#but i got my eyes checked and ordered some new glasses so i'll have a second pair

[that-ineffable-devil]

I know I haven't Dead Boy Posted today, but don't worry, I'm going to start a rewatch again tonight and probably post unhinged shit throughout so I'll be that annoying Dead Boy Poster on your dash again soon enough, I promise.

[renhanaschewtoy]

Favorite Bartender

This one also got away from me OTZ I hope I did okay with Strade. Pardon my translation all I have is Google. I'll write Ren the cosplay handler when I get back from a con next week. If you're at Colossal North lmk! 💖 NSFW MDNI

There was something endearing about dive bars, there was something exclusive about them in their own right. People knew each other, there was a decorum of understanding. Regulars were their own type and new folk, out of towners, well- they usually couldn’t appreciate it fully. The Braying Mule was well and good, always rife with interesting people, but nobody could be “on” all the time. Strade knew that. In his own time, on the quiet nights he decided to be out but lay low, not on the prowl, not looking for an easy bright eyed mark, he was in this dive bar. The name didn’t even matter, the sign was so worn it had been taken down in a storm years ago- the owner just never bothered with it. Regulars kept business in order and they helped keep the place in check. Strade included himself in that roster. Granted nobody really knew him, all by his design. But he was endearing, he was liked here. Maybe it was just nice to shed away a little, wear a different mask.

And sometimes, even he had to admit, the acrid smell of the place reminded Strade of his own little projects. Pushing open the door, Strade moseyed up to the bar, giving a little nod and grin to a few other regulars who greeted him similarly or with a small wave or raise of a glass. Settling on an old worn stool, he leaned on the sticky lacquered wood and inspected the beer taps.

“You can stare at ‘em from sun up to sun down, they still haven’t gotten that funny sounding beer you keep trying to pitch.”

A teasing lilt of a voice draws his amber gaze over to your form shouldering the door behind the door open dragging a bucket of ice to dump into the bin and let the metal lid clatter shut. A grin pulls your lips as always. Ah- you. The feisty bartender who wasn’t afraid to talk shit to anybody, get their hands dirty if need be, keep the establishment and all in it in line with a way that was firm but fair. Admirable. “Ah, liebling, I didn’t know you were working tonight!” Strade mirrors your grin with a warm chuckle.

That was bullshit.

He knew your schedule.

He preferred to be here when you were here.

Though of course, sometimes he had to skip out or change it up so nobody, or you, got wise.

You give a playful roll of your eyes as you deftly pluck a stein and pull a tab with the glass tilted at the perfect practiced angle. A rich dark dark beer sits in front of him on an old cardboard coaster so worn it should likely be trash at this point. “It isn’t the one you were talking about but…you must’ve worn him down. He got a German beer.”

“You spoil me!”

“All I did was pour it.” You chuckle and lean against the back of the bar folding your arms expectantly, awaiting his verdict. Maybe it was because it was your job to serve him but Strade liked the attention you paid to him. It was different from the other patrons and regulars. You didn’t snap at him, your lips didn’t curl in a sneer at him, you didn’t wave him off. No- you paid attention, you listened, you participated. All beautiful qualities wrapped up into once very enticing package. Strade gives a little contented sigh before lifting the glass to his lips and taking a healthy swig, setting the glass down and wiping the foam from the corner his lips with his thumb.

“Hmm…it’s good. Strong.” Strade comments with a nod of approval before lifting his eyes to see you look some pleased with yourself about it. You could say all you wanted, but Strade picked up your tells. You were probably the one bothering the owner enough about getting a keg of something for him. You sweet little thing, you. “Do you know what it is?” He leans forward on his elbows with a tilt of his head as a lazy grin curls his lips. You look away and shrug.

���I dunno something something doppelbock or whatever.” You fib lamely, pretending as if you didn’t care, as if you weren’t pleased with your little stripe of success. Strade huffs a chuckle and leans back on the stool giving a hum of acknowledgement as he takes another sip. “How much do I owe you then?”

“Nah, on the house.” He knew that was coming, you always give him a few freebies here and there under the usual saying that everyone gets a free beer here and there with their regular patronage. But that usually only held after he had one or two, not just off rip. He gives you that disarming smile that makes most women swoon. It isn’t that you’re immune to it perse, rather a little more used to it. A motion of endearment to match your own. Strade watches you idly bustle around the bar, serving other customers, fetching fresh bottles, wiping down the bar- though the latter, it didn’t matter how much elbow grease you used. Occasionally he watches whatever is playing on the TVs around the joint, sipping his beer- of which you never let stay empty for too long. You always insisted it was muscle memory and your years of working but Strade noticed that he was given far better attention.

Drumming his fingers on the bar, he lazily looks to you, “It’s a slow night.” He muses thoughtfully, “Do a shot with me. It’s too lonely to alone.” His grin splits to show a flash of teeth and you chuckle, setting down a few clean pint glasses with a shake of your head as you lift a small, narrow can to your lips.

“Sorry, Strade. I don’t drink on the job.” You admit easily with a languid shrug as you take a few sip, Strade’s eyes glimpsing down to the column of your throat as it works to swallow your energy drink. He wonders what your throat might feel like in his grip, how smooth the skin would be against he callouses of his palms. How your pulse would flutter if he applied just the right amount of pressure. If he kissed that soft, unblemished skin, perhaps left marks. What did you like, he wondered? Did you prefer to be taken soft and gentle, peppered with praise and coos of endearment? Or did you like to be roughed up, bruising grips and mottled marks to decorate your skin while you’re growled filth at and degraded? It was a curious thought he entertained quite often, even so much as when he did take a victim home, sometimes he would imagine you when they were face down in the cheap foam mattress, when their hair was in his hand as he bucked his hips into their mouths…but you’d be different. You were different.

“Mmm…what a shame. You aren’t allowed to have a little fun?” Strade flutters his eyes for a moment to focus back on you, with a curious little brow arched on your face as you caught him daydreaming for but a moment. “Come on, it can be our little secret.” He teases mock conspiratorily, leaning towards you on the bar as. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Ah, I just don’t wanna risk getting messy on the clock.”

“One shot won’t fuck you up, liebling. You’re made of stronger stuff.”

“...You’re not going to let up until I do, eh?”

Strade pretends to look half heartedly apologetic but you both know he isn’t in the slightest. And to him a foot in the door is a foot in the door, sure- a shot on your shift is but an inch and he would just love to take your world. To become your world. He watches you give an exaggerated sigh of defeat and roll of your eyes before a playful smirk pulls your lips while you fish two shot glasses and begin to fill them. 

Taking you, owning you, breaking you- it’s all part of the same pipe dream. As tempted as Strade is, as easy as it would be; you had family and friends, you had a wide social circle that was sure to garner attention with your disappearance. And he would be directly connected to you with this little song and dance routine he’s come to adore so. Doing such to you is a thrilling danger he can only flirt with but never act on. And that’s part of the allure of it all, of you. The shot glass is pushed in front of him, some of the liquor spilling over the rim before he picks it up and meets you half way in a cheers. “To our little secret.” He grins and you both tap your glasses on the bar twice before clinking your glass against his, downing your shot with the same practiced ease that Strade does. Strade watches you exhale through your nose before shooting him a smirk. “See? And you’re fine!” He chimes and you roll your eyes playfully before scooping up the dirty shot glasses.

Strade shuffles up beside you, easily stringing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side. He smells of the beer you poured him, of lingering cigar smoke, a cologne of spice and musk that's as oddly comforting as it was masculine. “I'm…uh, just around back that way.” You mutter with a blush rising over your cheeks and pointing towards the back of the block. Strade chuckles to himself and nods, leading and preening at the feel of you leaning against him in kind. His large hand gives you shoulder an affectionate squeeze as you walk with some amicable conversation and goofing as usual, Strade's charm laid on a little thicker as he feigns a slur as if it was all your pours that impacted him so.

Hours tick and tock on by before you’re hollering last call for the bar. Strade settles up his tab and leaves you hefty tip that you, as always, try to give at least part of it back. Strade shakes his head, running a hand through his wavy chestnut hair. “You’ve earned it.” Strade insists as you pout at him before begrudgingly pocket the money. Not that you weren’t grateful but it felt excessive. Not that it mattered to him. “Hm…Let me walk you to your car.” Strade hums as he stands from the stool and fixes you with an expectant look.

“What? I’m not going to be done cleaning up here for like…another hour. I’ll be fine. I do it all the time. I’ve got my means.” You reply, waving him off as you begin to collect empty bottles and discarded napkins or coasters around the establishment. Strade’s huff is brief, but he rolls his shoulders back. Maybe he was being gluttonous after convincing you to break one little rule. “Besides, nobody but staff after we’re closed.”

“We already share one little secret, what’s one more? Surely some help and getting home sooner would be nice?” Strade urges, already beginning to upturn some barstools on other tables and onto the bar counter. Seeing you pause and chew your lip, seeing him already being able to sink his hooks in you, in any little way, is simply delightful. You play tough, you’re feisty, but clearly you like being looked after, like the attention he grants you. But you relent and give him a little smile that curls your lips, looking almost bashful. Strade gets a better look of behind the bar, be a little closer, be a little more alone with you and ultimately that’s all this was about really. Fostering trust, drawing you closer. Though it felt as if he was more in your orbit than anything but he was loathe to give up that control. This could only go so far, after all. Eventually you both finish up with your tasks about closing down the bar and you pull keys out of your pocket to lock up the doors as Strade waits behind you, hands leisurely in his pockets while he takes in the stillness of the night, or rather early morning. As if you two were the only people left alive for a moment.

“Ah, your chariot, liebling. Be safe getting home.” Strade grins as you unlock your car and he reaches for your door with a playful flourish and bow. You snicker to yourself, that ever charming grin pulling on your lips as you move to tuck into the driver's seat. He closes the door as your car rumbles to light and you give a shy little wave before pulling away which Strade returns. 

Fuck does he want more. Want you. Standing there in the empty back lot he gives himself a moment to envision you again. Spattered in warm, sticky blood…begging under his hands for mercy…what kind didn't matter, tears beading your lashes, the way your eyes would roll back and flutter in agony or pleasure… Strade’s cock begins to stiffen in his pants as a shaky sigh parts his lips, lidded gaze watching your taillights disappear down the street.

×××

Perhaps he couldn't do all he wanted.

But there were some he could.

Coincidences were funny things, unexpected, sometimes happy, sometimes messy, Strade usually embraced them with his large open arms. The confidence of a man who lived and knew that he could spin just about any scenario to his favor. Tonight was a night he opted not to go to your humble bar. Sometimes, distance made the heart grow fonder after all and Strade couldn’t bear to let you make him go soft. Well…you usually had a different lingering affect but that wasn’t here nor there. There were some critical things he wanted that you simply couldn’t satisfy. Strade knew better. Nobody should shit where they eat. Strade was many things but he wasn’t stupid. So tonight was a little more routine, a little more…designed for the inclinations that you couldn’t sate. But Strade could pretend through perhaps someone who looked a smidge like you.

Oh goddammit. God, of course he would come over and say something- you made a point to make eye contact. You suck in a breath through your teeth and force a smile as you turn to look at Strade; toothy grin on his face and holding his stein close to his chest. “Hey Strade. Yeah, uh…got cut early so figured I’d have a night out.” You shrug, unable to hold his honey colored gaze for too long which seems to raise his brows, a curious twinkle in his eye as he sets his mug down on the table beside your glass as you idly poke at the straw and shift the ice around. The woman he had been chatting up wasn’t beside him but you could feel her eyes prickling at the back of your neck.

At a different bar across town, Strade was posted up a heavy glass stein laden with a dark doppelbock like you had last served him. Fortunate that the bar served something similar but not quite the same. It seemed to be the theme of the night as he chattered up an oblivious and bubbly woman, they had hair just a few shades off from your own- too (short/long) to quite fit you but Strade could make do. Their eyes were a darker tinge of (color) from your own, their smile didn’t carry that unspoken sarcasm, her clothes nearly polar opposite but that was the least of his concerns. Those certainly didn’t matter at all. “A shame you got stood up, truly. But I will say- their loss is certainly my victory.” Strade chuckles smoothly as the woman gives a titter of laughter, covering her painted lips with her hand trying to be coquettish. He leans in to murmur the final string of words that will put the nail in the coffin.

“Hey- uh…can I get a (preferred drink)? Thanks.”

Strade would know that voice anywhere. What were you doing here? Today was usually another one of your closing shifts. His attention falters as he looks over to you and catches you glimpsing at him with a rather annoyed side eye before turning your attention back to the bartender. Taking your drink you flash the bartender a grateful smile and slip your tip on the bar before quickly turning on your heel to disappear into the throngs of other people in the bar. Your lips set in a tight line as you skulked over to your friend settled up at one of the tall tables and you leaned against it with a bitter sigh.

You had no right to feel this way, to feel jealous. Strade was a regular, he was a patron where you worked. You weren’t blind, you knew he was good with his words, you knew he was charming. You naturally had tripped up at his charms but felt damn good that you’d never gone ass over tea kettle for them. Maybe it was foolish to think you had chemistry. Maybe it was stupid to have a secret little self rule not to date regulars- after all there were plenty of other bars. But seeing him lean over that woman, being so close to her, that lazy little grin he often gave you, the way the woman looked up at him so enamored…it made your stomach twist in taut knots. Your friend raises a brow inquisitively that you simply shoot them a look that makes them swallow their words as you raise your glass to your lips for a sip.

“Buddy! I didn’t know you would be here! What a nice surprise.”

“A night out, well- I’d say that’s a good reward for you, hm? Be served rather than serving? I could never forgive myself if I missed an opportunity to buy you a drink myself.” Strade places a hand to his heart in playful theatrics that for a moment make you forget your sour mood and a small smile quirk your lips.

“I mean, I’d hate to interrupt your night. You seemed pretty uh…busy.” You’d cringe at the delivery of your own words, a small grimace crinkles your nose for but a moment as your shoulders stiffen. It takes all Strade has not to let smug satisfaction come over him as he hears the bitterness tinge your statement. You were jealous. Oh, he relished in that, he adored it even. You simply had a way of always just making his evenings. Elation rose in his chest as a better opportunity presented itself in you. Sure- your beautiful blood would never paint his basement but if Strade played his cards right, he was more than certain he could make you scream and cry in other ways.

“And miss such an occasion? Please. This was a boring night until you came along. As always.” Strade replies smoothly with a toothy grin, “It isn’t every night we get to be on the same side of the bar.” And with any luck he can get you all to himself. Play the right cards, say the right things, get you wrapped around his finger, or his cock- whatever worked. You return his smile, your shoulders relaxing as you look up at Strade and give a little bob of your head to relent.

“...Yeah, yeah you’re right. It could be fun.”

“Of course it’ll be fun, have you met me?” Strade gives you a little wink before being interrupted by the woman who decides she’s had enough of being sidelined.

“Uhmm…I thought we were leaving?” Her arms wind around Strade’s arm, pressing herself against him with an exaggerated pout, trying to set a tone as you simply look between Strade and the woman, as Strade simply arches a brow to her, and your friend raises their brows to their hairline, sipping their drink with rapt attention as if watching some sort of reality TV program.

“Hmm? Mein Gott, wie peinlich…” Strade mutters for but a moment, his words and tone are genuine though some irritation belies the sheepish look he forces onto his rugged features. “Just a moment, buddy.” Strade gives your shoulder that same squeeze as the nights before as he places a hand firmly on the other woman’s back and leads her away from the table. Your throat grows tight again with an irritated exhale.

The night carries on, you getting a little bolder with each drink, every shared shot as you laughed and joked, growing a more and more affectionate with each little sip of courage Strade was happy to give you. But you were smart, you didn’t want to wake up hungover and with no recollection of this night. You wanted to remember whatever it was that you got from him, be it another simple walk to your car and a night of revelry or if it was tangled up in either of your bedsheets. And Strade was all too happy to oblige, watching you flaunt your mettle in the bar but being careful all the same as not to lose your head. Strade wanted you to cut loose. Wanted you to be as untethered and wild as possible. But maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Your friend had since excused themself quietly- reading the room and sending you a knowing little wink and wave that you gleefully grinned at.

Unbeknownst to you, ever the opportunist, Strade wasn’t willing to let the other woman go either. After leading her out through the alley and cracking her head hard enough to the wall to hear the skull fracture, she was swiftly bound, gagged and deposited in his trunk. A midnight snack for a later date. So when he returned with a reddened cheek, he had an easy story to spin.

“The fuck happened to you? Christ.” You remark, instinctively reaching out to his cheek before retracting your hand.

“Ah…well, she didn’t quite take so well to being told I…wasn’t interested.” Strade remarks with a roll of his broad shoulders and he could almost see that flicker of approval in your eyes that he’d opted to spend his night with you instead.

“Feels like I should be the one buying you a drink.” You quip playfully, nudging him with your elbow, you’re careful with your contact now, you don’t want to seem too eager. And that’s fine. Strade flashes you a grin of pearly whites before slinging an arm around your shoulder again to tug you close in a side hug again.

“No, no, no, I am a man of my word, liebling. Tonight is all about showing you a good time.” Strade chuckles warmly, the timbre of his voice sending a shudder down his spine that he can feel against his built frame. His hand slips from your shoulder to the cinch of your waist this time with a firmer squeeze, possessive. And you leaned in. Like he knew you would.

“I could go for a cigarette right about now…care to join me?” Strade’s voice is low in your ear, warm breath fanning over the side of your neck as he carefully tucks a strand of (color, type) hair behind your ear before his hand slips down past your hip to slip itself into your back pocket. A large hand gropes the plush of your ass through the denim eliciting a sharp inhale from you, a rosy hue blooming over your cheeks as you bob your head and let him guide you out the back door as the crisp night air meets your exposed skin.

“I didn’t know you smoke.” You look up at him curiously as Strade tucks the two of you into the cover of an empty side alley.

“There’s much you don’t know about me yet, liebling. But I could say the same for you, no?” Strade’s eyes glance to the side before returning back to you, leaning against the brick wall so cavalier, so unaware of what Strade could do to you, all he wants to do to you.

But he would take this, there was an outlet for later.

Sweet serendipity.

Your eyes drift up as you see Strade’s frame looming over you, silhouetted by the moon. Suddenly aware of how close he is to you, that you can smell his cologne again and your breath hitches slightly before you swallow thickly. “...Stra–mmpf!” His name is barely off your tongue before his lips crash onto your own. Hungry and all consuming as Strade descends upon you, devouring you as he presses you back against the cold brick wall, pinning you to it and the bulk of his body. His teeth nip at your lower lip, demanding entry that your foggy brain is powerless but to comply to. You can taste the bitterness of beer on his tongue and he can taste the sweetness of whatever you had been ordering on his tab. Strade’s groan is swallowed as your arms lift to string around his neck, fingers carding through his hair and nails raking against his scalp. He feels your back arch, pressing your body closer to his own, Strade lets a low growl at your willing surrender as he shifts a thigh between your legs, applying pressure to your aching core. Strade’s lips leave your kiss swollen lips to let you pant and catch your breath, rivulets of spit connecting your mouths as your lidded, glassy eyes slowly lift to Strade.

