#but now i'm thinking about calling him home fry

[heartofstanding]

sometimes I genuinely consider changing the way i spell Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester’s name to Humfrey.

[clockwayswrites]

Birdritch part 2 Yeah, there's a subscription post now...

Danny pulled another sweet potato fry from his bag before refolding the top to keep it warm. He’d finish all the fries before he even got home, he knew that, but that was future him’s problem. Right then being able to munch on the sweet, salty goodness as he took a shortcut through the park was just what he needed. There was something about Robinson park that always settled him.

It was probably because of the park’s wild, otherworldly nature that came from Poison Ivy’s control. It almost felt ghostly in how unreal it was. It was another thing Danny tried not to think too hard on and just enjoyed. It wasn’t that Danny was ignoring the fact that he was half ghost (as he always tried to convince himself), he just wasn’t dwelling on it anymore. Ghosts had consumed his life for so long and he needed a break.

Even before his accident (it was easier to just call it an accident when people asked about his scars), his parent’s obsession controlled their house, family, and lives. He got now that it wasn’t normal to grow up not cooking because the food might eat you. Or because your parents were too busy in the basement lab to remember. His time away from Amity Park in college made Danny realize that Jazz and his childhood had been at best unsafe and at worst negligent.

It had taken Danny a lot of therapy to be able to say those words.

Being honest, Danny still needed a lot of therapy, but there was only so much progress he could make when he couldn’t really explain that he was half dead and had spent the end of his childhood fighting ghosts, the government, and his parents. He was half tempted to try and track down Harley Quinn and see if she was up to taking on a new patient. (Danny was pretty sure that she wouldn’t rat him out to the authorities.)

A vine thrashed suddenly in front of Danny, hitting the sidewalk with a meaty thump.

Danny froze.

Fuck.

His phone was out of power.

He couldn’t check if something was going on in the park.

While Poison Ivy was much more Pamela Isley than rogue these days, as seen by the city just letting her have control of much of the park, she was still temperamental and the right— or wrong— sort of thing could set her and her plants off. (Sometimes the plants went off on their own. Everyone knew not to be a sleaze bag in Robinson park.)

Slowly Danny started to back up.

Several more vines wretched themselves out of the ground around him.

He could hear shouting somewhere off to his left. Out of the corner of his eye he could see movement from the plants that direction.

Alright, not angry at him then.

Danny crept forward slowly, keeping his motions as calm and small as possible. Just because they plants weren’t angry at him it didn’t mean they weren’t a threat to him. His best chance was to stay on the path and head in the direction away from the noise.

And away from the over sized flowers.

Well fuckity fuck.

Most things Poison Ivy could do weren’t really a threat to Danny. He could phase away from vines, after all. But the flowers? The flowers had pollen and pollen was an unknown; one that Danny didn’t want to be known. Sam was rather certain that the pollens could effect Danny in odd and unknown ways due to his half ghost nature.

He had refused to let Sam experiment on him to figure it out. Comparing her fervor to his parent’s helped shut that idea down for good. Danny didn’t regret avoiding being a lab rat, even as he was staring down the ruby red flowers to his right. He still just had to keep his motions as calm and small as possible.

The flowers were only an issue if they let their pollen out.

Danny started to move in as wide of an arc as he could around the flowers.

While they were closed up he was safe.

Danny’s left hand spasmed.

The paper bag of food crinkled.

The flower petals unfurled.

Fuck.

---

AN: I know there are issues, another no read through late night post, but I'm getting my serotonin where I can. Stay delightful, darlings.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

TF141 getting a boudoir photo album as a wedding gift ♡

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A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN!!! Great, absolutely phenomal idea, dear anon. Simon's part is very sappy (I cried) which might be ooc for him?? Idk, that's how I write him/interpret his character! :) let me know who's your favorite 👀

~Fi ��

《Warnings》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, cunnilingus, Johnny's oral fixation (yes, that is a warning.)

It's still very sweet and lovey dovey with all of them bc I'm a certified sap <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

John would be grinning and smirking like a proper idiot when he lays his eyes on those delectable photos of you.

I imagine you had a date night at home, sipping wine on the couch and talking about your wedding that's supposed to take place in only 3 days. He's telling you how he can't wait to see you in your wedding dress and slip that ring onto your finger.

Sneaky bastard.

Be prepared to he called Mrs. Price the days leading up to the big day. John excuses it with:

"Need to practice, love. Don't wanna mess it up in front of anyone, eh?"

He knows what he's doing, you know what he's doing, all is well because if he only knew what that did to you. You're just talking, trying to get the nerves out now so you can go into your wedding with a clear mind and have a good time. When you tell him you have a gift for him, his eyebrows almost overshoot his forehead. Yeah, he knew that was a thing some people did, but he never gave it another thought.

In all honesty, marrying you was the best gift he could ever get. Which is why he feels slightly guilty that he doesn't have one for you (at least that's what you see, internally he's crushed) but that all goes out the window when you sit back down with a sleek beige photo album that has a little romantic quote on the front.

What he doesn't expect, however, is the angelic image of your plush body on full display, draped over a velvet chaise lounge with layered pearl necklaces hanging from your neck. This man is shell-shocked. If he wasn't frozen in place, he would've snapped the book shut.

"And what's this, doll, hm?"

His heart feels warm and fuzzy, thinking these are some lovely pictures of you together on holidays you went on, casual trips to the local pub or just some domestic shots you managed to sneak during his leave.

You can basically see the connections to his brain frying. His jaw slacks, and only after what feels like 10 minutes he regains his ability to think and close his mouth. John is sweating and his cock is rock hard as he flips through the remaining pages.

He shoots you the occasional glance while he's trying not to hyperventilate. You just sit back and savor your wine, trying to hide your laugh behind the rim of your glass. You'd expected a reaction, of course, but you didn't think you'd render the John Price speechless just from a few suggestive photographs of you.

But what absolutely breaks the camels back (or John's, in this case) is the last picture of you. You're kneeling, slightly leaned back and supported by your arms, with one of his Flannels covering your soft tits. That alone would've been enough to drive him crazy, but the sight of his old dogtags sitting against your sternum has him groaning out loud.

The only other thing covering you is a simple pair of lace panties, cupping the soft curve and rolls of your tummy so beautifully, John was ready to take a bit out of that damn page.

He nearly misses the inscription underneath the photo;

To my John; the love of my life, the man of my dreams,

I love you.

You hold my heart and you will forever.

May I be so lucky to find my place in the stars by your side when the time comes, so we'll never have to be apart.

With all my love,

Mrs. Price

And that does it. The album snaps shut and you barely have time to put down your wine glass before John is all over you, taking handfuls of you, whatever he can reach. With how fast he smashes his lips on yours, he nearly gives you whiplash.

He's tugging and pulling at your clothes as well as his own, not saying a thing, just hungrily swallowing every one of your sounds and giggled objections before he decides the couch is uncomfortable and he moves you to the bedroom. You're hoisted up without a warning and you cling to his neck. Immediately, worried words start spilling from your lips, remembering how he'd complained about a sore back just today;

"John, baby, your back-"

"I don't give a flying fuck about my back, love."

He's heaving and grunting like a fucking animal, he's downright feral. Despite all of that, you're still laid down gently on the bed, John would never, ever be reckless with you. But he needs to be inside you now, he'll actually lose his mind.

Usually, he'd spent hours between your thighs first, but he just can't wait. He's pounding you into another dimension but with such gentleness in his gestures, it makes your head spin.

He's holding your hand, breathing sweet praises into your ear despite him filling you to the brim. His urge to claim you goes haywire and he fills you with his cum multiple times before he's sane enough again.

He's covered in sweat and his beard is wet from your spit from all the sloppy kisses he gave you. John will definitely make it up to you and eat you out for as long as you want after.

He'll make a copy of one of the photos and take it with him when he's on deployment, just for the nights he's feeling lonely.

His wedding gift to you are the hickeys on your thighs and tummy and new sheets because you two tore the other ones to absolute shreds.

♥︎

Johnny would probably have a boudoir album for you, too. You get at least one shirtless pic a day, so a whole album of his body on display or in suggestive poses basically screams Johnny. He's already drooling the second he spots that book because he knows what it is and that he's in for a treat.

He's buzzing with excitment.

You never really send nudes for privacy reasons, and then for you to do something like this hit him like a truck in the best way possible. You're standing opposite from him behind the kitchen counter, and you look so nervous to him.

Cue his signature shit-eating grin. You tap your fingers on the dark blue album before having enough of your nerves and just sliding it over to him with a few mumbled words of what it is.

"Awe, for me, mo leannan?" He's a teasing bastard, and he chuckles when you huff and turn your head, obviously flustered. Johnny is legit licking his lips, but when he opens the book, his grin fades so fast.

He knew it would be good, but holy shit, this was so much better than he expected. His pupils dilate as he takes in each of the pictures of you, all of you, all your curves and bumps.

Everything he loves about you. God, you're such a woman, he thinks to himself. Some with lingerie, some without. He's full on drooling at this point, and the only reason why he roughly wipes it away with the back of his hand is to not get it on these sacred images.

He smirks at the picture of you in a tub, all soapy, with pebbled nipples. An obvious dig at his nickname, but, god, does your ass look amazing when it's covered in a thin layer of bubbles. He loves lathering you up in the shower and feeling you up while you're all wet and slippery.

"Good thing I can hold my breath, aye, hen? Might even try to set a new personal record." He's grinning and chuckling meanwhile you give him a sharp glare. You can't deny that the idea intrigues you, though.

But this, oh, this one was him swallowing thickly. It's you in very sheer panties (they're barely even underwear) and his name patch is sewn onto the front. Your hair looks so nice, so do your thighs, he doesn't know whether to look at your eyes or your tits. The button on his jeans is about to pop off from his throbbing boner.

He can't take his eyes off that 'MacTavish' patch that sits right on your lower belly, with the slight curve it has to it from your soft tummy.

Johnny has to hold himself back from gripping the book too hard. He wouldn't want to ruin it.

"Steamin' bloody Jesus, bonnie..."

The album is shut and tucked under his arm, and Johnny jumps over the counter to get his hands on you. Or his mouth, more like. He has a huge oral fixation, so he loves sucking and biting on every inch of your skin. You're pushed back into the bedroom, even though you end up on the floor, and the book is thrown onto the bed.

He rips your shirt up and sucks at your tits and nipples, groaning and moaning at the taste of your skin, all while he's rubbing his clothes cock against your leg. You end up on your hands and knees with one of Johnny's hands on your lowerback while his face is buried in your cunt.

He's eating you out like he's been starved for years, and his stubble is already starting to irritate the skin of your thighs and ass.

You'll have the worst case of beard burn in the morning, but how could you care about that when his tongue is so deep inside of you?

Remember when I said he'd have a boudoir album too? Yeah, now you're in between his legs, your back pressed to his chest with Johnny's album in your shaky hands. And the way your engagement ring catches the dim light of the room has your eyes rolling back.

And Jesus christ, Johnny looks fucking phenomal. You clench around his fingers hard, and he doesn't even have to pull his head from your neck to know what photo you're looking at.

He's smirking and grinning like the ceshire cat, knowing that the image of him in a kilt with no shirt one is gracing your field of vision right about now.

"Ah knew ye'd like tha' one, bonnie..."

Johnny's cooing in your ear, telling you to keep looking at the pictures while he's knuckle deep in your pussy. His bare dick is pressed against your ass and you can feel him rocking his hips to get off.

He's mumbling all kinds of gibberish into your ear, but one of the few things you can make out is "mo bhean"* which pushes you over the edge. You won't be leaving that bed anytime soon.

*(My wife)

♥︎

Kyle is such a sweetheart. I've said it before, and I will say it again, he's such a cutie pie!!! But that doesn't mean he can't or won't get nasty.

He'd offered to make lunch, which was delicious as always, and now you're chatting casually about your day at your dining table. Your fingers are laced together, and he's wearing the biggest smile because all he can think of is how he gets to marry you in just a few days.

He's over the moon. He can't wait to see you walk down the aisle, say your vows to each other, and overall have a great time with all your friends and family.

But the thing Kyle is looking forward the most is the honeymoon. He'll have you to himself for 2 whole weeks and he's stoked. He can't wait to treat you to nice things, love on you, but he's the most excited to fuck you as your husband.

He may look sweet and 'innocent' but this man can fuck, okay. And he fucks well. He knows every little spot that has you mewling and he's so good at using them for his gain.

Kyle will fuck you into the mattress in the Hotel you booked, he's already made up his mind about that, but he wants to absolutely melt your brain by being so loving whole doing it that you can't help but cry out for him.

He has heart eyes at this point, watching you talk about all that happened today and he only snaps out of his dream world when you present the deep red album to him with a sweet smile.

He's got a hunch of what it is so there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. Still, he almost gets whiplash when he opens it.

There's no easing into it, just straight up tits, ass and tummy. And let me tell you, Kyle is loving every second of it. It's no secret that he loves your chub, and that fact that it's extenuated so beautifully in every shot makes his heart and his cock happy. He's a very balanced man after all.

He comments on every single photo because he think it's endearing how you get all flustered and giggly from his compliments.

One picture that has him taking a second, though, is one where you have a lacy band tied around your thigh, with a little golden 'Kyle' charm hanging from it. He's all smiley and giddy, but he does try to discreet adjust his trousers because, holy shit, that's hot.

"Have you still got that, dove? Would love to see it tied around your pretty neck."

All you answer is that he'll have to be patient and wait till the wedding night to find out. He's laughing and teasing now, but just what till you get to the last page, Gazy.

And the way his smile just melts off his face is priceless. His gaze is flitting between you on the page and you sitting across from him with a shot eating grin. All the blood that drained from his face went straight to his dick.

Not only are you wearing a set of lingerie in his favorite color, but you've got his iconic pair of sunglasses hooked on the center of your bra. And that's not all either, his eyes travel upwards and his base cap is sat on your head and you've got that beautiful smile of yours on your face.

He makes an audible noise, one that indicates you took his breath away, when he takes in the whole picture.

"How in hell did you manage to snatch my hat and my glasses from right under my nose?!"

"Skilled hands, babe."

He's laughing at you breathlessly because he's still enarmoured by the sight of you.

And Kyle will absolutely whisk you away and fuck you stupid in front of your bedroom mirror while you're wearing his hat.

It makes him feral, seeing you like that. He's got both of his arms wrapped around your middle and he's panting into your shoulder. He does look up from time to time to see your blissed out face all while still wearing his cap.

He lets out a strained moan everytime he looks at you in the mirror and his hips stutter ever so slightly.

Kyle is just spewing jumbled words of love because he's genuinely so happy. You make him so happy.

He honestly can't wait to give you your wedding gift. It's a little booklet filled with poems or quotes that reminded him of you, or of how you make him feel. And it will make you cry when he reads them to you.

Definitely not because he'll be ballsdeep inside of you while doing so...

♥︎

Simon, Simon, Simon.... first of all, he's completely blindsided by this. And he hasn't got a fucking clue what's in that black book you hand him one night when you're cuddling in bed.

There's just a giant question mark above his head. When you tell him it's a wedding gift, he goes silent and just looks at that album in his hands.

He never really got gifts, which obviously changed since he's been with you, but he's still not used to it. You're so thoughtful. And sweet. And kind, and perfect and-

he turns his head to you when you softly call his name and if you notice the slight sheen of tears in his big brown eyes, you don't mention it. You just encourage him to open the book. And when he does, a small huff and gentle smile leave him because how are you so perfect?

Yes, all of the pictures are all filthy, but they're all radiating of love and softness, and he can't get over it. How are you so soft? Simon can't get enough of you. You mess up his emotions in ways he never thought possible, and he can't help that his heart starts beating twice as fast.

That you did this for him means more than you could ever fathom, and he'll treasure this album until his end. He absent mindedly reaches for your hand as he flips through the pages, trying to tell you thank you when his words fail him, like they did so many times before with you.

He comes across a shot of your neck, a black leather collared fasten around it with a little silver skull charm. It makes him smile just a bit. He knows just how much meaning is behind it.

That you love him. All of him, which includes the Ghost. In cursive, 'Riley' is written right above your heart, and he gives your hand a squeeze.

Although you love the Ghost because it's a part of him, you've shown him that it's not all he is. That Simon is enough. That he should give Simon a chance and that he's not incapable anymore, like he was as a little boy. Ghost is sort of a protector of Simon, something not many people know, that's why he wears the mask outside of duty too. To shield himself.

But as much as the Ghost's service is appreciated, Simon can handle himself now. The Ghost will forever be with him, but so will you, and you'll wipe his bloody hands with a smile. You've shown him that you accept Ghost just as much as you accept Simon, and that means the world to him.

