#not my usual style or content but i had so much fun :3

[artbyflor]

i saw this tiktok of olivia singing through a megaphone and i just had to draw her 🙏🏼💜

#olivia rodrigo #guts olivia rodrigo #guts tour #spill your guts #guts world tour #my art #not my usual style or content but i had so much fun :3

[nomazee]

Silly little thing I thought of

Like like imagine dazai and the reader have been friends for years like the reader knew him since his 15 goofer era... and they got used to eachother sm they usually sleep in eachothers beds n stuff :3

LIKE SOMETHING IS GOING ON BUT THEY STILL HAVE THE FRIENDSHIP LABEL.. 🐺🤞

this concept stuck itself in my head like a tapeworm and it has not escaped me for days IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED i wrote SO MUCH for this omfg i had so much fun writing this thank u for this wonderful idea pairing: dazai x gn reader word count: 2.5k content: fluff, vignette-style writing, friends-to-lovers unspoken label type of thing, soft dazai, domestic fluff without the marriage bit, banter, idiots in love im taking requests!

===

Dazai’s toes are still as frigid at night as they were seven years ago. You, of all people, would be the best person to measure this—not in a weird way, but you two have shared a bed at least once a week since your teenage years. You know all of Dazai’s annoying sleeping habits, including his ones of sleeping without socks and digging his feet into your shins for warmth. 

Annoying fucker. You sigh, batting his arm away from its loose hold around your waist. “Get your toes off of me,” you croak out, half-conscious and mind still addled with the remains of your once-deep sleep.

“What toes,” Dazai mutters back, smacking your intervening hand away and returning his arm to its rightful place around you. “I don’t have toes. I got rid of them after puberty, ‘member?” 

“I’m gonna kill you.” You won’t, not really, and the threats have lost their edge after all these years, but it’s fun to throw at him when he annoys you like this. “I know all your weaknesses, Osamu. One wrong move and you’ll be missing more than just your toes.” 

“I’m cold, dear. Would you really let me freeze like this? So mean.” 

You try not to choke up at the nickname. He’s been a fan of those recently, at least in the last year. You think it has something to do with your new places at the Agency. New workplace, new life, and new nicknames, apparently. If you overthink it you might puke on him and fall back asleep. 

“Not cruel. We have money now, you know. Go buy yourself socks. Wool, or something. Stupid ass cold ass toes.”

He goes quiet. Even in all these years of knowing him, half-living with him, you can’t tell if it’s a normal lull in the conversation or a calculated pause. It doesn’t unnerve you as much as it used to, but there’s still a cold chill at the nape of your neck that springs up at times like these. 

“Why would I do that when I have you?” 

Dazai has also been a fan of this recently—strange uncharacteristic moments of tenderness. He peels himself back for you and bares himself raw. The implications make you nauseous. Swathed in the darkness of the night, he can’t see your fingers twitch from where they lay next to your head, away from his sight; or the conflicted expression that crosses your face. 

Easing your breath out into a steady, deep rhythm, you pretend to be asleep. It’s not like he can’t tell, but the message is there. Let’s not talk about this until the morning. Let’s just sleep for the night. Let’s keep what we have and not change it for the worse. 

==

At age eighteen, shaken with the death of his friend and haunted by blood stains on his fingers, Dazai defects from the mafia. 

He doesn’t take you with him—at least, he doesn’t mean to. He expects to leave quietly, or as quietly as blowing up Chuuya’s car can be. He doesn’t expect you to drag yourself along kicking and screaming. 

Dazai doesn’t remember much about specifics, but he knows that one day he was alone in his underground apartment and the next day you were there. The kitchen smelled like melted marshmallows and rice krispies and his dingy counter was covered in sprinkles. 

“Hi, Dazai,” you’d greeted conversationally. “I’m making your favorite.” 

He doesn’t even like rice krispie treats. Hates them, actually. 

In truth, your presence is less the result of you “kicking and screaming” and more like an after-effect of your own quiet stubbornness. Your kicking-and-screaming was done in the passive aggressive way that you cleaned his dishes and made his bed and left big trays of rice krispie treats in his fridge for the next week. 

Neither of you talked about Chuuya. It was better for you that way. 

On the first night, Dazai remembers you holding him from behind, forehead pressed into the stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder. He’s sensitive there despite being wrapped in his stupid scratchy bandaids. His memories for the rest of the night are overrun by a feeling of want, an itch to feel your fingers on his bare skin, a craving for your hand on his stomach to slide beneath the hem of his shirt and press into the tender skin of his abdomen and keep him warm.  

===

“Leave me alone,” you grumble from behind the sleeve of your jacket. “I’m napping.” 

“It’s not napping if you’re still awake.” 

“I wouldn’t be awake if it wasn’t for your annoying ass.” Rotating your body to face the ceiling from your place on the Agency’s couch, you sigh when your view is blocked by Dazai’s ugly stupid face. He’s smiling in that conniving way that he does when he’s about to do something super annoying. Another sigh escapes you when he leans down close enough for the overgrown ends of his hair to brush against your nose. The puff of air from your verbal discontent makes the strands sway slightly. You try not to think about how mesmerizing he looks when he’s this close, with the light from the window casting a golden sheen on the crown of his head. 

Since when did you get this sappy? Must be Dazai rubbing off on you, obviously. 

“So tired already! It’s barely noon.” 

“You came into work an hour ago. I’ve been here since eight. Try being responsible for a change, might exhaust you just as much.” 

“Hmm.” He tilts his head, big stupid shiny brown eyes blinking down at you like he’s observing a specimen. “I think I’m more than responsible enough.” 

“Sure,” you relent, turning back around to shove your face into the corner of the couch and block out the incoming light. It’s the truth—you’re exhausted. A persistent weariness permeates your bones from how much you’ve been working these last few weeks. It’s not like it’s anyone’s fault in particular, not even Dazai’s despite how much he slacks on paperwork. But looming threats from enemy organizations hang over everyone’s heads and there’s no shortage of uncertainty in the Agency. It’s been mission after mission for you, and you’re taking every break you can get. 

Rustling sounds from above you, but you pay it no mind, busying yourself with nestling all of your body into the crevices of the couch and hopefully turning into a piece of furniture yourself. It might be a more peaceful life, really. The calm is short-lived when you feel fingers tap along your cheek—not in a rousing gesture, but something along the lines of placating. 

Dazai squeezes a hand beneath your head and cups the side of your face pressed against the couch, tilting it closer to him before you feel a warm press of lips against your cheek. He lingers. He always does. You can feel the gentle inhales and exhales breeze against your face before he breaks his kiss away. Your cheek is warm for more reasons than one. 

“Take care of yourself,” and oh, god, you’ll never get used to this, never get used to how tender and soft he’s become with you, never get used to how this Agency has fostered something like kindness in both of you. Your stomach stirs with something unnamed and if you were braver, you’d blink your eyes open and reach up and grab the sides of his face and pull him down to you. 

But you’re not brave, and there’s people still behind you in the office, and you wonder what led Dazai to be soft enough to kiss your face like that in front of everyone. You’re sure they’re watching you both. The Agency is full of gossips, whether they admit it or not. 

===

“Dazai,” Ango Sakaguchi grits out from behind the crackling reception of a burner phone. “They were not a part of the plan.” 

“You think I don’t know that, Ango?” Dazai replies, tone more playful than aggressive. “I know they’re not a part of the plan. They knew they weren’t part of the plan, too. But it’s too late to do anything about it. It’s just a minor change.” 

“A minor change?” Ango’s voice is strained with stress, no doubt pulling out strands of his hair as they speak. “I have to deal with not one, but now two members of the mafia defecting. Do you know how much work this was to begin with?” 

The thing is—of course Dazai knows. He knows everything. The minute he found you in his kitchen, his stomach dropped with the uncertainty of the future. Going underground with another person was nothing short of a burden, at least on paper. But, he couldn't find it in himself to think of you like that. Like a burden. 

“We’ll figure it out, Ango. If you don’t, then we will.” 

A gritty sigh sounds from the other side of the phone call. “I’m putting a lot of faith in you, Dazai. Don’t screw this up.” 

===

“Made you lunch. Since, obviously, you’re not gonna do that for yourself any time soon.” 

A closed plastic container is thrown on the counter in front of Dazai. He looks at it, then up at you, eyebrow raised as if he doesn’t have a clue what this could be about. He’s not that stupid, though. You of all people would know that. 

“How nice of you! Too bad I’m not hungry.” His lip juts out in a poor imitation of a pout, and he looks ugly with it. So ugly. Ugly enough to make you feel the need to kiss him all over and then slap him. An incredulous huff escapes you. 

“I don’t care if you’re hungry. Eat. It has crab in it, see, your favorite.” 

“I thought my favorite was rice krispies?” 

You freeze. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might remember that, after all this time. You don’t dwell, because that’s the worst thing to do with Osamu Dazai—dwell. 

“Don’t act stupid. Just eat it. Even if it’s not the whole thing, at least some of it. It would do you some good.” Getting serious with Dazai is one of the most awkward, unbearable things you could ever do. He has a way of making you feel stupid for worrying about him, with all his roundabout jokes and skills of evasion built up over years. You’ve found that being straightforward is the best way to avoid all those blank moments of silence. 

His fingers curl around the plastic lid and pop it open. The container is still warm, having cooked all its contents just half an hour before showing up at Dazai’s apartment with conviction in your eyes. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll have some.” 

You bring out a duplicate container with a serving for you, and treat yourself to a juice box from his fridge. You try not to launch into a lecture at the sight of his barren pantry—that’s best done by Kunikida. The both of you eat in silence, sitting across from each other at Dazai’s dusty kitchen island. 

He only gets through a few bites before pushing the container away and complaining about how full he is. You know it’s not the truth, but it’s the mixed-up signals that his body sends him. It’s not that he’s full, but his persistent lack of appetite has caused a lot of troubles for him in the past and you don’t doubt that it’ll keep causing troubles in the future, too. 

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you tell him, dragging him up from his chair despite his whining protests. “I won’t make you shower, but you should probably do that tomorrow, ‘cause your hair’s about to get all greasy and disgusting.”

“So crude.” 

“I do my best.” 

You let him change on his own, but not before picking out a nice soft set of matching pajamas from deep inside his closet. You grumble a little in annoyance. The set was a birthday gift you got for him a year ago and that asshole pushed it to the back of his wardrobe and never touched it again. What a brat. You throw a pair of fuzzy socks at him to boot. 

Once he’s changed into proper sleep clothes, you can tell that the exhaustion is starting to hit him. He sways a little on his feet and his blinks last for a little too long, as if he’s chasing sleep every time his eyes shut. With another begrudging sigh, you set him down on the floor of the bathroom and dollop his toothbrush with fruity kid’s toothpaste—because of course that’s the only toothpaste he owns—and brush his teeth for him. 

Dazai dozes off in the middle of it, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up in the most annoying way possible. You try really, really hard to not think about how soft you’ve gotten. You’re an ex-mafia member, past coated with dark stains and entrails and death, all of those dark things. Your blood is just as black as Dazai’s, if not more. And yet, being a part of this stupid Detective Agency with this stupid man has melted you down into something parallel to good.

Don’t dwell. It’ll do you no good. 

You use a gentle grip with the toothbrush, ensuring that his delicate gums don’t tear with the force of the bristles. A warm feeling stirs in your chest. It feels like you’ve proven something, like you’ve proven to the world that your coal-stained hands can be gentle, too. You can kill and you can nurture. You tap Dazai awake with a little more care, now. 

“Rinse your mouth,” you tell him in a whisper. “Then you can sleep.” And after a pause, you add, “I promise,” because now you’re in the business of making promises to people. 

Dazai rinses his mouth, and you wipe off the remaining droplets of water from his face with a paper towel that you leave on the counter for your future self to throw out. You lace your fingers with his as you walk to his bed. Not that he needs any guiding. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just a little extra insurance, you think. 

“Stay with me,” he mumbles out the minute you lay him down on the bed. It’s a sentence, and not a question, because he’d rather die than ask you something so vulnerable. He’s doing it again—peeling himself back and baring himself raw for you. Your head swims and your vision blurs with either a migraine or with tears, you can’t tell. But your lips quirk up into a stupid smile and he sees it despite his half-lidded eyes, and he smiles back like the stupid dope that he is. 

“Yeah, of course. I’m right here, Osamu. Go to sleep.” 

And he does. Of course, not before he feels you cup the opposite side of his face and plant a warm, lingering kiss on the swell of his cheek just as he did for you weeks before. The faint laugh that he lets out before he falls asleep is enough to tell you that he’ll be making fun of you for it in the morning. For now, though, he’s soft and pliant and warm between your hands, and you sleep.

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fic #bungo stray dogs fic #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x you #dazai osamu #i forgof how to tag hejkp me #openeing up comissions soon... maybne.... #this was so fun to write like it lived in my brain for a week and i wrote a little bit every day #i had DAYDREAMS ABOUT THIS CONCEPT BRO LIKE

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Everyone Else Is No.2 {One-Shot}***

Lewis Hamilton x Attorney Friend Reader

Warning: Cursing, NSFW, Mature 18+ Content, Angst, PLENTY OF WORDS, DIALOGUE HEAVY

Words: 15.2k

Summary: Again, nah.

Note: Inspired by that old August Alsina song "Kissing on My Tattoos". So sorry for how long it is and for the long sentences toward the end, it couldn't be any other way. Forgive the weird spacing throughout, Tumblr has a 1,000 block limit per post, and guess who reached it before correcting the spacing.

Note II: Really interested in hearing what you guys think about this one. Let me know.

As always, thank you guys for reading! I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this.

If you did enjoy this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

-Y/N-

"You're beautiful you know that right?"

You smiled and took a sip of your drink.

"Thanks."

The man sitting across from you, Darius, nodded and before he looked down to his plate you caught his eyes drop to your cleavage. Of course, you thought. This was your 2nd date with him. The first went smoothly though you'd went with little to no expectations for it to be so. Tonight, he said the right things, did the right things, and was the perfect gentleman.

He'd even chosen a great restaurant. The ambiance was perfect for a second date. So far you had only counted 2 things that were less than satisfactory, everything was on point. He was so on point that you wondered if he was acting and not being his genuine self.

You hated the dating scene. Everyone held their cards too close to their chest. No one was ever real about anything. Everyone liked to waste people's time all in the name of fun and sex. These days you only treated dating as a pastime and a way to relieve stress after long hours of working on briefs and reviewing case files.

"A woman with your track record in law. Wheeew. Was it hard?"

You shrugged then wiped the corner of your mouth, "It definitely wasn't easy. I still remember the sleepless nights, and times when I only had 1 meal a day. My parents still remember not seeing me for 3 months because of the bar and my first major case that came nearly right behind the other. They won't let me forget it."

"It looks like it paid off. You're on the partner track. Shit, you'd be the first woman under 35 to make that happen at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw," Darius said.

You bristled, but politely smiled and took another sip of your wine.

"I'm sorry I don’t mean to make this weird I'm just in awe of you."

You studied him for a few moments but found no lie. You could always tell a lie. No matter what the case, no matter who it was. It was your secret weapon and it served you well as a lawyer.

"Thank you, but enough about me. What about you? Tell me about Darius Forrester."

He smiled, licked his lips then looked you directly in the eye.

"I'm pretty much a what you see you get kind of guy. I've been at Berry & Clark for the last 6 years as a criminal attorney. The work is challenging but I do alright for myself.

You nodded. He did. From what you heard his win ratio was nearly 92% and he took upstanding cases. He was a good attorney. Normally you wouldn’t shit where you ate because mess was not your style. You did not want to walk into a courtroom or boardroom and see the opposing counsel was an ex. That one thing gave you nightmares.

So dating lawyers was out of the question. You dipped in every other career field, playing it safe. The further they were from a law career the better. However, after a conversation with your other lawyer girlfriends about limiting oneself in the already limited dating pool, something clicked, and you decided to try it once but only if they weren't in your firm. Darius was your first attempt.

As he continued to tell you facts about himself you listened, but he didn't have your full attention. There was another person who held your attention, a person who though was usually out of sight was never really out of mind.

You heard your phone sound from your clutch resting on the table and both your eyes shot to it. Darius spoke before you moved.

"Go ahead please."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm an attorney as well, Y/N I know you come attached to it."

You smiled, held up your finger to him silently promising it would be quick, then took your phone in hand. You expected it to be Kemi, your paralegal, with files you were expecting, but it wasn't her name on your screen.

MSG Lewis: What're you doing tonight? Going over an endless to-do list of contracts and briefs?

You smirked.

MSG: Not even close.

MSG Lewis: Wow did someone finally decide to live a little and cut loose?

MSG: This sounds an awful lot like the pot calling the kettle black.

MSG Lewis: Plead the 5th.

MSG: The Lewis Hamilton out maneuvered. Say it ain't so.

MSG: I'm close to your place. Just got back in town. Can you be ready in 10?

Your eyes flitted to Darius across from you who was taking the time to check his messages as well. You looked over him slowly, noting again how great he looked in his suit and how you liked the effort he had put in the last 2 dates down to the flowers he brought you and the activities you'd done. Things could progress if you chose to allow them to.

MSG Lewis: Is that a no?

MSG: I'm not home.

MSG Lewis: Okay. Where you at, the office? I can come pick you up.

MSG: I'm not at the office. I'm actually on a date.

You waited a few seconds, but he didn’t reply. Why didn't he reply?

"Everything ok?"

Caught off guard, you looked back up to Darius whose eyes were already on you. His brows were knitted with concern.

"Uh--yeah. I uh--I think so."

"A case?"

You thought about it and technically he was right. You were Lewis' entertainment lawyer. You were his personal attorney who reviewed the contracts after the company attorney said they had. You gave it to him between the eyes, never sugarcoating, and told him what was made with his best interest and what was made to capitalize off of him. However, when your services weren’t needed you were friends. Had been for practically a decade now.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe you’d known each other that long. You’d known him since he was just another F1 driver rather than the greatest. He knew you when you were going through school always on an empty tank all in the hopes of rising above the tax bracket you were born into. A decade later and he was dominating F1 and you’d more than risen yourself several levels past the tax bracket you’d been born into.

You were on the partner track at one of the largest firms in Europe. You brought in more revenue than most of the attorneys at the firm thanks to your high-class clientele. You'd both worked your asses off to get to this level and enjoyed the spoils of your labor often. You clubbed together, went to dinner, and sometimes did the vacation vibe together. You enjoyed one another’s company.  

"A client."

"Oh. Everything cool or---," Darius said.

Another message came in just then. "Everything is cool."

Darius smiled. "Good. I'll be right back, men’s room."

"Yeah."

Darius stood then walked off leaving you with the perfect opportunity to check your phone.

MSG Lewis: Is that right?

MSG: Yeah. 2nd date. Well technically 3rd if you can have 2 dates in one day.

MSG Lewis: Cool. Is it going well?

MSG: Yeah. He's made it this far.

MSG Lewis: Cool.

MSG: When he drops me home Ill text you. Come get me then.

Several moments passed before he replied. Again, you wondered why.

MSG Lewis: Cool.

The remainder of dinner you were distracted. Darius played all his cards right, even scoring himself the green light on a little hand-holding action. You had to admit he was smooth. When he pulled up to your condo building he walked you to your door then went in for a kiss. You hadn’t expected it, but rather than pull away, you allowed it to play out. It wasn’t a bad kiss. He hadn’t been too overzealous, only slipped you a little tongue, and had kept his hands respectful. All in all, for a first kiss it was a solid 8.

With a promise to call to set date number 4 sometime next week, you went inside and allowed yourself to come down. The dating scene was not something you enjoyed often. You always felt like you were performing, like men wanted a certain kind of woman, the perfect woman who they could prance around on their arm to make other men envious and that took its toll.

