#he really did duck lips huh

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

He really went :v

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: noncon/dubcon, bullying, reader wears glasses

♡ gn reader

Thinking about jock bully hunting you down after the bell rings...

You hurry – haphazardously shoving your books and pens into your bag before slinging it over your shoulder – ready to get out before the chimes are even done singing.

Thankfully, it seemed fine for now as you couldn't hear the roaring of buzzing students in the hallway just yet, only your own class packing up their belongings with movements rather lazy compared to yours. 

But you couldn't afford to take your time – even with the free period following the end of your class. You needed to leave before he could find you.

"Where’ you off to in such a hurry, Specs?"

You ought to have knocked on wood before finishing your thought – you admonished yourself with eyes squeezed tightly shut and a punishing bite to your lower lip.

It's funny – you winced – how his voice is so casual, so breezy and laidback, all cool and friendly – funny how it sends such spiky goosebumps down your spine.

You ignore him, trying to squeeze past him – quick and dexterous as you attempt to slip away and disappear out the door – maybe be so lucky to lose him in the crowd.

"Whoa, whoa- you tryna run off on me?" He joked. His large hands held up to block your way. 

You watch the rest of your classmates leave – leaving you to fend for yourself. But you couldn't really blame them… none of you wanted to explain new bruises to worried parents at home.

He was like a shark circling, and if he smelt blood in the water, you were as good as done for. And you were like an open cut.

"Now, what did I do to deserve a disappearing act, huh?" He pouted. His head tilted, blocking out the lights in the ceiling, shadowing his already scary face. 

You nearly squeaked instead of speaking. "Please- I- I-"

"Calm down, will yah?" He dismissed. Flashing you a wide smile – the one that nearly fooled you into believing he was a good and decent guy. "I ain't come to pick on yah…"

You didn't listen. Once again, you bravely tried to push past him with your bag squeezed tightly to your chest – trying to rush to the door.

But his size was like the door itself. Big and squared. Muscly and tough as he blocked your way effortlessly. Though, no less bothered with your insistent attempt at running away from him.

"Now, when I tell you to do something-" He laughed passive-aggressively as his hand reached out to clutch the handle on your bag, yanking you back. "You should perk up and listen, yeah? Use that head of yours for something useful for once."

His knee rode up between your thighs – making you whimper where you stood, caged between his thick arms and the desk behind you.

"Wouldn't wanna make me angry now, do yah?"

His breath tickled your face, and you bowed your head under his gaze – unable to take your eyes off of the veins flexing along his beefy arms as his large hands gripped the table’s edge, sleeves rolled up like usual – the sight of his knuckles whitening, making you queasy with unease.

You tried ducking away once again. "Please, I need to-"

But he just clicked his tongue at the measle effort. Cutting you off yet again. 

"You don't need to do anything but stand here and entertain me." He decided with a voice a bit more biting than before.

You jolted, your eyes round and wide as you looked back up into his glare.

He laughed out a lighthearted chuckle before his hand broke off from marring the desk – scratching the back of his neck with an apologetic smile – serving a small effort at easing your worries where you stood tense and rigid in your place in front of him.

"Thing is…” He started once again, his tone back to normal – or whatever he wanted you to think was his normal. “Coach is gonna kick me off the team if I don’t get my grades in order.” He explained. “So’s thinkin’ since you’re such a good little nerd, you wouldn’t mind helpin’ me out.”

His hand reached out to tickle your chin.

“M’sure havin’ a cute little nerd-tutor like you is exactly what I need.”

Your throat was so tight you thought you might just choke. “I don’t-”

“Good!” He boasted over your pitiful protest. “Since y’got nothin’ better to do, how ‘bout we just head straight for my dorm right now?” He asked – though you knew better than to think it was a question. “Le’me carry that for yah-”

He yanked your backpack from your chest, ripping it out of the tight hug before throwing it over his own shoulder.

“I can carry you too if yah want?” He posed – smirk loud on his face as he placed his large paws at your waist – followed quickly by you shooting your arms forward to shove him off in protest.

But though you thought you’d put in some strength behind it, the boy in front didn’t budge at all. 

He just arched a brow as though asking if that was really all you had. And you hoped dearly he couldn’t see how the stiff muscles of his shredded chest had actually strained your wrists instead.

“What do you say, short stuff?” He leaned in, his breath foggy on your glasses and hot on your cheeks, as his hands clawed themselves into the fat of your waist, pulling you off your feet just a bit.

“N- no, thank you.” You stuttered out, stumbling a bit as you braced yourself against him. Your eyes squished close as you bowed your head away from him in a mix of fear and embarrassment while you suppressed the mortifying feeling of nearly pissing yourself.

But the tall boy realized little of your inner turmoil – rather enjoying it as he scoffed out an amused laugh at you. “A'ight then, come on.”

He yanked you along – his large paw gripping your arm as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. Nearly needing to resort to jogging where you otherwise tripped when the gap between the two of you became so large you had to skip a step or two to catch up – and before you even realized it, you were already standing outside the boy’s dorm waiting for him to find his keys.

He unlocked the door and welcomed you inside with the same grace of a warden showing a prisoner to their cell – with the weight and breadth of his warm hand on the small of your back as he nudged you inside.

The room had an overwhelming dank scent of both bodyspray and sweat and other things you’d only expect to smell in a boy’s locker room.

“Yo.” Came another voice from inside.

“Sup, roomie.” Your bully replied lazily. Grinning at how you gripped his shirt, all but jumping into hiding behind him. 

You’re cute…

“Who’s that you got there?” His friend arched a brow at you, where you peaked at him from behind your bully’s sleeve.

“I’mma need the room.” He announced, not really answering the question.

The roommate then scoffed with a grin, beholding you with slim eyes for a moment, then scoffed once more before he got up to leave.

“Don’t hit the books too hard – Coach’ll have your ass if you don’t bring your A-game later.” He warned, pulling his gym bag up on his shoulder as he excused himself.

You looked around once he was gone, spotting dumbbells and other equipment – and quickly realized how there must be many more muscles beneath his shirt than what you’d already borne witness. 

“So- uhm-” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you awkwardly turned to the boy. “Where're your books?”

Your bully smiled, taking a casual step toward you. “My books?” He asked, nowhere near even trying to sound the least bit genuinely confused.

“Your- uhm...” You paused, feeling uneasy. “Textbooks?”

His smile sharpened. “That’s cute.” He mocked sweetly while buttoning up the small black buttons of his white uniform shirt, giving a flash of those muscles you’d been anxiously anticipating. “You actually thought we were gonna study?”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Miya twins, Tendou, Ukai ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[purinfelix]

lost and found ✮⋆˙ - franco colapinto

pairing: reader x franco colapinto summary: when you find a curly-haired rookie lost in the wrong garage, you don't think much of it - that is, until he continues showing up, and you begin questioning his intentions w/c: 1.3k (wow jet writing an actual long-ish fic? you better believe it)

a/n: FIRST FRANCO FIC !!!! i've literally been having franco brainrot ever since azerbaijan so here you go (this is your sign to send in franco requests <3)

You spot him out of the corner of your eye nervously ducking out of the way of engineers and strategists, as you prepare for the race ahead. Considering that this is the Red Bull garage, his bright white fireproof sticks out like a sore thumb and when you turn to look at him, his own eyes widen in embarrassment - confirming your theory that he's lost. He's that newbie you've been hearing about, frank? or something, you don't really care to be honest, but he's in the wrong garage and even though he's not one of your drivers you're sure Williams is worried about where he is.

"Are you alright?" you say, and he stops his frantic looking around to look at you with flushed cheeks.

"Yeah, I'm-"

"In the wrong garage," you say flatly, trying your best to stay serious and hide how amused you are at this.

"Yes, I got that, I just can't figure out how to get back to mine," he laughs in a slightly offended tone.

You nod, feigning annoyance as you silently walk ahead and hope he knows to follow you. "Look kid, I don't know if this is your first time on a paddock but you can't really be wandering around other team's garages, even if you are lost. It kind of looks like you're spying on us or something and feeding information back to whoever you've reserve driving for."

His footsteps pause behind you. "Who are you calling Kid?" he scoffs, equal parts irritated and entertained.

"Huh? Well, how old are you? You don't look older than 19."

"I'm 21, thank you very much," he spits out, crossing his arms with a smug look, "and how old are you?"

You pause, awkwardly looking around, "20, but it's clear I have a lot more experience in this than you do." You huff and spin back around, trying to ignore the fact you can hear him stifling laughter.

As you finally make it back to the Williams garage, you open the door and let him in through it, but before he does he pauses to turn you.

"Thank you-" he says, pausing for you to give him your name, and even though you're reluctant to give him the opportunity to spread the news about this embarrassing encounter, you do anyways. Something about the way he looks at you, eyes expecting and a smile toying at his lips, you feel strangely like you'd do about anything he asked.

"And you are?"

"Franco," he says, with an earnest smile, almost as if he's enjoying this situation more knowing how awkward you feel. "I'd wish you good luck, but I doubt you guys will need it," is the last thing he says before he disappears back into his own garage.

And even though you feel a little flustered about the entire situation, you shake it off and head back to your own area, determined not to let it get the best of you - not now, not before a race. You don't even think of him again, besides an occasional glance up when you hear his name said by a commentator, or when you spot his car coming into the pit lane, but that's nothing outside the realm of your duties as a mechanic. You really couldn't care less about him, you tell yourself, and you feel as though you'd be perfectly fine never crossing paths with him again.

But he doesn't seem to share the same idea, because the minute the race is over and you're turning to join the rest of the team out near the podium, you spot him lingering near the door of your garage once more.

"Lost again?" you say as you walk up to him, trying your best to keep as straight a face as you can.

"Not anymore," he replies once he sees you, a reassured smile on his face, "did you see how I did?"

Two feelings wash through you simultaneously - one rational, one asking who the hell this guy is and why the hell he thinks you'd be watching him instead of the very team you work for, and the other a sense of embarrassment, because as much as it pained you to admit, you had been watching him.

"8th?" is all you say in response - not wanting to give too much away about how you felt.

"Yeah, my first points!"

"Well, it's hardly a podium," you scoff, eager not to inflate his ego - after all, he was older than you and surely didn't need to be treated like a preschooler with gold stars. But the minute the words leave your mouth, you watch his excited expression change until slowly he dons a look of embarrassment. Your heart twists and you're suddenly reminded that for whatever reason, instead of celebrating with his team, his family, the girlfriend - which you were sure he had - he had come here, to tell you - someone he had met for the first time mere hours ago.

"Sorry, that was rude, congra-" you begin.

"Is that a challenge?" His voice is low, and it hits you unexpectedly.

"Pardon?"

"Are you challenging me, to get a podium? I mean, I'm still a rookie but I guess if I had a good enough motivator I could do it."

You're caught in a dilemma again, why on earth would you be motivating a different team's driver to do well? If anything, you should be doing the opposite, you had the opportunity to do something for the sake of your team right in front of you - albeit something definitely against FIA ruling - but for some strange reason you couldn't bring yourself to take it, instead playing into his game further.

"And what kind of motivator are we talking about here Franco," you pause to watch him smirk at the sound of his own name, "if you're after secret team intel I can't help you there but if you want, let's say, to know where to get the best coffee on paddock or-"

"How about your number?"

"Wh- Huh?"

"Your number? How about if I get a podium, you give me your number."

He says it so plainly as if it's a simple conclusion, and yet you're speechless. As you stand there silently taking in what he's just said you're equally aware of the fact that he's watching you, which only makes you more flustered.

"What for?" is all you manage to get out, and even though you know it's a stupid question, you want to be sure.

"Oh c'mon, you're a mechanic, surely you can't be that clueless."

"Right," you nod, looking down at your feet shyly and after a moment of silence his concerned voice pipes up again.

"I mean, I know we basically just met, and I know how ridiculous this is, so if you really don't want to I'm not going to force you into anything. You see, I'm really not that kind of guy, I'm actually really a gentleman and usually I'd-"

"Alright," you say definitively, cutting off his nervous rambling - which, if you're being honest, you can only just hear over the pounding sound of your own heart.

"Wh- really?" he asks in disbelief, even though he's the one who proposed the bet.

"Sure, if you can get a podium before the end of this race season, I'll give you my number."

Just at that moment, you hear the rest of your team filing back into the garage to pack up, as well as the distant sound of someone calling for Franco. You look up, partially to silently tell him that the two of you needed to be wrapping up soon, but mostly to watch his face turn from shock to a proud smile as he nods eagerly.

"Okay, yes, sure!" he says sort of breathlessly, "well I guess I'll see you around then. Same time next week?"

You let out a low laugh at his joke, "Sure see you then, and good luck." You watch him turn to jog out of your garage, and as he turns the corner you can still see a beaming smile on his face as he goes - leaving you with the weight of realising just what the hell you've gotten yourself into.

[unkreativstermensch]

"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“

"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"

At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."

Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.

He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“

Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?

"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“

Eddie blinks. "What?“

"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“

Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-

Steve takes another step back.

"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“

Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"

"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“

Oh.

Oh no.

Eddie fucked up.

[earthchica]

sweetest things

terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: After losing the love of your life, you've been hesitant to open your heart to someone new, but that might change when you meet Terry, your next-door neighbor.

warning: FLUFF, strangers to friends, dog lovers, mention of death, grief, falling in love again, kissing, pet names { baby girl & more }

note: I genuinely enjoy writing, sweet Terry, and I see some of you do, too. So here's another one... this might be a mini-series, idk! Please, enjoy!

{ part two }

-

You recently moved back to your hometown and just settled into a new, comfortable starter home with your Bernese Mountain Dog, Zeke.

You were in the middle of unpacking when Zeke made a muffled bark to get your attention.

You turned your gaze towards him, and he was sitting in front of you, tail wagging furiously with his leash gripped his mouth firmly,

Indicating he was eager for a walk, you smiled at him before checking the time and decided you two could benefit from a walk.

You've been spending so much time cooped up in the house, trying to make it feel cozy and welcoming.

You feel the urge to explore the new neighborhood, so you put on some shoes, grab your keys and bag, and secure Zeke onto his leash before heading out.

The lovely neighborhood park contained a lively playground filled with children's laughter.

A dining area with picnic tables next to a lake where ducks swam and a dog park where dogs romped in the open spaces.

Once you unhooked Zeke from the leash, his tail wagged eagerly as he approached a group of dogs in the park.

His playful nature and sweet demeanor were evident, but he also displayed a sense of readiness to protect himself.

The sun shone as you sat on the wooden bench, your trusty bag by your side.

You were immersed in a captivating book, stealing glances now and then to ensure Zeke was still within your sight.

Your head lifted from the pages when you noticed him meandering to someone on another bench.

"Come here, Zeke." You called but he did not listen and dashed towards the man seated in the distance.

You quickly rose from your seat, hastily gathered your belongings, and dashed after him.

As you caught up with Zeke, you witnessed a man petting him softly.

The guy softly utters, "Hey," with a slight smile playing on his lips.

"I'm so sorry," You apologized, making yourself known. The man raised his gaze, and you found yourself locked in a gaze with his striking, grayish-blue eyes.

Your eyes widened in awe at the sight of his strikingly handsome features—his tall, muscular frame, captivating eyes, full lips, and caramel-brown complexion.

"It’s all good! I'm Terry," he said with a friendly smile, extending his large hand.

You took his hand to shake and introduced yourself with your name.

"And this is Zeke. He loves meeting new people and being playful."

"I could tell! if you hadn't shown up, I would have been tempted to steal him," He said with a chuckle, and you giggled in response.

"Oh...nah...He's my baby. You'll have to fight me," You said playfully while gently scratching under Zeke's chin, his tail wagging happily.

Terry chuckles again but softly. It sounds warm and genuine. You don't know why, but it makes your heart flutter.