He sniffles ever so quietly, and you lean your head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He moves on, gently turning the pages, and as much as his heart is touched by your kind gesture of this album, that doesn't stop his cock from stirring. It's pictures of your naked form, after all.

He loves every single inch of you and he's told you and shown you so many times, kissed all your insecurities away and took your mind off any bad thoughts about yourself by fucking you so well and lovingly to the point of tears.

Never, in a million years, had he expected you to return these efforts. You kissed all his scars and held him softly when reassuring any doubts he had. That's when he truly and fully fell in love with you.

He can feel himself getting hotter with every passing image of your soft body bent in different positions and clad in delicate garments, if any.

The best for last, as always, and it's a picture of you kneeling in front of a mirror, completely nude. A picture of Simon in full military regalia is tapped to the mirror and it's surrounded by a bunch of hearts drawn on with lipstick.

His name is written under the picture in your handwriting, and he can see you holding a lipstick, in the middle of finishing another heart. His breath hitches just for a split second.

He swears he'll burn this photo into the back of his eyelids.

It shows him just how great and raw your love for him is, and it makes him all fuzzy on the inside. The text at the bottom finishes it all off, and he's actively holding back tears, overwhelmed by so many feelings for you.

Dear Husband,

We're flawed; but that's how I like us. You're you, and I'm me, and I wouldn't change it for the world. You've made me a better version of myself, and that makes me love you so much more. I'm so proud of you, Simmy.

Love,

Your wife

"Thank you, my love. Thank you for this, and for loving me and for everything you've done for me. I love you"

His words are soft and painfully honest as he gently sets the album aside. You've made him a better man. A better Simon. A happier Simon. A Simon that's slowly starting to heal.

It starts off with a soft kiss that slowly turns more desperate and needy to the point you're gently being pushed back onto the bed, your clothes are discarded, and Simon absolutely worships you. He kisses every inch he can reach and touching you in all the ways he knows you like.

And, yeah, Simon can be rough and fuck you stupid for hours, but tonight, he just wants to feel close to you, and make you feel as good as you make him feel by simply loving him. He's talking you through it, holding you while he makes sure you take every inch of his cock.

His strokes are slow and deep, just like his love for you, and he revels in the way your eyes roll back each time he slides into you to the hilt. The drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning and whining, and when he presses down on your pudgy lower belly to intensify the sensation, you're putty.

You two fuck the whole night like this, no matter how sensitive you are, you need to be close to each other.

And in the morning, he'll wake you up with his face buried in your pussy because he's out of his sappy mood and his only goal now is to absolutely ruin you.

♡

Bonus: I can totally see Simon giving his dad the biggest middle finger known to man all the way in hell when he's standing by the altar on your wedding day. It just screams: 'fuck you, stupidly bastard. Despite all you've done to me and my family, despite all that's happened, I've persevered. I've overcome it all. Look at me now.'

Right after he's smiling up at the sky, knowing that his mum and brother are watching and that they would've loved you just as much as he does <3

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I hope you enjoyed!! I love all my boys <3

(If you find any typos, it's 2.am. give me a break pls)

[heich0e]

rintarou's sheets are scratchy.

they're new, and haven't yet gone through the wash enough times to properly soften. they haven't been slept on enough times to be fully broken in. you know he bought them because you always used to tease him about his old sheets: faded with some holes in them—a mismatched fitted sheet and top sheet in two different shades of blue, unbefitting of a grown man making grown man money.

so, he got new ones.

these new sheets are green, in the exact shade you like so much—the one you always point out when the two of you are walking in the park near your office on your lunch break. he sent you a picture of the package when he got them home, fishing for praise you refused to give him for doing the bare minimum. they're nice sheets, though. expensive, organic cotton with a high thread count.

but right now, they're scratchy.

and they're irritating you as you lay tangled up in them, the top sheet wrapped around your waist like a belt and twisted around one of your bare legs. you must have been tossing and turning a lot in your sleep, because when you properly rouse from your slumber to take inventory of your surroundings, the first thing you notice is that you're practically knotted into the stiff, new cotton.

you extract yourself from the blankets, stumbling a little towards the door in a fog, and make your way from rintarou's bedroom in the direction of the kitchen.

"oh," rintarou perks up once you appear around the corner, his eyes bright when they spot you. "you're up."

you shuffle around the kitchen counter towards him, your head heavy and pounding, your mouth dry. you feel nauseated, and without thinking, you slump against him with your forehead pressing into the valley between his shoulder blades. you're confused. you're hungover. but he's warm, and smells like laundry detergent. suddenly you feel a little less queasy.

"what's going on?" you grumble into his back. you peel yourself away from him, blinking slowly, and sweep your gaze around the room to get a better sense of things.

suna holds up a frying pan and a whisk. "i'm cooking!"

you blink again. "okay?"

it's not what you meant when you asked him your first question, but rintarou simply smiles. he has an almost puppy-like personality when he gets like this—you can almost picture ears atop his head and a tail wagging happily as he stares down at you.

"how'd i get here last night?"

rintarou freezes, but only for a moment. he quickly turns his back to you again to continue on whatever misguided culinary adventure he'd been attempting before you woke up. "you were pretty drunk."

"my seniors kept egging me on," you complain, rubbing your forehead as the hazy memory surfaces from the night before. it was a company dinner you couldn't get out of, and it had quickly spiralled out of hand. "i don't even remember leaving."

rintarou laughs a little. but he still won't look at you.

"suna."

he doesn't turn, whisking something you can't identify but that you're almost certain should not be whisked in a bowl in front of him on the counter.

"suna." you repeat yourself again.

suddenly, a wave of nausea overtakes you.

no.

no.

you pat yourself down in search of your phone, but the attempt is useless. you're dressed in one of rintarou's t-shirts and boxers, neither of which come equipped with any pockets, and your phone is nowhere to be found. you whip your head around in search of it, but don't spot it anywhere in the immediate vicinity.

"hey—" rintarou finally looks at you when he senses your alarm, and his tone mirrors your own panic. "don't—!"

you swipe his cellphone off the counter in front of him, using the passcode you'd managed to weasel out of him a few months ago to unlock the device and navigate to his call log. you take off running as you tap your way through the various screens on his phone, but he's quickly in pursuit of you—leaving whatever he'd had on the stove to burn like he world's saddest funeral pyre.

"stop, stop!" rintarou is faster than you are, and has longer legs, but even by the time he catches you, you've already found what you're looking for in his call history. he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you down onto his sofa with him in the living room, and the two of you land in a tangle of limbs against the cushions, your breathing laboured.

"i didn't make this call, did i?" you ask meekly, pointing at a brief call in the late hours of the night prior that sits at the top of his call history. it's from your number, but you're confident you hadn't been the one to dial.

rintarou pouts a little bit, avoiding your eyes. after a moment he shakes his head. you groan, rolling over on the sofa underneath him and hiding your face in your hands.

"i wasn't even there long, i promise," rintarou says, his voice impossibly close because of the way the two of you are sprawled across the sofa. his breath is warm against the column of your throat when he speaks.

you refuse to look at him.

"i didn't even say anything embarassing."

you still don't budge.

"i made sure to thank your coworkers for calling me to come get you and everything."

your hangover has been overtaken by your own mortification, a horrible heat creeping up your face to accompany the taste of bile in your throat. you've been so, so careful not to let your relationship and your career overlap thus far. so cautious about introducing rintarou into parts of your life that would make it even harder to face if or when the time came that he wasn't around anymore.

"are you embarrassed of me?"

his question makes your chest ache. the way he says it twists the knife.

you lift your face from your hands and peek at him over your shoulder. he's so close that your noses almost brush.

"no." you mean it.

the anxiety in rintarou's gaze eases. he presses closer.

"you sure?"

you narrow your eyes at him. "depends. were you wearing that awful yellow track suit?"

rintarou laughs, all breath, and then dips down to kiss you softly. you want to complain that you haven't even brushed your teeth yet, or that you kind of feel like you might be sick, or that whatever he was trying to cook is on the brink of burning down the building. but you don't. you just let him rest on top of you. you let yourself enjoy it.

when he finally pulls away, rintarou has a somewhat sly smile on his face.

"what, rin?" you ask him gently.

"just wondering if now that i've met your coworkers you're going to let me come visit you at lunch, or if you're still gonna make me hide in the park."

"i like the park," you pout.

because the park is green, the colour you like so much. like rintarou's scratchy bedsheets. and his eyes.

"okay, okay," he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. "i like the park, too."

[apomaro-mellow]

Wrong Number 1

Eddie kept up a texting chain with Steve while making himself a breakfast of coffee and cereal. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since, well, when he thought of it when he was a teenager up all night in chat rooms and forums. When you found someone who you just clicked with.

[11:30] Any advice on how to fry an egg with a perfectly runny yolk?

(11:32) You like runny yolks??? 🤢 (11:33) It's scrambled or nothing for me (11:33) Cant help ya even if I wanted to

[11:35] I just want an egg on my avo toast

Normally Robin fried the eggs for breakfast. Her yolks were always perfect. But unlike Steve, she'd actually scored last night and was still with whoever she'd gone home with last night.

Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cliche. A guy who jogged and then came back home for some avocado toast with an egg on top? He just had to let his stance be known.

(11:35) Next ur gonna tell me bout your acai smoothie bowl rite? (11:36) Avo toast? Really???

Steve realized how he was coming off and had to quickly amend it.

[11:38] It's not what you think! We only got the avocados to make some guac the other day. There was one left and I wanted to use it before it went bad. And I'm all guac'd out. Hence the toast.

(11:39) At least you didn't use the avocado to make like ice cream or some shit

Finished with his own, normal, regular, average citizen breakfast, Eddie cleared his place and started to actually get ready for the day. His shift went from 2 to 10 tonight, so he needed to prepare for the long haul.

While brushing his teeth, getting dressed, and making something for his lunch later, he and Steve kept up the texts. Through their conversation he found out Steve's favorite ice cream (peanut butter), that he could cook eggs just about any way except sunny side up, and that he lived with a roommate named Robin.

Eddie got to his place of work and in a place like that you need to have some semblance of focus and attention, so he told Steve he had to get to work. He realized he was basically saying 'busy now, text you later?' to a stranger he'd only started talking to last night. Steve was completely in his rights to end the conversation there.

He could've ended it at any time really. What obligation did he have to keep on talking to him?

[2:01] Okay. Talk to you later

Steve stared at the message, already in the middle of agonizing over it when Robin finally came through the door of their apartment.

"Good afternoon. I wanna feel offended that I didn't get any texts or calls asking if I'm okay but I'm gonna choose to think it means you trust me and are a great judge of character."

For the first time in a while, Steve checked the time and actually realized how long it had been.

"Shit, Robs, I'm sorry." It had been over 12 hours and he hadn't checked in on her. All because he'd been texting a random number. "So you had a good time?"

Steve had been sitting on the couch and Robin plopped right down, laying her head in his lap.

"It was magical. Like something out of a movie."

"Aren't you glad I made you go and talk to her?", Steve smiled smug.

Robin smushed his face with her hands with a groan. "Don't look at me like that. You were right, okay? Me and her hit it off like, like uh, one of your sports metaphors."

"Robin you were in a soccer league just last year, stop acting like you don't know sports."

"Anyway, something grand must've kept your attention off me. Things go well with that girl you were talking to?"

"Umm, yeah."

Robin sat up, eyes narrowing. "And you came back here with her? Gross! Steve! Did you do it on the couch?!" She shot up immediately.

"I didn't", Steve rolled his eyes.

It was one of their main rules. No sex in the common areas of the apartment. Steve wasn't gonna tell her about the wrong number given to him. And he especially wasn't going to tell her he kept talking to it. The following lecture would have been unbearable.

"She gave me her number and we've just been texting back and forth."

Robin slowly sat back down on the couch. "Just texting? That's all you did?"

"That's all."

"Wow. You usually move faster than that."

"Well, I want something a little more this time. But enough about my snail pace romance. Let's talk about you and that girl, what was her name?"

He and Robin sat a long while, talking about her night, eventually going out for lunch together too. Not-Misty had said they were at work, but Steve couldn't help himself when he saw that Robin had ordered a burger with avocado on it and Steve had gotten a taco salad that came with, you guessed it, avocado.

[3:14] image.jpeg [314] Okay me and Robin might have a problem. But I swear it's not on purpose!

"Did you just send a picture of our lunch to someone?", Robin asked.

"Yeah to uh, to Misty. We were talking about avocados earlier and I figured she'd get a kick out of it."

Robin smiled through her chewing. She teased but she was glad that her friend had made a connection last night.

Meanwhile, Eddie saw the message, but didn't have a chance to reply, even on his lunch break. Through all the texting, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so it was on the plug and he was leaving it alone for now while he talked to his co-worker, Grant. He went through the rest of his shift, thinking about Steve.

What did he look like? How old was he? Where did he live?

He got off and made his way back home, stopping off somewhere to get dinner. It was a sandwich shop and he honestly contemplated getting avocado on his just to see Steve's reaction but he resisted.

'I can't be that down bad that I'm overthinking food now', he thought to himself.

When he got back home, he turned the tv on and took out his phone to reply to Steve right away.

(10:31) Back at home now (10:32) Work was crazy (10:34) And the 1st step to recovery is admitting u have a problem (10:36) But thru hard work we can get you addicted to a sensible veggie (10:37) Like broccoli

He thought since he kept Steve waiting for so long it might take some time for a reply to come, but his phone pinged almost immediately.

[10:39] First of all, avocado is a fruit. Second, I eat plenty of other vegetables. And third, what happened at work?

(10:41) It may be a fruit but I dont want it in my smoothie (10:42) And some guy came in and started throwing axes at the wall

Sunday evenings were usually more relaxed. It was why Eddie typically didn't work Friday or Saturday nights unless he needed some extra cash or they needed someone on deck.

[10:44] Hold the duck up someone was throwing axes!! [10:44] *duck [10:45] *FUCK

Eddie snickered through his eating and had to take a moment to swallow before something came up. He always enjoyed telling people what he did for a living.

(10:46) Cool your jets man (10:47) I work at an axe throwing range (10:48) The problem with this dude was he didn't have an appointment (10:48) Just came in and started throwing an axe at the wall

[10:50] Are you okay? That sounds dangerous

(10:50) My uncle handled it (10:51) Eventually the dude left

[10:52] Oh wow. Well I'm glad you're okay. Axe throwing tho. What an interesting job for someone of your age? 🤷

Steve was lying in bed and he buried his face into his pillow as he sent it with the shrug emoji. It was so transparent, he knew it. But he needed to have a better idea of who he was talking to. That way when Robin did eventually find out, he'd be able to tell her something, anything.

(10:53) Smooth (10:53) I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours

Eddie knew now was the time to be cautious. But he was also curious as to how much Steve would tell him and just what he wanted to know. He wasn't disappointed.

[10:54] Male, 23, 5'11

It was like the bare minimum of information and yet Eddie was already aggressively tamping down any hope that he might have a chance. Without his permission, hope bubbled up anyway

(10:55) Male, 24 going on 25, also 5'11

Steve stared at the text with the mystery person, mystery man's information. It seemed like so little and yet so much. He still hadn't an idea of what he looked like. But now he could at least get a general silhouette.

(10:56) Ur not one of those guys who lies about his height are you?

[10:57] Robin says my hair gives me two inches but she has no idea what she's talking about.

Eddie was thinking about how Steve must wear his hair. It could be in a sizeable pompadour, or maybe a nice afro. Maybe it was in a bun all the time? That was not what he typed out however.

(10:59) You know what they say (10:59) It's not the size but what u do with it

Okay this was it. This was where Steve stopped texting him. You can't just say that to guys you don't know-ping!

Eddie bit his lip and only had one eye open as he looked at Steve reply, preparing for the worst.

[11:01] Oh I know how to use my inches

Eddie dropped his phone onto the table and had to get up and pace, touch his face, his hair, throwing his hands in the air. Was this flirting? This felt like flirting. He wished he knew for sure. Maybe it was the lack of emoji. Had Steve put a winking face, he'd know for certain. Eddie leaned against his fridge, staring at his phone, sitting innocently on the table.

On the other side, Steve was burying his face into his pillow, pretending he didn't just say that. Would it come off as playful? As flirty? As casual? Should he have sent a wink? The seconds ticked and it felt too late. Like coughing after saying something awkward.

God, he was so desperate. Why was he even still texting? He had work in the morning. He should start preparing for bed so he had any hope of getting up on time. Steve pushed off the bed and went to his closet when he heard the notification sound and instantly returned.