“Look at you, liebling…” Strade coos almost mockingly and it makes something tighten in you abdomen  as the vice grip on your hips moves you lightly as if to help you ride his thigh that pulls a ragged moan from your throat. “Mmm…needy, hm? Don’t think I didn’t see that…that look from before…” Strade mutters as he dips his head to kiss along the curve of your jaw down to your throat, teeth nipping and tongue laving at the spots to leave a litany of marks in his wake. Little mewls leave your lips as you squirm under his grip, wanting to be closer, trying to form words but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. “...Don’t be embarrassed. I liked it…I’m flattered.” Strade purrs as he feels your hips buck against his thigh eagerly, hands fisting his wavy tresses that sends shockwaves straight to his cock that strains against the zipper.

Large hands drift to the button of your jeans, popping them open and the draw of your zipper being pulled down that makes your lashes flutter. “W-Wait…woah, St-Strade…not here, I-”

“Mmm? Why not here?” He teases, dragging the fabric down the smooth skin of your thighs that you suddenly tried to clamp shut. “No, no…” He tutts softly, prying them back apart, “Wouldn’t this be just so perfect? We are in private…and if someone were to see, well…” His tone is alight with amusement, “They could be jealous instead…that I have you.” Your nervous eyes can’t tear themselves away from the sight of Strade crouching between your legs, forcing you to lean back against the wall in nothing but your underwear that he moves about to expose your throbbing, eager sex. “Behave, liebling…I don’t do this for just anybody.” And that might be one of the truest things he’s ever said. Control was always a given, Strade to take what he wanted, perhaps you made him feel…generous. All the attention you’ve fawned upon him in your own way, how pliant you showed him you could be- and only for him, that was something that deserved to be rewarded. To melt you, make you more malleable in his hands. His tongue traces shapes and patterns along your sensitive flesh, one hand keeping your thighs apart before one disappears to nudge a finger at your entrance before easing a finger in, crooking it against that spongy spot of nerves before thrusting slowly as he spelled his own name with his tongue in a way that had you fighting against bucking your hips.

“F-Fuck…St- shit..! Strade…!” Your breath fans out in ragged pants as you watch him lave attention over a bundle of nerves paired with a thrusting digit that almost has your knees buckling. “...’m gonna…!” You keen eagerly, lashes fluttering as he feasts upon you wetly, soft sounds in the alley with your muffled moans as you bit down into your knuckle to feebly stifle your wanton sounds. Pressure builds and coils tight in your belly, flirting with the edge of euphoria until Strade bites the inside of your thigh eliciting a yelp from you. “The fuck?!” Strade stands up fast, with a dexterity and agility that didn’t match his size and stature, that had your body falter slightly against the bricks. Strade’s hand holds your chin in place  as he looks down at your lips and your furrowed brow. Your pleading was so sweet, so beautiful…god- he could make you beg more. But for now…well, Strade has his ways, as always. “Strade, please…” You groan and he seems amused all the more.

“Open your mouth.”

“Wh..huh?”

“Open, liebling. I won’t ask again.” There’s an authoritative edge to his voice that has your core throbbing, leaking as you’re exposed in the alley. The thrill of it all sending lightning through your veins as you slowly part your trembling lips. Strade gives a low, rumbling hum of approval before spitting onto your tongue making heat flood your cheeks and a humiliated whine in the back of your throat. “Swallow. You should be grateful…you taste so good.” Strade watches you close your mouth, your throat bob slowly as you swallow and sigh before your breath is stolen from your lungs again in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moan greedily. Parting for air is brief as you feel large calloused hands gripping your waist to pull you further upright, shuffle you around until your front is pressed to the brick, the fat of your cheek pressed to the cold bite of brick but Strade seems to mind the pressure and strength he holds over you as you’re bent, pants now pooled around your ankles but you’re too far gone to care. You arch your back with purpose, pressing your ass back against his hardened cock with an eager obedience that Strade adored so.

“So good for me, liebling…like you were made for me…” Strade huffs as you hear the soft clink of his belt buckle coming undone, a calloused hand groping the fat of your ass before shifting your underwear to meet with your jeans below you before you feel the bulbous head of his cock press against you. The hand on your ass moves to grip your hip and keep you steady while the other trails up the beautiful curve of your spine, up the nape of your neck before his fingers tangle in your hair, the grip is firm enough to sting a little but not hurt. Strade could if he wanted to, temptation was there most certainly but he’d go slow for you. Breaking you in piece by piece with rough affections that would leave you satisfied. He could feel how eagerly you were, how badly you wanted this, and how readily you responded to his means. You whine with his fingers in your hair, pressing your hips back and urging him in. And that’s all Strade needs, to have you wrapped around him. And wrapped around him you will be. Until you are bent and broken, full and delirious; treated better than anyone one else. You were something different, something special. Untouchable but in a way immortal to Strade.

Maybe you could be something… special and more permanent.

He was already flirting with something similar in Ren back home but you…oh, what fun it could all be. Thoughts for another day.

With a sudden snap of his hips, Strade buries himself in you with a brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs and has you choking on air as your body quivers at the sudden intrusion. “Ich kann fühlen wie du dich nach mir sehnst (I can feel you aching for me)…”Strade huffs with a smug smirk curling the corners of his lips as he sets a ruthless pace, the wet sound of skin colliding with skin, his heavy sac slapping against you with each push of his hips that you reciprocated in kind as your teeth dug into your lower lip trying to keep your sounds hushed but your body betrayed you. Strade bent over your back nipping at your ear as he stilled to more shallow thrusts to torture you further, “Just imagine, Liebling…someone seeing you spread out here for me…” He lilts in that low silken tone that has your walls clenching around him, fluttering with each filthy, honeyed word that drips from his lips. “Just a perfect little cock sleeve…just for me, yes?” Punctuated by a deliberate roll of his hips that has your lashes fluttering and eyes threatening to roll back into your skull. A sharp tug to your hair leaves your mouth agape as you tighten around his dick again with a breathy groan. “...Say it.”

“Sh-shit…please! Yes, please!” You nearly sobbed, desperation and want clouding all rational thought as you begged Strade, giving him the allowance to do as he pleased with you. Soft mutterings in his mother tongue left his lips; an assortment of praise, of filth, obscenities as his thrusting became staccato before a long, low growl parted Strade’s lips, muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Spilling into you with rivulets of thick, viscous cum while your walls milked him greedily, your own orgasm threatening to have your knees to collapse around you but Strade was quick to move his thick arms around your middle to keep you up, keep you in place as he pumped you full of his cum until it dripped out of you obscenely, forming a small puddle on the concrete. The vacant alley was only given life by the two of you panting raggedly to catch your breaths, Strade’s grip still a vice you wouldn’t be able to break from.

“Hhnngh!...fuck…just for you!” You manage to choke out pleadingly, trying to push your hips back but Strade halts entirely in a way that makes you whine.

“You can do better than that.”

“I d-don’t…wh…uh…” The brick digs into your palms as you try to collect your addled thoughts, of what words might appease him, “Haah~...mmm…J-Just for you, Strade.” You try as his name seems to be all that can fill the folds of your brain; his taste, his smell, the feel of him felt ingrained into you.

“That’s better…” He croons to you, however the feeling of you throbbing around his aching cock was just as torturous for Strade but he could be patient from time to time, when it counted anyway. Impulse won most of the time. “Taking me so well…” his breathing labored as you could feel him pressed to your back, hips pistoning with newfound vigor as Strade’s hand left your hair to close around your throat. No pressure is applied, simply relishing in the feeling of your erratic pulse as he fucks all coherent thought from your brain as he uses the leverage to bring your face to his in a sloppy kiss. All tongue and teeth, as if to consume you whole, that you would be devoured. “Mnnngh…hah…sucking me back in like that…such a slutty little hole…” Strade growls against your mouth as his hips slam against your ass so hard you were certain you’d be bruised by the end of it. “...fill you to the brim…” He huffs, a deep flush had risen from his throat to his cheeks, a heady look that washed over his features as sweat beaded on his brow dampening the curls that fell over his forehead.

“F-Fuck…” You breathe, slowly raising your hands to rest on his forearms, giving them a little tap, “I just…I can’t…” You were still trying to collect your thoughts and you could almost feel him smirk against your skin as you felt his breaths warm your sweat slicked skin.

“...Maybe I can interest you in a nightcap? At my place?” He hums, dislodging himself from your depths with a deep grunt as he watches you quiver and leak. You seem to take stock again, remembering where you are, as you quickly reach to tug up your underwear and jeans, pulling your shirt back down as Strade tucks himself back into his pants and adjusts his belt. You look so pretty like this, embarrassed but thrilled, debauched but dressed again- the tell tale signs of what- or rather who, happened to you, evident on the outside and inside.

“Huh? Oh, no…I don’t think so.” You breathe with a little chuckle and Strade looks at you, a dark and almost hollow look upon his face but for a minute that you seem to misinterpret. “Just cause my place is closer. C’mon.” You give him that fond, disarming smile as you dare to reach for his hand and lead him to the parking lot that has the brief uptick of annoyance assuaged from Strade entirely at your quick turnabout. He pushes a small smile on his lips before raising a hand to cup your jaw before holding the back of your skull and pressing another searing kiss to your lips.

“Give me your address and get ready for me…I just have to stop home very quickly. But I will be there.”

“If you stand me up, I’m pouring you Malort every time.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, liebling. You said so yourself, you’re just for me now.” He flashes you grin that holds an underlying meaning you can’t quite ferret out, but you giddy stride to your car to do as your told for a promised nightcap.

[roosterforme]

Scenic Route | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You can't wait to head back to the east coast for Christmas with your husband and your parents. But when your travel plans start to unravel, Bradley shows you what's really important. And you remember you already have everything you really need no matter where you are.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and mentions of smut

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

"All I want for Christmas is four days off from work, a little bit of snow, and your dick with a bow on it," you told your husband with a smile as you got in bed. You had an early flight to Maryland to visit your parents the next morning, and you hadn't seen them since your wedding last month.

Bradley shook his head. "No way I'm putting a bow on my dick at your parents' house."

You pouted at him as you took your glasses off and set them on your nightstand. "Wow. Next you'll be telling me that Santa Claus isn't even real."

"Oh, Sweetheart," he rasped, pulling you close. "I've got some bad news for you."

"Don't you dare say it!" you scolded, holding his lips shut. "I won't stand for that! When we have kids, are you going to try to ruin it for them, too?"

You released his lips while he burst out laughing. "I was going to say that the bad news is there's no snow in the forecast in Maryland."

"Oh," you sighed, cuddling up with him. "Well, I can deal with that as long as Santa is still real."

A handful of hours later, when your alarm was going off, you moaned and practically crawled into the bathroom.

"Hurry up," Bradley kept urging as you washed your face and brushed your teeth. "Airport parking is going to be a mess."

You rolled your eyes at him in the mirror, but he kept following you around until you were walking out to the driveway with your luggage and a travel mug of coffee. The only time he would agree to taking your car anywhere was when it was in an effort to protect the Bronco. So you drove him to the airport in your little car so the Bronco wouldn't 'get dinged up in the parking garage'. 

"You know what I'd love to get you for Christmas, Sweetheart? A new car." 

You smiled as he shifted around in the front seat. It was almost amusing how much he hated your little car, but you loved it.

"This one is perfectly fine," you promised as you pulled into the parking garage at the airport. 

He shot you a playfully unamused look as he unfolded his legs to climb out of the car and start gathering the luggage. But the look of displeasure was no longer playful as you followed him into the airport. 

"Our flight's delayed," he said with a sigh as he looked up at the departures screen. 

"No!" you groaned. "I'll text my parents and let them know while you check the bags."

But as soon as you hit send and watched your suitcase disappear from view, you noticed that your flight had been cancelled. 

"Bradley!" you called, pointing to the screen as he walked back over to you.

"Oh, fuck," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Stay here, Baby Girl." He turned back toward the airline agent while you called your parents. 

------------------------------

Bradley managed to sweet talk a new itinerary out of the young woman who worked for the airline. And he wasn't necessarily proud of himself. 

"Hi, Ava. That's such a pretty name," he said with a smile, watching her blush a bright shade of pink. "Is there anything you can do for me about this flight to Baltimore?"

She looked flustered now as she checked her computer screen. "There aren't that many options. This is because of all the snowstorms in the middle of the country, sir."

"You can call me Bradley."

"Bradley," she said with a smile. "I could reroute you to Denver first and then Atlanta and then into Baltimore?"

"That would be great," he said smoothly. "Anything you can do to make Maryland happen." He glanced over his shoulder to where you were talking on the phone and pacing around. The line behind him had started to grow with people dealing with cancelled flights, so he knew he needed to rebook these seats while he still could. 

"I would be happy to do that for you, Bradley," she replied with a grin. "Oh, you have two seats under your reservation?"

"Yes," he told her as he watched you pace away again with your phone pressed to your ear. "For my wife and I."

"Oh," she said with a sigh before printing him out new boarding passes and handing them to him without another word.

"Thanks, Ava. Happy holidays."

Bradley rushed over to you and laced his fingers with yours. "Let's go. Only have a few minutes to get on our flight to Denver."

You sputtered but started to walk briskly along with him, smiling up at him as you spoke into your phone. "Dad, Bradley got us on a new flight! I'll call you back, okay?"

"Come on," he urged, and then you and he were rushing toward security before it started to get crowded. 

"How did you do that?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his waist as you waited in line for your turn. 

He kissed your forehead and whispered, "You don't want to know."

But you just laughed and nuzzled your face against his neck. "You either threatened someone or flirted with someone. Either way, good work, Roo."

"Honestly... the things I do for you."

When the two of you were the last passengers to board the flight to Denver before they closed the gate, you looked at him in surprise and went all the way back to your seats in the last row. "That was close," you whispered, taking the middle seat and snuggling up against his shoulder. 

"I just hope our luggage gets there," he replied. 

But soon enough, that was the least of his concerns. Because halfway through the flight, he was jolted awake by an announcement. 

"This is your captain speaking. Because of weather related issues in Colorado, we will be rerouting to Dallas/Fort Worth."

"Shit," Bradley hissed as you and he shared a look of annoyance. "It's okay. We'll figure it out."

"Get ready to start flirting some more," you mumbled, taking his hand in yours. 

When you and he deboarded in Texas, the entire airport appeared to be packed wall to wall with people. The flight announcement boards were all flashing with DELAYED or CANCELLED. 

"What should we do?" you asked, but he was already calling the airline. 

"Get ready to start sweet talking, Baby Girl," he told you. "It might take both of us."

"But that's your specialty," you said with a sigh. "I'll go search for something to eat, you stay here on the phone." Bradley kissed you before you wandered off through the crowds. He was tired. He knew you must be as well. But the most important thing was getting you to Maryland to spend the holiday with your parents. They were the only close family either of you had. 

After talking to three different people on the phone, Bradley managed to get two middle seats on a flight to Memphis. He reasoned that at least you'd be heading in the right direction, as most eastbound flights were being cancelled for snow. 

When you eventually returned with two coffees and a bag with sandwiches and snacks, he waved you over to the single seat he claimed. "Come here," he told you, patting his thigh so you had somewhere to sit. "We're going to Memphis, but we have a bit of a wait."

As soon as you were in his lap, he felt better. And when you handed him a sandwich, he felt great. "That's all they had left," you told him as you opened a bag of chips.

"It's perfect," he told you as he finished it in four bites. "You know there's a house for sale two streets behind ours, right? Get your parents to move there. It would be easier than this shit."

You sipped your coffee and then smiled at him. "You think my mom hasn't mentioned that to me already? She checks the San Diego real estate listings online all the time."

"Huh," Bradley said. He had been half joking, but he didn't hate the idea of having your parents nearby, in or around San Diego. It would certainly cut down on this kind of stress. And he could tell that you were getting antsy now as your eyes kept looking up over his head to see which flights had been cancelled. 

"There's an elderly man standing over there," Bradley told you, patting your hip. "Why don't you go tell him he can sit here, and we can walk around instead."

"Okay," you replied, and Bradley watched as you walked up and introduced yourself to the older man with a cane and hearing aids. When you helped him make his way over to the seat, Bradley stood so he could sit down.

"Are you alone, Marvin?" you asked, letting him hold your hand until he was settled down into the seat.

"No, my daughter is with me. She went to wait in line for food a while ago. We're trying to go to San Diego."

You laughed and dug around in your bag. "Figures. We just left San Diego. And you can have the other half of my sandwich while you wait for her. The food lines are getting outrageously long."

"Thank you," he mumbled, taking the wrapped up sandwich and turning to Bradley. "Your wife is very sweet."

Bradley nodded at him and said, "She's everything," earning a brilliant smile from you in the process. "Happy holidays, Marvin."

---------------------------

You fell asleep in the Dallas/Fort Worth airport while you were standing up in Bradley's arms. It wasn't a very good nap, but you didn't get to sleep at all on the flight to Memphis which was filled with irate travelers and miserable children. You shoved your headphones in to avoid listening to the woman next to you complaining. This flight had been delayed several times, and you were happy to just be in the air again.

Bradley was a few rows in front of you, in between two people who did not look happy to have someone so tall between them. But he occasionally turned around to smile at you, and you mouthed I love you to him each time.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," you gasped when you arrived in Memphis late on Christmas Eve only to find that all outbound flights had been grounded for the night. You felt the panic rise up inside you. "We were supposed to arrive in Baltimore yesterday," you said softly as Bradley wrapped his arms around you. 

"It's okay," he said calmly. "It's late, but let's just text your dad and let them know where we are."

"We don't even have another flight booked, Bradley. We are going to have to spend Christmas in the Memphis airport." You could feel tears in your eyes, and you felt ridiculous as one of them fell to your cheek. "It's our first holiday married."

"I know, Sweetheart," he said as he wiped your tears away. But he was already on the phone again as he pointed you to an empty seat across the walkway. "I'll take care of it."

You carried your bag to the lone empty seat and plopped down while you sent a text. Your stomach was growling loudly, but there was nothing around except for shitty vending machines. Your phone rang as your dad called you, and you answered with a sob.

"Hi, dad."

"You're in Memphis now?"

"Yeah. It's almost midnight here. Merry Christmas," you told him softly. 

"Listen, when you get here, you get here. Just be safe, and call when you're in Baltimore, okay? We're only thirty minutes from the airport, so whenever you land, I'll leave to come get you."

"Okay," you said, already crying again. "I love you."

When Bradley walked over and scooped you up out of the seat, he looked pleasantly happy. "Why are you smiling so much?" you asked as he settled down with you curled up on his lap. 

"Because I have all good news, Baby Girl."

"Okay. Spill."

He kissed your temple and said, "We have a flight to Raleigh that leaves at noon. And we have some sort of rental car waiting for us there. And then it's just a five hour drive to your parents' house. I also got us some Doritos to enjoy together along with a Wild Cherry Pepsi."

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Was the vending machine almost empty?"

"Sure was. There were zero options, but I'm fucking starving."

