skin. He had initially intended on making this an entire night thing, but it has been almost an entire night. His greediness couldn’t ignore that she almost rode off into a space he couldn’t reach her at. And that his cock was in dire risk of ceasing to exist.

When her eyes became more focused and face met his, their heads tilted to clash together. Any instructions JJ had for her became mute as she read his mind and flipped her body over without breaking the kiss. A lip-numbing, teeth clashing with need, tongue fighting kiss that took away any breath she had managed to catch. It recharged her drained energy to full power.

His hand moved to brutally squeeze at her other boob. Their bodies pushing one another back with every frenzied attempt to be closer. His head would force her to bend her neck backwards as he lifted up into her before she was leaning forward and putting him in the same position. Retreating only to catch a second of air before going back to the same. It was in the middle of the disorder that JJ was able to dislodge his boxers from his body. (Y/N) maneuvered out of the last piece of clothing that was now being unjustly held accountable for the fact that she just couldn’t get close enough. He flipped her onto her back, bleeding into the slot between her legs that he would swear was made for him.

JJ propped up onto his elbows to break the kiss, lungs in need of taking in air. She moved to chase him with her lips but he rose up higher making her head plop back down. (Y/N) let out a disgruntled noise, about to break out into hives if he didn’t get inside her. Her body was sore, close to surpassing her limit but she wanted to feel full of him. Wanted to him to use her to reach levels of pleasure that he hadn’t experienced yet. But his eyes did a soft lulling once over of her naked body, halting her pleas. Months of playful prodding at the other, lingering glances, and shyly stealing innocent touches at random times had all progressed to this day. To the moment that he could take in all of her, in every way possible.

Then he repeated it. Analyzing. Memorizing. Mulling over every detail that might seem insignificant to someone else but it was everything to him.

Now that he was above her, the only thing he was capable of doing was concentrate on every detail of her body. The curvature of her perky boobs, the dampness pooling at her core, the glossy look in her eyes. His hand moved flat down her stomach, leaving a trail of tingles behind. The way she let her body be conquered by his touch left him speechless. After spending what felt like a lifetime living in the shadow of her presence, his chest was close to caving in under the reciprocation of his emotions. “You’re gorgeous,” he spoke in disbelief that someone like her would ever let someone like him taint her innocence, but she was anything except that. (Y/N) was his sweet, filthy girl. His thumb grazed against her pelvic bone before spreading her legs onto the surface of the bed to look further down. He caught sight of her pluckered nub poking past her folds, entire vagina slippery with the arousal and cum that was everywhere from the stained sheets to her inner thighs. JJ had to physically hold back a guttural noise stopping himself before he leaned down and stuffed his entire face into her.

She gnawed on her reddened bottom lip, overwhelmed with the admiration and desire in his eyes. “J,” she pleaded softly, close to liquefying under the fortitude of his stare. It was only JJ that had her mewling, entrapping her in a bubble of fantasies and a four letter word dangerously close to spilling from her lips with just a glance. The intensity of the raw emotion was close to suffocating her. (Y/N) couldn’t take it any longer, lifting her bottom from the bed to grab his attention attempting to sway him back to the task at hand. The pressing of his knuckles on her bruised inner thigh let her know it worked. His eyes seemed to refocus on her glistening center. JJ’s hand wrapped around the hilt of his length, pumping his length over her pelvic bone. “Look at that baby- that’s how deep I’m gonna be,” he taunted, the end of solid member close to her belly button. Before she had time to react, he was swiping up her vagina to collect his cum and her juices on his head before smearing it with a downward swipe and strangled, “fuck.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s shaky voice spoke over his, an iron grip forming on the bed sheets at her sides. Her back arched as a breathless moan escaped her when he didn’t stop. Every swipe just barely teased her with the tip sliding past her folds, giving her a minuscule taste only to move away. Her hips moved to meet his but he didn’t show mercy. “So fucking messy. Look so pretty when you’re so dirty,” the corner of his lip tugged up, relishing in her undoing. Inflicting as much torture as he had felt from not being able to just grab her when he wanted to. The sloshing sound was so fowl, so lewd and vicious that it was the only thing they could hear. “Please JJ, need your cock. Need it, I need it so bad, please-.”

“Do you? Never knew you were such a cockslut (Y/N),” he cut her off, one particular swipe against her bundle of nerves tightened the muscles in her belly. The unappeasable JJ was back, the one that knew what spots to hit inside of her. Even though he was close to cracking as evident by the way his pace lapsed, he still kept himself in check to drive her mad. And it worked. It sent her into a rant of incomprehensible pleas. (Y/N) was teary-eyed, turning into a puddle under his attack. JJ’s dirtiness had her leaking, mind fuzzy in an unexplainable way. She wanted nothing more than to please him again. (Y/N) doesn’t think she’s ever felt like this before. Like she would cry and beg and offer anything she could to get JJ’s cock inside of her.

“So fucking greedy for more even though I fucked you already. Guess I didn’t do a good enough job, huh? Should I just stop then?” JJ taunted her in a coo that made her shake her head frantically. If he hadn’t already been rock hard, the desperation in her eyes would’ve done the job in a matter of seconds. “Yes- wait… no- JJ,” (Y/N) whined unable to put the words together. She wanted to say he was crazy. That of course he’d done a fucking phenomenal job. That she feels floaty and would wail if he stopped right now. There was just no way she could use so many words at once. That stupid smirk on his face proved he was just trying to be a complete menace right now. “Just a dumb Princess for me now,” he sounded like he’d won a prize, like he was awarded some major accomplishment.

JJ laid his body over hers like a blanket, shielding every part of it and effortlessly snuffing out her panic. His composure was rapidly deteriorating, matching her need for their bodies to fuse together. His tip slipped between her puffy folds, hearing her stutter. “There?” JJ’s hot breath tingled her lips at the new proximity. (Y/N) nodded, hands suddenly coming to life from next to her to feel over his honey tinted pecks. “There,” that was definitely a word she could formulate as he paused to capture her eyes. The rest of the world stilled around them.

JJ buried himself past her resistance, stretching her open until the front of his thighs connected with the inside of hers and ripped a groan out of himself. He was convinced the ethereal feeling of her walls confining him was the same one people felt upon arriving to heaven. Before he could even move, her ankles met above his butt. She was a mess of pleas and whimpers, only trying to get JJ deeper into her as if his head wasn’t already pushing against her cervix and turning her into mush. He moaned against her lips, both touching but wide open against the other from the intensity. She was so wet and easy to slide slip into without prep. Still tight and constricting around him even after their encounter. No matter how hard it was to do, JJ’s blue swirls prompted her to keep her eyes open. He refused to look away as his hips pulled away gradually only to thrust forward again. And then again.

“Fuck,” JJ grunted, this time setting a slower yet unimaginably rough pace. He rocked into her with every ounce of strength he had left. Her fingernails found refuge in the indent between his collarbone and shoulder, digging in so harshly there’d be crescent moon impressions left over. While his found refuge in the roots of her hair, tangling into the long wavy strands. JJ used that grip to strengthen his thrusts. He could see it in her fragile features, the cloudiness in her eyes, and the airy moans that left her. She was almost gone and he’d barely even gotten started with her. “Guess what (Y/N)? You’re just taking it at this point, letting me do whatever the hell I want and fuck my cum back into your cunt like such a good little whore.”

(Y/N) keened at his vulgarity, soaking it in, the hand that wasn’t on his shoulder came to life. Roaming every inch of his body from the defined lines of his torso to the tensed muscles on his shoulders. She hadn’t gotten the chance to do that properly, to get drunk on the smooth skin that she’d been aching to wander for months. He was worth painting in this moment, sweat beading on his skin, building at the tip of his nose, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, perfectly shaped lips slightly parted, darkened blue eyes refusing to look anywhere but her. She could’ve came just from the sight.

He was becoming more and more vocal at her unabashed discovery of his body and the new emotion swirling in her eyes, moaning deeply against her lips. This wasn’t the same as their raunchy quickie in the Twinkie, here he could dig into her until his head was visible at her stomach and repeat the motion for hours. Pull out when they got close and then start right back up as soon as they came down if he pleased. It would be such a fat lie to say that he wasn’t getting off on her wandering touch and dreamy look, the way it seemed like she’d been longing to have him near. JJ adjusted the tiniest bit to increase the torturously deep thrusting while still maintaining a calculated speed that had her seeing stars. “Yes, yes,” (Y/N) whimpered out trembling as her fingers paused at his hips to squeeze. Her hypersensitive center was clamping down on his throbbing dick welcoming the new depth.

JJ was jabbing at her cervix ruthlessly, sliding against her velvet walls, reaching crevices she hadn’t known existed. Hitting the spot inside of her that sent her heels digging into the bed and toes curling. And like the criminal he was, JJ’s hand found the crook of her left knee forcing her leg up to reach even deeper. His balls constricted, all too close to finishing. “That’s it, yeah- yes- right there,” JJ was deaf to everything except the obscene sloshing sounds coming from between them and the impure filth intertwining with their muffled words. It was the only thing that could be heard from her room.

“JJ I-,” her high pitched whine fell off, not able to recall what she had intended to say. The heat in her core was seconds away from snapping like a rubber band. He was clouding every inch of her mind and every corner of her body. (Y/N)’s senses were experiencing a dramatic overload that left her repeating one single name in her mind. JJ. “I know- I know pretty girl,” he soothed patronizingly, walls tightening around him at the use of a pet name. He couldn’t help the grunt and snap of his hips upwards. “You’re so close (Y/N). Squeezing- fuck- my cock. Want me to fill your pretty little pussy again?”

Her hands shot out to grab at his muscular back, clawing lines down the smooth, fresh skin that had him hissing. JJ lost it, the sensually deep pace he had maintained turning into sloppier thrusts as she marked him this time. His shark necklace knocked into her chin with every upwards slam into her. The sight of it dangling down his neck was a turn on by itself. “Answer me,” JJ’s tone was dominant, the hand in her hair yanked at it as he made her glazed over eyes focus on him and not the necklace. His face was almost red, eyes dark and demanding as his hair tickled her forehead. “You need my cock and cum Princess, but do you want it?” JJ slammed into her, emphasizing every choice word, “You want me? I’ll make you cum right now, if you tell me who you want (Y/N).” JJ didn’t have (or want) to say his name since they both knew who he was referring to. Who the two choices were. His entire mind, body, and soul ached to know the answer and the devil on his shoulder used this moment to get it.

(Y/N)’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. The endorphins washing over her through his cruelly delicious attack made it hard to string a sentence. But the response was all too easy. He owned her. Even if karma was righteous and she never got the chance to give her whole self to him sexually and emotionally, JJ still held claim to her heart and pleasure no matter how much he doubted it. “Yo-,” she didn’t have to finish it. JJ’s arms wrapped under her shoulders, holding his body against hers until they could feel their hearts pounding inside. He jerked his hips into her, surpassing the rhythm he had set for himself. He was barely pulling out at this point, only an inch or two escaping before he was plunging back into her. That was all it took for both of them to fall apart.

His pelvic bone pressured her clit in just the right way for her eyes to roll to the back of her head. (Y/N)’s jaw went limp, hands finding JJ’s blonde locks and clinging for dear life as every single muscle in her body clenched. Her fifth orgasm of the night hit her like a car crashing into a brick wall at two hundred miles per hour, lifting her into a blissed out state with the wracking waves of pleasure. She shook in his grasp, reaching a high like no other as everything went silent around her. A broken high pitched noise and his loud moan vibrating against her is the last thing she heard.

JJ felt his cock squeezed by her spasming pussy, sending him over his own edge a second later. His mind fully warped around the sensation, eyes squeezing shut. “Holy.. fuck,” he exclaimed in a raspy voice while bulldozing into her in sync with his knee moving upwards and holding her lifted leg against the bed harshly. Their peaks magnified by the rawness of their feelings that had boiled over. Thick spurts of JJ’s cum coating her insides as he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck. Bright dots littered his vision from the vigorous orgasm that claimed every part of him from the bottoms of his feet to the vein protruding in his neck.

Neither one of them even realized when JJ’s thrusts became lazier, losing energy as he came down. His pants coming out short and heavy onto her skin. The arms that had wrapped around her weakened their hold from the exhaustion setting in. He stilled at some point, breathing in the sweat of their sins and the scent of her floral perfume that lingered on the sheets around them consuming JJ’s senses. Laying with her in his arms still felt like a fever dream. If not for the mess they had made, JJ would’ve let them fall asleep right there. Kept himself snug and warm with her cunt. But he sluggishly lifted himself up instead having a promise to keep, his eyes finding their way to her face.

She was looking straight through everything in her line of sight like she was in a dreamlike state. That’s when he noticed how relaxed her body was beneath him, the shallow breathing. She’d been too quiet and hadn’t even lifted a finger to touch him. “Hey (Y/N)?” JJ murmured bringing his hand up to cup her cheek gently, caressing it with his thumb. He scanned over her face in confusion. It took a moment to realize it only because he couldn’t really believe it. More so doubting his capabilities. But seeing how far away she looked, JJ had to know he had fucked her into subspace. “(Y/N)?” JJ repeated a little louder realizing if he had, he certainly didn’t know how to pull her out of it. Panic began to settle in as his other hand went to her hair again, stroking through it with care and tenderness. “Hey Princess come back for me? It’s JJ,” the thought of having to call the one person who might know made him want to bury his fist in the closest wall.

She blinked once.

The hands offering solace and comfort were the first things she felt.

Then she blinked twice.

His honey-like voice urging her to return to him right before the glowing stars stuck to her ceiling began to look brighter.

Then finally her unfocused eyes were looking back at him. The fingers tangling through strands of her hair with a sense of uneasiness and his gentle voice asking for her was the only thing that managed to reach her. (Y/N) had never felt like that before, like she was transcending elsewhere. An out of body experience that she’d be unable to describe if asked. “JJ?” she mumbled, breathing a little heavier now. “What happened?” she questioned as he looked at her with sudden bewilderment which made her a little nervous. “You don’t know what happened? You’ve never reached subspace before?” She could hear it in his voice. The surprise that she’d done it with him and the boost of ego that came with not having done it with John B. The blush on her cheeks spread quickly, eyes closing as she buckled under his intense stare. (Y/N) was still basking in the glow from their shared orgasm which made it harder to think but she knew the answer.