(11:05) Let's get out the measuring tape (11:05) image.jpeg

Steve felt his heart skip a beat. The picture attached was of the very top of mystery man's head. He was holding up a lock of long, curly hair into the air. Steve studied the picture like he was getting paid to do it. He couldn't see any lower than the bangs on his forehead but there was still plenty to see.

The rings on his fingers for one, how his curls went this way and that. Steve quickly saved it and then replied with a similar pose, holding some hair by the fingers as far as it would go above his head.

[11:07] image.jpeg [11:08] I think you have me beat

They texted for about an hour more before Steve finally decided to be an adult and put himself to sleep, bidding mystery man good night.

Part 3

Fun fact, years ago I worked at an axe throwing place and yes, what happened to Eddie did in fact happen to me! On like my first week too I think

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @lolawonsstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @420-hun @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface

[darkfemininenergy]

LET’S PLAY THAT GAME ━ ethan landry

pairing: gf!ethan x fem!reader

warning: smut, ghostface phone call, dom!ethan, sub!reader, fingering, rough sex, choking, ropes, spit kink, fingers sucking, dirty talk, gloves kink.

author’s note: english is not my first language, and also my first time writing smut so i hope it’ll be good. if you have any request, let me know !

YOU’D COME HOME from the gym an hour ago, the only classes you had were this morning and you were grateful to have the whole afternoon off for once. you'd had lunch with mindy at noon and then decided to take her home, since the ghostface attacks had hit new york, following the 4 survivors of woodsboro, you didn't want the young meeks martin to go home alone, even in the middle of the day, who knows what might happen, especially when you knew who her uncle was.

now you were in your kitchen after a nice shower, in the background as sound of « how to get away with murder », one of your favorite tv shows, mindy found it quite ironic since you were in a law major.

you were cooking dinner quietly after a bit of studying, standing in front of the hob, dressed in a short, tight-fitting black top and gray shorts, your phone at your side as you wrote to the young meeks martin, who was confiding in you about her feelings for anika.

and that's when your phone began to vibrate, thinking it was mindy, a slight smile appeared on your lips before you grabbed your phone, but this smile slowly disappeared in your face due to what appeared on your screen: unkown caller.

a bad feeling began to take hold of you as, paranoid as you were, you looked around you at the knives just inches from you, spotting the largest of them.

you then answered the phone, adrenalin coursing through your body.

- hello ?

the sound of the oil against the frying pan camouflaged the sound of your series in the living room, as you added spices, waiting for an answer from your interlocutor, the wait was heavy.

- hello, y/n, replied the deep, gravelly, modulated voice.

ghostface.

a shiver ran down your spine, and your body froze, paralyzed as you realized the obvious: you were part of the group of friends of the survivors of the 2022 attacks.

you turned off the gas, stopped cooking. And clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

- well, go ahead, i’m wainting for the “what's your favorite scary movie ?” part.

you tried not to show any signs of fear, but inside you were terrified, imagining yourself already dead on your kitchen floor, but you knew you didn't have time to think about it and passed your index finger between the various knives on the rack in front of you, leaning slightly over the worktop.

the only response you got was a little laugh of amusement, mixed with a hint of sadism, from the killer, and it made your blood run cold.

- you're a bold one, aren't you? now, i think that i'm really going to enjoy this.

- fuck you.

-but you're also a very pretty one... he said with a seductive tone, too bad that i have to correct that filthy mouth of yours, he finished with a voice full of brutality, as if your insult had made him angry.

his change of mood startled you, and you immediately straightened up, then nervously tapped the surface of your kitchen with your freshly manicured nails.

- what do you want ? you asked, trying not to show how scared your voice sounded.

he hums slowly, as if he's thinking, and you can feel the goosebumps on your skin.

- that's a good question... what do i want... ? i want to play a game.

your heart was starting to race, so without thinking any further, you grabbed the largest knife and suddenly turned around with dynamism, all your senses now activated.

- do you want to play a game, y/n ? the modulated voice asked you.

- go to hell, i’m not going to play any of your sick game, you replied brutally.

- you look cute with that knife, tell me, what are you going to do with it, sweetheart ? stab me ? he teased.

you could practically hear the smirk in his voice and it drived you insane as well as the pet name, your grip on your knife was starting to tighten.

- where are you, asshole ? you spat hatefully.

you started to look from left to right, if anyone else could see you through your window, they'd think you were crazy to get so agitated, you leaned over to look towards the right exit which led to the hallway of your apartment, before returning to the kitchen which overlooked your living room.

you put your phone on the worktop behind your hob not far from your fridge, and activated the speakerphone to leave the call and type in the police number before he even answered.

- oh i wouldn't try to call the police if i were you, y/n, it'd be a real shame for mindy and anika to pay the consequences of your stupid actions.

your fingers stopped typing on your screen, not only because of the threat, but also because a detail had caught your attention, how did he know i was going to call the police ?

- h-how.... you began before cutting yourself off, can you see me?

he was sniggering again, and you were really beginning to hate that horribly creepy sound. you swallowed that awful lump in your throat that prevented you from speaking properly and waited for an answer.

- of course i can see you. i must admit that you look good in those, a little bit short though, does your boyfriend know you carry around in your apartment like that, y/n ?

panic-stricken, you hung up, and what a grave mistake you'd made, dropping your phone onto the wooden surface, you clutched the edge of it as if your body were threatening to collapse and you were looking for something to lean on. but then you pulled yourself together and grabbed your phone, never letting go of the knife you'd armed yourself with.

you moved towards the large window in your living room and pulled back the curtain slightly to see if anyone was outside watching you, since your kitchen was connected to the living room and, above all, open, with no door separating them.

but you couldn't see anything suspicious, only the horrible traffic jams of the city that never sleeps and people minding their own business down your street. you weren't the least bit reassured, certainly not, you had no idea where he could see you and you were terrified of it.

then you let out a groan of surprise when your phone started vibrating in your hand again, except this time it wasn't a call but a notification from an unknown number, it was a video.

your hands began to shake as you huffed and puffed to regain your composure, naively hoping to regain an ounce of control over the situation. once you'd opened your phone and clicked on the video, you saw mindy and anika on it, kissing on a sofa, the video had been taken from outside through your window and you pursed your lower lip, anxious, but starting to get angry that ghostface wasn't just threatening you, but also your friends, after everything mindy already endured because of that stupid mask.

and then, another call, again. you stared at your screen for a few seconds, looked around your living room and swallowed, grabbed your tv remote to turn it off, a silence falling over every room in the apartment when you finally accepted the call as you peered into every corner of the room, your stomach burning with fear.

- hang up again and i'll rip their heads off and send them in a box at your door ! shouted the killer menacingly and violently.

the violence of his threat burned your eyes, but you were able to swallow back your tears. you were sure he could feel your panic through the phone.

- not them, don't hurt them, s-stop it, i’ll do anything, i-i promise, you cried, afraid that something might happen to your friends.

- good girl, you see how easy things are going when you start obeying ? his voice softened, but you could still hear the amusement in it that told you he loved what was happening, that he loved scaring you.

despite the fear, the nickname he'd used triggered a reaction you'd never have suspected: a wave of heat spread through your body, even between your legs, and you suddenly felt ashamed.

- now, let's play that game. have you ever heard of hot and cold ?

you simply nodded, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears, knife still sharp in hand.

- words, pretty girl.

another heat wave.

- y-yeah, yes, i have.

- perfect. you want to know where i am, right ? then come and find me. go on.

you frowned, apprehensive about the objective behind this game, especially apprehensive about the moment when you were going to meet him.

- and then, if i find you, what will happen ?

- find me and you'll see, answered mischievously ghostface.

a new silence, neither of you speaking, the silence was heavy for you. you took two steps forward, and turned to look behind you again, the fact of not knowing where he was disturbed you and increased your degree of fear.

- are you scared, sweet thing ? he continued to mock, knowing he had the upper hand.

- shut the fuck up motherfucker, you're gonna pay for all of this, you grumbled in between.

- oh, really? i’m waiting then, he sneered, and you were willing to bet he was smiling.

his words only provoked you and you walked out of the living room, realizing that he couldn't be there, you were surprised to realize that you actually started looking for him, now angry at the way he was openly mocking you. you opened the bathroom door, peering in after turning on the light.

- cold.

you immediately left the room, closed the door and stepped into the corridor, which this time led to your bedroom. but before you got close to it, your steps slowed down, as you became more reluctant to head towards this part of the apartment, what if he was inside ?

- why are you slowing down ? maybe I'm inside.

- fuck it, you muttered.

you continued to hold your knife, getting ready to use it, when you arrived at the door to your room and opened it, you went in, and looked all around, near your desk, in the nooks and crannies, then your gaze fell back on your wardrobe, which was closed.

- are you in there ? you asked, your breath catching.

you heard his breathing through the phone become more erratic, and that's all you could hear as you held it to your ear.

- open it.

without further hesitation, you grabbed both wrists of your wardrobe and suddenly opened them, brandishing your knife in your face the next second.

but surprisingly, he wasn't there, so you straightened up and let your arm fall back down your body, then brought the phone up to your ear to hear your interlocutor, who seemed to love playing with your mind and emotions. he started laughing again, and the more he did it, the more it annoyed you than it frightened you now.

- no, i'm not there sweetheart, i was just messing with you.

- asshole, wanting to play a game without even knowing how to play it, you laughed bittersweetly.

you could sense that he wasn't happy with your answer, maybe even angry, but in any case, he didn't show it and decided to restart the game.

- you're getting colder, keep looking.

since you'd gone in the opposite direction and weren't getting any closer, you decided to return to the area you'd been in when you received the bloody call, retracing your steps, finding yourself in the hallway where your bathroom was once again.

- you're still cold.

you sighed in annoyance, but kept on walking, and when you passed the bathroom door you'd already looked in.

- warm, he warned you, and his husky voice sent shivers down your spine.

the further you went, the more your heart pounded to the point where that was all you could hear now. now you were back in your living room, you couldn't make any sense of the situation, you must have misunderstood his directions, he couldn't be there.

- you're getting warmer, good, very good sweetheart, you're almost there.

and yet, the praise almost made you blush again, you felt butterflies in your stomach and snapped inwardly as you remembered who you were on the phone with.

slightly frustrated by the flirtatious tone, you began to hold your knife out in front of you, preparing yourself better in case you found him.

as well as being frustrated, you were in total bewilderment, you had no idea where he could be, he kept messing with your head and he was very good at it.

he definitely wasn't in the kitchen, nor in the living room, not even towards the entrance, since you'd glanced around.

- keep looking, y/n, it'd be a shame if i find you first, wouldn't it ? tormented ghostface.

you held back from insulting him once more, avoided the living room areas you'd already looked at, and moved towards the only corridor on the opposite side of the apartment where you hadn't glanced.

and to do this, you had to pass through the corridor to your left leading to the front door, when you passed this door, and moved into the unlit corridor where in one of the doors lay your washing machine and other belongings, he spoke again.

- you don't want to turn colder again, don't you ? now, turn around.

paranoid, you thought he was right behind you, so you quickly turned around and took a big step back, the knife right in front of you, your arm raised, and you let out an expletive when you couldn't see anyone again. He was definitely playing with your mind and you'd had enough. You could feel the frustration heating your blood.

you made the choice not to pay any more attention to your footsteps, beginning to believe that he had lied to you and wasn't even near you, that this was just to scare you.

- warm.

but then you stopped, and that's how you noticed you were near the entrance hall. no, it couldn't be.

you headed in that direction, advancing slowly, cold sweat beginning to take refuge on your forehead.

- warmer.

shit. shit. shit.

you noticed the cupboard embedded in the wall a metre from the landing, and realized he was probably here. I'd have heard him, the kitchen's right next door. you had no idea what was going on.

- very very warm, he whispered.

your trembling hand came to rest on the wrist of the hall cupboard, hesitantly, you didn't open it immediately, feeling your breathing quicken.

in a split second, you brought your other hand to the cabinet and jerked it open. but nothing, absolutely nothing.

- fucking bastard, you growled.

you sighed, and slammed the wardrobe doors shut, the sound echoing throughout the apartment after this act of anger and you could hear him laughing in your ear.

pissed off, you returned to the kitchen to the very same spot where you had decided to call the police, still holding your weapon in your hand which was now on the kitchen counter facing the living room.

- now you're boiling.

you held your phone so tightly in your hand that you could have crushed it. you didn't know whether your hands were shaking with fear or anger, or both.

- i’m done with that shit, you growled again, if you want me, come and get me.

- want you in which way, darling ? don't get me wrong, both involve ropes, but it's an important distinction to make before we proceed.

- w-what ?

and just then, you saw a shadow with a very tall figure forming right in front of you.

you immediately dropped your phone from your hands, about to turn and brandish your knife to stab him, but a large gloved hand pressed against your mouth and an imposing body slammed you against the surface.

your scream was then muffled by the hand over your mouth, and your knife was snatched from your other hand, panic instantly seizing you after your weapon was snatched from you, you tried to fight back by reaching behind him with your hands, but his free hand had no trouble grabbing both your wrists and pinning them behind your back.

- i told you it'd be a shame if i find you first, he said mockingly.

the tears in your eyes blurred your vision, you kept squirming in all directions and your screams kept choking against your attacker's glove. then you felt them, your hands bound by ropes.

ropes that burned your wrists, he had to take his hand away from his mouth to bind your hands, and you couldn't control the rhythm of your breathing.

- no no no no no, you protested, naively trying to free yourself from the ropes.

just then, you felt his hips push you against the counter again and his hand slid down your back to force you against the surface, bended you over, he towered over you.

- p-please, please let me go, you tried not to let the tears roll down your cheeks, but your voice betrayed your fear.

- where's that attitude you were giving me earlier, hm ?

- i-i’m sorry, you let your forehead hit the cold surface of the counter, your eyes closed.

- you look so good like that, he murmured under his breath, bended over, begging for me, better than i have imagined.

a new complaint came from the back of your throat, and you started to struggle again, unconsciously moving your hips to push him away. then you felt something against you, something hard, then you heard him growl.

your mouth fell open in astonishment, you must surely have heard wrong, you thought. then you continued to rub your hips against him, your two bodies pressed together, and suddenly his left hand grabbed your hip to immobilize you.

an amused smile spread across your lips, contradicting the tears in your eyes.

- does this turn you on ? do i'm turning you on mr. ghostface ? you said in a playful tone.

- shut up, i'm gonna fuck that attitude out of you, spat the killer.

a groan threatened to leave your mouth but you managed to control it, feeling all wet after rubbing yourself against him and his modulated voice making you feel things you shouldn't feel.

a moan threatened to leave your mouth but you managed to control it, you felt all wet after rubbing yourself against him and his modulated voice made you feel things you shouldn't feel.

quickly, he removed your shorts followed by your underwear, leaving you almost naked apart from your black top, your wet intimacy exposed to the cool apartment air sending a shiver down your spine and forcing you to squeeze your thighs together.

- uh uh, none of that, open those legs for me, he said, slapping one of your thighs.

aware of the extent of your desire between your legs, you spread them slowly and slightly, enough for him to slip his hand in.

his fingers began to tease your crotch, you were about to open your mouth to express your desire, but closed it when his fingers moved to brush over her clit. you breathed deeply and closed your eyes as you felt his fingers gently beginning to knead at your clit and press against your entrance.

you took a shaky breath, clenching down around the finger gently as it was pushed in up to the second knuckle.

you moaned happily, your hips pressing forward. your hips swayed further as he began to move his fingers slowly. his fingers moved in and out of her slowly. then he gently curled them as he moved them, smiling at the cry he drew from you. his thumb gently massaged your clit, and you arched your back silently asking for more.

- you like that, huh ?

you nodded positively, moaning softly, your lip still between your teeth.

- come on, what did i told you earlier, sweetheart ?

words.

- f-fuck, y-yes.

- yes what ? while curling his fingers inside of you.

- yes, yes i-i like that.

he was starting to pick up his pace, you could hear his breathing jerking in turn, getting harder and harder by the pretty sounds you were making and the way you were moving your hips against him. although he'd been using a fairly gentle rhythm, now he was thrusting his fingers into you harder and harder, going even deeper.

causing moans that you could no longer control, especially when he added another finger, unconsciously, you closed your legs once more against the sensation that invaded you, but his other hand forced you to keep them spread for him.

even if you wanted to deny him access to your legs by closing them, you couldn't, his grip was too strong for you to move, it would probably leave a mark later.

when his fingers reached that spot inside you, you tilted your head back, eyes closed. he took advantage of your position to lean towards you, so that his fingers were deep inside you, and your belly was completely pressed into the countertop surface, as were your hips.

he grabbed your jaw to force you to open your eyes and tilt your head back even further, causing you to arch your back even more to the point of slight pain, and with your hands tied behind your back, it wasn't easy, so when you did, you fell into the big, intimidating black eyes of his mask.

but the idea of him fucking you in his ghostface costume, mask and gloves made you wetter, it was so wrong.

you gave him those doe eyes, and he swore he could have cum right now just from the look you were giving him. you half-opened your mouth as if to let out another moan, but nothing came out.

his thumb moved to your lower lip, his hand still gripping your jaw. his other hand continued to penetrate you roughly, but you still wanted more. he could read the desire on your face, in your eyes.

