#did this the other day with chicken breasts and that shit was dry as hell and the rice was soupy but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i ate it anyway it was fine

[vampyroteuthid]

it's awesome that i grew up vegetarian and my parents weren't good cooks because every time i make some wretched cooking disaster as long as i don't think it's going to poison me i will still eat it and feel fine about it. my tolerance for shitty food is so high which is great because i'm broke as hell and too lazy to spend very much time cooking and don't like food waste.

[echo-hiraeth]

Chapter 7: El Hombre con el Corazón Ardiente

Part of the “Illicit Limerence” series

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: After finally standing up for herself, Javier takes it upon himself to treat her to a lovely evening together. Yet the mere idea of what happened and what might still happen won’t let go of him.

Warnings: swearing, angst, suggestive sexual content, nudity, arguing, mentions of abusive household 

Masterlist

Previous chapter

Next chapter

“How’s that?”

You let out a moan, the mixture of his hot hands and the aroma of the water just plain entrancing.

He lowers his hand to that particularly sore spot on your lower back, rubbing it just the right way. “Words, hermosa..”

“Mhmm, ‘sgood, very good.. don’t stop”, you mutter groggily, eyes threatening to shut any second.

His breath fans against your ear as he huffs out a chuckle, lips pressing to the tender skin there. “Don’t fall asleep, we’re just getting started.”

As his hands move around to your front, softly grazing the underside of your stinging breasts, you flinch a bit. “Ten cuidado”, you whisper, lips moving against his cheek. (Be careful.)

“¿Confías en mí?”, he questions, thumbs rubbing over your hardening peaks. (Do you trust me?)

“Mhmm, depends..”, you teased, smirking up at him.

He frowned at you, trying his hardest not to smirk right back. “On what?”

“I trust you with my life in the field.. but at home.. seeing how you nearly burnt down the apartment like half an hour ago.. I’m not so sure..”

He grabbed a hold your chin, forcing you to look straight up at him. “Don’t get too mouthy now, hermosa.”

You leaned back a bit more, lips brushing past his. “I’ll do with this mouth as I please.”

He bit his bottom lips, hand sliding down to your throat. “As much as I want to take you up on that.. you need to heal up a bit more first.”

“I know, I just enjoy gaging reactions”, you purred, taking his hand off your throat.

“Never took you as the brat kind of girl.”

You pressed your lips to his for a short, sweet kiss. “You’ll find I’m full of surprises, agente Peña.”

Having keened his interest, you peeled his arms off of you, grabbing onto the rim of the tub as you went to stand. “W-where are you going?”

“Water’s getting cold”, you sighed, wrapping a towel around yourself. “And I would’ve fallen asleep.”

He got out of the bathtub as well, reaching for the other towel on the rack. “Your back feel any better?”

“Loads”, you walked up behind him, resting your chin on his bare shoulder as you captured his gaze in the foggy mirror. “Thank you.”

“You did good today.. I know it wasn’t easy but you’re doing the right thing”, he softly spoke, drying his torso.

“I’m sure others would disagree”, you sighed, slipping on the silky chemise that you’d laid out for the night. “I-I’m just really scared of having to go to court about it.”

He adjusted the fallen strap on your left shoulder, dragging his fingers to your cheek, holding them there. “We have hard evidence and maybe even witnesses. Whatever happens, I’ll be right here with you, corazón, every step of the way.”

“Ah fuck”, you muttered under your breath, tugging at the hem of your chemise.

“Feeling sick? Cramp? What’s wrong?”, Javier hovered over you, immediately turning around.

“Oh no, no, I’m okay, just.. this doesn’t fit”, you chuckled.

He looked at the way the fabric didn’t stretch over your hips, smugly smiling. “It’s all those hot meals Lopez gave you.”

“Or it’s the fact that you knocked me up”, you retorted, playfully smacking his behind.

“Take my shirts until you can buy some new stuff”, he suggested, ruffling a smaller towel through his damp hair.

You pecked his shoulder, walking out of the bathroom to pull a t-shirt out of his bag. As you turned you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Oh wow, yeah, your breasts did look a bit fuller and your lower belly had somewhat of a curve to it. You turned a bit, watching yourself from the side and hesitantly put a hand on your swollen abdomen. It wasn’t necessarily a noticeable bump yet, but it was there.

“You look beautiful”, his voice sounded.

You whipped your head in his direction, his figure looking impossibly broad leaning against the doorway like that. “You’re just saying that because of these”, you taunted, gesturing towards your chest.

“I’m saying it because it’s true.” He walked over to you, grabbing the shirt from your hands and slipping it over your head. “But if you don’t cover those up I won’t be able to control myself.”

He gave a flustered chuckle when you pushed the fabric up against your nose. “Smells like you..”

“Fucking weirdo. Let’s go make some food.”

 Javier had improvised a dinner with whatever he could find in your cupboards and fridge. He managed to cook up some homemade garlic bread while you sliced and diced some vegetables for the main course, promising a great start to the evening.

When you’d practically inhaled half a piece, he grabbed a hold of your wrist. “Slow down, you’re gonna choke.”

You took another bite, closing your eyes as you fucking savoured it. “You’re making this every day now.”

“I almost burned the apartment down, again”, he reminded you.

You laughed, giving him the opportunity to take the half-eaten piece of bread from your hand. He shoved it into his own mouth, winking at you. You gave him an offended look, crossing your arms as you stared into his eyes. “That was a hate crime.”

“C’mon, you were gonna be full before dessert, I did you a favour here”, he taunted, wiping some left-over butter off your chin.

You smiled at him, cuddling into his chest: “Shut up. Now hands off, I need to check on the chicken.”

He laid back in the couch, watching as you made your way over to the kitchen, the fabric of his shirt swaying in rhythm with your strides. “Need any help?”

“Nope! Do you want a beer?”, you called.

Javier could get used to this. He never really imagined himself a family man, but spending the evening just in your company? That didn’t seem so unlikely anymore. The way he’d catch you looking at him, eyes shimmering with unspoken words of affirmation and adoration, he could tell you were happy. He couldn’t grasp it though, the fact that somebody as sweet and pure as you would ever settle for a mess like him. Maybe he was somewhat of a project to you, or maybe, just maybe you loved him as much as you’d claimed earlier that day. His heart raced just from looking at you. The way you were stood in that mirror earlier, cupping the slight swell of your belly, it had triggered something within his deeper conscience. He’d never admit it though – well, maybe one day, but tonight, tonight was good enough the way it was. Just the two of you in that damn apartment, getting to know one another. As much as he was enjoying the moment, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat conflicted about what had been revealed to him back at the office. The recounting of your childhood conflicts and traumas not leaving his mind, even as he watched you twirl around the kitchen, teeth-baring grin plastered on that precious face of yours. How in the hell did you do it, how in the hell were you this strong. He’d been wanting to talk about it all night, wanting to know everything, but he’d decided that you could use a break, even if it was just for one night.

“Hola Peña, ayudarme!” (Hey, help me)

He immediately got up from the couch, joining you at the stove. “Did you say something?”

“Yeah, just get me two plates and like a spatula”, you instructed, turning the knobs on the furnace.

He passed you the utensil, two plates balancing on his other arm. “So we uh, we’re like a thing now, right?”

You found the time to look at him and raise an eyebrow. “Are you joking?”

“Thought I’d confirm before like.. grabbing your ass at work or something.”

“Grabbing my- take these damn plates to the couch before I beat your ass”, you giggled.

He did as you asked, smirking to himself, thinking of the perfect comeback. “Gotta tell Lopez and Suarez somehow.”

“I swear if you bring it up one more time I will not have sex with you for a week.”

 The rest of the night was spend on the couch with a tub of vanilla ice cream to be shared between the both of you. You’d eventually just gone to watching tv, too tired and sore to do literally anything else. Javier didn’t complain though, God knows he was exhausted as well. It was no surprise really when he fell asleep with your head in his lap, fingers suddenly stilled in your hair. You’d noticed he was out before dozing off yourself, mouth slightly agape, drooling a bit. The two of you had been there for about an hour, completely knocked out when Javier suddenly jolted awake, startling you.

“Shit, sorry”, he gasped.

You sat up, placing a hand on his heaving chest. “What’s the matter, Javi?”

“Just a stupid dream, but I’m fine”, he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Sit tight baby, I’ll get you some water.”

He closed his eyes, tipping his head back as he focused on getting his heartrate down. This hadn’t happened in a while, well he hadn’t slept that much anyway, so go figure. When he had nightmares they were never about himself but about others and this time it was about you. He didn’t know what your dad looked like, not even in the slightest, but the picture he created in his head was enough to make his blood boil.

“Here, drink up.”

He eagerly took the glass from your hands, downing it in just a few gulps, his breathing somewhat slower. As you got up to refill it for him, he tugged you back over to him. “Please just.. sit with me..”

You put the glass on the coffee table, taking a seat on his lap, a leg on either side of him. Balling up the shirt’s fabric in your hand, you gently swiped it across his sweaty forehead. “Wanna talk about it?”, you cooed, brushing some stray locks behind his ear.

“Just give me a minute, then we can go to bed”, he slurred, resting his head against your sternum.

The two of you sat there for half a dozen minutes, just wrapped up in each other. It was silences like these you cherished. The only sound his breathing which got calmer by the minute until eventually he was perfectly fine again, pressing a kiss to your neck before looking up at you. You let out a squeak as he cupped your bottom, standing up with you wrapped around him. He carried you into the bathroom, setting you down on the counter there.

“I’m gonna get some more water, you get ready, okay?”

By the time he was ready for bed, you were already sat on the mattress, writing down a grocery list as he emerged. “M’gonna head out to the market tomorrow, need some stuff”, you declared, pen wedged between your teeth.

“Just wake me up, I’ll come with.”

“I was actually hoping to go and meet Connie as well and help her out with Olivia.”

He took his shirt off before sliding under the covers. “I’ll take Steve out then”, he added, rubbing a hand over your thigh. “C’mere querida, I’m not done with you yet.”

 When you fell asleep exactly, you had no idea, but it took a loooong time. Longer than usual, especially considering the other half of the bed was constantly moving. Whether it was tossing from his left to his right or accidentally sucker-punching you in his flailing, you couldn’t pinpoint. You’d nonetheless made your way out of the arena, taking you pillow to the couch. It wasn’t as comfy as your bed, but the risk of a broken nose was significantly smaller.

You woke up to a pair of lips pressed to your head, a hand on your shoulder. “Did I say something bad?”, he joked.

You nuzzled deeper into your pillow, not wanting to open your eyes, painfully fatigued. “Fuck you.”

“That bad huh?”, he continued, kneeling down in front of you.

“Nearly kicked me out of the bed”, you mumbled groggily, opening one eye to look at him.

He pecked your forehead again, rubbing a hand through your hair. “Tell you what, you go back to bed and I’ll run down to the bakery for some breakfast.”

“I’m gonna be like.. really really hungry though.”

“I’ll get you the good stuff, now get back in bed.”

You kissed his lips as you sat up, swatting his bum in passing. The bed had never felt so fucking snug before, as you flopped down. Falling back asleep almost as soon as you hit the pillow. You’d get your revenge later, but for now, you’d linger in the warmth of his pillow.

As Javier headed down to the shop, he took the scenic route, aka going to the office. He was a nervous wreck knowing your case could’ve been reviewed already. He just needed to know, he couldn’t get it out of his head at this point. He was surprised to find Steve there, giving him a knowing look before joining him at the desk.

“And?”

“They approved, should get a response somewhere next week.”

Javier let out a sigh of relief, leaning back on the desk. “Thank fucking Christ.”

“Think she’ll be okay?”, his partner asked, genuine concern in his tone.

“She’s fine, if it was up to me he would’ve been rotting in there already.”

“It’s not that easy okay, she still had ties with her sisters… she just didn’t want to lose it all over-“

“Over her own fucking safety?”, he scolded. “I mean shit, probably would have never even told me if she didn’t get her ass handed to her.”

Steve shuffled on his feet, motioning for his partner to calm down. “It’s not something she talks about. Don’t take it personally, I knew her for years and also found out that way.”

“Don’t take it pers– that’s the mother of my fucking child, man! Can’t get much more personal than that!”

“You wanna play daddy now huh, take care of your girl? Don’t fucking forget who made her run home in the first place Peña.”, Steve snarled, poking his friend in the chest.

He grabbed two fistfuls of Murphy’s jacket, face dangerously close to his, eyes glaring into his. “You know jack shit.”

“You gonna get sick of this one too? Find another altar to leave her at?”

“I was there holding her when she screamed and cried, for hours, I kept myself together for her, still do. And you, you fucking just watched her get destroyed and ripped apart and didn’t do shit! Don’t even try to talk down to me man, check yourself!” He was shaking with rage, chest heaving in between strings of broken screams and curses. “I burn for her.”

Deciding to be the bigger person, he turned around, heading out of the office. He wasn’t perfect, hell, far from it, but he wasn’t about to let that fucker get to him. He was bigger, better than this. So he did what he knew best, going for a drive. As he pulled up to the sandwich shop, like he’d promised the anger has somewhat left his body, the only remnant the protruding vein on his neck and the furrow of his brows.

When he walked back into the apartment he was met with a welcoming silence. He left his shoes and keys at the door, just the way you liked it and headed straight for the bedroom. You were cuddled up in the sheets, lips perked up in an adorable pout.

I burn for her.

Even peacefully asleep you set his heart aflame, unleashed the passions he’d hidden away years ago. You brought out the things he kept tucked away, for fear of what might happen if they were ever to be unleashed again. Something about the way you touched him, the way you talked to him, the way you just treated him in general made him feel safe and rooted. It made him feel like a person, the monstrous persona he’d become chipping away with every brush of your lips. You were it for him, all he ever needed and all he’d ever want, you were his everything. Maybe one day he could tell you, maybe one day he could find the right words to say to you, he sure as hell wanted to.

It was a bit past noon at this point, the sun starting to shine through the curtains. The beams cast the room in a yellowy hue, the sheets looking incredibly inviting and soft in this light. He set down the bag on the other side of the bed, slowly sitting down, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You blinked a few times, squinting as you adjusted to the brightness within the room. “What time is it?”

The two of you sat in bed, eating sandwiches and just enjoying the slow day. He’d told you he went to the office and ran into Murphy, he discretely let out the part where he almost choked him out, instead said something about Connie and him being unavailable today. You insisted you could handle yourself for some groceries, but Javier’s big stubborn brain had reasoned again anything of the sorts. So not too soon after the two of you found yourselves in the centre of Bogotá, the market to be precise.

He admired the way you talked to the locals and the way they seemed to know you, smiling and offering you kind words as you passed by them. Despite being the one to insist he come along, he found himself bored within minutes, straying from your side a bit when he thought you took too long deciding between fucking soap or towels. Javier had always been a simple man, not one to stop and enjoy the finer things, but with you here, he didn’t mind it all that much. Somewhere along the way you’d pointed out a small café, wanting to grab a quick drink before finishing up on your shopping. He’d of course agreed, Javier Peña wasn’t one to turn down a fresh, cold beer.

“¿Es mi niña?”, an elderly woman called out to you.

You got up and enveloped the lady in a heartfelt embrace. As she kissed your face all over, Javier just quirked a brow, perplexed at the sight.

“Dios mío, ¿ese es él tipo?“, the woman cooed, “Muy guapo.” (My goodness, is that him? Very handsome.)

You blushed a bit at her words, before slowly nodding. “Rosita, este es mi novio.“ (This is my boyfriend.)

“Perdón, ¿me estoy perdiendo algo?”, Javier intervened, not sure what to make of the situation. (Sorry, but am I missing something?)

Rosita walked off after you asked her for something, giving you the opportunity to turn back to Javier. “I met her before I went home. She spotted me in the square and offered me a drink. I told her about what a jerk you were.”

He huffed out an awkward laugh before stowing his aviators in his breast pocket. “De acuerdo, soy un imbécil”, he smirked, sitting down across from you. “Nothing you didn’t know beforehand.” (All right, I’m a jerk.)

“Mhm, but a very persuasive one”, you teased with a teeth-baring smile.

“Persuasive huh?”, he taunted, leaning forward a bit, “You better behave, hermosa, no se burle de mí..” (Don’t tease me.)

He leaned back in his seat as Rosita set two glasses on the table. “Bueno, ¿cómo está el bebé?”, she asked excitedly, sitting between the both of you. (Well, how’s the baby?)

The two of you quickly caught up to speed on the whole baby thing while Javier just sat back and listened. He didn’t get the whole fussing about it, he actually found it rather annoying and off-putting, the way people would obsess over you and your baby. Eventually the conversation turned back around and Rosita was decidedly interrogating Javier on his behaviour towards you.

“Bueno, ¿y tú la estás tratando bien?” Her tone left no room for arguing or dishonesty, eyes glaring into his own, making him shift in his seat. (Well, are you treating her right?)

“Hago lo mejor que puedo, señora.. pero es del tipo testarudo”, he answered, winking at you. (I try my best ma’am.. but she’s rather stubborn.)

The old woman laughed, putting a hand over his: “Eso es lo que me gusta escuchar.” (That’s what I like to hear.)

 After about another half hour of the chitchatting you finally returned to the market, to Javier’s relief. He adored the old woman, but small talk and “high tea” wasn’t really his strong suit. He preferred drinking with the guys, free of puny conversation topics such as stretchmarks and morning sickness. You seemed to be enjoying yourself however, hence why he stayed seated, rather than finishing up your shopping himself. The two of you were casually walking through the stands, a feet or two apart, not wanting to raise too much suspicion in case any sicarios should see the two of you together. No matter where, Javier was always on his toes, having been familiar with the cartel’s practices for quite some time now. So when you’d go buy vegetables at one stand, he’d go admire the spices at the next one over, occasionally sneaking peaks at you. You were doing exactly that when he found himself in front of a stand with children’s toys and clothes. He rolled his eyes, cursing himself for just not walking ahead as the woman smiled at him.

“¿Puedo ayudarte en algo, cariño?”, she asked nicely.

He looked down at the table, sputtering out something about just looking when his eyes land on the tiniest set of little socks. He can’t help himself and finds the corners of his mouth curling up ever so slightly. They were nothing special, just a pair of plain white socks with some yellow stripes on them, but something about them made him pull out his wallet.

He stuffed them in his back pocket, turning around to see you over at the next vendor already, stocking up on the last of your groceries. Later – he thought – I’ll tell her later.

Taglist: @pedritomando @peterhollandkait @ophelia-ingenue @radiowallet @phoenixhalliwell @diogodxlot @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @asta-lily​ 

[myherowritings]

Fact or Fiction?

— “OKAY get this : pro hero bakugou & pro hero reader are shipped by literally everyone bc it’s painfully obvious that the boy likes her & people keep tagging him in n*fw stories abt reader & him & he reads one & literally cannot look at reader the same & she goes “you’re acting weird. oh no, did you read the fanfics?” because SHE HAS TOO. anyways they finally end up getting together & maybe n*fw???" by anonymous.

pairing: pro hero!bakugou x fem!reader word count: 3.0k genre: pro hero au, humor/crack, smut warnings: explicit language, masturbation (bakugou), imagined oral?, bakugou is just fucking horny y’all, 18+

a/n: tysm for the request! it’s not full on heavy fucking (i’m still warming up to writing that...so prob in my next smut fic hehe) and it’s more crack than smut lolol, but i hope you like it! [y/h/n = your hero name]

GROUND ZERO AND Y/H/N SPOTTED IN KANAGAWA PREFECTURE!

Bakugou rolled his eyes. That was the headline following a Pro Hero meeting at a neighboring ward just a few weeks ago. Of course you were spotted together. You were both Pro Heroes after all.

SECRET ROMANTIC GETAWAY?: GROUND ZERO AND Y/H/N CAUGHT HOLDING HANDS AT MOUNT MITAKE

He definitely was not holding your hand. You simply dropped your wallet--for someone so good on the field, you sure were rather clumsy--and he handed it back to you. Easy as that. It was only the angle of the photograph that made it look like your fingers were interlocked.

Y/H/N SPOTTED WITH A HICKEY AFTER HER DATE WITH GROUND ZERO

There were many issues with this headline.

For one, he did not take you out on a date. Deku invited you, Iida, and Bakugou out for dinner, but of course the paparazzi captured pictures of only the two of you, making it look like a one-on-one date.

And for two, there was no hickey anywhere in sight. You had simply banged your jaw on the table while reaching down for a spoon you dropped, causing a small bruise to form on the place your jawline met your neck.

(Besides, if Katsuki were to give you a hickey--which he wouldn’t even dream of--it sure as hell wouldn’t look as sloppy as that.)

GROUND ZERO PROPOSES TO Y/H/N?!

Now this one was just bullshit.

TOP 5 HOTTEST “GROUND Y/H/N” STORIES YOU NEED TO READ

Bakugou froze at the last headline, cautiously eyeing the link before scoffing in both curiosity and disgust and exiting the window.

He knew what the article meant by stories. He was tagged in them more times than he could count. Plus, he wasn’t stupid-- Katsuki knew that people shipped his hero persona with yours and that some fans went a little overboard with the art and writing. But honestly, he didn’t pay that much mind.

In fact, he gave little to no fucks about what people chose to do in their free time, but tagging you and him in them and commenting links for you to see? That was a different story. Doing so was obnoxious and revolting and if he ever found out someone made you uncomfortable by exposing you to a the obscenity, he would make sure they suffer the consequences.

He hoped you didn’t see any of that shit in your lifetime and he sure as hell didn’t want to either.

So, of course, the universe heard his plea and decided to give him the exact opposite.

“Can’t you people fucking keep these to yourselves?” growled Bakugou when the first thing he saw as he logged onto his social medias were notifications of tags and links to obscene creations on his page.

There were drawings of him and Deku, him and Uravity, and even him and the half-and-half bastard. But the overwhelming majority of the pictures were of him and Y/H/N. Some of the art was normal enough and most of them were incredibly well drawn and pure. But a handful of them were--to put it nicely--lewd as fuck.

And Katsuki couldn’t help but feel incredibly guilty was his eyes wandered from the exposed swell of your breasts to the curves of your hip and lower to the smooth expanse of…

He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his phone onto his sofa with a disgusted snort. Even though it was only a drawing, he felt terrible for indulging in it like that.

“Dammit, Katsuki,” he scolded himself, running his fingers through his hair as he tried not to picture how you really looked underneath your hero costume.

Now was not the time to be wondering if your skin would feel as soft under the caress of his fingertips as he had imagined. (Yet, here he was.) Nor was it the time to pick up his phone and stare at the obscene drawing of Ground Zero and Y/H/N he was tagged it. (Yet, he found himself walking over to his sofa and doing just that.)

And it was definitely not the time to be tempted by the link to the “5 Hottest” fanfictions written about the two of you. (Yet, two seconds later, the curiosity--and horniness--won over and he there it was on his screen.)

“Don’t fucking do it,” threatened Bakugou, glaring at his reflection on the darkened cellphone.

But either he wasn’t as strong-willed as he thought or his logic was rendered completely useless whenever it came to you, because he found himself reading through a 20,000-word long story about a sex pollen quirk.

In the story, a villain with said quirk attacked you on the field and the only way to relieve yourself of the unbearable pain was-- Well…an orgasm. And for some godforsaken reason, Ground Zero was the only one able to provide you with that release.

It was ridiculous and would never happen in real life, and yet something about the writing made it impossible for him to tear his eyes away.

As Bakugou continued to read, a vivid image of you sprawled out underneath him flashed before his eyes and he stifled a groan. His throat felt dry as the Ground Zero in the story trailed kisses from the swell on your breast to your sensitive navel and lower still, hands firmly gripping your hips to keep you from squirming under the assault of his tongue as your fingers tugged at his hair.

“Y/N… Fuck,” he swore under his breath, his one hand clutched his cellphone as he continued reading on, while his other hand made its way down to his semi-erect member.

His touch started light and feathery, almost tentative in a way, as he ran his fingers up and down his length in repetitive strokes. As his cock hardened, Bakugou grew more impatient and increased the pressure around his shaft, thighs tensing at the sudden spark of pleasure.

In the story, he had just finished eating you out and, to return the favor, you dropped onto your knees in front of him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and he mimicked the motions, pretending it was your mouth around his head and not his own fingers.

Oh, how he wished it was your tongue instead of his own fucking fingers…

His vision grew hazy as his phone slipped out of his grasp, forgetting the fanfiction and picturing what you would do to him instead. Your eyes would be wide open as you peered up at him through your lashes, lips wrapped around his shaft as you took him deeper into your mouth.

As his thursts grew more and more uncontrolled, a low moan slipped out of him when he gently squeezed his fingers around his member one last time.

The moment he reached his climax, Katsuki’s eyes fluttered shut as his chest rose and fell in shallow pants. He was sweaty and flushed and sprawled out on the sofa, praying you would be there between his legs when he opened his eyes.

But of course, that wasn’t the case. And all Bakugou could do was laid spent on his back, wondering how the fuck he was ever supposed face you after that happened.

“Well, fuck…”

- - - - -

It was a Saturday evening and Bakugou and some of your other Pro Hero friends were supposed to meet up at your house, but that wasn’t what ended up happening.

Instead, the moment Katsuki texted the group chat that he was almost there, every single one of your friends began making excuses as to why they could no longer show. Deku had to babysit, Yaoyorozu had a last minute dinner date, Shouto was visiting his family… And the list went on, each excuse more pathetic than the last.

And so, that was how you and Bakugou found yourselves eating Chinese take out on your sofa while a shitty reality TV show played in the background.

“So,” you said, plopping a piece of steamed broccoli in your mouth and chewing slowly. “How was your day?”

He avoided your gaze, glaring down at his container of chicken and rice. The whole evening so far was filled with one awkward encounter after another-- Entirely his fault, he could admit. But he couldn’t help it! How the fuck was Bakugou supposed to look you in the eye and pretend everything was normal when just last night he jerked off to a sex story about Ground Zero and Y/H/N?

There was simply no way.

“I’m fine,” he managed, voice gruff as he almost choked on his words.

You stared curiously at him and he tried his hardest not to look your way. He knew one look into your eyes and he would be stuck wondering how they looked rolling back into your head as he fucked you senseless.

“Why are you acting so weird?” you asked, scooting closer to him on the couch. “Are you mad at me?”

Katsuki shook his head, pressing himself against the arm rest. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he would disappear into it.

“Then what’s the matter?”

You set your food aside on the coffee table and turned your body towards him, tucking your feet underneath your legs as you leaned forward. When he jumped at your brief touch, you studied him with unwavering intensity.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” you said, sticking your tongue out.

He winced at the sight of your pink flesh. God-fucking-dammit.

You pouted when he didn’t respond, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Okay, fine. I’m only kidding-- Please, tell me!”

“Nothing’s the matter,” Bakugou lied through clenched teeth.

“Sure. You’re acting like I was after I read all those--” you cut yourself off, eyes widening in realization. “No way!”

“What?” he asked defensively.

There was no way you could have meant that you read those obscene stories… Right?

A teasing grin grew on your face as you scooted closer to him, whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t tell me you did it.”

Bakugou jerked away, your close proximity and warm breath too tantalizing after the events of last night.

“What did I do?” he repeated.

“You know what.”

He had a feeling he did know, but he damn well hoped he was wrong. “No I don’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at his avoidance before nodding understandingly. Giving him a little more room, you leaned back against the sofa and folded on leg across the other. (Unfortunately for Bakugou, all that did was draw more attention to your exposed thighs-- Or, as the fanfiction called it, “a long expanse of smooth skin leading to a delectable center.”)

“Remember that one week around Deku’s birthday when I was ignoring you?” you asked suddenly.

He snorted at the memory. “Yeah. You didn’t reply to my messages for days and when we saw each other at his birthday dinner, you turned into a bumbling mess and tried to leave the room.”

To this day, Katsuki still wasn’t certain what exactly had happened that caused you to avoid him like that, but he has a sinking suspicion he was about to find out.

“Exactly!” you agreed. “I got flustered whenever you were around and could hardly think straight.” You turned your body towards him once more, crossing your arms across your chest and accidentally pushing your breasts up. (Not that he noticed.) “Me back then? That’s how you’re acting right now!”

His nose crinkled indignantly. “Bullshit! That doesn’t describe me at all.”

“Oh, really?”

He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hmm,” you drawled, leaning forward and giving him a clear sight of your cleavage. Bakugou almost choked on air at the sudden assault. “If that’s true, then why have you been staring at my boobs the whole time we were talking? And why does your vein look like its about to pop out of your neck from your overwhelming self-control?”

“And why are you spewing all these lies?!”

You smiled knowingly and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to wipe the look off your face with an explosion or with a kiss.

“They’re not lies. Do you know how I know that?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. There was no reason to argue any longer. “Hmph.”

