#‘we’ve been waiting here for hours!!’

[watchmegetobsessed]

LITTLE NERDY VALENTINE

A/N: one day late, but here's a bit of valentine's day cuteness with fratry bc i've been thinking a lot about him lately

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

SUMMARY: Harry wants to celebrate Valentine's Day, but you're not a fan of his plans of going out and you have your reasons for that, but talking about them is not easy, so it causes some frustration.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“So, what do you want to do on Friday?” 

Harry is lying on your bed with a textbook lying open over his chest, but he hasn’t read a single word of it in the last hour, he’s been too busy playing on his phone while you were sitting at your desk, working on a paper that’s due next week. He came over to study, but you both knew you’d be doing all the studying, you actually have no idea how Harry has good grades. 

“Friday? What’s on Friday?” you hum, still typing away on your computer, pretending to be oblivious.

“You know…” He draws out the words, sitting up so his back is against the wall. He puts the textbook aside, closing it, done pretending he is actually reading any of it. 

“Hm?” You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen, but you can feel Harry’s burning eyes on your back. 

“Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day,” he chuckles, giving up the game. “We are having a Cupid’s Party at the frat house, but if you want to go out, maybe have dinner or something I’m down.”

“Uh, I don’t know…” 

“Or we can go to the movies, I’m willing to watch that new romcom with you, if you want.”

“Harry…” Sighing you give up and finally turn with your chair to look at him, but you wish you didn’t because he is giving you those puppy eyes he knows you can’t resist and he is hugging your pink fluffy pillow like a little kid. 

“Y/N?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out.”

You catch the tiny wince that twitches his lips, but he recovers quickly. You were really hoping you could avoid this conversation today, though part of you knew it would come up, since it’s Wednesday, only 2 days until Valentine’s Day. 

His eyes jump down at the pillow as he starts fumbling with it, like a hurt kid who just got told no. 

“Harry…”

“Are we ever gonna leave this room and act like a real couple?” 

“Don’t start this again, please…”

“I just understand, Y/N,” he groans as he looks up at you again. “We’ve been together for over two months and I haven’t even held your hand in public.”

“That’s not true, you held my hand when–”

“When we were hiking in the middle of the woods so no one could see us. Yeah, you’re right,” he scoffs. 

“We’ve talked about this,” you say, looking down at your lap as the guilt bubbles in your gut. 

“Actually, we haven’t. You just keep telling me you need more time, but never really explain why or what bothers you. I’m trying to be patient, but I really want to take our relationship out of this tiny dorm room.” He gestures around your room where you spend the majority of your time together with him. 

Chewing on your bottom lip you just keep picking on your chipped nail polish, not looking at him, but then he climbs to the edge of the bed so he is sitting right in front of you. He lifts your chin gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong? I’m more than happy to wait for you, but I need to know a bit more.” He places a hand to your thigh, reassuringly rubbing it as he waits for you to say something. 

“I’m just… I don’t know, I like that it’s just the two of us.”

“Bullshit. It would still be just us.”

Ugh, you hate how well he knows you, you can’t lie to him, but you’re not willing to tell him the truth either. 

“Can we just not talk about this right now? I really need to finish this pa–”

“Y/N, stop avoiding this, please. You know you can tell me anything.”

He is looking at you, waiting and expecting, but you just can’t give him what he wants. His gaze keeps flickering between your eyes, hoping you’d finally open up, but you keep your mouth shut. And then he loses his patience.

“Alright then,” he whispers, jumping up to gather his things, showing everything into his backpack.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him tug the zipper angrily before swinging the bag over one shoulder. 

“I can’t do this, Y/N. I don’t want to hide and not even know why. You wouldn’t tell me what bothers you, so I have to draw my own conclusions and want to know what all of this seems like to me? Like you don’t want to be seen with me, like you’re ashamed of being with me.”

“Harry, that’s not true,” you protest, standing from your chair. 

“Then what is it?”

You open your mouth, but your voice dies in your throat. Unfortunately, Harry takes that as your answer. 

“Okay. Call me when you’re willing to talk.”

And with that, he is out of the room. 

A couples’ party might not have been the best place to be today for Harry, but the thought of easing his mind with a few rounds of beerpong was good enough to make him leave his room and join the party. 

Cupid’s Party usually has two groups of people: the happy couples, attached by the hip, eating each other’s face off and the single people getting wasted, hoping to at least hook up with someone. Currently Harry doesn’t feel like he belongs to any of these groups.

He assesses the living room over the rim of his red solo cup and tries his best to ignore the pain in his chest at the sight of all the happy couples in matching outfits, celebrating their love. In the beginning of the week he was still hoping he and you might be one of them, but things didn’t turn out to be the way he planned. 

After the fight in your room you texted him, asking him to come back, but he made it clear he wouldn’t be doing that unless you’re willing to talk.

Which you werent, so it’s been radio silence since then. 

He had to stop himself from texting or calling you like a million times, it’s been quite the fight since Wednesday, he’s been missing you like crazy, but he is also determined to finally move forward. 

“You alright man?” Niall pats him on the back with a cup in his own hand that smells so much of alcohol that Harry can’t stop himself from wrinkling his nose. While he likes to have drinks, he is often surprised how some of his friends in the house haven’t died of alcohol poisoning.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he nods with a sigh. 

“Uhuh, that’s why you’ve been moping around for days, right?” Niall laughs.

“I have not–”

“I have not been moping, you arse!” Niall mocks him, which he finds hilarious, but Harry just rolls his eyes and takes a swig from your drink. “Alright, if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push it, but if you feel like you need a shoulder, you can come to me.”

“I know,” Harry sighs. “Thanks, I’ll just get a refill for now,” he says, holding up his cup. Niall nods and they go their separate way.

Harry fights through the crowd towards the kitchen and tries his best not to get stopped by drunk girls that are more than eager to hook up with him tonight. He would love to tell them he is taken, but he can’t. Even despite the fight you had, he still doesn’t want to go against your will and tell everyone that you’re dating. 

The kitchen is a mess, but he quickly finds the tequila and then mixes it with some pineapple juice, then he stops by the pizza and grabs a slice so his stomach wouldn’t be completely empty. Though his original plan was to get drunk, but now he is not feeling that, so this is probably his last drink, since he is starting to feel a bit dizzy. 

Leaning against the counter he is debating if he should just go back to his room and spend the rest of the night playing video games, but then he spots an all too familiar face in the crowd outside in the hallway. 

You look very uncomfortable, navigating between the half drunk people while looking like you’re searching for someone. Harry puts his pizza slice down right away and he just starts moving towards you when he sees a guy bumping into you, making your shoulder hit the wall.

“Ah, sorry sweetheart, you alright?” the guy asks and his hand is already on your arm, leaning way closer than you’d like him to.

“It’s okay Dave, I got her.” Harry pats him on the back in a friendly manner, though inside he is fuming at the way he is looking at you right now, like he is ready to peel you out of your clothes. 

“Harry, hey! I was just–”

“I know, I got her,” Harry repeats, this time with a tougher look at the guy, which he finally notices so he just nods and wanders away. “Are you okay?” he asks, finally looking at you, keeping one hand on your elbow.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” you ask and Harry nods right away, moving his hand to the small of your back, guiding you upstairs, towards his room. 

You’ve been to his frat house, you actually met him at a party here, but you’ve never been to his room. If the other boys saw you coming and going from his room it would have been quite obvious there’s something going on between the two of you, so you usually stayed at your dorm room where it was easier for Harry to sneak out without being noticed, that place is too big for anyone to notice him.

The hallway leading to his room is scattered with couples making out by the wall and you try not to stare at the pair that’s practically dry humping each other like they are in a private place. 

