🍒why so sexy if so dumb?🍒

The thought flashed in her mind, the two of them out somewhere, both underestimated to the detriment of whomever made such a foolish mistake. It half made her smirk. She was certain he was more charming than her, likely less violent, but it didn’t bother her. Ella wasn’t the best at schmoozing people – leaving the lightness, flirting, and such things to her twin. Their father wanted Ella to get better at that, rubbing elbows at parties, but she truly hated those things. She’d rather deal with a gun aimed at her than a fancy party where she had to play nice. Glancing over at Huddy, she laughed, shaking her head, “Team bonding?” she said the words playfully. “You haven’t felt my hands... yet,” she quirked a brow, hoping she’d understood him correctly. Her English was better than she gave herself credit for, even if she felt lost every now and then.

“I’m sure I’ll feel your hands at some point,” Huddy answered, a small, knowing smirk tugging at his lips as he stepped closer, his tone light but laced with playful confidence, and when he reached her side, he didn’t hesitate to guide her through it, his hands settling over hers as they worked the whisk together in the bowl; his grip was steady, controlled, the motion smooth as he helped her find a rhythm, the soft clink of metal against ceramic filling the space between them while he leaned in just enough to see what she was doing, his presence warm and close without overwhelming her, “see, like that,” he murmured, a quiet chuckle slipping out when she followed along, the mixture slowly evening out under their combined effort, “you weren’t lying,” he added with a grin, amused by how quickly she picked it up with a little guidance, because for him, this had always been second nature, something drilled into him from a young age, long before it ever felt optional; his father had made sure of that, teaching him how to cook, how to clean, how to take care of things properly, and now those habits showed in the ease of his movements, in the way he instinctively kept things tidy as he went, and when she moved to clean herself up, he watched with a shake of his head, amused, “no more help,” he said, his grin widening as he pointed toward the counter, “just sit there and look pretty.”

It was true, there were times Effie felt the weight of the responsibility, but she always tried to shove that to the back of her mind. Without her, she knew the kids would all be taken by DCFS and probably separated. She couldn’t have that happen. They all only had each other in this world, knowing well they couldn’t rely on their parents. The brunette, along with the older kids, had long stopped calling them mom and dad. In fact, Effie had to work with Rio so he wasn’t calling her mom and she was already trying to make sure baby Lola knew she was her big sister, not her mom. The fact was, Effie never expected to have a relationship, never thought she’d find a man who’d accept her crazy situation. She was, essentially, the parent of seven kids, and she did and would do whatever was necessary to take care of them to the best of her ability. She was grateful for Fletcher, though. He’d helped ease some of the burden even in times where he was simply there – playing with the younger kids, helping pack lunches, or even just keeping her company. There were more times than she could count that he helped her feel sane – like tonight. If it weren’t for Fletcher, she might’ve called her older brother, and there was no telling what condition he’d be in at the moment. The last thing she wanted was for the younger kids to be around him when he was high or drunk or both. “You’re pretty amazing,” Effie smiled softly up at him. “I appreciate any time you’re here. And yes, maybe a trip to the park or something, get their minds off everything with Elias and Nola. I gotta work in the evening so it’ll be good, hopefully they’ll be calm for Madison.”

Fletcher understood, maybe more than most, just how much Effie carried on her shoulders day to day, even if she didn’t always say it outright; her world was loud, full, constantly in motion with siblings needing attention, energy bouncing off every wall, and very little space that truly belonged to just her. That was something Fletcher had come to appreciate about his own place, the quiet, the ability to shut the door and exist without expectations when he needed it, but Effie didn’t have that same escape unless she came to him, and that thought alone made him want to give her some kind of relief, even if it was temporary. “I think wearing them out would be a good idea,” he admitted, a small, thoughtful smile forming as he started piecing together a plan, his mind already turning it into something fun rather than chaotic. “We could split them into teams, make it competitive so they actually try to beat each other,” he suggested, a spark of amusement lighting up his expression, already imagining the inevitable arguing and determination that would come with it. “Except the little ones,” he added with a chuckle, shaking his head slightly, “we’ll just chase them around, they’ll be exhausted way before the others,” and there was a playful confidence in his tone, the kind that came from someone who had plenty of energy to burn himself.