"Thanks for taking care of everything," you whispered as he fed you a chip. "You're wonderful."

"I'm only wonderful because of you," he replied, kissing your nose. "Now eat your fancy Christmas Eve dinner and try to get some sleep."

-----------------------------

Bradley held you in his lap all night as you dozed on and off. His left leg was asleep, and he hadn't been able to relax enough to get a nap, but that was fine. It was noisy here, even at two in the morning. This somehow reminded him of his first time on an aircraft carrier; he was dying to sleep but just couldn't. But he didn't have anything as nice as you in his life when he experienced that twelve years ago. 

You sighed and pressed your lips to his neck as you slept, and he closed his eyes, memorizing how fucking good this felt. He was sure you'd disagree. The two of you were smashed between two families who were also trying to get a little rest, and there was an announcement going over the intercom. It was a little chilly in here, and Bradley was hungry enough to eat those nasty unsalted pretzels you liked so much. This wasn't the nicest way to spend Christmas morning. Not when you'd been expecting to be with your mom and dad.

But Bradley was so happy. You and he were married. You were together. He wasn't deployed. And you had your left hand planted against his chest where he could look at the rings he had given you. This was great. He'd be happy to do this every year with you.

You stretched and arched your back, and Bradley was finally able to shift his left leg to try to alleviate the sensation of pins and needles. "I had a dream," you whispered, "that Tramp ate Penny's turkey off the kitchen counter and they said they were never going to dogsit for us again."

Bradley laughed as he held you tight and kissed your hair. "Nah, he'll be a saint for Amelia. She takes him on a beach walk every day when he's there."

"That's true," you whispered before kissing his lips. "I'm sorry I've been cranky, Roo."

"Don't apologize," he said softly as you switched to sit on his right thigh. "This is not ideal."

"I know," you agreed, running your fingers along his mustache and his scarred cheek. "But we're together. Merry Christmas."

He pulled you close so your forehead rested against his. "I thought up a fun idea. Wanna hear it?"

"Yes."

He smiled and told you, "Let's walk around to all the vending machines and see what we can find. It'll be like opening presents together next to the tree at your parents' house."

Your laughter was so loud, you had to cover your mouth as you nodded. "Sounds so fun. Let's go."

The two of you scoured every corner of each of the terminals in the Memphis airport together until you had located eight different vending machines. Bradley watched you jump up and down when you found a bag of unsalted pretzels. "I love these things!" you said biting into one and then feeding him the rest of it. 

"We got some good shit, Baby Girl." Then you and he sat side by side and ate everything as you watched a light snow falling outside. When Bradley finished drinking a bottle of ginger ale, he said, "If we have to sleep here again, those benches over in Terminal A looked classy as hell."

You nodded as you finished a bag of popcorn. "Just like our bed at home."

"You know it," he said, kissing your cheek before he stood to throw away all of the trash. Then he heard an announcement for your flight to Raleigh to start boarding, and he pulled you up to your feet. "Let's get out of here while he still can."

He carried your bag for you, and with a little luck, this flight actually took off on time. And Bradley fell asleep on your shoulder while you ran your fingers softly through his hair.

-----------------------------

"I love it!" you shouted in the freezing cold rental car lot in Raleigh. "It's just like my car!"

Bradley groaned and tossed your bag onto the backseat. "Every time we get a rental car, we just get the newest model year of your little shit mobile!"

"It's even red!" you said, laughing right at him. "I'll drive. I'm going to like it so much, I'll just get a new one to replace my car when it dies in like ten more years."

"No," he said. "I'll drive. I don't want you getting any ideas." He steered you around to the passenger side door and opened it for you before he buckled you in. Every time you tried to complain, he kissed your lips until you were sighing and digging your fingers into his hair. 

"Are you trying to get me to fuck you in the backseat or something?" you whispered against his lips before he stood and looked down at you in the passenger seat.

"First of all, no, I'm trying to get us to your parents' house. And second, no, because we wouldn't both fit. I don't even think you could get a car seat back there," he said with a pointed look before he closed the door and walked around to the driver's seat.

"A car seat," you muttered as you adjusted the radio to play some Christmas music as he pulled out onto the road.

"You heard me, Baby Girl."

You were hopeful. You really were, but you were trying not to dwell on it, at least not today. Bradley drove for a few hours into the dim evening dusk, and you offered so many times to switch seats with him. But he just kept telling you to feed him some of the vending machine snacks and keep the Christmas music playing. 

When you texted your parents to let them know what was going on, you knew they would be waiting for you. But they really went above and beyond. You texted them when you were about twenty minutes away, and when Bradley pulled the little red car into the driveway at eight at night, they came running outside. 

"You must both be so hungry!" your mom said, rubbing her hands together, brow pinched with stress. "Dinner is ready. I just took it all out of the oven."

"You didn't have to wait for us to eat," Bradley told her as she hugged him. 

"Nonsense! We'd wait until tomorrow if we needed to!" she told him before kissing both of your cheeks. "Now get inside, it's freezing."

---------------------------

Bradley managed to sneak into the bathroom and into the shower with you around midnight. The four of you had enjoyed one of the best dinners he could ever remember eating. Then your parents had spoiled the two of you with gifts, including a new bed for Tramp. And now you and he were about to change into some borrowed pajamas after finally getting showered.

"I really hope our luggage shows up back at home at some point," you said as you removed Bradley's shirt. 

"It will," he said, helping you strip down and climb under the stream of steamy water. Both of you groaned in pleasure and then laughed. 

"I already feel so much better," you muttered as he started washing your body, paying extra attention to your breasts. 

"Wash my hair?" he asked you, flashing his big, brown eyes. 

"Always," you promised, and he melted into your touch. "You know, Roo, this day was actually kind of fun. The vending machine Christmas gifts, and the rental car sing along. And then finally getting to eat dinner."

"It was perfect," he told you.

You laughed. "Well, that might be a stretch, but I think-"

"It was perfect," he insisted. "I spent my day with you. And we got to see your parents. That was all I was really hoping for. But on top of that, you're my wife. And marrying you has been the best thing that happened to me this year. So today was perfect."

Bradley could tell even as the shower spray wet your face that you were starting to cry. "I love you."

"I love you, too. And even though we only get to spend one day with your parents before flying back to San Diego, I wouldn't change being with you for anything else." 

The two of you were wrapped up in towels and stumbling out of the bathroom, laughing quietly together when you almost bumped right into your mom.

"I thought you were in bed!" you told her, holding your towel in place, and Bradley had never felt as naked as he did with this damp towel around his waist. 

"Your dad needed his blood pressure medication from the kitchen," she replied with a smirk on her face. "Why are you looking at me like that? You're married. I know you two are having sex."

"Oh, god," you groaned, leaning back against Bradley, covering your eyes. 

"We didn't..." he started. "Not in the bathroom..." he added. "Good night!" he said, slipping past you into the room you and he were going to be sharing. And when he looked back at you and your mom before he closed the door, you looked scandalized. 

He laughed quietly to himself as he pulled on the random assortment of clothing your dad was letting him wear since the luggage was currently lost. When you came in a few minutes later, still in your wet towel, he was laying in bed waiting for you. 

"You bailed on me!" you hissed, tossing the towel at him and standing there naked. "We made wedding vows, Bradley!"

He caught the towel and tossed it onto the floor as he reached his hands out for you. "Why don't you come over here, and I'll make everything better?"

You climbed into bed next to him, and he wrapped his arms around you to keep you warm. "Roo, she asked me if you and I are having unprotected sex." Bradley snorted as you groaned. "She wants to know if you're giving me creampies, because she wants grandchildren!"

Bradley burst out laughing. "She actually said that?"

"Not those exact words, but you know what I mean!"

"Well, Merry Christmas, mom," he said softly while he tried to contain his laughter. "We're working on it."

You buried your head under the pillow, and Bradley had to coax you out with some kisses. "Can I have my Christmas present now?" he asked once you were draped across his chest with your fingers in his hair and your lips on his neck.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I'm about to give it to you."

Bradley stroked his fingers along your cheek so that you were looking at him. "You already give me everything, Baby Girl. You know that, right?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded. "Me and you."

"I love it," he promised as your lips met his again.

-------------------------

"Okay, so this has kind of been a disaster," you told Bradley as you finally boarded your delayed flight back to San Diego the next night. "But also, I sort of loved this?"

"Best Christmas ever," he whispered, slipping into the seat next to yours and grabbing both ends of your seatbelt. Then he snapped them closed and tightened the strap, just like he always did. He even always buckled you in the Bronco. You were so used to all these little things now. You just looked at him for a few moments, and he looked back as a smile found his lips. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Well, I learned a lot about you over the past few days," you told him as the flight attendants closed the overhead compartments. 

"And?" he prompted, linking his fingers with yours. 

"I think you might be perfect," you informed him seriously. "You took care of everything in all the airports so I didn't have to worry. You made sure that sweet, old man had somewhere to sit."

"Marvin," Bradley interjected. 

"Yes, Marvin. You held me while I napped. You made sure we ate. You played vending machine Christmas gift roulette with me. You drove the rental car. You made my parents happy. And, plus, you keep doing all the little things that you always do. Like hold my hand the perfect way so my wrist doesn't hurt, and buckle my seatbelt for me. You're perfect."

He looked at you. "You take care of me all the time, Sweetheart. I like taking care of you, too. That's just... what I always do."

You nodded and snuggled against his arm as the plane took off, taking you home to San Diego. "Keep on doing it, Roo. Please." 

"I'm planning on it, Baby Girl."

---------------------------

Roo takes care of BG, and BG takes care of Roo. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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[neon-junkie]

Fractured

Summary: Tech's recent injury has led him to your Medical Bay, and despite you being excellent at your job, Tech needs additional assistance with easing the pain. You have something fun in mind.

Pairing: Tech x gn!Reader

Tags: Medical assistance, Fractured bones, Medic Reader, Friends to lovers, Oral (giving,) Handjobs, Size kink, Cock worship, Large cocks, Flirting, Pain relief.

Word count: 5.1k

Notes: This is set after Episode 1&2 of Season 2. I actually started writing this back when those episodes aired, but then… depression… lol I have never broken/fractured a bone before (alpha genes,) so I have no idea what actually goes on when you break one lol. I did my research, but… IDK, this is probs off, but you're not here for the medical side of things, are you? Also, I like the idea of nerds with big dicks. I don't really care about size IRL, but Tech with an absolute unit of a cock? Yeah, sign me the fuck up!!!

"You got squished like a bug."

"I did not-" Tech cuts himself off. "Like a bug? Please, restrain yourself from making such comedic remarks about my pain and suffering."

With that, Tech lets out a grunt, and you're unsure if it's at your remark, or an outlet from the pain that he's currently in.

Tech was squished like a bug during the last mission. Splat! As you so put it, after Tech explained what exactly happened in that war chest. The force of a thousand suns flattened his poor leg, and his thigh soaked up most of the damage.

That's what he gets for not wearing thigh armour.

That comment didn't go down well, either. However, Tech should know by now that your wit and sarcasm will never fail you. You have, after all, been running with the Batch long before the Clone Wars fizzled out into… whatever this is, The Galactic Empire, and those who opposite it.

If only Hunter would allow you and the others to join the fight…

Back onto the topic. Tech was carried into the Marauder's medical wing, with Echo's assistance, and left on the medical bed for you to check him over. He was hissing and wincing as he pushed himself up onto the table, his hands flexing whilst he gripped onto his thigh, and pleading eyes met yours as he began going over the series of events.

You were stationed with Hunter and Wrecker, seeing as Wrecker is your loyalist customer when it comes to injuries, only Tech has taken you by surprise!

"It's definitely fractured," you state as you dig through your medical kit, finding something exciting to dial down the pain. Tech has stated that he'd prefer to remain awake, which is understandable, seeing as you won't be stitching him up, or worse, cutting him open.

"I assume I'll have to lounge around with a cast on for the next six weeks?" Tech questions, his eyes watching you as you read over a few labels, deciding which drugs to supply.

"Minimum," you say with a soft nod, half-focused on his words. "These will do," you decide, holding the pill bottle in one hand, whilst the other shuts your medical box.

You turn to face Tech, and with a nonchalant expression, you order, "take off your pants."

Tech's eyes blink wide beneath his goggles, and he lets out a sheepish cough before asking, "pardon?"

"I can't do an X-ray with your pants still on, and do you really want your cast applied over those jeans?" you point to his new pants - casual, straight jeans, which surely can't be comfortable to work in?

Forgive him. It's his first time out in the Galaxy, and a newly freed man is bound to make poor decisions. Live and learn, Tech…

"Oh," Tech mutters. "Understood."

You hand him the pill bottle first, along with a glass of water, and give Tech a strict order to take his drugs before stripping off. "I'll give you some privacy, call for me when you're ready," you inform, and leave the medical wing, the door swishing shut behind you.

Sure, you've seen Tech in all sorts of states, almost naked that one time, back when you were new. Wrecker had found it hilarious to fiddle with the refresher's water supply as Tech went to take a shower, and poor Tech, who was rather reserved when first meeting you, had to leave the refresher with only a towel around his waist. He had barked at Wrecker to, "leave the hot water supply alone! Are you attempting to impress our newest member? Or perhaps, make a fool of me? Both? Do you find this amusing?!" blah blah blah…

-

Minutes have passed, and you overhear Tech calling out, "you may come in."

The door swishes open, and you're greeted by Tech in the same position on the medical bed, relaxing back against the headboard. An untidy pile of armour and clothing has appeared on the floor, not that he has the ability to neatly organise them.

Tech remains in just his turtleneck under armour, his fingertips currently running along the neckline, picking at its tightness. He's wearing a standard pair of briefs, nothing enticing, and the hemline thankfully stops above the X-ray zone. Great! You don't fancy having to order Tech to remove those as they're in the way…

As for the last item of clothing, they're-

"Tech," you speak with firmness. "Are those my socks?"

Tech stops picking at his neckline to gawk down at his feet. His wiggles his toes mindlessly as he sheepishly mumbles, "it appears they are."

"Is that so?" you repeat with a raised brow.

Tech's pleading eyes come out again as he meets your gaze. "I could not find a pair of my own this morning, and seeing as we were in a rush, I opted for the next best thing."

Your eyes trail from his to look at your socks once more, the little tookas on them smiling at you. They're fuzzy, warm and snuggly, and not the sort of item that you ever thought you'd see on Tech.

Omega? Perhaps.

Wrecker? Definitely.

But Tech?

"The next best thing," you repeat his words again. "I'm surprised that you picked the tookas over the voorpaks."

Tech scoffs. "Tookas are the obvious choice. Whilst voorpaks may be pleasing to the eye, they're needy, with no consideration for personal space. Tookas, on the other hand, are far more independent animals, with a…" Tech shuts his mouth, and nervously licks his lips before asking, "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

"A sign that the drugs have kicked in," you say with a shrug. "Time to X-ray!"

Tech lets out a defeated sigh, and watches as you set up the X-ray machine. It's a numbing and dull task, but needed, seeing as such a smart man has managed to get himself injured.

The X-ray is taken, and you leave Tech to his own devices as you begin processing the scan at your desk. Whilst you wait for the image to form, you check on a few other things, and in the corner of your eye, you notice how Tech fails to sit still.

His fingertips are running along his neckline again, attempting to find fresh air, even though his under armour has never seemed restricting before. A light glisten of sweat is sitting above his brow, and whenever Tech's hands stray from his neckline, they rest directly on his lap. His fingertips begin fidgeting with the hem of his briefs, only for his eyes to meet yours, and his hands to fall motionless.

"Are you alright?" you question.

"F-fine," Tech mutters. "Just awaiting the results."

With that, the scan is processed, and you hum to yourself as you study it. Tech doesn't look away from you; he studies your reaction, and his shoulders drop with relief as yours do. "It's not as bad as I thought," you state as you rise from your desk. "I'll apply a cast, and unfortunately for you, you'll be bound to the Marauder for the next few weeks."

"Charming," Tech huffs.

You put together a bowl of warm soapy water, and hand it over to Tech, along with a towel. "Give your thigh a good scrub. It'll be the last time it's cleaned until the cast can come off."

Tech follows your orders, and leaves you to begin putting the cast supplies together. He's letting out soft grumbles as he scrubs himself down, not applying much pressure, seeing as bruises have already begun forming.

Within minutes, you're ready, and Tech is attempting to dry his thigh. The bowl of water is discarded, and you softly mutter, "here," as you take the towel from him. "Let me help."

With your order, Tech slowly bends his leg, raising his knee high enough so that you can gently dry the underside of his thigh - a task that he was struggling to do alone. He's still wincing as you dab over the area, but nowhere near as much as he was when tending to himself. It seems you're light on your touch, and Tech is silently thankful for it.

"Keep your leg bent like that," you instruct as you dispose of the towel, and bring your cast supplies over to the workbench.

You gently run your palm over Tech's thigh, questioning if his skin is dry enough to begin the application, and only now do you realise the predicament that you're in.

You're no stranger to Tech's good looks - impeccable cheekbones, a toned chest, nimble fingers, adorable doe eyes, and a hairline so sharp that it can slice through beskar - but the issue is purely that, his good looks. You're attempting to work, and the sensation of your fingertips dancing through the light hair on his tanned thighs is causing quite the distraction.

You scoot your stool over to the medical bed, and adjust the height. Once seated, you let out a deep sigh before beginning your work, attempting to keep your eyes on his forming bruises, rather than allowing it to wander… higher…

Tech looks down at you, quite literally, watching through his tinted goggles as you begin binding his leg, paying special attention to any signs of discomfort - not that he shows any. His fingertips are subconsciously entwining with each other, fidgeting, and attempting to cover up his briefs out of politeness. It's not that you've never seen Tech, or any of the boys in their undies before, but your face is less than half a meter from his crotch, and you're both well aware.

A huff flows from your lips as you fix the soft material in place, the easy part over and done with. Now, it's time to wet the plaster, and apply it one strip at a time - a lengthy process, seeing as you have to wait for each layer to dry before continuing.

As time goes on, you both seem to relax, becoming accustomed to your new-found closeness. Tech even strikes up a light conversation, filling you in on his side of the mission, and speaking highly about the civilian that he met on the way.

"He called me Ace," Tech informs you, "not that I had any issue with it. I found the nickname rather appealing."

Your eyes trail up to meet his, and a soft laugh slips from your lips as you repeat, "Ace?"

"I think it suits me," Tech says with a shrug. "Besides…"

His words continue, shifting into comforting background noise as you do your job. At least Tech is comfortable with you; when you first met, he'd only ever correct you, or information dump on you. Now, you can hold a conversation, seeing as you managed to win him over after correcting him on a minor detail a few weeks into being stationed with the Batch.

The more Tech mutters, the more his form relaxes. His hands move from his lap to adjust his goggles, not that they probably need it, and you can't help but notice something in the corner of your eye.

In hindsight, this was your fault. You shouldn't have looked. You should have kept your focus on your work, and prevented your eyes from prying at Tech's crotch. He is, after all, a grown man sitting in his underwear, with a pretty Medic rubbing their hands along his bare thigh. Tech is a soldier, and it's a known fact that soldiers don't have much leisure time, let alone spare time to do… stuff.