You never felt you had to perform with Lewis. Never felt like he wanted the perfect you. He made fun of you whenever you were perfectly put together for work meetings and said many times he liked you out of the makeup and heels. After another sigh, you took your phone out and texted him.

~~~~~~

-Lewis-

The ceiling looked like every other ceiling he’d ever seen but that didn’t stop him from focusing most of his attention on it like it was the most interesting piece of construction ever. His eyes should have been focused elsewhere but they weren’t. A loud 'slurp' echoed in the mostly quiet room reminding him again that he wasn’t alone.

"Mm. Why are you so distracted tonight, bae?"

Julissa's voice was as smooth as honey and as seductive as ever. He lowered his eyes to where she was kneeling between his legs and took her in. Her lips and chin were wet as she gave him her bedroom eyes. This was not the first time between them. Usually, it would work but not tonight. Tonight he was struggling to even keep his head in the room.

He watched her tip her tongue out and lick from the base of his dick to the glistening tip. Once there she swirled her tongue around him then sucked his head into her mouth. He’d have to be dead for it not to feel nice but that’s all it was--nice.

He sighed then brought his attention back to the ceiling. "Work."

"Aw babe, when you’re with me work should be the last thing on your mind," Julissa said before lowering her mouth down his shaft. When he felt her tonsils he groaned. His body wanted to like this wanted to give her the reaction she was working so hard for, but something was holding him back. Julissa's mouth bobbed up and down his cock sucking and slurping to her heart’s content trying to get him off, but he knew she had her work cut out for her.

He thought back to your text from 2 hours ago. You were on a date. Well shit, he hadn’t seen that coming. That was the last thing he had expected you to be doing tonight. It wasn’t because you weren’t desirable, or he thought no man would want you. For fuck's sake, you were beyond desirable, you were gorgeous and so damn intelligent. He couldn’t figure out which of those made you more beautiful, your looks or your brains. You also worked hard to be where you were, and you deserved all the praise and attention you got wherever you went.

However, sometimes he wished you got a little less male attention--x that, a lot less male attention. He sighed again. This had been going on for 10 years now. Your friendship had only strengthened but along with a strengthening friendship came a lot of other stuff. Stuff like him taking notice of the fullness of your hips or being tempted to peek when you’d been changing in the backseat of his car, or being painfully aware of how your breasts felt against his chest when you hugged.

That coupled with things he had picked up from you, made the unspoken and ignored things that much more—confusing. There were times when the way you stared at him when you thought he wasn’t looking spoke volumes or the way your hand always lingered on him for a few seconds longer than necessary but not long enough for it to be inappropriate, or the time you'd fallen asleep together on the couch and he'd woken to you wrapped around him using him as your personal body pillow and mumbling his name in your sleep.

Yeah, there was a lot of extra stuff, stuff neither of you ever addressed. The only ones who assessed it were his friends. Miles told him on several occasions that he should be careful before he or you fucked around, and someone ended up hurt. That stuck with him, but not in the way Miles had probably meant it. Rather than taking it the way Miles meant, he used it as a means to keep himself in check, a form of prevention from him crossing the line. He knew if he did, neither of you would be able to go back. It would be impossible and was one fuck up worth a decades-long friendship?

So friends were where you stayed until he added another facet--professional. Years passed, dates passed, flings, non-labeled encounters on both your parts passed and through it all your friendship remained, and nothing changed. Except today there was even more extra stuff.

The feel of Julissa’s lips wrapped around his balls sent his hips jerking upward as a curse left his lips. Julissa moaned and giggled.

“Daddy likes that?”

He knew how he would like it more. As quickly as he revved to that thought he steered away from it. That was when his phone sounded.

MSG Y/N: I’m home. Whatdaya you wanna do? Should I change?

His eye caught the time. 1am. Almost 3 hours from your last text and you were only now getting home. Clenching his jaw he took a deep breath. He had no right to be mad or annoyed right now. He knew where this was coming from. You’d been on a date, and you said it was going well. A date going well had a chance of making it upstairs. He closed his eyes squeezing them tightly. He hoped to God that you hadn’t just gotten it in.

MSG Y/N: Hello?

MSG: You don’t have to change. How about some treats and a view?

MSG Y/N: Okay. Still 10?

MSG: Make it 15.

Pulling himself up he reached down to stop Julissa. She looked confused.

“I gotta go J.”

Now she looked even more confused. He didn’t owe her an explanation, that’s not how this worked between them.

“With your dick out?”

He scoffed then fixed himself as he stood.

“Lewis this’s never happened before. Are--,” she began before he cut her off.

“All good, just—not in the mood I guess.”

She looked offended now. “I’m sorry J. We’ll talk.”

He walked to the door then left her apartment without a glance back. He didn’t feel any way about it because both of them knew what their relationship was and wasn’t. She’d agreed. Once he was in his car, he zipped through the London streets maneuvering the quickest route to your place. Thanks to the time it was an easy drive with minimal traffic. 15 minutes on the dot he swerved around to the front of your luxury condo building then sent you a text letting you know he was there.

A few minutes later, he peeped you from the corner of his eye. You walked off the elevator in a short and tight black dress, impossibly high strappy black heels, and a flowy robe-like jacket that danced behind you as you walked.

“Fuck.”

You were beautiful. Just then the thought that you’d gone on a date dressed like this rubbed him wrong. Some other man had seen this view, a view you gave willingly. Clenching his jaw, he looked through his windshield as he tried to push all those thoughts—all that other stuff to the side as he’d done countless times before. He looked back just in time to see you open the door of his car then climb in. His eyes dropped to your legs but seconds later he corrected that.

“Hi!”

Your smile was bright as if you really were as happy to see him as your voice indicated.

“Hey.”

You reached over and pressed your cheek to his for a bougie kiss. The only thing he could think was that you smelled like a treat all by yourself.

“How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Good. Wow, what’s it been? 2 months?”

He shrugged as he shifted gears and took off. “Something like that.”

“Mercedes sure knows how to keep you busy,” you teased.

He tried to focus on the road but from his peripheral, he could see you crossing your legs displaying even more skin.

“What were you doing? You smell like fruits.”

He chastised himself because he hadn’t done a bit of cleaning up before he came. His only thought was you. Julissa’s fruity lip gloss still stained his dick that he couldn’t manage to get hard for her.

“Nowhere special. Just kickin’ it.”

You didn’t press further which said you knew just what he was doing. He clenched his jaw again, this time annoyed with himself. As he drove to the dessert place you told him about what was going on in your life while he shared some bits of his with you. Like always conversation flowed like a calm river. It was something he loved. It didn’t take long for him to pull up to the drive-thru of the vegan dessert shop. When it was his turn at the window he tipped his hat lower and left the ordering to you.

You ordered damn near everything on the menu. You didn’t care if it was cake, cupcake, ice cream, brownie, or whipped cream. You ordered at least 2 of everything. It took the staff a good 5 minutes to prepare it all and when he loaded them in the backseat it was completely filled. When he looked at you with an “are you serious right now” look, all you did was giggle. Fuck, he thought. There went all that extra stuff again.

“There is no way we can finish all this,” he said looking at the bags they’d moved to the front since parking at their destination.

“Speak for yourself. I always have room for sugar, sugar.”

He snorted then shook his head. “Mad whack.”

Your jaw dropped as you gaped at him, and you looked too fucking adorable. You sifted through the bags until you found the dessert you wanted—the vanilla bean cheesecake. Your eyes lit up as you gawked at the large slice that was topped with white chocolate shavings. “It's so pretty,” you gushed.

He watched you snap picture after picture of the treat before you took your first forkful. When you did, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let out a completely indulgent, hearty, and dick-hardening moan. The fuck, he thought as his dick spasmed to life. Quickly he moved one of the bags to his lap and looked out the window.

“This is so good,” you obliviously said still munching on cake.

He pulled out the vegan chocolate truffle cake and took a bite. It too was good.

“That looks good. Is it?”

“Try it,” he said holding out a forkful to your mouth.

You paused for a split second then cut off a piece of your cheesecake before you held your fork to his mouth.

“You try too.”

The image that came to mind was that of a new husband and wife feeding each other wedding cake and with it, his throat went dry. He knew if he tried to speak he’d sound like a pre-pubescent boy, so he wrapped his lips around your fork taking the piece of cake then fed you his. Your eyes lingered on one another for a few moments nut when you moaned again his dick spasmed again. with that he turned his head so fast that he was surprised he hadn’t snapped his own neck in the process.

“So good,” you repeated.

The two of you sat there commenting on the desserts you went through in record time. He didn’t indulge in sweets often but when he did he found it was usually with your sugar-addicted ass. You said there were 4 things in life you would never give up, sugar, your favorite perfume, your favorite underwear set, and sex. He believed you on all points. When there were only a few pieces of cake left the silence in the car stretched.

“So—a date huh.”

“A date.”

“I thought you gave up dating.”

You took a deep breath then slowly released it before turning your body at an angle facing him. The hem of your dress hiked a little higher and he forced himself to look away.

“I did. Then I got bored and he asked.”

“What does he do?”

You didn’t answer automatically, instead, you took another forkful or 2 of cake, then you spoke.

“He’s an attorney.”

“I thought you didn’t date attorneys.”

“I don’t but me and the girls were talking, and it clicked that by x-ing out a whole career field greatly decreased me finding someone who could stick around.”

He paused. Stick around? This was new.

“Stick around? Are you—are you looking for something—serious?”

You took a beat then shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought the other day, I have everything I have ever wanted. I am on this partner track, I make very high 6 figures, I have a great condo, my mental health is amazing, I have no debt, no baby daddies or drama, I—I’m kinda a catch but I go to sleep alone 98% of my nights. I come home to an empty place, I have no meaningful text exchanges, there is—nothing fulfilling in my life. I began to wonder if it was time to change all of that last bit.”

Silence stretched again as he thought over your words while studying you. This was the first time he’d heard you speak like this. Usually, you changed the subject or downplayed having any other thoughts than fun, sex, and work. Now hearing the vulnerability in your voice he knew you’d come to a point where all of this, intention-free dating, pastime sex, stress-busting flirting and all the meaningless interactions were unfulfilling and empty. You wanted more, you wanted love, a life, a husband, kids, vacation homes, and retirement funds, you wanted the quintessential definition of it all. He also noted you now found everything he was currently partaking in meaningless and unfulfilling.

Dropping his head, he stabbed the cake still in his hands. The more puncture holes it picked up the less and less he wanted it.

“Fuck, maybe I’m just bored and need a really, really, good fuck.”

He snorted but it was humorless.

“Don’t downplay what you feel, Y/N. Don’t—make what you feel insignificant, so you feel less vulnerable. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s you and me here.”

“It’s just—you—I know those are things you don’t necessarily want and you’re happy with the--.”

“Who said I don’t want those things?”

His tone was sharp and defensive though he hadn’t meant for it to be.

“Uh—you did.”

“No. I said it’s not something I can afford right now with my schedule and my contract extension. I didn’t say I never wanted it.”

You looked away from him to out the window. “Yeah, but your actions say a lot different,” you mumble.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N, look at me. What does that mean?”

You sat quietly for a few moments then just when he was about to ask again you blurted.

“There is a difference between I don’t want it now and I don’t want it ever. Someone who wants it someday would leave themselves open to it rather than boxing every interaction they have into--other things.”

“What if I don’t want to open myself to it?”

“That’s clear Lew.”

“No. You don’t get it. What if I don’t want to open myself to it because I don’t want to find the perfect thing—the perfect woman and then be fucked because it’s too soon and too hard to keep her in my world to wait until I can make those commitments because my world is fucked—I’m fucked because I want the world and will actually keep going until I get it anyone else be damned.”

He could feel your eyes on him, and it was his turn to feel vulnerable and exposed.

“You think because you put everyone in one box it stops what’s meant to be from—being?”

He glanced at you with a pained expression, he knew it. He was actually feeling pain.

“Also—you’re not fucked because you want the world. I want the fucking world. Am I fucked?”

“To be determined.”

You both busted out laughing then. You laughed for a good minute then smiled as it tapered off.

“Aren’t you the tiniest bit lonely in the other side of your life—away from F1?”

He didn’t need to think about that. He knew the answer, but he didn’t want to tell you. The facts were that he was lonely more times than not. That was when he called someone to come distract him or make him feel good. He’d become an expert in the art of distraction. In his life, he only had time and the capacity for low stress and no mess. He had enough of both already.

He felt your hand creep into his and squeeze gently. Suddenly, there was all this other stuff again. The feel of your smaller hand in his larger one was something he really liked. Usually, when either of you took the other’s hand it was in passing or for a second, but the moment lingered and stretched, and still you kept your hand in his swirling your fingers against his palm and other fingers. He liked this too much.

“You can tell me. I won’t judge you. In fact—I’m lonely.”

His eyes slipped to you. Your head was down staring at your hands. It had now moved to trace the tattoos on his hand with the point of your nail as if his flesh were an adult coloring book. He watched you trace the rose on his pinky, then the planets on his ring finger. When you got to the lined arrow down his middle, he was having trouble swallowing again. Slowly, you traced the spaceship then went up across the sword until you reached his wrist.

He didn’t know if there was rhyme or reason to your movements or if you were just absently doing it. Goosebumps peppered his skin when you went up his forearm. He looked at you just before your eyes met his.

“You are?”

You nodded. “I am,” you whispered.

The air was on but inside the car easily felt like a sweltering 99 degrees. He didn’t know if it was from your touch or if it was the shift in the air between you. Did you notice it too?

“I think it’s okay to be lonely especially looking at how we live. We’re always working, always pushing ourselves to and through glass ceilings and when we do there is no one really there to share it with, not really, not in the way that fulfills,” you said.

Your face was closer to his now. Had he moved closer or was it you? Your eyes met again, and the temperature kicked up again. Fuck, he thought as his dick recklessly spasmed, begging for attention.

“I’m never lonely with you,” he said before his brain could stop his mouth.

A small smile lit your face, “Me too. Never with you.”

The smile slipped. “Well—not always.”

He turned to you more now, curiosity filling him. “What do you mean?”

You stayed quiet for a few moments but kept tracing his skin with your nail.

“There are times I can’t—guess what you’re thinking. Times I can’t—figure you out.”

“Then ask me.”

“Would you really tell me?”

He leaned closer. “I’d tell you anything.”

You searched his eyes, but you didn’t move back.

“Anything?”

He nodded slowly. His head felt hazy like you had him under some sort of spell with nothing more than your presence and the tip of your finger and all he truly wanted was to touch you in return. So he did. Reaching across to your exposed knee, he circled his finger around the smooth skin there. You sucked in a breath the moment his finger touched you and that one action nearly had him pulling you across the partition right onto his lap. Nearly.

So there on a hill that overlooked London, in his car, sitting near enough to a lone road light, you trailed your finger across his forearm while he did the same to your knee. The low light that illuminated the car bathed your skin in amber making him feel like you were on a whole different plane of existence rather than this real proven and tangible one. Your eyes held him in place to the point where he felt like he couldn’t move though he wanted to.

Without even realizing it you were mere inches from him. In fact, you were so close he could make out the hidden colors in your eyes, so close he could smell the fragrance on your skin that went deeper than perfume. This was your essence and by God he was intoxicated. Unable to stop himself, he inched his hand higher gripping your inner thigh. A soft moan fell from your lips and that was all it took for him to press his forehead to yours like the sound was tethered to his very core.

“Y/N,” he groaned.

The sheer might it was taking to keep himself restrained was becoming too much. At this point, it wouldn’t take much for him to abandon those restraints and give in.

“Lewis,” you whispered.

Your voice was raspy and dripping with what he dared label as desire. Fuck, he thought as he squeezed your thigh. He was so close, mere inches and it wouldn’t take much to close the gap between his fingers and your core but still, he fought himself. He was so wrapped up in his own battle for control within himself that he didn’t even realize when your hand rested on his upper thigh. You were dangerously close to kicking the lid off the box of other stuff that he’d worked years to keep shut. Half of him silently begged for you to keep going and kick it off so everything would be out in the open and it would be do or die but the other half of him hesitated still. The unknown was a powerful and sobering drug.

Your hand inched higher, then closer to what was the rock-hard physical evidence that deep down, now closer to the surface than ever before, he felt more, wanted more than what was. He wanted more than he could possibly afford. Still, his hand persisted, it inched higher making your hips jerk forward. The knowledge that he’d hit a sensitive spot sent his system into overdrive making a deep moan from his lips fill the car.

On cue in response, your legs opened a few inches more, making way for his hand. Jesus Christ he thought. There was his consent, you wanted him as he wanted you. There would be nothing wrong with him slipping his fingers underneath whatever underwear you wore. Fuck, he hoped they were lacy and strappy. There would be nothing wrong with him letting your hand slide to the aching dick straining against his pants begging for your attention. Shit, he bet your hands would feel incredible wrapped around him. There would be nothing wrong with him moving closer and finally claiming your lips as his. Damn, he just knew they were as sweet as they looked, that they felt amazing. There would be nothing wrong with him pulling your body against his for more than a clothed hug. There would be nothing wrong with him cupping your breasts and swirling his thumb across your nipple just to see the reaction it elicited. God damn it, he knew your moans would destroy him. There would be nothing wrong with him finally learning what you tasted like, nothing wrong with him finally smearing your wetness across his lips. Holy fuck, he knew you had to taste like pure sugar and cream.

His cock spasmed again then your hand made the move for him. In the same breath with his eyes squeezed tight, he lurched for your hand, gripping you by your wrist stopping you just before you touched him. As he did that his jaw clenched, the only thing he could do to stifle the moan at the tip of his tongue. It came out as a half groan and growl instead. The strangled whine that left you said you liked it, and he knew he had to end this here. It took him some time to find the smallest bit of control to open his eyes, but he didn’t possess enough control to look at you. There was no way he could.

“I’ll take you home,” he said, voice low and so close to a whisper.

He tried to keep the longing, regret, and hope from it. Slowly he removed his hand from your thigh hoping with everything in him that you grabbed it and nudged it higher. You didn’t though, so he turned forward readying himself to drive. You didn’t move for several long moments; you remained there half facing him with your thighs still tempting him to go back and take things further. With his hands on the steering wheel, he trained his eyes forward. He could feel all the antsy energy bouncing off every cell of his body, he could feel all the need in him wreaking havoc on him telling him to stop being a pussy and do what he really wanted to, say what he wanted to, take what he wanted.

His hands squeezed so tightly that the creaking of the leather echoed in the intense silence in the car. Just when he was about to say fuck it, you turned away from him. You softly cleared your throat then buckled yourself in. Sighing, he pushed started the ignition then swerved out of the parked spot they were in taking the route back to the city. As he drove you didn’t speak, you didn’t even move. You kept your head turned away from him looking out the passenger window with your legs crossed away from him. Your body language sent a completely different message now. Before you were open and so close to him. Now, you were so far he wondered if he’d turned Miles’ words into truths.

~~~~~

-Y/N- 8 Months Later-

The loud ‘pop’ of a champagne cork echoed just behind you making you spin in that direction. A group was just behind you laughing and toasting to something you guessed was momentous. You sighed then turned back to the painting you were currently studying. The abstract lines and swoops looked so similar to the slopes of a body. The longer you stared at it the more it felt like an erotic image than some random lines and swirls. There was something about it that stirred something in you, something that you’d ignored and buried so deep, something you hadn’t felt for 8 months.

You drained your champagne glass then squeezed your eyes shut. It had been a long 8 months. You’d worked your ass off times ten taking on more and more clients than before. You brought on 12 celebrity clients and 4 major corporate ones which brought Halsey, Boyd, and Crenshaw to the top of the field in revenue. You brought in so much money that you’d gotten 7 poaching offers from firms in different parts of the country.

Thanks to those offers that you hadn’t necessarily kept confidential, the interest in you for partner rose to unbeatable levels. Anyone you were competing against for the position paled in comparison. Those 8 months of ass-busting work led to your name being signed on the paperwork titling you as the new partner at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw. It was so much of a done deal that your bank account proudly embraced your new status.

With that new status came an increase in the events you had to make an appearance at as thee number 1 entertainment and criminal attorney in London. Your calendar quickly filled with meetings, speeches, appearances, court appearances, dinners, and more. You were so booked that the next time you had any schedule free time was 6 months away. You’d catapulted so far out of your original tax bracket that you’d shattered the glass ceiling that tried to confine you and now you wondered if you’d aimed too high.

“Looks like I’m right on time.”

You looked to your right and found Darius holding another glass of champagne for you. Smiling, you took it.

“That you are, thank you.”

“Of course. To you, the youngest and newest partner at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw and in the greater London area.”

You smiled as the man who’d stuck around through your insane schedule, your hot and cold behavior, your pull you close one minute, push you away the next, your disappearing acts, your reluctance to place a label on your interactions, your give me sex then get gone rule, and more for the last 8 months.

“Thank you, Darius,” you said leaning toward him and pressing your lips against his.

Darius moaned and reciprocated the kiss, snaking his hand around your waist and pulling you close. You felt like you were thanking him for much more than the toast and the fresh glass of champagne. You felt like you were thanking him for taking your bare minimum and it made you feel like shit.

Darius pressed his forehead to yours and instantly you had a flash back to the last man who’d done that to you. In a split second, your heart rate spiked, and an intense feeling gripped you.

“You don’t have to thank me, love.”

Your reaction to the action ricocheted through you making you pull away from Darius. Turning back to the painting, you gulped down the champagne.

“It’s crazy that your firm has so many celebrity clients and that this many are here to welcome you as partner,” Darius said in hushed tones.

“It is crazy.”

All night you’d been rubbing elbows with actors, musicians, models, athletes, and more. All of them congratulated you on your promotion and wished you greater success in the future. It was touching but a little bit overwhelming. You couldn’t let on though, so for the entire night you’d been performing, and you were nearing the limits of your stamina for it. You’d been performing for the last 8 months. Shit, you’d even been performing with Darius. You’d been performing ever since you were dropped off in those early morning hours those 8 months ago.

“Y/N,”

To your left, your paralegal now turned assistant, Kemi touched your elbow drawing your attention to her.

“Hey, girl.”

“Hey, you look incredible,” she said.

“Stop saying that please, you’re gonna blow my head up so big I just might start thinking I deserve a higher position.”

She giggled but gave you a look that said “well ya’ do.”

“The big wigs are asking for you, although you’re now one of them so--.”

You snorted while rolling your eyes. “Then doesn’t that make you the big wig assistant?”

She posed then making you laugh.

“I’ll be right back,” you said to Darius as you walked off to find those big wigs.

It didn’t take long before you found them surrounded by a group of about 10 people. When they saw you they waved you over with large smiles on their faces. You took a deep breath and approached them with an equally large smile.

“There she is ladies and gentlemen!”

The group smiled, patted your back, and welcomed you with friendly banter.

“Everyone!”

The music died down and someone handed Malcolm Boyd a microphone. He was your biggest fan, a black man who’d made unfathomable feats in the field and became an incredible mentor and second father to you. He put his arm around your shoulder as he always did.

“I am filled with great happiness and pride calling this woman the new partner here at Halsey, Boyd, and Crenshaw!”

Everyone began applauding then, drowning out his next words so he paused and allowed them a few moments before continuing.

“She has been with us for 6 years now and in those 6 years she has accomplished incredible things and when she was done with those incredible things she moved on to outstanding things. Y/N has reminded many of us of what it means to be determined and persistent. She tackles every case with poise, confidence, and grace and that confidence has given her that 99% win record.”

Again everyone clapped. You softly smiled at them half embarrassed by the praise but half so damn proud of yourself and happy that your accomplishments were being recognized.

“Just as Malcome said, “Patrick Halsey began placing his hand on Malcom’s shoulder, “Y/N more than deserves this promotion and I expect her to blow all of our minds in the coming months and years. We just might have to add another name to the plague.”

Many in the audience hollered and hooted at that and you couldn’t lie that the greedy ambition within you salivated at that possibility. You still wanted more. You exchanged a look with Malcome who gave you an all-knowing look. You just found your next accomplishment. The founding partners took turns praising you and giving reasons why you’d earned this promotion then raised their glasses to you for the ultimate toast of congratulations. You humbly thanked them and gave a quick appreciative speech before lifting your glass to the audience.

As you drank down the tart liquid, your eye caught sight of a figure you hadn’t seen in person for almost 2 months—Lewis. He stood at the back in a black suit that clearly was made for him. His braids were pulled back in the way he liked when he was tackling more professional events. He looked as good as ever. He lifted his glass of water to you and in response you gave him a tight smile.

The same thing happened that always happened when you met one another ever since that night. Your body went through this strange cycle of reaction, excitement, confusion, hurt, anger, annoyance, and disappointment. It was exhausting. Because of these feelings, you regretted that night. You regretted allowing your thoughts to go so astray that you opened up your ‘what if’ box. You regretted every whisper, every lean in, every almost touch, every lingering look, everything. You even regretted getting out of his car when he pulled up to your condo instead of pulling him by his hair to you and telling him to go upstairs with you. you didn’t know what you regretted more.

The worst part was that you had to continue on like always. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem because that night was not the first night there had been many ‘what if’ nights over your decade-long friendship. The common factor was that both of you moved on and slinked back into the basics of your relationship—comfort and friendship. This time is difficult, so difficult you contemplated passing his case off to another attorney. If it hadn’t been for Malcome talking you out of it he would have been someone else’s responsibility. Instead, you put on your big girl panties and a mask and did something you never thought you’d ever do with him—performed.

When the crowd thinned out and everyone returned to what they were doing you began making your way back to Darius in the opposite direction. You were ready to leave. Before you got far Lewis stepped in front of you stopping you in your tracks.

“Congratulations, Y/N.”

Smiling, you thanked him.

“You look--,” his words stalled as his eyes roamed your body. You noted the conflicted look on his face before it disappeared. “Incredible,” Lewis finished.

His compliment made your body warm and something like hope filled you. Chastising yourself you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you. You look nice too.”

Lewis scoffed softly then nodded. You then tried to slip by him, however, Lewis wasn’t having it. Again, he stepped in front of you.

“In a rush to get away from me?”

“Why would you say that? Have you done anything to me for me to want that?”

Silence stretched and Lewis studied you his jaw clenched tightly. Instead of speaking, he looked down, an act of defeat.

“Can we talk, Y/N?”

“We’re talking right now.”

He gave you an unamused look, but you kept your nonchalant, innocent one. Unexpectedly Miles approached then.

“There she is--partner lady. Congratulations Y/N.”

You smiled then hugged Miles. “Thank you!”

“This is incredible news, Y/N. So happy for you.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you for coming,” you replied.

“You know me, always this fool’s plus one.”

You smiled then the silence returned for a few seconds before Lewis spoke again.

“Maybe we can go somewhere—quiet after this?”

“Unfortunately I don’t think I can.”

“Why?”

Just then Darius approached and wrapped his arm around your waist resting his hand on your hip. You watched Lewis’ eyes drop to that hand and continued to watch as his jaw turned tight as if it filled with cement.

“Oh wow. Lewis Hamilton,” Darius said turning to you, his voice awestricken. “Babe it’s Lewis Hamilton.”

You nodded as a soft smile played on your lips. “Let me introduce you. Darius, this is one of my clients, Lewis Hamilton, and his best friend Miles Chamley-Watson fencing champion and Olympian. Miles, Lewis this is my—.”

You hesitated and in the same second, you felt Darius’ eyes on you filled with hope. Two other pairs of eyes were on you--one giving complete double eyeball emoji and the other searing you almost daring you to continue. The longer you didn’t speak, you watched Darius’ hope turn to disappointment. Glancing back at Lewis you found his eyebrow up with a curious and confrontational look while Miles was the epitome of if ‘well this is awkward’ was a person.

“This is Darius Forrester.”

You felt even more like shit now. Darius shook Lewis’ hand first then Miles’. While he did Lewis looked him over sizing him up. You knew he was wondering if he was the same man from those months ago when you’d told him you were on a date.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m a fan,” Darius said to Lewis.

“Thank you. I appreciate that. I can sign something for you if you want.”

You rolled your eyes at his underhanded jab while a half chortle escaped Miles. Darius on the other hand leapt at the opportunity, handing Lewis the only thing he had, an art bidding ballot. Lewis signed the back but kept his eyes on Darius’ hand on your hip.

“Bidding on some art tonight?”

“I am. There is a piece this gorgeous angel has been staring at all night, it’ll be my gift to her for her promotion,” Darius explained rubbing your hip.

You smiled at him then kissed his cheek. Lewis now looked entertained while Miles’ eyes widened as he finished the drink in his hand.

“Ehm, anyway. So I’m sorry I can’t pencil you in tonight but if you call Kemi and make an appointment she’ll get you on the calendar for a different day for that talk,” you said.

“Plans tonight,” Miles guessed looking between you and Darius.