She truthfully never had. There was times with John B she thought she might, but she’d been laced with uncertainty. (Y/N) would slow them down before her mind could wander off. It was always what she considered to be an irrational fear since John B would realistically never let something happen to her, but with JJ she had willingly let it happen. No, subconsciously, let it happen. Her body hadn’t fought it at all. “I’ve- no. I’ve never done that,” she admitted in a whisper looking anywhere but him. But his fingers found her chin, tilting her head back to him so their eyes could meet. The lust was replaced with something that (Y/N) had never seen in them before. Something she would call love if it didn’t sound absolutely insane. JJ Maybank in love with her. “S’not a big deal,” she tried to act like it wasn’t but it certainly felt like it.

JJ nodded carefully, acting with caution as she retreated back into her thoughts. He knew her too well by now. When things scared (Y/N), she’d pull away from them. She’d let her overthinking do the work before risking herself getting hurt. He didn’t want to push her back into her shell now. Not now that he had gotten a taste of her. That he had managed to open her up more than. Usually it was him running from any form of commitment, yet here he was practically salivating for it. “Yeah,” he sounded unconvinced but (Y/N) was glad he didn’t dwell on it. He winced as she shifted, his softening member grazing against her walls making her eyes flutter and plump lips part. “Tired?” JJ’s softness wasn’t easy to ignore considering she was used to his hard exterior hiding his emotions. They hadn’t actually gotten to this part earlier. JJ had to rush back before John B suspected anything while she had given herself the mercy of a couple of minutes to gather herself.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) breathed out letting her eyes close softly, still feeling the aftershocks of her intense orgasm and hopelessly attempting to run away from the thoughts in her mind. JJ did know her too well. Her eyes squeezed tighter as she felt JJ pull out, another round of their juices sneaking down between her crack and onto the bed. She might have to change the whole mattress honestly. JJ had to bite back an audible noise that wanted to spill out from the sight of it. His shiny, slick dick twitched below him. After cumming twice, he doesn’t understand how she holds enough power over him to illicit a response like this. JJ was capable of fucking her again if given the opportunity. But her sleepy eyes gave her away. They were both exhausted.

He moved farther away, only to pick her up bridal style from where she lay earning a low gasp. “What’re you doing?” (Y/N) mumbled, lacking the strength to fight him off at this present time. Her arms wound around his neck quickly in fear of diving headfirst into her oak wood floor but she had a feeling he wouldn’t let that happen. The muscles in his arms flexed as he walked her into the bathroom, only confusing her more. “I owe you a bath,” JJ stated like it was obvious when he saw her bewildered expression, leaning down to sit her onto the bathtub gently. Her heart felt tight in her chest having completely forgotten about her bath. All in all, it would’ve been pointless had she taken it earlier with JJ always getting his way.

She watched as he leaned down to switch the warm water on, closing the drain when it was at a nice temperature. The water crept through her toes first before touching the underside of her thigh. (Y/N) sighed at the way it soothed her aching skin and throbbing mound. He went to push the lid down on the toilet, eyeing it and lifting an eyebrow when it lowered gently. Kooks, he thought instantly. JJ turned to face her and take a seat. “You’re not getting in?” The question startled him, like that’s not what he’d been planning on doing whatsoever. “Uhm- I can… Figured I’d just give you one so you could get to bed and I’ll go after,” there he went again, tugging on emotions that she’d spent months hiding under a rug. She couldn’t get it through her head, why JJ was evoking a reaction from her that she didn’t know existed, one that didn’t compare to John B. If she thought she had loved JB then what was this? Fooling herself into believing that words during sex were simply just that was becoming impossible.

“I mean- s’a bit silly? I’m already in here.. You need sleep too. Might as well get in,” she tilted her head slightly, glancing at him with such fondness that could take his breath away. JJ swallowed as he stood up and slid inside behind her, finding the same relief in his joints that she had. She scooted backwards until their bodies were touching, laying back onto his solid chest with closed eyes. His body relaxed as she decided what boundaries they could cross outside of sex. They let the running water fill the comfortable silence as they nestled into each other. A conversation about where this was leading was probably in order, but it was easier to remain ignorant. To stay quiet in hopes of stretching out the moment in case it didn’t last.

JJ’s fingers danced on the edge of her thigh until they gradually spread for him. He traced around the bruise he’d left her close to apologizing for the purple emerging but also finding pride in being the one that left it on her. It dawned on him that John B could’ve seen it earlier if he had found out the way JJ had intended him to. His eyes peered over her features curiously, wondering if she had actually listened to his sex induced demand. He felt guilty now that it was John B’s girlfriend he had done that to. (Y/N) who wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it had messed with her own. His long-time best friend who he had betrayed in a way he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. But his feelings for her made him act out in the moment instead of apologize. Made him want to rub it in JB’s face that her pleasure belonged to him. He let out a soft sigh, wanting to ask but lacking the courage. Her body was rising and falling in rhythm with his breathing, being covered by the water as it continued to rise. The bathroom fell quiet again as she peeked her eyes open to extend her foot and turn the handle off.

Once she did, her eyes fell on the place JJ’s fingers were making her skin shiver. With his other hand, he reached for her expensive looking body wash on the edge of the tub and the washcloth dangling close to their heads. She watched inquisitively as he dipped the rag in water squeezing the excess away and poured an ungracious amount of soap which made her giggle. He finally cracked a smile at that, leaving the bottle open as he set it back down. If JJ could get her to make that noise every day, it might just all be worth it in the end.

He began to lather her upper body first, feeling her jump slightly against him when his fingers grazed over her abused nipples. It felt nice though, domestic even. Him washing off the remnants of their day from her body. If only it was as easy to erase the memories. “I have to talk to him tomorrow,” she was the first to interrupt the silence making his smile falter and disappear like it’d never been there in the first place. He didn’t respond for a minute, just continuing to glide the washcloth over her thigh then down. He wiped meticulously between her legs knowing she was overly sensitive there now which was confirmed by the way her thighs went to shut but he stopped them.

“‘Bout what?” he didn’t mean it to be such a broad question but the snort she responded with made him aware of it. JJ knew what she wanted to discuss, he just didn’t know how to ask whether it’ll end with them breaking up officially or attempting to reconcile. (Y/N) wanted to pretend like he was being oblivious on purpose and not like she was reading into what was really going on. (Y/N)’s mind was muddled by the delicate way he was cleaning her off and the zero control she showed around him. Truthfully, she’d been inwardly swaying between the two boys for too long now.

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly, watching his hand move down her tilted leg. The air felt heavy with the words spoken during intimacy. After being so forthcoming about who she’d choose, JJ still had an unwarranted fear that she would retract. Blame everything on the fact that she was lost chasing her high. He’d obviously excelled in that department, granting her with several orgasms but who she needed emotionally was still poking at him. It was an unintentionally loaded question that left her feeling anxious inside. “Don’t know yet.”

JJ didn’t speak again after that, he simply kept up his goal of bathing her. The washcloth smoothed over the bite on her shoulder making her whimper and throb at the same time. JJ was astonished with himself, finding it hard to believe he’d been capable of doing actual damage. But (Y/N)’s breathing was a tiny bit heavier, eyes opened halfway as she attempted to conceal how she felt about it. He had picked up on enough of her cues to know she had thrived off of it, during sex and now. JJ inhaled through his nose, free hand moving to tug at his cock slightly that had twitched. He wanted to do more, bite her thighs until his teeth tore through the flesh and tinted her tan with crimson red. Then soothe the skin with his tongue before repeating the act on her other thigh. Now that he had her, his possessiveness had gone into hyperdrive. Satiated only by the idea of his bite mark on her delicate skin.

Once she was covered in suds and the passion fruit smell filled his senses, he used the same washcloth on himself trying to distract and recollect himself before his animalistic kink was mentioned. (Y/N) had lifted up slightly allowing him to clean his front section too lost in her own mind to notice his revelation. She wanted to be the one to wash him, travel his body in the same way but by the time she got done overthinking, he seemed about done. She tugged on her bottom lip softly, opening the drain again to let out the dirty water. JJ sat up behind her and poured shampoo onto his hand before slipping his fingers through her wet hair unexpectedly. His fingers scratched softly at the scalp hearing a content hum from the girl in front of him. This was out of the norm for him, putting so much effort into aftercare. Girls would leave his room before he put any thought into them needing even a shower or rest. He was a dick and a player. He was well aware of that. JJ was also well aware that he wasn’t a dick and a player when it came to her.

He repeated the steps with the conditioner after washing her hair out with the clean water she was filling the bathtub up with. Before JJ could do it for himself, (Y/N) was turning around in between his legs and taking the shampoo from his grasp. She wouldn’t let the chance slip through her fingers. “You’ll smell like me,” she warned with a teasing smile softening the worry etched in their faces. JJ just stared at her. The lines on her forehead, the curve of her button nose, the undeserving kindness she showed him. Then he shrugged in the same manner she had. “Good,” he replied without a second thought to it making her blush reappear on her cheeks and down her neck.

(Y/N)’s soft hands ran shampoo through the blonde forcing his eyes to shut and an embarrassing moan to escape. But she giggled again. An onslaught of butterflies in his abdomen making him feel queasy. How could he really feel bad for his actions when everything inside of him turned into mush around her. “Never had someone wash your hair before?” It was supposed to be a joke but JJ gave her a small nod as he let his body relax from her touch. “Guess it’s a night of firsts,” he murmured reminding her that he’d been the first to drop her. She let out a shaky breath as he sunk into the water to wash off the shampoo.

He lifted out from the water, barely having a chance to rub the water out of his eyes before soft lips were finding his. There was no delay as he kissed her back, arms wrapping around her loosely to pull her closer. He straightened out his legs so that she could slide onto his lap with ease. Her fingers tangled in his hair that now looked a little darker from the water. They tugged tentatively, willing him to open his mouth for her. Her chest pressed against his just a little tighter as they deepened the kiss. He relinquished control under her, letting her continue to guide the pace they were moving at. Her tongue slid against his, tasting him.

The kiss grew lazy, mouths moving against one another for the sole purpose of being able to in the private confines of her bathroom. His hands found the curves of her waist, sliding over them to her back and then down to grab handfuls of her ass. He lifted her closer to him centers aligning as she gasped into the kiss. She moved slightly but one of JJ’s hands found sanctuary wound around her throat. He pulled (Y/N) back to him, lips melting into a more meticulous kiss. He licked between her lips once, then twice with a particularly jarring squeeze to her ass cheek. She complied more willing than she gave away. JJ’s tongue circled hers, groaning as she began to pull away. (Y/N) kept their forehead and noses connected. “J?” she mumbled resting her palms on his torso and digging her fingers in softly.

“Yeah?” he breathed out reaching forward slightly in attempt to catch her lips again but she didn’t let him. “Conditioner?” she asked which made him chuckle and shake his head slightly without pulling away. JJ kept his hands in place and used them to stand up with her, water pouring down from both their bodies while she scrambled to find a grip on his shoulders. “You think my dad buys shampoo and conditioner? Think I’m good with shampoo,” he didn’t mean it like that, but the pang of guilt and sadness hit her nonetheless. JJ didn’t even bother to empty out the bath water just to check that no more was falling in, ignoring her chirps of protest once he led them out of the bathroom.

“JJ- my bed. I swear-.”

“Swear what?”

He hovered her above the clean side of the mattress, a mischievous smirk finding its way. “I-I..,” she couldn’t come up with a rebuttal fast enough before he was dropping onto the bed with her and laying them down. (Y/N) wanted to be mad but a laugh is what came out instead as he tugged her close against him, facing one another. “Too slow,” he deemed letting the pillows pave a way to the drowsiness kicking in. He didn’t expect it to happen so quickly but he really was worn out. JJ’s blue eyes began to flutter in front of her and she laid her hand on his cheek gently. All it took was that for them to close completely.

(Y/N) took in this freshly washed version of JJ getting comfy in her bed. She’d be in so much trouble if her dad caught them. He was used to John B. Accepting of his daughter dating a Pogue because they’d become well aquatinted together while working on The Druthers. But JJ Maybank? Son of the town drunk who was notorious for stealing and picking fights with anyone in his life including JJ? He’d have a heart attack from his hatred toward Luke and JJ, who he had already had a couple of run ins with at the Island Club. Although, no matter how much trouble she could get into, he still looked unbearably cute releasing soft puffs of air her way.

“Look whose tired now,” she teased as he fought to keep himself awake through the rubbing of her thumb and the welcoming satin feel of the pillowcase. JJ mumbled incoherently switching between the comfort her hand offered and the darkness looming. He slipped further into the vulnerable limbo of sleep when he spoke next. “It’s not just sex to me (Y/N).”

The words hung in the air as he finally drifted off, snores interrupting the thudding off her heart in her throat. It was bittersweet to hear him utter the words her body craved from him. What she felt for John B didn’t come close to this. She would be in denial if she didn’t face it. (Y/N) didn’t see any plausible way to make this work though, even if she wanted it to. John B and JJ were as thick as thieves. Best friends for life. She had already come between that and caused enough damage. If she chose one of them now, their friendships would never be the same. Between any of them, not just the three that were now stuck in a love triangle.

With the weight of the world on her shoulders and the peace offered by the warmth he radiated, she let herself be taken over by the same darkness. After a long, perplexing day, both of them were drained mentally and physically. Any apprehension she felt could wait till tomorrow. Not even her overthinking could keep her up tonight. And if JJ fell asleep remembering that he hadn’t mentioned John B’s name again the whole night, well. He kept it to himself.

*****

“(Y/N)?” she heard faintly making her snuggle further into the damp sheets and comforters that were colder now without the presence of body heat at her side.

“Five more minutes,” she urged in the haze not wanting to awaken just yet but the voice was persistent and annoying on the other side of her door. Her doorknob rattled as the intruder attempted to open it which is what made her stir finally. “Five more- (Y/N) get up,” Rafe’s frustrated voice rang from the outside of her bedroom which made her eyes peek at last. Instead of being met with an empty room though, JJ was standing in front of her bathroom with wide eyes, her toothbrush hanging from his mouth, and low-hanging boxers. “Dad said you were supposed to come to the country club with us. Hurry up,” Rafe rushed her assuming she’d been in the process of getting ready when she had completely forgotten.