“Because I was once in your shoes, too, young grasshopper,” you said serenely. Before he could get mad at you for fucking around like that, you continued. “I know you read those stories.”

This time, there was no almost-- He really did choke in surprise. You stared at him in alarm, moving closer to gently pat his upper back as he coughed up the fucking air. As if today wasn’t embarrassing enough…

“What stories?” he wheezed, trying to save face.

The word was such a vague term. It could have referred to many things. Maybe you got tired of hearing stories about how great of a Pro Hero Ground Zero was… No. That didn’t make sense even to him.

“Oh, come on. You don’t have to play dumb with me, Bakugou. You know what I’m talking about. And I know you’ve read them-- It’s written all over your face!”

Bakugou made an indignant noise of protest, but what you said next shocked him into silence.

“I know that look on your face very well… Because I’ve read them, too.”

He could only blink in response.

“After I read one, I couldn’t look you in the eye for weeks!” you said, shaking your head with an embarrassed, yet amused, smile. “When I saw you at Deku’s birthday party, I couldn’t even glance your way without thinking about ‘the beads of sweat framing your flushed face’ or ‘the way your red eyes darkened at the captivating sight sprawled out underneath you’.”

An angry blush invaded his cheeks and made its way to his neck and ears as the image flooded his head. Bakugou felt an uncomfortable heat as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. But nothing in the world could prepare him for what you were about to say.

“And don’t even get me started on your ‘big tiddies’,” you huffed, pursing your lips disdainfully.

There was one beat of silence… Two…

“My big what?” he forced out.

You shrugged drumming your fingertips along the couch cushion. “You know-- It’s what your fans call your pectoral muscles.”

If it were possible to die from embarrassment, Katsuki was sure it was bound to happen to him within the next few seconds.

First, you admitted to reading those lewd stories about the two of you. Second, you recited direct quotes about what was most likely his orgasm-face verbatim. And third, you were talking about tits while yours were resting comfily atop your crossed arms.

You tilted your head to the side, deep in thought. “Now that I look at them… They are rather big. I bet they’re bigger than mine.”

Well, if yours were anything like the drawing he saw yesterday, he would have to say you were wrong. Utterly and completely wrong.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Bakugou muttered under his breath as he eyed your breasts, only loud enough for him to hear.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

Shrugging, you brushed off his comment with a pensive look on your face. “Your fans’ description of your chest is so spot on, I’m beginning to wonder if the other things they’ve said are facts too.”

“What other things have you heard?”

“That you have a nice ass. But just one look at your butt in those jeans is enough to prove them right.”

Bakugou’s embarrassment faded away at the compliment. He did have a nice ass. And he damn well worked hard for it too. He puffed up in his seat at your praise while you rolled your eyes in amusement.

“Yours is pretty nice, too.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sticking your tongue out at his teasing. God, if he saw that fucking tongue one more time tonight… He wasn’t sure what was bound to happen. “You know what else they said? That you’re packing.”

Your eyes flitted downwards to his jeans and he shifted in his seat to subconsciously give you a clearer view. You made a quiet nose of surprise but didn’t back away, instead meeting his gaze with a darkened look.

Only the sound of the static from the forgotten television played as neither of you wanted to move and break the fragile moment. When you swallowed slowly, taking your plush lower lip between your teeth, Bakugou decided he was done with letting you have the upper hand.

“You know,” Katsuki said slowly, his voice so gruff it startled even himself, “I guess there’s only one way to find out if that’s true or not.”

The air was thick as you crossed and uncrossed your legs. “W-What exactly are you saying?”

Bakugou smirked. “Not so cocky now, huh?”

You puffed your cheeks up in a pout that did nothing to help Katsuki’s thinning self-control.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No, but a loud-mouthed asshole got on my nerves.”

He scoffed in laughter, taken aback by your blunt tone. Shrugging as you sulked, he warned, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, baka.”

“Oh, I can finish just fine,” you remarked with a challenging look in your eyes. “Don’t you worry about me. And I bet when I’m finished, you’ll see it won’t be like the lewd stories you’ve read.”

Tilting his head to the side, he met your gaze without backing down. “It won’t?”

“Nope. It’ll be better. Because it’s the real thing.”

“Is that a fact?”

With a mischievous grin, you leaned closer to Bakugou and craned your neck up so your face was mere inches from his. Using his own words against him, you replied, “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

And it was safe to say that, yes, the real thing was leagues better than the stories could ever imagine it to be.

[mrs-hollandstan]

Make Me Love You || Frat Boy!Tom [seven]

Warnings: language, more drinking & partying, skimpy dress descriptions, dancing with Scarlett, mentions of an erection, aaaaaaaaaand smut haha, 18+, female receiving oral- whoops

Word Count: 5,605

Author's Note: Don't come for me when you read this chapter, I couldn't help myself. But surpriseeeeee. Also, gif credits to the original owner and lemme know what you think. :)

Series Masterlist || Add yourself to one of my taglists

Tom's heartbeat pounds in his ears and he swears you can hear it, but yours is just as loud and that's all you can hear. Both of you are panting just a little as you mutually undress, eyes seeming to never wander despite the want to. Tom desperately wants to look down at your naked body. He dreamt about it for Christ's sake. But he follows you into the shower, watching as you turn to wet your hair, the strands of it clinging to your skin. He allows himself that moment to glance across your body, eyes lingering on your breasts that he's primarily seen in his backseat. But the real killer is your thighs. He doesn't know why, but the way they're pressed together as you rinse your hair of the day's grime has him captivated. Soft, beautiful skin, unmared and asking to be kissed, spread, held. You open your eyes, smiling at him, 

"Perv." He shrugs,

"You said I couldn't touch, you didn't say anything about looking." He reminds. You nod,

"And I'm not covering myself because of it, because I kinda feel guilty." You admit quietly, but Tom can hear you even if a train drove by. His girl shouldn't feel guilty about anything. He frowns, 

"Why?" You scoff as you lather your hair in the sweet smelling shampoo that Tom knows from nuzzling his face in your hair,

"You're like... notorious for sleeping around and you're not getting any from me." You tell him. He clicks his tongue, finding your soap and beginning to wash himself, 

"Aaaand, I'm not your usual American frat boy into peer pressure and date rape and shit so... you don't have to give it up to me."

"Yeah but-"

"Our deal was you make me love you and that doesn't include sex. That's deception." He jokes, smiling as you, mid rinse of your hair, open your eyes to frown at him, 

"I'm serious Tom."

"So am I! For once in my goddamn life, I don't feel the need to have sex with a girl to stay the fuck around." He admits, rolling his eyes. Your heart swells as you stare at him, eyes never straying lower than his stomach just in shyness. You near him, his eyes downcast to yours, beautiful curls now sticking dark to his skin, 

"How did I get so lucky with you?" You ask, eyes twinkling as they dart between his. He smiles, 

"I ask myself that every day when it comes to you darling." He replies. You smile, standing on your toes to kiss him, hands rested on his slippery body. You hum, his hands drifting down to your hips where they rest lightly, as if he's scared you'll yell at him for the contact. You smile, reaching up to thread your fingers through his hair, bodies pressed together as you deepen the kiss, steam encasing you. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him as you kiss, letting you draw back and stare up at him, 

"Let's... finish up, yeah?" He nods, eyes darkened in lust as you both hurriedly finish washing up. You shut the water off, slipping out onto the tile and binding a towel around your body, Tom doing the same before he scoops you up, carrying you back to your bedroom. He lays you back on your bed, unravelling the towel from your body and ditching his own, kneeling between your legs. You hum as he bows his head to kiss you, your arms wrapping around his beautiful, lean figure. He moans into you, teeth clashing and his tongue slipping into your mouth. You gasp, sliding your hands down his sides and arching your back as his lips trail down your neck, small marks being bit, sucked, and licked into the skin. You hold him there, arching your knees up around him until he raises his head to stare down into your eyes. Its then that the uncertainty and the fear associated with giving yourself up to him at this point and time kicks in, but so does the guilt. A few water droplets dot your skin from his half dried hair as he stares down at you. You lick your lips and shake your head, reaching up to brush your own hair behind your ears,

"We can't do this. Tom... fuck, I'm sorry but we can't-"

"Hey, hey, hey, you're alright, I want you to be comfortable with this and you're not. I'm okay with that." He reassures again. You sigh, placing your hands on his shoulders, 

"But you... y-you're hard, I can feel it, and it's not fair that you don't get to get off." You whine. He chuckles, eyebrows raising on his forehead, 

"Darling, I get hard coming out of my room in the morning. It happens. And beside, dream you has given me much more than I probably need. I've gotten off." He informs, watching a blush rise to your cheeks with an airy laugh before he rolls off of you. He sits at the edge of your bed, letting you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He hums, pressing the side of his face to yours, closing his eyes as you kiss his cheek, peppering kisses across the skin. Reaching for his towel, you dry his hair off the rest of the way, laying him back in bed and climbing over his legs. You hum as you kiss his chest like a few nights ago, a hum slipping from his lips as you look up at him, eyes twinkling again. You press a kiss to his stomach, 

"I'll prioritize and blow you." You mumble but Tom clicks his tongue and drags you up to lay beside him, pulling your leg up around his waist, 

"Tom it's not fair to you!" 

"I'll be fine." He growls, arm wrapped around your waist and hand placed on your hip. You hum, pressing your hand over his heart and your cheek to his shoulder. You sigh, letting him kiss your forehead, raising your own head after a moment, 

"I do love you Tom. Even if you're not ready to say it." He smiles, knowing in his heart that he's ready but with all the surprises you've thrown his way, he wants to have one too. So he'll wait because he knows whether or not he says it won't break your heart. You lay your head back against his shoulder, sighing. He rubs his thumb over your skin, letting you melt into him as he closes his eyes, letting sleep consume him the same way it does you. 

                                   ---

"Alright nerds, what're you doing tonight?" Ivey poses as she sits across from you and Tom at the table in the library. Tom doesn't look up as you cross your leg under you, clothed arm nudging his as he scribbles away at his English study guide. You look to him,

"Uhm, we were probably just gonna stay in and study for finals." You tell her. She hums as Harrison slides into the seat beside her, sipping his steaming tea. She looks to him,

"Well... kinda last minute, but Phoebe, Scarlett, Cole, and us were all going out to a club in downtown Seattle and we were wondering if you guys wanted to come." Tom grumbles beside you, but you nod anyways, looking to him, 

"I think I could use a night out." His eyes find yours after a moment, hand pressed under his chin still. You raise an eyebrow and he shrugs, eyelashes fluttering,

"You know I go where you go. Guess I'll be there too." He diverts his attention to Ivey who smiles,

"Great! You have to go with Harrison though so the girls and I can make Y/N very whore couture for you." She jokes, Tom snorting and rolling his eyes as he returns his attention back to his study guide on the table. You smile, nudging his arm, 

"We'll both be there." You reassure your best friend who nods and stands, wishing you both goodbyes before she leads Harrison back towards the dorms,

"What, does she have a tracker on you or something? How the hell did she know you were here?" He asks as you watch them leave, eyes lingering on the other students around you both, 

"No... I'm supposed to tell the girls where I am even if I'm with you. Just in case." You inform. He nods, letting you lean your arm against him, lips pressed to his shoulder. His eyes glance between your study guide and his own, finishing up the last few words in his chicken scratch writing before he sets his pencil down and sighs, looking over at you, 

"You're really making me go?" 

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to sweet cheeks, but I'm going. So if you want to be a sorry sap who stays home and watches Netflix without his loving girlfriend, you do so." You inform him, grasping his face in your hand. He hums, leaning in to gently press his lips to yours, 

"So you're making me go." You giggle, 

"Sure. Whatever you wanna claim Mr. I-play-the-victim." You joke. He smiles, letting out a soft chuckle, 

"So accusing." He mutters. You shrug, laying your head against his arm, looking over the filled in papers in front of you. He flexes his bicep to give you a more sturdy resting place. You huff, 

"What to wear, what to wear." Tom hums, 

"How bout nothing and we stay home." 

"Tom-"

"I'm jokinggggg." He says with a chuckle. You hum, laying your head back against his arm, 

"I think I know what to wear. What are you gonna wear?" You ask. He stares ahead, twiddling his pencil in his fingers, 

"Probably jeans and a sweater. You want somethin special?" You shake your head, 

"No, I don't want you to upsell me." You joke. He smiles, looking down at you as you start to stuff your notebook into your bag, standing beside him. He follows suit, letting you lazily hold his hand as you leave the library, 

"So I'll see you later." You state rather than ask, pausing at the top of the stairs. His eyebrows knit together, 

"You're not gonna let me walk you home?" 

"No, it's fine, the library is the same length from the house and the dorms, I got it." You reassure, standing on your toes to kiss him softly. He pouts, features never changing as you giggle, 

"Tom I'll be fine. And I'll see you later." You say with a giggle, kissing his cheek once before you take a step back, eyes lingering on him. You cock your head before turning and walking down the stairs, glancing over your shoulder at Tom once before you tuck hair behind your ear and continue down the path towards the dorms, Tom watching you go with a bruised ego and worry laced in his blood despite knowing nothing will happen to you. 

That night, Tom is fidgety, wanting to get the show on the road as Harrison gets dressed, seemingly as slow as he possibly can just to torment Tom. It allows him to think about how odd it is to want to see you so bad despite having seen you earlier. He's surprised by how odd it is to practically grieve when you're apart and be as antsy as he is now to see you again. 

Harrison breaks him from his thoughts as he sighs and turns to him, outfit and hair in place perfectly, 

"Done, ready you fucking div?" He asks. Tom nods before he practically rushes down the stairs and out to his car, Harrison following close behind, but still trailing, 

"Ya know… I think you bullied me for the same shit all those years ago with Ivey." Harrison remarks, closing himself inside Tom's already running car. Tom half sighs, half growls,

"It's been two years and this isn't the same thing. Most times I wasn't even dressed. You forced me out of the house like three hours early for no damn reason just to try and see her. I have a reason and its…" he pauses to check out the clock in his dashboard, "half an hour before we're supposed to meet up." Tom explains to Harrison who waves him off. They drive in silence, sitting at the curb of the club waiting for Ivey's car to make an appearance. And when it does, both boys climb from Tom's car and cross the street to meet the four of you. 

Tom steps up on the curb, breath dissolving into a mist as it meets the cool air and you climb from the car, effectively taking Tom's breath as he looks you over, a white, plunging neckline dress billowing from your body, a black velvet choker wrapped around your throat, and white and tan wedges successfully making you just Tom's height, if not a little taller. You smile, the streetlights catching the glitter dotted over the smokey eye you sport clouded by the messy, thick curls in your hair,

"Hey." You croon, closing the door of the car behind you, glancing down to step up on the curb, 

"H-hey. You look uhh… you look beautiful." He chokes out around his tongue. You smile, holding his hand that he holds out to balance yourself on the uneven sidewalk,

"Thanks babe. I told you I didn't want you to upsell me." He nods, smiling down at you as you smile, gloss glistening in the low lighting. You follow the girls and Harrison to the door, leaning back into Tom's chest as the bouncer IDs everyone. He wraps his arms around you, resting his cheek to yours now that you're too tall for him to rest his head over yours. Heading inside, he watches you turn when Cole comes running up in a black button up with rolled up sleeves and jeans, quickly joining your group once he's presented ID. He quickly kisses Scarlett before hugging you and bro hugging Tom, greeting the others before you all retreat to a table. You sit at the end of the bench, Tom standing just before you, 

"Want me to get you a drink baby?" 

"I'll go with, let's find out what everyone wants." Before you can fully stand and collect yourself, Tom has sorted out drink orders and Cole is accompanying you both to the bar, ordering, leaning against the countertop and glancing out at the dancefloor and then between you and Tom, 

"So am I gonna have to kill you for puttin your hands all over my sister?" Cole jokes. Tom smiles, looking to you and shaking his head as you bind your arms around his torso,

"I'm always being told to keep my hands to myself so... I think we'll be okay." He replies jokingly. You smile, leaning into him, 

"Don't worry Cole, anything that happens between us will be consensual. Tom is the perfect gentleman." You reassure your older brother who smiles and nods,

"I know. Tom is a good guy." Cole remarks before he stands up straight as the array of alcohol is set in front of you. Tom carries three of the four beers for your group while Cole carries his own beer and Scarlett's drink as you carry your own drink and Ivey's drink. Once back at the table, you distribute alcohol, Tom sitting at the very edge of the booth beside you as you all sip your drinks, just trying to loosen up enough to get out to the dancefloor. 

Once the group heads that way, Tom takes your hand, having finished his beer in record time, 

"I think I'm gonna fetch another one, do you want something else?" You nod, following close behind him. He follows you once you have your second drink in hand, taking your free one to not lose you in the crowd as you find your friends on the flashing colored dancefloor. Scarlett is already in Cole's arms, back pressed to his chest as Ivey and Harrison dance facing each other, her arms around his neck. Tom hums as he wraps his arms around you, your hips moving the same as your friends. You’re facing Scarlett and Cole, your older brother laughing as he watches you and Scarlett sing to each other. Soon enough, she steps forward and takes your hand, spinning you and allowing you to bend just the smallest bit, her hand on your shoulder as you grind against each other, Tom laughing as he watches. Cole, having stepped up beside him, mutters back and forth with your boyfriend who has a hungry look swimming in his eyes. But his eyes don't stay locked on you; they wander over both you and Scarlett. He likes the way you look with her, likes the way the both of you look as your dress rides up against her body. She's wearing a dress that's just as skimpy and he loves how sexy the whole situation is, but you miss the look he gives completely, lost playfully in her. 

Scarlett releases you, dragging Cole back into her by his arm as Tom's hands find purchase over your hips again. You wrap your arms around his neck, watching him sip his drink with a small smile. He licks his lips, looking you over with a dark look in his eyes, 

"I lied to you." He remarks. You hum, cocking your head with your eyebrows furrowing,

"What do you mean baby?"  You ask so innocently, it nearly makes Tom want to carry you out to his car and have his way with you any, and everywhere. He glances down, watching the way the deep cut in your dress reveals the ample flesh he loves covered in the same glitter that you and your three roommates are drenched in. He reaches up, one of your hands slipping to his waist, 

"I told you you looked beautiful but... I lied. You actually look really sexy." He rasps out. His accent has you weak in the knees, your fingers threading through the hair at the base of his neck. You search his eyes as he smiles, one corner of his mouth raised. You let out an airy laugh, 

"Oh yeah? What, did I not look this good at all those frat parties?" 

"No you definitely do. You're always sexy, but right now, I'm definitely having dirty thoughts about you." He admits. You giggle, letting his hands wander to your lower back, your hands pressed to his chest. You hum, running your hands across his muscular pecs, 

"If you can play nice for a little while longer, maybe I'll reward you." He lets out a dark chuckle, holding you close, 

"Promise?" You nod, 

"Promise." He nods, sipping more beer before he lets you turn, grinding back against him similarly to when you were with Scarlett. He holds your hips, laughing the same as he had earlier as you, Ivey, and Scarlett all sing to each other and act in the same manner as you do at all the frat parties. It sends a surge of nostalgia through Tom. That first time he met you, that first time you teased him and he knew that you were perfect for him. You were sweet, but you were sassy and he loved it. He wanted all of it for the rest of his life, he still does too. 

There's only about a half an hour that goes by before the girls want refills of their own. You follow just for the hell of it, Tom just behind you so he isn't abandoned by the group. As you stand at the bar, he clears hair off to the side, over your shoulder and out of his way to kiss your neck as you talk to Phoebe and Ivey. His eyes cut up to them for a moment before he tucks hair behind your ear, 

"Let's do shots baby." He mutters. You turn your head just the slightest, eyes searching his before they wander down to his lips and you nod. He orders two shots of vodka, lifting one to his freshly wetted lips, eyes rising to yours. You hold the small shot glass out, clinking it with Tom's and giggling when it spills just the slightest. He smiles before he throws it back, the same as you and slaps the glass onto the countertop. He watches you shiver with a smile, letting you lean into him, a giggle slipping from your lips as you lean on your toes to kiss him softly. He shakes his head, 

"You're crazy." 

"But I'm your crazy." You remark. He nods, shrugging softly, 

"Guess so huh?" You nod, smiling up at him, 

"Buy me another?" You ask. He raises an eyebrow, 

"You tryna get me wasted?" You giggle again, ordering two more shots before you turn to him, 

"It'll be better when you're wasted." You pose. He hums, lifting the shot glass to his lips with baited breath as he watches you throw your own shot back. He gently sets the shot glass down, 

"Ya know, drunk sex is a great way to get pregnant." 

"Who said anything about sex?" You quickly imply, sparkling Y/E/C eyes glancing up at him with a mischievous glint. He purses his lips as you press yourself to him, 

"Besides, I'm on birth control. I promise not to have your baby." You joke. He smiles, 

"Not yet at least." 

"Ooh, you planning our future together or something Holland?" You ask. He smiles and shrugs, 

"Never know. I like the way we sound and look together, ya know, Tom and Y/N, and I want kids someday. But I'd much appreciate if we graduate before we try to do that." You nod, sipping the beer in your hand. You hum as Tom plays with his own beer bottle, watching your group of friends all act accordingly with their partners. He licks his lips, 

"So uhh, w-what's my reward if I'm good?" He asks. You sip from your drink, eyebrows raising just a small bit, 

"Dunno, what do you want?" You ask him. He raises the unruly eyebrow, 

"Are you telling me that I've been good? And what, I get to pick my reward?" He teases softly. You snort, setting your beer bottle aside, 

"There's no reason not to give you the option. And... if we can dance a little more and maybe you can give all the right moves, I'll let you do something." You tell him, playing with the collar of his shirt with a sultry cock of your head. He nods, leaning down to kiss the soft, clammy skin of your neck before you take his hand and follow the girls to the dancefloor again. His hands instantly wander, your head drifting back to his shoulder. He kisses your neck again, hands placed over your ribs where they finally rest, a vice grip on your body as you rock back against him, your butt pressed to his crotch. You can hear him curse every once in a while, his hands slipping down to your hips, to hold you back against him. He refrains from reaching up to hold your breasts, desperately wanting to but not wanting to embarass you, wanting to keep his respect to Cole. You reach up to thread your fingers through his hair, 

"Baby," he poses in your ear, listening to you hum in response, "how much longer until I get my reward. I wanna taste you so, so bad." He admits, your heart leaping into your throat. You swallow, head turning further up to look at him. He stares down at you, letting you turn in his arms and drape your own over his shoulders, 

"Really?" He nods, glancing down at your lips, 

"Yeah, I wanna fucking ravish you." He admits huskily, leaning in to kiss your feverishly. You hold the back of his head, heart pounding in your chest. You can't say no to him. Not only is it is reward, you don't want to say no. You know you've made him wait long enough and he can swear up and down that he doesn't need the sex to stay with you, but you want to give him something. He's been good. When he pulls back, he stares down into your wide eyes before you nod and his eyebrows raise again, 

"Yeah?" You nod again, clutching his arms as he glances towards a semi lit hallway, 

"You want the formalities or is the bathroom good enough?" 

"It's good enough." You quickly pipe up. He nods before his hand slips into yours and he nearly pulls your shoulder from the socket as he drags you behind him towards the women's bathroom, pushing the door open to find it surprisingly empty. He hums in approval before he turns to you, releasing your hand to cup your face in both of his own hands. He leans in to kiss you, pressing your back against the wall, your hands holding his sweater tight at his hips as he kisses you with raw passion. 

Turning your body just slightly, he backs you into the handicap stall. Its moderately clean for a club, but neither of you pay it mind as he closes and locks the door behind you, his hand slipping to the groove of your knee to lift to his hip. You whimper into his mouth and he smiles, holding you tight to him before he grows impatient and his hands slip beneath the material of your dress, dragging your underwear down your legs, 

"If I were about to fuck you I'd have you bent chest first against this wall, underwear around your knees. It's so fucking sexy when your clothes don't come off." He admits, starting to crouch between your legs before you grab a handful of the sweater on his shoulder. His eyes meet yours and for a moment he sees your eyes swimming in uncertainty. He nods, rubbing up across your thighs, 

"I'll be gentle with you baby, you can trust me." He reassures. You lick your lips, nodding after a moment as you tuck your hands behind you. He smiles, rubbing up your legs as he tucks your panties in his pocket, taking a wedged foot into his hand and dragging it up over his shoulder. Your heart pounds, visible as it beats from your chest and he bows to kiss the inside of your knee. His mouth waters as he smells your arousal, kissing closer to your center, his hand slides along your skin leaving a trail of scorched skin in his wake. His dark eyes flicker up to yours as you raise your dress over your hips, needing to see all of him once he reaches his destination. His eyes are significantly darker, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him. He hums, drawing back for just a minute and licking his lips again before he reaches up, sliding a finger through your folds. The feeling of him touching you is intoxicating and he hums once more in satisfaction,

"So wet darling. God, what do you let me do to you?" He teases, dragging the tip of his finger over your clit before his hand drops into his lap and he leans in, wrapping his lips around your clit, tongue darting out to tease your opening. Your head falls back against the wall, eyes closing tight and teeth coming out to bite your lip. The hand not covered in your juices and resting at your knee to steady you, is placed over your ass, holding you against his mouth. You reach up, covering your own, letting out a whimper after a moment which Tom appreciates. He moans, pressing you further into the wall. The way his mouth feels, the way liquid courage in vodka form pumps through your veins has you suddenly not caring, letting out loud moans and whimpers, one of your hands holding your dress in a tight grip against your thigh, the other raveling in his hair. You give good tugs every once in a while, Tom letting out moans each time, cock hardening further in his jeans as he stares up at your blissed out face. 

He slides his hand up your skin again, slipping two fingers into your heat which draws a cry from your lips. Tom is pleased as the leg you stand on threatens to give out, his grip on you tightening. He groans as you give another sharp tug of his hair, drawing his mouth away from you as his fingers pump up into you in quick tandem, 

"Such a good girl for me. Fuck you taste so good darling, so wet, you like that?" He coos up at you. You nod, the hand previously occupied in his hair slipping up to palm your breast over the fabric of your dress,

"Fuck yes Tommy, you feel so good." You moan. He licks his lips of what's left of you, staring up into your beautiful features. He curls his fingers, smiling as you cry out again, 

"Fuck I would've loved to be your first, but all of this is fuckin amazing." He remarks, nudging his fingers along your sweet spot which sends a jolt through your body each time and brings moans and whimpers from your lips, 

"Tommy... please make me cum. I wanna cum." You beg. He nods, 

"I've got you baby, cum for me." He tells you, leaning back in to suck your clit back into his mouth after a moment. He runs his tongue over it, circling it with the tip of his tongue. You whine, knees trying to give out again as Tom's fingers speed up just the smallest bit inside of you, audibly colliding with your slick as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, your heart and head pounding with each move he makes. Your hips involuntarily move against his face, his chin effectively being soaked in your juices as he watches you. You moan, head falling back against the wall again as you near your high, every nerve ending in your body set on fire. He pulls back after a moment, 

"That's my girl, cum for me sweet thing." He tells you, driving his fingers faster inside of you. He leans in to lap at your clit some more, humming as your thighs quake and you bite the back of your hand to stifle a scream, 

"Good girl baby." He purrs, collecting all that you have to offer as you cum, hand grasping his shoulder tight. He bites his lip, watching you ride out your orgasm against his fingers. He draws them from inside of you, dragging his tongue across your folds once over before he sucks his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them of your juices and slipping your panties from his pocket to slide them up your thighs. He gives your ass a quick swat, molding the flesh in his hand as he kisses and gently nibbles the inside of your thigh before he stands, pressing you to the wall again and collecting your face in his hands, 

"So fucking perfect baby girl. God you're so sexy." He tells you, pressing his hips to yours as he leans in to kiss you, your hands grabbing onto his sweater. You taste yourself on him, tangy and sweet and Tom slides his tongue into your mouth. When he draws back, he lets you careen him back against the opposite wall, hands sliding up under his sweater to rub across his stomach, a part of his body he knows you love to feel up. You bite your lip as you grab hold of the hem of his jeans, your eyes dark, sparkling in mischief, 

"Want a blow?" He doesn't respond and you giggle as his lips turn up, 

"You're fuckin adorable. No, I don't want a blow, I'm okay." He says, leaning in to kiss you again. You hum, running your hands up and down across his stomach, 

"You're sure?" You ask. He nods, smiling down at you,

"Yeah, I'm alright. You looked fucking gorgeous though baby. You look fucking gorgeous." He tells you, watching you sort yourself out. You smile up at him before he follows you out to the sink, watching you fix your dress and hair as he washes his hands. You hum, leaning in to kiss his cheek as he scrubs, 

"How bout this, you do good in the game on Sunday, I'll blow you." You say softly in his ear. He smiles as he looks up at you, glancing down at your lips before you kiss him, 

"When do we get to the fucking?" He teases. You giggle again, standing back to let him dry his hands off, 

"The second you say you love me pretty boy." You toss back. He chuckles, tossing his paper towels into the trash can before he wraps his arms around you, your hands rested on his arms as he backs you from the bathroom, 

"Cheeky little thing." You nod, smiling wide, 

"But I'm your cheeky little thing." You reply. He smiles and nods, kissing you one last time before you sigh and take his hand, leading him towards your friends, 

"I'll let you take me home and we can get undressed and all." You present, watching Tom nod as he runs his hand through his hair, 

"That sounds amazing. It's about fucking time." You smile, leading him towards the front door, a cocky smirk on his face as he reached out to swat your butt once more for all to see. 

