#drink a few beers and catch up on each other’s life

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

Thomas Daun (left) and Tobias Forge (right) in 2020.

Photo taken by Jimmy Johansson

[dumbbitchgalore]

tf141 hanging out together and finding out that old man!Price has a girlfriend 💫

The crowded pub bustles with the commontion of drunkards of varying degrees. Some slightly tipsy while others have decided to forgo their pants in the name of the King.

And then there's a group of men occupying a table at the corner of the pub. Simon with his balaclava on, Kyle with a cigarette between his fingers savouring the arcid flavour and Johnny ogling some girls on the other side of the pub.

All that was left was John, who makes his way to the table with four pints of beer. He sits down at the table with a grunt as he passes each on of the boys a glass. They all start chatting and catching up about everything's thats happened after Price's retirement.

Johnny begins to bitch and whine about the new captain saying how uptight he was critising everything the squad does that John would've probably turned a blind eye to.

John chuckles slightly, listening to them all talk about what's is going on with the taskforce. Despite the smile on his face, there is a bitter resentment inside of him, gnawing at him.

Useless, useless, useless

He takes a swig of his drink hoping that it'll calm his worries down. And lo and behold he receives a call from you, his baby. He smiles to himself and picks up the phone.

"Hey birdie, doing okay by yourself at home?" He asks softly.

That one sentence caught the attention of the other boys as they give each other quizzical looks. Who the hell could their former captain be talking to?

His mother, maybe his sisters? Nah, he wouldn't call any other birdie.

They listen to John's gravelly voice and breathy laughs as he talks to the mystery person on the phone.

What felt like hours to the boys and a few fleeting seconds for John, he hangs up and faces the group. He raises an eyebrow when he sees their faces contorted into expressions of confusion and curiosity.

"What?" John asks slightly defensively

"Who's the birdie, Captain?" Johnny asks with a tooth grin.

John shakes his head, "my girlfriend." he says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Their jaws drop to the floor. Shocked would be an understatement as to what they were feeling and thinking right now.

"You sure it's not schizophrenia, sir?" Kyle asks.

John huffs in annoyance. What the hell? Couldn't they just accept that John finally had someone in his life. A perfect little doll who patiently waits for him at home.

They all start to laugh obnoxiously, barking and howling as if they were witnessing a circus show. And John's irritation grew tenfold and he huffs a sigh of annoyance.

"Oi captain, why don't you show us a picture of your birdie and then maybe we'll believe ya. Or well just keep thinking that the sarin gas is still in your system." Simon says, followed by a cackle.

John rolls his eyes and opens his photo gallery and shows the trio a photo of you and him. The picture is of the two of you in bed, with you resting your head on his shoulder with a smile on your face as John is still fast asleep. Evidence of the previous night's lustful tendancies still apparent on both of them.

This time their jaws drop for certain as the tangible evidence is placed in front of them. You're beautiful, and that fucked-out, post orgasm face is something else. This isn't fair. How did Price get blessed with a beauty such as yourself.

Soap scowls and scoffs looking away and crossing his arms in annoyance. While Kyle gushes about how lucky Price his to hide his jealously rearing its ugly head. And simon simply stares at the photo with a discerning expression on his face.

John smiply smiles, his ego fuelled and his pride sky high.

"Well boys, I gotta get back to my doll. Maybe next time I'll bring her along." He exits the pub, leaving the boys all confused and jealous.

[propertyofwicked]

TAKE ME DANCING - LN

based on this request! ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧

warnings - smut! MDNI!! oral (fem receiving), possessive!lando (but also kinda cute - smut is marked ✿)

masterlist the playlist

the pulsating beat of the music reverberated through the club as lando and y/n made their way inside. the flashing lights, the energy, the sheer about of people everywhere was overwhelming, and she couldn't help but feel a little out of place.

this wasn't her scene; y/n would rather be sat in a beer garden, fearing she wouldn’t enjoy the loud music and drunk people bashing into her in a club. but lando - this was his type of place, he seemed to just exude confidence, especially in clubs, and especially when he wore that white shirt, the top few buttons undone.

lando noticed her hesitance, giving her a reassuring smile.

"don't worry, you wanna leave, we leave - ok? ," he said, squeezing her hand gently.

she nodded, trying to keep an open mind as they moved further into the crowd. the dance floor was packed, bodies moving mostly in sync with the pounding rhythm. lando led her to the bar first, using his grip of her hand to pull her closely behind him as they manoeuvred through the crowds of people, smiling occasionally at people he recognised. lando’s hand dropped hers, though not before pulling her close, so he could rest his tanned hands on the bar, leaning forward to catch the attention of the server.

“….and a double malibu coke,” he called out, trying to be heard over the music, before turning to y/n, checking that was what she wanted. she nodded at him quickly.

“and two shots of tequila please!” she added quickly, watching the server nod quickly before settling on lando’s intrigued gaze, “- the quicker im drunk, the quicker i’ll feel comfortable,” she called out, moving her head closer to his so he could hear her.

lando nodded at her, not one to discourage her, though it did concern him when managed to take back both shots without so much as a flinch.

"come on, let's dance!" lando shouted over the music, pulling her towards the dance floor with his free hand, his drink sloshing around in the other as he moved. y/n followed closely, still apprehensive, and still too sober, but lando’s energy was hard to resist.

she moved tentatively at first, unsure of her own movements, her hand reaching to pull her dress down as it rode up her legs. as the drink and music flooded her veins, y/n got into her own rhythm, her hips moving in time with the beat as lando’s hand rested on her hips, his own body moving almost in sync.

lando watched her with a mix of surprise and delight. he had expected her to tolerate the experience at best, and only for his benefit, but here she was, dancing with abandon, lost in the music. he grinned at her, matching the energy and enthusiasm.

“drink?” he asked her, bending down to speak directly in her ear. her hand grabbed the side of his face, keeping it next to hers as she replied with a loud yes, before moving him back to press a sweet kiss to his lips. she was about to follow him back to the bar but a familiar face came bounding towards the two of them.

“y/n in a club? im shocked,” alex called out, “i love your dress,” she added, holding y/n hands out as she stood back to take another look.

“thank you, you look gorgeous,” y/n replied, smiling at the girl.

“is charles here?” lando asked her, not really feeling like joining the girly conversation, to which she simply responded by point at the bar, “perfect - ill be back,” he continued, pressing a kiss to y/n’s forehead before walking over to greet charles.

he kept glancing back at y/n from the bar, half-expecting her to need a break, or to be looking at him, eyes begging him to come back. but each time he looked, there she was, dancing with alex, having the time of her life. the two men decided to join the girls on the dance floor, their hands full with a drinks for their respective partner.

as the night wore on, she showed no sign of stopping. despite not drinking much, y/n found herself emersed in the music, enchanted by the way lando’s hands stayed firmly on her waist as she danced, her back pressing into his chest with every movement.

there was something about the way she moved that made everything else fade into the background. lando could barely think straight, the desire to have her all to himself surged through him, and he found himself drawn to her like a magnet. and when she turned to face him, her eyes sparkling with joy and surprise, he couldn’t help but lean down, his lips brushing against the skin of her cheek before moving to her ear.

“you drive me crazy,” he told her, his voice deep enough to send a shiver down her spine, “you wanna go soon?”

“but im having fun,” she pouted, though he couldn’t see as his face was resting in the crook of her neck, kissing at her skin.

“so am i,” he replied, moving to hold her head in his hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead softly, before leaning down again to add, “but i think id have more fun with my head between your legs.”

her breath hitched at his words, a flush spreading across her cheeks. the intensity in his voice, the possessiveness in his touch, the way he said it so casually. lando’s hands roamed over her body as she pretending to think about his offer, continuing to whisper sweet, sinful promises in her ear.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

it only felt like a few minutes had passed by the time the two were stumbling through the front door of lando’s apartment. y/n remembers saying a quick goodbye to alex, before lando had practically dragged her from the club, though she followed him more than willingly.

lando groaned quietly as soon as his lips pressed on her inner thigh, his fingers pushing the hem of her dress up her body quickly until the fabric pooled on her stomach. his hands ran softly down the sides of her stomach, reaching the band of her underwear, tugging it down her legs, before moving to hold her thighs open for him.

it took one swipe of his tongue on her clit for his brain to grow blank. the grip on her thighs grew firmer, hard enough to leave little marks, nose bumping against her clit as his tongue travelled through her folds.

“you taste so fucking good,” he breathes, his face pulling back to take in the sight in front of him “fuck, angel, you’re so beautiful.”

then, he’s all over her again. lando’s lips wrap around her clit - he can feel himself growing hard at the whines she emitted for him. every flick of his tongue had her back lifting from the bed and her hands tugging at his curls, to which he responded with a quiet moan. the vibrations sent pleasure through her body, her brain turning to mush as she loosened her grip on his curls.

“do that again,” lando grunts, guiding her hands back into his hair, “keep doing that angel.”

his head is spinning, his tongue gliding through her folds before flattening against her clit over and over again. lando’s arm wraps around her waist, pulling her heat closer to him. his fingers to brush against her, coating them with her slick and circling her entrance before slipping his middle finger inside. only the first knuckle was enough to have her squirming beneath him, the arm around her waist fighting to keep her pushed down on the bed.

lando feels the way she tightened around him, desperate to feel him as he pushed his finger fully into her, pulling out quickly before adding a second. his tongue moved through her heat again, tasting her slick as he circled her clit, his fingers curling up into her.

“lan - fuck i-” y/n started, her grip on his curls tightening. her hips jutted up, pushing his face further into her heat as she reached her climax. his finger curl open and closed inside of her as her hips rocked against his face, the grip on his hair loosening as each second of her high passed.

“so good,” lando moaned, kissing at her clit. “taste so good. you can do one more, right, angel?”

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙘 ♡︎

characters: sub!gallagher x nb!dom!reader

warnings: usage of aphrodisiacs, exhibitionism, slight dumbification, thigh riding, dry humping, begging, cumming untouched, gallagher being an old man loser, just a mini drabble guys. nothing big (i say as i write down 1,7K words)

notes: @lufenianwol you knew exactly what you were doing when you sent me gallagher’s leaked idle animation didn’t you, you gayyyy🫵🏳️‍🌈 (im gay too😔)

sigh…

another day, another long work of hunting down criminals or outlaws who came to penacony uninvited and detaining them. the most time gallagher could ever get to de-stress were behind the bars, mixing up a drink his customers asked for or when with you. you were a fellow bloodhound, a high ranking one too, so never had enough time to spend some quality time with your tired lover.

but today, you wanted to be a little mischievous. and what was that on your mind? you slipped just a teeny weeny bit of aphrodisiacs into his usual alcohol in his personal flask of course! just a little. maybe a pinch or two. a bit of a sprinkle of magic as a gift.

or maybe even a whole mini bottle. but you won’t say it until your tired lover comes crawling over to you, huffing and puffing, whining whimpering as he begs for your help at “restocking” some of the alcohol at the backrooms.

at the other end of the bar, you watch with a barely hidden smirk whenever your lover takes a sip from his personal flask during his break times. each time he does, getting more and more intoxicated in the taste. you purposely chose one that tasted delicious and soft on the tongue, a way to reward him for his hard work of running after criminals and preparing him for what was about to happen.

he started out strong, as expected of a bloodhound officer. barely felt it, focusing on work, wiping a glass or two, mixing up a drink. but the more he drank from his flask, the more you noticed it. the little stuttering over his words, the slight flush in his cheeks, the jumpy way he reacted whenever you passed by him with a hand on his waist or lower back. that bulge in his pants. that damn delicious bulge that you love to bully.

shaking your head, snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you focus back on work to wipe the bar clean and serve the customers drinks and desserts of their liking. you and gallaher were a good pair to serve amazing cocktails after all.

finally, the rush hour had ended, meaning fewer customers. the fewer there are, the more noticeable gallagher’s show of being affected by the little sprinkle of magic became. at first, he tried to play things off as signs of cold, or just the warm and low lighting of the bar being the reason his cheeks are pink. hell, he even coughed a few times to make his act believable. believable to the nosy customers but never to you.

“[n-name]…” the man barely manages to muffle his whimper when calling out your name, low lidded eyes, hazy vision and slightly shaky hand tugging on your necktie. you hum, turning to him with a raised brow as if you weren’t the reason behind this panting mess in front of you.

“yeah? what’s up?” you ask, putting down the bottle on where it’s supposed to be as your hands come to rest on his waist. the rush hour just ended, the bar still had a few customers but they were either too drunk to care nor engrossed in their own sob life stories to share you two a glance. and gallagher was damn glad for it too.

“w-we, ahem, need to head to the backrooms. we’re running out of some beers and fizzy drinks in the fridge” he quickly clears his throat, hoping that no one had caught onto his little stuttering. you did, of course. you would catch onto anything your lover says or does. even the tiniest things. such as how he was trying to make it seem like an innocent half-hug when you could feel his cock twitch in his pants as he pushes his crotch against yours, hoping to conceal it while also giving you a little heads-up.

as if you needed the heads-up.

“alright. you can go first, i’ll come after you once i wipe my hands” you nod your head, watching as your lover disappears behind the door with a sign that read “staff only”. it was cute how gallagher was so trusting of you, never even thought for a moment how you could have been the one to drug his flask of alcohol. though, judging from his cloudy eyes and stuttering, you could guess that he could barely even think to begin with. how adorable of him.

soon enough, you follow after the steps of your lover, walking into the “staff only” part of the bar and later onto the door with the sign “backrooms”. the pretty decent sized dark room where the bar keeps their ingredients and drinks. the same exact room where your lover pushes you against the wall the moment you entered, shaky hands fumbling with the buttons of your button down shirt as he humps his hardened cock against your crotch.

“woah woah, puppy. easy now. what’s going on? i thought we needed to restock on our drinks?” you ask, feigning innocence as your hands rest over gallagher’s shaky ones, stopping his fumbling and managing to catch his attention for a minute. he looked so dumbfounded. bottom lip on the brink of bleeding due to his chewing, panting, cheeks flushed a pretty red as his dilated eyes try to focus on you. you swore he looked like he was almost on the brink of crying with how damn pathetic he looked.

“c-can’t… [name], please, help me… ‘s so hot, tight. stupid pants mmngh!” gallagher only moans, tripping over his own words in a jumbled mess as he tries to find some sort of relief for his poor aching cock. looking down, you could briefly make out a dark small patch at the front of his pants. he was so drugged that he couldn’t even tell that he was staining his own clothes with his precum. so cute.

you only hum in response, not bothering to do as he pleads as your hands rest on the fat of his ass, massaging them gently. he only whines, slurred words of how he wanted your hands on his cock falling out as he squirms in your hold. lowering yourselves down to the floor of the room, you shift gallagher on top of you to ride your thigh instead. flexing the muscles in them to make it easier for him as he whimpers at the feeling.

immediately, the man started to hump your thigh. salacious mewls falling out of his lips as he doesn’t even try to silence his loud noises, only dumbly trying to relieve himself as he rubs his clothed cock on your thigh. you could see the dark patch in his pants getting bigger, darker the more he rides your thigh. if he had his dick out, he would probably leave a mess all over your clothes.

“shh shh, puppy. the door isn’t locked, remember?” you chuckle, reminding him of where the two of you were getting naughty at. it was so cute to see his eyes perk up at the sound of your voice. more specifically, whenever you called him puppy. he really did lived up to that nickname, looking like a cute pup as he bites down on his lip.

one of your hands travel up to his chest, opting to play with his perky nipple as he let out a loud squeal at that. his chest was always so sensitive, making him let out the most delicious whimpers each time you roll, pinch or tug at the hardened nub. being so mean to not slip your hands under the opening of his button down shirt at the front, playing with his nipples over the harsh fabrics of his clothes instead. he just wanted your touch on him to relieve the ache pooling in his belly, would you be so mean to deny him of his wishes?

apparently, you would. the hand on the soft fat of his ass moving to rest over his hip, helping him hump his cock on your thigh as your other hand continue their brutal assaults on his chest. poor gallagher, can't even form a single word as his pleads fall out of his swollen lips in a jumbled heap of mess. you could barely make out your own name from it. the words sounding so muddled up as if the bloodhound officer couldn't tell the difference between reality and his drug induced feelings.