Juliette knew he had been, she felt his gaze on her all day long. It had made her squirm in her skin at the way he had been unrelenting, like he was telepathically sending her messages about every little dirty thing he had wanted to do to her. It was enough to drive a woman mad. “You could have if you really wanted to,” she finds herself retorting because she just had to be a smart ass and give him a hard time after the torture she had gone through by not having him all day. Obviously that couldn’t actually happen, but a part of her felt a twinge of excitement at the thought of him doing anything to stake claim to her in front of other people. Even just putting an arm around her to show that they were connecting in some kind of way other than just pretending to be friendly because of her friendship with his sister. Sure, they could be more open when she snuck away to hang out with him and his friends because that group didn’t give a shit. They were cool people and just accepted that she hung around with them. But a part of her wanted that twenty-four/ seven. The idea that she could do that with him up at his college, the fact he wanted to have her come around, made her feel kind of happy. Even if she didn’t want to admit how much she really liked that idea. She watches as he slips the condom on, body practically vibrating with anticipation of what was to come. And it doesn’t disappoint, the blonde kept still and at his mercy as he eased every single inch into her at a painfully slow rate. Her head falls back and she moans, the sound getting slightly louder when he teases at her clit. “Dallas,” she breathes out, her voice deep from need. One hand grips at his forearm, her hips trying to arch in order to force him deeper. She didn’t care about seeming needy. She wanted him and to feel the pleasure only he could provide lately.

Dallas’s smirk only widened as he watched the flash of defiance in Juliette’s eyes, knowing full well she was testing him and enjoying every second of it. The crowded house around them hummed with distant conversation and laughter, voices drifting from the living room and kitchen, a constant reminder that they were far from alone. That was precisely why she kept pushing him. He knew better than to react the way she wanted, at least not here. His friends already adored her, something that had surprised him at first but had quickly become inevitable. Juliette fit effortlessly into every room she entered, charming people without even trying. It was his sister’s opinion that worried him. She noticed everything, asked too many questions, and had a talent for stirring up family drama whenever she sensed something was being kept from her. If she started making assumptions about him and Juliette, his parents would immediately take her side, just as they always had, leaving him frustrated and defensive. He wasn’t prepared to deal with that battle yet. For now, he preferred keeping whatever existed between him and Juliette confined to stolen moments and private conversations. As she lay there, looking entirely too pleased with herself, he leaned closer, closing the small distance between them before pressing a brief kiss to her lips. “Juliette,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice low enough that only she could hear. His grin returned as he pulled back slightly, close enough to catch the sparkle in her eyes. “You need to be quiet.” A soft chuckle escaped him, warm and amused rather than serious. He tilted his head toward the hallway, where footsteps echoed faintly beyond the doorway. “People are down the hall,” he reminded her, though the playful expression on his face suggested that her silence was the very last thing he expected. He thrusted into her faster, starting up a decent pace. His lips moving down to her breast, sucking one nipple between his parted lips. "You're so fucking stunning."

Selene won’t lie and say she wasn’t addicted to the way they would stare at her. It made her feel good knowing that she could grab each of their full attention without even having to try that hard. Which was pretty resounding since they basically had almost every woman thirsting after them around here. But none of them had her boys the way she did. She watches them both as they take her in. Of course she thrived off of their compliments, knowing that she was driving them wild just making her happy. “That goes for you too, Dean,” she counters right back when he insists Garrett behave himself. She really needed to start this project, but their hungry eyes on her was slowly making her want to just let it be for a little bit. It was hard not to feel that way when she had two of the hottest guys on campus naked and looking at her like they wanted to devour her. Any reasonable woman attracted to the opposite sex would be feeling the same way if they were in her position. Lips quirk up ever so slightly as if she’s debating something in her mind. “Ten minutes of fooling around,” she finally states, smiling a bit. “Then we get back to work. Deal?” She offers the compromise for all of their sakes because she knew going back to trying to focus was going to be way too difficult right now.

Kat nods in agreement, willing to try anything at this point. She just wanted to feel better. “I’m cool with that, if it means the headache will ease up. I haven’t even been able to play my guitar for the past week.” She follows him back to the room and she steps inside to look around. She didn’t feel worried or anything. He was really professional and his calming nature made her feel at ease. She listens to his instructions, head turning to look back at him once again. “Okay, sounds easy enough,” she softly jokes. Making her way to the side room, she’s not even sure what to dress down to. Of course she wasn’t going to get naked, that would be weird. So she decides on stripping down to her bra and panties before grabbing for the robe he had waiting back there for her. She slips it on, tying it loosely. Coming back out, she carefully makes her way to the table and gets herself situated like he instructed. She settles on her stomach and places her head in the hole. “Okay,” she tells him, taking a breath as she tries to relax. “This feels weird,” she muses with a laugh, the position of her head in the face hole feeling funny to her. “Do people like talk during these things or am I supposed to just be quiet to relax?” She questions out of curiosity. It was the nerves making her talk and she knew she needed to just let herself mellow out. “I’m sorry.. I’m annoying when I get anxious.” Which she felt like was often. She was always hyper aware of how she acted, worried that she would get on someone’s nerves and that just made her end up more anxious. It was a vicious cycle.