Permanent Taglist: @embrace-themagic​ @delicioustommy​ @spiderman-n​ @winters-beauty​ @smexylemony @lolabean1998​ @musiclover1263​ @xxtomxo​ @chillinjules​ @sincerelyfan​ @justkeepdreaminganddreaming​ @spnobsessedmemes​ @hazmyheart​ @saltysebastianstan​ @petty-geminii​ @motherhyuckerdude @counting-eyerolls​ @princezzariel​ @martinimendes​ @happytappy02 @lilya-petrichor​ @20coldhearts​ @random-fandomer​ @kalliria​ @im-tajah​ @celinelopez3​ @itsjusttor​ @popluckbih​ @obsidianspidey​ @takemetooneverlanddd​ @marshyrebelcloud​ @zabdisamor​  @marvelismylifffe​ @loveylangdon​ @inlovewithmobtom​ @tsh-darling​ @bangtan-serendipity​ @peterbeterbarker @bonfirelohve​ @meg-holland​ @localfangirlx​ @turtlee-says-rawr​ @sadbitchfangirl @th0ttie4tommy​ @w-jhxk-yj​ @thatweirdominic @mytonycinematicuniverse​ @chances-and-miracles​ @averyfosterthoughts​

Series Taglist: @maybemona​ @spideyyeet​ @princess-chocolate-drop​ @andreuskystuff​ @cxptain-capsicle​ @motherhyuckerdude @kthemarsian​ @heavenspidey​ @thenoddingbunny-blog​ @likeit-or-leaveit​ @packsforu​ @chaos-rising​ @gioandreolli​ @aiianovna​ @ohfxxkitsme​ @thehappygrungelife​ @littleros-es​ @oh-mymendes​ @no-no-notorious-writes​ @peteysbaby​ @000nova000​ @myheartismilesaway​ @stxfxniexreads​ @shutuppeter​ @dangerousluv1​ @popluckbih​ @gyllen-holland @hollywoodundeadgirl2​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @celinelopez3​ @kingjvngins​​ @lavender-writer​​ @im-fandom-trash​​ @loveylangdon​​ @complete-trash-101​​ @thenerdiverse​​ @gwsparker​​ @averyfosterthoughts​​ @i-fellinahole​​ @tragic4ngel​​ @imdrunkisuposse @mariemrose​​ @pcterstingle​​ @thatharrystyleskid​​ @mytonycinematicuniverse​​ @peterwhoreparker @itsrainingguppies @morbiddanvers​

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

You were part of SWAT, mainly partnered with Luca. Hondo always sent you two together. You were fond of the big blonde, often hanging out after work. When he comes into the squad room with a duffel bag.

“I need a room.” His blue eyes were tired, you could tell, but he still grinned.

“A room? Like a night?” You ask, eyeing him.

“I mean, yeah, a night or two.” He chuckles, heading to the lockers to change and get ready. You headed in and grabbed your uniform shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it.

“Well I mean, you can stay with me for a few days if you want. If you don’t mind dogs, of course. Achilles is pretty chill.” You smile, pulling on your work boots before disappearing.

The end of the day comes soon enough, Luca hopping on his bike, driving to your place. You invited him in, offering him your spare bedroom. The futon with a new mattress was enough for him, a smile on his face.

“I’m gonna start dinner, you got a preference?” You ask as you head into the kitchen.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks again for letting me stay.” He smiles as he sits at your island, taking the sharp knife from you and slicing the items for the salad. You went to work on the chicken, searing it on the dry frying pan. Luca chuckles, grabbing the pan from you. “Here, let me help you. First, turn this down, too high burns the outside, dries out the chicken. Second, pour a tiny little bit of water into the pan, keep the chicken moist.” He gives her her very own cooking show.

“Tell you what Luca, you cook. I’ll do the dishes. Show you a thing or two about scrubbing pans.” You smile, letting him take over and you head to the living room to turn on your stereo. Plugging in your iPod you play some R&B, Baby Bash’s ‘Cyclone’ comes on and you start to swing your hips a slow circle. Twisting your body in a circle as you grab the blanket off the couch and toss it to the chair. Luca watches with a smile as he watches your tantalizing hips as they swing in slow sensual circles, moving like an experienced dancer.

“Hey! Dinner’s done!” He calls as he makes your plate with chicken breast, golden brown, a baked potato, and a little salad, complete with silverware and ranch.

“Thanks. Hey! You okay after that fall today?” You ask, waving him to the couch.

“Yeah, I’m good. Tan was quick to make sure I didn’t sprain anything.” He smiles, taking a bite before landing on the couch next to you as you jam and eat. He’d been there multiple times and you fell in a comfortable silence, Luca disappearing only to reappear with a couple beers.

“My hero.” You gasp, clasping your heart and taking a big drink from the cold bottle. He chuckles, his arm resting against yours, sharing just enough heat to be comforting.

“Hey, thanks again. I know I can be a bit much for most people.” Luca murmurs, catching you off guard.

“What?” You ask, sitting the beer on the table with your empty plates.

“I’m a bit much. Too loud, too annoying, too much. Thanks for letting me stay.” He smiles before taking another drink.

“Dominique Luca, we’ve worked together enough that I’m used to you. Whoever said those things about you, I’ll cut ‘em.” You growl. He chuckles at your response. You supposed you and Luca were pretty close friends. He often hung out after work, and you knew just what to say to make him smile.

“Easy there, John Wick.” He laughs, slinging an arm lazily around your shoulder in a gentle, friendly hug. His arm was so warm and his presence was so comforting, so badly drawing you to him. You wanted to curl up against him and kiss his sweet pink lips. Shaking your head, you clear your throat and taking a drink from your beer.

“I’m serious, Luca. You’re a lot, sure. But I wouldn’t want to share this little apartment with anyone else on that team.” You smile, patting his knee as you take a sip from your beer.

Two months in, Luca was still sleeping in your spare room. You got pretty used to him living with you. Skipping into the house, you grab his doorknob, hearing a small whimper and then a loading thumping.

‘Oh shit!’ She mouths, backing away from the door. Jealousy struck her hard, thinking about how just yesterday they spent the whole day in each other’s arms laughing and surfing. He’d been teaching you how to board so you could join him at five in morning. Heading into your room and changing into a pair of denim shorts and a cropped tee shirt, you stuff your feet into converse and head out the door. Your feet carry you to a bar on Seventh, ordering a strong rum and coke. You pull out your phone, swiping through the pictures of you and Luca having fun doing various activities.

“Hey! What are you doing here? Isn’t it like, official Luca and Riggs hang out time?” Street crows as he walks up, sitting on the vacant stool next to you. You’d finished your third shot of whiskey by now, feeling warm and heartbroken over someone who didn’t even know how you felt.

“He’s currently banging some chick in my spare bedroom.” You spill, taking another shot.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry. He ditch you or something?” He asks, ordering a coke.

“No. I shouldn’t even care. But I do, man. I care a lot. He’s always been so sweet to me. And since he was teaching me to surf, I thought that meant-“

“That he likes you. Shit Riggs. I’m sorry. I could talk to him?” He offers, pulling out his phone. You were pretty drunk when you stood up, wobbling back and forth, grabbing Street’s leg as support. “Hey, let me drive you home.” He assures, helping you to his car and putting you gently in the passenger seat, buckling you in. “Hey Luca! You busy?” He asks into the speaker of his cell as he pulled up to your apartment building.

“Nah, why? What’s up?”

“Riggs is toast. She’s in my passenger seat right now. Wondered if you could carry her up the stairs.” He murmurs, letting you groan and grab his arm, cuddling against him.

“Yeah, shit. I’ll be down in a minute.” He appears at the door, worry in his furrowed brows. He pops open the door, scooping you so carefully from the car’s seat and carrying you up the stairs. Getting you through the door, he carefully puts you in your bed, pulling off your sneakers and covers you up.

In the morning, you were up and out the door by five thirty in the morning. Your smoothie in your hand, you were taking a drink when Luca came strolling up with a big grin.

“Man, you had a good night last night, huh?” He asks, nudging you with his elbow so playfully. You were a little confused but you shrugged. You weren’t in the mood for his Luca antics this morning. You had a hangover and crap ass attitude. He put on the boxing pads, getting into the ring. You took it entirely too serious. Your fists hit back and forth, volleying between his at hand over hand. You switched to left, left, right, then the opposite. You were so mad at him, you almost hit him in the face. You stopped, glove inches from his face, his blue eyes wide pools of fear.

Yanking off the gloves, you jump down from the ring. Your eyes meet Street’s and you two had a conversation with your eyes.

“What the hell happened?” Luca asks, eyes flicking between her and Street. Her eyes pleaded with the younger boy.

“Just mad that I got so drunk last night. Did you see that listing for the apartment at the adjacent building to ours?” You ask, pulling a folded paper from your duffel and stabbing it into the big blonde’s hand. He looked a little hurt. You disappear, changing your clothes into work shirt and pants.

“Hey, you want me to move out?” He asks as he steps into the room after her.

“Christ, Luca. I’m not talking about this here.” She growls, jamming her shirt into her pants and tightening her belt.

“Well, I guess I’m confused. I thought we were cool living together. I mean, we split everything. Isn’t it cheaper for you?” He asks.

“Yeah, sure. But you can’t put a price on privacy.” She hisses, eyes dark circles of anger. He was confused, had he done something wrong?

“Alright, sorry. I’ll be out by tonight.” He assures, turning pale and disappearing.

Luca saw Street and jogged to catch up with him.

“Hey! Can I ask you something?” He inquires as he takes a deep breath.

“What’s up?”

“Did she say anything at the bar last night? She’s so mad at me, and I can’t figure out why.” His fingers absently twiddled nervously.

“Mentioned something about a girl.” Street shrugs, kicking himself. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Oh. Shoot. She wasn’t supposed to be home until like seven. I figured we had time—oh my god. She likes me” He mutters, eyes wide.

“Yeah, I mean come on. She’s letting you teach her how to surf. The girl afraid of deep water.” Street chuckles.

“How’d you know about that?” He asks, narrowing his eyes on the young man.

“She mentioned it. At the bar.” He whispers, shoving the door open and a heading to squad brief.

At the end of the day, you head home without a word to Luca. When he got there, he found you slamming around the kitchen, making something to eat. With a soft chuckle, he carefully approached and grabs your hands. With a dark look up at him, you yank them away.

“Did you see the place on Tenth? Right by that beach you love so much?” You bite, shoving another listing across the island at him. He found it rather irritating.

“What’s your problem?” He asks, eyes begging you to tell him what he’d done. With a heavy sigh, he shrugs. “See? I always do this.” He mutters, heading towards his room.

“Luca, you’re fine.” You whisper, itching your shoulder before stalking to the living room. You started to pace the carpeted floor, making Luca dizzy.

“What’s wrong then?” He asks, softly.

“Nothing. It’s stupid.” You shove a hand in the air and roll your eyes.

“Riggs-“

“I think I like you. I mean, for Christ’s sake look at you.” You wave a defeated arm at his figure. He glanced down at himself, moving his arms from crossed over his chest. He found what he always found, a wide, broad chest, a white tank top, basketball shorts. He looks back to you half-confused.

“What does that even mean?” He asks, stepping a couple steps closer to you.

“What? Luca. You’re gorgeous. Holy shit. Something in my soul is always hunting for you. When we’re at work, I always look to make sure you’re in the room. When we’re here we spend every waking minute together. When I’m not with you, I want to be with you. When I’m with you, I can’t get enough of you. Those pretty blue eyes, Luca. They kill me. You kill me. I’d do anything for you. I’m sorry, I was just so jealous when I —“ He took a deep breath, grabbing his jacket and heading out the door. He needed to breathe. This couldn’t be happening. You, his closest friend as of late, the person he held most nightmares away from, had actually fallen totally in love with him. “Luca-“ He shuts the door, heading down to his bike and flying to the beach. The water lapped at his feet as he walked through the water, thinking about you. The way he loved when you fell asleep curled under his arm. He loved the way you smiled at him from across the squad room. He craved keeping you safe, your safety his number one concern. He found it comforting the way you played house so well together, you doing dishes and him cooking. As he took a step forward, he almost fell.

“Christ, I’m in love with her. Holy shit!” He runs to his bike, hopping on and zooming away to the apartment. As he tumbled through the door, he found your apartment missing you. He searched high and low, but to no avail. He groaned. You probably thought he didn’t reciprocate the feelings. You were probably crying somewhere. He felt his heart pound slow and heavy. He got to the squad gym to find you slamming relentless punches into the punching bag. He cringed, knowing you were probably imagining him. He crept up, careful not to scare you, and found your face bright red and puffy, cheeks wet with tears.

“Go home, Luca.” She whimpers, pushing at his chest, trying to get away from him.

“No. Listen to me.”

“No, please. I understand. I do, and I’m sorry for putting you on the spot.” You mutter, trying to leave the room. His arms trap you, holding you tightly against him.

“When I tell you, that I needed a second to think about everything you said, that’s what I needed. Christ, Riggs. You’re beautiful and so out of my league. I’m lucky just to be sharing an apartment with you. I’m so sorry for bringing some chick there. It almost felt like cheating, didn’t it?” He whispers, pulling your chin up to meet his sweet gaze. You gave a weak nod. “I’m so sorry for putting you through that. I just, when you didn’t come home that night, I was so worried. And finally when Street called, said you were passed out in his car. I was relieved. I carried you up to bed, made sure you were okay. I loved every second of it. I want to carry you to bed, drunk or not, for the rest of our lives. I love you, Riggs. I never thought I’d mean it the way I do, but damn. I love you.” He smiles, rocking you two back and forth. You were now grinning and crying. “I hope those are happy tears.” He smiles, swiping them away with the pad of his thumb before grabbing your face and kissing your lips. Right there with a dozen officers as witnesses, you two couldn’t find a better place.

“I love you too, Luca.”

[stoopsbookstore]

Countertop -M-

Synopsis- Seonghwa and Y/N are friends with benefits, who are too stubborn to admit their feelings for each other. A romp during a pool party leads to a jealous Seonghwa, Y/N getting tipsy and a countertop that should be cleaned.

Warnings- Sexual content, Tipsy sex, Unprotected sex, Jealously sex

Seonghwa was laying on the floor of his shared dorm room, the blanket on Yeosang's bed draped over him as he stared at Y/N who was pulling her shirt down, fixing her bra straps. The noises and shouts of a pool party hosted by the Ateez dance crew at the KQ clubhouse pounded through the door.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" Y/N reached for tbe doorknob, Seonghwa standing up his naked glory, "can you at least put on some pants?"

Seonghwa shrugged, wiggling his hips, his cock waving from side to side, "don't act as if you weren't just riding it."

Y/N rolled her eyes, annoyed by the clothes-less male who started looking for his boxers. He looked at Y/N, confused by the sudden coldness of the girl who was moaning out his name in pleasure.

"You know I'm joking, right?" Seonghwa pulled up his boxers, finally wearing a piece of fabric on his body, "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

Y/N turned the knob and walked out of the room, running into Yeosang.

"Hey, Y/N!" Yeosang waved at the girl who blew right by in, walking into the room and seeing Seonghwa standing on his blanket, "Dude! My blanket again?!"

"Not now, Yeosang," Seonghwa ran his hand through his hand, "has Y/N said anything about me?"

"I remember her and Hongjoong talking about you. If I remember correctly, she said she has feelings for you, but knew that you just wanted to keep it just strictly physical, so he offered to take her on a date," Yeosang pulled the blanket from under the older male's feet, throwing it in the hamper as Seonghwa threw on a tank top and basketball shorts.

"I only wanted to keep it physical because I didn't know if I had feelings for her."

"And now you do? Oh now that Hongjoong fucked her, you want her?" Seonghwa's jaw hardened at the wide-eyed boy's vulgarity, "you want her just because Hongjoong does?"

"They fucked?" Seonghwa seemed shocked, one of his dormmates and girlfr- friend with benefits fucked, "when?"

"When you went out with Sua and Joy and proceeded to try and have a threesome with them, Joy left because she doesn't hook up like that, so you just ate Sua out. In the bathroom. With the door unlocked," Yeosang gave a pity pat to Seonghwa, who looked at the verge of punching a wall, "Better talk to her soon."

Y/N had walked into the kitchen, immediately grabbing 3 of Hongjoong's legendary Bomb-Pop flavored jello shots, throwing back as the aforementioned male walked towards her.

"Holy fuck, girl, calm down! There's plenty of more drinks to try," Hongjoong handed Y/N a light green drink, a minty smell lightly whiffing in the air, "it's a mint julep, preapred by yours truly."

"Thanks Hongie, but I think I'm going to stick with a classic Bomb-Pop," Y/N threw another back, Hongjoong throwing his arm around her, fiddling with her plaid mini-skirt as she chugged the mint julep for earlier.

"Let me guess, Seonghw issues?" Hongjoong put his head on Y/N's shoulder, another shot going in her mouth, an attempt at one more shot Hongjoong intercepted, "You should take it easy now."

Y/N leaned on the counter, watching San and Sana battle Umji and Mingyu in a chicken fight, stirring the ice of the mint julep.

"My opinion, just do what he's doing," Hongjoong leaned on the counter, mimicking Y/N, "he fucks around and expects you to be waiting for him on your knees, mouth opened, legs spread, vibrator on your clit? No. At least when I fuck around, I never promise anyone anything."

Y/N elbowed Hongjoong, "At least you're honest about being a fuckboi. You fuck and leave."

"Unless it's you, then I'll cuddle," stifling a laugh, Hongjoong rubbed Y/N's back, leaning on her shoulder and nestling his head on the crick of her neck, lightly blowing on her ear, "I could help with some of the tension."

Hongjoong pulled Y/N closer to him, eventually leaning over her and rolling his hips, Y/N hiding a moan, "maybe it's just the party or the alcohol, but I'll be glad if you help."

Seonghwa hurried down the stairs, his feet stomping on each step as he ran by Sua talking to a boy he knows as Lee Know.

"Hey babe!" Sua grabbed Seonghwa's arm, "I've been looking for you, where have you been? I figured we could have a private party upstairs."

"Not now, Sua," Seonghwa brushed Sua's hand off his bicep, "have you seen Y/N or Hongjoong, preferably separately?"

Sua rolled her eyes, "Last I saw, they were getting touchy-feely in the kitchen."

"Outside or inside?"

Sua responded with a shrug as Seonghwa rushed to the outdoor kitchen, seeing his stepsister, Yuna, and her friend, Jeongin, mixing drinks as they giggled to each other. Empty bottles of liquor around the pairing as Seonghwa stole the one that Yuna was holding.

"Aren't you two too young to drink?" Seonghwa scolded Yuna as she put down a red solo cup in shame, "why are you even here? Don't you have homework due?"

"Jongho told us there was a pool party," Yuna flashed her puppy dog eyes, "can we please stay?"

"No, you're only 16 and I'm not going to be responsible if you get busted for underaged drinking. You two can hang out in the basement for now."

Yuna and Jeongin grumbled, admitting defeat as they walked through the backdoor as Seonghwa walked into the main floor kitchen, witnessing Y/N sitting on a counter, shirt pulled over her chest, head thrown back as Hongjoong started kissing her breats through her bra, his fingers under her skirt.

"Hey, what the fuck?!" Seonghwa shouted as Hongjoong and Y/N pulled away, Y/N jumping from the counter and fixing her skirt, "what the hell?"

Y/N grabbed another jello shot, throwing it back, not wanting to deal with Seonghwa's bullshit at this moment.

"Seonghwa, list-"

"Hongjoong, get the hell out," Seonghwa stared at Y/N as she went back to stirring a different blue drink, Hongjoong scurrying out of the room, "Really? Hongjoong?"

"You don't get to say shit, Park," Y/N sipped the drink, mimicking the tall boy, "Really? Sua?"

"Ok, listen. This sounds cliche as fuck, but Sua wasn't anything, she was literally just a fuck, something to get my dick wet," Y/N scoffed at Seonghwa, "I'm serious. I had to fuck my feelings out, not even fuck her, it was just oral."

"Oh, just oral! That makes it hurt so much less," Y/N clapped her hands together.

"You fucked Hongjoong! Hi pot, I'm Kettle!"

"I did! Because you did the exact same thing. Fuck a girl with nice legs or nice tits and then come back to me, wanting me to bend over backwards for you."

"I thought you bending over backwards was one of your kinks! You always seem so flexible when I fuck you, but maybe that's just because you've been humping Hongjoong, not even a goddamn fucking hour after you were just riding my cock!"

Y/N was stunned, accidentally knocking a glass on the floor, "maybe I wouldn't have fucked Hongjoong if you had just told me your true feelings? Or maybe I would have because you just want to sleep around?"

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't," Seonghwa looked at the glass, both parties feel horrible about what was said, "can we talk about this please?"

"I don't know, can we?"

Seonghwa walked up to Y/N, placing his hand on her cheek, both of them coming to their senses, "what if I told you anytime I fucked someone else, I was picturing you? What if I had to make sure I didn't accidentally moan your name out? What if I told you I'm a fucking dumbass who had to see someone else dry humping you to discover that I am madly in love with you and I'm dying to mark you up, so Hongjoong or any other guy doesn't fuck with you?"

Y/N looked at Seonghwa's face, sweat going off his eyebrow, she grabbed a festival summer colored napkin and wiped his face, seeing the sincerity on his words.

"What if I told you I love you too? What if I told you I wanted you to bend me over the counter, pull my tits out of my shirt, flip up my skirt and fuck me doggy style right here where anyone can see us?"

Seonghwa was shocked at the intense, dirty confession from Y/N. He pulled Y/N closer, spinning her around and flipping her skirt up, "I'm going to kill Hongjoong later. If I ever see him sucking on your neck again, I'll make him watch as I fuck you senseless."

Y/N pulled her shirt up and her bra down, exposing her breasts as Seonghwa pulled down his shorts, rolling his erected cock into Y/N. He moved Y/N's underwear to the side, pushing in with little resistance, thanks to the previous encounters from earlier in the day.

"I'm yours, Y/N" Seonghwa thrusted Y/N into the counter as she moaned, the music loud enough to disguise them, "thank God this isn't an open concept house, or everyone would see us."

Y/N grabbed Seonghwa's hands that were holding him up and moved them to her breasts, not saying a wors as she held them in place. Seonghwa's fingers making quick work of Y/N's exposed nipples as Y/N threw her ass back on Seonghwa's cock.

"I can't wait to fill you up, have you all to myself, making Sua and Hongjoong know we belong to each other," Seonghwa kept his thrusts in the beat of the pounding EDM music, the pleasure from their earlier tryst helping their high.

Seonghwa freed one of his hands from Y/N's grip, reaching under her skirt and underwear to rub her clit, biting down on her neck, leaving hickeys and marks as much as he can.

"Just a little bit more, babe," Seonghwa's thrusts started to lose their rhythm, pounding into Y/N as she started to shudder in pleasure, her high crashing as Seonghwa could feel her clenching around him.

Seonghwa felt his own orgasm releasing as Y/N kept pushing back onto him.

"Take every drop, babe. It's all yours," he saw the white liquid spill out of Y/N as she fell forward on the countertop, exhaustion hitting her from her second orgasm in a short bit of time.

Seonghwa reached for another napkin, pulling out of Y/N and wiping the mess from behind her legs, wetting the napkin so he doesn't irritate the sensitive skin.

Y/N gathered enough strength to fix her shirt and turn around, a sweaty Seonghwa caging her as he caught his breath. The pair looked at each other, wanting to say the first word. Finally, the loud silence was broken when Seonghwa spoke.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Do you think we can talk about this?"

"Yeah. I think we need to."

[catsandcoffee103]

A Villain’s Cat

Superhero AU

Senju Tobirama & Izuna Tobirama

Summary:

Uchiha Izuna and Senju Tobirama are sworn enemies, known for their epic battles as Villain and Hero. Never would anyone believe they know each other outside the battlefield. And certainly, never, could they be friends.

A cat changes all that. (Or did it?)

Izuna wasn’t expecting a visitor tonight. All his friends were out on the town. Of course they invited him- he’s the life of the party, but he rejected them saying he was sick. He wasn’t sick. He lied- he’s not sick, because he’s evil! Well, morally gray with ambiguous morals. He’s not evil- evil. He doesn’t kill kids and if any of his henchmen try to go for them little people, he’ll kill his henchman instead. And, of course, when he is forced to kill someone he’ll send flowers to the family of the deceased; he knows how much it sucks to have a loved one die. He also only pursues immoral acts to help who he thinks needs help most: kids, old, homeless, orphans, casualties of war, the one granny on the corner of Kiri and Konoha. Sure, sure, who’s he to judge? Well, he’s the man who lost three brothers due to pointless wars. Like hell he’d let that happen again.

So he was plotting. Scheming, coming up with his next great overly-dramatic and evil idea on this perfectly stormy night (it fits his evil-aesthetic), when he gets a knock on the door. He tried to ignore it, but it came again, more insistent this time, so he finally obliged. Marching to the door, he swung it open with enough energy to clearly show whoever dared bother him how annoyed he was, when he froze. Before him was his enemy. His arch nemesis, the hero of the newspapers: the law-abiding, albino, freak. The hero. His sworn enemy. He scowled, “You aren’t welcomed here, hero.”

“I know. I know. I’m only welcomed on movie night. But I have to come in, I need your assistance,” the hero, the Senju, has his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach- around a little bulge that almost seemed to squirm. The Villain’s eyes narrowed on that spot.

“Experiment gone wrong again?”

“No, Izuna look,” finally the Hero unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the secret. He slowly displayed a small kitten, fur matted with the rain and trembling from the cold, “Your house was closer.”

Izuna let out a sigh. He may be the Villain, but he was no monster. Stepping back, he pulled open the door wider so the hero could enter, “Just don’t touch anything, Tobirama.”

Tobirama, like the asshole he is, ignored him, deciding to sit on his couch. Wet. And pull out the kitten, who was also wet. His couch then, also, became wet. The asshole. Izuna let out a frustrated growl, slamming his door shut and marching over to the hero, throwing his hands up in a bout of expressive irritation, “What happened to not touching anything?!”

Tobirama pulled out the kitten. He held it up, as if the little shit was Simba, “Look,” And Izuna did. It was a mistake. The little shit was rather adorable. As the kitten dried, he became more akin to a ball of fluff than cat. He had big, innocent eyes, and little whiskers that were much too big for the tiny head. He squeaked, and Izuna’s black, frozen, heart melted.

“Ok fine. Just this once you’re forgiven,” he took the kitten and sat beside Tobirama, wrapping the cat in the loose part of his shirt to help him warm up “Get a towel and dry off. You can also borrow some clothes. Just none of the good ones!”

With a muttered thanks, Tobirama got up to grab a towel and quickly dry off before entering Izuna’s room to rummage through his drawers for a suitable pair of sweats. He wondered, idly, how it got to be like this. Once they hated each other, enemies out for blood. Now he knows where his enemies keep the towels; he pulled out Izuna’s favorite pair of sweats... and he knows which pair of sweats is Izuna’s favorite. He sighed. Whatever. Don’t think about it.

He put on the sweats and a large shirt, walking back out and smiling with some satisfaction asIzuna scowled at him, “Those are my favorite.”

“You’re just mad they look better one me,” he walked to Izuna’s kitchen, pulling out chicken breast and rice, “I’ll cook dinner for us. I’m sure the cat can have cooked chicken...?”

“His eyes are open. I think it’ll be fine for tonight. Tomorrow, after the storm, we need to buy proper cat food.”

“Kitten food, not cat,” Tobirama turned on the stove, heating up the pan to prepare for the meal, “Do you wish to keep him?”

Yes. Izuna does. He leaned back into the couch, holding the feline against his chest and watched as the baby fell asleep nibbling upon the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t care.”

A small smile graced Tobirama’s lips as he looked over. He can tell, plain as day, how Izuna has fallen in love. “You should keep him, I’ll just come visit.”

“It’s like divorced dads.”

