#cucumber's eye view

[micc0ro]

My family member saw this and said "The kitten is jumping up, scared of cucumber"

Error belongs to loverofpiggies

[xmunsonlovex]

Somewhere I Belong

Summary: You leave home for a new opportunity in Hawkins. You're on your own, and your first day, you meet your metal head neighbor. Will this be the start of something that you've always been longing for, or will you keep it at a distance, as you always do.

Pt.2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Shy Fem!Reader

wc: 8600+

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. female reader, reader has low self esteem and a lot of insecurities, slight angst, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc) mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral(f!receiving) reader is inexperienced and a virgin, mutual pinning, idiots in love, eventual smut in later chapter(s), Eddie is little bit of perv, but only for you.

a/n: It's here, guys. A day earlier than I had originally set myself to release it. I had to break it up into multiple parts, which I am currently writing already. I hope to have pt.2 out next week. That'll be the smutty chapter, for those wanting to see these 2 take the next step. Thank you to whoever reads this, I hope you like it. While I've read HUNDREDS of fics from all you lovely loves here on Tumblr, this is my first fic I have ever written. I think I read it over at least 20 times. I'm sure there are still many grammatical errors and things I may have missed. Please let me know if you like it. Please reblog and comment your thoughts 💗

Dividers by: saradika-graphics

You huffed as you placed the last box of your belongings on the carpeted floor. This definitely needs to be replaced, you thought as you looked at it. The move to Hawkins was grueling, between heavy traffic and nasty weather, you were trying to just make it there in one piece. Thankfully you did, and now you stood in the middle of your living room, taking in your new surroundings. It's around 6pm, and it's starting to get dark. You felt lucky to have a nice view of the sunset from your backyard, if you could call it that. It was a small section with enough space for maybe a little garden (you’ve always dreamt of growing your own veggies), and patio chairs. You had found the relatively inexpensive trailer for sale in a community called Forest Hills in Hawkins. Looking at the photos, you knew it needed some repairs. A new paint job too, maybe, but with your new job in the city, you figured you'd make it your own in no time. It was supposed to pay fairly well too, working as an administrative assistant.

You walk over to the kitchen, checking the fridge and stove. All seemed to work fine for now, and with that, you were putting away your kitchen belongings in the cupboards, making note to fix the wobbly door to each cabinet. A box of Mac and Cheese sat on the counter while you boiled some water in a small pot, and then started to cut up some cucumbers and cherry tomatoes, making your favorite salad. You were singing to yourself as you made your food, that you didn't hear the knock on the door. It was soft at first, but quickly became louder after the 4th knock. You grabbed a towel to dry off your wet hands, and walked to your front door, looking through the peephole, but could not make out who was on the other side. You opened the door just a bit, and see a frizzy- haired man, who didn't look much older than you. He sported a denim jacket with lots of heavy metal band patches on it. That definitely caught your eye. 

"Hey Jack-" He turned his head to look at you, then scratched at his cheek. "You're not Jack.." He said. 

"Hi, no. I'm not. I'm guessing he's the one I bought this trailer from though..?" You asked, a small smile on your lips. He was cute, you thought. 

"Makes sense. I haven't seen him in like..2 weeks. I thought maybe he went on vacation then got another car.." he pointed to your shitty car that sat on your driveway, practically falling apart. "You left the trunk open. I um..closed it for you. Don't want any raccoons to get in there.." He chuckled softly, sliding his hands into his pockets. 

You smiled at him, and nodded. Of course you left it open. "Thank you. I was doing a million things at once.." You sighed, and rubbed your forehead. "I just moved in today. I'm Y/N, by the way.." you say, noticing him smile softly when you mentioned your name. "I'm Eddie. I live next door to you.." He nodded towards his trailer and then kicked a rock as he looked down, making sure it went to the side rather than in your home. "Well, nice to meet you, Eddie. I uhm, I'll see you around? I have dinner cooking right now. Don’t want to burn down my new home.”  You said with a chuckle.

 “Yeah. Maybe I can show you around town..whenever you're free." He says quickly. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you. Those big, beautiful brown eyes, they could put you in a trance.  "I'm usually home by 5:30..and I'm off on Sundays." 

“Ok, yeah, I like that idea. I’m off on the weekends, so that works out.” You say.

He felt a giddiness inside him, the thought of making a new friend and even the possibility that the friendship could turn into something more, gave him butterflies. Hope, even. For so long, he was used to being blamed for the events that happened in Hawkins. For so long..he was called a freak and spat at for his taste in music. He wasn't a bad guy, at least he didn't think so. Steve and Robin, and the boys (who were all graduated now) didn't think so. So why was it so hard for him to make other friends? To get a date? He was tired of the meaningless sex that usually transpired at The Hideout, not that it happened often. He wouldn't call himself a ladies man by any means, or someone the girls would seek after. Most times, girls wanted something from it. A little weed. Or maybe the right to brag that they had a quickie with a front man of a rock-band. They never specified which band, though. So when the opportunity arose to show a pretty, new girl around town, he was absolutely going to take the chance to do that. 

"I'll stop by Sunday. I can show you around town, and where to go for all the good food places. Maybe I can take you..to get some groceries, if you need. I don't mind." Eddie offered. 

"Ok, yeah, thank you, Eddie. I uhm...gotta get going though, but I’ll see you Sunday." You try to sound confident, but it comes out a bit shy and timid, instead. He says goodbye, and you watch him jog to his trailer, looking over at you and waving before going inside his home.  You can't help but bite your lower lip, knowing he would be trouble. You weren't exactly looking for a relationship, not romantically anyway. It was embarrassing to think about the fact you had no experience aside from a few pecks on the lips from the 3 dates you had gone on back at home. The dates always ended with a "I had a nice time, but I think we should see other people." You weren't sure if you were maybe too boring for them, or maybe it was your looks? Your self esteem had always been low, even back to when you were in middle school. Kids were relentless and brutal. 

High school was no better. Girls were rude and mocked you for your style, or lack thereof. Boys were cruel too. Laughing when you once tripped over your own feet, nervous around a football player you liked. He looked at you apologetically but it didn't stop the chuckle that left his mouth when your knees and palms slammed on the tile floor. You were 23 now and still remembered it like yesterday. It was the reason you left home. Your mom was sad, she'd definitely miss you but understood the change you needed in your life. She wasn't about to stop you from becoming a better version of yourself. And this was your chance. 

Sunday rolled around way quicker than you anticipated. Between putting away the remainder of your items around the house and doing a deep clean; you were exhausted. But, looking forward to the city tour with your new neighbor. You had woken up earlier than usual to have a shower and a quick breakfast to settle your growling stomach from skipping dinner the night before. After finishing your food, and cleaning up the kitchen, you grabbed your purse and keys, setting them on the small console table by the door as you pace around, growing a little nervous. What if he decided he didn't want to show you around? He probably had better things to do. Your thoughts were promptly silenced as a knock was heard. Giving it a couple of seconds to not seem too eager, you then walked to your door and opened it. Eddie smiled. You could tell he was freshly showered, his hair still a little wet and the smell of soap mixed with some cologne invaded your nostrils. 

"Morning, I have an appointment with Ms. Y/N." He said, with a sheepish smile. You giggled. 

"Good Morning, sir. Yes, I'll be happy to help you with that. Please come in and take a seat. She will be right with you. Could I offer you some water?" You say in your most professional voice. Eddie was in your home now, admiring your decor. It was simple but you. There were some framed photos on the wall; and a light blue couch taking up quite a bit of space in the living room. 

"Huh? Oh yes, thank you ma'am." He said and took a seat on the couch, that intoxicating smile now reaching his eyes. "You're a metal fan." He said, noticing your CD and vinyl collection by the TV stand. "Hmm. Alice Cooper, Black Sabbath...Dio??" He said excitedly, holding the vinyl for Holy Diver. Oh, he's going to have to marry you, now.

"Yeah, I love them. My dad’s a huge fan. Would put the album on when I was younger." You say, smiling at the fond memories, then hand over a glass of cold water to Eddie, who accepts it with a smile. "I fear that you will never get rid of me, now. These are my favorite bands. Not to mention...there is some stuff here that I haven't listened to yet..you have quite the extensive library, sweetheart." He chuckled. The heat that emitted from your cheeks at the nickname was for sure evident, you thought. No way he didn’t see the pink tint on your face. And he did. He proudly gave himself a mental high-five for making you blush. 

"Alright, let's get going. I have loads to show you." Eddie said after drinking the water you so kindly offered him. 

Eddie took you around to all his favorite spots in Hawkins, starting with showing you where your new job was located, then drove back south towards Hawkins again. You learned a lot about him while he drove you around. He was 25, worked as a mechanic at a local auto repair shop, and on some weekends, he'd play with his band, Corroded Coffin, at a bar called The Hideout. You said you'd definitely go see him play and that you were sure he sounded amazing, despite him saying otherwise. That made him blush this time around.  

"So, this is where I went to high school, figured I'd show you since it's on the way to the farmers market you wanted to go to." He tapped on the steering wheel. His hands couldn’t stay still, between either the tapping or him playing air drums to the song that quietly played on his radio.

“Kind of looks like my school...but mine was filled with the most obnoxious and hateful people I'd ever met." You say, your tone a bit softer. "It's the main reason I left home. Everyone I knew...they held this standard of 'I'm better than you.' A lot of people with money. An easy life. Meanwhile, my mom worked her ass off all day and night to keep our mouths fed." You then fell quiet for a bit. "I hated my high school years.." You chuckle faintly and look over at him, who looked back at you while he waited at a red light. "I know all about that.." He nodded. "I wasn't a...popular guy in high school either. I was bullied here and there, but most people left me alone. They didn't want to mess with the one guy who dealt them their weed. Or whatever drug they needed." He said, a little bit of a white lie but you didn't need to know the whole story. With that, he winked at you with a small smirk, and drove to the farmers market. 

"What?! How can you not like cucumbers? They're so tasty! With some salt and ranch. So good." You said, laughing as he made a gagging face while you picked some fresh fruit and placed them in the basket you were holding. "Respectfully darling, they taste so bland. Like crunchy water." 

You scoff and shake your head. "They’re super healthy, though. If you ever come over for lunch or something, I'll make you my special tomato and cucumber salad. It has some dill weed in it. And ranch. You'll love it."

"I take it back. I don't think I can hang out with you anymore. Dill weed? You're killing me here." He joked. The laugh that you let out was now his favorite sound in the world. A genuine laugh at his lame attempt at joking around with you. 

After you paid for the fruits, he gently placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the next stall, which was selling homemade sauces and jams. The older woman on the other side of the table gives Eddie a rather unpleasant look, then notices you. What she can only imagine to be this innocent young woman who is being put under a spell by Eddie the "devil worshipper". This worried her. It took her no time to pull out a pamphlet of their local church, and handed it to you, but you immediately shut that down, and handed it back to her. 

"I appreciate the suggestion, but..I'm not really religious. Thank you. I'd just like to buy-"

"I will not sell my items to devil worshippers like you and Munson, here." Her tone immediately changed to unfriendly and unwelcoming. Eddie felt himself start to get angry, not so much of what she said about him. He was used to that. But because now you'd been given the same treatment as him, and you didn't deserve that. You were sweet. And so beautiful. Welcomed him with a smile rather than spiteful comments and-

“That's OK. I can go spend my money elsewhere. I saw a few stalls that had better prices, actually. And frankly, they also seemed nicer. I can't imagine your jams and sauces taste any good when you have such hate in your heart.” You say. It wasn't meant to be an insult or anything of that nature, you genuinely didn't know why she was being so mean to Eddie. He looked at you, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “Come on, I know the one.” Eddie grabbed your hand, leading you to a different part of the market. Near the parking lot. 

“Hi Sammy. Y/N, is this what you're looking for?” He asked you, this vendor was selling lots of different jams. He'd known about him from The Wheelers. Particularly Nancy. “You bring me a new customer? Eddie. How can I ever repay you?” Sammy smiled fondly at him. One of the very few people in town that treated Eddie with some dignity. 

“Yes. I'm new in town. Wanted to check out the local farmers market. See what you guys had.” You smile shyly. Eddie came to the conclusion that you were quite shy by nature. Not that he was observing every small detail of you on purpose. Or maybe..

“Oh, Eddie. She's so sweet! Polar opposites, I see.” He joked and Eddie glared at him, with no real mean intention behind it. “Teasing. Eddie's a great guy. You've made a wonderful friend.” He hyped him up, trying to be a wingman of sorts. 

“I agree.” You simply say, worried you'd start babbling. Wouldn't be the first time, and instead, you offer Eddie a warm smile as you look at him, a look that lingered for a couple seconds longer than usual. “Alrighty lovebirds. What can I get for yah?” Sammy smirked, looking at both you and Eddie, noticing the flustered expressions. Oh, young love. 

“Um, yes. I would like the grape, blackberry and..peach jam, please.” You say, your face is on fire as you stutter your words. Get a hold of yourself. You hadn’t known Eddie for more than a week, and already you were a mess. Stumbling over your words, blushing every time his fingertips brushed your skin or sent a sweet nickname your way. Eddie is definitely going to be the death of you. Sammy hands you the 3 jars of jam, and puts them in a brown paper bag, adding a smaller jar in there with the others. “This one is my famous strawberry jam. My bestseller. This sample is on me. Let me know if you like it.” He says, smiling sweetly as he hands you the bag. You pull out your wallet, and go to grab some money, but Eddie stops you, grabbing his own wallet quicker.  “I got it..” He mumbled with a smile, and before you could put up a fight, he slapped a 20 dollar bill on Sammy’s palm. “I'll see you, Sam.” Eddie says and he guides you two to walk over to his van. 

“Anything else you want to do?” He asked, opening the door for you and watching as you go in, his eyes admiring the round of your ass. He shakes the impure thoughts from his mind, and watches you buckle yourself in.

“We can head home. Maybe I can make you some lunch? At…my place. If-if you want. I don’t want to impose, or anything. I’m sure you’re a busy guy and all-” He chuckles at your rambling, thinking you couldn’t possibly be any cuter than you already were. Oh, he’s in trouble, as well. 

“Let’s go have some lunch. I guess I’ll try this special cucumber and tomato salad you keep trying to sell me on. With the dill weed and ranch.” He smirked, and gently shut the door to his van, then went around and got in the driver side, buckling in. “Ready, madam?” He said, shaking his wild mane side to side. He turned his head towards you, and gave you a goofy smile as he started the van, and then drove out of the parking lot. You softly laughed at his antics, already enamoured with him. “Hey Eddie, can I ask you something?” You cautiously say, not sure whether this would offend him. “Hm.” He replies, turning left to get into the correct lane towards the trailer park. “Do people really think you’re a satanist? I mean..if..you are, I promise I am not bothered by it. I don’t put down anyone’s beliefs. Unless you’re a shitty person. Which I do not believe you are. You’ve been really nice to me.” You say, once again, rambling. “I am. Why do you think the whole town gives me such scared looks? Poor Jeannie, the lady with the jams, was so upset when I sacrificed her chickens and goats. But..I needed them! I wish she’d just understand.”  He sighed, shaking his head and then glanced at you, finding you wide-eyed. “I’m joking, sweetheart.” He let out a soft laugh, and came to a full stop right before their turn. “This town is very stuck on old beliefs. I like metal music, and the media painting it as the devil’s music a few years ago certainly didn’t help my case. I also played dungeons and dragons in high school, still do actually. And this whole place came after me with pitchforks.” He once again left out some important key facts regarding the history of Hawkins. A conversation for another day, perhaps. “Not everyone is horrible, but I’ve kept my circle small for this very reason.” He added.

Once he arrived back at the trailer park, he parked his van at his place after dropping you off at your front door like a gentleman. He said he’d come over in about 20 minutes, saying he had a few calls he had to make. You didn’t ask any questions, and instead focused on getting started on lunch. Your “special” salad, along with some sandwiches, chips and 2 glasses of cold cokes. You hoped he would enjoy it, now second guessing everything you just did. To the paper plates you placed the food on, to the silly Halloween table cloth you had put on your small dining table. It was only March. You thought of earlier as you sat on your couch waiting for him. When he placed his hand on the small of your back. His hand felt like fire on you, over your clothes and yet, you recall the goosebumps traveling all over your body from such a simple and soft touch. You wondered how his hands would feel on other parts. Your shoulders. Massaging out years of tension and stress. Wondered how his hands would feel if he held your cheek in a romantic manner. Or what they would feel like caressing your neck down to your arms, until they were in an area you wanted to feel him the most. You shut your eyes tightly, and lean your head back against the top of the cushion on the couch, letting out a soft sigh.Your insecurities overwhelming you as you sat there alone with your thoughts. 

“Steve, I..I need your guidance here, man.” Eddie panicked over the phone, pacing his small kitchen, playing with the phone cord out of habit. “What are you talking about? You got this. It’s like a damn movie. A cute girl moves in next door. Voluntarily wants to hang out with you. You’re golden!” He tries his best to comfort Eddie in his state of anxiety. “I don’t know. She’s beautiful, absolutely. Is she wanting to hang out, out of pity, though? Because some dumbass called me a freak in front of her? Is she-” Eddie is quickly cut off by Steve. “Yes. She is inviting you over for lunch, after she accepted your offer to show her around town, and laughed at your jokes, because she feels bad that some lonely, old woman called you a freak.” Steve deadpanned. “You really think so?” Eddie sadly sighed. Steve wanted to strangle him over the phone. “Eddie, no! I know your expertise with women isn’t as evolved as mine…but listen when I tell you, she’s into you. To some degree, anyway! Go over, have lunch with her. Be a little flirty. See where it goes. No harm in trying.” Steve smiled. Easy for the Stud of Hawkins to say. 

You hear a knock at your door, one you were now familiar with, pulling you out of your negative thoughts. Something you really had to work on. You’re a little quicker to answer the door this time, and see Eddie standing there with a few flowers he picked from The Wilson’s front yard on the other side of his trailer. They’ll never notice, he’d argue. “Oh wow, those are so pretty..” You say, your attention immediately drawn to the light blue flowers in his hand. He swallows hard. “Just like you.” He smiles softly, and hands them to you, and you graciously take them. He doesn’t miss the crimson blush that spreads over your cheeks to your ears. “Thank you, Eddie. Come in.” You bashfully say, stepping aside to let him in, and then shut your door. “I made us lunch. Um, I hope it’s to your liking.” He watches you walk into the kitchen, grab a small vase and add water to it, then place the flowers he picked out into it. “I’m sure I will love it. Let’s try that salad, huh?” He said and sat down at the table. 

It was close to 6 in the afternoon now, and Eddie was helping you clean up the dining table, his belly full of the delicious food you made. “Sooo…I could tell you liked the salad. Just admit it. Cucumbers are amazing.” You smirk, looking at him. “Whoa. Let’s not get crazy. You’re lucky that I am fond of you.” He throws the paper plates in the trash, with your approval of course. “But yes, it was really good, Y/N.” He smiles, looking back at you. “I wanted to ask you something now.” Eddie says, walking up to you as you stood by the kitchen entryway. You feel your heartbeat start to hammer in your chest at the close proximity. Noticing the faint freckles that paint his upper cheeks. He is so pretty. 

“My band is playing next weekend. At The Hideout. I would…really like for you to be there. We go on stage at 9..Not too late at night. And! You’ll get to meet my friends. Steven and Robin. Possibly Nancy. She doesn’t care for the loud music, so she doesn’t really go to these things.” He said, looking down at his feet, then up at you, trying to read your expression. “What if they don’t like me?” You say, your voice so small, you wanted to curl into yourself and disappear. His features soften, and he places his hand over yours, which was on the kitchen counter. 

“Believe me, they will love you.” He gives your hand a comforting caress, making you a blushing mess for what felt like the 50th time today.

 “I would love to meet them. And to see you perform.” You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm your anxiety. He could make out that you were a little hesitant in your response.    

 “Do I make you nervous?” He says suddenly, his eyes boring into yours. You freeze at his question, because it was as if his demeanor changed in a blink of an eye; from gentle to dominating. It was all in the way he looked at you with his dark eyes. 

“N-no. No, not really. I mean, I am just a shy person. I get nervous around new people. As you can tell.” You say. He takes your hand in his, holding it,  and flashes you a warm smile.

“Don’t worry. You’ll fit right in with us. I promise. They don’t bite.” He then leans in, close to your ear, whispering. “Though, I do a little.” Eddie says, and patted your hand, smirking. He learned that he really liked to make you squirm, and see you flustered. Sometimes he would get this burst of confidence that he had to take advantage of. It’s how he got himself more gigs at The Hideout. How he got himself a better paying position as a mechanic at J’s Auto Service. That was a milestone, because he was able to save up enough money to get Wayne his own trailer a few blocks away, in a better neighborhood. He deserved it. 

You open the door for Eddie, smiling as you watch him check the doors hinges, making sure the lock worked well, for your safety, of course. “Well, have a great first day at work. If you need anything, give me a call, ok?” He assures you that giving him a call at work would be the highlight of his day. “And you can call me whenever you want too. You know I’m all alone here.” You giggle, biting your lower lip. The playful flirting that occurred throughout the day really put you in good spirits, giving you a tiny bit of confidence. “I’ll definitely remember that. Sleep well, princess.” Eddie smirks, and walks down your porch, but stops to look over your car. “You’ll need new tires soon. You should bring it into the shop during the week. I’ll take a look at it and do an inspection.” He then waves, giving you no time to answer. 

It’s Friday afternoon, and you had 2 hours left of your shift. Counting the minutes until it was 5:00. You didn’t mind the job, it was practically the same as your office position back at home; filing papers, taking calls and sending out emails all day. While this position gave you a bit more responsibility and tasks, the environment was relaxed and the rest of the staff seemed to be chill. One girl, Veronica, would come over and talk to you on her way back in from her smoke breaks. You remembered Eddie smelled the same. He must smoke often enough.

“Are you doing anything fun this weekend? Not much to do in Hawkins.” Veronica popped her chewing gum, playing with a strand of her long hair as she leaned at the reception desk, looking at you.

“I am, actually! My neighbor asked me to go to The Hideout. To see his band play.”

“Eddie Munson? Ugh. The Hideout is so gross. He always takes all the girls there.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling as she nonchalantly picked her nails, admiring the design painted on them. She’d excitedly showed them to you earlier in the day. Your heart nearly sunk to your ass hearing her say that. Were you just another easy girl to him? No way would you give yourself up that easily to Eddie, or any man for that matter, and you didn’t feel that you gave off that kind of energy. You wondered if his whole shy persona was just a ploy to sleep with you, and call it a day. You were sure you liked Eddie. And you thought he genuinely liked you too. He had been so kind to you throughout the week, you reminded yourself. Everytime you came home, roughly 15 minutes after him, he’d walk over and greet you. Ask about your day. Smile and even hug you goodnight after you two would chat for a bit. It was like clockwork, at this point.

“I don’t think this is a date. Just..him being a friendly neighbor.” You shrug, trying to sound indifferent to the news she just broke to you.

“Y/N, I hate to break it to you, but he most likely thinks it's a date. And will probably end up fucking you in that smelly, tiny bathroom in the back of the bar. He does this every time. Will fuck anything in a mini skirt.” She shrugged. “Just use protection, doll.” She winked at you and walked back to her cubicle, sighing loudly as she sat down. You try to blink away the stinging in your eyes, focusing your attention on your keyboard. You absolutely did not need to cry your first week at work. It would be almost as embarrassing as you falling for your next door neighbor in such a short span of time. 

It’s 5pm and you’re driving home, hoping you arrive before Eddie does. Luck must be on your side because you make it by 5:27, and quickly get out of your car, nearly tripping up the steps to your front door as you rush to pull out your key from your large purse. This stupid, big ass bag. You unlock your door, and shut it behind you, locking it back up. Your breathing is heavy as you let your body fall in disappointment. The sun shines through your kitchen window, illuminating the flowers he had picked out for you. They were still lively and vibrant. You made sure to change the water every couple of days to keep as so. You’re sulking as you decide to go and take a hot shower, to clear your mind. Then you hear his van roll in, music blasting from it. 

Eddie looks at your driveway to see your car parked, in a rather chaotic way. You must’ve been excited that it was Friday. Maybe you were excited to see him and wanted to share how crazy of a day you had. He hoped that was the case, since he was ecstatic to see you. On his way to work earlier today, he stopped by the record store next to the J’s Shop, and saw Alice Cooper’s new album, Hey Stoopid. He recalls you mentioning that you’d been looking for the vinyl, wanting to add it to your collection. He gathered the last few bills he had on him, and bought it for you. He figured he’d make some extra cash anyway at The Hideout before the show, selling to the usuals.

He knocks at your door, practically beaming. He’s so excited to gift you this album, knowing it would make you happy. That’s all he wants and cares about. When you don’t answer after his 4th knock, he tries a few more times. “Hm..” He ponders, and leans to the left, trying to peek into your living room window, but the curtain blocks anyone from seeing inside. “Hey, Y/N?” He calls out. He assumes you're in the bathroom when you don't answer, and decides to possibly try again later. He wouldn’t want to disturb your “you time” in there. You hear him jog back to his trailer, his chain wallet giving him away. You felt bad, but then remember what Veronica said to you earlier in the day. That was why you were avoiding him in the first place. Though, it would be impossible to do this everyday. Well, for now, you're just going to try your best to hide from him. That means, you’ll have to stand him up at The Hideout. You turn on the shower after stripping off your work clothes and stood there for what felt like hours, playing every scenario in your mind. 

