#along with the laundry mat

[peonypyxels]

little thrift shop

[skiesuconn]

Scream First, Flirt Later | ONE-SHOT

pairing: paige n azzi notes from author: hey! it took me a while to get satisfied with how it would go, but i'm really happy with how it turned out. i'm working on the laundry mat mix-up idea i had, but it's going to take a bit of time. i'd love if anyone sent me some prompts; i already have a few requests, but it’s okay. you can also expect chapter 3 of ''wdftl'' soon. happy reading. wc: 6k

The cold wind whipped against Azzi’s face as she stood at the entrance of the corn maze, shivering just enough to make her wish she'd put on something heavier. She tugged at her cream beige hoodie, pulling it tighter around her body, wishing she could find some warmth in the chill of the evening. Her white cream cargos swished with each step she took, and the sound of her Uggs crunching against the gravel was oddly comforting, grounding her in a moment that felt so different from the controlled routine she was used to.

Azzi tucked a curl behind her ear, feeling the weight of it against her cheek. Her hair was wild and chaotic, and she knew the moment she walked into the maze, all those untamed curls would probably draw a few too many glances. Her natural brown curls, the ones she tried to tame and hide under beanies and hats, always seemed to have a life of their own, and she hated the way they looked like they were trying to rebel. But tonight, they stayed out. Tonight, she’d let them roam free, just like her mind.

Madeline was bouncing around in her thick scarf, giggling with Rory, who was adjusting her glasses for the third time. Azzi caught the end of their conversation, the sound of their laughter mixing with the cold air.

“You’re going to love it,” Madeline said, grinning at Azzi, her oversized glasses slipping down her nose. “A night away from all your studying? You deserve this.”

“I think you both have more confidence in me than I do,” Azzi said with a dry smile, shaking her head. “But fine, I'll give it a try. This whole thing does seem kind of fun.”

Rory nodded solemnly, her plaid coat swaying as she adjusted her scarf. “Trust me, we need this. A bit of chaos to shake things up. You know, like real life.”

Azzi laughed softly, but her eyes scanned the maze again. The event organizers were there, wearing creepy costumes to set the spooky vibe for the maze, and they were handing out pamphlets to each group. One of the organizers, dressed like a grim reaper, waved them over, the cold moonlight reflecting off his white, skeletal face.

“Welcome to the maze!” he said in a voice too deep and ominous for Azzi’s liking. “You will find clues along the way, some hidden, some very much in plain sight. Beware of the monsters though—they’re tricky. Oh, and we’ve had a few… surprises before. Stay alert.”

Azzi’s stomach tightened. For a moment, she considered turning back to the warmth of Madeline's apartment. But she didn’t.

“Okay, okay, we got it,” Madeline chirped, her eyes sparkling. “We’re going to find those clues, I’m telling you. Come on, Azzi, let’s go! I think there’s a clue to the left.”

Azzi nodded and gave Madeline a small smile, walking with them into the maze. The three of them wandered through the twisting pathways, their voices mixing with the rustling of the dry corn stalks. Azzi’s eyes flitted over the terrain, but she couldn’t seem to relax. This wasn’t her world, not really. She liked control. She liked order. She liked knowing what came next.

But something about the maze, with its towering corn and winding paths, made her feel like she was on the edge of something… new. And that thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Eventually, Madeline and Rory disappeared around a corner, leaving Azzi standing in the soft, shifting light. The wind tugged at her beanie, and she brushed her curls behind her ear again, but her mind was elsewhere—distracted by the eerie quiet. Then, she saw it: the scarecrow, standing tall in a patch of moonlight.

The scarecrow’s presence made her heart skip a beat. It was too lifelike, its eyes too real in a way that felt unnatural. She took a few steps forward, curious, but her feet were hesitant, as though something was urging her to keep away. The paper stuck to its chest seemed like an invitation—and her mind, always overthinking, couldn’t help but reach for it.

Her fingers brushed against the edge of the paper, and that’s when the scarecrow moved.

Azzi gasped, stumbling backward, the wind picking up as the scarecrow jerked, its head snapping toward her in a way that felt far too human.

But before she could react, something strong and solid gripped her waist. The warmth of the body that pulled her back against it sent a jolt through Azzi’s chest.

“Whoa, hey, I’ve got you.” The voice was low and teasing, and Azzi immediately felt the strength of the arms around her. She was pulled against the chest of someone tall and broad, and for a second, she just froze.

When she looked up, her heart did an uncomfortable flip.

The woman grinning down at her was tall—so much taller than Azzi—and she carried herself with an athletic confidence that was hard to ignore. Paige’s blue eyes twinkled in the dim light, her lips curved in a cocky grin. She was wearing a tight flannel shirt, rolled-up sleeves revealing toned forearms. Her arms, muscular and strong, held Azzi steady, and it took everything in Azzi not to notice how solid her body felt.

"Got a little scared there?" Paige teased, her smirk only widening. She let go of Azzi slowly, just enough for Azzi to regain her balance but not enough to feel like she had any space.

Azzi blinked, disoriented, her pulse quickening. "I… I wasn’t expecting that." Her voice came out shakier than she'd intended.

Paige chuckled, giving her a half-shrug. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point of a scarecrow, right? Thought I might as well do a little bit of scaring.”

Azzi stared at her a second longer than she should have, her mind scrambling for a response. Her gaze flickered over Paige’s strong arms, the way her muscles shifted beneath the flannel, the faint hint of a tattoo peeking from under her sleeve. Confidence radiated from her in waves.

Paige tilted her head, as if she could read Azzi’s thoughts. “You alright?” she asked, her voice softening just a touch.

Azzi blinked, momentarily lost in the way Paige looked at her. “Yeah,” she stammered, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Just... startled. That’s all.”

Paige chuckled, but this time, it was quieter, more self-aware. “You should’ve seen the look on your face. I’ve scared people before, but you—" She waggled her eyebrows. "You really got me thinking I went too far.”

Azzi’s heart skipped. “I’m sure you have some wild stories,” she said, trying to sound casual.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” Paige grinned, leaning in just a little. “Like the time I made this guy scream so loud, he dropped his entire drink.” She lowered her voice dramatically. “Not my fault he didn’t see the creepy skeleton behind him.”

Azzi snorted despite herself, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I’m sure you’re so proud.”

“Hey,” Paige raised an eyebrow, “I’m a professional. It’s a gift.”

They stood there a beat longer, the maze spinning around them, but Azzi couldn’t help noticing how alive Paige seemed. It was like she didn’t care what anyone thought—she was just here, and she was going to have fun. Azzi wasn’t sure what that did to her chest, but the pull was undeniable.

“So, what happens now?” Azzi asked, suddenly more aware of how tightly she was clutching her paper.

Paige smirked. “Well, for starters, you don’t need that paper anymore. Trust me,” she said, her grin widening. “I can show you the way out.”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers still tight around the paper before she finally let it drop.

The cold air bit at Azzi’s cheeks, but she barely noticed, still replaying the way Paige had smirked at her like she had all the answers to the universe. They walked toward the exit, the dim lighting of the maze casting long shadows that flickered with their movement. The warmth of Paige’s presence next to her made Azzi forget the chill in the air. Or maybe it was the way Paige carried herself—like she wasn’t just walking, but sauntering. Confident. Azzi couldn’t help but steal glances at her.

Paige was talking, her voice playful. “You should’ve seen this guy. Six foot five? Built like a linebacker. I pop out from behind the corn, full scarecrow stance—arms stiff like this.” She demonstrated, making Azzi giggle. “I let out this awful groan, like—” Paige dropped into a deep, eerie growl that made Azzi jump, before she burst into laughter. “Dude screams. Not just a little yelp, like he’s in a horror movie. Drops his phone, turns around, and just bolts. Leaves his girlfriend behind.”

Azzi gasped, covering her mouth. “No way. What did she do?”

“She straight-up dumped him on the spot.” Paige’s grin turned wicked. “Told him if he couldn’t handle a haunted corn maze, he couldn’t handle her.”

Azzi shook her head, grinning. “I mean… valid.”

Paige chuckled. “Then there was this guy who tried to fight me. Swung his arms like he was battling a demon. Had to break character and go, ‘Dude, I work here.’”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Wait, do you ever feel bad scaring people like that?”

Paige tilted her head as though pondering the question. “Nah. That’s what they’re here for. The only people I don’t scare are kids. I love those little guys.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You? A six-foot-tall menace in flannel? You like kids?”

Paige smirked. “What? You don’t think I look like a ‘likes kids’ type?”

“Not even a little bit,” Azzi admitted, watching Paige carefully. “I figured you’d say you scare them for fun.”

Paige placed a dramatic hand over her heart. “You wound me, woman.”

Azzi ignored the flutter in her chest. “So what do you do instead?”

Paige shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Make sure they’re having fun. High-fives for the ones who make it through. If they’re scared, I just wave 'em past.”

Azzi didn’t mean to stare, but it was... kind of adorable. A tall, cocky scare actor with a soft spot for kids? That contrast was unexpectedly endearing. Paige caught her looking and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” Azzi said too quickly, biting back a smile. “It’s just... cute.”

“Oh, so now I’m cute?” Paige shot back, leaning in just enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch. “Wasn’t so cute when you were clinging to me like I was your last hope for survival, huh?”

Azzi shoved her lightly, heart racing. “Shut up.”

They reached the exit, and Paige slowed her steps. “Alright, here’s the deal. I need to change out of this.” She gestured to the scarecrow getup. “If I walk around like this, someone’s gonna rat me out. And I’m probably not supposed to be escorting guests through the maze.”

Azzi smirked, her dark eyes glinting with playful amusement. “You think?”

Paige grinned, completely at ease. “I need about five minutes. Meet me by the coffee van?”

Azzi nodded, a faint smirk still lingering. “Five minutes.”

Paige jogged off toward a small booth near the staff area, peeling off the scarecrow jacket as she went. The jacket dragged behind her, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t trying to look cool—she was just trying to get out of the costume. All she could think about was the way Azzi’s smile made her chest feel tight, a kind of tightness that made her wonder just how long this connection was going to haunt her.

She changed quickly, swapping the scarecrow outfit for something that felt more... her. Ocean-blue jeans that fit perfectly, hugging her thighs and tapering down to her ankles. A dark coat with deep pockets, filled with everything she needed—snacks, her phone, maybe even a rogue basketball for later. The beanie she grabbed from a random table completed the look. Paige didn’t care that it was messy. It only added to her charm.

She glanced at her reflection in a car window before heading back outside. Not bad. Maybe even... kind of good?

Azzi was right where she said she’d be, standing by the coffee van, hands tucked into the sleeves of her oversized hoodie. She looked effortlessly warm despite the cold, as if she hadn’t just spent hours in a scarecrow costume herself. Paige felt that familiar tug in her chest again. Maybe it was just the night air... Or maybe it was something more.

Azzi looked up as Paige approached, her lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “Took you long enough.”

Paige’s eyebrows shot up in mock offense. “Excuse me?” she said, giving Azzi an exaggerated look of offense. “Had to make sure I wasn’t smelling like hay.”

Azzi wrinkled her nose, the slightest hint of amusement dancing across her features. “Good call. I’m not into hay, personally.”

Paige smirked and closed the gap between them, unable to resist teasing Azzi further. “By the way,” she said casually, “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

Azzi blinked, her smile faltering for a split second. “Oh. It’s Azzi.”

Paige furrowed her brows. “Wait, spell that for me.”

Azzi’s lips curled into a quiet laugh. “A-Z-Z-I.”

Paige squinted dramatically, like she was deciphering a hidden code. “Damn, that’s tricky. Sounds like an old head name.”

Azzi gasped in mock offense, her hand flying to her chest. “Excuse me?”

Paige just shrugged, a grin tugging at her lips. “I’m just saying. That’s an old-school name. Bet you were out here settling the frontier or something.”

Azzi nudged her playfully, but the smile on her face didn’t quite reach her eyes. Paige staggered a little in the cold. “Shut up. You just can’t spell.”

“Listen,” Paige said, laughing, “that might also be true, but I still think you’re an old head.”

Azzi threw her hands up, trying not to laugh. “Bet. I’m officially washed. You figured me out.”

The exchange left Paige with a grin she couldn’t shake. She wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something so easy about being around Azzi. Something so natural. Even the way she laughed felt comfortable, like a sound Paige could get used to hearing every day.

The warm steam from their mugs curled around them, mingling with the crisp night air. The scent of autumn—damp leaves, the earthiness of the season, and a trace of pumpkin spice—lingered, settling in the spaces between them. They stood near a lamppost, its soft glow illuminating their faces, casting a quiet, intimate light over them. Paige caught Azzi’s gaze and held it just a moment longer than necessary, her heartbeat quickening. Azzi’s deep, doe-like brown eyes were magnetic, and there was something in the way they looked at her that made Paige feel like she was falling into something more than she’d bargained for—something too easy to lose herself in.

Azzi broke the silence first, her voice warm with a quiet amusement. “Okay, that was actually perfect. I’m not usually a hot chocolate person, but this... this was surprisingly good.”

Paige raised her mug, her fingers curling around the warmth of it. “Told you,” she said, her voice low but confident. “I’m practically a hot chocolate connoisseur. It’s one of my hidden talents.”

Azzi smirked, clearly amused. “Hidden talents? You’re telling me you’re also a hot chocolate expert?”

Paige let out a soft laugh, a flicker of mischief dancing across her features. “Oh, absolutely,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of seriousness that made Azzi’s lips twitch into a smile. “I take it very seriously. Ready to be impressed?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but intrigued. “I’m not so sure. You’ve got a lot to prove.”

The air between them shifted, just slightly, as their easy banter deepened into something more. The playful teasing hung in the space between them, but the undercurrent of something unspoken—the quiet tug in their chest—was undeniable. Paige took another sip, her eyes briefly meeting Azzi’s, her chest tightening in that familiar way. They didn’t need to speak for the moment to stretch just a little longer than expected.

Then, just as the atmosphere grew heavier, a voice from the coffee van cut through the tension, a touch too casual, like something from a romcom.

The barista, a scruffy guy with a beanie perched too confidently on his head, leaned out of the window, scanning them both with an amused grin. “So,” he said, his voice dripping with teasing curiosity. “Are you two, like... a couple or something?”

Paige choked on her drink, sputtering out a laugh as she quickly wiped her mouth. “What? No,” she said, a little too quickly, her voice stumbling over the words. “We’re just... two people with a mutual appreciation for hot chocolate.”

Azzi glanced at her, the flush creeping up her neck. Her voice was quieter, almost to herself, as she mumbled, “Yeah, definitely not a couple.”

The barista raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but gave them an exaggerated wink. “Sure, sure. I’ll leave you two... lovebirds to it.”

Azzi’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and Paige couldn’t hold back her smile any longer, the teasing edge of it laced with something else—something a little softer. “Guess we’re a couple now?” she said, her voice low, amused but carrying that thread of warmth she couldn’t quite ignore.

Azzi smacked her lightly, her face still flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else. “Shut up,” she muttered, but the smile tugging at the corners of her lips was telling. She hid behind her mug, still not quite able to cover up the warmth that had taken over her expression. “You’re impossible.”

Paige smiled softly, watching Azzi with a fondness that caught her off guard. There was something undeniably endearing about her—the way she tried to hide the softness in her laugh, the way she lit up over something as simple as a hot chocolate. It was the kind of sweetness that felt rare, and Paige found herself drawn to it more than she cared to admit.

A couple? Paige wasn’t sure about that. But whatever this was between them, it was something that had been quietly occupying her thoughts lately. --

Paige stood, extending her hand with a playful, dramatic flourish. “Let’s go. I’ll show you how it’s really done.”

Azzi hesitated for a beat before standing and following Paige toward the small pumpkin patch set up nearby. The distant crackling of a fire pit added an intimate warmth to the cool night air.

They settled onto a bench, pumpkins scattered between them. Paige handed Azzi a carving knife, her grin a mixture of confidence and something else—something a little more flirtatious.

“I’ll warn you now,” Paige said, settling beside Azzi with a casual ease. “I’m basically a professional at this.”

Azzi chuckled, her voice laced with teasing doubt. “Oh really? I’m sure you are.”

Paige’s hands moved with practiced precision, the knife cutting through the pumpkin effortlessly. Azzi tried to follow her lead, but her grip felt awkward, the knife hesitant. It wasn’t going as smoothly as she’d hoped.

“I swear, I’m the worst at this,” Azzi muttered, frowning as she worked at the pumpkin’s face.

Paige leaned closer, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

The proximity was startling, and Azzi’s pulse picked up when she felt the heat of Paige’s body just behind her. Paige’s hand brushed against hers as she took the knife, the touch brief but electric. Azzi swallowed, her focus momentarily faltering as the space between them seemed to shrink.

Paige’s body leaned in closer, their sides brushing as Paige’s steady hand guided the knife with a practiced ease. Azzi’s breath caught as the warmth of Paige’s body pressed against her back, the sensation far too intimate for a pumpkin carving session.

For a split second, everything around them seemed to fade. The sounds of the night, the crackling fire, even the cold air, all became distant. All Azzi could focus on was the pressure of Paige’s body behind hers, the way her breath seemed to slow and draw in sync with Paige’s.

Azzi’s hand slipped, brushing the inside of Paige’s thigh, and she froze. A wave of warmth rushed to her face as she quickly pulled back, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sorry.”

Paige’s response was soft, almost amused. “It’s fine, Azzi. You don’t need to apologize.”

Azzi’s cheeks darkened. “I wasn’t—ugh, I didn’t mean to—”

Paige smirked, her voice smooth and teasing. “Accidental hand placement is an art form, really.”

Azzi let out a nervous laugh, but her heartbeat was still racing. She tried to focus on the pumpkin, but it was impossible to ignore how close Paige was—how her warmth lingered just behind her, settling into Azzi’s bones.

Paige’s voice shifted, lowering, taking on an almost intimate quality. “Alright, let’s fix this,” she said, taking the knife from Azzi’s hand. “You’ve got to trust the knife,” she added with a wink, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear. “And trust me.”

Azzi leaned back slightly, doing her best to ignore the heat from Paige’s body radiating into hers. But the subtle brush of Paige’s breath against the back of her neck had her pulse surging again. She could hear the steady rhythm of Paige’s breathing, close and intimate, sending shivers through her spine.

“See?” Paige finally pulled back, holding up the pumpkin with a proud grin. “The secret to pumpkin carving? You’ve got to let go and have a little fun with it.”

Azzi blinked, staring at the finished carving. “That’s… actually impressive.” She couldn’t help but smirk. “I might start calling you the pumpkin whisperer.”

Paige took a dramatic bow before plopping the pumpkin on her head like a crown. “Behold, the Pumpkin Queen,” she declared with exaggerated grandeur, striking a playful pose.

Azzi snorted, unable to stifle her laughter. “Oh my God, what are you doing?”

Paige shot her a cheeky grin. “Starting a trend. You’ll thank me later. I’m basically setting fashion history.”

Azzi doubled over, clutching her stomach as laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. “You’re ridiculous,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “But also? I can’t stop laughing.”

Paige removed the pumpkin and gave it a playful spin in her hands. “You’re welcome. It’s all part of my charm.”

Azzi wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “Honestly? You just made this night a hundred times better.”

Paige’s playful smirk softened into something more genuine, her eyes meeting Azzi’s with a quiet intensity. “That’s the goal.” --

They stepped out of the maze together, the city lights flickering in the distance, mingling with the faint hum of passing cars. The cold air nipped at Azzi’s cheeks, but the warmth in her chest lingered. Maybe it was from laughing too hard, or maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the girl beside her.

Paige stretched her arms behind her head, tilting her face up toward the sky. “You know, I really outdid myself this year,” she mused, flashing Azzi a sideways smirk. “Scared a solid ten people into screaming. Three ran. One even tripped and fell into the corn.”

Azzi scoffed, but a smile tugged at her lips. “And you’re proud of that?”

Paige chuckled, nodding. “Oh, absolutely.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly between them as they walked through the city, neon lights reflecting in the puddles on the pavement. Azzi found herself completely caught up in Paige’s stories—each one more outrageous than the last. There was a warmth to Paige’s voice, a way she animated her words, her hands cutting through the air with each ridiculous tale. Azzi barely noticed when their shoulders brushed or when Paige’s fingers accidentally skimmed the back of her hand.

