#I even baked a cake with a friend and they were so sweet

[kyouka-supremacy]

Today was a good day :)

[lilgynt]

okay maybe life ISNT just suffering my birthday isn’t cursed

[eddiesxangel]

Show Me | Older!Eddie x F!Virgin Reader

Anonymous asked: I loved your post about Eddie x virgin!reader so much💞Do you think you could write older!Eddie x virgin reader?

Anonymous asked: Inexperienced!reader giving Eddie a handjob and a blowjob for the first time?

Cw: ten-year age gap, sex toys, female masturbation, the reader is kinda a perv (oops), Eddie is also kinda a perv (oops), reader first time giving oral, reader first time having sex, pet names.

CW: 7.1k It's long again, I'm sorry! idk how to do short

Moving trucks have been parked in your neighbour's driveway for about two days. You had always liked the Kaminskys, but they were older and now moving to a retirement community. This is the second day of moving trucks, and the new owners are moving in today. You have yet to receive much information from the realtor regarding the new neighbours, but you hope they'll be pleasant. You had already baked something to welcome them to the neighbourhood, in hopes that it could be a younger family or couple. Perhaps someone closer to your age?

You moved to this town around three years back when you received your first job offer after completing your college degree. You had saved up enough money to buy a one-bedroom house for a very affordable price. Although it required some repairs, you were happy with it because it allowed you to decorate it according to your liking. You loved the neighbourhood even if you were the only twenty-five-year-old on the block.

As you looked out from behind your front rooms curtains, you could see the movers unloading a big moving truck. There was one person among them who really caught your attention. You had never seen him before. It was a small town and you lived in a quiet suburb by the water in the south of Michigan. Everyone knew everyone, and you hadn’t seen this man before.

He appeared to be in his mind to late 30s and had a muscular build. His brown wavy hair was tied back in a low bun that connected with the five o clock shadow in his face. He was wearing a tight black ribbed tank top that showcased the tattoos covering both his arms and hands. He was hot... Way too hot not to have not ever been seen or talked about in your small lakefront town. Upon further observation, it became apparent that he was not wearing the attire of a mover.

Oh my god. He must be the new neighbour.

“Please be single, please be single, please be single,” you chanted as you hastily went to your closet in search of an outfit that looked cute so that you could introduce yourself.

You took your time getting ready; he obviously needed time to unload, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him…. And whoever else might be moving in.

God, you hoped he didn’t have a wife or whatever.

You shook your head to get rid of your rambling internal thoughts. You took a deep breath and told yourself to chill the fuck out. You could do this. You’ll go over in your sweet little sundress, introduce yourself, and offer him the chocolate cake you baked…

You weren't as excited as you were last night while baking it, now you were just nervous. You imagined a sweet family moving in with a newborn - a couple your age with whom you could become really close friends. But now, you are faced with a hot and sexy bad boy neighbour who may or may not have a wife and kids. Maybe he wasn’t into women at all?! That would suck. This situation is making you feel extremely anxious and overwhelmed due to your lack of interactions with the opposite sex.

To say you haven’t had a lot of experience was an understatement. You went through high school without a boyfriend. You went through college without a boyfriend. You weren’t into drunken hookups with random strangers for your first sexual experience. You went on many first dates, but nothing ever came of those many first dates. So you waited. And waited.

You thought that maybe you would meet somebody through work and then it would happen, but you’ve been so caught up with working and renovating your house your social life has taken a step back.

Of course, you wanted to find someone. To finally be with someone in a sexual way. To give yourself wholly to someone. Nothing ever went past kissing and or being felt up. But that was the extent of your sexual experience with another person.

Your sexual experience with yourself, on the other hand, was pretty standard. You've got your toys to get by. The first time you gave yourself a real orgasm from the vibrator you bought, it changed your world. Slowly, you worked your way up to toys you could insert once you got a little braver. So technically, yes, you hadn't slept with another person, but now you were more than ready to explore and get out there. You wanted that connection with someone.

So, about half an hour after the moving truck left, you worked up the courage to walk over and knock on the front door. You gave yourself a once-over before leaving. You wore a white sundress with tiny red cherries that fell mid-thigh, your hair was pulled back with a matching red hairband, and you had a fresh, subtle makeup look.

With a deep breath, you held that cake with all your might to ensure you didn't drop it and you simply knocked on the door.

"Just a second," You heard a deep voice call out. A few long seconds later, the door opens, and you're face to face with a wet, shirtless man in just a towel. As you suspected, it was the man you saw unloading the boxes.Fucking hell, He was attractive, with a toned body covered in tattoos. Your gaze drifted to his towel hanging low on his hips. -"Oh shit, sorry, let me just uh- I'll be right back," He sputtered as he realized he was basically naked in front of a young woman, most likely his neighbour.

"Sorry, I can come back later!" to try to fight off the blood rushing to your face.

"No- no, just, uh-hang on!' You hear him yell from inside the house. He came back out wearing black sweatpants which he had cut himself to make into shorts and a plain black tee shirt.

"Hi." He smiles as he walks back onto the front porch where you stood.

"Hi, I'm sorry. I should have waited a little longer to come introduce myself." You laugh uncomfortably.

"Nah, it's okay; not every day I'm greeted by a pretty girl with a cake." He smirks.

"What? Oh yea, I uh- just wanted to welcome you and uh your...wife?"

He shakes his head no.

"Your partner?"

Another no.

"Kid?" you try one last time. And he smiles with a chuckle.

"Anyway, I baked a cake just to say welcome." You shoved the plate into his chest, almost smushing it into his shirt.

"Thank you, that's very kind."

"You're welcome. So, um, I guess I'll get going; leave you to it." You turn to walk down the steps.

"Wait! What's your name?" you wince. You're so nervous you didn't even introduce yourself.

"I'm sorry." You giggled uncomfortably.

"I'm Eddie Munson," he smiled. His smile was infectious; you smiled back and gave him your name.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Um- thanks." You shy into yourself.

"So you said you live next door?"

"Yeah, uh, I'm just over at forty-four." You motion over your shoulder to your house.

"You live there with your folks?" He cocks his head.

"No, Mr. Munson. It's all mine, mine alone." You giggle.

"You don't look old enough," he squints suspiciously.

"I would like to have you know I am twenty-five." You say proudly.

"Oh well, pardon me." He smiled. This made Eddie feel much better about being so attracted to you. God forbid you were still living at home with your parents. He would feel like a total creep.

"Anyways, I uh should get going," you point over your shoulder.

"Oh, ok, well, um, once I'm done setting up, please stop by whenever. I could use a familiar face around... being new to town and all."

"Sure thing, it was nice meeting you. Mr. Munson." you smile.

"Please call me Eddie!" He called as you walked back over to your house,

"Enjoy the cake!" You give a small wave.

"Oh, I will." Before you turn back, you watch as he takes a finger, dips it in the icing, and puts it in his mouth without breaking eye contact... you hadn't witnessed anything so sensual. You almost trip over your sandals as you scurry back into your house.

All of your interactions with Eddie over the next week were flirtatious. He managed to make your heart beat faster than any man had before.

After a week and a half, Eddie finally organized the house. His furniture was set up, and most of the moving boxes had been emptied. He would see you when you came home from work in the evenings as he sat on his porch with a cigarette.

"Hey, Eddie," You would blush,

"Hey, sweetheart" He would smile back without fail.

If anyone else were to call you that, you'd want to clock them; however, coming out of Eddie's mouth? Somehow, it made you swoon.

"Hey, um, you don't have to, but would you want to join me for dinner? Tonight? I am sure you're exhausted from unpacking, and I'm a pretty good cook... unless you hated my cake so feel free to say no.-" You rambled on.

"I'd love to join you for dinner. That's very sweet of you to offer." This was so new for Eddie. Neighbours being neighbourly. He was always the outcast in his town growing up. Now, at thirty-five, he is finally saved up enough to get out of town, start fresh, and open his own autobody shop. Have an actual house of his own, not that he wasn't grateful for his uncle and the trailer park.

Here, he could be anyone he wanted to be. He met some of the townspeople, and they seemed nice enough when he told them he would be taking over for Mr. Sanders's mechanic shop.

"Okay, great! I'm just going to get changed, I'll leave the door open; feel free to come in and make yourself at home whenever you're ready." You motioned to him and his cigarette."

"Thanks, Sunshine." He smiled that smile you couldn't overcome, and you rushed inside to find a n outfit that didn’t scream ‘I work for corporate America.’

You made your way up to your loft, which doubled as your bedroom that overlooked the living area and kitchen. You were in the middle of stripping when you heard the front door open; only then did you realize that when you told him to make himself at home, you had forgotten the minor detail that he would be able to see you changing. You scurried into your walk-in closet with a squeak so he wouldn't have dinner and a show.

"Sunshine?" He asked, walking into your home.

"I'll be down in a minute!" You yell as you scramble to find your jean shorts.

"Take your time." He walks around your home, observing your picture gallery.

"Help yourself to a beer or whatever you want in the fridge."

"Thanks."

As you walk back down your stairs, you see Eddie sitting on your couch, beer in hand. Man-spread with an arm around the top of the sofa. You wished you could be by his side, arm around you instead.

"Good, you made yourself at home."

"Well, Sweets, I am a good listener." He tilted his head back, taking a swig from the bottle. You watched his Adam's apple bob in his long throat, and you thought about what it would feel like to kiss it.

"Any dietary restrictions?" You ask, shaking yourself from your dirty thoughts.

"Nah..." He shakes his head. "So, how did you swing a place like this at your age?"

It felt like a dig; maybe he just saw you as a kid... you would change his mind on that.

"Um, well, I got it on foreclosure; you should have seen it; it was a mess, and everyone wanted to tear it down, but I had a vision. It took a few years, but it's finally finished. I had some help from my grandmother's inheritance, but it wasn't much. So I worked my ass off, and here we are" you spoke as you got together the pots and ingredients.

"Looks like you're doing well for yourself" He smiled as he watched you bend over, unintentionally showing off your cute plump ass.

"Yeah, I guess. So what do you do?" you turn and catch him staring at your behind.

"Well, I just bought the auto shop off Mr. Sander's, so if you're ever in any car trouble, I'm your guy." He smiles.

"Good to know; I know nothing when it comes to my Ruby."

"Ruby?"

"Yeah, my car, she's red, so I named her Ruby."

"That's cute; it suits you."

You don't say much after you start cooking; you are in the zone, ensuring everything is perfect.

"So, what's a girl like you do around here for fun?"

"A girl like me?"

"Yeah, young, beautiful." He takes a bite like what he said was obvious.

"Umm well... work mostly. We have block parties, it is all families around here; my friends all live in the city." You take a sip of beer to settle your nerves.

"This is really good." He motions to the plate of food in front of him.

"You know what? We are having our town's Fourth of July party on Saturday. Everyone goes, you should come! I can show you around more, introduce you to more people, and you can spread the word about your new business opening up next week."

"Yeah, I'd really like that."

After Eddie had thanked you for the meal, he stayed a few more hours; you enjoyed his company. He respectfully kissed you on the cheek goodnight, and you made your way straight up to your room with your toys because you couldn't stand it any longer.

Eddie made you feel like your body was on fire. When he would lightly graze his fingertips along your bare arm or when he would compliment you. His voice alone made your lower tummy tingle.

You pulled out your trusty rabbit that never failed you. You felt dirty, but Eddie had you so worked up you needed relief.

As you lay on your bed, you strip yourself down to nothing. You think about how Eddie’s big, strong hands would tease your body. Working yourself up in your mind. You got wetter by the second.

You imagined how his voice would sound as you imagined the filthy words that would come out of that perfectly plump mouth. That mouth you wanted all over your body.

You imagined, pictured, and played a movie of Eddie and you in your head until you got so worked up that you couldn’t take it anymore. Your clit was screaming at you to be touched. You turned on the toy, it came to life, and your body quivered with anticipation. Your body sprang to life as you slowly worked the toy around your wet hole and then plunged in the dildo. You went deeper and deeper until the little vibrator at the top of the toy hit your clit.

Your body arched up as you felt the waves of pleasure wash through your veins. You pumped the toy in and out of your wet pussy, thinking about your older neighbour. How hot he looked in nothing but that towel when you first met. How your pussy clenched at the sight of his happy trail. How his muscles formed a V travelling right to where you wanted most. You could see his bulge under the white fluffy bath towel wrapped around his waist. You thought about how good his flesh would feel against yours as he pumped his cock inside of you like how you were with your toy.

“Oh, Eddie!” You moaned, forgetting your window was open for the summer breeze you loved to feel in the night.

Your free hand travels to your breast; you tweak your sensitive nipple and moan out again. Your white transparent curtains fluttered with the wind, but you were too wrapped up in your fantasy to notice.

When Eddie got home he went straight into his new bedroom and opened his window because the evening breeze was blowing. He then got ready for bed and was reading when he heard his name. His head shot up, thinking he was hearing things. Then, he listened to another sultry moan. He took off his reading glasses and got up to investigate. His eyes shot wide open as he saw your silhouette through your curtains. He saw your the outline of your body, how your hand worked where he wanted to put his cock the most.

It was wrong, it was so wrong, but now Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of the image in front of him. He tried walking away, and he almost did, but when he heard your sweet voice moan his name again, his feet were planted on the ground. This only confirmed that you were as attracted to him as he was to you. He had thought so tonight at dinner but now he would dare to go for it. Ask you out for real.

Your body felt like it was on fire the way the toy vibrated throughout your body. The pressure kept building and building until you were on the brink. Your body seized as your pussy clamped down on the dildo inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the waves of pleasure washed over your entirety. You caught your breath and knew that Eddie was the one you wanted to be with. He was the one; if he could make you feel this good in your fantasies, you can only imagine how it would be for real.

Eddie was nervous, even though you had confirmed, unintentionally, that you were attracted to him; it had been a while since he asked out about a girl he liked, especially when he was about to ask out one who was ten years younger.

Saturday couldn't come soon enough. You had asked Eddie as a friend, but Eddie would treat it as a date, and he would make sure you knew it was a date. You were excited to spend time with Eddie again after your dinner. It had only been four days, but the anticipation was creeping in. You were so surprised when he showed up at your door with flowers.

"Eddie, you didn't have to do this, but thank you!" you smiled as you sniffed the daisies.

"Of course I did; what kind of date would I be if I showed up empty-handed?" He smirked as he stepped into your house as you went to get a vase for your flowers.

“A date, huh?” You smirked over your shoulder.

“Yes. A date”

“Okay,” you smile as you take his hand in yours and lock up your house.

Eddie was smitten; he had you on his arm, and he felt like the king of the world. You were also smitten. Finally, you were on a date with someone who you were very interested in.

Eddie was funny and charming, and you found out he was really nerdy, but it was only much more endearing. You learned how he played guitar and was in a high school garage band that landed a few gigs at the local bar. The more you got to know him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you as the night went on, and you enjoyed it. When he wasn't holding your hand, he was holding your waist; if he wasn't holding your waist, his arm was draped over your shoulder.

When the fireworks started, you gazed up at the sky together, wrapped up in one another warmth as the cool breeze of the lake came through. Halfway through the show, he went to kiss the top of your head but you had moved to look up at him, and you caught his lips with yours. Just like the fireworks in the sky, there were fireworks between the both of you. When you both pulled back, you could see in his eyes that he felt it, too.

You finished off the night hand in hand as he walked you home. He kissed you good night like a perfect gentleman, and you bid one another a goodnight.

You were so giddy and excited about Eddie. The more you went out, the more time you wanted to spend with him. You were finishing your third official date when you asked him to join you inside your place for a nightcap.

Things moved quickly once you settled inside. Your drinks were hardly touched. Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you.m as you made out like a couple of horny teenagers in the couch.

Your mind was racing. Why hadn’t you told him you’re a virgin? You invited him in. He’s probably expecting sex… oh god, what if he’s turned off by the fact that you’re not experienced?

“We can slow down if you want.” he pulled away; he had sensed something was off. You became stiff and seemed like you weren't into the makeout anymore.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit nervous… I’m -uh just out of practice…” you shied.

“That’s okay we can take it slow.” He stroked your cheek.

“Are you sure?” You twiddled with his fingers that are resting on your thigh.

“Of course. We can go at your speed.”

“I need to tell you something.” You looked down at the floor. He nodded his head but then spoke because you weren’t looking at him.

“I’ve never… I uh. Shit. I’ve never been with anyone before.”

“What?” Eddie was dumbfounded. How? There was no way he heard you correctly.

“I’m a virgin.” You pull away, but Eddie reaches for you.

“oh wow. I wasn't expecting that... uh- but that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” he comforts you.

“But I do want to,” you rush out. “It’s not like I’m waiting for marriage; it just hasn’t happened…”

“We will go at your pace” Eddie smiled.

“Thank you”

You shift closer to him, wanting to kiss him again, especially after being so cool with everything.

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he was hesitant.

“You sure, sunshine?”

“Yea” you sigh into his mouth.

Eddie grabs the back of your head so he can pull you in closer.

Your hand rested on his knee. As you continued to kiss him your hand bravely traveled up his thigh.

“Woah, hold on, sunshine.” He rested his hand on yours to stop moving.

Oh my gosh, this is it. He had come to his senses. He’s rejecting you.

"You sure you want to go there? Because if we keep going, I will want to do things to you, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you're not ready."

"I promise. I've waited so long for the right guy, and I'm ready, trust me." If he only knew about your little collection of toys upstairs.

"We don't have to go all the way tonight okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You nodded your head with anticipation. Okay, this was good. He accepted you, and he still wanted to fool around.

You returned to making out on your couch, and the heavy petting ensued. This time, Eddie didn't stop your advances as your hand travelled up his thigh to the crease of his leg and up his crotch. Your hand felt around his bulge through his jeans. There was no denying that he was turned on. The way his cock strained against the thick black fabric should have been illegal. It must have been uncomfortable for him. You just had to let it spring free.

You shifted your weight forward to get closer to him. To feel him. His thighs were thick and defined. You could also feel how hard they were. Your mind wandered to how they would feel to sit on.

Before you knew it, your body was moving before your brain could catch up. One leg draped over his, and you were mounted on Eddie's leg. His deliciously thick leg. You just did what felt right; as you sat down on Eddie, the pressure situated onto your pussy felt so delicious. Your hips started rocking back and forth, building up a rhythm.

You heard and felt Eddie moan in your mouth, and this only enticed you on to keep going, your body driven by pleasure.

"That feel good, baby?" He cooed in your ear before he started kissing down your neck.

"Mmmmhmmm." You nodded frantically, eyes shut, not daring to look at him.

"Good girl, keep going." You felt his big hands grip the top of your ass as he helped you rock your hips against his jeans. The pressure in your lower stomach was building and building; you could feel your orgasm as close.

“Fuck that’s it, use me”

Fuck, you haven't gotten off by dry-humping something in years. Not since you found your first vibrator.

"You close, baby girl?" He whispered against your lips as you kept kissing him. A muffled yes was said, and before you could continue to speak, waves of pleasure washed over your whole body. It stared from your clit and radiated up like it travelled through your bloodstream straight to your head.

Your movements slowed, and you managed to catch your breath; Eddie was still hard as a rock under his jeans, and there was no way you weren't going to help out with that.

You mimicked the way Eddie kissed your neck on Eddie. Your tongue moved the way he moved on your neck. Your hands worked in tandem with your mouth. Your fingers worked to open his jeans as you kept kissing on sucking on Eddie's long tattooed neck.

"You don't have to, Sugar," he panted, but you could hear in his tone that he was excited. He wanted this as much as you did... maybe even more.

"But I want to, Eddie." You batted your eyelashes, and you pulled away to let him see your playful pout.

You've watched enough porn and heard enough of your friend's stories to know what you're doing. Sure, the first and only time you saw a dick in real life was in your third year at uni when you tried to go down on the guy you were out with but then got scared, and he walked you home... but you got this! You're an adult woman who knows what she wants, and what she wants is right at her fingertips.

Your little pep talk in your head must have been evident on your face because Eddie started speaking again.

"You done this before?" He asks gently, not judgingly. You shake your head slightly in return.

"You want me to guide you?"

You nodded your head yes. You wanted to be good and do it right.

"Kay," He smiled.

Eddie told you how to work your hands slowly, teasingly at first, not too much but not too little. And no sudden sharp yanking movements at first... You listened, and when you were ready, you moved his boxers down, and his cock was released. It was so big, so much bigger than you thought it would be. The one you saw was a least half the size of Eddie's.

"Oh my god," You gasped.

"It's okay, sugar; he won't bite." Eddie kissed you to make you feel more comfortable. Your hand travelled back to his cock so you could grip it in your hand, not too hard, but not too gently like Eddie had said. The tip produced a bead of precum that was already leaking out, which was a good sign. Your fingers brushed over the head, and Eddie sucked in a breath.

"Did I hurt you?" you dropped his cock from your release.

"No, quite the opposite, baby."

"Oh," you giggled. You picked up where you left off, stroking his cock in your grip, teasing it and feeling it. You were surprised by how velvety the skin felt.

As you continued to make up with Eddie, cock in hand. You suddenly felt braver, and the need to have him in your mouth grew stronger. You slinked your way off the couch so you were sat in front of him on your knees, eyes and mouth level with his behemoth that he calls his cock.

“You sure, little one?" He asked, and you nodded your head with a smile. You moved before your surge of confidence broke.

You sat up a little more and moved his cock towards you, and tentatively licked the tip. You continued your kitten licks a few more times before enveloping his tip in your warm, wet mouth. You peered up at Eddie through your long lashes; he looked like he was enjoying himself, so you must have been doing something right? You swirled your tongue along the tip before dipping you're head down lower to take more of him. Eddie let out a moan, and this made you smile. Yes, you were doing something right. So you continued, lower and lower.

You'd be lying if you didn't say you've tested your gag reflex on one of the dildos you own; where is the fun in that? But now that it was a real mans cock in your mouth, you understood the hype about giving head. You genuinely liked it so far, but that's probably due to Eddie and how comfortable he makes you feel.

"You sure you've never done this before?" He managed to get out.

"uhhhhuuhhhhhh" You moned against his cock and that only jerked Eddie's hip up into you.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that just felt really good, baby" He stroked your head before gripping the back of your hair like he was resisting to push you further down.

"Fuck baby, you're way too good at this to be a virgin."

"You calling me a Liar, Mr. Munson?" You popped off his cock and started jerking him off with your hand again.

"No, no, baby, shit, I mean, ohhh, fuck you're very good for this being your first time."

"Thank you" You put the tip back in your mouth as you sucked on it, but your hands continued to work the shaft.

Eddie didn't last much longer; he told you to take your mouth off but continue with your hands, not wanting to ruin his chance of being with you again if you tasted cum for the first time and you were disgusted. So you listened, wanting to please him; you watched as the white liquid spurted from his shaft and ran down your hands. It was warm and all you could picture was what it would look like leaking out of your pussy.

"Let me get you a towel" You got up when his cock finally stopped spazming.

You walked back over with a warm wet dishtowel, but not before you took his softening cock in your mouth to wipe up the access.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie wasn't expecting that. It was like he had awoken something inside you.

"I wanted to know what you tasted like," you surged before you handed him the towel.

"You, little minx, are going to be the death of me."

Eddie and you had been going out for two months since he moved in, and it had been a week since you gave Eddie your first blow job. It's been on your mind for the majority of the week. So when he asked you out again on a fourth date, you were very excited to see how that one would end. What more would the two of you explore?

Eddie cooked for you; he had a nice romantic dinner in his kitchen. His place was finally fully unpacked, and he gave you a grand official tour of his house afterward.

"You going to show me your bedroom?" You teased.

"You would love that, wouldn't you?" He teased back.

You headed up to his room. You walk inside, and it's pretty spacious; he has a small window off to the side that looks into your house. You stroll around the beige-carpeted floors to see if your suspicions are correct. He does, in fact, have a direct view of your bedroom.

"Ever spy on me, Mr. Munson?"

"mmmmm once or twice." He chuckles as his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body.

"Really?" You got a bit nervous; what had he seen?

"Well, a man can't help his curiosity when he hears a sweet voice moaning his name in the middle of the night."

This makes you gasp. He had to be joking! But then again, your windows are close together, and you love leaving them open...

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He turned you to face him, but you buried yourself into his chest, too embarrassed to look at him. "It's flattering.”

"Eddie" you moaned into his chest."

"I'm serious, knowing you want an old guy like me?"

"You're not even that old," you mumbled.

"Please look at me, Sunshine." He tilted your head up so he could gaze into your eyes. You tried to fight it, but you ultimately gave in.

"I'm embarrassed," You pout.

"Don't be; you don't even need to be embarrassed about your fantasies with me. Understood?"

"Okay." You shy away meekly.

“You want to tell me your fantasies? What you were thinking about when you touched yourself all alone in that bed of yours?”

“I-i-want…“

“It’s okay. I know you’re nervous, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

You paused, took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“I want to be taken care of,” you whispered.

“And”

“I want you to be the one to do it…”

"We can definitely arrange that," he said before taking your lips. His tongue parted your lips, making its way into your mouth. He was an excellent kisser. You were getting wet just by his kisses alone.

Eddie backs you up and leads you toward the king-size bed. Your knees give out when they hit the soft mattress, and you fall back, dragging Eddie down with you.

"You gonna let me take care of you, baby?"

"Please?"

"That's my girl." He smiled into the kiss before getting up so you could shimmy back onto the bed so you could rest on the pillows.

Eddie's mouth found yours again as his hands travelled up your body, feeling every inch of your skin. You felt like your body was on fire; the heat radiating between the two of you was evident.

"Can I take this off?" He played with the hem of your sundress.

"You can do whatever you want"

"That's a big promise, little one, gotta be careful with making promises like that." he cocks his head.

"I just want you." You go to take off your dress, but Eddie stops you so he can do it himself. You came prepared; you wore the nicest bra and panty set you owned. A pink lace and satin set. It made your boobs look out of this world the way the fabric cupped you just right. Accentuating every curve.

"All this f'me?"

You didn't answer. You just needed to kiss him again; your bodies melded together as he pressed you further into the mattress. His hands cupped your breasts, moulding and kneading them, and your sensitive nipples began to perk up at his rough touch.

"You're perfect," Eddie sighed as his mouth detached from yours and moved down to your neck. Your body tingled as his soft lips explored the exposed skin.

"Eddie," you moaned out in pleasure. Your hips started to grind up onto Eddie's calf, and he knew he had you right where he wanted.

His hands moved lower, cupping your lace covered heat. His fingers felt so good above the lace that separated the two of you; you couldn't wait to see what they felt like skin to skin.

"You mind if I?"

"Yes!" you said, a little too excited. But Eddie didn't mind. He thought it was so cute the way you were eager to let him explore your body.

"You know how often I've pictured you on this bed?" You shake your head, not biting your lip.

"Oh well, I would picture you like this... no, wait. There would be much less clothing." He wraps his arms around his body to take off his shirt, and he throws it across the room; next to go were his pants. You giggled at his antics. "Much better."

You could feel his cock press against your stomach as he pounced back down onto you. He continued where he had left off, his hand exploring your clothed cunt again, circling your clit above your panties, making you let out a sweet moan. He moved his hands further up until he made his way underneath your panties.