Tobirama scoffed, “You say that as if we ever liked each other,” and perhaps they have. Or maybe they do. Tobirama is over at his house enough, and they have annual movie nights. Sometimes after bad fights, Izuna helps repair the damage he caused, and vice versa. He doesn’t know how, or why, but it’s...it’s nice. Just a bit. Their unspoken alliance: off the battlefield they no longer fight. They’ve become... friends?

Ugh, preposterous.

Tobirama finished the food, making a plate for him and Izuna- and the kitten- before making his way back to the couch. He sat beside his enemy, handing him a plate before leaning back into the seat. “I hope you know I’m staying here tonight.”

“Yeah, I do,” Izuna sighed, feeding the small cat a bite of chicken, then taking his own bite, “The cat gets the guest room.”

“Then I suppose I get your room.”

“What? No!”

With a scoff, Tobirama took a very pompous bite of chicken, “You are a villain, not a rude host. You wouldn’t make your guest take the couch, now would you?”

“If you’re the guest, yes!”

“Dick.”

They continued their meal in silence. As the time passed, so did their pettiness. Izuna slowly began to slump against Tobirama, and both of the men pretended not to notice. By the time nightfall came, and the dishes were discarded on the floor, Izuna was soundly leaning on Tobirama’s chest, and Tobirama had his arms wrapped around Izuna- to pet the cat, of course.

“I’m tired.”

“I see.”

“I’m going to sleep.”

A huff, “Then go to bed.”

Izuna’s eyes closed, “I’m in bed.”

Tobirama couldn’t help but smile, this man was ridiculous. “Alright then.”

Izuna, and the cat, fell asleep snuggling against a chest, in the arms of another man. Tobirama sighed- they also both snored. The hero carefully extracted himself, turning back towards the couch to pick Izuna up bridal style, careful to disturb neither him nor the cat. He carried them to Izuna’s room, tucking them beneath the covers. “Goodnight,” he crawled in on the other side of the bed, pulling Izuna back into his arms, “Sleep well.”

Uchiha Izuna and Senju Tobirama are sworn enemies, known for their epic battles as Villain and Hero. Never would anyone believe they know each other outside the battlefield.

And certainly, never, could they become friends.

[gaycrouton]

Omg PLEASE write a follow up to your pre-relationship fic but with RST! Dying!!

Ask and you shall receive! Here’s part one for anyone who missed it!

She hadn’t asked him to come over for movie night yet. 

Usually instead of greetings, Friday mornings began with one of them saying “My place?” and the other person responded with something along the lines of “Pretty Women?” or “Rosemary’s Baby?” depending on the mood of the day. 

Today she said “Good Morning” and he felt his stomach plummet.

He supposed masturbating into your partner’s bathroom sink might make them wary of hosting another get together. What if he didn’t wash it all out? Then poor Scully tried to brush her teeth and get ready for bed, only to see a big glob of semen on the counter top. She had to have known what the cause was. That he ran into the bathroom like a teenage boy and whipped his dick out after feeling her body on top of his, pressing a hand towel to his face so he could smell the traces of her on it while he muffled the cry of her name as he came. Did she come into work the next day and just see a cum stain on tile when she looked at him? A sexual deviant?

God, he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

But he knew that wasn’t right. As soon as he came down from one of the most intense orgasms of his life, realization dawned on him as the scent of sesame chicken wafted to him, followed by Scully’s timid voice calling out, “Mulder, um, the food’s here.” He knew damn well he scrubbed that sink and the surrounding area perfectly. Just like he knew Scully’d enjoyed their brief time on the couch as much as he had, evident from the flush in her cheeks and the way she squirmed and squeezed her thighs together while she ate her food. No one enjoyed fried rice that much.

But, as always, they said nothing. As soon as he came out of the restroom, it became obvious Scully had already made the executive decision that this, like the near-kiss in his hallway, would be tucked away. The only token he had to remind himself it hadn’t been a figment of his imagination was quickly drying on the front of his pants. He hoped the mix of their arousals left a stain.

Even he recognized that was pathetic.

They spent the rest of that night in near silence, minus some chewing and awkward goodbyes. The work week had gone on as if nothing happened, and now it was the day he’d been looking forward to more than anything. He’d finally get confirmation of it he fucked everything up or if they could continue doing this dance of sexual tension they knew so well.

And all he got was a fucking “good morning.” He hoped she didn’t think he was sulking, even though that was absolutely what he was doing. 

When five rolled by and she started grabbing her stuff, the offer burned heavy on his tongue, but he didn’t think he could take the rejection. He was glad Scully was stronger than him. “My place?” she asked in a pitch higher than he was used to hearing.

His eyes shot up and he had to try and avoid letting his lips split open to accommodate the enormity of his smile. “Y-yeah, um, Dracula?”

“The Bela Lugosi one?”

“Yeah,” he said hoping it was the right answer.

She smiled sweetly and nodded. “It’s a date,” she whispered as she turned and left the office.

Date

Four letters

One syllable

Two people

Noun: (1) a particular month, day, and year at which some event happened or will happen. (2) What Scully was saying instead of ‘movie night’

He called it a date once and she rolled her eyes and said partners didn’t go on dates. So what was she implying now?

He wore pretty much an identical outfit to what he wore last week. Call him superstitious, but if something about the way he looked caused her to crawl on top of him and writhe around, he was sure as hell going to attempt to recreate it.

Scully apparently was on the same page because when she opened the door she revealed a similar worn t-shirt and pyjama pant combo to what she wore last time. Same lack of bra too, his cock noticed. “Hey,” she smiled, opening to door for him to come in. He felt frozen in place as he noticed something over her shoulder.

She’d already ordered the food. She’d never done that before, and the subliminal message was deafening.

No interruptions this time. 

He thanked her gratefully and they sat on the ground by the coffee table and dug in, laughing occasionally at the melodrama of the movie. Despite his best efforts to be casual, his attention kept wandering over to the couch that seemed to be taunting him.

Couch

Five letters

One syllable

Endless possibilities

Noun:  (1) a piece of furniture for seating from two to four people. (2) the place in which he intended to make a move on Scully tonight.

A few times she caught his gaze wander, much in the way he caught hers. When the food was done and Dracula was hiding in plain sight, she stood up and sat on the couch, boldly looking at him and patting the seat next to her.

He didn’t know what came across as more desperate; the fact that he tripped over his own feet in his excitement to get to her before the offer expired or that he sat so close to her that the entire sides of their bodies were pressed flush together as they sank into the middle of the couch. He didn’t care what the answer was when a girlish giggle tore from her throat.

They sat like that for a few moments, awkwardly twiddling their thumbs in their laps. He was silently grateful he had the height advantage because he could easily watch her out of his peripheral without having to move his head too much. He immediately caught sight of her chipping manicure. It usually wouldn’t have stood out to him, but he distinctly remembered noting that she’d done her nails fresh this morning and he’s wondered what for. Now almost all the polish was removed in her revealing habit.

She was nervous.

For a second he feared she was nervous he would try something again, but the way she ground her pubic bone into his last week told him that it was probably the opposite she was afraid of. She wanted this. They needed this.

Then, in a move he hadn’t used since Ford was president, he slid his arm from in between them and draped it around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

He felt the surprise register in her body and he felt immediately foolish and wanted to pull it back with an apology. That is, until he felt her nuzzle closer into his side. Mulder hadn’t felt this giddy joy since he was a teenager.

They remained like that well over halfway into the movie, and he couldn’t remember a time in his life where he gave less of a shit about this movie. All he cared about was how warm and soft Scully felt against him, how wonderful her shampoo smelled, the way her body shook his when she laughed.

His fingers moved without realizing it as he raked the nape of her neck with his fingernails, feeling the way her silky strands wove in and out of his grasp. She let out a little hum of contentment as she leaned her head back into his palm. In this moment he couldn’t help but be reminded of a cat, purring under gentle strokes.

The fleeting thought was accompanied by other less than PG images of her purring under gentle strokes. Scully abruptly turned her head so that her face was in the crook of his neck, her hot breaths warming his skin and making his hair stand on end. 

Then she continued her journey of making him feel like a teenager; her mere breath on him had him pitching a tent in his pants. Worry spread over him like a blanket. This was irrefutable evidence right in his lap of what she did to him, not that she hadn’t felt it all before.

He was so busy focusing on his erection that he didn’t notice her stretch until her mouth latched onto the tendon of his neck, nipping at it with her teeth before sucking on it gently. He gasped and held the base of her scull firmly in his hand.

Scully’s lips were on his neck.

Then, as quickly as they had come, they were gone, and she sat back in her original position against him like nothing had happened. He glanced over at her in confusion, the fact his neck was still wet being the only confirmation he had that this wasn’t a dream, and saw she was smiling softly to herself. A self-satisfied, cocky little smirk.

He shuddered in arousal, and he couldn’t tell if this was a genuine offer or if she was using this as bait. Win-Win. “Are you cold?” she asked. Before he had an opportunity to answer, she grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it over them. “Want to lay down?” she asked, like last time hanging unsaid in the room.

“Yeah,” he replied, even he was shocked at how low his voice came out. He slid down the back of the couch and pressed himself to the back, giving her room to snuggle next to him. She wasn’t quite on top of him, but she may as well have been.

She wrapped her arms around his middle and snuggled closer to him, nudging one of her legs between his while burrowing her face into his chest. “Is this okay?” she asked, softly, her breath tickling his throat. He was sure she saw his Adam’s apple gulp against taut skin.

“Yeah,” he answered, sliding one of his hands under her shirt, palming the skin of her bare back. “Is this?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, pressing herself closer to him, not even hiding the way she rubbed her upper thigh against his aching erection. He groaned low in his throat and almost jumped in surprise when her delicate little hand started sliding under his shirt, playing idly with the coarse hair on his lower abdomen.

It was a gentle exploration they were doing. No guarantee of any future, but in this moment as long as nothing stopped them, including themselves, they got to touch each other in ways they’d only dreamed. Feeling a little bolder, he moved his hand to her side, feeling the gentle curve of her body from the side of her breast to her waist to her hips. Up down up and back again, enjoying the way her skin felt impossibly smooth beneath his fingertips.

One slide up, he took time to let his hand stay at the side of her breast, only able to feel the gentle swell under the bottom of his palm. He wanted nothing more than to move it to where he’d always dreamed, but frozen by the fear of pushing her too far.

He squeezed her side lightly as she placed a closed mouth kiss to his jaw. Then, in the most vulnerable voice he’d ever heard from her, she whispered, “P-please. Touch me.”

He craned his neck to look down at her and saw her big, blue eyes were slightly hooded, her cheeks flushed, and her cherry lips parted lightly. She looked exactly how he felt; aroused, excited, and scared as hell. 

Now with her permission, he slid down the valley of her body and cupped a full, luscious breast in hand, kneading it in exploration while letting his thumb stroke her nipple softly.

Her eyes fluttered shut at the contact as a small “oh” left her mouth. She arched her back, desperate for more contact and she undulated her hips against his. “God, please,” she whispered as his cock stroked over her pubic mound back and forth. He didn’t know what she was asking please for, but he’d give her everything he had to offer, anything she wanted.

He used his strength to shift them so he was on his back and she was on top of him again, a visual he’d become acquainted with every night this week, though it was never quite the same when her couch was replaced with his and she was replaced by his hand and an active imagination.

He dropped his hand and grabbed at the hem of her shirt asking a silent question. She smiled down sweetly at him and grabbed at the hem of her shirt with both hands, ripping it over head and throwing it to the floor haphazardly. He noticed her face had turned beet red, and he had an inkling it wasn’t just from arousal. She was avoiding eye contact now, and when she did she quickly flitted it away.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever seen Scully so nervous. Especially when she had no reason to be. She was flawless, like a marble statue come to life. Aphrodite in the flesh. Her breast were taut and his hands itched to feel their weight again. But first he rocked forward so that he was sitting up too, Scully still in his lap. He grabbed her chin delicately and tilted her face up to his. “Scully, you are so beautiful,” he murmured, hoping he could rid the lust from his voice long enough for her to hear the sincerity behind his words.

Her eyes focused on him with so much intensity he felt fixed to the spot. She raised her hands to his shoulders and he could feel her trembling against him. “I’m so nervous,” she admitted with a shaky laugh.

He brushed a strand of her mussed mane behind her ear and held her gaze. “We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I’m sorry if I was being push-”

“No,” she interrupted. He closed his mouth and watched her for a moment, drinking in everything about her. This felt like the closest he’d ever get to being in a confessional booth and the importance of this moment was almost overwhelming. “I want this,” she smiled, cupping his cheek in her hand.

“Me too,” he boyishly chuckled, nuzzling his five o’clock shadow against her palm.

He saw her eyes dart down to his mouth and he felt like he saw the courage building within her focus. She slowly started to close the distance between them and it was the most torturous moment of his entire life. He felt like every cell in his body was going through a decades’ long withdrawal, desperate to be reunited with what made him whole regardless of the fact he’d never experienced this with her before.

That didn’t matter though, because as soon as her lips touched his he felt like every shitty thing that’d happened to him was worth it if it led up to this moment in time: sitting on Scully’s worn couch with her in his lap as she gave him the world’s most precious gift. Her tongue licked at his bottom lip playfully, asking for entrance. He opened his mouth against hers immediately and he’d never tasted anything more divine in his entire life.

While their tongues explored the new territory, Scully started rocking back and forth from her perch, rubbing herself up and down his length which was almost painful from being compressed in his jeans. She was thrusting against him with so much vigor, his back hit the arm rest, pinning him with her movements.

He could feel the peaks of her bare breasts prodding at him through his shirt and suddenly he felt way too overdressed. Scully must’ve had the same thought because she broke the kiss to grab the hem of his shirt and help him strip. Then, in their mastered synchrony, they stood up and quickly discarded their bottom halves until they stood naked in front of each other.

“Wow,” she breathed as she took in the sight of his exposed cock. 

Now it was his turn to be nervous. He let out a nervous chuckle and scratched his head to keep his hands from covering himself up. She noticed his shift in demeanor and strutted towards him with a sexy smile. “I mean wow in the best way possible, Mulder.” He smiled in response, comforted by her words, so she offered him a few more. “Wow, you’re bigger than I imagined. Wow, how is it going to even fit? Wow, I can’t wait to feel you inside of me,” she whispered huskily, bringing herself on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck.

He groaned upon hearing words like that come out of Scully’s mouth and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her closer and reveling in the way their skin felt without barriers separating them. “You have no idea how much the sentiment is reciprocated, Scully,” he replied, grabbing her legs and hoisting her up so that she was wrapped around him.

“Sit on the couch,” she commanded, and he followed her instructions immediately, eager to please.

He sat down, his back flush with the back of the couch as Scully adjusted herself on her knees to align their arousals. He jerked when he felt her hot sex come in contact with his, suppressing the urge to buck up into her. She got into perfect position, all she would have to do is sink down. She rested her hands on his shoulders and he rested his on her hips, not breaking their heavy eye contact. “Ready?” she asked.

He nodded in blissful happiness and resisted the urge to let his eyes snap shut as she sank down on top of him. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” she groaned.

She came to a slight pause as she reached his hilt and she spend sometime adjusting to the intrusion. In this moment, he didn’t think he could ever be happier. Seven years. Seven years, and they were finally here. He felt his throat start to close up, overwhelmed by emotion, and from the way Scully’s chin was quivering, she felt it too. 

She placed one hand under his chin and pressed her lips to his in a sweet kiss. One of the most meaningful gestures he’d ever received. Before he could deepen it, she backed away and started raising herself up and down on her knees, plunging him in and out of her warmth. “You feel so good,” he whispered, sinking down a bit into the couch and gripping her hips tighter, mesmerized by the bouncing of her breasts, the way her crimson hair seemed to glow under the soft lights, how piercingly blue her eyes looked as she focused on him.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she moaned, adjusting her angle so that her clit ground into her pubic bone. He used his feet to raise himself up a bit so she had leverage to help her, bucking up into her with a desperate rhythm. 

It’d been a while for him too, so he already could feel his orgasm building up but he’d sooner die than come after only a few minutes of being inside her. He was determined to make her come before him. He licked the pad of his fingers and shoved them towards the apex of her thighs and found the ruby knub he’d dreamed of. 

Scully whimpered and started gyrating his hips towards his hand. “Yes,” she inhaled between clenched teeth, her brow furrowing as she focused in on her own pleasure. He picked up the pace with both his fingers and his thrusts and he felt her start to lose her rhythm, instead becoming haphazard as she chased her orgasm.

After one particularly deep thrust, she sank down on him, looked into his eyes, and came hard around him. Her jaw dropped open as her body shook and he swore it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Her inner muscles were spasming tight around him and he was coming with her with so much intensity it was almost blinding.

When the shuddering subsided, she collapsed onto him and caught her breath. Still eager to touch her, he raised his hands up and stroked her spine soothingly. “I swear I can last longer,” she laughed against his collarbone.

“Hey, that’s my line,” he chuckled.

She leaned back and looked at him with pure adoration before pressing another kiss to his mouth. One of the first of thousands.

[niallismymuse]

Chapter 7

For the second time in barely a week, Tessa moped around her apartment for two whole days. It irritated her, but she couldn’t seem to force herself out of the slump; and it sure as hell irritated her new roommate Leah. When she came home after work to find that Tessa hadn’t moved from her spot on the couch, plopped right in the center with a pink blanket draped over her head, Leah finally snapped.

“Girl, what the fuck is going on with you?”

Tessa scrunched her face up, lifting her chin up defiantly. “I’m sulking.”

Leah threw her hands up in the air. “Yeah, I understand that. But why.”

Tessa nestled herself further into the blanket nest she had made on the couch these past two days. She had accumulated quite a few blankets, but this pink one draping over her was by far her favorite. It was the softest and the cuddliest. “I had a bad night the other night.”

“Yeah, I remember, Tessa. You came home from Hamilton and went straight to your room without saying a word, but I could see the mascara streaks. Stop making me pull this out of you and just tell me. As your roommate, I command it.” Leah settled down on the couch beside her, shoving over some blankets to sit more comfortably.

Tessa huffed out a dry laugh; she really had won the lottery with this one. Even though Leah was now harassing her about her problems, she was thankful for her. So, without looking at her, Tessa told her everything, starting with information from months ago to give her the whole story: how Jess had moved out, and she had met Niall at the party Jess and Lyrica threw. How while she and Niall had grown closer, she and Jess had drifted apart. Having a crush on him for the longest time, and all of the shenanigans that had gone on at the cabin, including the nasty words Jess had uttered – and then she caught Leah up with what had happened before and after Hamilton, and how crushed she was because of it.

Leah whistled lowly under her breath. “Well, damn. You’ve had quite the busy new year.” She shot Tessa a reproachful look. “Didn’t I ask you before I moved in if there was any drama happening?”

Tessa shrugged sheepishly. “I was over the situation with Jess when you moved in, almost. The shit with Niall just happened. Technically, I didn’t lie to you.”

Leah chuckled lowly and shook her head. “I guess you’re right. And that’s okay. I don’t mind. I actually like you, so I don’t mind helping you out. Now look at me, Tessa.” Tessa shuffled herself sideways in her blankets to face her, watching as Leah flipped her light brown waves over her shoulder and stared at her directly in the eyes. “Niall is a dick.”

Tessa’s lips parted, and then she frowned. “Well, I don’t really –“

“Shush. He’s a dick. From everything you’ve told me, it sounds like he doesn’t want the drama of being in a relationship with you. He doesn’t want the publicity, because hey, you’ve got it. I was wondering why I saw your name trending briefly on Twitter the other, but I guess it was because you were spotted with him at Hamilton.”

Her brows furrowed together. She hadn’t looked at her phone since she had gotten home from Niall’s; she had tossed it into her dresser, actually, and it had probably died by now. Also, it kind of sucked that she only seemed to trend when she was spotted with Niall, but that was a problem to worry about at a later date.

Leah continued on. “And I don’t know what demons that man has about relationships and publicity, but if he was worth your time, he would have seen that you are totally and completely worth all of that hassle, Tessa. You’re an amazing woman, and not a bad roommate, except when you’re taking up the entire couch with your sadness. Now get your ass up, go take a shower, and come grocery shopping with me.”

Tessa blinked slowly, and then sighed as she sat up and squared her shoulders. “I am Tessa Love Jenkins, and if he doesn’t want to deal with the publicity our relationship would cause, he doesn’t deserve me.”

Leah clapped and nodded her head once in approval. “That’s right, girl.” Then her nose wrinkled up. “But seriously, go take a shower. You stink.”

Tessa genuinely laughed then and shook off all of the blankets before tossing them at Leah, who yelped and shoved them off. “Thanks, Leah. You’re the best.”

“I know, I know,” Leah muttered, dusting herself off before looking up and shooing her away. “Now go shower, I’m hungry. Also, you need to put these blankets in the wash.”

“As long as we get some chocolate cake, I’ll be glad to go,” Tessa called over her shoulder as she padded down the hallway, her bare feet slapping down lightly on the wooden floor. The blankets could wait. She retrieved her phone from her dresser first and plugged it in before going into the bathroom to shower. She caught a whiff of herself as she tugged her tank top off and nearly choked – yeah, Leah was right, she did stink. Going without showering for two days wasn’t good for her BO.

Despite the fact that she knew Leah was impatiently waiting for her to get ready, Tessa took her time. With every scrub of her loofah across her body, she wiped away all of her troubles. As she cleaned herself off, she cleared her mind, and reminded herself that if someone didn’t want her, they didn’t deserve her. And by the time she had finished showering, she felt newly-made.

Of course, it wasn’t that easy. As soon as her mind began to wander once again, she wondered about Niall and all of the reasons why he would lead her on like that. Except this time, she wasn’t sad about it. She was getting properly angry.

“The nerve of that asshole,” Tessa growled as she marched out of her room, dressed and ready to go. She snatched her purse from its spot on the end table by the door and swung open the door. Leah watched her; one eyebrow was raised. “Who does he think he is, acting like that?”

Leah didn’t answer, but she definitely listened as Tessa ranted and raved about all of the injustices Niall had done her. She didn’t list any of the good things – didn’t mention the flowers he had bought her once– because she still felt confused about why he did those things if he was only going to reject her. But it felt good to just actively complain instead of mope around.

Leah didn’t seem to mind; she merely looked bemused as she drove the two of them to the closest Trader Joe’s.

Tessa couldn’t help muttering one last thing as they walked inside, “And you know what? I really liked Hamilton, and now I won’t be able to enjoy it without remembering how my night was ruined.”

Leah chuckled to herself as she grabbed a basket. “We’ll find some other musical for you to enjoy. Now quit whining, let’s get this shopping done.”

Tessa rolled her eyes and huffed. “Aye aye, captain.”

They wandered through the store, picking up groceries. Tessa wanted to cook a nice meal for dinner to cheer herself up, and after debating with Leah for a few minutes on what they wanted, they decided on chicken parmesan, and Tessa would make a chocolate cake from scratch for the dessert. It would be a nice roommate-bonding activity.

And honestly, Tessa felt better once she had gotten out of the apartment. She still felt very bitter about everything that had happened, but she knew she would be okay, and that one day, she would be able to let it go. Today was not that day, and that was fine.

Once they were back at the apartment, Tessa let Leah pull up a recipe to make the parmesan chicken, even though she knew how to make it herself. But she had a chocolate cake to bake, and she couldn’t control everything, so she took a deep breath and began making the batter.

This chocolate cake was going to have crushed M&Ms and Reese’s cups inside of it, a ganache coating on top, and more crushed candy on top of that. It was definitely a ‘getting-over-someone’ sort of cake, and Tessa planned on eating at least two thirds of it herself. It was going to be fucking delicious.

Leah hummed as she breaded and fried the chicken breasts, and as she boiled the thin spaghetti noodles. Tessa resisted watching her every move, let her shoulders slump, and focused on making the best damn cake she could.

And it turned out to be a good time for the two of them. Eventually Leah started humming a song that Tessa actually recognized, so she began to sing along, which gravitated towards a singing competition between the two women as they prepared their specific dishes. With the singing competition came laughter.

Tessa put her cake in the oven after Leah was finished using it, put the oven timer on for roughly twenty minutes (she liked to check after a certain amount of time to figure how much longer it would bake) and then set the table.

Leah grinned as she brought out the nice platter Tessa had dug out, full of food. She set it down – on it were six chicken filets, fried and covered in sauce and cheese. In bowls beside it were the spaghetti noodles and steamed vegetables. Tessa picked out two nice wine glasses and popped a bottle, setting it on the table between their spots.

It was a meal to be proud of.

Tessa served herself and took a bite. “This is really good, Leah!”

Leah snorted as she mashed her noodles lightly with her fork. “You don’t need to sound that impressed.”

Laughing, Tessa poured herself a quarter glass of wine. “Take it as a compliment.”

Leah stuck her tongue out, and the evening carried on quite nicely. The dinner was delicious, and once the cake was cooled and the ganache was poured over it along with the candy, they had dessert. Tessa and Leah talked and laughed, drank wine and ate cake, and got more than a little tipsy. It was the happiest she had felt in a long time, and throughout the entire event, she didn’t think of Niall once.

Everything was going to be just fine.

✩✩✩

Or at least, Tessa sure hoped so. As time went on, she tried her hardest to move on and to get out of the apartment more, away from work. It was hard sometimes – she had always felt very strongly that if she wasn’t working on improving her channel in some way, whether it was planning out new videos, recording or editing, she wasn’t working hard enough.

But she had lost a bit of that, since Niall. She had always been willing to put work aside for him; now she needed to put work aside for her.

It worked in a rather funny way, because she both didn’t work as hard and worked much harder. On one hand, she did try and leave the apartment more often. That led to her running into more fans, which was awesome. She never minded that. On the other, when she was working on her channel, she focused wholeheartedly on it. Her brain was firing out new video ideas left and right, and it was all she could do to write them down and focus on what she was currently working on.

Not only that, but she found out that she could go to VidCon this coming summer. It would be announced later on in the year, but she had to come up with a piece for her set. Tessa wasn’t even sure exactly what she was going to end up doing – most likely a panel and a meet and greet, since she wasn’t quite big enough to have something more complicated.

Yet that wasn’t all, either. Tessa had decided she wanted to put on a charity livestream and raise money for an organization a while ago, but now she was making sure it would be happening. Everything needed to be done for that still, including what would happen during the livestream and, oh yeah, what organization she wanted to donate to. Definitely one related to the oceans and oceanic support. Maybe she would check into what organizations David Attenborough contributed to or supported.

Leah had said that she would take that day off and help her record – Tessa thought she might do a cooking portion and show off her all-time favorite recipe, and obviously she would need help filming that. She would just need to teach Leah how to use the camera properly, maybe go over some fake shoots to help her learn.

It was a lot. In fact, Tessa was surprised she could even sleep at night, her brain was so full of activity. But it helped her move on – she had less time to dwell on the past, and with that came a sense of peace with what had occurred. She wasn’t thrilled with what had happened, but she could accept that it did.

Not that she didn’t occasionally think of Niall. In the beginning, that was all Tessa really did. She thought about him all the time and wondered if he thought about her. She even stalked his social media feed to see if she could perceive any hidden messages, but of course she couldn’t. That was ridiculous, and that half-hidden hope is what finally convinced her to leave it be.

Now she still followed him on Twitter and Instagram – because everyone would notice if she suddenly didn’t, and she was too tired for that drama – and occasionally saw his tweets or posts there. Tessa didn’t reach out, and neither did Niall.

It was fine. Everything was fine.

One late afternoon, Tessa was sat at the dining room table, typing away on her personal laptop. She used the desktop in her room to upload and edit videos, since the storage amount was much higher. This laptop was for travelling purposes and occasionally for typing scripts, if she didn’t feel like sitting at the desk in her room. As bright and cheerful as she tried to make her personal space be, it could get kind of gloomy sitting in there all the time.

Tessa propped her legs up on the chair opposite hers and sighed. Watery sunlight filtered in through the light blue curtains that adorned the windows in the living room. It was a little chilly inside – it was early February, so the air still had a bite to it in LA most days, but it heated up enough in the middle of the day to keep the AC on.

Leah was working and closing tonight, so she wouldn’t be home until after midnight since her Starbucks closed at 11. Tessa had gotten used to Leah’s schedule; she already planned to put some leftovers from dinner on a plate and stick it in the fridge, so Leah could eat when she got home.

The TV wasn’t on. There was nothing but silence and the occasional clacking of her typing. The lack of noise irked her for some reason. Normally the TV was on, or Leah was lounging on the couch and complaining about her coworkers. But Leah wasn’t home, and she didn’t feel like listening to the idle chatter of the television. Maybe she should call her mother and listen to her chatter for background noise. That would fill up the apartment for sure.