(Y/N) had promised she’d go to dinner with them Saturday afternoon since she’d been spending so much time with John B and her friends on The Cut. She had never slept into the afternoon though. With a quick flicker of her eyes to the clock that read 4:56 P.M. and back to a half naked JJ, memories of yesterday flooded her. Any tiredness that remained was long gone now as she shot up from the bed, holding the comforter to her naked chest. “Uhm- yeah,” (Y/N)’s called out more firmly now that she was fully awake. “Tell dad I’m not feeling well- I’ll go to dinner tomorrow.” There was a pause on the other side of the door as JJ took the toothbrush out of his mouth.

“Is John B in there with you?” Rafe accused which made JJ’s fingers twitch with jealousy. He had to refrain himself from calling out to him and making it clear that it was him and not John B who had the privilege of waking up at her side this morning. “God Rafe no,” (Y/N) claimed in exasperation, irritated with the way this conversation with going. She shouldn’t feel guilty about the flash of anger in JJ’s blue eyes but she did. “I was just out late at The Boneyard. Got a massive hangover. Tell him I’m sick,” (Y/N) lied but it was the only thing that she knew would convince him. They had seen each other in passing last night so there was no reason Rafe wouldn’t believe her. It seemed to work though as he huffed from the other side.

“And you’re still the favorite?” He asked rhetorically and bitterly as heavy footsteps began making their way away from her door hinting at his departure. They both waited another minute before visibly relaxing now that they weren’t caught. She moved her attention back to JJ who made his way into the restroom to spit out the toothpaste and rinse his mouth out. There were bright, red gashes down his back making her breath hitch as she realized she was the blame. She tried to shake the thought away, ignoring the stirring in her pit. Like she had enjoyed staking her own claim. (Y/N) paid attention to what she should be disgusted in instead. JJ was using her toothbrush, the one she’d been using daily for the last month. But it warmed her heart a little that JJ hadn’t minded using it. He was so calm, walking around her room and using her things like he belonged there. Yesterday she had woken beside John B in the Chateau and today she had JJ in her bedroom on Figure Eight. Oh how the tables had turned.

It’s not just sex to me (Y/N).

The words made their way to the forefront of her mind as she chewed on her bottom lip watching him. He turned to her with a nonchalant, unreadable expression on his face. “So round 3?” He joked as he threw the hand towel he used to dry his face across his shoulder and crossed his arms in front of her. The way his eyes scanned her body hidden by the covers made her question whether it was indeed a joke or not though. The area between her legs reawakened from the way he hungrily looked her over like she’d been served to him on a silver platter. It became obvious rather quickly that they couldn’t be alone anymore without succumbing to the temptation.

“No,” (Y/N) said adamantly as she stood up dragging the covers behind her and retrieving a matching lavender lace bra and panty set to wear. She moved to the closet after a quick slam of the drawer and found jean shorts with a simple white t-shirt to wear. “You’d look better in mine,” JJ hummed from where he stood checking her out as she bit back a snarky remark and evaded the idea of herself in his clothing. It seemed as though they were back to normal, pushing until the other broke. Clearly last nights words were lost to the night. (Y/N) turned to make her way towards the bathroom acting unbothered with the tips of ear feeling a little hot and heart skipping a beat in her chest. He made no effort to move out of her way, just grinned with entertainment. His favorite past time was pushing her buttons until she snapped. This time pushing her buttons held a new type of reward that he wanted to relive a dozen times over.

(Y/N) scoffed at him though, squinting her eyes in mock anger to see if he would budge. But he simply peered down towards the sheet covering her chest and leaned closer to her. “I said-,” his thumb running across her bottom lip made her falter. The want in his eyes was pouring into her all too quickly. She was trying to make sense of this situation she had landed herself into but JJ made it easy to lose track of everything. Her heart and body yearned for things that she wasn’t allowed to have. She couldn’t explain how she had let herself be roped into the mess that is JJ. He was too good at reminding her though, lowering his hand down her jaw to her throat. He closed the space, tightening his fingers and feeling the jump in her pulse.

It was that small detail that made him act. “I know what you said,” he murmured before whirling them around so that her back hit the wall next to the door. His hand rested above her head, effectively trapping her against his body. “You said no… But you’re just so reactive,” he claimed as his leg slid between hers. The position mirrored the one from last night lighting the flame of arousal with memories and nothing but the thin sheet covering her as his bare thigh rubbed against her core. JJ felt it immediately, the wetness seeping through and making him groan quietly. Her breathing was already picking up, cheeks becoming flushed in a matter of seconds. “See Princess? I know what you like,” he did. In a matter of twenty four hours he had picked up on every cue that gave away what made her tick. “Like when your dad woke me up knocking on the door. I was so hard,” he pressed against her harder, “I know you would’ve liked me waking you up by stuffing you full of my cock.”

“JJ..,” she moaned his name without thinking moving her hand to grip at his wrist in a warning. Her knees wanted to give out under her from the indecency he was spewing. He leaned down to feather his lips across her ear feeling her tremble against his body. “Should’ve made you scream daddy so he knew who owned his daughter now,” JJ whispered with a menacing squeeze that made her whimper, breaths coming out short. She would’ve been on the floor now had it not been for his grip on her neck. He almost devoured her the second he felt the damp spot on the sheet grow at his words. His boxers were constricting at a rapid pace now that he discovered a new kink as his lips latched onto her shoulder close to where his bite mark was. “You like that? Like imagining daddy shoving his cock into his sleeping girl?” JJ groaned sending vibrations through her skin that made her body arch into him.

“Fuck- J,” (Y/N) gasped out catching him off guard and shoving him abruptly from where he stood. JJ’s eyes were darker now, taking one step forward ready to pounce before he noticed the fiery look she held. His chest was rising and falling now fighting himself from reaching out and taking her again. “I’m serious. Last night was sex. That’s all it was, okay? We spent months playing this little game and it was bound to happen. Now it’s out of our system,” it was a lie when she said it, they both knew it, “and it doesn’t have to happen again. I have to go apologize to John B.” She moved to the bathroom and closed the door behind herself with a loud thud before he had the chance to rebuttal. She leaned back into it closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.

(Y/N) hadn’t intended to be so mean with her words but he wasn’t listening to her and she needed him to remember why he hated her before they met. It was easier to have JJ hate her. If he did, she wouldn’t be going through all these conflicting thoughts in her head. She suddenly wished her mom was still here. She would have had the best advice for her. It probably would’ve gone something along the lines of follow your heart but her mom hadn’t met JJ yet, the culprit of her swaying heart. (Y/N) sighed rubbing her entire face as if that would somehow wake her up from her nightmare.

After a moment of alone time to calm her unfurling heat, she got dressed with the clothes she had brought into the bathroom. Her hair was a mess from where she had fallen asleep with it wet so she most definitely had to brush it. The memory of them in the bathtub made her pause in the mirror. She could still feel his fingers tracing the bruise he had left and the adoring way he had cleaned every corner of her body. He didn’t deserve her attitude yet she had given it to him anyways. No matter how much John B was probably blaming JJ, it was ultimately her fault for giving into the desire. It was such a frustrating notion to her that she wanted to punch the mirror in front of her but she’d end up hurting herself more than accomplishing anything.

Her moment of alone time turned into twenty minutes of stress-filled pacing. JJ’s wary knock at the door is what snapped her out of it. She ran a hand through her wavy hair before opening it and finding JJ wearing his outfit from the night before with concern written all over his face. JJ knew he had gotten caught up in the heat of the moment when she strutted around with nothing but a sheet on. She had that power over him, to rile him up without actively doing anything. JJ still wanted to give her any necessary space before trying to speak to her but she was taking too long and he was frightened by how often she fell victim to her doubts. “You okay?” he checked in with her, scanning her face which was devoid of any clues as to how she was feeling. His hand tentatively reached up to brush some hair behind her ear gently making her heart do somersaults. “Yeah,” she mumbled unable to resist nudging against his hand to melt into it as a small peace offering, bathing in the warmth his body offered her.

She was supposed to be angry, shoving him away. But the whirlwind going on inside of her tugged her from one side to the other. JJ kept his hand there, soothingly rubbing circles into her cheek. He was still cautious as he stepped closer to her, to wrap an arm around her delicate waist and better angle his hand. Her eyes never left his as she allowed him to bring her into his embrace. (Y/N) wanted to fight against it inside but her body melted into his without letting her second guess it. “I’ll go talk to JB with you,” he finally told her after a minute or two of calming her down. He already behaved like a coward leaving the Chateau before things got out of hand. Which meant JJ had to go and at least try to apologize and own up to the fact that he just should’ve gone about things a different way. He didn’t know how well that’d fare over or how he’d handle John B’s valid attitude towards them, especially her, but he would try nonetheless. At least that’s what he also told Kie last night. But he kept that conversation to himself for now.

Him joining her was shocking, enough for her eyes to swirl with uncertainty. “JJ- I don’t know. What if it’s not a good idea?” she mumbled then, her hand fisting his shirt as the anxiety of what was about to occur began to eat her up. If there was something she struggled to keep within, it would be the tell-tale sign of her nerves. Her heartbeat would run amuck and the nausea would hit her in a way she could barely keep her balance. This time instead of needing a Zofran it was JJ who helped keep her breathing steady and panic attack at bay. His fingers slipped under her shirt in the back, tracing his hand to her hip and offering her a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t care honestly. I’ve got some things I have to apologize for too,” he sighed hoping this could’ve been pushed back maybe just a week. That would give him enough time to settle into whatever this was and break her cement walls down. But she couldn’t live another day knowing how mad John B had been yesterday. It hurt her because she’d been the one to cause so much agony. And no matter what happened, John B still held a place in her heart which complicated things further in her mind. There was a war between her heart and brain that she just wanted to end one way or another. “And I messed up last night. Not with John B but with you. Takes two to tango and I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he added then assuaging her guilt. His fingers ran over her hip bone, circling there for a minute before pressing in slightly.

The look on her face when she walked into her room last night would be engrained into his hippocampus forever. The wet puffy cheeks, bloodshot eyes, broken exterior. He blamed himself for that. For causing her so much turmoil. But he was selfish at the same time, glad that he’d been the one to find her. The back of her mind made it a point to notice that he regretted not being there for her, not the actual sin they committed. This new side of him was frightening yet everything she wanted at the same time. (Y/N) nodded wordlessly as her hip nudged out slightly into his palm, comforted by the soft caressing while also conflicted. Not knowing how to respond to him when she couldn’t process the change in their dynamic. She also knew there’d be no stopping him even if she wanted to.

“We can take my bike, stashed it in some bushes,” the casual words summoned an unexpected laugh from her. She hadn’t thought about how he had gotten to her house last night, too distracted by his unholy mouth and skilled hands. It made sense that he would’ve had to hide the green worn down bike so that nobody called the cops with stupid accusations. A small smile danced on her lips as she pulled away to lead them out of her bedroom. “I’ve never ridden on your bike,” the comment made him return the same mischievous grin while glancing at the hallway.

“Never had a girl besides Kie on my bike,” it shouldn’t have made her feel jealous but God, it was like an accidental flip of a switch, there were so many times she had thought they liked each other. Hearing that she was the only girl to ride with him made her miss a step on the way down the staircase to which JJ’s hand jumped out to grab her arm quickly. A small embarrassed smile shot his way before he let go with a small squeeze to her forearm and she continued down the steps hastily. He noticed it, noticed the unintended affect his words had. But before he could add something else in, a younger girl was walking out of a bedroom at the same time they were approaching the second floor.

Wheezie’s eyes bulged out of her head behind her glasses, looking from (Y/N)’s widened eyes to the frozen stranger behind her. “That’s not John B,” her sister stated the obvious lowering her phone with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. She had also been informed by Rafe that their sister was supposedly bed-ridden with a gnarly hangover which didn’t seem to be the case at all. “Nope, JJ,” he introduced himself with a half-assed smile not intending to come across as rude but seriously. Did people have to keep mentioning him? She crossed her arms over her chest with such a wicked smile.

“Okay Wheezie. John B knows so you can’t use that against me,” (Y/N) blurted out immediately recognizing the intentions behind her sisters stance. But the younger girl just smiled wider, taking a pause to come up with something else. “Well dad doesn’t know. He doesn’t let guys spend the night remember?” she reminded her of Ward’s rules to let her know she had them by the balls. (Y/N) cursed under her breath looking down the steps to the first floor before meeting Wheezie’s eyes and running her fingers through her hair. Normally they always got along with minimal issues. But if Wheezie caught a scent of wrongdoing, she was like a dog with a bone.

“Fine. I’ll do whatever you want. Just tell me later because we’ve really got to go,” (Y/N) gave in as she stepped down the last step with JJ following suit now that the situation was handled. Wheezie let out an excited squeal running back into her room to surely make a whole list of things that she would make (Y/N) do. The girl couldn’t even help the chuckle that escaped her lips as they walked the rest of the way to the main floor. She had to give it to her sister. Wheezie was indeed too smart for her own good. “I like her. She’s a hustler,” JJ nodded with a serious tone that made (Y/N) laugh a bit too loudly and shake her head. He cracked a big grin, teeth showing and eyes crinkling at the sound that had his heart swelling.

With one last glance up the stairs where her sister resided, (Y/N) headed out the door with a happy smile feeling a little more airy than before. It felt odd to have JJ walking through her house, meeting one of her family members. Her life with the Pogues this summer had been an adventure of a lifetime and she didn’t tend to mix it too much with her home life. Even John B had only come over a handful of times for dinner in the short couple months of them dating. And he really only slept over once or twice. Kie was the exception. They had plenty of sleepovers at both houses. It’s not that she was ashamed of the guys, it was more like she was ashamed of her life. The pointless knick knacks that rich people bought, the amount of empty bedrooms, the sense of entitlement that the people in her life had. Money would always come and go, as long as she had her real family, the Pogues, with her then everything would be alright.

“She’s like my sister though so it doesn’t count,” JJ spoke, bringing her out of her thoughts as they walked down the lawn. (Y/N) glanced over at him with a puzzled look on her face which made him pause at the side gate they were coming up to. She pulled the gate door open until she realized he wasn’t walking through. “Kie?.. She’s like my sister so it doesn’t count… You’re the first girl to ride my bike,” he put emphasis on the word by stepping closer to her, using his knuckle to brush against the back of hers before feathering his fingertips up her arm and shoulder. (Y/N)’s heart began to pound in her chest when she picked up on what he was saying. His fingers continued until he cupped her chin, thumb pulling her bottom lip softly before releasing it and watching it bounce back. JJ was enthralled by the sight and she him.