"I feel ya. I just rescued a dog named Nala...not too long ago. She's brought a lot of joy into my life."

"Really? Where is she?" You asked, curious as you scanned the area for his dog.

He calls over a golden retriever, the epitome of cuteness. You crouched down, gazing at her, before asking.

"Oh, she's so cute. Can I pet her?"

“Sure.” He responded with a smile, nodding in approval.

"Hi, sweetie," you cooed as the adorable dog wagged her tail playfully and joyfully.

With a cheerful skip, she runs over to play with Zeke.

“I'm guessing you two are new around here, huh?” He asked, politely gesturing for you to take a seat.

You eagerly sat beside him on the bench, happy to be in his company.

"Um, kind of to neighborhood, yes. The state, No. I was born and raised here proudly by my mom," you exhale deeply, feeling a little nervous at his gaze.

Get yourself together, girl. He is just a man.

“Oh...that's what's up.” He said admiringly.

“Um…how about you, Terry?” You asked with a smile, slightly turning your body towards him.

“Well...I moved here about a year ago after losing someone close. I guess I needed a fresh start.” His reply was honest.

“Oh…I’m sorry for your loss. I've lost someone close too,” you said, lightly touching his shoulder.

You and Terry talked for hours until you realized it was getting late. If possible, you would have spent an entire day conversing with him.

Terry kindly offered to accompany you back to your place, using the time to learn more about you through the walk.

Upon reaching your front door, you slowly turned to face him, a genuine smile spreading.

"Thanks for walking me home, Terry. It was nice talking and meeting you and Nala," you said.

"Of course…It was very nice meeting you and Zeke here," He says with a smile.

The air crackled with tension as you both locked eyes for what felt like an eternity.

His gaze flickered away briefly, and then he cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"I'll see ya around," His words were accompanied by a soft smile directed at you.

"See ya around," You said, eyes fixated on him as he sauntered away, gently tugging Nala along. She glanced back at you and Zeke, her tail swaying happily.

Much to your surprise, you discover he resides just across the street from you.

You knew that was gonna be a problem; you didn't need to get close to someone, and you didn't need the guilt of moving on haunting.

After the devastating loss of your fiancé, you thought that you would never be able to open your heart to another.

You attempted to avoid Terry and keep your distance, but his kindness and genuine care drew you in.

You've ended up spending a lot of time getting to know Terry, whether it be over doggy playdates at the park or cooking delicious dinners together.

Terry shared how he was an ex-marine. He also talked about the tragic loss of his cousin, Mike, and how he exposed the corrupt system in Shelby Springs and successfully won the case.

Then you opened up about your past, including the loss of your fiance and your work as a teacher.

When you spoke about your late fiancé, Terry was incredibly comforting and kind, genuinely touching.

Every interaction with Terry felt genuinely comfortable. He was easy to talk to and willing to listen, and spending time with him was incredible.

You found yourself falling for him, which terrified you. You tried to plant doubt in your mind to halt the growing feelings, but you couldn't.

You were surprised that an amazing man like Terry hadn't been snatched up by a woman yet.

He was definitely husband material. You disconnected from your thoughts as you made your way to his house.

Your heart quickened with anticipation as you walked across the street to his front door.

You knocked, waiting for him to swing the door open with a big grin, ready to say something goofy that would inevitably make you giggle like a schoolgirl.

However, this time, things seemed different. As the door swung open, revealing his unexpected presence, your jaw fell in surprise.

Terry stood there with only a towel wrapped around his waist, using a smaller one to dry his head.

The towel hung provocatively low on his hips, and you couldn't help but stare at his well-defined chest and chiseled six-pack abs.

Damn! Stop, he's your friend.

"You're early," he remarked, pulling you out of your reverie. You gazed at him, bemused, as he casually slung the small towel around his neck.

"Say what?" you asked.

With a chuckle, he remarked, "You're early. I wasn't expecting you for another hour."

"I am?" You checked the time on your Apple Watch and realized you were over an hour early.

Looking up at Terry, you noticed a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Well, since you're already here, come on in," He says, moving to the side to let you in and entering his house, sweet Nala greets you with a wagging tail and joyful barks.'"

"Hi, sweet girl," You greeted her with a joyful expression as you bent down.

You then lovingly rubbed her head with both hands. She scanned the area, hoping to glimpse Zeke.

"Sorry, Nala. Zeke isn't with me tonight; he's spending time with my mama," you said, leaning in to place a kiss on her head.

Terry stood still, his gaze fixed on the captivating scene before him. He had never encountered anyone like you—your sweetness, thoughtfulness, intelligence, and beauty.

His feelings for you were growing steadily, and he yearned for the day when he could openly share these feelings with you, hoping that you would reciprocate.

"Terry…Terry?" Your gentle and soft voice jolted Terry out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?" He inquired with a puzzled expression, clearing his throat as he looked directly at you.

"You good?" you asked, looking at him with genuine concern.

"Yeah...Yeah. I'm good. Imma get dressed" Terry's words were barely out of his mouth before he swiftly ascended the stairs, leaving you no time to respond.

"What was that all about?" You asked, looking down at Nala, who appeared just as perplexed as you were.

With a nonchalant shrug, you went to the kitchen with her casually.

"So what are we cooking tonight?" Terry entered the kitchen with a soft, charming smile.

The confidence in his snug white T-shirt accentuates his body.

"I thought I'd make dinner for you tonight," You said, bustling about the kitchen, gathering ingredients and utensils to prepare the meal.

"But we always cook together," He said, moving over to you. You felt your heart flutter with his every move.

"I know...but I've been dying to make you my mom's famous fried fish and mac and cheese. I know you would love it. So let me, please."

"Okay, okay...baby girl. Do ya thang then?" He said with a smirk before making his way into the living room with Nala.

After finishing the meal and elegantly plating the food, you eagerly anticipated Terry's first bite.

"Is it good, Terry?" You inquired with a look of curiosity on your face as you poured yourself some wine.

He makes a sound that does something to you. "It's…so good. You did great job"

"Thank you!" You laughed heartily, lifting your fork and beginning to savor the delicious food on your plate.

As the evening progressed, you both enjoyed a delightful dinner and lighthearted banter accompanied by glasses of wine.

By the time you reached for your third glass, you could feel the pleasant effects of the wine, and a gentle sense of tipsiness began to set in.

You can't stop laughing at Terry's shocked expression.

"You playing with me, right....you've never heard of this famous song by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell?"

"I've heard of Marvin Gaye but not this song..." You nonchalantly remarked with a casual shrug, then lifted the glass to your lips for another sip of your wine.

"Nah...come on, baby girl." He rises from the comfortable couch, leaving you perplexed.

"What?" you inquired, delicately setting your wine glass down on the coffee table before turning your gaze towards him.

"Dance with me," With a warm smile on his face, he extends his hand towards you. You reciprocate the smile and gently clasp his hand in yours.

You two danced around the living room, laughing. Terry began to sing playfully every lyric to you, which put a wide smile on your face.

He slowly stopped and looked at you with those eyes that you came to.....love?

"You know...these past months with you have been so amazing for me. I-I....baby girl, you've made me feel things I didn't even know existed. I love being around and talking to you; your smile and your laugh make my heart smile....." He laughs before continues

"Your kindness to others...how you help people without a thought. I'm drawn to that, I'm drawn to you....I'm falling hard for you...baby" He confessed.

His beautiful words rendered you speechless. Silence fell between you two, the only sound being the music from the radio in the kitchen.

Thoughts of doubt and fear overwhelmed you, becoming too much to handle.

"Terry, I-" You said softly, looking away for a second.

"Shhh...it's okay. I just wanted to tell you," Moving closer to you, he leans in and gazes deeply into your eyes with his captivating grayish-blue eyes.

Your gaze travels up to meet his eyes and lips. You part your lips to speak but press them against his instead.

His lips felt incredibly soft and tasted sweet, leaving a lingering sensation of tenderness and warmth.

Terry pulled you closer, responding to the moment with his arms encircling your waist.

His touch sent shivers down your spine as you gently touched his neck.

The sensation of kissing him was so incredibly passionate that it seemed almost intoxicating.

The tender embrace of the kiss possessed the extraordinary ability to transport one to a state of pure euphoria.

Slowly, both of you pulled away from each other. You two stood there for a few minutes, mind blown by the kiss.

You found your voice again.

"I-I should go," You were about to make your way toward the door, but Terry held you tight, halting your movements.

"You don't have to, baby girl?" His words were spoken softly as he gently caressed your cheek.

"No, I do. I'm sorry, Terry," you responded with a quick comeback, swiftly slipping out of his grasp and exiting.

[rebelliousstories]

Rightful Spot

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Mentions of Fighting

Word Count: 1,521

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: After coming back to his timeline and finally joining in on missions, Remy underestimated how powerful cuddles could be.

Consider Donating: Here

Looking back on it now, he could have stuck that landing better. However, the circumstances leading to him having to stick a landing were a bit unforgiving, so it should not have been terribly surprising. Still, falling from the sky and rolling into a dark alleyway was not how Remy wanted his welcome home to be.

He could not complain though. Remy was home. He was back in his own universe, and now had a renewed sense of purpose. Stumbling out into where he could see lights, familiar sights and sounds greeted him like old friends. New Orleans, Louisiana; home sweet home. Gambit was on Bourbon Street, which was always hustling and bustling.

His feet began the trek to who knows where. All he knew was that they were going some place familiar and safe. The man ducked and weaved, making his way effortlessly through the crowds. In his hands, a card was always there, just in case. Further and further from the crowds, his feet took him. Down to where there were some apartment buildings, his brain finally started catching up with his feet. Taking over, Remy bolted up to the top, and began to run across the rooftops to his destination.

Dropping onto the fire escape, he thanked whatever was out there that he managed to keep mostly quiet. Peaking inside the window, he was shocked to see someone was still awake. In fact, multiple someone’s had been awake and moving about the apartment. Remy could not hear what was being said, but he knew those faces. Scott with his red glasses, and Jean with her matching red hair, Storm with her flowing white locks, and her. His cher was sitting there entertaining them all.

She looked like she was exhausted. Not from sleep, but mentally and emotionally tired. She looked like how Remy felt being in the Void. In her hands was a mug of something warm, probably that tea she likes to drink, and one of Gambit’s jackets around her. His heart tugged at the sight, and his lips curled in a smile. She never did do well with the cold.

Picking the lock on the window, Remy silently creeped into the apartment. Their eyes had not noticed the new person in the apartment, but he noticed how quiet it had gotten. Before he could speak, his body was suspended in the air as Jean turned to face the man. But she gasped in shock and let the man go almost immediately. The rest of the party was just a second behind her.

“Now, that ain’t no way to treat da Gambit, no?” His hands began massaging his body as the other people finally reacted to the new arrival. He heard her voice whisper out his name as he stood once more.

“Cher, I’m home. I’m so sorry.” But before he got any closer, Scott stepped in front of the ladies.

“If you really are Gambit, what’s something only he would know, huh? What was the last thing he said to me?” Scott pressed, worried that this might be an imposter.

“Cyclops, really? I just got back, mon ami. We really gonna have us an inquisition right now?” But the man was not swayed.

“What was the last thing Gambit told me?”

The Cajun was looked around for someone to support him not doing this, and just wanted to lay his eyes on his girl again. But he groaned, and wiped a hand over his face in frustration.

“Gambit told ya, ‘I’ll go on the mission. Jean needs ya here. Tell my cher dat I love her.’ That was the last thing I told ya before leaving for that damn mission to go so some recon on the brotherhood.” Everyone stood down. But Scott was still unimpressed.

“Where have you been all this time? And why only come back now?” He continued, even though Jean was tugging at his sleeve.

“Went on dat mission, and touched down in da forest. Didn’t find no brotherhood, but instead some people called da TVA takin’ bunch o’ dem out. Next thing I know, I wake up in da desert in some place called the Void. Been der evea’ since. Den a Deadpool and a Wolverine fought to leave the Void, and bargained for my freedom to come back as well as others. Believe me now, Scott?” Remy was getting fed up with answering questions. All he wanted was to get her in his arms.

Before anyone could speak again, he was nearly knocked over by the weight and force of something hitting him hard and fast. Remy regained his balance and looked down to see his girl squeezing him tight. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Hands landed on his arms, and he found Scott and Jean there on one side, with Storm on the other. Remy pulled the rest of the gang close as he relished this moment he never expected to have again.

After a few months of training, flying back to New York to go live at the school again, and a brief adjustment period to not always being on edge about who or what was going to find him, Gambit was back in the field. He did not do solo missions anymore, but he was excelling in team exercises again. This last one had kicked everyone’s butt though.

What was meant to be a simple mission of going down to help stop a mutant riot in the city, turned into a full scale brawl with the Brotherhood. In the end, they had eventually stopped the riot, but not without acquiring some scratches and bumps. The flight back to the school was a silent one; one where everyone that was not navigating the plane just wanted to rest with their eyes closed, and their brain off.

It was a smooth landing, which was a blessing. But having to walk back up was a curse. Every bone felt ten times heavier, and their feet felt like they were made of lead, but they did it. Bidding his teammates adieu, Remy continued his climb to where their room was. Thankfully, she had moved back into the mansion, having left when Remy disappeared, and was staying in their old room together. It was just like no time had passed.

Creaking the door open, he was delighted to see that she was folding some laundry with music playing somewhere in the background. Upon hearing the footsteps, she looked up, smiled, and abandoned her task.

“Remy, you’re home! Are you alright?” Her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug that made him groan.

“Ease up, cher. Ol’ Gambit done had the card house dropped on him.” Pulling away, she saw that a bruise was starting to form right underneath his chin. She traced a feather light touch over it, and furrowed her brows.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She pleaded, worried to see what other marks he had gained in the afternoon that he had been gone.

“Non, cher. Just finish wit’ dem clothes so we can lay down, yeah? Gonna go get out of my suit now.” Gambit pressed a kiss to her lips, but was careful over the split he felt in the corner. While he went to the bathroom to change, she resumed her task of getting the laundry done.

Her mind was distracted, and worried about her lover that was just on the other side of the door. She could hear his groans and hisses, especially once the water started and he was underneath the stream. Setting out a loose shirt, and an equally loose pair of pajama pants, she went to work putting the rest of the clothes away while waiting for him to come out.

The door opened, and she just had to turn to see. Bruises started darkening already, and there were some minor scrapes, but that seemed to be the brunt of his injuries. With a towel loose around his hips, he grabbed the clothes from the bed, and sent his lover a wink. Not a seductive or even teasing wink, but rather a way to say thank you. He disappeared back into the bathroom, and she changed herself to something a bit more comfortable. As she was pulling the covers back from the bed, Remy emerged once more, with damp hair, and a fresh set of clothes on.

Gambit crawled into the plush bed, and sunk into it with a groan. She giggled, but crawled in beside her lover all the same. His arms, no matter how bruised or sore, opened wide to accept her right where she was supposed to be. They were facing each other, and her hands were tucked up against his chest to keep her close. One arm under her neck, and one around her waist, Remy kept her as close as humanly possible.

“Je t’aime, cher.” Remy whispered, pressing a kiss to her hairline as they began to drift off.

“I love you too, Remy.” She replied, feeling perfectly at peace in her spot with her lover.

[pinkroseblooms]

obsessedloner!Choso/chubby!f!Reader) pt.1

Summary: modern day college au! Choso pines over his cute classmate. Ngl this is super self indulgent, probably OOC, with lots of fluff and smut, borderline crack really. Enjoy!