Tessa sighed once more and frowned at her laptop, and at the script in front of her. Her brows furrowed. The script didn’t seem right. It was supposed to be about college and some of her own experiences, but nothing was clicking in her brain – maybe this idea was a dud. It happened. But she couldn’t seem to let it go, so she forced herself to keep typing, even though she was convinced that the more she typed, the more gibberish appeared on the page.

Someone knocked on the door. It was a light, timid sound, almost as if the hand that made it didn’t want to be knocking.

Lifting her eyebrow, Tessa stood up and shut her laptop. No one was supposed to come over today, and Leah would have texted if she had gotten off early. That and she had her own key. So, who was at the door?

Hope had her heart thumping just a bit faster. Maybe it was Niall, come to apologize and beg for forgiveness.

That was a ridiculous thought, but Tessa kept it close as she meandered over to the door and swung it open.

It was Jess.

That hoped swelled and burst like a popped balloon, deflating faster than it had any business to. “Oh,” Tessa said, disappointment coloring her voice, “it’s you.”

The words were harsh, and she didn’t apologize for them, though Jess did wince. “Ouch,” she replied, voice soft, but it was obvious she knew that she deserved it by the way she didn’t bite back. In fact, Jess looked awful – her eyes were tinged red and swollen, as if she had been crying. Her lips were chapped and pouted, and her normally perfectly-styled brunette waves were greasy and held up in a messy bun. “Um. Hi.”

Tessa leaned against the doorway and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel with her ex-best friend standing in front of her, but she felt a lot of nothing currently. “Hi.”

Jess wrung her hands together, fingers twisting and interlocking before pulling apart and starting over again. “Um. Lyr and I have been fighting lately, and I just…I couldn’t stay at the apartment. I needed to get out. But I had nowhere to go, and…”

“And so, you came running back to me,” Tessa finished icily for her, ignoring the look Jess gave her, a mix of reproach and sorrow.

“I guess I did. I know we’re not on the best of terms, but I was wondering if I could stay here for a few days, in my old room.” Jess looked up through her lashes at her, and for the first time since Jess had arrived, Tessa felt a spark of anger.

“Well, Jess, your old room is currently not available. I have a new roommate, Leah.” Tessa told her and felt a bitter satisfaction at how crushed she looked. Had she been hoping that Tessa would just keep that room empty, in case she came back? That was shitty. But the more she looked down at the pathetic form of her old friend, the more pity she felt. “But you can come inside for a while.”

Without another word, Tessa stalked inside, not even caring to see if Jess followed. She could hear her tentative footsteps well enough to know that she had. Tessa snatched her laptop from the dining room table and headed towards her bedroom, pausing long enough to mutter, “make yourself at home,” over her shoulder before closing her door behind her.

Tessa exhaled sharply and sat down hard on the floor, right by the door she had just definitely shut. This was too much. Nausea swirled in her stomach. Barely twenty feet away was the woman she had cried over, the woman she had missed so much. The woman who had hurt her, pretty badly.

Yeah, she might go throw up.

Tessa wasn’t a confrontational person, but she also wasn’t a non-confrontational person, falling somewhere in between. And as she sat there on the chilled wooden floor, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on her work with the knowledge that Jess was sitting in her living room.

After giving it a few more minutes – she really didn’t want to do this – Tessa crawled up off of the floor and pulled her door open. She poked her head out, only to see Jess sitting on the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest, gazing into the distance. She didn’t seem to notice as Tessa warily approached the couch.

“I’m pissed at you,” Tessa blurted out, because it seemed the right thing to say, and then she defiantly crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice sounded whiny and not-at-all tough, which she hated, but what was done was done.

Jess let out an airy laugh and rubbed at her face. “I’m well aware, Tessa. And you have a right to be.”

“So why did you say that shit about me to our friends while I was in the cabin? In fact, why would you say that shit at all?” Tessa pressed on, frowning tightly down at Jess. She squeezed her arms over her chest tighter, trying not let herself reach out and just slap her. “That really hurt me, and you know what, you don’t know anything about my friendship with Niall, so I don’t know why you thought you had the right to say that, especially when you know I would never do that.”

“That’s exactly the point, Tessa! I had no idea what was going on with your friendship with Niall, except that you were spending more time with him than you were with me!” Jess exploded, leaping to her feet. “You stopped fucking spending time with me, and even when we did hang out, all you talked about was him!”

Tessa’s jaw had dropped about halfway through Jess’ rant. Faintly, she realized that she should probably shut her mouth, but she didn’t even remember how.

Jess didn’t seem to mind her silence, and instead carried on. “Yeah, I stopped talking to you. You know why? Because you were so far up Niall’s ass it didn’t seem worth my time.”

Tessa finally remembered how to speak. “Why didn’t you say anything to me about it, then? Why did you just hold it in and get so resentful about it?” Her voice was weak and trembling, and her eyes burned. She hadn’t ever considered that maybe Jess had stopped speaking with her because of her actions. Their fight years ago had reversed roles.

Jess shrugged one shoulder; her eyes downcast. “I don’t know, Tessa, I guess I didn’t want to rain on your parade. I know you really liked him, and I didn’t want to get in the way of that.”

Tessa managed to lift an eyebrow. “So, instead, you bottled everything inside and decided to talk shit about our friendship, potentially to make him think I was using him for fame.”

Pushing out a sharp breath, Jess shrugged again and looked up once more, her eyes meeting Tessa’s. “I’m not trying to say it was the right thing to do. I regret it a lot, and I really wish I hadn’t acted that way. I’m sorry”

Rubbing at her arms, Tessa shook her head mutely, unsure of how to proceed from this point onward. Jess had really hurt her; but she, in turn, had apparently really hurt Jess. What she had said was shitty and unnecessary, but Tessa had been a bad friend before that.

“Well…I’m sorry I was being a terrible friend.” Tessa muttered, the words feeling stiff and awkward on her tongue – it was odd to be apologizing when, up until a few minutes ago, she hadn’t been aware she had done anything wrong. And, in her mind, what Jess did was way more fucked up. “I guess the stuff you said about me and Niall doesn’t matter anyway; we’re not friends anymore.”

Jess full-on gasped. “What the fuck? What do you mean? Tessa, he was so obvious about how much he liked you, how come you guys aren’t friends now?!”

Tessa frowned. “I didn’t consider him to be that obvious about his feelings, but I’ll get back on that later.” She took a deep breath and spilled – everything that had happened at Hamilton, without expressly revealing that his ticket was supposed to be hers. By the end of her story, Jess was frowning too, and clicking her tongue.

“I’m sorry, Tessa, I really thought that you two would end up together. Honestly. I saw how he looked at you while we were at the cabin; he looked at you like you were the brightest star in the night sky.”

Tessa stared down at the floor and scuffed her foot along it, trying to ignore the emotions that churned inside of her at those words. “Well. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Jess stepped forward and enveloped her in a hug. Tessa was stiff at first, not sure if she wanted this, but then she relaxed and wrapped her arms around her best friend, sighing softly. Tears pricked at her eyes and she sniffled, and Jess laughed quietly and patted her back gently. “Sorry for being a bitch.”

“I accept that apology,” Tessa murmured, but didn’t offer up another of her own, causing them both to laugh.

“I should go home. Lyrica will be glad we’re friends again.”

Tessa wondered, then, if maybe Lyrica had made this whole thing happen. If she had suggested Jess come over and mend things with Tessa. She almost asked, but then bit her tongue and hugged Jess just a tiny bit harder.

It didn’t matter. She had her best friend back.

join the taglist / talk to me about this / story page

taglist: @angryniall @stylishmuser @confusedkiwifan @irish-nlessing@takemedancingmaine @hap-ppy-days-van-ish-ed @stayclose-holdsteady @playboyxniall @savvyflowers @day-dream-niall@awomanindeniall @militrybarbi @klairelavarias @happilygemgem @halfpinthoran

[b-afterhours]

Avenue of Sins (part seven)

summary: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.

warnings: adult content, mature readers only.

if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.

series playlist

Alma stirred in bed discovering that she was alone despite the fact that Bill had fallen asleep with her that night. She scanned her room briefly in her sleepy fog only to see he was nowhere to be found. The only difference she discovered was that her bedroom door was slightly ajar and the smell of rosemary and garlic wafted into her room. It felt familiar yet she couldn’t remember exactly when the last time she smelt those homey aromas but it clued her in that Bill was in the kitchen cooking. She looked above her door, to the standard round clock mounted above thinking that it must have been dinner time but it was only just an hour afternoon. Propping herself up on her elbows, her head felt as if it weighed a ton. Even with the considerate amount of hours she slept, it wasn’t enough to stave off the terrible cocaine crash she was experiencing. Her mouth felt dry, feeling as rough as a cats tongue and her hair stuck to the back of her sweaty neck. She collapsed against the mattress wishing for a few more hours of needed sleep but she begrudgingly rolled out of bed with a growling stomach for a quick shower.

With wet hair and a long tartan button up and panties she met Bill in the kitchen where he was plating fettuccine noodles topped off with chunks of chicken breast that had been cooked in a creamy sun-dried tomato sauce. He gave her a winking glance with a cigarette perched between his lips. Even in just his trousers and white tank top, she found him looking as handsome as he’d ever been.

“Cooking?” She smiled leaning against the archway between the kitchen and the small dining room.

“Yup it’s been awhile,” he said nudging his head for her to follow as he took both of their plates to the dining table.

“It has… and what about the club?”

“We can be a little later than usual. I already gave Cooch and Theo a heads up.” Convincing Bill to give them keys to open the venue was a pain in the ass but it was nice to not have to be there early or rather in this case late and having to face their disgruntled employees as they waited outside for them. “Anyway, eat.” He said handing her a fork as she took a seat. “I made your favorite.”

She looked at him skeptically before wrapping her hand around the fork he held before her. “Everything is okay, right? You didn’t… did you?”

“What?” Bill shook his head. “No, not that. I just thought we’d have a meal that isn’t take-out or pizza for once.”

Alma nodded, stabbing her fork into her chicken. Honestly, regardless of how good it looked and how tasty she knew it was, she wasn’t very hungry but for his efforts, she dug in. Bill watched her twirl and twirl and twirl her fork full of noodles only to take small bites out of the mound she had accumulated on the tines. She had put a considerate dent into her meal but she couldn’t help but feel just a little ungrateful when she saw Bill’s plate nearly clean. Noticing, he was quick to suggest to save it for her as leftovers.

“Thanks,” she smiled appreciatively. “I’m gonna get dressed,” she pushed her chair across the linoleum floor but before heading off she stuck her thumb out to wipe away a speckle of sauce from his mustache. It was a courteous gesture but it was so loving. He wanted to kiss her, to wrap her in his arms yet he held back. They were both on the right foot again so he was cautious about derailing it by being too needy. After all, they had only made up the night before. Besides after last night, there was so much there that hadn’t been addressed and quite frankly he didn’t have the balls to. …

It was a quiet night at Trigger Finger XXX and although steady Alma sent half her staff home only leaving Praline, Raven, and Diego and unfortunately Craig –  who charmingly convinced her to finish out his shift. She wondered when the hell Bill was going to kill him. One moment she was fine with him and the next she couldn’t stand his childish behavior but deep down she just felt sorry for him.

Portia had sauntered over to the bar after her set, digging into her cash pouch and gathering a few bills. “Could I get a tequila sunrise, sweets,” she asked. 

She was wearing white daisy dukes and a southwestern styled fringe jacket with nothing underneath it was a total bite off Kansas western gig. She wasn’t a favorite among the dancers in the club since she often stole other girls bits piggybacking off their acts as a way to gain extra cash for herself. She didn’t need to, her usual noir film damsel act earned her enough money. Past her snobby attitude, she was insecure about her knobby knees and the hard edges of her body as she was not as filled out like the other girls were.

While Alma prepared the cocktail she reached for the decanter of orange juice only to discover it was empty. She turned her head towards Raven who had already taken notice biting her lip nervously. It was her job to make sure the bar was stocked and for it being a slow night there wasn’t a good excuse she could muster up.

“I’ll grab some from the back,” she said quickly. “And I’ll check everything else.”

Alma sighed, shaking her head as she drew a cigarette from her pack. “It’s gonna be a sec’,” she said to Portia muffled by the cigarette she held between her lips as she lit it. “Get off your feet I’ll have Raven bring your drink over to you.”

Portia slid her bills across the bar rolling her eyes and as soon as she turned her back Alma lifted a corner of her top lip, sneering at her attitude. She was feeling antsy for another bump and luckily Raven had swiftly come back with two cartons of juice in hand and finished Portia’s drink for herself.

“Sorry,” she said before her boss could sneak off. “I tried to fill the bottles earlier but Craig’s been in an out of the back room yelling on the damn phone.”

“Great,” Alma sighed blowing smoke. “Where is he now?”

“He’s still back there.”

“You went alone knowing he was back there?”

“Well, I couldn’t wait any longer...”

Alma put her finger up and took off stomping to the stock room. She couldn’t be pissed at Raven, she should have been watching him anyway. Near the very back, in the view between pillars of boxes, she spotted him repeatedly slamming the receiver into the wall mount on the verge of tears.

“Hey!?” She said flicking her cigarette to the floor causing embers skittering across the concrete floor.

“Shit,” he said blinking his tears away rapidly as he gained his composure. It was strange catching him having a human moment when he often hid behind an act of cocky arrogance which was hard to sympathize with. 

“What’s going on? You can’t slam equipment around unless you plan to replace it.” 

“Okay, okay,” he said putting his hands up defensively. “Sorry,” he said taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.

“You can go home like I said you should earlier...”

“Not right now, I can’t go home right now.”

“I’m not telling you to go home. Where ever you go when you leave here isn’t my business,” she reached into her back pocket for her personal baggie of coke. “Do you mind?”

Craig simply shook his head. “Veronica, I mean, Blondie’s been giving me shit all day I don’t want to go home to a shit show, showdown you know...”

“Veronica.” Alma scoffed as she stuck her little finger in the pink baggie shoveling a mound out with her nail. “You know I gave her the name Blondie? Anyway, I don’t blame you I guess,” she snorted the powder, pinching her nose off briefly before digging in a second time. “But, you can’t spend your shift arguing with her on the club’s phone. Leave that bullshit at home.”

“Yeah...” Craig nodded, sighing as he looked terribly defeated. If he were fighting with anyone else besides Blondie maybe she would have lent her sympathies but she was too familiar with her pettiness that she couldn’t bring herself to. “She just gets really jealous sometimes. She’s pissed about me getting to see all the girls perform while I work.”

“Well… what does she expect this is a strip club?”

“Exactly! I asked her if she wanted me to work fucking blindfolded and she seriously said yes!”

Alma lightly laughed. “She’s fuckin’ nuts. You wanna bump? Feels rude not to ask even if it's you.”

Craig cracked a smile, “Well if you’re offering.” He took a few steps over to her where she leaned on shipment boxes and bent down aligning his nostril to her jutted out little finger. He smelled strongly of hair mousse but also she smelled the faint fresh musk of Acqua Di Gio, the same Bill wore. It was an expensive fragrance, she knew for a fact since she had bought it for Bill as a Christmas gift. No wonder he owed his cousins' so much money he was burning it all on himself. “Mm, thanks,” he said wiping his nose. “You know you guys have better shit than what my cousins have?”

“I’ve heard,” she smirked.

“If they wouldn’t cut it to hell maybe their clientele wouldn’t come scurrying here for any. I tell them all the time but they don’t listen.”

“Hm,” Alma nodded. “Well, we should probably head out now?”

“Right you mind if I get another though?” He said mussing the dark curls on his head into place.

What Alma and Craig hadn’t known was that while they were chatting in the stock room Blondie had come to the club waltzing in like a whirlwind looking for him. He had hung up in her face and she was going to tell him in person exactly how she felt about it. That was until Bill stood tall, looming from his high rise VIP section leering right at her in contempt. She wasn’t banned but she wasn’t necessarily welcomed either. She ignored him heading straight for the bar in her frenzy.

“What in the hell?” Cooch said to Bill who was talking business with him beforehand. “She’s not allowed here, right? Want me to get her out?”

“No, let me see what’s going on,” he told her. In a haste, he walked to the bar where Blondie was interrogating his staff on her boyfriends' whereabouts.

“Hey,” he said grabbing her by the arm. “What do you think you’re doing here, huh?”

She softened her features once in his presence. “Bill…” she sighed, smitten. “Oh, I uh-”

“I uh, what?” He mocked. “Come with me. We can talk in my office you’re making a fucking scene out here.” 

As Bill pulled her to follow she pointed at Violet who was inviting a client to the private room below the loft. “I see you’ve gotten yourself another blonde bitch in here!” 

“Go. Don’t make another fuckin’ peep,” he said pushing her towards the stairs. 

“She’s not me though,” she grinned devilishly much to Bill’s annoyance. 

When Bill closed the door behind him, he stood with his back towards it. He didn’t want to lead her further in giving her any ideas but it was all for naught when in an instant she was all over him. He began pushing her way but she pulled his arms around her body placing his hand on her bottom. Her dress was so short, he could feel the skin right on the crease where her ass and thigh met with his fingertips. She was a desperate, hopeless little thing for him.

“Blondie quit,” he said pulling his arms away again but not before he copped a feel. She groped him through his pants. Which made him coil back a bit when he initially thought she was going for his gun but the thought faded when he felt that familiar rousing he’d been missing for too long. Before he could give in to her touch he placed both of his hands on her shoulders shoving her away at arm's length. “I said stop.” Dejected Blondie shrugged his hands off and fluffed up her teased bleached to hell hair back in place. “I appreciate the enthusiasm but desperate doesn’t look good on you, dear.”

“Oh fuck this,” she groaned trying to push past him but he blocked the door.

“Why the hell are you here?”

“’Cause my boyfriend – who’s about to be my ex – is being a fuckin’ wise ass. He hung the phone up on-”

“Christ, that’s enough,” he said waving her off. “I don’t care what you and Craig have going on. You have to leave. I can’t have you in my club causing shit-”

“Or what you’re gonna take me out back and beat my ass too? Huh?”

“Fuck sake. Blondie you quit working here that was on you. Just because your boyfriend-”

“Ex.”

“Ex whatever works here. Who, might I add, is enough trouble on his own and we don’t need you adding to that, alright.”

“Well, I don’t like him working here seeing all these girls tits who hate me!”

“Take that up with his cousins then?” Blondie shook her head at that impossible thought. “Right, you wouldn’t dare.”

“So but – I don’t like that he works with Alma at the bar! Okay!? Can’t you put him on security or something Bill? Just not, with her.”

“I knew it,” Bill shook his head. “I fucking knew it but I’m not going to do shit about it. And I’m especially not about to talk about how I run my club with you.”

“Craig… I can’t trust him when it comes to other girls. You remember what he was doing to earn that ass-whoopin'.”

“And, what were you just doing as soon as I shut the door? I don’t think he’d be very happy to know you were touching my dick?”

“I-I just can’t help myself when it comes to you,” she feigned a pout. “I miss what we had,” she pressed her body along his.

“Stop.”

“I know… you only have eyes for... for her. But we had something? You can’t deny that.”

“Maybe you’d like to think that. But whatever it was, it’s over.”

“Are you sure though?” She pressed her self harder against him, smashing her tits on him pushing them to the verge of popping out her dress top.

“It’s time for you to leave. Deal with Craig at home,” he said reaching for the doorknob behind him and stepping aside for her to exit.

When they had reached the bottom step from the loft Alma and Craig had emerged from the stock room together laughing about something but it cut short. The four of them stopped dead in their tracks for a moment all observing each other, gauging the vibe. Alma looked from Bill to Blondie, blinking in disbelief before pulling her brows together and her top lip turning up slightly, perplexed yet disgusted. She could sense that Craig had done the same but despite all the accusations he could have thrown at his boss and his girlfriend he steered away from it instead, directing all his anger towards Blondie. 

“Blondie what the fuck?” Craig said. “You come to my job looking for me really?”

Bill raised his hands up. “Enough. Craig, get off the clock and go home. Take her with you,” he said pointedly looking down at her.

“Come on baby. I missed you,” she said pouting up to him just as she was with Bill not even five minutes ago.

Craig swallowed hard looking like he was holding back a scream. He grabbed hold of her hand leading her out the club feeling pathetic, taking her back for what might have been the hundredth time. Bill leaned on the bar in front of Alma pulling a smoke from his pack, shaking his head.

“They’re a mess,” he said darkly laughing.

“Hundred percent. Looks like you got a taste of it before she left though,” she said flicking a spot just below the collar of his slate gray dress shirt. He looked down to a smudged pink lipstick print and rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t touch that bitch,” he said as he tried to dab it away with a cotton rag Alma had handed him. “I swear.”

Alma raised her brows. “She’s lucky.”

“What?”

“I was this close,” she said with her thumb and index centimeters apart, “to beating her ass.”  ...

A day later Alma had stepped out buying cartons of orange juice from the bodega down the street from the club. Raven also failed to inform her that the two cartons she had gotten from the stock room was all the juice they had for the weekend. She couldn’t blame her, it was Alma’s fuck up too not realizing she forgot to add it to the restock list. 

Lately, she felt that she was losing it, she was always on top things at work but not so much. She was feeling antsy, only thinking about her next cigarette, her next beer, or her next bump. And although she was high most of the time, she couldn’t even focus on what was important and when she came crashing down everything became foggy. She was overdoing it, she knew it. Maybe she had a problem – actually, she knew she had a problem but she took to an account that her life wasn’t crashing down because of it and that was enough to justify her habit even if by a little bit.

The bodega man, Kwame, a man with long amber brown dreadlocks meticulously stacked in a bun on his head and wrinkled cheeks was helping her fill a spare milk crate with all the juice she bought that would tie them over when the next shipment arrived Monday; while she snacked on a bag of plantain chips she grabbed from a rack by they counter adding it to her total.

“You need help carrying this? Please, take my nephew he will help,” he said pointing at his disinterested nephew who was sitting down watching a soccer match on a small buzzing tube tv set. Shooing away the orange bodega cat who was rubbing its head on his shin vying for his attention.

“I’m not too far, Kwame. He kinda looks busy anyway,” she winked, tucking her bag of chips in the crate and putting her half-smoked unlit cigarette between her teeth while perching the crate on her hip.

“Busy my ass!” She heard Kwame say as she pushed out the door with her shoulder.

She was halfway back struggling with the weight of the crate that only seemed to get heavier the closer she got to the club. When she heard someone call for her it felt all too familiar like deja vu. Only this time she was walking towards the club she now worked instead of away feeling crushed and hopeless when she first arrived in New York. And instead of Bill, she turned her head back and saw Craig jogging up to her, grabbing the crate from her arms.

“Shit that got heavy,” she said shaking out her arm. “But I could have carried it.”

“I know you could have,” he smirked.

“You seem to be in a better mood.”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “Better than usual I suppose?”

“Glad to get rid of your ex?”

“Ex? What? I haven’t broken up with Blondie?”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I, I just assumed after...” She didn’t mean to slip up but that night after Blondie stormed in, Bill told her all about their conversation in the loft before bed. “Nevermind.”

Craig walked backward, pushing the club door open while letting her in first. Bill was there at the bar with his paranoia creeping up on him once again when he saw them together. They seemed friendly in the way coworkers were but even that, was the last thing he wanted. Alma was all business and knew Craig had a target on his back but if she formed some type of attachment it could fuck everything up. Besides that, it bothered him knowing what type of person he was that she would even give him any time of day outside the usual work orders.

“Just in time,” Bill said stubbing out his cigarette out in a glass ashtray on the bar just as soon as Craig walked passed him with a nod. “We’ve got some important business.”

“Important?” She lifted a knowing eyebrow.

“To the loft, love,” he said placing an arm around her waist, his fingers grazing her tight jeaned ass.

Her heart pounded in her chest, it always happened when she was anticipating a romp with him. He knew her body so well, he could touch her here and caress her there and she melted in his hands like a strawberry swirl on a hot summers day, sticky and sweet.

They broke apart once they entered the loft, he took the lead towards his desk as her hands went to the top button of her jeans but stopped when he reached into his desk drawer pulling out the white land phone he kept hidden and placed it on top the desk while he sat. Her hands immediately snapped away from her waist, she felt silly for completely crossing his signals. She also found it peculiar, she was feeling desperate for his touch, didn’t he feel the same? It had been a while since they hooked up. She figured he might be getting it in with someone else but then with who? Her mind wandered briefly thinking maybe something did happen with him and Blondie the other night but it wasn’t like him to lie about something like that. Still, she wondered.

“I got a beep from Joey. I figured since we’re gonna be a team on this I’ll let you listen in on whatever the hell he has to say,” he said looking less than pleased with having to speak with a Russo.

“Oh shit...” she reached into his shirt pocket taking his pack of smokes as she sat on his desk next to him. “He’s probably wondering what’s the hold-up,” she said hushed before drawing on her cigarette.

“Maybe but I have some questions of my own.” He dialed on the receiver and held the phone to his ear as it rang.

Alma hunkered down a bit, putting her ear as close to the receiver as she could so that she could listen in. She smoked silently while they gave each other surprisingly pleasant greetings.

“Well, I’ve got two questions for you buddy,” Joey said.

“Well, I’ve got one for you first.”

“Go on.”

“I need Blondie gone.”

Alma whipped her head towards Bill, her lips apart in shock looking almost dumbfounded. Was he really asking the Russo’s to whack Blondie too? Of course, she didn’t like her whatsoever but not so much that she deserved to end up at the bottom of the Hudson.

“That, that was one of my questions… What the hell was she doing over there? She missed her set here and we put two and two together. Are you trying to pull some shit on us?”

“Pulling shit? No one’s pulling nothing but your favorite little cousin!”

“Alright, alright cool it. Those two are a fuckin’ mess, I know. She’s always crying about something in the dressing room every other night but I just wanna know what the hell compelled her to even step foot on your turf when she works for us now?”

Bill plucked Alma’s half-smoked cigarette from her fingers and took a long lung burning drag that he often did when he felt stress. “She’s got some issues with an employee of mine,” he said shifting his eyes at Alma briefly. “She gets jealous-”

“Does she!”

“She walked her happy ass in my club causing a scene interrogating my whole bar crew on whether he was cheating on her.”

“Christ, I see.”

“Now I’ll hold my end of the deal but I can’t have her starting shit when her beau goes missing. She goes snooping enough it’s your ass too.”

“You make a good point, I have to admit.”

“She’s a hellion. She gets under peoples skin for a fucking hobby.”

“I know you two had a thing. This certain employee though, it doesn’t so happen to be your girl Alma would it?”

“Alma?” She said harshly. Bill put his finger up for her to keep quiet but she shoved it away. “He knows my name?” He quickly cupped his hand around the speaking end of the phone to keep Joey from hearing her.

“Shut up,” he said through his teeth, brows raised. “You’re fine, okay?”

Alma huffed, “I guess...” she ripped the nearly gone cigarette from his fingers taking the last drag to the filter.

“Bill?”

“Sorry,” he began as he slid his hand away from the receiver, “the line must have crossed or somethin’. But yeah, unfortunately.”

“Hmm. I’ll talk to Batter about it but I’m sure we can get her out of your hair. Which leads me to my second question, when are you gonna get it done buddy?”

Alma turned to Bill with a look that said I-told-you-so. “As soon as Blondie’s a non-issue. I need him out of here as bad as y’all do.”

“Sounds good to me. How is he there by the way?”

“He doesn’t give me much trouble unless he brings personal bullshit from home here. But surprisingly, he’s not a bad employee.”

“Wow, you musta beat his ass real good cause he was worthless here,” Joey laughed. “Well then, I’ll give you beep on Blondie and you take it from there kid. Later.”

“Wait. Uh, may I ask what you’re gonna do to her.”

“Don’t worry about that. Worry about what you gotta do.” Click.

Alma sat back on the desk while she watched Bill light another cigarette, leaning back in his chair and hooking his other thumb in the front of his waistband.

“So that’s what was important? You’re ordering hits with our enemy?”

“I wasn’t necessarily ordering a hit. I just need her gone, however, that might be. I thought you’d be happy to hear that?”

“I am… but I’m not happy about racking up a body count now all of a sudden? One is okay but two-”

“One isn’t even okay, what are you even saying? How fucking high are you right now?”

Alma glowered at him, her lips hard pressed. “You got yourself into this shit Bill. I know one isn’t okay? But for as long as you’ve been running the show here and how cocky you can get you’re lucky it has now only been one!”

Bill rolled his eyes. “Remind me not to have you for any more calls then. If you want to act like that.”

“Fine then,” Alma shrugged. “Being left in the dark was heaven now that I look back. Frankly, when you said important business I thought you wanted to fuck,” she pushed off the desk and on to her feet to leave but he quickly sat up snatching her by the thigh pulling her back on to his lap.