Eddie is tapping his foot impatiently on his carpeted floor, his much more worn out than yours. It's close to 8:30p and you still haven't come over. And he's contemplating whether to go over to your house or not. Your lights are not on. He guesses you had a really bad day at work, and instead of bugging you, he leaves you to rest. The album can wait for tomorrow morning.

It’s bright and early, you can hear the birds chirping from your bedroom window. You rub the sleep from your eyes and groan, sitting up on your bed, looking over to look at the time. The clock read 09:47a. You better get up and make most of your Saturday as you do not plan on leaving your 4 walls tomorrow. You stretch as you stand up, and walk over to your fridge, and then jump at the loud knock. “Y/N!” a familiar voice calls out. Fuck. Ok, you need to at least confront him of his true intentions. Whether you were just another girl to him, and nothing more. You close up your robe a little as you drag your feet, letting out a shaky breath as you open the door. 

“Oh, thank god!” He breathes in relief. “ I was worried about you.” He said.

“Right..well. I’m ok. Just trying to rest up.” You said. He notices your tone is a bit more cold.

“Oh. I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to check up on you. I knocked yesterday, but didn’t see you. Did you have a bad day at work?” He said, frowning now. 

“You can say that-”

“Then I have something that will cheer you up! Close your eyes.” He grinned, practically jumping in excitement. You raise your brow, and hesitantly shut your eyes, then feel his warm hands grab yours, pulling them out in front of you. You feel a heavy-ish item now land on your hands and you immediately open your eyes. “Oh shit..” You hold the album, looking at it. It was a special edition one.

“Eddie..how’d you find this?” You say quietly, a smile growing on your face.

“Saw it at the record store. Had to get it for you.” He couldn’t be any prouder. He got you out of whatever slump you were feeling.

“Oh Eddie..I know this had to be expensive. Let me pay you back.” 

He shook those curls you were so crazy about. “Nope. I only request your presence tonight, sweetheart. Steve and Robin are dying to meet you.” He says, crossing his arms. Your gaze travels down to them, admiring the tattoos and oh. He’s caught you staring, that smirk on his face confirms that. “I-I will be there.” You nod, going against everything you said to yourself the night before. “Great! I have some errands to run, but I will see you tonight, darling.” He bows like you are his Queen, and you might as well be at this point. You giggle, and watch him go to this van, wave at you and drive off. Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all.

You’re standing in line at The Hideout, waiting to be let in. You assumed that you had to wait like everyone else. There weren't that many people, about 50 all together but judging by the size of the bar, it would be a full house. You dress in a low-cut top, purposely choosing one that showed a decent amount of cleavage. A cardigan rests over your arm, and you opted for black leggings, the ones that made your ass look the best. If Eddie really did intend for this to be a date, you might as well look the best you could, with what you currently had in your closet. You hear your name being called out, and you see Eddie jog over to you. He’s wearing a sleeveless DIO shirt, and leather pants, his combat boots all untied. He looks so good. You’re practically drooling.

“What are you doing here?” He incredulously asks.

“I..you invited me.” You play with your fingers, nails digging into your skin. 

“Babe, I meant in line.” He reaches out, grabbing your hand and pulls you out of the line, where all eyes then fall on you and him. You noticed a few girls eye Eddie, too. Almost like a prey. “You get backstage access, doll.” He whispers as he leanes into you, and smirks. “You’re VIP.” He holds your hand, and takes you to the back of the bar, opening the door that lead you inside. “After you.” He says, eyes falling to your ass. It looked so plump in those pants, so biteable.  

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He says, admiring the subtle make up you had on. It wasn’t much, just some mascara and eyeliner. A little foundation to hide any blemishes and imperfections. “I like this top.” He runs his fingers over the fabric near your collarbone. Your cheeks heat up, as you send him a smile, looking down all shyly. 

“Eddie!” A man calls out, and you look to your left. You assume that is Steve, and a girl walking alongside with him. Robin? 

“Hey, man. Glad you could make it. Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N…this is Steve and Robin. And as I assumed, Nancy did not make it today.”

“Or ever. You know this isn’t her scene. She’s out with Jonathan, anyway.” Steve shrugged and turned his attention towards you. “Nice to meet you. Eddie has talked non stop about you.” He smirks over at Eddie who is internally cussing him out. “Let’s go get some good seats.” Robin smiles at you, and grabs your arm, locking it with hers as she pulls you to the stage floor. 

“Ughhh Steve, why’d you say that? Now she’s going to think I’m obsessed.” Eddie rubs his face, giving him a look.

“Are you not?” Steve smirks, and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. Eddie shook his head and bit his nails, nervously. “I like her, alot.” He admitted to Steve, eyes following you around as Robin decided which area was the best to stand at. He liked how nervous you were around him. You were the sweetest girl he’d ever known. On the opposite end, he also felt like a creep though. All the perverse thoughts he had about you. They’d come to him when he was in bed late at night, a rhythmic movement of his hand over his aching cock as he'd imagine his tongue deep in your wet, throbbing pussy, satisfying his hunger. 

“I gotta get onstage, and set up.” He says to Steve, wanting to avoid any more of Steve’s banter. He nods, then meets up with you and Robin on the stage floor. Your gaze follows Eddie onstage, where he and the rest of the band finish setting up. He winks at you, and tunes his guitar. Most of all the equipment is there, just had to be connected and set up in the proper place.

“You excited to see the show? They’re actually really good! It’s a shame they haven’t been signed by a record label yet.” Robin says. You are caged in, front row, between both Robin and Steve. “Yeah, I’m excited. I just..don’t want to get my hopes up. Feelings hurt and all.” You say softly, seeing all the people from outside being let in.

“What do you mean? Their songs are not really offensive.” Robin says.

“Well, unless you’re someone with sensitive hearing. They’re loud.” Steve snorts.

“No, I mean. I don’t want Eddie to see me as..like the other girls that he brings here?” You say, a little unsure if you are going to get your point across. Their his friends, obviously they’re going to take his side. 

Steve snorts again. “What girls?” 

“All..the girls..?” You say, feeling a bit foolish at that moment. “This chick I work with knows Eddie. Says he brings all his dates here. And uhm, has his way with them. I'm not-it's not that I'm not attracted to him. He's super handsome, but I don't want it to be that type of date. I like him and don’t want it to be a one night stand type of date..” You nervously chew on the inside of your cheek. 

Steve and Robin both start to laugh, a good belly laugh, which makes Eddie look at you three. What are they telling you about him?

“Y/N. He's NOT like that. At all. I don't know who that chick is, but Eddie is lucky if he's able to get a girl to look his way anymore.” Robin said. 

“I mean, he's had girlfriends and dates, sure. But to say he brings all the girls here like he's some ladies man, is comical.” Steve said.  “But don't tell him we said that.” He smirks. “Eddie is a great guy, Y/N. And I'm not just saying that because he's my best friend.” Steve looked up at him. “Shows starting.” He says to you, nudging your shoulder with his as the lights dim, and a loud guitar note plays. The stage area is packed with all the people from outside, and they cheer.  The band seems to have a large following, people singing along to the songs. A lot of older, trucker looking guys and scattered were lots of girls too, older and younger, like yourself. In the middle of the setlist, you see Eddie grab the mic, placing his foot on the amp as he addresses the crowd, thanking them for coming out and supporting the band. He had a little surprise for you, and hoped you listened to Alice Cooper’s previous album, Trash, because he was going to cover one of the songs on there. He figured he’d take the risk and sing Spark in the Dark.  The lyrics were quite suggestive, and maybe tonight, he’d be brave enough to make a first move. 

You immediately recognized the guitar riff to the song, a big smile forming on your face, as you were by now more relaxed and enjoying the show, just like Robin and Steve suggested.

“Ah, welcome to the party.

It’s only me and you

Tell the world to go away, babe

And I’ll tell you what to do

Come over here and kiss me

I wanna pull your hair

Turn out the lights and hold me

I wanna touch you everywhere”

You sing along, all while your face is burning from the blush that spread over your cheeks, and thankful the stage lights are not pointed directly at you. You were certain you’d combust. You also notice a familiar sensation, one that was directly between your thighs. One that needed to be taken care of. Preferably by the front man looking down at you.

“We don’t need nobody, baby

We don’t need champagne

I’ll take you to the deepest

Darkest, hottest lover’s lane

For a little spark in the dark

Just a little spark in the dark.”

You’re staring at each other as he sings the song. You’re singing along, and he’s so good up there. Your favorite rockstar. You notice his hips move a little with every enunciation during the chorus. He grabs the mic stand, placing the mic on it as the guitar rests over his hips, hiding the semi he’s rocking right now thanks to the song’s lyrics and the perfect view he has of your cleavage. 

“I’ll come ‘round midnight

We’ll be crawling on the floor

Burnin’ with a fever

And yellin’ out for more

But don’t you write in your diary, baby

Don’t blab it on the phone

‘Cause if your dad and mom find out, 

They’ll skin me to the bone.

We don’t need instructions, baby

Don’t you be afraid

It takes a little friction, uh-uh

That’s how our love is made 

For a little spark in the dark.”

You want to melt into a puddle once the song is finished, noticing the sweat that glistens his skin, still sporting that sleeveless tank top. He sings a few more covers, and once the show is over, he bows to everyone, then directly tosses you a guitar pick. You’re giddy, as you’re bouncing on your tippy toes, holding it between your fingers.

“Look at the fangirl, now.” Robin smirks, clapping as the band gets off stage. “We get backstage privileges, being long time friends of the band and all.” She laughs, walking to the back of the bar, noticing the crowd had spread out between leaving for the night, and others to sit at the bar. You follow Robin and Steve, until you reach a room that almost looked like a utility room with all the amps.”Hey!” Eddie says, wiping the sweat off with a small towel. He looks directly at you, as if Robin and Steve aren’t even in the room. “That was amazing! And…the cover was really good, too.” You blush and try not to be too obvious as your eyes scan his body. His shirt is all damp from his sweat, shirt stuck to his body. You could make out his toned stomach. 

“I’d give you a thank you hug, but I smell. And I’m all sweaty.” He chuckles, noticing you shifting a little, your thighs pressing together. He gives you a little knowing smirk, and pulls out a cigarette, but Robin is quick to snatch it.

“No smoking. Especially not around your date.” Robin speaks out.

“You’re right. Bad habit, and manners. Sorry. sweetheart.” He cheekily smiles and puts away the pack of cigarettes.

“We gotta get going, but we’ll see you later, Eds. Come on Steve. Remember…we had that thing we had to do..” Robin says, pulling him on his arm. “OH right! That thing. Yes. Alright, you two have a good and eventful night. Nice meeting you, Y/N! We look forward to seeing you again real soon!!” Steve says as both him and Robin go running out. You let out a soft laugh then look over at Eddie, who is looking at you, not once did his sight move away from you.

“Can we..talk?” You say to him. 

Oh fuck, did he do something wrong? Was it the way he was looking at you? Shit. 

“Of course. We can step outside. It’s hot as fuck in here.” He says and you both walk out into the back of the bar, the loud slam of the door shutting making you jump. Eddie is nervous now. He’s sure you’re about to break the news to him that you don’t want anything to do with him. Maybe you found out of his late night activities, but that wouldn’t make any sense. He was sure you partake in those kinds of solo activities. Maybe you believed he was truly a devil worshipper. How can he convince you otherwise?

“I uhm, almost didn’t come tonight.” You start. 

This makes his chest feel heavy. He’d done something, surely. 

“How come?” His voice is small.

“I was stupid. I believed something someone at my job said about you.” Your stare is focused on the littered and dirty floor, not wanting to meet his eyes. You felt ashamed.

“What’d they say about me?” 

“I-I don’t-”

“What’d they say about me, Y/N? I assure you..I’ve heard it all. I’m used to it at this point in my life.” He says, his tone was a bit more irate and cold than what you were used to him being with you. Your eyes took no time in watering, and now Eddie was ready to throw himself off a cliff for making you feel this way.    He really fucked this up already, as he always does. Good job, Munson.

“She said that…you basically slept around. That you take them here on dates, and..and take them to that nasty bathroom for a quick fuck. Eddie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have believed something like that. I just, I got scared to have my feelings and emotions played with. I didn’t want to be just another girl added to your roster.” You try to keep your composure as you talk to him, your eyes are for sure still watery, but by some miracle, you didn’t stutter. “If I’m being honest, I don’t have much experience with this. Like, yeah. I’ve done a few dates and all, but I've never had a boyfriend or had anyone touch me, or-”

“Sweetheart, it's ok.” Eddie takes a step forward and grabs both your shaky hands, holding them in his, practically engulfing them. “Look at me.” His voice is low, and he places a finger under your chin, tipping your head up. “I promise you, I am not that type of person. People will say a million things about me, and I can guarantee that most of them are just rumors. I certainly do not sleep around. I can't remember the last time I had a legitimate date with someone, let alone fuck someone.” He risked making himself look a loser just to make you feel better. His hand goes up to your cheek, and caresses it, letting out a chuckle. “Baby, there's no one I desire more than you…and I want to kiss you so bad.” He whispers, taking another step forward, his scent invading you. “Give me a chance to prove to you..I'm not like whatever these stupid fucks said about me.” His lips are impossibly close to yours, making your breath hitch at the close proximity. “Kiss me.” His voice is raspy. You embrace each other, your lips pressing together as the kiss deepens slowly. It was the first time you've experienced a true, deep kiss. You were sure he could tell. You opened your mouth, letting his hot tongue in to glide along yours and the quiet whine you let out makes him want to take you right there and then. You were inexperienced, yes, but quickly learned to breathe through your nose and move your mouth with his. Eddie's hand rested on your hips, and the other was around the nape of your neck, pulling you against him even closer, wanting to hear those  whines again. 

“Alright, get a room, you two.” Gareth groaned, hauling the large amp into the van that was a few feet away from you both. You blush heavily as you both simultaneously pull away from each other. “We will continue this at your place? I got to finish helping the guys..” Eddie breathed heavy, a similar rosy shade painted over his cheeks. 

“Yes, I'll leave my door unlocked. You can just come in..” 

“Hm, sweetheart. I don't think that's a good idea. What if the big, bad wolf gets in? And wants to eat yah?” Eddie smirks. 

“I certainly count on it.”

[jellyfishsthings]

Spa Days

navigation , dc navigation

WARNINGS: none really, just funny banter

requests are open

dividers by @cafekitsune

inspired from this fic by @yeoniverseee

Jason Todd, the brooding, gun-toting vigilante known as the Red Hood, isn't exactly the first person you'd picture slathered in a cucumber face mask. Yet, here we are, face-deep in a concoction of avocado and honey, with a fluffy pink headband perched precariously on his dark hair. This is your spa day, a rare moment of domestic bliss carved out from the chaos of Gotham, and honestly, it's been surprisingly…relaxing.

"Seriously? This is what you're doing?" Jason grumbled, his voice echoing in the vast cavern. He surveyed the scene with narrowed eyes: a blanket spread on the floor, laden with an arsenal of brightly colored nail polishes, facemasks that looked suspiciously like something Frankenstein's monster would wear, fluffy headbands, and a bowl of steaming water infused with essential oils that smelled suspiciously like lavender.

Jason scoffed. "De-stressing involves firing rounds at targets, not... whatever this is."

"Humor me," You pleaded, employing my best puppy-dog eyes. Jason, despite his gruff exterior, had a soft spot for those. After a moment of internal debate that was visible in the tic in his jaw, he sighed. "Fine. But if anyone sees this, you're dead."

Your relationship, a clandestine affair built on stolen moments and whispered promises, is often a tightrope walk between my civilian life and his dangerous world. Dates usually involve rooftop picnics offering a breathtaking view of the city, or quiet nights in his surprisingly cozy (and heavily fortified) apartment. But today, you decided we needed something lighter, something…normal. You'd envisioned a day dedicated to pampering, a chance to unwind and reconnect amidst the constant pressure of his double life.

First came the headbands. Wrestling one onto Jason’s stubborn, perpetually tousled hair was a feat in itself, but eventually, you managed to secure the fuzzy pink band. He looked, to put it kindly, ridiculous. You snorted with laughter, earning a glare that could curdle milk.

Next, the nail polish. You convinced him to let me paint just one finger, arguing that it was "research" to see which color best suited his… unique personality. He chose a matte black, which, honestly, wasn’t surprising. You opted for a vibrant turquoise, and you painstakingly applied layer after layer, trying to avoid getting it all over your fingers. Jason quickly realized that painting nails was far more difficult than disarming a bomb. The frustration was palpable.

"This is a waste of time," he muttered, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on his single, gothic-chic fingernail.

"Relax," You chirped, gently buffing away a smudge on his pinky. "Enjoy the process. Embrace the… manicure."

Then came the facemasks. This was where things truly devolved into chaos. You had chosen a particularly gooey, green clay mask, promising it would "draw out impurities" and leave your skin "glowing." The application was messy, to say the least. Jason smeared the mask with the grace of a toddler finger-painting, getting it in his hair, on his clothes, and even managing to flick some onto the Batmobile.

You both looked like swamp monsters, but you couldn’t help but laugh. Jason, however, was not amused.

"This is the dumbest thing I've ever done," he declared, his voice muffled by the drying clay. "You know, I've faced down Scarecrow hopped up on Fear Toxin, and this is still the most terrifying thing I've done all week."

You giggled, gently smoothing the mask around his jawline. "Oh, relax, Jay. It's supposed to be soothing. Besides, you look…kinda cute."

He grumbled something unintelligible, but you saw the corners of his lips twitch. Progress. The whole process started with a bit of reluctant participation. You'd lured him in with the promise of quality time and the persuasive argument that a little self-care was essential, even for hardened vigilantes. I’d prepped everything beforehand. Soft, fluffy towels, essential oils diffusing lavender and chamomile, and a meticulously curated selection of face masks, nail polishes, and bath bombs.

The atmosphere was surprisingly comfortable. We talked, not about the gritty realities of Gotham’s underbelly, but about mundane things: favorite movies, childhood memories, even his surprisingly discerning taste in music. For a few precious hours, you were just two people enjoying each other’s company, a welcome respite from the ever-present threat looming over our lives.

That's when disaster struck.

It started with a knock. A hesitant, almost sheepish knock that I immediately recognized.

"That'll be Tim and Damian," Jason sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What do they want?"

You shrugged. "Probably just checking in. Don't worry, I'll handle it."

You opened the door to find Tim Drake, the ever-logical Red Robin, and Damian Wayne, the fiercely competitive Robin, standing awkwardly on the doorstep. The scene that greeted them was, you imagine, rather unexpected. Two figures covered in green goo, one sporting a pink headband and a single black fingernail, surrounded by an array of brightly colored beauty products.

Tim's jaw dropped. Damian, on the other hand, simply raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"What," Damian said, his voice dripping with disdain, "is the meaning of this… unspeakable horror?"

Jason, seizing the opportunity, immediately threw me under the bus. "It's all her fault!" he exclaimed, gesturing wildly in my direction with his goo-covered hands. "She forced me into this ridiculous charade!"

"Uh…we were just…wondering if everything was alright?" Tim stammered, his voice betraying his surprise. "We saw the light on and…well…"

Before you could formulate a coherent explanation, Jason emerged from the living room, face mask still firmly in place. The sight of the Red Hood, notorious for his lethal methods, looking like a pampered spa enthusiast was clearly too much for them to process.

Tim’s jaw dropped. Damian, however, simply raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Todd," Damian said, his voice laced with thinly veiled mockery. "What exactly is going on here?"

Jason, never one to back down from a challenge, crossed his arms, a defiant glint in his eyes. "It's a spa day. What's it to you?"

"A spa day?" Tim repeated, his voice cracking slightly. "You? Really?"

"Yeah, really," Jason retorted. "Got a problem with that, Replacement?"

The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You could see this quickly escalating into a full-blown argument, complete with hurled insults and possibly even a few Batarangs. You decided to intervene.

"Guys, chill out," You said, stepping between them. "It's just a little relaxation. Why don't you come in? We've got plenty of face masks to go around."

Tim, recovering from his initial shock, started to chuckle. "Are those… facemasks?" he asked, gesturing to your green faces.

"Indeed," Damian replied, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "It appears our elder brother has succumbed to the allure of… self-care."

"Don't even start," Jason growled, but a faint smile played on his lips.

You expected resistance, perhaps even outright refusal. But to your surprise, Tim and Damian exchanged a hesitant glance. The allure of pampered relaxation, it seemed, was stronger than sibling rivalry.

And then, the unthinkable happened.

"Actually," Tim said, his voice thoughtful, "I could use a facial. All-nighters take a toll on your skin."

Damian, ever the competitive one, wasn't about to be outdone. "If Drake is participating in this… frivolous activity, then I shall as well. One must maintain a flawless complexion, even while fighting crime."

Suddenly, Operation Spa Day expanded.

Convincing Tim and Damian to participate was surprisingly easy. Getting them to relax, however, was another story. Damian insisted on analyzing the ingredients of the facemask for potential toxins, while Tim meticulously researched the benefits of each nail polish color. Jason, surprisingly, seemed to be enjoying himself, albeit in a begrudging sort of way.

You ended up painting Damian's nails a subtle, sophisticated grey, while Tim opted for a bright, almost neon green. Jason, emboldened by the presence of his brothers, demanded you paint his other nails black as well.

Of course, your newfound zen was short-lived. As you were rinsing off your facemasks, a deep voice boomed from the shadows.

"What," Batman said, his voice laced with disbelief, "is going on here?"

The sight that greeted him was even more absurd than what Tim and Damian had stumbled upon. Four figures, faces still slightly green, sporting various shades of nail polish, surrounded by a chaotic mess of beauty products.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just stared at you, his cowl casting his face in shadow. Then, a very faint, almost imperceptible twitch appeared at the corner of his lips.

“Did you… paint your nails?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Jason, never one to miss an opportunity, grinned. “Yeah, Batsy. You’re next.”

Batman simply shook his head, a mixture of exasperation and amusement in his eyes. He surveyed the scene one last time, then turned and walked away, muttering something about needing a stronger cup of coffee.

You all exchanged glances, then burst out laughing. Even Damian, surprisingly, cracked a small smile.

[sevarchive]

♡ bllk drabbles ──

જ⁀➴ blue lock characters! with a filthy rich s/o

a/n: btw reader is canonically richer than reo in this one. this plot was suggested from this request!

starring: kiyora jin, chigiri hyoma, sae itoshi, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, kurona ranze, and yukimiya kenyu

KIYORA JIN doesn't know how to process it.

you’re calm when you say, “i bought you a recovery pod. same model the pros use.”

he blinks at the chrome sci-fi cocoon in your guest room.

“i—you bought it?”

you nod. “well, imported. i figured your muscles deserved the best.”

he gently touches the side. “this costs more than my apartment.”

you hum, casual. “then i’ll get you a new apartment too. one with a mountain view or whatever you like.”

kiyora opens his mouth. closes it. opens it again. “you’re joking.”

“i’m stupidly rich and madly in love. let me cope through capitalism.”

he huffs a disbelieving laugh. “you're unreal.”

“you like it?”

he exhales slowly. “i do. but… don’t forget i liked you when you were just annoying in sweatpants.”

you grin. “so you admit i was annoying.”

“you still are.”

you tackle him onto the couch. the pod behind you pings to life, announcing in a robotic voice: "welcome back, king kiyora."

he hides his face in your shoulder.

“…we are not keeping that feature.”

CHIGIRI HYOMA has always expected to be the one giving the princess treatment. not… receiving it.

so when he steps into the private spa you rented and gets handed a silk robe, rose petal foot soak, and a laminated schedule titled “hyoma’s healing journey”, he freezes.

“…i thought we were getting foot rubs.”

you sip from your champagne flute. “we are. and a five-step brightening facial, two kinds of lymphatic drainage, and one chakra balancing.”

“…why are there chakra crystals on the hot tub cover?”

“for alignment.”

he squints. “what’s that smell?”

“imported lavender steam.”

a staff member bows and says, "your third eye will thank you, sir."

chigiri turns to you with wild eyes. “i’m not supposed to be the pampered one. i do the pampering.”

you guide him toward the chaise. “then let me flip the script.”

he protests all the way into the silk robe. complains while sipping cucumber water. sulks as they buff his feet.

an hour later:

“...okay, maybe i’m into this,” he admits, eyes half-lidded as someone massages his scalp.

you grin. “told you.”

“…but if you put me in a tiara, i will revolt.”

you don’t answer.

“Y/N.”

“smile for the tiara.”

ITOSHI SAE has standards. high ones. and when you hand him a velvet box before training, he looks at it like it personally insulted him.

“what is this?”

“a gift,” you say. “custom cleats. carbon fiber. ai-enhanced pressure sensors. biometric grip. they scan your stride and adapt in real-time.”

he opens the box. blinks once. “...they better not talk.”