"[n-naaammmeee]... sniff pleasheee fuunnghh fucck!! p-pleashh pleaash pleeaasshee♡︎!! ungh!! guuunnhg♥︎♥︎! p-pretty pleaaseee♡︎?" gallagher whines helplessly, stuffing his flushed face into the crook of your neck as his movements become more sloppy and frantic. he was so close to cumming already, it was just so cute to see how easily someone who is apparently always in control to crumble over with just a little bit of thigh riding. and some sprinkle of magic added to the mix.

in an attempt to muffle his loud moans and stuttering of his breath, he hastily lowers the collar of your own button down shirt just a little bit more. just enough so he could bite down over the old, healing bite mark of his so he could attempt to muffle his pathetic noises. you only coo out in a mocking tone, calling him by that nickname again as you tug on his nipple through his shirt as debouched cries of your name falls from his lips over and over like a mantra. gallagher sounded like one of those old, broken down radios that only replay a single song that sometimes is in the bar.

with a final thrust and a meek little bounce on your thigh, gallagher releases into his clothes. the magenta red hue of his pants turning a darker shade as his cum pools into the materials of his pants, staining it as some of the translucent liquid drips down onto your pants. you could just wash them out later.

"done with your little show, puppy?" you ask, the hand on his hip squeezing a bit to snap him out of his hazy mind. instead, you got a shake of his head, his stubble lightly tickling the skin of your neck in the process.

"wan' more... wan' you♥︎" he mumbles, delirious and drooling, as he humps his still hard cock against your crotch, indicating what he craved so desperately. maybe next time you should check the dosage you put into his drink if he's gonna be drugged this heavily by such a small amount.

[dreamofbetterthings]

Finally Home Wolverine x mutant! Reader

Prompt: “I’ve spent forever thinking about what I’d say to you when I saw you again. Now that you’re here in front of me, I can’t seem to find the words.”

VIP: Logan Howlett aka Wolverine (Played by Hugh Jackman)

Universe: X-Men (Originally Fox), Marvel

Summary: Wade was a man of his word, and managed to get Logan back to his universe, right into the arms of someone he hasn't seen in ten years.

Warnings: This is a different ending from Deadpool and Wolverine. Minor spoilers for the plot. Reader is basically a modern-day avatar (The last air bender universe, not the Jake Sully blue folks lol) since all the good powers are already taken haha. Also, The Last Stand doesn't exist in this universe because I refuse to acknowledge the pain I had watching that movie.

A/N

Holy cow I took my boyfriend to see Deadpool and Wolverine, and we loved it! Originally, there were a couple of stories for these two individually that I had in my WIPS, but I just needed to get a couple of stories out while the movie was still fresh in my mind. The ending might be a little out of character for Wade and Logan, but I had no idea how to end it, so it is what it is. Once again, minor spoilers ahead for the film. I'll have another one out soon for you all.

Enjoy!

Logan was never one to be straightforward with his emotions. Nobody knew what he was thinking, or how he felt about anything. The only thing he managed to convey was anger and rage. Not now though. The party at Wade's apartment was in full swing, and everybody was having a good time knowing their existence wasn't on the verge of collapsing.

Almost everyone, anyway.

Logan sat on the couch and watched Wade interact with his friends, his newfound family, and that damn dog. He watched as they all smiled and joked with each other, passing food and drinks about. It was a domestic life that he hadn't quite learned to adapt. He almost did though, with you. Logan pulls a photo out of his jeans and a melancholy look spreads across his face as he looks at it.

"That's not fair, you can teleport!" Brushing what was left of the water balloon off your clothes, Kurt shrugs his shoulders. "You'll just have to be faster and catch me!" You quickly aim before he disappears again, leaving you without a target.

It was a sunny day, thanks to Storm, and Charles decided to give the students a break. With so much going on in the last few months, everyone was exhausted. He thought it would be a good idea to set up a pool and let everyone relax. Most of them were just kids after all, and they were pushed so much harder than they needed to be for the sake of a world that won't always accept them. They yearned for a day to be themselves, to be kids, and today, was that day.

Everybody was outside either in or by the pool. Students were chasing each other with water balloons and water guns. Others were taking turns jumping into the pool, or playing water polo, or volleyball. There was a barbeque off to the side when the kids got hungry, and of course, alcohol for the adults. The sun was out, and it gave a warm contrast to the nippy water of the pool. The X-Men team, the adults anyway, were sitting in lounge chairs or standing around, making sure the kids were being careful and not hurting themselves. Storm was even walking around and taking pictures of everyone having fun, mentioning she wanted to get them developed and put in a scrapbook. A memento of when life was easier and calm.

Then there was Logan. Off to the side drinking a beer, watching everyone have a good time. He wasn't much for the domestic life, as he didn't make a habit of getting close to people. But, these were his people, and he was thankful to find a community that accepted him as he was, even if he would never say it out loud. He watched all the kids run around, but his eyes always found their way back to you. You looked happy and relaxed, even when chasing Bobby or Colossus around with water in your hands. This was a huge contrast from how you looked during the missions you went on. It was a good look for you.

Logan was pulled from his thoughts when a sudden burst of cold hit his chest. Looking down, he noticed his once-dry black shirt was sticking to his body, water dripping from it. All the kids gasped and stopped their movements. Charles looked at his friend, a slightly amused look on his face. He looked around, trying to figure out who had just signed their death wish before his eyes once again landed on you. Standing next to the pool, you looked around, pretending like you didn't just water bend to hit him from across the yard. Logan did something that confused everyone. He simply grunted, wiping off his shirt before taking another drink of his beer. Everyone relaxed and continued to have fun, although slightly surprised at the lack of reaction from the stoic man.

You had stopped the antics and started talking with Scott, asking him how things had been with him and Jean. The last mission put a bit of a strain on their relationship. Your back was to Logan, so you didn't see when he put down his beer and started to creep up towards you. Scott noticed when he finally made his way behind you but decided not to say anything. After finishing his sentence, Scott quickly excused himself and stepped away. That was when Logan decided to grab you from behind.

You screamed from suddenly getting picked up and tried to reason with the man as he walked towards the pool. "Logan, come on, let's talk about this for a second. You don't have to do this. I'm sorry, please just put me down!" Unfortunately, your pleas fell on deaf ears, and the others sat there laughing as Logan hurled you into the pool. The kids all yelled in excitement. They'd been trying to get you in the water for hours. Had they known it was that easy, they would've splashed Logan themselves earlier. When you finally came up for air, everybody was laughing, and you even heard a couple of shutter clicks from Storm's camera.

Logan just stood there with an amused smirk on his face. You fake pouted before he came over to the edge of the pool with his hand out. "You shouldn't have splashed me." With a huff, you go over to meet him at the edge. "You don't sound too sorry about it." He pulled his hand away and shrugged his shoulders. "Alright, I won't help you out." "Okay, okay. I accept your apology. Would you be so kind as to help me out of the pool?" He reached his hand back out, and you happily took it, only to shock him by pulling the man with all your strength into the pool with you. This got everyone laughing. Scott laughed so hard he fell to his knees. Logan finally came up for air, his poor shirt clinging to his body for dear life, and wrapped his arms around you to keep you from getting out.

He was smiling.

He didn't smile often, and it always warmed your heart to see those pearly whites. Storm ran up and managed to get a couple of photos of the two of you before running off again. "I think that makes us even." You shake your head. "Not even close, however, I don't want the entire school to think you aren't the brooding mysterious man that you waltz around as.” Leaning close to his ear you whisper so the kids can't hear. "So, if you want, you can make it up to me tonight." Logan stays frozen in place, his eyes following you out of the pool to look for a towel.

Storm had the photos developed later that night and slipped a couple under Logan's door with a note. "Don't worry, I didn't put these in the scrapbook. I think the fourth will be your favorite." - Storm

Logan's eyes welled with tears as he held the photo. She was right, the fourth photo was his favorite one. The two of you were soaking wet in the pool with your arms around each other, smiling towards the camera. The picture got crumpled over time, always in his pocket or folded out of reach, but he kept it.

He missed you.

Dear god, he missed you.

Your body was never found when the mansion was raided. He always assumed you were taken and experimented on. He would've rather you be killed instead of kept alive and tortured for who knows how long. After looking for you for what felt like forever, he finally gave up, assuming you were dead. The crumpled-up picture was the only thing he had to remember your smile, your laugh, you.

Logan blinked the tears away when Wade approached. "Hey there peanut. You got a second?" A grunt left Logan's lips. "What do you want?" The self-proclaimed marvel Jesus took his hand and pulled him towards the door. "I got a surprise for you, I think you'll like it. Don't worry about the party, we'll be quick." As the two men walk out the door, Wade pulls a TempPad out of his pocket, and Logan starts to protest. "I'm not about to do more universe jumping with you. Once was enough." Wade nods. "I understand, but I think you might change your mind once you find out where we're going." Before Logan can say anything else, he is pulled through a portal into a hallway that looks like a carbon copy of the one he was previously in. "I swear if I have to listen to another one of you assholes I'm going to kill you both." Wade shrugs the comment off. "It's not another me." He gets serious for a moment.

"I know I lied to you about being able to fix your universe, and I'm sorry. However, I did jump around and find someone that you've been missing for ten years." Wade knocks on the door and then steps back. It opens a few seconds later.

"Logan?"

You stood there, shock and disbelief on your face. Without a second thought, both your feet move until you collapse in each other's arms. A sigh of relief leaves the broken man's mouth as the war in his mind begins to subside. "It's me bub. It's me." Tears spill down your face as you hug the man who you haven't seen in years. The two of you finally pull away, and Logan turns to Wade. "How did you do this? I thought they were dead." The merc shakes his head no. "Took a while to track them down. I almost thought they were dead, luckily I was wrong."

A portal appears behind Wade as he reaches out to hand Logan the TempPad. "I couldn't fix your past, but I at least wanted to give you a familiar future. Don't expect you to, but come visit anytime. My door is always open. We'll miss having you around." Logan took the device from Wade's hands. He starts to walk through the portal before Logan calls him. Turning around, Wade sees tears in the older man's eyes. "Thank you." He nods, before walking through the portal, and everyone in his apartment smiles and waves goodbye, before it closes.

Logan puts the device in his pocket, before looking at his lost love. He reaches his hand out and touches your face, afraid that this is some sick illusion and you'll be ripped away from him. “I’ve spent forever thinking about what I’d say to you when I saw you again. Now that you’re here in front of me, I can’t seem to find the words.” You smile and take his hand in yours. "Well, luckily for us, we have the rest of our lives for you to figure it out." You begin to walk back into your apartment, Logan's hand in yours. He thought about visiting Wade again when the time was right, but right now, he had a life with you to catch up on.

He was finally home.

[ashwhowrites]

Could you write something about older!neighbor!eddie and reader being fwb and she get pregnant and doesn’t want to tell Eddie bc he always said he didn’t want kids so she starts avoiding him and looking for a new place to live. Eddie ends up finding out about the baby bc he comes over to readers place because she’s been kinda sick lately and wants to check up on her and ends up seeing the ultrasound pictures. He tells reader that even though he never wanted kids he’s going to be there for her and their child (up to you if they end up together or not)?? I love your fics so much 🧡🧡🧡

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting! <3

Baby on board

Y/N has been sleeping with her neighbor for the last four months. Yeah, as in fucking each other until they were panting messes. She tried just to be his neighbor, he was older and rough around the edges. She was young and lived alone. It was hard to act like Eddie was not dropping to her knees attractive. She had to act like she didn't burn at the thought of him. But when he showed interest? Of course, she went for it.

But fuck

What a bad fucking idea

~~~

"Congratulations, you are pregnant. The tests at home were correct." The doctor said, a bright fake white tooth smile. Y/N felt sick to her stomach, reaching for the trash as she emptied her insides.

Y/N left the hospital, her head spinning. She knew the baby was Eddie's. She wasn't sleeping with anyone else, and Eddie loved cumming inside of her. It was dumb on her part, but she can blame it on being young. Him? He has no excuse.

But she knew Eddie didn't want kids. He's in his forties, divorced, and spends his time drinking beer. He was at the stage in his life where kids left his head. Oh, and the fact he got into a divorce over kids in the first place.

She was an idiot.

~~~

Over the few weeks, Y/N tried her best to stay hidden from Eddie. She stopped answering his calls, refused to leave the house unless it was an emergency, and avoided him and his house at all times.

She had a few more appointments, now leaving the doctor with ultrasound pictures. She couldn't help but grow excited about being a mom. Sure, she'd be on her own, alone, and terrified. But she tried to not focus on that, and focus on the fact she was going to have a baby.

She thought about telling Eddie, but running away was easier. She couldn't face his disappointment or anger. It was easier to leave him before he could. She sat online and searched for a new place to live. With a kid on the way, she thought an apartment would be best for her to afford.

She didn't hide from Eddie as well as she thought. He paid too close attention for her to hide everything from him. He could see her exhausted body getting out of the car, carrying bags of medicine, ice cream, and who knows what else.

He was worried about her. She stopped talking to him out of the blue, and she didn't look well. She'd look in the direction of his house in fear, racing to her front door. His calls went unanswered, his knocks never allowed the door to open, and he couldn't get out of his house fast enough to catch her.

But today he was going to talk to her.

He walked out of his house, cursing at the cold and the snow beneath his shoes. He cuddled into his sweatshirt a little more as he walked a few feet over. He blew hot air on his hands then knocked.....and knocked.

"I KNOW YOU'RE HOME!" he yelled, but no answer.

"I'M NOT LEAVING UNTIL WE TALK SO I'LL FREEZE OUT HERE ALL NIGHT. IF YOU CARE ABOUT ME, I THINK YOU WOULDN'T WANT THAT!" he was too old for this shit. He felt like a child locked him out of his house and was laughing at him on the other side.

But when she opened the door, she wasn't laughing. She had a blanket over her body, her eyes bloodshot, and her skin pale.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" He rushed out, he pushed himself inside before she could protest. His shoes kicked off as he began to rub her arms.

"Just sick." She shrugged, it wasn't a whole lie. She technically was throwing up.

"Oh, baby." He said, wrapping his arms around her. She cursed at herself for melting in his arms. For sneaking an inhale of his scent and shuddering against his hard body. His facial hair scratched across her forehead as he planted a kiss.

"Let's get you back in bed and I'll make you some soup." He said. She almost wanted to laugh at the irony. Here he was, acting like a perfect caring partner. But he didn't want that with her.

She didn't say a word, trying her best to push her feelings aside. She was moving away from him.

After Eddie tucked her in, he walked down to her kitchen. He tried to remember the few times he was over and watched her cook. As the soup heated on the stove, he looked around. His eyes caught black and white photos. Curiosity took over as he grabbed the photos.

His stomach twisted in uncomfortable ways, all tied in knots as he took in the ultrasound. She was pregnant.

He knew it wasn't right to be mad at her, but he was clenching every part of his body. He knew getting involved with a younger girl was a dumb idea, and it was even dumber to fall for her.

He grabbed the pictures, turned off the stove, and marched upstairs. He knew he should be calm down and not make her feel worse, but he couldn't.

"Where's the soup?" She asked, her teasing smile fell when she saw him holding the pictures.

"What the fuck is this?" He snapped, she felt her body tense at the anger in his voice. She knew he wouldn't be happy about this, but she didn't think he'd look so pissed.

"Ultrasound pictures." She said quietly, she feared for what would come next.

"That's why you've been avoiding me? Because you've been pregnant with some other bastard's baby?" He growled, angrily throwing the pictures at the bottom of her bed. He wasn't sure what the feeling was in his stomach, but the thought of some other boy being with her, inside of her, and connecting himself to her made him sick.

But that's not what she expected.

"What!" She was shocked. She didn't think for a second Eddie would think she was off sleeping around. She didn't think he was, but now she felt sick thinking about that too.

"You could have been honest and told me to fuck off. Instead, you have me chasing you, and now I look like an idiot." He argued.

"I've been avoiding you because the baby is yours." She said, simple and straight to it. She watched as his angry act dropped. His eyes are wide and his jaw is open.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Eddie sighed, he felt guilty for getting so mad at her.

"I didn't say anything because I know you never wanted kids and I couldn't handle you hating me." Her sad voice broke his heart.

"Oh baby," he sighed, he walked over to the side of the bed. He dropped to his knees and held her hand.

"I need to be honest with you." He said, she swallowed nervously.

"My ex and I weren't exactly in love. We were two people living together. I didn't want kids and we got divorced. I figured I wouldn't want kids with anyone, but you changed that." He explained, Y/N was confused, and he could see that.