“So,” he said sliding his hand up her warm thighs. The smoke from his cigarette wisping and whirling around them. The smell and the Acqua Di Gio he wore was making her dizzy. “That’s why you’ve been so wound tight, huh? You’ve been wanting me inside you?”

Alma bit her lip, shying away from the intensity of his eyes. She wanted him bad but being stubborn she shook her head.

“No?” He slid his hand as far as it could go, pressing her jeans against her pussy causing her to coil at his touch ever so slightly. “If I kissed you would you change your mind?” Her heart was thumping in her chest and all she could do was nod as she swallowed hard. Bill reached over to the corner of his desk, setting his cigarette down to give himself a free hand. “Do you want me to kiss you here,” he pointed at her lips, “or here?” He asked squeezing her with his other hand making her whimper. “Tell me what you want, baby girl?”

She responded by connecting her lips with his, kissing him feverishly while he still worked her through her jeans only this time she bucked her hips against his hand wanting more sensation than what the material would allow. She sucked on his tongue moaning as she did it until she slid off his lap and sat back on the desk in front of him shrugging off her leather jacket. He got to his feet trying to help her out of her sheer body suit but she stopped him.

“Wait you gotta unclasp it from the bottom first. Help me get these off,” she asked as she sucked in her belly struggling to get the ultra tight pants off.

“I really miss your tight little dresses right now,” he said as he struggled with it as well while trying not to hurt her. She had to agree with him on that. If she were wearing one he’d already have his head buried between her legs by now. “Christ is this why you asked for a wrench this morning? To get these on?” He said just as he got them unbuttoned and ripped them down her legs laughing with her.

There was a knock at the door, they both groaned turning their attention towards it.

“Tell them to go away,” Alma hissed.

“What?!” Bill hollered.

“Uh It’s Theo Boss, I’ve got Alvin with me,” he announced from the other side of the door.

“Shit,” Bill said slamming his fist against his desk. “I gotta take this.”

“Really? Tell him to wait a second we can-”

“I don’t like keeping him here long, love. Sorry...” he said pecking her lips.

“But my pants?”

“You’ve got a dress in the cash cabinet? I broke a sweat just trying to take them off.”

“Fine,” she groaned sliding off his desk, rubbing the sore skin on her stomach where her jeans cut into her skin.

“It’ll make it easier for later?” He winked watching her shimmy out the rest of her clothes. He felt his dick twitch seeing her in just her tiny panties in the corner of the room thinking about what could have been. “No panties, take those off. I don’t want anything else in the way.”

Alma slid into her black crushed velvet mini dress, one with a plunging draped neckline. She reached under the skirt and pulled her panties off with a smirk, twirling it around on her finger as she approached him.

“God damn it,” he said playfully leaving scratchy mustached kisses from her shoulder up to her neck. “I was about to fuck you up baby girl.”

“Boss?”

“Hold your horses,” Bill said opening the door for his bodyguard and his guest.

“Coulda let us in sooner me and the oaf wouldn’t have minded a private show,” Alvin patted Bill’s shoulder.

“What show?” Alma retorted back. “No one in a five-mile radius can get off when your skeezy ass is around.”

“Nice to see you too Miss Echo!”

“Go, take a seat Alvin, Christ.”

With her panties balled in her fist, she discreetly tucked them into Bill’s front pocket, “something to remember me by.”

Bill smiled and kissed her on her way out. It was funny, he thought when she’d put on a show for him. Like she needed to earn her way into his pants. He would drop to his knees with a simple snap of her fingers. Although he insinuated a merciless fucking – one where he’d choke the breath from her as he pinned her head against his desk while he slammed hard and deep into her he really just wanted to feel her from the inside. It made him feel safe and he felt like a chump thinking that but it was true. No one could make him feel like that but her and only her.