Your hips automatically moved as Eddie's hands explored your wet folds. His free hand pressed your hip, silently telling you not to move, that he will do this for you. You no longer had to be the only one to make yourself feel good. He was here to take care of you.

His thick finger slipped past your folds and up into your tight cunt.

"Oh!" You called out as his fingers broke past the barrier. They were much bigger than you're used to; your hands could never do the same as he was doing now.

"You're ok, baby," he cooed. He worked his hands inside of you, hitting a spot you'd never located before. That made your mind go numb and all fuzzy.

Eddie pulled out of you, and you whimpered in protest but quickly understood he was only taking off your panties for you. You lifted your legs, you helped him out, and he kissed down your leg until he reached your centre.

"May I?" He asked.

"Yes." You sigh.

Eddie waisted not a moment longer. His lips attached themselves to your lower ones. You’d never felt anything like it. The way his soft mouth moved around your clit, kissing and sucking on your swollen bud. You thought I couldn’t get any better than this. Until his tongue made its way onto your body and you cried out in pleasure. Too consumed by Eddie to be embarrassed by how loud you were being.

“Eddie! Oh god, yes, fuck right there!”

“You taste so sweet, even better than I imaged.” Eddie hummed into your cunt mimicking the vibrations your so use to with your vibrating toys. You body was quivering underneath him within minutes. He was way too good at this.

“Please, I’m coming, oh god I’m cuming!” You try to catch your breath with every world but it wa s no use. Eddie didn’t let up until your body was spent.

You watched Eddie sit up, your liquids covering his chin. He smiled as he spoke.

“We are only just getting started baby”

Another whimper left your throat as he pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. It bobbed as it was released from its confines and you wanted nothing more than to feel it in your mouth again.

“I know what you’re thinking, baby. But no, not tonight. I need to feel you.” He went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. You watched as he pulled out the condom from its foil wrappings. Your legs clenched in anticipation.

"I'm going to take real good care of you, Sunshine." he rolled it into himself before crawling back over your body.

"Okay, Eddie. I trust you."

Eddie's heart fluttered as you spoke. He was so honoured that you chose him to be your first. He would make you see what you had missed this whole time.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Yes, I think so." You nod.

Eddie hovered over you as he took your lips into his once more. You could taste yourself in his mouth and he slowly worked the tip along your slit collecting your natural lube so he could slip himself easily inside.

"Oh my god!' Eddie was thick, so much thicker than you were used to with your silicone boyfriend you had hidden in the drawer. Thank god you were at least used to that because you didn't know how you would have handled this otherwise.

"You're doing so well for me, Sunshine." he praised as his cock dove deeper into you. Your tight cunt felt like paradise.

You told Eddie he could start moving once you were comfortable and adjusted to his size.

You saw starts as his cock plunged in and out of you; it felt so fucking good. You couldn't keep in your pleasure. Moan after moan was music to Eddie's ears. Why had you waited this long to feel something so good?

"So good, fuck, you're so fucking tight." His strokes never let up. He kept the same tempo as his hips snapped into you. Your mouths hardly disconnect unless you need to come up for air. His hands explored under your bra as he pulled a cup down to free your nipple. He moved from your mouth down to take your breast into his mouth, curling your peaked bud just like he did your clit minutes before.

Your body was lit up again; the heat between you both was one thousand degrees. Eddie, was your everything at this moment. You didn't, nor couldn't think of anything but the pleasure he was feeding you.

"More, more, more," You chant as Eddie's cock pounds into you, filling you more than you had ever felt before.

Eddie listened and moved his hands to your clit. Sparking an electrical bolt through your entire body. Your already sensitive clit was pulsing with desire as Eddie continued to pleasure you. With each stroke of his cock and hand, your body couldn't take it anymore, and you began to convulse under him.

"Shit fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Eddie spoke before he realized that he was making you cum undone beneath him.

"Oh, yes! Eddie!"

"That's it, such a good girl, taking me so well. God your pussy is made for me." he spoke as he still used your body for his own pleasure. He didn't take much after your cunt latched down on him like a vice that he was coming right after you. A loud grunt left his lips as he felt a wave of please come over his body. His sensitive cock spurted its hot while cum into the condom that was still inside you.

"Wow," Was all you managed to say. Your brain was mush, but it was the best way possible.

"Yeah, wow," Eddie chuckled as he rolled off of you, out of breath but feeling blissful nonetheless.

"Is it always like that?" You mindlessly asked.

"With me, baby girl? Yeah." He chuckled.

"Wow," You repeated. Your brain is still not fully back down to earth.

"You wanna be my girl Sunshine?"

This snapped you back into reality.

"What? Really?" You turn your head to look at him.

"Yeah, baby girl," He cupped your face, waiting for your answer.

"Yes, Eddie, I'll be your girl"

Part 2

Tag list: @starksbabie @skyline4446 @bl00d-puppy @xxhellfirebunnyxx @amira0303 @ali-r3n @lavendermunson @fairykissesaresweet @minorlystuck13 @feral-pumpkin-energy @asimpforthe80s @flawiette @munsoneightysixx @localemofreak @babybimbo777 @elegantkolalapaper @stayonmars @harringtonxkeery @hellfiremunsonn @eddiestans-blog @sp1dyb0y1008 @nailbatanddungeon @munsonology @shadyhologrambanana

[zaczenemiji]

Hi! Just saw your request are open. I thought it would be a great to request a OS of Kenji Sato x Fem! Reader.

I got inspired by that song of "Too Sweet" from Hozier and I got the idea of how good is Reader with Emi, (since she knows he's Ultraman and also raises a baby Kaiju alone) such a Sunshine, even Emi sees her as a new maternal figure, he thinks she's too sweet, getting the idea of having kids with her but having the thought she deserves better.

But she thinks on the contrary, he's such a bad boy with a good heart. If you wanna add more things, it's up to you. I'll leave it to your imagination. Take your time and no need to rush. Take care.

Too Good, Too True

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,456

Genre/Warnings: Established Relationship, Found Family

Author’s Note: Particularly in love with this one, and Too Sweet plays rent-free in my head.

MASTERLIST

You know everything about Kenji: his past—the reason he’s distant from his dad, his secret—that he’s Ultraman, and his love child the 20-foot-tall kaiju baby in his basement.

You guys have been together for a long while now, even before everyone knew him as Ken Sato, the baseball star—the one whose name dominates the headlines.

With millions of adoring fans, you’re grateful you still have a place in his life. At first, there was a looming thought at the back of your head that tells you how easily replaceable you are.

No matter how you repress the thought, the fact remains that it is true. Who are you when compared to Kenji? You weren’t a model, an icon, a singer, or the daughter of a CEO—like all the other women waiting in line for him.

You were just… you. Simply (y/n) in her soft pastel and floral dresses. You don’t own a lot either, just a flower shop in LA. Your favorite hobby is tending to your garden where you grew the flowers that you sold.

All of your issues regarding this have long been resolved since Kenji has always been quick to reassure you of his love. That to him, everything and anyone else pails in comparison to you. He wishes you knew your impact on his life.

You have always been his breath of fresh air. It started at college during his baseball trainings, he’d wait for a certain girl to pass by. His eyes were always quick to find you among your group of friends.

On his games, you were his number one cheerleader. Your friends and his teammates were always so surprised to see the quiet dainty girl that you were yelling and cheering for his name.

Back when his mom was around, you got along with her so well. Kenji would find you and his mom in their kitchen baking cakes and making cute little pastries.

His mom loved having you around. You were always welcome at his house. When she found out that you were an international student who flew to LA alone and lived in a dorm, she almost wanted to adopt you.

But ain’t no way Kenji wanted to be just a brother in your life.

Many things have changed since then. In becoming a baseball star, half of his life was no longer private. In becoming Ultraman, his responsibilities were no longer limited to that of his career and personal life. And in becoming a daddy to a kaiju baby, he realized you deserve better.

You came over to his house every day to visit Emi. He admired your patience with her and how you were always a ray of sunshine to everyone, including a kaiju. And you’re not afraid of playing with her even if she could literally crush you out of nowhere.

You’d come over with fresh flowers picked from your parents’ garden. You’d make big flower crowns just for Emi and smaller ones for yourself and Mina.

Today was a particularly rough day as Kenji got home from a game. You wanted to accompany him today but he insisted for you to watch over Emi. He has been feeling like shit lately, not knowing what to do with Emi and his declining performance in his games.

Upon passing by the kitchen table, he sees a can of his favorite fizzy drink. Under it, a note. He lifted the can and read, “left this up here so mina won’t see (｡- .•)”

For the first time that day, he smiled. You’ve always told him how lucky you thought you were for being with someone as great as him. But the truth is, it’s the other way around.

In one go, he finished his drink so he could immediately head down to see you. You and Mina were too busy playing with Emi to notice him. He stayed at the lounge where he could see you from the other side of the glass.

There you were, beautiful, with flowers adorning your hair. You looked so pure and innocent. Your gentle demeanor had always put him at ease.

Your expressive eyes looked up at Emi in an attempt to communicate beyond words. Kenji loved your eyes. They were always filled with warmth and kindness but when you look at him, all he sees is love.

On the contrary, there’s him. He and his troubled past.

He is distant from his dad, wanting little to no connection with him. If it wasn’t for his mom, he wouldn’t have returned to Japan.

You weren’t like that. You had a good relationship with your parents. You deserve someone who could give you and your future children the same kind of environment you grew up in—peaceful and without the fear of the possibility that one day, your husband might not come home.

He worries he’d be like his dad, absent. He is Ultraman now. His duties would one day require him to be away, sometimes without notice and for extended periods. You deserve someone who can be there for you consistently.

He is constantly under the scrutiny of the public eye, both as Ultraman and the baseball star that he is. And the public is not often gentle. You deserve a private and peaceful life, away from the criticisms of society.

Kenji loves you dearly, he really does. But oftentimes, he thinks he’s not the best person for you. He thinks you deserve someone who can offer you a simpler and safer life.

Too deep in his thoughts, he failed to notice you enter the room. The kiss you gave on his cheek pulled him back to reality.

“Tough day?” You asked, sitting beside him on the couch.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But I’m okay now. You’re here now.” He turned to look at you, his rest.

“Would you like to talk about your day?” You asked, reaching out to brush strands of his hair away from his face.

He shook his head. “I’d like to hear about yours first.”

You smiled, excited to tell him what you planned on doing. Since he’s staying here in Japan for good, you thought you would too. The flower shop in LA would be left in a good friend’s care. And here, you thought of working as a kindergarten teacher. You had doubts before but after being able to take care of Emi and enjoying it, you were now sure that this is the kind of job for you.

Kenji’s expression shifted upon knowing this. A shadow of doubt crossed his face. “What’s wrong?” you asked. “Do you not approve?”

“You deserve better,” he said, eyes falling downward before turning away to lean properly on the couch.

Confused, you leaned back as well. “Better job?” You asked. “Kenji, I think this is the bes—“

“Better than a guy who’s got a kaiju baby to take care of and a past, present, and future that’s complicated,” he continued his earlier statement, cutting you mid-sentence.

You were shocked. You never expected him to feel this way. You felt bad because for every time he assured you of his love, you failed to realize that he needed reassurance too.

“Oh no, Kenji,” you said. You turned his face to look at you, cupping it with both of your hands. “You’re a good man.”

“I’m worried, (y/n),” he said softly. “I worry that I can’t give you the life you deserve.“

He wants to marry you, he truly does. He dreamed of having children with you, teaching them, watching them grow. And when all is done, living the rest of his life with you.

When he passes by jewelry stores, he always thinks of you. He’d get in, and browse their selection of rings, but thinking of how you’re too sweet for him holds him back from buying.

"You're the best man for me, Kenji. Not despite your past and your duties, but because of them. They've shaped you into the person I love,” you told him.

“You're a wonderful father to Emi. And if you ever wanted more—if you ever wanted us to be more,” you leaned in to press your forehead on his. “I know you'll be an amazing father because of how you love me every day.”

Kenji closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, the tension slowly leaving his body. "You really believe that?"

"Every word," you said softly. "You are my home, Kenji. As long as we're together, I'm not afraid of anything."

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, (y/n),” he said. “I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," you replied, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@flowerloves

[ssorenz]

everybody knows that im a good girl officers!

pairing: . ݁₊ ⊹ .: sukuna ryomen n’ toji fushiguro

synopsis : . ݁₊ ⊹ baking gone wrong! (or maybe right in your case?)

contains: sexual content MDNI, spanking, degradation, full nelson position, double penetration, blah blah blaaaah.. wc: im honestly not even sure

header from: . ݁₊ ⊹: lady k and the sick man

a/n :BABE WAKE UP, DSIIRES FINALLY POSTED 🗣️‼️ but all jokes aside, hii loveliess im back 😊!! i decided to finally post something, and since this was sitting in my drafts, why not post it? i do admit the ending is kind of rushed, so please forgive me🙇🏽‍♀️ but i hope you all enjoy, comments and requests are gladly appreciated! <3

sweet, sugary, scents of vanilla and cinnamon danced throughout the air as sunlight streamed in through your lace curtains, casting warm, golden hues upon your kitchen countertops.

baking flour dusted your cheeks as a determined glint shined in your eyes, precisely measuring the ingredients for the cake you were baking. it was your best friends birthday, after all. what better way to surprise her than with a home-baked cake?

once the cake pans were safely in the oven, you let out a sigh of relief. this morning had been dedicated to baking, and you were longing for a moment of relaxation. retrieving your cellphone, you settled onto the couch, letting your mind wander as you scrolled away through the screen to pass the time for a few minutes.

but minutes turned into moments, and the once familiar, sweet aroma began to fade away. a faint whiff of something burning wafted into your nose, snapping you out of your current reverie.

panicked, you rushed to the oven, heart pounding in your chest. smoke billowed from the oven, tendrils curling ominously towards the ceiling.

with a gasp, you yanked open the oven door, greeted by a charred mess where your sweets once stood. panicking, you frantically reached for your phone and dialed the fire department.

standing anxiously outside your house, you clutched her phone tightly, desperately awaiting for the distant sound of sirens to signal the arrival of the fire department.

soon enough, the welcoming wail of an approaching engine filled your ears—and within moments, the fire truck came to a brief halt in front of your home. two firefighters emerged from the truck, and as they stepped onto the pavement, their imposing figures caught your attention.

the first firefighter, with a rugged build and striking pinkish hair, exuded confidence as he surveyed the scene. beside him, stood his colleague, tall and commanding with dark black hair, his presence radiating confidence as well as cockiness.

the males strode up to you, their boots echoing against the pavement. the salmon-haired one with distinct facial tattoos— who’s badge read S. RYŌMEN, glared at you with annoyance while his counterpart surveyed the area.

"alright, what's the deal here? we got a call about some sorta emergency, but I'm not seeing any flames. don't tell me we rushed over here for nothin’.” he spoke, his deep voice carrying an air of authority.

the raven-haired officer's— who’s badge read T. FUSHIGURŌ—eyebrows knitted together, his deep, husky, voice tinged with irritation. "are we being pranked here, girl?" he questioned snarkily, his skepticism evident as he glanced around the seemingly ordinary surroundings. however, as you apologized and ushered them inside, their expressions softened slightly, replaced by a mix of curiosity and concern.

as they stepped into the kitchen— their boots leaving faint imprints on the linoleum floor— a wave of smoke greeted them, swirling lazily in the air. the acrid smell of burnt pastries hung heavy, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere in the room. ryōmen coughed lightly, his hand instinctively reaching for the collar of his uniform to cover his nose.

fushigurō sighed heavily as his gaze fixed on the charred remnants of what was once a baking sheet. "well, would you look at that? someone tried playing chef but ended up setting the kitchen on fire," the black-haired officer he muttered, his annoyance palpable in the air as he casually observed the smoke-filled chaos before him.

“i'm so sorry for the false alarm," you apologized, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "I was trying to bake a cake and—well—things got a bit…out of hand…”

the pair exchanged glances, then moved swiftly, their practiced efficiency a stark contrast to the mess you had inadvertently created. they quickly ventilated the room, opening windows and turning on fans to dispel the lingering smoke. as they moved, they checked for any remaining embers or hotspots, ensuring that the fire was completely out and that there was no risk of it reigniting.

as the firefighters continued their work, you couldnt help but stare. their tall, bulked figures were much larger compared to your own. the way you could hear their subtle grunts as they finished up their job…

lets just say, your mind definitely started to wander elsewhere..

ryōmen kneeled down and inspected the oven, his brow furrowing deeper. "looks like yer’ cake batter overflowed and caught fire," he remarked, his voice tinged with frustration. "next time, keep an eye on the oven temperature."

yet of course, you werent paying him any attention listening, too deep in the wet daydream that was playing idly in your mind. the pink-haired officer stood up and cleared his throat, “miss?”

you jumped, his voice snapping you out of the “daydream” you were having. you nodded vigorously, feeling the heat of embarrassment flush your cheeks. "i will—i promise. thank you both so much for coming so quickly."

you hurried to your cupboard to get them some water. rummaging through your cabinets, you managed to find a couple of clean glasses, and filled them with cool water from the tap. when you returned, they were just finishing up, their equipment neatly packed away.

"here," you said, offering the glasses. "please, have some water. it's the least i can do."

fushigurō took a glass with a nod of thanks, while his partner accepted the other with a grin. "thanks," he said, "surprised ya’ didnt burn the water this time…”

you couldn't help but chuckle softly, the tension of the situation easing slightly with the joke. "i try my best," you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. "but m’ really sorry for the trouble. is there any way i can make it up to you both?"you offered, hoping to ease the tension in the room and show your gratitude for their prompt response.

ryōmen glanced at his partner before responding, his expression twisting mischievously.

he placed his glass down as he leaned back on the kitchen table, his tall figure towering over you darkly.

“you said you’re really sorry, hm?” he spoke lowly, his crimson eyes now lowering, gazing onto you.

you nodded eagerly, unsure of what he was implying. “um, well— yes of course-“

the officers lust-laced voice spoke words you doubted you would ever hear…

"then prove it."

so here you were— half-naked in your living room, in a standing full nelson position, sandwiched between the two men that were once standing in your kitchen—now both pounding you silly.

your helpless mewls mixing with the lewd squelches your cunt made filled the empty silence in the room. fushigurō’s long, thickness was so prominent as it kneaded itself against your g-spot, making you fall into a cock-drunk daze.

"that feel good, huh'?", toji muttered, gazing lasciviously into your eyes while supporting your legs high. it was so intimate— but so naughty too, the way he was so filthy..

you nodded in reply, clearly too overstimulated to speak properly. luckily, sukuna was quick to amend your actions—sending a swift, sharp, strike against your ass.

"didn't he ask you a question? say it properly, slut, don't make us waste our breath like you did our time now," he snarled behind you. his strokes were so rugged and mean, much meaner than tojis (which was unsurprisingly fitting for the man), making you whimper breathlessly from the pleasure.

"f-feels s'good tojiiiii—“ you whined out the name in reply, hiccuping. it was true, the way they both grinded against each other, inside of you, leaving you trembling, aching with pleasure. this position requiring them hit harder, deeper, inside of your soaked, throbbing slit— it was too much.

"good fuckin' girl, look at ya'— squeezin' us so tight. yer takin' us so well," fushiguro commented, leaning in for a kiss. his scarred lips passionately met your own, letting out a soft, suppressed groan. he went deeper into the kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth.

his hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him as he continued thrusting into you from the front. meanwhile, his counterpart pounded away at your stuffed cunt relentlessly; each stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending in both your bodies.

you found yourself lost in this sensual haze of double penetration bliss— moaning uncontrollably into toji’s mouth while feeling your hole being stretched to its limits by these two. your entire world consisted of nothing but the rhythmic movement between your legs and the taste of salty sweat on fushigurō's lips as ryōmen whispered dirty nothings into your ear that only fueled your desire even more.

sukuna’s hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he pounded into you harder than before, his breathing becoming ragged in your ear with each passing second. toji followed suit by grabbing one of your legs and lifting it up high enough for him to hit a new angle inside of you— sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout every inch of your being.

“filthy whore— paying your debt with—ngh.. dick,” sukuna began, still thrusting into you, but at a much irregular pace now. “who knew such a seemingly innocent thing like you could be so dirty.. starin’ us, shit, up and down like slabs of meat..”

as the intensity of their movements increased, so did the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your body. you felt like you were on the brink of orgasm yourself— and apparently so did ryōmen and fushigurō. both men let out loud grunts, no longer holding back, and began to thrust deeper. it was painfully clear that they were close to reaching their climaxes.

“damn, m’so fuckin’ close— ya gonna let us cum inside? knock up this— fuck, tight ass cunt of yers’?” toji grunted.

"please," you begged between gasps for air, "cum inside me...need it..so badly.” your voice was hoarse from the countless moans and whines that ehshshsh. your whiny, raspy pleas and helpless cries were enough to send both men over the edge. so, with one final push from fushigurō and a deep moan from ryōmen, both men came inside of you simultaneously - painting every crevice with their warming, sticky ropes of essence.

as they both released inside of you, your body was hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced. your cunt clenched tightly around their cocks as they emptied themselves into you, milking every last drop from their swollen, pulsating shafts.

your eyes rolled back into your head— a mixture of pain and ecstasy that left you breathless moments afterward. tears streamed down your face from the sheer intensity of the orgasm that coursed through every inch of your limp body.

the room was silent for a moment as the three of you caught your breath. you could feel their cum slowly dripping out of you as the two men pulled out, leaving behind a sticky mess beneath them.

looking up, toji’s lust-filled stare met your own, a small scar-ridden smirk decorating his face. “that was fuckin’ incredible, god,” he said before ryōmen spoke teasingly behind you..

“but you know, theres better ways to get fucked then damn near burning your house down..”

[oneforthemunny]

surprise, surprise |eddie munson x reader|

prompt: eddie forgets your birthday. or maybe he doesn't.

my birthday is in a few days and i wanted to write a little birthday ficlet blurb :) no aus, just eddie.

contains: angst/fluff. birthday doom. kinda asshole eddie?? kinda asshole friends?? really fluffy sweet ending. language.

“So,” Heather leaned over, chin propped in her hands dramatically slumped over the counter. “What’re you doing this weekend?” 

“Nothing,” You hummed, fingers flicking through the crinkled bills. “Why? You know something fun going on?” 

“It’s your birthday.” Heather gawked playfully. “You’re not doing anything for your birthday?” 

You rolled your eyes lightly, pushing the cash drawer closed. “No.” You shook your head, voice tight. 

“Eddie isn’t taking you out?” Heather’s brows furrowed. “Or you’re not going home? Going out? Are you getting a cake?” 

Your heart sank, a familiar burn rising in your chest. You didn’t speak about your birthday much, not much of an occasion for celebration to you, more of one that was dreadful. Another year closer to death, you’d grumble cynically. Still, when Eddie hadn’t even acknowledged it, when your friends had all blown you off for other plans, a new kind of ache formed in your chest. The sting of being forgotten, of being unimportant and discarded- on your birthday. 

It left a bitter taste on your tongue, sardonic and painful when you spoke about your impending birthdate. “No,” You shook your head, chin ducked to your chest. You had never wanted a customer to come in so badly, save you from this painful conversation with your co-worker. “They’re all busy.” 

“Oh.” Heather quipped, face falling at your tone. 

“I mean, it’s my fault.” You added quickly- defensively. Why you were so defensive over the people who had discarded you so easily, you weren’t sure. “I should have planned something earlier, but… I dunno, I got busy and life got super hectic and it just slipped past me-” 

“-No,” Heather shook her head, curls unmoving with the abundance of Aquanet she used, still. “That’s really shitty of them, all of them. It’s your birthday.” 

You stayed silent, wiping the counter half heartedly, swallowing back the familiar burn in your throat that choked you. “I mean, if it was my girlfriend or my friend, I would be buggin’ about their birthday.” Heather shrugged. 

“Yeah, me too.” You muttered. Bouts of memories pouring back into your mind. How you’d planned a party for Eddie, baked him some stupid cake from scratch that was in the Lord of the Rings. You’d gone to countless second hand stores trying to find the ancient recipe, and it took you a day to perfect. Now, he couldn’t even be bothered to take you out? Get you a cheap store bought cake? 

“I’m sorry.” Heather muttered, a solemn, nearly guilty pout on her lips. “Well, you’re off tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I get off at three. What if we go out? We can go to the bar- oh, there’s this new band playing in Franklin. Tommy could drive us.” Heather, ever the bubbly optimist, grinned, eyes shining with pride. It was endearing, made your heart squeeze with an ache you weren’t quite sure how to describe. 

“I’ll even get you a cupcake. A good one, from Nadia’s.” Heather added. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You shook your head lightly. You and Heather were work friends, hung out on the rare occasion after work to bitch about work, about the other coworkers, the pain-in-the-ass customers of the day over glasses of Pinot. Selfishly, it felt nice to have someone excited for your birthday. 

You hated that you wished it was Eddie, your own friends. 

“What’s your flavor, hm? Chocolate?” Heather pressed, brushing you off cheerily. 

“Don’t get me a cupcake. I’ll throw it up if we’re drinking. All the icing and liquor.” You snarled your nose playfully. 

“Fine. I’m buying you a drink then.” Heather nodded. She paused, nails drumming on the counter too. “And, I mean, if you want Eddie to come too, of course he’s invited.” Her eyes cut to yours carefully. “I didn’t know if you wanted him to come.” 

“I mean, I don’t know if he’d even be able to.” Your lips pursed, a cutting edge of annoyance in your tone. “He’s so busy.” 

Heather cringed, shooting you an apologetic look. “Yeah, that… I’m sorry, that sucks.” She mumbled. 

A stiff silence fell between the two of you over the whirr of the air conditioning blowing through the vents. “Since it’s so dead, why don’t you go early?” Heather suggested. “I can cover closing.” 

“Heather, Mel will be pissed-” 

“-Mel will be pissed if she has to pay both of us for standing around.” Heather gave you a pointed look. “And you came in before me. I got it.” 

“Are you sure?” You hesitated. “I don’t care to stay in case there’s a rush-” 

“-At seven?” Heather scoffed slightly. “Go. I’ve got it.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah. I’ll call you when I’m on my way, ‘kay?” Heather chirped. 

“See you then.” You waved, cringing at the sing-songy Happy birthday! Heather shouted at you. 

You pulled open your cubby, gathering your purse, your umbrella. You wrote your time on the clipboard, the phone taunting you on the hook next to it. Any other day, you’d call Eddie- call home or the shop, wherever he was, just to let him know you’d be home early. He’d always reply with a silly comment that had your cheeks rushing with heat, warmth swelling in your chest. 

Tonight, you decided against it. He was too busy, anyway. Too busy at the shop, with his friends, at band practice. You tried not to dwell on it, let your mind spiral and spin down a damning dark hole of what ifs. It consumed you anyways, on your drive home, the radio playing on a static filled station that you didn’t bother to change. Background noise drowned out by your own hammering heart. 