Azzi caught herself when Paige leaned in a little too close, her voice dropping into a low, teasing whisper as she continued her story. “And then, this one dude, biggest guy I’ve ever seen, looked me dead in the eyes and—”

Azzi’s breath hitched when Paige’s hand brushed lightly over her arm. It was a brief touch, but it sent a jolt through her chest, a weird mix of electricity and something else she couldn’t quite place. Paige had a way of taking up space—of just being there—that made Azzi suddenly hyper-aware of every little movement, every brush of skin, as if something was shifting between them that neither of them had planned for.

By the time they reached Azzi’s apartment, the night was winding down, but there was an energy between them that still buzzed. The soft glow from the porch light cast a warm halo around them, and Azzi found herself lingering in the doorway, wishing she could keep this feeling going just a little longer.

“That was... fun,” Azzi said, shifting on her feet, suddenly unsure of herself. She gave a soft laugh. “Not what I expected, but in a good way.”

Paige tilted her head, studying her with that grin of hers, half-smirk and half something else—something softer. “Yeah? Glad I could keep you entertained.”

Azzi’s fingers nervously tugged at the hem of her hoodie, her heart racing in her chest. She glanced up at Paige briefly, then quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing. “And… thanks. For walking me home. You didn’t have to.”

Paige’s lips curved into a soft, teasing smile, her eyes still glimmering with amusement. “You insisted,” she teased, her voice warm and low. “Said you wanted to get here safely.”

Azzi’s shy smile tugged at her lips, her hands fidgeting with the fabric of her hoodie, fingers twisting the material as her stomach fluttered with nervous excitement. “I did.”

Paige took a deliberate step closer, closing the distance between them, her presence overwhelming. Azzi’s breath hitched as she felt the magnetic pull of Paige’s nearness. Her body responded instinctively, drawn in by the heat radiating from Paige. The warmth of Paige’s breath caressed Azzi’s skin, and the air between them became charged, thick with unspoken desire.

"So," Paige’s voice was low, husky, with an undercurrent of something more intense. “If I asked if I could kiss you right now, what would you say?”

Azzi’s breath caught in her throat, the question settling into her chest like a weight, both thrilling and terrifying. Her eyes flicked between Paige’s lips and her eyes, the unspoken emotions swirling between them. Without thinking, she closed the gap, her body instinctively gravitating toward Paige. The world around them faded into the background as Azzi’s heart pounded, the pulse of it syncing with the rapid rhythm of her breaths.

Paige didn’t hesitate. She leaned in, and when their lips met, it was like everything snapped into place.

The kiss wasn’t tentative. It was fierce, hungry, as if they had both been waiting for this moment far too long. Azzi’s hands flew to the thick lapels of Paige’s coat, pulling her closer, desperate to feel more of her. The coat slipped off Paige’s shoulders, discarded carelessly onto the floor as the kiss deepened. Paige’s strong hands moved over Azzi’s body, every touch sending a wave of heat crashing through her.

Azzi’s chest pressed against Paige’s as she felt her hands trail down, exploring the curves of her waist and hips. Her breath became shallow as Paige’s hands cupped her ass, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. Azzi gasped, her body weightless in Paige’s hold, the sensation of being held like that sending a jolt of electricity through her. She instinctively wrapped her legs around Paige’s waist, clinging to her as they moved. Every inch of Paige’s body felt solid, strong, and warm beneath her hands.

The heat between them was unbearable, each moment pulling them closer to the edge. Azzi’s hands roamed over Paige’s chest, her fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt, unable to steady herself as her body reacted to every touch.

They stumbled forward, the pressure of their bodies pressing against one another as Paige backed them toward the apartment. Azzi could feel the metal railing near the stairs, but before Paige could react, her back collided with it. The impact made Azzi burst into laughter, breathless and giddy, the tension momentarily breaking as they stood there, still tangled in each other.

Azzi’s eyes sparkled with amusement, her voice breathy with laughter. “Oh my God, you’re a mess,” she teased, her hands resting on Paige’s chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt.

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Shut up,” she murmured, leaning in again, this time kissing Azzi harder, more urgently. Azzi’s body responded immediately, her chest pressing into Paige’s, her hands sliding down to grasp the waistband of Paige’s jeans.

Azzi’s fingers brushed over the fabric, teasing the edges, and Paige groaned against her lips, her hands pulling Azzi closer, almost desperately. Azzi’s body hummed with anticipation, her chest heaving as she pressed herself into Paige, every touch sending waves of electricity through her.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Azzi pulled away, eyes catching something in Paige’s hair. She reached up, fingers gently grazing through the soft strands, her lips curving into a playful smile when she noticed the small piece of pumpkin still tangled in Paige’s hair from earlier.

Azzi’s laugh bubbled up, warm and teasing. “You’ve got a little something,” she murmured, her fingers delicately brushing the pumpkin out of Paige’s hair.

Paige blinked, looking confused for a moment before realizing what Azzi meant. A sheepish grin spread across her face. “Seriously?” she muttered, shaking her head, though there was something endearing about the way she was still so caught up in the moment. “Guess that’s what happens when you carve pumpkins and kiss me all in one day.”

Azzi giggled, the sound light and carefree, before her hands slid up Paige’s chest once again, teasing and lingering. “Guess so,” she said, voice heavy with desire. Her lips met Paige’s once more, but this kiss was deeper, more frantic. Azzi was overwhelmed, every inch of her burning with need as she pulled Paige closer, not caring about anything else.

The heat between them intensified, their kisses becoming more desperate as they fumbled for the apartment door. Azzi’s fingers trembled as she reached for her keys, every inch of her skin hyperaware of the closeness, the desire surging through her. She managed to unlock the door, but Paige’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her back into another kiss before she could step inside. The intensity of it made Azzi dizzy, but she wanted it. Needed it.

Azzi pulled away just enough to breathe, her hands still gripping Paige’s shirt. “Wait,” she gasped, voice thick with lust. She quickly kicked the door shut with her foot, closing off the world outside as she pressed herself into Paige’s embrace.

Paige smirked, hands sliding down to Azzi’s hips, keeping her close. “Good,” she murmured, her lips brushing against Azzi’s neck, the heat of her breath sending Azzi’s body into overdrive. “Because I’m not done with you either.”

Azzi laughed softly between gasps, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair as she pulled her closer, unable to get enough. “You’re insane, you know that?”

Paige just shrugged, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Maybe,” she said, voice thick with desire. “But you love it.” --

Paige’s lips were on Azzi’s again, breathless and desperate, but then she pulled back just slightly, her forehead resting against Azzi’s. They both stood there, bodies tangled, hearts racing in sync, as if they were suspended in time. Azzi’s hands were still tangled in Paige’s hair, the pulse of their kiss still echoing through her chest.

Azzi breathed out a shaky laugh, her lips curving into a smile despite the heat that still burned between them. “You’re right,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, “you really are insane.”

Paige smirked, her hands still at Azzi’s hips, holding her close but with a gentler touch now. “And you love every second of it,” she teased, her voice low and assured.

Azzi didn’t respond immediately, just looked at Paige with that same intensity in her eyes, a little smile tugging at her lips. She wasn’t sure how they had gotten here, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

She closed the gap between them again, but this time, the kiss was softer, quieter, as if they were savoring the moment rather than rushing forward. Paige’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her in tighter, and Azzi melted into her, allowing herself to feel the heat, the connection, the undeniable pull that had been there all along.

As they paused for a moment, their breaths mingling, Azzi’s fingers gently trailed down Paige’s arm, lightly grazing over the surface of her skin. Her gaze dropped to Paige’s hand, and she slowly reached out, her fingers brushing over the cool metal of the ring Paige wore.

She played with it absentmindedly, twisting it gently around Paige’s finger, her touch soft and playful. Paige's breath hitched slightly at the feeling of Azzi’s delicate fingers against her skin, but she didn’t move, letting Azzi explore at her own pace.

Azzi’s fingers brushed lightly over the back of Paige’s hand, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she flicked her eyes up to meet Paige’s. “You know,” she started, voice low and laced with mischief, “this ring’s kind of cute. But I think it might be getting in the way.” She let her fingers trail over Paige's hand, giving the ring another little twist, before her touch wandered down to her wrist, brushing the fabric of her sleeve.

Her voice dropped into a whisper, playful and suggestive, “Maybe we should just take this off too...” Azzi’s gaze flickered briefly to Paige’s lips, a slow, teasing grin spreading across her face.

Paige froze for just a second, her mind racing at Azzi’s words, before her hands moved instinctively, squeezing Azzi’s ass, pulling her closer into the kiss as if on cue. The move was bold, firm, but undeniably tender—sending a rush of heat through both of them. Paige’s thumb brushed the curve of Azzi’s cheek, moving a loose curl out of her face as if it was the most delicate thing in the world. Her touch was soft and intentional, the care in her fingers making Azzi’s heart race.

Azzi melted into the touch, her body practically vibrating with need, her breath hitching as she felt Paige’s hands on her, so strong yet gentle. The brief moment of tenderness only made the tension between them even more electric. The weight of Paige’s hands on her ass, pressing her into her warmth, sent a jolt of heat through her. She was sure Paige could feel her pulse beneath her fingers, racing as fast as her heart.

They pulled back for a second, breathing heavily, but the room around them felt like it was closing in, the air thick with the anticipation of what would come next.

Azzi’s voice was low, teasing, but with an edge of uncertainty. “I think we’ve both got some things we’re ready to take off…” Her fingers brushed the hem of Paige’s shirt, almost daring her to do the same, to take the next step.

Paige’s grin widened, but there was something wild in her eyes now—something they hadn’t let themselves get lost in before. “I like the way you think,” she murmured, her lips brushing Azzi’s once more, more urgent this time, more needy.

Azzi tried to guide them deeper throughout the apartment, but in the haze of desire, her hand fumbled for the door handle. She found it, but before she could open it, Paige held her back, her grip tightening on Azzi’s waist, pulling her into another kiss.

Azzi sighed into the kiss, half-laughing against Paige’s lips. “Seriously, we’re gonna get lost in here again,” she muttered, a teasing note to her voice.

Paige paused, her lips still hovering just above Azzi’s. She shushed her softly with a mischievous smirk. “Just stop talking for a while,” Paige whispered, her voice husky.

Azzi blinked, her heart pounding as she processed the command. She didn’t know what to make of it, but the intensity of Paige’s touch and the fire in her eyes left no room for hesitation. Azzi simply nodded, surrendering to the pull between them.

Paige brushed the curls away from Azzi’s face, her touch gentle but deliberate, as if the act itself was an intimate declaration. Her hands lingered for a moment, tracing the soft curve of Azzi’s cheek. With her thumb, Paige delicately tucked the stray locks of hair behind Azzi’s ear, the motion so tender, so careful, that it sent a shiver down Azzi’s spine.

Azzi’s breath hitched as she felt the warmth of Paige’s touch, but her lips parted in a soft smile, still burning with desire, and with a voice barely above a whisper, she murmured, “I think... we’re both ready for more, right?”

Paige’s grin widened, but there was a dark, teasing edge to it. She leaned in close again, pressing her body against Azzi’s, the heat between them radiating. “You’re damn right,” she murmured, lips brushing over Azzi’s ear. “But this time, I’m not letting you get lost again.”

Azzi's hands slipped down, her fingers brushing over the waistband of Paige’s jeans, her eyes gleaming with mischief. But just as Paige’s hand moved to grip her waist, ready to push them both forward, Azzi’s voice dropped again, low and dangerous, “Unless... you’re ready for me to take control.”

The air between them thickened, electric and charged, and just as Paige went to respond, everything froze. The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, and Azzi’s eyes flicked to the door.

The moment was broken.

[mapis-putellas]

Show off

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Reader

Words: 1400

Warnings: none

Summary: Alexia challenges you to a pull-up competition.

Notes: this was fun to write. Enjoy <3

[Prompt list]

"Amor, come on!" Alexia complains as she loops her arms around your waist and rests her chin against your shoulder, peppering your face with soft kisses.

You roll your eyes exasperatedly. "Ale, I've already said no. You only want to do it to prove how much stronger you are than me." You pat her hands placatingly as you step out of her arms to continue with folding the laundry.

"What? No. That is not the truth," she exclaims in mock offence as she clutches at her chest. "You have been practicing, yes? At the gym with mapi?"

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to face her. "Yes, I have. But it's been a week. How much progress do you think I would have been able to make in seven days, ale?"

Alexia shrugs as she easily lifts herself onto the counter, "I do not know. A lot?" She kicks her legs absently, ignoring the way you glare at her when her feet -clad in shoes might you add, hit the white cupboards below.

You sigh in relinquishment. "For you, maybe, but I'm very much a beginner. You, my love, are not."

"Sí, I know. But por favor, amor? For me?"

Alexia wasn't one to beg. In your three and a half year relationship, you think you’d only heard her do so a handful of times and the majority of those were in the bedroom. Otherwise, she could be very convincing when coaxing you into doing what she wants, so there was ultimately never any need for her to beg.

"Ale..." You trail off.

Alexia slides off of the counter, her feet landing on the floor with a soft thud. She makes her way over to you, large hands rising to cup your cheeks before leaning down and pressing her lips oh so tenderly against your own. You sigh on resignation as your own hands rise to rest on either side of her waist, fully aware that she had once again gotten her way.

A few moments later you pull away, eyes rolling when you were immediately met with a smirk.

"Okay. We can do a pull-up contest. But I have one condition." You warn.

Alexia nods seriously. "Sí, mi amor. Anything."

"Any teasing, smack talk or bragging, you're on the couch tonight. Understand?"

"Smack talk?" She tilts her head to the side.

You cup her face, tracing the pads of your thumbs beneath her eyes. "It's the act of criticizing another person. Which you will not do to me when you win."

Alexia immediately shakes her head as she takes your hands and places a gentle kiss to the insides of your wrist. "I will not bebé. Promise."

Prior experience has you want wanting to believe her, but figuring you would be nice and give her the benefit of the doubt, you let out a quiet sigh before begrudgingly nodding your head.

You can't help but laugh at the way her face lights up as she all but yanks you into her arms, your feet now dangling in the air as your hands clutch to the back of her shirt.

God, you were such a sucker.

"Okay, okay. When?" You breath, wiggling out of her arms before turning and placing the folded clothes into the laundry basket to be put away later. Or, well, whenever you get around to it if you were being completely honest with yourself. Probably sometime next week.

Your hand was immediately grabbed the second it was unoccupied, and you allow her to pull you out of the kitchen and towards her small home gym. There was a pull-up bar fixed to the doorframe, yoga mats and dumbbells in corner of the room along with many other pieces of equipment you’d yet to learn the names of.

"I will go first, amor," she pulls off her shirt leaving her in a black sports bra and red shorts. "You count, yes?"

Your eyes whip up from where they'd fallen down to her six pack, and you nod silently, watching as she smirks before raising her arms and grabbing onto the pull-up bar with ease. She was going before you could blink, arm muscles becoming more prominent as she lifts herself up and down like it was nothing.

Your eyes somehow seem to drift down to her six pack again on their own accord, and you decide it would probably be best to ignore her laugh so her ego didn't get any bigger than it already was.

She was back on the floor before you could even notice she was done, slightly out of breath as she rubs her hands together and makes her way over to you. Your eyes slowly climb up her body until they were staring into her own.

"Amor, did you count?" She reaches up and closes your mouth, and you flush heavily as you push her hand away and cross your arms against your chest. “You did not, did you?”

"Yes, I did." You feign your assertiveness a lot more confidently than you felt, and Alexia rolls her eyes knowingly as she nods her head in begrudging acceptance.

"How many?"

"Huh?”

“Pull-ups, bebé. How many?”

“Uhh…”

"Let's say, twenty, yes?" She grins, and you sigh dejectedly before nodding.

"Sure. Twenty." There was no way in hell you were going to be able to beat that. Seemingly having more confidence in you than you did in yourself, Alexia coaxes you over to the bar with a gentle hand on the small of your back.

"Ready?" She braces a hand on either side of your waist, and you take a deep breath before nodding and reaching up your arms. She lifts you with ease, making sure you had a good hold before rounding your body and standing a little in front of you.

Ignoring the fact your hands were beginning to burn already, you use all your strength and pull your chin up and over the bar with a quiet grunt.

"Sí. Muy bien bebé." Alexia praises, and you smile slightly as you once again pull yourself up and over the bar. You mange to repeat this three more times before your arms start to burn. Feeling a little pathetic at only being able to complete five pull-ups in comparison to Alexia’s

twenty, you grit your teeth and somehow manage to pull yourself up two before times before sending Alexia a look that says get me down.

Alexia steps forward and loops her dams beneath your behind immediately, and you let out a sigh of relief as you let go of the bar and rub your sore hands together.

Supporting your body with ease, Alexia looks up at you with a proud smile on her face. You can't help but mimic it as you circle your arms around her shoulders.

"Buena chica," she praises, leaning forward and kissing your chest. You flush just slightly. "I did not think you could do that many."

"It was only seven." You shrug.

"No no." Alexia shakes her head as she bounces you up slightly to get a better grip, your legs now hooked around her bare waist. "How many could you do before?"

"One, I think?" you struggle to recall the specific number due to Mapi yelling at you. Carry on chica. You got this! Use those chicken arms! You’d been quite offended honestly.

“Maybe two?" You doubt yourself.

"Exactamente! And you did seven today. That is five more, no? You are getting strong." She grasps your bicep between her hand and gives it a squeeze, making you laugh quietly as your own hands tangle through the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

"Soon I'll be stronger than you." You muse, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

"No, amor," Alexia states seriously, and you tilt your head to the side. "No one is as strong as me."

"Oh, is that so?" You laugh, and Alexia grins smugly as she makes her way back over to the pull-up bar. You stare at her in confusion, aware she was up to something but not knowing what.

"Hold on tight." Is all she says in place of an explanation, and you can't help but yelp when she lets you go and reaches for the bar above you both.

Complying and wrapping your body completely around her own as tight as you physically could, you stare gobsmacked as she begins doing pulls-up with the same ease as before.

"Show off." You grumble, Alexia's laugh echoing around the room.

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @girlgenius1111 @goldenempyrean @codiemarin

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: fic for #13 on the 13th! i love mat and squeaks so much and the fact that you guys love them so much too just makes my heart expand like the grinch’s 🤍 they’re my favorites to write for and i hope you guys enjoy this one! so much more mat and squeaks to come 🥰

word count: 6.4k

tw: mentions of past miscarriages, mentions of fertility issues, anxiety, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy and all that goes along with it

summary: you and mat have an early christmas gift for talia (and inadvertently, the rest of the family too)

It’s way too early in the morning, cold and dark outside when Mat finds you in the bathroom, head in the toilet while you vomit. He gathers back your hair in a fist and brushes the stray wisps off your forehead. Otherwise, he’s quiet, just providing support for you.

You finish with one last dry heave and he holds your hand while you get shakily to your feet, leaning your free hand on the countertop. He keeps a hand solid on your lower back while fishing out a miniature bag of oyster crackers from a drawer in the vanity and sliding the Listerine bottle closer to you.

One swish of mouthwash and a few oyster crackers later, you’re feeling better. Not even close to perfect or normal, but better.

Mat opens his arms for you to step in and lean your cheek against his shoulder. His arms wrap around your upper back and yours loop to rest at his lower back. He’s warm and smells like the bergamont and lime Aesop soap bar in your shower and Tide laundry detergent, a little like animal crackers too, which is probably leftover from Talia waking up after he got home from Toronto the night before and making him come lay in her bed with her until she fell back asleep. Of course, Mat had fallen asleep in the too-small bed, the both of them snoring quietly when you left your bed to go find him.

“Lucky number thirteen,” he mumbles against the top of your head. His breath ruffles your hair and you snuggle closer to his chest. The worn fabric of his undershirt is soft against your cheek.

“And three days,” you reply, stomach flipping slightly. Whether it’s nausea or anxiety, you’re not sure. Likely a healthy combination of both.

“And three days,” Mat agrees. His hands rub circles over your back and you’re soothed enough that you could go back to sleep. Too bad you have a million things to do today, things to check off your list with only three days to go before Christmas.

“Maybe we should wait,” you say after a beat of comfortable silence. “Maybe we should wait for fourteen or fifteen weeks. It’s longer.”

It’s safer, you think but don’t say.

Thirteen weeks is longer than any of your past pregnancies too, other than Talia’s. But it still feels so early and so fragile. You’re trying so hard to be excited, and you are, but that excitement is tamped down by fear and anxiety.