“Absolutely. I’ve had way too much to drink and plan on taking advantage of that.”

You leaned closer to Darius kicking up your performance another notch. Lewis smirked but also clenched his jaw to that. Miles whistled while nodding his head.

“Go on then Ms. Partner, fly by the seat of your panties or no panties,” Miles teased making you and Darius chuckle while Lewis gave him an unamused look.

“Well, enjoy your evening gentlemen. Thank you again for coming by,” you said before you made a move to walk off with Darius.

As you walked away you placed your hand over Darius’ and slyly slipped it lower to rest on your ass. You knew Lewis was watching and decided to deliver the last blow. Was it petty? Yes. Was it fair to Daius? Not at all.

The next hour or so passed with you roaming around the gallery looking at the art while Darius flirted with you. As you roamed, no matter where you went you saw Lewis from the corner of your eye and no matter how much space was between you, your skin reacted as if Darius’ touch was his. The more you felt that way the reality that Darius’ touch was in fact all his own annoyed you making you feel even worse. You knew what needed to be done and knew it had to be done soon.

The only way you could distract yourself was with glass after glass of champagne. As you emerged from one of your countless trips to the bathroom you bumped into Miles.

“Funny bumping into you here.”

You smiled warmly, “Still here? I thought you and Lewis left hours ago.”

“You knew we were still here,” he accused.

You tried to give an affronted look but failed. He was right. Sighing, your act fell for the first time that night.

“Wow. Feels good to not perform huh.”

You looked at Miles and wondered just how much he knew. He didn’t keep you in suspense long.

“What a twisted web we weave when we practice to deceive.” He scoffed, shook his head then continued, look, I am going to tell you the same thing I told Lewis.”

You perked up then but tried to play it off.

“You better stop playing before somebody gets hurt and by the looks of it, it’s gonna be your homeboy Darius if not all three of you.”

You took in his words then put your mask back in place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah you do, just like Lewis knew what I was talking about all those years ago, but he still decided to keep playing, and now look where we are.”

Your curiosity peaked then. “What are you talking about Miles? What do you think you know?”

He scoffed. “I’m a straightforward kinda guy so I’ll say I know everything. As the neutral 3rd party who is both on the outside looking in and the inside watching this train wreck, I know everything. I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me, and I know what you don’t tell him.”

Your eyes lingered and the longer they did the more you got his meaning. Glancing away you tried to pretend like his words meant nothing, but you knew you were failing.

“I get it, I really do; 10 years is a long time to put at risk but are you really putting it at risk knowing all you know? You have 10 years of proof. Man up.”

Miles leaned in, kissed your cheek, and whispered, “Let homeboy go so he can find someone who really loves him, someone who can love him. Your corner is full.”

With that, he walked away leaving you speechless and confused. Your corner was full? You had no idea whatsoever what that meant, and you were tempted to follow Miles and get some clarification, but you decided against it remembering the last time you chased down the rabbit hole. When you found Darius again his expression was somber when he told you that the painting he’d been bidding on was outbid and that he didn’t have it to gift you. After assuring him you were fine, you decided you were more than ready to leave.

Darius got the car as you waited outside allowing the cold air to cool your skin. You didn’t care that you were risking illness because it served as a needed distraction. When you felt a fabric drape over your shoulders you bristled at first but then Lewis’ scent circled you and your body relaxed. Even that annoyed you.

“I don’t need this. Darius will be back soon anyway.”

Lewis snorted. “8 months, is that a record?”

“I think it’s a record for you, but I’ve gone longer.”

He scoffed then shook his head. “No doubt, remember Y/N. I will be here long after you get bored with them all. I’m always here.”

Your eyes locked and his should have been radiating cockiness that matched his words, but instead, they were gentle, open, and vulnerable.

“Will you?”

There was no time to reply because a car horn blared drawing your attention. Darius waved at you as he got out of the car to walk around to the passenger side.

“Good night Lewis.”

You walked away from him then slipped into the passenger side. As you waited for Darius to get in and drive off, you stared at Lewis who hadn’t budged from the curb where you left him. Miles’ words echoed back to you then.

“Just like Lewis knew what I was talking about all those years ago, but he still decided to keep playing, and now look where we are.”

“You have 10 years of proof.”

“Your corner is full.”

The word ‘full’ echoed over and over as Darius pulled off. Bullshit, you said to yourself in disbelief.

When Darius pulled up to your condo you sat there marinating in all your thoughts throughout the nearly thirty-minute drive. It wasn’t until you felt Darius’ hand on your exposed knee did you realize he was still there.

“Are you okay? Want me to come up?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “We need to talk Darius.”

When you looked at him his expression said he knew just what you were about to say. Being as gentle as you could, you ended things. Although the old “it’s not you it’s me” line fit the situation perfectly. You dug a little deeper and gave him and heartfelt reason without revealing you were and had been in love with your best friend for 10 years and didn’t realize it until his feelings were already on the line. When you finished, Darius remained the good guy he was and told you he understood and that he’d expected this sooner or later. You thanked him for being good to you then began making your way to the elevators.

Halfway there you dug into the pocket of the jacket you wore and froze. When you took your hand out you held a note with your name sprawled on the front in Lewis’ handwriting.

-Y/N-

I’ve thought for months about what to say to you because there is so much to say, so much that has gone unsaid for so long that I don’t know where to start—how to start. 10 years is a long time especially when neither of us has been 100% honest with the other. I want to end that. Please.

-Lewis

You read then reread the note over and over hoping you would know what to do next but no matter how many times you did, you had nothing. So you walked back and forth in the lobby. When your phone sounded, you found a message from Lewis.

MSG Lewis: Ball’s in your court. I’m outside your building.

You froze then slowly turned and saw his car. It had been months since you’d been in a car with him and the thought of doing it again freaked you out a little. Your eyes met at that moment, but he didn’t move. He was giving you the time to decide for yourself. You turned your back to him then walked to the elevators but stopped halfway. After a few moments, you turned back around and walked to the doors only to stop halfway again and repeat the whole cycle. Still, Lewis didn’t budge. He just watched as your internal debate played out physically.

After ten minutes you stooped down and put your down, completely exhausted by your indecisiveness. Taking a deep breath, you held it and allowed your lungs to adjust. It was an action you often did to help you think and calm down. As your oxygen levels decreased your heartbeat would slow and as it did, there was always one particular beat where you figured it all out. It usually came right in the nick of time.

So you allowed your heartbeat to slow and though you should have panicked you didn’t. You thought clearer than you’d ever thought before.

“I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me, and I know what you don’t tell him.”

Miles’ words came back to you again and it was then you gasped filling your lungs with air. After a few breaths, you stood then turned to the doors. It worked all the time. With your head high and back straight you walked toward them then climbed inside Lewis’ car. Without a word, he pulled off then turned back onto the streets.

~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later you walked into a penthouse suite right behind Lewis.

“Why here?”

“Thought neutral ground would make you more comfortable.”

You scoffed and beelined right to the bar, tossing his suit jacket over the back of one of the bar stools. As you mixed yourself a drink you tried not to focus on him, but you did. No matter where he went you knew. You were hypersensitive to him at this point. You’d only meant to make a glass but ended up making a whole shaker cup. You kicked off your heels, climbed onto the bar stool then plopped yourself on the countertop. Once comfortable you crossed your legs and sipped your drink.

“Where’s Darius?”

“Not here obviously.”

“You and I are so alike it’s insane,” he said as he approached you, but he didn’t come close. He stopped at the sectional couches in the middle of the large living area and then sat.

The silence in the room was thick for such a long time you began thinking about leaving altogether.

“Congratulations again. I’m so fucking proud of you. You saw something you wanted and didn’t stop until you got it. You deserve this.”

Your stomach flipped hearing his praise. More than anyone he knew what you’d gone through to get here. It touched you. Looking away from him, you cleared your throat. “Thanks.”

His eyes remained on you as if daring you to look back at him. It was a dare you had to accept. Your eyes locked and you instantly felt it. There was so much to say. Just behind him, you saw something familiar. Squinting, you made out the painting you’d been staring at all night, the painting Darius wanted to bid on for you. It clicked then, the reason why Darius couldn’t win it was because Lewis claimed it first. You scoffed, the man was competitive and dominant to a fault. You couldn’t help but be touched by the gesture though.

Lewis sighed bringing your eyes back to him, “I don’t even know where to start,” groaned, rubbed his eyes then spoke again. “Maybe I’m sorry is a good place.”

You studied him for a few moments then took a mouthful of your drink. “For what?”

“You know for what.”

That night.

Those words hung in the air, and you did your best to remain aloof. Scoffing, you shook your head. “It’s all good Lewis.”

“You’re lying and you know it. I thought attorneys believed in the truth.”

“Who are you to tell me what my truth is?!”

You hadn’t meant to shout it, but you did.

“Because more times than not our truths match up and I am sure that what happened was not all good to you because it wasn’t to me.”

“And what exactly wasn’t all good to you?”

“The way we—I left things,” he quietly said.

You waited for him to continue because there was no way in hell you were going to make this easy for him. He wanted to talk so he’d talk. Lewis shook his head then hung it backward. He sat there staring into the ceiling for almost a full minute before he looked back at you.

“I just—flipped when we were—you were—you wanted--,” he stuttered.

You scoffed again, “Don’t flatter yourself, Lewis,” you said slipping into the barstool and spinning it around so your back faced him.

“What?”

“You and I both know that none of that meant anything to you. It’s all good.”

“Now who’s telling who what their truth is?”

You didn’t take the bait, instead, you kept your back to him and finished your glass.

“You forget, I know you, Lewis. 10 years of friendship and I know you so well that it was my own damn fault that night.”

“Whatdaya know?”

After refilling your glass you turned back around then hopped off the stool and walked toward the large floor-to-ceiling window. “I know that that you were with one of your rotation chicks before you came to pick me up. I smelled her on you. That fruity aroma was all her. I know that because of that tidbit of info, none of it meant anything.”

Leaning against the window you stared down at the view of London. Lights glistened down below, and you imagined everyone scurrying to where they had to go so wrapped up in their own thoughts or existence to even suspect that it all was fleeting.

“Okay, I’ll own that bit. Yeah, I was with one of them but that was only after I found out you were on a date.”

“So it’s my fault. I was on a date living my life, so you decided to get your dick wet. Okay.”

You took another sip from your glass not liking the direction of this little talk he wanted to have.

“I never said it was your fault. It’s just a fact. I texted you because I wanted to see you, wanted to spend time with you and you were spending time with someone else, someone you probably did God knows what with hours before you saw me.”

And with that, you were done here. Finishing the glass you turned and walked to the door.

“Good night Lewis.”

He scurried in front of you blocking your path. “Wait, please. Shit! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Two sorries in the span of twenty minutes, cool. Get out of my way.”

“No, Y/N, please wait.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I’m sick and tired of waiting. I’ve waited 10 years!”

“You’ve waited? I’ve—.”

Lewis threw his hands up then walked away grunting and talking to himself. He looked insane and it kind of made you pleased seeing it. He always appeared so in control, so aware of himself and his actions at all times. It had all gone to shit now. You stood there debating if you should just leave and let things remain how they were until the day you both just stopped talking and checking in and it ended up going on for another 10 years until you were just people who used to know one another, people who’d missed out on something. It was then you realized you weren’t wearing shoes.

“Shit,” you whispered.

“I wanted you that night. I wanted you more than I had ever wanted anyone, including anyone in the rotation. Do you know what I was doing while you were on your date?”

“Getting your dick wet. I know.”

“I was lying on Julissa’s bed as she gave me head.”

You scoffed, “Of course you were.”

“She’d been going for 40 minutes and still I was barely hard. No matter what she did, no matter the tricks, no matter how nice it felt, barely hard. I was lying on her bed with my dick in her mouth thinking about you on your fucking date.”

You looked at him then. Those were words you hadn’t expected.

“My mind went crazy thinking what was happening. The longer that went by without you texting me the thoughts killed me. As soon as I got your message I left. No other thought, just you. I prayed to God that the date didn’t go well enough for you to let him upstairs. Then I saw what you were wearing, and I couldn’t believe I was jealous. I was jealous.”

“Why?”

Lewis looked at you then. “Because he got to see you like that. You’d dressed up for him, wanted to turn him on with that outfit. He’d spent the entire night with you. He’d had what I wanted.”

Well shit, you thought before walking back to the bar. Rather than making another drink, you took up a bottle of champagne and brought it to your lips.

“Do you know what it feels like to want someone so bad that it fucks with you and everything you do? To want someone more than you’ve wanted anything. To want someone in a way that is new to you, so new that it scares you. Do you know what it feels to have this crippling fear every time that someone is in your grasp, but not being able to resist the temptation, the desire to make them yours? Do you know what it feels like to know that you only burn this bright, this hot, this dangerous with one person, and the burn is all-consuming?”

He looked almost hysterical now. “Do you know what it feels like to want the perfect someone for you? I’m talking molded for you in every way while knowing it’s not the right time for you because you both want too much from the world and because you know that because you burn so hot, so bright that you’ll burn each other if either of you ever let go and let it happen? To know you are so similar that you will either destroy each other or ruin one another for anyone else.”

The look on his face was so damn relatable. He’d just said everything you’d thought over the last 10 years. Everything.

“I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me.”

He was practically ranting now. Spewing every single thing that he’d ever thought, confessing it all.

“So because of all that you try to keep up pretenses that you’re friends and nothing more though you have countless moments where you slip up and stare at them too long, or hold them in your arms from a hug for half a minute too long, or let your hand linger in theirs or around their waist to test boundaries because you just can’t not touch them, or even find reasons to do every single thing together. You take those 2 steps forward not realizing you do because the pull is too strong, then you freak out and leap back 5 steps. You do this for weeks, months, years until 10 of them have passed and you have this huge box you’d filled with all the other stuff between you that you can’t express or fess up to until that box just gets stirred by one action, one moment--one night.”

His eyes were locked on yours. Somehow he’d traveled across the room to the bar and was standing right in front of you. Somehow he’d locked you in the frame of his arms leaving you nowhere to run. Somehow he’d managed to inflate your chest with hope right beside your thundering heart.

“Then suddenly—everything has changed, and nothing can be the same ever again,” he finished, his voice a whisper in the completely silent room.

You watched his eyes lower to your lips and your gut flipped again.

“Do you know what any of that feels like, Y/N?”

There were only mere inches between you now and the sheer proximity of his body to yours made you shiver.

“H—how long—have you—felt this way?”

Your voice quivered in a way that made it obvious to him what his nearness was doing to you.

“10--fucking years,” Lewis replied eyes glued to yours.

He took one step to you, “I’ve spent the last 8 months cleaning my life, cleaning my circle because I’ve gotten to the point where I could no longer ignore that everyone else is number 2 for me. You’re number one, Y/N.”

You were frozen in place, unsure what to say, and even more unsure what to do. He was right, your truths usually did line up and this was no different.

“And I know it scares you, shit it scares me too. All of this does. I know my life is insane and yours is about to be even more so, I get you still have things you want to accomplish; I saw your face when Halsey mentioned adding your name to the plaque. You want it and I want it for you as well as the world for both of us. Our timing can’t be any worse, but something has got to give, love, because I can’t take another year let alone 10 of this.”

You took a deep, ragged breath.

“Where--,” Lewis began before stopping and chewing his top lip.

It was a nervous tick. “Where do I—stand—with you?”

For 10 years he’d been so hard to read, so nearly impossible to gauge, and here right now in the darkness of the room you could see him as clear as day. He was oh so transparent and scared you’d reject him. Scared you’d decide he was more trouble than he was worth. Scared he’d just showed you his heart and ruined your friendship in the process. Without realizing it you were crying; you felt a tear roll down your cheek.

Sniffling, you wiped it away, “Ehm, I broke up with Darius tonight.”

Lewis looked shocked. Clearly, he thought you were still together.

“Why?”

You wiped the other tear that fell from your eye then looked away from him. All of a sudden the room felt smaller than it was, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. Lewis cupped the back of your head cradling your skull in his palm making you look him in the eyes.

“Why?”

“For the last 8 months, I’ve been hot and cold with him, I pulled him close one minute then the next pushed him away, I disappeared a lot always using work as the excuse. I was busy, yeah, but it wasn’t work. I was always so reluctant to put a label on what we were doing, every time he brought it up I changed the subject never giving him the answer he wanted. Even when we had sex--.”

Lewis took a deep breath, dropped his head, and harshly released it, clearly displeased with confirmation that he’d had you that way, but you continued.

“Even then it was usually always on my terms, and I always wanted him to leave right after. I was—I was always thinking about someone else, something else instead of him, and for 8 months I never felt anything remotely close to what I felt that night with him. over the months every time I saw you it hacked at whatever was going on between me and him until tonight seeing you again it just--.”

You flicked your five fingers indicating an explosion. I’ve become hypersensitive to you, and I don’t know when it happened. It dawned on me that—I was using Darius and it wasn’t fair.”

Lewis searched your eyes not hiding the hurt in his. You took a step towards him. “You’re right about a few things. Our timing couldn’t be any worse.”

He nodded.

“Our truths usually always line up.”

Lewis looked hopeful then.

“Your life is insane.”

The hope faltered.

“I do want my name on that plaque, and I will get it.”

A small smile crooked his lips.

Another tear rolled down your cheek and again you wiped it away, “I can also no longer ignore that everyone else is number 2 for me. Always has been because you’re my number one.”

He clenched his jaw then and the emotion that washed over his face rocked you. Like an earthquake rocking the Earth’s surface.

“I am scared.”

As this tear rolled, Lewis was the one to reach out and gently wipe it with the pad of his thumb. Your lip quivered.

“I’m so scared.”

Lewis pushed forward then, crashing his lips to yours in one swift move. Once your lips met neither of you went slow. The kiss was frenzied from the beginning, both of you wanting it all and not wanting to waste any more time taking it. As his tongue rolled with yours you closed the space between you pressing your body against him. Lewis softly moaned, wrapping his arms around you. When you bit down on his bottom lip he groaned then walked you backward until your back collided with the edge of the bar. Trapping you there once again, he kissed you without holding a thing back and your body responded to him instantaneously.

In a matter of seconds, you both were moaning against each other and completely wrapped up in the new feelings that were consuming you. Lewis cupped your face as he kissed you then ran his hands down to your neck. You couldn’t deny that this felt even better than you imagined. Moaning, you clutched his waist but when that didn’t suffice, you slowly slid your hands up along his toned abs, over his chest taking in the bulge of muscle there. When you wrapped them around his neck, Lewis pressed more persistently against you.

“Mmmm!”

Lewis tore his lips from you and put his forehead to yours. “Fuck, I don’t want to get too carried away. I’m sorry I should have asked first.”

“Consent fucking given,” you said before you crashed your lips to his.

This time you took control. Swirling your tongue with his you didn’t give him time to react or gain the upper hand. You wanted to taste him, and you refused to wait any longer. Teasing his lips, you nibbled his bottom one, taking your time to sensually suck on it until he moaned against you. The vibration shot through you making you feel like you’d only now just begun to truly feel. Lewis’ hands roughly gripped your hips, holding you steady so you could feel that you weren’t the only one finally feeling for the first time.

Heightening both if your pleasure, you sucked his tongue until he groaned. The next thing you knew Lewis’ had you by the hips lifting you onto the bar top. You wrapped your thighs around him and nearly came when you felt his hands pry your legs apart. The heat radiating off of his hand on your bare thigh reminded you of the night in his car and you prayed he didn’t stop again.

As if reading your mind, Lewis met your eyes while he slid his hand higher and higher and higher until his fingers crawled to your inner thigh. Softly he raked his manicured nails against your skin forcing a whimper from you. You bit down on your bottom lip and silently willed yourself not to cum from the anticipation. Suddenly the back of Lewis’ fingers brushed against your sex. Your gasp was loud, breathy, and stretched out as he took his time moving centimeter by centimeter until he’d trapped your clit between his pointer and middle finger. Your jaw dropped all the while he held your gaze.

When he tightened his fingers and rubbed against you, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You knew then he was dangerous, and you were going to cum.

“F—ha—fu-huck!”

Your back arched, head fell back as your body moved like it were possessed. Each spasm of pleasure had you bucking against his fingers until you could hardly breathe.

“My god you’re so fucking beautiful when you cum, love.”

You giggled and moaned as the tremors worked their way through you. “Mmm, orgasms and compliments, a girl could get used to this,” you cooed.

“Good. This is your future.”

Lewis moved his hand, brought them to your thighs then lifted them. As he planted your heels at the edge of the bar, you knew what he wanted. Your eyes dropped to his lips then you moaned. Pulling your dress away from your legs you allowed them to fall back to the bar showing him not only gymnasts were flexible.

“Oh fuck,” Lewis groaned.

You watched his eyes drop to your sex and the look on his face was unlike any you’d ever seen. No one had looked at you like this before. He stared where your thighs met like it was the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen, the first of its kind and something he wanted to completely destroy. You now felt like prey spread before him like this, like at any moment he was going to pounce on you.

“Mmm.”

Lewis came closer and closer until he rested on his elbows and was just inches from your sex. The anticipation was killing, and he had to know it.

“I knew you were a lacy knickers kind of woman,” he muttered.

“I take it you’re a lacy knickers kind of man.”

“On you, fuck yes.”

With that, Lewis hooked his thumbs in your underwear and pulled them to the side. He blew out a breath in reaction to seeing you bare for the first time and that breath fucked you up all over again. You threw your head back trying to calm your anxieties, but just when you met his eyes again you found his tongue out sliding against your wet folds.

Oh—my—goooood!”

Lewis moaned and did it again and again until he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Mmmm.”

Lewis pressed your thighs back keeping them spread then went to town. If you’d ever doubted before that his mouth game was incredible you didn’t now. He licked, flicked, and sucked along your flesh making your back remain in a prolonged arch. Within seconds you were whining and writhing as his tongue worked literal fucking magic. The sound of Lewis’ slurping echoed in the living room and that was when your hands grabbed his head. Pulling his hair free you held on and bucked against his mouth.

“Mmm.”

He stuck his tongue out and let you take over. With every buck against his tongue, you called his name and the more the tip of his tongue flicked your clit the more out of control you felt. Your release was so close your body moved more wildly needing it at all costs.

“I’m gonna cum Lewis.”

“Cum for me, Y/N!”

You didn’t need to be told more than once and when you were right on the precipice you felt Lewis slid two digits inside of you. Just like that, your orgasm morphed from a toe-curling release to soul snatching one. You screeched as your body convulsed but he didn’t stop then, he pumped his fingers in and out of you then added a third finger stretching you wide.

“Uuuugh fuck!”

You barely finished your words before Lewis threw you over his shoulder, keeping his fingers inside of you. As he walked through the suite his fingers kept fucking you, readying you for him. When your back met the soft sheets of the mattress, Lewis still hadn’t broken contact. He watched you now as you lay there unable to control your body.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Pulling his fingers free he cleaned two of them off before you sprang to your knees to claim the third. As you sucked his finger you kept your eyes on his. You could see how badly he wanted you, how much he wanted from you, and you couldn’t believe he’d held back all this time. You took your time sliding each button through its slot until his shit was wide open. When you pushed it off of him you took in a sight you’d seen plenty of times only now it was different.

You brought your hands to feel across his torso marveling at each defined ab muscle and each tattoo. When you intentionally rubbed against his beaded nipple you noted the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. How had you never noticed your effect on him? How had you never taken it seriously? Bringing your hands back to his waist you undid his pants. You brushed your palm against the protruding mass straining against his pants which made him shiver as he grunted.

“Oops.”

Lewis scoffed then licked his lips and that was all it took for him to claim back some of the control you possessed over this exchange.

“Of course, you’re a fucking tease.”

You innocently smiled. “I haven’t even begun to tease you.”

“I bet.”

Lewis snuck forward kissing you one peck at a time, over and over.

“Mm, can you take it?”

“Any other night my answer would be yes, hell in an hour my answer will be yes but right now--.”

He cupped your sex with on hand and the back of your neck with the other.

“Mmm.”

“Right now, I have no control left. I’ve remained in control around you for 10 years and right now I just want to let it all go. I want to bury myself so deep inside of you there is no mistake that we belong to each other bad timing or not. It’s you and me, Y/N.”