Eddie’s van was parked in the gravel of his driveway, leaving just enough space for you to slide in under the covering attached to the trailer. He always let you have that spot, closer to the door, protected from the elements- so considerate. 

It was hard to fathom that it was the same boy who had forgotten your birthday, brushed it off like it was just another day. 

Your throat tightened around the ever growing lump, hands tight from the white knuckled grip you had on the wheel when you turned the keys out of the ignition. The stairs squeaked under your weight, the screen door hissing with the familiar soft screech when you pulled it open. 

“No- Henderson, what the fuck is the matter with you?” Eddie huffed, his voice trailing in from the living room. 

You paused, hand catching the door as it fell, quieting it as it latched. The air was thick, warm with a sticky, sweet smell. Music playing in a low hum from Eddie’s beloved boom box he kept in the living room. 

“You said to hang it!” Dustin’s shrill tone cut through the air. 

“Yeah, hang it high- Jesus Christ, I shoulda just waited until Robin got off.” Eddie was hidden by the wall, but you could practically see him pinching his nose, hand running over his curly bangs. “Can you- Can you go see if we can ice the cake yet?” 

“Yeah, what do I do?” Dustin questioned, a silence falling between the two of them. Your lips curled, swallowing a giggle. “What? I’m not a master chef or something. You act like I should know this. There wasn’t a cake making class-” 

“-There was, you moron. Home Ec, which clearly, you failed.” Eddie huffed in annoyance. You froze at his heavy footsteps, voice carrying closer and closer.“Whatever, can you- just make it look nice in here? Put the rest of the streamers up and- shit!” Eddie flinched, jumping at the sight of you in the doorway. Wide eyed and still, like you’d been caught. 

“Baby,” Eddie’s breath startled. “Hey, uh, what are you- you said you didn’t get- you’re home already?” His voice lifted, carried high in a squeak of surprise. 

“Yeah, I got off early. I thought you were working late.” Your brows furrowed at the tear of plastic, leaning to look around the corner. “What are you doing-” 

“-Don’t look in there.” Eddie snapped, his hand falling on the doorframe, arm blocking your vision. You jumped, glaring at him with annoyance. “I thought you closed tonight?” 

“I thought you closed tonight.” You huffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Clearly that’s not true. What is this? Another campaign night?” You rolled your eyes, body burning with irritation, jaw wound tight with it. 

“What? N-No, I-I thought you wouldn’t be home until later, and I’d have more time-” Eddie rambled, side stepping to block your view behind him. 

“-Ed, I don’t care if that’s what it is.” Your shoulders deflated, a wave of painful exhaustion, disappointment falling over you. “I just wish you would’ve let me know before you invite all these people over to play your game, so I could-” A shimmering glimmer of multicolored sequins caught your eyes, shining in the yellowed light of the kitchen, iridescent hued droplets cast over the cabinets. There, draped over the chair in bright, glittering letters, a small sash that read Happy Birthday! in obnoxiously big letters. 

You paused, eyes scanning towards the cake, cooling on the rack next to the mixing bowl of icing, the icing spatula still in it. Paper mache streamers taped to the ceiling, hung in swooping bouts mixed with the shiny streamers and balloons all the way to the living room. Eddie had brought out the folding table from the crawl space, even put a plastic tablecloth from the store over it to hide the yellowing stains that would never fade. 

Dustin’s eyes met yours, wide and darting between you and Eddie, still holding the roll of streamers he’d yet to hang. “Uh, Happy Birthday?” Dustin shrugged. 

Eddie huffed, shaking his head at him. “Fuck, I-I’m sorry, it was supposed to be a surprise.” Eddie’s foot bounced with anxious adrenaline. “I thought you didn’t get off until eight, and-and I had it all planned, sweetheart, I really did. Steve’s getting the pizza, and everyone’s coming over at seven thirty-ish, and I- I was even going to have them park at Wayne’s in the back so you wouldn’t see.” 

Your chest felt deflated, void of any air, words, anything. Eddie chewed on his lip, hands twitching next to his jeans. “It was going to be this whole thing, fuck!” He huffed. “It was going to be a whole big thing, and…” 

Eddie’s heart leapt when your eyes finally met his. His fingers still drummed against the rough material of his jeans, veins filled with icy excitement, fear, anticipation? He wasn’t sure. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered, stepping to hover over you, voice dropping to a soft coo, hands sliding over your cheeks. “I’m- I wanted it to be a surprise.” 

You swallowed thickly. Eddie’s touch was soft, but it left you with a tingling burn when his thumb delicately traced your cheek bone. “You- This is for me?” You squeaked. 

Eddie’s lips curled in a half smile, brows creasing. “Well, yeah.” He said playfully. “Who else would it be for?” 

Your brain was deafeningly silent, stunned at every new detail you’d discover. “You said you were busy.” Was all you could muster out, blinking up at Eddie. “You said you had to work late.” 

“I might have fibbed a little.” Eddie tilted his head sillily. “Told a little lie so I could get this set up.” He nodded towards the living room, a balloon floating near the doorway. 

“I just really wanted to surprise you.” Eddie’s shoulders fell. “I was trying to outdo you. Tryna out do what you did for mine. I called all your friends- even Alexandra,” You rolled your eyes at the mention, she was Eddie’s least favorite friend of yours. 

“And I… I just wanted to surprise you.” Eddie blinked down at you. “Just wanted your day to be special.” 

Your day, the phrase wrapped around you, swirled through your veins like a warm hug, squeezing your heart. 

“I’m sorry, it… I didn’t think about work.” Eddie shook his head, running a hand over his forehead. “I didn’t even think about it, and I-” 

“-Eddie,” Your voice caught in your throat. 

Eddie tensed, cringing with expectant dread. He’d ruined it, blew it, the tears were coming and they were deserved. You’d done so well on his, surprised the hell out of him with the cake, decorated for his birthday campaign with lanterns and candles you’d thrifted. Gone all out for him, and he couldn’t even pull off a simple surprise party. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered, head pressing to yours. His eyes cut around the room, making sure a certain Henderson pest was lurking. 

“Sorry?” You repeated. “Eddie, I-I am surprised.” You choked out, looking around the room with gleaming eyes. 

Eddie paused. “You are?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I thought you’d forgotten.” You admitted. “I thought everyone had forgotten.”  

Eddie’s brows pinched in a confused scowl. “You thought I’d forget?” He muttered. 

A watery laugh fell from your lips before you could stop it. “Yeah.” You admitted. “You were really convincing.” 

Eddie’s chest boasted playfully. “Oscar worthy?” 

“You’d sweep the competition.” You jested back, arms sliding over his forearms. His hands found home on the small of your waist, pulling you into him. 

“I didn’t forget your birthday.” Eddie said softly. “Just… for the record.” 

“I can see that.” You giggled. “Thank you. It’s-It’s really sweet.” 

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it.” Eddie’s hands rubbed down your spine. “It would look better but… Robin and Nancy didn’t get off until later, and it’s just me and Henderson.” 

“It looks great. Perfect.” Your cheek pressed to the soft cotton of his t-shirt. His nice shirt, Eddie always called it. Broke it out for special occasions. 

“Not perfect. Fucked up the main part.” Eddie grumbled. “I can call everyone, let them know that they can park out front since there’s no surprise anymore.” 

“No, don’t do that.” You shook your head lightly, chin propping against his chest to look up at him. “I’ll leave and come back, and you can still do it. I can pretend to be surprised.” 

Eddie’s lips curled, pulling back to look down at you. “You’re gonna pretend?” He tilted his head. 

“My turn to act.” You teased, brow lifting gently. “Give you some competition.” You poked his tummy playfully. 

Eddie grinned, pulling you back into him, lips sliding over yours in a soft kiss you savored. Melting into each other, fusing into a gooey puddle- it was corny, a cliche. One you’d roll your eyes at if it was anyone else. 

“Happy birthday.” Eddie muttered, lips brushing and tickling your own. 

“Thank you.” You whispered back, hands finding the base of his neck, pushing him back into you. Eddie’s hand fell against the wooden door frame, steadying himself in a rapidly heating makeout. 

“Uh,” Dustin’s voice interrupted the two of you, just as Eddie’s hands were sliding under your work blouse. “Yeah, I-I finished with the streamers.” 

Eddie glared at him, jaw ticking in annoyance when you pulled away. “I’m just going to grab my makeup bag, and I’ll go.” You whispered, cheeks flooding with heat. 

Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes at Dustin when you left. “What? What did I do?” Dustin threw his hands out. 

“Such a fuckin’ cock block, Henderson.” Eddie muttered, stomping into the kitchen. “Put the plates and shit out, will ya?” 

Your performance was Oscar worthy, Eddie decided later, when you stepped through the door of the now darkened trailer, gasping when the lights flickered on and everyone jumped out. You looked positively radiant, glowing with excitement at the small crowd of friends crammed into the doorway. Eddie kissed you, sloppier than he should have, especially in front of everyone, but he didn’t care. Overwhelmed with affection for you. 

He couldn’t tell if you were still pretending when he brought out the cake, the room singing in a harmonious tone to you, candles lit and glowing in the dim light. Eddie didn’t miss the way your eyes sparkled, fingers pressed to your lips at the now iced cake. When your fingers curled under his chin, sharing a fork-full of cake with him, kissing him after so quickly it left his head spinning. 

His birthday girl, it was your day. Eddie never thought he’d love a random day as much as he did. He had no idea how important that day would become when he’d first met you, how it would engrave itself in his mind forever. 

He was glad it did. Looking at you, giggling with your friends on the couch, then again, the next night, singing with Heather at the crowded bar- Eddie’s chest heart swelled. Proud that he’d surprised you, hopeful that he’d get to for the rest of his life. 

Next year, he’d do it right. Really pull off the party you deserved. He’d start saving now, planning too. He decided it that night, tucked between the sheets, your head still on his sweat soaked chest. He could still taste you on his tongue, lips numb from the time he’d spent between your legs. Lashes fluttering in sleep, curled into him, Eddie pulled you closer. He’d get it right next year, you deserved it. 

[inkdrinkerworld]

Inn Love

cw: friends to lovers, cowboy!james, innkeeper!reader, pet names, fluff, scene setting really

wc: 2.6k

“Please Jamie? I just need a couple pounds of butter.” You bat your eyes at him, all sweet and innocent but James knows you.

“If I give you what I have left I won’t have any to sell in the market this weekend.” He’s trying to stand firm. He really really is.

For all your sweetness and innocence, you’re like a viper to James’ strength of will.

“I’ll pay you more than the market.” You’ll definitely try, but James can never charge you full price.

“I��m sorry, darling. Go to Malloy, he sells butter too.”

You wrinkle your nose. “No one sells butter that’s as good as yours, Jamie.” You’re trying as hard as you can, James seems unmoved. So you up the ante. “I’ll bring you one of the pound cakes on top of payment.”

James falters a bit then. You bake the best in the entire town. At your inn, The Secret Garden, that’s one of the best reviews after the impeccable mattresses. You also know James has the softest, sweetest spot for pound cake- especially the blood orange pound cake you make.

He groans and you squeal, your boots clicking on the cobble. James gestures for you to come into his house.

“You’re so fucking evil.” he mumbles, reaching into his second fridge and handing you three pounds of butter. You take a quick peek and find his fridge stocked with pre packaged butter wrapped pretty in parchment, cheese in there too. There’s even milk. James is the best damn dairy farmer this town has ever seen and it’s a wonder how he ever has enough butter.

“You are an angel, James Potter.” you wrap your arms around his neck, and James�� hands automatically wrap around your back.

He’s big and warm, smells like leather and blood oranges and for all his muscles James is surprisingly soft.

James can’t fight the smile on his lips when you let go of him. You really are sweet. “You’re lucky I made more butter today.”

You gasp, not at all surprised. “You playing hard ball with me, Jamie?”

He nods, setting his hat on the counter. “Maybe I wanted a pound cake for free.” he teases but James would never take anything from you without paying you no matter how much you try to get him to. He doesn’t really care that you’re friends, he’s paying you for everything.

“You’re losing angel status, Potter. I gotta go, gotta bake for breakfast tomorrow and for the market this weekend.”

“See ya’, darling.”

James spots you while you’re closing up your booth at the market and hands off the empty crates he was hauling to his friends, Sirius and Remus.

He jogs over to you, and places his hands on your shoulders. You startle and almost swing a punch at him but he catches your fist.

“Okay Rocky,” he chuckles when you put your hand to your chest, breathing heavily like you’d just run a mile.

“You scared me, James! How don’t you make noise when you walk?”

James rolls his eyes, taking your crates from you. You move to packing bags.

“I make lots of noise, you’re just in your head.” He says, you shrug with a smile.

“Did they buy all of your butter?” you ask as you start walking towards your truck, James close behind.

“And the milk and the cheese.” You roll your eyes at his cocky tone.

You know James better than most here. You went to school together, you used to ranch with him when you were younger and when his mom and dad still owned the ranch.

Then you’d both had to grow up, you going to business school and James having to take over the ranch after his mom and dad had gotten sick.

You’d come back for the funeral and been there when James couldn’t get out of bed to deal with the ranch and all the shit that came with that and stayed till he got better and could do it himself.

Then James helped you with the construction of The Secret Garden, your inn that became your baby.

All this to say is, you know James Potter and he’s not as cocky as he pretends to be.

Sure he’s any woman’s dream. With his inky curls always peeking out under his hat, his muscle tees that show off tan, muscled arms, his pretty brown eyes that remind you so much of browned butter and his fucking dimples.

But James is a sweetheart.

“I told you about that tone, Jamie. Makes you sound too sure of yourself.”

James only chuckles, placing the crates in your tray and the rest of your stuff.

“I’m sorry weren’t you telling me the other day that my butter’s the best?”

You wave him off, laughing as you open the back door.

“Do I give you your loaf now or at family dinner tonight?”

James smiles, this is the one routine you and James still have from when you were kids. You go over on Sunday night for family dinner and then you go to the inn and try to get to sleep before your three am alarm.

“I just spent all day in the hot sun and you’re gonna deprive me? You’re cruel, darling.”

You laugh, handing him the loaf and then reaching in your cooler for a bottle of water. “Here Jamie.”

James’ mouth is already stained pink with the icing from your cake. Crumbs clinging to his shirt and chin.

“James! Have some dignity.” your words are broken up with your laugh, James smiles when you hand him the open water bottle.

“Thanks, darling.” Half the loaf cake is gone, and James guzzles the water like he’s been dying of thirst the whole day.

You watch James drink, aware that you’ve been staring a little longer than necessary and James knows it too because he winks at you.

“What are we having for dinner, James?”

James smiles, “Beef, you wanted that last time when we had chicken.”

You smile, giddy as ever. If it’s one thing James can do is roast beef; it’s always tender and perfect.

“Do you need me to come over early and do the potatoes? With the rosemary and thyme?” James nods, breaking off another little bite of the cake.

“Meet me there in an hour? I know you gotta do dinner at the inn.”

You shake your head, “I got Mary doing dinner tonight, and I wanna check on Snowglobe.”

James’ hand falls over his heart, a look of mock offense on his face. “Do you not believe me when I tell you he’s okay?”

You roll your eyes, “Can’t I want to take my best boy for a little leg stretch?”

James grumbles, “Best boy? Snowglobe took two years to train when we were kids.”

You smile as you remember all the days you’d sleep in James’ room complaining about how Snowglobe hated you and would never warm up to you.

“And now he’s the best horse a girl could have.You’re just jealous Jamie.”

He says nothing, just takes his loaf cake and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll follow behind you. Try not to drive like you’re on a race track, yeah?” You nod, getting into your truck and letting James close the door for you.

You don’t listen to James’ words and speed towards his ranch, foot to the pedal even as you swing into the grocery for chocolate for dessert- lest you and James pass away without a sweet treat after dinner.

At his place, in the Big House, you and James work side by side prepping dinner. He seasons the beef, you season the potatoes and put them to roast and then start on a chocolate cake.

It’s not a fancy one, but it’s occasion enough for a chocolate cake.

“How long till everything is finished?” Sirius asks, hat on his chest as he walks in holding a six pack.

“About an hour.” You and James say at the same time. Remus rolls his eyes as he steps in behind his boyfriend.

“I got your fruit, you didn’t stop by.” He holds out three bowls of cut fruit and you smile.

“Thanks Rem, I swear everyone came for bread today! I sold out of it so fast I really contemplated going back to the inn and baking more.”

The boys hum, smiling when James opens a beer and slides it to you. You take it with a nod and a smile. Quickly, you uncover the bowl of watermelon, taking a few pieces and smiling at the sweetness.

“It’s cos it’s fucking amazing bread. Lasts the whole fucking week too.” A compliment from Sirius is always genuine- as long as you’d known him, about two years, you can count on one hand how many sweet words the man says.

Conversation lulls, James talks about his plans for the week, Sirius talks about how there’s too many people trying to build big condos in your town- he’s in real estate and Remus talks of how much simpler life had gotten since he’d started raising chickens again.

You shoot out of your seat, James watches you curiously. You pull the cake from the oven and turn to all three of them stern as can be, “Those potatoes have ten minutes. I’m going to see my horse, do not let them burn.”

You rush out of the Big House without another word, boots clicking against the wooden floors and then crunching on the gravel path as you make your way to the stables.

“Snowglobe, baby.” You call, passing each stall till you find your baby’s.

Snowglobe is an old boy, almost twenty four, but he’s always been perfect. He’s all white, a pretty shiny sort of white on his coat that makes him look like fresh fallen snow. Hence his name.

He raises his head as he sees you, tail flicking as you reach a hand into his stall.

“I missed you, old boy.” You kiss his nose, stepping into the stall and getting a brush. You’re sure the farm hands James hired keep him well groomed, but he likes a bit of pampering and he deserves it too.

You brush through his mane, talking to him and sneaking a couple apples to him.

There’s a knock on the stable doors and you startle, you hear James’ deep chuckle before you see him. “Dinner’s ready,”

You kiss Snowglobe on his nose again. “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll go riding, baby.”

James rolls his eyes when Snowglobe puts his face on your shoulder, stopping you from moving.

You grin wide, “I promise, old boy. We’ll go riding all evening.”

Snowglobe seems pleased because he lifts his head and lets you go.

“He’s as clingy as you are,” James says as you walk out beside him.

“He’s not clingy! He’s the best and I don’t come see him nearly enough.”

James scoffs, “The four times a week you ride him up and down the ranch isn’t enough?” He bumps your hips with his.

You shrug your shoulders with a smile, “He likes the exercise and your boys still saddle him. He doesn’t like it.”

James is well aware, Snowglobe tosses saddles off him if he’s feeling particularly annoyed with the weight of them some days.

James pushes open the door to the Big House. You walk past him, taking your seat on the table and groaning.

“This is gonna be fucking great.” Sirius laughs at your swear, and loads up your plate- roast potatoes, roast beef and salad.

By the time you’re all finished dinner, you and James have had two slices of cake each and you’re both sprawled on his sofa.

Remus is laying on Sirius with his hat on his stomach and Sirius’ is pulled low on his face.

“I gotta get going,” you say, breaking the silence. Your words are groggy, sleep close in your reaches the longer you lay beside James.

James sits up, “What time is your alarm?”

“Three thirty.”

James tries pulling you down beside him, but you don’t budge. “I’ll drop you back in the morning.”

You huff, a little amused. “What time do you usually wake up, James?”

“Four. I gotta check the fences though, so three thirty ain’t bad.”

There’s no use arguing with him, and you don’t really want to. He stretches out on the sofa,

Sirius and Remus are out cold, James doesn’t even move them. He just throws a blanket over them.

“C’mon, the guest room is always ready for you.” James sounds just as tired as you feel, his eyes look a little glassy too.

“Thanks Jamie,” you push open the door and smell the lavender spray you use at night strong as if you’d just sprayed it.

“Course darling, your blanket’s there too. Come get me when your alarm goes off, yeah?” James kisses your forehead, you smile.

“Yeah Jamie. Go get some sleep.”

You climb under your blankets, grinning when you smell the linen detergent James uses. Sleep comes quick, your eyes heavier than they’ve been all day now that you’re laying down.

-

Someone is shaking your shoulder and you don’t like it.

“Stop,” you groan, pushing the hand off you and pulling your blanket over your head.

“Darling it’s nearly three thirty. Come get some coffee.”

You groan, twisting in protest under the covers. “No. I’ll be down at three thirty.”

James rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me use advanced waking up tactics.”

Your head pops out of the covers, hair a little messed up. “You are not tugging this cover off me James. I swear to god.”

James smiles, “You’re so pleasant in the morning. C’mon, we’ll have coffee and one of those breakfast sandwiches and I’ll drop you off.”

The grumble you let out makes James laugh some more.

“Give me five minutes.” James nods, leaving the room and letting you go about your morning routine.

You find James pulling two sandwiches from his oven, setting yours on a plate and biting into his immediately.

“Thanks Jamie, where’s my coffee?”

James tilts his head to the pot, your favourite cup sitting right beside it.

“Your creamer’s in the fridge.”

You frown, “Where did you get sugar free creme brûlée creamer in the middle of summer?”

James shrugs, “Not telling. But it’s there.” James takes a sip of his own coffee, black with just a touch of sugar. “It’s turkey in the sandwich too.”

You smile, fixing your cup and then shuffling towards James to kiss his cheek.

“You’re cute, thank you Jamie.”

His cheeks redden without meaning too. “Eat so we can go darling. You got scones to bake and what is it today? Eggs and bacon with toasted sourdough?”

You nod, biting into your sandwich. “Yeah and I gotta do cookies today, want me to bring any over?”

James frowns, “Today?” You nod, taking the last bite of your sandwich and finishing off your coffee.

“Taking Snowglobe out after I finish up dinner at the inn.”

James rolls his eyes playfully. Since the moment Snowglobe stopped fighting you, the pair of you had been inseparable. “Yeah, you can bring a couple. Make sure and eat lunch.”

“Left overs?” Your eyes are wide and hopeful as you look at James. He feels his chest constrict a little.

He opens the fridge and pulls out a bowl, “Got everything here for you.”

“Angel status has been restored Jamie,” James grins, dimples poking out. Truly, he’d never been worried, you’re never actually upset with him ever. Angel status is always applied, but he can’t deny the way it makes him feel when you tell him that it is.

“You’re so gracious!” James bows, making you giggle and slap his shoulder. “Ready?” He asks as he rights himself. James opens the fridge again, pulling out the bowls of fruit Remus had brought over and setting them on your lunch.

“Ready, Jamie.”

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Unexpected things you did that delight them:  

Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto, Trey Clover, Ruggie Bucci, Malleus Draconia

Content: Fluff

You learned proper tea etiquette for Riddle  

It starts out with you just listening to him correct others as they go throughout the various teatimes of Heartslabyul. How it leads to you thrifting a tea set from a local shop is hard to say, and it’s chipped a bit on the plates, but it holds, and the lady gave it to you for a far cheaper price than she should have. But it cleaned up beautifully, you filled in the cracks with some leftover clay and didn’t even have to repaint it! It was already in Ramshackle blue and green.  

It is embarrassing when he finds you quizzing yourself on the different spoons and plates, but the smile that blooms is worth it.  

You have no idea that when you invite him over for a tea party a few weeks after, it’s the first one that he hasn’t hosted himself. He borrows the same book from the library to brush up on his guest etiquette.  

“Prefect, what are you-ah! A lovely set. If you were needing to learn I would be happy to assist! What teas do you prefer? I will bring complimenting savories or sweets.”  

You carry glasses cleaner for Azul  

Assuming you don’t carry it already or if you don’t wear glasses. You and Azul usually spend a lot of time at Octavinelle but occasionally he will come to Ramshackle. He has since seen the work that you put into fixing up the place and the furniture you've built and appreciates it a way that the others can’t. Afterall, many of his own pieces are repaired or thrifted antiques for authenticity.

Lounging on the couch while listening to one of the jazz records he brought, you take the glasses from his hand when he realizes that he forgot his own cleaner.  

“Prefect, why would you have glasses wipes, you don’t wear any. Ah, you carry them for me. How thoughtful of you, my friend! I hope I’m not putting you out any.” 

You baked him a birthday cake for Trey  

Everyone gets nervous when Trey’s birthday comes around. How do you bake for a baker? He got past the disappointed feeling a long time ago though, perfectly prepared to make his own birthday cake.  

What isn’t accounted for you is pushing him out of the kitchen, declaring it against the rules for him to bake his own birthday cake. He could fight you on it, but he’s intrigued at this point on what you will make.  

What he doesn’t anticipate is a simple vanilla cake with a blueberry filling, a light buttercream frosting and candied violets and almonds scattered on the top. It’s simple but delicious and clearly just for him.

“You’ve got some real potential here. Where did you learn to make candied violets? You foraged and learned how just for me? Ah, that was too much for me. Thank you.”  

You clean Ruggie’s ears 

Ruggie does a lot of things to ensure everybody else gets taken care of, which means sometimes he neglects himself a bit. The showers got trashed over at Savanaclaw so he asks to use yours after a particularly messy Spelldrive Practice. As long as Grim can play with the disk in the backyard with the ghosts, it’s a deal for you.  

He comes out fluffy, hair sticking out in all sorts of places, which means you can see inside his ears and see the dirt still stuck in there. Offering to clean them wasn’t a big deal to you, you have to for Grim all the time.  

It gets awkward for a minute when he lays his head in your lap, but as soon as the cotton hits the inside and starts wiping up all the dirt and grim, he’s putty in your hands  

“I swear they weren’t that bad but-oh. Oh that’s nice. I think I can hear colors now. And your heartbeat. What’s got you racing, huh? I didn’t moo. I did not!” 

You got pictures of his family for Malleus  

This man has pictures of himself and his parents up on the walls, but none of the rest of his family. So, you work with the ghost for a long time, getting candid shots and other bit and pieces and slowly pulling them together. When Malleus’s birthday rolls around, you actually feel nervous about it.  

When he opens his present, to see the photo album, he gets unexpectedly quiet and soft, scanning through the quotes and stories written off to the side. You give little tidbits of how you get some shots, especially the times where you were sure that Lilia knew but didn’t say anything.  

Some even had him! Silver putting him in a headlock during some play wrestling, Lilia tapping his nose while playing chess, a rare moment of him and Sebek reading together where the half fae is actually relaxed.  

At the bottom are small, framed photos of what you thought were the best ones. Silver in his armor, surrounded by animals and birds alike, his sword gleaming with sunlight, looking gentle and graceful and alert. Sebek on horseback, wind streaking his hair to his skull and grinning like a madman, his favorite stead racing fearlessly. Lilia leaning against the railing of the balcony of Diasomnia dorm and watching the sunset, eyes fond and pink in the dying light. 

“I can’t think of a single present I have ever received that has been as thoughtful as this one. Your heart truly knows a kindness that is rare, my friend. But you are missing. Let us take one together. A selfie, yes?”  

[pinkroseblooms]

obsessedloner!Choso/chubby!f!Reader pt.2

Summary: in the second part to this modern college au, obsessive loner!Choso goes too far; reader deals with the consequences of his need to keep you close to him and him alone when he feels like you're at risk of gaining the attentions of an even more popular classmate. Yet another self indulgent piece of work, but sue me, I couldn't stop writing this all day. Enjoy!