Harry unlocks his door with his keycard and then ushers you inside, finally shutting the noises of the party out. You’re curiously looking around the room that’s a lot tidier than you expected. Aside from a few clothes lying in the corner and two unwashed mugs on his night stand, it’s pretty neat. On his desk you notice the book you gifted him a week ago. You pick it up and open it where the bookmark is at around the third of the book and then you realize the bookmark is a polaroid of the two of you. It was taken the first time he slept in your room, your faces are mushed together as you laugh at something. You remember him taking a picture, but you weren’t expecting him to use it as his bookmark, which is such a sweet thing. 

He has been nothing but sweet to you and that just makes your guilt even worse for treating him the way you did. 

When you turn around you find him watching you with his hands in his pockets, just patiently waiting for you to start talking. 

“I’m sorry for making you feel like I’m ashamed of you. That was never the case and… yeah, I’m just really sorry.”

Harry nods, but then just keeps looking at you and you know he wants you to continue. So taking a deep breath you force yourself to keep talking before you chicken out. 

“I was actually thinking it was the other way around.”

That confuses him, he frowns but before he could ask anything you just continue.

“We are not really from the same crowd. You’re… You live in a frat house, you play football, people know you around campus while I’m more like just… a face in the crowd. I know it’s such a cliché, but I felt like that if people saw us together they would question why you’d go out with me a-and–Um… I just…”

“And you thought that I would also question why I’m with you?” he finishes what you couldn’t and you just nod, feeling your throat closing up. It’s been such a heavy weight on your chest the past weeks and now that you said it out loud it’s a relief but you’re also worried how Harry will think of you now. 

Then his eyes soften and stepping closer he gathers your hands between his palms, holding them to his chest. 

“Y/N, you realize this is not a movie where there are popular kids and nerds and they never talk?” he asks with a soft chuckle, making you laugh. 

“I know. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s just been haunting me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” you repeat. “Deep down I knew it, but I just couldn’t help it. I thought that I could get rid of it with time, but I couldn’t and I swear I didn’t want to hurt you with all of this, it’s just that I can easily get into these… spirals and it’s so hard to get out of them.”

“I know,” he softly says and leaning closer he kisses your forehead. “I just wish you told me so I could help you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay.”

Letting go of your hands he cups your cheeks in his palms as he pulls you in for a kiss while your hands fist the fabric of his shirt at his waist. He is sweet and gentle, his lips reassuring you that he is right here, with you. He rests his forehead against yours, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. 

“By the way, did you just call me a nerd?” you ask, opening your eyes, making Harry laugh with your words.

“Do you not fit the nerdy stereotype of romcoms?” he challenges you with a wide grin on his face.

“Well, I do study a lot and spend every other afternoon in the library.”

“See? You’re my little nerdy Valentine,” he arches an eyebrow and you just roll your eyes at him, but can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. Then slowly, his expression turns more serious. “So what would you like to do now?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a sigh.

“Listen. If you need more time… I’m okay with that. I want you to feel comfortable and if that means that I have to convince you that no one will point fingers at us if they see us together, then that’s what I’ll do.”

You’ve known it from the beginning, but Harry just keeps proving that he is the right person for you and you couldn’t be more thankful for him. 

Leaning in you kiss him shortly. “I want to move forward, I’m just a bit scared.”

“Then you’ll lead us in whatever pace feels comfortable for you, okay?”

You nod and he kisses you again. 

“Do you want to go back down?” he asks, nodding towards the door. 

“Yeah, I would like that.”

Walking out of his room he locks the door and the two of you head back down and you notice that he is still keeping his distance from you, not trying to change everything all of a sudden. Returning to the kitchen he makes you a drink and he grabs another slice of pizza when Niall emerges from the crowd. 

“Hey, you’re still here! Thought you’d lock yourself up in your room soon,” he chuckles seeing Harry.

“You thought I’d bail?” Harry grins, leaning against the counter. Niall’s eyes move over to you.

“I think we haven’t met yet. I’m Niall.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand. You catch a look the two boys exchange and after that, Niall just smiles at Harry knowingly.

“Alright, I’ll be by the beerpong tables if you need me,” he waves before making his way out of the kitchen. 

“You have a bit of sauce there,” you point at Harry’s mouth smiling.

“Hm? Here?” he asks, wiping his lips, but he completely misses the spot, making you laugh. “Where?” he grins.

“Right there…” You raise a hand to help him out, but it stops midway when a thought pops into your mind and before you could talk yourself out of it, you lean in and kiss his lips. 

“Now you’re good,” you smile against his lips. Harry can’t contain his growing grin, because this was the first time you kissed him in front of other people. 

“I think it’s still there.”

“Oh yeah?” you chuckle at him.

“Yeah, all over my lips, everywhere.”

“Stop,” you roll your eyes at him laughing. He leans down and kisses you shortly before he continues eating his pizza, trying his best not to comment it when your hand sneaks into free hand, fingers lacing together.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Dearest friend and companion,

Happy Valentine’s Day. Those of us in the mansion are wishing you a particularly sweet day, filled with love and joy, and plenty of chocolate. I am sending you this letter on behalf of all of my employees to invite you to be our Valentine.

We’ve already spent so many Valentine’s days together, and we would be absolutely overjoyed if you would do us the honor of spending another with us this year. When you arrive at the mansion, you will find many things waiting for you. The bakers in the mansion have spent the last week toiling away, trying to perfect the best chocolates possible for you, whether in cake form or a snack sized morsel, they’ve given it their all to make you a variety of desserts to your liking, myself included. Even little Sally decided to participate this year, in an attempt to make you the most delicious cupcake she could. It is… Quite a unique cupcake, especially in size and decoration, though she assured me that it’s very delicious, and safe for consumption.

Events have been put together, tailored just for you, including your favorite games and movies, organized in the perfect order by BEN himself to get the maximum flow and joy out of them for you. Toby has insisted upon making the largest blanket fort possible for everyone to relax in, so I do hope you’ll find some comfort here. All of the blankets and pillows in the entirety of the mansion have been moved to this location, although Toby assured me cleanup would be taken care of. Please do mind your step so as not to slip.

All of us residents have also put together gifts for you as well, and we hope you’ll find just what you’ve been looking for amongst the bouquets and cards accompanying them. Whether you seek to find a partner or a friend amongst the many hearts offering themselves to you this year, we simply hope you’ll find the perfect match for you on this lovely day. Please be aware that there is apparently a bet going on spurred on by some of our rowdier residents based on who could be the best Valentine for you, so keep that in mind whether you wish to view them all the same, or choose your favorite special someone this year. Jeff requested I add a note that while he did make a remark that he obviously had the best gift for you, he did not incite the arguments nor suggest the betting, although he thinks he should receive first place. I will avoid stating my own personal opinion on this matter, though it would be the world’s greatest honor should you choose my own gift as your favorite.

Regardless of how you choose to spend this Valentine’s Day with us, we all simply hope that you may enjoy yourself to the fullest extent amidst our company. We’ve all put in many hours of work and thought into planning this event for you, so it would mean the world to us all should you choose to attend and spend the day with us. You are always our most treasured guest, and we will do all that we can to insure maximum joy and comfort for you, so please, feel free to request anything you might need from us upon arrival.

We hope that this letter finds you well, with all of our love and thoughts of you.

Yours truly,

Slender M.

[f1samcro]

Stitches

“Jackson Teller. Stab wounds to upper left thigh and lower left abdomen,” the nurse says as she passes you the chart. 

Your eyes flick up to look at her, eyebrow arched, “As in, President of SAMCRO? Dr. Knowles’s ex? The friend I told last month that I didn’t want to see him in here again?”

She nods, watching as you open the chart and look through it. “One and the same.”

“I’ll go look at him. Stitches?”

“I would think so.”

You sigh and head towards the bed, staring down at the blonde man with a smug smirk on his face. “Do I wanna know how one of you has ended up in my E.R. once again, despite the fact I told you not to?”