- what's the matter, pretty girl ? do you want my cock instead ?

you nod eagerly.

- please, i w-want it so bad.

the position you were in meant you couldn't breathe properly, your back arched, your head back as you stared into the big black eyes of the ghost mask.

his thumb pressed your clitoris just right, in a delicious way that brought back that exquisite sensation in your lower belly. but suddenly he withdrew his hand, feeling you suddenly empty, you let out a whine.

but he quickly silenced you by pushing the two fingers inside you into your mouth, his other hand controlling your movements through your jaw and forcing you to take his fingers covered in your juices.

- that's it, taste yourself, take those fingers right down your throat, whispered ghostface.

you felt your taste on his two fingers deposited on your tongue, you closed your mouth to suck greedily on his fingers that he pushed deep into your throat, creating new tears in the corner of your eyes and causing you a gag that seemed to satisfy him.

his fingers were so deep in your throat that your saliva was starting to drip down the corner of your mouth.

His hand that held your jaw withdrew from it, you felt the trace of the fabric of his gloves burn your jaw in the absence of his hand, then just after, you heard the sound of a belt unbuckling just behind you.

claiming only his fingers or his cock inside of you again, you moved your hips back, and felt the brutal material of his jeans, and then, from his underwear, you could especially feel his erection that was right against your ass.

you tried to speak, but with his fingers in your throat and the taste of your wetness on your tongue, those sounds were muffled, but you knew he'd heard you because he pushed his fingers even deeper into your mouth, making you feel a little dizzy.

as he let out a muffled moan against the movement of your hips against him, he in turn thrust against you, feeling your clitoris swell with excitement.

then, a few seconds later, unexpectedly, without any warning from him, you felt his tip right in front of your entrance and quickly, he penetrated you brutally, knocking the wind out of your lungs, causing you to scream due to the impact.

- did i go in too fast ? he laughed, tilting his head to one side, his voice still modified by the modulator.

he started to thrust in and out of you at a pace that made you see stars. his fingers left your throat, and you took a deep breath of air, you were suffocating, and yet his index finger remained between your mouth and your teeth, understanding what he wanted you to do, you bit the material of his glove, allowing him to slide his hand out, removing his glove for him, letting go of the glove in your mouth, you could then observe his hand.

large and covered with veins. You could almost recognize his hand. Your pussy was throbbing and the harsh thrusts didn't help.

suddenly, his hand grabbed the back of your neck and tilted you forward, pushing your chest against the surface where you rested your cheek. it felt so good, you could hear him growling behind you and your whole body wanted to submit to him. his thrusts pushed your belly against the counter, his hips slammed into your buttocks.

for support, he grabbed the ropes he'd tightened around your hands, still holding your neck to make sure you didn't move, you were his to fuck.

you tried to straighten up, but his grip prevented you, so you tried to look over your shoulder, and just seeing him fucking you could make you cum on the spot, his tall figure, the mask, him dominating you.

the erotic sound of his cock thrusting into you filled the room and mingled with your moans and grunts.

- harder, please fuck me harder, you begged, letting your forehead fall back against the counter, eyes closed.

- you want me to fuck you harder ? he said playfully, fine then, i’ll fuck you harder.

he did as you asked, but first by slowing down his thrusts, you then let out some moans as you arched your back, but then he thrust more brutally, deeper into you, all the while being fast. you opened your mouth in pleasure, before going back to biting your lip.

his bare hand grabs your waist and uses it as leverage to thrust into you, leaving you little or no time to adjust as he drives deep into you.

he pulls you back, using his grip on your wrists as your pussy tightens around his cock under his thrusts.

after a few more strokes that made you feel disoriented to the point where it was hard to keep your eyes open. a small noise near you caught your attention, you reopened your eyes breathing hard, and noticed the ghostface mask right next to you, he'd just pulled it off. your eyes widened in astonishment.

- taking it so well, hm whore ? he said in a taunting tone, the modulator was off, god, you feel amazing, he moaned.

and you recognized that voice.

- e-ethan ?

you couldn't see him, but he was smiling and pounding into you, his curly hair falling back on his forehead with a little sweat on his temples.

without you expecting it, his hand on the back of your neck slid down your throat to pull you back to his torso, your hands tied behind your back making the position slightly uncomfortable, but when you let your head fall below his shoulder to look up at him, you forgot the discomfort.

you couldn't believe it, ethan, the shy, dorky guy you were so close to.

- hi baby, surprised ? he smirked devilishly.

- i- you tried to speak, but another of his blows triggered a soft moan.

he laughed again, his eyes never leaving your face, watching as your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth opened in pleasure. he tightened his hand around your neck enough to reduce the air passing through to your lungs, and again he felt you tighten around him.

- look at you, what a little slut. you look so pretty with my hand around your throat.

wanting to look at him, you opened your eyes again, your eyes met and you noticed how dark his gaze was as I'd never seen it before. his hand on your hip began to rub your clit deliciously while he was thrusting in you.

he leaned over and placed his lips against yours to kiss you passionately, not giving you a chance to breathe, you kissed him back without hesitation, which made him smile.

when the kiss ended and you parted, you looked up at him again, his hand still around your neck. you let out at surprised gasp when he forced you to bend over once more, removing his hand from your throat to move it into your hair, which he grabbed to pull you back.

you found yourself in the same position as before, your back curved and your head tilted back. you could see him, but instead of the ghostface mask, you saw ethan's angelic face, who wasn't actually so angelic.

his grip on your hair made you groan, and you'd never have suspected this dominance from mindy's number one suspect.

- open your mouth.

damn.

you opened your mouth as he asked, tongue out, with a doe eyed gaze that made him growl. he leaned closer and spat into your mouth.

- swallow it.

and you did. you swallowed without replying under his eager gaze. you stuck out your tongue to prove it, god, you were sure you looked so dirty like that. his gloveless hand found its way to your cheek, and he patted it before caressing it with a delicacy that contradicted the brutality of his strokes that made you stammer.

- that’s it. you’re being very good baby.

the praise pushed you to give him a fucked up smile. the more time passed, the more you felt that knock in your lower belly. you were close,and ethan could feel it too by the way you tightened around him.

- s-shit, e-ethan, i’m close.

- i know, baby, cum for me.

with his hand pulling your hair tighter so he could get a better view of your face to see you cum, before long, you were cumming and felt your legs trembling under the intensity, and when you came, you let out the prettiest sound without worrying whether your neighbors heard you or not.

he let go of your hair, and both his hands bestially gripped your hips, he was close too, you felt overstimulated but you knew he was going to cum soon so you

let him use you. he muttered "fuck" under his breath, and cummed as he sank deep inside you, stopping his thrusts to stay deep inside you. he tilted his head back, his adam's apple perfectly visible and you didn't have to look at him to know he must be incredibly beautiful like that.

[bbina]

eggs

it smells like burning eggs

you can't tell if you're half conscious or half awake

your dream has been quite odd to say the least. you were dreaming about how you were hugging someone in your sleep that it felt a little too real to be a dream..

hold on, how the fuck did you make it home last night?

your eyes flutter open at the sound of sizzles coming from your kitchenette

is someone at your apartment right now?

immediately, you sat up from the bed. wrong move if you thought so yourself cause now your head felt like it's being pounded down relentlessly

hissing, you cradled your head. how much did you even drink last night and how did you make it home in one piece?

"oh you're awake"

a voice speaks. you look up and there he was, the owner of the voice that you know all to well now.

it was wonbin

who was messily wearing your bright pink apron, holding a frying pan with a lopsided smile plastered on his face

so the smell of burning eggs wasn’t a dream

wait a second.. if wonbin was here and those damn eggs weren't a dream then does that mean the person you were hugging in your dream was wonbin?

“i know you have a lot of questions judging by the look on your face right now but before that” wonbin pauses, putting down the frying pan back to the induction stove and picking up a glass of water and some painkillers from the counter before handing them to you, "drink these first"

you let out another hiss when you felt the second wave of your headache. damn you hangovers. you swallow the medicine and wiped your mouth with the sleeve of the jacket you were wearing before you realized that you didn't own a fuzzy jacket

was this wonbin's jacket too?

"i didn't do anything stupid last night, did i?" you ask, feeling the embarrassment slowly creep up in your veins

wonbin chuckles at your question, turning off your induction stove before plating what seems to be your breakfast

"unless you consider calling me to pick you up last night as something stupid then no. you didn't do anything stupid" wonbin places down the plate that had eggs and kimchi fried rice on the table in front of you

you can feel your face heat up. you've definitely done it now. why did you even call him in the first place? you will never know

"it's fine by the way. in case you're thinking about how it must've been a hassle or some shit like that. i don't mind." wonbin adds, as if he was reading your mind, "if anything i'm glad you called me instead of some random person to pick you up"

"i'm so-"

"shh. no need for that" wonbin shushes you, picking up your spoon, scooping a spoonful of the food that he graciously made just for you before holding it in front of you, "say ah" he coos playfully

you scrunch your face, swatting his hand away before you pick up the spoon and fed yourself. no way in hell you were about to let him do this shit for you too

"eat up" wonbin says, watching you eat in front of him. you raise an eyebrow at him before munching away the food he made

"not bad" you murmured, savoring the taste. you're not too sure if you have the heart to tell him that the egg was a little too salty for your liking. "the kimchi fried rice is good" you complimented

"thank you" wonbin smiles, he leans on the table, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he watches you intently

"eggs are salty as fuck though" you blurt out, glancing at him for his reaction

wonbin scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully

"it's the thought that counts anyway" he retorts

true, you thought to yourself. the effort he put into this– taking care of you just speaks louder than words and you know that damn well. there's a strange feel in the air right now and you're not sure if you like it

"you know, you were pretty funny last night" wonbin starts, chuckling at the memory

you groan, dropping your utensils on the table as you cover your face with your hands

"so i did do something stupid" you complained

"not necessarily. you just said some things.." wonbin trails off, teasing you, "something along the lines of how happy you are these days" he grins

you can feel your face heat up again. you mentally curse yourself for letting your guard down who even knows what you yapped about last night when you were under the influence. you could've said anything!

"i hope i didn't say anything weird.." you mumbled, hiding your face away from wonbin who bursts out laughing.

fuck, you definitely did say something weird for him to react like that

"you asked me to–"

"i don't want to hear it" you cut him off, placing your hands on your ears to prevent yourself from hearing about the shit you probably said last night

wonbin laughs again at your reaction. he figured that you won't be able to take it just yet since it was the morning after anyway. guess he'll just hold this against you another day

while wonbin was busy laughing, you were trying to rack every memory you can remember in your head for anything that led up to whatever situation you're in with wonbin. does karina and giselle know that wonbin brought you home? were they the ones who called him? why can't you remember anything?

"all i'm gonna say right now is that i feel the same way" wonbin breathes out, wiping a stray tear from his face after laughing his ass out

what the fuck did he mean by that

"anyway, you done with that? i'm gonna wash the dishes so you don't have to later" wonbin asks, getting up from the chair in front of you. you nod your head yes as you push your now empty plate onto the table.

your fingers accidentally brush against his sending sparks all over your body. even if it was just for a brief second, you couldn’t help but think about it over and over again

wonbin smiles, taking the said plate and walks towards your sink and starts washing the dishes for you

you sit in silence just watching his back. the way this feels all too domestic feels so weird but at the same time, it feels so right. like you two are supposed to be doing shit like this

no, what the fuck? why are you suddenly thinking of weird things? wonbin is just a friend. why are you thinking about him in such domestic way

friends don't do this

they don't.

do they?

you shake these intrusive thoughts away. this has got to be the worst hangover you ever had in your life. to the point it got you thinking of weird things all of a sudden. but no matter how hard you try to divert your attention elsewhere, it just goes back to him unconsciously

what the fuck is going on

alone together ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 . . . intrusive thoughts

── taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

⋆｡˚ prev | next ˚���

꩜ notes .ᐟ i kept procrastinating bc of someone's enlistment and i havent been the same since.. are we ready for alone together 2.0? p.s the last two texts are like prev texts. they didn’t happen “today”

꩜ taglist .ᐟ @onlywonb @rosesfortaro @starwonb1n @wonychu @totheseok @dolloie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @binluvsu @onlyhyunjin @annswwa @wonbinsvlle @hakkkuu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @artstaeh @lecheugo @odxrilove @bunni @saranghoeforanton @nujeskz @nakam00t @kyusqult @nctsshoes2 @revehosh @s9nwoo @daegale @palchokitty @dutifullyannoyingfox @oshakyao @koryutte @b-riize @meowbini @peterm4rker @winuvs @i03jae @rsatoru @enhacolor @dalliesque @sweetiejaeyun @dearestjake @cupidslovearrows @sasfransisco @kkumistars @sngj08 @taroddori @nshmurarki @ennycutie @sa3ha @koeuh @astro-doll-the-star @amouriu

[bi-bard]

The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted" - Aziraphale & Crowley Imagine [Good Omens]

Title: The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted"

Pairing: Aziraphale & Crowley X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 2,071 words

Warning(s): headache, mention of break-up

Summary: In which a struggling college student stumbles upon a demon and an angel, who agree to help in any way they can.

Author's Note: to celebrate the announcement of the release date... and give a little comfort to those who are having a rough time in college right now.

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

I had gone to that small bookshop for something to work on a paper.

I had been looking for it online, but nothing was affordable. My best option was going to be to find a small bookshop that didn't charge as much. I simply had my fingers crossed that it would work out.

I must've been walking around with my eyebrows furrowed for a little while because a man walked up to me. He was wearing a beige suit with a-little-too-perfectly white hair. He seemed friendly enough though.

"Can I help you find something," he asked. I paused for a moment. "Sorry, I'm the owner. I can tell you where everything is."

"Oh, okay," I chuckled. I pointed at a part of my paper where my potential sources had been scribbled down. "Um, yes. I'm looking for this... it's for a school paper."

"I see..." he muttered. "Wait here."

I nodded.

I watched him walk behind a set of shelves. There was maybe a minute of waiting before the man walked out again with the book in his hands.

"Oh, you are a lifesaver," I said excitedly. "Thank you! How much?"

He hesitated, staring at the book. As if he grabbed it without thinking about it but now was realizing that he was going to have to part with it.

"How about a deal," he offered after a few moments. "Once you're done with your paper, bring it back here in largely the same condition. No charge and you have no additional clutter to take up space in your home."

I grinned. "Sounds like a deal."

"Well, then, I wish you luck on your paper," he handed me the book

"Thank you," I said. I only took a few steps toward the door before stopping. "I didn't get your name."

He hesitated for a moment before replying, "A.Z. Fell."

"Oh, I thought... Sorry, I assumed this place had been open for a while, so I thought the name on the front was your father or something."

"Afraid not."

"Well, thank you again. I'll see you in a few days."

Which I did.

A few days later, my paper was done, and I walked back into the little bookshop.

"Mr. Fell," I called.

He rounded the corner. "You're back."

"I'm here to return your book," I held up the book as evidence. "Perfect condition."

"Thank you so much," he said as he grabbed it from me. "I hope you get a good grade on that paper of yours."

"Me too," I chuckled. "In all honestly, I don't think I've read it without just a little more of my brain frying."

"Oh no," he mumbled. "I... I could read it over for you. If that would help, of course. I won't force you to give me your paper."

"I... I can't ask you to do that."

"Well, that's precisely why I'm offering," he grinned at me.

I grinned back. "Okay. When would you like me to bring it by?"

"Do you have time now?"

"Um, yeah, sure."

"Here," he led me into a corner of the shop with a small table. "You get your paper put together and I'll make us some tea."

"Okay," I nodded.

As he walked out, I sat down and unzipped my bag, grabbing the binder that held my paper. I also grabbed a red pen just so it was more convenient.

When he came back, he placed a mug in front of me. I grinned and thanked him.

"You can go find a book to enjoy if you'd rather that than watch me read..." he looked at the paper in front of him. "(Y/n)."

"Thank you."