Your lips fall apart, and every circuit in your brain fries within an instant. Your hands, wet and covered in plaster, come to a halt in the middle of a wrap, and all you can focus on is… that.

Tech, after adjusting his goggles, instantly falls silent as he notices that you've come to a halt. He calls out your name, and despite his exceptional mind, it takes him a few moments to realise what's caused you to stop like a deer in the headlights.

"Oh," Tech sheepishly sighs as he puts two and two together. "I…" he stutters, but words fail him. So, thinking on his feet (and fractured leg) he returns his hands to his lap, covering up the issue.

Only now do you realise that you're a karking idiot. Seriously, why did you have to stare?! Why couldn't you have turned away, blushed, and continued working?

You go to apologise, but Tech beats you to it. "I apologise… It's… It's not intentional-" he sputters.

You let out a soft sigh, and shake your head in an attempt to slap some sense into your dense brain. "Tech," you mumble his name, and after blinking heavily, you look up at him.

Tech, with cheeks so bright that they outshine the suns, fails to make eye contact. He's breathing deeply, and mentally questioning if it's possible for him to run away from his problems, even with a half-finished, wet cast around his thigh.

Instead, Tech defends himself even more, seeing as the first option isn't doable. "I have been attempting to control myself this entire time, but it seems my-"

"-Tech," you call out to him again.

Tech finally meets your gaze, but only for a moment. He can't maintain eye contact, he simply can't, that is, until you state something that has his mind spinning in confusion.

"You're huge."

"P-pardon?" Tech sputters, followed by coughing into the back of his hand. That is not what he was expecting to fall from your lips.

You wave your hands defensively, droplets of plaster falling onto the medical bed. "I mean, it's alright, you can't help it," you sputter. Now, you're the one struggling to maintain eye contact, your mind fogging up, clouded with one simple thought.

"Can't help what?" Tech questions. "My erection? Or my size?"

A timid laugh flows from your lips, "I meant your erection, but both, I guess…"

Tech laughs with you, although it's clear that he's nervous. Whatever this is - intimacy, of some form - is new. You're no stranger to light flirting with your boys, and often receiving it in return, but holy Maker. Tech is rock solid, and there is no denying that you're the cause of it; the evidence is right there!

"Well…" Tech's words fall flat, and after adjusting his goggles, he gears up again. Rather than sit in silence, mutually starstruck over the unit sitting in Tech's pants, Tech decides to ramble as much as humanly possible. "…I have chalked my size up as a side effect from my enhancements. There are multiple documented cases that the standard clones all share the same erection size. I am, however, beyond those standards."

"Wait-" you cut him short with a soft laugh. "-There are documented cases of what?"

Tech lets out a chuckle, and shakes his head in awe that he's having to bring this information to light. "It's no secret that we clones have had intimate relationships, and some partners like to… how should I say it? Discuss their experiences with others on the holonet."

You repeat Tech's motions, softly laughing and shaking your head, amazed over this new information. "You mean, people like to jump on the holonet and discuss which Troopers kriff the best?"

"That is one way of putting it, yes."

"Dank farrik," you laugh. You mean, the information that you've been curious about this entire time, has been on the holonet at your disposal? Idiot! Why didn't you simply search for it?

There's no denying that you're attracted to both your squad, and their regular brothers, and as always, curiosity wanders… At least some beings were smart enough to post their findings on the net, along with… whatever else might be on there. You make a mental note to check it out later!

"What were you doing on those sites?" you question, and decide to start working again, seeing as the plaster is slowly drying on your fingertips.

To your surprise, Tech's emotions remain calm as he mindlessly replies, "I was researching my… ahem, abnormality."

"I see…" you conclude. Curious for more, you take a gamble, and up your flirting game. "Has anybody started a thread for Clone Force 99?" you say with a soft purr, causing Tech's ears to perk up as blush begins to form across his cheeks.

"I…" Tech stutters. "Not that I am aware of, no," he says with a nervous chuckle.

Still with wet plaster on your hands, you put on a cheeky grin as you ask, "we could fill in the blank."

Your name comes stumbling out of Tech's mouth as all the heat in his body rises to his cheeks. "You cannot be serious!" He sweats, refusing to maintain eye contact. Nervous hands fiddle with the hemline of his shirt, wringing the fabric tightly in his bare palms, all whilst still attempting to cover up the topic in the room.

"I am," you say with a shrug. "I mean, I've just about seen yours," you gesture to his erection, hidden behind a thin layer of fabric, yet bold enough to make your imagination dance.

"M-Maker," Tech stutters once more. "Where are those pills?"

You laugh as Tech fumbles about with the pill bottle at his side, sliding another one out into the palm of his hand. He doesn't even bother swigging it down with water, dry swallowing the pill like an absolute mad man. "You do know those pills are to ease your pain, right?" you state whilst wrapping another layer around his leg.

"I am certainly in some form of pain. Although I am unsure of the exact type," he sighs, and finally takes a sip of water, correcting his prior mistake.

Biting back a laugh, you suggest, "painfully hard?"

Tech lets out a long and frustrated sigh, meeting your gaze as his shoulders drop in disappointment. "Hilarious," he sarcastically replies, pinching his brow in annoyance.

With a smirk on your lips, you boldly look down at his erection. "It sure seems like you are," you comment, then continue your focus on applying his cast, nearing the end. "You know, sexual pleasure can help ease the pain, and act as a good distraction," you hint, bringing the fact to light. If Tech wants more, then this is his opportunity to take it.

"As delightful as that sounds, penetration would be near impossible in my current state," he gestures to his leg, as if it couldn't be any more obvious.

"There are things that you can do besides penetration, Tech."

Whilst watching you apply the final layer, Tech moves a hand up, fingertips meeting his chin. His brows are furrowed, a sign that he's in deep thought. "You are correct," he hums, before crossing his arms across his chest. "Although I have to question if partaking in such an act will adjust our friendship, and our status within this squad."

"Only if you want it to," you respond, and begin cleaning up, allowing Tech's new cast to dry. "The way I see it, I'm just helping a friend out."

"Well, when you put it like that…" Tech ponders, shifting into deep thought.

Silence fills the air, and yet, you can practically hear Tech's brain ticking away. He's panning everything together, questioning every minor detail, move, motive. Sure, you are helping him out, but wouldn't this lead to other things? Would either of you catch feelings? Have you already caught feelings?

Tech's eyes flick between the pill bottle, and you. He studies you, letting out a soft hum as you tidy up, putting all your equipment away after washing your hands. "I can feel your gaze on me, Tech," you comment, not bothering to look up from your current task.

"Sorry," Tech exhales. "You do have a valid point. This… sexual favour would indeed assist in relieving my pain, yet I cannot accept such a gesture without reciprocating it."

"Let's say that you owe me one, and I can redeem it whenever I see fit," you suggest. You perch yourself on the edge of the medical bed, your form resting against Tech's undamaged thigh. Gently, you tap your fingertips on his cast, testing to see if the material has dried through. "You're all set. So, what do you say?" you offer with a raised brow.

Tech firmly shakes his head in agreement, "I accept your assistance."

"Great," you purr. Your hand comes to rest on his chest, instantly making the man beneath your palm nervous, and he doesn't bother to hide it. "But what do you want me to do, Tech?" you ask, drumming your fingertips against him.

Licking his lips, Tech's eyes wander down to where your hand is resting, before coming up to meet your alluring gaze. "Perhaps you… could possibly…"

"Spit it out," you tut.

"Just… touch me," Tech finally manages to spit his demands out, all whilst looking like he's about to faint. "Your hand alone will be more than suffice," he adds in an apologetic tone, as if he's embarrassed about what has just slipped from his lips.

Eager to see him burst, you ask, "do you want my mouth too?"

"Oh stars."

Tech, the most calm, calculated, and captivating man that you've ever met, is currently turning into putty beneath your fingertips. You've not even touched him, well, at least not in that way, and he looks like he's about to ejaculate at any moment! Maybe it's the pain relief pills that he's taken, or maybe it's because he has a secret crush on you. The answer, you'll never know. All you can do is work with what you've got - a whimpering mess of a man.

"You don't have to answer that yet. Let's just start with my hand," you answer for him. Tech watches through his thick lenses as the hand on his chest begins to trail south, over his lower ribs, across his soft stomach, and now meeting his hips.

Gently, you rest your hand atop of his erection, and Tech just about moans at the minor contact. "I apologise," he sputters, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.

"Don't apologise, I want you to be vocal," you coo. "Well, maybe keep it down a bit, unless you want the others over-hearing?"

Tech shakes his head, then returns his eyes to watching the action. Your strokes are gentle, yet firm, the complete opposite of Tech's rising chest. Is he a virgin? Or has it been a while? Either way, you begin matching his pathetic state once his briefs are adjusted, and Tech's cock is finally free.

"Kriff," you whimper, eyeing up Tech in all his glory. Maker, you weren't expecting such a slender man to be packing so much heat! Sure, it looked rather large when hidden behind his briefs, but now it's here, throbbing in your hand.

You begin pumping his length, slow at first, until finding your rhythm. All the while, Tech is a panting mess, his gaze flicking between your expression, and what's happening between his legs. He all about caves when you slowly trail a blob of spit down onto his tip, lubricating his cock as you continue jerking it.

"This is going to be the death of me," Tech pants. His head rolls back to rest on the headboard, whilst his hands come up to hide his face. He groans into his palms, the odd muscle in his body twitching as pleasure washes through him. When Tech finally does remove his hands from his face, his goggles are on a slight tilt, and surprisingly, he doesn't bother fixing them.

"Oh?" you say with a quirked brow. "I can make things much worse."

"Do enlighten me," Tech suggests, gazing at you through half-lidded eyes.

"How about I show you instead?"

All Tech can do is nod eagerly, yet he fails to prepare himself for what's about to come. (Or who's about to come.)

It's an awkward position, but after readjusting yourself to lie on your side, you manage to make do. Tech's eyes widen as you move your mouth closer to his cock, soon introducing your tongue to the tip. He moans your name, followed by a painful wince.

"Stop putting pressure on your thigh," you look up at him, cock in hand. "That defeats the purpose of my assistance."

In hindsight, you should have propped a pillow beneath his ankle, but something was preventing you from thinking rationally!

Tech mumbles a, "sorry," whilst looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what he wants, and who are you to deny it? You continue introducing your tongue to his tip, his shoulders instantly relaxing at the minor contact.

You soon find yourself sucking the tip, your hand working magic on the rest of his shaft. Already, there's an ache in your jaw, and you silently question how you're going to make this fit… No matter, you'll do what you can, and all efforts seem to be highly appreciated by Tech, who is reaching the state of debauchery as every second passes.

Through the chaos of spit and slobber, a tender hand comes out to rest on the back of your head. The other one finds your free hand, and Tech makes an effort to entwining his fingers with yours. You vocalise your appreciation to his gentle gesture by humming, only that causes Tech to stir. The sensation of vibrations running along his cock earns you another series of pathetic whimpers, and you, being the mischievous devil that you are, decide to only make things harder for him.

Slipping his cock from your lips, you continue pumping the shaft whilst your mouth wanders south. You slip one of his balls in your mouth, gently sucking on it. Tech's mind quite literally explodes! The hand on the back of your head grabs a fistful of your hair, although he is careful as to not hurt you. His other hand, however, removes itself from your palm to grip on the edge of the bed, a desperate attempt at steadying himself.

"Easy boy," you coo, before focusing on his other testicle.

"I c-can't…" Tech sputters. "I cannot hold on any longer, please," he whimpers, begging for what?

"Tell me what you need," you instruct.

"T-To finish… inside your mouth, if you'd be s-so kind," Tech blurts out, his thigh muscles twitching with want. So much for helping ease his pain, hm?

Removing your mouth from him, you peer up to meet his gaze. Tech's hair is askew, loose strands hanging forwards against his flushed face. Desperation is clear in his eyes, although it's laced with warmth and admiration. Tech was right, you two aren't just going to be friends after this, and quite honestly, you're fine with that.

"How can I ever deny you?" you flirt, earning a sigh from Tech. That sigh shifts into a moan as you slip your lips over his tip, and work your mouth to its limit.

Your name is on repeat, drifting from Tech's lips like a prayer. In the back of his mind, he's thanking this strange turn of events. If he wasn't in that war chest, then none of this would have happened, and the pain is most definitely worth it.

A few pumps of Tech's shaft, and he loses himself in the warmth of your mouth. Tech has to remove his hand from your hair to bite his knuckles, a poor attempt of silencing his final moans. The Marauder does not have soundproof walls, so you two will need to come up with a story for when you finally decide to enter the medical wing, and regroup with the Batch.

"Thank you," Tech repeats, over and over, panting as if he's just run a marathon. He looks exhausted, yet you're the one doing all the hard work!

After removing your mouth from his tip, you swallow his load, which only causes Tech to fall even deeper into admiration. "How do you feel?" you ask whilst grabbing the glass of water, left forgotten on the workbench besides the medical bed.

"Euphoric," Tech responds without missing a beat. "The pain was worth it," he adds.

"Are you still in pain?" you ask, offering him what's left of the water.

He swiftly responds, "no," before downing the rest. "You seemed to have worked wonders on me," Tech comments.

You let out a soft chuckle, and rise to your feet, eager to get out of the awkward position. After wiping your mouth dry with a towel, you assist in cleaning Tech up, not that he needs it. It's his leg that's fractured, not his cock, but you're too sweet on the poor man. "You need rest," you comment as you tuck his cock away, putting his unit to bed within the confinement of his briefs.

Tech ponders, and only now does he straighten out his wonky goggles. "I have already asked so much of you, but I have one last request."

"Let's hear it?"

"I… require some assistance with getting to my bunk," Tech sheepishly asks, earning a laugh from you.

"Of course I'll help you with that!"

It's quite the task, seeing as Tech has the upper hand when it comes to height, but you manage to help him to his feet, swinging an arm across your neck for extra stability. You turn to leave the medical wing, until something crosses your mind. Gesturing to the pain relief pills, you state, "you'll probably be needing these."

A smug grin creeps over Tech's lips. "Oh, I don't think I will," he flirts. This time, you're the one blushing, yet you agree with his statement.

Hobbling down the Marauder, Tech's cabin soon comes to your reach, and before you know it, you're helping him into bed. Thank the Maker that the others have retired for the night, hopefully none of them heard that!

After removing Tech's shirt, a pillow is placed under his ankle, providing extra comfort throughout the night. You retrieve him a glass of water, re-entering his cabin to see that he's tucked himself under the covers, his goggles lying on the bedside table.

"Do you need anything else?" you offer, soon expecting to be in your own bunk. It has been a long day, and you're oh-so-eager for your own rest.

"Actually, I was thinking…" Tech trails off, which causes you to raise your brow. "Surely you should spend the night here with me? You know, in case I require support throughout the night-"

"-I know what you're hinting at, Tech," you say with a light laugh, shaking your head at him. "You don't need an excuse, but sure, we can use that when the others ask why I'm leaving your cabin tomorrow morning."

Tech chuckles, watching eagerly as you strip down into your underwear, soon joining him in bed. You're greeted by his stretched out arm, offering you a cuddle, which you gladly accept, all whilst keeping his injury in mind.

"Goodnight, Tech," you exhale, resting your hand on his chest as your head finds its place within the curve of his neck.

"Goodnight," Tech repeats, holding you tightly.

"And remember, I owe you…"

[imrllytootiredforthis]

cy i have so many ideas its crazy 😭😭

when i was in high school i hated my chemistry classes 💀💀but now when i think about it... yk in some classrooms especially where biology and chemistry classes are held there is a small room attached to them like a storeroom? where they have all the equipment and supplies ? lmao this is already so long but i just needed to describe it, it gets better i promise

so like yesterday i randomly remembered one of my chemistry classes and suddenly i thought abt soob in those glasses like you know, the black ones ..him in a doctor's coat and..the other students are in class totally unaware of what two new teachers are doing in the storeroom😋😋damn just,, making out w him all while having ur knee between his crotch?? ordering him to be quiet or else everyone will find out what a slut their new chem teacher is (he'd secretly love it, we all know the boy is a slut for degradation and humiliation)😔he'd whimper soso much he wants more and he needs more, he's so riled up,, practically drooling but the fact that he can't have u fuck the brains out of him now makes him practically cry and beg to stop,, the pleasure is too much to handle☹️☹️(u could literally swear at him😭😭i bet he'd let out a couple of moans at that😴)

PLS THIS IS SO LONG,,,i couldn't stop myself cause begging soob>> idk whats gotten into me lately but ig i have a tiny thing for exhibitionism?😩😩no but fr its so hot?

p.s. im glaad ur here for the weekend 😭😭i'll patiently wait for ur official comeback ❣️

i saw this right when i woke up...and jesus, i love you so, so much because😵‍💫😵‍💫

are you, by chance talking abt this soob?...

him in a white lab coat😵‍💫😵‍💫

okay, okay

class started 10 minutes ago. the students are confused, checking the time, emailing their two new teachers to the class, some are even straight-up leaving, muttering about a waste of time

most stay, wondering if they just forgot or got stuff in traffic or something else

completely unaware to the fact that in the little storage closet off to the side of the room...

their pretty professor is shoved up against the wall, pinned with his arms beside his head, lip tugged between his teeth, panting and whining as he grinds down on your knee.

god, he's so needy, trying to quietly beg for more, gasping at the feeling of your teeth grazing his neck

"y'know, this isn't very professional professor choi," you start, pulling away, too composed when all he can do is let out the neediest little mewl, trying to reach his high while tears form in his eyes.

"d-don't care!" he tries to pull his hands away, cup himself and get the stimulation you're just barely giving him but your grip is iron strong, smile all too teasing and all too mean. "just m-make me feel good! please, wan', wan' you to fuck me!"

you press your thigh up against him hard. "right when all of our students are just outside, huh? want them to know that their professor is in here getting fucked like a slut?"

the moan he lets out is nothing less than completely ruined and very, very loud, reverberating through the small room in a way that would've been so hot if not where you were

his hand is free suddenly, as you slap a hand over his mouth, his eyes going wide. "shut up, you slut," you hiss,

the tears fall and you can feel drool building up behind your hand, he can't help himself, his head going on overdrive, his free hand gripping the bottom of your leg, fucking himself desperately against it.

"please, please, please," he whimpers, words garbled against your hand. "more, need more!"

[euijoosorangeslice]

Turned into the Mafias Maid (part two)

warnings: tying up, dress up, handjobs.

Your eyes slowly opened, feeling a slight burn all over your body. You looked down, noticing your hands were tied to the counter in front of you. Your legs were tied to the chair tightly, and as you looked closer there were bolts tight on the legs of your chairs. You started to struggle, grunting loudly.

You heard the door open, hard footsteps walking in. "Good morning, sweetheart." A tall, handsome man holding a tray in his hand. "Who are you? Let me the fuck out of here!" You screeched, the man giggling. "Kei. But you'll be calling me sir. And your name?" You gave him an angry look, turning your head to the side. "Y/n. Well, you seem to not be in a talking mood. Here's breakfast. Sausage, some hotcakes and some orange juice. No pulp, just how you like it, right?"