Warnings: stalking, unhealthy behavior, p in v sex, unprotected, possessive/obsessive behavior, smut, and etc. Choso is clingy and borderline yandere.

wc: 4.2k

You’re a sweetie pie, friendly to everyone but seemingly not close to anyone. You wear cute dresses and blouses, and have adorably round cheeks, so plump and cute, with a warm smile that puts every person you speak with at ease. Choso on the other hand, though not socially inept per say, simply doesn’t put much effort into socializing with his classmates or really any person outside his tight knit circle. All Choso really needs is his family and a couple close friends, the ones he’s had for years. He doesn’t need to win any popularity contests and with his pale, nearly translucent skin, inky black hair, and somewhat somber expression, Choso had something of a reputation for being creepy. Walking down the street, zoned out eyes and a thin lipped frown, it wasn’t uncommon for a person to double take, wondering if they had seen a hulking onryo in physical form.

And so, when he met you, Choso was at a loss. Suddenly everything he did seemed so awkward and stilted. He was fumbling over himself attempting to make your acquaintance; from being assigned to class projects or during group discussions, of which Choso found himself hanging on your every word with rapt attention no matter how boring the subject material actually was, he could never seem to find the right thing to say. It was a miracle when he was able to speak at all, outside of strictly school related topics. 

On a mild sunny day, it was a classmate had ultimately been the one to indirectly help Choso make a connection. They had pointed him out to you, who had been sitting unaware on a blanket in the campus courtyard with a book and a snack, Your peaceful, cozy study session outside was interrupted when a classmate came by to say hello and warn you of the strange man watching you from the smattering of trees and bushes surrounding the area.

��He’s always staring at you.” They winced as Choso ducked further behind the large oak he was half obscured behind. “What the hell? I can call security for you.”

“Oh it’s Choso.” you beamed in his direction, waving one of your arms over your head. “Hey Choso! Wanna study with me?”

Unsure if he was hallucinating, Choso ventured from his spot, steps heavy as he walked briskly to where you were camped out on the grass. Your classmate gave you a strange look. "Will you be okay?”

“Aw, he’s just shy.” you told them, your smile widening as Choso lingered a few feet away from the edge of your blanket.

“Uh huh. Alright then” 

With a shrug, they left you and Choso alone; for a few seconds, neither of you spoke.

“Hi.” Choso looked from you to the retreating classmate, and back to you again. “Can I sit down?”

“Sure!” you patted the spot next to you. “Are you hungry? I have some cookies in my bag, made them myself.”

You chatted with Choso about nothing in particular; he mostly nodded or gave one syllable answers as he munched carefully on the cookies you offered. He heard you talk about baking once or twice before; granted Choso is pretty neutral on most desserts but ever since hearing about your casual hobby, one of his favorite fantasies was you gifting him with sweets made with care: chocolate on Valentine's Day, a special cake for his birthday, or maybe you wearing nothing but a cute apron in his kitchen while he pinned you over the table and-

Well, maybe he's getting ahead of himself.

“You know, you could have just come over. How long were you gonna stand there?” you asked after Choso finished the cookies; you had brought extra, hoping to see him around campus again. Nothing said, "let's be buddies" like sharing homemade goodies, right?. “Besides, someone might think you’re stalking me.” you joked.

Choso hadn’t exactly meant to follow you; he really had intended to come over and greet you properly, ask if he could sit or if you wanted to get a coffee, something. Every time he tried to approach you, Choso ended up lingering near you, telling himself he would say something, a hello at the very least, but his feet would end up feeling like lead blocks and his palms would get clammy. Besides, you looked so content to be alone typing away on your computer or leisurely reading a book in your lap. What if you thought he was annoying? What if the only reason you treated him nicely in class was because you didn’t want to be rude and you secretly thought he was an off putting weirdo? Just imagining you looking up at him with apprehension or disgust made Choso’s resolve crumble. By the time he found an ounce of nerve to take a few steps toward you, you were already heading out of the library or the courtyard or the campus cafe and he was left feeling stupid and cowardly. Besides, of nothing else he could be near, just in case someone unwanted came along to bother you. Choso would put a stop to that easily.

“Sorry. I was going to, but you looked busy and…yeah.” Choso scratched at the bridge of his nose, nail grazing over the tattoo; his stomach flipped, remembering how you complimented it the first week of classes. No one else really talked to him but everyone seemed to like talking to you. He had been so surprised, he hadn’t even said thank you, just nodded and averted his eyes back to his notes. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You don’t bother me. Actually,” you pause before taking out your phone. “I was going to ask during our next class: do you want to exchange numbers?”

Choso looked up at you, stricken faced and back straight. “You were?”

“Sure, this way we can make plans to hang out.” you explain casually, smoothing out your skirt as you shifted toward him, contact list open and ready to add his name. With that brief movement, your skirt hiked up higher over your thighs just well past your knees; Choso bit the inside of his cheek and prayed you didn’t notice his gaze flicker downward. It would take less than a second to reach over, feel the exposed skin, squeeze with his rough hand, and then he could get a better idea of how it would feel to have his head trapped between your quivering thighs while he-

“You mean it? So," Choso gazes at you hopefully; his eyes are so intensely fixed to yours that you almost feel the need to look away. "We would see each other outside of class?”

“Yeah, let’s get coffee or something. Also, if one of us is already busy, we can just reschedule. Or, you know, we can just text each other whenever. No pressure.” you gave him a thumbs up. “Sound good to you?”

“That makes sense.” Choso types his number into your phone; the pads of his finger are thick and he’s trembling a little, so he has to redo it twice. “Um, can I sit with you? Like, right now, I mean.”

“Of course.” you nod and scoot over a little to make more room for him on the blanket. “By the way, that song I heard coming from your earbuds the other day, it sounded good; what was it called?”

Choso was wrong, assuming approaching you would be the thing to test his will power and courage the most. Now that Choso has your number (he put a little rabbit emoticon by your name, his cute chubby bunny) he has to rein himself in from messaging you every fifteen minutes and even then he knows he texts you too much. Even so, no matter how many messages Choso sends, you never seem annoyed. Weeks go by and Choso has gone from sending you brief inquiries about the class material and when the next day off is to regularly texting you good morning and goodnight, links to videos he thinks you’d find funny, songs that remind him of you, pictures of ramen from the new spot he and his brothers had gone out to eat at, even an occasional selfie that had been taken about a dozen times until Choso felt confident enough to send it.  And that wasn’t getting into the questions, unprompted and random, about your favorite color, food, time of day, your family, your birthday, your preferred sleeping position.

You can’t lie, the attention is flattering and you find your heart seize up whenever Choso is brave enough to approach you first, when he starts cracking jokes, bringing you coffee and snacks every class, and finally volunteering more and more info about himself without your prompting. You want him to share things about himself with you, to feel comfortable and at ease. It took a little time and careful coaxing, but it was well worth getting to know this fiercely strong yet oddly gentle man. Choso who seemed to operate on a completely seperate set of rules and morals than most people yet still tried so hard to please you, as if it were his life's mission to do so. You never felt so curious about someone or so determined to have them be a part of your life.

In a short amount of time, Choso has become your shadow, always scrambling to pack up his notes and pens to follow you when you leave the room, practically bounding at your heels when you say you’re going off campus for a meal or shopping. He insists on accompanying you, offering to foot the bill, carry your bags; if you so much as sniffle, Choso is urging a packet of tissues and a bottle of tea into your hands. He knows it’s a lot, but he can’t help himself and you’re so quick to return the favor, to pay for him, bring him little gifts, check up on him if he’s looking particularly tired (usually because he was up all night stalking your socials and planning your next “date”)

You say one nice thing to him and Choso wants to shower you in praise; he doesn’t care if it’s excessive. Sure, technically you’re not his girlfriend, but in Choso’s mind, you might as well be. Besides, he’s happy just making you happy. So when the day comes where you put it all out on the table and ask him to be honest about what his feelings are, Choso is surprised he even has to spell it out.

“What are we?” 

The movie has been paused and you put aside the bucket of popcorn Choso had just made fresh for you with extra butter topping along with the pack of your favorite candy as a surprise gift for movie night. You’re sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the hem of the band t-shirt Choso had lent you when he accidentally spilled coffee over your pretty new blouse. You never did give it back and Choso had never asked for you to return it. This is the first time he’s ever seen you so hesitant. 

“Listen, Choso, I like being your friend, I really do. I’ve never gotten this close to anyone before. You’re very...special to me, but I haven’t been completely honest with you.” you admit quietly. “I really, really like you, as more than just a friend. I’m sorry if that makes things weird. I know when you care for someone, you go all out, so maybe I’ve been misunderstanding this whole thing. I just had to tell you. You deserve to know. You’re such a great guy, I hope you’ll consider still being my friend.”

“I love you. Be my girlfriend.” 

Choso’s tone is so blunt and matter of fact, you’re almost startled into silence. 

“Oh. You love me?” 

“Yes.” 

"Oh." you repeat, still a tad taken aback. "I guess I was worried over nothing. I figured you might have a crush on me, unless I was mistaken, but I...really didn't expect this. Choso, are you sure? When you say love, you don't mean like a friend; you mean, love in 'that' way, right?"

Choso nods, pretty much looming over you; his outward expression is stoic, but you recognize the way his hands clench at his sides and his posture stiffens as him trying to calm his own nerves.

“I do. I meant it exactly how it sounds. I always wanted more, but I didn’t,” he shifts from one foot to the next, unsure whether it would be okay to sit next to you. “You aren’t scared of me? It’s really not…too much?”

Choso’s blood runs cold as you abruptly stand; you’re leaving. It’s too much too soon. Your patience has run out. You think he’s an overbearing freak and you’re going to run away, block him, avoid him. His eyes widen as you stare at him resolutely and it takes every ounce of strength he has to not crumble at your feet and beg you not to leave, to just give him a chance to show you how happy he could make you, the lengths he's willing to go to have you love him.

"I, I'm sorry." Choso steps forward, as if to block your path. "Just hear me out, one more time, plea-"

“I think I love you too.” you say softly, reaching for him slowly and cup his face in your warm palms; Choso brings his large hands up to cover yours, like he's trying to get you to squish his face. “I want to be with you.”

“Are you serious?” Choso exhales shakily. “You really love me?” 

You nod and lean forward barely a centimeter. “You’re really just too cute; can I kiss you now? Am I moving too fast?"

The words are barely out of your mouth before Choso wraps you into an almost painfully tight bear hug, your face is squished into his chest, arms trapped to your sides as Choso mutters softly into your hair.

“Are you really mine?” Choso asks quietly, his deep voice cracking a little as he drops onto the bed, cradling you like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind any second now, caging you with his whole being. “I know I get carried away. I just want to keep you safe. If I could, I’d keep you by me all the time. Is that wrong?”

“I don’t mind.” you smile into his sweatshirt and inhale his scent deeply. “I know you’re not a bad person. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Never!” Choso looks scandalized and you can’t help giggling a little at his bulging eyes and gaped mouth. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before. I’ll try to do my best; if I ever hurt you, even by accident, you can hit me.”

“But I don’t wanna do that.” you tell him with a pouty frown. “Aways so extreme. How about we just talk and apologize or something?” you wriggle out of his strong iron band like arms enough to look him in the eyes properly. “Choso, you’re kinda squeezing too tight, can you…?”

Choso immediately loosens his hold, but he doesn’t give you any additional space. “Sorry.” he mumbles, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “Can we still stay like this for a while?” 

“Oh shoot, I was going to make a joke about you taking my breath away.” you grin impishly and return the hug with your newly freed arms. “So, about that kiss? Not that we have to! I guess we’re already moving pretty fast.”

“Not fast enough.”

"Huh?"

Choso’s eyes flicker to your mouth and his tongue darts out to lick his own bottom lip briefly. “Can we?”

“What?” you have to gather your thoughts as Choso sits back; your legs are on either side of his hips now as you find yourself propped up on his lap. He’s looking at you with a familiar intensity, but you can’t help feeling a little nervous; after all, it’s the first time you’ve been this close to each other, in this kind of position.

“Wanna kiss.” Choso’s words come out faintly slurred, despite not having a drop to drink all night. The movie that had been playing on his tv is still paused, the only source of light in the room. Choso had one hand on your lower back to steady you; the other was on your hip, his thumb rubbing circles underneath the hem of your shirt. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Okay. Thank you.” you offer him a smile before leaning in again, pressing your lips to his lightly, once, twice, three times, until Choso apparently decides chaste pecks aren’t enough. He groans into your mouth, the tip of his tongue wet and broad, tentatively licking as you part your lips wider. He’s getting loud now and suddenly his hands are gripping your thighs; you gasp, but it’s muffled by Choso’s mouth fully over yours as he rocks his hips. He’s grinding into you, hands rubbing your thighs and waist, traveling up your body to your chest. He loves how your plush tummy feels, how his fingers easily sink into your thighs. Choso has the sudden urge to bite into your chubby cheek.

“Choso,” you manage to break the heated kiss only for him to switch to nipping and sucking at your neck. “Wha-what are you-?”

“Can we keep going?” Choso pants, resting his head on your chest. “Please? Can I touch you more? Please?” he’s groping your breasts, staring at them almost in awe. “I want to see them. Can I…?” Suddenly, a look of dread overtakes his needy expression and he draws his hands away back to your waist. “Is it okay? If you don’t want to, I’ll stop. I just,” he breathes in and out shakily; you can feel him, pressing in between your legs. He’s hard, moving frantically, like he's not in control of his own body, rutting against your plump ass and pussy to feel some relief, frustrated he can't feel you completely with stupid clothes getting in the way. “Sorry. I want it so bad, I’ve never done anything before, so…but I can wait, I just get so worked up and you feel so soft, I'm s-sorry-”

“It’s alright, I’m just surprised: I've never seen you like this before.” you confess as you run a hand through Choso’s hair; it’s still a bit damp. He showered before you came over for movie night; you don't think he anticipated this, but then, Choso’s been surprising you all evening. “Are you ready? I'm okay Choso; you’re making me feel good. I didn’t think you would want to go farther than kissing, but if you're up for it,” with a teasing smile, you spread your legs and rub against him. “Do you want to fuck me tonight, Choso?”

Choso can’t speak for the moment, so he nods his head rapidly, cheeks flushing, brows furrowed as he rocks his hips in time with you, nearly bucking you right off his lap from the force of it. 

“Hold on.” you slowly lift your shirt over your breasts; you hadn’t bothered wearing a bra and from the way Choso lets out a ragged curse, you think he appreciates that. “You definitely want to keep going? Here, you can play with them; it’ll feel better if you get me all wet first. Go ahead, touch me all you want.”

“Does this feel good?” Choso’s thumb lightly rubs back and forth across one of your pert nipples; he’s practically salivating as you keen and whine, back arching, your hands gripping tight onto his broad shoulders. “Can I use my tongue?” he slowly moves forward to the other side, lips parting already, eager to know how your skin will taste.

“Oh god, yes!” your voice pitches higher as Choso gently circles the tip of his tongue around your nipple before suckling it; his hand gropes at your other breasts, pinching and rolling his thumb and forefinger carefully around, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. Choso's looking up at you through his eyelashes with a hooded adoring stare. You look like a dream come true, writhing on his lap, his shirt pushed up to your neck; he’s been dreaming of this, having your tits in his face, his hands, in his mouth, imagining how they’d feel, what your skin would feel like on his tongue.

After a few minutes, Choso releases your breast from his mouth. “More.” he demands in a low, hoarse voice. “Want more. Wanna see it…wanna see your pussy now.” you move up on your knees so Choso can slip your shorts down past your thighs. His fingers trace the cloth of your panties almost teasingly but really he just wants to savor every moment of this. Choso feels how wet you are through them and gulps. He's so close. He’ll get to feel you soon, feel how hot your insides are, how hot and wet your pussy will feel on his throbbing cock. Hurriedly, Choso yanks off his own sweatpants, barely taking a second before he has you on your back, head propped up on his pillow and recently washed comforter. He hoped it would be like this someday, that you would be here for him like this, naked, legs spread, his shirt still pushed up to show off your cute tits, your shining eyes basically begging for him to split you open on his cock. He’s happy you’re his first time; if Choso has his way, you’ll be his first and only. 