"I've been too nervous to ask you out because I figured you wouldn't want a future with someone who's kinda ahead of you. You're so young, and I figured you wouldn't want to settle down with a guy who couldn't give you a family. But I did." She felt her heart race as his voice got stuck in his throat. His brown eyes filled with water.

She squeezed his hand and he kissed her skin.

"I fell in love with you. And I've spent so many nights dreaming of having little versions of us running around. I adore you and I want even more of you. To have one more of you or as many as three. Be connected to you for the rest of my life." His words caused her eyes to water as well. She feared he wouldn't want the baby or her. But hearing he dreamed of both filled her with so much hope.

"I love you too." She smiled, sniffling as he smiled back.

"Let's have a baby!" He cheered, his tears falling as he cupped her cheeks.

"A baby!" She repeated, laughing as Eddie smothered her face in kisses.

Eddie pressed his lips against hers, his hands covering her cheeks. She kissed back, her hands on her lap as she melted into him.

"Gonna be the best dad ever, promise." He whispered against her lips.

"I know you will be, Munson."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 | Francisco Morales x reader

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | working your summer job you find yourself fawning over a boy you barely know, realizing by the end of the summer that letting go of him may not be the best idea.

content warning | young!frankie morales, reader is working in bar (if there’s some things wrong, just know i tried fjsjsj), background tf boys, phone texts, inebriated hook ups (frankie is a lil drunk but he’s okay i swear) smut out the wazoo, oral (m/f receiving, protecting p in v, hints of voyeurism, idk let me live in this dream pls

word count — 7.5k

The bar was supposed to be easy cash, a second job you picked up during the summer, between the interim of your final year of college and the beginning of your life—just some extra money to keep you afloat amongst the drowning seas of tuition debt. But, the job came with unexpected challenges—rude customers, drunk customers, (given that you worked in a bar you really couldn’t fault them) but it was the rowdy ones that really got under your skin. And you quickly learned the unspoken schedule of customers as they made their weekly round for a few drinks, some over-fried bar food, and a game of darts or pool.

Monday through Wednesday were some of your more favorite days, friendlier people who liked to visit earlier in the day before the bar got packed after sunset, some relaxed chit chat and a beer or two. They tipped very nicely, too.

Thursday was the slowest of the week, co-workers sliding in to catch a game of pool or watch some sports game on the old, ratty television tucked in the corner area of the bar, even with you squinting your eyes it was still barely visible and they almost always left the biggest messes at their table—but again, you couldn’t complain when it was only a few tables you had to scrub down.

Friday was always busy, the weekends just as bad—from open to close you were shuffling around behind the bar, in tune with your co-workers as you moved around each other. You knew some people by name and some would politely remind you—you saw about a hundred different faces every week, some were bound to slip through the cracks.

But, within your first week there, you found a particular group of boys would show up every Friday without fail—a few rounds of beers, a mountain of wings and fries and whatever else they could get their hands on, and a game or two of darts and a pool table they had just to themselves.

The charmer, Santiago, was the first to introduce himself.

A crisp hundred dollar bill slipped over in advance with a softer tone, “I’m apologizing in advance, they tend to get a little, uh, loud.” It wasn't the right word, but you smiled nonetheless, still checking the money behind the counter in case he tried to slide you a fake and mask it with a simple courtesy that wasn't shown often. Kindness. 

You start their tab, grab their orders, and within twenty minutes their voices are already booming over the rest and arguing about a stupid game of darts, three other boys crowded around Santiago as their faces are within an inch of the board, fingers pointing all over.

There is a straggler, though—a man who’s similar in age to most of the boys, late twenties maybe? He had to be close to your age or just a little older but the sodden expression on his face made him feel much older, sipping at the round of beers you had brought by as soon as Santiago headed back for the table.

They call him Catfish, whatever that means—and it seems like they all have nicknames for each other and you wanted to ask, but it didn’t seem worth it. Your Rolodex of names in your head was already bursting at its seams and Santiago was the only one you could bother to remember, especially when he’s sliding over a chunk of cash in advance rather than blowing up his tab and then scrambling to pay.

For a few weeks it’s just that. They come in, Santiago pays, and then they spend a few hours in the back of the bar arguing like boys, rather than men. But, they always leave you a hefty tip when they don’t fill out their tab or when they go over and pay it out and then some. 

And naturally, you’re curious. About them. About him.

So, when Catfish comes in on a Saturday night completely alone, that curiosity does get the better of you.

He doesn’t make much of a scene, sliding into the bar stool instead of taking up a table, and seeing how busy it is, he waits—quietly and with a faint smile on his face that you catch a few times in passing, refilling cups with ice and offering a polite smile back.

When you finally get to him you're slightly breathless, wiping your hands on the towel tucked into your back pocket, “Hey, sorry about—what can I get you?”

“Just a beer,” He says with a shrug, promptly sliding over a twenty as you pour and hand off the glass.

“Where’s the others?” You ask curiously, an attempt at casual conversation despite selfishly wanting to know.

“A party,” Fish explains, “Benny won his tournament so they’re celebrating that.”

The name sounds familiar but you can’t quite place it.

“The younger one,” He adds with a subtle smirk, seeing the furrow in your brow of you thinking too hard.

“So Benny, Santiago—but you get stuck with Catfish?”

It can’t be his actual name, but they never use anything else.

“Francisco,” He takes a generous sip of his beer before setting it down, tapping his fingers idly against the surface of the bar, “—but, just Frankie. If that’s easier.”

You tilt your head with a genuine smile, putting a name to a face and it feels fitting, the hat suffocating his mop of hair, curls peeking around the edge of his hat and the dark colored tees he always wore, some sort of dismay always written on his face. You can’t explain it, but it works for him.

Frankie. Francisco. Catfish.

“Well, Frankie—if you need anything just yell. That’s probably the only way I’ll hear you,” You tell him with a laugh before attempting to depart—the bar isn’t too bad at the moment, all customers dealt with but the roar of the bar is loud.

“Well—wait,” Frankie half shouts, grabbing your attention, “what’s your name? I gave you mine, seems fair to ask.”

You tell him with a shrug, “But, I only ever hear honey or sweetheart all night, so really, I’m whatever you want me to be.”

Frankie chuckles at that, looking away briefly as if to busy his mind with something else and you slip away then.

You don’t ask why he came alone—why he would skip out on a party with the men he came here every Friday night with—maybe he needed a break. Alone time. It wasn’t your business.

But, one Saturday becomes another. And two months later he’s come by every Saturday. Alone. And giving you his undivided attention. It’s sweet, you’ll admit that. 

He isn’t as closed off on Friday’s when he arrives with the other boys but isn’t as outwardly friendly as say, Santiago would be during that time. But, Saturdays—he’s a whole different person. Lighter. Happier.

He only ever orders one beer, makes small talk, and lately—he’s been walking you to your car. So, not only is he nursing that beer over the four hours left in your shift by the time he gets there, he’s waiting for you. To clock out, that is.

Really, it’s against your better judgment. Allowing a total stranger to know what you drive, where you park, what time your shift ends, but Frankie is a… friend.

He isn’t like most of the customers, terrible at small talk and flirting and only making half-assed, nasty comments toward you when they get a few rounds in. 

He’s seen it a few times. He never berates the guys, but he does pull your attention away, occupies your mind, and always manages to slip in a few words that make your legs go weak and encourage the dull throb between your thighs—even if it’s just a smile and an apology on their behalf. 

Frankie always shows interests, ask about you and your life in the politest way he can without seeming like a complete creep—you can tell he doesn’t flirt often, by the way he’s quiet around his friends when you stop by their table or how he never asks for your number despite twirling his phone in his hands idly most of the night, trying to seem occupied but mostly staring at a blank screen until he finally gains the courage to ask you another question.

The first night he walks you to your car it’s quick—he stays until you close up for the night and walks around back, a careful and watchful eye on your surroundings as he nods and wishes you goodnight with a half-hearted smile, kicking himself in the ass for not just asking for your number.

And it continues like that for weeks, within those couple months, and gradually Frankie bursts out of his shell little by little until you both are giggling one night over a particularly rowdy customer, having gotten himself arrested for indecent exposure and broken a table. 

His hand grazes your lower back as you walk out, a genuine mistake but you turn your head toward him quickly, soothing his worries with a smile as you stick the key into the lock.

“Don’t worry about it,” You tell him with a comforting tone, “I’m used to men being a little more handsy than that, so, if anything, you’re a gentleman.”

“Those aren’t men.” Frankie argues lightheartedly.

“Eh, men who act like boys,” You say, “they’re assholes either way you put it.”

Frankie nods, readjusting his cap on his head as he pushes his fingers through his hair.

You twist the keys in your hand and start the walk toward your car.

“Do you ever take that thing off?”

Frankie’s eyes dart up toward the hat and he chuckles, hidden under the scruff and grown out facial hair, “No. No, not really.”

“Would you do it if I asked you to?”

He contemplates but never gives you a straight answer, forcing you to prod him gently with the end of your key, “Don’t worry—I won’t. Not yet.”

Frankie’s fingers curl around the edge of your door as he holds it open and watches you climb in, mind swimming with a million ways to ask what he wants, but it never comes.

But, you see it on his face immediately, the caution behind his eyes in being so forward with you.

“Ask for it,” You tell him, turning on the ignition to your car, still looking at him as he looms between you and the car door, “—unless you want to make me ask.”

Frankie looks away briefly and you laugh softly at his sudden unabashed expression as he smiles and turns back to you, “Can I have your number?”

You hold your hand out in wait, thumbing in your number the moment the phone finds your palm. You send yourself a short text with a smiley face to make sure it goes through and hand it back over, feeling a sudden flutter of anxiety in your chest.

Not good, not bad—but it is something.

“Put it to good use,” You warn him, “don’t make me regret that.”

Frankie smiles wider that time, his teeth peeking out behind full lips.

“Right,” He agrees, “absolutely. I promise.”

He adds a soft goodnight and you depart, feeling your phone buzz again before you even pull out of the parking lot.

[Unknown Number]: Goodnight

You snort a quiet laugh to yourself.

An hour later, a toothbrush tucked into your cheek as you stare down at your phone when it vibrates. You had half the mind to save his number despite your exhaustion from the shift you worked.

[Frankie]: Home safe?

[You]: Yep. :) Thank you for checking on me

[Frankie]: :) Goodnight. 

[Frankie]: Again lol.

It’s stupid—it shouldn’t make you smile. But, it does.

You quickly find every day occupied by Frankie in some form, through text or just the thought of him. He’s everywhere and you can’t seem to care—and you give up sleep in the middle of the night for text conversations that come from just wanting to hear from him, as nervous as you are to just call—you could, you knew he wouldn’t care. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You try to learn as much as you can about him.

[You]: Why Catfish?

It’s a random Tuesday when the text comes through his phone. He’s busy in class, cramming himself in as many hours as possible before he tests for his pilot license.

[Frankie]: Long story. Obnoxiously long. Why?

[You]: Just curious. It’s a strange nickname

[Frankie]: So what does that make me?

Frankie doesn’t get a response for a while and he knows you’re probably working, but he finds his fingers reaching for his pocket any time his phone vibrates in the hopes that it’s you.

[You]: Sorry. There was a mess at work. 

[You]: It makes you strange btw

[You]: I’m kidding. But, it’s still a weird nickname.

Frankie can tell it’s you from the constant buzzing and he takes a peek at his phone.

[Frankie]: Oh shit. How bad of a mess?

[Frankie]: I know. Maybe I can explain it another time.

You’re busy wiping the beer off your face as you look at his text, the security dragging out the guy who had splashed the glass of liquid back at your face.

[You]: Some asshole threw a beer at me. Nothing new. Clothes are soaked.

[You]: Don’t try to make a joke about that or I’m double charging you this Friday.

Frankie frowns at the implication that you think he’s first instinct is to make a joke at your expense, but you can’t help to protect yourself from the behavior you’re used to from most men.

[Frankie]: Do you need me to bring you something? I can stop by on my way home?

[You]: I’ll survive. Thank you, though. My shift is almost over.

A couple days later you end up going down a fireshot line of questioning to get to know him, much to his surprise.

[You]: Okay. Birthday?

[Frankie]: April 2nd. 

He returns the question to which you answer but add on another text with a joke at his expense.

[You]: Damn, a day short and that would be perfect for you. So, you’re an Aries.

[Frankie]: Yeah, whatever that means.

You laugh to yourself, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you walk through your local grocery store to pick up items for dinner that night.

[You]: It fits you. Oh! What do you do for work?

[You]: Fair game since you know what I do.

[Frankie]: We’re all in the army. I work on aircraft.

Oh, that’s…not what you were expecting.

[Frankie]: It’s new. I’m trying to get my pilot's license right now. I’ve got a big test coming up for it.

[You]: That’s so cool! Take me for a ride sometime?

You smirk to yourself as you press send.

[Frankie]: Yes.

You look ridiculous smiling at your phone in the middle of the aisle but you can’t help it.

In the army. A pilot. And a gentleman? Or, at least he’s provided himself to be nice enough. You were both young, so it didn’t surprise you that you were both unluckily single. But, Frankie seemed like such a catch—and it terrified you how badly you wanted him. Even in the simplest form. 

A friend, a best friend, even. Or more, definitely more. But, you didn’t mind either way.

He’s due to take the test for his pilot license the Monday after your last shift, showing up with the boys on that Friday before—typical routine and behavior, but he does seem a bit more handsy. Santiago has always been friendly, but he does hug you this time he sees you, catching you on the way back to the bar and he plants a kiss on your cheek that you welcome with a soft, playful shove of your hand at his face and if it strikes Frankie with jealousy, you don’t notice.

But, he does shock you when he wraps an arm around your front and hugs you lazily, haphazardly slumping his other arm over your shoulder as he plants a kiss in your the hair at the crown on your head and rubs your hip with his thumb, leaving you dumbstruck and wanton the rest of your shift, frazzled every time you glance his way.

Santiago orders a round of shots toward the end of the night and thanks you with a wink, departing for the table and interrupting the idle conversation the men were entranced in.

You’re not sure what was going on, wiping down the counter as the night slowed down and casually flicking your eyes up to check on them, hearing them laugh occasionally, glancing your way briefly and suddenly Frankie was headed your way, fiddling around with the brim of his hat as he pressed a forearm against the countertop you had just wiped down. 

You snap him gently with the towel and give him a look, he backs away slightly, hovering over the edge of the counter.

“What’s up?”

“They’re a bunch of dicks, I’m sorry.” Frankie deflected, glancing back at the boys who were staring on with sated smirks, clearly enjoying the sight of him fumbling and dropping the ball as he spoke to you. His eyes flick up wearily, soft and so distinct to him that it makes your heart ache. “Pope—Santiago, he dared me to come over and kiss you. And it’s stupid but if I didn’t at least try I would never hear the end–”

You pull him in by the collar of his shirt, the brim of his hat being pushed askew by the force as you press your lips to his in a simple, but unmistakable kiss. Tilting your head slightly as you pull away briefly to kiss him once more, dropping your towel to push your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and it seems like his brain catches up too late, his fingers barely grazing your neck as you pull away.

You pointedly look around Frankie to flip the other three off with both hands.

“Get out of here,” You warn playfully, “before I murder one of them.”

Frankie huffs a soft laugh through his nose before he turns away, speechless.

They were out of there within a few minutes, but an hour later your lips were still tingling.

Frankie is different that Saturday—more energetic, seeming lighter and more playful. 

He drinks one beer, then two, surprisingly a couple shots of tequila—and before you know it, you’re seeing a much different side of Frankie than you're used to and it is quite the sight.

“Am I cutting you off?” You ask curiously, “I don’t want you nursing a hangover tomorrow when you have your test on Monday.”

“One more,” Frankie promises, “but—surprise me?”

You shrug, not finding a problem with it.

“Sweet or savory?” You ask him.

You feel your breath catch slightly as he pauses, his eyes doing a subtle drag over your body as you take a couple steps back, reaching for an empty glass.

“Sweet.” 

It has an underlying tension to it neither of you address. 

You make something up on the fly—fruity and sweet with the slightest bit of tang, nothing that screams Frankie but when you set it down in front of him and he drinks, his eyes widen slightly.

And for half a second you think he might spit it out, but then he’s chugging the rest down—and maybe it’s alcohol dulling his taste buds but he makes a quick show of assuring you he liked it, even if it’s mostly for your own benefit.