Lawson turned back toward Kat the moment she said she was ready, his expression calm and professional, though there was an easy warmth in the way he approached her, clearly wanting her to feel comfortable before anything began; he paused at a respectful distance, giving her space as he spoke, his tone measured and reassuring, “Different people react different. If you prefer a conversation flowing so there isn’t an awkward silence, I’m happy to talk with you,” offering a small, understanding smile before continuing, “Or if you prefer to have your treatment in silence, I could put some relaxing music on and you can just enjoy the massage,” making it clear the experience would be shaped around her preferences rather than his routine, then adding with a quiet, almost amused honesty, “Personally I prefer a small conversation flowing because the sounds of the oils and stuff that is used can sound funny coming out the bottles, you can’t hear it over conversations,” the comment lightening the atmosphere just enough to ease any lingering tension; he shifted slightly closer then, still careful and respectful, his movements unhurried as he asked, “Can I take the robe off you and replace it with a towel that covers anything I don’t need to see?” ensuring consent before proceeding, his professionalism evident in both his wording and demeanour, and after giving her a moment to respond, he added, “I’m going to work on your back first,” his voice steady and informative, signalling the beginning of the session while maintaining that balance between reassurance and clear communication. "It'll be a little bit of pleasure. Nothing uncomfortable. Just me kneading the tension and knocks out."

Open starter for Sawyer Sullivan (Jacob Elordi fc)

“So you decided to help yourself to whatever in my kitchen,” Nova said, a small, knowing smirk tugging at her lips as she leaned casually against the counter, clearly more amused than annoyed. “Not your own stuff, just the groceries I brought yesterday.” A soft chuckle slipped out, light and teasing rather than sharp. She tilted her head slightly, studying them with playful curiosity. “Does it taste good at least?” she added, her tone warm.

open: f // mutuals & non-mutuals

closed starter for @brokensbcys | violet x greyson

Greyson stepped into the room with a casual confidence that felt almost rehearsed, the faint crinkle of a half-empty bag of salt and vinegar potato chips breaking the silence as he chewed, his gaze settling on Violet with a sharp, assessing edge. “I wasn’t that long,” he muttered, though his narrowed eyes suggested he was already searching for signs of disobedience. He crossed the space slowly, deliberately, as if savouring the control he held, and extended the open bag toward her with a gesture that might have seemed kind if not for the tension behind it. The sharp tang of vinegar hung faintly in the air. “You been behaving yourself?” he asked, his tone deceptively light, though the question carried weight. He already knew the answer, because he had arranged things carefully, ensuring she couldn’t leave, couldn’t interfere, couldn’t do much of anything without his say. Still, he watched her closely.

blake was pretty good at reading other people - or at least, reading women. and his liar alarms were going off, but for her sake, he played along. he was amused by this interaction, by this woman - he didn't want to scare her away by calling her a liar or acting like she had some ulterior motive to watching him fuck another woman. "i see." he said slowly, measured. while her gaze moved to other things in the room, his stayed steady on her, piercing. "she's not my girlfriend." blake stepped forward as she moved backwards, keeping the distance between them the same. "i don't do girlfriends. because then i wouldn't be able to have conversations like this, which i am very much enjoying," he said, corner of his lip raised in a smirk. "what's so wrong about this conversation, anyway? i'm quite flattered by it."

Cove crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her posture guarded as she listened to Blake. She bit down on her bottom lip, a habit that surfaced whenever her thoughts started racing faster than she could filter them, and tilted her head slightly. “So what are you two then?” she asked, her tone trying for casual but landing somewhere closer to probing. There was a brief pause before she continued, unable to stop herself now that the question had formed. “Do the two of you just hook up?” Her brows knit together faintly, searching their expressions for any hint of honesty. “Is it like a no-strings-attached type of thing?” she added, the words tumbling out as curiosity got the better of her, though there was an undercurrent of something more. "I ask a lot of questions, you've probably realized that at this point." She grinned.

It was no secret to Tim that he was something of a comfort person, a safe space for El- and that feeling was entirely mutual. His hand moves, but outward to rest on the side of her hip as he listens to her recapitulate the events of the evening before his arrival. Another sip, and he's chuckling into the rim of the glass as she mentions getting her mic cut off. "Me- flirting? No- I just got a call I had been waiting on when heading out-- decided to take it, ended up being longer than expected. And for that I'm sorry. I really wanted to see your presentation..." Tim pouts feeling a bit bad and knocks his head against hers in a playful nature.

Eleanora reached up and gently rubbed at a faint mark on Tim’s shoulder, her touch light and absentminded as if she were trying to fix something small and harmless. “It’s okay,” she said softly, her tone easing into something playful. “When I have to do another one, I’ll make sure I practise it with you so you can see every single bit of it.” She teased him with a small grin, trying to lift the mood and brush off any lingering tension. As she shifted closer, she leaned into his side, her arm slipping naturally around his waist in a comfortable, familiar way. “I didn’t realise people were going to get so wasted,” she admitted, shaking her head a little. “Maybe I should’ve toned the drinks down a bit.” Her smile lingered though, more amused than concerned, as if the chaos around them was already becoming a story she would laugh about later.