“I want to fuck you while you wear my shirt.” Choso strokes himself, from his base to his pink, leaking tip, settling between your thighs. “You’re mine now, right?” he asks, grunting as the thick head of his cock prods at your soaked pussy; he’s teasing your clit, loving the way you toss your head back, the way you’re actually dripping as he bottoms out. The feeling could knock the wind right out of him if Choso wasn’t so determined to have you just as overwhelmed and needy as he was feeling right now.

“Is this okay? Does it hurt?” Choso pistons his hips, holding your thighs open as he moves inside you; you manage to shake your head before letting out a shrill wail as Choso begins grinding into you as deep as he can. He’s rambling, greedily grabbing at you, holding you open, kissing and biting all over your exposed neck and breasts. “Fu-fuck, you feel so good! So soft and warm, I can’t get enough….wanna cum deep inside. Does it feel good? Am I making you feel good, am I making this pussy feel good?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” your nails drags over his shoulders and back as you struggle not to go limp from the force of his thrusts. “Choso, want to cum, touch me, please, I can’t take it anymore!” 

“You’re gonna take it. Gonna make you cum all over my cock.” Choso mutters; he’s slowly lapping at your hard, oversensitive nipples, salivating, completely lost in the way your pussy is clenching and the sweet pain of you scratching him, the burning red lines surely visible against his pale skin but he’s happy to let you mark him up. “Like this?’ he reaches down, still holding one of your legs up slightly while his free hand rubs his fingers over your clit. “Fuck yeah. I felt that, felt your pussy gush again. Go on, go on,” Choso grinds himself into you as he rubs your swollen clit, steady and quick. 

“CHOSO!” you scream as your body spasms; the sheets underneath you are damp and your body is hot and tense. The way he's stimulating every one of your most sensitive places is driving you crazy, you can barely think, just feel and listen to Choso’s low, raspy voice egging you on. “Oh god, please! I’m gonna-” 

“Yeah, cum on my dick. Cum all over me, you look so fucking hot right now, so cute...my chubby bunny.” Choso’s lips form an oddly soft grin as he watches you come apart; he feels it, feels you cumming around him, your pussy suddenly impossibly tight as you shake and sob. “Sh, sh, you’re okay.” his touch is slower, gentle on your clit, letting you ride out your orgasm. He thinks you’re so precious, twitching and whimpering as you come down from the high. “Shhh, relax. I’m going to move, okay? Can I?” 

Somehow you hear him through the haze and your rapidly beating heart and you nod. “Ye-yes, I want it. Keep fucking me.” you carress his cheek, smiling weakly. “Keep going, cum in me Choso. It's okay, I love you.” 

That’s when what little self control Choso had left snaps like a twig.

“Thank you." Choso wraps your trembling legs around his hips, anchoring you to him whole he shoves his cock as deep as he can inside you. Your mouth falls open but you can't even scream; somehow, it's like Choso’s gotten even harder. "Oh fuck thank you, I can’t believe it, can’t believe you’re letting me, thank you, thank you so much!” The headboard is knocking into the wall; all you can do is cling to Choso as he moans and babbles under his breath, rams his cock in and out of you like a man possessed. “Mine.” Choso has you wrapped in his arms again, pressing your limp ragdoll body to his. Your voice is too weak to let out more than little whispers of moans and frail, broken cries. “Fuck, you’re really mine.” Choso smiles down at you, cheeks flushed and eyes glistening with affection; he’s so close to cumming but he doesn’t want this to end. “Wanna keep you here with me all the ti-time, in my bed, gonna fuck you until you can’t go anywhere. Heh,” Choso kisses your temple with a satisfied, drunken smile as he strokes your fucked out face almost reverently. “You like that? Your pussy just got so tight. Let me, okay? Let me just take care of you from now on.” he picks up the pace again, molding you to him, kissing you as you go light headed; you may just pass out from this, but you don’t care, too busy getting swept up in Choso’s pleas and whines as he gets closer and closer to his own release, though he's the one at your mercy.

“Can I? Can I really cum in you?” he stutters, more begging than asking but either way he’s already losing himself in the sensation as his cock twitches and throbs with overstimulation. “Yes, yes, more, wanna stay like this, deep inside, gonna cum, gonna cum, shit, I’m gonna-!” Choso’s jaw clenches tight and he buries his face into your neck with a long, rough sob, rocking against you until he’s sure every last drop of his cum has been spilled deep inside your aching pussy. He has you in another deathgrip of an embrace but you melt into his arms, smiling dazedly as Choso brings your hand up and presses a loving kiss to your palm. 

“Sorry...I got carried away again, didn't I?” 

“You don’t look very sorry.” you pant, poking his tattoo lightly and let out a soft laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sit up for a bit.”

The bridge of Choso’s nose crinkles and he does look a bit guilty now. “Sorry. I’ll take care of you. Hang on, I’ll get a towel.” 

“Mm, thank you.” you kiss his forehead. “You made me feel really good, I’m just super worn out. Could you bring me some water?” 

Choso nods and quickly stands up to fetch what you need; he’s still a bit dazed himself. When he comes back into the room, you’re still wearing his shirt with nothing else; he can see his cum slowly dripping down the inside of your thigh and has to stop himself from mounting you again. It’s obvious you’re tired and besides, there’ll be plenty of time for round two tomorrow morning when you’re waking up in his arms. “Hey,” Choso murmurs as you settle in under the covers with him. His finger lightly traces a particularly large love bite on the side of your neck. “Are you really mine?” “Choso, you really do worry too much.” Still, you can’t help but smile; he’s staring again, waiting raptly, looking absurdly innocent and almost childlike as he gazes at you beseechingly. “I’m all yours.” you kiss him tenderly once more before snuggling into his chest; Choso inhales sharply and has to fight back the tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He could die of happiness right now but then he wouldn’t get to have more kisses. 

“Come over for dinner tomorrow? I want to introduce you to my family.”

“I’d love to.” you sigh, content as Choso’s hand strokes up and down your back. “I can bake something.”

“Would it be too soon to say you’ll be their sister-in-law?”

“Hm, let’s hold off on that for a while.”

“Okay, I can wait.” Choso smiles, kissing your head gently. “Do you want to have kids?”

“Choso.”

“Sorry, right.” 

“It’s alright.” you murmur sleepily. “Talk later, sleep now.”

“Okay….can we do it again when you wake up?”

“Yes.”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Okay, so I’m weirdly into the idea of being someone’s estranged wife???

Imagine being Patrick’s estranged wife?? Like maybe he married you bc he couldn’t have Tashi and then just…never signed the divorce papers? And now he’s knocking on your door bc there’s a challenger he’s gonna play in buttttt his bank account’s a little low so could he pretty please crash with you? He’ll sleep on his couch and be on his best behavior, he swears

Queue him crawling into bed with you at 2 am bc it’s cold in the living room and you’re soft and pretty and whoops, he’s hard

Ooo love this

Warnings: Fingering, Patrick Being Patrick, bitter and estranged ex-wife Reader

"You have any chicken nuggets?"

"What are you, five?"

"Adults can enjoy chicken nuggets."

They certainly could, but you didn't grace that reply with a response, just watched with tepid interest as he rifled through the contents of your fridge.

A single phrase kept resounding in your mind:

I should've left him on the doorstep.

And maybe you should have. It wouldn't be the first time that you'd given Patrick the cold shoulder, and it wouldn't be the first time that he just parked in your driveway and slept in his car. But you just couldn't stand the sight of him out in the cold, pouting and gnawing on his lower lip in the fish-eye lens of your peephole.

"Why don't we order a pizza?" He tacked on.

We. It was always 'we' with him, but never in the action, or the cost—that was a 'you' action, not a 'we' more often than not.

"Who's paying for it?" You asked. Patrick turned to you with a dopey, guilty little smile affixed to his lips as he cocked his hip.

"Well until I sign the papers, the two shall be as one, right?"

"Yeah—Why haven't you signed, by the way?"

"Your guy's never been able to serve 'em." He turned back to the fridge, ducking his head as he looked around. "You got any beer?"

You rolled your eyes. "Third shelf, at the back."

"Bingo. Want one?"

"Not right now. But thanks for offering me something that I bought and paid for. Really appreciate it."

Patrick huffed a soft laugh as he turned toward you again, opening the beer against the edge of the counter.

"Mine mine mine," He teased. "What is it with you and what's yours, huh?"

"Just stating facts, Zweig."

"So self-righteous, Mrs. Zweig." He used your married name with a vinegary smile before taking a deep swig from his bottle, pointedly ignoring the way that you bristled. "So. Pizza?"

--

Just the couch.

Patrick had pleaded it between bites of pizza, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth to clear the crumbs and oil left behind. He'd framed it as a reasonable enough request, like it was the easiest thing in the world to let your estranged husband back into your home.

You won't even know I'm there.

As if you hadn't been fighting to find a harmony within yourself for the last year, trying to serve him papers for the last six months, to get your divorce to take, to rid yourself of his last name.

Watching him sort through the garbage bags of clothing that you'd packed up for him to come and take between tours had been a little pitiful, but he'd unearthed what he'd needed to sleep in.

"Still have a toothbrush for me?" He asked.

"No."

"Face wash?"

"Don't you just use soap?"

"Yeah, but you put me on that, uh—That regimen, that routine."

"You never followed it."

"So you threw the stuff out?"

"I wasn't using it, so. Yeah."

"Huh." Patrick straightened, PJs in hand. You couldn't help but watch him strip off as he passed you, eyeing the ripple of his back muscles as he tossed his shirt in the direction of his bag.

"I'm showering," He called over his shoulder, "If you'd like to join me."

"I'd rather chew glass, but thanks."

--

He was sleeping. He had to be, right? It didn't matter if he was or wasn't. It didn't matter that Patrick Zweig was asleep on your couch, just a floor away. It didn't matter that you were worked up, at the midpoint between pissed off and turned on.

How did he always manage to do that to you?

You should've been able to clock early on that it was trouble. None of your friends or family thought it would work out, and you'd been chagrined when they'd been right. For as much as you had once loved him, for as certain as you and Patrick had been sure you would fit, that you would fix whatever needed fixing, no matter what fate had in store for you, you just...Couldn't.

It didn't help that he had been chasing glory on the court, or that you had spent your relationship trying to fill the shoes of a woman that you could never be. It didn't help that the two of you were just fundamentally different, in ways that you either of you were unwilling to compromise. When he'd left, it hadn't been a surprise, but it had been so goddamn hard to serve him papers. But you'd had such trouble trying to pin him down during your relationship, why should the way you broke be any different?

But when you'd been in bed together—Hell, you'd been even more certain that it could work. You and Patrick just fit. Things had been so right with so little conversation or hesitation. Your needs had fueled one another's, and you'd been able to lose yourself in him. It should have been enough.

But it wasn't then, and it wasn't now.

He was asleep. He had a match the next morning, and he needed his rest. You could do the same—You should do the same. You needed to be staring at the ceiling right now like you need a goddamn hole in the head. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and doing your best to focus on your breathing. In for five... Hold...Out...For...Five...In for...One...Two...Three...Four...

Your eyes opened, your breath catching as you heard the door open. You held completely still as you heard the door close again, chased by the soft pad of feet along your floor before the mattress dipped beside you. The covers shifted, lifting and falling as he laid down.

"Are you asleep?" He murmured. It was another moment before his palm skimmed across your belly, his rough cheek nuzzling against the curve of your shoulder. Your breath left you in a soft sigh, your muscles untensing bit by bit.

"I know you haven't been here in a while," You muttered, "But this is not the couch."

He huffed a soft laugh. "I know," He snuggled closer, and it was just a moment before you felt the press of his cock against your hip. You drew in a shaky breath, hands lowering to his arm.

"Patrick," You mumbled. "You should be asleep."

"I can't sleep." His teeth scraped along your jaw as his fingers snaked under the hem of your nightshirt.

"Indigestion?" You squeaked. "Shouldn't've had that third slice of pizza. I told you not to."

Your eyes squeezed shut as he rolled his hips against you.

"This feel like pizza to you?"

"Well—"

"Baby," He pleaded. "You gonna tell me you didn't miss me?"

It took you a moment, and you couldn't help your slight squirming.

"Not even a little."

He laughed again, and you knew that you hadn't been able to sneak a thing by him.

"You don't have to lie. I saw you watching me." He tipped his chin up, sucking a tender kiss to your neck. And you had, but—

"I wasn't."

Patrick tutted disapprovingly. You shuddered, arching up into his touch as his thumb skimmed across your hardening nipple.

"You're a shitty liar, you know that?"

"You're an asshole," You hissed as Patrick lifted his head.

"You like it."

You couldn't get a word out to argue as Patrick's tongue swept between your lips. You whimpered in spite of yourself, sinking back against your pillows and raising your hand to fist in his hair. He was over you in a moment, body shoving your thighs wide as his hands rucked up the bottom of your sleep shirt. You drew in a sharp breath as his head dipped to catch one of your nipples between his lips. You tightened your grip on his, shivering as he teased it with his tongue.

Patrick's hips ground against yours, rolling against where you're growing slick in your sleep shorts.

"How long's it been?" He murmured, "Huh? Since me?"

And it was too embarrassing to say—too embarrassing to admit that you hadn't slept with anyone since Patrick left.

"Shut up," You hissed, "Just—Please, shut up."

His hand snuck beneath the hem of your shorts, swiping gently across your tender clit, and he grinned as your hips hitched up into his deft touch.

"S'okay," He cooed as he eased a couple of fingers into your tight, aching cunt. "I missed you, too."

--

"You gonna come watch me play?"

As with the rest of the last day or so, your answer should be no. You didn't turn to look at Patrick as you rummaged through your dresser for something to wear.

"I've seen you play, Patrick."

"Not lately." He tried again: "It's a challenger."

You hummed, giving a noncommittal shrug as you pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

"...Well can I stay here tonight?"

"If you win, sure."

"How will you know I win if you don't come see me?"

You rolled your eyes, hip-checking your drawer shut before pulling up your pants and tugging in your top.

"Fine. Just tonight. You'll have to find somewhere tomorrow night."

"I'll have the prize money by then, I'll crash at a motel."

"Oh, a motel. Hey big spender," You drawled, heading for your door.

"Hey."

"What?"

"You have the papers here?"

It stopped you dead in your tracks, your stomach churning with unease as you looked at him again.

"...What?"

"The divorce papers," He clarified. "I can sign 'em while I'm here."

It would be so easy. It would be so easy to go down to your office and draw the file out of your desk drawer, to plop it down in front of Patrick with your favorite black ballpoint pen, to flip between arrow tabs and instruct, "Sign here, here, here, here, here, and here."

But you found yourself shaking your head.

"I don't have a copy," You fibbed. It took Patrick a moment before he nodded a little.

"Can you get them?"

Hell, were you that out of practice? One night back in bed with you and he was ready to call it? But you were certain that wasn't it—That Patrick was, for once in his goddamn life, trying to make it easy on you after so much hell.

"...Maybe, I don't know," You shrugged. "It's the weekend."

"Okay."

"Coffee?"

"Yeah—Hey."

"What?"

You watched as Patrick pulled the covers away, unashamed of his nakedness as he strode toward you. He grasped your chin, tipping your head for a soft kiss. It took everything in you not to melt into him as he skimmed his hand over your hip, drawing back just enough to give you a sleepy, hazy smile.

"Good morning."

You couldn't help your own, indignant smile.