Warnings: toxic behavior, obsessive/possessive behavior, jealousy, emotional manipulation, smut, mating press, rough sex, hurt/comfort, talks of low self esteem, clingy, needy!Choso, begging, crying, break downs, and borderline yandere!Choso, and other less than healthy relationship dynamics.

wc: 5.3k

The birthday cake was placed on the teacher’s desk: the majority of your speech class had decided that since Satoru Gojo’s birthday was coinciding with the last week of exams before break, it would be fun to have a small party. You volunteered to bake the cake; the professor gave permission to use his classroom that afternoon, with the condition the space was tidied up afterward and things didn’t get too rowdy. It was going to be a nice opportunity to celebrate the coming holiday season and the student who was arguably the school’s golden boy. Even those who didn’t like Gojo’s flippant arrogance and teasing nature admired his work ethic and almost supernatural intelligence, to say nothing of his undeniably pretty face. 

Choso was only there because he knew you were attending and in charge of bringing the requested birthday cake. He didn’t feel one way or the other about Gojo, but he would gladly be by your side, eager to hear the compliments your baking would receive and also to make sure no picky eaters decided to get nit picky and spoil your mood. Truly, Choso had been happy on your behalf to hear you had agreed to help with the party. He certainly wouldn’t think to go out of his way to do something like this for people he didn’t really know outside of a forty five minute, twice a week class. Choso was more than proud to be the boyfriend of a person so thoughtful and generous to a fault; it was one of the reasons he fell so hard in the first place. You never needed a special reason to be kind to someone. And of course, it helped that you were still the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life and the last few months had been nothing short of heaven.

Except, the cake was red velvet. Choso stands by the teacher’s desk, staring at the cake. It was his favorite flavor. He told you that not long ago and you had promised the first time you made it, it would be for him. 

The cake is beautifully, painstakingly decorated, a perfect ratio of cake and fluffy frosting, sprinkled in bits of dark chocolate; the matching icing spells out ‘Happy Birthday, Satoru!’ in delicate, looping letters across the top. You obviously put a lot of care into making this for Gojo. That afternoon you had been the first person to arrive, followed shortly by another student, Suguru Geto; he wasn’t in the same speech class, but he was Gojo’s best friend and knew some of the class already, so inviting him was a given. The two of you had left to find a lighter and candles, hoping the school store in the basement of the building would provide something suitable. You told Choso he didn’t need to come; you noticed he had seemed a bit drained from studying and his recently acquired part time job, so you insisted he just hang back and relax while you and Geto went to obtain the finishing touches for the cake. 

For the past two minutes Choso has stood in place where you left him, eyeing the cake so innocently sitting atop the cleared off desk. He didn’t know it would be red velvet. Gojo had a sweet tooth and would probably love it. 

Surely this is too much for just an acquaintance. The recipe is a lot more difficult than the stuff you’ve made before, Choso saw there were more steps and more factors that could go wrong and ruin the cake’s moist and spongy texture. Skeptically, Choso narrows his eyes at the round, two tiered dessert. Most of the girls in your shared class offered to bake, but you were the one with the most experience and Gojo had eagerly picked you for the task. You must have felt obligated to make the cake perfect.

Choso’s frown deepens; he is your boyfriend. You promised you would make a cake like this just for him. A gesture like this could easily be taken the wrong way too and you’re so sweet and self effacing, he’s sure the idea of Gojo choosing you to personally make his cake didn’t mean anything at all.

It should be for him.

“What…what happened?”

The smile fell from your lips mere seconds after returning from the school store; Geto, insisting on carrying the purchases, had just been relaying a funny anecdote of one of his and Gojo’s misadventures as the two of you walked back into the now empty classroom. On the ground, right next to the base of the professor's sturdy wooden desk is nothing short of a mess. 

“My cake,” your hands come up to cover your gaping mouth. “What happened?!”

Geto approaches the desk with a confused frown; the cake and the plate it had been placed on are both on the floor. It seemed to have fallen top first, the icing and frosting smeared over the tiles and the plate broken into pieces around it. 

“It fell.” Geto states simply, although not without some incredulity. “Was it close to the edge?”

“No, I, well,” you struggle to recall exactly where you had placed the cake before you left the room. “I didn’t think I put it that close to the edge.”

“There’s frosting streaks on the side too’ it must have just toppled over.” Geto points out with a keen eye, kneeling a bit, bags still in hand. “It might have just been a bit uneven, a little heavier to one side?” he stands to his full height and smiles at you sympathetically. “These things happen, just a little bad luck. I’m sorry, it was a beautiful cake.”

“But everyone’s going to be here soon,” you fret as you search through your bag. “Geto, I’m going to go buy another cake, there’s a store nearby, I’m sure they’ll have something. Oh and I’ll find a custodian, oh no, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe this is happening-”

“Let me go.” Geto places a hand over your tensed shoulder. “It makes more sense, I know what kind of cake Satoru prefers the most. There’s plenty of time and a few others promised to bring drinks and snacks.”

“But I said I’d bring the cake. At least let me give you the money for it?” you hold up a few bills with a pleading stare. “I feel horrible, I should have been more careful where I put it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up; you are the one who did the work to make it.” Geto chuckles but accepts the money if only to make you feel a bit more at ease. “Maybe it’s better this way: with how good that cake looked, I’d wager you might have ended up with that glutton badgering you for more sweets.”

You return his smile as well as you can. “Thank you. I’m just being silly.”

“You’re fine.” Geto says firmly, but not unkindly. “You call a janitor, don’t try to clean up this alone; we wouldn’t want you to get a cut from trying to pick up pieces of that plate. I’ll be back before you know it; Satoru would sulk all afternoon if I don’t get him something anyway.”

“You’re a good friend.” you smile at Geto gratefully. “Thank you, I’ll call someone right away.”

You do just that shortly after Geto takes his leave; most of the custodians have already left for the day, except for one woman. She promises to be there as soon as she’s done with a request from one of the professors in the neighboring building; she sounds pleasant enough, but you feel pangs of guilt as you hang up and take a seat closest to the teacher’s desk. 

“Bunny? Are you okay?”

“Choso, you’re back!” you look up and wave at him, trying to sound cheerful; he glances at the ruined cake and back to your pained smile. “Ah, were you looking for me? I guess we just missed each other, the basement elevator was out of order, so we took the stairs. What a mess, huh? Geto thinks one side was a little heavier and it made the cake just flop right over the edge. Some bad luck, right? He left to get a cake and the custodian will be here soon, so make sure not to step on the plate bits.”

“Hey, slow down. I’m not worried about that.” Choso’s brow furrows as he studies your shaky smile. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal, accident…accidents happen.”

You bite your bottom lip harshly as your eyes begin to sting; before you know it, tears are slowly slipping down your cheeks. You quickly avert your eyes, too embarrassed to see the pitying look cross Choso’s face.

“Oh Choso, I feel so stupid. I can’t believe I put the cake that close to the edge! Ugh, I should have paid more attention, I told everyone I would make this amazing cake and I messed it all up and now Geto has to go all the way to the stupid store to get another one because I wasn’t careful!”

“Did he get mad at you?” Choso asked sharply. “Did he blame you?”

“No, no, Geto didn’t do anything.”  you bow your head and wipe at your wet cheeks. “He was really nice about it, so was the janitor on the phone about the mess, but I still feel bad. Gojo was just telling me he was really looking forward to the cake too. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed to get a store bought cake and I promised I’d take care of this for the party. Sorry, I know I’m being a crybaby, I should just suck it up, I’m the one who ruined things, I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s not your fault.”

You raise your head and Choso is standing in front of the table between him and you; his hands are gripping tightly around the strap of his duffel bag. You wipe the last of your tears and look at him, your chest swelling at how upset he is on your account.

“You’re so sweet. Just having you to vent to makes me feel better already; I’m really just being dramatic, I’ve been stressed out and-”

“It’s not your fault.” Choso cuts you off quietly; he still isn’t looking at you. “It’s mine.”

“What? Baby, no, I didn’t expect you to watch the cake; it’s on me for not making sure it wasn’t so close to the edge, you didn’t do anything.”

“I pushed it.”

Choso’s knuckles are white: he’s strangling the strap of his bag between quivering hands. Finally, he looks into your bewildered eyes

“Choso, is this some kind of joke?” 

“I didn’t want him to have it and, and I thought he might get ideas since you worked so hard to bake it. He flirts with all the girls and you did say you were going to make it for me first.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” you shake your head and all but leap up from your chair. “You? How could you? And you were going to let me think it was my fault?!”

“No! It was supposed to look like an accident, I didn’t think you’d be so upset,”

“So it was okay for me to be ‘kind of’ upset? Choso, how could you?” you ask him again, voice raising, almost echoing in the empty room. “It’s just a cake!”

“Yeah, it’s just a stupid cake, that’s why I didn’t think you’d get this upset!”

Choso’s mouth clamps shut as your anger gives way to a look of utter hurt. 

“Wow.”

“I shouldn’t have said that-”

“Thanks a lot, Choso. Yeah, that really makes it better. Was that your plan? Swoop in and play the comforting boyfriend while I feel like a big idiot? Or maybe you just don’t consider my hobbies anything special; anyone can make a cake, right?” Fresh tears well up in your eyes as you tug your bag over your shoulder. “Nice to know what you really think.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Choso says reproachfully. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, you’re putting words in my mouth!”

“You know what?” you shake your head and unzip the front section of your bag; clumsily you yank out a sealed box and slam it down on the table. Choso recognizes it as one of the little boxes you use to pack individual desserts. “Here, your stupid cake. Surprise.”

The lid of the container is now sticking to the top of the cake but Choso can still make out the messy letters of his name and the heart shaped sprinkles scattered all over the surface. His eyebrows raise as he sees the small, squashed up cake is in the shape of a heart. You glare down at it before turning on your heel without so much as a backward glance.

“Bunny?” Choso snaps out of his trance and begins to follow you. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you.”

“I can explain, just calm down and let me-”

“Leave. Me. Alone!” you stop abruptly in the doorway and give him a nasty look, but you’re barely able to hold yourself back as Choso fixes you with a heartbroken stare. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down when you’re the one who threw a fucking tantrum. Enjoy the ‘stupid cake’, jerk!”

You slam the door in his face and rush down the hall to the nearest entrance, not particularly caring about where you’re going, just as long as you can get as much distance between you and Choso as possible. When you finally get home, you text Geto an apology for taking off and a nondescript explanation for your absence before turning your phone off. You’re exhausted and skip dinner to just curl up in your bed, burrowing in a blanket as if you could shut out the world. Choso’s t-shirt, the same one you’ve been sleeping in nearly every night, is balled up and thrown somewhere across the room; eventually you fall asleep, eyes rubbed raw and nose stuffed as you drift off, hoping maybe this was all just a bad dream.

When morning arrives and you manage to force yourself into a sitting position, it takes you a minute or two to realize the gentle knocking isn’t a leftover remnant from your deep slumber, but a very real sound coming from your front door. You wrap yourself in a robe and slip on a pair of house slippers, equally confused and irritated as to who could be knocking on your door when the sun is barely over the horizon. Just as the knocking stops, you peek through the peephole; there’s no one there. You rub your eyes and unlock your door with a sigh, expecting a leaflet from some early bird salesman or religious group to be stuck in the hinges. Instead you nearly trip over a huddled up mass taking refuge on your doorstep when you didn’t immediately open your door.

“Choso?! Oh my god, you scared me!” you’re still breathing a bit heavily, heart racing thinking a stranger had collapsed on your porch. “What are you doing here?”

“I,” Choso scrambles to his feet; you finally notice in his hands are two cups of coffee, one of which is your usual order, but the largest size. He holds it out to you. “Good morning. You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I turned it off.”

After a beat, you take the cup on autopilot, more preoccupied with the man standing at the threshold of your home. The circles under Choso’s eyes are darker than ever, in addition to how red and irritated they are around the edges, his hair is oily and limp. On closer inspection, you see he’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday; now they’re more wrinkled and the slight odor coming off them tells you he hasn’t showered yet. 

“Can I come in?” Choso asks, his voice weak and barely louder than a whisper. “I have to talk to you.”

“Fine.” you frown but move aside and open the door wider. “Here, come with me, I left my phone in my room.”

Choso does as he’s told, but trails after you at a slight distance, at least in comparison to how closely he usually stays to you. He’s shivering; it’s the middle of winter and he isn’t wearing even a jacket. How long had he been knocking on your door? How long had he planned to wait there outside? You banish the thought and busy yourself disconnecting your phone from its charger on your bedside table. Choso stands awkwardly in the middle of your room; he hasn’t taken so much as a sip of his coffee or taken his eyes off you, at least as far as you can see. 

“Did I wake you up?” he asks worriedly. “I’m sorry. I was going to wait but I thought you might have gone somewhere and you weren’t answering your phone, so…” he goes silent seeing his shirt in a crumpled heap in the corner of your room. “I just wanted to talk to you as soon as possible.”

You barely heard him, jaw dropping at your phone’s screen as it fully turns on to show you 32 missed calls, 15 unheard voicemails, 18 unopened texts, and 5 emails, all from Choso over the course of the night. You tap your thumb on the latest voicemail.

“Bunny? Bunny, can’t you just talk to me?” A shaky, nearly unrecognizable croaking comes from the speaker: Choso’s strong voice sounds strained, almost inaudible at certain points, as though he had been screaming until his throat was raw. “I know you’re probably sleeping…or maybe you don’t want to talk to me ever again-” A sharp, wrecked sob crackles over the speaker but Choso manages to steady himself again. “But I need to…I need to hear your voice. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so fucking sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me. I love you so much it hurts. I’m going to stop by tomorrow, I need to see you. I know I messed up, I need help. My bunny? I can’t…oh god, I can’t do this. I-I feel like I’m dying, I’m…I love you. I love you, I love you, just please-”

Your heart drops to your churning stomach as Choso’s words morph into broken, unintelligible sobs. Finally after a few seconds, the other end goes quiet and the voicemail ends. A recorded voice tells you there’s still 14 more previously skipped voicemails; Choso has remained standing, stiff as a board and looking miserably at you. You take a seat on the side of your bed, staring bewildered at your phone; you decide to not listen to the other voicemails.

“I’m sorry.” Choso says in an absurdly small voice. “Can we talk?”

You’re holding the coffee in your hands on your lap and taking a deep breath before raising your face. “Choso, why did you do it?”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you. I don’t think your baking is stupid. I was being stupid.” Choso’s cheeks burn in shame. “I was jealous Gojo was getting the cake first, or I thought he was, and I just…I didn’t want him to have it. It’s always like this.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him slowly, tempering your own indignation. “Do you think he would flirt with me? Or that I would cheat on you?”

“No. I just get so...everyone likes you. So, what if someone better comes along? What if you stop paying attention to me?” Choso shakes his head quickly, gripping his hair like he wants to yank it out. “I have thoughts like that all the time. It's awful. I knew you would be sad, but I really thought it would only be a little and then I could make it better and you would…rely on me more. I don’t want you to get close to anyone else.” he lowers his arm to his side limply. “I know it’s wrong. Are you gonna bre-break up with me?”

You don’t speak just yet; your eyes study his drawn, exhausted face. Choso isn’t trying to make you feel bad for him, you know that much. The truth doesn’t make you feel much better though. 

“I was really mad at you yesterday. I needed space.”

“I know, but-”

“Listen,” you say firmly. “Whatever the reason, that was a really rotten thing you did. It was just plain mean and selfish. Sure, you didn’t really mean to hurt me, but you did. You purposely messed up something I put a lot of work into.”

“I know.” Choso’s expression is desolate. “I like that about you. I love that you do nice things for people even if you don’t have to. Y-you’re so careful and considerate of other people. I was being selfish and it was so, so fucking stupid. You would never do something like that to me…you’re so good to me.”

“Choso, this isn’t just about yesterday.” you soften your tone, mindful of your volume. Choso looks as if one cold word from you could shatter him into a million pieces. “If you were willing to trash something I put a lot of work into for such a petty reason, it’s making me second guess things and now I’m wondering if maybe you’re not the person I thought you were. Is it more important to keep me dependent on you than for me to be happy?” You set your cup down on the nightstand, trying to keep your voice from cracking. “Maybe this isn’t going to work out.”

“Don’t say that.” 

Choso all but drops his coffee onto your dresser, barely glancing at it as he rushes to you; he lowers himself down on his knees, eyes glistening with both unshed tears and sheer adoration as he looks up at your pained face. You let him hold your hands, still folded in your lap, as Choso rests his forehead on your lap. They’re ice cold; how long had he been waiting outside?

“It’ll never happen again. It shouldn’t have happened at all. I know I could have just talked to you, I know you would have listened, but I didn’t even give you a chance, I just did what I wanted. I’m not nearly as kind as you.” Choso admits, words muffled as he buries his face into your thighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I need you. I’ll do whatever you say until you trust me again. Do you hate me?”

“Choso, I never hated you, I was just hurt.” you squeeze his hands gently. “The only reason I got so upset in the first place is because I love you so much. Hell, the cake for the party was more practice than anything so I could make you an even better cake. If you were worried, you should have just told me. You’re not some evil person from feeling jealous, but what you did was wrong. I really need to know that you understand where I’m coming from, I don’t want us to break up or anything. Did you really think I was trying to end things yesterday?”

Choso nods, head still resting on your thighs. “I thought you blocked me on everything. I thou-thought you didn’t ever want to see me again. I should have waited, Eso even said you probably just needed some space, but…I’m so used to being with you, texting you. I was going crazy.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to ghost you. And I’m sorry for calling you a jerk.”

“I am a jerk.”

“No, you acted like a jerk,” you nudge Choso’s shoulder to get him to look up; he does, taking in your face with those pleading puppy dog eyes you can never resist. “I forgive you. I love you baby, so, so much.”

“Bunny,” Choso’s lip wobbles and fat tears roll down his cheeks and chin, dripping onto your hands. “Thank you. I’m sorry I made you cry, just thinking about it makes me want to-to-” he sniffs and clenches his teeth against a whine. “I’m just sorry. I love you. I missed you so much. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were hurting because of me and I wanted to come here right away, but I thought if I did you’d really be fed up and-”

“You didn’t sleep?!” you slowly sit and move so you’re seated further up the bed; Choso follows suit, basically crawling over your pillows and covers to be next to you, tears still streaming down either side of his face. “Choso, lay down baby, you should take a nap. You’ll feel better, believe me. We can talk more later and get something to eat.”

“‘So good to me.” Choso tugs on your arm. “I want to cuddle.” He immediately moves over so you can hold him, laying on your sides as Choso stares balefully up at you through blurry eyes. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Choso, you need sleep.”

“Please?” he mutters, eyes lingering on your pouty mouth. “Need a kiss.”

“Okay, just a little one.”

“Thank you. You’re always so good to me…”

You knew those basset hound eyes would be the death of you: what started out as a tender, chaste kiss swiftly evolved into big hands massaging your breasts, then fingers tugging at the sash of your robe, and finally you being pushed onto your back as Choso holds you down in a mating press. 

“So good!” Choso can’t stop letting out choked moans, so loud, they almost drown out your cries, pushing your thighs closer to your chest, somehow, some way forcing his cock impossibly deep. There’s hints of pain but the pleasure you get from his cock head rubbing against that little spot just behind your clit was overriding all of it. 

“Baby, gotta slow down, you’ll break me at this rate.” you moan, helpless as Choso ducks his head down to lick and suck on your almost painfully sensitive nipples. He had been playing with them obsessively, pinching, rolling, sucking, even leaving dark love bites all over your breast.

“Love you, missed your pussy so much, thought I was gonna, gonna die!”

“Oh god, Choso, please, please baby, it’s too much!” your head lolls side to side; he’s made you cum three times already. Your pussy is a sopping wet mess and it’s all you can do to not pass out as Choso’s thick cock stretches you open over and over again, surely bruising your cervix. “You’re so-ah!” you let out a piercing shriek that only seems to spur him on to go harder. “So deep in my pussy baby, I can’t-”

“Just a little more, I’m so close,” Choso huffs, looking down at you with heavy lidded eyes, cheeks burning and hair sticking to his forehead; he’s a mess from his own sweat and your slick covering his pelvis where he just won’t stop pounding into you. “You look so good like this, I could fuck you forever…gonna cum so hard, give it all to you,”

“Cum in me,” you sweep his damp hair off his forehead with a faint, fucked out smile. “I want to feel it dripping out of me…can you be a good boy and cum in my pussy?”

“Yes, yes! Oh fuck, yes!”

Choso kisses you roughly, hips rolling into yours, barely pulling his cock out at all, as though he wanted his cum to go as deep inside you as it could go. It’s hot and spurting into your battered insides; thankfully Choso has enough strength left to hold you up as he humps your plush, limp body like a dog in heat. 

“Mine,” he groans, thrusting once more with a violent shudder. “Only mine.”

You suppose it’s not the best idea to encourage him, but you nod anyway, shaky hand in his hair to pet the tangled strands, chest heaving and light headed as Choso pulls his softening cock out slowly so as not to hurt you. He pants against your neck, curled into your side and using his wide palm to rub gentle circles over your hips and thighs.

“My poor bunny.” Choso mutters fondly as his fingers trail over your twitching thighs. “I’ll do better. You won’t regret this. I’m gonna get a bath ready for you, okay?”

“Th-thank you.”

“Sh, just relax, don’t get up.” Choso moves sluggishly to take the box of tissues from your nightstand; the coffee he brought you has somehow not been knocked off in the frenzy. “You’re so cute like this. I’ll wipe you off a bit first, nice and easy. Does it hurt down there?”

“Not really; feels more numb actually.” you roll your head to stare at him directly, meaning to look at least a little serious but you come off more like a grumpy kitten. “Don’t think just because you made me almost pass out that I forgot everything from the past 24 hours mister. I’m holding you to your word.”

“Yes ma’am.” Choso agrees with a hum as he wipes at the mess between your legs. “Thank you again…I still ate the cake you made for me. It was really good.”

“Oh right.”

“Yuji said you should have thrown it in my face.” Choso adds, a bit sheepish at the memory. “I almost didn’t eat it: I thought it would be the last thing you ever gave me…”

“Choso,” you smile at him sadly. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you?”

“Uh huh.” Choso brings you into his arms, careful not to jostle you too suddenly. “Just scared. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“Why are you scared? Do you still think I want to break up?”

Choso shrugs. “What if the more you get to know me, the more you see bad things?”

“What kind of bad things?”

“If…if I could, I’d keep you with me. Sometimes when we’re alone, I don’t want to let you go. Then I start wondering if trying to keep you safe will just make you unhappy with me or that I’ll scare you off and then…” A single tear escapes Choso’s eye and he draws you in closer to his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do. Compared to you, I’m really selfish and short sighted.”

“No one’s perfect. I’m not.”

“You're just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I overthink things and get worked up over upsetting people. I hold myself to unattainable standards.” you list off tiredly. “And I keep doing this thing where I shy away from letting people really…know me. Like if they do, I’ll just let them down. I feel like an imposter half the time when you say all these nice things about me. You’re the first person I’ve actually wanted to know me, warts and all. It’s worth getting to be with someone like you, Choso. That’s just how relationships work; you’re always risking getting hurt or disappointed when you let people love you…when you love someone. And I love you.”

“Um…is it bad that I feel happy I’m the only person you talk to like this?” Choso sniffles. “Sorry. I’m being selfish again.”

“Maybe a little, but for the right reasons.” you grin and wipe a thumb under his eye. “For the record, it makes me happy you think of me so highly. You make me feel special.”

“You are special and anyone who thinks otherwise is stupid.”

“Does that include me then?”

Choso looks visibly panicked. “Wa-wait, that’s not what I meant!”

“I know, I know, sorry baby.” you kiss him before he starts into another round of apologies. “That was just a little payback. Ah, Choso!”

“Not funny.” Choso grumbles, bundling you into the blankets as you giggle and let out a faux fearful squeal; the sly quirk of his lips betrays his actual intentions. “After your bath, I’m gonna give you a real reason to scream.”

[thehauntedetheral]

Can we get a yandere baker x reader pls?? 😭🙏 Thank you for your good stories like always

Thank you so much for your love. I hope you like this fic.

Yandere Baker

Requests are open !

• You got a new job. The same boring sitting in your cubicle and working on a screen. But the best part about your new job is a Bakery near your office.

• You were a regular customer there since the starting of your job as you have a strong sweet tooth. And on top of that their baked goods are so delicious that they are your new addiction now. They make the best pastries according to you.

• You go their everyday even on weekends as your house is near the office for their sweet treats that now the owner of the cozy bakery is your friend who always greets you with a cute smile. And not to forget that the baker himself was a treat for eyes with his apron, good looks, messy hairs and a boyish smile.

• Yan baker who has been owning this bakery for quite some years and is always busy with many customer. But you ... You are just awesome. The way your eyes sparkle while looking at all the baked goods kept at display, the way your face is glowing with a happy smile and vibes when you take the first bite of your pastry. This all makes him fall for you like a crazy.

• He always gives you freshly baked treats for free saying you are his "favourite customer."

• Always give you discount saying that this is for their all regular customers when in reality such thing doesn't exist.

• When he gets to know you love a specific pastry always make sure to bake them for you often even though it doesn't sell much.

• Bakes the most beautiful looking and delicious cake of your favourite icing and toppings for your birthday as a surprise.

• He loves weekends more because you stay at the bakery longer sipping coffee, reading book while enjoying coffee due to no office.

• One day you didn't came to the bakery which was very unusual so he goes to your house with a box of your favourites only to find out you are sick. (Yes this man and you spend time and talk so much in bakery that you both know a lot about each other even address. It's like you are best buddies.)

• Upon finding you sick he takes care of you and cook for you. This man's cooking skills are fantastic just like his baking skills.

• Names his new pastry after you. And also to mention that you were the first one to taste it.

• Yan once heard you saying that you wanted to learn baking one day. So after few weeks this man opens a baking class for afternoon weekends just for you to join. Tries his best to make you join his class.

• You asked him how all of a sudden he started classes. He only replies with "I love baking and I wanted my afternoons on weekends to get occupied by something".

• He is the happiest in the class teaching a bunch of people because you are their and his baking. His favourite person and thing to do of his under one roof.

• You and him would enjoy doing baking while dancing, singing to the music put on after class. (Some Kind of your own personal baking class 🤭). Yan would just stare looking at you doing all this thinking he is so lucky to even be near you.

• This man is so badly down for you. Your one smile or compliment on his baking he would becomes a puddle of blushing happiness .

• After mustering up enough courage he finally knocks at your door holding your favourite cake in his hand freshly baked by him and a question written with icing on it "Will you go on a date with me? Yes or absolutely yes"

• Well after all how could you say no to such a tempting offer including a delicious cake with a good looking baker holding it, right?

Requests are open!

Part 2 :

For more yandere reading:

[rlimagi]

Life was Sweet

Pairings: Queen of Hearts x Reader

Request: hi!! could i request the queen of hearts x mad hatter!reader, whos known her since before the prank, and still stuck around with her because theyre loyal. and theyre always trying to help her open up and have a little fun, so she can be her true self again!