Once Alvin left, he cut into the half kilo brick he had bought from him taking a few hefty bumps with the sharp tip of his pocket knife. He sat back thinking of what Alma had said before about his “hit” on Blondie. He had, had a thing with that girl and now he was getting rid of her like it was nothing. He did like her, just not in the way he could promise her. She was the most volatile and exciting person he had ever met in his life. He hated playing games but he foolishly went along with hers gaining a rush from it even. He was in a weird place then. He had only been operating Trigger Finger for only a short while when he met her. Lonesome, he’d close up and take the train to an after-hours club for a beer and a good head bob to loud thrash music...

~~~

He saw her at Damned, a little hole in the wall dive bar close to where he lived at the time, looking like another Blondie lookalikes he’d often spot at punk clubs he’d frequented. She set herself apart, moshing and kicking with men twice her size and fearless. Even in the thrashing of limbs and bodies under the black lights, he could see that wild spark in her pale blue eyes right until she got elbowed straight in the nose knocking her back on her ass. She sat there stunned for a second, her nose leaking like a sieve running down her face and on to her shirt.

Compelled, Bill hopped from his seat and hurriedly helped her up afraid if she stayed there she’d gain an extra kick to the face.

“Are you okay?” He asked once they were in the clear of the pit. 

Blondie, touched her face as if she couldn’t even feel the wetness running down face clearly still in shock.

“Oh fuck? Is it bad?” She whined.

Bill raised his brows, frowning and nodded. She began to laugh maniacally, wiping the blood with the back of her hand further staining her skin and spreading it everywhere. He was taken aback for a moment wondering if she was severely concussed or if she was just insane.

“Gnarly, huh!? I got hit fuckin’ hard!” She said still laughing with blood stained teeth. “Will you get me a beer?”

“Uh, sure?”

“I deserve it? Don’t you think?”

While she certainly seemed crazy all of his red flags were ignored when they started talking about music. It was refreshing to meet someone who knew their shit, it reminded him of conversations he’d have with his old friend Alma who he hadn’t seen in some years then. When she asked about what he did for a living he was slightly hesitant to mention his line of work worried about how she might receive it but when he did she became very intrigued.

“Is it good money?”

“Depends,” he said taking a sip of his beer.

“On?”

“On how well you can shake your tits and work a pole,” he chuckled. “But it just depends. I have girls that make money all the time because they build a clientele for themselves in my club. Then some nights even the worst girls cash out more than my best. Depends.”

“Jesus. You sound like a fuckin’ pimp.”

He shrugged. “It’s not so far off I guess.”

When they parted ways that early morning she tried to go home with him until he reminded her about her busted nose.

“Right. Maybe I should get it checked? So... I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. You can always find me at Trigger Finger. I’ll get you a drink and a show,” he winked. “Nice meeting you Veronica.”

“Pleasure,” she playfully curtsied. “See ya... oh shit, I forgot your name?”

He hadn’t seen her for months after that until she nervously walked into his club on an incredibly busy night. Theo approached the VIP booth while Bill was flanked and flirting with various girls as if it were a sport and informed him that “some girl was looking for him”. He looked passed Theo to the direction he pointed and saw Veronica there sheepishly waving cast in the pink neon light from the bar. When he joined her, she was staring wide-eyed at the stage watching Cooch clapping her heels from the top of the pole before graciously spinning down as dollar bills rained around her.

“She’s a fuckin’ amazon!” She exclaimed.

“She’s one of my best girls,” he said proudly.

Cooch came down in a smooth split, scooting toward the edge of the stage while shaking her plump rear and allowing the patrons tuck bills into the straps of her red thong.

“I can tell!”

“Here,” Bill said taking his wallet out and handing her 10 dollar bills. “Give this all to her and she’ll give you a little something back. I’ll get us a drink, have fun,” he winked.

She stood there looking at the cash hesitant until she mustered up the courage to approach the stage, fanning the money out in the air to gain her attention. She’d only ever been to a strip club once and it was hardly as extravagant and engaging as this place. Cooch crawled to her seductively once her attention was caught. She took Veronica’s wrist brushing the bills along her body before pulling the front of her panties open letting her tuck the cash inside. She was blushing the whole time trying to avoid directly staring at her tits as if it were rude to. Until Cooch took her other hand letting her run her hands over her bare breast as she stood there at a loss for words, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“Thanks, love!” Cooch winked, twirling on her knee over to the next patron.

When she turned around towards the bar Bill was laughing with their drinks in hand.

“You should have seen your face!” He said when she approached.

“This place is wild,” she said taking her drink, laughing with him.

It only took a couple weekends hanging out and hooking up with Bill at the club that Veronica got the gumption to ask for a job. 

“Maybe you should think on it?” He was hesitant to hire her. 

“Think on what? It looks like good money and I need a job. I got fired a few weeks ago.”

“Fired for what?”

“Nothing. My boss just didn’t like me?” 

Bill lifted a brow. “Why didn’t they like you?” 

“It doesn’t matter. I just need a job... please.” She almost looked pained to say it, to be begging a near stranger.

“You know it’s hard work? My girls make it look like fun because they’re professional. I don’t like to hire girls without prior experience. When I did they were crying out of here within a week.”

“That won’t be me. I’m a fast learner!”

“You might be but I don’t do the official hire ‘til Cooch gives the green light. And she’s tough, she’s been in the business for a long time if you get the okay from her-”

“Then I can work here?”

Bill’s attention was taken watching his best friend who seemed to have fallen from the sky and back in his life that very evening walking down the steps of the loft. “Uh, maybe. If you get through Cooch you still gotta get a yes from me.”

She was going give him some sort of smart ass reply but she held her tongue knowing he wouldn’t hear her anyway. She slightly turned her head to see who he as looking at like a devoted puppy. A gorgeous shapely girl with black hair was looking at him in the same way. Veronica had noticed girls take an admirable shine towards him during her visits but how she was looking at him was genuine. Like he was the shining light at the end of a tunnel. She felt an irrational pang of jealous bubble within her with how they looked like lovesick teenagers. 

Foolish, she thought she may have been the only girl he’d been legitimately interested in by how he charmed her. She should have known better to think a strip club owner would have loyalty to anyone with so much pussy running around him. Though she wasn’t positive that if she did take that to account sooner that she still wouldn’t have bent over for him across his desk the other night giving her the best fuck of her life but it made her sick.

“I’ll talk to Coo-” she began to say but he was blatantly ignoring her, waving Alma over to the bar with a smile stuck on his face and forgetting she even existed. “See you later,” she said but her dejection was drowned out by the loudspeakers. “Bye then,” she said grabbing her purse and flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Sure,” Bill nodded hardly even hearing her.

Alma took her space right after as Bill ordered her a drink. “Who was that?” She asked.  

“Some yuppie...” 

tags: @dreamtherapy @bskarsgardlove92 @tinygayfungi@skarswhat @nutinanutshell @xskarsgardx @reinamysterio @darling-dearest-desired@erika-beau-berika @fine-i-suppose @corlin90 @codependentcellist @loveforbillskasgard@kikilikes @twosupergayghosts @umbriellethenightfall @tigers-pat @billullabies

(please let me know whether you’d like to be added/removed from tags)

[jamaisjoons]

saudade | pjm

Summary: You’re in love with Park Jimin but more importantly, you’re tired of the cat and mouse game you play. It’s time for you to get Jimin, playboy extraordinaire, to commit to one person. Namely you.

Companion piece to magnetised, the resolution between Suri x Jimin where Suri is replaced by the reader

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: fuckboy!jimin, slight body worship, fingering, sweet soft vanilla sex, but then DIRTY TALK lmao, slight possessive sex, creampie, 

Saudade

def. a nostalgic longing for something or someone that was loved and then lost, with the knowledge that it or they may never return; ‘the love that remains’

You stood outside a door you were all too familiar with. It was the door that led to Jimin and Hoseok’s flat, but you knew that Jimin was alone in there, considering Hoseok was out with his girlfriend, your best friend. You weren’t sure what to do. Well, you knew what you wanted to do. But gaining the courage to knock on the door and speak to him about whatever the hell your relationship was, was entirely too daunting. But you knew you had to do it. If you didn’t, you’d chicken out and if there was anything it was that you weren’t, it was a chicken. So, you gained all your courage and knocked on the door, backing away slightly and waiting with baited breath for Jimin to open the door.

You heard the shuffling of feet behind the door and the clinking of the lock as it opened and then suddenly time slowed as the door opened and you took in a deep breath at the sight of him. He truly was the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. His hair was currently dyed a soft bubble-gum colour, making him look ever more adorable than he usually was. The pink of his hair brought out the natural pink tinge of his entirely too squishy cheeks. He was dressed in his usual black ripped jeans, paired with a white sleeveless shirt that showcased his muscular arms and you had to wonder how someone as adorably cute as Park Jimin could be so sinfully sexy.

“____! Hi!” Jimin said, his eyes widening ever so slightly. He hadn’t been expecting you. But really, why would he be when you’d been avoiding him for the last two weeks. But his confession had been on your mind every day and finally when the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘maybes’ were too much, you decided that enough was enough. You were going to chain him to you forever. You were going to make Park Jimin, playboy extraordinaire, submit to you.

“Hey! Can I come in?” You asked and Jimin quickly nodded, opening up the door and letting you in.

“So what brings you here? You’ve been avoiding me recently” Jimin said, his tone playful, you opened your mouth to protest but quickly shut it when Jimin sent you a knowing look.

“Please don’t try to deny it. You always avoid things you don’t want to deal with. I assumed it was about what I said the night of the party,” Jimin said lightly, keeping the tone of the conversation casual. You’d always admired that about him. How he could just take the edge off a situation with a few smiles and a gentle tone. It’s one of the things that had caused you to fall in love with him.

“I promised you we’d talk and I like to keep my promises,” You finally stated and Jimin nodded, gesturing towards the sofas in the middle of the room. The two of you took a seat, sinking into the comfortable cushioning of the couch, before you turned to Jimin. However, you were stuck for what to say. You weren’t sure how to start the conversation. It wasn’t easy for you to speak about your feelings.

“I love you” Jimin blurted out after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

“Jimin” You gasped, eyes wide at his sudden confession.

“No, just let me speak. Please. I love you ____, and it kills me every day that you’re not mine” Jimin whispered, and you immediately felt a lump in your throat.

“I… do you mean that? Or are you just saying that because you know what it’s what I want to hear?” You asked, unsure of yourself. Jimin had always known what to say to girls to get into their pants and you had never wanted to be one of the girls that had fallen for his charms. But you had. And now, you were just another one of those same girls who fawned over his every breathing moment. And you hated it.

“I’m a lot of things ____. I flirt and sleep around; I know exactly what to say to make a girl fall for me and the minute a girl gets too clingy I make sure she knows she means nothing to me by sleeping with her friend. I may be a playboy and a dick to the girls who hang around me, but I’m not a liar. Especially to you. I cannot recall a single lie I have ever told you because I’d never lie to you” You replied earnestly, lifting his hand and brushing his knuckles against your cheek, wiping away the tear that you hadn’t even realised had fallen.

“What about the other girls Jimin?” You whispered, almost fearing his answer.

“What other girls?” Jimin asked, his head tilting to the side and you glared at him.

“The other girls! The ones you’d constantly flirt with, the ones who you’d fuck and then leave them high and dry. How do you think it made me feel when you’d flirt with me one moment but be kissing the next girl who deigns to pay you attention? How do you think I felt? No, you don’t need to guess. Because I’ll tell you. It made me feel cheap. Replaceable. It hurt so much knowing that if I weren’t here, you’d be able to keep your bed warm by finding another girl. It hurt so much, Jimin” You sobbed, the tears falling freely and immediately Jimin was right next to you, pulling you into his embrace and shushing you as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I’m sorry. Angel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. But you have to know, you are the first girl I’ve ever felt so strongly for. I know it doesn’t make up for the shit I put you through, but like I said, my feelings for you are so strong I didn’t know what to do with myself. God, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I never wanted that. . I love you ____, I love you so much. If you give me a chance, I’ll make this right. I’ll treat you like the queen you are and I’ll be loyal. I’d make sure you and everyone else knew that I was yours, amyours and only yours” Jimin confessed and you nodded, smiling slightly. You couldn’t believe his words; just the idea of Park Jimin belonging to you and only you set your heart afire with emotions you couldn’t even comprehend.

You shifted until you were on his lap, straddling his waist, your knees on either side of his legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed your lips onto his own pouty ones, kissing him slowly. Jimin moved his hands to your waist, growling into your kiss as he pulled away. He immediately flipped you over so that you were underneath him, his arms on either side of you and his hips between your legs.

“Gods, you look so good. Good enough to eat” Jimin said, eyes roaming over your body, as they darkened with want. He moved his fingers to flit across your thighs, making you moan at his light tough. He smirked down at you, leaning down and kissing along the column of your throat as his fingers moved to the hem of your dress. He pulled away from your throat and winked at you before clenching the material of you dress and quickly ripped it off of your body, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. He groaned at the sight of your bare breasts, moving his hands to grip at your hips as your hands made their way to his hair instinctively.

“Jimin” You gasped at the cold air brushed against your skin, but it wasn’t the nippy air in his flat that caused shivers to run down your spine, but his feather light touches darting over your skin as he kissed down your body.

“Fuck, you sound so good when you moan my name” Jimin growled as he nipped at your hip before placing a soft kiss on your stomach, just above your bellybutton.

“Moan my name again baby” Jimin said, his voice breath as his lips ghosted over your skin, his head resting against your abdomen as he licked a trail from your bellybutton to the waistband of your panties.

“Jimin” You gasped out, your fingers immediately tangling into his hair and you could feel him smirk against your belly, his expert fingers sliding your underwear down your legs before crawling back up your body, placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone as beautiful as you when you’re naked” Jimin murmured, nipping at your jaw before swooping down and capturing your lips again. His hands moved down to grip at your ass, lifting them up slightly and bringing them flush against his hips. He expertly body rolled against you, making your eyes roll back into your head at the feel of his jeans against your naked heat.

“Take me Jimin. Make me yours,” You whispered against his lips. Jimin’s eyes darkened before he knelt on the couch, his eyes tracing every contour of your body, admiring the pretty blush dusted over your cheeks.

“Beautiful” Jimin whispered, a small smile on his face. You blushed harder, letting out a small smile of your own. He quickly jumped off the sofa, stripping himself down naked before jumping back on top of you.

Jimin moved his hands down, gently brushing his fingers up your leg before placing his hand on your thigh. His eyes never left yours, his own dark brown eyes staring into yours. You moved your hands to his face, pulling him down for a kiss while bucking against his hips, your wet heat sliding against his hard cock. Jimin’s eyes rolled as yours fluttered shut, a short gasp escaping from your lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jimin praised, nose brushing against your collarbone as one hand moved to your pulsating centre. You let out a whimper as his fingers brushed against your slick lips before settling on your clit, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against the hardened bundle of nerves.

“Jimin” You panted, bucking your hips more violently. You didn’t know how he did it, but even the slightest of brushes, the softest touches; always set your whole body on fire.

“What do you want?” Jimin questioned, nipping at the supple skin on your throat before moving up to look at you.

“You” You whispered back, smiling brightly at him. Jimin grinned before moving his hand; he slowly slid one finger into your pussy, pumping it softly. You whined, back arching slightly as his thick finger spread your walls open.

“More” You panted against his lips, rolling your hips slightly, willing him deeper into you. Jimin, not one to disappoint, slid a second finger into you, quickening his pace just a fraction, not enough to bring you to your peak but enough to drive you crazy.

He watched your face, captivated by your beauty; the way you bit your lip, your half-lidded eyes and pink cheeks. He quickened his pace again by another fraction causing you to mewl and open your eyes. You stared into his dark mocha eyes and Jimin hardened slightly, realising it was all for him. This would never be anyone else’s. This was a view that only he could have. His thumb moved to brush your clit, rubbing at it gently; his touches soft. Your thighs trembled, moaning his name as you rolled your hips harder, the coil in your stomach tightening, warming up to an unimaginable searing heat. Jimin quickened his fingers, sliding a third digit into your impossibly tight heat, hastening as he felt your walls quivering around his fingers.

“Jimin please” You gasped out, voice croaking. Jimin bent down and captured your lips with his own before pushing his fingers as deep as he could, rolling your clit with your thumb.

“Oh fuck! Jimin” You mewled, your back arching off the bed before your body stilled. You let out a silent scream, your voice dying as the waves of pleasure brushed over you, your body shuddering with your orgasm. Jimin groaned against you, your juices spilling onto his hand, the smell of your sex permeating the air. He took in a deep breath, eyes darkening with lust. He watched you shudder underneath him, eyes wide as he took in every detail of your face.

“Beautiful. I love you” Jimin murmured brushing his nose against yours before kissing you softly. He pulled his fingers out and brought them to his lips, licking them clean before positioning himself over your body, his member against your hot slit.

“I love you ____” Jimin whispered again, his cock rubbing against your slit, soaking his own shaft in your nectar. You moaned spreading your legs further, your arms lazily moving to wrap around his neck.

“Love you ____” Jimin whispered again, repeating the words over and over as he ground against you, causing you to whine. He started sliding into you, his girth stretching you to your limit. However, just as the tip moved in he stopped. You opened your eyes to stare deep into his, your face frowning in question.

“Say it. You please say it” Jimin begged, pausing his actions as he stared into your eyes, looking for something.

“Say what Jimin?” You questioned, your frown deepening.

“Say you’re mine. Say you love me. Please say you love me,” Jimin begged, your face softening at the desperation in Jimin’s eyes.

“Yours. Always yours. I love you Jimin. Always and forever. I love you,” You said softly, Jimin’s eyes closing as he buried the rest of his cock into your tight heat. You threw your head back as he filled you up completely.

Rapture.

Jimin pulled out slowly before sliding all the way back into you. He slowly thrust into you, taking the time to enjoy the feel of you wrapped around his member, your wet walls quivering against his pulsating cock. He kept the pace slow, drawing out soft moans from you. He moved one of the hands from the side of your head to your thigh, pulling the limb up and over his hips so he could get deeper into you. You let out a soft whine as you began grinding your hips against his, letting him completely fill you over and over.

You felt the coil tighten once more; you lifted your body drawing him into another kiss as you bucked harder against him, Jimin moving one hand to your hip, guiding your hips. You pulled away and Jimin took in the sight of pure ecstasy on your face. He began thrusting harder, angling his hips in such a way that he hit your cervix each time, his tip brushing against your spongy G-spot every time he entered you. Jimin rolled over so you were on top of him and sat up, his hands wrapping around you and brushing up and down the middle of your back, causing tingles to run up your spine.

You pressed your breasts against his chest, your hands running up his perfectly sculpted arms to hold onto his shoulders as you began bouncing on top of him. Jimin let out a throaty groan at the feel of your breasts rubbing against his pectorals as well as the added friction of your wet pussy gliding up and down his shaft. He moved his head down to the crook of your neck, his cheek resting on your shoulder, as he placed soft kisses along your neck. His hands continued roaming the expanse on your back, gripping at the fleshy globes of your ass every now and then. You sighed, kissing his shoulder as you bounced quicker on top of him. Jimin felt his orgasm approaching at the quickened pace and moved his head to stare at you.

“Babe… I’m cumming” Jimin groaned and thrust in deeply, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure.

“Cum Jimin, cum in me. Make me yours completely,” You whimpered and Jimin could feel his pleasure take over at your words.

“Mine” Jimin growled out possessively as he bucked harder, his hands moving to your hips and pulling your down harder onto him and you smiled as his touch got rougher. While you loved it when he was gentle, something about a rough Park Jimin set you ablaze with desire.

“Yours” You replied your eyes rolling back as you felt your own impending climax.

“Fuck, I love you. I love the way this pussy feels around me. You’re so tight and wet. God you’re so wet, you’re dripping all over me,” Jimin groaned out huskily, kissing and sucking on the flesh on your collarbone.

“Love you- too,” You gasped, your voice cracking in between from the sheer pleasure of him rutting into you. Jimin moved a hand in between the two of you and pinched your clit.

Suddenly you stilled before screaming out his name and you came over him, your walls tightening around his shaft. Jimin let out a roar as he felt your drench his member and pulled your hips down, thrusting in as deep as he could go. He bit down on your flesh before suckling at the flesh, marking you as he released his seed, him cum splashing against your inner walls and filling you completely. You were lucky you were on birth control because as much as you loved him, you didn’t want tiny little Jimin’s running around just yet.

Jimin fell back, pulling you with him, his member still buried deep within you. You shifted slightly, Jimin whining in protest as his cock slipped out of your heat. However, his whines were halted as you threw a leg around his hips, snugging into his side. Jimin smiled and pulled your closer, one arm moving under his head as the other wrapped around your waist. You moved your hands to his chest, lazily raking your nail against his skin.

“Mmmm, stop. That tickles” Jimin said, chuckling as he removed the hand from under his head and grabbed the hand on his chest, intertwining your fingers before brushing his lips against your knuckles.

“Don’t you think we should move from here? Hoseok could be back any moment” You said breathlessly, still coming down from your own high.

“Nah, he’ll be at yours for the night. We can rest a bit” Jimin replied and you sighed in content at his words, not really wanting to move yet.

“I know I said it a lot. But I really do love you” Jimin said as he brushed his lips against your forehead, his arm gripping your waist tighter.

“Yeah, I love you too” You confessed, curling around him tighter, humming against him as he rubbed his thumb over your hip. And you stayed like that for the rest of the day, just holding each other and whispering sweet nothings to each other.

Masterlist

[commonalex]

Aphrodite

(press play, won't bite ya)

aphrodite by common alex

Listen/download: aphrodite by common alex

They really caught my eye by mistake. Couldn’t even make out what was really happening because of the slow daybreak; when I finished parking she was already laid down on the parking lot and this old fuck with his black-as-a-crow dyed hair and this filthy white shirt was stomping her sides. I shout till I get noticed by this dusty boned ass and his halloweeny mustache he rocks in this late September. I sprint (well, supposedly, my lungs aren’t as light as they used to) and he flinches as if he shat his pants towards a old green Citroen bumped to pieces. I swear he was this close getting his ass beat.

-You shouldn’t have done that.

-Are you… okay, lady? Hey, easy easy. No sudden moves, I got a first aid kit back at the truck.

-Oh no. No, don’t you ”lady” me.

With these dark brunette hair, this long black kimono robe tied by her waist and these thick sunglasses hiding her eyes, her age must be somewhere around fifty, maybe less. I see no blood, though, only on her bottom lip and her back from the asphalt; the rest are just bruises by hand or by shoe. I put some old band aids I found along some other (close to be expired) shit and help her to stand while being a bit scared she is way more hurt internally. But even though she stands alright there’s something about her that doesn’t seem quite right.

-Don’t scratch that, let it dry out. What about a hospital, a doctor? Is there anything like that close from here?

-What do you think, big boy?

That I made a stupid question. Why on earth would there be a hospital close to a truck station on the highway? There’s not even a restaurant around here anymore. We barely get a cup of shitty coffee along with overpriced snacks and a chance to piss with the constant risk of getting infected of something too fucked up for science to give it a name yet.

-Where’s your car?

-I don’t have a car.

-Were you brought here?

The sunglasses slowly fell from her straight lined nose for me to see her smudged eyes guiding me to the right. There really was no car. Only an abandoned gas station, a really creepy playground overgrown by weeds and grass and an old caravan, five by three meters with a blue stripe on its side. I look at her for confirmation and I walk her slow as one can go to let her sit on a cheap travel armchair right besides the open wide door of the caravan.

-I’m… Aphrodite. And you?

    Her hesitation right before her name has successfully rang every single bell in existence.

-Does it matter?

She seems unbothered. Knowing my name or not is just the same to her, so to speak; as long as I don’t ask any questions about this pasty prick hitting her a few moments ago.

-Well you’re right about that. How old are you?

-Thirty-three.

-Good for you, you seem nothing like your age. You could tell me you’re twenty six, I’d believe you. 

Wow, she’s really into talking, isn’t she? So much she tries to pull a second chair for me beside her. I take a sec to understand if all this a way of flirting or just an awkward compliment used instead for “thanks” because I was at the wrong place at the right moment.

-Sorry, you caught me at work. A long drive to Romania, really, and if I don’t stick to schedule they’ll come for my ass.

Still, unphased.

But she keeps on digging to me.

-Yeah, I’ve heard that a lot. I mean have you ever seen anyone that you try chatting with them and they aren’t in any rush?

Aphrodite seems kind enough to relieve me from my puzzled face by opening and closing her robe as she speaks, as if I, an engaged dude with two babies back home, am all about that shit right now. And even if I was, just by looking at her breast and legs I get a weird feeling. So I play dumb until she gets tired of trying. She doesn’t. And this woman was lying on a parking lot ten minutes ago.

-Look, I can’t help with anything else. And besides, how can I put it, I don’t really…

She catches up and cuts me off from the worst.

-What you “don’t really”. Fuck hookers or fuck trans?

I can’t stress enough how embarrassed I got between these seconds. For sure I didn’t want to put it like that, but how could I say that without saying it? I simply nodded. She seemed like she understood though. She ties her robe back and drags me to chit chat once again (because she couldn’t drag me inside that greasy caravan), beginning to unfold the story of her life. Literally. Awkward as fuck, but I’d lie if I wasn’t intrigued with her.

She said she was born in a rural town far from here, raised by her “holy as a woman can ever be” grandma Aphrodite (that’s where the name comes from)- she tells me that exact thing about three times. I’m asking for her parents and then waiting her to finish with the endless cursing towards them just so the story continues to the point she reaches fourteen years old. Right there is where she, without a warning, runs away from home to Salonika, the closest big city she could afford to start selling her body.

-I’d be lying if I ever said I didn’t get comfy with work, especially the first few clients. After the initial stress dies down you wait for the instinct of habit. I swear, you could spend a week in this job and nothing would ever surprise you anymore. You can’t imagine what kinds of filth and secrets lie outside. Kinky psychos showing up with their wedding rings on, notorious pimps spending all morning on a tv show asking “where is this country really going with all this filth“, priests. Well, you heard nothing about priests yet, I tell you that.

Aphrodite, an adult now, eventually grows far too big for Salonika and makes a trip down to Athens (as she always intended), finding only more filth and misery inside a poorly lit basement with other prostitutes. Her desperation keeps on popping up here and there for a while because she couldn’t predict things turning so damn shitty and unbearable. She stacks her money little by little and she finally gets her surgery.

-And how was thing afterwards?

-Deep inside I knew this was my time; with the body I should have had. And the best thing was that no new client could ever understand the difference, and even if he did that was the last thing he was concerned with. I was ahead of everyone else in there- all of them. But little did I care about all that, I was made for greater things. I didn’t plan to stay in that fucking basement any longer, getting fucked by the lowest of people. That’s why I got my head down and worked my ass off until I could make a name of myself, until I could make not enough money but the real money. And that was what really got the best of me in the end, I think.

She then “moves” to the biggest red light district of Athens (I mean, of course, where else could she really be, right?) and that’s the point where her story really turns sketchy. Whatever she told me to this minute might be a bit cliche, but still believable. Now she runs over all that, telling me to believe that she managed to get so big she turned to a highly paid escort for rich and powerful people like that (which I guess you could say is plausible, given that she indeed would be beautiful at some point). Just the names and zeros she dropped on the table makes me suspicious as hell. But this isn’t the end, she continues with her Mercedes car she owned and took rides with back at her grandma’s place or with how she was personally invited every time the american fleet stopped in Rhodes and Crete. Like she’s living in a goddamn movie.

-So things get really, and I mean really busy, am I right?

-It didn’t take long for magazines and tv shows for nosy people to notice me. Those were the days, I tell you. You remember the checks I used to get previously? Well you wouldn’t even imagine those. I was called the “trannie”, the “pure Satan offspring”, the “biggest mistake of the nature”- really whatever. I’m still laughing. By the time the camera was switching off everyone was begging for a photoshoot or an interview like their life depended on it. You can’t just pass this opportunity to get famous. It’s as strong as a drug. All this attention, all those lights really make you feel like you’re doing something good at last.

How much time could have passed for the sun to come out full force, burning my back like a motherfucker? I take a peek at my watch and I see it’s quarter past ten. Shit. I really should be going by now. How do I cut it out for her, hoping that she will eventually go to the doctor by herself? How do I escape her mouth from talking so slow or her eyes from following me like a predator’s?

-That’s alright and all, but...

-I know, you can’t tell right now, but everyday I was getting calls and visits from designers at my house by the shore to ask me if I would wear their shit. Yeah, I reached that peak. I mean, would you believe me if I told you I stumbled upon Dolce & Gabbana at the airport? Giving me their cards and all?

No. No I wouldn’t believe you.

-That’s all nice and dandy, Aphrodite, but something’s missing. I mean, what are you doing here? Like, for real.

You can’t make me believe she didn’t expect this to come up eventually, but here she is acting like that. Leaving sighs and staring into nothingness. Her voice even changes up a bit, gets a more serious tone to it, out of the blue.

-Do you really believe prostitutes tend to think about the future? I mean, really? Do they make plans of retirement or something? Especially the trans ones. Let me tell you, most of them can’t even think about making it to thirty, either from someone or themselves. I, personally, chickened out twice and got rescued three times, and you’re coming here telling me if I ever thought I would be here during my old days?

-With all these things you casually spill out of doing in the ‘90s you should be standing above thousands, even millions, with all of the doors wide open for you. What happened? How could you go from a house by the shore, a Mercedes and all these interviews to, you know… This?

    Where, just to remind you, this is a fucked up caravan besides the highway where old fucks are coming to kick her in the neck.

-”What happened”. Like I never asked that to myself. I’m here, sitting and telling you a stuff or two about myself and you have the nerve to pull a “what happened”. What could have happened, big boy? What do you believe?

She seems really sensitive that not only I interrupted her story but in addition I questioned the lies she spices it with. Welp, what can you do, I already threw half of my morning out of the window with this one, we’re only left to see where is she going with all these delusions of her amazingly faked past. Like I have any time to spare.

-Tell me.

-It must be the place, dunno. You, for example, came here maybe for a piss stop and then back to work. And what a demanding work; holding a wheel until you don’t. But what about the whores? Whores got a body to maintain till its expiration date. After that, game over; again, if the make it there. If disgust hasn’t eaten them alive by then. If insecurities about everything starting to loosen up, or the ringing of the phone that eventually will go silent, or reaching the point of begging to keep on living cause family is not an option anymore. They go nuts, you see, they hold on from anything they can reach just to keep on feeling that all this they are going through really mattered. Just to keep on feeling like they are valued.

-So is this why you’re staying here? To feel like this matters? To get beaten up by old fucks and internally accepting it? Why don’t you ask for help?

-This is help. This old fuck is the only one that comes around and throws a penny for me to maintain myself. He’s the only one that fucks me, anyway. That’s why I’m here, for him- it’s his caravan after all. He lives about twenty minutes from here with a wife, kids and grandkids. He just likes to “get it out of his system” once every few days by fucking for free and beating me whenever I mention that I can’t do this anymore, because he is afraid that his whore isn’t loyal to him. But why am I saying all these things to you. I’m wasting my words. You still don’t believe me.

I don’t know where her truth and lies stand anymore, only that if she really lived all these things she’s a massive fool for not writing a book. I, for once, took too much of my time for all this crap. When I started heading back to the track she switched to her first ways, telling me that “I’m doing the right thing” or that the old guy with the mustache “really has a gun and doesn’t mess around”. Yeah, whatever. I get in and peep Aphrodite behind the window waiting on the chair for me to go but something inside makes it hard for me to start the truck. It’s quarter to eleven but her endless chatter seem to get my weariness going. As time passes and the truck stays still, Aphrodite eventually heads back to the caravan shutting the door behind her. I’m kinda relieved. But I’m still madly curious, what can I do? Ah, fuck it, Romania can wait a bit more. I pull out my phone and search blindly, trying to find anything at all.

Aphrodite.

Trans.

Prostitute.

‘90s.

Modeling.

Enter.

I couldn’t feel anything less than a dick at this point. It seems unreal. Not only she was legit, but she toned things down a little in her story. The photoshoots were indeed professional and stunning, while I found an interview of her on an ancient tv talk show I never really knew existed where she explains how much her life changed due to the massive exposure she got at this point. Same as today, minus the touches of time on her. But most of all happy. Really all this attention made her bloom ridiculously. Magazine covers, runways, pageants; all enough to back up not only Aphrodite's public existence but also her relations with really established and rich individuals. And all of there as cute as hell, but where did all these money go? Well, the answer lies to a more recent past, this time inside tabloid news articles.

Only three to four year ago, Aphrodite spawns once again, this time in Jerusalem (what the fuck) in order to get closer with her faith and a highly respected priest there. So damn respected that people wouldn’t stop to talk about their “secret” meetings late at night, to the point where photos and videos leak publicly. Result? These tabloid fucks smell the blood from far, far away and get to hunting the story. The priest goes public, says “sorry guys, my mistake, Satan trapped me and such, didn’t want to, sorry again, peach to all”, gets thrown away from the local church and that was pretty much the end. Aphrodite on the other hand vanishes once again up until this point, right here, on this parking lot besides the highway.

I guess that’s what she meant with that “you heard nothing about priests yet” earlier. Maybe I should have listen more carefully or see her face better in order to recognize her from all this priest thing that blew up literally everywhere back then. Either way, my curiosity stopped killing me but guilt took over me. With my route schedule gone to the shitter already, I knock her caravan door till she opens with death in her eyes. I show her the interview I found on my phone.

-It’s you, isn’t it?

-That’s really a shame, big boy. What do you do with all these truck stuff. You should be working for NASA by now.

I was wrong before. This point right here is where I can’t feel anything less than a dick.

She invited me inside and made me sit right across a really slow fan that was spinning just for the aesthetics in order to make me feel less of a sweaty pig. The caravan looks way more comfy on the inside with a massive bed and a narrow sofa but the mountains of hoarding shit and snack packaging lying around here and there do no favors. It’s a good option for holidays, but absolutely not for regularly living inside of it. Aphrodite doesn’t seem to bother with my snoopy eyes. She holds the phone with both hands while carrying the cold look. As if she doesn’t recognize herself. As if she doesn’t want to.

-When was that?

-Not sure. ‘95? Later than that? I only recall just how rude and creepy this interviewer was. He didn’t hit on me or anything like that, it’s just that he was always an ass kisser in front of you and a shit talker behind your back. I didn’t get how much crude and sarcastic he was in that interview until years later. Now that I think of that, I guess everyone were kind of the same. But these were different times, more fabulous, more sparkly, more…. Innocent? I guess innocent isn’t the right word for it.

Then I show her the article about the priest. She kinda leaves a bitter smile there. She might no look exactly happy but nevertheless she must understood that in the end I kinda cared and dug up her whole history to make it up for myself after treating her like shit. She silently accepts it, even though with her fair share of reservations this time.

-That’s the most recent I could find, there’s nothing next to that. Would you mind telling me what happened next?

-One day my head was about to explode. I couldn’t do this anymore. All I wanted was to somehow save my soul from this pit of crap I ended up, and the idea stuck to me the moment I accidentally found grandma’s cross among my stuff. That was really it. I quit the job, closed my phone and traveled to churches and monasteries, throwing money around to buy a seat next to God. Turns out I found my Devil, though. 

She’s way more reserved than before. I get that all of this might still cut deep and talking about it hurts like a bitch. I tell her she doesn’t really have to say anything she doesn’t want to and I am ready to leave her alone if she asks me to. She calmed my anxious ass with a simple nod.

-And the videos?

-I leaked them. I told you prostitutes don’t think about the future. I couldn’t even think about today at this point of my life; I was really in a shitty place. The priest wanted to go big, a bishop or something like that, and to do that she had to dump me. Like I was the one flirting with him in the first place. And he was the one supporting me, so what the fuck would I do there alone? That’s where a magazine came to me, no idea of its name, put money on my hand for the footage and came back with these money, just so nothing would remind of everything that played out down there. As you’d expect, money didn’t last forever. So I got to a point where I was like “what can I do”? I could never be a beggar and I could never go back to a brothel without people laughing at me, so I went from one old friend to another until someone finally decided to help.

-Someone. Like a cunt.

-Yeah, a cunt, I don’t know. It’s better than nothing.

I ran out of words. I’m no longer curious, no longer so guilty and for sure don’t feel pity for her. I can only say “good luck” and “take care” to her as I walk out; even though neither of these hold any value for her situation. She didn’t wanna hop on the truck because she didn’t feel like she has anywhere to go. I try to make her understand that anywhere is better than this misery and abuse. She responds somewhat philosophical, telling me that who knows, maybe someone might come up on this truck stop and can actually help her. Give her money to live or anything else she needs and then taking he-...

-Aphrodite! Out! Now! 

The shouting from outside got her eyes open wide, staring at the door for a good second. I never believed I could see her scared shitless.

-You shouldn’t have done that, I told you so.

-Is this him?

I didn’t need an answer to that. Her bottom lip shaking like her jaw’s about to fall gives me all the information I need. She pulls my hand from the door to stop me. Too bad I already decided my approach. I smile at her to stop her from panicking and jump out with sun hanging above me. Ten meters on the left there’s the green Citroen with one door open and a bit closer there’s the old bastard standing a bit closer with a shotgun resting in his hands. The truck is straight ahead, forty steps or so. It’s just a sprint as the worst case scenario, big deal. Either way I bet his shaky hands could even load before shooting. Ha, there it is, haven’t I told you, he dropped the fucking shotgun. Ten more steps and hello Romania. I only feel bad that I didn't have the time to greet her for the last time before I go. I yell "goodbye" as I'm running but my voice isn't coming out at all. But again how could it be heard right here, right now with all those bang bang bang bang b…

The only thing I can make out of all this noise is her screaming from the back. 

-No! Oh God! 

[thetrashmammalimaginationhub]

Ben Hardy x Reader

Ben Hardy x Reader

(Hey so this is a oneshot I posted to my quotev account a couple days ago and I thought it was the perfect start to this blog so...enjoy! Will make another post later reguarding who I can write about if anyone wants to send a request.)

“And action!” the director called starting the scene for the day. This one was just with the main boys: Rami, Gwilym, Joe...and Ben.

Not going to lie when Joe told me Bohemian Rhapsody was looking for more extras I was pretty pumped, mostly because it's fucking QUEEN! I fucking worshiped that band and had promised myself to love them even after my dying day. Okay I know I'm being a little over dramatic but then again Freddie himself was always one for dramatics so fuck it.

Going into it I knew the cast was going to be epic. I mean besides my brother there was Rami whom we'd known for years now. He was phenomenal in anything he was in; hell he even made the women of the world want to fuck a mummy. He and Joe were the only ones I knew well enough. Another cast member was Gwilym who was a dead ringer for Brian May. He was also very sweet, gentlemanly, and professional at all times. Then there was Ben...

I met him on the first day of shooting when I went searching for my brother. I had just reached Joe's trailer when Ben left his.

“Hello,” he said. His voice was like honey; his smile sweet.

“Huh-hi,” I stammered like an idiot.