"How did you- just let me go okay! I'm sorry for whatever fucked up shit I did to land here but whatever it is I'll pay you off!"

He smirked, chuckling softly. "Sweetie, you've got less than a hundred dollars in your wallet. Sort of why your here actually. Per say, a job opportunity." You ignored him, shouting off his ear. "Oh my god you fucking creep, you went through my stuff?"

"Well, we made your bedroom just like it was before. Whenever your ready to be a a good girl we can let you free." You blushed roughly at his use of words. Being a virgin, any dirty talk (even unintentional), set you off hard. "Oh? My cutie likes being called a good girl." Fuck, you were getting quickly wet from his soft talk.

"Alright , I need you to change into this." Kei ordered, helping you out of your restraints. He handed you a bundle of clothes, a headband above it. "What the hell is that?" You cringed, Kei smirking. "This is your uniform. Change. I even brought you new panties. And don't worry, I checked your cup size." You blushed, thinking of him going through your bras and seeing your lingerie.

"Okay, get out so I can change." You mumbled, pulling off your sweater. "I have to watch you babe. Make sure you don't do anything dumb." Sighing loudly, you didn't hesitate to get undressed. Well, getting naked in front of a hot dude can't be that bad, right? You took off your bra, letting your chest free. Kei whistled, staring at your chest. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." You took off your sweats, removing your panties as well.

"Trust me, I will." He pulled his phone out snapping a photo of your naked photo. You grumbled, putting on the lace panties and bra he brought you and wearing the uniform. "Ugh, do you guys have a weird kink or something? Seriously, a maid costume?" You had gloves on your hands, wearing a headband and thigh highs.

"Don't try anything dumb, alright? Just be a good little girl." He seductively whispered, you slightly whimpering. Nicholas opened the door, seeing you in your flustered state.

"Did Kei tell you about your ahem...terms and conditions?" You ignored him, still pissed off. "Sorry about earlier. But hey, I brought you this from your apartment." You looked up. seeing a stuffed bunny. "O-oh. thanks. So what is this dumb terms and conditions or whatever?" You pulled it from his hands, caressing it's ears.

Nicholas walked you over to your new bedroom. It was a perfect replica of your bedroom, with a few more decorations. "Right, well...let's get the rest of the crew in here." "C-crew? There's more of you guys?"

Right as you said that, a group of guys came in your door. "This is y/n." You ignored his droning on, staring straight for this hot group of guys standing in front of you. You bit your lip, playing with your fingers. You were examining this short, bunny like boy in front of you. He was adorable, glasses and all. You held long eye contact with him, seeing him blush. You looked down, noticing he was growing hard. Nicholas noticed your infatuation, smiling to himself. "Harua, you really like Y/n don't you?"

Harua looked around, noticing most of the boys were staring at him. 'Oh y-yeah. Sorry! She's just really pretty." He sort of cowarded into the corner, a taller boy with silver hair pushing him out of it. "It's okay. I think Y/N could help you get a little help with your problem?" He lightly cupped Harua's crotch, making him whimper. "T-taki! Don't do that."

"Well, this could be a good learning experience for you Y/N. Can you give our pure little Harua a quick tug?" Kei teased the both of you, Harua whining. "You really don't have to do that." Harua pleaded, Nicholas rolling his eyes. "It's okay to want to be pleasured Harua. We can leave if that'll make you more comfortable?" Nicholas patted his back, heading for the door. "Wait! D-don't leave I'm just really nervous right now."

You confidently walked up to Harua, grabbing the front of his pants. "I think I can help you. I've only ever done this once before." You blushed, the room going silent. "Fuck, fine. Just, let me get off." You smiled, pulling down Harua's pants and his boxers. You grabbed his cock, slowly turning your wrists around his base. "Cute, you're uncut." You whispered, smiling softly at him. Harua looked down in your eyes, feeling his cock twitch in your hand. "Ack...please? I just want to t-to cum all over your pretty face."

Harua moaned, you smirking at him falling apart. "Do it, hm? Your just so sensitive aren't you baby." You sped up your hand, seeing precum build on his tip. "A-ah slow down! Your gonna make me-" You flinched, feeling the sticky substance hit your face. "Fuck, that was super embarrassing." He pulled up his pants, sliding back into the corner. "Wow, you really just did that in front of anyone? I have a lot of hope in the new hire."

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ik i forgot to put something but it deleted and i didn't feel like replacing it.

prev//next

[relia-robot-writes]

My Sweet

I wrote a short series of vampire fiction a while back, and given that it's spooky season it seemed prudent to bring it back - after all, I can't tell new stories without telling you the old ones. Please enjoy a high class board game cafe for bloodsuckers, a thing I truly wish existed in real life

Nessa got out of the hired car and stood, apparently, at the address she'd been invited to. "Oh, you've got to come with us to board game night," Gabby had said. "There's this great board game cafe on broad street, I'll text you the address." She had failed to mention that it was some kind of gothic castle.

Nessa supposed it wasn't that unusual - there were any number of old, unused churches in this style. Still. It had either been constructed or facaded very well with dark slate stone bricks, giving it a downright spooky look in the fading light. A pair of colorful flags fluttered in the autumn breeze outside the large oak doors, declaring that this was, in fact, the board game cafe she'd been looking for. No light issued from inside, even through what must have been the original stained glass windows.

Nessa found her mouth suddenly dry, and she swallowed nervously. She walked up the stairs, reached out her hand for the door, hesitated, then gingerly touched the handle. The door opened into a sort of coat-check waiting area, and a small bell rung. Too late to back out now. Nessa gulped again and stepped inside.

"Oh! Well, I haven't seen you around before." An elegantly-dressed woman with pale skin and flashing red eyes appeared behind the counter. "Aren't you just a delight? Welcome to the Raven's Loft. My name is Selene. This is your first time, isn't it?"

Nessa nodded, not trusting her voice in the moment. Selene's presence was... powerful. She tried to focus on something else.

"Oh, a shy one, hmm? That's all right. Let me take your coat, dear, we don't allow them in the main room, too bulky. There, that's better, isn't it?"

Nessa's cheeks felt warm. She'd worn a short red skirt and deep-cut blouse with platform boots, then chickened out and threw on the coat. Without it, she was cursing her earlier self's sudden bout of confidence.

As if she were reading Nessa's mind, Selene said, "You look lovely, dear. Now, one of my regulars told me she was hoping someone called Nessa would drop by. If that's you, then you should be able to find dear Gabrielle at table four, on the far side of the courtroom. I, unfortunately, must away to help my wife find a... wine, to pair with the desserts." With a sultry smile, Selene glided away, vanishing into the gloom behind the counter. Nessa swallowed again. Her throat felt parched.

She made her way through the double doors into a large, open room filled with people. Tapestries hung on the walls and dark colored silks hung from the ceiling, so the chatter was muted. She tugged on her skirt and looked for table number four.

"Nessa! You made it!" Gabby waved at her, smiling behind a heavy layer of gothic makeup. "I love your outfit. This is Ella and Jinx," she pointed to two more women with pale skin in gothic outfits, painted lips, and in one case, an actual corset. Nessa waved nervously.

"Ooh, you weren't kidding. She's cute," said Ella - or, was it Jinx? Nessa's cheeks went pink.

"And she blushes cute, too. Ooh, I could just eat her up!"

"Girls! Behave!" Gabby admonished them. "Now, let's put this one away and pick a nice four-player game.

Some time passed. The girls flirted with Nessa relentlessly, but fortunately Gabby was there to help her out... mostly. She seemed to enjoy making Nessa pink more than either of the others. Nessa ended up ordering a coffee just to have something to hide behind, which got several refills throughout the evening. As a result, she was already pretty jittery by the time the hosts came through with a dessert cart.

The cart had several different kinds of extraordinarily well-crafted desserts - a red candied apple full of sweet jam, a chocolate layer cake with dark rum-cherry frosting, strawberry macarons... Nessa's stomach rumbled as the others picked their decadence.

"And anything for you, madame?"

Nessa's speech was practiced. "No, thank you, I'm on a diet."

"We do offer a number of low-sugar or low-carb options. Perhaps a light raspberry parfait?"

Nessa's stomach rumbled again. She forced a smile onto her face. "No, thank you!"

"Very well, madame."

The waiter left, and Jinx - or was it Ella? Broke open her candied apple shell and began to scoop up bright-red jam with the shards. "You really ought to try this, Nessa, diet or no diet. The desserts here are to die for," she grinned, and Nessa swore she could see a sharp fang behind the smile.

Nessa gulped. "I- I really shouldn't-" her stomach growled again, even louder this time.

Gabby placed a concerned hand on her knee, and she jumped. "Nessa, have you not eaten today?"

Nessa couldn't look her in the eye. Her coffee-jittered fingers drummed on the table.

"Oh, I keep telling you to take better care of yourself! Come with me." Gabby grabbed Nessa by the wrist and pulled her along towards the counter at the long edge of the room. The girls tittered as Nessa was drawn along by Gabby's surprisingly strong grip.

Then, before they could get to the counter, Gabby made an abrupt turn into the women's room.

Before Nessa could say anything, she'd been pushed into one of the stalls. Gabby locked it behind her. "Honestly", she said, closing the lid and sitting down, "you don't have to deny yourself like this." She took her choker off and Nessa's gaze was suddenly laser-focused on her neck.

"B-but, I was doing so well! I was fine, honestly, it was j-just... all the... red..." The pulse in Gabby's neck was hypnotizing.

Gabby reached up and pulled Nessa closer, her grip inexorable on the back of her neck. They kissed, and Nessa tasted chocolate. She shuddered. Gabby pulled her closer, and whispered into her ear. "My blood sugar's topped off. Nobody will find out. Now's the perfect time. I trust you."

Nessa's resolve faltered, and she sank her fangs deep into Gabby's neck. Gabby moaned softly. Her blood tasted so sweet, rum and chocolate and cherries, and there was so much, cascading down her throat, giving life to the flush in her cheeks, quenching finally her deep, deep thirst.

Nessa came up for air, finally, and held Gabby up. She had a slow, dreamy expression on her face, and she nuzzled herself into Nessa's chest. "Mmmmm, see?" She said, slowly. "I told you it would all be okay."

"You've gone completely boneless," said Nessa. "How are we going to explain this to your friends?"

"Oh, we'll just tell them we had sex, it'll be fiiiine."

"What!?"

See this post, an alternate, 18+ ending, and sequels on Dreamwidth

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumpee nervously waited for the doctor to do the eye check for their appointment. They hadn't told Caretaker yet, but they desperately needed new glasses. Whumper broke their other pair during their captivity.

They had made it this long without telling Caretaker, but it was getting terribly difficult to see and hide the squinting.

"Uh doctor", Whumpee sighed, "I can save you some time if you like. I'm not going to be able to read those letters."

"Let's try anyways, it's part of you checkup", the doctor started the test.

"Yes. You failed that", the doctor sighed, "is this something that came about during your time with Whumper?"

"No doctor, I've always had glasses for a while, Whumper broke my other pair", Whumpee looked down shyly, "I've been too nervous to bother Caretaker with it though. They've been so busy with me already."

"I understand that, but it's not good or fair for you to go about with bad vision", the doctor smiled, "I know Caretaker very well, they will be happy to know their is something they can help you with."

The doctor finished the rest of the exam, "given the circumstances, you are in fairly good health, just a few things. You need to get your weight up, and new glasses. You'll also find rest to be your best friend while you heal."

Whumpee nodded.

"Let's bring Caretaker in. We can tell them the news together", the doctor patted Whumpee's shoulder, then left.

Whumpee sighed, 'something else they have to deal with.'

Caretaker came in and winked at Whumpee, "so you are blind", they smiled, "I was kind of figuring, but didn't want to say anything in case you just couldn't read."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to bother you with it. My other pair got broken by Whumper", Whumpee looked at the doctor.

"It's not a bother at all, I'm sorry you've gone so long without seeing", Caretaker sighed, "you've been with me a week and a half, plus however long it's been since those were broke. You definitely need them. Anything else you want to tell me."

"No besides what the doctor said, I seem healthy", Whumpee watched Caretaker pull out their phone.

"I'll get the appointment scheduled. Hopefully they're not booking way out", Caretaker looked, "please don't keep secrets from me. Your care is my top priority right now, and I need to know stuff like this to get you back to health. Don't worry about bothering me, I'd rather know, then find out."

Whumpee nodded.

Caretaker managed to get Whumpee in the next day for the eye appointment.

"Okay right in here", Caretaker led, "don't want the blind one to get lost", they teased.

That's was the running joke, and Whumpee enjoyed every bit of the humor.

The doctor clicked away with the lenses, and made the adjustment just right.

"Okay, you can pick your frames. You'll have to deal with this for about a week or so while the glasses are made", the doctor led them to the room.

Caretaker and Whumpee went through several glasses.

"These are just like my old pair", Whumpee held up a pair, "I kind of liked how they looked."

"Try them on and see if you still like them", Caretaker smiled.

"Okay", Whumpee slid them on and looked at Caretaker.

"I like them, what do you think", Caretaker held up a mirror.

Whumpee looked for a second, then felt their lips quiver.

"Are you okay?", Caretaker worried.

"Uh yes, just, overwhelmed", Whumpee smiled, "this is what I remember myself looking like, and when my glasses broke, I lost that, and I lost my sight. Now I'm seeing myself again, and I'll have my vision soon. I'm overwhelmed with excitement."

"I'm happy I am able to do things like this, these moments are the best. I'm able to watch someone be built back up", Caretaker smiled, "this is my favorite part of the job."

Whumpee pulled off the glasses and wiped a away a tear.

"Are these the glasses?", Caretaker questioned.

"Yes Caretaker", Whumpee wiped another tear away, and smiled. They took a deep breath, "these are the ones."

After they finished the order, Caretaker and Whumpee waited for the call for new glasses.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 27

Well... apparently having the two weeks from hell means that I go on a writing spree. I still have like half a notebook plus some more that's already written. I'll probably type some more up tomorrow. For now, I'm exhausted - and a little drunk - so this is as far as I got today.

Warnings: cursing, fluff, and show level talking about illegal shit.

Don't steal my shit. This is the only place it's posted. If you see it somewhere else, it's stolen.

Angel was the last one inside. He rolled the stained glass door closed behind him. 

Once everyone was seated, Bishop called the meeting to order. “Before we handle club business, we have some charter shit to discuss and bring to a vote.” He looked at Marcus. “Sorry, Padrino. New information.”

Marcus nodded. 

Bishop lit a cigarette and leaned forward. “It was brought to our attention that there is another tunnel to Mexico right in our backyard.” He paused and looked at Angel. “Tell them.” 

Angel took a deep breath and leaned forward as well, folding his hands on the table. Coco and Gilly both nodded at him. “When we raided the redneck ranch, Bishop sent us chasing Dennis. We told you he got away because he was shooting at us, and he did.” He paused and looked at Gilly. “It was also because while we were chasing him, Gilly and the Prospect fell into a hole in the ground. We stopped to pull them out. At first we thought it was some sort of animal den, but when we threw them down a light we found…”

Gilly took up the story. “It was a tunnel. A serious tunnel. We thought it was abandoned, but I went back to cover it up the next day and decided to check it closer.” He shrugged. “That branch was abandoned, but it led to another one that was in use. Working lights, supply stashes - everything. The Southern end ends at a locked hatch about a half mile into Mexico, but the Northern end -”

Bishop finished it, “The Northern end comes out in the cellar of the Ariza house.”

Every eye turned to Riz.

He sighed. “That tunnel is older than I am. My grandfather helped dig it. It belongs to Vickie. She uses it to help her girls. You know most of them don’t have papers. That’s what I was doing this afternoon. One of the girls hadn’t seen her baby in weeks, so I brought her mom and the baby to visit.”

Taza shook his head. “You should have told us.”

Riz sat forward. “It’s not affecting the club at all. I didn’t think it mattered.”

Hank growled. “Didn’t matter? And if you’d been caught using it? You’re an officer of this club. They’d never believe we didn’t know about it.” 

Bishop nodded sternly. “Hank’s right. You put us all in danger. We’re a club. Everything comes to the table, brother. You risked exposing us all without consulting us.”

“It’s not even my tunnel! There’s no action for the club!” Riz asserted.

Megan caught his eye. “There might not be any action, Riz, but there was risk. Every move we made would be suspect if someone found that tunnel that wasn’t us.” She shook her head. “We’d have lost the guns, the deal with the L.O. - everything.”

Taza agreed. “And it wouldn’t have stopped with our charter, brother. Every charter would be subject to suspicion. Probably even a R.I.C.O. investigation.”

Riz slammed himself backwards in his chair angrily.

Bishop raised a hand to forestall any more comments. “We need to vote this. Riz - step out.”

“This is bullshit!” Riz exploded and shoved himself back from the table before stomping out.

Megan shivered at his tone and reached to rub Rex’s ears under the table to hide her shaking hands. Hank slid her chair closer to his and his arm around her shoulders soothingly. It was only family. He could afford the affection in Templo.

Bishop ashed his cigarette and sighed. “We have to decide how serious this offense is.” He looked around and met everyone’s eyes. “Do we strip his patch?”

Megan sucked her breath in sharply but stayed silent. She didn’t have a say in this. She bit down hard on her bottom lip as Hank soothed her a bit by running his hand up and down her spine.

Creeper sighed and ran a hand over his bald head. “Man - it was stupid, but I don't think it was malicious. Riz would never risk the club on purpose.” 

Coco lit a fresh smoke. “That’s true, but he still did it.”

Bishop sat back and sipped whiskey, but stayed out of the discussion.

Hank shook his head. “But stripping his patch? Riz lives for this club. It’s why we voted him Secretario.”

Taza agreed. “But we also can’t trust him with that job if he’s not considering the club when he makes his decisions - especially when he does something like this.”

Gilly nodded. “I agree.”

Bishop finally spoke. “So do we let him keep his patch, but strip his rank then?”

Taza nodded. “I’ll second that idea. Strip his rank. He’s left a full member with his vote, but not an officer.”

“And not eligible to hold office again for at least two years,” Hank agreed.

Nods went around the table. Bishop met everyone’s eyes. “Alright then. Let’s vote.” 

The vote was unanimous. Taza stood to call Riz in, where Bishop informed him of the decision made by the club. 

Riz drew his belt knife and cut the stitching that held his rank flash to his kutte and threw it on the table. 

Bishop called for nominations for the position and it came to a unanimous vote that Angel took the flash - with Riz abstaining from the vote with Bishop’s blessing.

Once everything had settled, Bishop looked to the new Secretario. “Alright. Charter shit handled. Now - what did Adelita say?”

Angel smirked a bit. “La Princessa was right. Adelita and her people are the perfect ones to hide and keep those weapons for us. We saw their current camp. It’s impossible to find without the coordinates. We were right on top of it before we even knew it was there and their guards had us in sight long before that. And every mother fucker there is deadly. Kids included.” Angel lit a cigarette. “We just need to get them shipping details. The barrels can come into the port at Ensenada to a shell company that EZ has the details for. The L.O. will move it, assemble and guard. We just play delivery boys and deal with the buyers. L.O. gets twenty percent. SAMCRO gets five percent. Seventy-five percent of the profit goes to the club.”