Jax shakes his head, “Probably not.”

You hum, slipping the chart into its spot at the end of the bed and pulling gloves on. You sit on the wheely stool next to the bed and reach out to take off the impromptu dressing. It looks worse than it is, you put the dressing back over it and over to the thigh wound. “Well, it doesn’t look like it’s nicked any organs. Or caused permanent damage, apart from scarring. But I’ll get the nurse to book a CT scan just in case,” you slip the gloves off and stand up, “After that I’ll come and stitch you up, and you can go.”

He nods, “How long is that gonna take?”

“Couple hours depending on how busy the machine is.”

True to your word, Jax was ready to go just almost two hours later. “I want you back in two weeks so I can take your stitches out,” you say as you stand up.

“You got it, doc,” he salutes, standing up slowly, “But I’ll see you sooner. If not for one of the guys, the kids have check ups.”

“I’m well aware, Teller. Take care, I don’t want you in my E.R. again for a while.”

“Gettin’ sick of my face?”

You smile, signing something on the chart, “Who wouldn’t?”

“Ouch, doc. That hurt.”

“As much as that stab wound?”

He laughs softly, “Almost.”

“You are free to go,” you tuck the chart under your arm, “No strenuous activity-”

“No bike riding, no fights, I know,” he waves his hand dismissively.

“I mean it,” you say sharply, staring him down, “None of it.”

Jax salutes you as he walks towards Chibs, standing in the waiting room. The second the two are through the door, Tara is walking briskly towards you, “Why was Jax here?”

“Can’t tell you,” you say dryly, handing the chart back to the nurse, “Patient confidentiality and all.”

“He’s my husband,” her eyes narrow, hands in her pockets.

“Was. You two are divorced, Dr. Knowles. And even if you weren’t, he has to tell you. Not me,” the nurse smiles.

You turn and walk away, only for Tara to follow, “You like him.”

“Yes, Tara. That tends to happen in small towns. We were friends in school, have been since freshman year. Nothing more.”

“I’ll report you to the board.”

You spin, narrowing your eyes and tilting your head, “About me having a friendly relationship with Jax? One that we’ve had for 20 years? You slept with him whilst you were his son’s doctor. You formed a romantic relationship with a patient’s parent. The board will have much more to say about that. I’m only Abel and Thomas’s doctor until the new paed’s fellow gets here. Now, I’ve been here for twelve hours. I would like to clock out. Is that going to be an issue?”

“No. None at all.”

“Good.”

Well, work had been awkward. Tara was watching your every move, as she had done for the past month. You had even asked another doctor to handle removing Jax’s stitches so Tara didn’t try to start something. But, the new paediatrics fellow had arrived last week, and took over Abel and Thomas for the future. The past four weeks have been interesting. Tara’s friend, Margaret Murphy, from admin, had been on your tail for all of it. 

As you have done every single Sunday since freshman year, you sat at Gemma Teller’s dinner table, Jax across from you, Thomas and Abel on either side. Gemma put a plate of food in front of you, followed by a beer, “You look stressed, baby.”

You shrug, picking up the bottle and drinking. “Long week.”

Jax tilts his head, “Care to share?”

“Nope.”

Abel giggles, playing with your hair, while Thomas babbles, chubby hands smacking onto his high chair tray. Clay slumps back in his chair, scoffing, “Dunno why you’re a doctor. Too pretty to be this tired and stressed all the time.”

After almost 20 years of dealing with Clay’s greasy smile and comments that made your skin crawl, they still made your stomach churn. Jax turns to look at him, “Clay. Knock it off.”

You pick at your food, avoiding Gemma’s gaze, “I haven’t seen you this stressed out since your board exams, honey. What’s goin’ on?”

You look over at Gemma, her eyes set on you. She wasn’t gonna give up. So you sigh, put your fork down, and slump in your chair, “Tara’s threatenin’ to report me to the board. So Margaret’s breathing down my neck with everything I do. Simply because I wouldn’t tell her why Jax was in the E.R. the other day. She’s all upset about us bein’ friends. But we’ve been friends for longer than I’ve been a doctor, so the board won’t do anything.”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?!”

Abel jumps at the sound of his father’s raised voice. Gemma shoot’s Jax a look before looking back at you, “The board can’t do nothing, baby.”

“I know that. But I’d like to go to work without having someone watching my every move just ‘cos I fucked off that pretentious bitch,” you rub Abel’s back gently, “Eat your dinner, Abel.”

Jax put his beer down aggressively, “I’ll talk to her.”

You narrow your eyes, “You most absolutely will not.”

Gemma raises her hand at Jax, causing him to go quiet, “You could always go to one of the higher ups and report a hostile work environment.”

Jax pipes up again, “If that doesn’t work, I’m talkin’, don’t care what you say.”

“Jack-”

“Don’t Jackson me,” he snaps, “If that doesn’t work, I’ll talk to Tara. That’s it. No arguin’ with me,” you glare, “And wipe that look of your face or I’m doin’ it for you.”

You go silent, looking back at your food, “You’re an asshole.”

“That’s been well established, darlin’.”

You clocked out Tuesday night, only to find Jackson Nathaniel Teller standing in the waiting room. “What do you want, Teller?”

“Margaret and Tara won’t be botherin’ you anymore,” he holds his hand out, “Ma want’s you at the clubhouse.”

“I just worked 12 hours, Jackson,” but you take it, eyes blinking blearily.

“You can nap in my old dorm, and I’ll take you home after.”

He tugs, sending someone a smirk as you follow. You look over, hearing someone huff, Tara. Margaret stand’s next to her, looking over at Jax with wide eyes. “What did you do?”

“Exactly what I said I would. Now let’s go.”

[alieinthemorning]

Acts of Service [Caleb]

Content: Self-Indulgent, Brown-Skinned Reader, Brown-Eyed Reader, Domestic Fluff, Confessions, Getting Together, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Soft Caleb, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: She/Her

Note: I see Caleb within the childhood friend trope. Anything outside of that makes me uncomfortable, so I won’t be engaging with it in any sort of way.

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries

Wanna support me? Here’s my Ko-Fi!

The second you are about to enter the shower, a presence makes itself known at your door. You sigh, heading to the door with an inkling of who it is. 

“Hey, pip-squeak—woah!” Caleb’s cheerful greeting turns into a flustered one as he takes in your towel covered figure. 

“Hurry up, you’re letting all the heat out.” You wave him in as you turn around. “You’re the one who interrupted me, so now you gotta wait.”

“I, uh…okay…” He shut the door behind him, lingering in the front hall. 

And wait he did. You didn’t take too long, but you did take your time. Especially with moisturizing. You had to take extra precautions in this cold weather, after all. Least your brown skin end up ashy. You put on your coziest clothes, and a nice fragrance. Taking a swig of water to rehydrate, you take a moment to ponder. You need to wash your hair—that’s also on today’s to-do list, however, you really didn’t want to wash your hair now since the shower had tuckered you out immensely.

Oh, wait. There is someone who’s done it before in your house right now.

“Caleb!” You rush out your room, and burst into the living room. “Can you wash my hair?”

His face scrunches up for a moment before it relaxes into a grin. “You leave me here all by my lonesome for an hour, and now you wanna put me to work?” He chuckled as he stands. “Sure, I’ll do it.” 

“Great! I’ll go get my stuff—can you rinse the sink out?” 

“Already on it.” 

Having Caleb wash your hair was nice. Not only because you don’t have to wash your hair yourself (hehe), but also because…it reminds you of the old days. He’s still as gentle as he was before, he still takes the time on your problem areas, and he makes sure the temperature is perfect before putting you back under the water. 