Shaking his head as he licks at his lips with his tongue in a way that feels so unnecessary that you can’t help but giggle, snatching the empty glass away from him as he smiles, his eyes half-lidded from the faint buzz he has going on, but otherwise he still seems fine.

You couldn’t let him get that drunk, not when he had so much riding on that test.

By the end of the night, your side hurts from laughing so much, forceably having to shove your hand in Frankie’s face to get him to shut up for half a second, his fingers circling around your wrist as he pulls you forward and you giggle into his shoulder.

“Stay. Let me close up and we can walk through the back.” You tell him and he nods quietly, though his grin never fades, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip idly while he watches you work around the clutter and reorganize, cleaning everything down before you’re flicking off the lights and nodding at him to follow.

If it were anyone else, you’d have given them a stiff kick to the balls and sent them on their way, but the moment Frankie noses at your neck your hard resolve melts and you shrug him away at how much it tickles your skin, feeling his hand wrap around the bicep on your left arm. He’s never been so touchy but you can’t say you don’t enjoy it. In fact, you’re eating it up at this point.

“Frankie,” You warn him playfully, working and failing to lock the door as uses his other hand to squeeze at your side, “come on—I can’t lock up with you doing that.”

“Try,” He teases, challenges, and you can’t help but like the bolder, less restrained side of himself he’s offering up to you.

The gentle nuzzling quickly turns to kisses, wet and open mouthed as he practically drapes himself over you, one hand pressed into the brick wall beside the backdoor and you sigh softly, leaning into his chest as you finally get the door locked and shrug him away.

“Am I going to see you next week?” He asks hopefully, knowing that with August looming in the distance that your job at the bar was close to being nullified. 

You shake your head with a bittersweet smile, “Tomorrow is my last day, actually. For now, anyway.”

Frankie’s brow furrows at that and he shakes his head slightly before he’s invading your space, hands cupping your face as he lifts your chin up to meet your lips and kisses you gently, your fingers coming up to curls around his forearms and you feel his lips part just as you pull away.

“What—what are you doing?” You ask him, feeling like an echo as he comes back to the surface with a delayed response, trying to kiss you again but you're pressing your fingertips over his lips until he realizes that you actually want an answer.

“I’ve wanted you all summer,” He admits and it makes your blood run hot, that distinct tingle of pleasure shooting down your spine and it is nothing you were expecting him to say, but tonight was full of surprises apparently, “do I need to prove it to you?”

He presses his forehead against your own and you shake your head in response. You believed him, you didn’t doubt him for a second—but it feels surreal. Those quick, fleeting summer flings you only hear about in passing, never expecting to experience it yourself.

You may never see him again, you had to strike the match while it was still in reach.

“Are there cameras back here?” Frankie asks hastily.

You snort, “No—we’re five minutes away from college dorms in the poorest part of town. People come here for cheap booze, not security.”

Frankie nods at that, “You’re right,” He responds but the end is muffled as he kisses you again, with less care and a lot more tongue as you open your mouth to him and find the words on your tongue are muffled by his.

And thank god the street lights were shit in the back alley, barely working amongst the occasional flicker, you eventually find your way in the darkened corner of the back alley with Frankie’s hand working at the button on your jeans, almost tripping over an overturned crate on the way there that causes you both to burst into a fit of giggles, laughing through the sloppy kisses Frankie can’t help but smother you with, sighing when his fingers dip past the denim and thin fabric underwear to cup your pussy with his entire hand, the warmth of his palm like an answered prayer.

His hat is frustrating though, constantly bumping and prodding at your head before you finally get fed up, plucking it off his head and tossing it to the ground with an annoyed sigh that forces a choked laugh from Frankie’s throat, dipping a finger down the center of your core before pressing inside of you, gasping at the sudden but welcomed intrusion. You release a shaky sigh and open your eyes to look at him, finding he’s plenty amused but still buzzed in his own way.

Half beer, half pleasure—but he looks like he wants to devour you.

Lucky for you, he was starving.

Your mouth hangs open slightly, breathing picking up as he angles his fingers and slips another inside, curling them toward you from within and you pull at the curls at the nape of his neck.

He smirks in amusement, “Wish you could see how needy you look,” Frankie comments, “all it took was a couple fingers, huh?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Too bad it took you all summer,” You pester him as he picks up the intensity, using his other hand to push your jeans lower down your hips, “and some stupid fuckin’ drink to make you finally want to have sex with.”

“Sex?” Frankie jokes through a throaty chuckle, “Who said anything about—”

Your hand cups the front of his jeans firmly, a little harsher than necessary but you can tell he doesn’t mind, almost challenging you to tease him a little more but the moment you both hit a solid wall you’re tripping over each other’s feet and it pulls you back to the surface and despite your clothes being half-stripped away and Frankie’s hand still shoved down the front of your jeans, it brings back a surprising amount levity to assess the situation at hand.

“I mean, do you want to?” You ask him curiously, tucking a curl behind his ear as he blinks, considering how this would affect his relationship with you, as brief and fleeting as it was.

“You’re really asking me that?” He responds, “Of course.”

“Well, I mean you did just say—”

Frankie places his palm over your mouth, muffling the end of your sentence.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He deflects, hoping you’ll play along.

You work at his belt without hesitation, far over the small talk and tired of wasting time. Frankie pulls his hand away much to your disappoint, pouting slightly as he drag his hand up your stomach, under your shirt until he’s got it tucked under your chin and mouthing of your bra greedily, the fingers of his other hand peeking around the fabric to pull it down, taking the soft, pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucking with a satisfied groan as you dip your hand beyond his waistband and over his boxers, pulled tight against his thighs and groin. You could picture the sight of him in your mind for hours if you wanted, but you had him here, right here. 

Why not give yourself a peek at the real thing?

Frankie is lost, deep within the exploration of your body that he doesn’t even hear your voice when you plead with him, his voice grazing over the delicate skin of your breasts as he pulls away, already ready to descend and yank your jeans the rest of the way down, press his face between your legs and feast on you like it was the best thing he’s tried all night.

But, there’s the pout again—so subtle he would miss it had he not finally given you his full, undivided attention and he was right. You are needy.

His thumb rubs at the small sliver of your lip that’s poking out, rocking his hips gently into the hand still tucked away into his jeans—there was such a distinct charm to him, melting under his gaze the second his eyes made contact with your own. Every time.

“I don’t wanna keep you,” You whine emphatically and Frankie almost immediately begins to shake his head—

No. No, of course not. You wouldn’t be keeping him at all. Not a chance, not a fuckin—his inner monologue is going wild but he finds you perking up at the slowly growing panic on his face.

“But,” You breath, the thumb that was resting at your bottom lip trailing down the valley of your breasts before he cups one gently in his hand, “I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t give you at least something to remember this.”

“Couldn’t forget about you if I tried, actually,” He begins, but you shake your head, shushing him and pushing his hand away before you sink to your knees despite the immediate protest in your knees at the hard gravel—but god was it fucking worth it when you look up, half-lidded eyes staring back as you shake his jeans down his hips, just far enough that you can watch as he does the work with his boxers, cock bobbing free as he settles the band underneath his balls and if has to look away by that point, overwhelmed in the way your eyes roam but you don’t speak, clearly admiring and seering this to memory as you smile cheekily, taking his cock in your hand and jerk him slowly, thumb running along the vein that follows to the head of his cock.

“Get off the floor,” He begs pathetically, “gonna tear your knees up doing that.”

You laugh quietly to yourself and slide your tongue along the head of his cock, dipping down the slit of his head and to his shaft, pulling back at the skin and taking him into your mouth fully. He’s uncircumcised, thick and perfect—he fills your mouth out so beautifully in all his girth that you wonder just how much better it can feel between your legs, filling you out in the best way.

“Oh, jesus—baby, that’s,” You hum, bobbing your head in constant rhythm as your work your free hand around his balls, cupping them and allowing your other hand to cover the rest of what your mouth couldn’t take of his length and Frankie looks like he might actually pass out, looking around desperately for something, anything to lean on before he just settles for the wall behind you, resting both of his palms against the brick as he towers over you.

Frankie sighs shakily, dropping a hand to tuck against the back of your head, and your stomach swirls with anticipation as he allows himself to break his restrain a little, guiding his cock into your mouth with little aide given how eager you were as you took him as far as you could go, brush your nose against the trimmed patch of hair at the base and feel his hand flex in your hair, gripping it tight and attempting to pull you off to no avail, repeating the process until he’s begging for you to slow down, give him just a few seconds to breathe, ultimately finding that you don’t stop until he finally finds his voice again, stuttering out a desperate, “Stop, stop, stop–”

You pull away suddenly, worrying crossing your face but quickly dissipating as Frankie laughs, pulling you to your feet without much fight on your part and he does notice the few scraps on your knees, collecting with blood and he really wishes you would have listened but you brush him off, his body pressing you up against the brick wall behind you, pants still hanging at his thighs and his dick pressed against your stomach, shirt still sloppily bunched up over your tits.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, so vulgar it makes you pulse around absolutely nothing, his eyes roving over your face curiously, his thumb tracing over your lips, with a soft mumble, “God, I need you so bad.”

“My car,” You respond, tongue pressing against the pad of his fingertip as you nod behind him, “Condoms, they’re—in the car.”

Frankie makes a face, sort of amused but a little confused.

“Shut up,” You null his question before it slips out—”It’s precaution, okay? Guys love to pull the whole—”

“No, I—I get it,” Frankie answers, a small laugh rounding out his tone, “I just figured, you know—we’d…go back to your place? Or mine?”

Your hand fists into his shirt slowly, pulling him impossibly closer like he wasn’t already pressed against every surface of your body.

“What if I can’t wait?” Your eyes soften, looking up at him and catching the swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip, wanting to taste that tinge of sugar that lingers with him, “Would you fuck me right now?”

Frankie nods eagerly and you don’t hesitate, grabbing for his hat, placing it against his chest and gripping his hand in your own before you shove him away gently and lead him to your car, mostly covered in darkness aside from the obnoxiously orange streetlight that glowed overhead. Your clothes haphazardly pulled back up as you clamber into the driver's seat to reach over the console and into the glovebox, aware of the hand that slides between your leg as you search in the poor lighting, squealing when he squeezes at the flesh under his grip and shoving the foil wrapper into Frankie’s chest when you finally get your hand on the box.

“Off,” He tells you, pulling at the zipper of your jeans, “all the way.”

There was so much going on in your mind, nothing you could pluck out and focus on but it buzzed with excitement, anticipation, the kind of adrenaline that only comes in situations when your judgment is hasty and not fully-thought out. You’re barely kicking your shoes off and pulling your jeans past your ankle before Frankie is manhandling you into the backseat, and pressing his face between your thighs as he licks into you, a surprised gasp tearing from your throat as you grip the seats wherever you can.

Your pussy throbs under the care of his tongue, and he carries on obnoxiously, making a mess between your legs as his fingertips grip at the flesh of your ass and force you to open yourself wider to him, “Frankie—” You interject weakly, but he silences you with his mouth, sucking at your clit like it was his new obsession and you whine so pathetically that you find you covering your mouth in shame, biting gently at your bicep to muffle the flurry of sounds that came out after.

He pulls away some time later—minutes, hours, days, you can’t even place it. But, you hear him shift, the rip of the wrapper and the jingling of his belt as he shifts his jeans further down and slides into the backseat more comfortably, hovering over you. His hands squeezing at your hips, a comforting gesture as he speaks from behind you.

“Are you sure?” 

It’s sweet, you can admit that. But, you don’t need that.

“Frankie.”

He wasn’t budging. Because, if by some sudden change of heart you didn’t want this, he wanted to know.

“Yes. Yes,” You say, turning slightly to look over your shoulder, his face only an inch or so away as you tuck your arm back and push your fingers into his hair, pulling his face next to yours as he pushes inside of you slowly, yanking gently at the strands between your fingers as he settles, a soft sigh falling from your lips.

“Let me hear you,” He begs, “It’s just us.”

He hears you all the time, voice carrying across the bar but never like this—for him, only for him.

He pulls back gently, snapping his hips firmly and you hum softly, slightly giddy over the entire situation. He continues that way, so gentle and cautious that it makes you wonder why you both avoided this for so long, “More?” Frankie asks. You nod and his pace quickens slightly, a little harsher, and your hand grips onto the passenger seat beside your head for leverage as he chest rumbles with a deep sigh, “Fuck this is—baby, you have no idea.”

“Tell me,” You plead, the quiet creak of the car drowned out by your loud, pathetic moans as Frankie’s fingers curl around your throat and hold, no pressing or squeezing, just another place for them to find a home.

“Thought about this—so many times,” He admits, “came here for months—fuck, months. And then you show up and I was nervous—couldn’t, couldn’t even think of what to say to you. I knew I’d embarrass myself in front of them.” He squeezes then, a gentle pressure on your throat that has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“I had to see you alone,” His throat is tight, his breath a little quicker as he speaks, his hips snapping into you at a steady pace that clouds your mind effortlessly, “wanted you for myself—and, I would’ve fucked you that first night if you’d let me.”

You cunt squeezes him tight at his words and he curses, “So greedy, baby. She’s drooling all over me—such a fucking mess,” And you need to see him, face the man who’s finally found just the right amount of confidence to make you speechless. You lean up suddenly and force a hand into his chest and he only looks slightly confused before you’re pulling him inside and forcing him to sit into the cramped back seat, uncaring of the open car door as the car rocks with the weight of your bodies and you seat yourself on his lap, gripping his dick in your hand and sinking back down onto him without a word, curling yourself over him as you push away the hair clinging to his forehead, damp from sweat and his eyes are blown wide, staring up at you like he was under hypnosis, gaze locked on your own.

“Tell me now,” You challenge him—nowhere to hide behind his words.

“Would you—have let me fuck you that one night I walked you to your car?” He asks.

You smile guiltily, remembering the heat of his hand on your back, never really an accident.

“I’d have let you fuck me over the pool table if you asked, Frankie.” You admit, “In front of your friends too, if that’s what you really wanted.”

Frankie laughs weakly, giving you the lead as you lift your hips with a sudden eagerness.

“Is that what you want?” You tease him, “You guys are all about claim, right? Army boys love to show off—I mean, they’d probably be into it. Santi, for sure—”

Frankie covers your mouth with his hand and you giggle, biting playfully at the flesh of his palm.

He squeezes at your hip with his free hand, forcing you into a hurried pace as he begins to move his hips to meet your own, lifting off the seat slightly with every snap of his hips. Your cry is muffled by his hand but Frankie sees it in your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes that tells him.

“Touch yourself, babygirl,” He tells you, “Let’s see how bad you want it.”

You lean back between the open space of the driver and passenger seat, one hand gripping the upholstery of the seat while the other works between your legs, fingers drifting over your clit and into the mess of yourself that was leaking over Frankie’s cock from where it was buried inside of you and he wasn’t lying—you’ve never been so turned on in your life. Half-assed hook-ups and guys that didn’t give a shit about your own pleasure, Frankie was a goddamn dream and a hell of a good fuck. 

You know your body well enough that it doesn’t take long, but the show is for Frankie’s benefit alone, head thrown back over your shoulders as your middle and ring finger circle your clit, occasionally wrapping your hand around what of his shaft was available as you tried weakly to move your hips, squeezing to pull a soft little gasp from his chest. It was such a damn shame you didn’t have him fully naked, splayed out on the mattress in your shitty apartment. You wanted to dig your nails into his skin, leave half crescent marks and a reminder of you for days, weeks even. 

“Fuck, I’m right there, baby—” He warns, unexpectedly joining your own fingers and forcing you over the edge just before he pulls you in, a brutal snap of his hips before he’s muffling the deep groans of his orgasm into your skin, teeth sinking gently into your shoulder.

The next few minutes is spent in a blissful silence, moving off of him carefully as he discards the condom but never letting you drift to far, still curled up and half naked on his lap as he pushes a strand of hair away from your face, pulling you in for a kiss that takes your breath away, literally pulls from your chest and makes your heart stop.

Oh…this was not good. 

You breathe shakily and pull away with a smile that masks that sudden ache in your chest and kiss again at the inside of his palm. He leans his head against the backseat, eyes closed as he catches his breath and groans slightly when you move off of him, oblivious and exhausted as you redress hastily beside him, pulling your jeans back up your legs and over your hips, slipping your shoes on and readjusting your shirt, shaking him gently when you fear he might have passed out right there in the back of your car.