Marcus grinned. “Everyone wins.”

Bishop chuckled. “Everyone wins. Any questions?”

Megan raised her hand and looked to Angel. “Did Adelita find out who was following us in the market?”

“Nah. She put a tail on them, but the kid lost them.” Angel shrugged. “She wants to keep meets to a minimum until we either figure it out or the first shipment gets here.”

Bishop nodded. “Any objection to Angel staying the go-between?” he asked before looking around. When there weren’t any, he nodded again. “Alright then. Any other business?” When no one had any, he banged the gael. “Good. We’re done here.”

Angel, Coco, and Gilly rose to leave with Riz right on their tail looking pissed. 

Creeper sighed and pushed himself up. “They’ll be in the cage before sundown.”

Bishop nodded. “Probably, but that’s on them.”

“I’ll go supervise -” Creep agreed. 

Bishop grinned. “You’re on your own, brother. We’ve got paperwork and Hank’s got a date.”

That made Creeper laugh and wink at Megan. “Alright. Fair enough.”

After he left, the elder members of the club all turned their eyes to Megan and Hank. “Hank, brother, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Bishop asked. 

Hank laughed. “It’s all planned out. We can leave whenever mi reina is ready.”

Megan giggled and stood up. “Alright. We’re going. Don’t spend all of your time gossiping about us.” She petted Rex’s ears again. “His harness and leash are behind the bar. I’ll have EZ fill his bowls. Should I leave the Templo door cracked so he can get out or do you want it closed?”

Taza laughed and stood to hug her tightly. “The pooch will be fine. We’ll be home late, so don’t wait up for us. Enjoy yourself, Chica.” He kissed her forehead and she felt his lips move as he muttered something in Apache against the crown of her head.

Megan hugged him back and smiled. “We will. Have fun doing paperwork.” She grinned as she went to hug her tíos too. They both said their goodnights before Megan gave the command for Rex to stay with Taza and joined Hank at the door to Templo.

Hank led the way to the car with a grin. “Are you excited to get to ride the bike again, mi amore?”

Megan nodded enthusiastically and slid into the passenger seat as Hank held the door open for her. “I really am. I love my car - but nothing beats riding the bike.”

“Good. We’ll head home to change before we head out.”

“Where are we going?” Megan asked as he joined her in the front seat.

“I promised you dinner and dancing, mi reina. I haven’t forgotten.”

At the ranch, Hank hung up their kuttes when they came through the door. Then he tugged her close by her waist to plant a kiss on her lips. When he finally came up for air, he couldn’t help but smile at the slightly dazed look on her face. “Alright, mi princessa. I’m going to do something I normally wouldn’t do.”

“What’s that?” she asked a bit breathlessly.

He tilted her chin up so she’d meet his eyes. “I’m going to make a request for your outfit. Will you please wear a dress for tonight? I don’t care which one - but you deserve a nice night and the dress will help with that.”

She smiled up at him. “Alright. But - you have to let me surprise you.”

He chuckled. “Going to short circut my brain?”

“Hopefully.”

“Alright, mi amore. Let me grab my stuff and I’ll get ready in Taza’s room.”

Hank grabbed the hanging suit bag from the closet and smiled. “You need anything before I go, mi princessa?” he asked, pulling her left hand to his mouth to kiss her crown ring. 

Megan smiled at him. “Will you help me change my earrings? I want to wear my pearls.”

“Of course, mi reina.” Hank carefully led her over to her dressing table and switched her earrings from the feathers he’d bought her to her crowned pearls. The backs were just too fiddly for her to do with the soft cast on. “Anything else?”

Megan touched the necklace she was wearing that matched Taza’s. “Can you help me swap this one out for grandmother’s pearls before you go?”

“Are you sure, mi amore? You haven’t taken it off since Taza gave it to you. You could leave it on,” Hank said, rubbing her shoulders gently.

“I’m sure. I’ve got my ring from Papa on. The pearls will look nice with the dress.” She smiled at him in the mirror. 

Hank nodded and carefully worked the slide knots to loosen the turquoise and silver piece. He took the pearls from the wooden carved box on the vanity and carefully fastened the gold clasp. “There. Beautiful.” 

Megan touched them and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He picked up his suit bag and kissed her softly. “Call if you need me.”

Hank quickly rinsed off the road dust in the hall shower before pulling the black suit that he usually wore to mass with Mama out. It was still pressed from the last time Mama had done it. He pulled the white collared shirt on over his wife beater and fussed with how high to button it. He couldn’t decide if the tie was a good idea. He finally decided against it and left his collar unbuttoned as well. 

As he was fixing his hair, there was a knock at the door. He quickly went to answer it, calling out “I got it” so Megan wouldn’t come out.

EZ stood there with the biggest bouquet of mixed wild flowers and roses Hank could order in a vase with a grin on his face. 

“Any trouble with the pick up?” Hank asked.

“Nah.” EZ handed him the flowers and a small white box.

“Good. Get going before she gets curious,” Hank told him with a grin.

EZ laughed quietly and threw his hands up in surrender for leaving Hank to finish getting ready. 

In the bedroom, Megan also had quickly rinsed the tunnel dust off in the shower without getting her hair wet. She couldn’t do much with it with the soft cast still on, so she pinned her twin braids into a knot at the base of her skull. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best that she could do without Taza there to help. Besides, this way her helmet wouldn’t knock it too badly.

She slipped into the shorts Letty had bought her for dresses and figured out how to make the sticky bra work after a quick text chain with the teen herself. Then she stood in front of the dresses in her closet and froze. 

Which dress? Hank had said “nice” but what did that mean, really? Before she could get too deeply in her head about it, Megan called Diana.

“Hola, Sweetheart. Everything alright?” Diana asked through the phone.

“Hey Tía. Sorry. I forgot you might still be driving. Everything’s fine. Just having a bit of a fashion trouble,” Megan assured her.

“You’re fine, Sweetie. I was just about to text you. We just got inside. What’s the matter?” Diana asked.

Megan could hear rustling as her aunt sat things down. “Well, Hank and I are finally going out tonight, but I’m not sure what to wear. He asked for dress because we’re going dancing.”

Tía Diana chuckled. “Ah. I understand. Can’t figure it out?”

“Yeah. Any chance you could help me?”

“Of course, Bebita. What’s Hank wearing?” she asked.

“He took his suit bag to change in Papa’s room.”

“Ah. Perfect. So he’s wearing a suit. What did the doctor say? Do we need to work around your sling?” Megan could hear the change as Diana sat down somewhere.

“No sling,” Megan told her.

“Beautiful. Alright, Sweetheart, swap me to video call so I can see what we’re working with.”

Megan carefully swapped the phone to a video call to show Diana her packed closet. “He said ‘nice’. What does that mean?”

Diana chuckled. “Good question. Which of these have you already worn?”

Diana walked Megan through narrowing down her choices. Both of the final contenders were very different. One was black with tiny spaghetti straps and a back that started right beneath her tattoo. The v-neck allowed her jewelry to be the spotlight as did the plain black fabric. The skirt went to just below her knees and was loose enough to be able to get on the bike.

The second dress was a deep red. The skirt was short, but full and would make a statement if they actually went dancing. It had a sweetheart neckline and straps that went off the shoulder. The back though, was where it really shined. The dress was backless to the small of her back, putting her tattoo on full display as well as a lot of her skin. 

Either dress would pair nicely with the classic black ballet flats that were her only dress shoe option until after her quince.

“How do I figure out which to wear, Tía?” Megan asked, staring down at her two choices spread on her bed.

“How do you want the night to end?” Diana asked. “That should give you an idea of how daring you want to be.”

Megan felt her cheeks warm as she thought about Hank’s promises for after she was out of her sling.

Diana laughed. “That face screams red dress, Sweetheart. I left a lipstick that should be great with it on your dressing table along with an eyeliner pencil and mascara. I know you know how to use those even if you don’t do it often.” She smiled. “You don’t need much makeup anyway, Princessa.”

“Thank you, Tía. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

Diana waved her off. “You’d have been fine, Sweetheart. Send me a picture when you’re dressed.”

They said their goodbyes and Megan hurried to use the makeup products Diana had left her before sliding into the red dress and flats. She smoothed her hair and took a few pictures with her phone to send to her tía and Letty. As a last minute decision, she also sent one to Taza. 

A moment later, her phone dinged with a text from her father. She checked it. “You look beautiful, Chica. Enjoy your night.”

Megan smiled and tucked her phone, wallet, and lipstick into a small black purse. She was ready. 

Hank had just slipped into his dress boots and suit jacket when his phone chimed three times from the table. It was his personal cell, not the club burner, so he didn’t worry too much about the texts being anything that could mess up his night. He laughed as he realized they were texts from Taza, Bishop and Marcus. He opened Bishop’s first. 

“Take your gun, brother. YOu might need it to keep the pendejos under control. She’s fucking beautiful.” Hank chuckled, but checked his ankle holster for his back up anyway. 

The text from Marcus simply said “you better do this right,” and Hank couldn’t help but smile. As the only married Mayan currently in Santo Padre, Marcus was certainly a man with strong opinions on how his god daughter should be treated. 

Taza’s text was a little different. “Be sure to tell her how beautiful she looks. Show her how a princessa should be treated. And lock the damn bedroom door!”

Hank laughed. He only replied to Taza’s message since he knew they were all together. “I’ll take good care of her. I promise. And yes - I’ll lock the door.” He slipped his phone into his jacket pocket before he settled it across his broad shoulders and reached for the flowers and box that EZ had dropped off for him.

He knocked on the bedroom door gently. “Mi reina? I take it from the text message I just got from Taza that you’re ready. Can I come in?”

“Come on in,” Megan called through the wooden door.

Hank opened the door carefully with his full hands and stepped into the bedroom.

Megan was standing in the middle of the room fiddling with her purse. She looked up and smiled as Hank came in.

His breath caught in his throat and his jaw dropped. He barely held onto his gifts. “Dios mío, eres tan hermosa, mi reina. How’d I get so lucky?”

Megan’s smile widened. “Usually when you slip into Spanish, I did good, so I’ll take that as a compliment.

Hank chuckled. “You’re beautiful, Megan. So God damned beautiful that my brain shuts down.” He stepped forward and offered her the flowers.

“Thank you! They’re beautiful. My first real flowers…” Megan bent to smell them with a giggle. 

“There will be plenty more, mi amore. I promise.”

Megan sat the vase on her dresser and fussed with them a moment before turning back to him. “You look great too.”

He smiled and offered her his hand so he could pull her close. He gently kissed her knuckles and smiled. “I got you one more thing.” He offered her the small white cardboard box that was tied with a green ribbon.

Megan took it, stepping closer to him to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

“Open it.”

She pulled the lid off the box to find a delicate pearl bracelet to match the rest of her jewelry. “Oh Hank… It’s gorgeous.”

He took it from the box and showed her where the clasp had an H and an M entwined engraved on it before fastening it around her left wrist. He pressed a kiss to the skin of her inner wrist with a smile. “Ready for a real date?”

“With you? So ready,” Megan said with a smile. 

Hank helped Megan into her armored leather jacket and helmet before putting his own on. EZ had also detailed Hank’s bike during Templo and dropped it off with the flowers and jewelry. It was parked out front. 

Hank mounted his bike and helped Megan to settle behind him. He savored how close she was to him and felt her arms come around his waist tightly before he started the bike and headed for town. 

Taglist

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

@camelia35

@anaeve

@tallrock35

@keyweegirlie

As always let me know if you want added or removed from the list

[ghost-proofbaby]

GHOST'S "OPEN BAR" 3K CELEBRATION

as a way to say thank you and show my appreciation for hitting 3k, i decided it's about time for a party around here... don't y'all? and what better way to get a party started than to get a little boozy! (haha get it? BOOzy? because ghost? no? okay i'll stop.)

THE RULES: below the cut will be a fun menu filled to the brim with delicious drinks! send me an ask with your order, and as long as it follows my general rules, i'll whip it right up for you! the idea here is each drink represents a different general trope, and you fill in the blanks with a character of your choosing (see below) as well as general ideas! below will be examples of requests. i will being doing as many of these requests as possible for this week, from april 3rd (today) to april 8th. starting april 9th, i have a different fun week planned for us to keep the party going, and will announce it on sunday <3

WHO I'M WRITING FOR: eddie munson, steve harrington, spencer reid, and joel miller. you must specify the character in your request, or i will not complete it.

EXAMPLES OF REQUESTS: "hi! can i get a filthy martini with eddie munson? maybe some overstimulation involving toys?" or "can i get a flute of champagne with joel miller? maybe what the end of the day looks like in the QZ!" you can get as specific or as vague as you'd like! these are just examples :-)

also, before we dive in, i've also filled this post with easter eggs towards just a few of my favorite fics/authors (and a couple of my own). i have added a link over each reference in case any of them catch your eye. i wouldn't have hit this milestone without all of these wonderful people who inspire and support me, and there was no way i wasn't sending a nod their way during this event. i love y'all endlessly <3

alright, onwards with the party bus, friends!

THE MENU:

🥃 WILLOW'S OLD-FASHIONED: angst

long week? a new job babysitting a rockstar that just cannot and will not behave? has that blonde coworker you just wish you could slap into the next week gotten on your final nerve? look no further! sit back and cry relax with one of our famous old-fashioneds!

🍷 ASH'S SPECIAL: hurt/comfort

whiskey and bitters not your cup of tea? be still your old heart! no worries! relax like the world's ending from your long week with a good book and a glass of our famous Sauvignon Blanc instead!

🥂 FLUTE OF CHAMPAGNE: fluff

sip on some of our top shelf Dom Perignon and get lost in the bubbles! this classic will have you feeling so good, it's almost as if you've traded bodies with your arch nemesis in a freaky friday ordeal. just don't think too hard about his... mechanics below the belt... or this drink might be a boner killer. let the good times roll!

🍸 FILTHY MARTINI: smut

feeling dirty? look no further. here at ghost's, we've got you covered with one of our dirty, downright filthy martinis. disclaimer: we are not legally responsible for you getting colorfully intimate with your friend's dad or if you end up in a 3-film-box-set porno deal. yeah, our lawyers make us put those disclaimers now. keep it in your pants, folks!

not looking to get tipsy tonight? no worries! check out our extended menu options - we've still got you covered <3

☕ CUP OF SUNSHINE: mutual pining

get it hot! get it iced! get it fresh! as long as you get it before it's gone! wake yourself up with a cup of our coffee brewed in-house. cream and sugar available upon request. (hot and dirty sex in the back room not available upon request.)

🥐 KARMEN'S CROISSANTS: exes to lovers

be sure to grab a snack during your night out! these croissants are absolutely to die for (just don't fall for your reaper, folks!). enjoy this lamented pastry in our favorite armchair by the window while enjoying one of our many books laid out for your pleasure!

easter eggs i'm unable to tag (aka banner):

the "yes" policy

and my own twenty-four hours

also, filthy martini is fully a shout out to the legend behind the man of the hour who has inspired a large majority of these fics as well as my own - mr. joseph quinn himself. may all his martinis be the absolute filthiest.

once again, thank you all. i will never know how to repay the kindness showed to me, so i will do what i do best - write. also, please keep in mind i have no idea how many requests i will receive. my hope is to complete as many as possible without driving myself to absolute madness; please be kind and patient with me <3

[mayajadewrites]

Stained Red

Chapter Two: Black Coffee

The walk to Birch's Coffee isn't too far from the office, but the temperature makes it feel like it's 5x longer. You love Autumn though, so you savor every moment of the cool breeze and foliage.

Walking down the steps, you notice Matt is walking a bit slower and looks almost lost. "Do you want to hold my arm?" You ask, holding out your left arm in front of him.

"If you don't mind, thank you. The wind is throwing me off." Matt lightly grabs your arm, picking up his pace. You felt his fingers grasp your arm a bit tighter when someone walked by you.

"So, how long have you lived in New York?" You ask, shoving your other hand in your pocket.

"I've lived in Hell's Kitchen my whole life. I don't think I could ever leave here even if I tried. You?"

"No way, me too. Born and raised." You smile proudly, looking ahead at the sign for the coffee shop. You led the two of you into the cafe, rubbing your hands together as the door closed.

"Cold?" Matt said, fixing his jacket.

"A bit. But I'm honestly always cold." You adjusted your beanie, running your fingers through your curls. "It doesn't help that I strictly drink iced coffee."

"I'm gonna try not to judge you." Matt shook his head, looking in your direction. "What's good here?"

"First, tell me how you usually like your coffee."

"Black." He said flatly.

"Ok, Matt "Boring" Murdock. Then just get a black hot coffee. I'm gonna get an iced vanilla latte with cinnamon."

"Hey, easy on the boring. You can't go wrong with black coffee."

You order for the both of you, sliding your card over the counter. "I'm so sorry again about earlier. I need to watch where I'm going."

"It's okay, maybe I'll bump into you tomorrow morning so I can take you out on a coffee date." Matt smirked, patiently waiting for his coffee.

You shake your head and look down, your cheeks burning a bit.

"I'm not opposed."

The barista sang your name, like she was in a Disney movie.

"Thank you." You smile, grabbing the two drinks.

"No problem, is that your boyfriend?" She whispered, raising her eyebrows. "He is not bad to look at."

You raised one of your eyebrows, your eyes falling. "Thank you." Was all you said before you swiftly turned around and headed for the small table Matt was waiting for you at.

"So, what's your day looking like?" You ask, leaning your cheek on the palm of your hand.

"I have some briefing to do, but nothing really crazy. I should be out of the office by 5. I never asked what you do, that was rude."

"I'm an author. Nothing crazy, but I write romance novels." You took a sip of your latte. "I rented out the office space so I can create boundaries between work and home. I didn't want my house to also be my workplace."

"Ah, makes sense. So you have a way with words?"

"I mean - maybe?" You laughed, slowly looking up at Matt. It felt like he was staring straight into your soul.

"If you can translate one of your books to braille, I would love to read your work." Matt sipped his coffee, adjusting his glasses.

"Sure, but just so you know there's some parts that are, well - spicy."

"Spicy? Like as in spicy sauce?" Matt tilted his head.

"Sorry, as in like... dirty."

"Oh. You mean sex." The ease that he said that made you nervous. Men don't usually make you nervous.

"I- yes."

"Ok... so like I said. If you can translate it to braille I would love to read it."

"You got it, Murdock." You smiled, checking the time on your phone. "We should start walking back." You slid out of your chair and when you looked up, Matt head your coat in his hands.

"May I?" He asks innocently.

You nod as Matt gently helps you put on your coat, running his fingertips up your arm. Your breath hitches when his hands get close to your neck - how embarassing.

"Thank you." The smile on your face was small, but inside you felt like you were bursting. When his touch was gone, you felt almost like you missed it.

Matt adjusted his hand and grabbed your arm to lead you out, to which you sighed in relief.