"Sure, Patrick." You turned away, determined to push on with your day, your life like he wasn't there—like he wouldn't be hanging over you as you made breakfast, or dominating the court as he played, or in your bed again in just a few hours. "Good morning."

[gurugirl]

The Handyman | a check-in*

Summary: You and Harry throw a housewarming party and your ex shows up with some advice for whoever built the kitchen counter. Harry makes sure to prove to you how well-built his countertops really are.

A/N: Based on this idea! Previously posted on Patreon. Read the original one shot here.

Word Count: 3,613

Warning: smut, the tiniest touch of jealousy/possessiveness

❊❊❊

You hadn’t intended for your little housewarming party to turn into a whole thing. Harry said he’d help you invite people from town, a way to make more friends and get to know some of the locals a bit better. But then when your dad told your cousin that you were throwing a small party she let it slip to someone from your past. Van, your ex. She apologized, saying she didn’t think he’d be interested until he asked for more details. But you weren’t going to be rude and uninvite anyone because the house was big enough for everyone. And you did say “open invitation” after all.

“Y/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Van pulled you in for a hug when he arrived. You put on your nicest smile and attempted to act happy to see him. And it wasn’t that you disliked the guy but the awkwardness of dealing with an ex you hadn’t seen in a while was a bit daunting.

“Oh my gosh. You too! I’m surprised to see you here. All the way out in the middle of nowhere!” It truly was a surprise. It was an hour’s drive from the city to get to your house. And even though your cousin told you she told him and he seemed interested, you half expected he wouldn’t show up.

You made small talk with him before excusing yourself to go to the kitchen except he followed you.

“This house really does look nice, Y/n. Did you have help with all this?”

“Thank you. And yes. I had someone help with everything. Harry’s been so amazing. Listened to what I wanted but he already had his own ideas which I loved so much. Kept almost everything original.”

Van ran his palm along the butcher block island and ducked down to check the construction of the cabinets beneath, “Who’s Harry?”

“Harry owns a small company doing all kinds of work for people in town. He helped me restore the whole place and landscape. I mean, he basically did all the work but… yeah. He’s also my boyfriend.”

Van raised a brow at you, “Boyfriend huh?”

“Yep. Boyfriend. He’s actually here somewhere.”

He nodded as he inspected the window over the sink, “Not sure if you remember or not but I became an architect. Wish you’d have called me. I could have really done this place justice. Sort of feels like some of this could have been upgraded.”

“Oh? Like what?”

You caught Harry’s eye when he stood at the entry between the kitchen and the dining room as he spoke to a few people he knew.

“Well this window for example,” Van pointed, “I would have pushed this whole wall out, made a breakfast nook over the patio since there’s so much space at the front. Could have put in built-in bench seating and it would have given you so much more light in the kitchen and increased the value of the property.”

“I mean that sounds really nice but I wanted it to be original. Expanding the walls and windows like that sounds like too much. And I’m not planning on selling it so increasing the value doesn’t appeal to me.”

“I just hope he knew what he was doing. If someone’s not quite qualified you could have shoddy workmanship that shows later. Like all the cabinets and these new countertops,” he knocked on the surface, “might look fine now but give them a year and you’ll see if it’s up to par.”

Suddenly Harry was wrapping his arms around your front and kissing your neck as Van was then suggesting a rebuild of the staircase to expand the width. You placed your hands over Harry’s forearms and grinned at the feel of his lips on your skin. His distraction had almost made you forget that Van was still talking until he slowly got quieter as he looked between you and Harry and realized you were no longer listening.

Harry kept his eyes on Van as he pressed warm kisses to your neck. It was a signal to Van. You were taken and you were happy and Harry wasn’t some pushover. You were his girl and he was letting Van know.

“This the ex you were telling me about,” he whispered into your ear so Van wouldn’t hear it.

You nodded and giggled, turning to look at Harry when Van cleared his throat.

Harry stood up straight and put his hands on your shoulders, “Sorry to interrupt like that. I’m Harry, Y/n’s boyfriend. You are?”

“Oh, I’m an old friend. I’m Van,” he put his hand out to shake and Harry wrapped his big palm around Van’s with a nod.

“Nice to meet you, Van. Now, what were you suggesting I do differently?”

Van’s eyes widened slightly, “Oh… I wasn’t saying you should do anything different… it’s just that there were some ideas…”

You were no longer interested in what Van had to say at all when you felt Harry’s hand slide down to your hip. It felt like a possessive move. You’d never known Harry to be jealous or anything but that whole exchange had you seeing a bit of a different side of him.

“Definitely some good ideas, Van. But we’re happy with keeping things original. Feel free to have a look around at everything if you like. Only room off limits is our bedroom upstairs that’s locked, but otherwise, knock yourself out.”

Neither you nor Van missed Harry saying our bedroom upstairs.

“Okay. Well, thank you. Yeah, I mean I think you’ve done a great job here and…” Now Van was backtracking.

Harry nodded, “The most important thing is that Y/n is happy with how everything turned out and the quality of construction is the best,” he rapped his knuckles on the countertop, his brow raised at Van.

Van kept his distance until he left a couple of hours later, only hugging you quickly and telling you, once again, how nice it was to see you. You weren’t sure why he showed up in the first place. Maybe, being an architect, he was genuinely curious about the new house you bought and had help restoring. Or maybe he was hoping to rekindle something long gone but then was caught off guard by Harry.

“I can see why you love it here,” your cousin nudged your arm as she ogled Harry who was talking to a woman animatedly.

You laughed softly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your boyfriend, obviously. Damn. Who knew small-town men looked like that? You’re living your Lifetime movie dreams babe. Old mansion, aunt’s inheritance, hot local who helped you fix the place up falls in love with you…”

You laughed through your nose and shook your head, “I’m not saying I’m not agreeing with you but… I would have stayed here with or without Harry. He’s just the cherry on top.”

“Oh, I bet he’s the cherry on top. So…” she looked around the space and then back at you, “He’s living here with you then?”

You nodded, “Yep. When we started dating it was just kind of the natural next step. I think my dad thought it was too fast but I didn’t want to be away from him at night anymore and he didn’t like it either. I suggested that he just stay and… well that’s really it. He’s here for good. Plus he put so much love into this house. It feels like it’s just as much as his as it is mine.”

You could admit, everything looked fantastic. Harry had made your home into something you could see yourself living in until you were old and grey. Something you were proud to show off to everyone. It was a labor of love, for both of you.

. . .

When everyone had gone, you were wiping up the countertop when your sponge was plucked from your hands and Harry pulled you back into his chest, “So Van thinks the construction of this counter isn’t well done?”

You turned in his arms and grinned up at him, “You know the construction is fine. It’s the best. Don’t worry about what he said. I don’t think he could tell from just looking anyway.”

“Did you like him a lot when you two dated?” Harry pushed you gently back toward the counter, your bottom hitting the edge.

“Why? You’re not jealous are you?”

Harry licked his lips and squeezed your hips before sliding his hands up to your waist and lifting you to sit on the smooth surface you’d just wiped down. You laughed and grasped onto his shoulders.

“Of course, I’m not jealous of Mr. Architect. But I do want to demonstrate how sturdy everything is. I’m not the type to cut corners, you know…” he dragged his big hands up your sides and one up your spine until his fingers found the back of your neck, collaring you with his big palm as he bumped his nose into yours.

You giggled and pushed your arms over his shoulders, “Seriously, Harry. I know how sturdy everything is. No need to prove anything to me.”

“Mmm… I know I don’t have to prove anything,” he smoothed his lips against yours gently, and slowly with the poke of the tip of his tongue at your plush lips igniting the furnace in your tummy that always simmered with need for him. But when he got like this… with his hands on your body and his mouth prodding at yours… the simmer turned into a boil.

You felt one of his hands travel down your hips and then to your thigh where he bunched the material of your skirt in his palm until he’d pushed the fabric out of his way and teased his finger up and down along the edge of your panties next to your crotch.

Spreading your legs for him you leaned back slightly and parted from the kiss with a laugh, “We gonna do this right here, Harry?”

He splayed both of his hands over your bare thighs and squeezed. His eyelids were heavy as he roved his pupils from where he was holding your plush thighs then up to your face, “Wanna?’

You couldn’t help but giggle again and bite your lip as you nodded.

“Mmhmm… Thought you’d want to. Given how wet your panties are right here,” he pressed his thumb over the crotch of your knickers, “Bet you need it more than I do, sweetheart.”

He smeared his thumb around the material of your sodden panties, wetting the pad of his digit before finding your clit and pressing into it. A breathy pant fell from your lips.

“What got you like this, Y/n? What happened, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, just you.”

“Me? Are you sure about that?”

“Always you, Harry.”

He grinned and pushed the fabric of your panties aside as he kept his soft green eyes on you, “What about me does this to you, hmm? You just like me so much that you start dripping?”

You felt your face heat up. Harry often liked to ask you questions that got you a little shy or embarrassed when you had to answer. And even though you should be used to it by now you still got a bit antsy. But fuck if you didn’t love it.

“Yeah. I really just like you so much…”

Harry’s grin never faltered as he kept his gaze pinned to yours and pressed his thumb at the entrance of your pussy, taunting it open until he had pushed it all the way in and you gasped. He began slipping it in and pulling it out, “I know you do. And I love how much you need me,” he continued fucking you with his thumb, “How your body reacts to me. Look at you, Y/n…” he dipped his gaze down to where he was thrusting his thumb into you, “Letting me fuck you with my thumb on the countertop I installed. Making a mess of my palm and I bet the quartz under your ass too. Almost shaking you need it so bad.”

You grunted and rolled your hips up against his thumb, pressing him in further and Harry groaned at your little pathetic wiggle.

Releasing one of your thighs he hooked a finger into the bottom hem of your blouse and pushed upward, “Arms up.”

Raising your arms overhead harry pulled the shirt from your torso and then pulled your bra down, exposing your tits one at a time until you were pouring out over the stretchy material. With his thumb still inside of you, he ducked down and wrapped his lips over your nipple, tongue first.

You moaned and closed your eyes when Harry moved to your other breast, pumping his thumb through your walls until it was all gushy sounding. He stood back, pulling his thumb from you and then bringing it up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it to lick off every drop of you while his other hand worked at his button to get his pants undone.

There you sat at the edge of the counter with your legs spread and your wet pussy on display. Your panties were stretched to the side and out of the way but you could feel the elastic digging into the back of your thigh and your bum.

Harry pulled himself out of his pants, his gorgeous cock already at full mast and ready to split you in half. He cradled the underside of his shaft as he stepped in toward you and held your thigh in place as he smudged his tip into your labia, spreading your arousal through your crease. The dirty look on his face was heated, like he was about to overtake every part of you.

“Hold onto my back, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you on this well-made countertop now,” he smirked at you cheekily.

You would have laughed but you were already feeling his tip at your pulsing muscle and the anticipation of him stretching you open was making your head spin.

He rocked forward, his thick crown penetrating you and opening you up as he stuffed himself in. It took a few pumps of his cock in and out to burry into the hilt. He gasped when he felt your pussy devour him whole.

Your fingers clung to his back as he began to thrust, long and languid, wet and hot.

“Fucking hell… Got me so weak for you, sweetheart. So desperate to feel you around me all the time. Wanted to fuck you on this counter right in front of your ex-architect so he could see who’s fucking you these days, who’s treating you right…”

You moaned with every deep nudge of his cock through your wet channel. But when he ran his thumb over your clit you croaked out loudly, “Fuck! Yes…”

“See? Look how good I am to you… give you the best don’t I?”

You nodded, “The best, Harry…”

He crashed his lips to yours as he worked your cunt with his cock and his thumb and the languid thrusts turned into frantic jerking motions with his tip nudging into your guts, a hint of pain spreading through your insides at the way he bullied his thick length into you. He rocked his hips against you, the sound of smacking flesh and muffled moans between kisses filtered out through the open window onto your porch. Luckily you had no neighbors anywhere near so no one would know the kinds of things that went on in that old house every evening.

Your thighs were trembling with every swipe of his thumb at your clit and every dip of his cock through your insides.

“Gonna come for me already? Yeah? Fuck, baby…” he was swollen and leaking as he shoved into you. The feel of you wrapped tight around him was always heaven. His favorite.

You whined loudly, the build-up of your orgasm was unable to be stopped as you let him ravage your pussy however he liked. Pat-pat-pat… the sound of wet pussy getting fucked was a typical soundtrack in your house just about every night.

Harry ran a big paw over your tits and squeezed as he pounded into you. The counter under you never budging.

When your pussy began to squeeze and flutter and spasm and your mouth dropped open wide you let out a pitiful cry and dug your fingertips into the taut muscle of his back as you gushed on his big cock.

He only increased his pace as he fucked into you and watched your pretty face twist up in ecstasy. He loved watching you come. It only fed his ego to see such a pretty thing with your face all scrunched and lips curled and wet as you quivered in your orgasm.

He hissed to hold himself back as he felt your pussy slobbering arousal all over his dick. He’d have loved to unload his come right then but he wanted to force another orgasm from you before he allowed himself the satisfaction of coming yet.

When you felt him slow his thrusts you could hear him cooing at you, “Good girl. Fuck baby almost made me come you look so pretty like this.”

You lulled your head up to look at him and he smoothed his lips against yours as he stilled his hips, cock lodged deep inside of your tummy.

“Gonna have you bend over now, okay? Put your feet on this stool if you need it,” he dragged the stool next to his foot toward the counter for you. And with wobbly limbs, you adjusted your seating, turning over so your hips were face down against the counter top and Harry quickly placed his big palms on the round of your ass, pulling you apart so he could see your pussy and anus.

He inhaled sharply as he ran a finger through your folds and you jolted from being so sensitive, “Easy, sweetheart… This is gonna feel good once I get going. You ready?”

You nodded into the crook of your arm and let out a muffled yes as he nudged his cock against you again.

His fingers dug into the meaty soft part of your thighs before he split you open, burying in balls deep on first pass.

You grunted and braced yourself as he began to plunge through your insides, wet strokes of his long cock filling you and then pulling back to his tip on repeat.

“Ooh… shit, sweetheart. So fucking pretty…” he pulled at your ass cheeks and railed into you. You knew he was sweating already, he was giving it his all, using his strong muscles to fuck himself into you and panting breaths every time his balls smushed into your pussy.

You began to feel that fuzzy little prickle spread over your core with every stroke of his cock. The ridges of his bare dick always fit into your crevices and little spots like he was made to snug inside of you and get you off just like that. Your g-spot was never left unloved with the shape of Harry’s cock, his tip always dipping right into it with every pass.

He began to grunt with every glide of his hips, his cock being massaged by your warm walls making his balls tighten and his heart pound the closer he got to his end.

The sight of your pussy sucking him in, lips wrapped around his thick shaft and leaving creamy arousal along his length was just as hot as the way you felt encasing him. But of course, there was the scent and the sound as well. It was lewd. All his senses were burning and singing as he fucked into you.

“Ahh!” You moaned and began to push back against his thrusts, desperate for your next orgasm as it was approaching fast.

Arousal dripped down your inner thighs as he rutted into you, his pace growing sloppy and erratic as he could tell you were about to come.

And the moment you gurgled a wet moan and he could feel you clamping down he gasped and gripped onto your hips, moving you over his cock like you were a toy to fuck, he pulled your ass against his hips and then upward along his cock before slamming you against him again, smearing your pussy juice on the countertop as he did so. You cried out and convulsed around him as Harry finally pumped into you, pulling you back against him until he was stuffed into you as deep as he could reach and released every drop of himself into you.

He groaned as he came into your warm, cozy pussy, pumping strings of his come through your slimy arousal-coated cunt.