Mat kisses the crown of your head. “Doctor said everything looked really good last week. And you’ve still got morning sickness, which you —“ He cuts himself off, but you know what he was going to say.

‘Which you didn’t with the last few’ - your symptoms had disappeared so early and you thought it was a blessing, that you weren’t vomiting every morning, that you weren’t as tired as you’d been with Talia. Turned out to be nightmare after nightmare.

But you nod against his chest, feeling grateful for the morning sickness that’s shown no sign of stopping, as long as it means a happy, healthy baby in just over six months. June can’t come soon enough.

“We can wait to tell T,” Mat continues, picking up as if he hadn’t stopped mid-sentence. “If you want. But Doctor Harmon said we were okay to start telling people and I think she’ll really like that Christmas present.”

At a delightfully hilarious five and a half, Talia’s been asking about a sibling pretty consistently for two or so years now. Especially after hanging around the team and seeing all the siblings in action. You know she’ll be thrilled for a baby brother or sister and that’s what worries you a little. If it goes badly, if it ends like the others, it’s not just yours and Mat’s heartbreak. It’s Talia’s too.

And you can handle your heartbreak, but you never want Talia to experience that.

“I can hear you thinking,” Mat chuckles, squeezing you closer to his chest. “I know you’re worried, I am too. But how can we let that perfectly wrapped present go to waste?”

His joke lands and you giggle, knowing the box hidden under your bed with Talia’s gift is wrapped with messy corners and too much tape, a Mat Barzal specialty. He’d insisted on wrapping the gift, “contributing to the process” since you were keeping the real present all bubble wrapped and safe in your womb.

“Okay, yes, yeah,” you repeat a few times, convincing yourself. “Let’s tell T and just…just enjoy the ride.”

Just enjoying the ride is something you’d worked really hard on in therapy the last few years, some days easier than others - the pile of ratty Moleskine journals hidden away in your closet full of your every thought from the past five years, good and bad. The newest one, coincidentally started on the day you’d gotten a positive pregnancy test, is already a quarter full of your up and down thoughts and scribbles.

“That’s my girl,” Mat’s hands cup your cheeks, tilting your face up so he can kiss you, even as you protest, reminding him of your vomit breath. He laughs as he kisses you anyway, mumbling, “minty,” against your mouth.

You shake your head at him, smiling. He squeezes your cheek and guides you back into the bedroom, flipping the light switch off. You settle on the bed, dragging a pillow into your lap and watch Mat start to get dressed even though it’s so early.

“I’ve got practice at 9:30,” he says, voice muffled as he pulls his undershirt over his head. You unashamedly watch his stomach muscles work, ogling his chest even though your libido is temporarily dead and buried. “We can wake T up and tell her before I go or we can do it when I get back.”

“When are you getting back?” You wrap a blanket around your shoulders, smothering a yawn in the fabric. A wave of exhaustion hits and you blink slowly. It’s too early for you to be awake on a normal day, but the extra pregnancy hormones have you both exhausted and unable to sleep. There’s no chance you’ll go back to bed, not when you have to finish getting the house ready for your Christmas guests.

Mat shrugs. “Depends. But probably around eleven, eleven thirty?”

He rummages through his drawers for a pair of sweats and you remind him that he has to go and pick up both sets of parents and Liana from the airport in the afternoon. “So maybe we should tell her now?” You chew at your thumbnail.

Fully dressed in casual athleisure for his drive to the practice rink, Mat nods and reaches over to pull your thumb away from your mouth. You scowl at him.

“I’ll go wake her up,” he laughs. “Even though she definitely could use some more sleep.”

You wave him off. “She’ll nap when you’re gone,” you reply. “Unless, of course, she wants to help me get the house ready.”

Mat raises an eyebrow at you, laughs, and heads down to Talia’s room. You grin at his retreating back and get up to rinse your mouth with Listerine again and give your teeth a good brush. You always feel gross after vomiting. Once you feel fresher and more awake, you change out of your sweaty pajamas and into a Christmas-appropriate dark green waffle knit lounge set. You feel much more human with real clothes on and you pat your stomach, a faint outward curve already forming between your hipbones.

This pregnancy is showing quicker than all the others, physical proof that you’re holding onto for your sanity.

“Mommy,” Talia’s whine precedes her and you smile automatically when you see Mat come back into your room with Talia curled up in his arms. Her face is buried in his neck and her dark curls are wild with bedhead. One leg of her cartoon Grinch patterned pajama bottoms is pushed halfway up her skinny calf and her arms are locked around Mat’s neck, her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, bunching it between his shoulders.

“Hi, baby,” you reply quietly, reaching out your arms for her. Mat transfers her to your lap and she curls up like a little cat, her cheek squished against your breast. “Daddy woke you up, huh?”

You smooth back her hair, the soft scent of her watermelon L’Oreal Kids shampoo wafting up to your nose. The French braid you’d tied her hair into last night is a wreck and you know she’ll complain when you have to brush out the knots later. But right now she’s so soft and sweet with sleep, seeming much younger than her five and a half years. You trace the tip of your finger over the slope of her nose and she wrinkles it at your touch, face relaxing again almost instantly.

“He said I had a s’prise,” she mumbles, blinking up at you. “But Christmas isn’t today.”

“Nope,” you agree and the mattress dips when Mat sits down next to you. “Christmas is in three days, but Daddy and I do have a gift for you early.”

That perks her right up, predictably. Talia blinks like a little meerkat, scrambling to sit up on your lap. She looks over at Mat, who’s grinning widely, and then back up at you.

“A gift before Christmas?” She asks, her ‘s’ whistling a little from the space left behind from the front baby tooth she’d lost a few days ago. “How come?”

Mat pulls the box out from under the bed and places it on Talia’s lap. “Because it’s a special gift and we wanted to give it to you early, since you’ve been such an awesome kid all year,” Mat says and you can hear the slight tremble in his voice. It reminds you that all of your fertility issues and miscarriages weren’t just hard on you, they were hard on Mat and he was a rock throughout everything, no matter what you threw at him emotionally. You reach out and squeeze his knee, giving him a small smile. He returns it with a wink.

Talia pokes her fingers into the corner of the wrapping paper, her sparkly nail polish catching in the light, and gives Mat an impish little smile. “Daddy wrapped this,” she says. “The corners are all wrinkly.”

You laugh at the roast and Mat’s jaw drops in fake outrage.

“They are not!” He yelps, reaching out to tickle Talia’s sides. She shrieks and wiggles, laughter echoing around the room.

“No! No, Daddy! Stop tickling!” She shrieks between gasping laughter and Mat relents, laughing too as he leans back into his spot. Talia’s hair is even messier, her cheeks flushed from laughter, and you can’t wait to have another one running around the house. A lump of emotion clogs your throat.

“I don’t like tickling,” she grumbles adorably and Mat apologies. Talia forgives him and pulls at the paper on her gift again. ��Can I open now?”

You and Mat both nod and Talia wastes no time in ripping into the paper. Scraps go flying and Mat gathers them up, crumpling the paper in a ball that he tosses back and forth between his hands. Talia stops briefly when she sees the gift box and then tosses the lid off the side of the bed. You roll your eyes slightly at her dramatics, but then she’s pulling the sweater out of its tissue paper and laying it over your legs.

“What’s it say?” She cocks her head. Immediately, she recognizes the first word, “big,” and then starts sounding out the next, “si-sis-sister?”

You’re holding your breath while she sounds it out, your heart pounding when she wrinkles her nose and repeats, “big sister?”

Talia looks at you and then Mat, frowning while the wheels turn in her head. It takes a second and she repeats, “big sister? Me?” pointing at herself. Her eyebrows lift on her forehead.

Mat nods and you grin at her, “you’re going to be a big sister, love bug.”

It’s a surprise when Talia bursts into loud, hiccuping sobs and you’re caught unprepared. Tears stream down her face and she chokes for air, holding the sweater in a death grip, turning her knuckles white. Mat looks at you, wide-eyed and terrified of Talia’s reaction, until she wails, “I always wanted a baby!”

“Oh,” you cuddle her close, stroking her hair and letting her cry and snot all over your shirt. “Oh, my baby, I know. You’re overwhelmed. It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay.”

“I get a baby?” She asks and you nod even though she can’t see you. Tears well up in your eyes.

Mat’s hand rubs circles on her back and he’s whispering quietly to her, inaudible over the blood rushing in your ears.

“You’re going to have a sibling, love bug,” you say into her hair, choking on your own overwhelming emotion. “It’s really big news, right?”

Talia nods against you and you hear her blow her nose against your shirt. It’s gross, but you don’t mind.

She keeps wailing, crying happy tears and mumbling about how she always wanted a baby sibling like all of her friends. It cracks your heart and mends it all at once, knowing how long she’s waited and how happy she is to be finally getting a built-in best friend.

Tears drip down your cheeks and you feel Mat’s hand on your back, pulling you close. You and Talia are folded into Mat’s embrace, his palms cupping each of your heads to keep you close. Her cries settle down to a few sniffles and eventually she pulls back from your chest to look up at you.

Her big hazel eyes, Mat’s eyes, are red rimmed and still watery. You push damp strands of hair off her cheeks and kiss her forehead.

“I’m so happy, Mommy,” she says simply, lunging to throw her arms around your neck and squeeze you in a hug.

“I’m so happy too, TB,” you reply, the easiest and most honest words you’ve ever said.

Mat, never one to be left out, laughs and chimes in, “I bet you’re not as happy as me.” He kisses the top of Talia’s head, ruffling her hair. You can see a suspiciously wet shine to his eyes.

Talia leans from your lap to Mat’s, hugging his neck to tight it almost looks painful. “Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head. “I’m the happiest. I’m the happiest cause it’s my baby.”

“Hey,” you tickle her sides lightly, “it’s mine and Daddy’s baby too.”

She shrugs and grabs for her sweater again, yanking it on over her head. She pushes her hair out of her eyes with the backs of her hands, looking for all the world like an electrocuted mad scientist. “I’m gonna wear this forever and tell everyone I’m a big sister like Reese and Winnie,” she announces proudly, a huge missing-toothed smile splitting her face.

Her smile melts your heart and she starts rolling around on the bed, chanting “big sister, big sister,” to make you and Mat laugh.

You lean against Mat’s chest, his hands coming to rest on your stomach. He whispers in your ear, “I’m so glad we told her.”

“Me too,” you murmur back. Talia rolls back over to you and smooshes her face up against your stomach and Mat’s hands.

“My baby’s in there?” She asks and without waiting for an answer, kisses your stomach and says, “hi baby, I’m Talia. I’m your big sister and I love you.”

And that’s all it takes for your waterworks to start, tears flowing free and fast, to the point where Talia looks a little spooked and Mat has to shepard her downstairs for breakfast while you follow along a few minutes later, still sniffling and wiping at your eyes.

Mat serves you up a plate of pancakes, plain and no syrup to be easier on your stomach, and you kiss his cheek in return. He looks incredulous, “I make celebration pancakes and I only get a kiss on the cheek? Wow, Squeaks, wow.”

You roll your eyes at him and plant a dramatic, loud kiss on his lips, making Talia giggle over her own pancakes. There’s already a smudge of chocolate on her Big Sister sweater’s collar and you can’t help but smile.

Mat’s off to practice a little bit later and then it’s just you and Talia since school is already closed for the two-week break. She’s surprisingly clingy while you get the guest rooms ready for everyone, following at your heels with a handful of Calico Critters clutched in each palm.

She asks a million questions about the baby - when is it coming? Is it a boy or a girl? Is it gonna live in her room? Can we name it Sparky? (Late June, it’s going to be a surprise just like she was, it will live first in yours and Mat’s room and then will get its own room, and no. Definitely not.)

You flip through the pile of Christmas cards that have gone unopened for a few days, enjoying looking through the family pictures sent by all the wives and girlfriends you’ve made friends with throughout the years. A particularly cute family photo of Matthew Tkachuk, his wife, and their son makes you smile. Talia climbs up on a stool to look at the cards with you, pointing out each player that she knows and recognizes.

(“Mommy, did we send a card of me?” “Yes, baby, remember when you took a picture with us and Santa at Daddy’s work? We sent that one out.” “Oh, we should’ve sent the picture of me and Minnie at Disney ‘cause I looked real cute in that, Nana said so.”)

At some point, Talia dumps the Calico Critters back in their designated box and picks up her Bitty Baby, carrying it around and hugging it tightly. The sight makes you wobbly, praying silently that this is the baby that stays.

Mat comes home from practice, wet hair shoved under his Stadium Series beanie, and barely drops his keys before he’s swooping Talia up into his arms and blowing raspberries on her cheeks. He’s got a giddy energy that isn’t just from a good practice.

“Big sister, ready to head to the airport in a little bit?” He asks, gamely accepting the minor blow to the head from a plastic Bitty Baby leg.

“Yes!” Talia shouts. “Let’s go now!”

You chime in, “you’d be so early! There’s still about two hours until the planes land. That’s four episodes of Bluey,” you add, anticipating Talia’s next question.

She frowns, but shrugs and tells Mat, “Mommy said we can’t name my baby Sparky. I like Sparky.”

Mat grins at you and winks. To Talia, he says, “how about we work on it? There’s a long time to come up with a good name.”

You know Talia’s likely not going to give up on Sparky, but over the next hour she offers up Princess Jasmine, Tweety Bird, and Bingo as alternatives. Every time she refers to it as “my baby” though, you feel like you could cry again. Mat was right, telling her was a really good idea.

Until it comes time for them to leave for the airport and you have to tell her, gently but firmly, not to spill the beans. You zip up her jacket, hiding the words on the sweater she still refuses to take off. She’d even refused the option to put another sweater over it. This kid.

“But I wanna tell ‘em,” she whines, batting at the hat you try to pull over her head.

“We will tell everyone,” you assure her, winning the battle. The knit cap is snug over her ears, flattening her dark hair against her forehead. She looks adorably grumpy, a miniature replica of Mat. “But Mommy and Daddy want to surprise them with a Christmas present, okay? It’s our secret. Can you promise?”

Talia hums and bounces from foot to foot, considering. You cross your fingers that she gets it.

“I guess,” she relents, grabbing up a Princess Jasmine doll in one hand and an Aladdin doll in the other. Bitty Baby has been relegated to her crib for a nap that’s lasted more than an hour and you’re nearly jealous of a baby doll.

Mat appears in the front hall with his car keys jangling and a grin on his face. “Ready to go, TB?”

She bounces around, nodding and chanting “yes yes yes” in response to Mat’s question.

You giggle and pat her on the butt. “Save that energy for the game tomorrow,” you tease, getting to your feet and holding the door open. It’s starting to flurry a bit, the light flakes swirling in the air prettily. Mat kisses you quickly on his way out, nudging Talia between the shoulder blades to get her moving.

“Bye, Mommy!” She shouts, waving over her shoulder. “Bye, Baby Sparky!”

You wave at them, closing the door just after watching Mat swing Talia around before opening the car door for her to climb inside.

By some Christmas miracle, all three incoming flights - your parents from North Carolina, Mat’s parents from Vancouver, and Liana from London - were scheduled to land within ten minutes of each other, so Mat only had to make one trip to LaGuardia.

He glides the Defender easily into an open spot at the Arrivals curb, praying that the trip from baggage claim to the car doesn’t take everyone that long.

“Remember,” he turns around in his seat, lowering the volume on the Disney Princess medley soundtrack Talia had insisted on, “Baby Sparky is a secret. So don’t tell everyone okay?”

“Okay, but what if I just told LeeLee?” She says, not looking at Mat, but playing with her dolls. “And then you and Mommy can tell everyone else.”

“No,” Mat laughs, despite himself. “You can’t tell LeeLee. Don’t say anything, okay, Tals?”

Talia shrugs and agrees. “Okay, I won’t say anythin’ about Baby Sparky.”

Mat reaches his hand out for a high five and Talia slaps his palm enthusiastically. She makes Mat turn the music back up while they wait and sings happily along to ‘Part of Your World’ until Mat’s phone vibrates with a text and he grins.

“Take a look out the window, T,” he says, pointing towards the airport. “We’ve got some visitors.”

Talia shrieks happily, kicking her legs and waving wildly at her grandparents and aunt as the five of them come into sight. Liana waves wildly back, making a silly face for good measure.

Mat gets out of the car to help with the luggage, accepting a hug and kiss from both moms. Liana punches his arm and then gives him a one-armed hug before helping him with the luggage at the trunk. They both wave off the parents for their help and gesture for them to get in the car.

“Hi Nana and hi Pop and hi Grandma and hi Grandpa,” Talia chirps excitedly as they all get in the car, in one breath in the way only little kids can manage. She tilts her cheek up to get kisses from her grandmothers as they climb into the third row of the car.

“Hi Talia,” Nadia grins, tweaking her cheek.

“Hi, sweetie,” your mom replies, cupping Talia’s chin between her thumb and index finger. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Hey, TB,” Liana calls from the back of the car, hoisting her suitcase into the trunk. “No hellos for your favorite aunt?”

Talia wiggles around in her booster seat to wave at Liana. “LeeLee! Did you know I’m gonna be a big sister?” She shouts the question and Mat freezes.

“Fuck,” he mutters quietly, remaining extremely still as all five family members turn to look at him. He gives his mother an awkward grin. All three women are aware of the issues you’ve had in the past, he knows. Liana especially since you’d confided everything in her during her visits and on multiple phone calls. When you couldn’t or wouldn’t talk to Mat, he was just grateful that you had Liana at least to confide in.

“Mat?” Nadia prods him for a response.

“Yeah!” Talia continues, oblivious. “Mommy said we can’t name the baby Sparky, but I wanna call it Sparky anyway.”

“Oh my god!” Liana yelps, reaching out to shake Mat’s arm. “Seriously?” She does a little dance in place.

Mat nods, laughing a little. “Yeah, seriously. We told T this morning, but,” he shoots the kindergartener a playful glare, “she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone yet.”

Talia’s still oblivious, chattering happily to her grandfathers, both of whom have huge grins on their faces. The moms are wiping away tears in the third row, reaching over into the trunk to hug Mat awkwardly.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you guys,” your mom sobs, overwhelmed.

Mat accepts the huge hug Liana forces on him and finishes getting the bags in the trunk, the honking already starting from other cars waiting at the curb.

Once everyone’s in the car, Liana wedged in the middle seat and already starting to entertain Talia, Mat lowers the music and whistles to get attention on him.

“Look, T wasn’t supposed to tell you guys about the baby,” he says, easing out into traffic. “We wanted to do something special on Christmas, so if you could all pretend that you know nothing, that would be very helpful.”

Your mom sighs from the third row. “It’s going to be so hard to pretend,” she tells Nadia, who agrees. They’d both been discussing a baby shower, which Mat definitely thinks is a little premature, but he can’t blame them for being excited. He’s beyond happy himself.

“I get that,” he replies. “I really do. But remember, I’ve got a fragile, hormonal pregnant wife and she really wanted to surprise you all. Please play along and ignore Talia.”

“Hey!” Talia pipes up, abandoning her doll to Liana’s lap. “It’s mean to ignore, Daddy!”

Mat catches her eye in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, TB. But you did promise Mommy not to mention the baby and here we are.”

Talia squints at him, scrunching her face up and making Liana laugh at the expression. She pouts and kicks at the back of Mat’s seat. “I was excited, Daddy! I was so excited I cried, ‘member?” She grumbles.

Liana tugs at one of her dark curls. “Yeah, she couldn’t help herself, Mat,” she teases. “We’ll all be on our best behavior, promise.”

There’s no doubt in Mat’s mind that the five adults in the car will absolutely ruin the surprise the second they get home, but he crosses his fingers and hopes anyway.

Traffic is light, surprisingly, and you’re waiting at the door when Mat pulls into the driveway less than two hours after he left. You wave as everyone piles out of the car, catching Talia in your arms when she runs up to you.

“Mommy! LeeLee said she brought me sou-soubeniers?” She yelps.

“Souvenirs,” you correct gently, helping her out of her jacket and frowning when you see the sweater you’d forgotten she was wearing. “Go wash your hands, baby.”

Talia scampers off and you hope that buys you a little time to get her changed before everyone sees.

Your parents and in-laws parade into the house, all four of them giving you extra tight hugs and kisses on the cheek. Your dad murmurs that it’s good to see you and Mike gives you a wide smile, hugging you for a moment longer than usual.