You groaned as his words only increased the wetness between your legs. You kissed him again, then you turned your back to him and swayed your body against him. Lewis dropped a kiss to your shoulder as his hand crept around to cup the underside of your breast. You leaned forward getting on all fours with your ass poking out to him.

“Undo me?”

He didn’t move for a few moments, and you waited for him to enjoy the view. When you felt his hand rub against your ass you dipped your back lower which only made your ass poke out more. Lewis trailed his hand along your spine that the backless gown proudly showed off. Then he went to your tailbone and lowered the zipper of the dress. Peeping over your shoulder, your eyes locked as you allowed the dress to fall away from your body.

His groan was low—primal. It was all you needed to hear to know he liked the strappy number you wore that was made of fine lace. You expected him to take his time but instead, you felt him peel off the garment leaving you completely naked before him for the first time ever.

“You’re so wet for me, Y/N. So wet and so fucking perfect.”

You spread your legs further then stretched your arms over your head using your head to hold you up. As expected, Lewis flipped you onto your back making you giggle. You roamed your hands over your body, cupping your breasts then sliding them down your abdomen to your dripping core. The entire time, Lewis kept his eyes on every move you made while he pulled his pants and underwear off.

When he stood bare before you, your surprise could not be masked. You didn’t know what you’d expected in your late-night thoughts about what he was packing but you had no way of expecting this. Lewis gripped his length then slowly stroked it as he pressed a knee onto the mattress.

“Scared?”

You bit your bottom lip as you gawked at what the good lord blessed him with. It was unfair and completely intimidating.

“Now I see why everyone in the rotation was so happy being one of many.”

He snorted, bringing his other knee to the mattress between. Slowly he stalked closer like a predator with a deadly weapon in hand.

“There is no rotation anymore.”

“Oh yeah. The LH44 Harem has been disbanded?”

As he crept closer, you slid backward.

“You’re not funny.”

“So am I the first to usher in a new era—a new harem?”

Lewis grabbed your ankle then pulled you back to him making the backs of your thighs slam into the fronts of his. He then hovered over you before dropping an opened mouth kiss on your nipple. Sucking the peak into his mouth he sucked raising your back off of the bed.

“You’re in no harem. I told you, it’s you—and me,” he said nibbling your flesh.

Stared at him letting it all sink in. You brought your hand to his bearded cheek and rested it there.

“Are we really doing this? Like—for real?”

Lewis boxed your face in with his muscular arms and stared into your eyes. “I’ve told you where I stand, Y/N. I’ve told you everything that’s in here.”

He took your hand and placed it over the roaring lion etched on his skin keeping his hand over yours.

“It’s time you tell me what’s in here,” he finished placing his other hand over your left breast.

“You,” you whispered.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Before you could react or even respond Lewis thrust forward sending the tip of his hardness inside of you, stealing your breath, and every thought. A breathy gasp filled the air. Slowly he pushed forward, leisurely filling you giving you time to adjust to his size.

“Haaaa.”

Lewis kept his hand over your heart while holding yours over his as he filled you inch by tortuous inch never taking his eyes off yours. Your entire being was on fire like he was pouring molten lava inside of you with every inch he gave you.  

“Oh fu—Lewis,” you panted.

From the way his jaw was clenched, and eyes focused intently on you, you could tell he was feeling everything you were.

“How are you so tight?”

Digging your nails into his chest you tightened your leg around his waist and as if that was his last straw, Lewis flicked his hips forward filling you completely and tearing a scream from both of your lips. Neither of you moved for several moments but with every second that passed by your body blazed. Bucking against him, you slid your hand up to his throat and then gripped it.

“I love you. Fuck me. Now!”

Those words would be your ruin because he did just that without mercy and complete recklessness. Your moans and whimpers melded together rising in decibel and power until the entire room shook with the power of your screams for one another. As he plowed inside of you he didn’t go slow, he followed his basal instincts that were imprinted in his DNA, a need to claim, and dominate.

You’d never felt so out of control in your life. No matter how he fucked you, you couldn’t get enough. No matter how deep he went you wanted him deeper. No matter how he called your name you wanted him to scream it. You wanted every fucking thing he had. You wanted to leave him in shambles. When he flipped you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing, he held your ass in the air and fucked you so thoroughly you’d lost track of how many times you came. It didn’t matter because you wanted more.

He must have been able to read your mind because there was no way he could tell what you needed this soon, you thought to yourself as he grabbed your wrists and pulled you back, so he had your upper body hovering above the mattress.

“Oh my god, I’m cumming Lewis! Ooh shiiiiiit!”

He took advantage of this new angle and circled his hips as he jackhammered into you, fucking you as you did something you’d never done before—squirted. You screamed from the force of your release, but Lewis didn’t stop, he fucked you through it then torpedoed you into another one that you knew would tear you apart. Racing for it, you slammed yourself back into him relishing the mix of pain and pleasure that only intensified when Lewis bit down on your shoulder.

“You got one more for me, darlin? Cum for me. Soak this dick, pretty girl, drench me so I can fill that pretty pussy up.”

“Aaah!”

You clenched around him as you lost yourself and fell off the cliff and into an endless pit of pleasure. You felt Lewis spasm inside of you before he cursed and shouted his release doing just what he promised. Filling your pretty pussy up.

When the two of you finally collapsed on the bed Lewis held you to him spooning you while still being nestled inside of you. Bit by bit you came back to your body and slowly your body went from violent shakes to subtle tremors and a hazy feeling washed over you. Lewis peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder nipping your skin every now and then.

“Mmm. Oh my god!”

He snorted. “You good?”

“Good? Am I good? Are you—at the risk of swelling your head even more than it already is that was--.”

“Was?”

You searched for the words but couldn’t find the right ones. “It was,” you settled on making him laugh as he held you tighter.

“Naw, I was alright, you—you were,” he said making you snort.

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m being for real for real. It’s a miracle I held on that long, you feel unbelievable, so good, too good. You—are!”

You giggled then moaned, sleepiness creeping up on you.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep, I’m nowhere near done with you.”

His manhood inside of you lurched nudging your g-spot and just like that your eyes snapped wide open.

“Watch yourself, I know your weakness now.”

“You?”

“Nope, this pussy.”

Lewis snorted then flipped you onto your stomach again. This time he straddled you as he slowly pulled out of you only to plunge right back in.

“Mmm.”

“Still so damn tight,” Lewis groaned.

“You’re welcome to try stretching me out.”

Lewis jerked his hips forward delivering a bruising thrust as punishment for your your sassy mouth. It was a thrust that took your breath and made you go cross-eyed.

“Mmm, yes!”

“Oh, aren’t you full of surprises. Pretty girl likes it rough and hard.”

He did it again and again, making you hit the bed each time as you buried your face in the sheet to muffle your screams.

“God yes, Lewis!”

“So fucking alike,” Lewis said before lowering his lips to your ear. “Remember I love you 'cause I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Not waiting for a reply he held your arms to the bed then delivered on his promise. Everyone else was number 2 compared to you being each other’s number 1. Nothing else mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #everyone else is no.2 one shot #black fanfiction

[firewhiskykiss]

I’VE GOT MY EYE ON YOU | DM / YOU

draco’s eyes have been following you everywhere, even to the prefects bathroom. requested by @dolcid <3

a/n • this was so much fun to write. i didn’t know what genre i wanted this to be so it’s a mashup of everything!!!! and all of my current ideas. i could’ve made this sm longer but i decided to keep it short.

theme • angst, fluff, sexual allusions but no explicit smut.

warnings • bullying, nobody likes you, you’ve got no friends, nonconsensual sexual advances, some sexual content, complicated feelings, rejection, angsty stuff, kissy stuff, etc.

word count • 4.8k

petulant. that is how you would describe draco malfoy. not that anyone would bother asking for your opinion. you were of the firm belief that bullies never wholeheartedly meant anything they said, that it usually came from a place of unresolved insecurity. draco malfoy was that sort of bully - the annoying, insincere sort, that probably only did it for some corrupt form of entertainment or to compensate for his dreadful hair. but his style was nevertheless cruel. he had an aptitude for humiliation and throwing insulting pieces of parchment at the back of your head during lessons. he loathed the sight of you. your brother, harry, was not much above malfoy’s bullying, and silently enabled every vile remark that the blonde boy threw at you. despite the unremitting teasing, you noticed that your brother appeared to have lost his tongue every time he bore witness to these events, and failed to stick up for you, despite your own fierce loyalty towards him.

you and harry and been bought up similarly, but in your first year at hogwarts together it transpired that harry was much less affected by the dursley’s abuse than you were. he became a brilliant, albeit cocky, boy with lots of friends and you seemed to drift in the opposite direction. by the time the second year of school had come around, you had no friends and had been thoroughly ostracised by your own twin and his two best friends. it made no difference that you and harry shared the same blood, it was irrelevant to almost every student and teacher in the school with the exception of luna lovegood, a girl who was as equally rejected as you were. you had to admit, even you found her a bit excentric sometimes, but she had a heart of gold and you couldn’t fault her.

it wasn’t uncommon for unkind students to play pranks on the both of you. once, you had found a pair of your shoes tied to the branches of the whomping willow. you would have loved to say that you were brave enough to retrieve them but you and luna had consecutively agreed that your lives were not worth a pair of scruffy, canvas pumps.

today, you had defence against the dark arts with professor snape. you’d learned to expect teasing and paid no heed to it, treating it as indifferent to the rest of your daily routine. you heaved your book up onto the desk and mindlessly inked the date onto your parchment. the fact that malfoy was yet to start flicking black ink at your school shirt was almost concerning, so you mustered up the confidence to glance at him over your shoulder. although you weren’t able to make out his snide remark, it wasn’t hard to infer the nature of his words because his face was screwed up with disgust, as if he’d just sniffed something foul. he usually looked at you like this when he was saying something callous.

as the gaunt teacher strode down the aisle of desks, he jabbed at the fact that your last piece of homework had been smeared with an unrecognised green substance. that had been the fault of malfoy’s goons, you recalled.

“ten points from ravenclaw.” you could have sworn the professor had nearly been snarling at you when he returned your assignment by slapping it onto the desk infront of you.

subdued by his harsh glare, you sunk into your seat hoping it would be enough to hide you from the sniggers of your classmates or, more severely, hoping that you would disappear.

malfoy arrogantly hollered, “nothing new with y/l/n, sir, she’s completely useless.”

“as much as i regret to divulge the truth…” snape droned on, “it seems you leave me no choice but to agree with my pupil, miss y/l/n. i must implore greater care from you next time.”

with a weak smile you looked up at your teacher and apologised, ignoring the eyes that bore anonymously into the back of your head. they were malfoy’s, but you were preoccupying yourself with the wall.

malfoy was an expert in his field. at some point he had gone from being an annoying little boy who only picked on you for your slovenly, second-hand uniform, to becoming one of your greatest anxieties, howbeit intelligent and even better at avoiding reprecussions. at the same time as malfoy had transcended this level, you noticed that he’d also started to outgrow the puppy-fat around his face, broaden around the shoulders and get increasingly taller. dare you say, he was becoming quite handsome. this wasn’t something you conciously thought about, you were too busy removing the hexes from your possessions before bed every night.

his goons, crabbe and goyle, marvelled the ground he walked on, to make matters worse. suppose malfoy didn’t show up for a lesson, you could unfortunately rely on crabbe and goyle to ravage your mood instead.

malfoy enjoyed having you on ropes, his victories came as a breath of fresh air because he was so used to overconfident gryffindors standing their ground. you were easy to break, not that he got any sadistic pleasure from ruining your day. the rationale behind it was that teasing you bore resemblence to a sort of callow game, it was a childish delight. at a push he found it cute when you reddened with embarrassment when he teased you. guilt was only small component of the game, he scarcely felt it. he might’ve felt remorse if he’d ever seen the tears in your eyes, but you never gave him the satisfaction.

you felt something suddenly bounce off of your head and land on your desk, it was a note. the hand it had come from was disciplined, their writing was neat however there wasn’t alot of it, instead an animated portrait of you being dangled in the air by the branches of the whomping willow tenanted most of the space. you furrowed your eyebrows.

“who…”

“surprised you don’t recognise my handwriting by now.” quipped a familiar voice. you shuddered. “never been one to pay attention though have you, y/n? i think that’s why you’re failing most of your classes.”

he wasn’t wrong. but it would be a whole lot easier if you weren’t subject to constant abuse.

“actually-” you began, prompting malfoy’s lips to curl into an unpleasant smirk. he cut you off before you could thoroughly begin.

“maybe if you weren’t so busy concerning yourself with that lunatic friend, you’d have room for school in that tiny brain of yours.” malfoy didn’t care who else he brought down in the process of taunting you. “or is it - remind me, what are they called again? the wrackspurts? total nonsense.”

despite the scorn in his voice, you detected something soft behind his eyes. everything about his expression mocked you, except for the eyes which studied you, to the point that he almost looked fascinated on the contrary to his angry eyebrows. his eyes followed your hand down to the piece of parchment and watched as you tucked it into your pocket.

strange. he thought. he’d expected you to throw it away, but instead you’d kept it on your persons like a souvenir of his cruelty.

in the strictest of confidence, he thought it was cute.

he thought you were cute.

the following day, you had care of magical creatures. you pursued a winding path that was swallowed by the forest on the way to your lesson. the grounds were impeccably preserved. you had always found yourself mesmerised by the school’s unworldly beauty: the dulcet choir of birds in the morning; the unflinching snowdrops; hagrid’s mountain of brilliant, orange pumpkins; the pine trees that shed their needles across the underwood. you were nature’s undeclared admirer.

you had learned to quickly tame your school book this year, by stroking along the binding as if to comfort it, but your fellow classmates were slower to this realisation, which made for a very messy walk to lesson. neville’s book wrestled him to the ground and tore at his uniform, by the time you had all formed a circle around hagrid, neville had been dismissed in order to find a new set of robes because his lay in shreds on the forest floor.

“wouldn’t do you much harm, y/l/n”, malfoy chorused, “weren’t you saying that you needed new uniform?” he said, gesturing to your faded cloak. the soles of your shoes were also coming apart.

“just leave it, malfoy.” you sighed defeatedly, clutching your book to your stomach.

“i’m quite good at fixing shoes, i learned a few things from the cobbler in diagon alley”, he started, lowering his wand to your feet.

to little effect, you began to step back, the other students paying more attention now to malfoy than they were the lesson.

“taranallegra!” he thurst a cloud of purple smoke at your feet, and stepped back to admire his work.

your legs soon become restless, you were hopping from one side to the other, until you were involuntarily dancing infront of the entire class. it wasn’t something you could resist, if you’d strained any harder your legs might have snapped in two. it took hagrid few strides to reach malfoy because of his huge legs. then, the teacher grabbed the boy by the scruff of his collar and growled.

“you undo thats now or i’ll ‘ave yer sent up to dumbledore this instant!”

hagrid’s narrowed eyes pressured malfoy into searching desperately for his wand, but the boy wasn’t successful. whilst you jigged uncomfortably, a small mound of black fur hurried to your side, it was a creature you had been studying as part of your elective, an innocently disposed niffler, whose small paw was wrapped mischievously around malfoy’s wand. the slytherin gulped and the niffler looked up at you with a pair of sinless eyes, they twinkled. if creatures could smile, the niffler would have been smiling. it tapped your shoes, sweetly ending the jig, and scampered behind your legs to where it hid from malfoy’s long, condemning finger that pointed straight at it.

“professor, that thing has stolen my wand!”

“oh shurrup, yer slimey toad.” hagrid groaned and released malfoy’s collar with some force.

the teacher winked at you kindly as he picked the niffler up with two hands, like a small puppy, and pulled malfoy’s wand from it’s grip.

it was difficult to say who had been more embarrassed.

“you’ll pay for that, you pathetic halfblood.” draco sneered, snatching his wand back from hagrid without thanks. his two goons crossed their arms threateningly over their chests and smirked. they were like puppets - funny looking ones with protruding features and round tummies. at this, you laughed and turned your back on malfoy for the rest of the lesson leaving him to stare at the back of your head with a heavy chest.

he felt he’d gone too far. he wasn’t sure why. but that didn’t dissuade him from ensnaring the tree roots around your feet with a dark charm to wind themselves around your ankles.

“MR MALFOY!” bellowed the giant teacher. the niffler ran up to malfoy and mounted his leg, attempting to bite him with it’s blunt teeth. you would’ve found it funny if you weren’t bound to the forest floor. in typical fashion, harry undid the hex - ONLY because he hated malfoy just as much as you did.

actually, you weren’t sure if you hated him. you just hated that he hated you.

weeks had passed now. the sad smile you cast towards hagrid at the end of the lesson was the denouement of malfoy’s bullying. in the weeks that followed, he’d been battling an unfamiliar feeling of guilt. it was foreign to you as well, but you’d been feeling, noticeably, lighter and draco had been observing your newfound happiness.

it was fine. it didn’t bother him. not one bit. he spent most of his time convincing himself that he didn’t miss your… altercations. perhaps he meant interactions? he certainly couldn’t besmirch himself by apologising, that was too far. so he had to ignore you.

until one evening he found his goons picking on you in the library.

you had taken up harry’s reluctant offer to study with him and ron in the library, ron hated the idea, but harry had learned to tolerate you ever since malfoy had stopped ridiculing you. truthfully, you were less of an embarrassment to him this way.

you had left your desk to find the book that you needed, when a cold hand prevented you from pulling out of the shelf.

“whatchu need that for, ay?” you recognised crabbe’s uneducated accent.

“just studying…” you hadn’t missed this. the constant apprehension. perhaps you’d let your guard down too much, you’d stopped excepting it. knowing your luck, malfoy would probably appear soon and start being cruel in some way or another, and crabbe prolonged the minutes by staring down at your cowering figure.

goyle was stood there too, lethargically pressed up against the bookshelf opposite you.

“what should we do with you? draco’d kill us if he thought we were here-“

“-taking the liberty to annoy you ourselves.”

they completed eachother’s sentences like twins.

“bet your brother’s glad to be shot of you for a few-“

“but we could do him a favour and make it a lot longer if you’d like us to.” goyle teased while crabbes hand made it’s way through the folds of your robe.

“no, i don’t think that’s-“ you tried, but crabbed pressed a fat finger against your lips to silence you. you knew that any attempt to escape them would be done in vain, they would have already planned ways to stop you. goyle dipped his chubby mitts into your pocket and took your wand, tucking it into his back pocket. nifflers were an unlikely occurrence in the library. all of your options were exhausted.

“no, please-“ as crabbe’s hand rode up your thigh, goyle went suddenly rigid and slumped onto the floor, your wand rolling out of his pocket onto the stone slabs.

“patrificus totalus!” you’d closed your eyes expecting to be the victim of another immature prank, but you mistaken. the anonymous wizard had missed and the spell rebounded off of the bookshelf, causing crabbe to retreat into his neck fat and turn around.

“malfoy?!” you choked, surprised. he looked at you but he didn’t acknowledge you, in the same way that he picked up your wand and shoved it abruptly into your chest, but refused to say a word.

instead, he gritted at crabbe and poked his wand viciously into the folds of his skin.

“the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at?” at the same time, he kicked goyle’s pleading hand away from him and grimaced at the lump on the floor. “consider yourself lucky, the pair of you.” he threatened, taking crabbe by the collar and tossing him down to the ground .

“pathetic.”

you must’ve accrued some sort of respect from malfoy after the incident with the niffler.

the look that crossed malfoy’s face was not explicitly guilty - until your eyes began to well with tears. after everything, you’d hoped to be immune to everybody’s incessant wickedness but it had somehow come to this. scooping up the book you’d been after, you brushed past the slytherin, whose mouth had fallen open to say something but failed him.

over the days that ensued, you were left to ruminate as to why he’d bothered sticking up for you at all. draco malfoy hated you. there was no means of distracting you from these thoughts, especially now it was the holidays and luna had gone back to spend it with her father.

you were one of few students that stayed at school during the holidays. you and harry. malfoy’s father had insisted he spend his spring break at hogwarts to focus on his studies, he was keen for his son to make a success of himself, if only he knew about his extracurricular activities. in some ways, you preferred it when the other students left to see their families, but your biggest headache still sat across from you at all meal times.

you noticed that draco’s eyes had become less hostile, more watchful and there was no distracting you from that, either. every time you looked up from your plate, his chin was connected to his palm in a manner of deep, undisrupted thought.

his blue eyes followed you through abandoned corridors, up enchanted staircases, though his feet maintained a fixed position.

silly, conflicted draco.

he was beginning to feel things that he wasn’t used to, that provoked him to behave strangely. if you ever confronted him about his actions, he’d justify them by saying that he was simply protecting you, because you were truly incapable of protecting yourself, supposing that no one had slipped veritaserum into his morning pumpkin juice.

malfoy was on his way back to the slytherin common room after quidditch practice, when he’d noticed the sound of footsteps in suspiciously empty cloisters. darkness had stolen the day. it was cold. he whispered “lumos” to his wand, and followed the fading noise. he was also unconsciously trailing after a familiar scent - something that echoed honeysuckle. meanwhile, you were unaware that malfoy was skulking behind you.

you’d borrowed harry’s invisibility cloak to slip into to the prefect’s bathroom late at night. you unlocked the door and hung harry’s cloak on one of the many hooks. when malfoy realised what he’d gotten himself into, he held his breath. he immediately felt like a complete pervert. not only was he unaware that it you was you hidden beneath the cloak, he’d also been unaware that this was the prefects bathroom until he got himself locked inside.

you began to shed your layers, your tired robes of the day, your figure appearing to draco in the moonlight. the moon kissed your skin shamelessly through the stained glass, draco tried to keep his eyes trained on the floor, but your body was an invitation to a temple he’d yet to worship.

just as you submerged yourself in the bubbles, he stepped forward, clearing his throat. he’d since put his light out and dropped his wand on the floor, leaving little light to highlight his features. the looks you gave eachother were a surprisingly comfortable exchange, you felt fine so long as the bubbles covered everything that made you shy.

“i didn’t realise you were following me, draco.” you whispered gently, pulling the bubbles into your breasts, careful not to melt them with the water dripping off of your hands.

“nor did i.” he chuckled breathlessly, eyes blown wide with fascination.

neither of you had yet noticed the snow falling softly from the ceiling, it melted too quickly in the water, for draco’s magic was attuned his feelings of guilt. this also spurred feelings of sadness, hopelessness and desperation - he desperately wanted to be forgiven. around the bath grew tiny, white posies of mistletoe that also harmonised with his feelings. but these feelings were of a different nature, but he lacked the adequate vocabulary.

everything that had been repressed was surfacing in the bathroom.

“why are you here, draco?”

“i’m sorry, it was an accident, i should be goin-“

you extended an arm out of the bubbles and grabbed his ankle.

“but i haven’t said thank you yet.”

“for what?”

“for sticking up for me.”

malfoy stiffened and shrugged, his back still to you. if he looked at you for any longer, he’d turn the bathroom into a garden.

“yeah well, i don’t mind a prank. but they took it too far. i don’t like you any more, i don’t hate you any less.” he lied, causing the flowers to suddenly wilt. you noticed and frowned, cupping your cheeks in contemplation whilst your elbows rested on the side of the bath. the snow from above delicately crowned your head.

you now bathed with an uncomfortable silence, draco couldn’t bare it any longer. he withstood all of his words, all of his beliefs, and turned around quickly, kneeling down and pulling you onto his lips by the face.

he moaned longingly, wetting your mouth with his kiss. you returned the gesture with keen interest, using your arms to hoist yourself out of the water, although you were no longer hidden by the bubbles and your chest was flush against his quidditch uniform, making it wet. you were only far enough out of the water to reveal your top half, the bubbles still hugged your little waist, he loved it.

he pulled back quickly, shaking off his green uniform and leaving it in a careless heap on the floor to be soaked as he jumped into the water. draco was considerably bigger than you, however thinner. he swam to you, pulling your legs around his waist and snogged you up against the wall of the bath, blonde hair how damp and rugged-looking. he had kept his underwear on as courtesy, but it was clear you cared little for chivalry as you lips made their way down his neck.