“they also warm up before matches,” you offer.

sae squints. “great. i always wanted shoes with a preheat setting. what’s next? voice command?”

“they do respond to commands.”

he clicks his tongue. “if they start calling me ‘daddy,’ i’m suing.”

you grin. “would you prefer ‘king’?”

“i’d prefer ‘quiet.’” he picks one up and turns it over like it owes him money. “they’re not hideous.”

“that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“i don't mind getting spoiled. but if you get me a smart headband next, i’m ending the relationship.”

you smirk. “too late. it arrives thursday.”

he exhales sharply. “you are the single most annoying rich person i’ve ever loved.” then, after a pause, he adds “but you’re also the only person who ever bothers to learn what i actually need.”

he nudges your side with his foot, barely looking up. “...thanks, i guess.”

which, from sae, is the emotional equivalent of slow dancing in the rain.

MIKAGE REO is plotting your downfall.

“you outbid me,” he accuses, mid-brunch.

“for charity,” you reply.

“it was a SILENT AUCTION!”

you tilt your head. “i do enjoy crushing your spirit under the weight of my wallet.”

reo stares. “so are we flirting or fighting?”

“yes.”

before he can retaliate, the auctioneer clears his throat. “next item: one (1) lazy prodigy, comes with gaming addiction and severe nap dependency. starting bid: 1,000 yen.”

you and reo both raise your hands.

nagi blinks from the refreshment table. “huh?”

“i raise to ONE million,” reo says casually.

“two and a lifetime snack subscription,” you counter.

“three and i throw in a temperature-controlled gaming chair,” reo shoots back.

nagi pauses. “…are you guys buying me?”

“four million and i promise to never wake you before noon,” you say sweetly.

“five and i rename my yacht after him,” reo snarls.

nagi tilts his head. “what if i don’t want to be sold?”

“YOU DON'T GET A SAY,” you and reo reply in unison.

the auctioneer slams the gavel. “sold. to the terrifyingly coordinated couple.”

reo grumbles. “this is the third time we’ve accidentally bought nagi.”

you shrug. “he should stop being so marketable.”

NAGI SEISHIRO blinks when you hand him a velvet box.

“…is it food?”

“no.”

he opens it anyway. inside: a diamond-studded, ai-enhanced controller. ergonomic. heat-reactive. probably smarter than both of you combined.

he tilts his head. “looks expensive.”

“it was.”

“cool. can it play the game for me?”

you sigh. “it can analyze finger fatigue and auto-adjust input lag.”

he nods, impressed. “that’s kinda cracked.”

ten minutes later, he’s horizontal on the couch, eyes glued to the screen. the controller glows. the ai says, ‘excellent backshot, seishiro.’ he munches a chip. doesn’t blink.

“do you even remember my birthday?” you ask.

“yeah. it’s… uhh…” he trails off. “the day my xp bar maxed out.”

“…what?”

“don’t worry. i set a reminder. in my game.”

you raise a brow.

“npcs drop cake and buffs that day.”

you stare.

he leans his head lazily against your shoulder. “i also made your character look cool. and hot.”

you sigh. “you’d be nothing without me.”

“nah,” he mumbles. “i’d still be good. just, like… not moisturized. or fed.”

KURONA RANZE is confused. deeply, deeply confused.

he was promised brunch. maybe a nice view. instead, he’s sitting in an underwater restaurant: with panoramic glass walls, coral towers, and a school of fish watching him eat.

“you brought me to an aquarium,” he says slowly.

you grin. “correction. i brought you inside the aquarium.”

a fish with big, buggy eyes floats past. kurona narrows his own.

“…he’s staring at me. staring.”

you nod. “we can get that one for brunch if you want.”

he chokes. “he’s got a family! a fish family!”

you sip your drink like it’s none of your business. “so? you ate his cousin last week.”

“that was sashimi! it didn’t have personality!”

you smirk. “so… submarine dinner next week? titanic ruins?”

kurona lowers his fork slowly. “i’m not dying in a sunken boat just so you can take aesthetic photos.’”

you grin. “there’s bioluminescent shrimp.”

he stares. “i can watch glowing shrimp from my couch. in 4k. with snacks. and zero risk of becoming fish food. food.”

“c’mon,” you tease. “you’d look great in a wetsuit.”

“i’d look better on land. with air. and dignity.”

but when the fish-shaped cake arrives and the tank lights spell out “kurona,” he beams.

“…cool. it’s cool.”

YUKIMIYA KENYU looks absolutely done.

“you didn’t.”

“i did,” you grin. “i bought billboard space in every major city.”

he turns—and yep. there’s his face. on a 50-foot poster. posing. smizing. looking like he just invented skincare.

with the caption: yukimiya kenyu: the vision.

“i didn’t even approve that photo,” he mutters.

he scrolls through his socials. every feed: him. magazine covers, bus ads, milk cartons (??).

“they put me on the side of a yogurt truck,” he says, horrified.

“gut health is important,” you offer.

he clutches his forehead. “i’m being haunted by my own jawline.”

later, he’s dragged to a mall opening. the backdrop? himself. larger-than-life. again.

“…my eyebrows are fighting for dominance,” he mutters.

you lean closer. “next week: holograms. full body projection. interactive. you can high-five yourself.”

he stares. “i already talk to myself in the mirror, thanks.”

but when you catch him taking a selfie with his own billboard later, he mutters, “…lighting was good. it’s for reference.”

you raise an eyebrow.

“i am the vision,” he says flatly.

you cackle. “there he is.”

જ⁀➴ © sevarchive ✦ masterlist ; like/reblogs are appreciated ꣑ৎ

[gghostwriter]

something fluffy i thought of is how spencer never had friends his age so he never got to have a real sleepover, so reader decides to change that and does all the cliché sleepover stuff with him (building a fort, pillow fights, facemasks,...)

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff w.c: 1.5k A/N: I’ve been in a writing funk lately so really took a while, so sorry about that! I wrote this with early season!Spencer in mind, think s1-s2. Not proofread cause i will second guess myself. Special thanks to @thegloryofliterature for helping me power through! Masterlist

Cucumber Slices. // Spencer Reid

Two pretty glasses on the kitchen counter, ready for use? Check.

Non-alcoholic wine chilling in the fridge? Check. 

No clutter in sight? Check.

Your eyes flitted all over the apartment, making sure everything was where it was supposed to be—no stray pair of shoes, overflowing from your cabinet, strewn all over the wooden floor. It was a problem you’d need to tackle soon or later, your lack of space in this otherwise tiny apartment and your shopping addiction, but that wasn’t top priority at this very moment.

No, the cause of concern was making sure all went well tonight with your new beau, Spencer Reid.

It was all thanks to a cup of spilled coffee down at your favorite shop that caused this new development. You remembered how wide-eyed, afraid, and guilty the FBI agent looked as he took note of your state of distress, pale pink blouse turning sheer from liquid. Your lips must have wobbled then, thinking about how your new top was ultimately ruined, that caused him to clumsily remove his plaid coat, smelling of cedar wood and worn pages, and wrapping it all over your slight frame.

With his tenor voice, he repeatedly apologized and proposed to have your top dry cleaned, hoping to salvage it, all the while offering a spare button down from his leather worn satchel. Honestly, you didn’t know why you accepted it then and why you shyly gave away your contact information. It was like his amber doe eyes, teary from stress, hypnotized you to saying yes. 

Catching sight of your reflection, you assessed the mirage in front of you. Hair casually blown dry, not too curled, and makeup kept to a minimum, a hint of gloss, that’s it. 

You didn’t want to come off too dolled up for his very first sleepover in history, a fact he humbly disclosed during your fourth date and a fact you wanted to rectify immediately, and for his first sleepover as your new official (the thought made you want to squeal) boyfriend.

Looks? Check.

The corners of your cherry flavored lips lifted into a smile just as a hesitant knock echoed through your tastefully designed apartment.

Boyfriend? Check.

“Coming!”

As you reached for the locked door knob, the excitement palpable on your face, a small inconspicuous package caught the corner of your eye.

It was a box of protection you bought, just in case.

You sucked in a breath, afraid of what could have happened if you just left it there. Quickly running to your bedroom and pulling the bedside drawer so harshly the contents rattled, you shoved the box away, face burning from the thought of being caught.

To be fair, it really wasn’t in your list to buy during the quick run to the grocery. It had caught your eye while checking out and added it to the cart without really much further thought. You definitely wasn’t expecting anything to happen tonight, knowing how fresh the relationship is and how shy Spencer is to any type of physical affection. He did once rattle off a fact how hands touching transfer more bacteria than kissing and at that moment, all you could think of was leaning in and meeting his lips with yours. 

There was another knock. 

“Just a moment, Spence!” You called out, voice cracking at the end as your feet slid against the waxed floor.

You paused, trying to catch your breath before swing the door wide open to the view of Spencer shyly smiling at you, weighed down by the amount of items on his hands.

“Uh—hi, hey,” he breathed out. “I-uh, I brought over some stuff we might need for the sleepover.” 

You giggled. “Did you bring your entire apartment with you, by any chance?”

“What? No, no of course not! I just—” he stepped inside your apartment, lowering the bags on the kitchen counter. “—I didn’t know what a sleepover would need so I did research and it—” gesturing towards the items. “—just snowballed from there.” 

You stretched on your tip toes, softly giving his cheek a kiss. “That’s sweet of you, Spence. Can you tell me more about what you found?” 

His face brightened, very much used to people not wanting to hear him talk on or off tangents. “Well, I brought a couple of games, one I borrowed from Penelope—” he pulled a chess board, a deck of cards, and Monopoly. “—I also got us assorted slice fruits to share, I read that people in sleepovers tend to eat take out, pizza or Chinese, which I brought too, and I wanted us to have a healthy dessert on hand and although chocolate seems to be the usual meal treat, it is primarily made of concentrated sugar with little to no added nutrients. Fruits, on the other hand—”

He paused, eyes slowly tracking the contours on your face. “—do you want me to stop? Usually the team would have cut me off by now and I don’t want to bore you.”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no! Not at all, Spencer! I love to hear your voice and i think its so cute that you researched.”

Rocking on his heels, he pressed his lips into a tight smile as his ears reddened in color. 

“Well,” you sidestepped to stand beside him, back facing the counter. “Should we get started?”

Spencer nodded, eyes earnestly looking at you for guidance.

“In my mind, a sleepover isn’t complete without this,” you gestured towards the ingredients laid out earlier.

A chopping board and it’s matching knife, one piece of unsliced cucumber, a tub of unopened Greek yogurt, and a bottle of honey.

“Is this for our snack?”

You giggled, bumping the side of his hip with yours. “You’ve got plenty to learn, my young padawan.”

***

“Are you sure this—” Spencer gestured to the concocted bowl in front of him. “—is sanitary? I don’t think I ran across this step when I was researching.”

Laughing, you pinched slices of cucumber between your manicured fingers and gesturing him to lean slightly back. “Of course it is, Spencer! I did trust the washing and cutting to you, didn’t I?”

“It’s just—I’m not quite sure what benefit we’re supposed to get.”

You leaned in, keeping a critical eye on your handiwork as if you were a painter inspecting the masterpiece. He smelled fresh, having taken a shower before settling on the couch in front of the opened television—he smelled of your body wash with a hint of his own scent you couldn’t describe.

Pulling back, you gestured for him to do the same to you, covering your bare face with the homemade face mask.

“Well, according to Paolo, the cucumbers actually do nothing but it’s nice to just get into the mood, don’t you think?”

The space between his brows threatened to disappear as the tip of his tongue peeked between his lips in concentration. It was absolutely adorable to see him wracking his expansive mind as to who Paolo was. 

“Should I know who that is?” 

You faux gasped. “From Princess Diaries?”

Spencer shook his head, leaning away from his finished work.

“As your girlfriend, I fear it’s my duty to get you up to date with romance movies. Which is why—” reaching for the remote to press play. “—I chose one I’m sure you’d know.” 

Classical music started to play through the speakers matched with a sunrise on an empty vast field and slowly, the title card appeared, Pride & Prejudice.

He chuckled, settling in on your off white sofa, shoulders brushing against each other.

As the movie progressed, Spencer softly whispered commentary under his breath, his voice rumbling from his chest, lulling you to ease. It felt so easy being with him. There was no second guessing the meaning behind his words, the meaning behind his actions. You still couldn’t believe your luck that you found The decent man of your dreams through a cup of spilled coffee, it was worth having your designer silk blouse as the casualty. 

On screen, Mr Darcy had reached to guide Elizabeth Bennet up to the carriage, bare handed. The camera cut then, focusing on his hand flexing from the touch of her hand.

Your heart rate picked up, this scene had always been your favorite. Such an inconspicuous move but quite scandal during their time.

Spencer cleared his throat, adjusting his position beside you, hand mirroring Mr Darcy’s. Slowly, as if he was unsure of your consent, he brushed the back of his palm with yours, intertwining the two pinkies together.

Breath caught in your chest, you wove the rest together. Both palms slightly damp from the nerves, he squeezed three times and in that minute, you knew. 

This relationship was for keeps. 

My inbox is currently closed for requests but comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[mercurial-chuckles]

Savage Saturday Thought!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader Warnings: Just fluffy fluff | Mutual pining | Smitten Captain Rogers | Dad kinda playing cupid | Unbeta'd | Lemme know if I'm missing anything. | WC: 832 A/N: This drabble is more of a case study. With all the weird stuff going on with my blog lately and the lack of interaction, I just wanted to see if my fic-tag posts are getting filtered out. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this blurb--and if you do, please take a moment to interact. It would mean the world to me. Drabble based on a prompt @buck-star (Thank you, Sydney 🩷🫂) shared it with me a while ago "Friends, that's all." "I've seen that boy almost snap his neck because he heard your laugh and wanted to see why you were laughing. But yes, keep telling yourself you're friends." Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! GIF credits to the OP. Thank you. Check out my other works: Masterlist

♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

Indulge Away!

****

"Stop it," you grumbled.

If you could, you'd have fled, but the cabs cost a fucking fortune from the compound, and the shuttle services weren't running for the next four hours anyway.

Your dad shook his head, chuckling. You bet his eyes were glinting, too. But you didn't dare look his way, so you put your entire focus on staring at the lake.

The water was too still. A little breeze would help. Unbeknownst to you, your eyes shifted, catching sight of the man you'd been trying your hardest to avoid.

Holy moly! What a glorious man! Golden boy man, indeed.

He looked divine. That t-shirt he wore looked so good on him. A light shade of olive green. It suited him. Who were you kidding? You bet that man could pull off any color.

"Really? You can't keep ignoring me, young lady!" your dad piped in. And your attention immediately snapped back to the lake.

"I could try," you mumbled.

Your dearest dad was being far too annoying right now.

This was all Tony's fault, really. Tony had stumbled upon you having lunch with your dad near the compound one day while your father was in town. Unfortunately, Tony had been craving a milkshake that day and happened to spot the two of you.

What followed was Tony's overt excitement at seeing you there as if he hadn't seen you in forever. He was so loud it nearly made poor Derek drop the tray he was carrying to the next table. Tony had invited himself to join, and to your dismay, your dad had been utterly delighted. That was the beginning of it. From there, it had all been a downward spiral for your sanity. Tony and your dad had a common taste in music and a penchant for sharing your distressing tales.

Worse still, your dad now had access to the compound. This morning, he'd even called to say he'd pick you up himself since he was heading to the spring party anyway.

Not that you really minded. Not deep, deep down. Truthfully, you were happy your dad wasn't brooding or getting lost in his paintings anymore.

But the real dreadful issue?

Your dear father had become far too intrigued by your interactions with a certain man. Your dad was no fool.

So, when he'd innocently handed you a lemonade earlier, you should have recognized the look on his face. You should have braced yourself. But you'd been none the wiser.

Because.

You were sitting on one of the lounge chairs by the beach, busy enjoying the view. The scenery, the warming lemonade, the hubbub, the still lake, and most importantly, one extremely gorgeous Captain Rogers. The sharp nose, that jaw, those muscles, those thighs, and…

"It's for him, isn't it? Those special art supplies you requested for a "friend's" birthday last year. Those were for the good Captain. Weren't they?" He remarked casually, and you froze.

You'd been fighting your case, nonchalantly, but your dad was grinning at you with that weird smile.

That was three whole minutes ago and you were counting, just trying to keep a cool-as-a-cucumber look, which was, mind you, not an easy task in that scorching heat.

You did consider begging someone to take you home, but that would only mean handing victory to your father.

Maybe you could walk. Yeah, the heat was really getting to you. Wasn't it?

"Friends, Dad. That's all," you insisted, trying your best to steer clear of discussing your one-sided, clearly non-platonic affections for Captain Rogers. You were careful not to tread into that dangerous territory, even in your own thoughts.

"Uh-huh! Friends!" Your dad echoed, nodding.

"I've seen that boy almost snap his neck because he heard your laugh and wanted to see why you were laughing. But yes, keep telling yourself and me that you're friends." He continued, looking far too smug.

Your dad was overthinking Steve's reaction--the too kind-hearted, goddamn gorgeous man's reaction--just like you often did, and chastised yourself for doing that exactly.

You shook your head, a scoff ready to escape your throat, but you held your ground, and turned to face your dad.

"Excuse you, old man. Aren't you supposed to detest my guy friends? Isn't that, like, your thing?" you demanded lamely, feeling a flicker of satisfaction at gaining some upper hand in the conversation.

However, he simply laughed.

"Yeah, I do. But I don't mind this guy." He shrugged, gesturing subtly in Steve's direction before continuing, "I don't need to lecture him on taking care of you. He already does it better than I do. And he loves you." He smiled, completely oblivious to the emotional grenade he'd just tossed.

You gasped, the lemonade slipping from your grasp and spilling all over your sundress.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve's voice came beside you, sending your heart into overdrive. Your breath hitched. Your dad's little speech about Steve Rogers loving you had reached its perfect and utterly humiliating climax. Now, here Steve was, handing you a handkerchief, perched beside you, his brow creased in concern.

To your utter annoyance and Steve's evident confusion, your dad burst out laughing harder.

"I rest my case, cupcake," your dad exclaimed, clearly enjoying himself. "Steve's got you. Now, if you'll excuse me, Clint said he'd show me some cool tricks."

With that, your dad briskly walked away, leaving you to stare at Steve Rogers' balming blue eyes.

****

♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

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[v6quewrlds]

&.⠀⠀OFF THE TABLE II⠀⋆⠀JUSTIN HERBERT.

pairing⠀⁎⠀justin herbert x single mother!oc. word count⠀⁎⠀10.7k.

series summary⠀⁎⠀in maya's eyes, love has been completely off the table since the birth of her son, miles, six years ago. fate disagrees with maya's point of view, bringing her justin in more ways than one.

author's note⠀⁎⠀updates might be a little slow after this one. listen y'all, if you're from socal don't pay too close attention to the geography. i'm taking reddit's word for a lot of things in addition to the fact that i have zero clue where justin lives and don't care to know. series warnings⠀⁎⠀18+ mdni, smut, oc warning [maya atkins], single motherhood, friends with benefits, discussions of guilt, mention of deadbeat dads.

read more⠀⁎⠀justin herbert masterlist⠀⁎⠀previous, next.

"From my point of view, I think there's no harm in fully going for the Latin-Asian fusion thing. That opens your options a bit more flavor-wise." Her client of the month was a struggling upscale sushi bar on Manhattan Beach, and Maya was adamant about bringing in a fresh perspective. She had spent the last week experimenting with recipes that would appeal to the area's diverse palate without alienating the restaurant's existing clientele.

"So with the ceviche dish, we could incorporate some sushi-grade fish and add a twist with some citrus-marinated jalapenos," Maya suggested, her mind fully engrossed in the culinary brainstorming session with her client. Her laptop was open between them, a picture of the dish she had in mind taken on her phone the night before after a late-night cooking session two days prior.

The restaurant owner nodded, his eyes lighting up at the idea. "I like it," he said, scribbling notes down on his own pad. "It's definitely something we could promote during happy hour."

"Exactly," she echoed. "I would even go as far as promoting it alongside one of the signature cocktails we talked about. Something with a bit of heat to match the jalapenos, like a spicy marg or a wasabi cucumber gimlet. Really round out the profile."

The restaurant owner nodded again, scribbling away. Maya felt a buzz of satisfaction at the thought of her idea coming to life. "On the idea of keep the menu fresh, what do you think about rolling out a weekly special?" she asked, her mind racing with possibilities. "You could use local, seasonal ingredients to keep it exciting for repeat customers. The local clientele here is on the wealthier side so most will be open to trying new things."

He nodded enthusiastically. "That's a fantastic idea. I've been looking for a way to keep the menu feeling exclusive without being too stuffy." He leaned back in his chair, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I'll have to talk to our suppliers, but I think we could definitely make that work."

"Great," she said, her voice brimming with excitement. "I'll draft up a few options for you to consider and send them over tonight. When do you think I'll be able to touch base with your service staff to talk through their concerns and the new menu ideas?"

The owner checked his calendar before looking back up at her. "How does next Friday sound? We're closed between lunch and dinner from 2 to 5 for staff training. That's usually when we go over menu changes, important reservations, that sort of thing."

Maya nodded, scribbling the details in her planner. "I'll make sure to be here. I'll bring the samples for everyone to taste." She stood up, smoothing out her dress pants. "Thank you for your time today, Mr. Castillo. I'll have the menu draft in your inbox by tomorrow."

Mr. Castillo stood as well, extending his hand for a firm shake. "Thank you, Maya. I really can't thank you enough for this. I'm excited to see what the future holds for us here."

Maya walked out into the warm afternoon, heels clicking rhythmically against the pavement as she dug in her purse to locate her keys. The beach was a short walk away, and the salty breeze carried the faint sound of waves and distant laughter. Despite the allure of the ocean, her thoughts remained inland with Miles. She slid into her car and started the engine, the quiet purr echoing in the quiet oceanside streets.

Miles would be wrapping up a playdate at a former preschool classmate's house within the next thirty minutes, leaving her just enough time to set her route to the host home. She pulled up to the house, a tastefully decorated Craftsman-style home in a quiet neighborhood of Culver City. The yard was meticulously maintained, with a row of tulips lining the walkway.

The front door had been left unlocked, the message shared through the playgroup's group chat. She stepped into the living room, the smells of freshly baked cookies and playdough assaulting her nose, reminding her of those late afternoon preschool pickups. The sound of children's laughter grew louder as she approached the backyard. Miles' giggle was unmistakable, a sweet melody that brought a smile to Maya's face.

"Is that slide new?" she asked, sliding the glass door open and stepping onto the wooden deck. The laughter grew louder, and she spotted Miles at the top of the new play structure, his little legs dangling as he waited for his turn to zoom down the slide.

Danielle, the mother hosting the playdate, turned to wave Maya over. "Hey girl! Bryan installed it last week just for today, what do you think?" She asked, her eyes shining with pride.

Maya couldn't help but laugh. "It's amazing, I'm surprised you guys haven't had a line out the door for the neighborhood kids."

Danielle rolled her eyes. "Oh, trust me, we have. We had to set up a schedule so they don't all show up at once."

Maya chuckled, watching Miles slide down with a look of pure joy. "Well, it's definitely worth it," she said, her eyes focused squarely on her son.

"Anything new with you?" Danielle asked as Maya took a seat at the patio table, sipping from the iced tea she had been offered from a tray.

Maya took a moment before responding, contemplating how much to share about her recent romantic developments. She decided on a small nugget of truth. "Just had a good few weeks," she said with a nonchalant shrug. "Work's been busy, but I got out a little bit, flirted, nothing came of it but it was fun."

Danielle's eyes widened with interest. "Flirted? That's a first since, what, Miles' dad?" She leaned in closer, setting her own tea down. "Spill. Who's the lucky guy?"

Maya felt a warmth spread through her body and into her fingertips as they cupped the glass. "It's no one, really," she said, trying to downplay it. "Just a guy I met at a bar. We texted for a bit, but I think he got busy or something. It's whatever."

Danielle leaned back in her chair, studying Maya's expression. "You're holding out on me," she accused playfully. "You've got that look."

Maya couldn't help but laugh. "What look?"

"The look," Danielle insisted, her eyes twinkling. "Did you follow-up with him? Maybe he's just… busy."

Maya took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation at the thought of seeing Justin again. "No, I didn't," she admitted, her voice dropping a notch. "I just… I don't know if I'm ready for all that yet, you know?" She looked at Danielle, her friend's expression one of understanding. "I just feel so out of my depth with all this. He was charming, sweet, but I guess I just wasn't special enough to keep his attention."

Danielle reached out and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "You're more than special enough, Maya," she assured her. "And if he's not giving you the attention you deserve, then he's the one missing out."

Maya nodded, trying to convince herself of that fact. Her thoughts drifted to the previous week's encounter with Justin, his gentle touch, and the way his eyes lit up when they talked about food. She had hoped their casual flirtation could evolve into something more, but the silence following their meeting had been deafening and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

"Should I reach out? Maybe he is just busy and forgot," Maya wondered aloud, her eyes straying to her phone on the patio table.