Nadia cups your cheeks in her hands and just looks at you for a few seconds before shaking her head and pulling you back in for a second hug. Strange.

Something prickles at the back of your neck and when your mom greets you with watery eyes, you know exactly what happened.

Liana shoots you a delighted smirk, wrapping one arm around you in a hug as she passes. “Merry Christmas,” she beams, kissing your cheek.

Mat is last, dragging suitcases behind him and wearing a sheepish expression. You hold the door open for him and deadpan, “blabbermouth junior told everyone, didn’t she?”

“Literally the second they got in the car,” Mat admits. To his credit, he doesn’t try and lie.

“I should’ve known,” you laugh, following him into the house. Your mom already has Talia on her hip, Big Sister sweater proudly front and center as she demonstrates to the grandparents that she can read the words. They all look up guiltily at you and you just laugh more. “Spoilsport ruined the news,” you say, flattening your hand on your stomach, “but Baby Barzal should be here in June. God willing.”

The sudden cheer overwhelms you and gets you teary eyed again before you’re enveloped in a hug that nearly smothers you. Mat’s grinning at you from the safety of the fridge, until he gets accosted by the moms. He pats them on the back, laughing.

After the excitement of the news, you fall into your usual visit routine - changing out of airplane clothes and placing an order from the Italian place that everyone loves before settling into the den to catch up.

“I was going to give you guys these on Christmas,” you start the sentence before you disappear upstairs and return with three boxes in your arms. “But might as well do it now.”

Talia whips her head around, abandoning the bag of pretzels she’d dug out of the pantry and is sharing with your dad and Mike. “More presents? For me?” She asks, clambering over the arm of the couch to fall into Nadia’s lap and poke at the wrapped gift. “Oh, Mommy wrapped this. It’s so pretty. It event has a ribbon,” she chirps, stroking the velvet bow loops.

“Ooh,” Liana laughs at Mat, “burned by your own kid.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Mat rolls his eyes at his sister and when he’s sure Talia’s distracted, flips her off.

“Behave,” Nadia chastises, tone firm even though she’s smiling. Talia’s already pulling the paper away from the box in her lap and Nadia lets her continue.

You curl up against Mat’s side and watch everyone open their gifts - Polaroid shaped Christmas ornaments with the baby’s sonogram in the little photo spot, Coming Soon scrawled in cursive over the bottom of it.

It would’ve been nice to surprise everyone on Christmas morning, but there’s something even nicer about doing it now. With everyone relaxed and excited and able to really enjoy the moment without the chaos of presents and breakfast and stockings.

“Wait?” Talia squints at the sonogram. She pokes her finger against the black and white image. “Is that my baby?”

“Mhm,” you hum watching your mom explain exactly which blurry blob is the baby. “That’s the first ever picture of the baby.”

“Do I have a picture like that?” She asks, appropriating Nadia and Mike’s ornament for herself and lying across their laps while she studies the image.

Mat nods. “Tons of them,” he replies. “We can show you later, if you want.”

She hums distractedly and you let the grandparents take over for a bit, spoiling her and distracting her while you relax against Mat’s side, his hand snaking down to rest on your stomach under your shirt. His palm is warm and dry and his fingers draw absent shapes against your skin. He turns the fireplace on from his phone and the room gets cozier, full of noise and laughter and joy.

It’s the best start to Christmas week that you could’ve ever imagined.

And it turns out that everyone knowing about the baby early is a blessing in disguise, because your mom and Nadia don’t let you do a single thing the next day. They get breakfast ready for everyone and the dads get the sidewalks and cars clean from the few inches of snow that had fallen over night.

You try to help, but are shooed away to the couch to rest. Liana and Talia join you intermittently. Your baby curls up on your lap with her Bitty Baby, listening as Liana fills you in on her love life in code that goes over Talia’s head.

Mat’s gone most of the day for morning skate and is back for his pre-game nap before disappearing again around 3:30.

Talia insists on wearing her Big Sister sweater again, but the combined powers of Liana and your mom work to get her to put an Islanders jersey over it for the game. The adults are decked out in gear too and you go for comfort over style in an oversized henley and vest with leggings. Your nod to team spirit is your custom Islander Nikes.

Since the whole family is there and it’s the last game before the holiday break, Mat sprung for a suite and you’re grateful for it because you can relax and not have to worry about Talia slipping away.

Periodically, the other girls pop in to join you and as much as you try to keep her distracted, Talia announces your news to everyone that stops in, chirping, “I’m gonna be a big sister!” with a big, chocolate smudged grin and a few bunny hops.

You’ve never been excitedly screamed at and hugged in your entire life, a permanent grin making your face hurt by the time the second is halfway done.

Mat finishes the game with a trip to the penalty box, a goal, two assist, and the team wins. Maxine Nightingale fills the arena and Talia shimmies along to the chorus, cheering for Mat as he’s announced as the first star and skates over to chat with Shannon.

“Congrats on the win,” Shannon grins and Talia hangs over the glass, waving at Mat. You hold the back of her jersey in a tight fist, ignoring the way your stomach swoops with anxiety every time she lunges forward.

“Thanks, Shannon,” Mat’s face is larger than life on the screen and his smile is megawatt. “Feels really good to get the two points at home.”

Shannon laughs and nods, “I bet! And with these two points and the Ranger loss last night, the Islanders are heading into the holiday break at the top of the Metro. Just another thing to celebrate, right?”

“Oh yeah!” Mat’s lips curl up in a cock smirk that has your dormant sex drive sparking slightly. “A lot to celebrate this year,” he looks up at the suites and you swear he makes eye contact with you, his smile growing more genuine. “Just really glad to get the win with my family here.”

“I’m sure they’re all waiting to start the holiday celebrations with you, Merry Christmas, Mat,” Shannon smiles and the interview ends with Mat wishing her the same and heading off down the tunnel.

“Bye, Daddy!!!” Talia shouts out, waving.

You snatch her back from the glass and she pouts at you briefly before skipping over to Liana to mooch some M&M’s off of her.

“Are we heading home before Mat or did you want to see him?” You ask, sitting down on one of the couches outside the suite. A yawn catches in the back of your throat and your mom brushes her hand over the top of your head. You lean into her touch like a cat, warmed by her affection.

“Let us take you home, baby,” she replies. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m okay,” you assure her, passing Liana a baby wipe from your bag so she can wipe the chocolate off of Talia’s face. “T likes to see Mat after the games, so we can all meet him out at the garage and split into the two cars.”

“I wanna see Daddy and Uncle Bo and Noah,” Talia calls out, wriggling away from Liana and the baby wipe she’s wielding.

“Jesus, stay still TB, you’ve got a chocolate five o’clock shadow,” Liana laughs.

Mat is waiting for you downstairs, immediately scooping Talia up and giving her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “My good luck charms!” He grins, hair damp.

“Daddy, where’s Noah?” Talia drapes herself over Mat’s shoulder, looking around for her favorite defenseman. “I wanna show him my sweater.”

“You already showed Alexa,” you remind her. “She’ll

show Noah the picture you posed for. And remember, you’re going to see everyone at Aunt Syd and Uncle Matt’s Christmas Eve party tomorrow.”

Somehow you manage to get Talia in her car seat in Mat’s car, the rest of the Barzals going with Mat too and leaving you to drive home with your parents. Mat kisses your forehead before he gets into the driver’s seat of his car and tells you to be safe.

You nod and end up in the back seat of your own car when your dad insists on driving home. You’re grateful for it, honestly, slumping against the door and yawning. It’s been a long day and you’re definitely ready to head to bed.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” your mom murmurs over the Christmas music playing on the radio. She has her arm extended behind her so she can hold your hand. “Make sure you take care of yourself and if you need me to come and help, say the word. Whatever you need, right, hon?” That last bit is directed at your dad and he nods in agreement, a man of few words.

“Thanks, mom,” you can’t help the waver to your voice. Quieter, you continue, “I’m scared.”

“Oh, my girl,” your mom turns around in her seat and gives you a soft smile. “It’s only natural, after everything you and Mat have been through. But I’m going to go light a candle tomorrow and you’re going to stay positive and in June you’ll have a beautiful new baby to love on.”

You nod and wipe at your eyes, your free hand splayed on your stomach. In your purse, your phone vibrates and you pull it out to find a text from Liana - a video of Talia in her car seat, singing the wrong lyrics to ‘All I Want for Christmas’ loudly and proudly. She’s totally off key, but she’s having the time of her life. Before the video ends, you can hear Mat in the background laughing and saying, “T, next year you can teach Baby Sparky the lyrics.”

Tears flood your eyes again and the reality continues to hit - this time next year you’ll have a second baby all geared up to celebrate their first Christmas.

You can’t wait.

[sojumica]

Killer neighbor toji. | toji fushiguro x f! reader

warnings: 17+, smoking, killing obviously, angst?, fluff.

Busted down apartment building from the late 90’s to early 2000’s is where you reside now for some months since you moved here.

The showers were sometimes cold, especially during the winter, so you'd boil water on the stove and take hot baths to feel some warmth, but cold showers felt nice during the scorching heat of the summer months.

You just recently got a neighbor you genuinely terrified when you were taking the trash out one morning.

He was super tall, buff, green eyes and dark black hair. Almost bluish by how dark it was. He was super quiet but rude when you two would speak.

You assumed he did some sort of assassintion job, you figured this out when you two were the only ones in the laundry mat down stairs and he was pouring bloody clothes in the washer.

He looked at you after he did that to see your reaction, all you could do was shrug “we all have to eat” you say walking off.

You didn’t care, In this day in age you had to do what you had to do to get by. Even if that meant murdering for a living he was the one who was going to be damned, not you.

After that you saw him a bit more everyday, maybe he was paranoid and afraid you were going to snitch or maybe you were his next victim.

You found life quite meanlessing in a sense where you just lived to live and get it over with, you were happy with the little things. It’s all you needed.

He seemed like he always wanted more and never could stay still. You’d see him some days and sometimes not even for the next few weeks.

One day at the laundry room once again you spot him. “You know I'm the one who mops up the dried blood you leave on the floor outside our doors.” you commented as you placed your white clothes in the dryer.

“oh.” is all he said not even glancing at you, you didn’t care yet again. It was just nice to have a short conversation with someone.

Working from home kept you sorta isolated so you’d take what you could get, it really didn’t matter from who may it be from the old ladies who walk early in the morning or your killer neighbor.

A week later, as you were on your way to take out the trash you saw a note on your door. “gone for the next two weeks- Toji” it read.

“Ah, so that’s his name.” you spoke out loud before pocketing the note, you thought it was weird he was letting you know when he’d be gone, maybe he was scared he was going to die and wanted to let someone know.

Two boring weeks had passed but it reminded you of how life was like before toji had come along, life was quiet, simple, meaningless, and now it was the same but more eventful with seeing him.

He had become your muse, you drew him occasionally or wrote about him in your diary, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint if it was a crush or not but you hated thinking too deeply into things so you rather not dwell on it.

He finally came back. This time knocking at your door he shoved something in your hands.

“A new mop?” you questioned him holding said mop in your hands.

“Yeah i know how much blood stains stuff so you can use this one for your house and the old one for my trail of blood.” he spoke with a straight face

“K. Thanks i guess” you looking at him as you place the mop to the side

“bye.” he said walking into his apartment.

The thing about you and toji was you both didn’t care to be outspoken or force anything. To you both it was just things neighbors did for each other.

The next week you left dinner at his door, not on purpose simply just because you had extra that you didn’t want to eat.

Your note read “bring back my tupperware- yn”

The next day you saw your tupperware by your plant outside your door, cleaned surprisingly. You still cleaned it again though because ew.

Three days later you saw a note on your door “going on another “trip” need anything from osaka?” it read.

“cigarettes.” you wrote back.

Surely enough a week later cigarettes on your doorstep with another note “my personal favorite.” it said

You found yourself later that night smoking them outside on your balcony with a book that you found at a second hand store earlier that week.

“I smelt the cigarettes last night, did you like em?” he turned to you as he was waiting for his clothes to finish up.

“Yeah they're good, thanks.” you nod as you fold your jeans.

Later that night you found yourself making extras again, instead of just packing it and sending it to him you wrote a note on his door “dinner in 10 come or starve” you placed on his door with a soft knock.

5 minutes later he arrived, he looked freshly showered smelling of tea leaves. Dinner was quiet, you didn’t mind he didn’t either.

“You want me to do the dishes?” he asked looking at you once again with no expressions

“Sure, I have some cookies I made a couple days ago. Do you want some?” you looked up at him from the fridge.

“Do you have milk?” he questioned as he started on dishes.

“Only oat milk.” you replied after staring back down into your fridge.

“I’ll bring my milk after this, what normal person doesn’t have REGULAR milk.” he said, staring at you as if you were crazy.

“well i ran out when i was making THE FUCKING COOKIES TOJI.” you emphasized just like him.

“That's the first time I've ever heard you say my name, you know.” he looked at you with a laugh coming from his stomach.

“Oh yeah huh, do you remember mine?”you stared at him with your hands on your hips with a quirked brow

“yn.” he spoke firmly and so naturally.

The cookies were shared on your balcony with a cigarette, talking about all of toji’s missions the rest of the night till the late AM’s.

Maybe life wasn’t so boring after all you thought as you and him sat there in silence overlooking the city on the more shitter part of town. It was ugly and rundown but it was home, it got a little bit better now that he was here.

idk this could have a part two or a longer part but not rn.

[thefeverburningalive]

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ 𝖳𝖾𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖨 𝖧𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖠𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖸𝗈𝗎.

billie eilish x fem! reader

chapter two | ch1

summary: due to the recent new rule given to your sister by your father, some meddling parties decide the easiest way to get you to date is by paying somebody to take you out. who better to do so then the hot mysterious delinquent?

a/n: part two is here! thank you SO MUCH for the love on the first part<3 sorry this one took so long to write but i really wanted to put my all into it! if you haven’t read the first part then please do before you read this one! requests are open so feel free to send them in:) please like, reblog, and share if you can <3

genre: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, enemies(ish) to lovers, lowk fboy billie but not actually, eventual topics of drinking & high school parties

warnings: teenage partying (underage drinking), foul language

word count: 3.7k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“nice ride, vintage fenders. i dig it.” you’re met with the sound of billie’s voice and the scene of her leaning up against your car as you walk out of the small vintage shop. “are you following me?” billie laughs at your annoyance as she gets up and takes a smaller step closer to you. this time she’s wearing some black jeans, slightly less baggy than the ones she wore yesterday, along with a plain white tshirt and a black leather jacket. her hair was down this time with a little pair of dainty glasses decorating her face. “i was at the laundry mat across the street. i recognized your car from yesterday so i came to say hi.” the tone at which she spoke was unreadable, something you also noticed from yesterday, it was hard for you to analyze the true intention of her words. she looks at you like she’s anticipating a response, so with an eye roll you give her one. “hi.” you then swiftly try to enter your car. “not much of a talker, huh?” billie, just as swift, slides her frame between you and the car door- making it impossible for you to close said door. “depends on the topic. didn’t seem like there was much to discuss.” she tilts her head slightly at you, almost like she was confused yet amused. you raise her eyebrow at her and she continues to speak. “you’re really not afraid of me, are you?” billie seemed genuinely intrigued. her question perplexed you, as did she. “why would i be afraid of you?” you say, speaking more genuine then you have been with her. she simply shrugs, tugging her hands into her jacket pockets. “well- most people are.” it’s then your turn to give a slight chuckle. “well- im not most people.” you where pleased with your own response. not that you’re interested in talking to her, but it was fun to sass someone who wasn’t on your usual list. with that billie steps aside while putting her arm out in an ‘after you’ gesture, referring to you entering your own car. you roll your eyes and start the car- but not before noticing the wink billie throws your way. you make sure she catches your scoff before pulling out of the spot to drive home.

later that day, billie’s leaning up against her own car, smoking a cigarette once again while waiting for zoe to come out of the store. “we know what you’re trying to do- with y/n stratford.” billie turns her focus to see cameron and micheal standing beside her. “yeah? and what’re gonna do about it?” billie gives them a dead stare as she speaks. the two boys start to get nervous as they continue to speak. “w-we’re here to help out!” the boys then go on to explain how it was them who planned the whole ordeal. they also proceed to tell her about the information about you they had gotten from bianca, things like your favorite bands, favorite foods, along with the fact that you hated people who smoke. “so how exactly do you expect me to charm a girl who won’t even give me the time of day?” as billie speaks- she starts to get slightly annoyed. despite most people being afraid of her, she’s still always good with the ladies. not being able to get you into her charm was a challenge she’s getting frustrated with. “let’s start with friday night. there’s gonnna be a huge party. it’s the perfect opportunity.” the two seem pretty adamant about this party, but it’s not really billie’s scene. at this point billie notices zoe leave the store with a bag in hand. they give each other a look as zoe entered the passengers seat. “i gotta go. i’ll think about it.” cameron and micheal took a step back as billie entered her car. she starts it with a loud roar and headed off. “god i hope this works.” cameron says to micheal as micheal pats his back.

using the information she just obtained- billie found out that one of your favorite bands, the sleeping, would be playing at one of the local clubs that night. with much dismay billie sat herself at the bar of the club- the last place she’d want to be. “i need water!” you yell to your friend from on the dance floor before approaching the bar. as you order you notice billie sitting there, beer in hand. “you know, if you plan on asking me out again, you better just get it over with.” you say- mostly shout- to billie. she glances up then take a sip of her drink. “would you mind? you’re kind of ruining the music for me.” this makes you actually laugh. “you’re not surrounded by your usual smoke cloud.” you state the observation, actually holding conversation with the girl. “i know. i quit. they’re apparently bad for you.” billie has a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she remains seated, looking up at you. “you know, these guys are no jimmy eat world or taking back sunday, but they’re not bad.” she speaks once more, keeping her attention on the stage at the other end of the large room. “you know who taking back sunday is?!” you choke down the smile that dares to spread across your face, although for once billie is able to see through you. this makes her grin before continuing. “why? you don’t? y’know i was watching you out there before,, never seen you look so sexy mamas.” billie throws a wink your way as you cringe at the nickname. you take note that this isn’t the first time she’s called you that. the persistent girl then finally notices the amount of people watching her, realizing they all heard her call you sexy. she scratches the back of her neck slightly embarrassed of the attention and this makes you smirk as you cross your arms. “come to the party with me y/n.” that’s the first time she’s called you by your name. “you don’t give up, do you billie?” you seemed it only fitting to use her name in turn. “was that a yes?” billie now stands up infront of you. “no.” you state as you start to walk away from billie and towards your friends. “well, was that a no?!” billie shouts to you, cupping her hands around her mouth so her words reach you. “no!” you shout back over your shoulder, an unmistakable smile lightly displayed across your face.

friday night

as you walk down the stairs, you hear bianca and your father bicker. she’s begging him to let her and her friend go to the party. “daddy everyone expects me there!!” she shouts with her usual annoying whine-coated tone. “do you know about any party y/n?” your father turns his attention to you now. you simply shrug your shoulders, you knew about this party and how much it meant to bianca. as much as you two didn’t always get along she was still your sister, so you didn’t want to ruin her shot of going with your opinions. “bianca you’re not going unless your sister goes.” your fathers words make the both of your jaws drop. bianca turns to you and puts her hands on your shoulders. “can you please, just for one night, forget that you’re completely wretched and just be my sister? please y/n?? please do this for me!” even with her insults you could tell bianca was sincere. you closed your eyes and sighed. “fine. i’ll make an appearance i guess.” you gave in, and it makes both bianca and her friend start to jump up and down and scream with joy. your dad starts to give the two a lecture so you use the opportunity to slip back upstairs so you could change out of your lounge clothes. you settle on a pair of dark blue wash flair miss me jeans, along with an off the shoulder slightly baggy black long sleeved shirt. you slip into your beat up vans and head back downstairs. the three of you go to head out the door, but standing outside- mid knock in motion- is billie. “what are you doing here??” billie’s wearing a matching baggy tshirt and short set with some knee high socks, black shoes and bandana around her head. “it’s friday. im here to take you to the party.” you scoff and slide past her. “whatever. im driving.” and with that all four of you where off to the party. the second you arrive you’re met with loud music and drunken imbeciles. bianca and her friend immediately dissapeared, leaving you with just billie. “ayyyy look who crawled her way out of hell! lookin good tonight y/n!” joey stands infront of you, his friends whistling behind him. “fuck off joey. you’re too close, i can see your receding hairline.” you cross your arms and walk away, at this point you even lost billie. “aw cmon where you goin’?” joey jogs up to you and keeps your pace. “away.” you try to ignore him, but he doesn’t quit. “your sister here?” this makes you stop dead in your tracks. “you stay away from my sister.” you lean in close, your pointer finger pushing against his chest. he laughs and throws his arm up. “oh i’ll stay away from your sister, but i cannot guarantee she’ll stay away from me.” the cockiness and mockery that smothered his voice makes your blood boil. he seems satisfied firing you up and heads off in the direction of a bunch of guys chugging beer kegs. “oh fuck this.” giving in, you grab a red solo cup and fill it with whatever vile liquor was in the large kitchen. within thirty five minutes you’re already drunk.