“i’m sorry, y/n, it was supposed to be a game,” he breathed, slowing your endeavours, and pulled your focus up to his eyes by holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “got out of hand…”

despite all of the heat, and the fact that you requited the feelings inhabiting his cold heart, it wasn’t going to work out with draco the way you hoped it would. you weren’t pleased to submit yourself to a person like that. you deposited these feelings quietly in the water, in the hope they’d disappear down the drain along with all of the bubbles, and petals…

previous discrepancies between you and draco made you reluctant to kiss him any further, you even welcomed thoughts of hating draco, it would have been so much easier to let go of him that way. still, you loosened your grip on his hair and shook your head.

“it would be too foolish.”

he preciously rubbed your cheek with a thumb and disagreed, “then be a fool for me?”, innocently cocking up an eyebrow. he’d never felt so vulnerable, if you rejected him he’d have to drown himself or do something spectacularly awful, he thought.

then, he thought he couldn’t possibly be bargaining with you. he cringed slightly and pulled his hand back too. he had stripped to not only reveal the best of him, but all of the worst too. he considered remorse, and vulnerability to be a few of the worst qualities, that were redeemed by the big package in his underwear. it was childish, his way of thinking. you were accustomed to it.

it would have been nearly too easy to make draco malfoy your friend, let alone your lover.

you were surprised that the sun hadn’t begun to dazzle you through the stained glass mermaid. what felt like epochs, transpired to be 2 hours after you’d returned to your dormitory in a fluffy robe and slippers. that night, despite how tired you felt, you couldn’t sleep soundly with draco malfoy’s kiss weighing on your conscience. and the fact that you’d rejected him.

when the term resumed, you expected your kiss with malfoy to have been forgotten about. rather than teasing you for your tatty uniform, he instead discovered ways to flirt with you to an insufferable extent, they worsened day to day. it was his revenge. because you challenged his disposition. because you lead him astray. because you seduced him with that perfect, perfect body of yours. because you forced him to admit that he didn’t hate you at all. because you -

you.

it was all your fault.

despite however much you pretended to hate him, you couldn’t deny the ghost of his hands nor the way they’d pawed at your breasts and loved you. yearning for him seemed to consume you more than hating him, but deliberately nosey glances from your brother made it difficult to reciprocate anything out-loud during lessons.

one day, he’d leaned over to “borrow your textbook” in potions, his cool breath making contact with your ear as he muttered a sly “thank you” to which you valiantly fought him off with an elbow and snatched the book out of his hands.

you craved him. and bickering with him was but a lame excuse to touch him, because it looked strange any other way. so you both unrelentingly fought the other. you hit his arm, you elbowed him as much as you had to if it meant you could feel close to draco malfoy. because loving him was not an option.

at night it wasn’t your heart, but your pussy that needed him, for so many consecutive nights you clutched your pillow to the warmth between your legs and rocked back and forth, wishing he was there.

perhaps it would be sufficient to fuck eachother and avoid the subject of love all together? you wondered this sometimes. you wondered about things like this when you shouldn’t have been, when you should have been paying attention to professor snape’s arrogant ramblings. perhaps you should try and forget about that night in the bathroom for good? move on? unlikely. these thoughts usually occurred to you in quick succession and overwhelmed you for the rest of the day.

it would’ve been an ordinarily overwhelming day if malfoy hadn’t seized you from within the alcove he’d been hiding it, and covered your mouth with his big hand.

“i must be going crazy, y/n.” he started angrily, “i haven’t thought about anything else.”

his eyes were crazed, his mind was demented, his heart was torn. you fiddled for your wand, even though you knew you wouldn’t need it, but he stopped you anyway and pinned your hands to the stone wall behind your head. he was gripping you so tightly, his knuckles had turned white.

you weren’t religious, but you’d mistaken draco for the devil. clearly, something had been tormenting him all day, he looked disturbed, and it was making you tremble.

“get off me you dog!” you whisper-shouted, above the sound of a party. you assumed slughorn must’ve been throwing one of his do’s, judging by the raucous music and the smell of alcohol lingering on malfoy’s breath. funny, he wasn’t usually invited to events like that.

his robes were smarter than usual. he was always well dressed but they weren’t embroidered with his house crest, and his tie wasn’t green, instead it was all black and stylish, his blonde hair combed neatly either side of a middle part.

“dog? dog?! you-“

“SHUT UP!” you shouted, because you couldn’t put your hand over his mouth.

“you can’t just kiss me the way you did, and expect to forget about it!” he seethed at you, burying his knee between your legs, making you gasp, “my heart talks about nothing else.”

“no one else.” he continued sincerely, silencing his heavy breaths against your forehead, but it was hardly a kiss.

“you must be drunk, draco.” you tried weakly, but in vain, because you were moaning when he kissed you for the second time in your short life.

“who’s the fool now?” he questioned, mumbling against your lips between short kisses, “you have been mine, the whole time i have known you. you never knew it.”

you had no fond memories at hogwarts besides those shared with draco. as he looked upon you with fierce eyes, you came to the uncanny realisation that your entire teenhood had revolved around him in some way or another, fate had been twistedly weaving you together. you hadn’t been intending to tie your soul to his every time you’d fought him off with a glare, or ruined the other’s day. every tear you shed was his, he owned every feeling you’d ever felt in human extremity, all of the smiles he’d watched from across the hall were contingent on his actions, and for too long he’d abused this power.

his hold on you relaxed and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for seconds. his tongue ravaged your pretty mouth, and licked yours. you knew what the kisses would lead to, if you carried on in such a way that had draco panting for breath and lowly whining when you denied him the chance to grind against your hips. your innocence was his, too, to bear and to deconstruct. he did just this, leading you on foot through the halls, before he grew impatient and threw you over his shoulder, handling you through the door of the slytherin common room and throwing you against the leather sofa.

he crawled ontop of you, discarding his black robes on the floor and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, exposing so much more than skin.

“don’t you ever try anything like that again,” he said furiously in reference to your attempt at denying all the obvious feelings you had, and wrapped his hand delicately around your throat.

“i’ve got my eye on you.”

#draco malfoy #draco x you #draco x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fic #draco angst #draco smut #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter fanfiction #slay!

[satorusugurugurl]

Never got a request for them you say…

I know i request way to fucking much but I can’t help myself I love ur writing🫶

Butttt hear me out adult trio gojo geto shoko with fem reader. I’m thinking professional reader, who has an exhausting but rewarding job comes home exhausted, but her 3 lovers cheer her right up <333

Could be fluff or smut, I just need them in my life Fr

-🍭

Welcome Home!

Character: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Shoko Ieiri, FAB!Reader

Word Count; 2,853

Warning: overworked reader, nipple play, oral sex, praising, making out, achohol consumption, Geto in a fucking apron has me FERAL

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I had lots of fun with this one 🥵🌶 Spicy loved it 1000000/10 would recommend.

Everything hurt, from your feet to your back, as you exited your car, the garage shutting behind you. You had been gone for twelve hours, leaving at six and getting home when you'd left this morning. But you couldn't complain. Your business had taken off, and as CEO, you had responsibilities to take care of, which tended to keep you away from home longer than you'd like, but the paycheck was worth it.

You had started your own candle company in college. Book tropes, characters, and television series inspired the candles you made. Your shop had been small, and you were content with that. Until your partners suggested advertising on social media, reaching out to authors, broadening your horizons. You hadn't expected much, maybe a couple of dozen more orders, a few rejection letters from said authors. What you hadn't been expecting was for your products to go viral, and several authors jumped at the opportunity to commission you for custom character candles.

Your tiny little shop became a big-time shop so fast it had your head spinning. You shipped orders worldwide, made custom customer orders, and were featured on several podcasts. Your company was close to being a multimillion-dollar company with several locations. While exciting, and you didn't need to worry about money, it was exhausting. Long hours, dozens of meetings, and business trips were your new norm; it came with the title CEO. You loved your job! There was, however, one downside.

You missed the fuck out of your partners.

With your position, you could take care of the house payment and utilities. Allowing your partners to do whatever they want without worry. Shoko was studying to become a surgeon, Geto was working on a novel, and Satoru was your biggest investor; seeing as he was from a wealthy family, he could do what he wanted. And what he wanted was to help your company grow. Things were perfect; it justified you working so hard all the time. Some days were more exhausting than others, but it was also gratifying. Your partners could pursue their dreams, and as long as they were happy, so were you.

”I’m home.” You announced mid-yawn, removing your heels and setting them to the side. You ventured into the living room. The condo was clean and tidy, as per usual, thanks to your amazing partners. They took such good care of the house when you were gone.

“Welcome home.” Suguru greeted you from the kitchen. Both the mouth-watering aroma of prepared food and the sexy man stopped you in your tracks. “Thank you for all of your hard work today, Princess.” He wore gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into his signature half up half down style.

The best part of his whole outfit was the apron. Good god, it was illegal! The black apron went around his neck and tied firmly around his waist. It read, ‘My meat is 100% Going In Your Mouth’. It was a gag gift, one you’d need to thank Satoru for purchasing. Suguru was wiping his damp hands on it as he made his way around the island, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

You melted in his embrace, your arms snaking around him as he kissed the top of your head. “Thank you. It’s good to be back.” You sniffed at the air, happily groaning at the scent of food. “That smells absolutely amazing, Sugu!”

“You had a long day, so I made one of your favorites.” You followed him into the kitchen, staring at the four neatly prepared plates of perfectly prepared katsudon and fluffy white rice. ”I was finishing up the salad. It should be done in a few minutes.”

A warm body pressed against your back; the smell of clean linen and musk followed the body's movements behind you as Satoru rested his chin on your shoulder. “I hope so, I’m starving.” The whiny tone that resonated from Satoru had Suguru rolling his eyes at his antics as he chopped up lettuce. “But not as hungry as you probably are. You busted your ass today, as usual.” Soft lips peppered your cheek with kisses.

“It was a very long day.” You reached forward, grabbing a slice of cucumber off the cutting board and popping it in your mouth. “But it’s well worth it.”

“Long day; I guess this calls for some sake,” Shoko added, handing you a glass of chilled peach sake.

You took a long sip, humming at the sweet taste that danced over your tastebuds. “Shoko, what would I do without you?” Your exhausted-looking girlfriend took a long sip of her drink before pressing a kiss against your lips.

”You would be stuck with these two idiots.”

“Hey!”

Satoru pouted, while Suguru just shook his head with an unbothered chuckle. The carefree atmosphere and warm aura had you relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders as the four of you sat down for dinner. While you ate and conversed with them, your partners looked you over while you weren’t paying them attention. Suguru took note of the dark circles under your eyes before looking at Satoru from his peripheral vision. He had noticed the circles along with how your skin appeared paler tonight. Dark and blue-hued eyes focused on Shoko. Her dark brown eyes examined you as she would a patient.

The three of them reached the same conclusion: you were exhausted, burning the candle at both ends. They knew very well how seriously you took your job; your work ethic was nothing to be sneezed at. No matter how sick or tired you were, you constantly pushed yourself to do more, to provide for them. Your motivation was fueled by positive forces, and there was nothing wrong with being driven by a goal.

However, the moment your goal began to run you down, that’s when you had a problem. You needed a break—some time to rest properly and recuperate. The three of them set their plan into action just with mirror eye contact.

“All right,” Suguru stood, collecting the dishes off the table, “Satoru and I will clean the kitchen. Shoko, why don't you take our sweet girl and get her relaxed?”

“Oh, don't be silly, I can help.” You followed them, collecting dishes that were snatched away from you by Satoru. “Hey, I can help!”

Shoko gently grabbed your hand, her slender, delicate fingers interlacing with yours, pulling you towards the bedroom. “It’s not a matter of you being able to help or not; we all know you’re perfectly capable of that.” Shoko gently squeezed your hand before pushing you back against the bed. “It’s more of a matter that we want to take care of you.” Those same soft fingers that had gently held your hand began working at the buttons of your blouse. “So please don’t fight us on this. You’re exhausted.” Your chest moved up and down, your steady breathing quickening as she exposed your torso. “Just lay back and relax.”

A breathless sigh escaped you as her soft hands groped your breasts in both hands, squeezing the soft mounds. “A-alright, then, let me touch you too.” You reached for her breasts, her nipples erect, peeking through the thin fabric of her white t-shirt. Your fingers just grazed over the fabric, straining against her hardening buds, when she pulled back, out of your reach. “Shoko, why are—” Her lips met yours in a soft, delicate kiss, one that emanated her true intent and desires.

”Have you been hanging out with those two morons too much?” Soft fingers, unclasp the hook in the front of your bra. “What part of ‘lay back and relax’ did you not understand?” Warm caresses of your girlfriend's skin felt like a burning fire over your tingling nipples.

“But I hate not making you feel good.”

“Baby,” Shoko chastised, leaning down, gently flicking her tongue over one of your nipples. “You make our lives comfortable; you do so much for us.” She kitten-licked one of the buds, nearly sending you off the bed. “There will be plenty of other times for you to join in. For tonight, relax and enjoy being a pillow princess.”

You were hesitant to listen to her, but as you relaxed against the bed, you realized just how tired you were. Laying back, your head cradled by the pillow alleviated some of the throbbing pain in your upper back. Plus, you weren’t often told to be a pillow princess, to lose yourself in the pleasure. This might be precisely what you needed tonight.

Without any further protest, you melted against the bed, your hand gently running through Shoko’s long, silky hair as she suckled and nibbled at your nipples while her hands massaged your breasts. I felt so good to be touched so gently. It was a drastic contrast to the boys, who roughly groped and nipped at your sensitive breasts. No matter how many times they saw your breasts, they were still the teenage boys you met nearly a decade ago. Breasts were, and always would be, some of their favorite things. Shoko, on the other hand, knew what felt good, how to get those little moans and whimpers to escape your mouth. If the woman was given the chance, she very well could make you orgasm from your nipples alone one day.

”Oooh my god, S-Sho—” That day was today, “Shoko, f-feels so good, really good.” Your nails gently grazed her scalp before you tugged on the strands of her hair. “H-Holy shit.”

Your girlfriend giggled, sending vibrations to stimulate your already sensitive nipples. “Yeah? Feel good—“ her pink tongue swirling tantalizingly slow around them, “so good you’re going to cum like this?” A tiny whimper was the only response she received. “Such a good girl for me. Go ahead, baby.” She groped both your breasts, pushing them together, allowing her to suck and nibble at both your nipples at once. “Cum for me.”

Shoko pressed her knee against your clothed center, and that was all you needed to cum. “N-Nggh! C-cumming~ S-Sho! Fuck!” you withered and squirmed, your hips rocking g against her knee, extending the sweet pleasurable waves that rocked you to your core.

She was watching you get off from just the brush of her knee, and her mouth on your tits had Shoko giggling softly. Your face was twisted with pleasure, slowly shifting into a more lax face as you finished riding the waves. Once your heavy breathing turned into soft, content sighs, she pulled back with a grin. She’d like to see the boys try and get you off solely from your tits. Because she knew neither had the patience or skills for that.

“Good job, Shoko.” Your eyes fluttered open as the bed shifted. “Got her nice and relaxed for us.” Shoko sat back, watching as Suguru and Satoru crawled up the bed. “How are you feeling, sweetheart, better?” Satoru hummed as he unzipped your skirt, tugging it down.

“Mhmm, a lot better.” You lifted your ass off the bed. Allowing Suguru to tug your thigh-high stockings down. “Sho always takes good care of us.”

“Mmm,” larger hands forced your legs apart, “I can see that.” Suguru hummed, trailing a finger up and down over the wet spot on your panties. “She made you cum, and you did such a good job.” His fingers hooked under the lace hem and tugged them down, throwing them somewhere across the room.

Suguru’s fingers pulled your wet folds apart, admiring the slick coating of your lips and how your arousal seeped out of your tight entrance. His thumb pulled the hood over your clit back just enough, allowing him to rub sweet, gentle circles around the bundle of nerves. While he teased your clit Satoru nestled himself between your legs, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs up to your dripping sex.

“Mmm, I was wanting dessert.” His hot breath teased your twitching cunt. “Thanks for the meal, sweetheart.” His tongue dipped out, tracing teasing circles of your entrance. His wet tongue and Suguru’s thumb had you gasping, arching off the sheets. Your hips jolted forward, silently begging for more. “So fuckin’ needy~” Satoru growled into your pussy. “Normally, I’d make you beg, but you’ve been working so hard you deserve a reward.” His tongue dipped past your tight entrance, gently swirling it as he licked at your inner walls.

With Satoru’s tongue spearing you, working the muscle inside your pussy, Suguru takes the chance to lean down, kissing and sucking at your swollen nipples. “Fuck, you sound so pretty; make more sounds.” His teeth gently graze over the bud. The sudden sensation made your body jerk forward, here widening as his skilled mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking on it hard.

“Suguru,” Shoko sits on your other side, “try swirling it gently~ like this.” A raspy sigh shakes through your entire body as Shoko demonstrates her technique on your other nipple. “This gets her going.”

“Oooh~ I see now.” The dark-haired man watched Shoko closely, nodding as he observed her momentum. “So I need to do—“ his eyes meet yours as he flattens his tongue, “—this?” His tongue matches Shoko’s face as pressure, sending tingles coursing straight to your pussy, where you clench around Satoru’s skillful tongue.

Blue eyes widen as feeling the gentle spasms of your cunt on his tongue. Your wetness seeped out, coating his tongue, mouth, and chin. “Mmmphmm~ yeah.” His voice is hoarse with unfiltered, pure need. “She fucking likes it~ her cunts hugging my tongue, keep it going.”

Hearing the filthy words, Satoru spoke motivated his best friend. Suguru kept his ministrations up, his eyes darting between Shoko and back to you, doing his best to keep up with her pace, mirroring her movements to the exact inch. In turn, Shoko’s hand dipped down, pressing gently on your lower abdomen.

“S-Shiiit!” You hissed, lifting your head an inch, watching as your three beautiful partners worshiped you. “Ooooh haaah!” You arched, squirmed, and twitched on Satoru’s tongue. Your partner's fingers, tongues, and lips moved faster as you screamed, one hand gripping the sheet as your other hand thrust into Satoru’s hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as you rocked against his face.

“Good girl~” Suguru growled against your nipple. “Goood fuckin’ girl~ cum all over Satoru’s face.”

Shoko nodded her head in agreement, her hand pressing harder against you. In doing so, she put pressure on the coil that was twisting and twisting inside you. Satoru groaned loudly inside of your pussy, feeling your walls twitch slightly around him; the tiny movements had his tongue lapping faster and harder, rubbing against your g-spot with every flick.

The combination of all three of their efforts made you scream and squirt. Coating Satoru’s tongue and face. Watching the stream of clear liquid coat, Satoru’s face had Suguru rubbing your clit faster. Extending your orgasm, making you squirt again again.

“Oooh, that’s it! Good fucking girl!” Suguru praised while Satoru glowered at you. Not in anger or disgust, but in feral fucking need. His mouth and tongue didn’t stop moving as he drank all of you in, working you over the dips and rises of the orgasm that nearly took your life. He only pulled away when you grimaced, shaking at the overstimulation of his mouth, and that only happened because you yanked him out of your pussy.

“Mmm~ such a good girl~” your slack mouth was suddenly being kissed by Shoko before Satoru crawled up, slotting his mouth against yours, allowing you to taste the sticky, tangy essence of your cum. “She was the best, wasn’t she, Satoru.”

The white-haired man pulled back, collecting the remaining traces of your cum with his pointer finger. “She’s the fucking best. No questions asked.” You lazily watched as he offered his finger to Suguru.

“Oooh, thank you.” Dark eyes trailed over you before he smirked, gently wrapping his hand around Satoru’s wrist and leading his finger into his open mouth. You choked on a breath as you watched Suguru bob his head up and down Satoru’s finger, ensuring all of your juices were clean. “Mhmm, so sweet. Shoko, have a taste.” Your girlfriend grinned slowly, leaning over your spent body, kissing Suguru with full tongue to get a taste of you. Their tongues swirled and massaged the other for what seemed like an eternity before they broke the kiss with a string of saliva and your cum connecting their tongues. “Isn’t she delicious?”

“She’s sweeter than the peach sake from dinner.”

With a gargled moan, your head fell back against the pillows as your lovers all leaned over to examine your face. Your pale skin from earlier was flushed a darker shade, your eyes were hazy and distant, and if this were an anime, they were sure you’d be spurting a nosebleed right about now. The trio exchanged knowing glances and gentle smiles. You did so much for them. The least they could do was give you a proper welcome home.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk reader smut #jjk #jjk y/n #jjk gojo smut #jjk reader insert #jjk men #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk shoko #jujitsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen shoko #gojo imagine #geto imagines #shoko ieiri #gojo satoru smut #geto x reader smut #gojo x Geto x Shoko x reader #jjk gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader x geto #gojo x reader smut #shoko x reader #shoko x reader jjk smit

[jesterwriting]

jesterrr!!! my lovey dovey!! congrats on 200 !!

for the event, i was thinking perhaps ace + cowboy casanova would be a good match… heheh 🤠 no specifics in mind; do whatever you’d like!

i hope you have tons of fun with this event! ♥️

pairings: cowboy!ace x gn!reader

word count: 2.4k words

contents: cowboy ace, saloon worker reader, riding under the stars, fluff, flirting, ace is a sweetheart, first kiss, ace has a southern accent and so do you, nicknames used: sugar, sweetheart, darlin’

note: HAAAAIII LIV THANK YOU SO MUCH <33 i had so much fun with this request. i didnt know how badly i needed ace with a southern accent before i started writing this but zoo wee mama…. hes so…. hehe. i hope you enjoy reading this! <33 thank you so much for the request :3

playlist: cowboy casanova - carrie underwood

“He’s a good time Cowboy Casanova, leanin’ up against the record machine.”

done for the 200 followers event!!

The sun was down and the saloon was full. Your feet ached in your boots as you carried another round of drinks to a nearby table, offering a sweet smile and a nod to the folks sitting around it. The night was young, and you were already exhausted with the sudden influx of guests. You didn’t know why your dingy little town was so busy, considering it didn’t have much besides a ranch or two to its name, but it was flooded nonetheless.

Whiskey flowed like water here. You were nothing but a provider to the poor parched souls who wound up on your doorstep.

It had been a year since you started working at Dusty’s Saloon, aptly named for the dust that usually settled itself along the bar, and not once had it ever been so hectic. Of course, there was a fight every so often. You couldn’t mix men and beer without one brewing at least once a week. This, though? This was brand new. You caught sight of a few folks brandishing an emblem you didn’t recognize, either around their necks, on their belt buckle, or most surprisingly, tattooed on their body. Delia, your more privy coworker, would probably know what it meant. You would ask her if you had a second to yourself, but considering how the night was going, you doubted you would be able to.

“And here you are.” You set your final two tankards down on a table, meeting their thankful grins with one of your own, before you settled behind the bar. There was a short lull in your workload. Your boss was busy in the back, likely smoking, and you took the opportunity to take a short breather without one of his sharp reprimands.

If you got time to lean, you got time to clean, he’d say. If you ever heard that bullshit again, you’d show him what for, you swore on it. With a sigh, you started cleaning one of the glasses.

“Now, what’s got a pretty young thing like you lookin’ so down?”

You jumped, nearly dropping the rag you were working with. There, leaning against the counter, stood the most handsome man you had ever seen. His hair was black, deep black. The kind that looked inky under the light, styled short in the front and long in the back. He wore a tasseled vest, the musculature of his arms on display for all to see. You must have been staring because he flexed a little, his biceps bulging. When your eyes found his face, you were stunned by the constellations of freckles scattered across his cheeks and the friendly smile that adorned his lips.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He cocked his head to the side.

It was embarrassing that you were so easy to read. Frowning, you narrowed your eyes and gestured to the spirits behind you. “What’ll you have?”

“Don’t be like that, sugar, I was only sayin’ hi.” The man put his hands up in fake surrender, a playful gleam in his eyes. The spurs of his boots jingled when he readjusted himself against the bar.

“If you were just sayin’ hi, you’d be gone already.” You couldn’t help it when your lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. He was cute and he knew it, that was the most dangerous kind of man. Lucky for him, you didn’t mind a little danger.

He ignored you and tipped the brim of his hat. “Name’s Ace.” When he was met with silence and crossed arms, he continued, “Normally, this is where you give me your name.”

“Well, you ain’t gettin’ it.”

Eyes still sparkling, Ace grinned. “Well, fair’s fair. I tried. Have a good night. Come find me if you change your mind, alright, sugar?”