Genre: Fluff

Note: it was kinda hard to write for the Queen of Hearts as only her mean side was shown but I truly believe that Bridget is still in there somewhere.

You had been by The Queen of Heart’s side even before she was The Queen of Hearts. Your best friend used to be Bridget, one of the sweetest princess in Merlin academy.

But now, in everyone else’s eyes, she was the cruelest Queen there had ever been. ‘Off with their heads’ rolls down her tongue as natural as walking for a normal person.

Any normal human would turn their backs against the Queen once they knew it was too late for her to be the sweet Bridget again, but you were never normal.

“Bridget, you’ve gotta stop being so harsh on Red.” You tried to reason with the Queen as she walked around your room and you were starting to feel dizzy.

It was midnight when a sudden explosion bursted your doors open, revealing the Queen of Hearts. Then 2 hours later, she was still in your room complaining about her daughter while touching and messing up your precious stuff.

“I told you to address me by my title!” The Queen glared at you but you chose to ignore her fiery gaze, no matter how much she threatened to chop your head off you knew she would never find the heart to do so. No matter how small it became. “And last time I checked, she is my daughter! Not yours!”

“She might as well be, I helped raise her!” You shouted, startling Bridget and even yourself at the outburst. You muttered an apology before taking a sip of focus potion to wake you up fully. You were so out of it after only getting 2 hours of sleep.

“Whatever, the point is she’s only a kid, she’s in the phase where she needs to figure out who she is. And who she is definitely isn’t you.” You slowly approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder In comfort while also trying to knock some sense into her.

“Remember when we were teenagers and all the fun we had? Your parents were never as controlling as you are with Red. Maybe we should bake cakes together again like the good old days!”

“Fun? I remember how much fun they all had when I was weak, gullible, and humiliated! Luckily you were sick or you might as well be dead to me like everyone else that was there!” The Queen exclaimed, her hands laid on a knife you were heating up earlier.

Your heart sunk deeper at the reminder of the day when your lives changed forever. You and Bridget had always been friends, since babies. Your parents practically raised you both together as both of your Kingdoms were united.

Ella came in view when you and Bridget arrived at Merlin academy, in a way she was her own person but she just felt like one of you guys so it wasn’t surprising how quickly the three of you got along.

Your friendship was great, well until one fateful day when everything changed. For worse.

The three of you planned to go to the dance together seeing as Bridget badly wanted to go, you and Ella never really liked those things but agreed to go anyways, for Bridget.

Just a day before the night of the dance, you had gotten terribly sick and chose to stay in your shared dormitory with Bridget. Your friends wanted to stay and look after you but you didn’t want to ruin their fun, especially Ella after you overheard Prince Charming talking about asking her out to dance.

If only you knew the outcome, you would’ve begged them not to leave your side.

A few hours after the night started, you were woken up by loud noises wandering around your dorm. You couldn’t make out who it was as you were too sick to move, but you knew it was Bridget from the second she mumbled about getting revenge of some sort.

But that was it, after that night, you weren’t getting any better so your parents took you back home to let the family doctor take care of you.

When you became healthy enough to go back to school, everything changed. Everyone avoided Bridget as if she was a plague, even Ella. And it pained you that you never asked what really happened, all you knew was that you’ll be by Bridget’s side no matter what.

So when King Beast and Queen Belle decided to unite all the Kingdoms, only yours and Bridget’s Kingdom rejected their peace offering. And as a result, your Kingdom and hers were forever blocked from ever going out of your Kingdom’s land.

“Bridget! Are you alright?” You immediately dropped all your belongings and rushed to her aid. The Queen flinched in pain when you accidentally pressed on her wound, “Sorry!”

You gently pulled her to sit down on a chair before using your free hand to grab one of your healing potions. “This is going to stink for a while. Are you okay?” you gently held her hand before looking up, right into her eyes. The same eyes you would get lost in every time you looked, and she looked at you the same way.

Suddenly it was like she was a teenage girl again, when life was sweet. Remembering the sparks that would go off whenever you held her hands as you placed on a bandage when she accidentally burnt herself while you guys were on your weekly baking date. The way you would hold her so warmly that all her senses would go off and all she wanted to do was be in your arms forever.

The feelings she had that got locked up when she became the Queen of Hearts, what she didn’t know was that she had already taken yours and you had forgotten it too.

You both came back to your senses when the sound of a thunder was heard, immediately moving apart from each other. You dropped her hand in panic and she was starting to miss that feeling. And she didn’t like feeling that feeling one bit.

“Oh, umm…do you want to bake a cake together? Unless you want cookies or cupcakes or both!” Your question was more like a demand since you gave her no chance to speak, grabbing her hands while ignoring the old butterflies that had finally grew wings again.

“We’re going to make cookies!” You claimed once you and Bridget arrived at your kitchen, you usually prefer for your bakers to make whatever you desire but baking it yourself just felt perfect at this time around.

The whole situation felt awkward at first, you weren’t used to being the one talking. Bridget was usually the one who starts and ends the conversations, mostly ranting about problems in her own Kingdom and her daughter.

But ever since that moment you shared, she had been quiet and weird, it was like her body was there but she wasn’t quite herself. It wasn’t too bad since she actually did help with mixing up the ingredients. But you really hated feeling awkward around your best friend. You terribly wanted to break the ice, so you did.

“Oh, you got something there.” You slowly headed her way, reaching out near her face pretending to get a non existent thing off her face. “Right…there! Ah HAH!” you grinned as you threw flour to her way.

Bridget stayed still, at first you thought that that would be the end of your precious head but then you saw a smile grew on her face as she did the same back. “I’m not letting you get away so easily!”

After almost 17 years, you finally found a way to see old Bridget again. You really never appreciate the small moments until it is taken away from you.

“Game on, my Queen!”

Half an hour later and the whole kitchen was filled with flour, the room was basically whiter than Snow White herself. You and Bridget laughed all night before taking a break on the floor.

“Remember when we used to have those weekly baking dates and it would always end up with flour all over the place?” You reminisced of your younger days as you settled yourself down next to Bridget. Leaning on her shoulders gently, a habit of yours since long long ago.

“Your mother would get so disappointed and made us clean it ourselves but we still did it again. Of course I remember.” Bridget smiled but not like the smile she usually does when ordering guards to cut people’s head off, this was different, genuine, and for a moment you saw the same look she used to hold before everything changed.

The look that had you lost in time and all you could do was look at her like she was the only one who existed in your world.

“I love you.” You nervously blurted out. One of the things you hated the most since birth was hiding your own feelings, it was suffocating, especially since you were hiding from the person you practically spent your whole life with.

And for a moment, you thought she won’t feel the same way. After all, you guys never addressed the situationship you had going on. It was greatly pushed aside after all the problems Bridget faced after that sorrow night.

“You do?” The Queen’s eyes grew soft as she looked back at you, her hands gently caressing your face.

“I always have, and always will. I loved you since that day you defended me from those bullies even though they were twice your size, we were twelve. You were always the sweetest, even to people who never deserved it.” You chuckled, it was bittersweet but at least you and Bridget had always been by each other’s side, no matter what.

Even if, for the past 20 years you guys had to push aside your true feelings for each other.

“I planned to come clean about my feelings to you years ago but as you know, time loves to mess with u-“ your words were cut off when Bridget leaned in, using her finger to lift your chin up before pulling you in for a long much needed kiss.

The softness of her lips almost took your breath away. The longing and desperate feelings that had been built up were release as you melted into her hold.

[boorines]

what pet names (if any) do you think the svt members would use? ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

this is such a cute ask ahh!! sorry it took literal ages to get to, i’ve had the worst case of writer’s block and i’m slowly working through my reqs!

-

Pet names seventeen would call you

—

SEUNGCHEOL

doll. you’re his world and he’d spoil you to no end. every thing you’d want would become yours and you’d never have to lift a finger. he’d dote on you so much and all he’d expect in return is your love, you’d be his lovely doll.

“look at what i got, doll. you like it? do you think it’s pretty? it’s for you”

JEONGHAN

angel. of course, the angel needs his twin flame. you’d be his angel and his partner in crime. you both have your mischievous, devilish streaks too, so the nickname would be perfect. to him you’re angelic and could do no wrong, even when you’ve baked a cake but won’t let him touch it yet.

“angel, you’re being so mean. just one look? i promise i won’t take a bite”

JOSHUA

love. simple and sweet. he prefers to use ‘love’ because it’s exactly what he feels for you and he wants you to know it, remember it all the time. you���re his love and he wants to shower you in it as much as he can.

“mm, i’ll be there in 10. of course, love, i’ll pick it up for you, i love you, too”

JUN

beautiful. jun is in awe of you. you’re breathtaking to him and he’s going to make sure you know it. he’d call you beautiful so often it becomes a nickname for you. neither of you realise when it happens until you’re being called beautiful for the 5th time in the day.

“there’s a fresh towel on the bed for you, beautiful. you don’t need to find a new one”

SOONYOUNG

babe. simple but sweet. he also uses your name often, he says it softly and gently, like it’s his favorite word. he’ll still follow up with a ‘babe’, though. and if he’s within arm’s distance of you he’s definitely punctuating his sentence with a squeeze of your hand or waist.

“babe, we can do the laundry later, it’s so warm in bed, stay just 5 more minutes? please…”

WONWOO

pretty. to wonwoo, you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. it comes so naturally to him, especially when you are the embodiment of the word in his eyes. you could be sat on the couch flicking through apps mindlessly when you’ll hear him call for you. whether it’s to ask for help or just for the sake of having your attention on him.

“want to play a couple of games later, pretty? or watch a movie? what are you feeling?”

JIHOON

your name. jihoon has a way with words, he pours meaning into every single one he speaks. so to him nothing comes close to the love and meaning he puts into saying your name. it would be tender and loving and it would be yours.

“do they fit well, does it pinch at your ankle? they’re very pretty, ____. i’ll get them for you”

MINGHAO

gorgeous. an almost sensual nickname that rolls off his tongue so easily. it shows just how lucky he feels to have you and it makes your cheeks heat up every time you hear it. he particularly loves seeing you flustered when he springs it on you when you least expect it.

“you’re at lunch with your friends today, right? need me to drop you and pick you up after, gorgeous?”

MINGYU

baby. a classic name for a hopeless romantic. something about you being his baby makes him melt and he just can’t get enough of saying it. you feel so cherished when he uses it and he loves the rush of warmth and pride he gets calling you it. often comes with a sudden back hug, maybe even a pout if he’s wanting your attention.

“please, baby, can we watch just one more episode. it’s only 2am… baby…”

SEOKMIN

buttercup. this is SO seokmin. you’re delicate and pretty like a flower to him. and combined with the fact that he’d love being called sunshine or honey? you both are so sunny and bright together.

“i found them! i found the keys, oh my god they were under the cabinet, buttercup. can you believe that?”

SEUNGKWAN

my sweetheart. seungkwan would use ‘my’ a lot, he would love the intimacy as well as the slight possessiveness that comes with the word. my love, my darling, etc. he’d be a sucker for calling you his and showing you off to everyone that way.

“you’re always the most beautiful in the room. let me introduce you to everyone, my sweetheart, hm?”

VERNON

babe. also keeps it simple. he’s more about subtle affection and wants his actions to speak louder than his words. a soft ‘babe’ accompanied by a gentle tap on your knee to wake you up when you doze off on the sofa, another call while he wordlessly points out something on his phone. he’s all about showing, not telling.

“babe, how many eggs should i put in for two ramen packs?”

CHAN

darling. he’s so affectionate with you it’s unbelievable. while he isn’t one for over the top romance, his affection comes through in so many other ways. when he wordlessly refills glasses of water for you throughout the day or throws a towel in the dryer so it’s nice and warm for you after your shower.

“i’ll tidy up, darling. you get ready for bed, yeah?”

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

III ║ Edgestitch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part II: Threads | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, flirting, mention of food and drink, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7k

Notes: It's here! This one was a long and winding road as I mentioned in Behind the Seams, I'm so relieved and excited when it all finally clicked and fell into place! I'm absolutely blown away by the love you guys have shown Joel and Pin so far, thank you, there's no greater motivation for a writer ❤️ I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

‘Damnit, Lucy,’ you mutter under your breath, this close to stamping your foot and pouting at the door that refuses to lock up. 

Lucy may be your best friend, but you’re not blind to the fact that she literally cannot be trusted to get anything done around the shop. It’s been two weeks since she promised to get the locksmith to come in, but here you are on Friday evening, wrestling with the key that refuses to turn the last quarter of an inch in the faulty lock.

‘Hey, Pin!’

Glancing over your shoulder, you force a wane smile at Tommy, who has his hands full with a cardboard box at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Need some help?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply sheepishly.

You nod at the bottles of wine that clink delicately against one another as he sets them down. ‘Getting ready for the party on Sunday?’

Tommy steps up to the door and wriggles the key left and right experimentally. ‘Yeah, you comin’, right?’

‘Yes, with Lucy.’

‘Good, the more the merrier!’ He makes a face at the door lock, which is not cooperating with him either. ‘You should get someone to look at it. Probably time for a new one.’

‘Lucy was supposed to get Andrew to fix it, but you know Luce.’

Tommy yanks the door knob backwards hard as he twists the key. There’s a grunt of metal, and a triumphant aha! when it finally turns, the internal mechanisms of the lock sliding into place with a satisfying click. 

You nearly fall onto your knees in relief. ‘Thank you so much, Tommy. You’re a lifesaver.’

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

His brother, who was so solid and broad under you on the studio floor, just a few days ago. His brother, who you can still feel pressed between your thighs, in your bed in the dead of night. His brother, who has taken up residence in your mind, waking or otherwise, since he sauntered out of your shop with that infuriatingly attractive confidence when he asked you to to wear those jeans for him again on Sunday.

Joel has existed solely and safely in the parameters of your workspace for the past fortnight and a half, with only Lucy bearing witness to whatever it is between the two of you. Having to suddenly deal with any mention of him outside of it, especially with that knowing arch of Tommy’s eyebrow, has you completely flustered. It doesn’t help that his eyes are uncannily like Joel’s, a gorgeous deep brown, expressive and sharp, though the mischief sits a lot closer to the surface in the former’s.

Mercifully, your brain unscrambles long enough for you to reach the conclusion that of course, Joel must have told Tommy that he invited you and Lucy. It’s their party, after all. Surely, he doesn’t know anything else -

Or does he?

You’ve been quiet for too long to say anything about it now, so you clumsily change the subject, stumbling over your words. ‘I, uh - I was just wondering what I could bring on Sunday?’

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

You latch on to that gratefully. ‘I do - what kind of cake were you thinking?’

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

You perk up. ‘It’s my favourite!’

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

With a wink, Tommy bends down to pick up the wine. ‘See you in a couple of days, Pin!’

At least you have the decency to wait until he turns the corner - once he does, you sprint across the road to the Jackson Grocer’s and clear out their stock of carrots for the day.

There are many things about Jackson that throw Joel. 

The plentitude after years of rations. The safety, which comes off more jarring than comforting.

But most of all, it’s the sounds. The kettle on the boil and the pop of the toaster in the morning when Ellie gets ready for school. Friendly chatter on the high street. Laughter. It still makes him jump when he hears playful shrieks in the neighbourhood playground, blood rushing in his ears and sending him halfway across the house for his rifle before he remembers where he is.

Where he is not.

It was always loud in the QZ. Loudspeakers blaring, alarms wailing, the indistinct hum of conversation and radio through paper thin walls in the slums at all hours of the day. And he was always listening - for danger, for trouble, and everything in between.

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

Joel finds it hard to remember those first few days after leaving Boston behind. Mostly the raw cuts on his knuckles that wouldn’t heal and the ring in his right ear from the explosion, lingering like a pesky fly. 

But he knows it was Ellie who broke that silence first. And once that door was kicked down - 

‘Fuck no, dude!’

His face snaps up and he scowls across the lawn, the stern reprimand rolling off his tongue like second nature. ‘Ellie!’

She’s sitting with her friends, crowded around her most prized possession of the moment, a boombox she found in the thrift shop a couple of months ago and begged him to buy and fix up for her. 

Not that she needed to do much begging, he caved far too easily. It plays a bit wonky - the bass too heavy - still, it does the trick.

The teenagers around her cower immediately, but she defiantly stands her ground. ‘What?’

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

She rolls her eyes so hard her head falls back, and he has to press his lips together to not smile.

It helps him sleep better at night seeing Ellie fit right in - at least one of them has. She doesn’t hate going to school half as much as she pretends to, the routine of homework and chores anchoring her to small town life. She’s even volunteered to help out at the farm, spending most afternoons in the stables with the horses.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

And while Joel still hasn’t made up his mind about Jackson, its townsfolk seem to have unilaterally made theirs up about him. The wary whispers and watchful stares have given way to cautious gestures of acknowledgement, some even bold enough to throw a good morning in his general direction as he walks down the street. 

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

The expectant parents have gone all out for the occasion. Several tables are lined up end to end in the middle of the garden, filling up with potluck dishes as guests arrive. Tommy lords over the barbeque, the brisket having been smoking since dawn, with chicken, bacon and homemade sausages sizzling on the grill. Maria is in her element, flitting from well wisher to well wisher with a protective hand over her rounded belly, making sure everyone has a drink and a loaded plate in hand.

Joel hovers in no man’s land, dodging the crowds and sipping on beer that has long gone flat, trying to remember the last time he celebrated anything. 

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

A strong hand on his back jolts him forward and out of his thoughts, spilling lukewarm beer over his fingers.

‘Havin’ a good time, brother?’ asks Tommy jovially, cheeks stretched with joy.

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

Tommy grins. ‘Lighten up, man. Get drunk, be merry! You’re gonna be an uncle.’

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Thumping his chest in mock hurt, he asks, ‘What about all those times I babysat Sarah, man?’

Joel gives him a long-suffering side stare. ‘Please. You used to hire that college chick ‘cross the street to babysit whenever you were supposed to. Then you’d hit on her all night long.’

Tommy chuckles. ‘Damn, your mind’s in better shape than I give you credit for, old man.’

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

He goes quiet for a beat and takes a sip of his beer, his eyes softening. ‘I think about that girl every single day, y’know.’ 

Joel nods, staring into his own beer, and it suddenly strikes him that he’s missed the shape of her name on his lips. ‘I know.’

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

Tommy chortles just as the backdoor to the porch swings open with a loud creak.

Joel spots you easily, trailing one step behind Lucy. You’re holding onto a cake on a round wooden board like a security blanket, shoulders tense and eyes wide at the noise of the festivities. Spotting Maria, Lucy bounds down the stairs, leaving you hesitating at the landing, and -

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

Something primal swells in the cavity of his chest, between his ribs - a pride that is distinctly male.

Tommy shouts, ‘Pin! Over here!’

Joel shifts on his feet, swallowing thickly as you approach. If your shy smile is anything to go by, he’s not the only one feeling the nerves.

His brother gives you a careful hug around the cake and plants a kiss on your cheek. When he steps aside, Joel hesitates, uneasy with having an audience, his palms suddenly clammy with indecision.

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought - 

Tommy elbows him in the ribs and puts him out of his misery. ‘Why don’t you kids catch up, I think the brisket’s burnin’. Have fun tonight!’

Joel can feel the tip of his ears turning red as he stands there with his drink, one hand shoved in his back pocket, not knowing how to do this. How to entertain. Clearing his throat, he stammers, ‘Uh - can I get you a drink or somethin’?’

You give him a small smile, lips moving in an answer too quiet to reach him over the music. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he admits, ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m uh - a bit deaf in my right ear.’

You look apologetic, speaking up, ‘I’m sorry - I didn’t know.’

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

You pinch your lips, and he recoginses that face - he knows that you want to disagree with him. But you hold your tongue, skirting around him to his good ear, and he stoops to close the distance, even though he doesn’t need to.

Your breath brushes his ear. ‘I’d love a drink, but I want to put this cake away first.’

‘Yes, of course - sorry, don’t know where my manners went.’ He puts his unfinished beer away and takes the cake from you despite your protests. The potluck table is packed to the brim, so he gestures towards the house. ‘It might have to go into the kitchen for now.’

You follow him, side by side with one polite body width between you, past bands of neighbours and friends catching up, the fairy lights catching your eyes and the well-kept lawn crunching beneath your soles. Unsurprisingly, you feel the weight of curious stares on your back as you go - Joel is still very much a novelty around town. Neither of you speak until he holds open the backdoor for you to slip inside.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, the muted conversation outside a low hum through the double-glazed windows. The free-standing island is already chock full of all kinds of baked goods and pudding, and Joel has to move an actual jelly castle (which wriggles precariously) to free up space for your contribution.

Dusting his hands, Joel turns to you. ‘That carrot cake?’

You nod, keeping mum.

‘It’s my favourite.’

‘I know - Tommy told me,’ you confess with a bashful half-shrug.

His warm eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘Talkin’ about me behind my back, sweetheart?’

Your breath quickens at the sweetheart, and you wonder if the thrill of the nickname will ever wear thin. Emboldened, you tilt your head to one side and tease, ‘Why? You like the attention?’

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

And there you are again - with nothing more than a dozen words exchanged and even more unsaid - on the brink of something, right where you left off on the workshop floor.

‘Wanna grab a bite to eat?’

Tucked away in an intimate corner of the back porch in a wicker chair, Joel surveys the party with a seriousness that is borderline comical. 

The strategist in him clearly favours the higher ground the porch affords him so he can keep an eye on everyone and spot whoever approaches from a distance. His seat is an easy three steps to the door, an escape plan in his back pocket. For all his stillness, the intensity is unmistakable, if slightly out of place in a baby shower.

Two dirty plates licked clean are stacked on the coffee table between you, piled high with bones and leftover gravy, the delicious food sitting warm in your stomach.

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

Your shoulders quake with a chuckle. ‘I think you’re too much of a gentleman to do that, Joel Miller.’

You’re taken aback by the flash of heat in his answering glance, as if there’s something he wants to say. But then, he changes his mind and leans back in his chair, one palm resting on his spread thighs, and he nods towards a couple standing close to the barbeque.

‘Who’s that over there? He lives on my street.’

‘That’s Andrew. He owns the only hot tub in Jackson.’

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

‘To be fair, it came with his house, but he managed to connect it to the water a few months ago.’

He snorts. ‘Not very communist of him to divert public resources for a private hot tub.’

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

He arches an eyebrow at you. ‘A cynic, sweetheart?’

You reply matter-of-factly, ‘We all know how communism ended.’

Fuck. He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. A woman after his own heart.

‘You want to keep him on your good side though. He’s really handy with electrics and the like.’

He shrugs. ‘So am I.’

You turn to him, surprised. ‘Oh?’

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

He notices your attention flicker to his hands, before you catch yourself and look away bashfully. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘You need things fixed?’ he asks, and promptly wants to kick himself for sounding so hopeful to be of service.

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip thoughtfully. You have to work on asking for things, but it’s ok - he doesn’t push you. He files that away for later.

Glancing across the yard, he catches Ellie’s eye, who’s arching an inquisitive eyebrow and pointing straight at you with all the subtlety of a flying brick. He knows he should probably introduce you at some point, but he’s not ready to share your attention with someone else just yet, let alone the nosy teenage loudmouth.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

Ignoring her for now - and knowing that he’ll pay for it later - he asks you, ‘And who’s that in the red dress?’

You crane your neck until you spot her. ‘Ah, that’s Patricia. She’s the dance teacher down at the school.’

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

You shoot him an amused grin. ‘Why, it looks like you’ve caught the fancy of our local femme fatale.’

He scoffs. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘Well, she’s been married and divorced three times since she arrived,’ you answer with a straight face. ‘The last one just disappeared. Never found his body.’

Joel stares at you in stunned silence, until you let out a poorly contained giggle. He grumbles, ‘Havin’ fun pullin’ my leg, sweetheart?’

‘Just a bit,’ you tease.

‘I liked you better when you were shy,’ he ribs.

You shrug. ‘Too late. You don’t scare me anymore.’

Glancing the other way, Joel sits up in alarm at the flutter of crimson fabric. ‘Shit, I think she’s comin’ this way.’

‘Time for carrot cake?’ you prompt.

He’s out of his chair quicker than you’d expect his knees would allow him to. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

The state of the kitchen island stops you in your tracks, while Joel lets out a low whistle behind you. ‘Jackson really turned out for this party, huh?’

‘Well, your brother and sister-in-law are pretty popular around town,’ you quip.

You didn’t think it was possible, but every square inch of the kitchen island is now jam-packed with sugary confections, stacked on top of one another.

‘I can’t even find the bloody cake,’ you laugh, literally searching high and low as you skirt the parameter.

On the other side of the island, Joel tosses a dry good luck in your direction and puts the dirty plates and cutlery that he brought in into the sink with a clatter, turning on the hot water. You stutter to a stop opposite him, gawking at how his broad shoulders fill the frame of the window that sits in front of the sink, before your gaze inadvertently trails south - over the nip of his waist and the hem of his shirt skirting the back pockets of his jeans. You find yourself wishing he’d tucked the tails in.

Rooted to the spot, you watch him unbutton the cuffs on his flannel shirt and push up the sleeves to the crease of his elbows, baring his strong forearms. Your mouth goes dry despite the wine you’ve been sipping on all evening, peering at the sinewy muscles flexing and straining as he lathers the plates with an offhand familiarity, his thick fingers dwarfing the sponge in as he works the grease stains. 

Making quick but thorough work of the washing up, Joel dries the plates and then runs the tea towel over his big hands and wrists, catching you staring as he turns around. If he knows you’ve been watching all along, he lets it slide. Tossing the towel to one side, heat prickles under your cheeks when he sidles up to you with the clean plates.

The sight of this man doing something as mundane as dishes really shouldn’t get you this hot and bothered.

‘Is that cream cheese?’ he asks conversationally with a nod at your cake, which you have found sitting on top of a tall plastic caddy, a chocolate cake inside.

Having to consciously unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you’re surprised your voice doesn’t shake. ‘It’s not carrot cake without it.’

‘Where did you get the cream cheese? Never seen any ‘round town.’

Almost bashful, you admit, ‘I made it.’

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

‘And the walnuts?’ he asks.

‘Someone I know grows it,’ you say vaguely.

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Biting your bottom lip, you can pinpoint the exact moment he figures it out, brows drawing together in a frown. ‘The only ones I’ve seen are outside the walls, ‘round the north side of the gates.’

Knowing for a fact that you’re a terrible liar, you don’t even try. You choose to ignore him, idly smoothing the frosting on top with a clean knife, trying not to flinch at the weight of his gaze on you.

‘Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t go outside just to get walnuts for me.’

‘Not for you,’ you shoot back unconvincingly, flustered. ‘I made the cake for Tommy and Maria.’

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

His shoulders stiffen, the fabric of his shirt bunching with the movement. ‘You can’t just go outside like that, y’know, there could be infected ‘round -’

‘Joel, I’ve been living here for years, I know what I’m doing,’ you argue huffily, not expecting a lecture, of all things. ‘I’m not stupid.’