billie had absolutely no idea where you went. one minute she was following behind you, and the next you’re completely out of her sight. just as she was about to give up she notices you over by a kitchen island, taking a shot, and pouring yourself another. “what’re you doing? ‘ve been lookin all over the place for you.” there’s a rosey hue that covers your cheeks due to the alcohol consumption, your guard and attitude are down as well. “psh i’m getting trashed man. isnt that what you’re supposed to do at a party?” you’re actually smiling as you speak. billie’s never seen anyone so.. pretty. maybe it was just the alcohol talking, for the both of you, but there was something about you that stood out to her. you then pushed past billie, letting her catch a wiff of your pistachio and vanilla perfume, and grabbed another drink. billie sighed and came to stand directly in front of you to take the drink. “hey hey, how ‘bout you let me have this one, huh?” you swerve your arm before she could take the bottle from you. “no! this one’s mine!” you make a quick run for it and leave billie stranded in the kitchen. she honestly wasn’t sure what to do. she thought about letting you get drunk and let loose- but apart of her knew that you’d be extremely unhappy by the morning. the sound of the cheering of your name and whistling pulls billie out of her thoughts. as she looked up she saw you standing on a coffee table, dancing and singing to whatever awful song is playing. more and more people gathered to watch as you sway your hips and run your fingers through your hair. billie pushed people out of her way to stand right beside the table, making sure not to take her eyes off of you as you stumble and dance. when you finally notice billie you attempt to say something to her, but before you can, you trip over your shoelaces. you prepared yourself to hit the ground but you’re met with strong, soft, arms. billie had caught you. all you could do was stare at her face. you’d never really looked that closely at it. from this angle, you could see all the soft freckles that decorated her face. her lips where a soft pink- just like her cheeks. her eyes where light blue yet somehow so deep, almost hypnotizing. “are you okay mamas?” billie held genuine concern for you, you could tell. what are you thinking? getting all soft. you should know better. don’t be weak. you then pushed billie away as you stood up. “ ‘m fine.” you attempt to walk away but you stumble and are forced to put a hand on billie’s shoulder to balance yourself. “you’re not fine. cmon.” billie puts your arm fully around her while placing her own around your waist. the taller girl starts to lead you through the crowded house, heading to the back door. “js needta.. sit.” was all you said- a pitiful attempt of a protest. billie says nothing in response while continuing to lead you now that you’re out in the backyard.

“cmon, here, sit down.” billie places you carefully onto a swing seat- but not before you slip and fall on your back. “jesus y/n- the last thing you need is a concussion.” billie gets you up and guides you back to the swing. she holds it while you plop yourself down, insuring that you don’t fall off. you get annoyed at her holding you up. “ugh you’re so patronizing.” billie laughs as she slowly lets you go. she places herself on the swing next to you but still turns her body to face you. “leave it up to you to use big words when you’re fucked up.” a silence falls over you two. for the first time neither of you know what to say next. every interaction that took place between the two of you had always had some sort of comment, rebuttal, question or answer. but now there was only silence. it was killing you now that some of the alcohol was wearing off, enough to make you aware but yet still tipsy enough to be lose. “why are you doing this?” you broke the silence. you wanted answers so you broke the silence. “well, you could get sick.. plus i gotta make sure you didn’t hit your head hard enough to do some damage.” billie’s answer wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear. sure, that may be why she’s currently doing what she’s doing, but that didn’t answer what you actually wanted to know. “you wouldn’t care if i never woke up.” you crossed your right leg over your left, letting the other bounce up and down. “sure i would.” you give her a look that makes her laugh, and it’s almost contagious. almost. “if you didn’t wake up then i’d have to start taking out girls who actually like me.” billie responded while leaning her body the slightest bit closer to you. you rolled your eyes and looked away. “like you could find one.” billie lets out a smaller, shorter, laugh now. “see! that there. who needs affection when i have blind hatred?” you couldn’t lie, that made you laugh a little. you sighed with a slight smile. “i don’t really know you.” you say as you look up at the sky, admiring some of its stars. billie pauses for a moment, debating on what to say next. “then again you don’t really know me either.” after adding that part in, you brought your focus back to billie. her expression softens, she looks down at her own hands, before looking back at you, then back at her hands. “eilish. uh- my middle name is eilish. i always thought my last name was silly so i started introducing myself with my middle name when i was a kid.” even though she wasn’t looking at you, you where looking at her. “billie eilish. hm. has a nice ring to it.” your response gets her to lock eyes with you, noticing that you have a smile plastered on your face. this time you weren’t trying to hide it. “i can’t believe i drank so muchhh im so dumb.” you change the topic with a whine and put your head in your hands while leaning on your knees. “yeaaah i definitely didn’t picture you to be the party type.” billie didn’t want to push to ask why, but almost as if you could read her mind, you started to speak. “i let him get to me.” picking your head up with a sigh, you look back at her. “why though?” this time billie allows herself to push just the slightest bit. “i hate him.” you both pause, looking at each other, and then break out into a small fit of laughter. “well you’ve chosen the perfect revenge. tequila.” her small dig made you roll your eyes. “yeah yeah. no need to remind me eilish.” this was your first time giving her a nick name instead of the other way around. you didn’t notice, but this caused a small blush to creep across her face. “mhm. well i told you something about me, so do i get to hear something about you?” billie speaks with a slight nervous tone, almost like she’s unsure if she’s saying the right thing. you think for a few seconds, unsure of what you should or shouldn’t share. “i play the guitar. nothing fancy, im self taught, but it’s something i enjoy doing in solitude.” once again silence falls over you.

billie goes to say something but notices you leaning against the swings chain with your eyes closed. “y/n?” no response. she leans a little closer. “y/n??” once again no response. she quickly gets up and knees in front of you, bringing her hand to your face as she softly taps over and over again on your cheek. “hey, hey, hey- shit fuck- no no, y/n wake up- y/n can you hear me??” this makes you blink your eyes open and lean into her touch. your faces merely inches apart. “hey.. im up.. ‘js tired.” neither of you move. “y’know.. your eyes are so pretty.” you say just barley above a whisper. billie sighs with a smile, and also relief. she realizes her hand is still cupping your face, so she quickly pulls away. like clockwork a wave of nausea hits you. you turn your body around in the seat and start to throw up. it wasn’t a lot- but enough to make you audibly groan. “aaaand on that note, let’s get you home.” she pats your back and lets you finish up before helping you up and walks you to the car. billie of course took your keys the second she caught you from falling, so naturally she gets in the drivers seat. you didn’t even question it. you sip on some water as billie turns on the radio before she starts to drive you home. the sound of one of your favorite songs causes you to slightly turn up the volume. “god i love no doubt. such a good band.” billie only hums in response. “i should do this.” you say as billie then takes a quick look at you before bringing her attention back to the road. “do what?” she had no idea what you where talking about. “this!” you point to the radio. “start a band?” her question makes you scoff. “no become a car stereo. yes start a band! my father would looove that.” you lean your head against the back of the seat and start to look out the window. a part of you dreads going back home. “you don’t strike me as the type that would ask your father for permission.” billie doesn’t look at you, but it takes everything in her not to. “oh so you think you know me?” you turn your body in the passengers seat to face her a little more. billie chuckles and steals a quick look at you before leaning her right elbow on the center console and using her left hand to steer the car. “i’m gettin there.” billie says as she stops at a red light. “the only thing people know about me is that i’m ‘scary’ and a bitch.” you use finger quotes when saying the word scary while emphasizing the description others gave you. “yeah well i’m not a picnic either.” she looks at you after speaking, coincidentally at the same time you look at her- almost like the two of you are sharing a moment of connection before billie sees the light turn green from her peripheral vision. she turns back to the road and continues to drive. it gets quiet once more so billie begins to talk again. “so, what’s up with your dad? is he a pain in the ass?” you could tell billie’s question was genuine. “no not really, he just wants me to be someone i’m not.” after responding you notice the two of you are approaching your house. “who?” billie asks while putting the car into park. “bianca.” the question and answer was cut and dry. “ah bianca.. no offense or anything, i know everyone digs your sister, but uhm.. i think you’re the better stratford sister.” billie’s now turned towards you, leaning back in her seat. you start to stare at her, a little bit of new found admiration fills your chest. “you know, you’re not as vile as i thought you where.” you where now leaning in to her. inching closer and closer, lips parting, the want to kiss her taking over your whole body. you thought this is what you wanted, what she wanted, what you both wanted. but before your lips could connect with hers, she slightly pulls back and clears her throat before speaking. “maybe we should uh- do this another time.” you couldn’t even describe the intense emotions you felt. anger. disappointment. embarrassment. nothing was said before you stormed out of the car, slamming it shut.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

tag list <3 : @emilyshortcake

[oneforthemunny]

home is wherever i'm with you |hockey player!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: life on the road during hockey season is far less glamorous than you thought it would be. homesick and lonely, eddie tries to get you feeling better.

also special thank you to @angietherose for the name of the au hockey team :) eddie is officially on the indy reapers! thank you to all who voted as well!

contains: fluff, but there is slight angst at the beginning. mentions of loneliness, a little depression. slight-ish tension or strain on the relationship, but you know i make it happy at the end lol. language.

Pasadena, California - 1993 

Day seventeen on your six week excursion with Eddie. Well, excursion was a generous thing to call what this was. You were feeling more like a groupie for the Indianapolis Reapers, a puck bunny as Eddie’s teammates snickered, brows raised in suggest when they’d pass jersey clad girls lingering around their buses. Stop after stop- press, practice, training, games, all over the nation. 

A suitcase full of clothes you’d grown sick of already, longing to go home and trade them for something different, washing them in the sharp, sterile detergent of the hotels. You longed for your own sheets, perfumed with your own detergent. 

Eddie was gone for most of the day. You tried to sightsee on your own, explore the cities but it was lonely, lacking someone to giggle with over lattes, to hold your hand in the street, just to talk to. The other WAGS that came along, stuck out the long haul across the states, clung to each other, comfortable in their own little clique. You were too new, an outsider to their group. 

“Hey, babe,” Eddie pressed the key into the lock, twisting the heavy latch open. “Babe, do you have that stuff? Did you bring it?” He hummed, dropping his bag at the door, kicking off his sneakers. 

His nose curled at the pungent smell, ripe from the warming weather of California. “Jesus Christ, I gotta wash this stuff. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in the laundry thing.” Eddie hummed, sliding the slotted closet door open. “Can’t believe how warm it is here already. Feels so nice outside. You’ve been outside today, sweetheart?” He rambled, sweetly, tossing the powdered detergent into the washer, shoving the workout clothes from his bag into the tiny machine. 

The steady hum of the air conditioner filled the room, his only response. Eddie’s brows lifted, jamming the button of the washer, sliding the door back into place. He didn’t remember hearing you say you were leaving today, but he had taken a pretty hard hit to the glass during practice, ears still ringing dully. 

“Baby?” Eddie called, opening the bathroom door, empty of you other than the scattered products on the vanity. Heavy steps on the patterned carpet, Eddie walked into the bedroom suite, halting at the edge of the crumpled sheets. 

You laid on your side, still in what he’d left you in that morning, eyes puffy and red rimmed looking motionlessly out the window. “Hey, I thought you- I was, uh, I was just talking but-” Eddie’s heart beat in his throat, uneasy at the sight of you, crumpled in the sheets. “Are you ok?” 

You turned, cheek still pressed to your arms under the pillow, just enough to see him- all wild curls, matted and frizzy with helmet hair. “Yeah,” You croaked, throat scratchy and sore with sobs that had stilled hours ago, still you were plagued with the aftershocks of weeks of suppressed emotion. 

“I- I’m not trying to sound like a dick or anything here, but you’re clearly not.” Eddie said softly, slowly approaching the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, a warm hand rubbing over your ankle under the cool sheets. 

“Baby,” Your face crumpled at the coo, so sweet, gentle, it made your nose burn. “What’s goin’ on?” Eddie muttered, thumb circling your ankle bone gently. 

Your nose burned with a slow, shaky exhale that he felt, rattled all the way down your body under his touch. Eddie’s heart dropped. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie’s voice was softened but sharp, teetering on frantic. You turned, looking at his wide eyes, running over your frame in worry. “What’s goin’ on? What’s the matter?” 

Your lip wobbled, head screaming words you couldn’t bring yourself to say- you didn’t know how to say. “I just-” You took a breath, chest stuttering. “I don’t… feel good.” 

Eddie’s brows creased, crawling up the bed beside you. “Don’t feel good, like, sick?” He muttered, the back of his hand pressing to your palm. “You don’t feel hot t’me. What hurts? Is it your head still? I told you, baby, that hippie dippie shit only works so much. You have to take medicine-” 

“-No,” You shook your head, eyes squeezing tightly to keep your tears at bay. “It’s-it’s not that.” 

Eddie blinked carefully. “What? Is it, like, the time of the month? D’ya need me to go get some stuff for you? You know I don’t mind to. Not a problem for me, baby, just tell me what you need.” Eddie’s head tilted to the side, so sweet and doting, it made your chest heat with swarming guilt and adoration. 

“I’m not on my period. It’s nothing, Ed.” You shook your head, curling back into your pillow. 

Eddie stilled above you. “Are- Are you pregnant?” He whispered. 

“No.” You groaned quickly, head shaking into the warmth of the pillows. 

Eddie sighed lightly, a huff of relief that fell short, when your body turned from him, back towards the window with a long inhale. “Hey, can you- can you look at me? Please? Look at me, baby.” Eddie’s pitch raised, teetering towards scared, his hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently so you rolled on your back. 

He hovered over you, curls falling down nearly brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what’s going on. Please? Tell me what’s wrong.” Eddie whispered, nearly a beg. “You don’t feel good? You don’t feel good here?” His throat swelled, tight with fear. “With me?” 

Your silence had Eddie’s stomach twisting, dropping with fear, bile rising in the back of his throat- he was going to be sick, he was sure he would be. 

“No,” You muttered, head shaking lightly under the pillow. “Not with you, just,” You reached up, nervously twirling his curl around your finger. “Just with this.” 

Eddie swallowed, willing himself still, calm, though his heart felt like it might give out. “This? Wh-What do you mean this?” Eddie’s voice shook. 

You blinked up at him, eyes rounding in a sad softness he hadn’t seen before. “I just… I miss being home.” You whispered, eyes glossing with a fresh wave of tears that pricked your waterline. “I miss seeing my friends, and being in my own bed, a-and even work. I just,” Your breath hitched, lip trembling. “I’m just really lonely.” 

Eddie was sure his heart did give out, break right in his chest, sunk right to the pit of his stomach. “Do you- You wanna go home?” Eddie’s hand ran down your cheek gently. “That’s what you want? That would make you feel better?” 

Your face crumbled, caved into itself at his tone. “I-I don’t know.” You admitted, eyes squeezed shut to keep the tears in. “I don’t want to leave you, b-but I don’t-” You pressed your palms to your eyes, taking a slow inhale through your nose. “I just don’t want to be alone so much. A-And I know that’s not your fault. I know you’re working.” 

When your eyes did meet his, Eddie wished they’d stayed closed, heartbreakingly sad, vacant of that light that usually shone through, brightening anything cast in your gaze. “I just… I’m feeling homesick, ‘m sorry.” You muttered. “I just really miss home, and I’m having a bad day.” 

“You don’t- Don’t apologize.” Eddie shook his head. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were feelin’ like this.” Eddie swallowed, pulling you up gently. Your body was slack, limp with unmotivated movement, but still, you settled into his arms. The tension in your body melted, nose buried in the material of his shirt, lathered in cologne and the hot California air. 

“I have a half day tomorrow.” Eddie muttered, his heart beating fast, you could hear it, feel it. His hand smoothed up your back. “We’ll do something. Go exploring and stuff. Do some fun stuff.” 

“You’re ‘sposed to rest.” You muttered, cheek squished to his chest. “It’s before your game, you’re supposed to be resting.” 

“Yeah, but that is resting.” Eddie shook his head gently. “I’ll be alright. Promise. Played after way worse. Me and Josh used to come in hungover, vomited on the ice one time.” Eddie’s chest rumbled with soft laughter. “Pretty sure we’re the reason that rule’s in place now.” 

Your lips curled, even through your sullen, dazed mood, you couldn’t help it. Clinging to him tighter, you moved into his touch. “Coach just means take it easy like, don’t go get fucked up and actually sleep the night before.” Eddie muttered, chin tucking down onto your head. “C’mon, lemme take you out tomorrow. Me and you. Go anywhere you want.” 

You didn’t reply. Instead, sighed gently, settling into his hold. 

Eddie was restless through all of morning practice, hands buzzing, ready to run to the rental car at the first dismissal. Shower be damned, he’d take a quick one at the hotel, he couldn’t be held up any longer. 

“What’s goin’ on with you, Munson?” Elijah muttered, next to Eddie in the huddle on the ice, the coach’s droning about protocol for the game. 

“Nothin’.” Eddie whispered back, twisting his stick in his hands. “Just wish he’d fuckin’ hurry up.” 

Elijah’s eyes cut to Eddie, snorting lightly. “You got somewhere to be?” 

“Yeah, I do actually.” Eddie sighed out. “Gotta get back. Promised my girl I’d take her out.” 

Elijah’s brows raised. “Shit, you brought her with you?” 

Eddie’s shoulders tensed. “She wanted to come.” He muttered defensively. “I mean, she wanted to. Now it’s kinda fucked, she’s-” Eddie’s eyes cut around him. “She’s kinda homesick.” 

Elijah nodded slowly. “Yeah, that happens.” He fought back a smile. “When’s the last time you took her out?” 

Eddie’s eyes cut to him, defensive with accusation. “It’s not like that. I take her out.” 

“Yeah? On the off day? After we’ve traveled all day?” Elijah snorted, shaking his head. “C’mon, Munson. Believe me, that doesn’t count.” 

Eddie ignored him, gripping his stick with furious annoyance. The fuck did he know? He didn’t know anything. 

“Look, I’m not tryna piss you off. I did it, too. Just- believe me, alright? That one day shit doesn’t work.” Elijah pressed gently. 

“Hey, I got it, alright? I’m good.” Eddie growled. 

Elijah held his hands up in defense. “Alright, I’m just saying, when it was me,” He started. “I wasn’t meaning to. I just wasn't used to it. Had my own road routine and tried to fit her around it instead of into it. Thought it was going good until it wasn’t.” 

Eddie stilled, silent but shoulders slumping lightly. “You gotta change your routine, find a way to fit her into it. She’s on the road too, not just you.” Elijah continued. 

The coach whistled, waving them in dismissal. Eddie blinked, pulled out of his daze, lifting his helmet and stick with him. Elijah nodded at him. “Have fun tonight, Munson.” He smiled softly. “Make sure you take her somewhere nice.” 

Elijah’s words rang in Eddie’s head all the way back to the hotel, only a short drive from the arena. Eddie nearly threw his keys at the valet, sliding into the elevator shamelessly, bouncing on the balls of his toes until he reached your floor. 

You startled when he came in, sitting at the vanity, doing your makeup. “You’re done already?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie muttered, ducking down for a kiss. “Just gotta shower real quick, but are you hungry?” He shimmied his workout sweats onto the floor, kicking his socks off with them. 

Your eyes lingered over his bare lower half for a second, turning back to paint your mascara on. “I’m not starving.” You mumbled. 

“Alright, good, I was gonna see if we could go to this place. I think you’ll like it.” Eddie grinned over his shoulder at you, the hiss of the shower coming to life. “Some guys told me if you’re in Pasadena you gotta go here.” His smile so wide, eyes sparkling in the dim yellowed light of the hotel bathroom, it made your tummy tingle with warm excitement. 