Danielle gave her a knowing look. "If you want to see him again, just text him. Worst-case scenario, he's busy or not interested. But you'll never know unless you try."

Maya nodded, staring down her phone, chewing her lip, then turning to locate her son in the midst of his play. "Are you gonna do it?" Danielle deadpanned, breaking the silence.

With a deep breath, Maya picked up her phone, tapping her index finger against the back of her case. Then with a sigh, she set it aside. "Maybe later. I've got a shit ton of stuff to get done tonight." She turned her focus back to Miles, who was now engaged in a game of tag with his friends.

"Maya…" Danielle called, her voice cutting through the laughter of the children. "You're not seriously going to leave it like that, are you?"

Maya's eyes snapped back to her friend's, the warmth in them pushing aside the doubt. She took a deep breath, her hand hovering over her phone. Hovering, but not quite making the move to unlock it. "What do I even say?" she asked, the question a whisper.

"Just be you," Danielle said with a soft smile. "You managed to pull him in at the bar, didn't you? A simple 'hey', ask him about his week, maybe throw in a little self-deprecating humor about your crazy work schedule. Keep it light, easy."

"I'll think about it," she mumbled, watching as Miles dodged the grasp of one of his friends with the agility of a seasoned athlete. The way he laughed, carefree and uninhibited, was a stark contrast to the cautious tightening in her chest at the thought of reaching out to Justin.

As the playdate wound down, Maya helped gather the toys scattered around the yard and thanked Danielle for a great afternoon. With Miles in the backseat, she drove home, the quiet hum of the car's engine allowing her thoughts to drift back to the texts, or rather, the lack thereof.

It wasn't until Friday night rolled around that she reconsidered Danielle's advice.

She had decided to treat herself to a quiet solo dinner at a sushi grill, gathering some last minute inspiration to tie the bow on the Manhattan Beach fusion menu. Armed with her notebook and purse, the distant fire from the center grills heated her face from her spot at the hostess stand. The smell of ginger hung thick in the air, and Maya felt her stomach rumble with anticipation.

The walk to the bar was a long one due to the placement of the grills in the direct center. She had picked a spot that was a little less crowded, but still allowed her to observe the flow of the kitchen and the interaction between the staff and customers. As she approached the counter, she noticed one of the two bartenders was busy serving a large group of male patrons. Maya took a moment to appreciate the sleek black and chrome setup of the bar, the way the light reflected off the bottles behind it.

The men standing at the bar stood heads and shoulders above the average patron, their broad shoulders and muscular builds giving them away as being athletes beyond the shadow of a doubt. She shrugged the observation off; the grill was located in a neighborhood popular with pro athletes, so it wasn't unusual to spot a few lingering around the more exclusive spots.

The second bartender, a petite brunette with a bubbly smile, saw her approach and waved her over. "What can I get you started on tonight, love?" she asked.

Maya took a seat and perused the menu. "Just a ginger beer for now. I'm still deciding on food."

The bartender nodded and set to work, the sound of ice clinking against the glass a familiar and comforting melody in the background. As she waited, Maya couldn't help but overhear snippets of the conversation happening a few stools down. One of the men was talking about a game from college. She turned her head to take in the decor of the restaurant, taking in the modern chandeliers and the abstract art on the walls.

It was when she turned back that she saw him staring directly at her. Justin. Every unfathomable inch of him. His hair was shorter than it was when she had met him weeks ago, but that same quiet confidence was there, his eyes the same piercing shade that reflected the light gorgeously. His cheeks flushed a slight pink, and he looked surprised, yet delighted. She felt her eyes widen as they locked gazes.

He stepped away from his group of friends, drowning out their conversation as he approached. "Maya," he said, his voice a low rumble of surprise. "What are the odds?" There was that familiar lean against the bar top, his beer already forming a ring on the sleek surface.

Maya's heart skipped a beat, her hand frozen mid-air as she tried to process his sudden appearance. She gave him a nervous smile, her eyes darting to his friends before returning to him. "Hi, stranger," she said, her voice a little shakier than she had intended.

Justin grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Small world, isn't it?" He leaned closer, eyes drifting over her notebook and beer as he took in the scene before him.

"Yeah," Maya replied, her heart thumping in her chest. "What are you up to?"

"Just having dinner with the guys," Justin said, gesturing to his teammates who had all turned to look at them now, an array of wide smiles and amused glances passing between them.

"Is that what's been keeping you busy? Dinner with the guys?" Maya asked, her voice filled with a teasing lilt. She couldn't help the little thrill that shot through her at the sight of him, the way his eyes held hers, the ease of their conversation.

"I deserve that," he flushed under her teasing. "Actually, I just was in Oregon for a few days handling some…" he paused, licking his lips hesitantly as if carefully choosing his words. "contractual obligations."

Maya raised an eyebrow. "Contractual obligations?" she echoed. "You're not going to tell me you're a CIA agent or something, are you?"

Justin chuckled, his gaze dropping to the floor briefly before returning to hers. "No, nothing that exciting." He didn't provide any additional details, which only served to pique Maya's curiosity further. The bartender returned to take Maya's order, and she requested the chef's special. The petite brunette nodded before heading back to the POS system.

The men from Justin's group continued shooting them glances just behind his back, their whispers and laughs growing louder. "Am I interrupting time with your friends?" she joked, trying to ease the tension between the two of them.

Justin shook his head, his smile unwavering. "Nah, we're gonna be here for another 30 to 45, still waiting on a table." He cleared his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing before he slowly added, "We'll have plenty of time to bond before the season kicks in."

Maya took a sip of her ginger beer, the fizz tickling her nose as she pondered his words. "The season?" she questioned, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. She had no idea what he meant by that, but if the way he eased that detail in told her it was significant.

Justin looked a bit flustered, as if he'd said more than he meant to. "Yeah," he said, his voice a little less sure than before. "I'm an athlete. NFL."

Maya's eyes went wide, the ginger beer almost slipping from her grasp. "Oh," she managed, trying to keep her cool. "Which team?"

"The Chargers," Justin said, his voice a mix of pride and something else she couldn't quite place. He was watching her reaction closely, gauging her interest or perhaps waiting for recognition that didn't come.

She paused before shaking her head with a chuckle. "Can I be honest?"

"Always," Justin said, leaning closer.

Maya took a deep breath and put her ginger beer down. "I have no idea who you are," she admitted, a laugh tumbling from her lips. "I'm not a sports person. But if you say you play for the Chargers, I'll take your word for it."

Justin's expression brightened with a hint of relief, taking another step closer to her. "No big deal. It's just my job," he said with a shrug.

"So, that's why you're so busy…" she hummed with an upwards curl of her lips. "CIA agent moonlighting as a football player."

That drew a genuine laugh from him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Something like that," he responded. She took note of the deep dimple that appeared in his right cheek. The sound of his laughter was infectious and she found herself joining in.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I'm pretty busy myself," Maya said, absentmindedly flipping her notebook shut. "One secret for another?" she asked, moving forward when Justin nodded. "I have a son. He keeps me just as busy as I'm sure you are."

Justin's smile faltered for a moment before regaining its former warmth. "That's a big deal," he said, his voice genuine and a little softer than before. "How old is he?"

"He's six," Maya said, her eyes shining with pride. "His name is Miles." She watched Justin's reaction carefully, expecting some sign of disinterest or discomfort, but his expression remained open, curious even.

"Six… first grade?" Justin asked, his gaze holding hers with a gentle curiosity that made her heart flutter. She didn't miss the way his eyes dipped to glance at her hands before releasing a shallow breath at the absence of a wedding ring or even a tan line on her left ring finger.

Maya nodded. "Yeah, he's a handful but worth every second," she said with a warm smile. She felt a sudden need to explain herself, to justify her presence in this bustling bar on a Friday night. "He's with my parents for the weekend, so I have a little free time."

Justin's gaze remained on her, his eyes filled with something she couldn't quite read. "Well, it's good that you get some time for yourself," he said, his hand briefly brushing against hers on the bar.

The urge to explain herself continue to ravage her senses, pushing her to provide another disclaimer. "I really don't want you to feel like I'd be offended if you didn't want to pursue things," Maya spoke quickly, her voice a little shaky. "I know having a kid can be a deal-breaker for some guys. No hard feelings at all. I'd probably feel the same way if our situations were reversed."

Justin's expression grew serious, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her forearm. "Maya, I'm interested. Really interested," he assured her, his voice deep and sincere. "As long as you're single, I'd like to get to know you better."

The tension between them grew thick with anticipation. Maya felt a rush of heat to her face and took a moment to compose herself. "Well, I am single," she murmured, looking away shyly before meeting his gaze again. "But I can't guarantee that I'll have much time to devote to… whatever this might be."

"I get it," Justin said, his voice understanding. "My schedule's pretty packed too. My trip to Oregon was a last-minute Nike thing, and I've got a lot riding on the upcoming season." He took a sip of his drink, looking at her intently over the rim. "I can't say it would be fair for me to start something serious either. Asking for your number at the bar was a bit out of character for me, honestly."

Maya sat up a bit straighter at that revelation. "What do you mean?"

Justin cleared his throat, his voice dropping to a murmur. "It's been a while since I've put myself out there like that." He paused, searching her eyes for understanding, continuing when she nodded. "But I liked talking to you, and I'd like to do it again. Maybe without the pressure of making it into something it's not ready to be? At the very least, I think you're worth sacrificing some sleep over."

Maya felt a stutter of her heart, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "So, you're proposing…?"

"We can keep it casual," Justin suggested, his thumb still tracing circles on her arm, sending warm shivers down her spine. "Keep seeing each other, no strings attached, no expectations."

Maya took a deep breath, her eyes searching his. It was a tempting offer, one that whispered sweet nothings into the part of her that had been starving for male companionship for so long. "So… friends with benefits?" she asked, her voice steady despite the racing of her thoughts.

Justin's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, but he met her gaze without faltering. "If that's what you're comfortable with," he said, his voice earnest. "Emphasis on the friends part." A muscular arm bent behind his head to scratch nervously at the back of his head. "I just don't want to miss out on what this might be."

He tapped nervously against his glass bottle, the nervous tick defeating the auditory integrity of the confidence in his voice. Maya took another sip of her ginger beer, her mind racing with possibilities and potential consequences. Her eyes flicked over to the group of towering men who had been watching them, now engaged in their own conversations. She knew what he was asking wasn't typical, but something about the way he spoke, the sincerity in his voice, made her feel like it could work.

"Alright," she finally said, setting her drink down. "Friends with benefits it is. I'll go ahead and let you know that I'm free until Monday morning." There was a haze in Justin's eyes as he digested her words, his hand lingering on her forearm.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his calendar. "Promise I won't make the mistake of leaving this to chance again," he said, looking at her with a determined expression. "How about tomorrow night?"

Maya felt a thrill at his decisiveness, nodding eagerly. "That works for me," she said, watching him tap away at his phone.

Justin looked up, his gaze locking onto hers. "It's a date," he confirmed. "My place or yours?"

Maya's pulse quickened at the prospect of spending the night with him, but she remained cool. "Mine," she said with a nod. "I can send you the address."

Justin nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Text it to me. I'll come over around seven tomorrow night." His words held an air of promise. She nodded, her voice a whisper as she agreed to his plan.

"Justin!" a male voice called out from his group, breaking the intimate moment. He looked over his shoulder, offered a thumbs up, and mouthed "I'll be right there."

Maya felt a twinge of disappointment at the interruption, but she knew this was a public place and he couldn't ignore his friends. "Go ahead," she said, smiling. "Don't keep your team waiting."

"Thank you," he murmured, his hand briefly squeezing her forearm. "I'll text you around five to make sure it's still a good time to come over?"

Maya nodded, trying to keep her excitement in check. "Sounds like a plan," she said, her voice a little too high, a little too cheerful. She welcomed the embrace he offered, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, the strength in his arms, and the beat of his heart against her chest. It had been so long since she'd felt this kind of closeness with someone, and she had to admit, it was intoxicating.

"See you tomorrow?" she asked, her voice thin with a whisper.

"Count on it," he said, his eyes filled with promise. He gave her a final squeeze before letting go, and Maya felt the sudden chill of the cool air in the bar.

Maya watched as Justin walked back to his table, his teammates slapping him on the back as he approached. She couldn't help but feel a bit like she was floating as she finished her ginger beer.

"I might've fucked up," Maya announced the moment the call to her best friend, Brooklyn, connected. She could hear the TV playing in the background and the clatter of kitchenware, but she had to get it off her chest before the excitement overwhelmed her.

"What did you do?" Brooklyn's voice was a mix of amusement and concern.

"Are you alone?" Maya whispered into the phone, her heart racing as she put the phone on speaker and set it down on her bathroom counter.

"Yeah," Brooklyn replied, her voice dropping an octave as she muted the TV.

"Look up Justin Herbert," Maya said, her voice barely a whisper as she paced the bathroom floor. "Tell me if you recognize the face."

"I know what he looks like, quarterback for the Chargers, right?" Brooklyn's voice came back after a few seconds of silence. "What about him?"

Maya leaned against the cool marble countertop, taking a deep breath. "Remember how I said I met a guy at the bar but it didn't go anywhere? That guy is Justin Herbert."

Brooklyn gasped. "You fumbled a quarterback?" she exclaimed. "Maya! Are you just finding this out?"

"Kind of," Maya said, her voice tight. "I ran into him again tonight at this sushi grill. He's actually really sweet, and he seems to be into me…"

"Maya, spit it out!" Brooklyn's voice was a mix of disbelief and excitement. "What happened with him?"

Maya took a deep breath and recounted the evening's events, from the awkward run-in to their unexpected connection, and finally, to the arrangement they'd made. "So, we're doing this friends with benefits thing," she concluded, apprehension coating her words.

Brooklyn was silent for a moment before she burst into laughter. "Girl, you've got to be kidding me," she managed through her giggles. "But seriously, if he's cool with you being a mom and all, and you guys are on the same page, I say go for it. You deserve some fun, and if the sex is good, keep him around; if it sucks, don't."

Maya couldn't help but laugh too, feeling some of her anxiety dissipate. "Thanks, B," she said, rolling her eyes at her friend's blunt advice. "But it's not like it's going to be a regular thing. He's a professional athlete, and I have a kid. We're both busy."

Brooklyn's voice grew serious. "You know what, Maya? Sometimes you just need to let go and enjoy living in the moment. You're a great mom, and you work hard. If this is something that makes you happy without messing with Miles' life, then why not? You deserve a little treat every once in a while."

She felt dazed, her mind playing back the feeling of his eyes on her, his hand squeezing her forearm, the blush that spread across the bridge of his nose and spilled pink across his cheekbones. It was like she'd swallowed a handful of confetti; the colors of their encounter glittering through her thoughts.

"Did you set something up? When are you seeing him?" Brooklyn's question brought Maya back to reality. She checked the time on her phone, realizing that it was already late, nearly midnight. "We're supposed to meet tomorrow night," she replied, chewing her bottom lip.

Brooklyn's voice grew more solemn. "When was the last time you…?" She didn't need to finish the question. Maya knew what she was getting at. It had been a while since she'd been intimate with anyone. Too long, if she was being honest with herself.

She wasn't ready to unearth the various reasons why she hadn't been with anyone since Miles' father. It was a conversation for another time, if it was ever a conversation she was willing to have. "It's been a minute," she admitted, shaky words hinged on a shakier breath.

"I genuinely want you to enjoy yourself tomorrow, My," Brooklyn said, her voice a gentle reminder that she was still listening on the other end of the line. "Just take it slow and make sure you communicate what you want."

Maya nodded, though her friend couldn't see it. "Thanks, B. Love you." They talked a few more minutes before wishing each other off. By the time her head hit the satin pillow, every inch of her was buzzing with anticipation.

The next day at work was a whirlwind of client meetings and brainstorming, leaving little room for her thoughts to stray. Yet, every time she glanced at her phone, she could feel her eyes drifting up to the time, ticking down to their rendezvous.

The clock hit 5PM and just as he promised, a message from Justin popped up on her screen. "Still good for tonight?" he asked. Maya felt butterflies in her stomach, and she quickly typed back, "Still good," she confirmed. "I'll be home from work in a bit." He responded with a few logistics, letting her know he would be stopping by his home before heading over.

If this were a cartoon, Maya would have jumped out of her skin at the chime of the doorbell. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart knocked against her ribcage, and she felt the heat in her cheeks spread down her neck. Her reflection stared back at her, jittery and anxious, in the mirror near the entryway of her home. She took a deep breath, smoothed her hair, and checked her outfit one last time: white linen drawstring pants and a square neck top of the same tone that she had agonized over for much longer than she was ready to admit to anyone.

Time slowed as her eyes swept over her figure in the mirror, taking in her fresh matching manicure and pedicure, hastily done in her bathroom before leaving for her meetings that morning. The doorbell rang again, and she took one more deep breath before heading towards the sound. She opened the door to find Justin standing on her porch, lilies in hand and a boyish smile playing on his lips. His hair was impeccably tame, a touch more gelled than it had been the night before, and he looked fresh from the shower, the smell of soap and cologne wafting towards her.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, holding out the flowers. "Thought they'd be nice."

Maya's eyes widened as she reached a hand forward to accept the bouquet, feeling the soft petals against her fingertips. "They're beautiful, thank you," she murmured, her cheeks growing even warmer as she stepped aside to let him in. "Come in."

Justin walked in, his presence filling the room with a sense of excitement and nerves. He looked around, nodding in approval at the cozy yet elegant decor of her home. "Shoes off?" he questioned, quick to notice the wooden shoe rack by the door.

"Yes, please," Maya said, lifting the bouquet to her nose, inhaling deeply as her eyes fluttered shut. When brown eyes met pale green, she couldn't help mirroring the shy smile that grew on Justin's face. They both knew what tonight was about, but the gesture felt sweet, almost too tender for what they had agreed to. She led him into the living room, the soft glow of the pendant lights casting shadows across his broad shoulders.

"Lilies," she hummed out, searching for a vase in her kitchen as Justin followed her, his eyes taking in her home with curiosity. She filled a clear vase with water and placed the flowers in the center of her kitchen island.

"I wasn't sure if you had a preference," Justin said, leaning against the counter as he watched Maya arrange the lilies. His voice was smooth, like a high-grade dark liquor, resonating in her chest and running through her veins like warm honey. She swallowed, her throat dry, and turned to face him.

"Magnolias are my favorite," she responded, opening a drawer to find her kitchen scissors, a navy blue pair that perfectly matched the accents scattered around the room. "But lilies are a close second. Thank you. They're gorgeous."

Justin took a step closer, his gaze dropping to her mouth, then back up to meet her eyes. "You're welcome." His voice was low, movements slow as he moved to stand just behind her. As she set down each flower after trimming the stems, he placed them in the vase, his large hands gently peeling open the petals that had folded in on themselves.

Maya felt his body heat radiating against her back, and she could hear the soft thud of his heart in her own chest. She snipped the last stem at an angle, handing it to Justin, her fingertips brushing against his. He took the final lily and placed it in the vase, stepping back to admire their combined effort.

"Nice work," he spoke softly. "Fits with the vibe of your place."

Maya set the scissors down in the sink. "Thank you," she murmured, feeling the weight of the moment settle over them like a warm blanket.

"How long have you been out here?" he asked, stepping away to lean against the island. His arms crossed over his chest, accenting the muscles beneath his shirt. They strained against the plain black t-shirt, discipline from his training evident in every line of his body.

"In Culver?" she clarified, feeling her back straighten as she leaned against the sink. "Two years now. I've lived in LA County my whole life, can't imagine living anywhere else." She turned to face him, her eyes tracing over the lines of his jaw, his cheekbones, and the way his eyes seemed to darken under the dim light the longer they stood there.

"It's a good spot," Justin agreed, his voice still a soft rumble. "Quiet, but not too far from the action." His eyes searched hers, a silent question hanging in the air. Maya felt the tension build, a delicious cocktail of nerves and desire.

"I'm assuming you're out near the beaches somewhere?" Maya asked, her hands nervously rubbing her arms. The question was innocent, but she felt the urge to fill the silence that stretched out between them.

"Hidden Hills, actually," he spoke up, his eyes finally taking her full figure in. "It's quieter, more private, close to the mountains." Each word grew successively lower, dripping in a tone that suggested although he was more than happy to discuss his living situation, there was something else on his mind.

Maya felt the air thicken. "It sounds beautiful," she managed, the words clipped and breathy as his hands found her arms. He removed her hands from her skin, drawing her closer to his body. There was a gratifying magnetism to his touch, a force that made her knees weak.

A hand found her waist, the touch electric, sending a shockwave through Maya's core. She stepped closer to him, feeling the warmth of his breath against her cheek. "It is," he responded, the words falling from his lips nonchalantly.

Her head tilted back to take in the full view of him, the soft light from the pendant lights above highlighting his features. Justin's hand slid from her waist to the back of her neck, his thumb brushing against her pulse point as his eyes searched hers. "So beautiful," he whispered, his breath warm and sweet.

The moment was charged, the air around them crackling with the unspoken understanding of what was about to happen. Maya felt a flutter in her stomach, a mix of anticipation and nerves that she hadn't felt in a long time. She stepped closer to him, chest to chest. His hand tightened around her neck, angling her head just right as he leaned in. Just before their lips met, he asked a question, clementine sweet and a little shy, "Can I kiss you?"

Maya's breath caught in her throat. The brief handful of seconds between the question and her response seemed to stretch on for hours. Then, she nodded, her eyes fluttering shut as his lips met hers. The kiss was gentle, soft exploration that enveloped her lips in supple warmth. She leaned into him, her hands finding his biceps, feeling the power beneath her fingertips. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world, as if he had no where else to be. It was just them, in her kitchen, the scent of the fresh lilies mingling with the lingering aroma of his cologne filling her senses and making her head spin.

The hand cupping her face guided her into a more passionate kiss, his other arm wrapping around her waist to pull her closer. Maya melted into him, the heat of his body enveloping her, making her forget the exhaustion of the day. He kissed her as if her starving, as if he had been waiting for this moment since the moment they met. His kisses grew more urgent, his tongue slipping past her teeth to tango with hers. She whimpered softly, her hands roaming from his arms to his chest, feeling the contours of his muscles.

Breaking the kiss, there was a brief pause before she laughed. Slow and soft as her head bowed forward to hide the smile that was growing across her face.

"It's been a long time," she eventually confessed, meeting his gaze again.

"Would you believe me if I said the same?" Justin's voice was low, the question a gentle tease, as he brushed his thumb across her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw. The admission hung in the air, stretching the moment out into something more intimate than it had been before.

"No," she chuckled, her arms draping over his neck, releasing an involuntary sigh as both of his hands held her waist tightly, pressing her closer to him. "But I appreciate the attempt to make me feel better."

"Save your compliments until after," he responded with that bashful smile of is. His head dipped to kiss along her neck, hands hovering over the curve of her ass, not quite touching but the promise was there. He was giving her control, making her feel desired without overstepping, and Maya appreciated it more than he knew. "Might disappoint you."

Maya's laugh was light and airy, the sound of it filling the kitchen. "I doubt that." She leaned back into his touch, her eyes closing as his mouth worked its magic. His mouth rediscovered hers, the kiss deepening and growing more heated. Her head tilted back to give him better access, the feeling of his kisses setting her skin on fire.

Justin's hands moved from her waist to her hips, his thumbs gently digging into her skin as he lifted her onto the counter. The coolness of the marble sent a shiver down her spine, her legs wrapping around his waist as the kiss grew more intense. His kisses grew more demanding, his tongue caressing hers, tasting and exploring every part of her mouth. Maya's hands slid down to his chest, her nails lightly scoring the fabric of his shirt.

Maya felt her heart racing, her breath coming in shallow gasps as Justin's kisses grew more urgent. He paused, his eyes searching hers for consent. She nodded, unable to speak, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He took this as his cue and leaned back in, his teeth grazing her neck, slipping the strap of her top down her shoulder as his kisses trailed down to her collarbone. She let out a small moan, her hands fisting in his hair as she tried to hold onto something solid in the storm of sensations.

His hands roamed up her sides, feeling the softness of her skin, the heat of her body. He squeezed her hips, cursing under his breath before he leaned back into her, pulling the top over her head and capturing her mouth again. "Bedroom," she said between kisses before pulling back to catch her breath.

Their eyes locked for a moment, the air thick with desire. He nodded, lifting her off the counter with ease. She wrapped her legs around his waist, his strong arms supporting her as they stumbled through her house, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Where am I going?" he laughed upon the realization that he had no clue which way was which in her space. She reciprocated his amusement, pecking his lips one more time before tapping his hand, delighted as he took the nonverbal hint to set her down.

Maya led him through the dimly lit hallway, the sound of her pulse pounding in her ears. They reached her bedroom, a soft oasis of white and grey tones, the king-sized bed dressed in silk sheets that matched the curtains fluttering gently in the breeze from the open window.