No matter how much she wanted to release herself from the guilt and kiss him until their lips were sore and raw, (Y/N) also wanted to tell him to quit it. To stop making this more difficult than needed but somehow the world slips away when he’s near. Her bottom lip was lit on fire where the pad of his thumb touched, she was drawn to him like a magnet. His head inched forward almost as if waiting for her to push him away. “J..,” she mumbled reaching her hand up onto his chest, running her palm across it until she arrived at his shark tooth necklace and tugged slightly. She did nothing to pull away from him as the memory of it hitting her chin surfaced and weakened her with the tingles it provoked. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered as his lips ghosted over hers. His tongue slipped out to lick his bottom lip, purposefully smoothing over hers. (Y/N) tugged hard on the necklace not even a second later unable to refrain herself. Their lips connected, JJ’s hand molding into the curve of her neck while the other got lost in her hair. Kissing JJ felt like the first time every time. It was passionate, breath-taking.

Her knees wanted to buckle in his hold, sensing the adoration mixed in. It was like JJ read her mind, the way he walked her back into the gate. (Y/N)’s back met the searing metal that only added to the heat escalating the temperature of her body. But he didn’t let his hand roam. Instead he deepened the kiss, putting spotlight attention on taking the breath out of her lungs. He explored every corner, tasted the mint of her toothpaste, memorized the way her tongue slid against his. JJ could only focus on the moment, shoving every worry aside with ease. It was the way her fingers brushed the bare skin under his shirt that had him pressing her body into the fence.

(Y/N) gasped, tilting her head to the side away from him slightly to pant for air. JJ just saw the opportunity to kiss up the curve of her jaw, causing her eyes to flutter. Her nails dug into the crook of his v-line just as he reached the spot on her neck that twisted knots in her belly. JJ had to stifle a groan, sucking on the sensitive skin possessively and with fervor as his hand gripped her hair straining her neck as forced it up. He moved with gentle yet frantic urgency, swiping his tongue every so often to hear the mewl that escaped her lips. The pleasure and stinging sensation blinding her from how careless leaving yet another mark on her was. It wasn’t until he was satisfied and she was whining from the discomfort evolving that he pulled back to admire his work ignoring the temptation to see red. His lips parted, short harsh breaths washing over the darkened spot on her neck. (Y/N) let out an involuntary whimper at the feeling, meeting his forehead with hers to sway his attention.

JJ’s hold loosened at the same time a car engine roared through the street. Had cars been passing by the whole time? Neither one had been able to hear a thing besides the person in front of them. He still preferred to focus on the lines and dips of her face over the Kooks driving by. It felt like they were in their own bubble, rid of consequences. But some thought would always creep into the front of her mind as the oxygen seemed to reach her head again. It was only a name. But a name that held enough weight to get her to drop her hand from his shirt. JJ’s eyes flashed with something unreadable as he witnessed the moment she slipped away again.

“So I take it that means you only have one helmet?” It was meant to show indifference and lighten the magnitude of the moment but (Y/N)’s voice wobbled. She would’ve looked away the second she said it but the hand on her chin kept her where JJ wanted. The other one fell to his side aching in a similar way her body did. “It’s yours Princess,” JJ spoke with deeper meaning behind the hint of playfulness. The helmet wasn’t the only thing that was hers, his mouth was, his body, his thoughts, the stupid red baseball cap, especially his heart. Most definitely his heart. She could see it in blue of his irises. The intensity behind his words left her speechless once again. As much as she wanted to read between the lines, there were too many obstacles between them.

It was JJ who finally had to muster the strength to pull apart, his fingers tightening just briefly before letting go of her chin completely. He masked his own disappointment with the only way they knew how to communicate. A devious little smirk emerged at the prominent hickey forming on her neck and he rubbed at his jaw contemplating his work. “Damn, there’s no missin’ that,” JJ chuckled snapping her out of it as her hand flew up to her neck to touch the sore area. She cursed under breath, shoving at his arm slightly with her free hand as she lifted away from the fence.

“I think you’ve marked me enough,” (Y/N) huffed not even wanting to imagine what John B’s reaction would be. The bite on her shoulder and the other hickey was covered by the t-shirt, but this one would take more effort to hide. She flipped some of her hair forward which was temporarily successful. It irked JJ to see her covering up the evidence of his touch. He wanted to behave but his jealousy was ravenous. With a mind of it’s own that didn’t think about anybody else. “Don’t think it’s enough if you can still cover them,” he noted, the smirk disappearing into a thin line on his lips. She rolled her eyes at the comment biting back the urge to remind him she wasn’t his. As much as she wanted to wear it proudly, show all the girls on both sides of the island that JJ had been the one to do this, she couldn’t. (Y/N) simply had to ignore how hot his possessive tendencies were.

“Whatever,” she exclaimed, too flustered to find a witty response. She opened the gate again, not waiting for JJ this time around as she slipped through and began walking to the side of her house where JJ had presumably left the bike. He took just another second before following after her, taking the lead since he was the only one who knew where the bike was actually hidden. They glanced at each other for a meager second before (Y/N) was turning her attention to the oncoming car. JJ looked away, clicking his tongue against the rooftop of his mouth as they came up to one particularly big bush. He disappeared behind it before re-emerging pushing the handles out. (Y/N) swallowed the lump in her throat now that they were actually about to leave. She felt frozen as JJ casually hopped onto the bike and turned the key. The sound made her jump in JJ’s peripheral view. He turned his head towards her, reading the hesitance on her expression.

JJ reached his arm back to grab the helmet, nudging it into her stomach gently. “Hey it’ll be fine,” he meant both the bike ride and the conversation with John. But he couldn’t really know if it would be so the attempt at easing her was pointless.. She exhaled for a moment, taking in the tenderness that he spoke with and the affection swimming in the oceans of his eyes before nodding. She took the helmet from his grasp to put it on. Her nervous fingers fiddled with the clasp to close it once it was on. It’s not like she really knew how to do it anyways so the jitters kicking in didn’t help. Her inexperience was so obvious that it was embarrassing. But JJ’s rough fingers snuck past hers, pushing them out of the way to clasp it shut with one easy motion. “There,” his voice was kind, devoid of any judgement or ridicule. The stirring in his chest at the sight of her in his helmet further restricted his ability to breathe.

She slipped onto the bike with a shade of soft pink traveling up her neck. (Y/N) made sure to scoot closer, wrapping her arms around JJ’s torso and holding her hands there in preparation for her first ride. The heat of his body was soothing as the apphrension grew. JJ just always seemed to read her perfectly though, giving her hands a small squeeze before putting both of his on the handles and beginning to ride out onto the street. She let out a small gasp at the wind blowing past them when he really started down the road. It was more exhilarating than she could’ve imagined it being. Her senses were hyper alert, aware of every turn and increase of speed.

He was a pro at it though, weaving through cars and traffic with no issue. JJ could feel her tighten her grip every time they got close to another car. Normally he’d tease Kie, riding as close as he could to it just to hear her yell at him. But with her he sped farther away, not wanting to scare her during her right off the bat. This side of himself was just as surprising to him as it has been to her. The boys would prod and tease him until his grave if they found out. JJ had spent so long trying to convince himself that what he felt was just lust and taboo desire. But now these pent up emotions were finally loose and swirling inside of him he struggled to refrain from from acting normally.

(Y/N) did end up raising her head up very slowly at one point to take in the ocean view at their side. The sun was still out, shining down on the water below and giving it a yellow tint behind the clear blue. The rush she got from the wind hitting every part of her body only heightened the beauty of it. It was enough for her to forget the wave of nausea that had been hitting a few minutes ago and the fear that had kept her glued to his back. JJ had caught sight of her in his mirror, admiring the serenity in her features. (Y/N) looked breathtaking with her freshly washed hair flowing back, her eyes filled with peace. He thinks he understood in that moment that what he felt was called love. There was no other word for it but that. There was no tip-toeing around the way his heart felt like imploding in his chest and his lungs felt like evaporating into thin air when she was near.

Just as quick as it happened though, the semi speeding past them in the lane snapped her out of it. She was back into the curve of his back, helmet smushed into the space between his shoulder blades. Hands wound tightly around him.

They continued the rest of the way in silence. The further they got from Figure Eight, the more her body became rigid against his back. It hit her then that it was an extremely bad idea to show up with JJ but it was too late to turn around now. The familiar streets of the Cut came into view reinforcing her panic. Her grip had cemented so much JJ thought she would actually leave a few bruises or wounds behind. “Nothing’s gonna happen (Y/N),” he tried, lacing his fingers with hers for just a quick second and squeezing before having to grab the handle to turn into the Chateau.

The familiar sound of the dirt bike alerted everyone inside to their presence. John B was darting up from his spot on the couch faster than Kie and Pope could even process it. The front door was propelled open against the siding of the house, John B’s eyes narrowing on JJ who was helping his girlfriend off the dirt bike and then unclasping the helmet for her. “You’re fucking joking right now,” John B saw red, anger etched in his entire soul from head to toe. If looks could kill, they’d be dead and buried deep underground. (Y/N) had the thought to at least cover her neck with her hair and then turn away from JJ to confront the fiery brown eyes shooting daggers their way.

“Hey, it’s not what you think JB please. I just came to apologize. We both did,” (Y/N) spoke in a soft tone to relay just how much she meant it. She hadn’t intended for John B to end up as casualty in the process. She truly hadn’t thought at all in the moment. Kie and Pope came out through the front door to stand behind the fuming man next to them as she took a couple of uncertain steps forward. “Yesterday- that’s not what should’ve happened and I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) pleaded with him but the words couldn’t heal a wound of this nature. Especially not with his best friend standing behind her with crossed arms leaning his bum against the bike looking like a pompous asshole. Her words had stung JJ hard after the revelations they had whispered into the dead of the night. It wasn’t intended to come off as regretful but he couldn’t help but take it as that. Lashing out from the burn of her words, he smirked at John B to provoke him instead of keeping a level head.

“Not what I think? Seriously?” John B seethed not even wanting to voice his deplorable thoughts because they’d be too severe and permanent. He took steps forward to be face to face with (Y/N) but still keeping his distance. His blood was sizzling, eyes pitch-black and somehow losing light by the second. If (Y/N) had thought he was furious yesterday, it had nothing on the anger John B felt with the pair in his sight. “I think you’re just a spoiled Kook that came to experiment with us Pogues. Had fun yet? Whoring around?” John B spat as he kept his focus on her. If he dared to look JJ’s way again he might not be able to restrain himself.

(Y/N)’s eyes watered, taking a step back as Kie tried to rest her hand on the tense muscle of John B’s shoulder to diffuse the tension. Maybe in some way she had come to hear his demeaning words. She felt worthy of them. JJ, however, was the complete opposite. He had managed to keep quiet until know, acting on impulse as he sprung up to shield her from the livid man in front of her. He could accept that John B was more than just resentful, but throwing insults (Y/N)’s way was a line he wouldn’t let JB cross. “Watch your fucking mouth John B. You’re just mad that your little game didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to,” JJ bellowed at him matching his rage with an icy glare, knowing exactly what buttons to press before Kie could set out to cool him off.

JB’s arms ripped out of Kie’s grip in a split second decision, thrusting out to shove at his best friends hard chest with flat palms. It sent him falling back but only provoked him more. JJ looked like the devil. His lips curving into a wicked smile, hair tousled by the wind. Blue eyes were dripping with venom. Quicker than JJ could retaliate, (Y/N)’s small, gentle hands caught the back of his arms before he could stumble into her. “J Please,” (Y/N) begged under her breath into the privacy of his muscular back sounding distraught as she grounded him, “this isn’t why we came here.” He did his best to inhale deeply through a clenched jaw, visibly taking breaths from within to calm himself. It was rare to get him to pull away from the blinding fury once he was absorbed by it but he was helpless, in the mercy of her soft heart. Focusing on the delicate way she tried to soothe him by rubbing small circles into his side. It might’ve almost been enough to end the fight but it only set John B into a spiral witnessing the affectionate exchange. It was now the second time he was reminded of the fact that (Y/N) wasn’t the one winding him down.

“You’re worse than me JJ you know that? Luke Maybank’s kid,” John B landed a low blow that visibly made JJ falter, jaw flexing in rage, “Just another delinquent in the works... ,” he drawled out with a closed fist shove of JJ’s shoulder, the tension skyrocketing around them and pricking the hairs on everyone’s skin. “C’mon John B- this is pointless nothing is getting resolved- we can wait till everyone is ready,” Pope was practically begging as he attempted to tug at John B’s arm. But he was strong-willed and unflinching as he stepped forward to be almost chest to chest to JJ. Blue met brown as their eyes locked, everything eerily quiet. “You think she’s gonna want you?” The vindictive words crashed into him. JJ couldn’t stand being compared to Luke. His dad beat his mom and beat him too and JJ swore that would never be him. And knowing that he wasn’t worthy of (Y/N) was one thing, being reminded of it was another.

Except JJ knew exactly how to retaliate.

His muscles loosened as all the tension was released from his body. A lazy, horrific smile appeared on JJ’s face with cold eyes staring him down. It was a look unlike he’d ever given anyone. Kie was almost quivering just from witnessing it, much less did she want to be on the receiving end of it. He’d spent months pining after her, dealing with with his conflicting emotions, watching his best friend be happy and ignoring his own needs for John B’s sake. But JJ wasn’t going to do that anymore, not when it came to her.

So he knew exactly what to say.

And the color in (Y/N)’s face drained as JJ crept a couple of measured steps until he was standing beside her. She knew what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth.

JJ’s fingers trailed over to her hair, flicking it back as he bit his lip to contain the sinister smile. Everyone’s eyes falling on the darkening hickey as (Y/N) felt her cheeks hot, head spinning and eyes blurry with embarrassment and anger.

“Well JB that’s not what she was saying in her bedroom last night. She wanted me a lot..,” JJ chuckled criminally while maintaining a look of pure satisfaction. Making it clear that (Y/N) had not just wanted him, but begged for it. He practically ate up the shock piercing John B’s features. Just to make sure there was no miscommunication, JJ sunk the knife in further for good measure.

“You know.. her bedroom… with those cute glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling?”