Harry made getting off easy. You’d never been one to come so fast or so easy but you were convinced his cock was shaped exactly like you needed. You reached back to take his hand as Harry leaned over your back and kissed your neck, “Pussy fucked and stuffed and countertop sturdy as a rock,” he laughed.

You giggled and arched your back to attempt to move yourself, the position was not the most comfortable after all.

Harry helped you down and held onto you so you wouldn’t fall and you both laughed again when you turned to face him, knowing you had mascara down your cheeks.

He cupped your face and grinned at you, “This is the best housewarming party I’ve ever been to.”

You pointed at the counter he’d just fucked you on and chuckled, “And that is the sturdiest kitchen counter anyone will ever see.”

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[juniperdugong]

Help Sleeping - Kim Mingyu

Mingyu was aware that you had work early in the morning.

Which is why he wanted to "help" you go to sleep.

You honestly didn't know what to expect. Maybe a glass of milk, some tea, a massage, hell maybe he'd even go the extra mile and do all of the above plus some melatonin gummies or something.

But no. Here you were, staring at the wall, sitting up, and lights dimmed. As your boyfriend sat in front of you with a pill bottle, a lighter, and a pop-it your younger sibling had left at the house months ago.

"Mingyu..."

"First of all, not my name. Second, I promise this will relax you." He let out one of his infamous little "he he" laughs as he zoned in.

Fully focused this man leaned closer and closer to you. You almost catch him in a kiss before his head swerves to your right ear. "A..." he whispers. Switches to your left ear, "S...". Alternating now he finishes the word with a breathy "M" and "R".

You groan at his antics but let him continue. And he does, oh trust he does.

For the next 20 minutes, you sit back and close your eyes, attempting to relax, as Gyu alternates between tapping on the pill bottle, whispering in your ear, lighting the lighter (careful to not get too close to the side of your head with this one), and bringing the pop-it to either side of your head and gently popping the bubbles.

Every now and again he would make a water droplet sound with his mouth, his breath so close to you that you would giggle and open your eyes slightly to see a small frown turn into a concentrated stare at whatever object he chose to entertain you with next.

By the end of it, he must've thought you were sleeping. His hands about to reach out to your body to lay you down but instead he meets your gaze as you slowly open your eyes.

"Gyu..."

A pout forms, "I thought I got you to sleep".

"Can you please, pretty please, the light of my life, my beautiful boyfriend, just make me some tea and get the melatonin gummies in the cabinet?"

He huffs and his pout turns into full duck lips as his brows furrow. "You didn't even try to enjoy it."

You scoff, roll your eyes, and put on your baby voice (the one made exclusively for him), "I did try baby, I really really did...for about 5 minutes."

"You let me do that for 15 more minutes?!"

"Listen, you were in the zone, how am I gonna stop you when you're in the zone? Babe."

"How am I gonna stop you when you're in the zone? Babe." He mocks.

"Gyu...please." you give him the most endearing yet sleepy expression and his pout returns, this time out of a minor sadness at your current restless state. Yeah, he could never actually be mad at you.

Being the man he is he's on his feet before you utter another word. Within 10 minutes he's back with what you've asked for. You scrunch your nose as you drink, a sign of thanks to him.

He gives you a radiant smile before wrapping his arms around your waist, giving your cheek a peck, and nuzzling into your neck.

After taking the gummies you turn the lamp off joining Gyu fully in the sheets entangling in the warmth of each other. Although it's dark you both know that you're both smiling. You reach out to cup his face in your hands and he giggles as your fingers locate each feature.

An attempt is made to kiss his lips but you catch his nose instead. Laughs emerge from both of you. This time you get it right though, your lips perfectly capturing his.

With a sigh, you say "Maybe...next time you just try holding me like this, huh? Because I don't know if it's you or these gummies but suddenly I am very very sleepy...".

"I'd be willing to test out that theory."

{If you're interested in being on the Taglist for my Seventeen works please let me know!!}

{A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, literally finished writing this, posted it, and K.O.'d lol. This is inspired by this video of ASMR svt moments lol. Enjoy my loves, get a good night's rests whenever you sleep, and for the love of all that's holy DO NOT attempt to pull an all-nighter}

[cosmal]

cake — send me in a character and a prompt and i’ll write you a blurb!

eddie munson + soft!shy!gf’s love language is gift giving. maybe friends to lovers?

guitar pick

summary you come over late at night to give eddie a gift.

content eddie munson x shy!fem!reader

Eddie didn’t mean to scare you, really it was an accident, but it doesn't stop him from feeling bad. But he really didn't know you'd be at his door when he opened it up.

"I'm sorry," you gasp. Which is awful because he should be the one apologising. "Sorry, Eds, Wayne let me in."

"It's okay," he says and looks down at you. Tights tucked into your frilly socks at your feet. They wriggle into the trailer-grade flooring. "Sorry, are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm okay," you sigh, and then you blink slowly. Eddie remembers it's late - really late. And you're here, jacket over your pyjamas, and a beanie on your head.

"Y/N," he says and moves out of the way to let you into his bedroom. You move, and despite months of being together, you're hesitant about it. You scuffle along the ground and turn to make sure he's behind you. You wait for him to sit down before you do. "Did you walk here?"

"Yeah," you say quietly, taking off your beanie now you've settled. "Eddie, it's fine, don't worry about it." You only live around the corner. Still, it's 11pm and Eddie feels like he might throw up.

"Y/N," he says and tries not to sound stern, "baby, why didn't you call?"

"Because," you sigh, nibbling your bottom lip unthinkingly like always, "because, I got really excited to come see you and didn't even think about it."

Eddie scoots across the bed and nudges your thigh with his knee where he's got his foot tucked under him. "Excited, huh?" He wiggles his eyebrows and feels pleased when you duck your head down to look at your hands in your lap.

"Eddie," you say downwardly, swinging your feet over the edge of his bed. "Stop, no, not like that."

Eddie doesn't sound disappointed because he isn't. He doesn't care why you're here, he's just happy you are. He thinks if you'd come over just to see the stray cats and not him, he'd still just be as pleased. Just to see you is enough.

"Oh?" he asks, leaning his weight into you. You lean with him and Eddie has to hook an arm around your shoulder to stop you from falling into his pillows. You giggle with shy happiness that makes Eddie feel fuzzy. "What're you here for? I saw you five hours ago."

You lean your face into his shoulder, cheek all smooshed up against the sleeve of his sleep shirt. Some Tom Petty merchandise from the dollar bins at the thrift store behind the arcade. It's starting to smell like you. You hide yourself in his side and he can't see your face properly.

"I've got something for you," you say quietly, waiting for his response.

He shifts to rock you. "Oh really?" He finds it hard to hide his excitement.

"You gotta," you steel yourself and Eddie squeezes your knee, "you gotta promise you won't tell me if you hate it. I don't think I can take it," you say seriously.

Eddie tenses and then laughs gently. "Sweetheart, I would never. I'll love it, swears."

You sigh and reach into the inside pocket of your jacket. Pulling out a rolled-up bit of tissue paper, you hand it to him. You won't look him in the face.

Eddie carefully unravels the paper in his hand and drops the contents into his other palm. A long, silver chain with a plastic plate at the end of it. He flips it over to inspect it. It's a guitar pick.

"It's, uh," you say when he looks it over, "it's one of my picks."

You're only new to guitar, mainly acoustic, bass when Eddie can convince you to sit between his legs and teach you.

"Oh," he lets out a deep breath, deflating, "sweetheart, that is so cool. Like totally, amazing."

"Yeah?" You're so shy about Eddie feels like he could die.

"The best thing ever," he groans before he falls on top of you and down into the bed. You yelp, still just as demure now that he's hovering above you. He cages you in with his arms beside your head.

"Eddie..."

"Seriously," he leans down to kiss you on the cheek, "so cool," the other cheek, "thank you," your nose.

You fluster underneath his doting, pushing your face into where he's got his arms around you. "Do you really like it, Teddie?"

Teddie Eddie thinks fondly. Of course, he likes it. He loves you even more. "Really. Actually. Truly."

It takes you a second. You smile something ruining and roll onto your back. "Cool, 'cause I have a matching one." You pull a necklace from out underneath your sleep shirt. There, on the end of the chain is a guitar pick Eddie had given way back when you were still just friends.

Eddie drops himself into you and groans, long and suffering. "Jesus fucking Christ, baby."

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

-----

“I owe you an apology,” Eddie says as they're picking their way through the woods.

“For what?” Steve asks.

Eddie kicks a pinecone. “For last summer.”

Huh.

“You don't owe me anything,” Steve returns. “But if you want to give me one, I'll take it.”

“Just like that?”

Steve looks up ahead, sees Dustin has stopped and is fiddling with his malfunctioning compass, and slows to a stop himself, leaning against a tree. “How about an explanation, instead of an apology?”

Eddie grimaces. “Can't I just tell you I'm really, really sorry?”

Steve raises one eyebrow at him.

Eddie kicks another pinecone, then flings himself on the other side of the tree, leaning against it with his shoulder almost touching Steve's.

“I got the wrong idea about something, and it freaked me out. Then I was pissed at myself for getting the wrong idea, and then I just - I ran, Steve, okay? In case you haven't noticed, it's clearly what I do.” His voice tremors there, just a little, at the end.

“Swap?” Steve asks, out of instinct.

Eddie shifts to look at him, brows furrowed. “What?”

Right.

Shit.

“Never mind.” Steve shakes his head. Okay, he doesn't need Eddie's heart to do this. He can still read him pretty well, he thinks, as long as he doesn't think too hard about how he apparently didn't read him as well as he thought he did last summer. “Eddie, shit, if you hadn't run when you guys got attacked you'd be dead, too, and I'd…”

“You'd what?” Eddie prompts after a moment.

“I'd hate to see Robin kick your ass, because I promised her that she could if you broke Dustin's heart.”

Eddie just looks at him, and Steve thinks - huh. Maybe Eddie doesn't need his heart to be able to read him well, either, even if there'll always be a part of Steve that still wants to give it to him.

“I'd be pissed at both of us.” Steve bumps their shoulders together. “I should have kept watching out for you.”

Eddie scoffs. “I made it pretty clear I didn't want you to anymore. Besides, it was never your job.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted it to be.” He pauses, then figures, whatever, it's Upside Down shit again, he might as well. “I want it to be.”

Eddie's expression goes a little more serious, a little softer. “...still?”

“Still,” Steve confirms.

Dustin gives a triumphant exclamation and starts forward again, so Steve gives Eddie one last look before he pushes himself off the tree and keeps going.

—

Eddie hovers by his side in the Upside Down, nervously rambling about Ozzy and metal and -

And Steve only kind of gets it, but Eddie's still nice to him as he explains it.

Even after everything, he doesn't try to make him feel stupid.

Steve watches his lips as Eddie talks, something about Dustin worshiping him and how Eddie wouldn't have come in after him because he's the kind of guy who runs, and - wait.

He reaches out, grabbing Eddie's wrist and tugging him to a stop.

“Whoa, hey, you gotta cut that shit out. You looked at yourself lately?”

Eddie blinks at him. “No mirrors in the Upside Down, man. Not any ones that I want to look into, anyway. Besides, I probably look like a drowned rat.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You're hot and you know it, don't change the subject. Come on. You stayed with us here, and you jumped in after me - no protests, man, whatever you thought about doing, you jumped - and you hit demon bats with an oar. You're not running now, are you?”

Eddie swallows, staring at him. “No. Guess not.”

“Good. Now come on, we gotta catch up.”

It isn't until they make up the distance between them and Robin and Nancy, and Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to join them that he realizes he'd been holding it this whole time.

He shoots a look over at Eddie, who ducks his gaze, cheeks a little pink.

Huh.

—

Eddie sits in the front seat next to him, in their stolen RV.

Steve glances up in the rear view mirror to meet Robin's gaze, who mouths big boy and wiggles her eyebrows at him. Steve rolls his eyes, then looks back over at Eddie.

“You okay?” he asks.

Eddie gives a short, humorless laugh. “Am I supposed to be?”

Steve reaches out, bumps his knuckles against Eddie's knee. “You know what I meant.”

Eddie stares down at Steve's hand, but his leg stops shaking, so Steve doesn't move it. He thinks about asking if Eddie wants to swap hearts, so he doesn't have to talk about it, but - Eddie hasn't even wanted to show his heart to anyone, and Steve doesn't want to put anymore pressure on him.

They don't end up saying anything else, but Steve keeps his hand there, and Eddie doesn't look as tense, and it - it feels like something settles between them.

It gives Steve hope.

—

After the War Zone, Dustin and Lucas swap hearts. Or - swap back, Steve realizes as he gets a closer look at their hearts as they exchange them.

He's guessing that means Dustin hadn't swapped with him before the game, but at least they did now, and he exchanges a smile with Robin.

Eddie's noticed, too, apparently, because he's gaping a little at them.

“What was that?” he demands.

Dustin waves his hand dismissively. “It's a Party thing,” he says, dripping with condescension.

“Again with the tone,” Eddie mutters, making Steve snort.

Steve claps him on the shoulder, fingers curling absently around the back of his neck as he gives him a little shake. “It's always better not to ask,” he tells him. “Either they'll be little shits or you'll get suckered in, too.”

Eddie huffs out a little laugh. “Speaking from experience?”

“Unfortunately,” Steve replies, as dry as he possibly can.

He realizes he's still holding onto Eddie, thumb stroking absently over the spot behind his ear, and he winces internally at himself.

Before he can pull away, though, Eddie mutters, “Fuck, okay, I just - I gotta know, man, is this - it's on purpose, right? Did you really spend half of last year making a move on me?”

Steve goes still. “Well, yeah, but if you have to ask I'm starting to think I didn't do a very good job.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie makes a noise that sounds like a whine, dramatically doubling over before sprawling on the ground. “I'm an idiot.”

Steve spends a moment doing the mental work of shifting things around a little, then lets himself feel all the affection come surging back up and sits on the ground next to him. “I mean, I didn't know what I was doing, either, but I kind of thought you caught on at least a little.”

Eddie groans. “I did! I just kept going are you seriously wondering if the king of Hawkins High is spending his senior year hitting on you, is this the new fantasy you're actually entertaining and then I freaked myself out about it, and then I got hopeful, and then I called you and convinced myself I got the wrong idea, then I crawled off to lick my wounds and by the time the little shrimps started talking about you and I realized I actually got the wrong idea about you and Robin, it… it'd been too long, you know? I couldn't figure out how to face you. I figured it was too late.”

Steve doesn't know what to say to that. It's close to what he'd assumed happened, what he'd already forgiven Eddie for and moved on from, but he hadn't counted on what sounds like Eddie actually returning his feelings. This whole time, he thought it was him - that he came on too strong, like he always does, that he wanted more than the other person had to give. It feels surreal, trying to reconsider every moment between them.

“Did you want me back?”

It takes a moment for him to recognize his own voice, and realize that he was the one who asked it.

Eddie's lower lip trembles a little. “Shit, Steve, of course I did. Am I - am I too late?”

Steve holds off his immediate reaction to take a moment to think about that - about how he's changed since last summer, the future he's looking for, what he wants.

“No,” he says, confident and sure. “You're not too late.”

Nancy calls for them, and as much as Steve wants to keep going, he knows this is too important.

“Can we talk about this after?” he asks.

Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm sticking around this time.”

—

When they have a minute alone, when everyone else is outside the trailer - Steve crowds Eddie up against the wall and steals a kiss, sharp and fierce and far too short for his liking.

Eddie looks at him when they break apart, wide eyed and dazed.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “How am I supposed to concentrate on Master of Puppets now?”

Steve laughs, kissing him again, just because he can. “I believe in you,” he tells him.

—

Steve hates their plan more as they all start to split up, but it's the only one they have. He tells Dustin and Eddie not to be cute, not to do anything to deviate from their role - wishes he could do more. His heart feels heavy and tight and suffocating in his chest with every step as he walks away.