You’re damn near asleep when he starts three-strand twisting your hair. The only thing keeping you awake is the chocolate that he had giving you—“as a friend”, he said.

“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, but it doesn’t feel like we’ve missed a beat.” Caleb reminisces.

You smile. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing earlier.” You yawn. “Even though my routine change a bit, you didn’t screw up.”

“Screw up?” He flicks the back of your neck. “I’m hurt that you think that I’d mess you up.”

The two of you share a laugh, and it’s nice. How long has it been since you’d been able to laugh like this? To be this close? To share in each other’s warm presences?

You yawn again as your bonnet is carefully put on. “So what now Did you have anything planned?”

“Nah, just wanted to come and visit”

You lean back into him, gazing up at his flushed face. “How about this: you go out and buy some stuff to stay the night and ingredients for dinner while I take a nap?”

“You’re havin’ me do all the work while you laze around yet again.” He shook his head without an inch of malice. 

“Like you’d have it any other way.”

His smile becomes softer as he replies. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He gently nudges you off him so he can stand. “So what do you want for dinner?”

“Surprise me.” You join him, stretching. “I’m putting all the work into planning this date, you can do a little something.”

You make your way to your bedroom, a skip in your step as you hear the tail end of his sentence that he murmurs under his breath. 

“...she’s gonna be the end of me.”

Your nap came and went. You don’t know how much time passed, but it didn’t matter as you were woken up to the delicious smell of Caleb’s food. You were immediately able to pick out the fried chicken just from the smell. 

“Oh, I’m bout to smack this back like a damn heart attack.” You say as you take your seat. You notice that the flowers that he had also brought are now being used as a centerpiece. 

How romantic. 

Caleb outright laughed, as he placed a few dumplings on your plate. “Where did that come from?”

“A friend.” You say through a mouthful of rice. “When she said that it really resonated with me.”

The meal is just like earlier when he was twisting your hair. It’s warm and inviting. It’s like meeting each other again without missing a beat. It’s familiar. 

It’s…home. 

He’s home. 

You smile. “Welp, you’ve given me a wonderful Azure Echo’s Day—even though I was supposed to do all the work. So! I’ve got you on next time!” You wink at him. 

His smile falters a bit. “Haha…you don’t gotta to…”

“I insist.” You push, “I mean, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

This time the smile falls entirely. “Can you…not…do that?”

Your elbows hit the table, fingers lace together as you lean on your head on them. “Do you think I’m joking, Caleb?”

He looks away quietly. 

“I’m not being serious.” You sigh. “I’m not playing with your feelings. I know how you feel about me, and I know how you feel about you. And…” You pause, chewing your bottom lip for a moment before continuing. “...If we don’t cross the line now, we might not ever get the chance to again. We can’t keep being scared of destroying our peaceful friendship while being miserable because we never even tried to be more than that.”

He finally looks at you, and says your name ever so softly. His sugilite gaze is the same, and full of love. You wonder if your own brown one is reflecting the same.

“So?” A mischievous hint in your tone. “Are you gonna ask?”

“But you just said—”

“You should still ask me properly!” 

His sighs through a smile before getting up and rounding the table. He pulls you up to join him, holding you close and asks:

“Will you be my girlfriend?” 

Although the two of you did it a little backwards, February 14th marks the day that the two of you shared your first kiss as a couple.

THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR MEEEEE

ON AZURE ECHO'S DAY

DURING BLACK HISTORY MONTH

FOR MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

[mysteriousxgirls]

Aida raised an eyebrow, her smile still lingering as she shot Leo a playful glance. "Oh, don't worry, I plan on taking you down at every game, just so you don't get too cocky." She leaned in, lowering her voice slightly as if sharing a secret. "But I’ll let you have the illusion of victory at the basketball hoops. For now."

She laughed, the sound light and easy, completely in sync with the atmosphere around them. Her competitive edge was returning, but it felt different this time. It wasn’t about proving anything—it was about enjoying the moment, about the shared connection that was starting to feel effortless. "Alright, Leo," she said, shifting her focus back to the game. "You better bring your A-game. I’m about to break your high score."

____

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the streets as Aida and Leo walked out of the arcade. The neon lights from the machines still lingered in her mind, but the outside world felt quieter, calmer in comparison. Aida glanced at her phone, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wow, we’ve been in there for hours," she said, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "I didn’t even realize how much time had passed. It feels like we just got here."

She stretched, feeling a pleasant ache in her arms from all the games, and a deep satisfaction that had settled in her chest. It had been so long since she'd gotten lost in something like that, the simplicity of it all so easy to enjoy. She hadn’t thought about anything else—the worries, the weird feeling, even the responsibilities waiting back home. None of it mattered while she was there with Leo, just playing, laughing, and feeling like she was exactly where she needed to be.

"You weren’t kidding about your skills," she added, still smiling. "But next time, I’m definitely beating you at those basketball hoops. You can count on it."

Leo grinned as he watched Aida’s smile spread, the playful glint in her eye settling the last bit of the tension that had been hanging in the air. He nudged her lightly, a teasing spark in his gaze. “That’s the spirit,” he said, his voice light, matching the energy in the arcade. “We’ve got too many high scores to beat to worry about anything else.” As they dove into the next round, Leo couldn’t help but notice how her laugh seemed to fill the space between them, pulling everything into focus. It was like the world outside the flashing lights and beeping machines didn’t even exist anymore—just the game, the easy banter, and the perfect mix of competition and comfort.

“You’re kicking my ass at this, though. Just wait until I get you on the basketball hoops. You'll smell defeat then I promise” The playful challenge was his signature move, but something about this moment felt different—like, for once, it wasn’t just about the win, but the fun of being right here, sharing the moment with her. He let out a mock sigh. “You might just be better than me.”

[thecreelhouse]

tramps like us

Paring: Gator Tillman x fem!reader

This is part of tramps like us, but can be read as a stand-alone (you might be lost with some details but overall it should be fine). I’m making this separate because I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you are reading the series, you can skip this if you aren’t interested!!

Summary: You finally bite the bullet on one of your most sought after kinks.

〘 series masterlist ✧.┊this is a sequel to part time soulmate, full time problem ✧.┊listen to the series playlist ✧.┊read on AO3〙

WC: 3.4k+

CW/includes: gunplay/CNC roleplay, dirty talk, teensy bit of hurt/comfort in the beginning, discussing safe sex and boundaries, bdsm elements, dacryphilia, oral (m & f receiving), object insertion 🫣, toys, minor spoiler details for the series (also gator is on the softer side in this series, so if you’re not into that this isn’t the fic for you)

A/N: yes. I know. The wedding chapter should’ve been next, but look, I’m finishing it up finally. This idea came to me for the holiday (I’m a day late don’t @ me), and who am I to turn down an opportunity to slut out? Friendly reminder THIS IS FICTIONAL and though I went the “safer” route in writing gunplay, please do not take this (or any of my fics) as advice for your own sex life lol. Everything in this is between two consenting adults, and I tried my best to research but I know nothing about guns irl lmao. If anything’s inaccurate just look the other way. hope y’all that read this enjoy it <3 (divider cred: @/saradika-graphics)

ch. 10 ✧.┊

sick thoughts - Lou Bliss

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

⋆｡♪ look what you’ve caused / you got ‘em too / sick thoughts ♬ ₊˚.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, you find Gator sitting in the kitchen, enjoying a bagel in the quiet morning hours. As you pour your coffee, you decide to pop the question, one that’s been on your mind for quite some time:

“You think it’s possible to safely fuck a gun?”

Gator sputters and coughs, bagel pieces flying onto the table as he clears his throat. Sipping from your mug, you wait patiently for him to regain composure.

He coughs out, “What the fuck?”

“Well, that’s not the reaction I expected,” you frown, pulling out a chair at the table to sit across from him. “Sorry, it’s just… been on my mind a lot.”