It was Kie that gasped before John B reacted. She’d been in (Y/N)’s room plenty of times to know exactly what he was talking about.

Less than a second later, JJ’s jaw made a worrisome cracking noise as John B connected his balled up fist to it. Despite the metallic taste in his mouth, JJ didn’t hesitate to lunge forward and tackle John B to the ground. Both of them snapped, yelling profanities and taking their rage out on the other. He swung blindly, rings jabbing into John B’s abdomen. The taller man winced, before thrusting his knee upwards and digging it into JJ’s chest.

“JJ!”

“John B!”

Both girls kept yelling and risking a hit by trying to get in the middle of them. But it was next to impossible. Pope jumped up to try to intercept but they were both pushed over the edge now. He couldn’t get a single chance through the flying limbs. They had both been stewing in their rage for too long now. John B had been waiting to do this since last night and seeing as he hadn’t been able to because JJ was on Figure Eight, he was only further enraged. “You were my best fucking friend!” John B shouted as he managed to flip JJ onto his back, punching him coldly without measure. (Y/N) cried out and screamed at them, pleading as she watched JJ close his blue eyes. His body went limp, John B holding him up by the grip on his shirt. She recognized what he was doing because she had done the same thing by coming here. They were both looking to assuage their guilt by looking for punishment from the person they had betrayed.

“John B, he isn’t fighting back!” (Y/N) pleaded loudly with a tear-stricken face, catching his wrist before he could swing again. But he was stronger than her, especially fueled by the burning jealousy and wrath at their infidelity. She was no match for him as he landed another hard blow at JJ. “Fight back!” John B yelled into his face but JJ just gave him a lopsided grin, blood snaking it’s way down his chin to his throat and staining the hem of his colar line. He let out a heart-wrenching yell as his fist landed on the grass next to JJ’s head.

Everyone paused.

John B’s heavy breathing broke through the sounds of the crickets.

They just stared at each other while the other looked on. Almost as if they were communicating without saying a word.

Pope decided to use this momentary pause and separate them, latching on to John B’s shoulders to drag him away. It was relatively easy to do considering JB was no longer fighting back. His eyes were swelling with frustration and fury, tears that he was trying to keep in making their way out at an unstoppable pace. Beating JJ to a pulp would be too easy and he wasn’t even getting the satisfaction of the blonde haired guy pushing back. “You were my best friend and you fucked my girlfriend,” he spoke loudly, but more disheartened towards him watching as (Y/N) knelt at his side to check on the bruising eye.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) sobbed to both of them, feeling like this was all her fault. Her fingers swiped softly at the blood pooling under JJ’s busted lip making him wince and her heart tighten. “It’s fine Princess. Takes two to tango remember?” JJ’s voice came out raspy, strained by the pain creeping through his body. His eye squinted, groaning at the uncomfortable throbbing coming from his side. John B had managed to get him quite good but she was right, he wanted to get hit. He wanted to be numb, his guilt could subside knowing that his best friend was able to take out the heartbreak and anger he felt on him.

(Y/N) shook her head though, standing up with the weight of her actions crushing her shoulders. If there was any remedy to this situation, it was to cut herself out of the equation completely. How would they be able to fix anything when just her presence caused these emotions to rupture out of them? She would always be a lingering reminder of their infidelity. Her head tilted to the side, watching Pope and Kie attempt to calm John B. She hadn’t even noticed until now that Kie’s cheeks were as wet as hers. It was just as agonizing to her to see their unit be torn apart. Pope was rattled, feeling powerless to stop them. They had had arguments and fist fights before about nonsense, but nothing this serious. He hadn’t even been able to get in the middle without being injured himself. It was all too much to take in. They were all perfectly fine before she arrived, and now they were more shattered than ever.

JJ observed her features the whole time, was privy to the way she detached herself emotionally to save the rest of them. But he didn’t want her to. He was selfish and greedy, willing to beg John B for forgiveness the rest of his life if it meant that (Y/N) didn’t run away. “(Y/N), hey,” his voice was still rough, but there was an edge of distress. She couldn’t take sole blame for the eruption their behavior had caused. But nothing he could say would really change her mind. There was a distant look in her eye when she focused on him.

He couldn’t even get another word out before she was turning her back to him walking away from them, from her life. Her shoulders were shaking, the reality of her consequences settling in. Her hand moved to cover her silent choked sob, free arm wrapping around herself to grace herself with some comfort. JJ wouldn’t give up on her without putting forth effort though. A beating he could take. Letting her slip through his fingers was something he couldn’t afford. Not when he finally had her.

Had her smiling and laughing at his stupid jokes. He could still hear her sweet giggling in his ear. See the heart-melting smile taking over her alluring features. Had seen her sleeping serenely in the coziness of her insanely overpriced California king, lips parted with a little bit of drool sneaking out. He’d had the privilege of bathing with her, exploring every luxurious inch of skin while quelling the ache in her bones. She had washed his damn hair. The feeling of her careful fingers on him in such an innocent yet intimate moment still drove him mad. The scent of her fruity cshampoo resided, mixing in with the dirt covering his backside as an encouragement to follow her.

“(Y/N), stop,” JJ managed to get out as he stood up at the same time holding his side with one hand where it seemed to hurt the most. The girl didn’t listen to him though, she kept walking with more intent to distance herself. The others were looking on but nothing else was said. John B turned around, refusing to watch any longer as he went back into his home to bitterly find the First Aid Kit. Kie wanted to step toward JJ to check on him but he rushed off, walking as fast he could to reach (Y/N). Pope placed a hand on Kie’s shoulder sighing before nudging her inside. Nothing would be resolved within two days.

(Y/N) ignores his voice calling out to her, shutting out every emotion related to JJ possible. She could return to her ice queen status, embody it once more to bury the agony and enter a state of desolation. But he was persistent, walking after her even as she got further and further away from the house. “(Y/N),” JJ’s voice was calm from behind her but she shook her head trying to will away the oncoming rampage of tears. They had started from the moment the boys started throwing fists and now they had a life of their own. “Hey- I.. I can take you home, you don’t have to walk or get a ride,” JJ tried to pull her back to him by any means but she stopped dead in her tracks. He hadn’t even realizing he was gaining on her until almost running into her when she came to a halt.

“No JJ. Don’t you get it?” she asked without hesitancy as she shifted to face him. JJ saw nothing in her eyes, no glint or glimmer, no hope for their possible future. “We can’t see each other anymore. We hurt people when we’re together JJ,” (Y/N) was stoic, refusing to instill JJ with any false hope. There was no world where they could be an item. Where they could cuddle in front of their friends. Go on double dates. Marry with a best man if it came down to that. As much as she wanted to let go of everything and melt into his stupidly perfect lips, she remained passive. Refusing to acknowledge the love she so obviously felt for him and choosing to endure the pain that would no doubt find a permanent home within her. (Y/N) locked it all away, tucking it deep into a place where it couldn’t reach her.

JJ’s Adam’s apple bobbed while his nose scrunched up, shaking his head in refusal. He looked off into the distance before meeting her stare. His throat felt dry, constricting from the fear accumulating the more she pulled away. “It’s not just sex to me (Y/N),” JJ repeated the words from last night, watching as something flashed through her eyes. “I meant that. And you meant what you said. About you wanting me,” JJ reminded taking a shaky step forward before saying fuck all and reaching his hands up to cradle (Y/N)’s cheeks in his hand. He gave her a torturously sad smile, fingers tracing the lines of her cheekbone. “You remember, last night in the bathtub too. I know you do,” he whispered, coming in closer to her, enveloping her senses.

He almost had her for a moment, (Y/N)’s brain cells mushing when he admitted that he did remember his late night confession. JJ’s pure vulnerability and the slightly forceful grip on her cheeks allowed her to rethink for a moment, consider the possibility that they could somehow fix this together. Her own admission had been a forthcoming revelation. More than JJ could’ve imagined when he brought it up. His blue eyes pierced through her, shaky hand gripping at his wrist. It was overwhelming, almost suffocating to be tempted in such a way. Her eyes closed. Knowing the way he was silently begging her every way possible would make her cave.

“It was sex… I was horny and you were too,” (Y/N) didn’t feel like she was in her body as the words came out. Her voice monotone and quiet. He was close enough for her to not have to yell it out. “This was nothing,” she continued even as she felt his hands drop from her face. It was daunting, so much so that she refused to see the destruction she was surely executing. Her heart was close to vanishing, entire body going numb. Not only was she losing a second person in the span of twenty four hours, but she was also losing her person. The one person she thinks might’ve been meant for her.

But JJ needed her to face it. He needed her to take in every single aspect of what this meant. (Y/N) wasn’t just taking a break from them, she was leaving. Closing the chapter on their summer together and ending something that had just barely gotten started. “Nothing? I think you’re a liar,” JJ’s temper was rising with her, loathing how she could let her overthinking take control of her life. “I think we’ve both known it since the moment we met. This is real and you’re just fucking scared,” his voice raised, finally showing his disdain for her choices.

(Y/N) dared to open her eyes which was something she’d regret till the end of time. JJ’s face had completely fallen. Her insides twisted, knotting and curling until she wanted to turn around and let out all the contents in her stomach. Which were actually none but eating right now sounded like a joke. The light in his blue irises that attracted (Y/N) to him in the first place had dimmed now. Disrupted by her hasty disregard. His lips were in a thin line, hands balled at his sides, chest rising and falling with every excruciating breath. It took everything inside of her to turn her heart to stone. Telling herself it was for the best.

“I’m sorry JJ,” she finalized the conversation.

Turning away from him and putting this singular moment behind herself.

Allowing herself to believe that they would be better off without her meddling.

The flood resumed down her cheeks now that he couldn’t see her disappearing into the following street. In the very back of (Y/N)’s mind, the little spot reserved for JJ, she still wished he’d chase her once more. Nudge her his way with his electrifying touch, kiss her until it felt like there was a volcano erupting inside of her. She’d say yes to the ride this time. She’d allow him to hold her in bed and soak his shirt with her tears. Even stay the night and every night after for as long as he needed to.

But none of that happened.

There were no footsteps besides her rapidly paced ones. (Y/N) wanted to say she was relieved, but it felt more like the entire universe had disintegrated. Her lungs felt like they were tied and knotted with rope, only able to take shallow breaths. A choice that took her all of two seconds before she was regretting had transformed everything.

If (Y/N) had thought any of this would be easy, the red baseball cap perched on top of her grey chair sent her into another meltdown, knees buckling to the ground with no one to catch her this time.

She’d lost them all.

*****

Read Part 1 here

Feedback/Thoughts welcomed in my inbox! x

If you’d like to be tagged in future posts of this mini-series please join my taglist here🫶🏼

A/N: I’ve literally never written blood play or subspace so I hope I did it justice😭 Don’t know what got into me but possessive JJ is just everything😩

I have another work in my drafts but it’s an anon request so part 3 will be coming later on❤️

Thank you so much for reading whether you came for the smut or plot😭😂! Please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed it!💕

John B’s Mini Series Tags: @fishingirl12 @sweetlikerockcandy @imtired0811

General Tags: @dropperyourhnd @leclercch16 @kys4-20

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x cameron #jj maybank x kook!reader #john b routledge x reader #john b x reader #john b routledge x kook #john b routledge #john b x kook!reader #outer banks smut #outer banks #obx fanfiction #obx #jj obx #obx fic #jj maybank smut #outer banks fluff #outer banks fic #jj maybank dark smut #soft!dom jj maybank #jj maybank x y/n #john b routledge x you #outer banks angst #jj x reader #jj smut

[koemiexists]

Hey! Can I get dom!Lucifer x fem! Reader pretty pls? Like I love him being a sub, but I don't think there's enough smut of him being a dom 🙏🏽

Accidentally Taking Souls

summary: you accidentally sold your soul to lucifer, and he accidentally accepted it. it only happens every one in twelve million five hundred fifty seven thousand souls! which also means, you're the first. tags: PANIC ATTACK, comfort, biting, porn with plot basically, not very good friends, dom!lucifer, drunken confessions, but not DRUNKEN sex, choking (consensual), fingering, breeding kink, surprise at the end word count: 4k a/n: this was already sorta on my to-do list, a lucifer x reader shot, then alastor x reader x lucifer shot, but it also fit your ask so !! apologies for delays :) i'm getting to them (a bit slowly...)

Truthfully, you weren’t religious. Your mother had always been, however. She would drag you to church, and make you pray almost all the time. Once you moved out for college, you never looked back.

When she died, she left nothing to you, but a single slip of paper. ‘Don’t sin.’

You truly didn’t care at that point, you didn’t believe in everything she had spewed, and continued to warn you about, even in death. 

She had always warned you about your friends, telling you that they were demons who had risen from Hell to make you sin. It was truly baffling for her to spout her nonsense, especially in front of your friends themselves.

And yet, those very same friends were on your living room floor, staring at you with various smiles of pure delight.

“You want me to do what?”

“It’s not a want, (Name)... It’s a dare.”

You groaned; you were tired of this. “Why are you daring me to sell my soul? To the devil?”

One of your friends just smirked. “He’s not real, right? You shouldn’t have a problem.”

Blinking, you just took a deep breath, and shrugged your shoulders. “You’re right.” You said simply, and sat down.

One of the girls had unfurled from her position on the floor, digging into her bag. “Here.” She started, beginning to take out various things. “I can help you!”

You furrowed your eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “I don’t just say ‘have my soul devil’?”

“Damn (Name), I didn’t expect you to be that dumb.” She joked, bringing a needle to your hand. “No, it doesn’t go like that. If the deal is accepted, you’ll be in Hell.... maybe. That’s what the occult book told me.” She shrugged, pricking your finger, and dropping blood messily. “I just have to draw some runes...”

After the entire ordeal was over, especially the disastrous game of truth and dare, you retired for the night, concluding that you didn’t want to be up any longer and overthink what just happened.

Your friends had cheerily bid you goodbye, and you had waved them away, telling the group you’ll talk to them in a few days.

The last thing you could remember was the pleasant feeling of your sheets, and the cool squishmallow in your arms.

You awoke slowly, you felt as if you were drifting away... and then you felt someone poke at you. 

Dismissing it, you turned away, until it registered in your head. Someone poked you.

You lived alone.

Jolting up in your bed, you looked around. There was a man towering you, grinning sheepishly. You let out a yell, keeping your plushie close to you as you kicked off the sheets covering you, falling off the bed.