“Frankie,” You call out, saying his name a few more times before you call out, one last time, “Francisco, hey.”

His eyebrows raise in question, a subtle smile on his lips as he peeks an eye open to look at you.

“I really need to get home,” You tell him, laughing half-heartedly at his drunken stupor, “you’ve gotta go.”

Frankie seems to realize then that he can’t drag this out any longer, redressing himself slowly as he climbs out of the car, watching you fiddle with your shirt and your appearance, trying to not look like you just got fucked in the backseat of your car.

He seems to notice the slight dismay on your face, knowing that your lives were diverting down different paths, but this was still the present. Now. And he was still here.

He presses you into the driver’s side door and kisses you then, hands crawling up the side of your neck and caressing the curve of it, dipping his tongue past your lips and really stealing your breath away, moaning into your mouth like you were the greatest thing he’s ever tasted.

You pull away regrettably when you feel him start to ramp up again, “Good luck on your test, by the way.” You tell him honestly, “You can text me the good news when you pass.”

Frankie chuckles, “I will.” There’s a long pause and then he’s speaking again, the few words you weren’t sure you wanted to hear, “Can I see you again?”

The hesitance is obvious on your face and it kicks Frankie down a peg, but he gets it. He wasn’t a boyfriend, barely even a friend. But, he was still hopeful.

“Maybe.” You offer, “I mean—you still have my number. I’m just a text or call away, you know.”

Frankie couldn’t admit that you were the only thing getting him through this summer without relapsing or making another misstep, that wasn’t your burden. But, the weight on his heart is heavy and his own to bear, welcoming the hug you offer him immediately and squeezing you so tight you might break, but of course, you don’t. 

And he thinks that if he showed up broken, in pieces, that you would know exactly how to piece him back together, but he hoped that never happened. That maybe you might manage to escape him and he wouldn’t drag you down with him.

“Goodbye, Frankie.” 

He smiles and nods, settling his hat back on his head as he steps away.

You leave soon after, not sure why this sudden dark cloud is looming over you.

Frankie never texts you about his test and the texts you send in the aftermath are never responded to—and eventually you give up, feeling like an idiot for being hopeful in the first place.

↝ beta: @chaotic-mystery

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

[celesteleoves]

“DIMPLES ARE SO CUTE!”

ೃ࿐ EREN YEAGER X FEM!READER

summary: eren only shows his dimples around you.

warnings: eren has dimples, fluff, mentions of spicey things (girls teasing girls ykyk), erens very stoic around people he’s not close with.

-

“can you imagine jean having dimples, mikasa? i mean that would boost his ego too much.” annie laughed as you all sat around armins house.

your friend group had decided to have one big hangout! currently, the girls were sitting in the basement catching up on gossip while the boys went out to get stuff for a barbecue later.

“he still looks insanely good annie, can YOU imagine your boyfriend having dimples?” mikasa retorted back as the rest of us girls laughed.

“at least he’s good in bed-”

“hey, y/n, you like guys with dimples right?” sasha questioned as she downed a can of root beer.

“who doesn’t? dimples are so cute!” you said as the girls agreed.

“historia loves me and my freckles, dimples ain’t got nothing on us.” ymir pulled historia to her chest who only giggled and nodded.

you smiled at the two, they were so cute it drove you nuts. but at the moment, you remembered something about your crush and a feature you noticed about him.

“wait, eren has dimples guys!” you said with a smile on your face like you’d just solve the biggest mystery on earth.

the girls narrowed their eyes at you and then turned their attention to mikasa, who was a bit confused as well.

“don’t look at me, i can’t remember ever noticing eren having dimples. you sure y/n?”

“i swear, just wait till he gets back and look closely! you can see them.”

“she’s so in love she’s imaging eren with her favourite features a guy can have.” historia mocked and you rolled your eyes.

“i swear by it.”

mikasa laughed at your words as the girls listened closely to this newfound information.

“sure you do, i’ve known eren my whole life and i dont ever really see any prominent dimples on his face.”

“mika, let’s also remember she’s heavily obsessed with him. of course she noticed these things.” sasha joined in on the teasing as you groaned.

“fine, maybe you guys are right about the dim-”

“right about what?” jean asked as he, armin, and connie walked into the room with drinks and snacks.

“it’s girl talk, jean.” armin said while putting stuff down on a near coffee table before taking a seat on the couch annie sat at.

“well let me in on it!” jean pestered mikasa as he also joined her on the couch also.

“sasha! of course you ate my favourite chips bro.” connie whined as he noticed the chip bag he brought was in her hands and was now devoured by Sasha’s uncontrollable need for food.

“shut up connie!”

“anyways, we were talking about how y/n says she believes eren has dimples.” historia brought the conversation back and now everyone was listening intently.

“that mean bastard? doubt he could have something as attractive as dimples on his cold, ugly face.” jean said as he emphasized the last few words in a mocking way while mikasa slapped his arm.

armin paused and thought about it before speaking. “actually, he might. i think i almost saw his dimples once but he turned away from me, so i couldn’t see them.”

“see!” you smiled in victory and stood up to grab a coke can but before you could, a hand swooped and grab it right out of your reach. the person raised it above their head.

“don’t mind me, i’m really in the mood for some coke.” the person you guys had been talking about for a while finally arrived, eren.

and god damn, he looked too good even though you saw him thirty minutes ago. somehow, he manages to just get more attractive in your eyes day by day.

“eren, i was gonna have that actually so hand it over.” you smiled and reached to grab it, the visible height difference between you two causing troubles.

your friends went silent as they watched you bicker with each other. they had all been rooting for you two to get together, for a while now. you had easily fallen for him, what you didn’t know as of right know is that he fell harder.

although, one thing that made the whole groups jaws drop was the prominent dimples that appeared through eren’s smile as he looked down at you, his green eyes seeming brighter as he teased you and laughed.

“no fucking way.” annie whispered and nudged armin who only stared at the two with a smile on his face.

“shit man, turns out he does have something as cool as dimples on his face.” jean sighed and leaned into mikasa’s shoulder who only let out a chuckle at that.

truth is, mikasa knew eren had dimples. but, she only saw them when eren was around you or when he talked about you with a smile on his face.

-

a/n: heyyy, so i’m back with the aot oneshots too! im in a aot brainrot bc of the trailer and how sad i am that aot is going to be ending soon :( anyways, hope you enjoyed!

please message me if u have any concerns, suggestions, or a specific aot or mha work in mind that you would like me to write!

[glorious-spoon]

"Naturally gravitating closer together" for buddie 🥰

hello and thank you! this sort of turned into a bobby POV ficlet and i'm not sure why?? anyway, here you go! (can be but doesn't have to be read as a continuation of this ficlet)

-

Bobby's not even sure they notice they're doing it. It's like watching a slow-motion dance across his backyard, the way they keep drifting back toward each other like celestial objects caught up in each other's gravity. Buck goes to get a pair of beers from the cooler and hands one to Eddie, who takes it and leans into his shoulder. Then they're off again, Eddie wandering over to talk to Christopher and Buck darting in to help Maddie catch Jee-Yun's party balloon before it floats off. A few minutes later, Eddie slips back into Buck's space, bumping shoulders and sipping his beer.

It's not that different from how they've always been. Bobby's not even sure he can put his finger on what's changed, only that there's an awareness to them now, an intentionality that wasn't there before.

"You've got your thinking face on," Athena remarks, slipping an arm around his waist and leaning into him. Bobby smiles and leans back.

"Just watching the party."

"Mmhm." She's quiet for a minute, sipping her drink. Bobby's quiet too, savoring the moment: the light breeze shifting the trees, the happy family gathered in his home, the familiar way his wife fits against him. Then Athena says, "You think they finally got it together? Buck and Eddie, I mean."

Bobby glances down at her. "What do you mean?"

"Bobby," she says, a fond, indulgent eye-roll in her voice.

"It's not my business."

"Mmhm. Could be your business, seeing as how they work together on your team."

He laughs, looping an arm around her hips. On the other side of the yard, Christopher has abandoned his barbeque wings for some kind of card game with Harry and Denny on the patio, and Buck and Eddie have closed the distance on the bench where he was sitting, pressed together shoulder to hip as they talk. And the thing is, Athena's not wrong. If he's seeing what he thinks he's seeing, it'll have to be his business, at least as far as HR forms go. But he remembers those early, heady days of sneaking around with Athena—kissing her behind the firetrucks, thrilling at every casual touch, drawn irresistibly into her orbit and the delight of something tender and new growing in the scorched wreckage of his personal life—and he can't quite bring himself to be a responsible fire captain about this just yet.

"I think I'm going to give them a minute," he says. "They deserve that."

Over at the bench, Buck says something that makes Eddie laugh and ruffle his hair. He leaves his hand on Buck's nape once he's done, the sort of half-casual plausibly-deniable touch that Bobby remembers pulling as a teenager in the back row of movie theaters. He doesn't mean to snort, but he can't quite help it.

"Oh, they're really not slick, are they," Athena observes mildly.

Bobby laughs. "It's new. It's exciting. I remember how that feels."

"Mm. You do, do you?"

"Yeah." He turns away from Buck and Eddie, and smiles down at his wife. "I really do."

[scarltzwitch]

CROSSING WORLDS, MEETING HEARTS — LOGAN HOWLETT.

❥ Summary: On what seemed like an ordinary night, Logan Howlett and Elena Stark meet by chance in a bar. After Logan steps in to protect Elena from a stranger, an unexpected connection forms between them. As they start seeing each other more often, their relationship catches the attention of the Avengers, who are surprised to learn that Logan is not only from another universe but also has extraordinary abilities and has won the heart of Tony Stark's daughter.

❥ Genre: Logan Howlett x Elena Stark ( Fem!OC )

The bar was full of life on a Saturday night, with laughter and the sound of clinking glasses filling the air. Logan was in a corner, his gaze fixed on the drink in front of him when everything changed. It wasn't the first time Wade had convinced him to go out with his group of friends to places like this, but this time, fate had something in store for him.

Elena was a beautiful young woman, of medium height, with her chestnut hair cascading down her back. Her oval face, delicate jawline, and defined cheekbones were on display. The young Stark was looking for a breather with her friends and her father after a day full of chaos. The world had been hard to recover after Thanos' attack, but it wasn’t impossible, and the Avengers deserved a great rest after saving the Planet and the Universe. Wade Wilson and his group of friends also needed a break after their exhausting battle against Cassandra.

After a few drinks, the Avengers, along with Tony and Pepper—Elena’s mother and now Tony's wife, also known as Morgan's mother, who was Elena’s younger sister—had decided to retire to their respective rooms, leaving the brunette alone, as she had decided to stay a little longer. She loved the place her father had chosen.

Half an hour later, the young Stark decided it was time to go home. She got up from her seat to head to the counter and pay, but unexpectedly, a man approached her with the intention of bothering her and ruining her evening. After trying to make the guy leave, Elena felt cornered. She had drunk a bit too much, but she was still aware of what was happening. Logan, without hesitation, decided to intervene and with his characteristic growl, managed to pull the young woman away from the man who was harassing her.

“She said to back off,” Logan warned as he grabbed the man by the neck, but that didn’t stop him from throwing a punch at the guy's face, scaring him off.

Elena, moved by the situation, clutched her purse tightly and looked at the man who had helped her. She decided to make the first move. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that, but thank you,” she said with a slight smile, admiring the man who had come to her rescue. He was quite attractive, almost too good to be true. Logan merely nodded in response. After that silent exchange, Logan started to leave, but Elena stopped him.

“Would you like to stay a little longer?” Elena asked with a sincere smile. “I don’t usually invite strangers, but you just saved me from a pretty uncomfortable situation, and I feel like I owe you. So, what do you say?” she asked hopefully. Logan looked at her for a moment, as if weighing whether he should accept the offer. He usually didn’t get involved with others, especially someone much younger than him and from a world so different from his own. They returned to the bar, where Elena ordered some beers and a few snacks to accompany them. The atmosphere of the place was still lively, but now, with the company of the man who had saved her, everything seemed much calmer for her. They sat together at a table, and while they drank what the young woman had ordered, Elena couldn’t help but study him discreetly. He seemed tough, with an imposing presence, but there was a softness in his eyes that intrigued her.

“So... Do you come to places like this often?” Elena asked, trying to start a conversation. Logan took a sip of his beer while watching Elena, noticing the interest in her eyes. “Not much,” he replied in his characteristic gruff tone. “Only when Wade convinces me to go out.”

Elena smiled, surprised by the simplicity of his answer. “Wade? The weird guy I saw you come in with earlier?”

Logan shrugged. “Just needed a change of scenery. What about you? What made you stay after your family left?” Elena took a sip of her drink before answering. “I love this place. My father used to bring me here, and it brings back good memories. After everything we’ve been through, I needed a moment of peace.”

They shared a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the noise of the bar. Elena noticed how Logan’s hardened expression softened slightly. “Thanks again for stepping in,” Elena finally said. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.” Logan looked up and, for the first time that night, gave a faint smile. “It’s nothing. I’m glad I could help.”

Elena leaned forward a bit, showing genuine interest. “Would you like to tell me more about yourself? I have a feeling you have some interesting stories to tell.” Logan looked at her, considering whether he should open up a bit more. The sincerity in her eyes and the warmth of her smile made him feel more at ease. “Maybe. Though I won’t make a habit of it.” Elena smiled broadly, accepting the challenge. “That’s fine. Sometimes, it’s nice to have an unexpected conversation with someone new.”

As Logan and Elena started to see each other more often, it wasn’t long before the news reached Tony. Although Elena tried to keep their relationship discreet, her father always had a way of finding things out, and soon, the word that she was dating someone began to circulate among the Avengers.

One day, while the group was gathered in Stark Tower, Tony, with his characteristic flair, casually mentioned, “So, it seems Elena has a new friend... a certain Logan Howlett.” The mention of the name caught everyone’s attention in the room. Natasha raised an eyebrow, Steve stopped reviewing his reports, and Thor, with his hammer in hand, let out a hearty laugh: “And who is this bold man who dares to court Stark’s daughter?”

Tony, with a mischievous smile, responded, “That’s the interesting part. Apparently, he’s not from our universe according to her. And... he has metal claws. He’s some sort of mutant, I think, like Wanda and Pietro.”

The room fell silent. Wanda was the first to speak, her tone one of genuine surprise: “Metal claws? You mean like a mutant?” Tony nodded, and before they could delve further into the matter, Wade Wilson, who had apparently been eavesdropping on the conversation from the hallway, burst into the room with a mischievous grin. “Oh, this is going to be fun! I’ve been waiting for this moment since I found out.”

Before anyone could comment further, the young Stark walked in with Logan, who was hooked to her, his arm linked with hers as the rest of her friends followed. “Sorry, sorry. He can be a bit... odd,” Elena apologized with a smile. Wanda didn’t hesitate to be the first to hug her, but the rest of the room’s attention turned to the man accompanying her, surprised.

“Excuse me? Who are you, and what are you doing with my daughter?” Tony asked, surprised, with a glass of whiskey in his right hand and his other arm around Pepper.

“Tony, honey. Let him introduce himself, please? You’re Logan, right?” Pepper asked with a slight smile, trying to lighten the tension. Elena murmured a thank you in gratitude, to which the blonde nodded.

Logan nodded without saying much, standing firm. Thor was the first to break the tension by approaching them and giving the mutant a friendly slap on the back. “So... I’ve heard you’re a warrior from another world with much more experience. It seems I have competition—and with claws, I hear. Strange, but interesting. I think you and I will get along well.” Logan barely reacted, but Elena noticed how his lips curved slightly upward.

Steve, for his part, crossed his arms and looked at Logan with a mixture of respect and curiosity. “So, you’re a veteran? Not many can say that in this room.”

Feeling a bit nervous, Elena stepped forward, holding Logan’s hand. “He’s different, but I think he’ll fit in well with us. And well, he’s... important to me.”

Before anyone could respond, Wade interjected with his usual humor: “Of course he’ll fit in! Plus, it was about time this team had someone with a bit more claw—and, by the way, a delightful loudmouth mercenary like me!” Everyone, even Logan, couldn’t help but laugh at the comment.

With the tension now eased, the Avengers, along with Elena and Logan’s group, sat down to chat and get to know each other better, sharing stories and jokes. The initial surprise quickly faded, and while they knew Logan wasn’t what they expected for Elena, they also recognized that he was someone they could trust, especially if he shared a close relationship with Tony’s daughter.