“I won’t,” You called back, knowing it was a lie. He must’ve known too, because he shot you a wink before settling at a far table to sip on his drink. Cocky bastard.

It wasn’t until you started cleaning a glass did you realize a smile had split your face right in two. You felt your face warm. Too easy to read, indeed. Ace probably knew you were putty in his hands from the first hello.

You heard a whisper of your voice from the backroom. Delia was looking at you from the crack in the door, hurriedly gesturing you over. Fond, you rolled your eyes and tucked your rag into your belt loop.

“”What d’ya need, Delia?”

Before you could blink, she pulled you into the room by your lapels. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dim candlelight in the back, and another second to register that your friend was looking at you with a mix of fear and disbelief.

“What do you think you’re doin’ talkin’ to Fire Fist Ace?” Delia whisper-yelled.

You blinked a few times before gently unclenching her fingers from your jacket. “Fire Fist who? Honey, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Grabbing the back of your head, she focused your attention on the man who was pestering you at the bar. He had fallen asleep in his chair. A smile wormed its way onto your face at the sight.

“Him! Fire Fist Ace, one of Whitebeard’s boys. You don’t mess around with one of his,” She exclaimed.

“Whitebeard’s boys? I thought they were two towns over.”

“No, dummy, they’re right here in our town stirrin’ up all sorts of nonsense.” Delia turned you by your shoulders and looked you dead in the eye. “Listen to me now, Y/N, you don’t mess around with Fire Fist Ace. Girls, boys, anyone, he’ll go for ‘em all and he’ll use you and leave you out to dry. That’s what I hear.”

“Yeah, well you hear all sorts of stuff. Not all of it’s true.”

You tried not to flinch when Delia gasped so loud, a few heads turned in your direction. “Do not tell me you’re thinkin’ of foolin’ around with that boy.”

With a sheepish grin, you ducked out of her hold and spun back out to the bar. “No promises, Delia.”

Ignoring her scandalized expression, you found yourself waiting tables again. When you found yourself near Ace’s table, you set a cup of fine whiskey at his side. The chilled glass met his skin, waking him with a start.

“Oh, it’s just you, sugar,” He drawled. Ace looked down at the whiskey, smile still in place. “I didn’t order this.”

“The name’s Y/N, and it’s on the house.”

His index finger trailed circles along the rim of the glass as he stared up at you. “Pretty name for a pretty little thing like you. I like it.”

You snickered, “Didn’t ask if you liked it, though I can’t say I’m not flattered”

“Why don’t you come ridin’ with me tonight?” A few of the men at nearby tables snorted and you were reminded of his reputation. Did you really want to get involved with someone who’d only break your heart? To your surprise, the answer felt obvious. You cocked your hip to the side and gave him a smile.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, cowboy.”

The grin that bloomed across his face was boyish and sweet. “Darlin’, you’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”

—

It was late by the time you finished cleaning up. The crowd had left, likely back to Whitebeard’s camp, wherever that was. Delia left an hour ago, but not before giving you a disappointed frown. Fine, she could be disappointed all she wanted. You were ready for the whirlwind romance you’d been denied your whole life. You were young, it was time to take a chance, and if that chance was on a cowboy you met a few hours ago, so be it.

Said cowboy was asleep in his chair with his hat over his eyes. A bit of drool trickled from the corner of his mouth and onto his vest. Now that the bar wasn’t blocking you from his lower half, you noticed his belt buckle sported the same emblem as the other patrons. He was one of Whitebeard’s boys, that was for sure. A bit of trepidation swirled in your chest, easily snuffed out when you remembered how kind he’d been all night. Here's to hoping your gut was right, and Ace was the gentleman you believed him to be.

You gave him a gentle shake. Ace snorted before cracking an eye open and taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Mornin’, sugar.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” You laughed.

“‘S mornin’ somewhere,'' He slurred, still half-asleep.

Giggling, you poked his cheek. “C’mon, wake up. What about that ride, cowboy?”

That got his attention. Ace perked up like a dog that just heard the word ‘treat.’ His hat was skewed, and he adjusted it with one hand, the other wrapping around your shoulders to lead you out the door. “You’re gonna have the time of your life, sugar, I can promise you that.”

You clenched your fists to keep your nerves at bay. This was so unlike you, going off with a stranger in the dead of night. Ace seemed to notice your anxiety and gave you a squeeze, body warm against your own. It was comforting. You sighed, leaning into his embrace as you approached his horse. It had a beautiful brown coat, the same color as his eyes, and black mane, almost matching his own. Once, Delia had joked that all cowboys resembled their horses. It wasn’t until you were staring at Ace under the starlight did you start to believe something so ridiculous.

You doubted he’d consider it a compliment if you compared him to a horse, so you held your tongue.

His horse whinnied when she saw you. Ace placed a comforting hand on the side of her neck, smoothing out her fur. “Hush, girl. Don’t you worry now, they’re sweet like you.”

You slid next to him and elbowed him in the ribs. “You never know, I could be gettin’ you alone just to kill you.”

Ace snickered, “Wouldn’t be the first, wouldn’t be the last, but you would be the prettiest.”

“Oh, quiet now.” A flush heated your cheeks as you lightly slapped him on the shoulder.

He seemed proud of himself for flustering you. With a practiced ease, Ace hefted himself into the saddle and scooted up so there was room for you. Patting the seat, he gave you a grin. “Need a hand, sugar?”

You had never ridden a horse before, you weren’t above admitting it. Sighing, you took his hand and tried not to think about how easily he lifted you with one arm, even with your foot in the stirrup. Once you were in the saddle, you wrapped your arms around Ace’s waist to steady yourself. He gave your thigh a final pat, then let out a loud yip, and the horse was off.

Without permission, a laugh bubbled out of your throat. You squeezed Ace, anxiety mixing with pure, unadulterated joy as the wind whipped your hair. Stars glittered overhead, the full moon casting the landscape in a silver glow. Ace was warm, and the night air was cold. Unable to stand the chill, you buried your face between his shoulder blades, ignoring the rumble of a chuckle that shook his entire body.

“Havin’ fun back there?” A bit of genuine concern leaked into his tone. “Need me to slow down?”

You wondered if he could feel your body shaking. Not from fear, but from excitement.

“Faster!” You cried.

Ace whooped, “Yeehaw!”

Laughing at the cliche, you felt your stomach drop as his horse picked up speed, dashing out of town and into the plains. The sound of hooves on hard ground echoed in your head. Adrenaline sang in your veins, making you dizzy and desperate for more. The two of you rode like this for a while before the horse slowed to a canter with an easy pull of her reins and a click of Ace’s tongue.

“Where are we?”

Ace looked back, excitement evident on his face. “Took you somewhere special to look at the stars.”

At his words, you looked up to see the entire night sky open in front of you. Countless clusters of stars formed webs, intertwining with one another in a sea of purple and blue. There were no clouds to block the view, it was a perfectly clear night, save for a few wisps here and there. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight.

Ace slid off the saddle and offered you his hand. “Hey. No peekin’”

“How can I not? It’s beautiful.”

Unlike before when he only pulled you by your arm into the saddle, Ace’s hands gently gripped you by the waist and lifted you with an ease you weren’t expecting. You were no waif, but he was deceptively strong. He looked down at you with soft eyes, smoothing out a few strands of wind blown hair with his palm.

“You’re beautiful, sugar.”

“Why do you keep calling me that if you know my name?”

His eyes flickered to your lips. “‘Cause you’re sweet.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been mouthy all damn night.”

“A man can dream.”

With that, he kissed you, lips pressed softly against yours. He tasted like whiskey and he smelled like a hearth. Cozy and warm, like home. To your surprise, the kiss was chaste, over almost as soon as it began. Ace’s cheeks were bright red when he looked down at you.

“I heard you were a real casanova, surely you can kiss better than that,” You teased the already flustered man.

Ace’s blush darkened. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Around.”

He snickered at your non-answer. “Every cowboy’s got a reputation for rollin’ around in the hay. Can I be honest with you?”

“I hope you’ve been bein’ honest with me all night, but I suppose it’s better late than never.”

Leaning down until his breath ghosted across your cheek, he whispered, “That was my first kiss.”

You smirked and pulled him closer until the two of you were nose to nose. “I think now’s as good a time as ever to get some practice in.”

“And the next night, and the next night,” Ace asked, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“And the night after that,” You said, bringing him in for a kiss.

#one piece x reader #portgas ace x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x y/n #.jesterwrites

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Tease (18+)

Pairing: Dom!Aaron Hotchner x Dom!Spencer Reid x Sub Fem!Reader

Dedicated to @hausofwhores <3

WC: 3.1k of the nastyyyy

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY // MINORS DNI), threesome, dirty talk, brat taming, oral (m and f receiving), very light bondage moment, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, power imbalance, light slapping, some choking, just a smidge of degradation and humiliation, spit kink, edging, swearing aaaand i think thats it but lmk if i forgot something!!

A/N: I LOVE WRITING THREESOMES!! And who better to write about than these two 😏 i literally wanted more content of threeways with them sooo thought i’d make my own hehe im literally frothing at the mouth this was so fun to write hope you like and aaaaaaaaaaaa

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You loved being a tease. 

There was no polite way to directly ask someone to fuck you brainless, after all, so you had to get creative. It was an art that took some time to perfect; A thrill you would never tire of. Especially because you knew it was going to cost you eventually. 

And it seemed tonight was the night you would pay your dues.

All week, you had ramped up your efforts, in a not-so-subtle way. Your usual targets were Spencer Reid and Aaron Hotchner, but the way to tease them was vastly different.

To get under Hotch’s skin, brattiness was necessary – Glossy, pouty lips and clothes that hugged your curves just so, which were sure to attract his eye. Just a little less willingness to follow orders, paired with sassy remarks and little eye rolls. Catching him looking at you and winking, always feigning innocence. It drove him insane, truly.

As for Spencer, the key was to get him all flustered. Words whispered close to his ear, fingers toying with the curls at his nape when no one was looking. Your undivided attention when he rambled about his interests, a small smile tugging at your lips. Playfully defending him from Morgan whenever he kept needling poor Spence.

What you didn’t know was that they’d been formulating a plan to get back at you.

The team had just returned from a case in Colorado, all at different levels of exhaustion. You and Spencer climbed into Hotch’s SUV as everyone broke up in groups to head home. The two men sat in the front, and you sat in the middle seat in the back.

Spencer was uncharacteristically quiet, twirling his thumbs anxiously. You could tell something was on his mind by the firm set of his shoulders and the way a muscle in his jaw ticked.

“Hey, Agent L/N, you up for one last little adventure?” Hotch asked, glancing at you through the rearview mirror.

You nodded eagerly, not thinking anything of it, hoping this adventure would involve food. But you passed all the commercial areas, soon crossing onto a more residential area. The drive was mostly silent, and there was a palpable tension in the air. Much to your surprise, Hotch soon pulled into his apartment’s parking garage. 

“What are we…” You started, but Hotch cut you off. 

“Oh, we’re just gonna go up to my apartment and have a little chat,” he said. “I think you’re in need of a lesson to remind you of your manners, which have been severely lacking as of late.”

You blinked, momentarily unsure if this was really happening. Realization hit you all at once, making you shudder. You pressed your thighs together as a broad, cheshire cat style grin spread across your face. 

“Oh? Is that so?” you asked, feigning innocence despite the mischievous look in your eyes. “I’m so sorry, sir. I just have no clue what you’re talking about.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I wouldn’t make things worse, if I were you,” Spencer said, voice low and almost sympathetic. 

Oh, but that was the whole point, wasn’t it? You liked fanning the flames, especially when you had a clear view of Hotch’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. You couldn’t help but squirm a little in your seat.

Once the three of you were in the elevator, heading up to his floor, Hotch placed his hands on his hips. His eyes searched your face for any sign or discomfort or hesitation.

“This is exactly what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He asked, which was his way of checking you were actually okay with this.

You bit your lower lip, batting your eyelashes. “Was I that obvious?”

The two men shared an incredulous look, and Hotch shook his head once more. His voice lowered, momentarily losing some of its edge 

“Well, if you change your mind at any point…”

“I won’t, trust me,” you stated, winking in Spencer’s direction to further drive the point home.

As soon as you were past the threshold of Hotch’s apartment, you tried to reach your hand towards him, but he took a step back.

“Reid, take your tie off and bind her hands,” Hotch ordered. “Since she doesn’t seem to be able to keep them to herself.”

You raised an eyebrow, a cocky smirk on your lips. “Can’t tie me up yourself, sir?”

You could hear Spencer’s intake of breath behind you, along with the slight rustling of fabric as he slipped his tie off. He knew well you were in for it.

As he gingerly tied your hands behind your back, Hotch stepped forward and grabbed your face with one hand, lust and fury darkening his gaze.

“Just who do you think you are?” He growled. “Being such a smart-ass to your superiors? It’s really no wonder you’re in dire need of some discipline.”

You couldn’t help shivering a little as a tingle trailed down your spine. He noticed this, of course, and he grabbed your arm and walked you to the living room.

“On your knees,” he commanded, and you immediately complied. “Any ideas, Reid?”

“I say we put her mouth to good use,” Spencer said. “That way, she won’t be able to talk back.”

You nodded in Hotch’s direction almost imperceptibly, letting him now it was okay to proceed. He gestured towards you as he began undoing his own tie, undoing the top buttons of his shirt.

“I think that’s an excellent idea. She’s just been such a naughty girl with you too, hasn’t she? Why don’t you go ahead and remind her of her place?”

Spencer nodded, undoing his pants and pushing them down just enough to pull his cock out, lazily tugging at it. Your mouth watered at the sight, your hands straining against his tie in your desire to get them on him.

He stepped closer, his free hand coming to rest at the back of your head, guiding you forth. 

“Tap your foot three times if you need me to stop,” he whispered, just loud enough for Hotch to hear so he knew the signal as well.

You appreciated them both for being so considerate, despite everything, but you knew there was a slim chance you’d be taking them up on it. This was a punishment you more than gladly welcomed. 

You stuck your tongue out and swirled it around the head before wrapping your lips around it. He let out a sigh as you took more of him into your mouth, the soft underside easily sliding against your tongue. 

You hummed around his length, eyes momentarily fluttering closed. His movements were slow as he began shuttling his cock in and out, getting closer to your throat each time.

“There we go, that’s better,” Hotch praised, which made you open your eyes once more. “Go on, get to work. I know you can take him deeper.”

His hand replaced Spencer’s, and he gathered your hair away from your face, holding it as he guided your head. He kept it down when you’d reached the base of Spencer’s cock, nose against his pelvis. 

You breathed in through your nose, tears pricking your eyes at the effort. Then he relented, letting you come up for more air, drool spilling all over your chin.

“Just look at the mess you’re making. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Hotch said, making you look up at him. 

With his free hand, he palmed one of your breasts over your shirt, which made you arch your back. You smirked, licking your lips. 

“I want more,” you said.

“Oh, do you now?” He raised a dark brow, half amused. “Greedy thing. Think you can work two cocks at once?”

Your pupils were blown wide with lust, chest heaving with rapid breaths. “Yes, oh god, yes.”

“She hasn’t learned a thing yet,” Spencer tsked, feeling more bold now that he was so aroused. “Say please, now.”

For a moment, you stubbornly pursed your lips.

Hotch gave your cheek a little slap then, sharp enough for you to feel a sting, but light enough for it to not have a lasting impact. The smirk never left your face, heat roaming all over your body.

“Please use my mouth,” you said finally.

And so, Hotch undid his slacks as well, tossing his belt to the side. The head of his cock glistened with precum, which you eagerly lapped up. He hissed a little as your tongue made contact with his skin, which was the only indication you were getting to him more than he was willing to admit. 

The two of them took turns fucking your mouth, Hotch being rougher than Spencer. Still, you did not ask them to stop. You could feel that your panties were absolutely soaked, some of your arousal beginning to trickle down your inner thighs. Your cunt clenched around nothing, and you shifted in a futile attempt to get any sort of friction.

It was Hotch’s turn now, his fingers buried in your hair. You didn’t break eye contact as you worked him, hollowing your cheeks. He truly was a sight to behold, giving in to pleasure like that – hair disheveled, eyes glazed over, mouth a little slack. His low moans were music to your ears, the smell and taste of him utterly narcotic.

“Filthy girl… who knew you’d be such a diligent little cocksucker?” He said, groaning. “I think you’ve earned use of your hands once more, but only so that you can take those clothes off. No need for them right now.”

Spencer took the chance to kick his pants off and he knelt behind you. He untied your arms, massaging them a little in the process. You released Hotch’s cock with a loud pop, and obscene string of saliva still connecting your lips to it.

Spencer helped you stand and hurriedly, you began undoing the buttons of your shirt. You soon tossed it aside, along with your bra. He reached around you to undo your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear. 

You could feel his shaft pressed against your lower back, still hard and demanding attention. Arching your back, you ground your ass against it, still not done with your teasing ways.

With a small hiss, Spencer pulled back and smacked your ass. Your body jerked a little at the contact, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips, your nipples hardening. Your senses felt heightened, every touch to your skin almost electric.

Hotch chuckled at this. “A brat through and through.”

“It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?” Spencer said. “She’s dripping and yet we’ve barely touched her at all.”

“Let’s see,” Hotch said, stepping right up to you, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them. 

You gasped as he reached down, his fingers parting your folds. He slicked them with your arousal, his middle finger sinking into you. Your lips parted in a soundless moan, and he brought his fingers to your mouth, making you taste yourself. 

You hummed around his digits as you sucked them clean. He retracted them with a low groan, this time grabbing your face to kiss you. It was a ferocious, hungry kiss, in which he dominated your mouth. His tongue parted your lips, tangling with yours. Your head spun as his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

You felt Spencer’s broad palm on your lower back, gently pushing you forward a little. He knelt behind you once more, this time spreading you open and licking a long, languid stripe through your folds. His tongue swiped the inside of your thigh, subsequently raking his teeth there before chasing away the sting. Then, without warning, he buried his face in your cunt.

You let out a shuddery, “fuck” into Hotch’s mouth, your eyes screwed shut and brows drawn together. Your hands gripped his strong arms tightly, anchoring yourself lest you utterly lost yourself in the decadence of Spencer’s tongue. 

“You poor thing. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He smirked down at you, gently wiping hair away from your forehead. 

His fingers stroked your face, and he used his thumb to open your mouth. He let a trail of saliva fall into it. You swallowed, body involuntarily beginning to squirm a little in an attempt to find your release. Spencer’s hands kept your hips pinned in place as he continued his relentless, delicious torture on your clit.

Your body went rigid as he inserted one finger into you, pumping it in and out at a steady rhythm. He soon added a second one, curling them inside you to reach a spot that had your vision swimming. He pulled back only to bite one of your ass cheeks, which made you whine as you clenched around his fingers. 

“Don’t make her come yet, Reid. She hasn’t quite earned that,” Hotch warned.

Spencer nodded, returning his smirk. You huffed in frustration, which earned you another little slap, this time on one of your tits. Hotch’s hand came to rest on your throat, barely squeezing, as he made you look at him. 

“What’s that, sweetheart? You don’t like being teased?” He taunted. “It’s not so nice, is it?”

“I never said I was nice,” you grinned slyly.

Spencer pulled back once more, standing up this time, which only left you even more frustrated. “Tough to break, this one.”

“Not for much longer,” Hotch assured him. “We’re yet to fuck the attitude out of her. Come on, get on the couch, hands and knees.”

He shoved you towards it, and you quickly positioned yourself. With his knee, he spread your legs further, one hand on your hip while the other probed your slit.

“You’re on birth control?” He asked, and you nodded in response. “Good, cus we’re both gonna fill up this pretty pussy once we’re done using it.”

You felt his cock lining up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. You moaned his name, pushing your hips back to take more of him. He tsked, two hard smacks landing on your ass to make you stay still.

“So fucking needy,” he grunted, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing your head down to rest on the couch. “Be good and I’ll give you what you want.”

His hand remained on your head as his cock bottomed out inside you. He was impossibly deep at this angle, reaching places you never thought possible. When he started to move again, his thrusts were hard and fast, almost punishing.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, nails digging into the cushion as desperate, almost inhuman sounds leave your lips. You couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it, any sort of coherent thought flying out the window as he fucked you like an animal.

“Y-you should feel how her pussy’s clenching right now,” Hotch said through gritted teeth. “Sucking my cock back in every time I try to pull out… fuck. Do you want to come, sweetheart?”

“Yes!”  You begged, right at the edge and unsure if you’d be able to hold it. “Please, please, please…”

“Hmmm, well, since she’s asking so nicely,” Spencer purred, stroking his own cock slowly, flicking his wrist near the tip.

“Come for me,” Hotch rasps, moving his hand away from your head to grab your hips, pistoning in and out quickly. “I want to feel you coming all over my cock.”

That was all the encouragement you needed, the tight coil in your stomach finally snapping. You cried out as your muscles locked, stars exploding in your eyelids as you gushed all over his cock, clenching around him even harder than before.

He came with a low groan soon after, shooting ropes of cum into your throbbing cunt. His movements stopped, keeping himself fully sheathed inside you as he rode out his high. 

When he pulled out, you felt it trickling down your thigh, coalescing with your arousal. He helped you raise the upper half of your body, kissing your spine. He brushed your hair away from your face, lightly massaging your shoulders.

“You okay?” Hotch asked, his voice losing its hardened edge to give way for. 

“Yes, sir,” you said, smiling beatifically.

He thought you looked so beautiful then, utterly unraveled and flushed with euphoria. That smile of yours was different from the others, more open and genuine. Oh, you were most certainly trouble. He could already tell this wouldn’t be a one time thing.

He kissed you, mirth dancing in his dark eyes.

“There’s a good girl, so docile now that she’s been fucked silly,” he got up as you turned to lay on your side. “Let me get you some water and something to clean you up.”

Hotch went to the kitchen, and because you were such an insatiable creature, you reached towards Spencer.

He chuckled, letting you pull him towards you, and he lied behind in order to spoon you. You turned your head to kiss him, tasting yourself still on his lips. Reaching behind you, you grasped his length and blindly tried to line it up with your entrance.

He helped you out, sinking slowly into you. He was much gentler, thrusting slowly and deliberately, never breaking the kiss. His hand trailed down your body, towards your overly sensitive clitt, rubbing it in circles in tempo with his thrusts.

The two of you shared breath as he picked up the pace, a languorous heat spreading through you as you came for the second time that night. Spencer followed suit, moaning against your skin as he moved to kiss your neck.

“So perfect…” he sighed.

Hotch soon returned with water for everyone, as well as a couple of towels. Spencer unsheathed himself from you, and they both took the time to gently clean you up as you downed the water. 

You grabbed Hotch’s shirt from the floor and draped it over your shoulders, scooting closer to Spencer as he sat back down. You tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, kissing his cheek. 

He blushed a little, which you found utterly charming, given that they were both so domineering mere minutes ago. Hotch leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Think you’ve learned your lesson?” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at you.

You snickered, grinning impishly with a shake of your head. “I might need a reminder… or two.”

The two men shared an amused look. They’d have their hands full with you, that was for sure.

Hotch took your empty glass to go refill it with water. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner smut #spencer reid smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #minors do not interact #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #ssa aaron hotchner

[pennyserenade]

the devil hath power

part two: the game

pairing: coriolanus snow x f!reader, coriolanus snow x you, coriolanus snow x nameless reader (no use of y/n) rating: m (mature, 18+) tags/warnings: talk of suicide, talk of death, talk of sex work, classism, a little bit of power play, power imbalance, food mention, alcohol mention, tigris snow cameo <3 word count: 3.6k+ summary: Coriolanus and his 'friend' begin to play a game neither of them are prepared to lose. a/n: the link to part one of this story can be found here (tumblr) or here (ao3). part three of this will follow very quickly after this one - maybe a day or two later - i promise. i've written a good chunk of it, as i intended to post this all one part, but it became much too lengthy. also, if you want to be tagged in the next part of this - or other stories like it - you can sign up to my taglist here or follow my updates blog @belovedinfidels and turn on the post notifications. thank you a ton for all your support and love. it's been lots of fun interacting with you all and writing for this fandom.

part one | part three

The money for what had conspired between her and Coriolanus came quickly, as he had promised it would. In the early hours of the next day a nondescript envelope, along with a sizable clothing bag, was delivered to her door by a nameless Avox. The amount was far more than she would’ve charged him, and yet not enough (as it always seemed to be).