Except that didn’t make sense, because your bed was just a mattress on the floor! It was close to the ground, and yet you dropped a good few inches from the ground.

Fear was coursing through your veins, and you felt an overwhelming sense of dread, followed by a serene calmness- but your adrenaline was still pumping, and your inner voice was screaming at you to get up, run run run run run RUN!

You jolted, trying to maneuver yourself to get up and start running away except when you glanced down you started to scream because of your skin tone-- it was a weird hue, definitely not natural, definitely not yours.

“Hey! Calm down- girl- fuck- bitch, calm down!” You let out a hiccup as your eyes flickered from your hands to the man. He seemed to be fiddling with something, before dropping it and orienting you. 

“Sorry,” He huffed, and you managed to get a good look at him. His skin was milky white, and he had platinum blonde hair that was swooped locks. You looked away again, and he gently put you back on the bed. “Don’t fall off again.”

You sniffled, nodding. “Shit.... I don’t even know how this happened. Usually this is when people sell their souls... but I never...” He paused his pacing and muttering, turning to you.

Your hair was obstructing your face as you stared down at your lap, but when he approached you, you instantly stared at him. “Did you sell your soul... to me?”

“You aren’t the Devil.” You said instantly, before clapping a hand over your mouth. “I-”

The man just laughed. “No, you can call me Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.” He smirked, his grin wide and toothy as he looked at you with lidded vermillion eyes. “The ruler of Hell.”

You stared, mouth ajar.

And then laughed, boisterous and teetering to purely unsettling.

Lucifer stared at you as you laughed, and laughed... and wait-! No, you were still laughing.

“What’s so funny?” He huffed, a hand on his hip as you still was chuckling, tears in your eyes.

“Okay, I’m having a crazy lucid dream!” You snorted, and searched for a clock, staring at it intensely.

Lucifer cocked his head. “What are you doing?”

“Weird.” You muttered, staring at the clock even more. Why weren't the hands going haywire? Why was it normal? 

You turned your eyes to your hands, studying it. It was... fine. Nothing was abnormal besides the fact your skin was a different color. You felt yourself panicking again, and you closed your eyes, willing for something different to happen.

Your panic began to increase dramatically as you heaved, tearing up as you looked at the clock again. You tried to take in breaths, but it was hard to even register that your lungs were burning.

Hands were gripping your wrists. You felt sick. Your head was pounding, and you knew you had to be yelling, because your throat ached and was scratchy. You could barely see, but you kept thrashing. 

After a while, you felt all your energy zapped from you, you just slumped, sniffling and trying to catch your breath. Blearily, you watched as a muddled version of Lucifer appeared in front of you, looking you over.

“Ok?” He whispered, and you blinked slowly, tilting your head at him slowly. “Is- Did you settle? Uhm. Are you a bit okay now?”

You shrugged, and he wiped your tears, gently gathering you in his arms. His limber figure made his way to what appeared to be a bathroom, and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge bathtub. On the sides were a bunch of rubber ducks.

Lucifer gave you a mischievous look as he placed you down after stripping you down to your underwear, running the water warm. 

“I made them.” He said, placing only certain ones in the water. “Some of these definitely cannot go in.” He moved a light blue one off to the side. “It produces voltage,” Lucifer explained, getting some bubble bath soap, and pouring it over the running water. In an instant, bubbles began to form around you.

You gave him a look. Because, really? Voltage duck?

He pouts a little. “I just... I made them.... Why not? It’s entertaining!”

You don’t know how creating ducks can be entertaining.

Lucifer gave a huge dramatic sigh, pushing his hair back, and bemoaned your inability to see how delightful his ducks were.

“You’re weird,” You uttered, your voice extremely scratchy. Lucifer winced, and quickly whirled his hand, a water bottle appearing. 

“Here,” He said, motioning the water. “It’s cold.” It was cold. “Icy too.” Okay... “Maybe even...” You looked at him, as the water in your mouth began to get colder. “Pure ice.” Your mouth was beginning to get cold, really quickly. “Haha- sorry, bad prank?” Would it even be classified as a prank? More of an inconvenience, especially with how parched you were.

You stared at him silently, drinking more of the cold water that he provided. “So... I’m dead?” You whispered, glancing down at the bubbly surface. 

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t expect to go to Hell so soon.” You muttered, looking around inconspicuously. It was very grand, fit for a king indeed.

Lucifer furrowed his brows, confused at your statement. “You knew you were going to Hell?”

You smiled gently. “Never listened to my mom. Super religious. Wasn’t my style.”

He hummed in response, and helped you finish cleaning up. You felt tired afterwards, and just wanted to sleep now that everything was done. Lucifer led you to a guest bedroom, sprucing up the surroundings a little. He gently tucked you in, and you gave a small noise of appreciation. 

“I’ll show you around, later.”

You yawned, nodding.

“My daughter...” He had a daughter? “She has a hotel.”

“Mmm.”

Lucifer smiled at your sleepy sounds. “Supposed to redeem sinners.” 

You turned over, groaning. “Go away... I don’t care...” You slurred, sleep clouding your head like a fog. “Ngh... wait.” You blinked rapidly, turning back to Lucifer. “What?”

He smirked. “Redemption of sinners?” He repeated, giving you a teasing look.

“Is it possible?!”

Lucifer inhaled. “I... don’t know. Maybe? I just like to support my daughter’s dreams.” He pauses. “Even if it’s a bit far-fetched, she believes in it.” Another huge pregnant pause. “If it does work, you won’t become a human, you’ll just be an angel.”

You turned away again. “Ugh.” 

He snorted, and fixed your blankets. “Goodnight,” He crooned, placing a small rubber duck on your dresser. “You have to wake up really early tomorrow!”

He cackled when you just groaned.

After a few days of living like this, Lucifer deemed you ready to meet his daughter. When you inquired why before you couldn’t he just muttered about some sinner that would rip you to shreds. You didn’t really understand, but he seemed to hate that one sinner with a passion, so your questioning didn’t continue past that.

He led you to a huge building that had the words Hazbin Hotel in big letters at the top. You glanced at the infrastructure, cringing at some of the design choices. It was surely unique, although you knew it definitely needed some sprucing up.

“It’s pretty,” Was all that came out of your mouth. Lucifer gave you a half-hearted noise of acknowledgement, ringing the bell. You heard light footsteps, and as soon as the door began to open, Lucifer burst past it.

“CHARLIE!”

“Hi dad...”

You shifted from foot to foot, waiting for them to see you. “Oh!” There they go. “Sorry, sorry! Uh- how are you? What’s your name?” Charlie began to babble, leading you inside with gentle hands. “I’m Charlie!”

Lucifer was right by your side again, causing you to stumble. “(Name),” You offered weakly, gaining your balance again as Lucifer began to chuckle lowly next to you. “I...”

“She’s with me,” Lucifer said smoothly, smirking. “I have a favor to ask of you, Char-Char.”

Her attention was instantly on her father, head cocked to the side barely, questioning.

“She... accidentally sold her soul to me.” He started off slowly, and Charlie gave him a weird look. 

“So? She shouldn’t be here unless you accept... Dad!” She yelled out at the end, and Lucifer winced. “How did you accidentally accept a soul??”

He groaned. “By accident, of course! Listen Charlie-”

“That poor girl-”

You looked back and forth tiredly, before clearing your throat. “What’s done is done,” You started, glaring at Lucifer lightly. “Besides, Luci has been helping me get accustomed to my new world. But we were hoping you knew how to redeem sinners so I can be redeemed.”

Charlie began to shift nervously. “Well- we don’t have a set method.”

You stared at her.

“We don’t have one sinner who’s been redeemed... yet.”

“Yet.” You parroted, giving her a blank look. 

She bit her lip lightly. “Yes, yet. I’m sorry (Name), we are only just starting and I know being in Hell was a mistake.”

You felt numb, and can only barely register how Lucifer had lifted you up, pulling you away and whispering apologies against you. “Sorry,” He murmured, and you let out a soft sigh due to his hand on your scalp. “I’m so sorry, I thought she would have found a way already...”

“No need to apologize,” You huffed, blinking away unshed tears as he calmed you down. You still felt extremely upset, but it wasn’t truly anyone's fault.

Lucifer gave you an apologetic look still, before putting you down. You looked around, blinking. “Where are we?”

“Guest room,” Lucifer replied, fixing the sheets as you gained your bearings. The couch was ratty, with small tears on the cushions; the back of it was dingy, yet when you moved, it stayed steady despite the obvious damages.

You got up, and he motioned to the bed, smiling at you gently. “Want to sleep? It’s getting a bit late already.”

Confused, you gave him an inquiring look. He smiled sheepishly, motioning to the clock. “It’s the evening, I think your perception is a bit skewed...”

Right, your outburst. “Sorry,” You said, feeling guilty.

Lucifer just waved you off. “Do you want to sleep?” He asked, and you shook your head, looking at the door.

“Is there a place to get a drink?” You just wanted to get drunk, if you were being honest.

He hummed. “There’s a bartender, apparently.” He replied, taking your hand into his. “Steady,” He spoke lowly, as you stumbled a bit, letting him lead you down the hall. 

You both made it to the bar, where you practically threw yourself at the stool, asking the bartender, apparently named Husk, to make you a strong drink.

He merely grunted in acknowledgment, turning away to start mixing it. Lucifer grinned toothily at you, before he turned around to go be with his daughter.

One drink turned into two, then into three, and before you knew it you were seven drinks in, and you were giggling with Angel, a patron at the hotel. 

“You’re really,” You paused, hiccuping due to how fast you drank your last shot. “Really interesting, Angel.” Your words were slurred, and almost hard to decipher. Angel, however, understood you completely considering he was also tremendously drunk. 

“Thank you, sweet thing.” He smirked, his gold tooth glittering in the light as he moved closer to you. He smelled like artificial fruits, and you wrinkled your nose in distaste, bile swirling right beneath your esophagus. “So, Short king is with ya?”

You nod, still fighting the urge to retch at the stench of his perfume. “Uhn, yeah, he is. I, uhm... made a deal with him, apparently,” You slurred, pausing almost every word you said. “Sorry, your perfume smells gross.”

Angel rolled his eyes, throwing two of his hands up. “Ugh! Val made me wear it for today’s shoot-” 

“Why?” You nearly whined, scooting backwards as Angel began to spray a different perfume. 

He sighed. “I work sex, babe.” When you cocked your head to the side, he began to rephrase his drunken words. “I’m a porn star.”

You flushed at that, and shrugged lightly. “Each to their own I guess...”

Humming, Angel brought another drink to his mouth, downing it in one go. “On the topic of sex,” He slurred, smirking as Lucifer slowly approached you two. “Who would you have sex with here? Based on appearance.” He hiccuped.

“Lucifer is super hot,” You giggled, biting your lip lightly as you stood up, swaying at your spot. “I wouldn’t mind having him fuck me, I need a good pound.” You dissolved into light giggles, finding the idea of fucking the ruler of Hell amusing, getting him worked up by a lowly sinner...

You yelped when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight. “Don’t squirm,” Lucifer said lightly, raising his hand to stroke your hair. “I’m taking you to bed. You’re drunk.”

“I’m not,”

A laugh came from in front of you, and you glared at Angel as he smiled even wider, smug. “Bye, (Name). Remember to not gag-!”

His voice was cut off as light swarmed your vision. You shut your eyes tight, feeling your stomach roll in pain as your surroundings became the guest room. “Hngh,” You whined, collapsing onto the bed. “Mm, Luci...”

Lucifer stroked your head as you chugged the water he gave, before he ushered you to bed to sleep the liquor off.

Your eyes were shut the instant he had dropped your head back on the pillow.

When you awoke, your head instantly began to pound, before tapering off to a light throbbing. You blinked, and turned to look to the side where the warmth was radiating. “Hi,” Lucifer smiled at you, his expression sleepy as his wings stretched from his back. “You’re awake.”

“And hungover,” You groaned, rubbing at your temples.

You screeched when your wrists were pinned above your head, and Lucifer was on top of you, straddling your hips. In this position, with you staring up at him, he truly did look angelic. His hair was messy, strewed in different directions. The glow from the light on a dresser behind him illuminated certain visible parts of him to you, and it just gave him such an ethereal glow.

You sucked a breath in as he shifted, his wings spreading out from his back, and you could almost imagine that golden halo on top of his head right now.

“Do you want this?” He uttered, voice deep with sleep and slightly gravelly. Arousal bloomed in your abdomen as you nodded quickly. “Words, ducky.” 

“Yes.” You nearly whined, and he grinned, teeth all showing.

He practically pounced after that, ripping your bottoms off, and instantly his claws were at your underwear, shredding it with a flick of his wrist. Lucifer let out a growling noise as he leaned into you, thrusting a single finger into your awaiting cunt.

Slick was dripping down his hand after a few thrusts, messy and almost disgusting as wet slapping sounds quickly reverberated throughout the bedroom. 

“Dripping, all for me?” He teased, beginning to lightly rub your clit with his thumb as he nipped at your neck and chest. “I just need to put my claim on you.”

You moaned, shaking at his ministrations. “Bite me,” You whispered softly before you broke on a high pitch whimper. 

His teeth gleamed as he smirked at you, before surging forward to bite you right between your shoulder and neck, his sharp teeth digging deep into your skin before he pulled away.

You let out a sob at the pain, then a moan as he sped up with his fingers. “Sorry,” He said, guilt filling his voice slightly as he looked at you with lidded eyes. You weakly watch as he gently moves his other hand over the bleeding wound as the pain eased into slight numbing.

“I liked it,” You murmured, kissing him again, and biting his lip as you rolled your hips into his hand. 

He let out an indistinguishable noise, before he thrusted his hand deep in you, watching as you came all over his hand, liquid shooting all over his arm.

“Good?” He asked, kissing you softly, before pulling away, licking at his fingers that were soaked in your release.

You nod, smiling as he beamed lightly at you. Moving slightly, you pulled your legs up, leaving your cunt more exposed for him. “Take me, Luci.” You had whined, cunt fluttering at the thought of his cock in you.

Lucifer flushed, his cheeks becoming a darker ruddy color, as he took off his pants. His thick cock slapped his thigh, and both of you giggled at the noise. “Sorry,” He laughed lightly, but you just shook your head smiling.

“It’s okay to be a bit silly, Luci.” You had said quietly, breath hitching as he entered you.