“I thought this was all an ‘in theory’ kinda kink?” Gator gulps down water, eyes misty from coughing so much. Okay. Yeah. Maybe this was a bad time to spring the question.

“Yeah, it is. It was. Kinda. I don’t know. I’m just asking!” You shrug, staring down at your mug. “You know I don’t know a damn thing about guns.”

He sighs with a serious expression, one that’s rare, even for him. “Darlin’, this ain’t somethin’ to mess around with.”

Brows furrowing, you scoff, “Since when do you care about safety? We’ve done knife play already!”

“Since ya’ told me about this to begin with,” he runs a hand down his face, stressed already. “I was gonna teach ya’ some shit last year, remember? And knife play’s dangerous too, but this is beyond that.”

“Yeah, yeah, and the timing was bad, and we never got around to it— so teach me now.”

Gator leans forward on the table, cautiously studying your face. “Why now?”

Embarrassment floods through you, keeping you tight lipped. You shake your head, leaving the table. “Forget it. You’re right.” You flop onto the couch, sighing, feeling ridiculous for even bringing it up.

“No, c’mon. Don’t be like that,” he groans as he follows you, dropping onto the couch, cuddling up against your side. “Somethin’ else is goin’ on.”

“It’s stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid if it’s botherin’ you, that’s what you’re always tellin’ me.” Gator hooks an arm around your waist, nudging you onto his lap. With ease, you settle against him, sighing again. His arms wrap around your waist, holding firmly. “M’gonna hold ya’ hostage here ‘til ya’ tell me what’s up.”

“Everything’s been so… perfect, and I feel off. And I hate that I feel off.” You wind your arms around his shoulders, resting your head on one of them. “There’s always been some kinda pain or traumatic bullshit goin’ on, I got used to it after awhile. But now… I- I don’t know what to do with myself. Nothing is wrong, I have everything I need, everyone I need, but I feel like something’s wrong and I feel so guilty for that. It feels bad, and it shouldn’t. Does that make any sense? ‘Cause it doesn’t make any damn sense to me.”

“We both were raised horribly, so it makes sense that’s kinda all we know… or knew for awhile. It makes sense to me.” He shrugs, trying to reassure you.

Sitting up, you dare to look him in the eye, bottom lip trembling. “Life feels so weird without the constant fight or flight… does that make me a bad person for missing it?”

He doesn’t answer you, only asks, “You’re still doin’ therapy, right?”

You huff, “Yeah. We talk about it. Just not… y’know… The gun play part.”

“Darlin’, a gun play scene ain’t gonna fix it. I know how big the trust is for ya’, but I’m not risking it.” Gator’s fingers dance along your spine in soothing repetitions. “I haven’t handled a gun in over a year, I don’t feel comfortable with this.”

“I know that, but I just… I want to feel something. But what I don’t want is to make you uncomfortable, so let’s forget it, okay? M’sorry for saying anything, I really didn’t mean to pressure you—“

He grabs your chin softly, tilting your face to look at him. 

“We can role play. It’s not the same, but it ain’t lethal, at least. Use a fake training gun, one that feels real, just ain’t functional. We go over the entire scene, what we want and don’t want, and if you’re comfortable with that, then I am, too.”

It might not be exactly what you wanted, but you knew Gator was right. Plus, you were kind of proud he was taking initiative to be safe with a scene; maybe you’ve corrupted him, but at least he’s being smart about it.

“Okay, as long as you’re comfortable, I am, too.” You kiss him softly. “I love you. Thank you.”

“Love you too, Darlin’.”

Everything down to the most minuscule details were discussed between you and Gator; what you wanted, what your hard limits were in a scene like this, choosing the traffic light system over a safeword, the kinds of replica firearms you were both comfortable with, so on.

Turns out, NYC’s gun laws are rigid even with prop guns, too. Gator was very serious, even about this; the replica was not to leave the house, ever. Which, okay, yeah, makes sense. You had no issue with that.

Valentine’s Day had a window of several hours where no one else would be home, out for plans or work, which you figured was perfect timing; though no one could hear you in the apartment, now that the vent’s fixed, you still wanted to play it completely safe.

Honestly, you tried to forget about the plan. Tried to ignore the details of the scene, but all day at work, your mind could only daydream of it. You may or may not have spaced out on a few customers, or dropped more than a few books dreaming of the possibilities of what could happen.

Didn’t help much how soaked you were just from those thoughts alone.

When you finally arrived home, the lights were off throughout the whole house, adding to the thrill. Cautiously, you climbed the stairs to your apartment, fumbling with your keys, hands shaking with excitement.

They slip from your fingers when something pokes the middle of your back, cool and hard. You freeze.

Oh, fuck.

“Go ‘head,” he rasps in your ear from behind, “Pick ‘em up, pretty girl.”

You expected to find Gator on the other side of the door, not out here; that was never decided on, you just assumed, and the surprise had you trembling already.

Slowly, you crouch down, hands grabbing at nothing in the dark. It takes a few tries until the metal jingles against your fingers. You bounce back up, unlocking the door, yet hesitating to open it.

“It’d be a shame if ya’ didn’t invite me in, princess.”

You nod wordlessly, stepping into the dark apartment, feeling the weapon as it prods at your spine while he follows you inside.

“Y- you know, my boyfriend’s gonna be home any minute—“

“Yeah? The former cop?” He breathes down your neck, licking a stripe up to the shell of your ear. “Heard he’s gone soft, bet he won’t do shit.”

You didn’t expect him to get so into this, but you’re loving it.

“Shut up,” you warn, but it comes out in a shaky whisper. Gator pushes the weapon into your back a little further.

“Don’t tell me what to fuckin’ do.” He nudges you towards the staircase. “Go on, show me where your toy box is so we can play.”

Dropping your things by the door, you make the slow journey across the apartment to the stairs, a little too slow for his liking. Gator pushes the muzzle into your back, grunting.

When you reach the loft bedroom, he asks softly, “Color?”

“Green,” you answer without hesitation, nodding eagerly. 

“Strip for me.” Gator flips the light on, casting a dim glow to the bedroom. With trembling hands, you remove your sweater and miniskirt, kicking your shoes off to leave you in the lingerie set he got you for Christmas, and your thigh highs.

When you look up, he’s perched on the edge of the bed in camo pants, combat boots, gun holster and bomber jacket, with a balaclava covering his face. Next to him is the replica gun— jesus, it’s a rifle, and it looks real.

He whistles lowly,  “Gon’ look so good on your knees f’me.” He beckons you over, and though hesitant, you obey. Spreading his legs, he leans down close, running a hand through your hair to tug. “Where’s your toys, princess?”

You glower his way. When you don’t answer, he pulls on your hair harder.

“Ah! T- top drawer!”

Gator releases you roughly, “Stay.” He finds his way over to the drawer, rummaging around for a bit until he settles on a toy. Kneeling behind you, he smacks your ass. “Up, on your knees, keep ‘em spread.” You comply, whimpering as you feel silk bondage rope wind around your thigh, with something attached. Shit. It’s your wand, pressed snugly against your clothed core.

“Look at that… you’re fuckin’ soaked already.”

“Shut up!”

Cuffing your hands behind your back, he mutters, “Wouldn’t do anything stupid if I were you.” He flicks the wand on, immediately jolting your body forward. You catch your balance, whining as you steady yourself on your knees. 

Rounding you, Gator sits back on the bed, unzipping his pants. You bite your lip, hoping to stifle any moans eager to already escape.

He removes a pistol from his holster, smirking wickedly down at you. Gently nudging the muzzle against your lips, he murmurs, “Open.” You obey, feeling the cool, heavy metal breach just past your lips. “Lick.” Dragging your tongue along the barrel, you glance up at Gator, watching his eyes darken through his mask. “Suck.”