@welcometochilis585

Hi! I'm so sorry for the delay, but I wanted to do my best with this one-shot. It's a way for me to practice with writing, thank you so much for trusting me with your idea. I loved it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

— Lily. 💜

[blingblong55]

More than this- John "Soap" MacTavish NSFW

Based on a request: I hope it is okay with you and not boring cause the majority of inspiration/ideas I have are from songs :3 Can I request Playboy!Soap who's trying to get it with Reader (without realising Reader's a player too). After many relentless persuasion, reader's decided 'fuck it, lets go then'. once the deed is done, reader dipped and left soap in surprise (cause soap caught feelings for reader by the end). thank you! :) (song inspired: https://youtu.be/55h_ugXqTq0?si=tANMojqXlQeNomdl) ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, smut, player!Soap, player!reader, fingering, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, anal!sex ---- A/N: the song is so good and the request also reminded me of Niall Horan's "Nice to meet ya" so...I got inspired by both :)

Soap had always been the charismatic one in the squad, his Scottish brogue and cheeky grin making him a favourite among the ranks and a magnet for attention. His real name was John MacTavish, but no one called him that. Soap was known for his effortless charm and his reputation as a playboy, never failing to have a woman on his arm during leave. He enjoyed the game, the chase, and the thrill of never getting too attached.

He first noticed you during a mission briefing. You were new to the unit, sharp-eyed and focused, with a calm confidence that intrigued him. From the start, Soap found himself captivated. Unlike others, you didn’t fall for his usual lines and smooth talk. Your responses were always polite but distant, leaving him wanting more.

Over the next few months, Soap made it his mission to win you over. He flirted relentlessly, invited you for drinks, and found excuses to be near you during training exercises. You, however, were an enigma. You’d laugh at his jokes, andengage in banter, but never gave him the satisfaction of reciprocating his advances.

One evening, after a particularly gruelling day in the field, the squad gathered in the makeshift rec room. Soap, ever the life of the party, was regaling them with a story, his eyes constantly drifting to you, who sat across the room, cleaning your gear. Catching your eye, he grinned and raised his beer.

"Hey, why don’t you join us for a change? You’re always working too hard."

You looked up, your expression unreadable. "Someone has to keep things running smoothly around here, Soap."

"Come on," he coaxed, "just one drink."

After a moment’s hesitation, you shrugged and joined them. The evening wore on, and Soap found himself drawn to you more than ever. As the night wound down and the others began to drift off to their bunks, Soap leaned in closer to you.

"You know, I’ve been trying to get you alone for months," he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of sincerity.

You arched an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips. "And why’s that, Soap?"

"Because you’re different. You don’t fall for my charm like the others. It’s… refreshing."

You laughed softly, the sound surprising him. "Maybe you’re not as charming as you think."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Or maybe you’re just a tough nut to crack."

There was a pause, a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on. Then, with a sigh, you set down your drink and stood. "Alright, Soap. You’ve been persistent enough. Let’s go."

Soap blinked, momentarily stunned. "You mean it?"

You nodded, your eyes challenging. "Yeah. Let’s go."

He followed you to your quarters, his heart pounding with anticipation. This was it, the moment he’d been waiting for. You barely made it inside before you were on each other, the pent-up tension exploding into passion. Soap revelled in the intensity, every touch and kiss igniting a fire he hadn’t felt before.

He slowly undressed you, watching as you squirmed with excitement. His strong hand glided over the fabric of the dress, pulling it up until it was above your waist. His grip was unyielding on your hips as he whispered, "Fuck, just look at how wet you are for me, lass.” He pushed two fingers inside, licking his lips with satisfaction. 

His thick calloused fingers pumping into you. Your eyes fluttered shut. The man above you groaned loudly, “That’s what I’m talking about,” he exclaimed. 

You open your eyes, "Soap," you whimper and he smirks. "Fuck," you shut your eyes and hold onto his shirt. That was all he needed to hear, it was the green light. Soap grabbed your hips with both hands and flung you onto the bed as you cried out. With a swift movement, he threw his weight over you and pinned you down as he pulled his cock out of his trousers. In the next moment, he had it positioned at your entrance as he muttered a dark prayer. 

"Soap,  fuck- ahh...n~ngh," a playful smile on your lips as you let out another needy moan. "Fuck, I need more~" you mutter and he smirks. Not much longer, his thrusts grew more intense and he started to thrust faster, harder. He could feel you tensing up, letting out heavy breaths, and waiting for that sweet moment.

Soap grunted "I knew you would beg me once I started." His thrusts became more erratic now; he wanted to feel how sensitive you were, how wildly you craved for him. You felt him rubbing against the spot that made your legs shake. He squeezed your hips harder and thrust faster causing you to cum. 

He pulled out, repositioned you and started to penetrate you anally. "Your sweet ass is mine," he grunted over, “all mine.” A savage smile crossed his lips, hearing how you moaned and panted beneath him. He slapped your ass as he fucked your tight hole. Moans of need and desperation leave your lips and he laughs.

He pushed into you, forceful and deep. He groaned and slammed into you harder, “Perfect.” His pace increased, and the sound of flesh smacking against flesh filled the room. His hand reached between you, squeezing your clit as he continued to fuck you. “Come for me, Y/N.”

He felt the heat building up in him and knew the end was near. He was going to fill you up and remind you why you should come back for another round. “You’re such a good girl,” he praised you. Both of you were spiralling now, as he slammed into you one final time, you cried out, and your body convulsed, milking him for every drop of his release. His cock seemed to expand inside you as he came hard. Simultaneously, he threw his head back, growling, feeling an orgasm high. As he finally released into your ass, giving you a hot treat of his cum, you whine and whimper. He collapsed on top of you, panting.

Soap never wanted you to be more than his plaything, but he was rapidly learning he couldn't just have a piece of you—he craved you entirely. He needed all of you. "You’re my pretty slut, lass" he growled, fingers digging into your hips.  

He laid there, closing his eyes as he finally rested, your body next to his and that was all the assurance he needed for the night. 

But when he woke the next morning, you were gone. He sat up, confusion washing over him. Your side of the bed was cold, your gear gone. You’d left without a word.

Soap dressed quickly and headed to the mess hall, scanning the room for you. He found you at a corner table, already immersed in a conversation with another soldier, your demeanour casual as if nothing had happened.

"Hey," he said, approaching you, trying to keep his voice steady.

You looked up, giving him a brief nod. "Morning, Soap."

"Can we talk?"

You shrugged, rising from the table. You stepped outside, the early morning air crisp and cool.

"About last night," he began, searching your face for any sign of regret or emotion. "What happened?"

You met his gaze, your expression calm. "What do you mean? We hooked up. It was fun. But that’s all it was."

He frowned, taken aback by your nonchalance. "Just fun?"

"Yeah, Soap. Just fun," you said, your tone firm. "We’re soldiers. We can’t afford to get attached."

He stared at you, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. He’d pursued you, convinced himself it was just another conquest, but somewhere along the line, he’d caught feelings. And now, looking at you, he realized you were just like him—a player, only better at hiding it.

"Right," he said, forcing a smile. "Just fun."

You nodded, giving him a small smile. "Good. See you around, Soap."

As you walked away, Soap felt a strange emptiness settle in his chest. For the first time, the game hadn’t gone according to plan. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d lost more than just a fleeting moment of passion. He’d lost the one person who had seen through his façade, only to remind him of his own rules: never get too attached.

But as he watched you disappear into the bustling crowd, he couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, your story wasn’t quite over yet.

A/N: got so lost with my writing throughout this so I'm sorry if this is all over the place

@liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @Krinoid24 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @luvecarson @coralwitchdreamland @ikohniik @strawberrychita @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @anonymuslydumb @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @the_royal_bee @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate

[thetriumphantpanda]

i'm not the only one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | You have your baby. You have your family. But can you really have everything you want? Can you really have your cake and eat it too?

Warnings | Fluff, mentions of breastfeeding, small children (in my world they need to come with a warning because ew), let's say it one more time for old times sake: TOMMY GETTING CUCKED BECAUSE HE LOVES IT, dirty talk, fingering (f) and allusions to other smut.

Word Count | 1.9k

Authors Note | Wow. I just wanted to take some time to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read and supported me through this little fic. What started as a filthy little one-shot has become something super special to me. I'm so proud with how this turned out and I really hope that you love this ending as much as I do. I need to say a massive thank you to the JFC - @cavillscurls @dinsdjrn @morning-star-joy @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers for continuously losing their mind over this fic with me and helping me come up with the ending where no-one gets their heart broken, I love you girls more than I can express 🧡 Thank you to each and every person who has read this, has given me their love, interacted with me and generally just made me the happiest girl for deciding to come back to fic writing. You're all awesome and I love each and every one of you. Please let me know what you thought of this, either by commenting, reblogging or sending me some love in my ask box, and if you'd like to support me with a donation, you can do so over on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The late September sun is still warm, even as it begins dipping below the horizon, painting the sky a beautiful mix of pink and orange. The beer in your bottle is lukewarm, but you finish it off anyway, attention dropping to your son, sat on your knee, as you bounce it up and down to keep him occupied at the table. He’s just turned two and is a much better table companion at Joel’s birthday cook-out than he had been last year. He’s starting to show a little personality, babbling along when Sarah tried to talk to him, teasing Tommy when he hands his son a toy, throwing it to the ground because he already knows he’ll pick it right back up and play along. 

Everyone else has long gone by this point in the evening. This year’s celebration of Joel’s birthday being held at your house because he’s having his garden landscaped. It’s just the five of you, the people who matter most to you in life, sat around, finishing drinks and just enjoying each other’s company. Sarah yawns to your left, the day finally catching up with her. 

“You tired, bug?” Joel asks, smoothing a hand over her hair. 

“I’m not tired.” But she yawns again, chuckles erupting from the table. 

You poke at her arm, “Your room is ready whenever you are.” It had already been agreed that Sarah and Joel would stay here tonight, so he could have a drink and enjoy his birthday without worrying about driving home. 

To her credit, she lasts another hour sat at the table, but once Joshua starts fussing as well, it’s clear it’s time for everyone to call it a night. Joel kisses Sarah on the forehead, wishing her a goodnight as she heads inside. Tommy takes Joshua from your arms and presses a kiss to the top of your head, leaving you and Joel together for the first time that evening. You reach out your arm across the table, palm up to the darkening sky, Joel’s own, much larger hand, slipping into it. 

“Shall we go?” You ask, the smile across your face mirroring his own. 

“I think we should.” 

As you’re walking through the neighbourhood your mind drags back to this time last year and the conversation with Tommy as Joel’s birthday loomed on the horizon. 

“What do you think we should get him for his birthday?” Tommy asked, flipping through the catalogue of construction gear that comes through the letterbox every few months, “He was saying his toolbox is too small these days, maybe we can get him a bigger one?” 

Joshua is cradled against your chest, suckling as you feed him. You’d always wondered how the other women you knew could multitask before he’d been born. One of your best friends could breastfeed her child, cook dinner and talk to her older daughter all at the same time. Now, standing in the kitchen feeding your son, two pans on the stovetop as you cook, holding a conversation with Tommy, you realise it just came naturally. 

“I mean, we can,” You throw over your shoulder, “But I think that man deserves more than a toolbox for his birthday.” 

Once Joshua has finished feeding, you hand him to Tommy, along with placing a rag over his shoulder – you fed him, Tommy gets to burp him, that’s the deal. 

“I just feel bad,” You comment, going back to pushing the steak around the pan, “Do you not feel like you’ve kinda just abandoned him a little?” 

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks, patting his son on the back. 

You sigh, trying to focus on cooking as you speak, “I just mean that he did this for us, gave us this life we have now, and what are we going to do to thank him? Give him a toolbox? Just seems like we don’t care.” 

“Well, what would you suggest?” He asks, you're quiet in response, trying to think of how best to put this, "You miss him, don't you?" He finally asks.

You turn around, leaning against the counter to the side of the stove, “I do miss him,” You say simply, not afraid to admit it, “You said before Joshua was born that you understood the connection we have, I just want to give him something good.” 

Tommy has Joshua cradled in his arms now, trying to get him to go to sleep so he can lie him down and enjoy dinner with you in peace, "You wanna fuck him for his birthday?" There's a smirk on his lips, just like there was when you'd needed Joel before Joshua was born.

“Hey, language!” You chastise, pointing to his son in his arms, “Don’t say it like that either, you know you come first, you always have, I love you Tommy, but can’t we just give him one time, once a year, where I can really show him how grateful I am for what he gave us?” 

You can see him mull it over in his mind as he bounces his son in his arms before he relents, “Okay,” He’s smiling, and it reaches his eyes, so you know he really means it, “If that’s what you want, I’m happy.” 

You smile, walking over to kiss him, “I don’t deserve you,” You murmur against his lips, “I love you so very much, Tommy Miller.” 

Joel thinks, as he walks hand in hand with you back to his home, that he really didn’t need this. He didn’t need thanking for what he’d done. He remembers walking into your hospital room with Sarah after Joshua had been born – she’d insisted on picking the biggest and brightest bouquet of flowers for you and had been so excited to finally meet her nephew. He’d pushed open the door for her that day and had been overcome with a strange sense of satisfaction. 

You were propped up in bed, Joshua cradled in your arms, his tiny hand clutched around one of your fingers, Tommy stood, hand brushing your hair as he looked down at the both of you with pure adoration. He knew he’d given you everything in that moment, that he’d managed to make the two of you the happiest people ever, and that was enough. A fleeting moment in time between you and him, that had created the most beautiful baby boy he’d ever laid eyes on, he’d been happy to let it lie, to wait and see if you wanted more and came back to him down the line. 

He hadn’t expected that on his birthday last year, you’d have cornered him and kissed him with such passion that he wasn’t sure he’d survive once he pulled away from you. Then you explained, one night a year, he could choose when, where you could show him how thankful you were to him. A night just to yourselves, without Tommy’s eyes trailing over you both. Secret and sacred between the two of you. 

Once Joel has unlocked his front door and brought you inside, he wastes no time. He craves this, has spent the last year thinking of the moment he gets to fuse his lips with yours. It’s soft, as his mouth opens against yours, slow as your tongues meet, he doesn’t have to rush with you anymore, he gets you to himself for the whole night. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Hey.” You smile softly. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” He’s smiling, palms resting at your hips, “You want me to take you upstairs? 

You bite at your bottom lip and breathe out, “Yes.” 

He leads you up the stairs, your hand clutched in his own, through the threshold of his bedroom. He settles himself on top of his sheets, head propped up on his pillows as he motions you to join him. You clamber onto the bed, crawling up his body on your hands and knees until you’re straddling his hips with your mouth back on his. 

As you grind your hips down onto him, his hands coming to cup your ass under your dress, you can feel him growing hard for you. All you want is to strip him down and put your mouth on him, but it seems he has other ideas, and since this is all for him, you let him take the lead. He slips his hands under the waistband of your panties, warm hands on your flesh as he pulls them down as far as they’ll go in this position. 

“Lie down for me, babygirl.” He whispers against your lips, you oblige, settling yourself down on your back as he pulls your underwear off fully, shucking the hem of your dress up to your hips. 

He’s got one of his arms under your head, his lips at your ear as you spread your legs for him, letting his fingers slip through your folds to gather the slick that has slowly been gathering there all evening as you both watched each other, knowing what was coming. 

“So wet for me, pretty girl,” He breathes into your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth to nibble as he slips two of his fingers into your tight pussy, “Been thinking about me?” 

He drags those fingers from your core, up to your clit where he begins to play soft circles across it, it’s so gentle that your breath catches in your throat as you arch yourself into his hand, “Couldn’t stop,” You admit, turning your face to kiss his lips, “Thought about you all day.” 

He dips his fingers back into your cunt as he kisses you, you can feel him smirk against your lips when you grind down to meet his fingers, “I’ve been thinking about you all year, hot mama, couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.” 

He brings his slick fingers back up to your swollen bundle of nerves, showering it with attention as you whimper for him, arching your back and bucking your hips, fingers gripping at his arm as he works you to the crest. You come for him, moaning into his mouth as he kisses you, his fingers making sure they work you for every ounce of your orgasm. 