Lucifer sank deep into your cunt, inhaling sharply as you squeezed him. You had yet to indicate you wanted him to move, inhaling and exhaling lightly as you eased up around him.

You nodded, but he still hadn’t moved. His face was extremely red as he stayed still, his breath labored. You furrowed your eyebrows, moving slightly as your cunt squeezed then relaxed around him. “Luci, are you o-”

Before you could finish your sentence, he pulled almost fully out, his flushed tip just barely stretching your cunt. You looked up at him as he shoved his cock inside again, slamming into you. “Mm- Lucifer-” You tried to speak, but he just kissed you, your tongues entwining as small noises of pleasure emitted from you.

He pulled away, panting as his hair became more messed up from his movements. “Want me to stop?” He paused, to see what you needed.

You growled lightly, wrapping your legs around his waist and bucking your hips. He let out a small yelp, grasping your hips in a bruising manner. “Okay!” He kissed you, and slammed into you again. “Okay, you want me that badly huh? My pretty baby. All wet and slick for m-”

He paused as he was pulling out when you let out a whimper. “Daddy,” You had said quietly, nearly inaudibly.

“What?”

You flushed this time, looking off to the side as you worried your lip between your teeth. “Sorry, I...”

Lucifer gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and when you snapped your head to look at him, he smirked, gently squeezing, before his grip became lax again. When you nodded, indicating you were okay with it, he grinned. 

“My girl, all wet for her daddy. Such a slut for me, aren’t you? When we fuck, ducky, you look at me. When I kiss you, you think about me. When I impregnate you, you look at me. Understood?”

You wailed in pleasure, cunt gripping his thick cock. “Yes daddy! I understand,” You blabbed, and you took a deep inhale right as Lucifer squeezed your neck.

“Do you even deserve to be fucked by me?” He asked, rubbing your clit lightly. As you began to teeter over the edge, he stopped all movements, looking at you. “I asked you a question.”

You heaved, gripping at his hand. “N-no,” You choked out, and he released his grip, kissing your neck. “Daddy,” You whimpered, watching as Lucifer pulled away to adjust your position. He had your lower half fully bent now, your knees nearly touching the bed as he grasped your waist, shoving his cock back inside you.

Screaming at the new found spot he hit, you began to earnestly moan, loud noises coming from your mouth as every thrust he made hit your sweet spot perfectly. “Ah- ah!” You bit your lip, causing it to bleed. Lucifer leaned in, sucking your lip into his mouth, before he caught your mouth in an open kiss, licking at your tongue.

“Good girl,” He purred, shoving his thick cock deeper and deeper inside you. “I’m going to make you into a mommy, do you want to be a mother? For me?” You felt your orgasm approach as you nodded, whimpering at the idea of your belly becoming swollen with a child.

He kissed you, and you bit his lip as you came, your legs shaking as you inhaled deeply, jerking at the aftershocks as Lucifer continued to thrust, pace off. Jackhammering into you for another moment, he stopped, his cock deep inside you as he groaned, cum coating your walls.

You felt gross, but he merely gently rubbed at the small bulging in your lower abdomen, sighing. “Good?” He inquired, kissing your cheek.

“Good,” You confirmed, beaming tiredly.

A month had passed, and you were chatting idly with Charlie.

“So,” You started, smiling lightly. “I have news.”

She grabbed your hands, eyes bright. “What is it? Oh! Did you find someone to stay at the hotel? Did you find some staff? Is there some news happening in Pentagram City? Wait! Let me guess, did a new restaurant open up-”

You laughed, calming her down as you smiled cheekily. “No, not any of that.” Pausing as Lucifer went up to sit by you. “Me and Luci,” You started, glancing at him. “Are expecting.”

Charlie froze. “Huh? Expecting what? A package?”

Lucifer grinned widely, as his daughter slowly began to understand. “You’re going to be a big sister, Char-Char!”

#marking kink #breeding k1nk #pwp #reader insert #fluff #smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #oneshot #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic #pregnant #plot

[babybluebex]

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐭 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you meet steve and nancy’s new baby and can’t help but notice eddie acting strange. once you finally get the truth out of him— that he wants a baby with you— you can’t help but share the fantasy. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: SMUT (minors dni), cream pie, praise kink, breeding kink, slight degradation kink, use of “mama” and “daddy” (not sexually, though), baby content, i named steve and nancy’s baby amelia bc why not 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: inspired by and beta’d by @cherrycordial98, thank you bobbie for giving me this tasty rotisserie chicken hehe

“Aw, Stevie!” you cooed. “She’s so beautiful!”

The baby in your arms cooed back at you and sputtered her pert little pink lips, and you smiled widely. It had been several weeks since Steve and Nancy had their first baby— Nugget, as they called her before she was born, and has since been named Amelia— but you never had been able to meet her until then. She truly was a beautiful little baby, fat pink cheeks and wispy dark hair and her father’s big brown eyes, and you pouted playfully as you laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

“She looks like her mom,” Steve said, and Nancy rolled her eyes. 

“With those eyes, she looks more like you,” Nancy told Steve, and baby Amelia grabbed at your pinkie with her tiny little hand. 

“She’s definitely got Daddy’s hair,” you chuckled. You looked over beside you, to Eddie, and you laughed as you saw him on the far end of the couch, seemingly cowering from the baby. You had, in his defense, dragged him here against his will and forced him to interact with Amelia, and it was no surprise to you that he didn’t want to hold her. Eddie was weird around kids to begin with, and babies were definitely not his forté, but he was acting especially weird about Amelia. You wanted to ask him about it, but you also didn’t want to do it in front of Steve and Nancy, so you made a mental note to ask later.

“Ed, you wanna say hi?” Steve asked, and Eddie’s wide eyes locked onto you and Amelia. 

“I’m good,” Eddie chirped sharply, and Nancy rolled her eyes. “I-I can appreciate her from over here.” 

“She’s not gonna puke on you or anything,” you told your boyfriend with a laugh. “She’s just the sweetest little thing. Aren’t you, little girl? Aren’t you the sweetest thing?” 

Amelia cooed again, a cute smile on her face, and her grip tightened on your pinkie. 

“Holy shit,” you laughed, lightly tugging your hand away. “She’s got some grip strength, doesn’t she?” 

“Yeah!” Steve chuckled. “She’s so much stronger than I thought babies could be. But she’s so cute, so it’s fine if she crushes my finger.” 

“She’s adorable,” you nodded, and you looked at Eddie again. He was still watching you and Amelia closely, his owlish eyes open fully and unblinking, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “You okay, Eds?”

“Fine,” Eddie answered quickly. “Um, Steve, bathroom?” 

“Down the hall, man,” Steve said slowly, jerking his thumb in the direction of said hallway, and Eddie was quick to stand up and escape, the chain on his jeans jingling as he walked. You and Steve and Nancy all waited until you heard the door close, and Nancy looked at you with confusion etched all over her face. 

“What the hell was that?” she asked. 

You shrugged, bouncing Amelia lightly in your arms as she gurgled. “I have no idea,” you said softly. “Eddie’s not too into kids and stuff, but I’ve never seen him like this.” 

“You don’t think it has anything to do with us?” Steve asked. 

“I don’t think so,” you replied. “I mean, you’re his best friend, and Nancy’s mine; I don’t think it has anything to do with it being your baby. I mean, anything bad. Maybe he’s like ‘oh shit, our friends have a baby’.”

“Does Eddie want kids?” Nancy asked, and you sighed heavily.

“I don’t know,” you said. “We haven’t really talked about it. I always assumed no, just because he typically doesn’t like kids, but… I have no idea. Maybe he does, and he’s having, like, a revelation crisis in your bathroom.” 

Nancy stepped closer to you and scooped Amelia into her arms, and you rubbed your palms nervously on your knees. “Should I go talk to him?” you asked. 

“Might be worth a shot,” Steve shrugged. 

You watched Nancy and baby Amelia for a moment more before you stood up, and you carefully moved down the hallway to the closed bathroom door. It was quiet on the other side of the door, practically no sign of Eddie, and you sighed and placed your palm flat against the door. “Eds?” you said gently. “Everything okay in there?” 

It was quiet for a moment, then Eddie’s voice floated from the other side. “Yeah,” he said, but you knew better. 

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” you asked. “Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me.” 

More silence. Then: “Nothing’s wrong. I just can’t tell you here. Or now. Wait until we get home, then I’ll tell you.” 

“I—” you started. “Eddie, sweetheart, are you feeling okay?” 

“I feel…” Eddie started. “Weird. I’ll tell you later, when Steve and Nancy aren’t around with that baby.” 

“Well…” you started. “Steve and Nancy aren’t here right now. Could you maybe tell me now? I’m just worried about you, sweetheart.”

It was quiet for a long moment, but then the door creaked open an inch to show a sliver of Eddie’s body. He was quiet as he gestured for you to come into the bathroom with him, and you stepped inside quickly. Eddie sighed heavily once the door shut, and he hoisted himself to sit on the counter again. “Alright,” he said. “So, yeah, I’m not a huge fan of kids. Babies. The whole thing scares me. I don’t know why, but kids really make me nervous. I guess, like, because I don’t know how to act with them.”

“Well, Eds, that’s totally okay,” you told him. “Not everyone is good with kids, and just because you’re a little anxious around Amelia doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”

“That’s not all,” Eddie said quickly. Obviously it wasn’t; his face was turning pink, his ears tinting vermillion, and you knew that he had more to say. “I would’ve held her. I wanted to hold her, but I couldn’t…”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Because I wanted to keep watching you hold her,” Eddie said. He took a deep breath then, and he added, “You were so good with her, and you looked so… I can’t explain it, but you looked beautiful holding that baby. It got me thinking about what would happen if we had a baby…”

Your heart rammed itself up into your throat, and you mumbled, “Oh. Eddie—”

“I know we haven’t really talked about that,” Eddie interjected, his brown eyes widening. “And, like, I never really thought about it until right now, but I think… I don’t know, this would totally be on you, because, duh, but I think I might want a baby with you.” 

That shocked you silent. You grappled for words as you tried to make sense of what Eddie was telling you, and you finally uttered, “Really? Like, really?”

“I know it seems stupid,” Eddie mumbled, his gaze falling down into his lap. He kicked his feet a little as you watched him similarly fight for the words to express his thoughts, and he muttered out, “And, like, maybe it is. But just seeing you with Steve’s baby, seeing you be so good with her, it… I don’t know. My chest felt all funny and it was hard to breathe. I couldn’t help but imagine that being our baby that you were holding and kissing and loving-on. And I got… It’s dumb. I got a little turned on thinking about it.”

“Eds,” you said softly. “None of that is dumb or stupid. That’s— That’s sweet. Do you want kids, or do you just like seeing me with a baby?”

“I think I want kids with you,” Eddie said. “I mean, think about it. A tiny little baby, my eyes and your nose, cooing so sweet in your arms. Just like Amelia, but she’s ours. She’s a product of our love. Doesn’t that sound so… I don’t know… Right?” 

“It does,” you said. “But, Eddie, I don’t know, this seems really sudden.”

“Well, I mean, I only figured out that this is something I want, like, five minutes ago,” Eddie chuckled lightly. “This is sudden for me too. But, umm… What’re your thoughts here?”

You leaned against the counter next to Eddie, digging your fingernails into your thighs, and he started, “I… I won’t lie, it seems like a really bad idea. I mean… Eddie, we’re so young—”

“Not anymore than Steve and Nancy,” Eddie argued. 

“And we haven’t been together for nearly as long as Steve and Nancy have,” you added. “It just seems so… Quick. Are you sure?”

“I love you,” Eddie uttered, lifting his head from looking at his lap to look at you. “And just because I say I want kids doesn’t mean we have to start on it now. Like, maybe it can be one of those ‘someday’ things. Like, y’know, someday we’ll have a baby.” 

You chewed your lip as you thought about it, collecting everything that was floating around your mind, and you finally said, “Would it be so bad if we did start now?” 

Eddie looked at you with his eyebrows raised in surprise. “What’re you saying?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. It was your turn to anxiously look at your lap, and you picked at a thread on your sweater as you muttered, “I mean, you make a lot of good points. Maybe a baby would be… I don’t know, there’s so much that makes me wanna say no, but there’s one thing that makes me wanna say yes, and it, like, feels so much more important than everything telling me no.”

“What is it?” Eddie asked. He jumped off of the counter and turned to you, and he gently spread your knees to slot his body between your thighs. His hands skated up your warm legs to your waist, and he held you close as he whispered, “Tell me, baby, what’re you thinking about?” 

“I’m thinking about you holding a baby,” you said softly. “Our baby. A little baby with your everything, hair and eyes and laugh. It’s kinda driving me crazy now that I’ve thought about it.”

“Now you see what I mean,” Eddie said with a smile. “You wanna try for a baby?”

You sighed heavily. “Maybe,” you said. “We can certainly practice, but I think I need a little more time to really be certain.” 

“That’s good enough for me,” Eddie said, and he leaned forward and kissed you. His mouth was warm as his lips moved over yours, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss as he pulled your hips closer to his. 

Before you could sling your arms around Eddie’s neck and pull him closer, there was a solid knock from the other side of the door. “You two alright in there?” Steve called through the door. “You’ve been talking for a while.” 

“We’re fine,” Eddie replied. “We’re making a baby in here.”

“Eddie!” you gasped, and you lightly hit his chest as he grinned at you. “We’re not doing that! We’re just talking, we’ll be out in a minute.” 

Eddie chuckled lightly and buried his face in your neck, and he whispered, “I think I wanna go hold that baby.” 

You left the bathroom with Eddie’s hand in yours, and, when he reentered the living room, where Nancy held Amelia, he had a spring in his step that he hadn’t had when he left. “Hey, Nance,” he said. “Can I hold her?” 

It was a sight that you had never thought that you would see. Eddie sat on the couch and held his arms out for Amelia, and Nancy carefully transferred her small daughter into Eddie’s leather-clad arms. Amelia seemed sleepy, her little eyes sticking when she blinked, and she looked lazily up at Eddie as he grinned like a madman. “Look, babe,” Eddie chuckled as Amelia warmed to him instantly, nestling herself deep into her blanket and letting out a soft coo. “I’m holding a baby. I’m doing it.” 

“I’m proud of you,” you giggled, and Eddie lightly bounced Amelia as he smiled down at her. 