“Hang on.”

He turns on his heel, taking his heart out of his chest as he walks back.

"I'm trusting you with this," Steve says, handing Dustin his heart.

Dustin scoffs. "Of course you are. You've been doing that since I was thirteen," he retorts, like that wasn't less than two years ago.

Still, Dustin's hands are careful as he scoots his own heart over a little to make room inside his chest for Steve's. Steve can feel the echo of Dustin's heartbeat as his beats alongside it, once again in unison.

When he looks up, Eddie's gaping at him.

"What?" Steve asks.

"You just. What the hell?”

“I told you,” Dustin says, as superior as ever. “It's a Party thing.”

—

Shock and pain and fear cuts through the triumph he feels when Nancy shoots Vecna out the window, sharp enough that Steve gasps.

“What-” he starts, then realizes the moment he says it. “Dustin.”

Oh, shit, it must be bad if he's getting Dustin's feelings - he doesn't have Dustin's heart, so he shouldn't be picking up anything that isn't all consuming.

“Go,” Nancy orders, sharp and quick.

“We've got this,” Robin agrees.

Steve's gone without a second thought, taking the stairs two and three at a time and flying out the door. He runs - faster than he should with his injuries, faster than he thinks he's ever run before. He doesn't know if it's his own heart calling to him or if it's Dustin's panic, but whatever it is pulls him in the right direction.

Until he's on his knees in the dirt, Dustin begging him to help and Eddie's gasping, breathy wheeze echoing in his ears.

Oh, God, this is bad. He wants to deny it, wants to pick him up and carry him out anyway, but Eddie's not going to make it like this. He needs to do something, he needs -

He needs Eddie's heart.

“Eddie,” Steve gets out, sharp and firm. “Eddie, hey, hey, look at me. I need you to open your chest, now.”

“Gonna steal my heart, Harrington?” Eddie says with a grin, his voice thick with the same blood that's staining his teeth.

Steve tries to control his emotions, so Dustin won't feel the echo of fear and grief - or the tiniest flutter he knows his heart must give at that.

“No,” Steve replies. “But if you let me have it, I'll protect it.”

Eddie's grin slips, and Steve watches the way he swallows, how his hand shakes as he fumbles to get his chest open.

“It's all yours, Stevie,” he manages to get out.

Normally, Steve'd wait until Eddie took his own heart out before doing anything, but they don't have time for that now. He sticks his hand right into Eddie's chest, pulling it out and shoving it into his own without even looking at it. Pain and terror nearly overwhelm him when he closes it up, but there's - there's something like satisfaction there, too, something like pride.

I didn't run.

Steve sucks in a ragged breath, gets his hands under Eddie's knees and back and hauls him up. “I've got you, Eddie, okay? I got you.”

“Always got me, Stevie,” Eddie mutters into his neck.

There's something else, there - affection and trust and longing and everything that Steve's been hoping to feel for a while, just not like this.

Not like this.

“Let's get him out of here,” he tells Dustin, who scrambles to lead the way back to the nearest gate.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here! Just one more part left after this.

-----

Part 10

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta @irregular-child @th30ra3k3n @powdeeee @theohohmoment @5ammi90 @ominous-pool-light @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeens

[lalunanymph]

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 — miya osamu

based off this thought i had about atsumu unintentionally hooking his twin up with his future wife skibidi doo bap

I'm g'na kill him when I catch him, Osamu thinks, already coming up with a sure-fire plan to wipe his twin off the face of the earth for humiliating him like this.

And then, I'll go back in time and absorb him from the womb.

Usually, he could take whatever bullshit Tsumu threw his way—but this time, the star setter had gone too far.

Osamu literally feels like he's going to die; hands clammy and mind spinning in circles when he sees your confused expression, his number on a scrap of paper dangling uselessly in between his lax fingers.

"I... I'm sorry, Miya-san. I think you misunderstood..."

Your eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones, pearly white teeth digging into your lower lip as you chew on it in anxiety.

Thank fuck it's almost closing time and none of his regulars are here to see him fumble this badly.

He blinks, retracts his hand, and number with a forced smile, even when he feels like turning around and strangling his brother, who is, of course, dying of silent laughter in the kitchen.

"Ah." He scratches the back of his head, pink dusting apparent on his boyishly handsome face. "I'm sorry for putting you in this position, L/N-san."

Osamu struggles to control his cresting shame, forcing a smile.

"Let me make you a house special as an apology for my forwardness. I'm truly am sorry for putting you in this position."

Before he could turn and retreat back into the kitchen with his tail tuck in between his legs, you call out a high-pitched, "Wait!"

He turns, and doesn't expect your face to warm, eyes darting to the clean counter as you tap your white-painted nails on the lacquered wood.

"Wh-what did the cashier actually tell you, Miya-san?"

"The cashier?"

You nod. "The blonde man. Kinda looks like you. I told him to send the chef my compliments but I think he must've given you a different impression."

Oh. Tsumu.

Osamu tries to grin without baring his teeth too much, and as if knowing his bluff was exposed, Atsumu chokes back his chortles, ducking into the kitchen to hide.

"Ah," Osamu kisses his teeth. He debates not telling you the truth, but since he's already made an ass of himself, he might as well commit to the schtick. "Said to me a babe told him to tell me she thinks I'm hot. S'all."

If it was possible, your face warms even more.

"O-oh. Well... he isn't wrong."

"Yeah, he was really out of line with that—wait, what?"

Osamu backtracks, unsure if he's heard you right.

Your mortification is contagious, especially when you duck your head again and mumble: "He's not wrong, Miya-san." Now, it's your turn to be forward and courageous. "I... I think you're really cute."

The black shirt he has on stretches across his broad pecs, highlighting his muscular build and those deliciously impressive biceps and traps. A simple cap the same color hides his dark hair, and even under the fluorescent lights, no one could deny how much of a looker Miya Osamu is.

Right now, he has a choice: flounder and fumble you, or, take this chance to ask you out.

While he malfunctions with indecision, you remove the burden of choosing from him, reaching forward to grab his number written hastily on a scrap of paper with a small smile.

Still shy, both of you couldn't look the other in the eye, the implications of your actions giving Osamu whiplash.

"O-okay, uh, thanks," his deep, baritone takes on a shade of embarrassment.

In your sundress and pretty smile, you take his breath away as you stand, tucking his number right into your small purse.

"I'll call you then, Miya-san. See you soon."

The second the door closes behind your retreating figure, Atsumu's grating voice pierces through the daze in Osamu's mind like nails running down chalkboard, his face peeking from behind the kitchen door.

"Damn, I can't believe that worked. See Samu? S'wasn't so bad, huh? You finally got a date and I can get you out of this kitch—h-hey Samu—hey! S-Stop—stop chasing me!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 🎀 dawn says: haikyuu debut lessgoooo .... rbs and love are very much appreciated <3

©️ intellectual property of lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, claim as your own or change up the sentence structures and characters

[cosmicdahlias]

Caught

an arthur morgan x reader fic

MINORS DNI

Your thoughts have been a little preoccupied ever since you accidentally saw Arthur bathing in the river, he didn’t leave much to the imagination. You’re in your tent taking care of things when a certain someone walks in.

warnings: smut, oral, p in v, creampie

is it really an arthur morgan fic if there isn’t cowboy riding?

Your finger repeatedly stroked your clit as you laid stark naked in your cot, the tent curtains drawn. It was early in the evening and you were providing yourself with some much needed stress relief after a long, hard day. Your mind was filled with dirty thoughts of one of the handful of outlaws you shared camp with, Arthur Morgan.

That morning you had walked down to the river to wash your clothes when you came upon him, bathing in the cool waters, his back to you. Droplets on his skin glistened in the dawn sun. He ran his hands up and down his body and you shamelessly wished it was you he had he was feeling that way. He turned and you quickly ducked behind a tree, but not before you caught a glimpse of his large member.

The rest of day the image of him and his cock consumed you, it was all you could think about. When the sun finally set you sought the first opportunity of privacy.

Your breath deepened, you could feel your pulse in your neck. You were close.

You moaned with his name on your lips. “Oh, Arthur.”

You were so caught up that you didn’t hear the slip of canvas, a chuckle sounded from the edge of your tent.

“Damn, girl. Is that what you think of me?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, quickly covering yourself with a blanket.

“A-ARTHUR! I- I wasn’t- Jesus, does a closed tent mean anything to you?”

“Well you kinda lose your right to privacy when you’re moanin’ and hollerin’ like that.”

You turned bright pink.

“You heard me?”

“Are you kiddin’? I heard you from across camp. Dutch sent me over to make sure you wasn’t dyin’ or nothin’.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, and don’t think I didn’t see you eyein’ me up this mornin’.” He said while crossing his arms.

“Fuck, Arthur, I didn’t mean to-“

He cut you off. “You might’a not meant to, but you sure seemed to enjoy it.“

He stepped closer, his boots clicked on the wooden floor, he tilted your chin up.

“Didn’t you?”

Words failed you. “I- I- I seriously didn’t-“

“Don’t try to weasel your way outta this when you clearly feel some type’a way about me.”

He stroked your lips with his thumb before slipping it in your mouth, your tongue instinctively darting to it.

“I ain’t gonna lie, I’m no better. When I see you ‘round camp with your tits all pushed up like that I can’t help myself. Lost count of how many times I came to you.”

Blush returned to your face ten times harder. The thought of Arthur stroking himself while thinking of you? Good god, yes.

“Oh you like that, huh? Knowin’ what you do to me? Did you like your little show this mornin’? I’ll be honest for a moment I thought you was gonna come join me. Wounded my pride when you didn’t, but I suppose you can make that up to me now.”

He stood you up and pulled you into a deep kiss, blanket falling to the floor. You moaned into his mouth as his tongue swiped across your teeth. You reached down and palmed his cock over his pants, he drew a ragged breath.

“Fuck- mmf- not yet, I need to finish what you started first.”

He picked you up and laid himself down on the cot, pulling you to straddle his face.

“Arthur, I don’t know about this.”

He laughed. “What? You never sat on a man’s face before? I promise you’ll like it, just trust me.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips and tongue found your clit. He circled it rapidly, you bucked your hips involuntarily against him. His beard tickled your inner thighs.

“Goddam, you taste so good.”

This was heaven, you had wanted him for so long, since the day you met him. You desperately hoped that he thought of you the same way, but it was so hard to tell with how he played his cards close to his chest. You always knew that beneath that rough exterior laid something softer, a longing for the intimate touch of another.

You felt your orgasm quickly building again, you seized a fistful of hair and he gave a growl of approval.

“You gonna cum? I wanna hear my name again like you was doin’ before. Go on, girl.”

“Mmm, fuck, Arthur.” You panted.

Your head snapped back as you came, he sucked furiously on your clit, refusing to let your orgasm die down. It rocked through you, your clit pulsing in his mouth.

He pulled you off of his face and sat you on his lap. He started removing his belt and let it drop, the revolver in its holster hitting the floor with a thud. He unbuttoned his trousers, pulling out his cock. It was even bigger than you’d previously thought now that you were able to really look at it.

He picked you up by the hips and moved you up to hover over his cock, you sank yourself onto him. You winced at its girth.

“Easy now, take it slowly or you’ll hurt yourself.”

You followed his instructions, easing your way down his shaft until you reached the hilt.

“Ah, there you go, good girl.” He breathed.

You started moving your hips, he tilted his head back in pleasure.

“Sweet lord, you’re so tight.”

You rocked your hips on his cock, he moaned in approval. He reached a hand up to cup your breasts stroking your nipple with his thumb. With his free hand he turned his attention to your clit, drawing circles with his finger.

He was silent for a while save for his moans and grunts, his eyes wandering up and down your body. God, you were so beautiful to him.

“Come on pretty boy, ain’t you gonna say something? Tell me you like it.”

“Sorry, I just... can’t get enough of you. Makes me lose my words.”

“Glad you’re enjoying the view, Arthur.”

You started to grind yourself harder, sliding his length fully in and out of you.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl bouncin’ on my cock like that. If you keep goin’ you’re gonna make me cum.” He panted.

“That’s the plan, Arthur.”

He grabbed your hip and thrusted furiously into you, his other hand still rapidly stroking your clit. The feeling was starting to become overwhelming, you were a stuttering mess.

“Arthur- I- ah- I c-can’t, it’s too much.”

“Shh, you’re alright girl. Just focus on me and let yourself cum all over my cock.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders, unable to handle the sensation anymore, crying out.

“Aww, that’s my good girl. You’re doing so well, keep going, you’re almost there.”

You found it amusing that his methods of praise for animals were oddly similar to how he spoke to you, but you didn’t care. Hell, if you were a dog you’d be wagging your stupid little tail. His praise was driving you absolutely wild.

“Look at me, sweet girl. I wanna see those pretty eyes when I cum in you. And you’re gonna cum with me, understand?”

You nodded, looking straight into his eyes. He groaned loudly, fucking into you relentlessly, fingers overworking your clit. You felt yourself snap, cumming around his cock, panting and cursing like a sailor. The sensation of you spasming around him was enough to send him over. He pulled you down into a kiss as he filled you, his cock throbbing madly with every wave of cum he shot inside you.

Slowly his pacing died down, he sighed in satisfaction, laying his head back against the cot. As you pulled yourself off of him he looked down and laughed.

“Damn, we really made a mess. I should’a taken my clothes off like you. Would you like that for next time, sweet girl?”

“Th- there’s a next time?” You stammered, heart beating excitedly.

“Shit, after what you did to me? I gotta make you mine. Now come here, girl.”

He pulled you to his chest and stroked your back, kissing your forehead.

You smiled. “You know, I’m glad you walked in on me.”

He laughed. “Me too.”

-

Hours later you both sat by the fire, Arthur pulled out his journal. He sketched you as you stared into the night sky, then began writing.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been with another person. It was incredible, best I’ve felt in a long time. I’d forgotten what that was like. I don’t know if they want the same things as me, but I pray what we have never ends.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Black love hearts

a/n this man’s existence is singlehandedly ruining my angel image. I will be burning in hell actually, thank you.

warning: good old roommates smut hahah… mention of cheating, alcohol consumption and my dignity being on the floor. Have fun.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The clock on the stove read 3 am, and the apartment was dim. A couple of over-the-island lights that had been left on and forgotten, softly illuminating the living room in a deep warm yellow. “That’s what I fucking told him”, iii giggles, throwing his head back over the sofa armrest. You two had been roommates for barely two months but the chemistry had been wild from the moment he opened the apartment door and found you standing there with a plushy duck that was one-third of your height. “And then what?”, you giggled biting your lip as you watched him.

“Told him to shove his dick back where it was”, iii shrugged, downing the last bit of wine still left in the bottle. Some might say it was pathetic to spend a Friday night like this but you two had no fucks left to give. “Honestly she looked like a cheap bitch to me anyway”, you scrunched up your nose, swirling the wine in your glass. “Oddly enough I feel free”, iii chuckled, running a hand over his face. The poor guy had been cheated on but you and the shower head had more chemistry than what you heard coming from iii’s room when they were together.

“You went on a date this week, how was it?”, he nodded your way, unscrewing another bottle before leaning over to refill your glass. “Uh you had to go and remind me of that”, you gagged up, shaking your head. “That fucking bad?”, iii snorted. “I mean… he was decent to look at but…”, you trailed off. “But…”, iii motioned for you to continue. “Promise me you won’t judge”, you gulped your wine down as iii made a cross over his heart with a cigarette. “I just wanted to fuck and he told me he could rub it out for me”, you mussed, grabbing the bottle from his hands. “Shit… bet you got real wet after hearing that”, iii shook his head. “Man are fucking lame”, you rolled your eyes, tipping the bottle over.