The walk back to the office was quiet, almost like you both were soaking up this time with each other. When you reached the steps, you couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.

"Don't forget about my special copy." Matt winked, letting go of your arm. "And thank you for the coffee. It was delicious." You looked at his lips, smelling a faint coffee scent mixed with his musk and vanilla.

"I won't. Get some work done, Murdock." You walk in front of him straight to the elevator. The doors shut slowly and you leaned your head against the wall. You've never felt like this after a coffee date, let alone a simple touch.

You needed to write to get your mind off of Matt Murdock.

Later that day

You started a draft of your new novel, but ended up burying your head a new book you recently picked up. Before you knew it, it was 5:15. Surely Matt had left by now.

"Knock, knock." You heard a low voice say, accompanied by a soft knock on your door.

You got up from your desk and opened the door for Matt, surprised to see him. "I thought you would've left by now." You say, opening the door wider so he can come in.

"Well, I was about to leave but I noticed that I didn't hear you leave, so I thought I could walk you home, or walk you to your boyfriends house-"

"I don't have a boyfriend." You shook your head, packing up your tote bag. "I live alone about 8 blocks from here. If you're up for the trip, I would love for you to walk me home."

Matt nodded, looking around the room. "Where is your coat?"

"Its right next to the door on the coat rack, but I got it. Don't worry."

"Nonsense." Matt walked to the coat rack and gently grabbed your jacket.

I wonder if his hands are always that gentle.

Matt helped you put your coat on, and you two were off.

"Since, you know, I can't see - what's your address? Maybe I'll know where it is." Matt asked curiously.

"Sure," You tell him your address, maneuvering through the crowds of people leaving work.

"That's right near the gym I go to, Fogwells." Matt said.

"Oh, nice! I pass by there all the time." You make a mental note to look through the window to see if he's working out next time.

Your walk home was full of innocent laughs and smiles, and it was over too soon.

"This is me." You stopped in front of your apartment, looking at Matt. "Thank you for today, I enjoyed it." You turn to go up the steps before Matt gently grabs you by your forearm.

"Could I get your number? So I can remind you about the book." Matt smiled, tilting his head to the side.

"Yes, absolutely." You smile, grabbing his phone and typing in your name as a new contact along with your number.

"Have a good night." Matt smiled, the way he said your name made your heart pound a little faster. "I'll be seeing you."

You smile and head up your stairs, looking back as you do so. Matt was still waiting there - you assumed he's waiting for you to get into your house.

You close the door and lock it, and he's gone.

When was the next time you would see him? Would he touch you again? God, his lips look like a treasure. I wonder what they taste like...

That's it, you need a drink.

Next chapter will be in Matt's POV! Hope you enjoyed! PS - I'm also going to start incorporating mood boards for each chapter going forward. Let me know what you think!

[moonshotsx]

there was nothing left but the scent of a flower - sashnetra (flower shop au)

tattoo artist and the flower shop owner, a tale as old as time

-

"Uh, it looks like someone finally bought up the old store".

Sasha lifted her eyes from the flower arrangement she was working on when she heard her apprentice speak.

"Really?"

"A tattoo shop? That's interesting, pretty sure it's the first one in this area," Marcia continued, "Oh! Is that a duckling as a logo? That's so cute!"

"A duck as a tattoo shop logo? That's a first," Sasha commented with a chuckle, her attention back towards the job at hand. She had a few hours to finish it before the client was supposed to pick it up.

"It's got a scar over one of its eyes, to be fair, very intimidating," Marcia teased before her attention was captured by someone walking out of the shop, "Oh my god, is that the new owner? She's hot!"

That caught Sasha's attention as well.

She quickly made her way to the window where Marcia had been standing, sneaking a look over the tall apprentice.

Marcia didn't lie. A stunning brunette was just outside the building in just a white tank top and jeans. She was too far away to properly get a look at her features, but Sasha was enjoying the view regardless.

The way her muscles flexed as the mysterious woman leaned to clean the window was making her all-

"I know she's hot, but you can stop drooling on my shoulder, Sash," Marcia's voice brought her back to reality, realizing just how long she had been staring with her mouth open.

"Mind your business, girlie," she hit Marcia's shoulder playfully only prompting a laugh from the latter.

"Yes, mom," she showed her tongue before adding, "You should go greet her, you're the owner here, isn't that good etiquette?"

"We are far too busy today with all those deadlines just days away, we have at least twenty more orders to satisfy just today," Sasha reasoned as she made her way back to the flower arrangement she had been working on.

"C'mon, how long it's going to take you to say hi to her? I'll cover up for you," Marcia showed off her impeccable smile that only made the florist more suspicious.

"You being so adamant about me meeting with the new tattoo shop owner surely has nothing to do with how you were telling me to 'please get laid, you've been so stressed that I can cut your tension with a butter knife'?" Sasha made air quotes with her fingers as she repeated their conversation from the week prior.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Marcia said in a sing-song tone, twirling around to the register.

Sasha narrowed her eyes, slightly shaking her head, "You're something else, Marsh," she exhaled loudly, "But, fine, I'll go greet her once I'm done with this arrangement. You'll take care of the register and the three clients that are supposed to pick up their orders this afternoon, got it?".

"Works for me," Marcia gave her the thumb's up before skipping her way to the back to get the already finished flower arrangements, a smirk plastered on her face.

Once left alone, Sasha sighed again, "I'm not that desperate to get laid, am I?"

-

Just a little over an hour later, Sasha found herself in front of the tattoo shop's door as she was greeted with an embossed logo on the glass and the sign 'We're Open!'.

She checked herself out for a moment on the window before walking inside, the sound of a tiny bell ringing to announce her arrival.

"Hello?"

It was clear the shop was still finishing up the last details before an official opening. Some framed pictures and artworks were leaning against the freshly unboxed furniture, ready to be nailed to the rich purple walls.

The only thing already hung up was a neon version of the duck logo Marcia had been talking about, quite the statement piece, Sasha might add.

Her snooping around was interrupted by a muted thud coming from under the desk, followed by a muttered curse.

"Are you alright, baby?" Sasha asked as she furrowed her brows.

At first only two eyes peeked from the check-in desk, one of them sporting a scar similar to the one of the duckling.

"Yep, all fine, just caught me a bit off guard while I was connecting a few cables for the computer here," the brunette from earlier started explaining and Sasha couldn't help but be fixated on her beauty.

The ticking of the wall clock laying on the couch in the entrance of the shop filled the silence left for a few moments before the tattoo artist spoke up again.

"Oh, wait, I didn't introduce myself," she blurted out, "Sorry, my mind has been all over the place, "Hi! I'm Anetra, welcome to the 'Lost Duckling' tattoo shop. How can I help you out?"

Sasha shook the extended hand, taking in the roughness of Anetra's hand and loving it.

"I'm Sasha, I own the flower shop right in front of your shop? 'Mother Flower'?" She replied with a soft smile, "I just wanted to properly welcome you in to the neighborhood".

"Oh, yeah, I saw it when I was checking out the place, you did a wonderful job with it. Even from the outside, it looks like a flower paradise!"

"I'm liking what you've done so far with your place too, 'Lost Duckling', you said?"

Anetra blushed, "Yeah, I just put together a childhood obsession with ducks and the story of my life to come up with that," she let out a nervous chuckle and scratched the back of her head.

"I never felt like I belonged growing up, you know being mixed at first, then coming out didn't help," she continued explaining herself, "So, I kind of always felt like a lost duckling trying to find my way in the world, you know?"

Before Sasha had any time to reply, Anetra shook her head, "God, I'm so sorry, trauma dumping on a first meeting isn't the best look," she whined before adding, "It's just... you got a calming aura about you, I feel like I can tell you everything," she blurted out, only to be stopped by Sasha's had on hers.

"It's okay," Sasha said, "You're not the first one to tell me that. I'm glad you feel safe around me," she paused, "I really hope that you'll find your place one day".

Anything more she wanted to add was stopped in its tracks when her phone started ringing.

Sasha looked down to see the number of one of her clients, she knew she had to answer.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Anetra. Feel free to come by the shop any time," Sasha waved the brunette goodbye before answering her phone, "Hi, this is Sasha Colby, how can I help you?".

Anetra watched as Sasha exited her shop, giving her a tiny wave before the door closed behind her.

"Yeah, I think I might have found my place," she muttered to herself with a smile.

[sparkles-oflight]

Official Visualizer

I was going to post yesterday, but then...last night happened

Synopsis: Kris finds out his sick before leaving for London and Bojan doesn't miss an opportunity to send needy messages The fic doesn't get explicit, but the sexual tension is very much there, so, if you are not into this sort of thing, don't read!

(Yes, I might have read that one phone fanfic in Thailand and wanted to do something similar but more toned down, why do you ask?)

Disclaimer: Please think of these as characters and not the actual people. I don’t encourage anyone to send this to any of the actual JO members nor do I encourage people to force any type of relationship between anyone.

Yes, I make Kris call his mom "mama" because I think that's sweet.

In his childhood room, Kris' rest was interrupted by a soft and familiar voice.

- Kris...- his mom slowly opened the door to his room - Have you prepared your luggage?

He opened his eyes.

- Uh...not yet, mama. - he replied rubbing his eyes.

She got closer to the sleepy boy and touched him on the forehead.

- You have a fever.

Fuck. Kris had to catch a plane to London tomorrow. There's no way this was happening.

- Uh... I'm good I can prepare the luggage.

- Maybe it's best if you stay here for a couple of days. What if it's COVID again? You don't want to get your friends sick now, do you?

Well, that's true, he didn't want to get any of them sick - especially the vocalist. Kris' mom knew how to touch her son's heart.

- Okay, fine.

- Great, I'll get you something to eat and medicine. You should probably take a shower afterward. - she put her hand behind his head - You're sweaty.

- Thanks...

She left the room and he reached for his phone.

Kris Guštin: hi everyone Unfortunately, I have a fever, I don't think I'm going to go with you guys tomorrow Nacko: Are you okay? Kris Guštin: I probably just spent too much time in the cold or smth Janči: Well, get better soon Jurček: Get better soon, Kris!

His mom reentered the room with a glass of water and a cheese and ham sandwich.

- Here you go. - he noticed the medicine on the plate she bought.

She smiled at him. He knew deep down she was also happy to have him for a few more days.

- Thanks.

- I'll leave you now. - she smiled, blew him a kiss, and left him.

He looked back at his phone. He opened his private messages and saw Bojan had sent him a photo.

It was just a photo of him with a filter that made his eyes big with the caption "YOU'LL MISS MY BIRTHDAY!?"

Kris took another picture eating this sandwich with a pink filter. The caption was "Yes :)"

He decided to set his phone aside to finish the sandwich. He already got some crumbs on his bed, and he hated it. Maybe focusing on one task at a time was better.

When Kris finished, he picked up his phone again. New Bojan photo. He opened it. ":(" Bojan said while making a sad face.

Kris Guštin: Why are you making :( Kris Guštin: I'm the one who's sick Bojči ♥️: Because I won't be able to see you eat that sandwich next to me :( Kris Guštin: ??? Bojči ♥️: You kinda realize you had a very sexual face in that photo Kris Guštin: ???

Kris wanted to go back and see, but he only sent him as a one-view only photo.

Bojči ♥️: It was the messy hair, the sweat, the slightly open mouth, and the blush Kris Guštin: Bojan Kris Guštin: I'm sick. Bojči ♥️ sent a photo

Kris decided to take the medicine first, leaving just some water in the cup. When he opened Bojan's message, he captioned it with "This was you". He ruffled his own hair and did the pose he described previously but way more exaggerated and provocative.

Kris Guštin: I get it. You're horny. Bojči ♥️: I'm lonely! You left me alone to go to your parents'! Bojči ♥️: I wanted to be your nurse! Bojči ♥️: You'd be healthy in seconds with my special treatment ;) Bojči ♥️: I would have scrubbed your back as you showered! Bojči ♥️: I would check on you all the time Bojči ♥️: I would cook for you too! Bojči ♥️: (okay, I would order delivery, but you know...) Kris Guštin sent a photo

He liked to entertain Bojan's idea. He used the rest of the water to wet his lips and he massaged them with his fingers. He captioned the photo with "You'd like to have your fingers in my mouth, wouldn't you?"

Kris Guštin: It's only a suggestion

Kris could only imagine what Bojan's reaction to the photo was...He was taking too long to reply.

Bojči ♥️: This is unfair Kris Guštin: Well, now I gotta go Bojči ♥️: Where???? Kris Guštin: Shower Bojči ♥️: :D Bojči ♥️: Wait for me! Kris Guštin: Alone

Kris got up and picked up one of his winter pajamas and a towel. He took the phone with him to the bathroom.

Bojči ♥️: I'm going to miss you :( Kris Guštin: I'm only going for a shower Bojči ♥️: And you don't even intend to give me an official visualizer!? Kris Guštin: I'm sure the phone would just be ruined if I took it with me for a shower. Bojči ♥️: maybe :/

Kris undressed himself and he decided to open his phone one last time before taking a shower.

He took a photo of himself in the mirror, slightly leaning in on the sink. The photo was able to capture his upper body at its fullest and it was possible to see a bit - and only a bit - of his hip. Just enough to see his almost non-existent tan line, but nothing else.

"Okay, enough of that", he thought.

He finally turned on the hot water and walked into the shower. God, it felt amazing. He was still wondering how he'd have to find new ticket planes...he probably wouldn't be able to make it until after Bojan's birthday, uh. With the holidays and all...

Kris enjoyed taking that shower, not only because he was sick, but because he was dying to see Bojan's reaction. As soon as he finished it, he cleaned his hands and picked up the phone again.

Bojči ♥️ screenshoted the photo Bojči ♥️: I'M SORRY I SCREENSHOT BY ACCIDENT Bojči ♥️: At least the first 2 times Bojči ♥️: But now I get 5 screenshots of you looking lovely Bojči ♥️ sent a video

Kris opened the video. It was Bojan lying in bed.

- Do you see this empty space!? - he pointed to Kris' side of the bed - THIS IS WHERE YOU SHOULD BE AT! I should be nursing you back to health! But! - he raised his finger - Maybe I'll forgive you if you keep sending me messages like these.

Bojči ♥️: how long is this showeeeeeer Bojči ♥️: don't leave me alone for too long :( Bojči ♥️: OMG YOU SAW THE MESSAGES

Kris noticed he reached the end. Damn, he should have waited longer.

Kris Guštin: This really isn't fair, is it? I'm out here posting myself and you are doing God knows what with my pictures. Kris Guštin: What about me though? Bojči ♥️: Fair? Your beauty is unfair! Kris Guštin: -_- Bojči ♥️: Okay, I'm gonna give you what you want ;) Bojči ♥️: And never up. Bojči ♥️: or let you down Bojči ♥️: or turn around and desert you Bojči ♥️ sent a GIF

It was a Rick roll.

Kris Guštin: I was thinking about giving you a visualizer Kris Guštin: now I won't Bojči ♥️ sent a GIF

It was a drawing of a cat mashing on a table.

Bojči ♥️: gimme gimme gimme Bojči ♥️: a man afteeeer midnight! Bojči ♥️: better? Kris Guštin sent a photo

Bojan definitely knew how to persuade him.

Kris sent a picture of him sitting down with the towel barely covering anything - again, only showing just a bit lower than the tan line - but this time the towel he used allowed him to see almost every detail that mattered to Bojan's eyes.

That wasn't the only captive thing about it. Kris took the photo from a high angle, looking up through his eyelids, he had his mouth slightly opened and his skin and hair were still very much wet.

"Official visualizer", he captioned it.

Bojan didn't reply for a while and Kris noticed he had screenshotted it again.

Bojči ♥️: This is not fair... Bojči ♥️: Anything I could send you could never be as good as what you send me Bojči ♥️: I'm okay, it's just that :(... Bojči ♥️: Why are you so perfect? Bojči ♥️: Why are you, even sick, still being so.... Bojči ♥️: iwdjwdbsjjsbs Bojči ♥️: I'm so lucky :( Bojči ♥️: I date the prettiest and most perfect person in the whole wide world! Kris Guštin: that's very sweet of you. Bojči ♥️: but I have some suggestions ;) Kris Guštin: Oh? Enlighten me Bojči ♥️ is calling...

♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩

Idk what to write here...cue fanfiction?

Polaroid Photos Universe | Recommended next: Conspiracy Theories (Alternative Ending)

[chimerickat]

For the trope question, interrupted kisses are always fun if a little frustrating !

Five times Seto Kaiba seems like he wants to kiss you, and the one time he kisses you.

Either keep reading below the cut, or on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43853316

One.

When you hear a knock on the front door of the store, you're ready to disappear into the backroom. The store is closed, and you’re just cleaning up for the night.

But then you glance at the door and see Seto Kaiba standing on the other side of the glass. He isn't just any customer so you hurry over to unlock the front door and let him in.

"Hi Kaiba. Yugi isn't here at the moment." You know he and Yugi are friendly, but Yugi is on a date. It's why he asked you to close up the shop for him.

"I'm aware." Kaiba stares down at you. "Yugi said I could still come by to pick up some new booster packs."

“Oh cool.” It would have been nice if Yugi had mentioned that plan to you. “Let me check if he has anything set aside for you.”

Kaiba follows you to the register. Underneath sit the special orders, but you don’t see anything with Kaiba’s name on it.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I can try to text him if you want?”

He grunts and stares at you. After a moment, you assume that, yes, you should text Yugi.

“Kaiba is here after close expecting booster packs? Please help! I didn’t agree to this!!!”

After you hit send, you realize that you need to stand around waiting for Yugi to respond. “Are there any cards you’re looking for with the new boosters?”

Kaiba raises his eyebrow. “Why else would I bother buying them?”

“Right.” You sigh. “Well if you don’t want to participate in polite conversation, I’ve got a register to deal with.” You wave at the rest of the store. “Feel free to wait wherever.”

You ignore him, not wanting to see his reaction, as you open the cash drawer and begin to close for the night. The task requires your focus as normally Yugi or his Grandpa do the job, and you don’t want to screw it up. By the time you’re done, Kaiba is working at a table and Yugi has responded to your text.

"sorry!"

"told him i wouldnt be there"

"thought he wasnt going"

"just let him get w/e from back room"

Right. Well you can't be too mad at Yugi. His date tonight had been his focus. "Hey, Kaiba?" He looks up. "Yugi says you can collect your packs from the back room."

"Fine." His focus turns back to his laptop. He keeps typing. You wait for him to put his laptop away. He doesn't.

"You can pick out the booster packs now."

"I'll do it once I've finished this," he says without looking up.

You look at the time. Yugi absolutely owes you overtime, but you won't ever close the shop for him again. "Kaiba, I'm leaving. You can either let me unlock the storage room for you now, or you can hang out here and wait for Yugi."

He looks up and narrows his eyes. "I waited on you, and my time is worth significantly more than yours."

"Are you trying for insulting or a guilt trip? You can't do both."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm pointing out that you're being unreasonable."