He shakes his head. ‘Ain’t what I’m sayin’, Pin -’

‘Just leave it, ok?’ you reply sharply and, signalling an end to the conversation, you slice into the cake with an aggressive stab - not noticing that it is hanging over the edge of the caddy below. 

You squeak when it flips unceremoniously, and on pure impulse, you pitch forward to stop its upward trajectory, meeting it mid-air with an ominous splat.

‘Fuck!’

To his credit, Joel barely skips a beat, quickly but calmly grabbing hold of the cake board and pulling it off you, setting it down on the counter, while you gape in dismay at the damage done. 

The side of the cake that made contact with you is smushed in, most of the thick frosting now painted all over your front, from your neck down to the lovely, thin cashmere top that Lucy picked out for you for the party.

You really hope there’s a big guy up there watching, because someone might as well enjoy this mortifying brand of comedy you keep dishing out around this man.

Two seconds more, and you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst into tears for lack of knowing what else to do - but without another word, Joel takes the lead, wrapping a firm hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen. 

You gratefully let him.

It’s none of your business really, but it comforts you that Joel’s obviously here often enough to know his way around the house.

You glance around the dimly lit room where he deposited you on the edge of a neatly made bed, water trickling in the adjoining ensuite. When he returns, he has a small, wet towel in his hands. Towering over you, the low lights don’t quite reach his face, but you can see the way his gaze slips downwards, carefully, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

But he doesn’t - not even when he slides the crook of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up and opening up your throat.

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes you at the absurdity of the situation. ‘Must something always go wrong whenever we’re in the same room?’

The corner of his mouth teases a smile. ‘Never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

You smile back, but it falters when his eyes burn in a quiet but unmistakable smoulder. 

‘May I?’

You’re not even sure what he’s asking. But he can ask you anything in that raspy, low baritone, and there will always only be one answer.

At your nod, Joel drags the tip of his index finger down the column of your neck, and your lips part when it glides over your windpipe - pressing just hard enough for you to feel the pressure - collecting the velvety frosting as it goes. 

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

You’re sitting down, but somehow, you still feel your knees give way at how he smacks his lips at the sugary aftertaste.

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean. 

At the prospect of those plush lips and the burn of his silvered, patchy beard on your skin, your head tilts further back invitingly. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, like he’s picking up on what you’re thinking, and his eyes dip to your mouth.

But he doesn’t.

You don’t even have time to be disappointed before Joel carefully gets down on one knee in front of you, one palm landing on the mattress next to your hip for balance. Knowing the state of his joints, you want to ask if he needs a pillow, but instead of your mouth, it’s your thighs that part to make room for him. His chest keeps them splayed open, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his ribcage with each breath through the denim. 

You try to focus on your own breathing as Joel presses the wet towel to your skin and mops up the sticky mess, his face set seriously as he cleans you up inch by inch. But all you can think about is how you can feel the imprint of his fingers through the thin fabric, and how the span of his hand can easily fit over the column of your throat -

You don’t realise you’re leaning into him until he draws back when he’s done, and you tip forward, chasing his touch. His knee groans as he stands up to his full height, and he nods towards the bathroom with a wait here in his eyes.

The water is scalding as Joel washes out the frosting from the towel, but he keeps his hands under the tap, longer than he needs to. Wringing it dry, he takes a moment, wet palms gripping the cold porcelain edge of the bathroom sink, shoulders hunched over as he tells himself to calm the fuck down.

Except, he is calm. He’s held back, even when you looked at him with such straightforward, honest want that has him grinding his teeth.

Thing is, he knows you would’ve let him nudge you backwards into the mattress and crowd you between his arms, switching places the two of you were in under your sewing desk in the workshop.

He knows you would’ve let him wrap your legs around his hips, sliding his palms up the back of your thighs in those skin tight jeans - the sight of which is enough to make his head spin - and he knows you would’ve let him nip, suck, lick the tangy buttercream off your very neck. 

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

That last realisation awakens something he’s not so sure he has a handle on. But he knows for a fact that with the whole of Jackson milling about downstairs, in the middle of his brother’s baby shower, is neither the place nor the time.

You’re where he left you when he steps back into the bedroom, your palms planted on the bed, your shoulders relaxed. The neckline of your blouse gapes loosely, teasing the soft skin of your cleavage.

Joel breaks the loaded silence with a bit of common sense. ‘You best get that top off and soak it in the bath before the stains really set in, sweetheart.’

You bite your lip hesitantly. ‘I - I don’t have anything to change into.’

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

You sit up, attention piqued, when his hands move to the top of his flannel, thick fingers sliding each button out of the holes one by one. You know he’s just taking off his shirt, but you can’t help the way your jaw goes slack, watching shamelessly, the comforter twisting in your grip as you scrabble for something to hold onto. 

Joel doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, but it’s so flattering to watch you watch him, eyes hooded and your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, like he’s giving you a fucking strip tease or something. 

Goddamn if it doesn’t go straight to his head.

A white undervest comes into view, inch by inch, as the shirt falls open, the thin fabric pulled taut at the seams over the broad stretch of his chest. When the last button is undone, he shrugs the shirt off with a smooth roll of his arms, and your jaw drops.

The undervest barely contains the bulk of him, and you’ll be damned if you know where to look first - the lean, solid line of his arms, or the effortless ripple of muscle in his shoulders - but it’s lower where your attention makes landing, and it takes you a second to realise why.

He’s not sucking in his tummy.

The swell of his abdomen sits above the top of his jeans, where the vest is neatly tucked in. You remember too well the brush of that soft strip of skin against the back of your hands when you were on your knees, cutting him out of his jeans; and then beneath you, straddling him under the sewing table. 

While there’s an undercurrent of self-consciousness in the way he holds himself, conspicuously missing is the self-deprecation that drew your ire the day he walked into your shop with a broken zipper. A tentative confidence has taken its place, which is at the same time so endearingly vulnerable, as if your reaction to the little show he gave you just now isn’t enough to assure him of what you’re thinking.

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips. 

Or maybe, the calling southwards will win out. You’ll push him back to make room for yourself at his feet, nudging your way down his front with your nose, breathe him in, your hands finding his belt buckle and tugging it out of the loops instead. Never mind you've lost count of how many years it's been since you've wanted to do that, or if you remember how at all -

‘Pin.’

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile. 

‘Get changed, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.’

Leaving your top to soak in the sink, you pad back into the bedroom in just your bra, and you stare down at his shirt laid out neatly on top of the bed.

You press your palm over where his heart would be, the flannel still warm. For one indulgent moment, you pick up the shirt and hug it to you. It smells like him - the outdoors, a crisp spring day, with a whiff of the barbeque smoke from downstairs. You bury your nose into the soft fabric, eyes closed, imagining the weight and shape of him in it. 

Even as you put your arms through the sleeves to button it up, you already know it will be hard giving it back. You leave the last three buttons undone and you’ve just tied up the too-long ends in a double knot when there’s a polite but firm knock on the door. 

‘You decent?’

‘Yes.’

You hope your face doesn’t fall too obviously at the sight of Joel wearing a shirt again, probably one borrowed from Tommy. He leaves it unbuttoned though, which is small consolation. The air hums between you with stolen glances and words unsaid.

‘You wore those jeans for me,’ he says suddenly.

The for me rolls off his tongue coated in his delectable Southern drawl and a heady satisfaction.

You decide to be brave and shrug one shoulder in a show of attitude. ‘It was the only thing I didn’t have in the wash.’

His grin makes your heart swell. Stepping out of the open doorway, his eyes trailing heat where they linger over you, he says, ‘You look good in my shirt, sweetheart. Real good.’

You bite your lower lip at the compliment, replying shyly, ‘I like this look on you too.’

‘Used to be Tommy’s uniform during our contractor days,’ he reminiscences. ‘I’m just missing the utility belt.’

Oh. You actually find it offensive that the fleeting mention of something as banal as a utility belt should get you going like this. You try to palm off a non-committal hum, but your body betrays you with a strangled choking sound that gives you away.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

Your cheeks grow hot as both his palms latch boldly onto your hips, and you swear you can feel the burn of his fingertips through the denim, a moan gargling in your throat as your ability to form words abandons you.

‘That a yes?’ he prompts, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops in your jeans and tugging your body flush against his, his stubbled chin brushing the sensitive crook of your neck as he speaks into your ear.

‘Joel,’ you whine, which is the best you can do right now, grabbing onto the open flaps of his shirt just to stay upright.

You feel the rumble that goes through his chest under your palms when he purrs, smiling down at you, head cocked to one side with a playful condescension that’s going to be the end of you. ‘Yes, Pin?’

Your mouth opens, but you’ll never get to find out what you intended to say, because you hear it first - his right ear is to the door - the thunder of rubber soles on the stairs, and you're lucky you manage to stumble two steps back before a deafening (no pun intended), drawn-out call of his name follows.

‘JOOOOOOELLLL!’

Ellie crashes into the doorway with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, slightly out of breath like she’s been running all over the place searching for him, already in the middle of a sentence, as usual. 

‘- also Maria says they’re doing a speech now and you’re not getting out of -’ she breaks off abruptly when she spots you, eyes wide and brows - all one and a half of them - reaching for her hairline. ‘Oh shiiiiiit.’

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the resignation in his tone as the teenager wrinkles her nose. ‘Pin? That’s a weird name.’

‘Ellie!’

You smile. ‘It’s ok. Pin's just my nickname. I’m a seamstress at the Main Street Outfitters.’

Her face lights up excitedly, an open book if you’ve ever seen one. ‘No shit! I’ve been bugging Joel for a leather jacket for ages. Can I get one?’

‘Please,’ he interjects.

Ellie tucks in her chin and juts out her bottom lip at you. ‘Please?’

You demur. ‘Well, it depends on what you can trade in for it.’

‘My boombox!’ she volunteers without skipping a beat. 

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

‘Sorry, man, but I can’t wear a boombox can I?’ she argues.

Giving Joel an amused look, you come to his rescue. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, but we only take clothes in exchange.’ At the way she deflates, you counteroffer, ‘Or, you can come work at the shop on Saturdays for the next couple of months. Lucy always needs help out front, and you get a staff discount.’

He turns to you, protesting, ‘That’s very kind, but it ain’t necessary -’

Ellie cuts in, rushing up to you to shake your hand before you can take it back. ‘Deal! When can I start?’

‘There’s no rush,’ you reply with a chuckle. ‘I’ll get back to you next week.’

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

Joel groans at the terrible pun. ‘Get outta here!’

She cackles, firing triumphant finger guns at you as she retreats. ‘What? Pin liked it, she laughed! You’re no fun old man!’ 

She then pauses by the door, her eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on something smeared on your jeans. ‘Wait - what’s that white stuff on your leg?’

‘It’s cream cheese, you little shit!’ Joel snaps as your ears burn in embarrassment. ‘Out!’

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

‘ELLIE!’

She throws her hands up. ‘Alright, I’m gone, I’m gone! See ya Pin!’

Joel is the very picture of an embarrassed dad, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. ‘Sorry, she’s a handful.’

You grin, ‘She’s just a teenager.’

‘You can say that again.’

The quiet seems louder after Ellie, and you restlessly pick at the sleeves. Lifting your eyes shyly, it seems the moment has passed - but Joel has other ideas.

‘C’mere,’ he hums, drawing you close again with one hand on your waist, peering down at you through his lashes. ‘This ok?’

At your nod, he brushes his thumb on your bottom lip, catching the soft plump skin, and your tongue darts out to taste him, his eyes darkening.

‘Can I kiss you, sweetheart?’ he asks, voice hoarse.

It’s been years. Years since anyone has cared enough to kiss you, let alone cared enough to ask if they could. And it’s as if he knows - you don’t know if you’ve somehow given it away, or maybe it’s just him. 

‘Yes, Joel.’

He coaxes you closer so that you’re pressed along the whole length of him. His big palms are warm and solid on the small of your back, holding you to him like he intends for you to have trouble standing after he’s done with you. 

The tip of his nose bumps into your cheek, nudging its way across and down, and your eyes slide shut when his shaky exhale grazes your gently parted mouth. Your breath hitches at the sweet burn of his beard on your jaw, fingers grabbing onto the scruff of his neck when he finally, finally brushes his lips against yours.

For a man as hardened as Joel Miller, he sure kisses soft. He steals a whimper straight from your throat with nothing more than the clever angling of his lips, the slow drag of tongue on tongue, and a growl deep in his windpipe that you answer with your own moan.

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, beaming despite yourself.

‘You really know how to flatter a guy, sweetheart,’ he answers, his voice warming you like a smokey campfire, steadying by his hands on your hips.

‘We should probably go before Ellie comes back for us,’ you say reluctantly.

Joel huffs, ‘Ain’t gonna hear the end of it if she does.’

‘Something tells me you won’t be hearing the end of it tonight anyway,’ you tease.

He chucks you gently under the chin, his eyes soft. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

‘Had some trouble with the cake,’ you answer vaguely.

‘Sure,’ she winks at you, unconvinced. ‘If we’re calling him that.’

Right on cue, Joel strides across the lawn with three plates to join you. ‘Thought you might want some of Pin’s carrot cake.’

‘Such a gentleman, Joel Miller,’ chirps Lucy, making what can only be described as a 'thirst face' at you when his back is turned to her.

‘Thanks, Joel,’ you smile at him, letting your fingers graze his deliberately when you take the plate from him.

Saluting you with a forkful of cake, he says, ‘Thank you for bakin’, sweetheart.’

You watch as his lips close around the fork, dragging the cake clean off the slots, cream cheese smearing the corner of his mouth. He frowns, as if in deep pain as he chews, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.

‘Okay?’ you ask nervously, your slice still untouched.

‘Perfect,’ he declares, already having a second, bigger bite. Knowing he doesn’t have a superfluous bone in his body, your chest warms at his words.

‘Wait a second,’ Lucy interrupts, bringing up her plate to inspect it closely. ‘Why does the cake look all wonky?’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Luce,’ you answer coolly, taking a bite yourself.

Humming around a mouthful of moist crumb, the sweet carrot balanced out by the tangy frosting, you meet Joel’s eyes in the soft glow of fairy lights, and he flashes you a conspiratorial smile that makes you grin.

More notes: On Ellie - I was so so nervous about writing our resident teenage badass. I hope I've done her justice, I certainly had a lot of fun writing her introduction to Pin! If you're interested in a detailed deep dive into my process writing this chapter, I do recommend you read the Behind the Seams for this part ❤️

I also went back and forth on the tone and style of this chapter a lot. I wasn’t happy with the way it read, probably still not 100% happy. I like the way Seams and Threads were written better, but the fact is that this chapter is a very different setting and narrative compared to the first two, so I’m trying to be too hard on myself.

So, I have some ideas for where the story will go from here, but nothing concrete. As I've mentioned, I see this fic as more of a loose-fit series, so there's no overarching plot per se, but there's definitely a lot of room for future episodes of these two - I mean, they haven't even done the deed yet 😉

Comments, asks and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always! Thank you so much for reading, I'm so excited to hear what you guys thought of this chapter 😘

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 5,818

Warning: dirty talk, language, making out, wedding duties (lol), oral sex, smutty smut

A/N: Our final part 🥹💚 wow what a journey! There will be an epilogue for our sweet beans next week! Along with the start of the Best Friend!Suguru series.I'm so sorry for the late post, I was so sick yesterday and sleepy from my medication! But better late than never! ! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Eight

For two days, two days, you and Satoru spent most of the time in your room. Wrapped up in your sheets, him on top of you, you on top of him. You only separated for the rehearsal dinner and getting your nails done. But the second you were back in his arms, he made up for the lost time like you had been gone for years. His lips were on yours in slow, gentle kisses that became passionate.

Those same kisses would end on the futon, which probably had seen more action in the last forty-eight hours than since the inn opened. Satoru bent you in all different positions, twisting you like a pretzel, stretching you in ways you didn't even know was possible. He made it his goal to make up for the year and a half that you didn’t sleep with anyone. Gojo Satoru turned you into a mess- a withering mess.

“Oooh holy shit.” you cried out, gripping the blanket, “fuuuuck oooh fuck Satoru.”

“Yeah~? Does that feel good~?”

“S-So good~!”

“Mhmm~ good.”

Fingers moved gently, expertly making your back arch, jaw opening in a soft cry of pleasure. Satoru bit his lip, his fingers increasing the pressure against you. Cerulean eyes narrowed, focusing on your face, watching how your eyes rolled back and your face flushed.

“T-Toru~Toru.” Toes curled as you cried softly, eyes watering.

“Oooh yeah~ you gonna cum~?”

Blinking, you lift an eyebrow, watching Satoru wiggle his at you. His fingers are massaging into your sore feet, kneading away knots and easing the aching muscles. Both of you were fully clothed, sitting on the back porch overlooking the gardens. Anyone around would have assumed you both were doing the deed from how loud you were being.

“Oh my god, was I being that loud?”

“What~? No!” You relaxed a little, your feet still in his lap. Thumbs worked at a particularly sore spot, making you whine again. “I’m pretty sure Suguru heard that whine, and he's in Tokyo.”

“Ya’ know what—”

You try pulling your feet away, only to have Satoru yank them back into his lap, inadvertently pulling you closer to him. “Stop, I'm just teasing. Let me do this.” his fingers continue working, moving gently over your feet. “You were in the kitchen all morning, making a three-tier wedding cake. Then those ‘friends’ of yours make you wear heels to take pictures. And you have to wear heels for the wedding tomorrow?” Satoru shook his head, white tufts of hair swaying.

“I offered to bake the cake, the benefit of having a baker as a friend.” His thumbs hit a sore spot, making you jolt. “But the heels are torture.”

“They seem like it.”

A soft, comfortable silence filled with chirping crickets and a distant wind chime grew between you. You just sat there while Satoru rubbed at your sore feet under the blanket of glittering stars. You had one more day together here in Kyoto, then a train ride back home, and you would be back to reality. A reality that had changed drastically over the last week.

When you both retired to your room, you lay in bed staring at the ceiling in thought. You had gone from a woman who was quiet, shy, and hell-bent on not needing anyone to this giggly, joyful woman who couldn’t be any happier. Satoru had peeled away at the layers of scar tissue you had hidden yourself in. He brought a certain confidence out in you. Being with him was as easy as breathing; even when you returned home to your mundane lives, you had faith you both would continue to strive forward. To keep your relationship going strong.

Strong as the urge to stay in bed with him all day despite your fellow bridesmaids pounding on your door the next morning. Satoru grumbled in horny frustration; his cock was pressed firmly over your barely clothed core. You pulled your lips away from his neck, pushing your hair back, groaning at the sudden interruption.

“I have to go, Toru.” You pulled off of him, giggling as he threw his head back. “Hey~ don’t be like that; we’ll pick up where we left off tonight.”

“Wedding sex is the best kind of sex. Especially when you’re on a sugar rush.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, grinning ear to ear. “That sounds enticing.” Satoru sat up on his elbows, licking his lips.

“Oh, it’s gonna happen tonight,” Satoru promised with a shake of his head. “I promise you that.”

Another knock at the door, “If you don’t come out! We’re coming in! Regardless of how indecent you two are!” A series of knocks sounded from the other side of the door by several different hands from the sound of it.

”I better go before they knock down the door.” With a pout, you leaned down, kissing Satoru goodbye before heading out. “I’ll see you later!” just before you shut the door to the room, you pouted as Satoru watched, sticking his bottom lip out. “It’s just three hours, babe!”

Three hours flew by before you knew it. The excitement of getting ready for the wedding and seeing your best friend practically buzzing in anticipation fueled everyone's energy. While you were bouncing up and down eagerly waiting to see Satoru in a tailored suit. Just imagining him had you grinning as you stared out the bridal suite window, looking towards the garden decorated for the joyous event.

“So, when are you and Satoru getting married?”

”Eh!?” All of your friends surrounded you, devilish smiles gracing their faces. “I-I—we are not getting married!” At least not yet. “We’ve barely started going out.” Literally. “There’s no indication that we're even considering that!”

“Oh, please!”

“Says the girl that’s been locked in her room with said boyfriend for the last two days!”

Your face burned like a fresh sunburn. “S-So! That does not mean that we’re getting married anytime soon!” All of your friends booed in protest. “Will the whole lot of you stop? Seriously, I don’t want you guys scaring off Satoru!” The bride stepped forward in her gown and all of her glory. “Finally, Mina, will you please talk some sense into them!?” Your best friend looked amongst the other girls, all dressed in a beautiful sky blue. For a moment, you thought she might take your side. But the second a smirk at the corner of her mouth, you knew she didn’t have your back.

“I was going to ask you the same question! The man would’ve fucked you against the wall at the bar no one stopped him!”

“Oh my God!”

“I’m serious! I think I’ll hand you the bouquet when I toss it!”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh, I think I will!”

“We are not getting married—not yet!”

Satoru sat off to the side, right next to your parents, as the wedding started. He watched with wide and sparkling eyes as you walked down the aisle with a groomsman. Your hair was styled beautifully, and the flowing sky-blue dress looked stunning on your figure and complimented your skin tone. His mouth felt suddenly dry as you looked at him, giving him a gentle, sweet smile. Cupid himself must have shot him through the heart at that moment because fuck, he was falling so hard for you.

“Ma’am—“ he learned next to your mother's ear, “just so you know, the next wedding we host here will be ours.”

“Huh?!”

Her reaction didn’t even seem to faze him. All he cared about was standing near the front of an outdoor arch decor with flowers of different colors—a gentle breeze brushed by you, making your hair and the dress flow. Even when the bride made her grand entrance, everyone turned to see her walking down the aisle towards her future husband. Satoru had his eyes locked on you.

You could feel his eyes, and that burning sensation had your focus transfixed on him. Was it wrong to be looking at your wedding date instead of the bride-to-be? The chances of that were very likely. But how could you not stare back? When his eyes burned holes into your very soul and left your heart racing like you had just run a marathon. It was impossible to pay attention to anyone else.

He was so handsome. Satoru was wearing a white button-down shirt with a blue tie that matched your dress. His navy blue jacket and pants were tailored to his body perfectly. You could tell by its appearance that it was expensive. It was probably more expensive than your best friend's wedding dress. You wanted to rip it off of him and let him take you right there in the garden.

Yes, he was extremely good-looking. But it wasn’t his clothes or his appearance or the fact that he had money that made you so attracted to him at that moment. The way he looked at you, eyes trailing over your body, with a soft grin, told you everything you needed to know. Satoru truly cared for you. This wasn’t just about sex, and it wasn’t the magic of the wedding to be. Chemistry, connection, and attraction were one hundred percent genuine.

After exchanging vows and rings, hundreds of pictures were taken with everyone. You were finally free from your wedding duties. The first thing you did as soon as you broke away from the rest of the group was run to Satoru’s side. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight to his chest. Lips pressed against the temple of your head, and you could’ve sworn he let out a little sigh of happiness to have you back in his arms.

“You look so fucking beautiful.” He cupped a strand of hair behind your ear before gently reaching down, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Is it wrong for me to say you’re even more beautiful than the bride?”

“Satoru!” you playfully punched at his shoulder, “I am not.”

“Oh, you are; that’s a god-given fact, sweetheart.” His thumbs brushed ever so lovingly over your cheek. “But there’s just one thing I would change about the outfit.”

“You and me both.” You winced, moving your arm away from the scratchy sequins top. “This material is an absolute nightmare for my underarms. I’m serious. You’ll probably have to put lotion on them for me later.”

“Oh.” Satoru deadpans. “ I wasn’t talking about the material.”

You hum in thought, looking over the dress for any flaws he may have noticed. “Oh?” When you didn’t find anything else wrong with the dress in your eyes, you tilted your head, looking up at Satoru. “Well, what would you change about it then?” His hand gently pulled your face closer to his own; he leaned down, the fresh smell of minty lemonade coaxing your nostrils.

“I’d change the color.”

“Wait, what?”

Your date says nothing for a beat of silence. “So anyways! Let’s grab our seats; I’ll get you one of the cocktails!”

He rambles on while you’re still stuck on how he would change the color of your dress. Surely, he meant he would do a different shade or maybe red instead of blue; there’s no possible way that he was talking about it to white. Yeah, he didn’t mean that at all! Your friends just put the stupid notion in your head that you guys are going to get married next. You didn’t even know what the two of you were yet. You hadn’t put a label on your relationship.

What you did know was that Satoru wanted to make your relationship work. So you knew for sure that you weren’t just another fuck buddy or client. This went deeper than that. What you both had was real, which was a lot more than other couples had. So who knew, maybe your friends were right? Perhaps Satoru had thought that white would make your dress look one million times better.

These were questions and answers for another day. You weren’t going to rush into things. Both of you wanted to take your time and get to know one another.

And you learned a lot of things about him as the party began. Like how he despised the taste of alcohol, he had mentioned it in passing when he walked you to the bachelorette party. But when he accidentally took a sip of a cocktail unintentionally, not knowing it had alcohol in it, the man sputtered and choked. His hands grabbed a cola from the bartender, chugging it like water. You learned that he was a pretty good dancer. He bumped and ground with you on the dance floor while the music blared. You learned how gentle his hands were as he slowly danced with you to one of the many love songs the DJ played.

He was so tentative to you. He’d always make sure you had a drink of some kind. He insisted that you drink plenty of water to avoid getting drunk. He even went to the room and grabbed your sandals when your high heels bothered you. God, he was everything and then some. If you hadn’t called for each other, he truly would have made this wedding a lot of fun for you. There was no doubt that he was worth every penny you were willing to spend to have a good time.

The party has toned down almost entirely, a few stragglers drunkenly laughing and drinking while others chat while eating the vanilla and raspberry compote cake you had made. Your best friend and her husband are one of two couples on the floor dancing to a slow song. The other was Satoru and the flower girl who had been smitten with his white hair and blue eyes. She was convinced he was Prince charming and begged him to dance with her. Satoru jumped at the opportunity. Gently placing her little feet on top of his shoes as he danced with her to the slow beat of the music.

Your gaze was locked on him as you nursed a cup of coffee between your hands. He was so perfect in every way, shape, and form. Satoru had made this one of the best nights of your entire life. God, you don’t think you’ve ever had so much fun at a wedding before. It was all thanks to him that you were having one of the most memorable nights of your life.

Those deep, happy thoughts are cut short when a tiny, chubby hand gently smacks your cheek. The sudden contact has you jumping, nearly spilling the hot coffee over your hands as you turn to see who has smacked you. You’re met with beautiful, big navy-colored eyes—dark tufts of hair spill over the head as the baby gently smacks your cheek again.

“Please don’t hit me, I have my kid.” a familiar voice speaks, “and don’t yell, please.”

You scoff, cocking an eyebrow up at Toji as he sits down in the chair next to you. “Are you seriously using your kid as a human shield?” Your ex shakes his head before looking over his shoulder, searching for someone.

“I cannot confirm nor deny that.” He cradles the babbling baby in his lap. “But if my wife is around, I will deny every word.”

“So you are using your child as a human shield.”

“Well, it’s working, isn’t it?”

“What do you want, Toji?”