“Promise you’re not looking?” Eddie mumbled, hands over your eyes, waddle-walking awkwardly behind you, pressed close to your back. 

“Swear I’m not.” You grinned. Eddie was right, it was beautiful outside. Warm and bright, light illuminating his hands that covered your eyes with a reddish glow. 

“I can feel you trying to. Your lashes are tickling me.” Eddie muttered, leaving you giggling. “Ok, just- you know what, this is good enough. I’m scared you’re gonna trip.” Eddie said, lips curling at your soft laugh. 

“Are you ready for your surprise?” You could hear Eddie’s grin in his voice, a breeze floating between the two of you. 

“Yes.” You giggled, Eddie’s chest swelling at the sound. “Just show me. Your hands are clammy. They’re gonna smear my mascara.” 

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie muttered sheepishly, a blush spilling on his cheeks, pulling his hands away so they were still in front of you. “Ok, ready?” 

“Eddie-” 

“-Sorry, Alright, one, two,” Eddie moved his hands, smiling proudly in front of you, a pinkish looking building behind you. “Here it is! Surprise!”

You blinked. “Oh.” You quipped softly. 

Eddie blinked, smile falling. “What? I thought you’d- You don’t like it?” 

“No,” You shook your head. “I mean, no, that’s- Where are we?” 

“Oh,” Eddie shook his head lightly. “Shit, I thought you’d know. Uh, apparently this place is supposed to be like the place for flowers, y’know? Pasadena has that flower festival thing, but it’s not until later and I know you like to go to the cool places, and-” Eddie motioned to the store behind him. 

You took in the building, spilling over with plants you could see from the inside. “I, uh, I know you miss home.” Eddie said softly. “And I was just thinking, y’know, we can’t get houseplants like at home, but maybe some bouquets? Some flowers for the hotel room.” 

Eddie waited a beat, desperately trying to read your face, eyes wandering over the building and the signs. “I thought maybe you’d pick out some flowers and-and it would make it feel like home.” Eddie’s hands slid down his jeans, hot from the sun beaming on them. “Plus, you wanted to see some around here, a-and y’know… one bird, two stones.” Eddie rambled, shrugging sheepishly. 

You felt the familiarity of a cry bubbling back in your chest, swelling and suffocation, only this time the aching of sadness was gone. In its place, a bubbling, burning feeling of adoration was left, consuming you from the inside out with every nervous glance Eddie gave you. He’d listened, really fucking listened. He always did, but this time it was different. Relief, comfort washing over you for the first time in days. 

It felt like home. 

Like the two of you were back in Hawkins, or Indianapolis even, perusing the usual spots, happy and content to be together in a familiar place. 

Eddie wasn’t expecting you to grab him, pull him into you with a fierce, sloppy kiss. Right there on the sidewalk, under the California sunshine. Lips melting into his, clawing and grabbing at his shirt, the back of his neck. Eddie’s cheeks burned bright when you pulled apart, a smile so wide and goofy it made you giggle. 

He let you grab his hand, lead him around the flower shop like a lost puppy, picking out anything and everything that made you smile. A bright bouquet spilling out beautifully in the green vase, made just for you. 

You sat it right on the small bedside table, beaming at how it livened up the room. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or you. Either way, it revived you, made you happier and giddier. Made the sheets of the hotel less cold when you slipped beneath them, legs tangled in his, pinning him under you onto the stiff mattress. It made the room brighter, spilling with a new fragrance that felt familiar. 

It was small, a miniscule way that meant the world to you; made you feel at home. Eddie knew it, planning how he’d do it with every next city, until you finally got back home.

[blackknight-kai]

SW x reader (fluff)

Where reader is kinda a homebody?, enjoys doing the chores and cooking Kinda like a stay at home wife type dynamic! (P.S. I love your writing!!! You feed the fandom I swear, you deserve more recognition!, and if you take this request thank you a million times over!)

Forgive me this isn’t a full fic but I have thoughts on this scenario.

First off, you being home all the time? Yeah Wukong is down with that. I think it would feed a sense of “protection” and “provide” thing for him. He’d bring you stuff all the time be it food to cook or things he finds that you might like.

He would also like knowing exactly where you are at all times. No chance of you getting into trouble or hurt while he’s off doing Wukong shenanigans. Although he might drag your ass along with him sometimes because he does like having you with him.

Coming home to a clean house, clean laundry, and fresh cooked meals? OH BOY IS THIS KING LIVING! He loves that! It makes him feel the King he is, not that you HAVE to do those things he’d have someone do it in a heartbeat if you said you didn’t want to anymore. But to have you providing things for him?? Hoooo! That tickles his fur. Especially after long days of beating up bad guys, causing chaos wherever he goes, and protecting what is his/who needs it.

Essentially you are home. Comfort. Warmth. And so him coming home from the never ending needy world to you just being THERE, thinking about making him dinner to make sure he eats before bed or making sure his clothes aren’t matted with dirt and blood, it really really soothes some ache deep inside him he didn’t know he had, someone taking care of him (although good luck getting him to admit that).

When he steps into your shared home all he has to do is be Wukong, not anyone else, just him. And if he’s tired? Or if he’s playful? Or if he’s quiet? You’re there right where he knows you’ll be.

He loves the little things you tell him about your day, what you did or saw. Or if you’d picked up a new hobby or discovered something. Being with you is like a relaxant, a balm for his soul, and he’s happy to share in your daily routine.

The thing that really gets him is you feel safe enough thanks to him to live your life as you want. No longer worrying about possible dangers or when you might eat next. Now you can feel the true comforts of home and enjoy the quiet (mostly because it’s Wukong…) life. And it’s because of HIM. He gets to see you be happy and he will continue to make is so, especially if he can snuggle into clean bed sheets and eat your tasty food all day every day for the rest of eternity and never stop smiling at him as soon as he walks in the door.

[tightjeansjavi]

And They Were Roommates | drabble

“Lavender Haze”

A/N: I have no explanation for this other than the fact that I’m severely touch deprived and want to take a bath with Joel and Logan 😔 thank you to @syd-djarin for the beautiful moodboard and thank u @sinsofsummers for betaing 😩

word count: 1.6k

Summary: A three-way in the bath OR Joel complains that his back hurts and you and Logan take care of him ;)

Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader

Warnings: mature, smut, mentions of alcohol, throuple, Joel and Logan are your boyfriends who are also boyfriends, language, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

The days are growing increasingly shorter and colder, and the winter months are steadfast on the horizon. But despite the chill in the air, and the dull ache in his lower back muscles and shoulders, Joel is content; satisfied. He knows that you and Logan are at home, anticipating his arrival. Joel can’t help but wonder what compromising situation he’ll find you and the Wolverine in today.

Just last week he stumbled upon quite the erotic scene, finding you sprawled out on the kitchen table beneath the sheer mass of Logan and his claws leaving long, jagged marks in the once pristine furnished wood. It was Joel’s favorite table, one of his first furnished pieces that he carved by hand. Logan apologized profusely—on his knees for the extensive damage he caused.

Today, however, the house was quiet—sans the familiar comforting crackles emitting from the fireplace in the living room.

There’s no sign of you, or Logan, till Joel’s good ear picks up on the distinct rumble of a low grunt, followed by a soft giggle coming from upstairs.

He let out a disgruntled sound from the back of his throat as he bent down to unlace his boots and immediately felt that familiar strain in his lower back from being on patrol all day.

“Gettin’ too fuckin’ old for this shit.” He muttered under his breath, kicking his boots to the side of the worn down welcome mat and hung the strap of his rifle along the hook in the wall.

His good ear perks up at the sound of your soft, desperate, little moans coming from up the stairs. He lets out a huff, subtly glancing down at the noticeable strain in his stiff, worn down jeans. There’s an endearing patch of mix-matched fabric stitched lovingly right along the thigh where a large, and obvious rip used to exist.

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and looks towards the top of the staircase with an amused grin. His favorite spot, the leather recliner near the fireplace is calling his name, beckoning him to sit down and rest his aching muscles, but his hardening cock has a mind of its own, and he misses his two lovers that he fondly calls home.

As he ascends up the stairs, he discovers articles of yours and Logan’s clothing scattered about, and he bends down, looping one of his fingers through the delicate hem of your discarded panties.

He slowly brings them up to his face, inspecting them with a twitch of his lips and the scent of your arousal permeating in the air. He inhales deeply, burying the bridge of his nose against the damp patch of fabric with a content sigh.

He stuffs your panties into the back pocket of his jeans and gathers up the rest of yours and Logan’s clothing on his way up. “Fuckin’ animals.” He chuckles to himself and makes a pit stop to the laundry basket in the hallway, first.

That’s when a new scent invades his senses; lavender.

His footsteps are undetected by either you and Logan, as you’re far too consumed with one another to hear Joel’s arrival.

You were surprised to hear that Logan was eager to take your offer up on having a relaxing afternoon soak in the tub, but you came to learn that the Wolverine did in fact enjoy a bit of pampering every now and then.

It started off innocent, with you giving Logan a well deserved scalp massage, lathering his hair in homemade lavender shampoo, but then he kissed you—and well, you couldn’t say no, not when he was whispering absolute filth between heated kisses, and guiding your hips to straddle his own. He didn’t give two fucks that you warned him about the risks of getting soap in his eyes, not when you were nestled so warmly around his aching cock.

“Don’t stop—please.” Joel hears the desperation in Logan’s throaty voice, and his jeans grow even tighter as he quietly pushes open the ajar bathroom door to find you and the Wolverine tangled together in the sudsy water surrounded by the soft glow of flickering candles.

And despite the way that his skin prickles with jealousy when he finds you nestled in the Wolverine’s lap, his arms wound around your waist, holding you flush, strong hands gripping the soft swell of your ass, blunt fingernails latching on like hooks. He doesn’t want his presence to be known, not yet, not while he can watch the way your breath mingles, hitches with want, and the languid roll of your hips—a constant rhythm being met with the sheer force of the Wolverine’s desperate thrusts causing ripples along the surface of the tub.

He crosses his arms against his chest, resting his exhausted back against the wall, watching the hidden desperation in a chaste kiss between you and Logan. He can feel your body buzzing with need—and the Wolverine can sense it, too.

“Thas’ it, sweet girl. Doin’ so good for me.” Logan purrs against your lips, a smirk appearing when he feels your nails digging into shoulder blades. His eyes roll back from the sensation of pain blurring into intoxicating pleasure. “Takin’ my cock so well, jus’ like you always do.”

Joel pushes himself off from the wall, padding over to the toilet and quietly flips the seat up before he undoes the buckle on his belt, followed by the metallic scritch of the zipper being yanked down.

The movement in the tub finally stills, and Logan briefly detaches his lips from yours, swollen with your kisses and a translucent thread of saliva hangs between you and him.

“That you, bub?” He rasps.

“Don’t stop on my account, Logan. Don’t wanna leave our girl hangin’, do we?” Joel answers back with a grin. “By the way, it reeks like a Bath and Body Works threw up in here.”

The other man laughs, loosening his grip around you slightly when you begin to pepper little kisses and nips at the base of his throat. “We would have waited for you, baby. But Logan has a way with his words.”

“His words, huh?” Joel teases and eases his cock out from its confines so he can finally piss. “Sure it was his words, and not his cock buried inside of you that did it?”

“He’s very persuasive.”

“Don’t I know it.” He grunts in reply.

“It was her magic hands that did it. You ever gotten a scalp massage from this one? I’m sure you have—but christ, she had me practically purring in her lap.”

“Mhm.” Joel hums and re-zips his jeans, closes the lid to the toilet seat and then flushes. “She does have magic fingers, that’s for damn sure.”

“Why don’t you join us, baby? The water is still warm.” You suggest with a coy smile, slipping out of Logan’s loose grasp so you can rest your elbows along the side of the tub.

“Mmm…but you know I hate baths, darlin.’”

“He does hate baths.” You said with a sigh, leaning back against Logan’s strong chest when his arms wrap around you once more, and his chin comes to rest along your shoulder.

“‘Sides, my back is fuckin’ killin’ me after patrol. Think im jus’ gonna crash out downstairs for a bit.” He reassures you both, pivoting on his heel to leave.

You and Logan share a knowing look and he brushes his lips against the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning the sensitive skin.

“Work too hard out there, Miller. Let us take care of you.” His voice rumbles against your ear as you lean further into him.

Joel’s lips twitch upwards as if he’s going to grin. “I see what you two shit stirrers are doin’, and it ain’t gonna work on me.” He softly scoffs, but his words don’t mirror his actions, and he feels that invisible, magnetic pull guiding him towards the tub.

“How about a kiss instead, baby? We’ve missed you.” You cooed.

“Alright.” He concedes, “one kiss for each of ya, and then I’m outta here.” He insists, but even he knows he can’t resist you or Logan in the end.

“One kiss, bub.” Logan rasps, and is already tilting his head upwards when Joel leans down, resting his hands along the side of the tub. Their lips brush just as you grab Joel’s hand and Logan reaches for the hem of his shirt. Together, you manage to pull Joel into the tub, sending watering sloshing over the rim and creating an even bigger puddle than before.

Joel’s not even the least bit angry, even though his scowl says otherwise. He laughs, deeply, right from his belly when he feels two pairs of lips along the side of his face.

“‘Coulda let me take my clothes off first.” He chuckles, turning his head to the side so that he can meet your lips, first.

“You wouldn’t have gotten in otherwise, bub.” Logan says teasingly, reaching for his belt under the water and undoes it swiftly.

“Touché, Howlett. Touché.” Joel sighs into your mouth, jaw going slack under the Wolverines touch when he pulls his cock free, finally.

The candles surrounding the tub have almost completely melted down by the time that you, Joel, and Logan pull yourselves out of the now lukewarm water.

The ache in Joel’s back is duller, now, and he can’t really complain much, especially after you and Logan took care of him devotedly. He still ends up lounged out on his favorite recliner, fireside with his clothes drying. A glass of whiskey sits perched in his palm as he relaxes, listening to the soft chatter between you and Logan in the kitchen.

A hidden smile appears over the rim of his glass, and he lets out a content sigh, warmth flooding his heart, all the way down to the tips of his toes.

So, this is what it feels like.

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[baka-bakeneko]

Crude - Toji Fushiguro x Fem! Reader [NSFW]

tags: NSFW, MDNI, non-canonical dirty Toji Fushiguro, scent/musk kink, fingering, shower sharing, oral sex, dominant Toji Fushiguro, thigh-fucking, over-the-shoulder, prone bone, multiple positions/orgasms, spanking, accidental creampie, wrap it before you tap it psa

wc: 2.9k

synopsis: Toji Fushiguro is a dirty man.

a/n: i need toji fushiguro 3-D body pillow asap. i'm back baby, i mean kinda, i dunno lemme know

You were sure you'd seen this man wearing this outfit for eight days straight. You could almost smell it. Toji had showed up for a date, one that you offered for the man to eat something, and here he was practically putrid and ripe.

"Why the fuck...?" You began, instantly reaching for your nose to cover it up. "Toji, come on."

He sat back on his chair, stretching his large arms over his head. The sweat stains under his arms were gray and lived-in, the hair under his arms matted and rancid. Not a swipe of deodorant in sight.

And this man came through your apartment lobby like this. You covered your mouth then, recycling your bit of untainted air back through your nose.

"What? I've been busy," he said, crossing his hands behind his head after scratching at his crotch over his shorts.

Toji kicked a foot up on your table, accentuating his stench with the flutter of his athletic shorts. You looked away, noting his shorts leg ride up to show his bare thigh.

"Bullshit!" You exclaimed, pointing in the direction of your bedroom. "Shower, three times. Please."

Toji scoffed, hiding a roll of his eyes as he planted his foot back to the floor. He stood, dropping his arms and towered over you. Leaning in, he met your gaze and grabbed your wrist from your mouth.

You attempted to hold onto your clean air for a moment longer until this man stole it from you; he sneered, nosing you teasingly before pecking your lips.

"You're more than welcome to join me." He breathed into your face, causing your nose to screw up at the sour scent wafting from his mouth.

You shut your eyes, hid a disgusted shudder from his assaulting demeanor. "After you brush your teeth."

Toji's hand grabbed at your jaw, righted you before him and open mouth huffed in your face. "Won't change shit if I eat pussy afterwards."

Your top lip curled, the want to be disgusted stamped down by the hum of desire that began from your core. You wished your body didn't react to his words that way, especially with how rancid he came off.

"Do I offend you?" Toji teased menacingly, raising an arm to flex his bicep before wafting his stench in your direction.

Of course he reeked. It was a scent only Toji could produce, so foul and ripe from sleeping and working out in the same filth to concentrate his body odor. But it was also an alluring scent from him as well.

Masculine and sharp, his skin a salty and rough texture on naturally soft skin. You blinked and shook your head.

"Shower, Fushiguro. Right now." You demanded, swatting your boyfriend's hand from your face.

Toji spared a grimace at you, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and peeling it off while heading in the direction of the bathroom. He rubbed the soiled fabric harshly under his arms then tossed it back at you with a purse of his lips. An air kiss.

"Put that in the hamper, doll."

You stood, your boyfriend's disgusting shirt assaulting your senses with the throw and now in your hands. Glaring after Toji, you balled up his shirt and threw it hard in the direction of the laundry.

You followed after Toji, in the direction of your bedroom, to retrieve him a new towel and washcloth. He leaned his head out of the bathroom with a muted whistle, his mouth foaming white with his spare toothbrush shoved into his cheek.

"Come on," he drew out, his eyes raking along your body. "Get dirty and clean at the same time."

You playfully ignored him, grinning to yourself as you rifled through the linen closet to retrieve his towel. Returning to the bathroom, you held the towel out for him and he gripped your wrist, pulling you into the bathroom.

Mouth clean of foam, Toji hiked you onto the counter and dove in to kiss you. His hands wasted no time, grabbing at your pants and expertly peeling them off of you. He left you no time to protest, his fingers, which you willfully ignored the thought of them being filthy, found your clit and pet in circles.

Toji wedged between your knees, diving his tongue between your lips as a teaser while his free hand pawed under your shirt. Tearing your breasts from your bra, he caressed his thumb to your nipple; cradling your breast in his hand, he worked in tandem to break you down instantly.

You bit back to catch your breath, barely an inch from Toji's newly minty lips. His scent without his shirt was stinging, disgusting headiness that made your knees tense at his waist.

Inhaling deep through your nose, you caught onto more of him; layers of his natural body unfurling and mesmerizing you. You gulped, swallowing a taste of his musk.

Toji descended on your lips again, hungered, as his two fingers lingered before your wet pussy. He maneuvered his thumb to press right at your clit, buttoning a shock wave up your spine that he elevated with a slight pinch to your nipple.

You crooned into his mouth, earning his thick fingers sliding into you. You body melted against him, feeling his digits tap against your g-spot and meet the gentle rocking of his thumb.

"Toji," you whined against him, angling your hips out for him to plunge deeper.

He smiled against your lips, continuing his efforts to make you cum. Toji's fingers kept pace while his thumb sped up, weighing down on your clit to have you sit up in anticipation.

"K-keep going," you begged, your hand grabbing his forearm to push him in deeper.

The further his fingers went, the fuller you felt and the closer you felt to seeing stars. You broke from his lips with a pant, turning your head slightly to catch yourself.

Toji forced his nose against your temple, his lips hovering over your ear. "You want to cum so bad. I know you fucking do."

Your brows furrowed, straining against his words and meddling fingers. Your other hand folded over your breast, trying to stop his hand. Toji flushed himself against you, jostling his fingers further inside you.

You folded against his shoulder, open-mouth panting as you came hard on his fingers. Your pussy clenched tightly around his digits, feeling his nails clip slightly into your begging walls. Still, you rode it out, angling your hips to keep the movement going until Toji pulled his fingers away.

He chuckled at the sight, his middle and ring finger glistening with your juices. Keeping your eyes, he licked them clean then dragged his knuckles against your lips to paint you with the remainder.

"Shower," he ordered casually, tilting his head in the direction of your shower guarded with a large glass wall.

You slid off of the counter, regaining your strength with stepping out of your pants. You peeled off your shirt and discarded your bra, walking over to turn on the water.

Toji licked his lips, watching you bend into the open shower stall and flick the faucet on. He dropped his shorts, stepping out of them and allowing the air to embrace his scent.