“She’s really pretty,” Eddie said, looking up at Steve for a moment. “Gonna have to get that bat out and fight off the boys when she’s older.” 

“I hope not,” Steve laughed. “That bat’s retired. Nancy can be cleaning her guns when boys try to come over.” 

“Hell yeah,” Eddie snickered, and Amelia reached a fat baby fist up and grappled with the guitar pick necklace he had around his neck. “Oh, you like this? Think you want Uncle Eddie to teach you guitar?” 

“Uncle Eddie,” you repeated. “That’s scary. You’ll be such a bad influence.” 

“Just as I plan to be,” Eddie grinned, watching Amelia. “I’ll show her metal music and horror movies and we’ll play D&D every night.” 

“Oh, God,” Nancy laughed. “My poor daughter.” 

“Nah, not really,” Eddie said, and your heart exploded when he leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was the most perfect sight, and you grinned at him. “I’ll treat her like the princess she is.” 

The drive home was fairly quiet, Eddie’s hand resting on your thigh as he drove, tapping his fingers along with the radio. He didn’t speak, obviously thinking hard about something, and he finally spoke as he pulled the van up into the small space next to the trailer. “So…” he started. “How do you feel?” 

“I feel like I want a baby,” you said simply. “There’s a million reasons not to, but the only reason I need is that I love you.”

“I’ll be the best fucking father to our kid,” Eddie told you, his grip tightening on your thigh. His eyes were serious and dark, and you took his hand into yours “I won’t ever make you regret it.” 

“Let’s do it,” you said, and you took a deep breath. “Let’s have a baby.”

Eddie got you into the trailer in a flash, pushing you against the kitchen counter in an instant and caging you in with his arms. He kissed you softly at first, his lips moving nicely against yours as his arms came to wrap around your middle, but he didn’t waste time to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. “Fuck, baby,” Eddie whispered as his hands slotted into your back pockets.

“Eddie,” you moaned. You pressed forward into him, chasing his kiss, and you whined softly when he pulled away. Eddie licked his lips and smiled at you, and he squeezed your ass as he chuckled. 

“Desperate, huh?” he laughed. “You just want my baby so badly, don’t you?” 

“Want you,” you told him, and you leaned forward to meet his lips again. His hands rose from your ass to cradle your cheeks in his palms, and he breathed deeply through his nose as his tongue pressed between your lips. Your hands went to his belt and tugged him closer, right on top of you, and Eddie’s knee knocked your legs open so he could shove his thigh right up against your clothed cunt. 

“C’mere,” Eddie grunted. “To bed… I’m not getting you pregnant in the kitchen.” 

You hummed and playfully tugged on his belt buckle, starting to undo it, and you said, “What if I can’t wait?”

“God,” Eddie groaned, your hand slipping past his belt and into his jeans. “You’re such a little vixen, baby, fuck.”

Your hand was filled by Eddie’s cock in an instant, already half hard and throbbing, and you leaned forward and settled your lips on Eddie’s smooth neck as your hand started to palm him lazily, just giving him enough to get him worked up. “Eddie,” you moaned softly into his ear, gently nipping at his fleshy earlobe, and Eddie’s hands grabbed your hips tightly. His fingers mischievously itched up your shirt and squeezed your side, and you grinned as you sucked a mark just under his ear. “Fuck, Eddie, need this cock inside me.” 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Eddie sighed, and his eyes closed blissfully for a moment, enjoying your movements against his cock, before he took your wrist in his grip and tugged your hand out of his jeans. “But I’m not fucking you in the kitchen, not today. We’re gonna fuck in bed, okay?”

“Why?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “Why do you care?”

“Because I wanna treat you nicely if I’m about to get you pregnant,” Eddie laughed, and your cheeks grew aflamed at the reminder. “I don’t want the kind of fucking where I bend you over and spit on you and fuck you; I want to be nicer to you, more romantic and shit.”

“What if I like when you fuck me like that?” you asked. 

“I know you do,” Eddie told you. “But, please, baby, just for tonight. We can go back to our regular-type fucking, but I just need this tonight.”

You considered it, watching Eddie bite his lip as his eyes grew round and wide, and you finally said, “You’re cute when you beg.” 

Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, and he grabbed your hand and tugged you back to the private little bedroom in the back of the trailer. Eddie’s place was always messy, but you loved that about him, and you settled yourself in his bed without a moment’s hesitation. You were quick to whip off your shirt and toss it aside, and Eddie tsk-ed his tongue and took your hands in his. 

“Let me,” he told you. “Being all romantic and shit, remember?” 

“Right, right,” you hummed slowly, and you smiled at Eddie as he settled himself on his knees over you. He took down your jeans, littering kisses on your skin in his wake, and your tummy flipped when he tugged your jeans off all the way and discarded them off the side of the bed. His head was level with your cunt, and he smoothed his hands up the sides of your body as he kissed just above the waistline of your panties. 

“Right here, baby,” he whispered. “Right here’s where our baby’s gonna grow.” His fingers tangled in your panties and pulled them down, moving so slowly that you whimpered and shifted your hips, and Eddie lightly nipped at the skin of your hip. “Not very patient…” 

“S’hard to be,” you told him. “I just want you so bad.” 

Eddie tucked his hair behind his ear as he settled another kiss to your belly, and he said, “I want you too. Fuck, it’s taking everything in me not to just fuck you right now.” 

“Please, Eddie,” you whimpered. “Please, I just need you. Fuck being romantic, we can be romantic later.” 

“No, baby, no,” Eddie said quickly. “I want to do this right. At least once, I wanna be romantic and cute and shit. What if this is the time our baby’s conceived?”

“What if it happens two months from now during a quickie before work?” you countered. “Eds, I get where you’re coming from, but I’m horny now and I can’t wait.” 

Eddie sighed for a moment, and he said, “You’re right. Fuck, why’re you always right?” 

Your work responded in kind to his, taking down his jeans and ridding him of his shirt, and you put your hand on his chest to push him down to the bed. You tossed your leg over his waist and settled yourself in his lap, and his arms circled your waist as he rose up to kiss you deeply. You moaned softly at the taste of him, his hard cock straining against his boxers and pressing right into your bare cunt, and you rocked your hips forward to get some friction on your lonely clit. 

Eddie held you tightly, grabbing handfuls of your ass to guide you as you grinded up on him. His mouth claimed your greedily, sloppy and wet kisses that broke with soft sounds every time you pulled away to breathe, and Eddie abandoned your ass to tug at your bra. “Take this off…” he mumbled into your mouth as he undid the clasp, and, the moment that your tits were bared to him, his mouth redirected focus onto your pebbled nipple. 

“Fuck, Eds,” you moaned as he laved your nipple with his tongue. He sucked on it for a moment as his hands joined, squeezing your tits and rubbing them all over, and he dropped off and hummed lightly as he watched your chest heave with heavy breaths. 

“How’re you so fucking gorgeous?” Eddie whispered, and he dragged you back down into a heavy kiss. His mouth was blistering hot against yours, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, and his hands drifted up to lightly tug on your hair. “Mmm, I love you, baby.” 

“Need you,” you told him breathlessly, and you laughed lightly when Eddie licked his lips and attached himself back to your tit. 

“How do you need me, baby?” Eddie asked, licking over your nipple. “Tell me exactly how you need me.” 

“Need you inside me,” you uttered, your head falling back in pleasure. “Need you to give me your baby.” 

“Sounds hot, sweetheart,” Eddie said. When you lifted your head back up to look at him, his eyes were blown-out with lust, and you smiled at him gently. “C’mon, then; you want it so bad, get it.” 

You looked down at where your bodies connected, him still wearing his boxers, and you helped him shimmy them down his legs. He tossed them off the bed with a flick of his wrist, and the sight of his cock, red and hard and weeping, made your breath catch. “I love you,” you whispered, and Eddie laughed. 

“You sayin’ that to me or my dick?” Eddie chuckled, and you rolled your eyes. 

“You, obviously,” you said. “But I do love your cock.” 

“Good, you’d better,” Eddie said. “‘Cause I love your pussy— I mean, you.” 

You giggled as he gave you his lopsided grin, his mischievous grin, and you folded your arms around his neck, twirling a curl around your finger. “Can you please get inside me already?” you asked, and Eddie squeezed your tits one more time before he abandoned them in favor of grabbing his cock. 

“I’ve hardly prepped you,” Eddie mumbled as he stroked his cock, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. “It’s gonna hurt.” 

“No, it won’t,” you assured him, leaning down and kissing him quickly. 

“Alright,” Eddie sang jokingly. “But if it stings and you need me to slow down, that’s too bad.” 

“Whatever,” you said as you rolled your eyes, and Eddie pressed the head of his cock into you before he grabbed your hips and helped you sink fully onto him. He was right— it stung something awful, the stretch of your pussy around his thick cock taking you off guard as always, and you sucked in a tight breath through your teeth as you wiggled your hips to regain comfort. 

“Oh, baby,” Eddie cooed, cradling the back of your head with his palm. “Does it hurt? Just like I fuckin’ said it would?” 

“Shut up,” you said as you slotted your lip between your teeth, and you slowly rocked your hips down as Eddie jerked his hips up into you. The slide of him against your slick walls was the most perfect pain, and you whimpered as he slowly started up a good rhythm of fucking you. “Eddie, fuck.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie huffed, his dull fingernails digging into your ass. He controlled the speed of him fucking you, rolling your hips forward to bury himself deeper inside you, and you moaned lowly at the pleasure that was blossoming in your lower belly. “You feel so fucking good.” 

“Fuck me harder,” you told him, and you tucked your face into his neck and began to slowly kiss his skin. “God, Eddie, fuck me.” 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Eddie hooked his hands under your thighs and manhandled you to the bed, your back hitting the mattress as you gave a quiet “Oof!”. Eddie was over you in a second, pressing your legs higher and further apart until your knees were situated by your ears, and he clenched his jaw as his thrusts became quicker, harder, sloppier. “Like this?” he huffed, holding your legs open as he pounded into you. The bed slammed against the wall with each thrust, and you laughed. 

“Yes!” you cried. “Fuck, just like this!” 

“My girl,” Eddie hummed as he fucked you, his strong hands on your thighs. His cock speared into you deep, his heavy balls slapping your sticky cunt, and you tossed your head back and moaned as Eddie’s hand left your leg in order to rub at your clit. A hot bolt of electricity ran up your legs and settled in your tummy at the feeling of his fingers roughly playing at your clit, pinching and circling and teasing you in the best way he could. “My good fuckin’ girl, love having your clit touched, huh?” 

“Eddie, fuck,” you whined. Your hands grappled in the bed sheets for any purchase, any way to keep yourself grounded, and your scrambling hand was quickly filled by Eddie’s ringed hand, holding your fingers tightly. 

“I fuckin’ love you,” Eddie hissed, your pussy throbbing and hugging him tight. “Fuckin’ love this pussy too…”

“Do you love me more than you love my pussy?” you asked with a breathy laugh, and Eddie squeezed your hand for a moment. 

“Of course I do,” he smiled. He fucked into you hard, the bed hitting the wall loudly, and you bit your lip as you laughed at him. “God, baby, thinkin’ about you getting all pregnant, having my baby…” His cock flexed inside you, the glide of him now easy and pleasurable, and he added, “It’s enough to make me come.” 

“Do it,” you teased him, and Eddie raised his eyebrows at you as he chuckled. “Fucking come inside me, give me your babies, Eddie.” 

“Love the way you say my name,” Eddie mumbled. “Can’t wait ‘til I can call you Mama.”

“And you’ll be Daddy,” you told him, and a flush invaded Eddie’s cheeks. “Just think about it, a little girl calling you Daddy, asking you to play dolls with her…”

“I’ll always play dolls with that little girl,” Eddie said. “Our own little nugget. God, I can’t wait.” 

Edide’s hand moved quicker on your clit, rubbing it furiously as his thrusts became faster, and he panted with exertion as he whispered, “You gettin’ close, babe? Daddy’s gonna make Mama come?”

The knot in your belly was growing tighter with every thrust Eddie gave you, his cock nestling into that spot inside you as he played with your clit and squeezed your hand. “Fuck, Eds,” you mewled, your back arching up into his body. “I love you, oh my God.”

“I love you too,” Eddie said. “C’mon, baby, you can come, come for me.” 

The sounds hitting the wall were intense, wet and sticky and so erotic, and you whined as you felt the knot grow tighter and the electricity more intense. The shocks were rocking your thighs, making you quiver in Eddie’s grip, and you finally mumbled, “M’gonna come…”

“Good girl,” Eddie said, his thrusts growing quicker. “Come for me, baby, you can do it.”

You could taste it on your tongue, and you tugged Eddie down into a kiss as you came undone. Your mouth fell open as you moaned and cried, and Eddie bit at your bottom lip as you gushed around his cock. “Fuck!” you cried, your whole body writhing, and you heard Eddie whisper “Yes, baby, just like that. God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this.” 

“You close?” you whispered, your body still recovering from the white-hot orgasm, and Eddie nodded, his bangs falling into his face. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he said. “Gonna give you my baby, fuck, you’ll get all pregnant…” 

“Give me your baby, Eddie,” you breathed, dragging him down into another sloppy kiss. His spit covered your mouth, but you didn’t care, only caring about making him come. You squeezed his throbbing cock tight, and he moaned deep in his chest as, finally, you felt his heavy balls release, and he came. 

The hot ropes of cum filled you as he continued to fuck you through his own orgasm, and he shuddered out a moan that made his stomach flex as his thrusts slowed. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice raw and wrecked, and he readjusted himself on his hands as he carefully fucked you. 

“Baby, you can stop—” you began, but Eddie silenced you with a kiss. 

“Gotta make sure it takes,” he mumbled into your mouth.

You sighed and let your head fall back, and your thighs twitched with residual arousal as Eddie slowed and finally stopped, panting heavily. His upper lip and forehead were shining with sweat, his guitar pick necklace sticking to his sweaty chest, and he pulled out of you with a hiss before he fell onto his back beside you. The bed was small, but you made do, and you hugged Eddie close to you and nestled your head under his chin. 

“Think it’ll take?” you asked, and Eddie nodded. He smoothed his hand down your hair and he placed a kiss to your forehead, and his hand settled against the small of your back. 

“I hope so,” he said. “I can hardly wait to see.” 

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