He cradles his son in one arm, reaching into his suit jacket with his free hand. Toji pulls out a manila envelope and places it in front of you. Gingerly, taking it off the table, you open it and find the money you had left in the kitchen the other day. The money he almost ruined your relationship with Satoru over and the money you’d spent on him

He exhales deeply through his nose before clearing his throat. “What I did was wrong.” His son babbles, chubby little hands pulling the sleeve of his jacket. “I just wanted to apologize for everything that happened. I broke your heart, not once but twice. You, of all people, don’t deserve to be treated like that.” You cock an eyebrow. “And no, I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I just wanted to say that I was sorry. For breaking off our engagement the way that I did. For almost sabotaging your relationship with that brat over there.” His head jerks in Satoru’s direction.

“Yeah, you almost fucked that up for me.”

“Well, luckily, you guys worked it out.”

“Yeah, we did.” For the first time all week, you don’t feel the slightest bit of dread being near Toji. Maybe it was because you slapped the shit out of him, or perhaps it was because you felt as though your last confrontation was able to heal your wounds. “He’s a great guy.”

“Great for an escort.”

“Former escort.” You correct him with a smug smile. “Satoru sent in his resignation letter on Thursday after we talked.”

Toji’s eyes went wide before they softened with a gentle gaze that you hadn’t seen since high school. “Well shit, I guess I had him pegged wrong.” Taking another sip of your coffee, you giggle before resting your chin on your fist.

“I thought you said you were the greatest PI.”

“Nah, I’m one of the best.” Toni leans back, and in this light, you can see the slight discoloration on his face from both you and Satoru’s hits the other day. “I’m far from being the greatest. I wasn’t for you, but—“ he pressed his lips against his son’s head. “I’m trying to be a better person for this brat and my wife.”

“You always were an asshole.” Your point-blank statement had him wincing. “But if you hadn’t been an asshole, I wouldn’t have become the person I am today. So thanks for being a dick.”

Toji tilts his head, chuckling. “You’re welcome, I guess.” A squealing babble has both you and Toji glancing down at his son. He gently gums at his father’s jacket, drooling over the fabric. Toji sighs and gently lifts the baby to stare at him. When he does, those navy blue eyes glance towards his chest that's straining against the fabric. His son smacks his lips in hunger. “Fuck, I gotta find my wife; the little shits hungry again. And I’d rather not have him gnawing at my pecs.” He stands and pauses before turning his child to face you.

The tiny human gurgles at you, tilting his head. “Uhm, Toji, I can’t feed him.” Your ex rolls his eyes so hard you can almost hear it.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ know, I just—“ he sighs, “this is my son, Fushiguro Megumi.” You can’t help but smile at his name; a blessing.

“Well, hello there, Megumi.” You gently pet his hair back. “It’s nice to meet you; whatever you do, don’t turn out to be like your father.”

Toji barks out a sharp laugh, nodding his head. “Yeah, that’s for sure.” Megumi laughs loudly, smacking his hands against your face.

“Toji!” Both of you turn to see a woman with dark hair waving at him.

“That’s the wife, we’re leaving.” He cradles Megumi into his side ever so gently. “I’m sorry again for all the shit I put you through in the past and well in the last week.”

“Well, all that shit led me to someone pretty great.” Your eyes drift back to Satoru, who's walking the little girl back to her parents. “All those years of putting up with you gave me some good karma.”

“For putting up with me, you deserve the world.” He scoffs hurriedly to join his wife. “Later.”

You wave goodbye to him, returning to your cup just as Satoru joins you. Two plates with cake in his hands. “Was that Toji!?” His ocean eyes meet yours, searching for any sign or tears of frustration. “The hell did he want?” He shoves the sweet cake into his mouth before offering you a bite, which you eagerly take.

“Mhm, he just wanted to give me the money he owed me.”

“What you should have given him was a knuckle sandwich.” Your soft giggle has butterflies swarming inside his stomach.

“I already gave him one, so I’ll gladly take the money this time.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He takes another bite of cake. “It would be a shame for you to bruise those knuckles again.”

You press your body against him, relishing in the warmth. “You know I don’t even care anymore. I got hurt in the past. I wallowed in my self-pity for over a year. But things are starting to look up for me now.” He hummed, turning to press a kiss against your forehead. “All thanks to my—“You hesitate, not sure if you want to be the one to put a label on your relationship.

“Boyfriend.” Satoru finishes for you, making your hearts swell with joy.

“Yes, my boyfriend.”

Satoru takes one last bite of his cake before wiping the mixture of whipped cream and buttercream off with his thumb. “Mmm, I love hearing you say that. It sounds so damn pretty rolling off your tongue.” You grinned, gently gripping his hand on your own, squeezing it as you stood.

“Wanna see what else I can do with my tongue~?”

Without hesitation, your boyfriend stands up from the table, following you down the hall. “Oooh? Is the sugar kicking in?” Satoru quickly takes the lead from you, dragging you down the hall and towards the guest rooms.

“It’s not just the sugar.” You correct him. “It’s you.”

The second you step into the room, and the door is slammed shut, Satoru’s on you, cupping your face, kissing you deeply with a guttural moan. You return the kiss, tasting the sweet, tangy remains of the cake on his tongue that worked its way into your mouth. You’re moaning, pushing his jacket off, letting it fall to the ground as you start working on the buttons of his shirt.

While you do that, Satoru runs his hands down your back, searching for a zipper or buttons, only to discover an intricate series of strings. He breaks the kiss, looking down at the saliva connecting your lips before he forces you to turn around so he can start working on the corset holding you hostage. His fingers struggle with the silky strings; he’s far too excited to sit down and take the necessary time to care for this.

“Hey, sweetheart, this isn’t a rental, is it?”

”No, I wish it was; I seriously haye the sequins, Toru.” You huff out, feeling his hands gently grip both sides of the back of the dress.

”So you wouldn’t be heartbroken if anything were to happen to it?”

”No, I guess I woul—“ RIIIP!! “Oh fuck!” You tumble as Satoru uses all of his strength to rip down the back of the dress—the thin fabric pools around your feet before Satoru turns you back to face him. The second you do, he drops to his knees in front of you and kisses down your bare chest, all the way to your lace panties. “S-Satoru~”

“Mmm, I wanna show you what I can do with my tongue.” He states flatly before tugging your panties down. “I get to eat two sweet treats tonight. Your amazing cake and your delicious pussy.”

His tongue instantly slides over your clit, making you grip his hair for support in fear that you are going to buckle over. Your hand grips the soft strands of hair, winning the softest of groans from him. While your fingers run through his hair, only make him move his tongue faster, with the sole purpose of making you cum.

Unfortunately for you, even if you were willing to hold off, Satoru is just too good at what he does. He teases your clit, going between gentle flicks, suckling on it, and writing his name against it with the tip of his tongue. His antics and techniques leave you nearly falling over, wishing you were on the futon. There was something about towering over him, though, bucking your pussy against his willing mouth that gave you a certain sense of empowerment.

You could see why men would like a woman on their knees. It was fun holding all of the power to make Satoru do what you wanted, to keep his face in place with you humping his tongue. You could have cum from just thinking of riding his face like this. Doing it though, fuck, it was so hot.

Satoru thought so, too; his jaw opened wide as he flattened his tongue, allowing you to use his mouth as you saw fit. His hand gently reached around, grabbing the fat of your ass, encouraging you to move and grind faster against him, wanting for you to cum. His squeezing you had your head falling forward, strands of your kiss-messy hair falling as you came hard, rolling your hips in time with the waves crashing over you. Satoru hummed happily, lapping up the juices you kindly offered him.

“Fuck, oooh fuck Satoru.” Your knees were buckling as he gently peppered hisses down your inner thighs. “I don’t think I can walk after that.”

”Hm? Oh, don’t worry about that.” He lifted you gently, placing you down on the futon. “I have a perfect place for you to sit.” You watched in awe as your boyfriend stripped out of his clothes and slipped on a condom before standing completely naked in front of you. “Now, what do you say,” Satoru laid down, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle him. “We pick up where we left off this morning before your friends rudely interrupted us.”

”Mmm, I love the sound of that.” Sitting back ever so slightly, you gently grabbed his cock, easing the thick throbbing tip inside of you. “Ah~ fuck I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how thick you are.” You cry out as you slowly begin to slide yourself down his shaft with a whimper.

”And I’ll never get over how tight and warm you are.” Large hands gently grip your hip, holding you as you sit down on him, his cock fully buried inside of you. “God, I can’t wait to feel how wet you are one of these days.” He hisses through his teeth as you slowly begin to rock back and forth on him. “Y-You fuck, sweetie, you feel so fucking good!”

“Yeah, so do you, Toru; I feel you getting bigger inside me.”

“And I can feel you clamping down.”

Knowing that he could feel just how good you were feeling was the only entice you needed to pick up your pace, your gentle rocks becoming a bit faster and harder as you gently began bouncing up and down on him. Your sudden increase in speed had Satoru choking on a raspy whine, his head tilting back as you placed your hands on his chest, steadying yourself. This position was one of your favorites. You were able to watch Satoru’s face contort with pleasure while his cock hit all the right places deep inside of you.

Satoru also loved this position because he got to see how relaxed you were, how he was able to grope your perfect tits, his thumbs brushing gently over your sensitive nipples. But his favorite thing about this position was being able to touch you. Not just your breasts, as great as those were. Running his large palms down your hips and over the top of your thighs, feeling your muscles twitch made happy, satisfied grunts leave his mouth. But it was when you interlace your fingers with his that got his heart pounding.

Your hips were moving faster, harder against him. Your smaller fingers held on to his for support, squeezing them gently as your tiny whines turned into desperate moans as your fucked yourself on him.

”Toru, oooh fuck~”

”Yeah, you close?” His fingers gave yours a gentle squeeze. “You gonna cum? Make me cum with you? I feel it coming back, god, I feel it; you’re going to make me cum so fucking hard.”

”Y-Yeah wanna make you cum, cum with me, Satoru, please I need it, need it so fucking bad.”

Satoru groaned, nodding his head as you slammed yourself up and down on him, his hips bucking up to meet you, fucking the tip of his cock directly into your cervix. You both are moaning so loud you know people will be calling the front desk to file a complaint, but you could care less about all of that. All that mattered right now was you and Satoru.

“Ooooh fuck me.” You cry out, releasing your boa constrictor grip on his hands, digging them into the bedding as you fall forward onto his chest. Your hips bounce up and down faster and harder, skin slapping against skin as your ass slams down. “Satoru, I’m gonna—“

”M-Me too, baby, holy fuck me too!” Satoru’s hands grip the sides of your hips, forcing you to move faster, which seems almost impossible. “Fuck, oooh fuck, fuck shit!” He’s gritting his teeth as you cry out into the side of his neck. “Oh, holy fuckin shit, baby! I’m cumming! Cumming inside you!”

With one final slam, both of your bodies go rigid as the orgasms hit you at the same time. Your pulsating walls have Satoru’s cock throbbing eagerly deep inside of you, filling the condom. Leaving both of you shaking, sweaty messes. Satoru recovers first, his hands gently caressing your sides as you lay all your weight on top of him. While you gently press open-mouthed kisses over his collarbone.

It isn’t until your muscles are protesting the position that you’re in that you finally move. Satoru helps you push off of him gently, laying you down next to his side. His fingers brush some of your hair back before he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You kiss him back burying yourself into his chest as his hands gently move up and down your back.

“So, how was our first date?” The gentle tone of Satoru’s voice has you happily humming.

“One of the best dates I ever had in my entire life.”

“Yeah, I have to agree with you on that one.” His hand continued to rub up and down your back gently. “I can’t wait to go on another and another, and god, I just want to go on countless dates with you.” He waits for you to respond, to say anything. When you don’t say a word, he peers down, finding you sleepily snuggled against him. Your hard work from the last few days has finally caught up to you. “Get some sleep.” He whispered, disposing of the condom before pulling the sheet over your body as he shut his eyes, too, following you into a deep sleep.

The next day was a blur at the inn. From packing your bags, checking out, and bidding farewell to your parents before you at Satoru took the train back to Tokyo. Where you both leaned against each other, still tired from the last week and the wedding from the night before. You only fully regain consciousness when the train pulls up to your stop. You grab your bags in silence as you slowly leave the train.

It didn’t feel real that the week was finally over. That tonight would be the first night you would be alone in a week. Part of you dreaded the night you were about to spend alone in your apartment. But you didn’t want to be clingy and ask Satoru to stay the night.

While your relationship had been entirely out of order, you didn’t want to ruin it right when it began. There would be another time for Satoru to spend the night with you. You are almost certain he would love to go home to his apartment and unwind.

So you stopped in front of the coffee shop where you met each other for the first time. Turning around, you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder, winning a slightly confused look from your new boyfriend. Swallowing hard, you hugged him tight before pulling back.

“Thank you again for everything.” You wet your bottom lip with your tongue. “I can’t thank you enough. Text me later. Maybe we could meet up for coffee or dinner sometime this week. Go on our second date.”

Satoru said nothing for a moment as you fiddled with the handle of your suitcase. “Hey.” He finally broke the silence, his hand gently grabbing yours. “Would now be too soon to take you on our second date?” Light shimmered in your eyes as Satoru put his sunglasses on. “I know this great spot for brunch.” You felt your heart swell as he rubbed at his slightly slushed neck. “I just—I don’t want to say goodbye yet.” Round sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing his breathtaking eyes. “But if you’re too tired or busy, later this week would be fine, I gue—” You reach up, pressing your index finger gently over his lips, silencing him.

“Brunch sounds great.”

“Great!” Satoru beams gently, interlocking your hands as you make your way up to the surface. “You’re going to love it.” You gently squeezed his hand as you stepped into the bustling streets of Tokyo. A week ago, you never would have thought the man you had hired to be your wedding date would be taking you out on your second date, hopefully leading to many more.

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WHEN THE MOON HOWLS ― a javier peña's autumnal oneshot

main masterlist | read on ao3 | part 2 pairing: javier peña x f!reader. summary: you meet javier in a café during your sabbatical. you see the man that no one does ― the one who is broken, defeated, crushed by his time as a DEA agent. so you make it your purpose to shine some light on his life, one pumpkin spice latte at a time. -or- the story of how you two fall head over heels for each other c: a/n: hiya! been wanting to write for javi p for a while, but was afraid to take the plunge because it's been a hot minute since i last watched narcos. anyways, this fic is for @goodwithcheese and @jolapeno's jolabrew + withcheese fall challenge which i found really inspiring, thank you for hosting this sweet challenge! first time taking part in a challenge too, whoop whoop! as always, all interactions welcome, would love to hear your thoughts. take care! <3 x warnings/tags: 18+, mdni (no smut here, but still). post season 3 of narcos, possibly slightly off-canon? idk. fluff, loads of it! angst, comfort. mentions of ptsd, panic attacks and therapy. halloween/autumnal vibes. trip to the pumpkin patch to cheer our sweet javi up. reader's pov only (v unlike me). no use of y/n. no description of reader (moodboard is only for aesthetic purposes). unbeta'd, soz. w/c: 6.8k (this was gonna be a short drabble... smh) divider by @saradika-graphics

Friday, 18th September 1998

“What can I get for you today, gorgeous?” was your go-to sentence with every client.

Even when your own personal demons stalked you at night, you made your best effort to get out of bed every day and come to work. Working in a café was not in your plans for this year, but a heart-shattering breakup had rocked your world so bad, you needed out.

So, you took a sabbatical from your job in finance, hugged your parents and waved goodbye to your friends. It would only be for one year ― hopefully enough to get your life together and reorganise your priorities.

That was why you moved to Laredo two months ago, to have a fresh start with a blank slate ― where no one knew you and you knew no one. A month into your new life, you realised you needed to do something or otherwise you would go crazy. So you took a waiting job at one of the local cafés. You were just paid the minimum wage, but you had enough savings to live comfortably for a year without any issues.

It was only mid-September ― technically still summer. However, the unusually cold weather made it look otherwise. Fall had appeared sooner this year, and you couldn’t be happier about it. You loved autumn ― its duller hues, the crispy air, the browning leaves, the cozy sweaters, burying yourself under blankets on the couch while channel surfing. It was, by far, your favourite season.

“A pumpkin spice latte, please.” The masculine voice that spoke back to you was plain, deflated ― it lacked… something, but you were not able to pinpoint what exactly.

Your eyes moved from your notebook to the man in front of you, sat at the one of the most isolated tables. A few strands of wavy, brown hair fell across his forehead, the ends caressing the metal frame of the yellow-tinted, aviator sunglasses that shielded his eyes. ‘Brown too,’ you thought. ‘Sad and brown.’

Even if he was not looking at you, you could simply tell. His demeanour, his posture, the way he averted his eyes ― the man spoke of sadness and hurt, of something dark and gut-wrenching you could not even fathom.

And he was alone ― it was obvious he was not waiting on anyone.

“Anything else?” You asked, your throat suddenly dry.

He shook his head no without a word. His hands were placed on top of the table, his fingers intertwined while his thumbs circled each other. It was a restrained yet impatient gesture, as if he could not wait to be left alone.

“Could I interest you in a slice of pumpkin cake? It’s got cream cheese frosting. Shouldn’t say it myself because I baked it, but it’s delicious, I promise.” You tried to tempt him; a soft smile directed at him. “If you don’t like it, it’s on the house.”

The curvature of your lips wavered when his eyes slowly drifted up towards you and locked on yours. They definitely had a sorrowful tint to them ― as if he had seen too much, been witness to too many unspeakable things. His eyes were a window to a crushed soul, that much you could perceive.

His lips formed a flat line as he looked away and through the window to his right.

“Why not then…” His reply was not rude but charged with something unsettling. Something that made you swallow hard.

But you were still smiling back at him. Maybe the guy was having a rough day, a rough week or a rough month. A rough lifetime? Showing him kindness was not going to change his view on the world around him, but if it helped, even a tiny bit, you would smile until the corners of your mouth hurt.

“Alrighty, shouldn’t be long!” You scribbled the command on your notebook, the tip of your tongue unconsciously sticking out between your teeth as you did.

You walked back to behind the counter and when you turned around, you saw the man watching your every move. But as soon as he felt caught, he bowed his head down and looked for something in one of his shirt’s pockets. Soon after that, he lighted a cigarette.

Slightly confused, you faced the coffee maker and looked at the recipe card for the pumpkin spice latte. As you started preparing it, one of your colleagues walked past you.

“Pssst, Alejandra!” You called her in a whisper.

The girl looked around her, unsure if someone had said her name or if it was her imagination playing games.

“Over here”, you waved at her and Alejandra happily trotted towards you.

“Yeah? What’s up? Do you need a hand with that?” She offered her help, as she always did. You were grateful to have such good coworkers in your shift. It was a contrasting experience in comparison to your finance job.

“No, I think I’m okay. Got a question of different nature though,” you ventured pressing your lips together. “The guy over there, sat in the corner…” Alejandra turned her head around to look and stuck her head out, going on her tiptoes and everything. “Hey! Be a bit less obvious, dammit!” You panicked, shaking her forearm as she giggled.

“What about him?” She asked with a cocked brow.

“Who is he? Not seen him before ‘round here.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, but Alejandra’s raised eyebrow told you she was seeing through your bullshit.

“Chucho’s son. Javier.”

“Chucho who?” It seemed like everyone knew everyone in this town, except for you.

“Chucho Peña, he owns a farm on the outskirts of town. That’s his son Javier. He worked for the DEA and has moved back in with his old man a couple of weeks ago. Rumour has it he was fired. Apparently, he was caught doing drugs on the job, can you believe it?” Alejandra didn’t hold back on the gossip. “The same drugs he was confiscating from the narcos, taking them all for himself. Some say he was even selling them back to them and making good profit.”

You knew to take rumours with a very big pinch of salt. Sure, there was corruption in the DEA as in any other governmental organisation, but he did not seem to be that kind of guy. Not that you knew him, anyway.

“Not even his childhood friends are speaking to him now, so if I were you, I’d keep my distance.” She warned you in a hush. “He’s trouble, that dude.”

That broke your heart a little. Javier looked lonely enough ― learning that he was truly on his own resonated loud with you. Being branded a misfit by his own community had to be a hard pill to swallow.

“Mhmm. Sure thing”, was your only reply. Alejandra tilted her head to one side, studying your blank expression. “I was just curious, that’s it.”

“If you say so. But don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Her veiled counsel hung above your head as you resumed the task of preparing his coffee.

Five minutes later you were done and walking back to where Javier was patiently waiting. As you approached his table, a guy pushed back his chair to stand up and hit you hard. You lost your balance, almost tripping with the legs of the chair. Your right hip slammed against the edge of an empty chair and prevented you from falling ― you managed to save the coffee, but the plate with the cake slice slid off your fingers and shattered against the floor.

“Hey! Watch it!”

For a second you thought it was the gentleman reprimanding you, but you quickly recognised the voice ― Javier had stood up, fast as thunder, and his index finger was accusatorily pointing to the man who had mindlessly pushed his chair back.

Before the situation escalated, you straightened out your back and planted a hand on Javier’s forearm to stop him from tackling the guy.

“It’s okay, it’s nothing. I wasn’t looking, it’s my bad.” You quickly tried to diffuse the situation, tension building up between the two men.

“No, it’s not.” Javier replied between gritted teeth. “This asshole should have seen you walking by.”

Your eyes widened as they flew from one man’s face to the other’s. Javier’s outburst was not welcomed by the other guy, who was clenching his fists at his sides. You put the surviving coffee down on a table nearby and placed yourself in the middle of both men, arms extended.

“No need to take this so seriously, it was just a bit of cake, and I’m not hurt.” You said looking at Javier with imploring eyes. You did not need this kind of trouble.

‘He’s trouble’, Alejandra had said. Should you listen?

“Please, accept my apologies.”

“I ain’t paying you shit now, treating one of your regular clients like this.” The man barked back, fuming.

Javier took a step forward and his chest pressed against the palm of your hand. You did not expect to feel his warm skin under yours ― a few unbuttoned buttons on his shirt gave you a peek of his hairy chest.

He clenched his jaw so hard you could see his muscles straining.

“Of course, of course. I’ll pay for it, it’s not a problem.”

Huffing and puffing, the man signalled to his companion and they both walked out the door, mumbling something you couldn’t hear but could imagine.

Slowly you turned to face Javier, whose eyes burnt like gasoline. You didn’t know if he was trouble, but he was definitely danger.

“It’s alright, relax. I’m sorry about the cake, I’ll get you another one. It’s on me, I kinda forced you to buy it.” You offered, thinking he was still mad, while you knelt down to clean the mess with some tissues you had grabbed from the table besides you.

“I’ll pay for it. For both slices.” He replied succinctly, squatting down by your side to help you out.

“You don’t need to”, you quickly said, watching him on the corner of your eye.

His expression softened a bit, and his lips turned into a grimace.

“I do. I think I made things worse for you.” You thought the same but didn’t dare to voice your opinion.

You were customer-facing and could hear your manager in your mind saying ‘The customer is always right. Treat ‘em like royalty’. Bullshit that, really, but was part of the job.

Once the mess was cleared, you gave Javier his coffee and ran back to the counter to cut another slice for him. This time, as you sauntered towards him, you were aware of your surroundings. Luckily, there were no more inconveniences, and the cake slice made it safe and sound to Javier’s table.

“Thanks. And sorry again.” He apologised, his tone throaty with truth. He really meant it.

“Don’t worry about it, honestly.” You grinned at him as you gently squeezed his shoulder without thinking. Javier’s eyes quickly darted down at the touch ― you could swear he flinched. “Oh― S-sorry”, you stammered, pulling your hand back to break contact.

Javier just hmphed and turned his attention to his drink and food.

With your brows knitting together, you made your way back to the counter. From time to time, you would check on him from a distance while serving other patrons. ‘Just making sure he likes it’, you told yourself every time.

After half an hour, Javier got up and walked towards the register.

“How was it?” You asked with a gleaming smile.

“It was good.” Surprisingly, you were slightly disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm. “Really good”, he added a second later, as if he had picked up on your disillusionment.

The smile came back to your mouth.

“Well, I’m glad.” You said while you typed in his order to produce the bill. “It’s $9.42.”

“How much was the… gentleman’s” he spat out the word, “bill? I want to cover it too.”

That offer took you completely off guard, and you started shaking your hands and head at the same time.

“No, no, no. It’s okay, I’ll pay for it. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I insist. Please.” He punctuated every word. “How much was it?”

“Uh, mhmm…” You didn’t want him to take the blow. Maybe he had made the situation worse, but at the end of the day, it was the other guy’s fault, not his. “Are you sure?”

He simply nodded.

“It was $25.37. So the total would be… $34.79.” You composed a pitiful face ― it was a lot of money for a coffee and a cake slice.

Javier handed you a $50 note and then said, “Keep the change.”

With your mouth agape with surprise and not really understanding his generosity, you looked down and extended your hand almost unwillingly.

“But this is a lot…” You started to complain. However, when you looked up at him, you only saw his back.

Javier was already walking out of the café before you could say anything else.

Friday, 25th September 1998

Exactly a week later at ten past five in the afternoon, Javier Peña entered the café you worked at. Your brows furrowed, trying to recall last Friday. Had he gotten there at the same time too? He sat at the same table, same chair as well. The man was a creature of habit, a wild one at that.

Sooner rather than later, you were in front of him, notebook and pencil on hand, with a cheery smile.

“What can I get for you today, gorgeous?” You asked, hoping he would catch the joke ― you also followed a routine.

The joke went over his head. He looked less taciturn than a week before, albeit he still had this aura around him screaming to be left alone. Javier leaned back on his chair and this time, he did make eye contact, unlike last.

A slight yet noticeable change.

“A pumpkin spice latte, please.” This time round, his voice was a bit livelier although still crude.

“Anything else?” Your smile turned crooked as your eyes locked on his.

You saw a sparkle in them, a brightness that flickered under the fluorescent lights of the café. A hint of mischief, you thought too. He definitely had seen the joke now.

“Do you still have pumpkin cake? The one with cream cheese frosting?” He went off script, which made your grin grow bigger.

A creature of habit, but adaptable.

You nodded, writing the order down ― your tongue peeking through your teeth in full concentration.

“Freshly baked, I did it this morning.”

“If it’s half as good as last week’s, I might have to start coming over every Friday then.” A lopsided grin fought its way to his lips, although it didn’t stay there for long.

That brief gesture had transformed his expression, softening the hard edges of his jaw and smoothing out the wrinkles around his covered eyes. You noticed he still had his aviator glasses on, even though it was cloudy outside.

You were not prepared for his compliment, so you just tittered.

“If that’s the case, I’ll make sure to bake one every Friday as to not disappoint you”, you replied jokingly, albeit you truly considered it.

The shadow of a grimace danced on Javier’s mouth. The beginning of another smile, perhaps. Could you be so lucky that he would gift you with two grins in a row? That would be unheard of.

It wasn’t like you were watching him, but you were. Just a few glances here and there though, nothing too obvious. You did not believe in such things, but it seemed like his demons were following him wherever he went. Whatever darkness accompanied him, had a tight grip on him. You wondered what had happened to Javier to give off such an uneasy feeling.