The new addition had your mouth watering fiercely, the water only adding to the effect. Standing upright, you stepped into the shower stall and waited for Toji to join.

His large frame blocked most of your body from the warm water spray, trickles of the splatter bounced from his shoulders and onto you. You stood, cross-armed, before your boyfriend while he tilted his head back to wet his hair.

The water cascaded down his lean body in deep rivers, splitting over his belly button and following his v-lines to culminate around his penis.

You reached a hand out, grabbing your soap bar, before gripping his hard cock and stroking him easily. Toji's eyelids fluttered as he tilted his head into the spray with a groan.

You licked your lips, holding your soap bar against his hip while you took a knee before him. Toji glanced down at you, ready to watch you take him in your mouth.

You nosed at his cock shyly, inhaling his natural musk before kissing his tip. Tongue tempting the underside, tracing his seam up to his slit. Toji's hands found their way to the sides of your face, seething between his teeth while he knotted his fingers in your hair.

The salt tang on his cock made you melt to your core, thinking of him leaking precum while fingering you. You moaned, opening your mouth to take in Toji's length.

"Good girl, returning the favor," he praised with a grunt. His shoulders relaxed as you took him in your mouth, his cock prodding to the back of your throat.

Toji moaned lowly, his fingers untangling from your hair enough to reach for the shampoo bottle; squeezing a dollop in his hand, he worked it through his own hair, stretching his back and softly thrusting into your mouth.

You managed to bob your mouth on his cock, your soap-filled hand on his hip lathering at his thigh. Your other hand went between your legs, whimpering at the lewd warmth that pooled in your stomach.

"That's right, get yourself off again. Nasty little bitch in heat," Toji barked sultrily, tilting his head down to meet your eyes.

You stared at him, his hair soaped up and his right eye squeezed shut to prevent the slip of shampoo down his forehead. You took him in further, pausing to keep his gaze on you.

His soaped hand carefully caressed your hollowed cheek, groaning in praise. Your other hand grabbed at his hip, working his cock as he twitched before you.

Without warning, you felt Toji's cock spurt at the back of your throat, bouncing lazily against your tongue as his hand gripped at your jaw. "Good fucking girl."

At the same time, you felt your pussy drip onto your fingers in response; pulling yourself off of Toji's cock, you stared at his body before you, glistening and wet. You readily wanted to jump on him, feeling your knees springing in anticipation of what was to come.

Swallowing down his essence, you pulled yourself to your feet. Toji turned you into the spray of shower, combing his fingers through your hair before gathering a second dollop of shampoo.

His fingers started at the bottom of your scalp, tenderly massaging their way up into your hair. You groaned at the gentle work of his fingers on your head, almost as good as between your hips. Toji worked up a lather, going from your temples to the middle of your head and swiping the excess from your forehead.

"Lean into me," he ordered casually, which you followed.

With doing so, his hands slipped down your neck and took the soap from your hands. He lathered around your waist, then up to cup your breasts before squeezing in infatuation.

You giggled, feeling his fingers toy with your nipples. His cock hardened between your thighs, his tip peeking from the front. The warmth in your stomach was emboldened, anxious for the final act.

Resting your head against his shoulder, you welcomed Toji's soft, adoring touch. His fingers roamed along your sides, around your stomach, down your thighs before gripping your hips and shifting you forward.

You hummed, feeling his cock slip back to caress your lips; Toji grunted in response, pulling you back against him and pushing his tip past your slippery thighs.

He did it again, gaining an edge as he tapped his head against your warm entrance. You sighed, eyes rolling as your arm circled behind his neck.

Toji exhaled heavily over your body, turning his scarred lips to meet your ear. "Better than going out, right?"

You smiled, following Toji's manhandling back again with your ass bracing his waist. He pulled a hand back up to cross over your breasts, squeezing harder at you before pulling you up again then down another time.

Your breath caught, met with Toji's tongue darting into your ear. You whimpered, your knees locking together.

"Toji, please," you whined.

He chuckled into your ear. "Giving in?"

You nodded eagerly, the heat bubbling up from your hips into your stomach. Toji turned you around in his hold, then hoisted you over his wet shoulder.

A yelp caught in your throat, your hand bracing the shower tile as Toji shut off the water. He opened the glass door, carried you out of the bathroom and in the direction of the bedroom.

You nervously crossed your calves over one another, a fruitless effort, as Toji stopped at the doorway of your room to admire you on his shoulder.

He tapped harshly at the meat of your ass and thigh, making you flinch then whimper. His fingers stung against your wet skin; they slid over to sink two of his digits into your pussy.

You crooned, your hands bracing the small of Toji's back. He drilled into you, causing your toes to curl as your nails turned into his skin.

"Toji~" you whimpered, your knees melting apart.

He continued, chuckling at your squirming on his shoulder. Then, without warning, he pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean.

Toji made his way into the bedroom, stopping at the foot of your bed to throw you off of his shoulder.

You bounced in the middle of your previously done bed, your comforter flattening as you stretched out to the head of the bed. Toji grabbed your ankles, flipping you onto your stomach.

He ran his hand up your back, to the nape of your neck before taking grip of your hair. He tugged softly, drawing a moan out of you. With a knee on the bed, Toji tugged a bit harder, bringing you up on your knees to alleviate the pressure.

He grinned at the sight of you pulled up on your knees, your chest pressed to the bed. Toji's other hand took grip of your ass, thumbing your wet pussy open before spitting at your clit.

You grimaced, attempting to hold disgust to your boyfriend's action, but was silenced by his hand guiding his cock from your clit before sinking in.

You released a loud moan, barely stabilizing as Toji's hot cock drove into you slowly. Your knees braced further, steadying yourself as his length pushed up to your cervix.

You dipped your face to the bed, crying out from his girth. Toji bent and nibbled at your back, then up to your shoulder. "I love when you melt from being a brat."

Turning your ear to gather more of his words, Toji tenderly yanked your hair again. Pulling you to gasp as he withdrew from you.

"You could've had this sooner," Toji bit, his teeth lining your ear.

With a snap of his hips, he sank into you again and you folded to the bed. Toji chuckled into your ear, snaking his free hand around to peel you off of the bed.

Turning you on your side, Toji opened your leg with his own and fucked into you again. His hand in your hair relented, circling around to grasp your throat.

You moaned out again, panting along with Toji as he drove into you. Your body felt exposed, your skin alighting with new resolve. His hand grazed your thigh, up and down, then spanked your ass again.

You squeaked, stuck in Toji's hold as he dominated over you. Wiggling in his arms, you were caught tighter with Toji's hand tightening around you. He spanked again, making you tense.

Meeting his cock inside you at the same time of tensing, you came with a ferocity that left you breathless.

Toji paused, relishing in your hot, fluttering walls with soft strokes into you. He milked your orgasm to his benefit, drawing more moans and panting out of you before rolling onto his back.

He braced you upright on his lap, spearing on his cock. You whined, leaning forward to get off of your boyfriend. Toji licked his lips, bracing his hand to the small of your back to ease you back on him.

He gently bounced you on his cock, feeling him reach new depths within you. Toji straightened you up on him again, his hands holding your hips to pump into you.

Toji spanked you again, making you pause to pulse around his cock again. He growled, drawing his hand back to run up your back again.

"That feels so fucking good," he said, spanking again. "Keep doing that."

It wasn't a conscious effort, just a bodily response with each spank he offered. He was relentless, spanking with every pump into you and earning your pussy gripping tighter on his cock.

Toji threw his head back to release a choked moan, pulling you hard onto him. You bowed over, overstruck again with another orgasm.

He rocked his hips, lathering his cock in your drowning pussy, before turning his nails into your skin and coming inside you. You gasped, your hand bracing the bed between Toji's outstretched legs.

In the haze of euphoria, you felt dumbfounded; slowly pulling yourself out of Toji's hold, you felt his nails drag over your skin until his cock slid out of you.

On your knees, you felt his cum drizzle out of you, dripping onto your leg. Toji exhaled in awe, watching you present your gulping pussy before him. He drew his fingers down your leg, gathering his cum and fucking it back into you.

You keeled forward with another moan, squeezing around Toji's fingers as they caressed your molten walls.

He chuckled again, allowing you to hump on his fingers until you collapsed over his body. Pulling his fingers out of you, he offered them for you to lick clean.

"I think you'd be a good mom," he teased into your ear.

[nyenlover69]

✮⋆˙ Nyon X reader !!

! cw: Romance, kissing? Not much!!

! Ao3: Nyenlover69!

! Pairings: You and Nyon, obviously!

Summary: Getting sleep in the ivory household is hard with all the noise. During a restless night you try to find comfort in a certain someone. NOTE: Я тебя люблю means I love you!

The house was never truly quiet, but at least it had its quieter moments. Moments where the usual chaos faded into something softer, where only the steady chime of Luther’s old, “decorative” grandfather clock remained.

But tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

Hours of tossing and turning, annoyed groans, and the faint screeching from down the hall had left you restless. It was bad enough being trapped in this hellhole, forced to sleep on a torn beanbag, but now, you couldn’t even get a decent night’s rest.

You were used to Randal’s late-night screaming, but tonight, it was impossible to ignore. The sudden burst of cursing, followed by the unmistakable thud of something hitting the wall, probably another failed round of whatever game he was playing, jolted you fully awake.

Sighing, you rolled onto your side, pulling the blanket over your head in a weak attempt to drown out the noise. It didn’t help. The house was always too loud when you wanted silence, too quiet when you actually needed the noise.

“What the hell do I do now?”

The thought lingered, heavy with exhaustion. With another sigh, you forced yourself upright, peeling yourself off the beanbag chair and onto unsteady feet.

The old wooden floorboards groaned under your weight as you trudged forward, mindlessly drifting toward Nyon and Nyen’s shared bedroom. Randal’s shouting faded into nonsense (if it wasn’t already) as you carefully avoided the endless trinkets scattered across the dark hallways.

<3

After what felt like forever, your shaky hand finally reached for the worn-down doorknob, its cold metal surface pressing against your palm. Before you even registered what you were doing, you had already nudged the door open, peering cautiously into the shared bedroom.

The pungent scent of cigarette smoke and dust clung to the air, thick and suffocating. The room was an absolute mess—heaps of laundry were strewn across the floor, no doubt belonging to Nyen. You carefully stepped forward, scanning the room, your eyes landing on the bunk beds.

Nyon’s was empty.

The realization settled in slowly, a quiet, unexpected weight in your chest. The sheets were untouched, neatly folded, as if he hadn’t been there all night.

From the top bunk, a loud, obnoxious snore broke the silence.

You flinched, turning just in time to see Nyen sprawled out like he owned the place, one arm dangling lazily over the edge, face half-buried in his pillow. Another snore rattled through the air, followed by an unconscious grumble. Of course, he’d sleep through Randal’s yelling with all that snoring to cover it up.

You understood why he left immediately.

Your attention snapped back to the empty bed below. If Nyon wasn’t here… where was he?

<3

All you wanted was to sleep and maybe talk to the only person you felt comfortable around in this house, but life had other plans I guess.

Slowly, you navigated through the incomprehensible maze of winding hallways, past the creaking floorboards and eerie shadows that stretched along the walls. The house felt endless at night, shifting and restless. After what felt like an eternity, you finally reached the front door.

A breath of fresh air. That’s all you need right now.

The door creaked faintly as you pushed it open, stepping onto the worn, half-faded welcome mat. A soft breeze brushed against your skin, the cool night air offering a rare moment of relief. Moonlight casts long shadows across the porch, illuminating the old wooden planks beneath your feet.

Silence, at last.

You inhaled deeply, expecting the crisp scent of pine and damp earth, the way the forest always smelled at night.

Instead, all you could smell was…smoke??

The vague scent curled faintly through the air, lingering, replacing what should have been fresh and calming. You turned your head, and that’s when you saw him.

Hunched against the far end of the porch, perched on a weakened wooden bench, Nyon sat still—motionless, yet unmistakably aware of you. His usual slouched posture made him blend into the night, almost disappearing into the flickering shadows cast by the porch lights. (Note: imagine his wide-eyed ass staring at u that’s SCARYY 😭😭)

You hadn’t even noticed him at first.

But he had noticed you.

<3

The faint glow of his MP3 player screen reflected in his tired eyes, the dim light flickering against the deep red circles beneath them. His head was bowed slightly, gaze unreadable, but you could feel the moment his attention shifted to you.

You hesitated.

Something about him looked… uneasy. Not in the way he usually was—quiet, awkward, keeping to himself—but tense. Like he hadn’t expected to be caught.

For a second, you considered leaving. You weren’t sure if he wanted company, and you felt bad for intruding. However, before you could decide, his eyes flickered up fully, locking onto yours—wide, surprised, unsure. And then, just as quickly, he looked away.

<3

“I… I’m sorry. Should I… er… leave you be?” you whispered under your breath, your voice barely audible over the swift hum of the wind.

At the sound of your voice, Nyon stiffened, his shoulders rising just slightly, his grip tightening over his knees as if bracing for something. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, his body tense like a startled animal caught in the open. Then, slowly, hesitantly, his fingers loosened, his posture shifting ever so slightly as if willing himself to relax.

“…No. You may stay,” he murmured, barely above a breath.

His voice was steadier than his body. Even in the dim porch light, you could see the way his hands curled and uncurled against the fabric of his jeans, the way his breath came just a little uneven like he was focusing too hard on keeping it steady. Without looking at you, he shifted to the side, making the smallest amount of space. Not quite an invitation, but not a rejection either?

You hesitated, glancing at the newly opened space beside him. Was he… letting you sit with him? Was that for you?

Before your thoughts could catch up, exhaustion won over hesitation. Your legs moved on their own, carrying you forward until the old wooden bench creaked beneath your weight. The sound cut through the stillness, sharp and splintering, and you felt him react beside you, fingers twitching nervously.

You weren’t even that close, yet you could feel him go rigid, almost like he was caught between instinct and thought, unsure whether to lean into the moment or escape it entirely. He shifted ever so slightly, barely an inch, a quiet retreat assuredly, but not far enough to push you away.

The silence stretched, and for a while, neither of you moved.

Then, after what felt like forever, he exhaled quietly, as if he had just made up his mind about something, before finally parting his lips to speak.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, voice low, distant, like the question had been lingering in his mind long before you arrived.

He still wouldn’t look at you. His eyes stayed fixed on the cigarette butt smashed against the porch floor, his gaze unfocused, like he was staring through it instead of at it. You watched as his fingers flexed against his knee as if they needed something to hold onto but had nothing to reach for.

You opened your mouth to answer—then paused. Instead of a response, all you did was move closer.

It was only then, in the dim, flickering porch light, that you noticed his face, half-lit by the glow, held the faintest trace of color. The tips of his ears, the curve of his cheekbone, just barely tinged pink.

He was blushing.

And you moved even closer.

<3

The space between you shrank, just enough that you could feel the faint tremor in his body, and hear the glitchy, muffled music spilling from his earbuds. The closer you got, the more you noticed—the way his hands started shaking aggressively against his lap, the uneven rise and fall of his chest as if he was trying too hard to keep his breathing steady.

Frankly, it was getting awkward.

What were you supposed to do? Say something? Pretend you didn’t notice how nervous he was.

You hesitated before finally breaking the silence.

“…I can leave if you want. No hard feelings,” you murmured, voice softer than you intended.

For a moment, nothing. No response, just the quiet hum of the night and the flickering porch light casting unsteady shadows over his face.

You took that as a yes.

Just as you started to push yourself up, a hand shot out, grabbing yours. Not rough. Not forceful. But desperately, softly.

His fingers curled lightly around yours, hesitant, uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you but couldn’t let you go, either.

“…Please stay out here with me.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, unsteady in a way that tightened your chest. You sat back down, closer this time, your hands still entwined together. After a few more moments of silence, he spoke up.

<3

“Would.. you like to… listen with me?”

Nyon’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. His fingers fumbled slightly with the MP3 player before he finally glanced at you, his soft red-rimmed eyes meeting yours for only a second before flickering away.

Even in the dim light, you could see the heat rising to his cheeks.

You smiled, tilting your head. “You didn’t have to ask, dummy.”

His breath hitched slightly, but he still reached out, pressing an earbud into your palm. His fingertips brushed against yours for barely a second before he pulled away, gripping the cord so tightly it might’ve popped.

The sound quality was terrible. Extremely. It was horrendous. Static-filled and distorted, the lyrics are barely recognizable. You had no idea what the song was, but honestly? You didn’t care.

The warmth of his shoulder was more distracting. You glanced at him again. He was staring straight ahead, unmoving, his face still flushed.

God, he was cute.

Maybe it was the way his lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Maybe it was how he kept stealing tiny glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

You smirked. You were too tired to think over what you were even saying at this point.

“You know…” you murmured, voice low, teasing, “You’re kind of cute when you get all nervous like this.”

His breath caught in his throat.

His fingers twitched, and before he could stop himself, his arm moved, slow, hesitant, but this time, with purpose.

You felt the weight of it settle around your shoulders, his touch gentle but firm, like he was still expecting you to pull away.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you leaned into him, your head lightly resting against his shoulder. His breath came slower now, steadier, though you swore you could still feel his heart racing beneath his skin.

For a moment, he stayed quiet. Then, barely above a whisper—so soft you almost missed it—

“…You’re the cute one.”

The warmth of his arm tightened around you, holding you just a little closer.

And under the quiet hum of static and song, the night faded into something softer.

You gazed up at the moonlit sky, exhaling deeply, grateful that through all this chaos, you had something—no, someone—who could give you the quiet you needed. The soft silver glow bathed the world in light, illuminating the stillness, and when you turned your head, you saw it—the same glow catching the edges of Nyon’s face, highlighting the warmth in his quiet, lingering stare.

And for a while, you looked back down into the endless abyss of the night sky. The stars above twinkled like scattered dust, flickering in ways that felt almost familiar. They were cold, like shattered glass, but soft—soft like a whisper against skin.

A sky full of stars.

And he was looking at you.

A quiet warmth bloomed in your chest, one you couldn’t name, one you didn’t have to. You shifted closer, pressing yourself into the crook of his neck.

You felt his entire body tense, his breath catching in his throat, but he didn’t move away. He just sat there, stiff and warm and unsure, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. But you did.

He was soft. He was comforting. And he was the first thing in this house that had ever made you feel at peace. You turned your head slightly, eyes tracing over his face—the sharp angles, the way his lips parted slightly, the nervous flicker in his gaze as he refused to look at you.

His breath was uneven. His fingers twitched at his side, flexing and clenching like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“…Nyon.”

At the sound of his name, he stilled. Completely.

Slowly, you leaned in—closer, closer, so close your noses almost brushed.

That got his attention.

His wide, red-ringed eyes finally darted to yours, pupils slightly enlarged, his face burning like a fever beneath the soft glow of the porch light.

You swore he wasn’t even breathing.

God, he looked so cute like this. Frozen, wide-eyed, lips barely parted, as if he wanted to say something—beg for something—but couldn’t.

You smiled. You leaned in closer and closer till your lips were mere centimeters away from each other. You could feel his grip on your hand tighten as he pulled you closer to him, almost as if he’d lose you if he didn’t.

And then you kissed him.

It was quick, barely even a second, a soft press of lips that left him completely wrecked.

You pulled back just enough to see his face—his breath shaky, his face blushed a bright red, and his body practically trembling.

For a long moment, he just stared at you, eyes looking at you with such an adoration before slowly pulling you back into a kiss.

You chuckled, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck like nothing happened.

“You’re cute.”

He made some kind of strangled sound in response, but you were already drifting off, letting the warmth of him pull you under.

<3

Sleep was already pulling at you, dragging you down into its quiet embrace. You barely heard it when he whispered, voice low and uncertain—

“Are you… awake?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. You were already half-drifting, the sound of his unsteady breath mixing with the quiet crackle of music.

His arm tightened around you, his grip firmer, protective.

For a long moment, nothing.

Then, as soft as the moonlight, he murmured into the stillness—

“Я тебя люблю.”

[sweetiebarnes]

FAVORITE PLACES

Various characters and their favorite places to have sex.

Warnings: public sex, shower sex, car sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, cum kink, basically this is all filth.

A/N: Please do not report this! It's so frustrating to have things reported. If I missed any warnings you feel should be listed, please let me know. Gifs made by me. I know I didn't list all of Seb's characters, but I did some of my favorites.