At first, you don’t take much in, until he begins to meet the bobbing of your head with several pushes. The barrel lays heavy on your tongue, gagging when he pushes it once more. He pulls it out completely, chuckling as you drool all over yourself, panting and squirming against the vibrator.

“Pathetic slut. You’re close already, huh?”

You shake your head, choking back another moan.

“S’okay to like it,” Gator caresses your cheek, smirking at the tears already building in your eyes. “I won’t tell your boyfriend.”

“Please…”

“Please… what? C’mon, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart.” He shoves the muzzle into your cheek, rough enough to probably leave an imprint. “You got three seconds to start talkin’, princess.”

You shake your head again, frantic, eyes scrunching shut.

“Three… two… o—“

“Pl- please! I’ll do anything, don’t— don’t—“ A gasp is caught in your throat, and Gator’s about to check in again, but you babble out, “I’ll be good for you! Just let me cum, I’ll be so good, I won’t— I won’t say anything!”

His wicked grin is back, pulling the gun away before sickly praising you, “There she is, there’s the good girl I came to play with.” He grabs your chin, and you wince, a sob falling from your lips as you allow yourself to give into the pleasure.

“I’ll let you cum as much as ya’ want, but m’gonna keep that pretty mouth busy.” His hand winds through your hair, tugging you into his crotch. “Show me how bad ya’ want it.”

You whimper against his bulge, nuzzling as it hardens under his clothes. He pulls his pants down, grabbing the back of your head to shove your face against him again. You lap at the firm length through his briefs, soaking a dark spot next to another he started on his own.

“Guess I’m not the only one who’s wet,” you mutter. Gator grabs you by the hair again, forcing you to look up at him.

“What’d you say?”

“I said you’re wet too, prick.” You’re getting too mouthy, so Gator shoves the gun up to your head. Immediately you break into a sweat with unsteady breathing. “M’sorry, m’sorry!”

Both the gun and his hand fall away, freeing himself from his briefs. His length slaps against his tummy, precum leaking from the tip.

You don’t wait for his instruction, just dive in, licking a broad stripe up his shaft, taking him into your mouth in one fluid motion. You force yourself down as far as your throat allows, throwing Gator off with a shout.

He knows he won’t last long.

“Fuck— fuck—“ He bucks up into your face, shuddering as you gag around him. He begins fucking your face, easily reaching his high when he feels your moans vibrate around his cock, while watching mascara run down your face. His length twitches and pulses on your tongue, release shooting to the back of your throat. “Such a—“ he thrusts “-good-“ thrusts again “-fuckin’-“ and one more time, holding your face against the thatch of curls at his base  “-girl.”

Your orgasm hits, catching you by surprise as you were so distracted while Gator used you. Again, by the crown of your head, he yanks you back by your hair, watching with sick pleasure as you cry out your climax.

“Poor thing’s spent already, what a shame.”

“No, n- no I can keep going, please, I wanna, I need to,” you babble,  unbothered by how much of a disaster you must look like right now.

He looks down between your legs, watching as you drip through your panties, licking his lips. “Up.” His arms hook under your own, lifting you up onto shaky legs. You’re barely on your feet for long before he pushes you into the bed, face first.

Gator’s behind you, grabbing your hips to lift your ass up, giving a hard smack to your backside. Untying your wand from your leg, he pulls your panties down, sliding them off your legs and rounding the bed.

Crouching down next to you, he pets your hair out of your face, gently caressing his fingers against your scalp. 

“You know what to do if ya’ can’t verbally give me your color, right?” His voice matches his tender touch, and you nod. “Can you show me?”

Sliding his hand under yours, still cuffed behind your back, you tap his hand once “Green,” two times, “yellow”, and three times, “red.”

“That’s my girl,” Gator kisses your cheek, leaving you with a soft smile. “Color?”

“Green.” Your dazed demeanor and pleased expression are a contrast to the smeared, tear-stained makeup on your face. He takes the consent to continue, leaving to stand behind you again.

Spreading his hands against your backside, he caresses your soft skin, groping at the plushest parts of your curves.

“Who knew a pretty thing like you’d get turned on when you’re scared…” His breath fans against your core, lapping once through your folds. You jolt with a whine, wrists weakly fighting against your cuffs. “Fuck, that’s good,” he hisses, delving back in while spreading your thighs apart. 

Gagged, you moan into the fabric, tongue catching your own essence.

“Imagine what your man would think, seein’ ya’ like this… just wait ‘til I really ruin ya’.” He slurps lewdly, groaning into your folds as he laps up the slick arousal. “You’re gettin’ married soon, huh? Ain’t gonna be one part of ya’ left that’s innocent when I’m through with ya’.” He slips a finger inside, right as you clench over his words with a high pitched whine. “Shit… you like that? Want me to ruin ya’?”

You hum a pathetic, weepy, “Mhm,” into the gag, nodding against the pillows. You’re floating, and you don’t ever want to come down.

“You need this, don’t you?” Another finger slides in, curling perfectly into that delicious spot that craves attention. “Ain’t enough t’get fucked, gotta be threatened and thrown around a bit…” He pumps his hand harder, tongue flitting out to your clit. Your toes curl and back arches as the bliss builds. 

Again, you agree with a shameful noise.

“Got a surprise for ya’, princess.” Mouth and touch disappearing, you let out a soft sob, wrists pathetically attempting to break free. He grabs your wrists, pinning them to your back roughly. “Stay still, don’t want ya’ gettin’ hurt… yet.”

That familiar sensation of cool metal against your body slips between your folds. It grazes your clit, hips twitching with the desire to roll. 

“Bet you ain’t been fucked with a gun before,” Gator’s voice is low, focused and gravelly as he nestles the barrel against your core, folds puffing out on each side as you drip down onto the weapon. “Bet it’s a real wet dream for ya’… but don’t worry, s’gonna be a reality soon.”

You stay still, painfully stiff while all kinds of desperate little sounds slip out of your gagged mouth. Breaths falling shallow, you feel the barrel slide down to your entrance, muzzle nudging against the hole’s edge.

Gator spits onto your entrance, teasingly inching the gun in; it’s smoother than you expected, easier to take than anticipated, too, with its slim build. It feels like the rifle, and your guess makes you lightheaded.

He pumps it slowly, reaching deeper inside you, observing your expression; you’re gone, maxed out in bliss as your eyes roll back and you tremble around the rifle. 

“I’d kill to see ya’ get spitroasted with a gun on each end…” He mutters, pumping the firearm a little faster. “Look at you… a fuckin’ wreck. Would it make ya’ cum, knowin’ I got my finger on the trigger?”

Crying out into your gag, you do exactly as he had hoped, convulsing around the barrel of the gun as the shock of your orgasm speeds through you. Even in role play, the perilous weight of his words bring you to the edge with ease.

Jesus fucking christ I’m fucked up.

Cursing under his breath, Gator is careful as he cautiously takes the replica out of you, allowing you to collapse onto your stomach as you catch your breath. Through bleary eyes, you watch as he comes closer, eye contact strong and stern as he licks the aftermath off the rifle.

“Fuck, tha’s’hot,” you rasp out. He chuckles, setting it aside while crouching back down to you. When he pulls the mask off, you frown. “We’re done?”

“Think so, Darlin’, you’re pretty spent.” Even Gator’s winded, but more-so emotional than physical. His cheeks are flushed red, lips glistening with your slick. He cradles your face in his hand, “Did so damn good for me.”

“You didn’t finish.” You hate that he went through all this trouble to please you, but he shrugs, smirking.

“I did once, but I didn’t need to, this was ‘bout you.” He stretches over your back, unlocking the cuffs, gently turning you onto your back. He brings your wrists up to his lips, kissing the tender skin. “Just takes more out of me than I expected.”