However, it was the contents of the clothing bag that surprised her most of all. When she opened it she found a finely made pantsuit, feminine in its cut but masculine in its style, with wide shoulders and flared pant legs, but a more tapered, closely fitted waist. The fabric was not inexpensive either; it was a costly wool in a light burgundy shade, not unlike the color he had worn when he’d approached her in the club. She ran her fingers beneath the peaked lapels, admiring the work of what must’ve been his in-house tailor.

Though she enjoyed this gift—it was far more expensive than anything she’d purchased for herself in years—she did not feel particularly warm nor grateful towards its giver. She took the suit and hung it in the closet of the main bedroom, where she kept all her finest items, and did not think about it again until the next week.

To say Coriolanus filled her thoughts during this time would be a lie; he slipped in occasionally as she conducted business, but did not remain for more than a moment. Young men, with their heads full of ambition and tongues thick with Capital accents, brought her back to moments in that darkened bedroom, watching Coriolanus’ pupils blow wide, his lips twitching, his voice lower. The earnest clatter of teeth provided by Monday’s man reminded her of Coriolanus’ bruising intensity. The cool touch of Thursday’s regular brought her back to Coriolanus’ fingers beneath her chin. Saturday’s newcomer had blue eyes, which were infinitely kinder and much more open than Coriolanus’, but still filled her with a wave of repulsion. But it was nothing, harmless meanderings to make the time pass.

The only time she truly allowed him to invade her truly invade her thoughts was the following Sunday. The same Avox that had delivered the suit and the money returned with another envelope. Whereas the previous one had been free of design, of name, of anything that could mark it back to Coriolanus, this one bore all the signs of him, from the golden rose seal to the loopy script that read out his name.

The Avox stood at her door, staring down at the envelope in her hands with some urgency. She got the hint, opening it up without her usual regard for its design. Quickly her eyes scanned over the contents. She frowned softly; he was inviting her to a soirée at his apartment, asking if she would so kindly RSVP or decline and then send it back immediately. The date was not far away—only two short days. This, the invitation implored, was why the RVSP - or the decline - was so urgently needed.

Of course, she checked yes. How could she not? The previous envelope was evidence enough that Coriolanus followed through more than enough in terms of money, and wasn’t that all that mattered? When she handed Avox the invitation, the woman handed her another envelope. This time she did not stick around to watch her open it.

When the Avox left she sat down at her kitchen table, putting the envelope in front of her. Somehow she knew that whatever was inside its folds would impact her life in a way so few things had, and she was not yet prepared for it. Her eyes trailed over the details of the room, focused on the dampened quiet, the emptiness that lay in the elongated dining table with no guests to fill it.

As a child she had loved this room, perhaps more than any other, for it was a basin of social activity. Her mother had been a lively host and her father a jovial one at the head of the table. Wine had flown freely and their plates had been filled with food they had not known to appreciate but in retrospect. There had been nights when the guests got so drunk and so merry, and they found her innocence and her childishness compelling, cooing as she weaved her little body through their legs beneath the table. In the next room there used to be a grand piano on which she would sit with her mother after dinner concluded, and listen to her sing to the guests. Her father, a typically stoic man, would slouch against the piano and look at her mother and herself with a fondness she would never forget. How beautiful love feels when it's all gone, dried up except for the aching ghost of it rattling in the bones of a once beautiful home.

The truth of it was that her parents were dead and this home was all she had. When Coriolanus called it a museum, he wasn’t too far off. Not much had changed since her mother had died. So much had been taken before, as the Dark Days reached their peak and the hunger became unbearable. Everyone who had been beautiful and lively at those dinner parties became hollow, and thin, including her parents. It was her father who died first, but when he went it was as if her mother had died, too – it only took a little longer. Seconds, days, weeks, a total of two years until it was truly over.

It was a frightening thing to witness as a child, the destruction of something as sure and sturdy as one’s mother. She had not been told of the gruesome demise of her father, only that it had been attributed to the war. It was only later that she would find out that he had died by his own hand, that he had left what little funds they had with her mother, found an empty home, and did away with himself. His death had affected her but none so much as her mother’s had. She had to become a spectator of her mother’s failing health, watched as the rot of it filled their home, and sat idly beside her bed as it consumed her completely. Death was not delicate, not kind, not to her parents.

A better woman would’ve left this home behind as soon as she’d gotten enough funds to free herself from it, but she could not seem to. Somehow living in it felt like the greatest vengeance - or revenge, depending on the day - for her parents. Everything she did was to better this home, to restore it to the beauty she had witnessed in her once-grand childhood. That’s why the envelope was so daunting; she knew that whatever Coriolanus wrote her, even if it was inconsequential, would somehow tie to this dream. He was money and money was everything, the single stepping stone to life.

She took her time when it came to opening it, first finding a gold letter opener in the haunts of her father’s old office. The envelope was not thin but it was easy to open with the knife; she cut smoothly beneath the seal and peeled back the lip, running her fingers over the rose details that sat on the outside. She could see through the back of the folded paper that it was a letter, handwritten.

Everything is about winning, the letter began, but you know that, don’t you? I think you can see that I am not a man of unfulfilled promises now and you’re taking a step in the right direction – as any smart girl would. On the night of the party, I will send a car for you – the weather’s been rather cool for a walk – and it will take you to my apartment. Whether you choose to wear the clothing I sent is up to you, but I will say to you that the designer of the suit will be there, and she is very eager to meet you. Don’t fret too awfully much about keeping up with your appearances; it will be a small gathering, full of like-minded individuals such as yourself. They may ask what you do for a living and you may divulge the truth to them if you wish. I think I am no more ashamed of you than you are of me – what a thrilling dynamic we have.

Until then, Coriolanus Snow.

The letter remained open on the table until the night of the party. It was a reminder that she was a player in a game of her own making, but that she needed to tread carefully, lest it slip through her fingers.

She knew she could not afford to lose this; it meant far too much now that this kind of money had entered the equation.

— Even Coriolanus’ building gave the air of being self-important, large and foreboding.

Before she stepped out of the driver’s car and onto the sidewalk before the opulent apartment, she first took a wary glance upwards. The sky was a flurry of white, but even through the thicket of snow she could see the bright lights of the apartments shining ominously above her.

Her mind had been churning over the possible outcomes of this party all day. She had poured over his letter and dissected it until the individual words meant nothing and everything all at once. What she kept coming back to was the line about her occupation—how it meant very little to him whether she told the guests she was a prostitute or not. If she knew Coriolanus’ type the way she thought she did, she knew that her occupation would be of some worry to his acquaintances. Had he written that to throw her off? To make her embarrass herself the way she had him? If so, he’d have to work harder than that. She wrapped her black coat more tightly around herself and mounted the stone steps. Exhaling a deep sigh, she braced herself for whatever could come of this night.

The doorman greeted her with a curt nod as he opened the door for her. The lobby was an enormous space, full of stone columns and large potted trees. She admired the high ceilings and beautiful hanging chandeliers before another man, dressed smartly in a tuxedo and red bow tie, escorted her in the direction of the stairs. She wanted to request a walk up the large staircase but thought better of it. Now was no time to gawk over the fine housing of one of her clients. Because that’s what Coriolanus was: a client.

The elevator ride up did little to prepare her for what would come. What greeted her first was the warm sound of music and laughter. Not rich, honeyed laughter but real laughter, laughter that belonged to a time she had not been familiar with in far too long. It was feminine, rich, and pleasant. This, more than the intricate design of the apartment itself, excited her.

Before she knew it Coriolanus was standing in front of her. While another tuxedo-ed man took her coat, he walked up to her. “Welcome,” he greeted, his grin proud and wide. His eyes scanned over her and he was evidently pleased. “You wore the outfit.”

He acted as if she had said the correct answer.

Her smile was warm, and performative to a degree. “I’d be a fool not to,” she cooed.

He was pleased with her, showing it in the way he extended an elbow for her to take. She wrapped her hand around his bicep and he walked them through the long corridor, closer to the sounds of chatter. “Is there anything I should know?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing that I can think of,” he answered.

When they walked into the main room, everyone’s eyes turned in their direction. Coriolanus took to the attention, wearing a cordial grin. One of the women sitting on the multitude of cream chairs hopped up, eyes widening in excitement. “Oh Coryo!” she gushed, pushing through the small crowd to get to them.

She was a stunning woman, lithe, tall, her hair as fair as Coriolanus’ and cascading in loose curls down her shoulders. She reached her hand out in greeting. “I’m Tigris. Coriolanus told me wanted me to make an outfit for someone but he didn’t tell me how beautiful the model would be,” she gushed.

Her cheeks tinted, unused to be fawned over with such earnestness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she responded, smiling warmly. “Thank you for the outfit, it’s truly stunning.”

Coriolanus patted the hand she had on his bicep and beamed. He was showing her off like a prize, flaunting her. If she didn’t so much like the company of Tigris, she might ask him what he was getting at. But she did like Tigris, quite a lot even though this was their first meeting. Unlike Coriolanus, she was…kind. Nothing disingenuous, not so far as she could see. There was no air of haughtiness to her, no ulterior motive. She reminded her of her mother, in a way.

“I wanted her to be a surprise, Tigris. I knew you’d think she was lovely,” Coriolanus said softly. Tigris looked at him gratefully, cupping his cheek with a gloved hand affectionately.

“You’re sweet, Coryo,” she said. “Why don’t you go introduce her to the rest of the party, maybe feed her–” she looked down. “Sorry, I don’t mean to talk like you’re not here. There’s food in the kitchen and more drinks on the counter if you’re interested. I’m certain everyone else will be very excited to meet you. It’s not often Coriolanus brings someone to my parties.”

They both watched as Tigris returned into the mix of individuals. All of them were stunning, model good-looking—even the ones with more exotic appearances. Their bright hair colors and lavish makeup only accentuated their beauty. They were, to put it simply, ethereal. Not at all like the people she would expect Coriolanus to consort with.

“She’s my cousin,” he said as if reading her thoughts.

“And what does she think I am to you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “A friend, I suppose.”

“That doesn’t make her curious?”

Coriolanus laughed. “No. Tigris stopped asking me questions long ago and it’s best that way. Now come.” He pointed to another open space across the room. “If I don’t get you something to eat she’ll be angry with me.”

“Is this all you wanted me here for?” she asked once they were secluded from the rest of the party. “To make your cousin happy?”

He handed her a plate and smiled his typical confounding grin. “If it was?” he taunted, tossing a berry in his mouth.

“I’d say I wasn’t an escort,” she responded.

This response made his grin stretch. “Of course you’re not,” he assured.

He followed her down the line of food, watching as she selected bits of fruits, meats, the fanciful little hor devours. Something about Coriolanus made her feel more transparent—like he knew the game she’d been playing and was waiting for her to acknowledge how clever he was for catching on. But of course he knew the game. Wasn’t he the one who sought her out?

“It’s no lie that I’m hungry, Coriolanus,” she finally submitted. Her admission made him hum delightedly around a grape.

“So eat,” he encouraged, taking a step forward. He raised a grape to her lips. When she didn’t take it from his fingers, he smirked. “Not a fan?” he teased, plopping it in his mouth. “Well, no worries. There's a lot of food here. And—“ he lowered his voice, “you can have as much as you like for as long as you like. That’s the nice thing about working with me: you don’t go hungry.”

Her eyes turned into slits. “I’m here, aren’t I?” she snapped.

He nodded, his carefully styled coif of hair bouncing. “You are, but there’s still more for you to decide. When we walk back out there, Tigris’ friends will grow interested even if she doesn’t. They’ve never seen you and you’re objectively good-looking—of course they’re going to want to know where I found you.”

She took a sip of the wine, not understanding where he was headed. This didn’t seem to bother him. He continued with a crooked grin. “When they ask you what you are, you're more than welcome to be honest. The future is what you make it.”

He took his own sip, his eyes full of meaning. She hated him. He was thrilled at her undoing, thrilled at the fact that he could control her in even the subtlest ways.

“And if I say I’m a whore?” she challenged.

He wetted his lips, setting the glass on the counter behind him. “Then a whore you shall be.”

“And if I tell them I’m your whore?”

He regarded her with an uneasy calm. She shifted uncomfortably beneath his unblinking gaze.

“Then my whore you’ll be,” he answered.

The finality of it sent her into a reflective quiet.

—

As Coriolanus predicted, Tigris’ friends were inquisitive.

After he’d let her eat in quiet, he’d guided her back out to the party where everyone was positioned in a circle. The room was made that way, adapting the Snowflake design of the house itself, each of the chairs orbiting one lone glass table in the middle. It was clever, helping facilitate conversation, but intimidating for whoever had the floor.

“Coriolanus, what does your little dove do? You’ve both spoken so little tonight and I think it’s safe to say we’re all dying to know,” one of them, who she thought was named Otho, said.

Tigris smiled ruefully. “I’m sure she speaks for herself, Otho.”

She smiled, having remembered the name correctly. It wasn’t until a second later that she realized they’d all turned their attention to her expectantly—including Coriolanus. They shared a glance before she eased back in the chair. He was nervous, perhaps just as much as she was.

“I don’t do much,” she evaded, bringing the glass of wine up to her lips.

Otho pressed on. “Oh, and how does one as young as yourself get on with doing nothing? Don’t tell me you’ve got one of those adoring Capital husbands. I mean, you’re pretty enough, but it’s just terribly unfair. I hate meeting them.”

It was a welcome lie. She didn’t look at Coriolanus as she eased her way into it. “I’m sorry to say I do,” she responded. They all leaned forward in their chairs, interested, so she continued. “He’s off in District 2 at the moment. I got one of the patriotic ones; he signed up to be a Peacekeeper not too shortly after our wedding.”

“Was he poor?” one inquired. Tigris poked them with her finger, shaking her head in disappointment.

“It’s quite alright, I don’t mind saying he wasn’t. He thought it was the right thing to do, being fit and young as he was—as he is.”

“Coriolanus was a Peacekeeper,” another one said. She didn’t remember their name either. “Is that how you met him?”

Coriolanus took hold of the conversation. “No. We go back a little farther than that,” he answered. Everyone’s eyes shifted to him.

“Do you?” Tigris asked. She seemed hurt by the idea of not knowing this. It struck her that Coriolanus and Tigris were rather close, like siblings, friends, maybe.

“As children we studied together.” Coriolanus shrugged his shoulders flippantly. Tigris nodded, but looked away.

“That’s true,” she added. She was hitting her stride. It was easy to perform, to be others, almost simpler than to be oneself most days. Coriolanus underestimated how much practice she’d had at that. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he’d known all along. It was hard to tell with him. “When Coriolanus and I were children I had such a massive crush on him. He was beautiful.”

She looked over at him. He wore a tight grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Don’t you remember how I used to fawn over you?” Her fingers grazed his wrist, and she laughed. He did too. To an outsider, they made quite the jovial pair.

“I can’t say I do, but I’m flattered.” He took another sip of his drink, looking back out to their audience.

“Well, never mind that you don’t remember. I do.” She looked back at them, too. Even Tigris, who seemed wounded by what she didn’t know, stared longingly for more as she plunged into the story. She did remember Coriolanus as a little boy. It was easy enough to supply this information.

“Coriolanus was one of the more considerate boys in our grade. At that time boys made up terrible sing-songy rhymes about how girls were ugly and stinky or what have you, but not Coriolanus. Not that I heard at least.”

Everyone laughed and she looked wistfully at him. He did not look back. Instead, his eyes were captivated by the liquid in his cup. She didn’t let it bother her or take away from her story. “I remember on my sixth birthday I invited him and insisted he sit beside me. He got me a doll. I remember it very clearly. It looked a little bit like me and I thought it was very thoughtful.”

Tigris smiled softly. “That sounds like my Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus rose from his seat. He held up his glass, now empty. “I’m going for a refill,” he informed.

Everyone looked to Tigris as if searching for answers. She guided them towards another topic, smiling brightly as if unbothered. But it was in her eyes, the hurt, the confusion. After a little everyone seemed to forget the absence of him, though. Everyone almost seemed to blossom during it.

She was beginning to suspect that perhaps she’d bit off more than she could chew as she watched them all chattering away like that. Who was this man, she wondered, And why did he hold this much power even over people he seemed to love?

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #president snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #tigris snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfic

[xxstraykidsaikoxx]

ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴄᴀᴛ & ᴅᴏɢ || sᴇᴜɴɢᴍɪɴ (sᴛʀᴀʏ ᴋɪᴅs) x ɴɪɴᴛʜ ғ!ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ

Aiko being a cat with the mind of a puppy, and Seungmin being a puppy with the mind of a cat, these two make for an interesting pair, especially when partnered up for a mission. Will these two make it to the end without maiming eachother?

ෆ contents - mild arguing, happy ending, light swearing

ෆ word count - 436

ෆ note - seungmin might be slightly out of character 😅

"And the next pairing will be.. Aiko and Seungmin!" As soon as those words were spoken Seungmin already felt a headache starting to form. It wasn't that he didn't like Aiko, she was just.. a little too much. The younger idol walked up to stand besides him and smiled, because despite what her older member was thinking, she loved being around Seungmin. He was funny, kind, and just so fun to mess with. For this particular SKZ CODE episode, the group had been split pairs, safe for Jeongin, Han and Minho who had to be in a group of three. They were blindfolded and locked in a small escape room styled place and were told to find the key that unlocks the door to the way out. Simple correct? Not when you're partnered with someone who dropped out of middle school.

Immediately Aiko had started her usual dramatics, something she picked up from her boyfriend presumably. Aiko lightly squealed from both excitement and slight nervousness of being blindfolded, so when it was removed, she accidentally backed into Seungmin, nearly knocking them both over. "Sorry, oppa, I got scared!" Ai tried to lighten the mokd, but clearly her older brother didn't appreciate the joke, "Whatever, let's get this over with." 5 minuets went by until Seungmin had had it with this girl, "Dammit Aiko! I already said what the clue meant and you still haven't gotten it!", Aiko never one to back down from a fight, retaliated, "Well I'm sorry if I need a more detailed explanation!" "Guess that's why you're the leader of Paboracha!" "You make it sound like an insult!" The puppy and cat duo bared their claws at eachother with their words.

The coughing of the staff reminded the two that they were in fact, being recorded live. Taking a breath, they composed themselves. "Okay, okay, I'm going to explain this one. more. time." Seungmin said slowly. After explaining everything again to Aiko, more in depth this time, they finally were able to escape the room. After the filming was over and done with, Aiko hugged Seungmin by the waist, forcefully by the way, and apologized for arguing with him. Not able to say no to the youngest member, he hugged her back, "Don't worry, Pabo, I'm sorry too.. I guess.." In all reality he did feel bad, but he'd never admit it out loud. "Don't call me dumb, dummy." Aiko huffed, which resulted in her getting pushed to the side. As the puppy walked away from the kitten, he hid a small smile, cursing the soft spot he had for someone so ditzy.

©straykidsaiko

Always keep in mind that nothing in this series and in my posts are real! So anything that may seem 'out of character' should be considered as part of a fake universe! <3

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

#fake kpop oc #female addition #kpop added member #skz addition #skz female addition #skz female member #stray kids 9th member #stray kids added member #stray kids scenarios #fake kpop idol

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

i didn't sign up for this!

IKE EVELAND - DAY 3

“Hey, welcome in!” Ike called out as he heard the bells above the cafe door ring. You walked in, shivering with a beige scarf wrapped around your neck, your puffy white jacket covered with snow as you shrugged it off before getting inside. It was nice, being in a warm and cozy small local cafe. You knew almost everyone who worked there, from how frequently you go there, even during rainstorms. You saw your favourite employee (though you always swear you don’t have favourites). Ike always had a somewhat special place in your heart; he was a novelist with a part time job at the cafe, and you were an illustrator. His books were always fun to read, as he showed you a few drafts, but he’s never published one.

“Ike, hey! Could I get-“ You started but Ike already interrupted you.

“The usual? Your iced coffee with three shots of espresso, two pumps of vanilla, chocolate syrup with caramel drizzle and whipped cream? [a/n: stop ok idk any drinks]” He recited, as you had always requested before. It was an extremely random combination, but you always seemed to love it.

“You remembered?- Oh, well, obviously, I always order it,” You said, chuckling, “Yeah, that’s what I’ll get.” He laughed a bit, then nodded. He made the coffee and gave it to you, as you handed him money.

“Have you finished another illustration, (Name)?” Ike asked curiously, leaning on the counter towards you.

“I don’t have anyone who commissioned me yet.” You told Ike, sipping the hot coffee with a sigh of content.

“Maybe you could illustrate the cover for… my book?” He asked hesitantly, fiddling with the golden chain on his glasses. You looked at him, dumbfounded. Ike finally published a book?

“You… got a book published?” You asked him, your excitement climbing. You’ve always wanted him to finally have a book on the shelves, mainly because his writing style was so unique and his books had always piqued your interest.

“It just got through editing. I still need to illustrate a cover for it, then I can publish it.” Ike said in a meek tone, clearing his throat.

“Congratulations!! I would love to illustrate for you! Okay, okay, so!-“ You started off at the mouth with excitement before Ike inevitably stopped you with laughter.

“Okay, okay, calm down (name)!” He laughed, pushing up his glasses, “First of all, are you free anytime this weekend? Maybe we could meet up, y’know, discuss a few things? Or… how does it work for you?” He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, a shy smile creeping up his flushed cheeks; he was very flustered about your excitement towards something that seemed so mundane for him.

“Yep, yep, I could clear Saturday if that’s cool with you!-“

“Woah, woah, if you have something important for Saturday, we can meet some other time, I don’t wanna like- Take up so much of your time.” Ike said sheepishly, leaning forward as you suggested having to clear a day just for him.

“Huh? Oh, no, don’t worry! It’s nothing important. Just a date that I don’t really want to go to.” You waved it off, chuckling quietly.

“A… date, huh?” Maybe I could take her out on a date… Ike thought as he got embarrassed at the thought. He’s been pining for you for a while, ever since he started to become your friend, “Uh, sure then… If Saturday’s alright, I can do that.”

That Saturday, he ended up meeting with her on Saturday at the cafe again, but just when he wasn’t on shift.

“So what’s your plan for the cover?” You asked, taking your drawing tablet out as he sat beside you after ordering two coffees.

“Uhm… I made a sketch already of what I wanted, I was just thinking that you could just render it?” He asked, taking out a page with a very rough but still talented drawing of his desired cover.

“Sure! It’s a very nice drawing, by the way.” You giggled when he blushed bashfully, shaking his head at your comment while you scanned his drawing to keep most of his originality in the cover while still fixing a few rough patches and such.

“So, uhm… Why did you not want to go on that date?” Ike asked awkwardly as you started to render his sketch on your drawing iPad, since he insisted you stay for lunch.

“Oh, I didn’t really like the person. Honestly just accepted the date to get over talking with them.” You shrugged, looking up for a moment at Ike while you took a sip of coffee, “Why do you ask?”

“Ah, nothing, just curious… Say, if I asked you on a date, would you accept?” Ike asked meekly, turning away from your face.

“Hm, well, sure.” You shrugged, the words not connecting in your mind while you drew, mainly focused on his art. Your response made him become bright red and very flustered.

“Oh- Ah, then… Would… you go on a date with me?” He stumbled through the words, looking down into his cup as he asked, expecting rejection.

“Huh? Oh, uh… Sure.” You replied, looking at him with a surprised expression though you sort of expected it at this point. You’d never tell him how obvious he was though.

#nijisanji x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #nijisanji en

[sawrinwrites]

March Content Plans (Long Update)

As it is now the 25th here in frosty England, it has officially been 2 months since I published my first piece of fan fiction. In that time, I've released:

A one-shot containing my first ever attempt at both monster smut and an explicit F/F sex scene (which is currently my most popular work????)