I took his advice. I took the mug of tea and started pacing around the collection of books. I was scanning the spines of the books when the doors of the shop slammed open.

"Angel!"

I jumped at the sound, looking over at whoever had stormed in. Another man, dressed in all black, sunglasses sitting on his face.

"Who are you?"

"(Y/n)," I said. "Who are you?"

"I have told you to not run in here shouting like that," Mr. Fell walked out of the corner that he had been hiding in.

"Who is this," the other man pointed at me.

"I just told you my name," I replied.

"How am I meant to trust you?"

"Why would I lie about my name?"

"Don't know, you tell me-"

"Stop it," Mr. Fell cut him off. "This is (Y/n). I am reading over a paper that they wrote for school."

"Why?"

"Because it's kind," he turned back to me. "(Y/n), this is... Anthony."

"Nice to meet you," I nodded to Anthony.

"Yeah, you too," he muttered, barely paying me any mind as he spoke to Mr. Fell. "We need to talk."

"I am busy-"

"Do I look like I care?"

"I can come back later," I spoke up.

"No, no, please, I promised to read your paper," Mr. Fell stopped me. "Anthony will simply have to wait."

"Excuse me," Anthony snapped.

"You heard me perfectly well," Mr. Fell mumbled. "Please, stay. I'll finish this paper."

Anthony glared at me as Mr. Fell turned around and went back to the table he had been sitting at.

If you had told me that day that the little bookshop was going to become such a place of comfort for me, then I am not sure that I would have believed you.

But it did.

I continued going to that little shop whenever I had the time. I would study, read, or just help with whatever I could help with. Mr. Fell was not a fan of me doing "so much" work around the shop, but I insisted. He had given me a safe space. The least that I could do was help him maintain it.

I grew closer to him as time went on. I even grew closer to Anthony.

Or Crowley, as I soon learned.

I still chuckled from time to time over how they told me their real names. I had been sitting at the table, scribbling notes for one of my courses.

They both stood in front of me silently until I noticed them. I raised an eyebrow at them. That's when they confessed that their names were fake.

When they told me their real names, I felt bad for chuckling. They both looked a bit confused.

"I'm sorry, but... your fake name just used your real name as a last name," I pointed to Crowley and then to Aziraphale. "And yours was your real name with a couple of letters taken out."

"Alright, we get it," Crowley grumbled.

"Thank you for telling me," I added. "I mean it."

"You're welcome," Aziraphale replied. Crowley didn't say the same until Aziraphale looked over at him with a somewhat grumpy look.

The three of us were only closer after that.

It was nice. Having that small support group that I could turn to.

Aziraphale was always ready to help. As soon as I opened the door of the shop, he was ready for whatever assistance I asked for. A hug, an extra set of eyes on an assignment, a quiet place to read a new book.

Crowley acted cold, but I could tell that he cared.

I came in one day with one of the worst headaches I had ever experienced. Aziraphale was gone, but Crowley had been waiting for him. I walked into the building with the heels of my hands pressed into my eyes. After grumpily explaining what was happening, I walked off to put my bag down and hide in the corner.

He waited for a moment before following me.

"Come here," he said.

"What," I asked.

"Come here," he repeated, holding his arms open.

I kept my eyebrows furrowed as I stepped forward. Once I was close enough to him, he grabbed my arm and pulled me forward into a hug.

"Oh," I mumbled before slowly hugging him back. "This is nice."

"Don't call me that."

I chuckled. "I didn't call you nice."

"Oh...," he muttered. "Well... don't get any clever ideas."

"Yeah, sure, whatever you want, Crowley."

I closed my eyes for a minute, holding onto him a little tighter.

I don't know what happened, but I could feel my headache slowly fading away as we hugged. It felt like it was there one minute and gone the next. I let out a sharp breath when it was gone. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my head.

"Thank you," I said after a while.

"Yeah, whatever."

That may have been the closest I ever got to a you're welcome with him and I was okay with that. For the time being.

I don't know if I truly realized how much Crowley and Aziraphale cared for me until I walked in crying.

I felt like a child. I was crying as I walked down the sidewalk.

When I made it to the shop, I almost sprinted inside.

Aziraphale jumped at the force I used to open the door. Any scolding died as soon as he saw me.

"Oh, dear," he muttered, walking over to me. "What happened to you?"

He pulled me into a hug as I cried. I hid my face in his shoulder, clinging to his suit a bit as I did. I saw Crowley walk out from around the corner.

"What's going on," he asked.

I stepped back. I went to speak but nothing came out.

"Come on," Aziraphale guided me to my normal corner, guiding me to sit down. I dropped my bag on the floor and wiped my eyes. "Take your time."

Crowley sat in the spot next to me while Aziraphale stayed standing.

"There's... There's this guy," I explained. "I... We were seeing each other for a little while. We went on a few dates. I thought... I thought it was going well. And then, he just... changed. And he sent me this."

I tossed my unlocked phone on the table. Aziraphale grabbed it first. I heard a disgusted sound escape him.

"That is just... despicable," he muttered, placing the phone down.

Crowley reached out and grabbed the phone. I saw his face twist in disgust as a reaction.

"I think he sounds like a waste of time," he said as he placed my phone down. "It's stupid to waste an ounce more of your time on him."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale was fast to scold him.

"What?"

"Now is not the time to insult (Y/n) about their relationship!"

"I'm not! I'm only insulting them if they decide to spend any more time on this person. What I did was just an example of bluntness."

Aziraphale gave Crowley a look before turning back to me with a soft grin. "I am going to make you some tea. You just relax. And Crowley..."

Crowley smirked at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Be nice."

"I am not nice."

"Well, maybe now is a good time to try."

Aziraphale turned around and walked away from the pair of us.

There was a pause between the pair of us before I could speak up.

"Do you actually think that I'm stupid for wasting time on this guy," I asked quietly.

Crowley let out a sigh as he sat up a little bit straighter, tilting his head so he was looking me in the eye. "Not as stupid as he was for leaving you."

I felt a grin form on my face. He leaned over and kissed my head before standing up.

"I'm going to get you something a little stronger than tea."

"I don't drink-"

"And I clearly meant chocolate."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Thank you, Crowley."

"You're welcome."

He walked out of the little nook in the corner.

As he did, I leaned my head on my folded arms on the table. I felt my eyes slowly shutting. I felt bad because of what the pair were off doing, but I couldn't help it. It had just been such a long day. I couldn't help it.

As my blinking got slower and slower, I found myself thinking about how lucky I was to be in that situation.

I had never felt as safe as I was when I spent time in that little bookshop.

I would never be able to thank Crowley and Aziraphale for that.

But I would never stop trying to do so.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[the-faceless-bride]

🌲Welcome to Forks 🍃

Tags: @art3mas @the-atlantic-french-fry @mzcrazy2 @sadbitchfangirl @sinofwriting @ateliefloresdaprimavera

Characters: [name] Swan, Bella Swan, Charlie Swan, Jacob Black, and The Cullen family

Plot summary: Renae had enough of your attitude, she decided it was best for you to stay with your sister and Father in Forks. Paying to fly you out to forks, To Charlie's Delit and Bella's chagrin. However, seeing how Bella has been acting you watch closely as to what she does. And seeing how she treats Dad and an old friend Jacob, you feel it best to call her out. Because that's what big sisters do.

Warning: swearing, yelling, Bella being a hypocrite and not like other girls, crying, arguments, slapping, Edward being a creep.

A/n: Fuck Edward. And not in a good way. In a grossed out over his bs way.

Chapter one: welcome Home.

Chapter summary: finally, after so long of arguing, craving to get out of the heat, wanting to be with your dad and go home. Your mother finally agreed. You were on your way back to forks.

This chapter will contain? Bella is stand-off-ish (what else is new), Charlie is the best dad he could be, fluff, and readers' first day in forks.

You ran to your Dad; he had been waiting for you leaning against his car a smile on his face, happy both his litter girls were home. His arms were wide open for you, "Dad!" you screeched as you let your body crash into him, you missed your dad. You hated being away from him, and while Bella took to your mother, you were and always will be a daddy's girl.

Charlie looked at you, pulling away his hands resting on your shoulders. "wow. Look at you!" you smiled as you brushed soft curls from your face, "My little girl, grown up!.. Well. Not grown up too much. You're still my baby girl you hear me?" you laughed as you nodded your head. "well. What do you say we go home, sweetpea?"

The drive back wasn't painfully long, time seemed to fly catching up with your favorite parent. You told him about how you found a love for fashion, how you missed forks, how good it was to not be in constant heat.

Pulling to the house you could barely remember still felt good and nostalgic, "who's truck?" you asked confused. Maybe Dad got a new car? "oh, yeah that's Bella's got her it as a welcome home gift." he paused then looked down then to you, "Well...now I feel bad I didn't think to get you something." you smiled at up at your dad, you loved Charlie. "it's ok dad, im just happy to be home."

He smiled at the use of the word home, giving a cheery "let's go!" you practically bounced to the front door. Ready to get in the house and race up to your old room wanting to see what had been made of it.

As soon as Charlie opened the door you rushed up the stairs, Charlie letting out a chuckle locking the door behind him before following after you, "Slow down! I'm getting old I can't chase after you like I used to!" he huffled with a smile.

Your room was untouched. Just as it always has been. Twin bed, white ruffled bed frame, light dusted pink walls, soft carpet, chipped white painted bedside table and dresser, the vanity in the middle of the wall near the window. It was perfect. Just as it always has been.

But then it hit you, "Wait. Where's Bella?" you turned to a slightly out-of-breath Charlie, "Oh, well. She's got this new... Boy. Friend. A friend she's been hanging out with recently." he mumbled unsettled by the topic, Bella... Your sister. Your awkward, no-fun, book-loving, blend-in-with-the-crowd sister Bella. Was out late... With a guy?

Maybe this whole moving to forks thing was a really good thing for her.

"oh! Before we do anything else someone wants to see you!" you focus your attention back on your dad and not on your thoughts as you tilt your head, you just got here who would want to see you already? Charlie was now the one rushing down the steps to open the door, you laughing and closing on his heel.

"[Name!]"

"Billy!"

" Hey [name]"

"JACOB!"

You hugged Billy, before pulling Jacob down to your height and messing with his hair, he laughed and 'struggled' in your grip. You always loved Jacob, he always followed you around when you were younger. You were a year older than him and Bella, they always wanted to hang out with you, no matter where you went Jake and Bells were close behind you.

"im happy to see you [name], im glad to have my two best friends back." you really hugged Jacob this time. No longer the little boy you had to protect from the other older kids like Paul.

Feels so long ago.

Just then a car pulled up to the house, an expensive car at that.

Out came Bella still in her loose hoodie, layered shirts, unbrushed hair pulled back with a plain headband, baggy jeans, and a brown book bag. Yup. Same old Bells. But then came out a boy. Pale as could be with fluffed-up hair, nothing noticeable with what he was wearing, he looked like 'random guy in a crowd #4' the one thing that stood out was his eyes. Pricing gold eyes.

He stared at you, an odd expression on his face. His Face contorted like he was in pain. Looking you up and down.

From your softly curled hair, light eye make-up blushed cheeks, and plump lips, the loose complementary scarf that clung loosely around your shoulders, your tight top, fuzzy sweater, skirt, leggings, and fluffy leg warmers, what was this guy staring at?

His eyes shifted to Billy and Jacob and he made a face, one that shifted from pain. To disgust. You narrowed your eyes, just what in the hell was this guy's problem?!

Then what made you realize you had work to do, and a serious chat to have.

When your Dad smiled at your sister slightly opening his arms and giving a "Hey sweetie Bells!" she made and face heading in side with a mumbled "hi Charlie."

... Oh fuck no.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

So of course we've all seen the smut where the ghoul eats you out while on your period...... and my question is this...... do you think that is strictly the ghoul thing? Because of the cannibalism? Or did Cooper prewar already have his red wings? He seems the type to do ANYTHING to make his girl feel better if you catch my drift. Just a thought 😂🤭

It's absolutely not just a cannibalism-related thing; while, ironically, I don't really see Prewar!Cooper Howard as someone who would really enjoy the iron-heavy taste of blood/very rare meat/game-type meat all that much, you are 110% correct in saying that he would do anything to make his partner feel better.

Plus, he's just a munch in general. If he wants to eat pussy, he wants to eat pussy now, not in 4-7 days. It being a little medium-rare doesn't bother him at all.

I didn't intend for this to end up this long. I just sat down to answer this ask real quick and suddenly I had like 2,500 words. I guess you could call it a spiritual prequel to "Bloodletting".

There are a lot of things you don't enjoy about being a person who menstruates. There are also a lot of things you don't enjoy about living in California, namely the summers with their unforgiving heat and brain-frying sun.

Menstruation in the California summer is downright unfair.

After a long day of enduring your body's seemingly intense resentment towards you, you feel disgusting when you finally make it to the home you share with your fiance and immediately drag yourself into a scalding hot shower. Cooper often likes to joke that you're trying to boil yourself in there, playfully chastise that it isn't good for your skin, but the way the heat seeps into your sore muscles is like a siren's call. Once the tap runs cold, you begrudgingly dry yourself, pulling your damp hair up and away from your neck and shoulders before rummaging through the medicine cabinet for something to hopefully ease the ache in your cramping abdominal muscles.

Too tired and sore to worry about scrounging up any food, you throw your still lightly-damp, nude body into your unmade bed and pull the top sheet around you. Normally, the thing would be nicely made before you left the house for the day, but since Cooper left long before you and it fell to you to do the making today, it simply hadn't happened. Cranky, you offer the sleeping dog curled up at the foot a few scratches on his sweet head before closing your eyes and getting in a short, fitful nap.

The familiar jangle of Cooper's keys in the front lock tugs you out of the dreamless void you'd fallen into at some point, and you smile briefly as you hear Roosevelt scuttle off from where he'd been watching over you towards the door. After a moment, you can hear the garbled greetings the older man gives his furry companion, the first step in his homecoming routine, with which you are now intimately familiar. The next step is to shed his boots and jacket, then to drop his keys and the mail on the small table inside the door.

"Honey?" he calls, footsteps moving your way. The two of you spoke on the phone around lunch and he had received a rather generous earful of your complaints.

"I'm here." you respond, turning to face the ceiling groggily as he enters.

"My poor sugar." he laments, the mattress sinking on one side as he sits down beside you, one warm hand patting your back sympathetically. Roosevelt sits briefly beside the bed, watching you curiously, but Cooper dismisses him to his bed in the living room softly, and the dog obeys quietly. "I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick. Can I get you something to take first? Or the hot water bottle, maybe?"

"I already took something, I'm just waiting for it to kick in." you reply, eyes closed as you try to soothe your abdominals with the warmth of your bare hands. "I would take the hot water bottle if you're offering, though."

You cuddle the warm sack of rubber he fetches for you, holding it snug against your stomach under the top sheet as you listen to the sounds of him quickly hopping into and out of the shower. When he emerges, you can see a faint amount of steam seep into the bedroom, as opposed to the thick clouds that typically roll out when you're finished.

"Feeling any better, sweetheart?" he asks, leaning down to kiss at your bare shoulder.

"Eh, sort of." you respond, smiling at the feeling of his lips on your back. The tickling feeling combined with the smell of his body wash encompassing you makes you clench a little, which both fans the low-burning coals in your gut that always smoulder around him and makes another cramp rip through you, sending you whining.

"Aww, poor thing." he coos, petting at your leg and knee. "Did you try anything else?"

"The stuff I took earlier is working okay, and the water bottle is nice." you say, setting the thing aside as you sit up to look at him. There's just a touch more white in the salt-and-pepper of his sideburns now than there was when you originally met him, but you find it very appealing. "I just wish everything wasn't so tight and tense, you know?"

"I hear you." he says, lips moving along your forehead. "I could try making you feel better, if you'd let me."

You chuckle in response, tossing yourself down flat in a dramatic display of exhaustion.

"If you can figure out how, be my guest."

Your words bring a massive grin to his face, and suddenly he's planted himself down between your knees, hands running along your inner thighs and rapidly up towards your mound.

"Cooper, what're you--" you begin, but he cuts you off with a gentle shushing and a light massage to your tight thigh muscles.

"Just lie back and let me help you." he says, lying down flat with his shoulders right even with your knees. He peppers kisses from your navel, down the little trail of soft, downy hair that leads to your mons before ghosting his lips back and forth, back and forth across the skin. It raises goosebumps on your skin almost instantly in anticipation.

"Honey." you huff as another cramp balls up in your middle at the sensation. "Don't tease."

"M'sorry, my girl." he apologizes. "I'll make it better."