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 - After being denied pleasure for many years, Bucky is desperate. He’s more than happy to have sex any place at any time. Out to dinner with friends? He doesn’t care, he’ll gladly take you in the bathroom of the restaurant. Heading to a mission? No better place than the back of the jet. He even took you in the laundry room of your parent’s house. The man is insatiable. 

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧- Carter loves the thrill of making you cum while riding the elevator. It all started when the two of you got stuck on one. He knew he needed to distract you somehow. What better way than having you cum on his cock? Now, whenever you two ride one together, he considers it a challenge to see just how fast he can make you cum.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 - Charles loves to take you apart in the back seat of his red convertible. He gets even more excited when you let him keep the top down. It’s almost like he’s determined to get caught. He craves the sound of your moans and screams. Let the townspeople hear you while his tongue is buried deep into your soaked pussy. 

𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - The gym, of course. Lance loves to use the different gymnastics equipment to his advantage. You'd never considered yourself to be flexible. That is, until Lance came along. He causes you to bend and stretch in ways you didn't even know was possible. Whether it's bending you over the pommel horse or having you ride him on top of the mats, he always manages to give you a solid workout.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - Lee loves to fuck you at the station. It all started when he spotted two of his deputies staring at your ass. That afternoon he made sure they all knew who you belonged to. He bent you over his desk and pounded into you until you were screaming his name. Now anytime you bring his lunch (which happens frequently). Everyone in the station knows what’s about to happen. Lee can't help but feel smug as you walk out of his office with his cum running down your thighs.

𝐌𝐚𝐱 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 - Max craves the riches in life. He lives for the thrill. He loves to have sex in your current mark's house. Once, you were conning a millionaire. Max fucked you up against the window of the man's penthouse. He always finds a way to be a part of the con. Whether it's posing as your best friend, brother, or coworker. He doesn't care. As long he finds a way to have you.

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 - Mickey loves to fool around inside his DJ booth. Once the club was so dark, he was able to fuck you without anyone noticing. He's constantly looking for opportunities to make it happen again. But most of the time, the two of you are only able to manage to sneak in a blow job or some fingering. It doesn't matter though, because the set is over. He'll find a place so he can be buried deep inside your pussy.

𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐫- Nick loves to take you apart in the shower. There's just something about the way the water trickles down your breasts that makes him feral. He loves the way you look with your hair soaked and the blissed-out expression on your face. Whether it's first thing in the morning or ending a long day. Nothing relaxes Nick more than a shower with you.

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐊𝐞𝐦𝐩 - Steve never expected to be able to fuck you once he put you in his basement. No, he thought once you found out the truth of everything, you’d want nothing to do with him. But that wasn’t the case at all. He quickly realizes you're just as twisted as he is. So, that's why he loves to fuck you while you're locked away. Knowing that his other victims are listening only causes him to want this more.

[dadsbongos]

mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy?

kink adventures tag 1.2 K words / warnings - mommy kink, stuckage, stepcest roleplay, p in v sex (unprotected), degradation? i think?

summary - tomura’s mental health and psychology is a nightmare which i thought should be highlighted here haha

~~~

"Honey!"

Wheels roll dully against the plastic mat beneath your boyfriend’s desk, then soft padding across carpet, then a twisted laugh, before finally the laundry room door creaks open. Brass handle thudding into the wall.

“What?”

Tomura’s tone is unusually callous, even downright bored, and you’d be offended if not for the sundress hanging around your spread thighs. Your precariously cramped waist between his dryer and the wall, and the budding anticipation swelling in your chest.

“Can you help me? I’m a little stuck…”

“Ugh,” with your head hanging, you can just barely peer at his socked feet behind you, he then falls to his knees. Sweatpants loose, a bulb growing more apparent at his groin. Uselessly his arms hang at his sides until they disappear up, two seconds later is the warmth of his palms on your hips, “Fine.”

You rock back towards him but make no other effort to slip from the gap, not that Tomura is actually pulling. He leans as if he is, and quiet, husky grunts leave his mouth as if he is, but the only difference in his hold is how he squeezes your love handles.

“How’d this even happen?” Tomura grumbles, one hand moving to the back of your neck and wrapping it with his hand to pull again, “You’re such a ditz, dunno how my dad married you.”

“Be nice!”

“Only thing you’re good for is…” he yanks you back, jerking your rear into his erection and grinding against you. His thumb brushes tenderly along the column of your throat, “I bet he doesn’t even give it to you right. Old, limp bastard,” he squeezes around the back of your neck, “You walk around here practically begging for it,” he sighs, “You’re meant to be a slut, not a housewife.”

“What’re you doing, Tomura?” you drawl your voice a little more shrill, kicking flaccidly at his thighs as he uses both hands to work down his pants. Knuckles scratching your skin, “Get me out!”

“I will,” he reaches beneath the soft, thin skirt of your dress to pull down your panties, “Gotta get you wet, add some friction, it’s pretty basic. Though, I guess someone like you wouldn’t understand that.”

Tomura is disturbingly good at the bratty step-son character.

Weirdly, it makes you push further into him.

Papping the flushed head of his cock against your slit, Tomura spreads you open with his tip, pouring into the way his girth is swallowed by your slick. Your back arches, chest burdening the floor, a soft whine escapes you, making Tomura reattach his hand on your neck. Palming your throat to use as leverage as he bucks inside you.

“Tomura,” you whine.

“Tenko.”

“Huh?”

As a distraction, you assume, Tomura thrusts until his thighs are clapping yours. He huffs and groans, “Call me Tenko.”

“Tenko,” you moan, his hand squeezing the sides of your neck, and the other wringing you back into him by your waist.

“Yeah, mommy?” surprise wavers your arousal again, “Something you need to say? Or do you just like squealing?”

“Tenko…?”

His chapped lips find your pulse, sucking and biting along your neck, tongue affectionately cooling his teeth marks. You feel as if you two should talk about this.

You also feel as if Tomura’s not in the talking mood.

You decide to temper your confusion for now, instead meeting him at every thrust.

“Mommy,” he whimpers, raking blunt nails along your hips, “So wet for me,” just to rub in the point, his hand on your neck flies under your dress and between your legs. Fingers dance along where his cock splits you open, glossing his fingers just to dangle in your face obnoxiously, “You like me that much?”

Tomura flips up the flowy skirt of your dress entirely, fake AC goodness melting away under frizzling, spastic energy. Slowly, he glides out of your cunt just to feel the slow suck and squeeze of your inside. Hot and gooey.

“What if he came home right now, huh?”

Yeah, what if?

You’d be exposed -- soaking and full of dick, chirping out little “ah, ah, ah!”s at Tomura’s demanding plunges. The taboo nature only makes you tighten around him, flinging a hand back to snag his loose shirt and wrangle him nigh on top of you. Vague buzzing flows from behind you, the raspy and teasing foundation of Tomura’s voice -- not that you’re listening. You’re smothering his sound with moans and whines of your own. Content to wail against the back wall of Tomura’s laundry room until he plucks you out from the gap by your neck.

“You listenin’?” he cackles, rolling you onto the cold laundry floor before lugging your thighs into his hands and gleefully listening to wheeze as he presses them to your chest. Dipping back into your plush cunt, Tomura hands his head and babbles lamely, “Tell me you need it, mommy. You want my cum, right? Tell me I can cum in you.”

“Want it so bad, baby,” you gasp and twitch under his newfound vigor, “Cum in me, cum for mommy.”

Heat flares in your face as you call yourself such a perverted title.

But you just can’t stop.

“Mommy loves your cock, honey.”

“Uh-huh?” Tomura’s cheeks are stained red, voice now dripping pathetic.

“Fucking mommy so well.”

“Uh-huh?” he inhales sharply, eyes clenched shut.

He stretches over you, muffling your next sentence by obsessively kissing your lips.

“Such a good boy.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh?” he mutters against your lips.

“Cum inside mommy, Tenko,” you coo, back arching off the floor.

“Ohmygod, fuck!” Tomura stills inside your cunt, eyes flying open as he heaves for breath -- cum spilling inside you, “Fuck me!”

He collapses onto you, releasing your legs to curl around him. You scratch through his shaggy hair silently, letting your eyes flutter closed. You allow yourself to bask in the moment before ‘spontaneously’ Remembering™.

. . .

“So…” you drawl, post euphoria glow fading way to curiosity, both natural and morbid, “Tenko?”

“I changed my name. A long time ago. I don’t go by Tenko anymore.”

“Obviously,” you sit up, elbows pitched against the hardwood floor. He can sense your upset, he must be able to because he’s pointedly ignoring your stare, “Tomura.”

“What?”

“Is there anything I should know about?” in his silence, you flood the room with more words, “I get it, if there’s something you’re not ready to share. I just don’t want you to think you have to keep anything from me. Or that, I dunno. I don’t like the idea of finding something out like this, but years down the line. Or from one of your friends. I don’t want to not know you.”

Tomura’s only response is a quiet, “You want to be together years down the line?”

“Yeah,” you’d feel ridiculous for the admission, if Tomura didn’t look more flustered than you felt, “But you should probably be more open with me, you know?”

“It’s nothing,” he sighs, shakes his head, and quickly continues before you can pout, “I just hated my given name, so I started going by Tomura in grade school. Had it legally changed a few years ago.”

“That’s all?”

“I don’t talk to my Dad. And not usually my mom. Sometimes my sister.”

“Okay,” you can faintly string those details altogether, laying back down, “Thanks for sharing.”

Tomura yawns with a small nod, tightening his arms around you, “Now you have to tell me something when I’m in my right mind.”

“Okay :3 ”

[starpearlz]

request for quackity asking the reader (his crush) on a car ride date 🙏 he acts like a teenage girl when reader says yes

Yes or, yes? -> Quackity

“Y/nnnnnn” Quackity followed your Among Us character making you roll your eyes smiling. Deciding on ignoring him for a few seconds to do your tasks and see what he does. “Y/nnnnnn” you sighed playfully “what Q?” He giggled and made his voice with a funny accent, “I heard your coming my way, is that true?”

“I’m definitely not coming your way no.”

“What- no,” he said in his normal voice “I heard your coming to L.A.” he made a lil ‘tee-hee’ noise. “Is that true?”

“Yes, it is true. Why? You wanna come visit meee” you said playing along chuckling. Then foolish approached you two “STOP GO AWAY, STOP FOLLOWING ME.” Quackity yelled at him to make him go away but instead it just made him laugh.

“Why? Am I interrupting something?” He said laughing “YES YOU ARE GO AWAY! IM ABOUT TO PROPOSE-”

“WHAT!” Foolish yelled making you laugh, “-AN IDEA! IM ABOUT TO PROPOSE! NOW GO AWAY!” He yelled to him. “Alright alright, lemme just-“ he killed Quackity making you scream and run away forgetting to report the body and going straight to the emergency button.

While on Quackity stream he started playing “I’m drowning” but the Alvin and the chipmunks version, looking depressed at the fact that he just died the first five minutes.

•

“Y/N PLEASE LET ME JUST TELL YOU MY IDEA!” Quackity pleaded in a corner of the lobby. “OK.. what is your proposal?” He started giggling. “A driving steam!” He said giggling and clapping his hands. “Ok it’s a date!” He giggled “IT’S A DATE!!” I nodded and Quackity told everyone he’s ending stream to get to the laundry mat. You said your goodbyes and saw a message from discord

QUACKITY

We don’t actually have too if you want it’s just a suggestion we can just stream here.

He’s always the sweetest.

USERNAME

I don’t mind! Im ok regular or driving!

QUACKITY

Awesome! We’ll just see when you get here!

USERNAME

sweet!

USERNAME

but! Don’t forget about our date!

QUACKITY

Date?

USERNAME

Ofc! Stream or not you still owe me a car ride date!

On Quackity stream you can see him smiling and giggling. He peeked at chat and saw the embarrassing things chat was saying. “Ok chat!-“ he cut himself off by giggling. “Sorry!” He said covering his face giggling more. “Anyways. I have to go now!”

•

I hope this is ok :)

[4pfsukuna]

Enemies to f⭐️cking lover Toji

Ok so ive been thinking about releasing a 3-5 part enemies to lovers(or something along those lines) for toji although i know the most common works on here is one shot smut. Trust smut will be involved… its toji

You used to be an american spy but japan pays nearly tripple. The jobs were quick easy taking 2 days at max. You had climbed the interest ladder for your ability to get things done in a quick and neat fashion with minimal mess and uproar increasing your salary from 4 figures to six in only a couple of months. Unfortunately theres another assasin whos getting in your way and hes the exact opposite of everything you stand for. 

Not only does he not wear a mask to cover his identity, he lets his targets know exactly who he his just so they can have his name as their last thought before death.

Toji fushiguro.

The biggest jackass youve ever met.

This wasnt your typical one sided beef where youd get mad at him and hed flirt no he had beef with the number one assassin who was stealing his target which means his money. It truly grinded his gears and yours when they made you split a salary.

“Might as well go home princess” you hear his raspy voice though princess was said in a derogatory way hes made it clear several times he hated the way you did things. Why be so… clean. Death is death.

“Fuck off pretty boy go back and crawl into whatever shitty little backroom of a laundry mat and return to horse betting” you seethe having done your research on him. Its not like he needed the money for anything important unlike you who wanted it for taking care of responsibilities back home.

This mission had been one of your biggest yet and you did not need to blow your hiding spot nor cover by arguing with his big ass over nothing.

You're grabbed from the crouching position your in and slammed against the brick wall not hard enough to hurt but it does press into your all black outfit.

“You can do whatever research you want on me but you dont fucking know me… you dont know shit.” he snarls lip on his scar stretching further yet you shove him off. “And im not a pretty boy”

“Please youre not the threat you think you are” you scoff attempting to bruise his ego and the way he steps forward lets you know you did but you never let your guard down to your surroundings and youre quick to pull out your gun aiming in his direction.

He chuckles crossing his arms over his broad chest and you may be uninterested but youre not blind to how his compression tee squeezes him in a way thats… satisfactory to the eye.

“Going to shoot me princess? I thought you were too good to get your hands dirty. Squeemish at blood even” he pokes until you release six shots shooting the men slowly approaching that he failed to notice.

“You fucking shot me!” He growls touching the tiny drip of blood from where the bullet grazed the tip of his ear just enough to break skin not cause any definite damage. 

Taking a bow you smirk before making eye contact with him the only gap in your mask being the slot for your eyes.

“Oh sorry about that pretty boy, ill do you a solid and let you tell shiu you got this one all on your own.” you tease knowing his pride wouldn't let him take the credit for something he wouldn’t do. 

“No i don’t want your pity kill” he seethes looking as if he’s ready to throw a tantrum yet you can only smile knowing you won this battle.

“Great more money for me” you grin running past him the location no longer serving you any purpose. It was time to cash in and Shiu didnt stay up past 2am.

Toji grabs your arm stopping you from escaping though before he could speak the faint sound of sirens in the distance growing closer.

“What? You goin’ to hold me here until the cops get here with these other dead bodies how do you think that’s going to look? A big, strong and muscular giant holding a petite young woman like myself” you victimize yourself and you watch the frustration grow in his eyes knowing he has to let you go.

“Its not fucking over” he hisses releasing you with a slight push making your smile grow even wider.

“Great more chances for me to teach a pup like you what not to do” you tease tearing off a piece of his shirt and pressing it to his ear. “Wouldn’t want your blood at a crime scene would we fushiguru”

And youre dissapearing into the darkness of night and he watches your silhouette slip down an alley until he no longer can. 

You may have thought you had the last laugh but he was best friends with Shiu. So when you near you third week of no assignment you figure its time to reach out to the former and see what the issue is. Learning that Toji somehow convinced him you wanted a break you decided it was time to cut your ties temporarily with the man and find a new “project manager”

The next assignment is the most you’ve ever been offered so high in the six digits it’s close to seven and for a simple retreival mission.

So when youre standing surrounded

“Toj

Waking up with a throbbing headache youre confused when you meet the eyes of a spikey haired 5 year old who is playing with a toy truck a black puppy not to far behind. He must feel you stairing since he turns to face you and gives you a toothy grin.

“My dad must like you, he doesnt let us wear hats in the house but let you keep your mask on” he stutters slightly and you reach up feeling the mask

[ashlynredonovitch]

Saw you're looking for requests 😁 i haven't seen the wonka movie yet tbh but the gif of him covered in chocolate lives in my head rent free and I'd love to see wonka x fem!reader where they're friends and both have a crush on each other. she's helping him clean up from chocolate incident and it turns into some silly fluff and one of them accidentally says "i love you" and they finally confess :)

Thank you so much for the request, and don’t worry about the double-send it’s completely okay! I hope this is what you envisioned!

Warnings: none it’s just cute

Chocolate Towel

Willy, who’s covered in some brown, thick, substance. Assumingly chocolate knowing the trio of unliked chocolatiers. You start your way over to him as Noodle skips over to Abacus for a hug. You take notice that she’s covered in the same thing.

“Y/n,” Willy almost yells once he notices your presence,excusing himself from the family he was talking to. He wraps his arms around your waist as you reciprocate his hug.

“Hi, Willy,” you giggle lightly, taking in the chocolate scent, cause now it’s definitely chocolate, “what did they do to you? You’re so sticky.”

Willy’s brows furrowed at your worried expression as he took a glance at your appearance as well, making sure you were alright, “well, I’m fine now, they tried to drown Noodle and I in chocolate, but the little orange man saved us.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You questioned, backing up out of the hug. No way the little orange man was real.

“Yeah, we were being lifted by thousands of gallons of chocolate, we both took a breath, and then the next thing I knew I heard Noodle and I gasping for air and the tank was lowering,” Willy said, as he looked at your now even more worried expression, “it was scary, though, I swore that last breath I took was it. That I’d never see light again, that I’d never see you again.”

“Oh, Willy.” You muttered, throwing your arms back around him, simply taking in his presence, as you feel his arms squeeze tighter around you, his face in your neck, “I was so worried.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Willy apologized as you leant against each other.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Mr. Wonka, you almost died. I’m very glad you didn’t though.” You teased as Willy let his face contort to a smile at the name, “come on, we have to clean you up.”

You take Willy’s hand as you lead him down towards the dock, where you take off the hand towel from your waistband, to dip it in the lake water below the stairs.

“Y’know, y/n, this is where the Cartel sent me off on the boat,” Willy explained as you wrung out the excess water, convenient that you had a towel on you, the one perk of you being trapped in a laundry, he supposed.

“You did tell me that,” you dabbed the now wet towel along his face, clearing some of the chocolate, avoiding looking into his eyes.

Willy watched in amusement as you kept dipping the towel in the water because of its small size against the rather thick layers of chocolate on him, “I appreciate your effort, thank you.”

You smile as you take the chance to look directly at him, “of course, I’d do anything to help you, Willy. Besides, your chocolate smells better than this anyway,” you confess as he squeezes your arm with the towel, stopping your motions of cleaning him up. With your free hand, you bring it to his once curly hair to try to break apart the matted chocolate covering it.

Willy just leans into the touch as your fingers try to thread through it, his fixed gaze upon your lips, “I love you,” he whispered before his eyes slightly went wide.

You focus your eyes on his as he quickly snaps his up away from your lips, smirking slightly, “Willy-“

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean that. I mean, I did, just not now, while I’m half-covered in chocolate.” Willy rants as you stare affectionately at him.

“Y/n, what is it?” Willy asks as he brings his right hand up to cup your cheek.

“I-” you started to say, before you saw his eyes glance back down to your lips, “I love you too.”

Willy’s eyes, once again, grew as he looked into your eyes for any glimpse of the truth.

You smile as you put your hand on his, which was still on your cheek, your other hand still in his hair, “I do, I love you Willy Wonka.”

Willy beams as he throws his resting hand in your waist to bring you closer, putting his forehead against yours, “I want to kiss you, y/n,”

You smile as your hand starts to massage his head, putting your other hand over his shoulder, “please.”

Willy wasted no more time as he closed the distance between you, his soft lips covering yours as you leaned into the kiss. Getting even closer as you feel his hand tighten around our waist.

“Willy,” you gasp, pulling away, seeing his now kissed-pink lips, breathing heavily.

“Yeah?” He asks leaning in for a much more simple peck this time, taking one of his hands to tilt your chin up to his. Both of you with rosy stained cheeks.

“I’m glad you didn’t die, but I’m glad you got covered in chocolate,” you whisper with a giggle as Willy holds your chin in his hand.

“Me too, y/n, me too.” Willy says as you lean back in for another passionate kiss.