Your lips turn downward again, “I’m sorry, Gator. I didn’t mean to pressure you into all of this—“

“You kiddin’ me? That was so hot,” he breathily laughs. While stripping the rest of his clothes, he adds, “Just gonna take some gettin’ used to, but I liked it if you did.” He climbs into bed with you, embracing you flush against his figure. “We can play again sometime, if you want.”

“Yeah, s’long as we’re in the right headspace for it.” You nod giddily, but a smidge of shame works its way through your post-orgasm bliss. “You don’t think of me any differently, do you?”

Gator leans back, brows furrowed down at you. “What? Fuck no. Why? ‘Cause you liked this? No way.” Cupping your cheek again, you lean into his palm, warm and comforting. “I told ya’, I like exploring this shit with you, and this was somethin’ I always wanted you to be safe with.”

You kiss his cheek, “Thank you for trying new stuff with me, and keepin’ me safe. Although…” you cringe, “Even though I trust you, m’really glad we stuck to prop guns. I was fucking nuts for even thinkin’ I could handle the real thing.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, “So it didn’t ruin the scene?”

“Nope, felt it was easier to slip into subspace without that extra… stress.”

The two of you continue talking about the scene; the more you practice this part of aftercare, the easier it’s becoming to discuss your likes and dislikes with little to no shame. 

“We should probably clean ourselves up,” Gator groans, not ready to move. “Might have to skip goin’ out tonight.”

“S’okay, we can get one of those cheesy heart shaped pizzas,” you snuggle into his chest. “The place ‘round the corner does ‘em for the holiday.”

He snorts, “Nothing says romance like a pretend break-in and heart shaped pizza for date night.” You pinch his cheek and he swats your hand away. “Ow!”

“C’mon,” you pull him out of bed with you, joking, “let’s go wash the filth and shame away first.”

[katyawriteswhump]

love and other catastrophes at the omega cafe (3.2/8)

And here's 3.2, sorry about the little wait. The chapters are pretty long in this and today I needed bite-size chunks to cope!💚

Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega café, where he’s basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphas’ laps. It’s legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. He’s getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of ‘kitty’ petting, and shatters Steve’s fragile little world…

Rating: as flagged earlier, we're E now; No major warnings; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst, sexual content 💚 

Chapter 1 on tumblr Chapter 2 on tumblr Chapter 3.1 on tumblr On AO3

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Preview:

“Okay, Honey,” Eddie said, “as long as you understand nothing’s changed?” Steve resisted unleashing a disappointed squeal. He was sooooo mixed-up. “How about we start with your head in my lap? That sound good?” “Sure.” Steve ran shaky fingers across his lips. “Business as usual, huh?” Eddie helped Steve arrange himself flat on his back, legs stretched along the length of the couch. He rested his head on Eddie’s thighs, with one of the many cushions wedged between them. He relaxed almost instantly. He was facing straight up at Eddie, which was different and nice. Beyond nice. Eddie kicked off fiddling with the kitty ears, which amused and fascinated him. He twanged their band, then captured little strands of Steve’s hair from beneath it, tugging and tangling. Steve tingled everywhere Eddie deigned to touch. Especially his exposed belly, which Eddie soon blessed with some delicious, circular rubs.

Chapter 3.1 Chapter 3.2 below cut

The back of the café was a total dump, which was a problem for Steve.

Where the hell could you entertain a rockstar who doubtless lived in the lap of luxury? There was only the washroom, the corridor, a poky galley kitchen and…

Tommy’s office.

Tommy had inherited the café from his aunt. He wasn’t a terrible manager, leaving most of the day-to-day running to Carol. He kept himself occupied with other ‘business’ operations, which tended to crash and burn. His office was usually filled with boxes of whatever dubious stock he was trying to shift that month.

Speak of the devil—Tommy emerged from the office, wearing his usual badly fitting brown suit.

“Steve! My employee of the decade!” Tommy didn’t even sound that snarky. He grabbed Steve’s arm and tugged him inside. “Hope you like what we’ve done with the place.”

Steve blinked. “Um, yeah?”

“Yeah? Is that all you can say? Jesus, I spent all day getting this turd to shine.”

To be fair, the Beta had done a decent day’s work for once. His desk had been pushed against the breeze-block walls, which had been covered with deep-purple chiffon drapes. A comfy chaise-longue had been dragged in, almost lost beneath a slew of cushions, some of which looked nearly new. The floorboards were covered with a deep-shag rug, with a couple of dubious brown stains on it.

The icing on the backroom cup-cake was a cracked vase with fake daisies. And a paper lantern barely shading a super-bright and buzzing pre-LED bulb.

Steve wrinkled his nose, slightly bemused. He had never been in an actual brothel.

He was damn sure they looked exactly like this.

“Now, where did I put that kitty-tail butt-plug?” said Tommy, with a quizzical tap of his chin.

“What? No… Carol said…” Steve felt like the dirty rug had been yanked from under his feet. He’d never had anything up there, and he sure as heck wasn’t ready for it. Even for Eddie! “I didn’t agree… I don’t… I can’t…”

“Relax! I’m kidding.” Tommy clapped Steve on the shoulder. Steve managed to rein in his panic enough to scowl. “Look, you’re the boss here. As far as I’m concerned, same rules apply as always, although back here… Screw it, it’s up to you. That guy tries it on, you know how tuned in Chrissy and Carol are to your squeals. We’ll come running, I promise. Tho’…” He flashed a mega-watt grin. “We’re all keeping our fingers crossed for more tips in triple figures, huh?”

“Yeah? Maybe use it to buy a proper lampshade, you cheapskate. Oh, and a less skanky rug would be nice.”

Tommy hooted, swaying back onto his heels. “Watch it, Kitty-boy. Or I’ll send Carol in, claws out. She’s in a total pre-heat mood tonight—meeeeow!”

Once Tommy left, Steve got changed into his black velour hotpants and a proper tight, cropped tee that showed off a swathe of his lil’ flat tummy. He even purred slightly as he slid on his kitty-ear headband. It nestled so prettily in his hair. He quietly knew he rocked that look better than anyone, even Chrissy.

He then buckled on a purple collar with delicate silver kitty-shape studs.

No jingly bell.

They were okay in a noisy café. Back here, it’d sound absurd. He had a stuffed cat tail to affix to the back of his shorts. He put that aside too. He way preferred the little cottontails they wore on monthly bunny nights. Finally, he went light on the make-up—no kitty nose, just his usual brown mascara and eyeliner and a few wispy whiskers sketched with the same.

At five to seven, when Eddie was due, Steve perched on the chaise-longue. He found himself rubbing his bare tummy, trying to breathe slowly and calm himself.

It didn’t work. He began to feel slightly sick.

The clock ticked toward ten past seven.

Maybe Eddie wasn’t coming? A lump lodged in his throat, which he struggled to swallow.

At quarter past, he heard voices in the corridor. Tommy… and Eddie! Steve flung himself back against the couch, one arm thrown above his head. The other gravitated to his upper inner thigh, where he lightly stroked the downy hair.

The door opened. Eddie absorbed the sight of Steve and stopped dead.

“Damn, look at you.” Eddie sounded oddly wistful. “You’re a bit too fucking much, Stevie.”

Right then, everything felt too much. Steve hardly knew what he was doing, striking some slutty pose. He lapped up the sight of Eddie—no hat, scarf, or shades hiding those to-die-for eyes.

And his scent.

OMFG.

If Tommy had pumped much chemically crap in here, Hurricane Eddie swept all aside. Smoky, plummy yumminess swirled into Steve’s mouth, his nose. For the first time, he also caught hints of dark chocolate. He wanted to chew on it like a kitty with a cat-nip cushion.

All this passed in a twitch of an eyelash.

Then Steve said, slightly wobbly, “Hey there. Looking pretty awesome yourself.”