You stare at him. The sheer audacity of Seto Kaiba calling you unreasonable has you shocked into silence. He wouldn't know reasonable behavior if it showed up in a Blue Eyes White Dragon car.

You are about to say as much to him, but he shuts his laptop and puts it back in his briefcase. Then he stands up and waves his hand forward, inviting you to lead the way.

You bite your lip and lead him to the back storage room. The new booster packs technically aren't supposed to launch until later in the week, but of course, Kame Game already has their shipment.

You look through boxes for the new boosters. Most of the boxes sitting out are already half-empty. Yugi restocked the floor this morning, and you intended to restock after close before Kaiba crashed the party.

"He must have put the boosters out of the way," you say. "Let me get the step ladder."

"I could still be working, but again, you're wasting my time."

"Next time, make sure you come when Yugi is here then." You pull the step ladder out from the closet and over to the main shelves. Then you start pulling the boxes out just enough to check their contents until you find one full of booster packs. "Got it!"

You hold the box with one hand and the shelf with the other as you ease yourself back to the ground. Then you hand the box out to him. "Okay, Yugi says take whatever you want."

He grabs a bunch of packs. "Add them to my tab." Then he lifts the box and places it back on the shelf.

"Show off," you mutter.

He smirks and looks down on you. He's already standing close, but he takes a step closer. "Next time, I'll be sure to come when Yugi isn't around."

You have to think twice about what he's saying before it clicks. Even then, it doesn't quite make sense. He leans toward you, still smirking.

Then one of the disturbed boxes tilts, and you watch as a bunch of action figures fall onto Kaiba's head. Some of them hit you as well, but he gets the majority of the damage.

He curses and storms out without looking your way.

Two.

When Kaiba walks into your favorite coffee shop as you're waiting for your drink, you wonder if you should pretend that you don't see him. You've replayed the moment in the storage room over and over, and you think he had been about to kiss you.

You're also sure that you're making it all up. Seto Kaiba would have no reason to kiss you. Especially not after you'd spent the whole time being rude to him.

He notices you before you can make up your mind. The moment his eyes meet yours, you know that you can't ignore him. You smile and wave. Then you turn back to the bar, hoping your drink will be ready soon.

Kaiba walks over to the bar, briefly speaks with the barista, and is presented his drink. Of course he orders ahead. You're not even surprised.

Then he approaches you instead of leaving.

"So you'll wait for a drink but not for me to finish my work."

"Waiting for your coffee is pretty standard practice for most people, Kaiba. We're not all important men who run the city like you are."

He raises an eyebrow. "The app to order ahead is available to everyone."

Right. Of course he used an app. You don't know why you thought his assistant called ahead to ensure his drink would be ready.

He smirks. "This isn't the way I imagined shutting you up, but it'll work for now."

Oh. He couldn't possibly mean...? You can feel the surprise showing on your face, but you can't help it.

Then you hear the barista calling out your name. You dart around Kaiba, grab your drink, and dash to the door. He doesn't move from his spot, and you don't look back as you leave the shop.

Three.

When Mai throws a party, she goes all out. It seems like everyone she knows is present, whether she likes them or not.

But still, you're surprised when Kaiba walks up behind you and puts one hand down on the bar. He's sideways so his body is facing you, and you worry that if you turn toward him, your shoulder will hit his chest. So you turn just your head. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Kujaku blackmailed me into coming." He gets the attention of the bartender and asks for a brand of beer that you've never heard of before. Then his attention shifts back to you. "She even had the audacity to demand an expensive birthday present."

You're intrigued. "What blackmail does Mai have on you?"

"Emotional." Then he changes the subject. "This party sucks. We should leave."

"Emotional blackmail?" You consider the words as you say them out loud. "Like she made you feel guilty about not wanting to come?" It was the trick she pulled on you. You frown. That just doesn't seem like Kaiba, but maybe he likes Mai more than you thought.

"No." He doesn't say anything further.

You turn on your barstool, ready to hop off in search of the birthday girl. Maybe she'll let you in on her secret blackmail.

Then Kaiba blocks you. "Where are you going?" he demands to know.

His hands lean on the bar on either side of you. You would have to duck underneath his arms to get away. Instead you put a hand on his chest, ready to push. "I was going to look for Mai?"

"So she can introduce you to someone?"

"What...?"

He's leaning forward on the bar. His face is close to yours. His blue eyes seem to be studying you. "Leave the party with me."

"Are you asking me to go home with you?" you blurt out before you can think about the words.

He's looking at your lips. You can tell he's looking at your lips. Then one of his hands comes up to cup your chin. "Yes."

"KAIBA! Give 'er some space."

Kaiba stands upright and spins around to face Jonouchi. "Mind your own business, mutt."

You slip off the barstool and disappear into the crowd, intent on avoiding their fight and finding Mai.

Four. 

You look up from your book to see Kaiba standing in front of you. He startles you. "Hey, Kaiba. Yugi is upstairs." 

"Hn." He steps closer to you and looks at your book. 

You pull the book closer to your body, keeping the cover out of sight. "It's just something Anzu loaned to me." That's true. She did loan it to you, insisting it was amazing. However, you don't want to defend your reading choices to Kaiba. You hope throwing Anzu's name into the mix will keep him quiet. 

"A treaty on friendship?" 

You stare at him for a moment, trying to understand... then you realize he's making a joke. You smile. "I think she saves all of her friendship pamphlets for you."

He raises an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware she wanted my friendship."

"She probably doesn't." You shrug. It's no secret that Anzu is one snarky comment away from trying to deck Kaiba. "But you and Yugi are friends so I'm sure she'd like to get along." 

"What about you?" He's suddenly in your space, leaning on the chair you're sitting in. His eyes lock onto yours.

You look for an escape, but short of sliding down between his legs, you have nowhere to go. "What about me?" 

"What kind of relationship do you want with me?" 

It's a bold question. You can hear Mai in the back of your head, saying he likes you. She said the only reason he came to her party was to be sure she didn't set you up with someone. Yugi even mentioned that Kaiba talked about you more than anyone else. 

And now he's leaning down like he's going to kiss you. 

"Hey, Kaiba--WHOOPS!" 

Kaiba steps back at Yugi's shout. You take that opportunity to stand up from the chair and back away. 

Yugi's face reddens as he looks between the two of you. "Did I interrupt?" 

"No," you say before Yugi can finish, before Kaiba can say anything himself. Then you hurry away for the backroom. You can pretend to be busy there. 

Five.

As you push open the front door for Kame Game, you feel the chilly night air rush past you. Yugi keeps the shop warm and comforting so it's an unpleasant surprise. You step out of the shop, wishing you had warmer clothing. You keep forgetting to bring a jacket for your evening walk home, and you know you'll be freezing by the time your bus arrives.

Still, you carry on to the bus stop. If you wait inside the shop, you run the risk of missing the bus if it shows up early. As much as you like Yugi, you don't want to hang around waiting for another bus if you miss your usual line.

At the stop, you try to curl into yourself as much as possible to keep warm. It doesn't work.

Then a car pulls up to the stop. The windows are tinted so you can't see who is inside, and thoughts of kidnapping rush through your brain. Do you have a weapon on you? Can you just run back to the game shop?

The window rolls down. Kaiba is alone in the car. "Get in," he says.

It's late and cold. Kaiba isn't a stranger. You don't waste time pretending to protest. You pull open the passenger door and get into his car. "Thanks for the ride home."

"We're having dinner first," he says as the car pulls away from the curb.

"Generally you ask people to go on dates with you. I think abducting them off the street is frowned on."

He frowns. "You willingly got into my car."

"I think it made sense to assume you were driving me home."

"Well I'm driving you to my home."

Your eyes narrow. "I thought you said we were going to have dinner?"

"Yes, in the privacy of my home, with the best chef in the city."

The car stays silent. You study Kaiba while he drives. He glances over and catches you staring. You try not to look away even as you feel your face warm up. He doesn't comment on it and focuses back on the road ahead.

When he pulls up to his mansion, he stops his car in front of the entrance. After he turns the engine off, he reaches for his seatbelt. You put your hand on his, getting his attention. "How long have you wanted to ask me out?" You're teasing him. He deserves it for not properly asking you on a date. "Please tell me you haven't been stalking me, waiting for a chance to lure me into your car."

"Of course not!" He pulls away from you and gets out of the car. You push open your door and get out.

"What if I'm already seeing someone?"

He glares as he approaches you. "Are you?"

"No." You shrug. "I'm just pointing out that you haven't asked me out yet so you're making a lot of assumptions here."

He cups your face with his hands. "No. I don't think I am." Then he leans down to kiss you.

"Seto!" He pulls away with a groan. Then he turns to face the building. Mokuba bounces down the stairs toward the two of you. His long hair is tied up in a ponytail and he's wearing an oversized sweatshirt.

He stops with a grin. "I see you've finally brought your girlfriend over."

"I'm not his girlfriend."

"You are," Kaiba corrects.

"That's news to me. Since when?"

Kaiba glares at the ground for a moment while Mokuba tries to hide his grin behind his hand. "Since right now."

"We'll see." You smile at Mokuba. "Do I get a tour?"

So Mokuba leads you on a tour of the mansion. He shows off the movie theater and game rooms, clearly his favorite rooms, but also the massive kitchen and library. Then he insists on sitting next to you at the dining room table.

Dinner turns into more of a hang out with Mokuba rather than a date with Kaiba. Kaiba doesn't say much and allows Mokuba to interrogate you.

"Mokuba, isn't it your bedtime?" Kaiba says once the table is cleared.

"I don't have a bedtime!"

Kaiba glares at his brother. "Tonight you do."

Mokuba rolls his eyes. "You can just tell me you want to be alone with your girlfriend."

"Just go to bed."

You interrupt their argument. "Actually, I need to get home." Kaiba never said he would drive you home, but you hope he intends to help you get there. His mansion is too removed from the city for public transport to be an easy option this time of night.

"I'll take you." Kaiba stands and offers you his hand. You take it as you stand as well. 

As you say goodbye to Mokuba, he smirks, looking just like his brother. "Don't let my brother sleep over. He's a bed hog." 

"MOKUBA!" Kaiba grabs your hand and tugs you out of the dining room. He mutters something about his brother being grounded, but you're too shocked to catch his exact words. 

Once the two of you make it back to his car, he opens the door for you and waits for you to get in before closing it and walking around to the other side. He gets in the car and starts the engine. As he speeds out of the mansion grounds, you wonder if his staff has ever failed to open the gates in time. 

Then you wonder exactly what he's said about you to his brother. "You know, you still haven't asked me to go out with you or date you or anything." 

He frowns. "Fine. You're free to object to dating at any point." 

Your eyes narrow. What is his objection to asking questions? "Fine. I object." 

The look he shoots you is offended and shocked. As if he can't fathom anyone objecting. 

"We've never even kissed," you point out. "Tonight really doesn't even count as a date." If he's going to be difficult, then you can be difficult too. 

He grits his teeth. Then he pulls over and the car jerks to a stop. For a moment, you think it's because of what you've said. Then you realize he's just pulling up to your place. 

When did you give him your address? You must have at some point. 

He opens the door for you and helps you out of the car. He holds your hand as he slams the car door shut. 

Then he pins you against his car. Your back is against the car door. His body presses against yours. One hand holds your head while the other slides down your side until it reaches your hip. 

He kisses you. His lips press against yours, and he controls the angle by adjusting your head with his hand. 

He pulls away with a smirk. "Now we've kissed, and tomorrow night, I'll take you out." 

He walks you to your door. You have your key in the lock before you realize he still hasn't asked you anything. You turn to see him walking back to his car. "I never agreed to anything!" 

"I'll still be back tomorrow." 

Then he gets in his car. He starts the engine, and you expect him to drive off, but he just sits there and waits. 

You realize he's waiting for you to get inside before he leaves. Just like a boyfriend. 

[akwolfgrl]

LFT PART 37

Sanji made his last round inside his galley, Mr. Noodles sat perched on a bar stool watching him. The roses that Zoro got him were still sitting in the jar where he left them. He needed to figure out what he wanted to do with them. Sanji slid some butter into his apron pocket to soften.

Sanji finished unloading everything he had bought at the market this morning. There were still a few cartes of things waiting for him to deconstruct. Sanji had scored a crate of fresh unwashed eggs. He would water glass them later tonight. He left out the stuff he needed to make a batch of kimchi and a new marinade for Luffy's jerky. The meat was in the freezer to firm up for easier slicing. He also left out the prime rib he got on sale for dinner tonight. He had the perfect seasoning for them.

Sanji cut the core of napa cabbages out, placing them into the bucket he was using for a compost pile, they used to have one on the Baratie they would give it to a local farmer who they worked with to get fresh produce. There were things that even he could not salvage and use, but the compost was a good compromise since it fertilized and grew more food. He split the leafy vegetable apart with his hands. It was hard to get used to such a quiet kitchen. He was used to the hustle and bustle of the Baratie. The chefs arguing, the waiters yelling out food orders. Everything about the kitchen was loud and controlled chaos. Well, Sanji did sort of miss having someone he could talk to.

“OK so I know you're a cat, and you don't understand what I'm saying, but I don't care. Right now, I'm making kimchi. It's spicy, sour, and so good. A chef who used to work at the Baratie before settling ashore and marrying a sweet woman showed me how to make it,” Sanji began to chop the pieces of cabbage up. “I'm doing the shortcut method. Usually, you don't chop it up, but I like it better this way,” Sanji put all the cabbage into the large bowl. “Then we just wash and salt the cabbage until it wilts and the water from the inside of the cabbage is drawn out by the salt,” Sanji would leave it overnight with something heavy on top.

Mr. Noodles had at some point hopped from his stool to wind his way around Sanji's legs purring. He was ecstatic to have something small and cute to care for. Clementine may have been Zeff’s cat but she did like him and barely tolerated the other chefs. It had been his job to brush her long silky golden fur. She had been a very pretty kitty, with one gold eye and one blue. Mr. Noodles was of course very handsome with his soft slick black fur.

“Zeff my old man, although I'd never call him that to his face, had a ship cat, her name was Clementine,” Sanji took out the bowl he used previously for the marinade. Mixing soy sauce, worcestershire, orange juice, and zest , he whisked in honey, brown sugar, grated ginger, and chopped garlic. He threw some habaneros into his mortar and grinded them down into a nice paste before adding them as well. “I remember the look on Zeff’s face after we got off the Rock. Clementine had gotten off their pirate ship shortly before they attacked the Orbit. It's said that cats can sense doom. Anyway, we stayed on an island while we recovered, and one day, she walked right up to Zeff as if she had only been out for a stroll. She died shortly before Luffy came crashing in. Zeff had been practically testy lately, so that didn't help him at all,” Sanji covered the marinade and placed it into the fridge.

“I think after I'm done with my prep, I'll head back out for some personal shopping and check out the fish market. Maybe I'll be nice to our sentient plant life and pick up a sword cleaning kit. He doesn't have much money and would be more focused on buying swords. Why he needs three? I'm not sure, but that's his thing, I suppose,” Sanji took a paper towel to dry the prime ribs, or else it would reject the butter. He stabbed holes into the top of the meat. While he did know how to trim meat, it had come pre-trimmed and on sale to good of a deal to pass up. “I haven't seen him use it at all while we've been on this ship and there's no way that his sword hasn't been well kept in the past,” He took the softened butter out of his pocket and upwarped it, placing it into a small bowl. “Maybe I'll grab some ink for Nami-swan! I can't get Marimo and not my sweet Nami,” Sanji tossed in chopped rosemary and thyme, salt, pepper, Dijon mustard, and a bit of worcestershire then he mixed it. “I should pick another notebook while I'm out, I might as well grab something for Luffy and Usopp while I'm at it. Just so I don't have to hear them whining.”

Sanji stabbed holes into the fatty part of the meat and used butter to lube up the sliced garlic and rosemary, slipping them into the holes. He coated the prime ribs in the rest of the butter before placing them in the fridge. After a quick clean-up, Sanji was ready to head out. With a goodbye scratch to Mr. Noodles Sanji left the Going Merry

[fritextramole]

cheap wine in expensive glasses

part 3 of a Dan Humphrey playlist - best heard in order

tracklist and quotes under the cut

Wildwood Flower ~ June Carter Cash

I will dance, I will sing and my laugh shall be gay I will charm every heart, in his crown I will sway When I awoke from my dreaming my idol was clay All portion of love had all flown away

Tonight I Feel Like Kafka ~ Jealous of the Birds

Wake up tomorrow and my room's the same Wanna pierce my nipples and go dancin' in the rain No more cyanide kisses, I'm methylene blue

Magnolia ~ The Essentialists

Hey Magnolia what's on your mind And I was thinking I was thinking we could make it this time But you're gone

Undo ~ The 1975

No, I didn't even see you when I liked you No, now I ain't got no time Girl, I wanna see you undo it

Saw You in a Dream ~ The Japanese House

I saw you in a dream You had stayed the same You were beckoning me Said that I had changed

Sweet Strange Days ~ Kate Lomas

Like a sweet teen straight outta school I’m under the influence And I really really like it

Devil Town ~ Cavetown

Hold my hand tight, we'll make it another night I still get a little scared of something new But I feel a little safer when I'm with you Falling doesn't feel so bad when I know you've fallen this way too We're all dead in Devil Town

Kiss Her You Fool ~ Kids That Fly

Don't be afraid, dreams aren't found they're made

Cecilia And The Satellite ~ Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness

I locked myself in a hotel room Then waited all night for the walls to move I loved some girls that I barely knew I've made some friends, and I've lost some, too

White Wedding - Pt. 1 ~ Billy Idol

Take me back home, yeah Hey little sister, what have you done?

I'm a Mess ~ Ed Sheeran

Late last night Drinking to suppress devotion With fingers intertwined I can't shake this feeling now

You Already Know ~ Bombay Bicycle Club, Kathryn Williams

One more bus home, another silent weekend You said love was painted gold Like all things growing old The paint peels and slowly falls

Grandma's Hands ~ Bill Withers

But I don't have grandma anymore If I get to heaven I'll look for Grandma's hands

Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) ~ John Lennon

I can hardly wait To see you come of age But I guess we'll both just have to be patient 'Cause it's a long way to go

Keep An Eye On Dan ~ ABBA

And he loves his dad And I loved him too

Smoke Signals ~ Cavetown, Tessa Violet

I wanna live at the Holiday Inn Where somebody else makes the bed We'll watch TV while the lights on the street Put all the stars to death It's been on my mind since Bowie died Just checking out to hide from life And all of our problems, I'm gonna solve 'em With you ridin' shotgun

Tonight ~ Richard Hawley

Might take the car up to the hills, and watch the city lights below

Sweet Jane ~ Garrett Kato

Smokey days Hanging outside in the pouring rain Feelin' like the home where you once stayed Has washed away

Cursive ~ Billie Marten

I'd walk the corners Of my empty mind But I'm full of darkness With the loneliest of light And we'll be fine, there is an end It hurts to fall back again

In Time ~ Dizzy

You and I, like black and white We don't see eye to eye But two wrongs don't make it right Will never make it right I'm missing the way it was We were wrapped up in a teenage buzz