"You're stunning," Justin murmured, his eyes drinking in the sight of Maya standing before him in her bra and linen pants. She took a seat at the edge of her bed, crossing her legs, watching him as he took off his shirt. His abdomen was a washboard of muscles, each one defined and rippling as he moved. She felt a surge of desire that was almost overwhelming.

His hands parted her legs, providing space to accommodate his larger frame as he knelt between them. Maya's eyes traveled down his body, her gaze lingering on the waistband of his pants. Justin caught her stare and chuckled, placing a warm kiss to her cheek. "Patience," he whispered, his hand finding the back of her neck to draw her back into a kiss. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, his eyes searching hers for any hint of doubt. Finding none, he kissed her again, pressing her back into the mattress.

"I wanna know what you like," Justin murmured against her ear, his breath warm and tickling her skin. His hands began to explore her body, his fingertips dancing along the edges of her bra and the waistband of her pants. Maya felt a shiver run down her spine, her body responding to his touch. "You'll tell me what's working and what's not, yeah?"

"Mmhmm," she mumbled, nodding as her eyes fluttering closed. She felt his hands move to her bra clasp, deftly unhooking it, allowing her breasts to spill out into his waiting hands. He took his time, teasing her sensitive nipples before his mouth followed, suckling and nipping, making her back arch off the bed.

Maya's breath grew ragged as she felt Justin's hand slide down the front of her pants, his thumb brushing against her clit over the fabric. She gripped the bedsheets tightly, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it was a futile effort. His touch burned into her skin as he drew the pants down her legs, dropping them where he had disposed of her bra moments before.

"Justin," she whispered his name, a plea and a warning. He looked up at her, before leaning over her, trailing slow kisses from the top of her breasts down the center of her chest, over the small roll of her stomach, and down to her navel. He kissed her gently, a silent promise that he'd take care of her, that he'd make her feel good.

Maya's body responded to his touch, her legs instinctively spreading wider. He kissed along her inner thighs, the anticipation making her quiver. His hands creeped up her thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed as his mouth hovered just above her panties. She felt him inhale deeply, a subtle groan escaping him as if her scent was intoxicating. The fabric was the only barrier between them now, and the heat of his breath made it clear that he was more than ready to take things further.

Maya felt exposed, vulnerable, but his gaze was nothing but adoration and hunger. Justin took his time, kissing along the soft skin leading to her core, making her squirm and whimper with need. His touch was light, feathering over her most sensitive spots, building the anticipation to a crescendo.

Her hand moved to cover her mouth as she sighed and squirmed underneath him. Justin took the cue and began to kiss her through her underwear, the touch of his lips brushing featherlight against her, making her toes curl. "Oh," she breathed out, the sound muffled by her hand. He looked up at her, a smug smile playing on his lips before he hooked his fingers into the fabric and slid it off her.

The coolness of the air hit her skin and she shivered, but it was quickly forgotten as Justin's warm mouth replaced it. His tongue found her folds, flattening and exploring, making her body tighten with pleasure. He was gentle but insistent, slow but deliberate as he indulged in his first tastes of her. Maya's hand fell away from her mouth, and she gripped the bedsheets tightly, her knuckles tight as she moaned his name.

His thumbs parted her folds, giving him better access to her clit, and he began to circle it with the tip of his tongue. Maya's hips rolled upward, urging him closer, her thighs tightening around his shoulders. Justin took his cue, increasing the pressure and speed, his tongue flicking and stroking her sensitive nub as Maya's breaths grew erratic.

"Shit," Maya hissed through gritted teeth, the sensation of his tongue on her clit was almost too intense. Her legs trembled, and she felt like she could come at any moment. Justin seemed to sense her urgency, his movements becoming more purposeful, his tongue pressing harder and faster against her swollen nub.

"Talk to me, Maya," Justin rasped, his voice thick with need as he continued to pleasure her. His arms wound around her thighs, keeping her in place as he feasted on her. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her moans to a whisper, not wanting to be too loud. Her hands found his hair, her fingers tangling in the soft strands as she directed him to the exact spot that sent shockwaves through her body.

"So good, Justin, so good," Maya breathed, her eyes squeezed shut as pleasure began to coil tightly within her. The warmth of his breath, the wetness of his tongue, it was all too much and yet not enough.

Justin took her words as encouragement, his tongue swirling and flicking over her clit with newfound vigor. He could feel her body tense, her legs shaking. His hands gripped her hips, holding her still as she began to buck against his mouth. Though he could sense she was close, he could tell she need a bit more to send her over the edge.

"What do you need, baby?" Justin murmured against her, his voice gruff with desire.

"Your hands," she whispered, her voice shaky. "Use your hands, please."

Justin's eyes gleamed with understanding as he slid one hand up her body, his thumb tracing circles around her clit as he inserted two fingers into her, stretching her and curling them in a way that had her hips jerking up to meet him. Maya's eyes rolled back in her head, a long, low moan escaping her as he found that magical spot deep within her. The hand she had embedded in his hair gripped the strands tighter, her other hand gripped the sheets next to her head as she arched her back, pushing herself closer to him.

"Mmm, sweetest thing," Justin murmured as he began to pump his fingers in and out of her, stroking her in time with his tongue. He could feel her getting wetter, her muscles tightening around his fingers as she grew closer to climax. Maya's moans grew louder, and she threw her head back, her body shaking as she lost control.

"There you go, so beautiful," Justin murmured, his voice a gentle rumble against her thighs as he watched Maya's orgasm crash over her. Her body tensed, then released, a gush of wetness coating his hand as she rode out her peak. Maya's mouth fell open, and she stared down at him with a mix of shock and pleasure. He took his time, his tongue and fingers moving in tandem, ensuring that she felt every ounce of her climax before finally pulling back after she had gone slack with satisfaction.

He kissed a path back up her stomach, her breasts, and her neck before finally claiming her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "Thank you," she murmured against his mouth, her voice hoarse from her moans. "Fuck, thank you so much."

Justin chuckled, his eyes bright with amusement and arousal. "I should be the one thanking you," he said, his voice a low growl as he positioned himself at her entrance. "You taste incredible."

She breathed heavily, trying to catch her breath as she watched him fumble in his pockets for a condom. He pulled out a black foil packet and ripped it open with his teeth, rolling it on with a confidence that made her stomach flip. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle, and Maya nodded, still floating on the aftershocks of her climax.

"I'm glad you had one, I'm sure mine are expired," she laughed nervously as she watched him sheath himself, the mood lightening slightly. Justin leaned in to kiss her again, his hand resting on her cheek. The kiss was tender, contrasting with the passionate, desperate one from moments ago. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock pressing against her wet folds.

"Stopped by CVS on my way over," he chuckled against her lips as the head of his cock swept through her folds, teasing her. "Think the guy at self checkout nearly recognized me," he whispered, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

Maya couldn't help but giggle, the tension in the room dissipating slightly as she felt the warmth of his skin pressing against her own. "Well, I'm grateful for your preparedness," she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt him nudge against her entrance.

Justin took a moment to appreciate the feel of her, the slickness of her arousal coating his tip. He pushed in gently, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. Maya's eyes went wide, and she took a deep breath, but she nodded her consent. He pushed in further, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her. He stilled, giving her time to adjust to his size.

Mirrored sighs passed through parted lips as she adjusted to the fullness of him. Justin's gaze remained fixed on hers, a silent question in his eyes. Maya nodded again, and he began to move, his hips rocking in a steady rhythm that had her gasping. The initial stretch gave way to a warm, delicious friction that had her breathing out slow and deep. He was mindful of her comfort, his strokes deep and deliberate, each one hitting that spot she hadn't realized she'd been craving.

Her body began to respond, hips moving in sync with his, the quiet slap of skin on skin echoing in the room. "God, yes," she purred as she held his face in her hands, her lips brushing against his before taking his bottom lip in a gentle nip. Justin's eyes darkened, and he picked up the pace, his hips moving faster, his cock driving into her with purpose.

Their breathing grew ragged, their kisses sloppy with passion as they lost themselves in each other. Maya's legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on as the tension within her began to build once more. "Deeper, please," she whispered, her back arching as he hit her sweet spot.

Justin's muscles flexed as he complied, shifting his weight to press her further into the mattress. She released a strangled moan that sent a jolt of pleasure through him. He could feel the tightness of her pussy, her walls contracting around his cock as she grew closer to another orgasm. His own desire was mounting, his balls drawing up tight, but he was determined to make sure she came again before he allowed himself the release he desperately craved.

His nose nudged against hers, foreheads touching as their eyes locked, the air thick with desire. "You take me so well," he murmured, his voice strained with effort as he held back his own climax. She nodded, her hands roaming his back, her nails digging in as he pushed deeper into her gaining a steady rhythm that had her crying out.

"Feel so good around me, squeeze me just right… fuck, you're so tight," Justin groaned into Maya's ear. Maya's eyes squeezed shut tighter, her orgasm building again. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed this, the feeling of being filled by someone who knew what they were doing. If she wasn't so caught up in the moment, she might've felt a twinge of embarrassment at how pathetic she sounded. But she didn't care; all she cared about was the delicious pressure building in her core, the way Justin's cock hit her in just the right spot, the way his muscles and warm skin felt under her fingertips as she clung to him for dear life.

"Don't stop, please don't stop." She whispered, voice trailing off with a moan. He watched her face, her eyes scrunched up in pleasure, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. He leaned in, taking her mouth in another bruising kiss, his hips snapping into her with a ferocity that had her gasping for air. Maya felt the second orgasm wash over her, her body tightening around him, her nails digging into his back.

Justin could feel her pussy pulsing around his cock, the sensation so intense that he had to bite back a groan. He waited for her to come down from her peak before he allowed himself to let go, his hips moving faster, harder, until he couldn't hold back anymore. He buried his face in her neck, biting down on his bottom lip as he came, his body shaking with the force of his release.

For a moment they sat in the stillness, panting and sticky with sweat, their hearts racing in sync. When he pulled out, Maya made a small sound of protest, the feeling of emptiness sudden and surprising. He kissed her neck gently, his breath warm against her skin. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

Maya nodded, savoring the feeling of his weight on her. "Perfect," she murmured, her voice hoarse from the moans and cries that had filled the room. She felt him shift, his body sliding off hers, and she reluctantly opened her eyes to find him standing beside the bed, disposing of the condom.

He turned back to her with a soft smile, "Bathroom?"

Maya nodded, "Through that door, to the left."

While Justin was in the bathroom, she couldn't help but replay the last few moments in her mind. The way his muscles had tensed with his release, the sound of his grunts of pleasure, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress—it was all so overwhelmingly perfect. She took a deep breath and decided to use the time to collect herself before he returned. She stood up from the bed, groaning at the ache between her legs, and walked to the bedside drawer to grab an old t-shirt, deciding to hold on pulling on a clean pair of underwear until her own trip to the bathroom.

When he came back out, Maya was lying on the bed, her legs drawn up to her chest, the shirt riding up to expose her smooth, brown skin. She felt a bit shy now that the haze of passion had lifted slightly. Justin leaned over the bed, planting a kiss on her forehead. "So, about those compliments…"

Maya couldn't help but laugh, full, bright, and warm, pulling him down towards her for a peck. "The compliments still stand. It was really good." Her giggles continued as he flushed under her gaze, bashful but pleased.

She stood from the bed, heading off to the bathroom to clean up. When she returned, Justin's back faced her, muscles beneath sun-tanned skin flexing with the effort of pulling his discarded shirt over his head. "What are you up to for the rest of the night?" Justin asked, glancing over his shoulder as he moved to zip and button his pants.

Maya shrugged. She felt a sudden shyness wash over her. It had been so long since she'd had a one-night stand, and she didn't quite know the protocol for what came next. Was she supposed to kick him out? Rush him toward the door and pretend it was nothing more than a good lay? Or was she allowed to enjoy his company a little longer? Offer him to stay the night?

If the way he seemed to move in slow motion as he zipped up his pants was any indication, Justin had noticed the hesitance in her tone and the indecision in her gait. He turned to face her fully, the question in his eyes mirroring the one in hers. "Tell what you're thinking," he spoke, the rumble of his voice cutting through the quiet of the room.

Maya took a deep breath. "I don't know if this is how these things usually go," she admitted, playing with the hem of her shirt as she leaned against the doorway of the bathroom. "But, I had a really great time tonight. And, like you said last night, I do think we could be really good friends. Even with the other stuff."

He stepped closer, reaching out to take her hand. "So tell me your plans for tonight. Friends hang out, right?" Justin's eyes searched hers, hopeful but not pushy.

"Well," she exhaled, trying to ignore the way her heart raced at the thought of spending more time with him. "I've had a recipe bouncing around in my head for a client I'm working with. I could use some fresh eyes, and a taste-tester." She bit her lip, watching his reaction closely.

Justin's smile grew wider. "I'd love to help," he said, genuine interest lighting up his eyes. "Did you think I'd turn down a meal?" He laced his fingers with hers and gave her hand a gentle tug. "Lead the way, chef."

If she were a few shades lighter, the warmth in Maya's cheeks would have been glaringly obvious as she led Justin to the kitchen. She hadn't had anyone in her kitchen, not like this, for what felt like an eternity. It was her sanctuary, where she poured her love and passion, and now, she was sharing it with someone who had the power to dismantle the walls she'd built around her heart. There was a strange comfort in the simplicity of it all, though—just two people sitting in the aftermath of the afterglow. It felt almost domestic.

Wide eyes watched as Justin lifted a bite of the upscale plate, Maya's twist on her grandmother's oxtail stew recipe, to his lips. She'd been nervous about serving something so personal to a man she'd only just met, but the way he savored each bite told her she'd hit the mark. She couldn't help the pride that swelled in her chest as he nodded in approval, swiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "This is incredible, Maya. Really good."

The smile that broke out on Maya's face was a mix of relief and satisfaction. She watched as Justin took another bite, his eyes closing in appreciation. "Thank you," she said, feeling a bit more at ease now. "It's based on my grandmother's recipe. I've been playing around with it for a new client."

Justin continued chewing, slightly amused by the way she retrieved a notebook from one of the island drawers. She flipped the small black cover open, sorted through the pages filled with neat rows of notes, and scribbled something down. "Ah, the notebook," he teased, taking a sip of the freshly made mango-passionfruit juice she'd blended together.

"The notebook," she echoed with a chuckle, "This is my bible. It's where I keep all my thoughts, notes, and inspirations for my work." Maya looked at the notebook with affection before setting it aside, focusing her gaze back on Justin. "So, tell me, what do you think needs to be tweaked?"

He pondered for a moment, swirling the juice in his glass before taking another sip. "I don't know," he said honestly with a laugh and a shrug. "It's perfect, really."

"Okay, I guess I could ask specifics," Maya said with a smile. "What do you think about the balance of flavors? When does the spice kick in for you?"

"The flavors are spot on," Justin replied, his eyes sparkling with delight. "The spice is a slow burn, which I like. It doesn't overpower the other seasoning." He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "But, if you're looking for something to tweak, maybe just a hint more of thyme."

"You don't even know what that means, do you?" Maya teased, raising an eyebrow.

Justin chuckled, setting his fork down. "No comment," he said, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "But seriously, Maya, this is amazing."

Her laughter filled the kitchen, the sound bouncing off the gleaming countertops and stainless steel appliances. "Well, I'm happy to hear that," she said, her heart swelling with pride. "Maybe we can make this a regular thing. You can be my taste-tester."

"I'd be happy to help," Justin said with a grin. He casted a glance to his Apple Watch. "But, I gotta head out. Got some early morning training I can't miss." He stood up, stretching his tall frame, his muscles rippling under his shirt.

"It's getting late," she echoed. "How long's your drive?"

"Not too bad," he said, brushing a hand through his hair. "But I've got to get going if I want to get some decent rest."

She walked him to the door, feeling the cool night air sneak in as he stepped out onto the porch. He turned to her, his hand resting on the doorframe, and for a moment, Maya watch the conflict play out on his face—desire to stay, responsibility to go. "I had a great time tonight, Maya," he murmured, his eyes holding hers in a way that made her knees weak.

"Me too," she whispered, her voice barely a breath. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and the hope of future moments. Justin leaned in, capturing her in another kiss, tenderly giving into a brief second of abandon before pulling back. "I'll text you," he promised, the words lingering in the air as he took a hesitant step back.

"That sounds familiar," she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as a good-natured smile tugged at her lips.

Justin chuckled, that deep, round dimple in his cheek resurfacing. "Deserved again." He propped his forearm above her head, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes tracing the lines of her face as her head tilted back to properly take him in. "But I promise, I won't be the one to fuck this up again. I'll text you first. I swear."

Maya's smile grew into a grin, the warmth of his body radiating against her as they shared the small space. "I'm holding you to that," she murmured.

Then there was a lull. Justin made no effort to turn around, unlock his car, and leave. Instead, he remained where he was, his eyes locked onto Maya's. It stretched on forever; this silent conversation passing in between dilated pupils and shallow breaths. From this angle, where Justin towered over her, Maya could see the slight stubble on his chin, the way the moon cast shadows on his cheekbones, the softness of his lips that had just been on hers. There was a pull to him, a gravitational force that she hadn't felt in so long, and she found herself leaning in for just one more taste.

She swore it would be quick. Just one more kiss to hold her over until they saw each other again. But as soon as their lips met, she felt everything all over again. The heat of his skin, the softness of his mouth, the way he tasted like a drug. It was addictive, this rush of sensation, a hit to the system that made her heart knock against her ribs. Her hands curled into his hair, his touch pressed into her waist.

One more kiss was never going to be enough.

She was obsessed.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Wrong Name Pt 1/4

John Walker x Reader

When the wrong name is said in a moment of passion is it what it seems?

Warnings: Sex, wrong name being said during sex

“New love for two of the team or a rebound and a broken heart?” was an article you happened to see while trying to read a Nasa clip Joaquin had emailed you. You never meant for your relationship with John to make it out of the tower. It was still so damn new. You and him had started seeing each other a few months before. He was really a sweetheart underneath everything. The worst part? Your team said the same things when they thought you weren’t listening.

“What do we do if he’s just using her to try to get Olivia back?” Yelena asked Ava. Neither of them knew you were in the hallway, just shy of their view. You held a hand over your mouth so neither of them would hear you. “We will be there for her. No matter what. They’re both grown” was Ava’s response.

Then you’d overheard Bucky on the phone with Sam. “This is the worst decision she’s ever made. He was with her for how many years? That doesn’t go away” you felt your heart twist. Maybe they were right? Maybe you should just break things off with John before it went any deeper, while you could still be on the same team? The truth was though you were already in love with him. You were just a fucking idiot that let your heart land where it may.

You were curled up on your bed, flipping through a notebook you shared with Yelena and Ava. The three of you used it for days when you didn’t necessarily want to talk but needed to communicate but wasn’t on a mission so this was the means you used. You laughed lightly looking at a sketch of cucumber, Yelena’s guinea pig that Bob had done on the corner of one of the pages. 

When there was a heavy handed yet soft knock at your door you knew who it was. “Yeah John?” you called out and the door opened, he peeked his head in. His blonde locks were falling into his face a little, he pushed them back and offered you a smile. He was dressed in just jeans and a t-shirt. None of you had been forced to leave the tower for a couple days so no one was really dressed outside for comfort.

“Hey sweetheart. You want to go grab dinner or something?” you shook your head “No thanks” his smile fell slightly “Did I do something?” you shifted to sit up, sliding the notebook into your side drawer “No, I just… I don’t feel like the public eye right now” he let out a breath “Oh, ok. Good. I mean…I thought I did something to you, to upset you” “No” you assured him with a smile, half expecting him to leave but he hovered, just inside the door. 

“Was there something else?” you asked, feeling your skin itch with the urge to touch him, to have him touch you but you knew if you didn’t pull away first he would never. “I miss you darlin” he admitted and you laughed lightly “I’m right here John” he nodded “I’ll call for takeout. Want your usual?” you nodded “Yeah, that’s fine”

While John was gone to meet the delivery person you took a shower. You were just towel drying your hair when he knocked again. You walked out the bathroom and across your room to open the door. He  held up the takeout bag “Here honey” you smiled “You don’t want to eat with me?” he shrugged “I don’t want to crowd you” and you felt your heart twist. God why did he have to be so fucking sweet when it was just the two of you? Why couldn’t he be the arrogant asshole? Why did he have to look like a six foot two kicked puppy? 

“Come on John” you pushed the door open a little further and he looked like you’d offered him a million dollars. You rolled your eyes and bumped your shoulder against his “Shoes off Walker and do not spill anything on my bed!” he grinned “Yes ma’am”

You’d just meant to eat with him. You hadn’t meant to eat with him then for him to ask if you wanted to watch a movie and that would result in you going back to his room with him.

John was laid back on the headboard and you were laying back against him.  He had his arms around you as the two of you watched whatever old western he clicked on. You were attempting to fight the urge to pick at him about it. When you tilted your head back however he was already looking at you instead of the screen “What?” you whispered quietly and he shook his head “You’re just really damn beautiful”

You felt your heart flip at his words. Moments like this you wanted to believe him, wanted him to want you as much as you wanted him. You smiled “If I’m so beautiful then kiss me” a smirk slipped onto his face “Yes ma’am” one of his hands came up to hold the back of your head, holding you in place as his lips crashed against yours. When his other hand slipped down and squeezed your thigh just hard enough to pull a gasp out of you he used that moment to roll his tongue into your mouth. You whined lightly against him and his grip tightened just a little. 

You broke away from his mouth, chest heaving “I um..damn” you whispered. You and John had done a lot but hadn’t quite crossed the line into penetrative sex yet. He had his reasons, he didn’t want to hurt you. You were nervous. This felt different. 

“We don’t have to do anything more” he promised, eyes resting on your lips. You wanted him so damn bad. “Do you want me John?” you asked and he nodded, “More than damn near anything I can think of sweetheart” you smiled “Are you sure?” “Yes” he replied so you nodded, turning to slip your legs over his lap, straddling him. He watched you with wide eyes. “I’m trusting you here John. Please don’t hurt me” 

“I promise you, I’ll make you feel good” he swore, pulling you down into a kiss that made your entire body feel like a live wire was run across it. How in the hell he could make you feel more with a kiss than some men had made you feel with their entire bodies was beyond you. “Quit teasing Walker” you breathed into the kiss and he swatted your ass lightly “Be nice baby. I’m gonna take care of you. I promise”

His hands slipped under your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. “So beautiful” he whispered, leaning forward to trail open mouthed kisses along your throat. Your head fell back, a moan escaping you. “Feels good” you breathed and felt him shift under you. You tugged at his shirt and he smiled “You want it off baby?” “Please” you pleaded so he leaned up far enough to tug the shirt off and tossed it. Once his chest was bare to you, you allowed yourself the opportunity to admire the skin now exposed to you, nails lightly scratching the patch of strawberry blonde hair on his chest. You caught his lips in a kiss, rolling your hips against his and his head fell back then “Damn sweetheart” you laughed “Enjoying yourself?” 

He looked up at you, blue eyes shining brightly even in the dimmed lights of his room “I have the most gorgeous woman in my lap, yeah I’m enjoying myself” you rolled your eyes “Quit flirting. You’ve got me” he laughed, pulling you to his chest “Never” and flipped the two of you so your back was to the bed “Now, let’s see how many times I can make you cum before I ever take my damn jeans off” you grinned “Lets see what you’ve got” 

Never challenge a super soldier’s stamina. Your legs were quivering around John’s head. He’d made you see stars so damn many times with just his fingers and tongue. You’d discovered he loved getting praised and if you pulled his hair it unleashed an entirely different side of him. 

“John, please baby” you whimpered and he lifted his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your clit as he held your gaze “What do you need darlin?” you tried twice before getting enough air into your lungs “Need you, god I need you inside me” he smirked, pressing kisses against your thighs “Yes ma’am” 

He slowly kissed his way up your body, when he got to your mouth the kiss he left there was so gentle, so borderline loving it made your head spin. His large hands smoothed down your thighs, calloused fingers digging in before he cursed “I don’t have any fucking condoms. I didn’t plan on this” 

“I’m covered,” you told him. You’d just gotten a new IUD a couple months before, on top of doctor’s being fairly certain you getting pregnant was a very low possibility anyways. “Are you sure? We can wait” he offered and you shook your head “Please” his head fell over on your shoulder “Don’t beg for me, I’m not worth it” your fingers buried in their hair, tugging roughly until he lifted his head to look at you. You smiled at him “Yes you are. Now fuck me” 

He nodded “Ok” and pressed a kiss to your lips before lining himself up with your opening. The feeling of him stretching your body around him had a low moan falling from both of you. “Feels so good John” you whimpered and he laughed lightly “Just what I was gonna tell you”

____________________

He quickly found a pace that had your nails digging into his flesh, his hips snapping into yours with such a force small gasps were ripped from your throat. You could feel the tension in his hips as he held himself back and knowing that was just a portion of his strength? Fuck that did something to you.

“Please don’t stop” you begged, feeling yourself right on the edge of pleasure. He slipped a hand between you, fingers finding your clit. He teased tight circles onto the sensitive bud and you came, hard, shaking around him. His pace never changed, hips never slowed. 