Joel has you more times than he can count that night. He brings you over the edge over and over again until you can do nothing but sob, beg for a reprieve but beg him not to stop. You let him put you in positions you didn’t know possible, his cock thick and heavy inside you, brushing that spot within you that makes you sing and scream for him. He fills you up with his cum, protected by the pill you take each morning, and then, when the sun is rising and the beginnings of the day break through his drawn curtains, you lie on his chest, fingers drawing patterns on his skin, slick with sweat. You’re both sore, both spent, and both happy, most importantly. You know that within the hour you’ll have to start the walk back to your own home and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Sarah will think her dad slept on your couch and you were in your rightful place, in bed next to Tommy, and that's how it will continue to be for another year, happy with the man you love, but safe in the knowledge that you still have this slice of heaven each year. The play will continue for another year – the doting uncle and niece, the happy family with their growing son, and you’ll be happy, because this is all you’ve ever needed. 

“I love you.” Joel whispers, lips pressing a kiss to your forehead as he brushes the sweat slicked hair from your face, his eyes mapping every inch of you, claiming this scene as his own, committing it to memory so he has one thing he can think of, in the depths of his nights, when he feels the loneliest. To remind him that he’s not lonely at all, because even if he can only have you once a year, at least he can have you. He’s a simple man and he’s happy to take this one moment with you, until you decide you want more from him, if that’s ever the case. 

“I love you too Joel.” 

[leasstories]

It was a personal issue

Based on @creativepromptsforwriting ‘s prompt “why did you never tell me”; “It was a personal issue.”; “you being in love with me kinda involves me.”

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

No trigger warning.

WC: 0.8K

You and Eddie are best friends. You have been for years. You also have been keeping a secret from him for a long time: you are in love with him. Not a simple crush no, you are head over heels in love. But you keep this information to yourself. You would rather have Eddie as a best friend than not having him in your life at all. The thing is that being around Eddie is getting harder and harder with time. You and Eddie are both touchy people, you always hug, play with each other’s fingers when you are anxious or play with each other’s hair during movie nights. Since a few months, every touch exchanged with Eddie sends a shock of electricity through your body and ignite a desire, the desire to be with him.

You currently are at Steve’s Harrington birthday party. You are currently nursing a beer, sitting right next to Eddie, your thighs touching.  Eddie also casually hooked an arm around your shoulders while casually talking with Robin. You don’t even listen to whatever they are saying, too focused on Eddie’s arm around your shoulders.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie asks, waving his hand in front of your face.

“Hm?” you ask.

“Tell Robin that Eddie Van Halen is cooler than Bon Jovi.” Eddie pleads, looking at you with his puppy dog eyes.

You raise your hands in surrender. “I don’t want to be in the middle of a musical argument between you two.” You say, chuckling and knowing damn well that as much as you love Robin, if you get involved you are going to take Eddie’s side, especially with the puppy dog eyes he gave you. Robin and Eddie keep going back and forth in their little argument for a little while, and you zone out again.

Once Eddie and Robin agreed that they would never convince the other, Eddie gets up from the couch for a smoke. When Eddie gets up, but you don’t follow, as usually do, nor react, he frowns.

“Sweets?” he asks, putting his hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“Sorry…” you tell him earnestly, shaking your head as to clear your head.

“Where d’ya go?” Eddie asks, a bit concerned.

“I was just thinking.” You answer.

When you and Eddie walk through the kitchen, you take this as an opportunity to refill your glass.

Then, Eddie and you step outside by the back door, Eddie leans against the wall before lighting his cigarette. Meanwhile, you take a sip from your drink.

“So,” Eddie starts. “What were you thinking so hard about?” he asks, always the curious one.

“Nothing interesting.” You answer, embarrassed and blushing.

“Tell me. Pretty please.” Eddie borderline begs, doing the puppy dog eyes. When he sees that you are not about to share with the class, he adds. “I am your best friend!”

You take a huge sip of your drink for courage before saying. “Promise me that no matter what I say it is not going to change things between us, promise me it won’t make you run away.”

“I promise,” Eddie says, putting a hand over his heart before adding. “Scout’s honor.”

You snort at that. “You have never been a scout!”

Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulders before saying your full name and insisting. “What was going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

You blush hard and sway from one foot to the other.

“I might…” you hesitantly start before taking a deep breath and blurting out. “I love you, Eddie.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you close your eyes, bracing for impact.

“Duh! I’m your best friend!” Eddie says, not catching the real meaning of your I love you.

You sigh, embarrassed. “No Eddie, you didn’t get it… I mean I love you more than a friend should.”

“Since when do you know?” Eddie asks, kinda shocked.

“I have been sure of it for a year.” You confess.

“Why did you never tell me?” Eddie asks.

“It was a personal issue!” you protest.

“You being in love with me kinda also involves me.” Eddie says, amused.

You chuckle at Eddie’s answer. “Yeah but I wanted to sort it out on my own before telling you.” You answer a bit embarrassed.

“Sweetheart, your love for me is not unrequited.” Eddie confesses.

“Really?” you ask, skeptical.

“Really.” Eddie breathes out, his face inching closer to yours. You both breathe heavily, so close that you can feel the other’s breath. When the tension becomes too much, your lips crashes onto Eddie’s. You both kiss passionately and make the most of it. A few hours earlier, minutes even this seemed impossible for the both of you. Even in your wildest dreams, you never thought you and Eddie would ever be more than friends. But now, even though you have not put a label on your current relationship, you know you have crossed the boundaries of friendship. There is no going back now.

Taglist:@abellmunsonmovie

[mt-oe]

OK, MIZU X VERY CLINGY READER?? like reader deadass will NOT let go of Mizu unless necessary and mizu will tease reader about it in a loving way. like just imagine reader snuggling on top of Mizu and resting their head on her abdomen and she just says something in a teasing voice like- “mm you just gonna keep holding onto me like that, love?” OH MY GODSOMEONE NEEDS TO MAKE MY BRAIN SHUT UP PLS😭

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Hey dear!

Thank you so much for the very cute and sweet request <3 Finally, a reason to push my drunk reader agenda forward www

Also, sorry if this took longer than usual. Hospital wifi sucked and my draft didn't save ;; I had to re-write a whole chunk purely from memory.

Not sure what is considered as 'lightweight' or whatever since I never really thought of those things when I drink, so if it's too much or too little then..oopsies.

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, short, mention of vomiting (mild), she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

It was already a few hours past midnight. Mizu was laying down on the couch, reading a random book she had found in the book store. 'The Honjin Murders' was the title. The cover looked cool and even had a knife on it, so it definitely got her attention. Because as much as she didn't want to judge a book by its cover, she's only human. We have our moments like that.

On her chest was her girlfriend, eyes closed, and cheeks flushed and warm. An occasional mumbling noise or a slurred-out random question like 'do you think I can fight a bear with my bare hands?' would come from you. Mizu wouldn't admit it but she was having the time of her life right now.

You had just gotten back from a girl's night out with your friends. A little way of catching up after a whole semester of not seeing each other. Akemi and the others invited her too, but she wasn't really a big fan of the effects alcohol had on her body and opted to stay at home.

Upon opening the door, the sight of your heavily flushed face, drunken unconscious smile and the disheveled appearance of Ise and the other girls greeted her. You all reeked of alcohol, heavy perfume, and a bit of tobacco. "Umm..girlfriend delivery..?" Akemi chimed awkwardly, sweat dropping at the miffed look on Mizu's face.

She narrowed her eyes in response to the little joke as her eyes landed on you. "I was hoping you'd bring her back conscious," she said in a low tone, making them laugh nervously. You were being held up by two of Akemi's friends, face heavily flushed, hair tossed out of the hairdo you put it in earlier, and your lipstick was replaced by a thin sheen of saliva. With a sigh, she gently wrapped her arms around you before picking you up bridal style, cringing at the smell of beer coming from you.

The moment you felt her warmth around your figure, you opened your eyes slowly, blinking the blurriness brought by intoxication off before letting out a grunt. She felt you tilt your head upwards, looking at her before furrowing your eyebrows together, finger raised up to poke at her chin. "Would youu...rather have...urgh..my nipples are rubbing against my bra."

Yep.

That was definitely her cue to bring you inside.

After bringing you in, the 'full caretaker girlfriend' mode in her brain switched on. She immediately helped you get dressed into something comfy, removed your makeup and did your skincare for you, and handed everything you said you needed even though you didn't need it. Hell, she even shoved her finger down your throat to help you vomit.

You were her little intoxicated princess tonight.

Once she was done helping you out, she completely expected you to go to sleep after. Little did she know that you've decided to be the clingy-type of drunk tonight. A small strangled-like gasp escaped her throat as you pulled her by the back of her collar, burying your face on her neck. "Nooooo don't go!" you cried against her skin.

She tried her best to get you to sleep, knowing full well that you were going to be the grouchiest hungover in the morning, but whatever she tried didn't work. Watching youtube videos, having a staring contest with you, playing slow songs. Now, she was stuck with you laying on her chest as she read her book.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" you asked her, speech still a bit slurred. Mizu raised an eyebrow at your odd question. Realistically, she knew she wouldn't, but reality didn't really matter when it comes to love. Only her girlfriend's happiness did.

She closed her book slightly to look down at you. Her breath hitched slightly as your glossy eyes looked back up at her, melting at the adorable sight. "Of course I would," she answered, giving your head a little pat.

"Liar," you huffed, closing your eyes as you nuzzled against her. "I see you step on worms all the time. You'd step on me too."

She huffed back at you with an amused smile. She could feel the pout in your voice. "I promise I wo—"

"It's okay," you cut her off with a drunken giggle. You looked back up at her, trying to lift your head but the remaining alcohol in your system allowed you to do so for a few seconds before you crashed back on to her chest. "I'd let you step on me."

Mizu rolled her eyes at your response. "You're very drunk. You know that?" she asked you, setting her book down on the carpet to pinch your cheek. "How did they even get you this drunk?" The playful exasperation was heavy in her voice.

You grinned at her, snuggling your face in between her breasts. "Well.." you trailed off, giggling a bit. "We haaad...Jager in a pretty preeeeeetty frozen little shot glass, then we washed that down with beer.."

A slight shiver went down her spine as she felt your hot breath against her collarbone. Her hands moving your hair to cool you off a bit. "Then..we had Cuervo. Then we tried this...this..cocktail that tasted like chocolate.."

"No wonder," she sighed, wrapping her arms around you. Although Mizu had admittedly had her fair share of bad experiences with drunks (mostly leading to fist fights), she had to admit, you were definitely the cutest one yet. "Next time, try to drink a bit more responsibly, okay?"

You shook your head at her words, wrapping your arms around her tighter. "I don't want to drink responsibly. I want my girlfriend," you whined, making her snort. You were definitely still too drunk for this conversation. "My girlfrieeeeend.."

"And who's your girlfriend? What's she like?" Maybe if she played along, she could finally get you to sleep. Blue eyes watched you sigh, melting into her arms with a dreamy smile. "My girlfriend is...my Mizu!" you answered, laughing slightly as your head rested against her breast.

She could feel your arms hold onto her tighter, weight pushing down against her's as you started to get a bit more excited. "She's the prettiest, coolest, grumpiest person ever..and she's mine!" you rambled, an amused laugh escaping her lips at your words. "H-Hey! Don't laugh!"

Mizu smiled at you apologetically as you continued to pout at her in drunken grumpiness. "Sorry, sorry. How 'bout we go to bed and take a nap so you can see her in the morning?" she asked, still playing along. "No! Dun' wanna!" you replied in a bratty tone, huffing once again. "You're staying with me!"

Your arms held on to her tighter, legs wrapping around her's almost possessively. "Mmm..So you're just going to keep holding on to me like that, love?" she said teasingly. At your nod, she chuckled and lifted you a bit higher so your head rested against the pillow, nestled near her neck.

Slowly, she felt your body relax, fingers releasing their grip on her shirt. The rhythm of your breathing becoming steadier, the depth increasing. Once again, she picked up her book and continued to read, wanting to pass a bit more time to make sure you were fast asleep.

However, while she was half into the book, you suddenly lifted your head again. She raised an eyebrow, a bit taken back at the sudden movement. "What is it, love?" she asked, getting ready to get whatever you needed just in case.

Your eyes blinked sleepily before you leaned your head down, planting a kiss on her lips. "G'night..I love youu," you mumbled with a soft little smile before crashing back onto the pillow. She blinked in both surprise and mild astonishment.

A goodnight kiss?

While drunk out of your wits?

Lord help her.

There was no way she could fight off a smile after that display. How did she score such a cute wife? Mizu had to take a few deep breaths to keep herself from laughing at how cute that was. Who cares if you woke up grumpy from your hangover? This was definitely worth it.

[storiesofsvu]

Good Little Pet

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, smut, kitten kink/very minor pet play, more mentions of it, strap sucking, daddy!emily, lots of dirty talk. Welp, we made it, the last halloween fic on November 8th. nbd lol. who knows if it's any good. Bare with me as I continue to try and get some one shots out for y'all!

To be completely honest, Emily was pretty exhausted, drained from a day of questioning sleazebag after sleazebag in an attempt to move forward on a case, the only saving grace was that it was local to D.C, no jets, no hotels and most importantly, she could come home to you at the end of the day. She’d already missed dinner, the sun gone from the sky when she finally trudged out to the parking lot, the car springing to life so the clock could tell her it was nearing ten thirty p.m. already. Plugging her dead phone in she let out a sigh and shifted the car into drive, by the time she hit the freeway her phone began to buzz with a couple of texts from you that she waited until she was at a standstill to check.

‘Guessing you’re trapped at work, I’m heading out around seven. Dinner’s in the fridge, lmk if you’re gonna swing by the party, you know the address.’  With a little smiley face and heart at the end. The next one was time stamped two hours later.

‘Ngl, I’m a little drunk. This Halloween punch is no joke. Would it be wildly inappropriate to say I want you to rail me into next week? God I hope you’re not on the jet rn galivanting off across the country because my hands just will not cut it.’

Emily barked out a laugh, shaking her head at your brashness before she swiftly typed out a reply, sly smile still on her cheeks.

‘It would only be wildly inappropriate if you weren’t my girlfriend. I’m on my way now, save me a drink.’

She signed it with a kiss and plugged the address into her GPS, taking note of the different exit she was going to have to take.

*

To be completely honest, you didn’t go out much, whether that was to the bar or to house parties, you especially felt like you’d outgrown the latter. You were much more focused on work and spending what free time you did have with your girlfriend considering she was out of town more often than not. So tonight was a special night where you were finally letting loose a little, indulging in punch, drinking games and catching up with friends you hadn’t seen in a while. The party was a mix of people, some you’d worked with in the past, their partners, friends, new coworkers, a full house including a handful of people you didn’t know.

You’d been catching up with April when one of those people you didn’t know sauntered up and introduced himself as Travis, his hand lingering in yours a little too long for comfort had you been sober. His intro line was funny enough to make you laugh and honestly he was pretty cute, if you were single and swung that way you wouldn’t have any complaints. He conveniently reached around you to grab a fresh beer out of the cooler, passing it off to his other hand so the first one could remain leaning on the counter, dangerously close to your body. You complimented his costume, earning a wide grin from him as he chuckled softly, paying both of you a compliment back before the three of you fell into an incredibly easy and comfortable conversation.

Emily managed to slip into the house unnoticed, though she wasn’t surprised, things were more than in full swing, people everywhere, lights low and music going. Crossing through the main living room there was a group of people half watching horror movies while shouting when to drink to each other while they talked over the rest of it. She caught eyes with a few people she recognized, giving them waves from across the room as she made her way through the space to the doorway of the kitchen where she heard you before she saw you. Your laugh always made her heart flutter, whether she was the one pulling them from you or not, her lips twitching up into a grin as her eyes searched through the darkened room.

Her eyes widened briefly when she saw you, dressed in a tight, sparkly black bodysuit with matching boy shorts over top, just enough of your chest peeking out over the top of the neckline. The tip of your nose was painted pink, whiskers drawn across your bright cheeks, a headband with cat ears on the top of your head and a fluffy tail pinned to the back of your shorts. She knew you hadn’t been planning anything extensive for your costume, not being one for dressing up but this was just the perfect amount to look good yet also drive her wild. As her gaze dragged up your body her head tilted, eyes narrowing at a hand resting on your hip that wasn’t yours, rather it was connected to the arm wrapped around your waist. The man beside you was laughing at something you said, leaning in to untangle a curl of your hair that had gotten wrapped around one of the cat ears.