Eddie beamed, closed the door. He cast off a leather jacket, plastered with dozens of stitched patches, and closed the gap between them with two long strides. He sat down beside Steve, who sprung up keenly allowing Eddie to envelop him. Steve buried his face beneath Eddie’s collarbone. He inhaled long and deep, desperately resisting the urge to slide his nose up to Eddie’s scent gland and drown in it. His chest firmed against Eddie’s, and his knee crawled into Eddie’s lap already.

Eddie drew back, tenderly cupping Steve’s jaw. “You okay there, Stevie? You’re trembling.” His face clouded and he puffed through his nostrils. “Did that asshat manager ask you to do anything you didn’t want? If he did—"

“No!” It was the truth, tho’ the butt-plug gag hadn’t exactly helped his nerves. Yeah, right, Harrington. Or did you hate the idea only because, like the normal kitty-tail, it’d spoil the view of your ass? “Really, I’m fine.”

“Okay, Honey,” Eddie said, “as long as you understand nothing’s changed?” Steve resisted unleashing a disappointed squeal. He was sooooo mixed-up. “How about we start with your head in my lap? That sound good?”

“Sure.” Steve ran shaky fingers across his lips. “Business as usual, huh?”

Eddie helped Steve arrange himself flat on his back, legs stretched along the length of the couch. He rested his head on Eddie’s thighs, with one of the many cushions wedged between them. He relaxed almost instantly. He was facing straight up at Eddie, which was different and nice.

Beyond nice.

He lapped up Eddie’s hilariously dorky grins, and those dimples. Just as intoxicating, he absorbed Eddie’s bare arms for the first time, the long rope-like muscles patterned with gracefully flowing tattoos. There were bats and crazy puppets and laughing skulls. They ought to scare Steve shitless. Instead, he repressed a strong urge to lick them.

Eddie kicked off fiddling with the kitty ears, which amused and fascinated him. He twanged their band, then captured little strands of Steve’s hair from beneath it, tugging and tangling. Steve tingled everywhere Eddie deigned to touch.

Especially his exposed belly, which Eddie soon blessed with some delicious, circular rubs.

He didn’t even have to worry about sparkling conversation, something that’d played on his mind. Eddie chatted excitedly about his afternoon in the studio:

“I got my mojo back, Stevie.” Eddie tickled a finger under Steve’s chin, setting Steve giggling between mad purrs. “I got a demo with me. You wanna hear?”

Steve’s purrs jammed up in surprise. “Yeah! Totally.”

“Only if you’re sure? Honestly, I remember what you said about music being overwhelming and all—”

“No, no, no, no, no. Honestly, I’m cool.”

I’ll never flip out with you to hold my hand, Alpha.

Steve’s right mind was literally face-palming, Seriously, Harrington?  However, the majority of his brain cells screamed, Lalala not listening!

He settled sidelong in Eddie’s lap, with Eddie’s earbuds nestled in his non-kitty ears. Eddie hooked an arm around Steve’s shoulders. His finger hovered over ‘play’ on his phone. “Ready, Steve?”

Steve quirked a smile, nodded.

A thudding base-beat started up, joined by howling guitars. The volume wasn’t too high. It still shook Steve to his core. He huddled tighter into Eddie, fingers twisting in the front of Eddie’s vest. Then he dared peep up, eyes stretching wide.

“Okay?” mouthed Eddie.

Steve nodded. An ape-wire electro-synth noise joined the fray. Then, flying above it all, somebody started to sing. Eddie started to sing:

Mate me in blood

Set a fire in my bones

My brain is your creature

Your death knell rings home…

Steve couldn’t make sense of this shit. But when Eddie screamed the word ‘home,’ it struck him hard and deep.

His brow flopped heavily against Eddie’s neck. Unsurprisingly, he could smell Eddie—a powerful red wine flavor, now with a metallic hint. Like it was blended with blood. He could smell himself too. Their mingled scents rose and clouded the room. The music was killing him and he was dying happy…

Eddie shut off the song. “Shit, sorry. You okay?”

Steve jerked his chin up, lip hitching in a snarl. Simultaneously, he clawed at Eddie’s vest like a wild thing.

“Please, Alpha! I need it… I need you… More music… MORE!”

A wave of slick gushed from Steve. He was gonna roll over and present himself, then a desire for friction consumed him. He ripped the protective cushion from Eddie’s thighs.

Seconds later, he was humping himself crazily into the stunned-looking Alpha’s lap.

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

I will try to to get chapter 4 up Wed/Thurs this week, so not to leave poor horny Steve in limbo too long! 💚🐈‍⬛💚 Thank you so very much for reading. If you enjoyed, every little like and reblog or comment means a lot to me so thank you💚

Other ramblings 💚🐈‍⬛💚 I used the idea of A!Eddie’s voice getting O!Steve all worked up in a recent fic, and here it is again, because I liked the idea, whoops… Okay, and another a little change… I was going to write this all Steve POV, then Ohemgeee (thank you!) suggested in a comment that Eddie’s POV might add something in terms of mutual longing and I thought about it and yeah, it would. We will probably be getting a close-up of Eddie’s thoughts in chapters 5 and 6… 

I am always happy to tag, pls let me know, or you can follow the tag #steddie omega cat cafe 💚

tags 💚🐈‍⬛💚 @disrespectedgoatman 💚 @bumblebeecuttlefishes

@katethetank 💚 @themoonagainstmers 💚 @chaotic-waffle 💚

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

[batmanlovesme]

Valentine’s Day Letter

Batman,

I miss you.

It's the day of love. I love you. And I know you do, deep down, love me too. After all, we've already had so many dates, haven’t we? All those beautiful, twisted moments in the dark, just you and me. You don't really want anyone else around, do you? No one gets us like we do. Do you feel it, Bats? The pull? The longing? I know you do. This is our time.

Now here I am, under lock and key, oh so far from you. I’ve been here, waiting. Every hour, every minute, every second a tortuous reminder that you haven’t shown up yet, my dark knight.

I’ve got a whole list about all the things we could do together. A long list. But none of it’s going to happen unless you show up. We could talk, we could play, we could have a laugh! Just you and me. ♡

Always playing hard to get, aren’t you? I know you, Batman. I know you want to see me. You want to hear my voice, to look at me. I want that too. You and me, locked away together.

Be my Valentine, my forever Valentine.

Just come and sit with me. Talk about the old days. Let’s remind each other of all the fun we’ve had, all the beautiful memories we’ve created. I know you’re busy. Gotham, playing the hero... But who really needs all that? Forget about the rest of them. I’m all you need!!

It’s Valentine’s Day. Don’t make me wait forever. Just a little visit. I’ve been extra good. I’ve even prepared a special little treat just for you.

You know how impatient I get. You know I’ll do anything to get your attention. Anything.

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU

I miss you.

Yours forever and always, Joker

[c-duceusclay]

Deanna and Fearne running into this shop and immediately pulling out the “Karen” routine is so fucking funny

[happyheidi]

[ender1821]

so. uh. Wild Life finale huh

[simplyghosting]

Sister @ brother: You haven’t picked a song in 2 minutes. You’re losing AUX cord privileges.

Brother: No! No! I’m picking something!

Me: If you don’t pick something, I’m playing opera.

Sister, shouting at brother: HURRY UP AND PICK!

[unreadpoppy]

Me and the bitch who’s gonna give me a heart attack any day know if she keeps going to the vet

[the-casbah-way]

the epitome of the corporate attitude is “we have a new policy in place that is ten times less effective and more expensive than the old one but it looks nicer so you’re welcome”

[surfedoutbrainwaves]

lupe (best friend’s car) has died and all the earth’s creatures (me and my two besties) mourn

[godblooded]

incompetency at the treatment center. as fucking per.