Only a moment later, you're crying out as he spreads you open gently with his hands and finds your aching little bud with the tip of his tongue. He doesn't like rare meat all that much, from what you've seen, so you're not sure how crazy he is about the taste of blood, but he doesn't hesitate to slide his tongue fully along your wet, sensitive slit, using the wriggling muscle to worship every inch of you until your vision is full of stars.

The tension in your abdomen increases as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm, your legs quickly moving up to wrap around his head of their own accord, holding him tight in place with his lips and tongue against your clit. Eventually, you feel his fingers gently swiping around your entrance, and the gasp that leaves you when he slips two of them inside of you is echoed by a low groan from your partner. Your hands are knotted tight in the disheveled sheets, your hips bucking and grinding against Cooper's face like they have a mind of their own.

The rhythm he's playing against your bud increases as you whine and cry out his name again, and by the time he's made you cum for the third time, he's visibly grinding his hips against the mattress, licking and sucking at your skin until you tug on his hair for mercy.

His lips and chin are streaked in scarlet as he pulls himself back up, grinning down at you as he pivots to settle on his hip beside you, his warm, softly calloused hand hand still stroking your thigh lovingly as you ride out your last few scant shivers.

"Feel any better now?" he asks as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. You roll your eyes playfully, kicking softly in his direction, only to be undercut by him seizing your foot in his hand and peppering it with kisses, making you squeal with laughter.

"Alright, I feel a lot better." you admit when you finally calm down. You sit up a ways, nuzzling beneath his chin, planting wet kisses there and feeling him shiver in response. "But I still think you should have to split these stupid things with me. Or find a way to stop them, maybe. Write some scientists a check or something."

"Oh, I can stop them, sweetheart." he says bawdily, tucking his chin to tease your throat with his tongue as your hand moves to rest on his cheek. "For about a year, a least."

The hand resting on his cheek moves to the back of his head, threading into the thick, dark hair there and gently pressing there to usher him down towards you until your lips meet once more. He knows this is a hot button for both of you, and you want to chastise him for being such a tease. However, your mind is too foggy.

As he leans further towards you, tongue pushing deeper into your mouth, your hand is finally able to find what it's been seeking. His erection is already throbbing in your grip as you stroke him through his boxers, a groan seeping through his nostrils as he pulls back from your kiss. Despite this, you hook your leg around his hip the best you can, attempting to tug him back down between your legs.

"Coop." you whisper, pushing your hips at his.

"You don't have to do that, sweetheart." he says, eyes clenched as tight as his sudden grip on the bed sheets curled around his left hand. You know he wants to fuck you, that he needs to cum after everything he's given you; the evidence is in your hand. However, you also know he'll deny himself for your sake.

"Let me take care of you." you whisper, lips tracing along his throat as your hand continues to work him, concentrating your movements towards the tip and earning a genuine whimper from him. The throaty, vulnerable sound from him makes your entire gut clench, and your lips latch onto his stubbly throat, your tongue lathing his freshly bathed skin.

"I took care of you because I wanted to help you feel better. I don't need anything in return." he replies, his voice low and quiet as he strains to keep it even.

"I want you to feel better, too."

Your hand is fully stroking him again, and by the time you notice the growing wet spot near your hand, he's leaning down and forcing his tongue back into your mouth, sighing contently as he pulls himself back between your legs. One hand softly kneads your left breast, his weight balanced on his elbow and knee as he works his shorts down, kicking them off the foot of the bed absentmindedly.

A subconscious sigh leaves you as you drink in the sight of him, his leaking cock laying, flushed red and painfully hard, against his toned stomach. Trying your best to ignore the way he smirks at you, easy as you wrap your legs around his hips, his hand moving between you to guide himself teasingly along your entrance. You sigh his name when the head of him finally catches and sinks fluidly into your warmth.

Your tense pelvic muscles ache in protest for a passing moment as they adjust to him, to his weight pressing into you, but as you breathe deep, the stretch eases away some of the strain, leaving you sighing with relief as he begins to gently fuck you.

He's soft and slow to begin with, watching your face closely as you adjust to him, burying his face in your neck and latching onto it with his lips as you finally take him to the hilt.

"Oh, Cooper." you sigh, gripping hard at his shoulders as you grind your clit against his pubic bone, the soft texture of his pubic hair adding to the mountain of sensations he's making you experience. "I needed this so bad."

Your admission seems to only fuel him, groaning as his fingers move to strum at your clit again, pressing practiced circles around the swollen little nub just like you'd shown him to do. The rough feeling of the small callous he has on his trigger finger drives you absolutely mad with pleasure, making you tighten around him as you cry out.

"Fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day." he confesses in a low, hushed tone as his hips continue to slap against yours, still mindful of where his weight is placed over you, but growing steadily more forceful in his movements. Soon, he has you built up into a sweaty mess, crying out for more of his touch, more of him in general as he holds your hips tight.

"I'm gonna cum, Coop." you pant, face red hot and damp as the rest of you as he continues to work back and forth between your thighs. The sudden feeling of his white teeth, sharp and strong, digging into the crook of your neck makes you whimper, and the sound seems to teleport him right to the exact same spot you're in.

"Shit, me too." he hisses, lips and tongue still attacking your neck as his hips quickly lose their rhythm, driving hard into you once, twice, three more times before he pulls back and shoots his load all over your soft stomach, growling like a wild animal as jet after jet of thick, sticky cum coats your flushed skin.

Once you've both come down from your high, you wiping pitifully at your sweaty face as he extracts himself from you as gently as possible, hand threading through his damp hair, you both chuckle, lying on your sides facing one another at the foot of the bed, catching your breaths. He grabs for your hand like he always does after you make love, holding it snug in the palm of his own as you bask in the afterglow.

The only difference now is that there's an engagement ring on your hand for him to play with. Seeing it on you seems to make him swell with pride, and that makes you feel warm inside.

"How does a nice, hot bath and some takeout sound?" he asks eventually, running his lips along your forehead as his hands massage at your lower back.

"Sounds amazing." you smirk, pulling back a few inches to look at him mischievously. "But I already had a super long, hot shower when I got home. Is double dipping allowed?"

Smirking at your coy playfulness, he pulls you up into his lap and snug against his chest, both of you wincing slightly at the slick, wet feeling of the mess all over both of your stomachs. The man never fails to produce quite a bit.

"Normally, I'd say no." he fires back matter-of-factually. "But considering the circumstances, I'll allow it this one time."

"You did make quite the mess." you chastise, but your words are quickly interrupted by him quickly snatching you up, hefting you into the air as he takes a moment to balance you both before making his way into the en suite bathroom.

"Well, one could argue that the mess is at least partially your fault, but I'm willing to take responsibility for my part and help tidy you up." he chuckles as he carries you towards the tub. "I'm very thorough in my cleaning."

"Promise?" you chuckle suggestively.

"Promise." he winks.

[loulovingho]

The Gables

Part 3 of my meeting the parents series. one more to go! all can be read individually, but they're better together. Start from the beginning here. Read part 3 below, or on ao3. tags are all on ao3.

It was about a three hour drive to Tommy's parents place in Hanford. It was south of Fresno, which Buck had been to a few times over the years, but he'd never paid attention to Hanford.

“It's relatively small,” Tommy had told him. “Most people don't notice it.”

It had been a week since Tommy had gotten the call from his mom. It was short, just under five minutes. If Buck was honest, not much was even said during those minutes, but when Tommy hung up he took a deep breath and asked Evan if he'd like to go for a day visit.

“I haven't been home in a year,” he'd said, “and mom needs help with a couple things.”

Tommy almost looked like he was about to be sick. His skin paled and there seemed to be a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. Against everything screaming in his mind, Buck didn't ask questions right then. He simply responded with a yes, that he'd be happy to come along, and left it at that.

Tommy didn't talk about his parents often. He'd mentioned that his dad was a lot like Gerrard, said his mom wasn't really the hugging type, but hadn't really divulged anything beyond that.

Buck could get him to open up about nearly everything in his life, even the uncomfortable stuff from his past that he still beat himself up over on occasion, but when it came to his parents and the life he had with them... there was a whole lot of nothing.

“Anything I should know before we get there?” Buck asked. He'd asked the question a couple of times over the past week, always getting the same answer.

“Uh, no. No, I don't think so.”

“Come on, Tommy, I gave you an entire presentation on the Buckley's before you met my parents. It's good to be prepared.”

Tommy let out an exasperated sigh. “I'm not sure there's a way to be prepared for the Kinard's, Evan. You can't really predict them.”

“Okay, so unpredictable. See, I can work with that.”

Buck's earnestness elicited a smile from Tommy. It was a good sight to see, seeing as he'd been pretty tense since they went to bed last night. He reached over and took Evan's hand, resting them over the center console. “I'm not trying to make it hard on you,” he said, “I promise. I just... I don't really know them all that well either. They're hard to describe. It's been a year, and the last time I was home it ended in my dad getting nearly blackout drunk and my mom throwing a frying pan at his head. She missed,” he reassured Evan, who was not very reassured, “but still, she tried. It was weird though, because the time before that, they were “so in love” and “couldn't be without each other”, which I had also never seen growing up. That's, you know, what I mean by unpredictable.”

Buck nodded, feeling a bit in over his head. “I see.”

“You'll be fine though,” he said, giving Buck's hand a squeeze. “It'll... It'll be fine.”

Buck wondered if Tommy knew just how unsure he sounded right now. It made the knots in Buck's stomach get even tighter.

*****

They drove for a little while after getting off the highway, turned down random street after street until Tommy turned into a neighborhood with a broken gate. 'The Gables Trailer Park' a sign read. The further they drove into The Gables, the more potholes filled the road, causing a fairly bumpy ride.

Trailers were spread out along the open, flat terrain. Some had grass around their homes, others dirt and rocks.

“Is this where you grew up?” Buck asked. He wasn't sure if he was headed to Tommy's childhood home, or a place his parents had moved after he left.

“Yeah, from about eight up. Before that we lived in an apartment in Fresno, but my dad's dad lived here. When he died, he left the place to dad, and it was cheaper than the apartment so we moved.”

They drove for about half a mile until Tommy pulled off the road in front of a trailer. It was an ivory color with brown trim. Looked like it hadn't been painted in quite a few years. There were panels covering parts of the lower half of the trailer, but gaps made it so you could still see underneath. This particular trailer wasn't set on grass, but on what was currently some muddy dirt thanks to the surprise rain storm they'd had the night before.

There was a blue tarp over part of the roof. A sign on the right side of the door informed that trespassers would be shot, while a sign on the left side told them to beware of dog.

“They don't have a dog,” Tommy said, apparently reading Buck's mind. “And dad had to give up his guns like five years ago. Ready?”

Tommy opened his door and got out before Buck had the chance to ask the nearly fifty questions that were popping into his mind. First on the list was asking why his dad had to give up his guns? He'd have to remember that question for later.

He took a deep breath and got out of the truck, straightening out his jacket before he shut the door behind him.

Tommy waited for Buck at the front of the truck, holding out his hand as Buck stepped closer to him. “It'll be fine,” Tommy said, pulling Buck close. “Just remember, no matter what, we're leaving by five.”

When they got to the front door, Tommy knocked twice, then let go of Buck's hand while they waited.

“Sometimes they don't hear the first knock,” he said after a few seconds, then knocked again.

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” A woman yelled, swinging the door open. “I'm old, you gotta give me more time.”

“Hi, Mom,” Tommy greeted. Her eyes moved quickly from him to Buck, who gave her a smile.

“You brought someone.” She sounded unimpressed.

“This is Evan Buckley, Mom. He goes by Buck. Evan, this is my mom, Alice.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kinard.” Buck held his hand out for a shake. She hesitated, wiped her hand off with the hand towel she was holding, then shook.

“Buck,” she replied simply.

She was a small woman, no more than 5'2. Her white hair was pulled back in a bun, and she didn't seem to wear makeup the way Buck's mom did. She wore a red t-shirt and blue jeans, socks but no shoes, and no smile anywhere in sight.

“Well, come in,” she said, waving the hand towel in their direction. “Don't want the flies coming in.”

The second Buck walked in his nose began to burn. The place reeked of cigarettes, with a faint scent of beer that lingered in the air.

“I got a list of things I need you to do while you're here today,” she said, shutting the door behind them. “Your friend can help if you need him to. Go say hello to your dad while I get the list from the kitchen.”

The living room was to the right, and when Buck looked over he could see a man sitting in a recliner, facing away from them, watching TV.

Tommy sucked in a deep breath before heading over to him, Buck following a couple steps behind.

“Dad,” he started.

His dad turned away from the TV long enough to give both he and Buck a glance, then turned back. “Didn't know we'd have company today.”

“Mom didn't tell you I was coming?”

“She told me you were coming.”

Tommy rubbed anxiously at the back of his neck. Buck wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, hold his hand, stroke his back, press a reassuring kiss to his shoulder. He knew none of those things were good options at the moment.

“Right. Um, Dad, this is Buck. Buck, this is Frank.”

“Hello, Mr. Kinard. Nice to meet you.” He didn't try to shake his hand. Frank was too focused on whatever show he was watching.

“Mm,” he grunted. “Tommy, get me another beer while you're up.”

Tommy brought his hand to Buck's elbow, “You can sit if you want,” he said quietly. “I'll be right back.”

Buck nodded, walked over to the couch and sat.

He looked around, taking the place in. Almost everything inside looked like it came out of the 80's. A floral sofa, grayed in the places it used to be white. A brown recliner that Frank sat in. The TV had an antenna, and there was an old stereo in the corner. None of the furniture matched, and magazines and newspapers sat on top of most of the flat surfaces.

Buck spared an extra look or two at Frank, trying to find any resemblance between him and Tommy. He couldn't.

Frank had leathery skin, with salt and pepper hair. His wasn't curly the way Tommy's was when he didn't have any product in it. There were no laughter lines on his face, which was on Buck's favorite things about Tommy. He wore a white shirt that fit tight over his beer belly, and stretchy shorts with bleach stains. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and his short beard came in patchy. He seemed tall, but not quite 6'2.

The sound of Frank's voice brought Buck out of his thoughts.

“I'm sorry, Sir, what was that?” he asked, noticing that Frank was looking in his direction.

Buck had gone over a list of potential questions in his head, and the way he'd answer them.

“We met on a rescue mission. We've been together nearly a year now. I moved in just after Christmas. I know some would think it's too fast, but when you know you know. You've raised a great man.”

There was not a single part of him that ever anticipated the question he got instead.

“So, which one's the boy and which one's the girl?”

Buck stared at him, dumbfounded. “I- um, there's-”

“Don't know how many times I gotta say it, Dad,” Tommy said, walking back into the room with a beer in hand, “there is no girl. That'd kinda ruin the whole being gay thing for me.”

Frank grabbed the beer from Tommy, leaned over and popped the cap off on the side table. “Sure would make it a lot better for me.”

Tommy went to open his mouth, but Alice cut him off. “Come get the list!” she called from the kitchen. “Need to get started so you're done by this evening.”

*****

They didn't talk about Frank or Alice while Buck helped Tommy fix the bathroom sink. He just handed him the tools whenever Tommy asked.

Nothing was mentioned while they changed lightbulbs, or rehung a picture in the main bedroom, or moved a piece of furniture out of the house and onto the side of the road for trash pickup. They both stayed relatively silent until they headed into the spare bedroom for Tommy to fix the fan.

“Was this your room?” Buck asked, looking around for signs of young Tommy.

There didn't seem to be any.

“It was,” Tommy replied.

There was an old bed in the room with a brown and yellow quilt on top. An oak dresser in the corner with newspapers poking out of the drawers. The closet door was ajar, the inside so filled with boxes that it couldn't shut all the way. The paint was chipping from the walls, and there was a dampness in the air from a window that was left open about an inch.

“Is anything in here yours?” Buck asked as Tommy stood on the bed to get started on the fan.

“Um,” he glanced around, spotting a cowboy hat on a chair in the corner. “That hat was mine,” he said. “I used to pretend I was a cowboy when I was little.”

Buck smiled at the thought. He went over and picked up the hat. He tried to imagine a little Tommy running around, faking a country accent with a worn red and black cowboy hat.

“I need to get you one of these for home,” Buck said. “Maybe some boots, a western shirt, chaps.”

“Oh God,” Tommy shuddered. “That sounds like quite possibly the worst role-play of all time.”

Buck tilted his head, eying Tommy up and down, imagining. “I don't know, sounds pretty good to me.”

“I can't even see you right now, but I know you're looking at me like that, and it's making it very difficult for me to concentrate.”

Buck laughed. “Okay, okay. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to stand there and look pretty, but not too pretty.”