He worked you through your orgasm then buried his face in his neck, chasing his own release. Your nails raked through his hair, down his back. Your breaths coming in sharp gasps. He had to be right there on the edge. He used one hand to lift your body, angling your hips just right and you felt him bury himself as deep as he could inside of you, thick spurts of cum painting your walls and right before you opened your mouth to say something he mumbled “Fuck, feels so good Liv”

You froze under him. It felt like your entire body had gotten dipped into ice water. Feels so good Liv. Liv. He was thinking about her. God, you were a fucking idiot. Everyone tried to warm you. You closed your eyes, begging your breathing to even out. The feeling of his cock buried in you, his body on top of yours made your stomach turn.

“I need to get up John” you whispered after a moment, opening your eyes. He was already looking at you, the bliss of release quickly fading by a look of confusion “Ok, is something wrong? Did I… oh god please don’t tell me I hurt you?” he gently pulled out of you and went to find his shirt to help you clean up but you shook your head “I’ll just take a shower back in my room”

“You’re not staying here?” he asked and almost sounded hurt. Fuck he was a good actor. How the hell had he failed drama class? “No, I um…I’m gonna go” you whispered, standing on shaking legs as he watched you. He slipped his boxers on and took a step forward, whispering your name “Talk to me. What did I do here? You told me you wanted me. I never would do anything you didn’t want. Please tell me I didn’t cross lines”

You shook your head, swallowing down tears because you didn’t want to set off alarm bells. “You didn’t John, I just I have a meeting early with Valentina’s people I just remembered. I’ll come find you in the morning after, ok?” “Ok” he said after a moment but you could tell he didn’t believe you. He took a step forward like he was going to try to kiss you but you stepped around him, using the excuse of plucking your shirt off the foot of the bed. “See you later Walker” you told him before damn near running out of his room. 

Part 2

@lilrainbowcloud

@desimarie12

[wildflowersandvibranium]

Muscle Memory : Chapter Seven

Pairing: CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS Restaurant Owner Bucky Barnes x Cardiac Surgeon Female Reader Alternate Universe

Summary: In a town that never forgets , she thought she could hide the bruises behind a perfect smile and life. But someone from her past sees too much—and remembers everything. sorry its so vague just don't want to give too much away!

Word Count: 2.8k+

Chapter Warnings: Domestic abuse themes , implied self harm and treatment of injuries , emotional breakdown (reader) , toxic relationship dynamics themes , references to past trauma/PTSD , alcohol consumption , blood / minor medical injury detail

A/N: hey babes... grab a drink , a snack maybe a fluffy blanket and buckle up buttercups! xo - flower 🌷

Series Masterlist

<- previous chapter - next chapter ->

Wanda Maximoff’s living room looked like a bridal wedding dream magazine exploded and puked all over, then was lovingly reconstructed by a perfectionist with a glue gun and an eye for sparkle and elegance.

 Bolts and yards of fabric—ivory silks , delicate lace , soft rose tulle , hung from windows and draped over chairs , trailing like flower petals down to the plush rug covered floors. 

Every available surface held something related to the big day: velvet boxes of pearl-tipped hairpins , bubbling champagne flutes perched on bell-shaped coasters that read "Mr. & Mrs." in precise cursive , and carefully labeled trays of bridal and bridesmaid jewelry sparkling under the sunlight spilling through her tall French styled windows.

The whole place looked sacred , and yet , lived in—like a church that had hosted one too many wedding banquets and rehearsals. 

It was messy in the most intentional way—every detail dripping in love , chaos , and beauty with Wanda’s meticulous attention to the smallest detail.

Finger foods were arranged artfully on marble and wooden boards throughout the space , though barely anyone had touched them. 

After all, it was hard to be enthusiastic about shrimp cocktails and fresh tomato cucumber bites when you were being cinched and stitched into the finest formalwear. 

Still, the scent of fresh mint , citrus, and honey from one of the carefully curated tea blends floated lazily in the air a sweet aromatic soothing balm.

Y/N stood off to the side of the group , arms tightly folded across her chest and front. 

Her eyes were fixed on the intricate beadwork lining the sparkly bodice of her bridesmaid dress , a soft lilac gown with ripple-like layers pooling at and past her feet.

 It was pretty , elegant even. But she didn’t feel all that beautiful. 

She didn’t feel much of anything—except frayed. Tired. 

Like the day had taken too much before it even began.

This was the first full fitting for Wanda’s entire bridal party. 

A day meant to be lighthearted , indulgent , champagne-fueled and framed with compliments and laughter. 

Stray happy tears were expected and ready with waterproof makeup and tissues.

But so far Y/N hadn’t smiled once since arriving to the home.

She shifted from one foot to the other mindlessly as the tailor took Wanda’s waist measurements once again , her heels pinching with every twist and movement. 

Her dress felt like it was clinging a little too tightly to her skin and body , the satin rubbing against her ribs and sternum. 

Maybe it was the fabric. Maybe it was the memories.

The room quieted when Wanda stepped into the groups view from the long hallway.

Her gown was beyond stunning. White satin with layered lace trimming , sweetheart neckline , long sleeves with small snap pearl buttons , and a veil that looked like it belonged in an art gallery like the MET. 

She twirled once , her laugh soft and breathy as the veil caught under a gleaming sunbeam.

“Oh my god,” Inaya gasped , hand over her heart tears springing in her eyes immediately. “Wanda… you look like you just stepped out of a fairytale novel.”

“She is the fairytale bride…wow,” Laura added , dabbing her eyes with a soft tissue. 

Nat elbowed her teasingly, rubbing her arms soothingly and nodded in agreement playfully whistling.

Wanda giggled , doing another spin and adjusting the veil as Darcy fumbled for her phone to snap a thousands more pictures. "Okay, okay! No more spinning—I’m getting dizzy!" she laughed , camera shuttering a million times a minute.

Then Wanda’s  eyes landed on Y/N.

“Well?” Wanda asked , voice lilting. “You gonna say something or am I gonna need to fish for compliments from Vision when he gets home?” she teased.

Y/N straightened slightly , forcing a smile at her gorgeous friend. "You look beautiful , Wands. Really. It’s… it’s perfect."

Wanda’s expression softened—but not with pride or swell from the words. She was distracted as her gaze dipped to Y/N’s hands wringing and picking at her own palms.

The diamond bracelet hung on her wrist had shifted under the sunlight , revealing angry scabs and small bruises along her knuckles and palms. 

Raw red lines , scraggly and angry. 

The kind of wounds that weren’t caused by mishap and tiny kitchen accidents.

Wanda’s brows drew in focused then eyes flipping to look in Y/N’s. “What happened to your hands?”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she quickly pulled her hands behind her back , too fast too guilty. “Oh—it's um..nothing. I dropped a glass bowl at home. Shards of glass went everywhere. Just dumb , i tried to pick them up but you know.”

Wanda didn’t believe her. It was clear in her eyes. 

“Be careful with those surgeon hands , darling,” Wanda said lightly. “I may feel like falling apart with stress , but I need all my girls intact.”

Y/N nodded too fast smiling. "Promise. I'm okay."

The large front doors creaked wide open. 

Bucky stepped carefuly inside , navy henley snug across his broad chest and sleeves pushed to his elbows. 

He carried his grey suit bag in one hand and a bottle of sparkling seltzer water in the other.

His eyes scanned the room like clockwork , and when they landed on Y/N, it was like gravity settled him. He smiled big, easing with her presence.

She felt it. But she didn’t look up.

Instead , she moved quickly , closer to Darcy , adjusting a strap that didn’t need adjusting , ducking her head as if Darcy had asked for help.

Just pretending to be busy finding any excuse.

Bucky gave a nod to Wanda , offered a quiet compliment on the gown she was swaying in , and handed his suit to the tailor telling them what needed adjusting. 

But his eyes , always  and continued to flick back to her.

After a few shrugs on confusion and interesting gazes.

The fitting continued on.

Wanda twirled again for the girls and now bucky waiting for the other groomsmen to join . As they did, jokes flew by. Someone tripped over their hem and blamed the champagne bubbling in their system causing a roar of laughs. 

The laughter bounced off the walls of the vaulted ceilings. Then it was group pictures time , some were posed,  some chaotic and silly others serious with their sunday best smiles. 

Someone started a game of "who knows the bride best" with absurd trivia questions Wanda made up on the spot , and the room lit with laughter.

Y/N laughed when she had to , when it felt a little safe to. Spoke only when directly addressed or asked something specific. 

Her smile looked perfect in the mirror , but only to people who didn’t know her.

Bucky sat in an armchair to the side of the room as the tailor pinned and marked the seam of his jacket sleeves.

 He didn’t try to make conversation with anyone else while there. Just watched her , his brow tight with something unreadable as he tried to read her.

Wanda stood infront of the seamstress when she was done with Bucky , with arms stretched pointing , letting the tailor fuss with the caught and stuck zipper.

Moving out of the way Bucky stepped closer to Y/N.

“You’re gonna make the dress look bad with all that tension you have in your shoulders , doll ,” he murmured only so she could hear.

“I’m fine.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t.”

She didn’t look up. Just smoothed invisible creases from her skirt down. 

Shrugging away his words.

It stung more than he admitted to.

Later , when everyone gathered for a massive group selfie in the large standing mirror , Y/N slipped into the back of the smiley group , away from the front. 

Bucky found her after looking at all the pics everyone took ,  perched on a nearby sofa , chewing her lip absentmindedly , eyes distant and shallow.

“Hey…” he began gently , sitting on the armrest of the couch. “You know this is all reminding me of …remember that time senior year , when we helped Wanda sneak into that vintage dress shop in Brooklyn and she tripped into the mannequin and then—”

“I think we’ve had enough stories for one day,” she cut in sharply, stopping his words.

Her voice wasn’t angry.

It was wounded.

That hurt worse than if she had yelled at him.

She stood up , brushing past his shoulder with hers passing him, muttering something about the bathroom. 

He didn’t follow, just watched her walk away.

Eventually , the fittings were done. 

Dresses bagged , pinned and labeled. Suits zipped up  into garment sleeves and matching shoe bags attached. 

Wanda was glowing brightly as she hugged each bridesmaid and groomsmen goodbye. 

She mouthed a quick "thank you" as she took a call from Vision , disappearing into the grand upstairs.

Most of the others had already gone and dispersed by then.

Only Y/N and Bucky remained alone in their thick silence.

They stood on the front steps of the porch , near the many fountains Wanda loved and adorned across the property , under the muted glow of late afternoon. 

The clouds were rolling in slowly , painting everything soft dull and gray.

Y/N dug through her coat pockets searching for her keys. Bucky watched and decided it was time he spoke up , he took a breath.

“Hey.”

She didn’t look at him just kept her head low and focused on finding her keys..

“Can we talk?”

She got the keys out and tugged on her sleeves fixing her coat , tensing at his question but still ignoring him.

“Y/N.”

She finally turned looking up at him, gritting her teeth. “What?”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You have been all day.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to be around or talk to you , Bucky. Did that ever occur to you that might be what I want?”

His shoulders dropped slightly at her confession. “No. Because that’s not how we do things doll. Talk to me. Please.” His voice cracked slightly at the last word.

Her voice broke as tears flowed from her cheeks she didn't even realize where building. “You wanna talk? Fine.”

She stared at him , eyes glassy now with something brittle and sharp. “I don’t love you anymore , Bucky.”

The air shifted and the wind howled.

“I love him , I love Tyler ,” she snapped , louder now , voice shaking but not yelling. 

“You don’t get to come back here with your soft voice and your sad puppy dog eyes charm and make me forget what he’s done for me. What he’s been for me.”

He opened his mouth , but no words came.

“You didn't even have to say anything,” she continued. “You just stand there and make me want things I’m not allowed to want or have. You make me feel like maybe I didn’t mess up everything. And I did. I messed up everything.”

“You didn’t,” he said , finally , quietly stepping forward to her.

“You think I forgot what it’s like to need someone who doesn’t need me back?” she hissed , stepping backward from him. “Do you think I haven’t been enough for people before? Don’t you dare do this to me again.”

He reached for her hand as she went to walk past him.

She recoiled fast, twisting her body , wincing , but not fast enough.

Their fingers brushed and hands collided. 

And when she pulled away , the pain was felt and spread across her hand immediate.

A smear of red appeared on his hand.

Blood.

Her blood.

He stared down at it , unmoving mouth agape. A healing wound torn open by the gentlest touch he gave.

She didn’t look back as she descended down the steps holding her hurting hand close.

Her coat flared behind her like wings made of burned paper. Fragile. Ruined.

She got into her car. Sat there for a moment letting the tears just flow then she shook her head refusing to feel this way and turned the key in the ignition and drove off hastily.

Left on the porch steps Bucky stood in the entryway just staring at his hand.

The crimson blood was already drying down; it was just a speck, just a small dot.

But it felt enormous.

He didn’t feel it on his skin.

He felt it in his chest.

And no amount of scrubbing would make it disappear.

Y/N’s house was cold when she stepped inside. Not in temperature , but in spirit. Quiet. Still. Like the walls were holding their breath waiting for her next move.

She closed the front door behind her and leaned against it , pressing her forehead to the wood for a long moment before finally locking it shut. 

Her coat slid off her shoulders piling onto the floor, forgotten. 

The silence wrapped around her tighter than the corset bodice she’d worn all day had.

She didn’t even bother turning on the lights. Instead , she walked through the living room with practiced steps , through the hallway and into the bathroom, flicking on the dim vanity lights only. 

Her reflection stared back at her, pale and wilted , lips raw from being chewed on. Hair messy from the wind. Eyes rimmed with the redness from her many tears.

But it wasn’t her face that caught her attention this time.

It was the blood staring back at her.

Her palm pulsed , sharp and hot. 

She turned her hand over and saw it clearly now—a stitch had popped wide open , thankfully just one but still needing attention. 

The scab that had tried to form when healing was gone , replaced with the angry red of reopened raw skin.

Blood had smeared onto her fingers and dried there.

She hissed quietly as she moved it, turning her hand over.

Tears pricked the backs of her eyes , but she blinked them back and opened the drawer beneath the sink , pulling out the white first aid kit she kept stocked for emergencies or now after Tyler has had his way with her body like it was a sand bag. 

She’d learned long ago during her days at the hands of her father to keep one always hidden and on hand. When she was younger she ended up keeping a spare one at the Barnes too  , when she would run hers down to just simple bandaids that weren't ever enough. 

She flipped down the lid and sat on the toilet , popping open the plastic case.

Alcohol. Gauze. Steri-strips. A needle and thread for emergency sutures—ones she was very used to not just on her patients but also used more than once on herself. 

She sterilized everything carefully , the cotton ball soaked in alcohol stinging as it met the raw edge of her skin making her muffle her hiss by biting on a towel.

She worked in precion and silence , threading the needle with shaking trembling hurting fingers. Each time it punctured her skin , she grit her teeth and breathed through her nose , refusing to cry out refusing help.

One stitch. Then another. Then a third to secure it from reopening and causing more damage. 

Like muscle memory for her.

By the last tie off stitch , her eyes blurred , but not from pain.

It was Bucky’s face she saw.

The way he looked at her—not like she was broken. Not like she was fragile. But like she was real. Like she was remembered. Like she was still someone.

Even in her lowest moment spewing hurtful nonsense , and breaking down right in front of him. 

He still looked at her like she was something more.

She hated it.

She hated that he still saw her.

She hated that she’d told him she didn’t love him.

She hated that some part of her had meant it. Or wanted to. Needed to believe it.

“I don’t love you anymore.” She whispered the words again aloud , just to test them in the air of her own home.

They didn’t sound real.

They didn’t sound like her.

Like them.

She tugged the end of the stitch and snipped it clean with scissors. Wrapped her hand in gauze and taped it up tight.

Then she stood slowly on wobbling legs , walked back to the sink , and stared at herself once again.

This time she dared to look longer. Past the blood. Past the bruises.

She looked for the girl she used to be.

But she wasn’t there.

Only to be met with the echo of her.

And she had just ruined the one thing that kept the only tether of possibility that , that girl still was in her-

How Bucky sees her.

-end

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[tsiftor]

Thinking about cumplane... scumcumplane...?

The peak lords (sy!sqq and sqh) going on a trip or mission. On that journey, they are met with a plant that entrapped people into tripping over vine-like tentacles, and into their mouth. Their head is shapped like a Venus fly trap—it is constantly open flat on the ground unless it was processing its meal—camouflaged by the greenery that surrounds it.

Sqq was able to notice the plant before anyone got tripped into its jaw simply because he smelled cup ramen. (Something that doesn't exist in ancient China or PIDW.) The plant entices people/animals by letting off a scent that people yearn, whether its perfume or food. If it is inhaled a lot, it can even cause hallucinations and/or paralysis.

Sqh just forgot that he even created the plant for some random, forgotten wife that was devoured by said plant, and lost their qi to papapa with lbh. (Fortunately, in some sense, it was a consented papapa as the random, forgotten wife was lured into the plant's jaw because she was hallucinating lbh after smelling "lbh's" scent for way too long.) It wasn't until sqh literally saw sqq getting his leg devoured did it instantaneously come to mind.

Had sqq, been a second late from jumping away, he would've been completely devoured. However, just one leg was enough for the venus trap to quickly devour sqq's qi. He groans in pain, as the hairs on the plant pierced into his leg.

In the same instant, the vine-like tentacles had yanked sqh up into the air, leaving him hanging upside down. It was probably its next meal after it was done with sqq. Sqh cuts off the entangling vines, sliding down the same vines he had cut before he rolls onto the floor, and lands on one knee acting like some super hero. Practically scoffing proudly because heh, wasn't that so cool of him? (Not the right time to be joking, though!) As sqh gets slammed to the side by another vine. Sqq had laughed at sqh because of how ridiculously stupid this whole situation was, and as a coping mechanism.

The fool coughs, like shit. The attack had knocked the wind out of his lungs. He hackles and wheezes, inhaling the plant's scent way more than necessary. He was lying prone on the leaves that had helped camouflaged the venus trap. It is especially coated with honey-like substance that acts like a sticky trap for insects or mices. He's stuck against the leaf. He covers his mouth with the end of his robe sleeves. Not that it's of any help because of the hallucination/paralysis-inducing trap. Suddenly, he remembered another key point of the venus trap.

His head swung up, eyes widened as he watches the very moment sqq had lost consciousness. "Fuck, Cucumber-bro!" He hissed underneath his breath.

"Wake up...!" He shouts, coughing. "Wake up!" He shouts again, with more urgency. His face twisted in anguish and pain as he couldn't move, he could only watch helplessly as the jaws of the venus trap released sqq's leg, and vines wiggled around sqq's limbs. (It was acting like some tentacle hentai...) That's not the key point, the key point is that the vines have this ability—oh. It needn't be elaborated as sqh gets a first class view of what exactly the vines do.

Sqq echoed...? It was like watching a rock plop into water, causing the surface of the water to riddle wavy lines. It was like watching a player lag back and forth. Sqq's soul—or rather sy's soul—had been ripped away from sqq's body. The vines that had previously been entangling sqq's body dropped him, and was now entangling sy's soul.

"Wake up before your soul gets taken away, Shen Qingqiu!" Unable to move a limb, sqh shouts, screams, and cuss to no avail. He's unable to strip the robes away as the he is being held down by vines. This is not the type of shitty porno he wrote! Hell, why did he just now realize that he doesn't know sy's real name aside from Peerless Cucumber?

And just seconds before the venus trap had open its jaws to chomp sy's soul entirely, the vines were cut into multiple pieces. Its jaw completely cut in half. Green robes fluttered, grabbing ahold of the soul before landing on their one good leg.

Sy's soul glitched like some broken TV frizzing with rgb colors. It cackles as if a fuzz had popped. The soul had previously been a cyan green color. It is now that of a normal human. Their hair is no longer long or ebony, its more slightly gray. Their skin blushed red, they huffed a fever. Their long lashes contorted into their scrunched face, they kind of look adorable... Hell, who the hell is that? It doesn't look like sqq at all, which makes sense as the one that had been occupying sqq this whole time wasn't sqq.

But then, who the hell is actually occupying sqq now...? Of course, who else but the original goods? The original sqq has sy in his arms, looking down at him as if he was looking at some bug. At any moment, he looked like he'll drop sy into the hole where the venus trap had once been hiding in. However, that never comes. He merely stares at sy, looking rather displeased.

With the venus trap dead, the honey-like substance that had once entrapped sqh prone to the leaf had lost its effect. Its unknown how it works, really. May hap it was the results of qi-depletion. Whatever, the details of how the plant works are not that important.

Sqh runs to sqq? Sy? With whatever adrenaline helping him. He looks up at sqq and down at sy before he just hugs the both of them. "Thank you. Oh my fucking god. Thank you, thank you for being alive." It's unknown who exactly he's saying that to...

And then, I never got past this idea! Lmao, it simply loops in my brain, never continuing

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 8

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Feels like a lifetime since we've heard from these two jokers XD

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: Mild Alien spoilers, Swearing, Drinking, IT'S A SLOW BURN BUT IT SIZZLES

WC: 3000+

Part 1 | Masterlist

“C’mere, I wanna show you something.” Jake waves you over from the couch while Bradley searches for microwaveable popcorn in the pantry.

You approach Jake and he pats the spot beside him, his phone in his hand and a huge grin on his face. You take a seat beside him and he holds his phone out so that you can see the screen.

“Watch this,” he says, scrolling up to a video compilation of cat fails.

“Oh my god, not again,” you groan, rolling your eyes.

“No, it’s a good one!” he exclaims excitedly, moving closer to ensure you’re not missing any of the action.

You chuckle when yet another cat flips out at the sight of a cucumber and shake your head. “This is ridiculous.”

“Hang on, I’ve got another one,” he says.

By the time Bradley enters the living room with a bowl of popcorn, you and Jake are dying of laughter on the couch. Bradley grimaces. “You guys are so weird.”

“No, Bradley, you have to see this!” you say, snatching Jake’s phone out of his hand and holding it out to your brother as he sets the bowl down on the coffee table.

Bradley watches the video patiently – albeit with a cringe – and then sighs. “I don’t get it,” he says.

“What’s to get?” Jake cries out as though Bradley has personally offended him.

Bradley gives him an amused look. “Can we watch the movie now?” he asks.

Jake glances over at you sourly. “How does one ‘not get’ cat videos?”

Bradley snorts, planting himself on the other end of the couch. Jake leans over you to reach for the popcorn.

“What are we watching?” you say, trying to ignore the cologne that wafts your way as Jake moves in closer.

“Alien,” Bradley replies with a grin.

You grimace. “I did not consent to this.”

Jake chuckles. “We did not consult with you for a reason.”

You roll your eyes. “Next pick is mine,” you say.

“Deal,” Bradley agrees, hitting Play.

You lean your back into the cushions, mentally preparing yourself for the jump scares, and pull your knees up to your chin, wrapping your arms around your legs. Jake nudges you with his shoulder while the opening credits roll. “You’ll be fine,” he says.

You give him a sour look. “Isn’t that what you said about the haunted house last week?”

His lips spread into a sheepish smirk. “And you lived to tell the tale, didn’t you?”

You turn away to face the television. “Just barely.”

He laughs.

“You two better shut up,” Bradley says just as a spaceship comes into view.

“Nothing’s even happening,” you say.

Bradley gapes at you. “Don’t you dare talk shit about this movie,” he says ominously.

You scoff, gesturing at the screen with your entire arm. “Are you worried you’re going to miss the score?”

Jake glances over at you with a grin. “You’re just looking to make enemies tonight.”

…

It takes some time for you to relax into a comfortable sitting position in between your brother and his best friend. The suspense of the film is making you drive your back further into the couch and your tense muscles are beginning to ache.

When you place your hand too close to Jake’s on the cushion, you jerk it away immediately, without even looking at him. But a few moments later, you feel the brush of his knuckle against your pinky finger. You keep your hand still this time, wondering if he’s touched you on purpose. You’re so focused on the contact that you’re barely registering what’s happening onscreen. You don’t even flinch when Kane is suddenly attacked by a slimy facehugger. Bradley, on the other hand, jumps a foot off the couch and yelps with excitement.

“You’ve seen this before, right?” you say, eyeing your brother with a small smirk.

He responds by tossing a handful of popcorn at you while Jake chuckles quietly to your right. When Bradley returns his attention to the screen, Jake grazes a couple of fingers over your hand and your heart leaps into your throat.

Jake Seresin is stroking your hand.

Well, at the very least he stroked it once, very lightly, almost imperceptibly, as though trying to determine if you might mind. But it was done with intention, of that you are certain. So, you move your fingers slightly, responding to his touch, but you don’t dare look in his direction.

Satisfied that you’re a willing participant, Jake slowly slides his hand over yours, and you suppress a shiver from the series of electric shocks that set your nerve-endings ablaze. His fingers slip between yours and his thumb skims the side of your hand, softly at first, tentatively. But as your hand reacts to his touch, lifting slightly off the couch, his thumb moves more confidently, his fingers drifting across your palm before he takes your hand in his. Meanwhile, you nearly pass out from the obscene pleasure this brings.