The man was the epitome of wariness ― always looking above his shoulders, his hand tightly latching on to the buckle of his belt. Javier Peña looked like a man who always had a foot in the door, ready to run at the slightest inconvenience. And just because of that, you should be chary, keeping your distance. But it was exactly that, his raw loneliness, what pulled you into his orbit.

You were a fixer, and Javier was broken.

You were a puzzler, and Javier was a puzzle someone had tossed aside ― all the little pieces spread in disarray, unclassified, waiting to be put back together.

Question was, could he be fixed or was he shattered beyond repair?

Friday, 2nd October 1998

“Let me guess. One pumpkin spice latte and a slice of pumpkin cake?”

Javier’s sunglasses reflected the light off the ceiling, his eyes catching a sliver of it. His fingers drummed against the table, his pearly white teeth peeking through the brief smile his lips composed just for you.

“It’s almost like you already know me”, he jested, flattening the palm of his hand against the table and sliding it off until his fingers wrapped around the edge.

That simple motion had you in a trance for a second, your mind blank.

“I do know a few things about you.” It slipped off your tongue before you could refrain yourself.

Once you realised what you had just said, your eyes slightly widened, and you unconsciously chewed your bottom lip.

“Do you?” Javier tilted his head to one side, his kempt moustache wrinkling with curiosity.

You nodded slowly and he cocked a brow, enticing you to continue.

“I’ve noticed you like a routine, always showing up at the same time, ordering the same thing, sitting on the same table, the same chair. And I know you love fall, because why would you be ordering a pumpkin spice latte every Friday since mid-September? With two sugar cubes. And when you attack the cake, you first eat the frosting, then the rest. That’s weird.”

You could have left it there so you wouldn’t sound like a stalker, but once you started talking, you could not stop.

“I know you feel like something, or someone, is following you. I know you always keep an eye on the door, making sure the exit is clear. I know you never turn your back to it either ― and that’s probably why you are, many a times, reaching for a gun in your belt that is no longer there. I know that you are lonely, but that loneliness is self-imposed. I know you don’t like being touched.”

You had definitely paid Javier Peña too much attention. Your last words did not really sink in until Javier’s amused expression transformed into knitting brows and a fine line for lips.

Had you gone too far in your analysis? Why would you say all those things to a complete stranger? When your slip of tongue dawned on you, you covered your mouth, embarrassed of yourself.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to… I just― I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know why―” Your words came out in a slurred rush, incoherent and unfinished sentences got stuck to the back of your throat through all that stammering.

He leaned back, his arm loosely draped around the empty chair to his right, near the window. Javier then clicked his tongue.

“Well, I had it coming. I did ask, didn’t I?” His reaction surprised you ― you really thought he was going to up and leave because of your insolence.

You let go a sigh of relief, followed by a nervous chuckle as you hugged the notebook close to your chest.

“Was I… too far off?” You ventured, biting down your bottom lip again. Maybe you shouldn’t push your luck.

Javier took a long minute to respond, his eyes scanning every square inch on your face, as if he was trying to assess whether he could confide in you or not. You found yourself hoping he did.

“No, not really.” He conceded, “I do love fall.”

That hint of mischief you saw a week ago twinkled in his eyes again. Under that sombre and stay-away-from-me bearing, there was another Javier. One who could be mischievous and fun. One that you had been itching to know since he first set foot on the café.

This time was your turn to slant your head to one side, crinkling your lips as you attempted to discern if you were wrong about the rest. Was he playing with you?

“And the rest?” You pushed out of curiosity, knowing full well you shouldn’t take such liberty.

Javier shrugged, his shoulders almost touching his ears. Was he trying to hide a smile?

“I do have one more thing to add to my order.” The change of subject told you he did not trust you that much.

A pinch of disappointment settled in your chest. But you knew you shouldn’t feel this way, you didn’t really know him. For all you knew, he could be a serial killer on the lookout for his next victim and being a DEA agent was just a cover.

“Oh, yes, sorry. What else would you like?” You concocted a smile, but this time it felt forced ― too tense on the corners of your mouth.

Your sight was fixed on your notepad, not daring to glance down at him again. If you had, you would have seen his look of confusion. But you didn’t.

“Another pumpkin spice latte.”

You could not hide your surprise, so inevitably you asked, “Are you waiting for someone today?”

As soon as that question abandoned your mouth, you wished it back, mortified at your audacity. It was none of your business. And you didn’t care. Of course you didn’t.

“Yeah, you. You finish your shift in” he looked at his wristwatch, “fifteen minutes, right?”

You were left gobsmacked. Of all the things you had imagined he would say, that would not be an option at all.

“Uh― Ah, y-yeah?”

“See, you’re not the only one who is observant ‘round here. I do know pumpkin spice latte is your favourite drink too.” Javier explained so matter-of-factly, it would have been impossible to correct him. And he was right, anyway. “So, what do you say?”

You had not really given him an answer and he was obviously waiting.

“Yeah. Yes, of course.” You repeated yourself, a wide smile smoothing out your lips, your cheeks slightly blushed. “I’d like that.”

Friday, 30th October 1998

Every Friday for the last four weeks had been exactly the same, and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Come ten past five, Javier would walk in through the door and sit down on the same table after his therapy session just a few blocks away. You would happily trot towards him, notebook on hand ― just a pleasantry, considering you knew his order by heart: two pumpkin spice lattes, one slice of pumpkin cake, two spoons. In fact, you had it written down before you reached him.

And then, every Friday, he would wait for the clock to mark half past five, coffee almost untouched and the cake slice still pristine on the plate. You would tell your teammates that you would be closing down and that they were free to go. You would rush through your tasks to get everything done before the clock read forty past five. A minute later the “Closed” sign would be hanging on the front door.

And then you would sit down with Javier, both lazily sipping away at your coffees and nibbling at the cake, while you shared your hopes, your fears, your ambitions, your struggles, your likes and dislikes, your pasts. His heavily charged with trauma and anguish, yours full of heartbreak and regrets.

You had learnt all about his time in Colombia ― the rise of the Medellin cartel, the fall of Pablo Escobar, the peak of the Cali cartel and the corruption deeply embedded in the Colombian government. And how it all shaped who he was now, how it all shattered him and his view of the world. All the things he had seen that still haunted him to this day, and how badly he wanted it all to go away. How gruesomely tortured he was by it all.

He had split himself open in front of you over the course of the last month, pouring his soul out while trying to detangle the mess his mind was in. And you could not help but feel for him, cry for and with him. His words had reached further down inside you than you were really aware of.

And while he was getting professional help for his PTSD, you liked to think that your long, deep conversations helped him interiorise part of the trauma, come to terms with it as much as he could. He had not said it out loud, not really thanked you either, but he didn’t need to ― you just knew.

You could not have refrained yourself from loving him even if you had tried. Over the course of the last few weeks, you had fallen for him with every detail you discovered about him. But your friendship had developed so quickly and so profoundly, you were afraid of ruining it. Ruining the only real connection you had felt in a long time.

It felt like the moment for love confessions was long gone ― it had slipped through your fingers without you even realising. And now it was too late to change it. Perhaps it was better this way ― you treasured Javier’s friendship more than anything else. You would not bargain with it, not if it meant there was a teeny tiny chance of losing him. You were not a gambler, not with the people you loved.

“I think you should pick up a camera again, see how it feels. Ignore what your parents have always told you for a moment. You don’t have to make a decision now, or ever, really.” Javier encouraged you, his palm flat against the surface, extended towards you, resting halfway through the table.

How badly you wanted to reach for him, to caress the back of his hand with your fingertips. But you didn’t.

“You’re right. It’s all I always wanted to do for a living. My job in finance, it was just their idea, really. They kept telling me that I’d die penniless on the side of a road if I chose photography as my career path.” You sighed, the spice of your coffee filling your sense of smell as you tipped the cup to your lips. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” You asked, an idea forming in your mind.

“No, I was just gonna help my dad on the farm.” Javier replied, a certain interest tinging his voice as he tilted his head ― his chocolate eyes holding your gaze as if it was a staring contest.

You had never met him outside the café, but you were friends. Surely there was nothing weird about meeting up with him tomorrow.

“Well, I was just thinkin’. Brought my camera and equipment when I moved. Tomorrow’s Halloween, could go to the pumpkin patch outside of town to take some pictures. I love taking pictures on fall, the colours are just beautiful. Would you want to join me?” A shy smile hovered over your lips, your heart slightly racing.

Javier’s eyes lingered on your face for an eternal second before he sipped at his coffee. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked ― you knew he didn’t feel comfortable with open spaces, not yet. He had told you about his panic attacks when he returned home and found himself in the open, exposed.

Suddenly, you felt so damn insensitive.

“Sorry, I know y―”

“I’d like that”, he cut you off before you could take the offer back.

Inevitably, your heart swelled, warmth pouring all over your body with his acceptance.

Saturday, 31st October 1998

The car’s door slammed behind you after you rummaged through the backseat to get your backpack. It was full to the brim, as you had taken a few of your lenses, a tripod, a flash you were positive you wouldn’t need, and a few other bits and bobs.

“Sorry!” You apologised as your head buried between your shoulders.

God forbid you made a dent on Javier’s sparkling new Toyota Camry. Well, you didn’t know if it was new, but the car was impeccable inside and out. You were relieved he had offered to pick you up, otherwise he would definitely have judged you for the state your car was in.

“‘S alright.” He muttered, but on the corner of your eye you saw him smoothing out his hand around the edge of the door, ensuring you had not damaged it. “What are you carrying there anyway? Looks like you’re goin’ campin’, pequeña (little one).”

You snickered, Javier by your side in the blink of an eye. So close you could almost feel the warmth he irradiated, even in the crispy, spooky air.

“Oh, ‘s nothing, just a few things here and there that I hope to use later. Might need your help though.” You looked at him askance, measuring his reaction to your petition.

“My help? Mhmm.” He mumbled, almost laconic.

“It’s not too bad. And your aviator sunglasses will come in handy.” You laughed at the confused expression in front of you. “I’m not spoiling it.”

Javier’s lopsided smile made a brief appearance, but it suddenly vanished.

A backfiring noise from an exhaust pipe a few yards away made him flinch, his whole body visibly tautened ― his posture went rigid, his eyes frantically searching his surroundings while his right hand flew to his belt in a vain attempt to grip a gun that wasn’t there.

And then you saw the panic building up in his shielded irises. Even through the yellow tint you watched them darken, so opaque his pupils were indistinguishable from the brown. You could swear he had stopped breathing too, because his chest had not budged one inch.

Quickly you realised what was happening ― the sound from the car nearby had triggered Javier, bringing him back to one of his nightmares. His fight-or-flight response was taking over him, his mind suddenly replaying his time back in Colombia.

When you wrapped your firm hand around his wrist, you could feel his wild pulse under your fingertips ― his heart was beating so hard, it seemed like it was looking for the way out of his torso.

“Javier,” you called his name, giving him a gentle squeeze. He did not respond. “Javi”, you raised your voice over the cacophony on the background, your fingers tighter around his wrist, jerking him close to you.

Slowly he turned to look at you, long eyelashes fluttering, and it took him a moment to gradually come out of his daze.

With your free hand you rubbed his left shoulder, the first time you had been this nigh.

“Hey, Javi, are you okay?” You whispered, his eyes slowly drifting down to your mouth, as he was trying to read your lips rather than listening to your words. “It’s okay, you’re back home. You’re safe. You’re here with me, in a pumpkin patch just outside of Laredo. You’re safe, Javi.” You reassured him in a low voice, the abbreviated version of his name falling from your lips like honey.

You hadn’t realised how scared you were for him until he finally breathed. So did you. Your heart was pounding. Then he nodded, and you thought you saw a sliver of embarrassment in his eyes.

You wanted to comfort him so bad, tell him it was fine to be vulnerable ― but words escaped you, your chest heavy with affliction. The only thing you could do was wrapping your arms around his neck and bring him in for a hug. It only took him a second to swathe your waist, his face partially buried in the crook of your neck.

A shivering sensation down your spine gave you goosebumps. It felt so good having him this close.

“I’m fine.” He hummed eventually, as you both took an unwilling step back.

“I’m sorry. Truly. If you think this is a bad idea, we can just go back.”

He shook his head no.

“No, it’s alright. Gotta push through it at some point. Rather do it with you than alone.” Your heart melted at his words, almost swooning for him.

A soft smile spread across your lips, palming his forearm again. You could not have enough of his touch, of how his skin felt under yours.

“But if at any point it gets to be too much, you’ll let me know. Promise?”

You stuck your pinky out in front of him, asking him to pinky promise he would.

He returned your smile with a devastating one of his own.

“Promise”, was his reply as his pinky wrapped around yours.

Then you both erupted in laughter.

For the next two hours you walked the whole patch together, taking as many pictures as your camera rolls would allow you. Luckily you brought more than one ― knowing yourself too well, you had brought three rolls.

“Hey, Javi! The golden hour is approachin’!”, you shouted at him, amplifying the volume of your voice by placing one hand on the side of your mouth.

Javier’s head poked out in between a humongous pile of an assortment of pumpkins. He went around it to be by your side in a couple of long strides.

“Is this where my aviator glasses come in handy?” He asked with a smidgen of inquisitiveness.

“Spot on. Come, follow me.” You curled your fingers to emphasize your words and you started walking towards a field further ahead.

It was isolated, the yellow grass up to knee height. There were some dead trees around, black branches peppered around the floor. Reaching towards your back, you untied the tripod from the side and set it up, taking your time, while Javi was right behind you.

“So you’re taking pictures of an empty field?” He asked, befuddled.

You just giggled as you knelt and settled your backpack down on the floor. Unzipped it and jumbled stuff around until you found what you were looking for. Snapping your tongue with delight, you pulled out two white bedsheets and a sunglasses case.

“Ha! Here they are!” You enthusiastically presented the objects to a confused Javi, his hands scrunching one of the bedsheets as you handed it to him.

“I don’t get it. You want me to make a bed out in the wilderness or somethin’?”

Shaking your head no, you laughed at his perplexity.

“No, you silly. We’re going to put them over our heads so we look like ghosts, like so.” And then you proceeded to demonstrate, covering yourself with the bedsheet.

Almost blindly, you took your sunglasses out of their case and placed them on the bridge of your nose and over the bedsheet.

“Voilà!” You extended your arms, showcasing your masterpiece to Javier.

You could barely see him through the linen, but his laughter reached your ears. You couldn’t help but smile wide as you grabbed one of the sides and pulled it up to uncover your face.

“I want you to do the same. I’ll set a timer on the camera, and we run over there.” You pointed to a space between some fallen trunks. “And then we just do some silly poses.”

“…Okay?” The hesitation in his voice was faked, because you could see a grin pinching the corners of his mouth.

“Trust me, it’ll look great. I’m a visionnaire!” You said with confidence as you turned around and set the timer. “Go, come on, run!”

You both sprinted to the specific spot you had directed your camera at, and quickly covered yourselves with the bedsheets. Laughing out loud, you both put the sunglasses over your faces and started posing while the camera clicked away at timed intervals.

Back to back with arms folded; one sitting down on the trunk while the other stood up behind; both hiding behind some dead trees with your heads sticking out; just staying still and very straight looking at the lens.

Even Javi got into it by the end, suggesting a few poses of his own occurrence.

You both were having so much fun, cackling so loud, you had tears pouring over your waterlines. You even bent at your waist, hands against your knees, while you tried to catch a breath. Javi was by your side chortling like a kid without a worry in the world.

You pulled the sheet off you and Javi followed suit. You could tell he also had teared up and that tugged at your heart.

“I wish we could see them now, but we’ll have to wait until I develop them.”

You stepped forward to get to the camera, but you tripped with the bedsheet. Clumsy as always, you waved your arms in a vain attempt to regain balance, and failed ― the grass on the ground hurrying towards your face, or, well― quite the opposite.

When you thought you were going to hit the floor, Javi’s broad hand clasped around your elbow and pushed you up, until your chest flushed with his. His mouth was so close to yours, his lips agape and so inviting, you licked your bottom one as you gauged the situation.

“You okay, pequeña?” His voice was just a hush in the confines of your mind.

Unable to speak due to his proximity, you just nodded as your eyes locked on his. This time there were no sunglasses covering his beautiful orbs ― giving you the opportunity to look into the abyss. His abyss. One you had been wanting to jump into for as long as you had known him.

His free hand rested on the small of your back, pressing you into him while his lips were dangerously close to yours. You could smell the hints of tobacco, the old spice, the sandalwood, all of it hijacking your senses.

Something passed between you two. Something that had been there for a while now; something you had not allowed yourself to see.

Too scared to ruin the friendship you so much cherished. Too frightened to have your heart broken again. Too afraid to make a move and be rejected.

But you didn’t need to.

Javier did.

In slow motion, he bowed his head down until his soft, warm lips ghosted yours. A light caress that made your heart jump a beat. And then he pressed them sweetly against your parted mouth, his tongue testing the waters between your teeth as you let him in.

Draping your arms around his neck, you kissed him fondly, tenderly, with all the love you had been stockpiling for a while. With his hands now on your hips, his thumbs gently rubbed the skin under your tee shirt, while your fingers raked through his hair.

And then, in the background, a clicking sound, then a flash. The kiss came to an end, not without Javi leaving a few chaste pecks on your lips before your mouths untangled.

You pressed your right cheek on his chest, eyeing the camera, and chuckled.

“It’s been taking pictures the whole time.” You told him, looking up at him with your chin against his sternum.

“Good. I’d like to have a memento of this moment, pequeña”, Javi cooed as he leaned back down to press another kiss.

“That makes two of us.” You purred, smiling into his mouth before his tongue sought yours again.

The distant howl of a wolf breached the haziness of the kiss and interrupted you. Only then, you realised that the sun had set down a while ago, and a red moon dominated the sky. The atmosphere was rather eerie, almost spooky.

“There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.” You quoted a sentence you had read once. “So maybe the moon has howled, and not a wolf?” That was your attempt at staying here, in your perfect, tiny bubble, a little bit longer.

Javi smiled, brushing his lips against yours.

“I rather not find out. Let’s head back, pequeña.”

He grabbed your hand, your fingers laced together, and pulled you towards the camera, him walking one step ahead of you.

One last click captured the final moment as you both sauntered towards it, hands intertwined, and Javi looking over his shoulder right at you.

[melancholyhigh]

pls more dbf! Leon I can’t get enough of this man omfhhdhd

who has the choice like smarty does?

ft. dbf!leon x fem!reader

synopsis. you decide to bake a cake for your dad which leads to leon telling you what his favourite flavour is.

content. 1.8k words. fluff, smut. age gap, domesticity, baking, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, protected p in v, kitchen sex.

note. i hope you guys enjoy this one. i just want to be old man leon's pretty wife <33

masterlist. part one. part two. part three. i love feedback & requests :))

Since your dad left for his mission, you often found yourself in Leon’s apartment, bringing you a sense of solace which you lacked. 

The past few days, waking up to him felt like a dream. Your eyes flutter open, only to be met with tired eyes and a sweet smile. 

It’s a crime to look that good in the morning, you thought.

Leon had thought it’d be nice to let you stay at his place for a while. He was constantly at your home, and it would’ve been a nice change of pace. He tried to disguise it as him being concerned for your anxieties about your father’s health and not a means to see you around more often in his apartment. 

In all honesty, his apartment initially did not look used. It looked similar to when he first moved in, and nothing had changed that much. Since staying with him, his miserable apartment (and life) felt alive. 

“Good morning, Lee,” you mumbled drowsily, snuggling into his bare chest, your arms enclosing his waist. 

“Good mornin’, sweetheart.” Damn, his morning voice was sexy.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. Recently, most mornings consist of the both of you lying on his bed in each other's arms, eyes shut, putting off the day’s responsibilities.

The moment is cut short by the ring of your phone, and you groan loudly. The tune of your phone’s ringtone still plays as you contemplate answering it. 

You did not want to deal with your friends right now. After finding out about Leon after he accidentally answered the phone while giving it to you, they relentlessly teased you for it.

Leon stretches his arm out to the bedside table to retrieve your phone. 

“It’s your dad,” Leon mentions, and you quickly sit upright, taking the phone from his hold and answering it.  

You observe as Leon kisses your cheek before leaving his room, giving you the privacy to talk with your dad. 

“Hey, sleepyhead, doing alright?” Your dad greets you, his words breaking up due to the poor connection.

“I’m fine, Dad. Are you okay? Your mission took longer than normal,” you asked, voice shaky.

You wanted to burst into tears. Your dad said it was supposed to be a regular mission, but it lasted almost two weeks. Usually, it takes about a week, and he calls you halfway through even though it’s not allowed. 

You hear a rustling noise, then a deep sigh, “there was a mix-up. I did more work than planned, but I’m fine now, not badly injured or anything– just tired.”

You let out a breath of relief. “When will you get back home?”

“Uhh… tomorrow for sure. I’ve got to get some results back, and then I’m free as a bird. Everything good with you, though, hun? Leon’s been treating ya good?”

“Leon? Yeah! He’s the sweetest. I'm glad you met him.” There’s a smile on your lips as you answer his question. You were honest with every word you said. Leon had become your recent source of comfort.

“That’s good. Leon’s a great guy. I wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t like him,” your dad jested. You hear a voice in the background call out your dad’s name. 

“Oh shit– Bye, honey. See ya tomorrow.”

“Bye, Dad,” you respond before hanging up.

Stumbling out of bed, the conversation with your father makes you question a few things as you head to the kitchen.

How would your dad react to your not-so-platonic relationship with Leon? Your dad did enjoy Leon’s presence. After all, Leon was his best bud, but would he approve of your relationship? Your father was always calm — albeit a bit unpredictable at times — so you don’t think he’d be infuriated. Not to mention Leon highly respected him and his craft. 

I mean, he said it himself, Leon is a great guy. He’s undoubtedly caring towards you.

Leon spots you as you enter the room. He can’t help but think you look so cute in the morning, wearing nothing but his oversized black t-shirt and plain white panties, which seems to be your go-to outfit lately. You’re wiping the sleep out of your eyes as you make your way over to him. 

“G’morning, baby. Is your dad okay?” Leon asks, handing you a mug of coffee prepared how you like it. 

“Mhm, he’s fine. Old man doesn’t know when to take a break,” you replied, taking a sip from the mug. “He’s gonna back by tomorrow, by the way.” 

Leon exhales, “That’s great. I was worried. Your dad is usually quick when it comes to his work. I guess his old age is finally catching up to him.”

–-

You decided to be the sweetest daughter in the world and bake a cake for your father’s inconvenience. Usually, you’re at classes when he’s on his work trips, unable to welcome him the way you used to when you were younger. 

You learnt at a way too young of age about your father’s job, remembering as a kid waiting for him to come home. That often left you to think of ways to surprise him when he gets back, which leads to you and your aunt baking a cake using premade cake mix. 

This time it’s special because it’ll be a homemade cake! 

You were shocked that Leon even had the ingredients in his pantry to make one.

The cake was in the oven as you prepared some icing you stole from someone’s cooking blog. Your dad was a simple man with a simple taste opting for a classic vanilla because chocolate was too sweet for him.

“Hey, Lee, what’s your favourite cake flavour? Maybe I can make it for you sometime .” You pondered aloud. 

Leon glances at you from his sudoku puzzle on his morning papers. You looked enticing in his apron, a cheesy quote plastered on the front, covered in flour — similar to the shirt he was wearing now.

It had him thinking. Coming home from work to his sweet girl baking him his favourite treat would be enough to make a grown man blush. Maybe it’d be the other way around, you coming home from classes or work as he prepares your favourite meal for you to unwind. 

Either way, it had his cock throbbing within the confinements of his pants. 

He gets up from the dining table, walking to your area at the kitchen counter. He looms behind you as he wraps his strong arms under your (his) graphic tee, resting his chin on your shoulder, the stubble on his face tickling your neck. His touch makes the hair on your skin rise.

“You’re my favourite flavour, sweetheart.” God, he was fucking cheesy. 

He’s sloppily kissing the fading marks along your shoulder blade, and you immediately stop what you’re doing, swallowing deeply at his actions.

“Leon..” you gasp softly. His nose presses up to the column of your throat.

“Let me eat you out, pretty girl,” he pleads. His hands are now gripping your hips when you turn around to face him. Leon kisses your lips softly, tilting his head as he groans into the kiss. You loved how vocal he gets with you. Each sound he made makes your cunt pulse with want. 

His palms are under your thighs as he helps you onto the cool marble countertops. Pulling away from your lips, he spreads your thighs apart. The cloth of the apron and shirt bunches up, revealing your pretty panties, soaked through. Leon moans at the sight. 

Gripping your thighs in his strong hands, he leans down, kissing the hickeys trailing up your thigh before his tongue pushes up against your pussy, the fabric of your panties rubbing against your clit.

You whimper as he laps at your drenched panties. You use your palms as support on the counter behind you, subtly rutting your hips to his mouth. 

“Fuck,” you gasp when he pulls your panties off and tosses them to the side. Your ass is halfway off the counter as he draws you near his face, admiring your cunt leaking with your arousal.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles, spreading your lips apart and kissing the sensitive bud, sending electricity through your body. You don’t know whether you find it endearing or obnoxious as he talks to your pussy. He’s such a dork. 

His tongue flattens against your cunt, intently lapping at you as you breathe heavily. You taste so fucking good, he thinks. Nose bumping your clit as he ravages your poor cunt.

His tongue delves into your hole, moving in and out. One of your hands moves to his dark locks tugging on it, a silent plead. He whines into your pussy, reverberating throughout your body, leaving you needy.

Leon palms his cock through his pants. He’s unbelievably hard as his lips move to your clit, sucking on the bud roughly, adoring each sound that falls from your lips, letting out his own groans and moans into your cunt. He could do this for hours. 

“‘M cumming, Leon,” you cry, your thighs clamping around his head as you climax. 

If you suffocated him to death, at least he died doing the thing he loved. 

Lifting from your thighs, he licks his lips, peering at you. His hair is dishevelled as he runs his hand through it attempting to fix it. 

He nudges his bulge to your dripping cunt. He got so hard from just eating you out. 

Your hands rush to help him rid himself of his pants and briefs. He moves to get a condom from his pocket, swiftly ripping the packaging and slipping it on his aching cock.

He runs the head along your folds, nudging it against your abused clit. You wrap your arms around Leon’s shoulders, moving your lips against his as he slowly pushes his cock into you. Your gummy walls clench around him while you whimper softly into the kiss. He fills you up perfectly with his thick length.

Your legs encircle his taut waist as he thrusts slowly into your pussy. The tip of his cock curving perfectly, hitting the spot that makes you dizzy. Leon picks up his pace, and the rhythm of his hips ends up sloppy. 

“Fuck, your pussy’s squeezing me tight, pretty girl,” he huffs, messily fucking you. You grip this bicep for support, nails digging into the flesh. 

“Wanted to fuck you here since the first time you walked into my place.” He groans, his calloused palm squeezing your tits through your shirt and apron. “Planned to fuck you on every surface.”

“Leon…” you whine, your cunt spasming around his fat cock as he repeatedly grinds into you.

“That’s it, baby. Cum f’me.”

He spills into the condom with a loud groan. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as you try to even out your breathing, and you think you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life with him.