“So, you don't really need my help?”

Tommy stopped messing with the fan to smile down at him. “I always need your help, Evan.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “That's a no then. I think I'll go see if your mom needs any help.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He patted Tommy's shin before heading for the door. “I'm sure I'll survive, Cowboy,” he said, earning a snort from Tommy.

*****

While Tommy continued with the fan, Buck made his way toward the kitchen where Alice was fixing a late lunch.

“Mrs. Kinard, is there anything I can help you with?”

She sighed, like he was disturbing her peace. “You know how to chop lettuce?”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

She grabbed a head of iceberg lettuce and plopped it down on the kitchen table with a knife and a bowl. “Frank doesn't know how to do anything in the kitchen,” she said, motioning for him to sit and get to it. “At least he pretends he doesn't. Been pretending for forty-eight years.”

“You two have been together a long time. You're lucky.”

She snorted. “Don't know if I'd say that. But, we're lifers.”

Buck chopped the lettuce carefully, as though he were going to get graded on his ability. He wanted it to look perfect.

“Can I ask you a question about Tommy?” Buck asked.

“You can try,” she replied. “Not sure I'll be able to answer.”

“I was just wondering what he was like as a kid? He's only has a couple pictures of himself when he was young, but most are from his time in the army.”

“I'm sure I've got some laying around here somewhere,” Alice answered, grabbing up some more vegetables and sitting down across from Buck. She eyed his lettuce for a moment, then set a couple tomatoes in front of him.

It felt like getting an A+ on a report card.

“Tommy was a busy kid. Always running around, getting into trouble. Never really told me much about what he was doing, but when he got caught... Well, it would've been better if he hadn't.”

Buck wanted to ask what she meant, but a part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He didn't have to wonder long, Alice continuing as she chopped an onion.

“He stole fireworks from a shop when he was twelve, set them off in the woods outback. Nearly started a forest fire.” She shook her head. “Kid couldn't sit right for a week after Frank was done with him.”

Buck wasn't sure what to say to that, so he opted to move past it completely. “What about when he got older?”

“He was real quiet in high school. Didn't make friends easily. Smart though. Graduated early, but then he got bored. Running around here and there, no steady job, nothing. That's when Frank drove him to the recruiters office in Fresno. Told him he either signed up or pitched him a tent on the street somewhere. He left for basic a couple months before his eighteenth birthday.”

“He was only seventeen?” Buck asked, wide eyed. In all his army stories, Tommy had never mentioned the fact he was seventeen when he joined, and Buck himself had never thought of it as a possibility. He knew he was young, but the idea that Tommy couldn't even vote when he started his career in the military was especially baffling.

“Yup. Frank said it'd be the best thing for him. He was probably right.”

“H- He must've been scared,” Buck said quietly, mostly to himself, but Alice heard.

“Being scared's a part of life,” she replied coldly. “You overcome it, get better for it.” She gathered the onion she had been slicing and took it over to the stove, tossing them into a pan.

There was about a minute of silence before she spoke again. “You really like him, don't you?”

Buck looked up to see her watching him, probably noticing the fact that he still looked worried over everything he'd heard about young Tommy.

He was surprised by the question, but didn't hesitate in his answer. “Yes, Ma'am, I do.”

“Mm.” She turned back to her pan. “That's good, I guess. He's been alone a long time. Needs somebody.”

*****

When it came time for lunch, Buck, Tommy, and Alice ate in the kitchen while Frank opted to stay in the living room. It was a rather quiet lunch, except for when Buck complimented Alice's cooking. She sat up straighter at that, and went into a story about finding ten cookbooks on the side of the road a few weeks before she married Frank. She took them all and spent those weeks teaching herself how to follow along to with the recipes.

The conversation lasted all of five minutes, but it was better than five more minutes spent in awkward silence.

It was almost three by the time lunch was over, but the only way Buck knew that was because Tommy kept glancing at the clock on the wall. He knew what he was doing, checking to see when it was time for them to leave. He knew Tommy couldn't wait to get out of there, and Buck couldn't really blame him.

Tommy excused himself to the restroom as they began to clean up from lunch.

Alice went to go get Frank's dish, but Buck stopped her.

“I'll get it,” he offered innocently.

He didn't see her open her mouth to stop him, already making his way to Frank.

“Can I get you another beer, Mr. Kinard?” Buck asked, picking up the plate from the side table.

Instead of answering, Frank turned his head from the TV to look at Buck, staring him up and down. “Perfect waitress you are,” he grunted out. “I suppose you'll make a good woman for my boy.”

And maybe it was the long drive, or the fact he had no idea what he was walking into when he agreed to come along for this day trip, or the fact he'd been quiet about so many god-awful things that he'd heard, but Buck was at the end of his “just stay silent” rope.

He cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me?”

“There's roles in every relationship,” Frank explained poorly. “I worried about my son for a while, but it's good to know he's still the man.”

“Did you not hear him earlier? When he told you there was no woman in our relationship? He seemed pretty clear about that.”

“Eh,” Frank waved him off. “There's a natural order to things. You'll see it soon enough.”

The second Tommy walked out of the bathroom and saw Buck staring down at Frank with a look of pure disgust, he knew something was wrong.

“What did you say, Dad?” he asked.

Buck looked up at him, his expression changing. “Doesn't matter,” he said.

“I said he'll make a good woman for you,” Frank repeated confidently. “He's your little sidekick, helps your mom cook, cleans the kitchen, picks up after the men. May not look the part, but he's close enough.”

There was a look in Tommy's eyes that Buck had never seen before. It was beyond terrifying.

Buck tried to smooth it over. “Tommy, it's-”

“I have spent,” Tommy spoke slowly, staring daggers into his dad, “this entire damn day fixing things that you're just too lazy to fix your damn self. I invited Evan along thinking maybe you'd see how happy we are, maybe you'd notice what a good person he is, and how much better he makes me. I did not bring him here to be mistreated by you."

“See,” Frank smiled up at him. His smile didn't reach the eyes the way Tommy's did. “You're saving your damsel.”

“Evan doesn't need saving. He's perfectly capable of standing up for himself, he's just been too nice to do it because, unlike you, he's not an asshole.”

Frank pointed at Tommy, still not bothering to get out of his chair. “You watch yourself,” he warned. “I was polite enough to let two fairies in my house today. I deserve some respect.”

Buck could see the white, blinding rage taking over Tommy. It took Buck about two seconds to move around and step in front of him, stopping Tommy from advancing on his dad. “Don't,” he said, pressing his hand against Tommy's chest. Tommy's eyes moved from Frank to Evan. Buck could feel his heart pounding. “It's not worth it,” Buck continued. “Let's just go, okay?”

Tommy pursed his lips together, but nodded. “Yeah, I- let's go.”

Thankfully, Frank kept his mouth shut as Buck placed a hand on Tommy's back and led them to the door.

“Wait a minute!” Alice demanded rather loudly.

“Mom-”

“You can sit in your truck,” she clarified, “but wait there. I'll just be a minute.”

Buck was going to offer to drive, but the second they got outside Tommy made a beeline for the driver's seat.

Once the car had been started and they were settled into their seats, Buck took a deep breath. “Tommy-”

“I can't right now, Evan,” Tommy interrupted. He was on edge, hands shaking, leg bouncing up and down as they waited for Alice to come out. “I'm sorry, but I can't.”

“That's fine,” Buck replied. He meant it. He understood what it meant to feel overwhelmed. When you needed a second with your own thoughts to process what just happened.

Buck rolled down the window when Alice came walking out with something in her hands.

Through the window she handed Buck a very old, very worn photo album. “Not sure what all's in there, but I'm sure a few of the pictures have Tommy,” she said. “I haven't looked through it in years. Not like I need it anymore.”

Buck ignored the pain in his heart at her words. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“Mhm.” She looked past him to Tommy. “I'll call you if the fan stops working again. May need you to come back. Probably best you come alone next time.”

Tommy nodded. He cleared his throat, managed a broken, “Yeah, Mom, okay,” before they drove off.

[invidiia]

oh my god the yan!dazai x willing reader fic😭 i love reading this type of content (its a trauma response but the idea of someone obsessing over me brings me comfort </3)

Can you write something more for yan!dazai and reader? Like dazai somehow forgets his keys at home giving reader full access to run away/call for help, but when he comes back running to his apartment worried he sees them cooking something for him and what surprises him the most is the fact that he didn’t have most of the ingredients which means that they went outside to buy them and actually came back <3

❐ - yandere osamu dazai (bsd) with a reader who to left the house to make dinner.

note ; HII thank you for requesting!! and the beginning of the request really made me think, and i realized you were completely right and i relate deeply !! on another topic besides the request, i feel bad about writing ever since character ai came about, because what's the point of writing fics and hcs for people who can just make everything they want happen with ai?! but i'll continue, of course!! alsoo ada dazai

prompt ; dazai's beloved cooks for him after he left for the store.

warning ; kidnapping, possibly soft!yandere dazai AT FIRST, mentioned suicide (it's dazai)

masterlist - rules - previous work

when dazai finally trusts you enough to be by yourself while he went out to run errands, it was like you felt relief for the first time in years. maybe it was.

he didn't specify what he was doing, but he did seem like he would be out for a long time. but for whatever reason in the world, you didn't exactly plan to fully escape from him. maybe you were on something, because anybody else would have went as far as they could.

dazai kissed the top of your top of your head affectionately. "my dear," he addressed to you, his voice sweet, just like every other time he spoke. "i have to run errands, okay? can you promise me that you'll be good while i'm gone?" dazai rested his head on top of yours, holding you closely to his chest in a tight hug. you nodded your head against him, and he smiled. "i'll be off now, my love." and with that, dazai walked out the door, completely forgetting his keys on the table.

maybe you were drugged, high or some kind of intoxicated, because anyone would be overjoyed to see that their kidnapper left their keys with them, and they'd try to leave! i mean, dazai was normally cautious - how stupid of him this evening.

but for just some reason, any reason in the world, you didn't leave the house for freedom. instead it was for.. groceries? dazai did feed you often, but it was usually food from a local place that he liked a lot more than cooking, hence the reason there were barely any ingredients to make dinner with.

maybe you were doing this to gain trust and then turn your back on him later? well, it was too late, dazai left the keys here, and you were free to escape. so the first place you decided to go? the grocery store.

walking through the produce isle, you turned your head anxiously, looking behind your back to see if dazai found out you left and followed you. but no one was there, not at all. you were safe.

you gathered up money from inside your pockets when the man first took you - enough to buy a couple vegetables, a bag of rice, and a bit of chicken. that was enough for tonight!

upon your return to the apartment, nobody was there, so you got to work, having not been caught by dazai on your little outing to the store.

it was pretty easy to make fried rice. you found yourself in the kitchen chopping vegetables to put into the frying pan while you seasoned the chicken. dazai didn't have a ton of seasoning in his cabinets.. guess this guy liked his stuff plain? but you worked with what you had, and you were able to make a pretty damn good plate of chicken fried rice. the meal was perfect, and you had just finished when the door opened up. it was dazai. the brunette man opened up the door rather quickly, slipping inside the apartment. "belladonna.. this smells amazing!"

dazai was quick to praise your cooking, even telling you that he didn't want to eat your masterpiece in hopes of ruining it, but you told him to sit down and just eat it.

and that he did, and he loved it! he didn't act like anything was wrong, it went perfect! he praised your cooking skills the entire time while he ate.

even you forgot that you snuck out to retrieve your ingredients!

"belladonna," dazai spoke, sweetly. you were both nearing the end of the meal, with just two bites of the food left on the plate. "your cooking is absolutely perfect, you know that? i almost forgot that we didn't have any vegetables in the house." you tensed up. this was such a stupid idea, sneaking out to get ingredients for your meal. "i found those in the cabinet, you brought them home one night. don't you remember?" you lied nervously, biting up the inside of your mouth while you just silently begged he would believe you. "i would never think about willingly buying bell peppers unless i planned to cook such a meal. why would you leave the apartment, dear?" dazai slid his chair back, stepping towards you with his hands in his pockets. this was stupid, a stupid mistake that you can't undo. "no matter.. you didn't run away.. so what am i to do with you?" he grabbed a lock of your hair, pulling it upwards so you could face him. you cried out, whimpering in pain - but he paid no attention to it, looking you in the eye. "let's see."

[ddejavvu]

Seeing Aaron for the first time with the fbi vest on 👀 the vest stays ON 😉

just know i wanted this to have the same energy as the scene where derek gets shot and he flashes his bandaged abs at penelope and she just pets them like 😵

--

The door clicks shut behind you, soft and smooth. It's a sound you're well accustomed to now, and not even the soft sizzle of the oil in your frying pan can trick you into ignoring it. You've got a trained ear for the click, because it means that Aaron's home.

He closes the door near-silently because he's nervous about waking Jack up. Even though it's mid-afternoon, old habits die hard.

As it happens, today is a day that Jack naps. He's passed out, spread starfish over your bed, head on Aaron's pillow and leg thrown over one of yours. You'd run him ragged at the playground today, and you're using the down time to make yourself some stir-fry.

"Aaron," You call, your voice a soft hum so that it doesn't disturb Jack from the other room, "In the kitchen."

"Hi, honey." He murmurs, arms slipping around you from behind, "Early day today, we just helped the local PD with an arrest. They needed a door-breaker, and Morgan is legend. 'Figured I'd let everyone off early to get some lunch."

You let out a soft laugh at the mention of his bulky agent, you'd recommend him for the job, too. You turn your head to press your lips sloppily against his, an awkward angle but a sweet gesture. He reciprocates as best he can, eyes fluttering shut.

"Jack here?" Aaron inquires after you part, nose tucked into your neck.

"Yeah," You hum, eyes on your stir-fry as it sizzles, though you're leaning into Aaron practically hard enough to knock him down, "He's napping. I wore him out at the park."

"Good job," Aaron chuckles, squeezing your waist. He makes to toe off his shoes by the door, but when he separates from you a soft rrrip is heard, one that strikes fear into your heart for the pretty blouse you're wearing.

"What-?" You peer down, expecting to see a hole in your shirt. Instead, you catch a thick black strap that hangs off of Aaron's chest, in fact, there's several, lining up and down his- oh, fuck.

He's wearing his bulletproof vest. The dark grey material molds tight to his abdomen, straps stretching around his torso. It only adds heft to his build, something that makes your mouth water. If Aaron notices any drool, he attributes it to the smell of the stir-fry on the stove.

"You..." You reach out to brush your finger over the bottom of the vest, "You brought home your vest?"

"Kind of forgot about it," He shrugs, watching the cloudy look in your eyes, "Everything okay?"

"Mhm," You hum casually, "Yeah that's- this is more than okay. It's... is this something you wear a lot?"

"Uh, every time I think someone might have a gun," He chuckles bewilderedly, "What is up with you?"

"Nothing." You breathe, looking up at him dazedly. He's staring at you, entirely unconvinced, but he doesn't have time to drill you any more when you take hold of his chin, dragging him into a kiss.

If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. You feel his hands encase your cheeks, pulling you closer even if your hands are doing so around his sides. You brace your palms against his vest, feeling the way that it gives him an extra layer of stomach, like a muscle of it's own, always flexed.

"Not that I'm-" Aaron speaks, but his words muffle when you keep pressing incessant kisses to his bottom lip, "-complaining, but- what is this about?"

"You look damn good in that vest, Hotchner." You purr, stir-fry the last thing on your mind as your thigh comes up to stick to his side, "Jack's asleep on our bed, just take me here."

"Uh, wow." His eyes widen, not negatively so, though, as a laugh escapes his throat. You're tempted to swallow it, but you're more focused on his neck, now, nipping down the heated skin.

"First of all," He reaches forward to turn off the stove, nudging the pan onto a back burner, "Sex would be unpleasant in a burning building. And second," He grips your thigh in one hand, fingers digging roughly into your flesh so that it bulges between his fingers, "The kitchen counter won't be comfortable for you. Let's do the couch instead, honey."