“I hear you, you know”, iii cleared his throat. “You agree that men are trash?”, you snorted, looking up at him. “No… well yes, but I wasn’t referring to that”, he turned to you, licking his lips. Only now did you realize how close you were. The thrifted leather sofa was a gem but for his long limbs and your body was way too small. “You struggled last night, huh”, he says it so casually but your body goes rigid. “Hey, I wasn’t listening just… you were at it for hours”, iii added only making your cheeks heat more. “I don’t know what you want me to…”, you shake your head feeling flustered, but iii is quick to cut you off, “Did you cum?”

You just stare at him, chest rising and falling as you watch him. Shirtless, sweatpants low on his hips, that fresh blonde trim he had the other day still making your insides turn. You blink slowly before shaking your head. “I think I was too much in my head”, you whispered. “Would you like to cum?”, his question makes you let out a laugh before you see his dead serious face.

“Iii, we… we agreed that we wouldn’t”, you shook your head. “We don’t have to go all the way”, he says sitting up, before sniffing the cigarette out on the ashtray. “We have mutual…”, you muttered, letting out a sigh as iii slowly parted your legs reaching for your ankles before pressing a kiss against your leg, “friends… mutual friends”. “And that’s important because?”, he frowned, looking at you. It wasn’t really but you had thought about fucking him for weeks. Had done a decent job of talking yourself out of it. Until now…

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this”, he mussed, eyes on you the whole time. “I don’t want you to”, you muttered, shaking your head. “Spread them open, baby”, iii’s palms ran up your thighs. There wasn’t much left for the imagination. You had one of his shirts on that looked like a dress on you. The material bunched up against your waist to reveal pink panties with little black love hearts on them. “Cute”, iii smirked, “I didn’t know I was gonna get fucked tonight, okay”, you grunted. Iii chuckled, leaning over your body, hands digging into your hips as he bit the side of your thigh, “Who said I was judging?”, you could feel his breath on your skin sending a shiver down your back, “I’m admiring, baby”, he bit the waistband of your panties pulling it away from your skin before letting it snap back, making you gasp. “Iii”, you moaned, hand instantly moving to reach for his head.

“You ruined the material”, his fingers pressed against your heated center, your amped-up sexual arousal no doubt clear for him to see. “Just fuck me”, you pleaded, pushing against his fingers desperately. “I have a better plan”, iii smirked, hand already down his pants as he stroked his length. You watch him with hungry eyes, pulling his sweatpants off. Having to bite your lip to not whimper at the size of him in his palm. “Jesus, that’s a fucking cock”, you whined, “Good girl, you still remember what one looks like”, he chuckled making you grunt, “Asshole”. “You’re the one dripping down our sofa, love”, he mused, hovering over you. The word our alone making you arch your back. You feel him, slowly pushing against your walls the material of your panties the only barrier between you.

“Move it”, you whisper, finger moving to reach for your underwear only for iii to catch your wrist. “attagirl”, he mused, “i want to watch you gushing as I rub against you”, he whispered against your ear. Pushing the head of his cock against you entrance before slowly moving it up and down your folds. “Mean fucking asshole”, you whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders. “Maybe you could cum just from this”, iii mused, slowly rubbing against you as you buck your hips, following his movements.

“Please”, you moaned, “Just…”, “Just the tip?”, he muttered, “I can give you that”, pealing the side of your drenched underwear up, he let his cock slide beneath the material and your skin, both of you letting out a moan in unison as you rubbed against each other. “Iii”, you bucked your hips, trying to get as much friction as possible. He thrusted like that a couple more times. Lip between his teeth as he watched himself bulging in your underwear. “Fuck it”, he cursed pulled out, his fingers reached for the material. The sound of tearing fabric curing through the sound of heavy breathing, making you gasp.

“What did you…”, you lifted your head, “Made myself a fucking entrance”, he grunted, “hold onto the armrest, I don’t play nice”, you had barely managed to register his words before he thrusted into you. Giving you no time to adjust as he stretched you out, filling you in a way you had never felt before. “Oh fuck”, you cried out, nails digging into the leather, “my… faaa…”, one of your hands reached to brace yourself against his chest as he rutted into you. Firm grip on your hips no doubt leaving a delicious bruise there in the morning.

“So fucking warm and tight”, iii grunted between clenched teeth. Leaning down to spit against your pussy, making you throw your head back as he rubbed the extra wetness into your skin. “You’re the devil”, you panted feeling that warm bubble building in your stomach. “Was never against ruining good girls”, iii mused, hand snaking up your chest before clasping around your neck as he leaned in to kiss you. The feeling of his cock and the lack of oxygen driving you into an overdrive. “Good fucking pussy”, he groaned against your lips, the ruthless thrust making your body shake. “I’m…I”, you whimpered, toes curling as he hit just the right spot over and over and over again.

“Cum, baby, you earned it”, he mused, giving you yet another powerful thrust. Everything exploded around you. You felt him twitch inside you, the warmth of his release the final thing sending you over the edge. “Baby…fa”, you moaned, or probably screamed considering that iii’s hand clasped around your mouth. Wave after wave of his cum painting your walls. Thrust sloppy but enough to prolong your orgasm as it drowned you.

iii let himself fall against your chest, still mindful of his weight as he breathed heavily. “You were amazing”, he sighed between breaths. “I think I saw Jesus”, you whispered, making iii let out a lazy chuckle, “No, that was my dick”, you can’t help the laugh that slips past your lips, “You’re insane”. “I’m fucking hard, that’s what I am”, he grunts, giving another lazy thrust, making you whimper. “After that?”, you gasp, “I want you on all fours”, he whispers, biting at your neck. “Jesus have mercy”, you look up at the ceiling before turning to crash your lips again his once more.

[pinkanonwrites]

Always Tip Your Bartender

MTMTE Swerve/Human Reader, 2000 words, GN Reader, Valveplug, Oral, Begging

I finally stopped procrastinating on this and I'm so glad I did cause I really enjoy it. Here's Swerve getting his spike sucked AND his valve ate as a treat.

Primus, you were going to kill him. Or break up with him, which would pretty much accomplish the same thing cause Swerve didn't really know how he would live without you. 

Either way, he was dead. And he had no one to blame but himself.

The evening had been going so well. You'd always insisted how much you enjoyed watching him work, and he was more than happy to have you sitting at the edge of the bar, dangling your feet off the side and chatting with whatever bot occupied the nearest barstool as he flitted around taking orders and refilling drinks. Whenever he'd brush past you'd hit him with that brilliant smile, the one that made him go all weak in the processor and wobbly in the knee joints, before playfully waving him off, insisting he gets back to work. 

Was it incredibly distracting? Yes. 

Had he broken several glasses while admiring you? Also yes. 

Would he ever want you to stop? Not in a billion cycles.

But tonight had been particularly busy, and maybe Swerve hadn't been able to give you quite as much attention between orders as he usually had. A concept that had completely slipped his mind until the moment Whirl raised a single claw and pointed you out across the bar.

"Don't look now, Chatterbot. But I think Fizzle over there's making a move on your fleshy!"

Spinning on his heel, there was a tight clench in Swerve's tanks when his optics landed on you. Fizzle stood, drink in servo and elbow strut propped on the bar, leaning more than a little bit too close into your personal space. Every time you seemed to shuffle back he moved closer, and though Swerve wasn't the best at reading lips he could tell by the furrow for your brow and crinkle of your nose that you were not enjoying the conversation at hand. He tossed the tray he was holding onto Whirl's table and ducked through the crowd, dodging flailing elbows of dancing patrons as he hurried back to your side.

As he neared, the drone of chatter and thumping music gave away enough that he could finally begin to pick up snippets of your conversation.

"I mean, everybody's curious!" Fizzle slurred, identifiably sloshed just by the way he spoke. "Just cause you don't hear bots talking about it doesn't mean we're not all thinking it."

"Look, dude, I'm not really comfortable with you asking about-"

"So how's it work, huh? Barely the size of a mini-con and you can still get spiked down by one of us? Swerve's kinda puny, yeah, but he's like twice your size! Got a real greedy little valve, don't y-HGGK!?!"

The next thing Swerve knew, Fizzle was laid out flat on his back at the edge of the dance floor. It took the sudden, hushed stares of the surrounding patrons and the sting of his knuckles before Swerve realized that the one who had punched the words out of Fizzle's slimy, inconsiderate intake was him. 

"Swerve!"

Oh Primus. You did not sound happy.

"I was- he'd just-" He stammered, making aborted hand gestures in between you and himself and the 'not unconscious but fairly woozy' Fizzle. "I don't, uh, he uh, really shouldn't be talking like that."

You hopped down from the bar and stalked over to him, gripping the edge of his forearm plating with an unexpected force and tugging him in the direction of the storeroom. He could have resisted you, if he wanted to. But he let himself be led away instead, pedes scuffing and dermas trembling as you tugged him along. The rolling din of the bar began to pick up again as you moved away, and Swerve could swear he heard Whirl yell something sarcastically supportive over the rumble of the crowd. A sound that was quickly cut off with the resounding metal slam of the storage room door.

“Um… H-Hi, sweetspark. Angel. Light of my life.”

“Get down here.” You snapped your fingers, pointing to the ground. Swerve slowly took a knee.

“Look, about Fizzle. I’m sorry, okay! I know I shouldn’t have hit him like that, I just couldn’t let- MMPFH?!~”

But before he could finish his desperate apology your lips were meeting his own, fingertips gripping and caressing the sides of his helm and brushing a ticklish trail along his armor. Your tongue lathed across the seam of his dermas and he couldn't help but open his intake to you, servo falling instinctively into the curve of your spine as you deepened the kiss. He let out a low, needy rumble of his engine when you began to pull away and you chuckled.

“Whu… Whuh?” He managed to force out, his processor still halfway caught between the realization that you weren't actually mad at him.

“I can't believe you actually punched him. In the face. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.”

“So you're not- mmfh,~” His train of thought was only slightly interrupted by you pressing another wet kiss to his dermas. “Not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? He deserved it. Plus, I got to see my big, strong bot standing up for my honor.~”

“Ohhhh, thank Primus.” Swerve slumped his helm into the crook of your neck and let out a relieved groan, half from his own emotions and half from the pleasant tickle of your little fingers toying with the exposed cabling just beneath his helm. You had put a foot up on the bend of his thigh in order to reach him properly, and his servo gave your butt a soft squeeze when it came up to support you. “Thought you were gonna tear into me back here, to be honest.”

“Aww, did I worry you?” You pressed another fluttering kiss to the curve of his jaw. “And here I was thinking I should be giving you a reward instead.” He shivered as your lips traced just below his audial. A familiar clang and a muffled curse reverberated from Swerve, the unmistakable sounds of his spike pressurizing behind its panels. “That sounds like a yes?”

“Hoo yeah. Absolutely. Yes please. Whatever you want, sweetspark.”

“Wanna say yes a few more times?” You joked, sliding from his grasp and sinking slowly to your knees in front of Swerve’s modesty panel. As your fingers traced over his Autobrand the panels snapped back with a snikt and his chubby spike pressurized eagerly into your hands.

“Do you need me to?” He babbled through a wobbly grin. “Cause I will! I'll say whatever you want me to say if it'll keep your hands on me.” 

“...Y’know what? Yeah. I like that. Keep talking for me, baby.”

“Y-Yeah? I can talk all da-AaAaaAayy!?” His words choked off into a glitchy, garbled mess as you teased the underside of his head with the tips of your fingers. “Oh, oh! Mmmhmm, ahh! That’s se-sensitive…”

“I know, baby.” You cooed. Your fingers traced the biolights up the length of his spike before smearing the bead of transfluid at the tip wetly across the head. Swerve’s panels rattled as he shuddered, digits clawing absentmindedly at the door he was braced against to keep his hands from gripping his own spike. “That’s what makes it good though, isn’t it?”

“Mmh! So mean,” A low curl of steam hissed between his dentae.

“You love it.~”

“M-Maybe… Hngh!~” He gasped as you pinched the head between two fingers. “Ah! Ah! O-Okay, I do! I like it! Please, just- Ohhhh…~” He trailed off into another garbled mess as your lips wrapped around the tip, teasing the slit with your tongue. You took as much of his spike into your mouth as you could, stroking the rest in a tight fist as you swallowed around the solid, unrelenting obtrusion. The sharp metallic screech of his fingers gripping the door was only drowned out by his whines and gasps, staticky glitches increasing which each bob of your head. Drool and pre-fluid trickled from the corners of your mouth and down his length, further slicking your hand. When you pulled away with a wet, shaky breath, Swerve thought his spark was going to pop out of his chassis right then and there, valve cycling desperately around nothing as you pressed a slick kiss to the underside of his spike head with a barely audible moan.

“Swerve.” You murmured, your eyes hooded and glossy, your lips still grazing his spike.

“Yes?” He responded, twice as desperate and equally as enamored.

“Spread your legs for me. Push your hips out a little more.”

He let out a low, whimpering groan, widening his stance and pushing his hips out from against the wall. You ducked your head further, keeping a tight hand around his spike as you dragged your tongue up the length of his valve. 

“Ohh!~ Oh, oh that’s- ahhhh, ah, ah!~” Swerve did his best to fight the urge to wriggle, stabilizers shivering with need as you buried your mouth in his plush folds. Each time your nose bumped against his anterior node he let out a hiccuping gasp, transfluid dribbling  from both his tip and his valve as his calipers cycled around your intruding tongue. “It's so soooft, y-your mouth, I can’t- MMH!~ Oh, oh, please I- please make me…”

“You wanna cum?” You murmured, lips still pressed to his valve as you furiously stroked his spike, the rhythmic shlick shlick shlick almost drowned out by Swerve’s whirring fans and desperate whines.

“Yes, yes yes please! P-please, I want it, I want- AHHH!~” His vocalizer pitched up into a staticky howl as you took his node between your lips and sucked, hard. He glitched and wailed, helm thunking back against the door as his spike pulsed again and again in your grip, thick waves of transfluid shooting over your head and splattering against the store room floor. His valve clenched rhythmically, more translucent, pinkish fluid spilling down your chin and neck in kind. Only when he stopped shivering beneath you and fell limply back against the door did you draw away, fighting the prideful smile that tried to crawl across your face at Swerve’s ragged venting and still-flickering visor. You rested your cheek against his plated thigh, stroking the other with the hand no longer cradling his flagging spike. His helm lolled forward a bit, clarity beginning to blink back into his optics as he gazed down at you. Suddenly he let out a sharp gasp, one servo flying to cup the back of your head, digits splayed and feeling around frantically. Then he let out a soft, relieved sigh, the desperate groping of his servo slowing into something absent-minded and soothing.

“Whew. I didn't get any in your hair.” A quiet chuckle slipped through his dermas as he twiddled a bit of your hair between two digits. 

“Got it a few other places though. Not that I'm complaining.” You made a show of wiping your fingers across your chin before drawing them into your mouth and lapping them free of his fluids. He shivered, a delicate blue glow rising to his face plate, split wide in a crooked smile.

“C-careful now, or you might get me all charged up again. Then we’ll be here all night.”

“You’re saying that like you think it'd be a bad thing.” You teased.

“It wouldn't, if I didn't have to get back to work soon…” Swerve trailed off, that gentle glow beginning to rise into a furious blush. “How, uh… How much of that do you think they could hear?”

Beyond the door you could just barely make out a congratulatory cheer in a voice that sounded just a little bit too close to Whirl’s. His celebration seemed to be working up the crowd, and soon a resounding cacophony was echoing through the storeroom door. Swerve’s free servo flew up to cover his face plate, helm clanking back against the door as he let out a humiliated groan.

“Oh Primus. I'm never gonna live this down.”