A low angst (I know, I can't believe it either) romantic one-shot from the POV of a golden retriever

4 chapters of an emotionally intense story that is so far from my usual writing style I have to re-read earlier chapters to remind myself how to write it (a deliberate stylistic choice but boy, am I paying for it)

3 chapters of what was meant to be a fun side project and is quickly turning into something deep and dark and wonderful in its own right

All in all, that's 4 bodies of work spanning 57.7k words released over a period of 9 weeks (not including the 15-20k which got rewritten / replaced / outright cut). Which is, for me, insane. It's also a pace that I won't be able to maintain going forward, so for the sake of setting expectations (my own, more than anyone else's), here's the current plan for March:

The Monsters At My Side And In My Shadow Ch 1-3 update Given that this has gone from "werewolf smut hiding in a multi-chapter fic" to "multi-fic exploration of abuse with a healthy dollop of smut", I want to revise what's already been released to better align with what I have going forward. There won't be any plot / event changes, scenes that get altered will be getting either an expansion or a rewrite, depending on the work needed (which will include adding more smut-adjacent content because it's currently lacking and I want it to be better).

Untitled - An Ember POV Story to Celebrate 1yr Since The Bees Kissed (March 25th) @reeves3 put the idea in my head and now I have a collection of outlines covering various points in Yang and Blake's relationship all told from the perspective of the Best Girl. They won't come out in chronological order as I'm looking to line them up with various events, but the current plan is that March 25th will cover the introduction of a new member into the Xiao Long-Belladonna pack.

Additionally, I'd like to release the following chapters but I am forcing myself to accept that these will likely get bumped to April:

The Monsters At My Side And In My Shadow Ch 4

Shattered Divinity Ch 5

There's a few reasons for the (temporary) slowdown in content:

I am supposed to draft 1 - 3 OC novels this year (the mistake of mixing alcohol with an empty resolutions boards and the word "bet") and I need to dedicate more time than I have done to those projects to have any hope of doing that.

Rather than wait for the fan fic writer's curse to hit, I've gone and done it to myself by buying my first house. The offer got accepted yesterday, so now I have to deal with the joys of legal and financial paperwork. And start prepping for a move. And every other stressful time consuming thing that comes from this period. Don't get me wrong, I am fucking ecstatic, not least because it means me having an actual bedroom for the first time in almost 4 years, but the next steps are going to take a chunk out of my usual writing time.

@kaelidascope is about to drop a veritable feast of content. Look, I'm not subtle about how much I enjoy her work. She's my favourite fan fic writer. She's probably one of my favourite writers period on account of the emotional damage and veritable joy Mightnight Menagerie has brought me. And I'm not just saying this because she's been exceptionally complimentary of my own work (which, by the way, I am still freaking out over). She is one of the main reasons I started writing fan fiction. If it wasn't for the original Beestfic, I'd never have written The Hunt. Which means I'd never have had the concept ideas that initially led to starting The Monsters At My Side And In My Shadow, and without that fic, I wouldn't have had the 3 experimental scenes between Yang and her grimm which ended up inspiring the idea to write Best Laid Plans from Ember's POV. So I will be setting aside some time (translation: every waking moment I have during release weekend) to thoroughly immerse myself in the relaunch. Also there's two Menagerie chapters due and the previews are already threatening my analytics brain and unfortunately it takes time to launch that kind of assault on AO3's comment section.

So yeah. A few things going on in March. I'm gonna try and do this as a rolling monthly thing going forward in lieu of trying to have a timed release schedule. Hopefully the April one will be a bit lot shorter.

#content update #fuck this is long #march is gonna be a MONTH for me yall

[jtl07]

jtl07 fics, spring 2024

We interrupt the posting about various water animals with my first fic recap of 2024!

An admission: I’m still in a rollercoaster of a headspace (also still open to song recs so I can make noises on the guitar btw) - I was, gently, reminded that it’s not even been a year since life upended itself and there’s been a lot that's happened in the past couple months, even more in the past couple weeks, so. We’ll take it one step - one water animal, one guitar riff, one fic recap - at a time.

General stats

Total on this pseud: 5

Fics posted (in chronological order):

Cat’s Cradle security checkpoint logs - Just a snapshot in the form of the contents of folks' bags

tell me all the things you believe - or: one year later

even though you're not mine - or: Ava comes back, but not hers; or or: Princington's artwork strikes again

i see you clearly now (i hold you dearly now) - or: on touch and waiting and wanting; or or: Ava comes back invisible

nineteen, again - or: Ava at thirty-eight

(Per usual, more numbers and thoughts under the cut)

More numbers

(As of last night; some of the numbers seem to have changed but only slightly)

Total words: 26,369

Shortest fic: 813 - Cat’s Cradle security checkpoint logs

Longest fic: 19,010 - i see you clearly now (i hold you dearly now)

Average/Median word count: 5,274 / 1,676

Most hits: 2,128 - i see you clearly now (i hold you dearly now)

Least hits: 555 - Cat’s Cradle security checkpoint logs

Average/Median percent of *interactions to hits: 21.3% / 22.0%

Highest percent of interactions to hits: 23.1% - nineteen, again

Least percent of interactions to hits: 18.7% - i see you clearly now (i hold you dearly now)

*where “interaction” = kudos, comment threads, bookmarks

General thoughts

None of the regular stats (all the word count stuff) were a surprise to me, so I added some new stats looking at interactions and hits. Interaction totals seem to correspond with hit counts (hence why I didn't note those above) but what was interesting was the percentages. Yeah, it's a difference of only a couple percentage points but the nerd in me is intrigued. As in: I wonder if the length and premise of "i see you clearly" was both draw (hits) and deterrent (interaction)? Also several comments mentioned liking the setting age-wise of "nineteen, again" so that plus the fact that there were a lot of familiar faces was perhaps folks knowing what they were getting into? idk, really can't draw any conclusions - it can also just be simple reader behavior.

Actually, speaking of which, another interesting thing I observed: I did an initial pull using the bookmarklet on the 25th, then updated the numbers last night. The numbers that changed the most were hits and, surprisingly, bookmarks (kudos were next, and comments hardly changed). I hadn't realized that bookmarks were utilized so much.

Fic that surprised you:

Technically "i see you clearly now" fits this prompt - but then again, it fits every prompt in this recap lol - but the fic I want to talk about here is "even though you're not mine. I had fully expected not to post anything for February (context: I have a soft personal goal to complete something every month) but then @princington had to go and be amazing lol. I distinctly remember seeing their art (linked above) and immediately being beset by two different ideas. I then went for a walk and during said walk, lines starting coming for the shorter idea. Near the end of the walk, the ending for the fic came to me as well, and by that time I was speedwalking to get back home and write it all down! It had been a while since I'd felt an idea take hold of me that quickly and completely - it's such a rush and was fun to write. That one definitely would not have happened without Prince's fantastic work <3

Fic that you're proud of:

Okay now I'll talk about "i see you clearly now" lol - everything about it was terrifying, from the length, the content, the style. It really was unexpected because the opening came fully fleshed out early on, which usually points to a quick little fic. But I remember hitting 3k and looking over what I had so far, and thinking very clearly: ohshit, this is going to be long. But I think what won out over the fear was this curiosity - I wanted to see where this fic was going to lead me. There was something in it that kept drawing me back, even though I didn't know at all where the story was going, something in me felt surprisingly, idk safe exploring what was, for me, uncharted territory.

Fun fact #1: I think it was around the 5k~6k mark - before I'd gotten anywhere near the ending, mind - I'd had this thought (which I'd fully written down in my notes lol) of having a fun spicy one-shot as a follow up. And then shortly thereafter, I realized how crucial physical intimacy was to the story and how it there wouldn't be a follow up - it had to be integrated into the fic. A lot of internal screaming ensued lol

Fun fact #2: I surprisingly didn't do a lot in terms of editing. The biggest was a rewrite of the phone conversation between Beatrice and Mother Superion. I remember feeling a bit iffy about it and @gohandinhand (best beta ever seriously!) gently highlighted it as well. I guess it was one of those scenes where I needed to know what the story was before I could really write that scene in a way that fit everything else. It was interesting because I felt that's how it was writing the fic as a whole - it wasn't very linear, it was more like I'd write one scene near the beginning, which gave some inspiration for a scene near the ending, which then brought me to a scene near the middle. It felt quite intricate, seeing how adjusting one area affected another, affected the whole.

Fun fact #3: Before I wrote the reunion, I sat down and studied a bunch of fics because I'm a nerd lol - there's that one post, which I of course can't find now, about how there's nothing more embarrassing than writing smut that doesn't turn anyone on, which I felt very keenly lol - I was like, jt, if you're going to do this, you better damn do this well. So I went through some other fics and studied structure, word choice, pacing - it was quite enlightening actually, and something I think I'll do more of this year. (Studying, I mean. Not the - well, I shouldn't promise anything about what I will or will not write lol)

Fic that was the hardest to write:

Much as "i see you clearly now" terrified me, it actually wasn't hard to write. Similar to Beatrice's arc in the story itself, I as the writer had to just be patient and allow it take form in the time it took. I mean, even that rewrite that I mentioned came on fairly easily.

Now that I think about it, I do remember "tell me all the things you believe" being difficult to write. Yeah, quite a number of afternoons sitting at a nearby Starbucks pulling at my hair lol The main prompt for that was simply to mark the occasion (that being my own 1 year of writing Warrior Nun/Avatrice). I think what I'm learning is that things are much easier when an idea is couched firmly in a character or an emotion. (For example, I mentioned a while ago having a hard time with i walked with you once, which could have also been due to not having formed a good grasp of JC's character)

Oh I also had not a difficulty writing, but a difficulty posting Cat’s Cradle security checkpoint logs - I'd thought it was too simple yknow? But ultimately I thought hey, this is all just for fun, not everything needs to be complex and worldchanging so why the heck not.

What's next?

Gosh that's a question I've been carefully avoiding what with being in the midst of so much transition. I've been doing a lot of resting and found myself being drawn to studying structure again - kishoutenketsu in particular (I recently found some studies I'd done a couple years ago, I might clean those up and post them here), and how to layer complexity onto that. Which is timely because there's a couple ideas that came to me late last year that I immediately knew were going to be complex and kinda put them on the shelf because I didn't think I was ready to write them. Writing "i see you clearly now" has made me question that thought so hopefully the studying will help bring up my confidence to at least try.

In any case, there are still plenty of ideas (Beatrice voice: "there's always more") it's just a matter of figuring out which ones feel right to write. I'll likely continue to be a little quiet here - save for the posts of the water animals lol - but I'll be around.

Anyway, huh, apparently I had much more to say than I thought I would for this recap. If you made it this far, wow, a virtual cookie for you! Hope the end of March brings some rest and comfort <3

#jt writes fic #words about my words #jt's fic recap

[swirlysmile]

Iceman spending an evening out with his s/o after a long week? :3 thank you!

you’re welcome, anon! hope this is what you had in mind. swear i’ll write something longer one of these days 🙏

my boy rio ronny makes a small appearance, so proud of him.

word count: 873

warnings: none

Night On The Town

Weeks in the Navy were always long. He didn’t get to spend much time with you. Iceman was either on base or asleep, regaining strength for the next day of perilous training. Luckily, he had the weekends open to spend time with you.

“Baby,” He’d say, “I’ve spent all week with my friends. I want to spend some time with you,” and sure, you could argue that training isn’t quality time with friends, but he was just so damn convincing when he smiled like that. 

So, when he got home he changed clothes, reassuring you that he took a shower on base. Not that it was hard to tell with his floppy, and wet, blond hair. 

Tom throws on his aviators, walking out of the bathroom with dry hair. It’s styled perfectly, as usual.

“Ready to spend a night out on the town?” He asks, throwing a piece of gum into his mouth. 

You respond by pecking him, and he takes your hand to lead you to the car.

He starts with a quaint little restaurant, a favorite for date nights. The first time he had brought you there, he claimed it had the best Italian-American food in town. It didn’t disappoint.

“This is your idea of a night on the town?” 

“Hey,” he says, hands up in defense. “I just had a tiring day at work.” 

You say nothing more, glancing down at your menu. Of course you know what you’re going to order. 

“I promise I have more planned.”

“I’m content with this if you’re too exhausted,” you say. Tom, being the cocky man he is, takes this as a challenge. 

You order your food and politely thank the waiter who brought it to you. Tom talks about his day, and it’s nice. You haven’t really gone on a date like this in so long- neither of your schedules permitting it. 

The Navy works him hard, and your job as a receptionist is demanding too. Maybe slightly less, but still tiring for the average citizen.  

“How was it?” 

“Great, as always.” 

Ice smiles, feeling accomplished.

He pays, adding in a generous tip before you leave. The air outside is chilly, enough for a coat, but not quite frosty. The leaves are turning yellow, as they always do in fall, swaying with the soft breeze. It’s gorgeous.  

“I’m so lucky to have you.” He says, tightening his grasp on your hand. You’re walking down the street to window shop a little. The yellow street lights are a little dim, and not preferable, yet somehow, he still looks good. 

You pass every shop imaginable. There’s the small dessert shop that’s proudly displaying its many pastries, and you’d be lying if you said they didn’t look delicious. The “fancy clothing” shop proudly bearing mannequins wearing only the finest of silks, and then there’s a thrift store housing all-too-happy minimum wage employees.

The corner store, however, is a nice jeweler. There’s a gorgeous necklace on display, the jewels shimmering in the fluorescent shop lighting. You do a double take, and Ice immediately notices your interest. 

“It’s a good looking necklace,” 

“It’s an expensive looking necklace.” You laugh, leading him away. 

Of course you spend more time browsing the selection of shops down the long street. You pop into the pastry shop, and even the fancy clothes shop, albeit to make fun of the clothing. 

You smile seeing the vendor on the other side of the road, booth filled to the brim with sunglasses.

“You’re such a dork,” Ice says lovingly, when you imitate him trying on said sunglasses. You end up buying them, and Ice laughs at you.

You even end up seeing Slider, Tom’s RIO, with his wife doing the same thing. Spending time together on the weekends.

“Told you my friends and I spend enough time together, look at him avoiding me.” 

“Ouch, Slider is your only friend?” you tease. “Pretty much.” Ice adds, no hesitation. 

He’s never been one to make friends, preferring to stick to his already set up clique. 

Ice walks you back up the street to your car.

“Bar sound good?” He asks, and you nod. A few stronger drinks never hurt, but the wine at dinner was nice. 

Tom is prepared to be designated driver, just wanting to spend time with you. You agree with little hesitation, and he pays for some drinks. 

It’s nice, getting to spend this quality time with your boyfriend. Just getting to be with him doing things you enjoy, and it doesn’t happen much. He savors the time he spends with you.

After a few drinks, you’re much looser than you had expected to be. You’re sure that if this had been Vegas, and not Virginia, Elvis would have officiated the wedding by now. 

Ice practically pulls you away from the bar and out the door. He’s hoping you won’t remember his detour, and lucky for him by the time you get there, you’re out cold, thanks to the alcohol. 

He wouldn’t say that was his plan, but it was. 

You wake up a little confused, but in your bed with a note next to you, and that damned necklace, and your heart melts.

Thought you might like this.

See you later,

Tom

#tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #iceman #tom ‘iceman’ kazansky #top gun fic #top gun 1989 #top gun #top gun 1989 fic #iceman x reader #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x reader #slider #ron slider kerner #ron kerner #tom ‘iceman’ kazansky x reader #italian food is so good

[little-pup-pip]

Haii! This isn't really a request but i was wondering how you made the moodboards so lined up? I was also wondering if you had any tips? I really want to start making some ^^ /gen /nm /genq

This is a really good question!! And because I wanted to answer it thoroughly, this answer got really really long lol so the it's under the cut!

The short answer is that I crop all of my pictures manually! I usually do that in the gallery on my phone, but it can also be done here on Tumblr. The aspect ratio you're looking for is 1:1, which makes a perfect square!! If you scroll through the pictures on (most of) my moodboards, you'll see that they line up uniformly as squares, which lets me make perfect 3:3 grids! Also, I don't usually use gifs, but those need to be cropped by a third-party app or website most of the time if you plan on using those.

As for general tips, I gave some advice here! I don't have much advice on how to make moodboards because I think everyone has a unique style that they bring to their content. I'll tell you a few things that I do for my stuff, though!

I usually stick to about three main colors per moodboard, unless it's supposed to be colorful specifically!

I have a few go-to items that I put in my moodboards: blankets, stuffies, pacifiers, sweaters, books, and sometimes also lights!!

I add as many tags as I can think of to my stuff! That's how people discover new content!!

The last thing I can think of is I always try to make the theme of moodboard clear. Like, I ask myself 'if there was no title or request attached to it, would people still be able to guess what it's supposed to be?' This is easiest with characters because you can just put their face in there! Idk thinking about that helps me sometimes with sticking to a theme!!

That's all I got. I hope this helped at all!! If you have anymore questions feel free to ask! If that's all, I hope you have fun making stuff!

#this got so long #i'm sorry about that #i hope it at least helps you a little!! #I'm excited to see what you create! #Pip's barks #i think I'm going to make a commonly asked questions post #maybe that will help some people out #anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk #this was a fun question to answer!! #ps i hope this is what you meant by lined up #if not let me know and I'll try to help! #this wasn't edited there's probably grammatical errors

[pixelatedraindrops]

Happy New Year Everyone💜

(Rambling below)

Tbh: This year has been one word for me. Awful. Too much happened and I’d rather not talk too much about it... x-x

My first half of the year was just dreadful. But the second half of it (around July/August) was a lot better. And I have RainCode to thank for that. After losing a close friend, I was in a pretty depressive funk for quite some time. And what I usually do in these times is escape into my current passions and interests and go wild on it.

And boy did I ever. I had just finished RainCode and was officially obsessed. And I wanted to contribute to it. So at first I made some sprite edits, and a Pokémon crossover. Then as I do for every fandom I have a fixation on, I decided to write my very first sickfic of it. And it received so well that felt a bit more secure in indulging in my hidden guilty pleasure some more.

I made more sprite edits involving Yuma and the more I indulged the more obsessive I became. Soon I was making analysis' on his character and making all sorts of whump headcanons for him. Then I realized I became like most sick whump users on tumblr, and I finally had a fandom and whumpee I could call my own... and the feeling I felt was indescribable. I was so happy. Blissful. (Though it did kinda rot my brain from the inside out. But in a good way? If it makes you happy it's healthy....right? XD)

After some time I interacted a little bit with more of the RC community and honestly?? Its such a fresh new and fun community. And there's a lot more adults in it. My last fixation (demon slayer) had too many minors in it so I felt like I didn't belong or have any right to be in the community at all. But with this one?? I feel right at home. I eventually became known here for making sick related content of the series, even dubbing myself the CEO of a tag I made up myself. Whumpcode.

RainCode even inspired me to start drawing again. Something I sadly gave up on for years. And Its helped me find a style for myself and draw things that make me happy c: (aka sick/fever whump lol)

I found a few very nice people to talk to. (mostly because I'm shy and don't talk too much w others online) And I'm surprised my work even inspired some of the community to make some sick art/fics of their own for raincode. It made me feel such indescribable pride. In a sense I am like the other whump users on tumbr, but at the same time I'm not. (mainly because its not a kink to me) I'm more a member of the raincode community than the whump community. And I'm perfectly fine with that.

I first joined tumblr back in 2014 and after some time, took a 5 year hiatus from it. But upon coming back, I'm so happy to have finally found a fandom I truly feel like I'm a part of. And thank you to everyone that supports and enjoys my work. It makes me so happy that there are those that agree with me and don't see me as a freak despite my odd fixation. But focusing on this has made the second half of my year better. So much better...

So thank you, both RainCode and RainCode tumblr. For making me feel like a part of something. And for making my year end on a positive note c:

have a tiny yuma <3

(part of my big collab wip :3 Coming soon! )

#rain code #pixel txt. #hoping 2024 is better... #I hope you all have a great new years eve! <3 #and I hope I can interact w more of you next year! #if I’m still into raincode… xD #my fixations tend to last a while so I think it’ll be fine xD #as for this pic don’t be fooled #he’s gonna be really sick later... 😈

[alabasterpickles]

hi i sent an ask about persephone and hades a lil while ago!! heres some questions i had :3

1. how did they officially meet?

2. what were pain and panics first impressions of persephone?

3. persephone looks older then some of the other gods (like hera and aphrodite) is she older then them? i really like that you gave her some wrinkles :]

4. any issues that come up in p/h's relationship? like goals, little pet peeves, etc

5. how angry has persephone seen hades get? and vice versa, how angry has hades seen persephone get?

- 🖋️

Hey!! Glad to have you back!!

1. I have this idea that their meeting is almost entirely by chance, in the series he loathes spring and tries to sabotage it and I really want to channel that energy into my funny little AU (which actually takes place post film) 😂 It’s during Spring that he officially runs into he, she’s just doing her Cthonic goddess thing and Hades is up top causing problems as per usual, when he sees her manifesting apricots on a tree, aaand obviously an unattended goddess is fair game! Sidenote but I like to think Eros is the one that gives him the low-down on who she is, kind of encourages him to make a move, mostly because it’s a welcome distraction and keeps him out of his hair.

2. They were extremely weary of her at first, the assumption was that anybody Hades brought home wasn’t going to be nice to them. Once they realize that’s not the case she pretty much becomes their favorite person.

3. Thank you!! I have gotten this question a lot! I like to think of Hades being somewhere in his early to mid-forties, and it just felt right to put Persephone somewhere in her thirties (leaning toward 33-34). I imagine her being quite stressed and possibly overworked most of the time, which has imbued in her a kind of maturity that makes her age difficult to peg on face value. Since I’m working with Disney logic rather than historical accuracy, I figured that was an appropriate age! I wanted her to be young enough that she found Hades’ idiosyncrasies endearing rather than immature, but still old enough that she wouldn’t be intimidated or put off by his outbursts. I don’t envision her being older than either of them, no, actually the opposite! But her job is much more “hands on” which I think makes her appear a little more weathered, if that makes sense?

4. Oh this is a fun one!! *rubs hands together evily* So naturally there’s issues because they are so different from one another! On one hand, I imagine Hades’ impulsive and impatient nature (along with the way he tends to take his frustration out on his poor minions) is a point of contention between the two of them. My Persephone’s personality is very dry, deliberate, even tempered and easy-going. She’s not easily irked, but I imagine when she is pushed into a corner her temper can be pretty ferocious. My mom always likes to say that spring “comes in like a Lion and goes out like a lamb” 😂 which is a very fitting description of this Persy! She doesn’t necessarily agree with Hades’ initial style of management, which obviously softens up over time as their relationship progresses. When it comes to goals! Persephone loves her solitude and independence, she’s a free spirit and the idea of being tied down bothers her. She doesn’t prefer the company of the Olympians and she finds their social politics/drama incredibly draining so I think the one major issue she would go into that relationship having is this fear of losing her autonomy and being trapped in an exhausting relationship. She waffles a little in the beginning, not quite committing to her feelings for him because she likes not having to be beholden to anyone. Hades’ goals I imagine change once he prioritizes her company. I think he’d be willing to give up his desire to overthrow Olympus to keep her around, so I definitely don’t think there’s much holding him back from being with her. After his massive blunder in the film, he has nothing to lose and everything to gain. Although I see them changing perspectives on eachother’s stations and therefore developing a deep respect for one another, I do think Persephone’s holistic lifestyle would get on Hades’ nerves in the beginning, and vice versa. They manage to find a balance that works for both of them. I also think Persephone would initially find him a little dishonest and pushy which would drive her crazy, as well as the way he picks on Pain and Panic. He doesn’t have an off-button either which she’d have to get used to. In the end though, they’re both the black sheep of the Pantheon and they find comfort, solace and understanding in one another. ❤️

5. Hades’ fuse is so short it’s practically nonexistent, so I imagine Persephone has seen him get angry a lot, but in my head I like to believe the angriest she’s every seen him was when he was coming to her defense against her mom (which is a sort of long story I’ll save for another time!). I think it’s the first time she feels it’s genuine, not simply an overreaction or irritation, but like actualrage. For Persephone, since her buttons are so hard to push, he’s probably only seen her truly angry a couple of times. I envision her being seriously unreasonable when she gets to that point though, and it takes her a while to cool off. I don’t have a specific event in mind for this (yet!) but I think one of the times she’s been absolutely livid is when he first draws up the agreement with Demeter to keep her for half the year in the Underworld. She hates the idea of feeling like someone has more control over her life than she does!

I hope that answers your questions!

#asks #anonymous #hades #Persephone #Disney’s Hercules #lore #fan oc