[not-goldy]

Shout out to young JM who wanted Jk so bad it had him looking like a stage 3 clinger & shout out to Jk who has done everything in his power to keep that beautiful man once he had him & now a stage 6 clinger. Congrats. I keep thinking about when they were in NY the Megan BTB & how all those bags are sitting there & Jk instinctively grabs 2 and you see JM realizing Jk has his & doesn't have to get one, when the other members are holding theirs. SNIFFS. Its Jj carrying JM's bags & his shoes when they come off his feet. Rubbing his shoulders at any given point, cause one he wants to touch JM, but also knows JM is in pain all the time. Its him cooking the biggest pancake for JM & telling JM of course, you know I'll do it, when JM asked him to cook for him. Or only buying birthday presents for JM. Its him telling JM in front of the world, I'm your fan & hyping everything he does. Its him wanting to cut something cause he doesn't want JM's hand to get hurt or when Vmin were playing with a yoyo, it was JM who was given a lecture on Safety by Jk, about his fingers hurting & this is how accidents happen. Not a word when Tae was playing with it, but the minute JM gets it, his anxiety & boyfriending kicked in, just like when Tae was gonna flip his food & Jk said don't fling it at JM. Jk Coming after Suga with a Frying pan. Bulldozing RM out the way messing with JM. Physically moving Suga away from JM. Bulldozing past Tae to stand directly in front of JM & stare directly at him, when he was thanking Army for an award. Damn, he's just giving a TY speech, not accepting a nobel peace prize, Calm down. The way he guides JM walking up the steps or lets him walk ahead of him. The way he could hear the nervousness in JM's tone & he turns & nods and stares JM down giving his UN speech. Just reassuring JM with his little head nod, I'm here, beside you, you got this & if you notice it was when Jk turned to him when JM let out that deep breath/shudder & said sorry & had to shake it off. Just seeing JK's reassurance almost caused him to loose it. The way the others teased JM over it & Jk jumped to his defense, ready to take on all his Hyungs, but it was him in the end, who couldn't remember when he took a picture with Tae & said it was the day JM said sorry, it was all that stuck in his head. Every little detail he remembers. Even Jimin's grandma's birthday. There within 1 minute when JM called him on his bday live, dropping everyone. Even When he's missing JM he takes it public in front of millions and shows where his heart lies. Who owns his heart. Who he loves & doesn't care if he looks like a fool, as long as people know he's a fool in love. Look at how he chose the buddy system with JM, when he knew he had options & he & JM are complete opposites when it comes to thrill seeking. And how he has made himself look even more sus & clingy, by even saying anything about other branches (BTW his wants are valid and its very much okay if he wanted to do other things) but he still didn't go through with it & instead went through a timely process and enlisted with JM instead. Didn't even enlist on your own that would give you independence and thrills and instead followed JM with the buddy system to hell.

The things we do for love. And If he hasn't told JM yet that he is in love with him, which I am sure he has and or JM at least feels it, but if he hasn't, I hope he gets the courage too one day, cause doing all this, plus following someone to depths of hell, is an awful lot of loving on one person, for it to be for nothing. To do all this for someone, then go home empty handed. What a hell you have to live in that you created for yourself. FYI, I think JM is just as in love with Jk and he appreciates everything, because Letter says it & that he plans to give it all back, what he's received, and I know JM is a man of his word. In fact, I'd say Jk is pretty damn satisfied & gets it back, cause he's still there, standing next to JM, just like he promised. I've never rooted so hard in my life for two people, but these two, I hope it all works out for them and Whatever kind of love it is that they have for one another. I hope it lasts forever.

Damn the onions got my eyes😭😭😭😭🤧

[quixotical-lymbo]

Hello! I read your Daredevil Darling fic for Macaque and loved it so much! I was wondering if you would do it for Wukong too to have his perspective on it

Pairing: Wukong x gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: You've had it up to here with your boyfriend, now it's time to show him that you're not a wimp. Warnings/Tags: Slight angst, implied self-harm, well, not really implied when it's clear as day-, argument, self-deprecation, hurt/comfort. Word Count: 900+ words

"You're officially an idiot."

"How can you be so stupid?" 

"Why the fuck did you do that?" 

And many other things you began spewing out as you awaited for your second execution. Exaggerations aside, you were totally and utterly fucked when your boyfriend arrives. 

How did you end up lying in the middle of your living room with both hands wrapped in gauze? Well, it all started when you and Wukong were in a little iffy mood with each other during date night at his place. From playing video games together, to board games, then finally playing truth or dare, which ended terribly. The two of you had a mean streak going on, neither of you were backing down from the most atrocious dares that were said. 

"You better give up now, buttercup, I just can't lose."

"Says you! I dare you to lick the bottom of the couch while doing a handstand using your nails only!" 

"Pfft, fine! Then you have to hold a hot pan that's been in the oven for ten seconds! Oh wait, I forgot, you can't." 

"I can!" 

"Nuh uh." "Yuh huh!" "Nuh uh." "Yuh huh!" "Nuh uh." "Yuh HUH-!" 

You get the picture. 

That one sentence stuck with you during your little fight with Wukong and set off the rest of the events that resulted in you almost frying your hands off.

"Look, peaches, it's not like I'm saying you can't do some pretty amazing ultra cool stuff, but you're not…well, me…soooo, please don't get yourself hurt cause you wanna act all high and mighty." 

Maybe he was right. Now you feel pretty shitty after trying to prove him wrong days after that eventful night. If it wasn't for Mei barging into your apartment/home to drag you out to hangout, you wouldn't have been able to call for help, much less leave your apartment without damaging your hands even more. After tending to your burns with her help and begging her not to call an ambulance, you were left to await Wukong's arrival after Mei had decided to contact him instead. 

The slam from your front door made you wince as you looked in the direction blocked by your sofa. Wukong's face popped around the furniture as he lowered his gaze onto your pitiful form; you were laid out on your rug with a pillow under your head and bandaged arms resting on your stomach. Mei slowly appeared out from behind your boyfriend tapping both of her index fingers together, she mumbled a farewell before booking it out of your place. 

Wukong knelt beside you and placed a hand over your left one. His touch was gentle enough to not cause you to hiss in pain from the applied pressure as he poked around your injury. 

"I-"

"I don't want to hear it." 

You clamped your mouth shut and furrowed your brow as Wukong continued staring at your hands, his expression tight and void of any emotion that would suggest that he was upset. No,  no, if anything he looked..disappointed?

You felt sick to your stomach. You would have greatly preferred him screaming obscenities at you than…whatever this was.

You couldn't hold your gaze on him anymore and opted to stare at the ceiling. 

Wukong took a deep breath before exhaling slowly, he rubbed the side of his head as he carefully examined your hands. 

"I don't know what possessed you into doing this or…or thinking this is alright, but I know damn well it better not be because of some stupid dare that I joked about days ago." 

"How was I supposed to know you were joking," You grumbled under your breath.

Wukong stared at you. 

You glared back. 

Wukong narrowed his eyes and scoffed.

Your gaze wavered as the need to blink caused you to look away first. 

"..." Wukong called out your name sternly. When you didn't turn to look at him, Wukong threw his hands up in defeat. "Why do…this? Out of everything you could've done-!"

"-and not take the chance to prove that I'm able to do things like you? Oh, I'm so sorry your majesty, please let me hear all about how fucking weak I am," Your nose crinkled as you fought back the sting in your eyes, but that didn't stop your voice from cracking. 

 

"...are you…?" Wukong blinked back his shock as he shook his head and was so frustrated he could only stammer the rest of his words out. "Are you serious? I don't…no, I…why would I think you're weak-"

Wukong paused as he recalled what he had said that day, his eyes squeezed shut as he placed a hand on your bicep. 

"Oh no, hun, no, no…I'm-"

You sniffed as you shrugged off his hand. Wukong's frown deepened as he reached for you again, but decided to keep his hands to himself. 

"Why didn't you tell me? Or better yet, shut me up? Y'know I say dumb stuff sometimes, I-" Wukong bit his lip. Finding the words to articulate the feelings stirring in his heart was tough. "-I'm sorry, alright? I probably should've taken the taunts down a notch,  but I'm not a mind reader, I couldn't have known it'd bother you this much when you haven't said anything to me…and…and you usually handle my teasing well! I…I'm sorry, I really am." 

If his soft pleas didn't rope you in already, then him curling up beside you with his tail around your ankle did. Not to mention the onslaught of cheesy compliments he began whispering to you. Your cheeks were practically as hot as the pan you burned yourself with as Wukong added kisses with each sorry. You glanced at him and sighed after a few seconds of his overwhelming display of affection.

"Can you…help me till 'm better?" 

"Of course," Wukong smiled as you carefully scooted closer to him. "Anything for you, peaches, just…please let me know if I'm being a jerk next time" 

"Alright," You snorted as you placed your head against Wukong's chest. Wukong made sure he wasn't putting pressure on your hands as he carried you from the floor and walked you over to your bedroom. 

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight!!

[apomaro-mellow]

Wrong Number 3

(2:21 am) I just realized something (2:21 am) Ur a cooking teacher (2:22 am) Who can't fry a egg (2:23 am) You're a fraud 🫵

[7:29 am] I can fry an egg just fine I just can't make the yolks runny. It's too hard to time it right. And why are you up thinking about eggs at 2 am?

(7:47 am) I was up thinking about you at 2 am

Steve felt his stomach flip as he sipped his coffee and set his belongings down in his classroom. Eddie didn't play games. He always said exactly what he was thinking. And it drew Steve wild.

(7:48 am) And about how your students might clown on you for not being able to scramble an egg

[7:49] Aww you're worried about me?

(7:49 am) Kids can be little monsters (7:50 am) Actually how old are the little monsters you teach?

[7:51] Youngest is 6 and oldest is 14. Speaking of, they'll be arriving soon so...

(7:52 am) Godspeed you academic warrior

Eddie didn't typically text so late on weeknights. Not since learning Steve was a teacher. It was just that he truly HAD been up and thinking of him. Steve drove him crazy and he thought he was doing a good job keeping a lid on it. 2 am texts were what happened when the lid got loose but Steve didn't seem put off by it.

At about half past three, Steve called him. Eddie was glad he made that leap with his first call. The sound of Steve's voice never failed to warm him through. Eddie was in the middle of collecting axes for sharpening at the end of his shift.

"What's cookin' good lookin'?", Eddie greeted as he picked up.

"Today was good. Had a really riveting conversation about meatloaf versus pate with the kids", Steve said.

"Meatloaf rocks and pate is just cold meatloaf for rich people. End of discussion."

"Well, we talked about it for like fifteen minutes. Had a real interesting tangent on forcemeats in general."

Eddie paused. "Excuse me?"

"You'd be surprised at what kids are into. This one I taught last year was really into rice-"

"I need you to backtrack just a bit. 'Forcemeat'?"

"Yeah it's-oh grow up", Steve chided while shaking his head. He had just gotten home and was taking off his work clothes for something more comfortable. He thought about what Eddie might think he'd look nice in. "Not even my 12 year olds are this childish."

There was something about the way Steve talked about his students. Like they were his actual children. The conversation continued for a few minutes more before Steve suddenly had to hang up. Eddie tried not to think much of it, but it wasn't the first time that it had happened.

Steve ended the call just as Robin came into the apartment. She narrowed her eyes at him, then looked to the phone in his hand. Steve hid it behind his back and winced at practically telling on himself.

"You're hiding something."

"No I'm not."

"And now you're lying to me."

"No I'm not!"

Robin pounced and wrestled him for the phone. It wasn't a real fight of course. Steve could've pinned her in seconds but a part of him was tired of keeping the secret. And obviously, she knew how to unlock his phone.

"Who's Eddie?", she asked, sitting on his back triumphantly.

"A guy."

"Thank you, I had no idea it could be a man's name. You've been texting him aaaaaaa llllllllllllot."

"Are you reading them!? Robin!"

"Where did you meet him?", Robin said as she got up, continuing to read through their conversations.

"I um, technically, haven't. Yet."

Robin gave him an odd look and Steve spilled everything to her. To her credit, Robin listened to the full story before throwing one of the couch pillows at him.

"Stephen Elliott Harrington! Did no one teach you stranger danger? You just kept texting him? And calling? And I saw the pictures you sent. You know he can find out where we live? What if I came home to your skinless corpse??!"

It went on for a while like that and when Robin was finished, she collapsed onto the couch. Steve sat across from her on the coffee table. He waited for her to silently process it all.

"You think he's cute?"

"What I've seen of him, yeah."

Robin sighed. "I can't believe you're turning into the guy who has a internet girlfriend."

Steve rolled his eyes but then balked when she started to read through his messages again.

"And I can't believe you haven't even started flirting yet."

"I've been flirting with him the whole time!" Maybe not the whole time but-

"You're giving him Diet Steve. Why are you holding back?"

Steve shrugged, looking sheepish now. Now Robin was rolling her eyes.

"Steve, we're getting you a date."

"But he's-"

"A virtual one. Jesus is he an axe murderer?", Robin said as she looked to one of the texts.

"No, he just works with them. Axes! Not murderers."

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

Eddie was about to sit down to a movie when his phone buzzed.

[5:17 pm] Thinking about you.

Oh. Now that was some text to get.

(5:18 pm) Oh yeah? (5:18 pm) What about me?

Steve looked to Robin. They were sitting cross-legged next to each other on his bed.

"What do I say?"

"Be honest, duh."

"If I'm honest I'm gonna talk about his hands."

Robin shook her hands at him like she wanted to wring his neck. Steve got the idea and decided to put himself out there.

[5:21 pm] Your hands. I think about them a lot actually

Eddie had not given his own hands much thought. But knowing that Steve admired them, he gave them a second look. He thought about them gripping Steve's thighs.

(5:23) You're gonna make me blush (5:24) What would you do with my hands Stevie?

Steve panicked and looked to Robin. "Are we sexting? Is he getting me to sext?"

"That's the idea, dingus. I said I was getting you a date. Now tell him what you want him to do."

"I don't know I'd....I'd want to..." Steve trailed off, looking at his phone while the fingers of his other hand brushed against his lips.

Robin stole the phone from him again and started typing. "'First...I'd suck..on them'."

"Robin!"

"Is that not what you want?"

Steve shrugged and Robin continued. "You've got me on the clock for five more minutes before I go out. You dictate, I'll type."

Steve hated how much he liked the idea. Especially when he heard the ping of Eddie's reply. "What did he say?"

Robin cleared her throat. "'Yeah? You wanna suck on them? I bet you got a beautiful mouth.' Oh he's good."

"Yeah", Steve breathed out. "Really good." He thought about Eddie sticking his fingers in and pressing down on his tongue, his rings tasting metallic and so nice.

"'I wanna choke on them'", Robin said out loud as she typed. "Is it too soon to call him Daddy?"

"What?!" That snapped Steve out of it.

"Oh come on. Tattoos, the hair, his job. He wants to be called Daddy."

"Robin don't call him Daddy."

"Pops?"

Steve took his phone from her and looked to Eddie's reply.

(5:30 pm) I'd only choke you if you were being bad (5:30 pm) Are you gonna be bad baby?

[5:31 pm] Maybe. I can be good too. So good.

(5:32 pm) Lemme call you baby wanna hear you

Steve dialed without hesitation just as Robin was leaving. Her work was done.

"Don't get murdered while I'm out!", she shouted just as Eddie picked up.

"Hey pretty baby", Eddie said.

"Hey. You said you wanted to hear me?"

"Yeah. I wanna hear you say those things with your own voice."

"Like how I wanna choke on your fingers? Among other things?"

Steve could hear Eddie let out a breath on the other end. The power he felt right now was intoxicating.

"Bet you'd look so good on your knees."

Steve hummed while pressing his fingertips to his lips. If Eddie asked, he'd suck on them. Let the wet noises fill his ears, let Eddie know how good he could be.

"Darlin' you went quiet."

"I'm thinking", Steve said, laying down on his bed. "I wanna show you, Eddie."

Eddie swallowed. This man would be the death of him. He'd nearly jerked off to just a picture of his fully clothed lower half. If he saw more...if he saw everything-

"Eddie! We've got a Code Red!"

"Jesus! Knock!"

Steve sat up quick at the shouting coming from Eddie's end. It sounded like someone had barged in.

"Eddie?"

"Sorry. Sorry Steve. I gotta handle something. Um, call you back? Please?"

"Eddie, I want to video call you."

"V..video...?"

"Yes. I wanna see you. Please."

"Yes. Yes, a thousand times-hold your horses! Uh, tomorrow? It's Saturday, so you're free, right? Can we make it a date?"

"A date", Steve nodded. "I'll see you then. I'll be thinking of you."

"And I'll be counting the seconds. 1-one thousand, 2-one thousand, 3-one th-ouch! Okay! Damn!"

Eddie hung up and Steve still had the phone to his ear, smiling. He had a video call date. He had a date with Eddie!

Shit what should he wear?

Part 5

Tag Team (CLOSED)

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface @fromapayphone @justmeinadaze @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @resident-gay-bitch @bestwifehaver @dangdirtydemons @ellietheasexylibrarian @perseus-notjackson @pyrohonk @holysteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @mrsjellymunson @geekymagicalpotato @notaqueenakhaleesi