You have absolutely no idea what’s happening in the movie and you sincerely hope that Bradley doesn’t feel like discussing it in detail once it’s over.

“Fuck!” Bradley exclaims suddenly, making you jolt and pull your hand out of Jake’s grasp and into your lap. “We’re out of popcorn,” he says, getting up from the couch. He flicks the lights on on his way back into the kitchen.

You gulp uneasily, staring at the paused frame on the screen. You’re not sure if Jake is looking at you, but you’re too chickenshit to check. And then your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

You leave the room to answer it, because it’s the cute guy from your Intro to Psych course that asked for your number the previous week, and you really don’t want to be talking to him in the presence of the cute guy that’s been holding your hand on the couch for the better part of the evening.

When you return, Bradley’s back in the living room. As soon as you enter, he asks, “Who was that?”

“Mind your own business,” you respond and Bradley shakes his head, smirking.

Meanwhile, Jake is fiddling with a loose thread on the couch, completely ignoring you.

You lower yourself back onto the couch and say, “If you must know, it’s a friend from school. He’s putting together a study group and asked if I wanted to join.”

Jake looks up at you sharply. “Does that group consist of more than two people?” he asks pointedly.

You give him a flat look. “Does that matter?” you say, mildly annoyed at his insinuation.

“Basically, it’s a date,” Jake says, visibly displeased.

You roll your eyes. “He wants to study.”

Bradley snorts. “Yeah, right. Like I used to study with Martha, right Jake?”

Jake looks like he might throw up.

Bradley settles in his seat and says, “We finishing this movie or what?”

Jake rises from the couch. “I’ve uh, got an early morning,” he says.

Bradley lifts an eyebrow. “Dude, we’re literally going to the same place at the same time.”

Jake sighs impatiently. “And it’s early, is it not?”

Bradley looks down at the fresh bowl of popcorn in his lap with a scowl. “You could’ve said something sooner.”

“Sorry, bro,” Jake says. He turns to nod at you. “See ya, Baby B.”

You want to talk to him – you need to talk to him. He was literally holding your hand not five minutes ago. The Jake Seresin – the guy you’ve been crushing on since forever – your brother’s best friend – the dude who’s been with every female within a ten-mile radius – has suddenly shown interest in you. You cringe to yourself; perhaps he’s exhausted all other options. This unsettling thought nestles into your brain just as Jake starts for the door and you decide that, perhaps, you shouldn’t talk about it at all. Jake is, without a doubt, the opposite of boyfriend material. And, as much as you would love to finally have him, being just another notch on his belt would only bring you misery – and destroy your friendship.

So, you glance over at your brother with a sigh and say, “I’ll finish the movie with you, bro.”

Bradley grins widely and reaches for the remote.

…

The following evening is a Friday and Bradley insists on dragging you and Jake out to the club so that he could meet up with a new friend. You don’t mind dancing, but you do mind the obvious rift between you and Jake after the events of the previous evening.

Jake keeps about three feet of distance between the two of you at all times, and barely speaks a word to you directly. When Bradley goes off with his girl, you and Jake remain awkwardly in place, not even remotely moving to the blaring music.

“Drink?” he finally says, glancing up at you warily.

You shrug. “Why not?”

He leads the way to the bar through the crowded club, only occasionally looking over his shoulder to check that you’re still behind him. You trail him grudgingly, not at all eager to spend the next several hours in silence while Jake works up the nerve to clear the air. Obviously, the hand-holding was a mistake; both of you are aware of that fact. And, clearly, if something as trivial as that is having an impact on your relationship, anything less tame is unequivocally out of the question.

You lean into the bar, waiting for one of the bartenders to take your order. You steal a glance at Jake, but he’s not looking at you at all. He nods at a female bartender, and she comes to your side of the bar immediately. You roll your eyes when he gives her a smile.

“Two tequila shots, please,” he says.

You grimace. “No, thank you,” you say, holding a hand to your stomach as you recall the night you nearly died.

Jake looks over at you curiously. “I thought we were drinking,” he says.

“I will never have tequila again as long as I live,” you respond.

Jake smirks slightly and turns back to the bartender. “Fine, one tequila and whatever the lady wants.”

The lady. You nearly choke on air. “Vodka, please,” you say to the bartender. “If we’re doing shots.”

“We’re doing shots,” Jake confirms, shooting the bartender a dazzling grin.

When she leaves, Jake turns to face you with a sheepish smirk. “We’re gonna get good and drunk, sugar.”

You give him a tight smile. “My favorite pastime,” you respond wryly.

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re such a dork.”

You gaze at him nonchalantly. “Takes one to know one,” you say matter-of-factly.

Jake laughs briefly and then glances over his shoulder, looking for the bartender. The short-lived momentum in your conversation has evidently come to grinding halt and the two of you are right back to an uncomfortable silence.

The drinks arrive shortly after and Jake hands you a shot. “Bottoms up, peach,” he says.

You bring the vodka to your lips and down the shot, hoping the alcohol might make the evening more bearable.

Jake eyes you carefully as you set down your empty glass. “One more?” he asks.

You glance at him uneasily. While getting hammered with Jake isn’t the worst way to spend a Friday night – in fact, it’s something you would have killed for a couple of months ago – you know that it’ll just end up perpetuating your ridiculous crush, no matter how much Jake seems to regret the events of the previous evening. “I think I’ll go dance,” you say, drifting away from the counter slowly.

Jake nods as you slip into the crowd. “Have fun!” he calls after you as you disappear amidst a sea of moving bodies.

You squeeze your way through the crowd toward the center of the club, where it’s most dense, and feel your tense muscles finally start to relax. You sway to the beat, moving your hips and lifting your arms as you lose yourself in song after song. You don’t need Jake to have fun, you’ve got guys making eyes at you from all directions.

You smile back at a particularly handsome one who catches your eye because his shirt is partially unbuttoned, and his chest is toned and glistening under the flashing lights. He approaches you confidently, showing off his dance moves as he nears. You laugh and bite your bottom lip, holding his gaze seductively. Jake has likely already found someone to take home with him, so why shouldn’t you let loose and have a good time?

Once he’s closer, you realize how tall he is, which only makes him hotter. You always loved that about Jake, too: that you have to stand on the tips of your toes just to hug him without smacking your face into his shoulder. You blink a couple of times, trying to rid your mind of Jake, who’s probably already making out in a cab back to his place.

The guy who’s dancing with you takes you by the waist, pulling you against his hips. You’re quite fond of his cheeky smile so you don’t resist. You can totally see Jake being this brazen with a random girl he meets at a club. For once, you get to be the girl – even if it isn’t with Jake.

You snake your hands behind his neck but, before your fingers meet, someone jumps out of the crowd shouting “HEY! HEY! HEY!” You try to figure out what’s happening in the darkness as an arm slides in between your bodies, prying you apart.

“Jake?” You blink, still trying to make him out in the swirling beams of light as he hooks his arm around your stomach and nearly lifts you off the ground to move you away.

You’re still in shock as he rounds on the guy who was dancing with you, towering over him somehow ever though they appear to be the same height. He’s yelling something indiscernible because the music is too loud for you to hear anyone not directly facing you, but, whatever it is, it’s enough to make your hot guy raise his arms in surprise and back away.

The crowd separates to accommodate the altercation but you don’t wait around to see how far Jake will go. As soon as you realize what’s happening, you jump forward to grab Jake’s arm and pull him away.

Jake resists at first but, when you drive both your hands into his abdomen and push, he submits, taking several steps back and letting your suitor escape into the crowd.

“What the actual fuck, Jake?” you shriek, giving him an extra shove.

The space around the two of you condenses as people start to fill in the gaps on the open floor, and the two of you end up being jostled a bit by the crowd. “He was touching you!” Jake yells as you’re thrown into his chest by an overly enthusiastic dancer behind you.

“So?” you yelp as Jake catches you before your face can crash into his solid chest.

“Inappropriately!” Jake clarifies in outrage.

You give him an astounded grimace. “I’m an adult, Jake!” you shout. “I happen to like being touched inappropriately.”

Jake stares at you in horror, his hands still firmly gripping your arms. The crowd continues to push and shove, swaying the two of you this way and that but mostly into each other.

You gulp anxiously as he continues to study you, an angry swarm of butterflies suddenly assailing your insides so mercilessly you can hardly feel your legs. Jake isn’t taking his eyes off you despite all the knocking around by the crowd, and you wish, in that moment, that you could read his mind, because you really can’t afford to misinterpret his actions.

Jake creases his eyebrows, as if, he too, is desperately trying to read you. Neither of you is dancing despite the driving beat of the music. If not for the occasional bump, you would be standing completely still.

Although you haven’t moved an inch and, presumably, neither has Jake, you feel as though you’ve gradually been getting closer. Slowly, Jake’s hold on your arms relaxes and his hands drift upward to your shoulders.

Your chest feels absolutely weightless as you draw in breath after breath, as Jake’s fingertips trail slowly up the sides of your neck, as you lift your face closer and closer to his. You stare at him mutely as his hands drift up to cradle your face, and fight to keep from gasping as his thumbs slide slowly across your cheeks.

You feel a soft tug as he pulls you in and you stretch your neck out to reach him at the same time as he stoops lower to meet you in the middle. And you’re about to have the most exquisite kiss of your life when someone blows into you from the side, nearly knocking you right off your already wobbly legs.

Jake’s reaction speed is about fifteen times faster than yours and he’s able to catch you before you faceplant onto the sticky club floor.

“You okay?” he asks in alarm as you groan, still doubled over from the impact.

As soon as you straighten your back and give Jake a weak smile, you see your brother appear over Jake’s shoulder.

“There you guys are!” Bradley exclaims, patting Jake on the back. “Having a good time?”

Jake looks over at Bradley with an uneasy expression, his hands promptly dropping from your shoulders. “We’re having a blast,” he replies loudly, over the blaring music.

Bradley holds up both of his thumbs. “Excellent! Ready to head out?”

Jake glances at you briefly and then nods at Bradley. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Bradley eyes you suspiciously. “You good?”

You blink between him and Jake and then shrug with a tight smile. “Great,” you say. “Lead the way.”

Once Bradley walks ahead, you glance nervously at Jake. He’s watching you grimly, clearly unhappy about something. He shuts his eyes tightly and rubs at them vigorously with his thumb and index finger. Finally, he looks back at you apologetically and nods toward the exit. “Let’s go,” is all he says.

You don’t bother arguing and start after your brother with Jake on your heels. The moment you step outside, he’s back to standing three feet away.

Read Part 9

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[falestales]

“SEX FOR RELIEF”

- SMUT: threesum, rough, dirty talk, size kink, mention of the term “balls,” oral sex, dom billie, short chapter.

-ʙɪʟʟɪᴇ ɢ!ᴘ - ɪɴᴛᴇʀꜱᴇx ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ˙⋆✮

—

cleo moved around quietly, her satin robe trailing at her ankles as she tucked the last pillow into place. the room already looked perfect, but she liked it that way—neat and peaceful.

she lit a small lavender candle on the coffee table, watching the flame flicker to life before leaning back and taking in the view with a satisfied breath.

behind her, there was a faint creak as the bathroom door opened. eileen, her second wife stepped out, towel-dried hair falling in soft around her shoulders, her skin still warm and from the bath. she looked comfortable, wrapped in a silky, dark purple night gown, barefoot as she padded into the living room.

cleo turned, her expression softening. “how was your bath?” she asked, voice light and comforting.

eileen gave a small smile, tugging a hand through her damp hair. “exactly what i needed,” she said, glancing at the candle. “smells good in here.”

cleo nodded, then added, “billie should be home soon.”

that made eileen’s smile grow a little more. the both of them always seemed to breathe easier when billie walked through the door.

it wasn’t something they talked about much—but it was there. billie was the last piece of the puzzle that made home feel real.

it hadn’t always been the three of them.

cleo and billie were married first. they met years ago—cleo had been bartending part-time, billie was fresh out of grad school, full of grit and late-night opinions. it was fire from the beginning.

they met eileen in a gallery downtown. she was working full-time, guiding guests through art. she’d said something quietly funny about a sculpture neither of them understood, and they both turned to look at her at the same time. it was slow after that. conversations turned into late dinners, late dinners turned into longer weekends,

and then one day, she just stayed. and it made sense. it was never forced. they were still themselves—just more complete.

cleo glanced toward the kitchen, her eyes flicking to the clock. “we should start dinner soon,” she said softly. “she’ll be starving.”

“what are we making?” eileen asked, already starting toward the kitchen.

“chili shrimp with rice,” cleo said, following behind her. “and that cucumber salad she likes.”

eileen pulled open the fridge, beginning to gather ingredients, her fingers brushing cool produce as she worked. the kitchen lights were warm above her. she was just reaching for the garlic when the sound hit—keys at the front door. then the slow click of the lock, and the low creak as the door swung open.

they both froze for half a second. billie. her presence was always unmistakable. the door closed with a firm thud, and a moment later, the sound of her coat being shrugged off, followed by the sharp sounds of heels against the floor.

there was something different in the way she moved—heavier, like the day had stuck to her skin. cleo stepped into the hallway. “hey, baby,” she called gently.

“hey,” billie replied, voice a little low, a little flat. they watched as she passed through, her hair slightly wind-tousled, her expression unreadable. she didn’t stop to kiss either of them, just kept walking, heading down the hall toward the bedroom. the door clicked shut behind her.

eileen glanced over at cleo, one eyebrow lifted.

cleo sighed, arms folding across her waist as she leaned against the doorway. “she probably had a rough day,” she said softly, biting her lip. “i feel bad. she works so hard.”

eileen nodded, her voice quieter now. “i know. she gets that look when something’s been down at her. i just wish she’d let us help with it more.”

cleo looked at her for a long second before walking over, touching her hand gently. “we will.” eileen gave a small nod, then turned back to the stove.

from the kitchen, they could hear it—faint, but enough.

a low muttering. the sound of something shifting. maybe her belt unbuckling, or a drawer sliding shut a little harder than usual.

cleo froze, hand resting lightly on the edge of the counter. her eyes flicked toward the hallway, toward the closed bedroom door.

“she’s talking to herself,” eileen whispered, barely above a breath.

cleo nodded slowly, then looked over at her, her expression softening. “come on,” she said gently, brushing a hand down eileen’s arm. “let’s check on her.”

eileen hesitated, glancing toward the ingredients she pulled out, then she followed cleo, their bare feet quiet on the floor as they padded down the hall.

cleo reached the door first, pausing before pressing her hand against it. her voice dropped to something soothing. “bill?”

no answer.

she turned the knob slowly, the door creaking just a little as it opened.

inside, the room was dim, the pink dusk coming through the curtains. billie stood by the dresser, still in her charcoal trousers but now in a worn black tank top, her back slightly hunched as she rubbed her temple with the heel of her hand. her braid was starting to come undone, dark strands slipping loose.

cleo stepped inside first. “hey,” she said softly.

billie didn’t look over. “it’s nothing,” she muttered. “just… everything at that job. it’s like… they don’t even know what they want. every time i finish something, they add five more things. then my manager decides it’s all wrong. i just need—” she paused, breathing out hard. “i need some kind of relief. something that makes sense.”

her voice had an edge to it. sharp. tired. like she was holding something heavier than just frustration.

cleo’s gaze flicked over to eileen, who was standing just inside the doorway now, fingers fidgeting slightly.

cleo stepped back, leaned close to her ear, and gently ran her hand along eileen’s shoulder.

“get on the bed,” she whispered softly, her lips brushing the side of her hair. “just follow me, okay?”

eileen gave the smallest nod, then moved quietly across the room, climbing onto the bed without a word. the mattress shifted beneath her as she sat down. cleo reached out to touch billie’s back, letting her fingers rest lightly between her shoulder blades for a moment.

“i’m sorry work’s been shit,” she murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to billie’s cheek. it lingered there—just enough to tell her they were here, and not going anywhere.

cleo climbed up with eileen, the bed dipping again as she settled beside eileen, her robe slipping off one shoulder. they both looked at billie now.

billie hadn’t moved at first. she was still standing there, one hand on the dresser, the other hanging loose at her side. but she’d felt the kiss. heard the stillness in the room behind her. she turned around slowly, eyes catching the low light.

billie stayed by the dresser, her hand still resting against the wood, fingers unmoving.

she watched as cleo shifted on the bed, her legs folding beneath her as she turned more toward eileen.

cleo reached up gently, tucking a bit of hair behind eileen's ear before lifting her chin with slow fingers. eileen's eyes flicked up to hers, searching, already caught in something. her lips parted just slightly, breath softening as she glanced—without even meaning to, down at cleo's mouth.

cleo leaned in.

the kiss came, but deep, cleo's lips moving as she brought eileen in closer, her other hand sliding to cradle the side of her face. eileen let out the faintest hum, her shoulders sinking, body giving way into cleo's touch.

from where she stood, billie didn't say a word.

her blue eyes followed every detail—the press of cleo's palm against eileen's cheek, the way cleo's thumb gently moved along her jaw, the sigh that slipped from eileen's lips as she melted a little more.

cleo's hand wandered down, smooth and knowing, gliding over the soft fabric of eileen's silky nightgown. her fingers traced the curve of her waist, then lower, ghosting along the top of her thigh through the fabric. it was slow.

billie's breath caught slightly. her shoulders were still tense, but something was unraveling inside her, too. her tired mind pausing, giving in to the pull of what was in front of her.

cleo pulled back from the kiss just enough to speak, her voice low, nearly a breath.

"keep your eyes on billie," she whispered against eileen's lips.

eileen's eyes fluttered open, cheeks flushed, her gaze drawn immediately across the room—right to her.

and cleo, already leaning down again, began to kiss slowly along her neck, lips brushing her skin, breath warm, as eileen tilted her head to the side and kept her eyes on billie.

cleo’s mouth moved along eileen’s neck, slow at first, then deeper, lips dragging before she bit—just enough to make eileen’s breath catch. eileen’s lips parted, her mouth opening slightly, eyes still locked on billie from across the room.

cleo didn’t stop—her hand kept moving over eileen’s body, smoothing down the silk fabric of her nightgown, fingers brushing across her stomach, her hip, before sliding the fabric up just some, revealing the soft curve of eileen’s thigh.

from the dresser, billie’s jaw tightened.

her nostrils flared, chest rising slow, as her eyes followed every movement. her brow twitched slightly. she wasn’t moving, but her whole body seemed alert—pulled forward by the sight of them.

cleo glanced over her shoulder just enough to catch billie watching, then turned back to eileen with a soft hum. “look how she watches you,” cleo whispered, her voice soft but firm, warm against eileen’s ear. “she’s loves it.”

eileen’s breath hitched, and her eyes fluttered halfway closed, overwhelmed by the warmth, but she fought to open them again—just barely.

“keep them open,” cleo murmured.

eileen tilted her head back slightly, almost losing herself in the moment, until cleo caught her chin gently, but firmly, turning her face forward again. “eyes on her,” cleo said, fingers gripping her jaw as she brought eileen’s gaze right back to billie.

that did something.

billie’s mouth parted slightly. her hand moved to the front of her trousers—undoing the top button with a slow press of her thumb, then sliding the zipper down halfway, not rushing. not stepping closer. just releasing tension.

but she didn’t say anything. didn’t move past the dresser. she was watching. and she liked this. a lot.

cleo lifts eileen’s nightgown all the way up, revealing more of eileen's body, the sight making billie's breath catch in her throat. eileen, comfortable and at home, hadn't bothered with underwear, her body bare and exposed.

as the nightgown is lifted higher, billie’s eyes roam over eileen's body, taking in the sight of her, the curves of her hips, the flat plane of her stomach, the soft mounds of her breasts. eileen moans softly, her body arching slightly.

cleo leans in, pulling the night gown from up top, her lips capturing one of eileen's nipples, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh, making eileen moan louder. her hand moves lower, tracing the lines of eileen’s body, her fingers brushing over eileen's pussy, the sensation making eileen gasp, her body arching off the bed, seeking more.

cleo looks up at eileen, her eyes locked onto hers, her voice a low, sultry whisper. "can i touch you?" she asks, her fingers poised at the entrance of eileen's pussy.

eileen nods, her voice barely a whisper. "yes," she breathes.

cleo's fingers too their time, before they slipped inside eileen, the feeling making them both moan, eileen's body clenching around cleo's fingers. across the room, billie's boxers are growing stiff, her body responding to the sight, her sex drive already heightened.

cleo calls out to billie, her voice a low, commanding tone. "billie, come here." billie, her body already responding to the sight and sounds walks over, her steps quick and eager, her eyes locked on the scene before her.

as billie approaches, cleo lifts the hand that was on eileen's pussy, her fingers glistening with eileen's juices. she brings her hand to billie's mouth, her fingers brushing against billie's lips, the sensation sending shivers down billie's spine.

billie opens her mouth, her tongue flicking out to taste eileen's essence, the flavor exploding on her tongue.

billie moans around cleo's fingers, the sound a low, guttural growl, her eyes locked onto eileen's. she continues to suck on cleo's fingers, her tongue swirling around them.

as pulls back, cleo leans in, her lips capturing billie's in a passionate kiss. their lips and tongues move together. eileen watches, her pussy clenching at the sight.

as they kiss, billie begins to slide her trousers off, the fabric whispering against her skin. she steps out of them, her bulge prominent in her boxers, billie growing with each second. cleo reaches down, her hand rubbing against billie's bulge, the sensation making billie groan into the kiss.

billie backs up slightly, breaking the kiss. she reaches for the hem of her undershirt, pulling it over her head, the fabric falling to the floor with a soft thud. she reaches behind her, unclasping her bra, the straps sliding down her arms, her breasts pale and perfect, her nipples hard and erect, the sight making eileen's mouth water.

eileen, feeling more turned on, begins to take off her nightgown, the silky fabric sliding over her skin. she pulls it over her head, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, her body bare and exposed.

billie reaches down, her hand wrapping around her own bulge, the touch making her moan. she slides her boxers down, her pretty dick springing free, thick, as it had a soft blush shade, her balls more of a billie moans around cleo's fingers, the sound a low, guttural growl, her eyes locked onto eileen's. as she pulls cleo's fingers from her mouth, a thin strand of saliva connects them, billie's cheeks are now rosy.

cleo reaches down, her hand rubbing against billie's bulge, the sensation making billie groan into the kiss, her body trembling with need, her pleasure building with each touch, each kiss, each exploration.

billie begins to stroke herself, her hand moving up and down her shaft, her balls shifting with the move, her voice, low yet feminine, "down. on your knees," she orders, her dominance coming out, her desire for control evident in her tone.

cleo, her body responding to billie's command, gets off the bed, her movements fluid and graceful. she drops to her knees on the floor.

cleo's hand wraps around billie's shaft, her fingers slick with pre-cum. she strokes billie slowly, her hand moving up and down, her grip firm. billie looks down at cleo, her eyes filled with lust.

cleo leans forward, her mouth opening wide, taking all of billie into her mouth. billie pushes cleo's head in more, her hands gripping cleo's hair, holding her in place as she fucks her mouth, her dick sliding in and out.

eileen watches, her pussy throbbing. the air hits her nipples, making her bite her lip, her body aching with need. cleo hallows her cheeks, taking billie in like a vacuum.

billie moans, her voice unsteady. "fuck, baby," she curses.

billie's balls hit cleo’s chin with each thrust. billie stops, her dick wet and shining with cleo’s saliva, the sight making her feel incredibly horny.

she pulls herself out of cleo’s mouth, her dick glistening with spit. with a swift movement, she slaps her dick against cleo's face, the sound echoing in the room.

"you look so good with my dick on your face," billie moans, her dominance evident in her tone.

she brings her dick back to cleo's mouth, cleo's lips wrapping around her shaft, her mouth stretching to accommodate billie's length and girth, her eyes watering slightly. billie keeps moaning, her plumped lips parted open, her body trembling.

cleo chokes slightly, her throat constricting around billie's shaft.

billie hums, the sound a low, guttural growl, her body trembling with pleasure, her tip hitting the flatness of eileen's tongue. "shit," billie whimpers. her moans beautiful and raw.

billie keeps hitting the side of cleo's cheek with her dick, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing in the room. she forces cleo's head to keep still, her hands gripping cleo's hair, holding her in place as she keep thrusting in her mouth.

with a moan, billie cums, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm, her dick pulsing, sending ropes of cum spraying into cleo's mouth. billie moans and whimpers, her body jolting.

she looks so sexy, her tits heaving with each breath, her hair falling in disarray around her face, her expressions a mix of pleasure and need.

billie huffs, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her dick still hard and stiff, sliding out of cleo's mouth. cleo stands up, her body pressing against billie's, her lips capturing billie's in a kiss. billie tastes herself on cleo's lips, the taste humming on her tongue.

cleo backs away slightly, her eyes locked onto billie's, she gets on the bed beside eileen, her body pressing against eileen's, her lips kissing eileen's.

billie gets on the bed, her body moving between eileen's legs, her eyes locked onto eileen’s. "you want this? you want me to fuck you?"

billie, her body responding to eileen's invitation, softly makes her way in between eileen's legs. "i'm going to make you feel so good, baby,” billie murmurs, her voice a low, sultry whisper.

eileen shifts on the bed, her body settling more comfortably against the pillow behind her. she opens her legs, revealing her wet, glistening area.

cleo leans in close to billie, her lips brushing against billie's ear. "look how sexy she is," she murmurs, her breath hot against billie's skin.

cleo's voice is a low, sultry purr. "look how bad she wants it," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of billie's jaw.