“You must be Joe's sister,” he said.

“Um yeah I am,” I said. “I hope he hasn't been saying anything embarrassing about me. He's kind of an ass like that.”

“Love you too sis,” Joe said swinging open his trailer door with a shit eating grin. “I see you've met Roger.”

“Ben actually,” he said.

“(Y/N) Mazzello,” I said.

“Pretty name for a pretty bird,” he said taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. “It's pleasure to meet you (Y/N).”

Life was never the same after that.

“(Y/N). Earth to (Y/N)!” Rami waved his hand in my face. “You alright there darling?” Rami had a habit of staying in character even after the director yelled cut. Bohemian Rhapsody was no different hence the Freddie accent.

“Huh? Oh uh yeah,” I said snapping out of my daze. Ben started toward us then.

“Oh I see,” Rami smiled walking away.

I eyed him suspiciously as he walked towards my brother throwing Ben a knowing smile as he did.

“What's going on with him?” Ben asked when he reached me.

“I don't know. I quit trying to figure Rami out years ago,” I said. I could see Rami whisper something to my brother; something that made Joe's eyes grow wide and dart in our direction. “That mother—!” I gasped.

“What? What's wrong?”

“I might have to kill him,” I said. Ben peered over at Joe and Rami.

“Which one?”

“Fair point,” I said. “I'll get Rami you get Joe.”

“Okay but may I know the reason?”

“Is 'Cardy B' not reason enough?” Ben cringed.

“Fair enough,” he said. “What's the plan then?”

“I don't know,” I muttered. “I suppose we have to make it look like an accident unless you want to spend the rest of your life in prison.”

“Make what look like an accident?” Rami said now standing behind us. Joe was over by Gwilym whispering something to him.  

“Can we help you my cheeky little shit of a friend?”

“Ugh you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Can it Freddie what's the deal?” I said not in the mood for anymore of his bullshit.

“Well if you must know your darling brother and I have decided to throw a wrap-up party at your house,” he said.

“Sounds fun,” Ben said.

“Oh believe me it will be,” Rami continued. “There will be booze, food, music, and possibly sex.”

“I swear if I see Joe dry humping Cardy B I'm out,” I said.

“Oh dear god I might have to stab my bloody eyes out,” Ben said.

“Don't worry if I see anything happening with Cardy B first you'll know,” I said. “I will gladly drag you away.”

“Thanks love,” he kissed my cheek.

“Oh look Roger you made our little princess blush,” I punched Rami in the shoulder. “Fuck,” he groaned.

“Can't say you didn't earn that one mate,” Ben laughed. “But you will be my date won't you?” he said looking at me.

“Wuh? Me really?”

“Yeah it's your house anyway,” Ben said. “Besides that blush looks rather lovely on you.”

“Uhhh...th-thanks um...yeah I'll-I'll be your um date,” I said.

He walked away then to change out of his Roger outfit.

“I really hate you right now Malek,” I said.

“Love you too (Y/N),” he said following Ben towards the dressing rooms.

The night of the party finally came a few weeks later. Rami was the first to show with Lucy (who portrayed Mary in the film). Gwilym followed a few minutes later with his girlfriend, and lastly was Ben. Unfortunately Roger and Brian had to get back on the road for one their upcoming shows and couldn't make it so it was just us younger folk.

We sent them a group video message wishing they were there and how much we missed them. Once that was sent the party officially began.

A few beers and shit talking later...

“Hey anyone up for a game of truth or dare?” Rami asked.

Everyone said yeah except me. What can I say I'm a bit of a chicken shit.

“Come (Y/N) just think about it. Freddie was fearless right?”

“Well yeah I guess.”

“And do you really think if he were here right now that he'd want you missing out on something fun out of fear?” DAMN YOU RAMI MALEK! DAMN YOU!

“Fine...for Freddie,” I gave in.

“FOR FREDDIE!” Everyone said in unison holding up their beer bottles in honor of the late and great legend.

“Alright (Y/N) you go first,” Rami said smiling.

“What the fuck that wasn't part of the deal?!” I snapped at him.

“Hey remember: fearless.”

I turned to Ben. “We're killing them tonight.”

“Agreed.”

“So (Y/N) truth or dare?” Joe asked also smiling suspiciously. It was then I realized he and Rami were in cahoots and what exactly they had planned I didn't know...nor did I think I'd want to know.

“Dare,” I challenged them.

“Wow somebody's grown a pair of balls,” Rami said.

“Yeah and unless you wanna wake up missing yours I suggest you stop talking,” I said.

“Okay then (Y/N), my beloved sister to whom I wish nothing but happiness...”

“Just spit it out already,” I said.

“I dare you to have seven minutes in heaven with Ben,” I nearly spat out my wine cooler.

“Wuh?!” Both Ben and I said at the same time.

“That is too cute,” Rami said.

“You heard me,” Joe said. “Unless you wanna wuss out and take the punishment.”

“Which is..?”

“Skinny dipping in the pool for ten minutes.”

“Yeah no fuck that,” I said placing my drink on the table. I stood up and held my hand out for Ben. “Come on.”

Ben took a swig of his beer, placed it on the table, and placed his hand in mine.

We walked in awkward silence to my bedroom. Once inside we sat down on my bed.

“You know we don't have to do anything if you're not comfortable,” Ben said. “They'll never know.”

“Yeah except...”

“Except what?”

“I-I...”

“(Y/N) relax it's just me. You can tell me anything love.” He said placing his hand on my shoulder. “I won't judge or be a prat...I love you too much to hurt you like that.”

“Really?” he smiled and nodded. I bit my lip. “I love you too...and I've been wanting to kiss you since the day we met.”

I looked away feeling warmth fill my face. Ben took his hand from my shoulder to under my chin lifting my face to look at his. “Your blush really is lovely.” he muttered bringing his lips to mine.

From then on it was like there was fire burning within us. We kissed each other with a mix of gentleness and hunger. Eventually my hands found their way up his sweater; he quickly got the hint. He shrugged it off along with the shirt he wore underneath. He gave me the most innocent look. “Are you sure?”

I nodded feeling more fearless than ever.

I got up and turned around so he could undo the zipper of my dress. As the fabric fell Ben kissed the skin on my neck. He sucked on it all while clasping my breast in his hand. Suddenly there was knock on the door.

“Seven minutes are up!” Rami shouted.

I ran over to the door and locked it.

“Wait did you just lock the door?” Rami said.

“FUCK OFF MATE!” Ben said as I made my way back to him. I could hear Rami laugh as he walked away. I brought my mouth back to Ben's as I undid his belt. He kicked off his pants and his boxer briefs.

“Way to make a girl feel overdressed,” I said pecking him on the lips. He laughed then reached behind me to undo the clasp of my bra.

Once it was gone I turned and crawled onto the bed getting under the covers before slipping off my remaining item of clothing. I tossed my panties aside and motioned to him. He smiled and joined me under the covers spreading my legs with his knee. I could feel him as he brushed at my entrance.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” I whispered back as he pushed himself inside me. He waited a minute so we could adjust to each other (after all his thighs weren't the only thick parts of his body) then started moving.

He was slow, gentle, and insanely sensual.  Sense of time didn't exist when we made love. It was just in the moment giving each other the kind of pleasure we would never share with anyone else.

Finally some time later my body started to tense. “Ben I-I think I'm gonna...”

“It's alright love...fuck I'm almost there too,” he groaned.

I moaned loudly as I tightened around his length. I could feel him twitch inside me as he groaned and filled me with his warmth. Once he was empty he collapsed beside me.

“I am so sorry love I didn't mean to do it inside you,” he said breathless. “I swear...”

I cut him off with my lips. He draped an arm over me and kissed back.

I pulled back exhausted but kept my hand on his cheek. “If anything does happen because of this...I'm just gonna be happy it's with you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said.

And in fact something did happen because of that night... his name is Freddie Mazzello-Hardy.

A boy as fearless as his namesake and his mother.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

I love the way you write Bucky - maybe a drabble with an OFC would be fun? Something sweet? :)

Kittens and Connection

Pairing: Bucky x OFC  |  Word Count: 2465 (my drabble got away from me)

Warnings: Fluff and a little angst with a pinch of smexy

“What the hell was that?“ Bucky murmured as he paused in the opening of the alley he’d been passing.  When the sound came a second time, he took a tentative step into the dingy space and frowned.

It sounded like a baby but who would leave a baby here? 

He got closer to the dumpster and realized the soft crying was coming from beneath it. Panic filled him, and he jumped into action, shoving the dumpster out of the way. “Oh, thank god,” he sighed when he realized it was only a couple of kittens. But his relief was short lived when the pile of rags they were crawling over turned out to be the thin, grungy body of what had once been their mother. 

“Poor things,” he sighed, wondering what to do now. It was far too cold for them to be out here alone, and they were much too young to survive by themselves. The only thing he could think to do was take them to the vet’s office he passed on his walk every day.

Bucky pulled his scarf from his throat and wrapped it around the two kittens before tucking them into his chest and heading out of the alley. It was a quick walk in biting wind with the snow just starting to fall until he was pushing into the heat and warmth of the brightly lit but tiny office space.

“Hi, sorry I‘m just getting ready to close up so unless this is an emergency, I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow,” said the woman in the white coat.

Her shock of short cropped pink hair gave Bucky pause. “Uh… are you the doc?”

“I am.” She turned around and seemed to startle at the sight of him. 

He felt the same about her. She was beautiful but so different looking. There was a tattoo on her neck, paw prints which descended from behind her ear and more peaking out from the collar of her button-up shirt. Her hair spiked up on top of her head but was close-cropped on the sides and a vibrant dark pink, a ring pierced her left eyebrow, and a stud her nose. She wore copious rings and had lavender painted nails. 

He swallowed the lump in this throat and held out the squirming bundle. “I found these guys in an alley. Their ma didn’t make it.”

“Oh!” Her entire demeanour changed from wary uncertainty to concerned animal lover in an instant. “Room one.” She pointed. “Just let me get the door.”

Bucky headed into the exam room and set the kittens down on the steel table. They meowed pitifully, prompting him to scratch the white one behind its ear, and the orange one under its chin.

They looked young, but not so young they would need round the clock care. Both seemed abnormally thin, scruffy, and filthy, but they purred and scampered closer to climb with their tiny claws up his coat. “Hey. What’s the big idea, huh? No bigger than a flea and attacking someone bigger than you?” he chuckled softly and shook his head. “Should call you Punk and Rogers. You’re just like little Steve.”

“Oh, good! You’re going to keep them. I wondered,” the doc said as she walked in and shut the door behind her.

“Huh!” Bucky gasped.

“Well, you named them. That’s usually a good indicator of someone willing to keep what they’ve rescued.” She sidled up beside him and cooed as she tapped her fingernails on the table and drew the orange kitten to pounce on her hand. “I’m Lark Waverly, by the way, resident vet and clinic owner.” She smiled at him even as she bowled the kitten to its back.

“Uh… Buck-Bucky,” he almost squeaked.

“Well, Buck-Bucky, were your parents also bird lovers?”

“Huh?”

Her eyes were full of laughter. “Buck-Buck… buccaw?”

The chicken noise had a smirk twitching his lips even as pink burned his cheeks. “Cute, doll. It’s James, actually, but I go by Bucky.”

“Ah, so it’s my stunning good looks which made you stammer?” she quipped as she picked up the kitchen and looked it over.

“Somethin’ along those lines, yeah.”

She flashed him a brilliant grin and changed kittens. “So, James who goes by Bucky, you found them in an alley?”

“Yeah. Huddled up with their mom.”

Lark, for he could no longer think of her as the doc when her name fit her to a T, tsked sadly. “Poor babies. Good thing you found them. It’s cold enough out there they wouldn’t have made it through the night.” She worked in silence for a few minutes before giving a definitive nod. “You’ve got two rather thin but moderately healthy little boys. They need a bath and to fill their bellies, but I’d estimate them to be eight weeks. We’ll put them on soft food, deal with the filth and fleas, and see how they do.”

She shrugged out of her lab coat, and Bucky blinked at her left arm. Her shirt might be a button up, but it had no sleeves leaving her arm bare for viewing. The entire thing was covered in abstract ink with feathers and pretty birds.

“Wow,” he murmured before he could stop himself.

“I like my ink,” she said, throwing him a wink. “Roll up your sleeves, chicken man. Let’s get these two bathed, and I’ll get you what you need to get them started so we can both head home before the storm gets worse.”

“Uh…” Bucky hesitated but she arched a sleek dark brow, and he found himself shrugging out of his jacket under the don’t make me make you glare. He reached for the white kitten, the one he decided was Punk, only to have Lark’s breath catch.

“Oh, I see. Is that going to be a problem? Can you get it wet?” she asked, touching his hand when he pulled the glove off.

“You don’t have a clue who I am, do you?” Bucky asked, a smirk twitching his lips as he pushed the sleeve to his elbow, revealing more of his arm.

She frowned for a minuted, looked from his hand to the arm slowly being revealed and her eyes grew round. “My god… Bucky Barnes. Well, shit.”

Not quite the reaction he was hoping for, Bucky watched her pick up Rogers and take him to the sink where she began to run what he expected was warm water into the basin. “Is… am I… is this a problem?” he asked quietly, knowing a lot of people didn’t like or trust him still, even after all he’d done to prove he wasn’t that guy anymore. “I can take them somewhere else.”

Her head whipped around, a bright blush colouring her face. “No! I mean, it’s fine. They’re fine. You’re… f-fine.” Embarrassment seemed to flood her features and make her even more red-faced.

Arching a brow, Bucky picked up Punk and moved around the table to join her at the sink. Her hands shook as she reached for the bottle of shampoo above her, stretching up on her toes, and Bucky realized how short she was. Her fingertips just brushed the container, and he reached up and took it down for her.

“Hey… uh, I’m not gonna hurt you, dollface. If my being here is making you nervous, I can go wait out there.”

She snatched the bottle from his hand, twisted the water off with the other, and slammed the container down on the counter causing the two kittens to scamper toward him in fear. Lark instantly soothed their anxious mews with soft apologies and more of her quiet cooing, a sound which had parts of Bucky perking up in the same fashion as Rogers’ ears. 

“No, I’m sorry. It’s just… OMG, I’m such an idiot. You’re going to run for the hills,” she sighed and rubbed at her forehead. 

“Not much out there can make me rabbit, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “Just spit it out.”

She picked up Rogers and put him in the sink, slowly cupping water over him by hand as he protested loudly. “You’re… kind of my hero,” she whispered. “It’s stupid, and you probably hear it all the time, but your story, how you came back from what Hydra did to you, it got me through a tough time in my life. Real tough. So tough that my first tattoo was this one.” She shook water from her fingers and tugged the collar of her shirt to the side, revealing a portion of a logo Bucky knew all too well above her left breast. 

“Howling Commando’s, huh?”

“Yeah.” She went back to bathing the kitten trying to claw its way out of the sink. “Seriously abusive relationship. There’s a reason I’ve got a sleeve full of tattoos. I’m better now. Hearing about your life and what you went through, how hard Captain Rogers,” she paused and smirked at the kitten before continuing,  “fought to help you, it reminded me there were people in my life who would help me if I only asked. So I asked, and they got me out, and he went to jail, and now I’m here, living the life I want because a man like you was brave enough to sit down with a reporter and talk about his experiences as a Hydra pawn. You, Bucky Barnes, saved my life. I just never expected to get to tell you so in person.” She sighed as she rinsed the shampoo out of the little orange guy’s fur. “And now I’ve probably made you super uncomfortable. I’ll understand if you want to find a new vet.”

Bucky couldn’t seem to find his tongue. He took another look, a harder look, at her arm and realized the reason her tattoo was so abstract was to hide the thick scars embedded in her skin. Circles from burns and jagged lines as if someone had sliced her open with a serrated blade. No, he knew it was a serrated blade. He knew knives and the damage they did to soft, delicate flesh. He knew the circles were likely where the asshole had put out cigarettes on her skin, yet, there she stood, looking shy and embarrassed and completely uncertain when only a few minutes ago she’d been full of spunk and sass.

“Is that why you startled when you saw me? Because I reminded you of… him?”

“No. Not at all. You’re just a big guy. He was a big guy, but he would never have come in dripping water, holding an orphaned pair of kittens. Maybe for a second, I had a moment of damn, but that’s just knee-jerk reaction to big guys wandering in my door when I’m alone.” She never bothered to look up as she wrapped Rogers in a towel and handed him to Bucky to dry off before starting the same treatment with Punk.

“So I don’t make you uncomfortable?”

“Oh, you make me uncomfortable,” she muttered. “Just not because you scare me.”

A smirk turned up his lips. “So… if I was to ask you out to dinner, would that help or make it worse?”

Her head finally lifted, and she levelled him a stare with her warm chocolate eyes. “Both.”

He chuckled softly and gently touched her cheek. “I think you’re the most unique woman I’ve ever met. I’d really like to get to know you better.”

A smile curled her lips. “Do you have a fetish for hero worship, Buck-Bucky?” she asked, the woman full of sass returning. 

“Hero worship? Nah. But a woman with a mouth on her… yeah, I can get behind that.”

“Mmm,” she purred, and her eyes turned sultry. “How kinky for an old guy.”

He belted out a laugh. “Cheeky dame!”

“So… dinner?” she smirked.

“Yeah, darlin’, and if you’re a good girl, I may even give you dessert.”

She finished with Punk and began drying him off as well. “I figured you would have figured out by now, chicken man, that I’m no angel.”

“A devil can still be good when she wants to be,” he crooned stepping closer.

“Some of us were just born to be bad,” she teased, also stepping closer until only the two kittens separated them. 

“I could get behind that too, baby,” he purred, returning his hand to her cheek but sliding it around to cup the base of her skull. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so attracted to a woman before and found his gaze locked with her lush, unpainted mouth.

“You keep talking like that, we may not make dinner,” she murmured. “How’s a girl to concentrate when you keep bringing up her favourite position?”

“Damn, darlin’,” Bucky growled and dipped his head down to taste that wicked, tantalizing mouth, only to have his phone ring and break him out of the lust induced haze he’d been wrapped in. “Fuck,” he hissed and released her to dig for his phone.

Growling at the call display, he answered it with a, “What do you want, Punk?”

“Where the hell are you? How hard is it to go get the beer?” Steve huffed.

“I got…” he smirked at Lark, “distracted.”

“Well, hurry up! We’re not holding the movie for you forever!” Steve paused before an exasperated sigh reverberated in his ear. “You met a girl, didn’t you?”

“Rescued a couple of sweet cats,” Bucky snickered. 

“Yeah? You need help?” Steve was suddenly all business.  

“Nah, I got it handled. A civilian assisted in their rescue.”

“Really?” Steve sounded impressed.

“Yeah. I’ll be back later. Start the movie and tell Stark to order in the beer.” Bucky hung up before Steve could ask any more questions. “How about that dinner, doc?”

“Well,” her eyes twinkled, “these two really should dry out before you take them home. We could always order a pizza.”

“Pizza’s good. Then,” he stepped back into her space, “maybe we can discuss these bad girl qualities of yours.”

Her brow arched, her smile turned wicked, and she sauntered away toward the back rooms of the clinic. “Maybe we can. After all, I live right upstairs.”

“Damn,” Bucky wheezed and looked down at Rogers. “I don’t care what Stark says. I’m keeping you two furballs.” They’d brought him to Lark, and he was already feeling the strong pull of his heart in her direction. 

When she leaned back around the corner and smiled at him, he knew he wasn’t the only one. “Coming, Sergeant?”

“Yeah, darlin’.” If he had his way, they both would be by the end of the night.

-The End -

[silverfootstepswrites]

Butterfly [6]

summary Please don’t call them knife-shoes...

Haku wrinkled his nose as he stared into Sakura’s haggard expression.

“Ugh. You look terrible. Did you eat breakfast yet?” he asked. He pushed past her, into the house. Palm pressed to her temple, Sakura shook her head. She watched him take off his shoes, lifting his suitcase into the entrance. She leaned against the door, staring at him.

“Haku, what’re you doing here?” Sakura demanded.

He reached inside his jacket to pull out his silver medal from the World Championships. 

“Season’s over. I’m here to brag,” he told her. 

She blinked. Rubbed at her messy hair. She headed toward the kitchen. 

“Didn’t you say that you’d come to rub the gold in my face? That looks like a silver to me,” Sakura called over her shoulder. Haku laughed, following her. He set his bag to the side and sat at the kitchen table. Leaning his elbows on the surface.

“Okay. So about that...” Haku replied. And she didn’t like the gleam in his eye as he looked up at her. 

“Let me stay with you for a bit. I want you help me work on my toe loop for the next season,” he requested.

“Hell no.”

Haku wheedled over morning coffee and toast. He had brought along all her favorite breads and custards from a bakery back in Sendai. He stacked them like an altar offering in front of her, rubbing his hands together. Eyes squeezed shut.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest. 

“I don’t skate anymore,” she reminded him. Haku nodded.

“Just coach me on the toe loop. I want to add another quad to my program,” he pleaded.

“...A week. And then go home,” Sakure relented. Haku’s eyes popped open. But as he grabbed for her hands, Sakura added a condition.

“And do not for ANY REASON, post on Snapchat or Instagram or whatever, that you’re with me.”

Haku deflated. The light going out of his eyes.

“No way. Come on!” he whined. Sakura glared.

He held his puppy dog gaze for all of five seconds.

“Fine,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair. Sakura rubbed at her temples. This encounter hadn’t made her headache any worse, but it hadn’t helped either.

Haku, who had taken a 10 hour ride down on the shinkansen, promptly fell asleep in the room she pointed out to him. She never went up onto the second floor, so he wouldn’t particularly be a bother to her there. She left a note for him on his door before she headed out to the rink. She stopped just outside the building to finish off a box of juice before she headed inside.

“Good morning, Sakura-chan!” Kushina exclaimed from behind the counter. Sakura grimaced. She was still wearing her sunglasses. Pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, she shook her head.

“Kushina-san,” she sighed.

“Heard you had a fun time last night. Don’t worry. I’ll keep watch for you. Go have fun,” Kushina continued to laugh. Sakura hurried into the rink. At least to get away from the volume of the woman’s voice.

Sakura dimmed the lights a little in the rink. She kept her earbuds away too. She was still feeling a little queasy and the bright lights and noise wouldn’t make it any better. Taking a deep breath, she removed her skate guards and stepped onto the pristine surface. 

At least the sound of the blades carving through the ice didn’t make her headache worse. Sakura let her body move. Muscles warming up as she did a few laps. Soon enough, she felt her joints begin to limber up. She turned backwards, toe pick hitting the ice. She spun counterclockwise. And as she landed, she heard the door creak open. Her left leg swung around, right knee bending. Her eyes darted toward the sound. 

Naruto waved at her. Face snuggled down into the top of his jacket. She smiled at him as she did another lap around the rink.

After about an hour, Sakura took off her skates. She let Naruto drag her to their house next door. Showing off the huge photo album where Kushina had stored all the newspaper clippings and magazine spreads of her. And Kushina had erupted scarlet when she discovered them giggling over it. She seized the album, whacking Naruto on the back with it as he howled with laughter. And Sakura laughed too, until tears sprang up in her eyes.

When she went home to shower, Haku stumbled his way downstairs. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

His hair had grown out in the few months she hadn’t seen him. He was a little thin, too. Which was normal after the competitive season. The gurgling in his stomach wasn’t. 

“We should go shopping. My fridge is empty,” Sakura called out to him from her room. She toweled her hair dry. The floorboards creaked as he stood outside. Staring at the framed photos on the wall in the hallway. 

Just like Kushina, Sakura’s mother had saved all the pictures and article clippings that even mentioned ‘Haruno Sakura’. The hall outside her room was practically wallpapered with all the frames. And along one section of wall hung all her medals from her junior competitions. She had never finished a competition off the podium, after all. 

“Why bother?” Haku called back through the crack in the door, “You can’t cook for shit.”

Sakura laughed as she dressed. 

“I can make salad and I can cook a chicken breast. Good enough not to die,” she corrected him. She shut her dresser. 

Haku booed her, sticking out his tongue at the very thought. And then her head popped out past the door.

“Or you can cook. You once asked me if you could microwave an egg to hardboil it,” Sakura reminded him. His eyes narrowed.

“... Salad sounds greeeeat,” he replied in the flattest voice imaginable.

Sakura grabbed some calico bags from the hall closet before they headed out. Haku glanced around the dirt roads as they walked. He kept his hands in the pockets of his designer hoodie. And then he scrutinized Sakura’s expression.

“So...” he hedged. 

Sakura looked over at him. Eyebrows rising.

“What’re you doing now that you’re not skating?” Haku asked. 

Sakura looked back ahead. “Oh. I’m working at my old high school. As the librarian,” she replied. His eyebrows pushed together.

“Is that fun?” 

Sakura shrugged. “I guess?” 

“Huh. Weird,” he remarked.

“Tell me about it,” she sighed. 

People stopped to greet them as they walked. Old ladies especially cast Haku calculated looks, smiling a little too kindly. He shivered a little as a particularly aggressive one waddled away.

“Why do I feel like a war criminal?” he whispered. 

“In a town as small as this, anything new is worth gossiping about. Bet the whole town will know about you by tomorrow,” Sakura replied as they stopped in front of the grocery store. The door slid open. Bell chiming as they stepped past the sensor. 

That night, they had a mediocre salad and dry chicken breasts. And despite his jokes earlier, Haku ate his food without complaint. They sat on the floor of the living room. Sakura brought out her laptop. And they watched videos of animals doing silly things until Sakura’s eyelids started to droop. 

“What time’ll you be back from work tomorrow?” he asked, watching from the doorway as she set her laptop on her desk. Plugged it in to let it charge. 

“I don’t know. Around 4? Do you want to meet me at the rink?” she answered. 

“Yeah. That ugly little place by the beach? OW!” Haku complained as she kicked his thigh. He tried to kick her back, but she dodged.

“Maybe work on some agility training while I’m gone,” Sakura mocked, grabbing the door frame. Planting her foot against his butt, she shoved him out of her room. Haku laughed as she shut the door in his face.

“Oyasumi!” he called. She could hear the floorboards creaking as he walked down the hall. Steps thumping up the stairs, towards his temporary room.

When Sakura arrived in the teacher’s room on Monday morning, Tsunade was waiting for her. Along with Kurenai and Shizune. Saw their grins. Sighed. She had already expected an ambush.

“Good morning,” Sakura said as she put her things down on her desk.

“Who is he, Haruno-sensei?” Tsunade asked, slapping her palms down on the tabletop. 

There was no point in beating around the bush.

“Just a friend. He’s staying here for the week. Thought the countryside would be a nice break from the city,” answered Sakura. 

“Oh. A friend?” Kurenai repeated in an odd voice.

“A friend,” Sakura confirmed. Eyes unwavering.

Tsunade deflated.

“You young people are so boring. Can’t even get a little decent gossip out of you,” grumbled the principal, straightening. 

“I heard he’s handsome, though,” Kurenai remarked. Shizune’s eyebrows rose.

“You’re married, Sarutobi-sensei!” Shizune chided. Kurenai made a face.

“So? Handsome is handsome! Is looking a crime now?” retorted Kurenai. Sakura shook her head as the other three women burst into laughter. She excused herself as quickly as possible, heading to the sanctuary of the library. To her surprise, the light was already on when she got there. She slid the door open. And Itachi turned to look at her.

“Ah. There you are. Good morning,” he greeted her. 

“Good morning, Uchiha-sensei. Can I help you with something?” she replied. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she moved past him to open up the blinds. Sunlight streamed into the library. Dust motes swirling around as she moved.

When she turned, Itachi was still there. Standing in the middle of the room. His hands in his pockets. 

“Yeah. Do you like museums?” Itachi asked her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Like a science museum or like a gallery?” 

“Like for paintings,” he clarified.

Sakura looked around the room. And then she nodded. “I don’t hate them. I like going to them once in a while,” she replied. Itachi took this in, forehead crinkling as he read her expression.

“Okay. That’s all I wanted to ask,” he told her. 

“Alright. Have a nice day,” she called after him as she watched him slip out of the library. And it wasn’t for the first time that she thought that Uchiha Itachi was really an odd person.

Naruto tracked Sakura down when the last bell rang after classes had ended. His bag slung over his shoulder. Buttons of his blazer undone as he ran after her.

“Nee-chan! Are you coming by today?” he asked her, waving his arm. Sakura stopped walking to let him catch up. He stopped his bike, one foot on the ground to keep it balanced. 

A thought occurred to Sakura. She reached out to tweak Naruto’s nose. 

“Yeah. And I’m bringing a friend,” she promised him.

The sound Naruto made when he saw Haku waiting outside the rink was not meant for human ears. His eyes didn’t seem to know where to settle. He slapped at Sakura’s arm, strange noises coming from his mouth. Haku stared at the boy, his eyes darting from him to Sakura. Concern written in his every glance.

“Naruto, this is my friend Shimizu Haku,” Sakura said, smiling.

“I knoooooow,” Naruto squealed. His hands pressed to his cheeks. 

“Uh. Hi,” Haku said, not stepping any closer.

As Haku sat tying his skates, his eyes flickered to Naruto, who was lurking in the corner. Near a potted plant. And when he looked closer, he could see a cardboard cut-out of Sakura wedged between the leaves. 

“Don’t worry. He’s harmless,” Sakura assured him. She got to her feet. Haku nodded, accepting her outstretched hand. She pulled him up. Together, they headed into the cold room. Glass doors swinging shut behind them. 

“So, Naruto is a huge skating nerd. And he’s been in love with you since your junior days. He’s like a little brother to me, so be nice,” Sakura warned him. Haku sighed. 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. He should see my official fan club,” muttered Haku.

“Oh. He’s a registered member,” Sakura replied. Before Haku could say anything at that, she stepped onto the ice. She glided into the center of the rink, arms folding across her chest.

“So. Show me. What’s wrong with your toe loop?” she asked. 

Minato walked into the lobby. Witnessed his son and wife pressed against the glass door leading to the rink. The ‘Closed’ sign outside told him that Sakura was here. But normally they would just go inside to watch her. She never seemed to mind. And when she was in a good mood, she even let Naruto pick the songs for her.

“What’re you two doing?” he called out. 

“Hush and get over here,” Kushina retorted, not looking at him. 

Chuckling, Minato crossed the room. He craned his neck to look over Kushina’s shoulder. 

He easily spotted Sakura’s pink hair. 

“Again! Your right leg is sloppy!” she snapped. And even muffled through the door, there was a sharpness to it. 

“I’m doing what you just did!” a man’s voice retorted. And as he skated over to her, Minato felt his jaw drop.

“Is that Shimizu Haku?” he whispered. 

“Uh-huh,” Naruto replied.

“Shimizu Haku is skating at our rink?” Minato demanded.

“Yeah,” Kushina answered.

And Haku jerked to a stop in front of Sakura, brushing ice shavings off his backside. 

“You can’t do exactly what I do, stupid. I carry all my weight here,” Sakura shouted, gesturing to her stomach and hips. And then she slapped her palm down onto Haku’s chest. And all three Namikaze’s gasped, like she had slapped a priceless vase off a pedestal.

“A man’s center of gravity is here. So obviously you can’t balance just like I do. You have to feel where your center is and adjust accordingly,” she went on. 

“Show me one more time,” Haku said.

Sakura huffed, pushing her hair out of her face. She pushed him with both her hands to the edge of the rink. Out of her way. 

“Look at my blade when I land,” she yelled to him as she skated away.

And then she hit her left toe pick into the ice, launching herself into the air. Elbows tucked into her body as she spun once, twice, three times. When she landed, it was on the outside edge of her right skate. As her left leg swung around, she turned to glare at Haku.

“There shouldn’t be any spraying when you land. You look like you’re making a fucking snow cone,” Sakura scolded. Haku skated over to meet her. As their voices softened, they couldn’t make out the conversation anymore. All they could see was Haku pointing at her foot, and then at her leg. Sakura replied as she put her hand on his hip and began turning him. Haku nodded a few times as he listened. 

“Two-time World Champion Shimizu Haku is skating in our rink,” Minato whispered. Naruto whipped his head around to glare up at his father.

“Nee-chan is a five-time consecutive World Champion, old man. Six, actually,” he growled. 

And then Naruto pressed his face even closer to the glass.

“I can practically smell the greatness from here,” he sighed. 

When Sakura and Haku turned around, the Namikaze’s scattered. Kushina pretended to be wiping the door while Naruto dove in the direction of a potted plant. Minato bent down to retie his shoe. 

Haku turned to Sakura. 

“You know how I always say you’re weird?” he asked her.

Sakura nodded, one hand on her hip.

“I take it all back. You’re not that weird,” Haku amended. “Not compared to them, anyway.” He jerked his chin toward the door. They watched Naruto throw himself away from the window again. It looked like he had been holding a giant fern frond in front of his face as a disguise. Leaning against Haku’s shoulder, Sakura laughed.

[ultimaid]

Sick Days

a request from the lovely @papayaromantic !!! she asked for a polysquad (richie who is dating both eddie and bill) taking care of a sick bill <3 this got pretty long so its under a readmore oh boy

_____

Bill Denbrough HATED being sick.

He was sick a lot more often than he would have liked to be. Today was particularly difficult—he woke up with a headache, was sweating so much that he thought his body might dry out completely, felt incredibly nauseous, and was also so dizzy that standing up was like playing Russian roulette, only the gun bullet was replaced with the possibility of collapsing on the hard floor. School was definitely not an option. His parents left for the day and he stayed laying in bed, eyes unable to close all the way, trying to keep from moving around too much.

Bill hated being sick, yes, but what he hated even more was being sick while alone in the house. He hated being alone anyways, especially after what had happened to Georgie, but sickness compounded that a hundred times over. He felt like his body was going to collapse in on itself. Even in the dim light of his room, everything felt overwhelming. His brain was stuffed up with thoughts and frustrations that were all muddled up with illness. The other Losers all knew how much Bill hated being sick and alone.

So, of course, as soon as they heard the news, Richie and Eddie were cutting school out of the picture to focus on helping Bill out.

Richie came in through the window. Bill would have been startled at the sound of a downstairs window opening if his boyfriend hadn't made a habit of this in recent months. He heard Richie moving around downstairs to unlock and open the front door for Eddie, and once both boys were inside, Bill had managed to sit all the way up as they came up into his room.

"What's the situation, Billy Boy?" Richie asked as he sauntered in, coming to lean against the foot of Bill's bed.

"Wh-what're you doing h-here?"

"Well," said Eddie, hanging back by the doorway, "you didn't show up to class. Obviously. So we came to investigate, and here we are."

Richie leaned over and touched Bill's forehead. "Describe the symptoms to Doctor Tozier," he said with a little smirk that made Bill smile.

Eddie swallowed a little. "Richie, if you get sick, I swear–"

"Easy, Eds, I'm immune to shit like this."

"I'm not holding your hand for a week if you catch anything."

"Wh-what, no hand holding for—for me, either?" Bill gave the best playful pout he could with the energy he had, and Eddie tried to roll his eyes, but both other boys could see he was trying not to laugh.

"We might share a boyfriend, but I'm not sharing your sickness." Eddie took one more cautious step into the door. "Have you eaten?"

"Uh, no."

"Well, fuck, babe." Richie got to his feet. "How's your body supposed to heal if you don't put anything in it?"

"If I e-eat, I'll probably j-just throw up or s-something."

"Won't know until you try it." Richie turned towards the boy in the doorway. "You ready to make some bomb ass chicken soup?"

Bill raised an eyebrow and glanced at Eddie. "Sh-should I trust his—his cooking?"

Richie turned and looked at Bill with mock offense. "Excuuuuuse me, are you doubting my skill at the art of sick-boyfriend-caring?"

"Not d-doubting it." Bill gave a weak grin and attempted to start getting up. "Just saying you d-don't need to do—to do all th-this–"

"Heyheyheyheyhey, mister, you get back in bed right the fuck now before you fall down the fucking stairs and kill yourself." Richie rushed over to physically nudge an indignant Bill back into bed, raising his eyebrows. "Eddie and I have gotcha covered, okay? You stay here. We'll check up on ya before long." He squeezed Bill'sshoulder before turning back towards Eddie. "Let's fuckin do it! I'll raid the shelves for soupy ingredients or whatever the fuck!"

As Richie ran downstairs, Eddie glanced over at Bill. "Why are we dating him again?" he asked with one eyebrow quirked and only a ghost of a smile on his face.

"B-because we love him, a-and he loves us?"

Eddie sighed deeply and looked away from his friend, turning towards the hallway. "You're right."

When Eddie got to the kitchen, Richie had already set up a pot, one raw chicken breast, a bowl of water, some pepper, and a container of dry pasta haphazardly next to the stove. When Eddie came in, Richie leaned against the kitchen counter, grinning widely. "Whaddya think? Nice rig, huh?" "Please tell me you washed your hands."

Richie was quiet for a second before moving to the kitchen sink and briefly washing his hands. "Only for you, Kaspbrak."

"Not 'only for me', because it'shealthy." Eddie followed suit once Richie had finished before turning towards the stove. "Do you.... know how to make chicken soup?"

"I assume you put the chicken and the water and the noodles all together and wait for things to get hot."

"I don't think that's how it works."

"You some kinda chef expert, babe?"

"No, I'm just pretty damn sure it isn't a three-ingredient deal."

"You bring a cookbook or something? Come on, it can't be that hard to improvise. Don't'cha trust me?"

Eddie squeezed his lips. "Mmmm, define 'trust'."

Richie rolled his eyes, kissed the top of Eddie's head, and headed towards the stove. "If you have any better ideas, feel free to share. I am all ears, Eddie Spaghetti."

"We have to put some kind of spices on the chicken."

"I got pepper."

"That's ONE spice, Richie."

"What else goes on chicken??"

"I don't know!!! Salt, maybe?? Uhh...." Eddie balanced on his toes and started pushing through a spice cabinet. "They've got dried rosemary and cinnamon...?"

"You're the one who had the spice idea."

"You're the one who wanted to underseason it."

"Just—" Richie came up from behind  Eddie and grabbed some spices from the cabinet, resting his chin on top of Eddie's head as he did so before moving back towards the stove and pouring the water into the pot. "You wanna put the spices on the chicken?"

"You fuckin' serious?? I am NOT gonna touch the raw meat."

"Jeez, it was just an offer." Richie stuck his tongue out at Eddie, who returned the gesture. "You can handle the noodles."

"How do I handle the noodles?"

"I don't know!! Uh... Put them in the water when it starts bubbling?" Richie turned the stove's heat all the way up. "That's how it always works on TV."

"How long do I leave them in for??"

"Until they get floppy, I guess??" Richie started rubbing spices on the chicken, a conglomeration of flakes and powders he had never even heard of before. 

"You okay to look after this once I put the chicken in?"

"What?? You want me to stay down here by the hot stove that could catch on fire—"

"I'm just gonna check on Bill, babe, okay? You are gonna be fine, it'll be two minutes, and the stove will NOT catch on fire because water can't catch on fire." He put the chicken in the heating water before quickly washing the meat juices off his hands. "Got me?"

"Please don't kiss him while he's sick."

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Yes, you were, I know you."

Richie pecked Eddie's lips with his own before straightening and heading back towards the staircase. "Guess you'll have to be the one to fulfill my gay quota for the day, sweetheart," he said with a wink and finger guns before heading out the door.

"Beep beep," Eddie called after him, though he was smiling in spite of himself.

When Richie got to Bill's room, Bill had obeyed his instructions and was still reclined in bed. He sat up slowly when he saw Richie coming in, grinning at the sight of the other. "How's th—how's the soup?"

"Souping along. You are gonna be magically healed when you ingest this shit. Got magic powers and all that." Richie plopped down on Bill's bed, a lopsided grin adorning his face. "How's Big Bill?"

Bill couldn't help but feel a little wobbly inside at Richie's smile. "I h-hope to fuck you're telling th-the truth, b-because I still feel l-like death is j—is just around the c-corner."

"This soup is gonna make you live FOREVER. It's gonna be fuckin' delicious." He reached over and squeezed Bill's hand. "Think you'll be able to eat it?"

"Maybe."

"Better than no! Hell yeah!" Richie beamed and leaned over to almost kiss Bill's cheek before remembering that he didn't want to pass any sickness to Eddie and just pulling Bill into a hug instead. Bill closed his eyes, leaning his head on Richie's shoulder, gripping the back of his shirt with loosely curled fists.

When Richie stood back up, Bill gave a little pout of his lips and leaned back. "L-leaving so soon?"

"I'll be back in five minutes with Eds and soup. It'll be worth the wait, you fuckin' know it." He shot Bill a wide smile as he started out of the room. "Don't move, okay? I am not gonna deal with a sick AND injured-from-falling-on-the-floor boyfriend today."

"I'll do m-my best."

When Richie got back downstairs, the kitchen was, thankfully, not on fire. The soup smelled at least decent and Eddie had made sure the room wasn't as much of a mess as it would have been had Richie been left in charge. Richie hugged Eddie close from behind, resting his head on top of Eddie's, watching the soup bubble.

"You think it's ready enough?" Eddie asked a few minutes later.

Richie shrugged. "The noodles are wiggly and the chicken doesn't look raw."

"But does that mean it's READY?"

"Eddie Spaghetti, you know as well as anyone in this shit town that I don't know fuck about cooking."

They decided to wait three more minutes. When that was up, Richie got the soup into a bowl while Eddie checked several times to make sure the stove was REALLY all the way off. The soup was at least hot instead of lukewarm, and the chicken was fully cooked, even if it was still in one huge piece and surrounded by limp noodles. They ruled the soup a success until proven failure by means of taste.

Richie handed Bill the soup when they got to Bill's room. "You prepared to feel absolute heaven on your tongue, babe?"

"N-not sure I am," Bill said in a teasing tone.

"We did our best," called Eddie from his place just inside the doorway.

Bill smiled. "Thanks, g-guys. I'm sure it'll be—it'll be great." 

He took the provided silverware and took a small bite out of the chicken. Richie and Eddie looked on, suspense written on their faces.

Bill swallowed. "Hmm." He looked at the soup. "I-interesting, ah, flavor combination."

Eddie leaned forward a little. "That's good, right?"

"Yeah. Y-yeah, this isn't bad." Bill took another small bite. "I mean, I can't r-really taste it all that—all that well, since I'm definitely s-sick and that's how sickness works, b-but it is definitely p-pretty good."

Richie turned towards Eddie and mouthed out the words 'FUCK YEAH'.

Bill ate a little bit more before looking up at the other two boys. "H-how can I repay you for y-you for your services?" he asked, chuckling a little behind the words.

Richie smirked and sat on the bed to slide over towards Bill. "Mmmmm... how about plenty of cuddling when you're feeling better?"

Bill laughed. "That can, ah— th-that can be arranged." He looked over at Eddie. "A-and Eddie?"

Eddie hesitated before taking one more brave step into the sickness domain. "I mean, this is what friends are for, man. But I guess a thumbs-up would be nice?"

Bill gave him a thumbs-up. Eddie returned the gesture, nodding.

Bill ate a few more of the noodles, and when he looked back up, he realized that he hadn't felt alone or trapped since the two other boys got there.

Maybe, he thought, a little chicken soup really does cure all sickness.