She could tell that he wasn’t making you uncomfortable, the smile on your cheeks genuine and not just to appease him but that didn’t help the green eyed monster that was beginning to burn inside her gut. She wasn’t sure if it was an old friend or a stranger who was getting a little too cozy, but she certainly didn’t want him to stick around much longer. Slipping through the crowd she was finally able to approach you, a smirk breaking out on her lips when you spotted her, practically jumping away from the counter and your new friend.

“Baby!” You greeted, squeezing tightly at her hand as you popped toward her to steal a quick kiss.

“Hi babe.” She murmured back, smile on her cheeks before she was interrupted.

“Aw c’mon, you’re not even dressed up.” Travis interjected.

“Yeah?” Her hand found her hip, brushing back the front of her blazer revealing her Glock in the process.

“So what’re you supposed to be?” He asked again, smarmy grin on his cheeks.

“An FBI agent who’s pissed you’ve got your hands all over her girlfriend.” She replied with a stern gaze and he backed up with a laugh.

“You could at least let me hold your gun.”

“It’s not a prop.” Emily glared and he was across the kitchen without a second word, April disappearing to leave the two of you alone for a couple of minutes.

“He was harmless.” You giggled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“I know.” She huffed a laugh, “doesn’t make intimidating him any less fun.”

“You’re ruthless.”

“And you make one hell of a seductive cat.”

“Yeah?” You asked with a grin, “that mean I get to sit on your lap?”

“You can do a lot more than sit on my lap.” She murmured; her fingers splayed across your jaw to tilt your head toward her as her thumb trailed down your neck. She’d been intending to pull you into a kiss but when her thumb hit leather her eyes directed further south, widening at the black choker around your neck. It only took a second for her to realize it wasn’t a necklace, but rather a collar, complete with a gemstone at the front of it, her head tilted in confusion. “That’s not your birthstone.”

“No.” You chuckled, “it’s yours. All kitties have to know who they belong to, don’t they?”

“Well you…” her thumb moved back up, rubbing at your jaw, “seem to have forgotten that part.” She leant down, leaving a kiss on the side of your neck, her next words husked into your ear, “I bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.” Her teeth nipped at your earlobe as your breath caught in your throat, a tingle shooting through your entire body, “now kitten…who do you belong to?”

Your eyes widened, pulse quickening at the use of the new pet name, knowing no doubt it was brought on by the risqué costume you’d chosen for the night, completely unaware it was going to awaken something like this in Emily.

“You, daddy.” You whispered and she smiled, a hungry look in her eye as she leant in to peck you.

“Good girl.” Her hand slunk down your arm, fingers lacing with yours, “now, you promised you’d save me a drink.”

“Mmhmm…” Nodding, you took a breath to try and calm yourself before leading her to the drink table.

Emily’s hand didn’t leave your body for the rest of the night, lingering in the small of your back, resting across your shoulders, winding tightly around your waist whenever anyone got a little too friendly. Her lips would press into your neck, shoulder, cheek, temple, anywhere acceptable for PDA in a crowd like this, staying glued to your side to make sure it was known you were hers. At one point you leant over a table, tossing the beer pong ball back to someone and she caught Travis’ eyes looking directly down your shirt, lips forming a hungry grin that made her stomach churn. She grabbed your waist, swiftly turning you to her and catching you in a deep kiss, smiling at the way your arms instantly wound around her shoulders.

“It’s time to go.” She murmured and you let out a small giggle, whispering back.

“Whatever you say daddy.”

*

Emily’s tongue was down your throat, her hands pawing at your ass as she backed you down the hallway into the bedroom, nearly tripping over her own feet as she did. You let out a moan into the kiss, your hips rutting against hers as your arms wrapped tighter around her shoulders. Her teeth sank into your lower lip, pulling a groan from you as she reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, a fire in her eyes as she grinned at you.

“Can’t believe you dressed up like this just for me.” She said and you giggled.

“Well.. if it was just for you… it would’ve been sluttier.”

“How so?” She asked, a brow raised.

“No shorts, for starters.” Your fingers slipped into the waist band, shoving them down your legs leaving you in just the body suit, “probably more cleavage.” You tugged the fabric down further, exposing more of your chest and Emily chuckled.

“But now you’ve lost your tail, kitten.” Her finger curled under your chin, tilting your head to the side, nipping at you earlobe, “although we could get you a plug that has one.” Her lips brushed against your skin, “would you like that?”

“Mmhm…” You giggled, a gleam in your eyes as you looked up at her, “I didn’t expect you to be so into this?”

“What can I say?” Her fingers slipped between the collar and your neck, “I like it when everyone knows you belong to me.” Your breath hitched as she tugged on the leather, pulling you closer to her, a familiar need beginning to pulse between your legs, “now why don’t you show daddy what gorgeous lingerie you have on under this and get down on your knees like a good little pet?”

You nodded eagerly, quickly slipping the bodysuit off your body, letting it drop to the floor while Emily padded through the room, stripping her own clothing as she went. Her eyes stayed on you, a small smile on her lips as she admired your lingerie, lacy and black to fit the theme, hugging your curves perfectly.  

“That looks like my new favourite.” She purred, opening the nightstand drawer to pull out the strap, “how about you get rid of the bra, let me see those gorgeous tits, kitten.”

While you were ridding yourself of accessories, she was adding to her own, a smirk on her lips as she approached you, cock heavy between her legs. Her fingers curled around your cheek, turning your face up to her as her eyes slipped down to admire your half naked frame.

“Just so beautiful.” She winked, the tip of her finger tapping the tip of your nose, “now why don’t you get daddy’s cock nice and wet so I can fuck you so good you forget your own name, hmm?”

“Yes daddy.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even think, sitting up on your knees to brace yourself on her thighs while your lips eagerly wrapped around the tip of the toy.

You bobbed down it, sinking it into the back of your throat in the way Emily absolutely loved, her hips rocking it an inch deeper as she let out a soft groan. Her hand collected your hair, gently wrapping it around her fist while you pulled off her cock, tongue sticking out of your mouth and she chuckled, using her free hand to hit the tip of her dick on your tongue.

“Good girl.”

At the praise you smiled up at her, licking a broad strip up the toy before sucking it back into your mouth, inching down it once again. Emily’s hand tightened in your hair, pushing you down further and setting a faster pace as she continued to fuck into your mouth. You could feel drool pooling in the corners of your mouth and a similar wetness collecting in your panties, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt for some relief. Your mouth sunk down to the base of the toy, pulling a gasp from Emily when the movement nudged it right against her clit. Pushing her cock deeper into your throat you slowly shook your head, shifting it back and fourth and she groaned softly, her hand tugging you off the toy by your hair.

“Are you really that needy tonight kitten?” She asked, a fire behind her eyes and you nodded, chest heaving as you panted for breath.

“Please daddy.”

“Well then get on the bed, hands and knees.” She tugged on your hair, letting it fall from her hands as you stood, watching hungrily as you presented yourself for her. “Always such a good pet, aren’t you.” You felt the bed dip behind you as she climbed onto it, her hands sliding up the back of your thighs, squeezing at the globe of your ass before a hand spanked you and you let out a gasp, feeling the tingle shift from where she’d hit you spark through your body before settling in your pussy. Emily let out a small chuckle, her hands toying with your panties, “yes… I do think you’d look rather spectacular with a tail plugging that pretty ass.” She spanked you again, “for next time I guess.”

“Please…” You whined, pressing your hips back toward her, letting out a moan as her thumb brushed over your tight hole, pressing ever so lightly.

“Don’t worry kitten, daddy will take care of you.”

Her fingers slipped into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside before she chuckled darkly, her eyes settling on the glistening between your legs. There was no doubt you’d been waiting for this all evening and were absolutely aching for her to fill you up, walls fluttering around nothing as you let out a little whimper. Her hands slid up the backs of your thighs once again, pulling your pussy lips apart so she could admire you, watching the way the soft light made your juices practically sparkle. You dropped down onto your elbows, back arching and she hummed in appreciation as the angle of her view changed to one where she could see more of you, her fingers coming up to toy with your cunt.

“My pretty girl.” She purred, her slicked fingers rubbing up your back before they curled under your collar, “shame we don’t have a leash for you. I know how much you like to be choked.”

“Oh god…”  you moaned, your eyes practically rolling back into your head as she tugged at the leather, just imagining how much harder she could be pulling with the extra accessory.

“We’ll make a trip to the toy store this weekend.” Her hand moved to swat at your ass again, “get my pretty kitty whatever she wants.”

You let out a loud gasp when her body rocked forward, cock plunging into you until her hips were crashing into yours, your body shooting forward on the bed.

“Fuck!”

“You can take it.” She groaned, pulling her hips back to admire her cock slicked with your juices before it plunged back into your heat. “This’ll teach you, won’t it?” She set a fast and deep pace, each thrust of her hips driving you forward on the bed, the head of her cock brushing your g-spot, pulling louder and longer moans from you. “No more flirting with silly boys at parties.”

“N-no.” You moaned out, pussy clenching down around her as you began to claw at the bedspread, pleasure surging through your body, your skin already on fire as she continued to fuck you with ease.

“And who does my sweet kitten belong to?” She asked, giving a particularly hard thrust that drove you into the mattress.

“You daddy.”

“That’s my good pet.” Continuing to fuck deeper into you she leant over your body, leaving a handful of kisses across you bare skin. Your body shivered with each touch of her lips, thighs shaking as her hand found its way between them, gently pinching your clit before rubbing it in circles. “I know you’re close princess, you’ve been waiting too long for this. So good for daddy…”

“Fu-uck. Oh fuck!” Your eyes scrunched shut as you felt the coil getting tighter before, “harder!”

Your request was all Emily needed before her hips crashed into yours and you collapsed onto the bed, letting her fuck you into the mattress and her fingers rubbed harder at your throbbing nub. Only a minute later and the dam burst, cries of pleasure escaping your lips to bounce off the bedroom walls, the only accompanying sounds Emily’s pants and sopping sounds from your cunt as you reached your orgasm.

Emily’s thrusts slowed as your body shook beneath her, her hand disappearing from your clit, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your hips as she fucked you through your orgasm.

“That’s my good girl.” She cooed, “always so pretty for me when she comes.”

You let out a whimper in acknowledgement, barely nodding your head and she chuckled, giving you one last hard thrust that you gasped at before she gently pulled out, watching your juices dribble onto the bedspread. She tossed the strap to the side to be dealt with later, crawling over you as her hands soothed across your skin, lips leaving feather light kisses up your spine until she was fully over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple that you practically purred at while she untangled the cat ear headband from your hair, gently placing it on the nightstand. She shoved the covers down, rolling onto her back and tucking you into her side as you started to catch your breath, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin as she pulled the covers back up over the two of you.

Once your breathing was evened out you let out a soft sigh and she smiled, tilting your head up to kiss your lips before her fingers traced the pattern of the leather on your neck, the stone catching in the light.

“We are actually gonna go to the store, right?” You asked with a yawn burrowing deeper into her embrace and she laughed.

“I said, I’ll get you whatever you want kitten.”

“Good.” You grinned, eyes opening to look up at her, “not gonna lie, if I knew this was gonna awaken something in you I wouldn’t have waited until Halloween.”

Emily rolled her eyes, swatting at your ass through the blanket as you laughed, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Her fingers traced the choker, pinching at the gem, “you like wearing this?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded.

“Should get you something more dainty for everyday wear.”

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” She pinched at your chin, “maybe that way you won’t forget whose pet you are again.”

“Definitely not.”

___________________

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[haikyu-mp4]

Two jobs, part 2

word count; 1107 – set a few years after part 1, reader and Osamu are married and the three of you live together. I gave your son a name, Kazuo, to make writing easier

You were away on a business trip and left your two favourite guys to take care of each other for a few days. Luckily, you didn’t have to do this often, but you were relieved they got along so well that you could. Even though Kazuo grew attached to Osamu in a way before you two even started dating, it had been an adjustment for all of you after you got married and moved in together, especially because your son was at his most difficult age.

Currently, Kazuo sat on a bar chair by the island counter while Osamu made dinner. The two would often hang out in the kitchen together, because Kazuo liked spending time with Osamu when he had an excuse for it. He also found it hilarious when he asked his stepdad for help with his homework and Samu got frustrated because he didn’t understand it either. It was a peaceful connection they had, and you usually did your best to let them have their time in the kitchen to themselves even when you were home.

“Hey, look at this.” Osamu said to catch his attention. When Kazuo looked up, he did some weird juggling trick with the pepper shaker before adding the necessary seasoning to the soup he was making. Then he did the same with the salt to show it wasn’t a fluke. “Am I cool, or what?” It was meant as a joke, but there was a hopeful look in his eyes.

Kazuo made a face. “Uhh… yeah.” he said, which was an obvious lie, making Osamu deflate. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt particularly sensitive about it all of a sudden. Perhaps it had something to do with the difference of how Kazuo looked when he got to play volleyball with his twin compared to how he politely declined lately when Osamu asked him if they should do some passes in the garden.

“Do you not think I’m cool?” he asked after a long silence, leaning one hand on his hip while the other stirred the soup to make sure it didn’t stick to the bottom.

“Not like Tsumu.” Kazuo answered honestly without thinking about it, eyes on his homework so he didn’t notice his stepdad’s face scrunching up. If he thought he felt sensitive before, that one hit the spot for sure. “But it’s okay, being a chef is good too.” The boy honestly didn’t think adults cared so much about being cool.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t take pity on me now.” he said followed by a deep sigh. “Maybe I should cook you instead, you gremlin.” Kazuo just laughed, unknowing of Osamu’s bruised ego. When he turned back to his homework, Osamu pulled his phone out and opened messages, sending a simple ‘You’re ugly and stupid’ to Atsumu without context. That made him feel a little better, at least. You bet he’ll call you that night before bed for some reassurance. And to remind you that he loves you, of course.

Sometimes, Kazuo was allowed to go to parties in exchange for sharing his location at all times while he was away with whichever parental figure was home at the time. Usually, the parties were alright. Typical underage parties where someone had stolen a few beers from a parent and they all tasted it before looking disgusted and swearing to never drink it again. He would be picked up at the agreed time with a few complaints of how lame you were for setting those rules, and then he would tell you he loved you under his breath before going to bed.

However, they were growing older and that came with engaging in new topics of interest. That’s how Kazuo ended up in a game of seven minutes in heaven that he desperately wanted out of. It’s not like he could just tell them he might prefer guys over girls, he wasn’t even sure yet himself! It was all too much, so he snuck away and pulled out his phone with slightly shaky hands. You’re still on your business trip, and he was starting to miss you even though he would never tell you that. After all, you were the only one he relied on for the first 10 years of his life.

He pulled up his contacts on the old phone you had gifted him, scrolling past your contact until he got to a Miya. Even though he knew Atsumu liked spending time with him, he didn’t seem to have that much spare time anymore. Actually, he probably wouldn’t call Atsumu for an emergency anyways, he realised. Tsumu was more of a cool uncle, like he told Osamu in the kitchen the day before. Now that he was in trouble, he already knew who he had to call.

“Samu…” Kazuo said, voice cracking a little so he pretended to clear his throat.

“What’s up, buddy?” Osamu sounded tired, like he had taken a nap in that recliner he loved to occupy when you weren’t home. If you knew he snoozed off while your boy was at a party, you would not be happy, but at least he picked up the phone.

“Can you come pick me up?” he asked not too loudly, frowning at the floor. “I’m okay, I just want to go home.” He tried to sound tough and chill, but it didn’t fool Osamu.

“Sure, I’ll head out now. Go outside in about 15 minutes but not before. Actually, stay inside until I’m there.” Kazuo chuckled a bit at Osamu’s short ramble where he corrected himself, then he hummed in confirmation and hung up. So he told his friends he was feeling under the weather and went outside when Osamu came to pick him up.

Kazuo didn’t say much more than “Thanks for picking me up,” and “I don’t want to talk about it,” after getting in the car, and Osamu knew he would rather tell you about it than him, so he didn’t pry.

Instead, he clicked his tongue with a cheeky smile. “You know, the new Star Wars movie just came out for streaming. I won’t tell your mom we stayed up late if you don’t.”

And as he looked to the side where Kazuo fiddled with his hands in the passenger seat wearing a relieved smile, safe because he dared text him for help, Osamu decided that he didn’t need to be cool. He just had to be there.

Even so, his chest bloomed with pride when Kazuo came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth for the night and told him, “Thanks for the movie, Samu. You are pretty cool.”

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