"look at her pussy, billie," she orders, billie looks, her eyes roaming over eileen's body, taking in the sight. "put it in her," she murmurs, "make make her yours."

billie positions herself between eileen's legs, her dick poised at the entrance of eileen.

billie slides herself in, the tip rounded and smooth, flushed pink, as she slides in, eileen's inner lips hold the tip in place, eileen was already moaning at just the feel of it.

cleo leans against a pillow, her body comfortable and relaxed, her eyes locked onto the scene before her, living for the sight of billie fucking other women, specifically eileen.

billie slips more of herself in, eileen's body stretching to accommodate her length and girth, eileen grips the sheets, her knuckles white. she widens her legs, feeling like a slut, her body open and inviting.

billie leans in, whisper against eileen's lips. "you can take it," she murmurs, knowing that eileen sometimes has a hard time taking all of her. eileen moaned in response.

as billie slides in more, eileen gasps, her pleasure building with each inch that billie slides in. cleo, her voice a low. "that's it. take it all in.” billie pulls back slightly, her eyes locked onto eileen's, “yes," she groans, her voice a mixture of a groan.

eileen wraps her legs around billie's hips, pulling her in closer. billie's breasts press against eileen's, the sensation of skin on skin sending waves through both of their bodies.

billie begins to thrust, her hips moving faster. with each thrust, her balls hit against eileen's skin. billie furrows her eyebrows, her focus intense, she can feel herself inside her.

—

[i-cant-sing]

Just thinking about Yandere Todoroki clan and reader's random moments.

Reader coming home after a particularly bad day, but poor girl cant even cry or complain without everyone immediately overreacting and pulling you out of school/college or even keeping you from going out at all. So now, reader has to either cry in self pity before she enters her home, wipe her tears and fix herself just enough to show that she hadnt just bawled her eyes out moments ago. That, or do the more risky thing and go home, go to your room and cry under the covers, but then theres always the chance of Rei or the others walking in on you any moment.

Also thinking about baby/toddler reader being sick, just a common cold or flu, nothing major. But with reader whining and being so young, the family's infantalisation goes through the roof and theyd treat you as if you were immunocompromised. I wont lie, but I think Rei is almost kinda... glad when you get sick? She enjoys you being dependant on her for the most things, even when you grow up and are able to handle a cold, she still deludes herself into thinking that you need mommy to come and help you.

I think the one person who is most affected by reader getting sick, no matter what age, is Enji. The man just cant help but view you as a fragile, starving Victorian child the moment you fall ill. In his eyes, even a harsh blow of air is too much for a fragile thing like you, let alone something as bad as the flu. He just- he's holding toddler reader in his arms, who snuggles into his warm body, your tiny nose pink and he cant get the image of you crying and vomiting and being oh so feverish- thats just way too much for your small body. Oh how he almost cried when he took you to the doctor for a shot and you clung to him, trying to bury yourself into him as you begged him to make you feel better, cried to him that you didnt want to get the "big scary needle!" He just had to hold you there in his firm grip as you writhed, had to look away when you looked at him and he saw the feeling of betrayal in your eyes, had to keep himself from not strangling the fucking doctor for not being careful, had to walk out of the clinic and hand you to Rei because he couldnt hear you cry anymore, had to have Rei console both you and Enji (assuring him that "no, Enji. Y/n doesnt resent you for making her get a shot.") and he couldnt even sleep a wink that night because he was standing by your bed, holding your tiny hand with his pinky as a tear finally slipped out of his eye.

ALSO thinking about adult reader going out of the house to meet up with friends, except shes meeting up with them at a club instead of at their house like she told Enji and Rei, and now shes standing outside, abandoned by said friends, and shes now running because a group of pervy men are chasing her and she doesnt know who to call, so she just speed dials Shotou, except someone just changed all your speed dials to one number, and you think youre doomed when Shotou doesnt say a word to you and just hangs up when within minutes, someone comes in front of you-

"Dabi?" He tells you to cover your ears and look away, and you know well by know what that means, so you obey, feeling a bit regretful as those men begin to scream in agony. You dont know how long its been until Dabi pulls your hands away and examines your wounds. He lets you crash into his chest as you sob, and this time, Dabi simply decides to take you home quietly without a lecture.

Hmmm, also thinking about Natsuo who is usually cool as a cucumber, the most normal being in the family, except for his very rare episodes of unbridled rage where he suddenly becomes the Hulk. Good thing for you is that this anger is never directed towards you, rather towards people who actively threaten your life (except Rei cause she gets to play "Im your mom who became mentally unstable because of your abusive dad") The only time NAtsuo is stern with you is when it comes to your health. He's just looking at you with those strict eyes when you refuse to take your multivitamins, or dont want to get a flu shot, or try to make up an excuse so that he cant check your vitals. And when he just grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit down so that he can do his checkup, its in those moments that you realise just how strong your brother is... and how easy it may be for him to overpower you and sedate you if he ever followed through Rei's threats.

[xazse]

Kitty scara Who leers at you and in return you tease him through the duration of your shopping. reader has big boobs btw

If you guys want me to expand on this just ask and I will

NSFW-

Kitty Kuni who can hardly stay patient as you’re both walking through the grocery store doing your weekly visits. He’s insisting that this is oh so boring and he can possibly be spending his time doing something way better, but if you don’t drag him along all he’ll do later is complain that you didn’t get all the things he wanted, so you simply roll your eyes and continue with your shopping.

Scara sticks close to you, he hates places with lots of people, because lots of them mean Men. Men who just can’t seem to take their eyes off your chest, them thinking they’re being so secretive with the way they steal glances when you bend down to look at the quality of a vegetable. Scara won’t lie and say he isn’t leering rather hard too, but he has every right to!

Your outfit isn’t helping this case either, choosing to go with skin tight yoga pants that squeezes the curves of your ass so good, he can see every crevice being pushed on tightly when he gets a good view from behind you.

You continue with your shopping ignoring the gross glance every so often.

While inspecting the grade of a cucumber you move your manicured nails lightly over his ears you rub from the base up to calm him down just a bit, and to remind him it’s only just a bit more shopping then you can both leave. He of course leans In and lets you smooth your hands down the side of his cheek: when he moves to press in and pur you pull your hand away every so gracefully and give him a mischievous quirk of your lips.

Throughout the duration of the shopping when there’s no one around, you’re pressing light kisses to his cheek and every time he tries to deepen them you push him softly and remind him you’re both in public. When there’s a moment of peace again, you turn around and grip his cheeks pinching them In-between your nails, and connect your lips with his, pressing your tongue against the barrier of his teeth and swirling yours with his, it’s not hard to work your poor Kuni up. It’s not surprise when he’s panting open-mouthed while you ravage his mouth just to spot a buggy pulling around your isle before ripping away from the kiss.

Scara just might go Insane if you keep teasing him like this, working his flushed face up every time just to stop last minute, he’s practically rushing you through self-checkout so you can both hurry home.

[chaichaiiskai]

NO PICKLE X MALE READER??? I GOT YOU.

pickle x prehistoric! shot male reader who's like his most precious s/o and overprotective during the prehistoric times and then now in the future. it can be fluff with a bit of angst.

almost the same height as baki or something.

notes: okay okay okay, I'm so sorry I'm late on this but I now have the brain capacity to write somethin' worth readin'...

yandere-ish! possessive! pickle x prehistoric! male! reader

warnings: violence, blood, body horror (not to reader), pickle is a lil' yandere ngl—, possessive and protective behavior, angst, kidnapoing, mention of smut but no explicit descriptions, male reader, amab reader, mxm, mlm, homophobes dni, mdni, 3.7k+ words (I went a lil' ham ngl)

Unexpectedly, the Jurassic research team had never expected to have a primitive man at their fingers, suspended in time and saline— not just one, but two. However, strangely enough, they both looked distinctively different, one was much taller and muscular than the other, causing the researchers to question the periods in time in which both had existed. That was quickly disproven despite this, seeing how the two of the men were encased in the very same saline rock, back to back as if they'd been frozen in time in the middle of protecting each other from an outside threat. On the outside looking in, it was quite poetic in a way, a clear display of humanity in its ideal form, hardened in resin. It was almost a shame that they would be carefully melting away the rock to get a better view of the two men encased in the saline.

The biggest theory amongst the researchers was that the two men could potentially be siblings, the taller one being the oldest brother while the younger was the shorter one; even if they didn't explicitly look alike. There was also the theory about them being father and son, there was no definitive answer— yet.

And so, with as much excitement as most scientists who were ready to discover something new, the thawing process had begun on the saline rock that held two great mysteries.

It took a bit of time for the researchers to thaw the rock with pure caution, wanting to keep the two beings intact as much as possible and so, they'd decided to thaw one side at a time— starting with the smaller man first. About two days later, they had managed to thaw him out completely and get him onto a gurney that surprisingly creaked and squeaked under his weight. They hooked the man up to monitors and machines, eager to see what exactly was going on with him, and to their shock— there was a faint heartbeat which required more close surveillance from them. The man looked almost as if he was stuck in a peaceful sleep, seemingly unable to wake up.

Half of the research team found themselves debating on whether or not they would apply modern technology to this man, wanting to reanimate him while the other focused on melting away the rest of the saline and getting a better look at the beast of a man while keeping the smaller man under surveillance.

And to their astonishment (and horror) the beast woke as they had managed to melt the saline away, stopping about halfway past his torso. One could only imagine the look of terror on the faces of the small, everyone was small compared to this creature, scientists as they stared up at him. He simply stared back, unmoving, but blinking, glancing around briefly at his confusing new surroundings that looked nothing like what he knew when he was younger.

Project Pickle was a success, but could the same be said about Project Cucumber?

Despite the looming and watchful eyes of the eight foot tall man who watched each and every one of them as they worked, the scientist continued to melt away the saline while Pickle remained still. Based on instinct alone, he did not sense any imminent danger, therefore, he saw none of the people in the room as immediate threats.

That did not last long, when he was completely free, he began to look around more, almost as if he was looking for something specific, tendrils of dark locks swinging as he looked rather perplexed. Then, he briefly sniffed the air, pupils dilating as his gaze zeroed in on the high security door that kept him tucked away in a metal box he didn't care to think about. And he began to walk towards the door, unknowing of what he was doing exactly, and stared at it, sniffing the air once again.

Surprisingly, the military personnel that worked as security on the premises didn't even bother to move, not even when the beast of a man snatched the door clean off it's securely bolted in to get a peek inside. He then crouched under the doorway to walk through it, almost like he was walking into a cave and made his way towards the gurney that held Cucumber's sleeping form. The scientist in the room all audibly gasped, shuddering in fear as he took some steps forward, standing at the foot of the gurney that still held your body.

The silence in the facility was deafening, even a single needle would be heard if it were to hit the cold tile floor.

And that's when Pickle moved, grabbing a hold of your calf to give it a squeeze that would have surely shattered the bones of a modern hero. Coincidentally, it had only caused your eyes to shoot open, a sound of anger coming from your mouth that was accustomed to a growl as you sat up, grabbing at the hand of the being who'd rudely woken you from your sleep. Only then when you were awake did Pickle loosen his grip and your eyes met for the first time in over hundreds of millions of years. The moment was wholesome to the two of you, but somewhat eerie to those looking on the outside in.

From then on, Pickle and Cucumber were given their own special area where they spent all their time together. There was one thing that was quite noticeable about the pair, Pickle did not like it when people got too close to Cucumber, often growling and baring his teeth at anyone who came too close. On the other hand, he would let the scientist get close to him so long as they kept their distance from you. Their interactions were simple enough, no words were exchanged but there was the occasional grunt and groan as they seemed to speak to each other in their own silent way. The original theories of the scientist believing that you were siblings was proving stronger and stronger with each day.

That— however, would soon change upon witnessing an... interaction between the two of you.

One late evening, the scientists were simply busying themselves with their research, not even paying much attention to the two men in their makeshift habitat. That was until the sound of growling, hissing, and other wild, animalistic noises coming from one of the monitors that was watching over the Projects. Curiously, the several scientists turned to look at the screen, mostly with mystified looks on their faces.

It looked like Pickle and Cucumber were battling, roughhousing in the dirt of the carefully constructed enclosure, biting and scratching at one another. Almost immediately, the scientists were ready to jump into action to find some way to subdue the two of them before something horrible happened and ruined their research, but nothing could have prepared them for what came next.

The winner of the wrestling match was Pickle, and he was eager to claim his prize. The scene that played out on the monitor was enough to make every single personnel who was watching blush like roses in a garden.

Welp, there goes their family theory... The last thing they had ever expected was that these two primitive men would be engaging in a romantic partnership, yet here they were— the sounds the two of them were making was proof. And surely, they should have all looked away, but they couldn't seem to look away, only doing so when the two men had both tired each other and decided to fall asleep, cuddling together as if they hadn't just violated each other in the most criminal and animalistic way. The two of them looked almost innocent in a way, Pickle easily dwarfed Cucumber in the spooning embrace but at least the two of them seemed comfortable.

From then on, the researchers that watched you both seemed to look at your interactions under a new light, noticing the romantic undertones with everything the two of you did together.

Pickle had a refusal to eat things that he did not actively hunt and seeing how there were no animals in the enclosure, he did not eat. And fortunately, considering the differences in biology, the primitive man was able to withstand being without food for a much longer period of time than what modern day people could do now.

A few weeks after being thawed from your saline sanctuaries, and constantly being observed by the weirdly skinny people with their weird furs, you were beginning to become more and more curious yourself. So much so that while Pickle was sleeping and one of the massive walls moved, your eyes immediately flew towards it and watched as one of the skinny people came into the room cautious and careful, holding something in their hands that seemed to be carrying other things. In interest, you stared at them, watching their every move, staying completely alert as they set the thing with things down and scurried away behind the moving wall.

Pickle was still slumbering deeply as you stared at the new thing in your enclosure before slowly approaching, sniffing around so that you could safely close the distance. As you got closer, familiar scents filled your nose and a sound of approval, similar to the sound of a chirp, was heard before you picked up a familiar fruit, peeling it off its skin and beginning to happily indulge in the fruity flavor. You sat beside the thing of things, the bowl of fruit, and happily ate the delicious treat, crossing your legs in a comfortable manner.

The eyes of your lover soon fluttered and he felt around on the ground, using his touch to try and find you, and when he is unable to, an angry growl is the only sound he makes before getting onto all fours, glancing around like a predator on a hunt. That was until he felt your presence and smelled you again, along with some strangely familiar scents and so he crawled in the direction of whether the scent was strongest.

If there was one thing to give credit on, it was the enclosure that the scientist has carefully constructed for the two of you looked like a forest, filled with trees and dirt and patches of grass, but there was an area where you often would relax— a clearing where the trees were a bit more sparse and the dirt was more abundant. That was also where Pickle and Cucumber were able to see the wall move and keep a close eye on the scientists and researchers who entered the enclosure.

The man crawled his way towards where he could smell where your scent was strongest and soon stumbled upon you hunched over, back facing him, and shoving things in your mouth, stuffing your cheeks with your newfound feast. Be that as it may, upon sensing Pickle's presence, you paused and in your squatting position, you shuffled your feet around, pivoting so that you could face Pickle. Soon enough, you flashed him a grin, mouth drenched in sweet juices as you beckoned him over with a hand.

He trusted you completely, but the same couldn't be said about what you were consuming, his eyes peeking between you and the fruit as he slowly crawled towards you. As soon as Pickle was within reach, you were quick to pluck one of the grapes from its stem and shove into his mouth, almost as if you were nonverbally saying 'try this!'

Caught off guard by the strange thing shoved in his mouth, he nearly spit it out but you quickly gave him a pleading look, puppy eyes causing his shoulders to slump, holding the grape in his mouth rather awkwardly. Huffing in frustration at him, you pointed a clawed nail towards your mouth and pretended to chew before pointing at Pickle, a look of concentration on your face as you nodded at him, hoping he'd get the message— he did.

At first, you couldn't tell how he'd felt about the grapes based on his facial expressions alone but that soon changed when his eyes widened, and then an approving sound followed.

"Hm!"

You couldn't agree more, grinning as you plucked a few more grapes, making a sound similar to a laugh when Pickle basically unhinged his jaw as you threw grapes in his mouth, one by one like a childish game.

This was another thing that the researchers had noticed, the two of you were easily amused by the simplest things, acting rather childishly despite both being full-grown adults. It was almost endearing in a way, watching the two of you, mostly you, feed each other fruits, enjoying yourselves with no active threats of danger in your lives. It was almost something to be jealous of... And that was when the researchers' curiosity seemed to spark, and perhaps an experiment would lead to some interesting results, as dangerous as they may be, but it would take an intricate amount of planning for every possible outcome.

Weeks pass.

At the exact same time every day, more bowls of fruit are brought for the two of you, the amount of fruit only seeming to double in sizes each and every time. The two of you actively seem to enjoy the fruit, the grapes being an especially popular fruit between the two of you. You were often feeding Pickle and yourself the fruit, happily enjoying them each and every time.

And just as usual, one of the skinny people brought in more bowls of fruit, with even more fruit than you could ever imagine. And naturally, you both dug right in, enjoying the sweet flavors wholeheartedly. That was until the world began to spin around you and Pickle, your vision growing spotty and blurred. Before either you or Pickle can register, your body's hit the ground and the last thing you see is Pickle attempting to crawl over you, wishing to protectively drape himself over your body but you lose consciousness before seeing if he's made it.

Much to the surprise of the researchers, the tranquilizers they'd injected into the fruit had finally worked! And now they could perform their experiment in peace— a great number of security personnel piled into the enclosure and grabbed a hold of your body, carrying you out of the enclosure and shutting the door behind themselves, carrying you to somewhere else within the facility.

The door was then properly amped up with the greatest technology the facility could offer, mostly looking to measure the strength of Pickle and his partnership with you.

When the next day came, Pickle awoke, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the enclosure he was entrapped in. He slowly sat up once his senses were back at their full use, though his body was still a bit drowsy and tiredly glanced around. Naturally, he was wondering where you were, causing him to click his teeth together in a particular way, calling out for you in his own special call.

And when he got no response, usually an excitable chirp, he got on all fours and began to crawl around the enclosure, sniffing and looking for where you could be hiding. Having been in the enclosure for so long, your scent was still lingering and he knew that you liked to play games— hiding from him, but with each passing second of him calling you and climbing up a few trees to find your usual hiding places, his panic was becoming more and more apparent. And before anyone could register the true terror of Pickle, the man stood on his two feet and roared at the fake sky, the power from it was enough to shake the entire enclosure.

The pure, unfiltered rage could be felt even through the security cameras currently being observed.

Perhaps this was a mistake.

Another growl followed before Pickle could be seen barreling towards the moving wall // enforced door with great speed and animosity, almost as if he knew that they were withholding his beloved from him. A line of personnel were on the other side of the door, prepared for what was to come next, and when he came in contact with the door, slamming his head into the metal, a noticeable dent from the outside was created but the door did not immediately give out. Another roar of anger came from him as reared back and began to repeatedly pound his fists into the door, dent after dent being put into the door that would not budge like the one he'd destroyed after waking up.

On the other side of the facility, you weren't doing any better, having woken up about an hour after Pickle, you were surprised to see the new enclosure, confused on where you were and most importantly— where Pickle was. Nothing smelt or felt familiar and you couldn't sense him. And unlike Pickle, you didn't immediately react with rage, instead, you reacted in a rather panicked way, climbing up the nearest tree for a better vantage point. When you saw no sight of Pickle, the anxiety began to set in, not even considering the possibility that he was still somewhat close by and that you'd been forcibly separated from him by the researchers who were still observing you both with keen eyes, notebooks and pens in hand.

They keep you separated for days, watching as Pickle's rage only grows and your anxiety seems to be eating away at you, almost deteriorating you at a rapid pace. Watching your differing reactions was proving to be even more interesting than they'd originally hypothesized. And while doing this experiment, the scientist had not revealed themselves to either primitive men, but about four days after the experiment started, one of the researchers had offered that they go back to sending in the bowls of fruit to see how they'd react.

Naturally, they chose to give you the fruit first.

And when the wall opened, your gaze immediately snapped up and you moved faster than they'd anticipated, hurriedly approaching the person with the bowl of fruit on all fours. The scientist is horrified at first, watching as you stare at him with pleading, puppy-like eyes. And then, you open your mouth before closing it, almost as if you were trying to say something but were hesitating.

Every scientist was on the edge of their seats, not expecting your reaction in the slightest.

Your mouth opens and closes a few more times before you finally speak, though the words are a bit broken, syllables are a bit hard to comprehend for you at the moment.

"Hmm...hm...hi—him." You move your hands above your head and begin to mess with the air, almost as if you were playing with long hair, obviously talking about Pickle.

"Wh...wha...wha...here..? Whe—whe...where?"

You did not get the reaction you wanted, watching as the scientist dropped the bowl of fruit and ran away, the wall shutting quickly behind him. As soon as the door fully closed, you lunged at it and slammed your fists onto it, broken words soon following as you pleaded, eyes beginning to water.

"Plee...plea— plea..? Please?!"

The sight of you whimpering and pounding your fists on the door is nearly enough to make the scientists sympathetic, watching as you crumble in on yourself, clearly suffering from some kind of abandonment issue. So much so that you were willing to speak their language to try and communicate. They wondered if you could learn more words and perhaps even sentences in the future. Perhaps they should have separated the two of you since the very beginning.

On the fifth day, Pickle had stopped pounding on the door, the amount of dents he'd left in the door was a concerning amount and the personnel had even grown fearful that he'd end up breaking through it soon, but they were fortunate that it seemed he'd given up. And instead, he simply sat down in front of the door, crossing his legs and his arms over his chest, waiting for the wall to open, almost as if he was expecting it.

It never opened.

Not that day.

Not the next day.

And not the next day.

The doors would open often for you, the scientists would bring you fruit and strange things while they spoke to you, trying to get you to talk to them again but your eyes were always wandering behind them, looking for Pickle in hopes of seeing him again. You do not remember the last time you'd been with him for such a long period of time, your anxiety seemed to build with each day.

"If you can just say one word— we'll bring you back to your mate, okay?"

The scientist said, waving their hands around as if that was going to help you understand what they were getting at. You simply furrowed your brows at them, trying to understand the weird noises they were saying to you. The language barrier was obvious.

As one would expect, the scientists were frustrated by the progress, trying to express to you their desires and what they wanted. They were getting nowhere.

Pickle had remained seated like a statue in front of the door, unmoving and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He had to find you, and he wasn't going to let this strange thing stop him from doing so.

Though he may not be the smartest, he knew that his fists had worn down this strange stone wall and just a few more shoves would soon bend to his will. And so, suddenly, he stood up and got into a fighting position, bringing his fist back before shooting it forward at the speed of a bullet that breaks the sound barrier with a clap and the door goes flying, crushing the line of personnel on the other side against the nearest wall, turning them into mush.

He steps out, a blank, uninterested stare on his face. An alarm soon goes off at this, seeing how he'd just brutally murdered some of security, but that didn't stop Pickle from continuing to walk, eager to find where you are, wanting nothing more than to have you back safe in his arms. And if that means crushing the skulls of small people, he wouldn't mind, so long as he got back to you.

[sixeyescurseuser]

Thinking about what Gojo’s genuine laugh sounds like. AKA the different types of laughs he has that’s not just for show…

His obnoxious cackles like the one he did with Riko when they were poking at the sea cucumber in Okinawa.

His cute giggle when he and Suguru would be quietly bickering during the latest hours in the night.

His laugh of disbelief when he manages to make advancements in his training.

Or when he’s riding behind Suguru on his manta ray, holding onto Suguru’s middle and breathlessly gasping at the beautiful views down below.

Geto is also the first person Gojo looks at when he makes a joke or tells a story. Suguru’s opinions and reactions are very important to him, after all!

Fast forward to where little Megumi draws a picture of his family - Tsumiko, Gojo, and Geto - but makes Gojo’s legs way too long and Geto’s face wayyy too big.

Gojo can’t hide his guffaws! Well he tried to, turning away while wheezing and holding his stomach-

Geto has to do damage control, saying the drawing is wonderful and ruffling Megumi’s hair - who is pouting.

Gojo is a huge fan of throwing surprises for others; Geto finds it a personal win whenever he catches Satoru off guard with his own surprises.

Grand gestures and mushy displays of affection are a bonus! Whenever Geto makes his curses part of his Valentine’s confessions or pulls Gojo onto the dance floor in a club and spins him around, the pure joy and laughter that escapes Satoru’s lips is Geto’s favorite.

Gojo has such a pretty smile too, which makes his eyes shine like twin, electric blue sapphires.

Many of the pictures they have hung up in their home include Gojo mid-laugh and Geto staring at him with the fondest expression.

They are married, your honor. ❤️